My New Virtual Bookshelf

Books!

Ok, I've added a new spiffy feature to my blog! In a blatant display of procrastination, I was doing one of my periodic web surfs through the web pages of my favorite authors. Most of the time I just do this to see if there are any new announcements of upcoming releases. But this time I noticed several of them had blogs or other pages to post writing advice, news, and random musings. Well, on Gail Dayton's blog I noticed she had a cool bookshelf thing. I had noticed something like it on someone else's--Jacqueline Carey's maybe?--page too; but Gail Dayton's stood out more because she uses the same exact blog site as me. And I thought--If she can stick this up on her blog, then so can I...somehow. Now in both cases, one of the fascinating things had been the fact that right up at the top of these bookshelves were books I knew and loved! So of course that (and the fact that these are authors I respect anyway) made me all the more interested in the books I didn't know.

Anyway, I soon tracked down the Shelfari site and got signed up and figured out how to put it on my blog. So here it is!! Well, adding things to it is also a bit of work and procrastination could only last so long. So some of my favorites are up, and anything that happened to turn up in the searches for my favorites that I've also read. So, as things occur to me, or as the need for procrastinatory activities strikes, I'll expand the collection.

Music!
My last performance with the Madrigirls was last week. It was great fun, as usual. We performed in the Kibble Palace in the Botanical Gardens as part of the West End Festival in Glasgow. We sold out! And the people running it said we had a record number of pre-sales (Ron being one of them). It was a very pretty venue, though I have to say most of the churches we've performed in had nicer acoustics; not bad though. Perhaps because of the venue, or the summery feel, or the fact we were all still recovering from all the excitement a week and a half back, this concert had a somewhat informal feel to it, at least to me. This was definitely increased by the fact that the serious readings from the Life of St Kentigern from the tour were replaced by our director's very funny summaries of the same ("And next St Mungo went to Wales...I don't remember why. Oh he wanted to see St David. Or was it St David that wanted to see him? *looks back at choir for guidance* Anyway, he went to Wales and....was there anything else? *hint from our ranks* Oh yes, he met St Columba too. That might have been after Wales. But we have this lovely piece of chant about St Columba." ...ok, so that's not a direct quote, and hopefully it won't get me killed if someone from choir reads this blog, but I think that was a fair impression. ;)

Anyway, the last concert was fun. Though I'm very sad it's all over now. They've promised to send me CDs or a DVD of the movie when it comes out if I can't see the movie in the States. I'm very very glad I decided to join. Amazing where volunteering to help out with the role playing table at Fresher's Fair led to eventually!! If I hadn't been promoting gaming, I wouldn't have seen the information about the choir tryouts on the table kinny-corner, and thus wouldn't have tried out, and thus wouldn't have had all this fun singing with an awesome choir this year.

Sing, Sing, and Sing Some More!

So, last weekend the Madrigirls (the chamber singing group I'm in) went on tour down to the Borders and Northumberland (you know, I always have to stop and think whether Northumberland or Northumbria is the modern term and which is medieval). We all got matching sweatshirts--Madri-hoodies--and headed down in a minibus rented from Glasgow Uni--the Madi-bus--and got down to Simonburn in Northumberland (vaguely near Hexham) for our concert for friday night. Naturally we sang most of the way down.

The reason we picked the tiny village of Simonburn for our first full-weekend tour ever (despite the fact that the West End Festival information persistently says we went on tour in Europe "last year"...they've said this for two years now, and it was true for neither, which we keep telling them, but that's all neither here nor there) is because their church is St Mungo's Church and as everyone knows, St Mungo is the patron saint of Glasgow (what do you mean everyone doesn't know that?). So, yes, we got to sing in a gorgeous 14th century church. We had a great turn out--the church was nearly full. We saw fliers all around on our way and they were clearly excited to have us and it was great fun. We had an incredible dinner at the local tea room before hand and then the proprietors bought one of our CDs after the concert and said we'd be heard in the tea room for a long time to come! They must have really liked us.

Well then we headed off in the trusty madri-bus for our first hostel which we had entirely to ourselves. It was incredibly picturesque, very cottage-like looking out over a lovely valley and complete with their own chickens in the yard. We sang more on the way there. And then we talked half the night. I introduced the game "How's Yours?" (any BREAK@8 readers in the audience groaning at that?) and we played all the way around till everyone had a go. Then we went to bed...which didn't mean going to sleep since I seem to have ended up in the rambunctious room both nights. Anyway, eventually sleep was had. The bunk beds were novelties to some and nostalgic to others. I suppose I fell in the latter category.

The next day we headed back north for Scotland. We had lunch in Jedburgh and then sang in fairly substantial ruins of Jedburgh Abbey. It was very pretty. I wish I'd had time to explore. In fact, if I'd realized we would have so little time afterwards, I would have ditched the choir members to go explore during lunch since my Historic Scotland card would have got me in. But hindsight and all that. It was very fun nonetheless. We went for all quite medieval songs, naturally, most of them Latin and drew a small crowd. Sadly there wern't many people around that day, but practically everyone in the abbey came to listen to us, and one bought a CD and two came to the concert that night.

