Hallelujah!

Last Sunday the priest of my now regular church announced that Keble college was performing Handel's Messiah this Friday, and that any one who wanted to could show up and be a part. 

Well today at 5 two of my friends and I entered the most beautiful chapel and took our places in the rag-tag choir. Some of the others singing had obviously been a part of a regular choir but a lot of us had just heard about it in one way or another and simply shown up. There was also a very small orchestra that had also been practicing. 

We spent about 40 minutes sight-reading the music and 'practicing.' Then we took a break while the people coming to hear us filed in. There must have been at least 50 people in the audience. When the time came we rose and sat, listened to the soloists and sang. That's right. After less than an hour of practice a slapdash choir sang a wonderful rendition of a powerful song. It was amazing. It was difficult but not nerve-wracking; exhilarating and fun; and joyous. The arrangement lasted only about 35 minutes and then we were done, free to go back to our normal, everyday lives. 

But for those 35 minutes I was a part of something much larger. I was a living, participating part of an Oxford Choir Performance. 

The Joy of Scrumping

A house on the corner; under construction and with 24 hour security signs posted all around the walls. An apple tree; burdened with rosy red fruit, covered in ivy and going to waste in the backyard of said house. Two weeks of walking past said house, coveting those apples falling to ground with no one to eat them, no one to enjoy them. Enter temptation; I want those apples, I want to climb that wall and pick those apples. Begin forming a plan. 

The night finally falls. A crack team of five is assembled: the leader, ready to risk all to go over the wall and dressed in black underarmor and carrying a black backpack in which to stash the spoils; the henchmen, also dressed in black and willing to breach the wall as well; and three stooges, playing distraction and lookout roles. 

The team sets out and when the coast is finally clear, I hop the wall. Hiding behind the portapotty I watch the house, anxious for any sign of a security guard. When my companion joins me we make a dash over the muddy ground to the lone apple tree. She climbs in first and begins handing apples down. A few minutes in we switch places and I, with the longer reach, start picking the larger fruits and passing them on. A tense moment; a slow moving mini-van passes by; I duck and hold my breath, hoping to be hidden by the sparse branches. Twenty apples later we hop down and run back to the wall. We can hear the stooges still playing at their games. There has been no other cause for alarm, so we break cover for a moment and lob a few rotten apples over the wall at our companions. We listen as the splat the pavement and then scurry over ourselves, my backpack heavy with forbidden fruits. 

It's hard not to run back; adrenaline is coursing through all our veins. I am proud; I am satisfied. Those apples that have haunted me four times a day are now mine. 

Enter the kitchen; emptying the backpack we see just how big some of these apples are. How did they not fall off the branch, as large and ruby as they were? We taste; sweet, pure white flesh. 

A job well done. 

And that- is scrumping. Stealing fruit from someone else's trees. 

Picture Book Post

Elizabeth, Abby and Heather in Hyde Park on my birthday. This is right next to the Peter Pan statue. 

The 21 year old me with my chocolate and champagne! 

Reeeeal early in the morning waiting for our bus into Oxford. 

My birthday surprise I found waiting in the kitchen!!

Halloween- I was the White Witch from Narnia. Here I am offering Keaton, as Van Gogh, a piece of Turkish Delight. 

T.J. the Lumberjack and Jonathan. As Audrey Hepburn. Hmmmm. 

I carved this! It reminded me of being little and spreading out all over the kitchen floor. My style hasn't changed much since then...

Finally!!! Here is my room- Number 3, Floor 2. 

Again. It has never been this clean. Not even since the day I moved in, but we had someone inspecting the house today, so here it is: all nice AND vacuumed. 

Remember, Remember, the fifth of November: Our paper effigy of Guy Fawkes alight in our front yard.