The Abode

"My humble abode." Bleecchhhk. I cannot even talk about 'abodes' without automatically thinking of the notable Mr. Collins, from Pride and Prejudice, and how he goes on and on about "his humble abode" that Lady Catherine de Bourgh has so "graciously" provided for him. I don't have anything against the literary character of Mr. Collins as such. However, if you are like me and you immediately think of the greasy portrayal of this character in the 1995 BBC miniseries version, then you understand -and even further you feel- my aversion. 

By the way, I'm pretty sure all I need to do is say "Pride and Prejudice 1995" and just about all the people I know (my husband excluded) would know exactly what I'm talking about. There's comfort in that thought, there really is. 

While we're on the subject (I promise to move on shortly), have you seen this? 

"Swoon"- as one person put it.

In case you missed it (and how dare you be counted among one of my friends if you did), it's just a huge statue of Mr. Darcy in a London lake, because...why not? You can read more about it here.

But surely, I digress! I believe I was discussing our "humble abode" when I launched into the Pride and Prejudice talk. So yes. Linton Road, Oxford. M Block. I have discussed this but I haven't displayed photographs. Nor have I discussed the interesting thrifty ideas I have had since we got here. 

The thing about living in a foreign country is that suddenly, due to the expense of things, or the exchange rate which does you no favors, or simply off-your-rocker-craziness, you start to get thrifty in ways you didn't think possible. For example, I now hoard aluminum foil like a clever magpie. Not just because it's shiny (sorry, fellow magpies), but because when I pass it in the grocery store and note the price (and exchange rate calculations ensue), I get shivers that run a cool chill up and down my spine. Well played, aluminum foil. You have now taken over my life. Well, it's not really that bad, but some things are just too expensive to justify wanton use. Gone are the days where I use a long sheet of aluminum foil to cover a plate of leftovers and then carelessly toss it in the recycle bin or trash after one use - ha! The thought makes me want to get on my knees and plea with the gods of thrift.     

So I now save ever last scrap of the stuff. I rinse it off and air dry it, too. Why am I talking about this? Because this, my friends, is good old American waste-not want-not!  

I purchased this old bicycle basket for 25 cents at a charity sale, and it turns out it won't work on either of our bicycles. I was advised by my non-insane husband to just get rid of it, give it away. But we never got a wastebasket for the bathroom... So....Exhibit A: 

Guilty as charged.

I used a pound of mushrooms that I had purchased at the grocery store, and after using them up I noticed that they were in a green plastic container. I could recycle it. But I could also repurpose it! The storage in our bathroom is pretty bad, and prior to this moment I was constantly rummaging through a bag of disorderly makeup, until now:

Yes, it used to have mushrooms in it- but I promise I washed it twice!

Anyway, for those moments where you just can't bear spending money on something, I can help. I have more crazy ideas that haven't reached fruition yet. Luckily for me, Oxford's first few weeks are full of student giveaways and discounts. We have free coffee vouchers, free book vouchers, and some 20% off things as well. So there is a lot to live for. Generally, I'm enjoying this thrifty attitude, and I feel  somehow like I'm bonding with my ancestors who lived the Great Depression, only for me it's the Great Britain. 

So without further ado, here are some photographs of where we live!

The outside of our building, M Block. (Our place has the three windows on the right, on the top floor).

The view from our balcony, looking left (the building is L shaped, but called M Block, makes sense right?) This was the day the hot air balloon came out!

Our balcony:

Again, the front of our building. Our three windows are there on the top floor, left hand side now. (One of our bedroom windows is open):

A willow tree on the Wolfson College grounds, near the river:

The view from one of our building's windows as you go upstairs to our flat:

Bedroom desk:

Bedroom windows:

Our huge closet!

The living room (there are many, many more books on the shelves now that we have been to the library):

The kitchen (my celsius conversions are getting better):

A walking path down through the wood on the Wolfson grounds:

Our backyard:

 So that's that! About all the photos I have taken of our place so far. I am very pleased that we have goldenrod colored curtains, as it's one of my favorite colors. It's too bad we live in a newish building and not one of the Hogwarts-y places, but our place is very solid and well built and quiet. Also, since we are on the third floor, and you need two keys to get in the building and then into our place, it feels very SAFE. That's important. 

"Noughth Week"

That's right. You read it correctly. "Noughth week." Since English isn't already strange enough of a language, with our troughs, sleighs, and other differently pronounced t-h/g-h combinations, we made it more complicated by cramming both awkward consonant combos into one dashing word: noughth. Just like its brother word -'eighth'- the 'gh' doesn't really need to exist, but we like it there anyway. Noughth is pronounced roughly like 'noth', and it is as fun to talk about as it is to look at.

Noughth week is the 0th week of school, and you will see it printed in school schedules as '0th week'.  (By the way, why not 0rd? 0nd? I also wonder who decided way back when that we'd say first, second, third, and not firth, secord, thirst...oh, wait. Fair enough.) Truly the main reason I love this concept of 0th week is because I think zero gets ignored most of the time. It plays a vitally important role, as it marks the space between negative and positive, numbers and their opposites, but often gets ignored as meaningless per se. [insert mathematician objection here, promptly disregard and move on]. Zero is, all things considered, nothing.

The British response to this? Make zero matter! Keep Calm and LET'S START SCHOOL AT WEEK ZERO!  

So here we are in noughth week, my friends. It's a week at Oxford that sort of counts, sort of doesn't. It's not part of term, technically, but valuable events (registration included) occur in it. Some students have moved in, some haven't. But most have. Including us.

Michael (as his legal name will have it) and I are here. Our heads are swimming with events, registrations, orientations, etc. etc. but we have arrived! A kind old lady named Margaret Goodgame (I call her 'Lady Margaret' in my head due to her noble bearing) greeted us at the airport and when we asked where we could find the bus to Oxford, she not only told us where to go, but proceeded to walk us there herself, all the way to the farthest reach of London Heathrow territory while we struggled with our numerous bags and suitcases and topics of conversation. She went to Oxford back in the 1960s, so she has loyalties. Interesting lady.

We are situated at Wolfson College, Linton Road, Oxford. Here is our coat of arms.

It's the newest college, which was depressing at first (we wanted to be in the halls where Harry Potter was filmed, can you blame us???) But Wolfson has many, many, charms that make up for its lack of ancient-ness. Even though the buildings were built mainly in the 1960s to 80s, a period of architecture that usually makes me go BLEEHHH, the buildings look pretty good. Although it's a lot of concrete, they did NOT cheap out on construction, and every building feels solid and well made. Our kitchen/living room/bedroom/closets are big, and there is a balcony!

We have a beautiful harbor, with all these old wooden punting boats we can use at our leisure.

When the grad student gave us our tour the other day, he mentioned casually that we can grab a boat, punt up north in the river, dock at a cozy little pub and get out have a drink or dinner and get back in and row home I almost DIED. Fairy tale. Probably don't recommend drinking and rowing, though. That just sounds awful.


We live on the third (second?) floor of M block, directly across from the day nursery where the grad students' kids get to go all day while their mummies and daddies are working on dissertations and changing the world. Lucky kids! It works out well for us (me) because we (I) hear the sound of little English babies playing all day. And we have heard an ice cream truck go by 3 times already!

They say October is the rainiest month. But I don't buy it. We've had 4 out of 5 days with sunshine so far. Like I said, the ice cream man is out and about. I trust that this optimistic bubble will soon burst, and I will need the rain boots which I so painstakingly towed around at the airport. Eh, their time will come and the lugging around will be worth it.

The first few days we putzed around. Ran LOADS of errands, and got to know Oxford a little bit better. All of the buildings in Oxford are made from limestone, and it turns out limestone doesn't hold up well in the rain. Ha! So a lot of the buildings are undergoing re-cladding and the limestone looks brand new in some of the buildings. The Bodleian Library:

Where we saw an exhibit on Tolkien and C.S. Lewis' works:

So, Tolkien had amazing handwriting. Why don't we teach that anymore? Anyway, a trip to the pub where C.S. Lewis and Tolkien hung out, 'The Eagle and Child', is imminent.

I'll end here with a picture of a stile, on a country walk behind Wolfson College, where I went for a walk the other day. Toodle pip! Yeah, I just said that.