Then it was off to Bowden Kirk for our final performance. We got another quite decent turn out. By this time our voices were a bit on the tired side. We went into it tired and not quite in the mood, but inside another lovely old kirk with all the nice people there to hear us, how could we resist? Once again, fun was had. And if various people, myself included, faded out here and there, well, at least we never all did it at once and the concert came off splendidly anyway. I got an adrenaline kick right before my solo that carried me through a few more songs besides. After the performance we all filed out and then while Katy and Catriona (our directors) greeted people as they came out, some of the Madrigirls invented new lyrics to one of our warm up rounds. The original words are "Mango, Mango, Mango...Kiwi, Kiwi, Kiwi...Pineapple, Banana, Pineapple, Mmm." And it became "Mingle, Mingle, Mingle....Mingle with the people...Talk to them, talk to them--nah." Unfortunately we were overheard, but luckily people seemed to think it was rather endearing....I hope so anyway. Once on the bus Evonne and I introduced the version we had invented weeks ago "Mungo, Mungo, Mungo...holy, holy, holy...Kentigern, Kentigern" which was well received.

Then it was back to our mansion-like hostel in Melrose to change. Soon we were headed out to the pub--one of the two pubs in Melrose. The other one was showing sports of some kind, and in fact one of the two rooms of ours was too. After the first round or so of drinks we started singing...again. Actually, I have to admit, I instigated it this time. A pint of cider was enough to give me the courage to go teach "Battle is better when followed by beer" to Evonne who helped teach it to a half dozen others and soon we had nearly everyone singing it. We even tried it as a round--it more or less works. Well, once singing had started, we couldn't stop. For a while we sang non-concert stuff, searching for other fun things that we might know or could be learned quickly ("What would you do with a drunken sailor?"...) Soon after we'd started singing we seemed to have cleared the remaining locals out of the pub...but then one of the band of men who'd been drinking outside came in for a fresh round and dragged all his mates in to hear us and soon we had tons of men requesting more and more. At this point we fell back increasingly on our own repertoire, going through all the rowdiest, and most fun songs. Quite intoxicated by this time (well, I nursed two drinks through the whole night, but I'm a lightweight and most of the choir is undergrads after all), we *might* have shouted out the music a bit. But a grand time was had by all.

Despite being once more in the rowdy room, I was soon asleep. The next day I for one tried to refrain from idle singing since many of us we nearly hoarse from days of non-stop singing. We couldn't resist entirely though. It's so hard! Once you're around fellow-singers and let your hair down a bit, it's almost impossible not to sing and sing and sing some more.

Then it was back to Glasgow, but the singing wasn't over yet. We split up for lunch and then reconvened for a rehearsal because...wait for it...the next night we were scheduled to record for the BBC! So we rehearsed. One song was one we knew. The other was In the Bleak Midwinter, which of course, we all knew more or less, but I'd never sung the alto harmony for it. Nevertheless, one rehearsal really did suffice in this case. Then the next night we did the actual recording...from 7pm to 2:30am!!

In the movie this is for, Fiona's Story, the main character (named, surprisingly enough, Fiona; played by Gina McKee) is in a choir at the beginning of the movie then quits when her life falls apart. At the end (spoiler alert!) she comes back to the choir...presumably symbolizing how she's put her life back together. The choir director (Jimi Mistry) is a persistent character and probably urges her to come back--though I really know little about the middle of the movie. It was really funny watching the actor imitating our choir director and getting better at directing as things went on.

All the actors and directors and everyone were very nice and down to earth. I guess I always pictured more scowling and shouting and "no, that's not right" stuff going on. But it was all quite cheerful and they plied us with food between shoots and water bottles between takes and despite going into it all quite thoroughly exhausted it was still great fun. We finished up just after 2 in the morning and they paid for taxis to take us home. Since we were filming on campus, I was really only 5 minutes from home, but given the hour I was quite happy to accept the cab though given all the one-way streets it took the cab longer to collect us and drive me there than it would have taken to walk.

So, you'll have to watch for Fiona's Story to come out and watch for me in the choir scenes!

But the singing's not over yet. Tonight we rehearse for our final performance of the year. This coming Wednesday we perform in the Kibble Palace (Botanical Gardens) as part of the annual West End Festival.

Skateboarding!

May is widely recognized as the most beautiful time of year in Glasgow—in Scotland really. Later in the summer is subject to hotter weather, muggier weather and colder rainier weather as well, all intermixed. But May is almost inevitably characterized by warm sunny days with cool breezes, with myriad types of flowers in bloom.

This is precisely the sort of weather we’ve been having when I was lured out into the park and onto a longboard. A longboard, for those of you not in the know, is a skateboard but—you guessed it—longer. It’s actually wider as well, all around a bigger board, though typically fairly low to the ground. This makes it much more stable for simply coasting around as opposed to the smaller more traditional boards whose shape and firmness is necessary for all those cool flips and grinds and other tricks. So, on Sunday I spent very little time on the longboard. There were three boards and four of us and I was in slightly-too-big sandals which are not the best footwear for such a sport. I clocked only about ten minutes total, but managed not to fall off the thing—leap off, stumble off, sometimes with a yelp of surprise, but not fall off.

Yesterday I came prepared in tennis shoes. I coasted around for a while with much the same results, though further impeded by the larger crowds of people, dogs, children, bikes, balls, and radio-controled-trucks.

Then the other skateboarders decided it would be fun to all go up this very mild hill. Beginners could go just a little ways up, and the more advanced people would go further up. It is a very very mild hill, mind you. The bottom of the slope I’d hardly dignify by the name if I was walking. Unfortunately, right at the base there is a huge metal cover (two yards across or more) that you have to dodge to one side of or the other. Oh, and turning right (lean on the balls of your feet) is easier than turning left (lean back on your heels). So I decided to go for the narrow strip between the metal cover of doom and the fencing of peril, and waited for a gap in pedestrian traffic. Now understand, I was only about four yards up this mild incline, by far the person furthest down this “slope” and this did not seem the least bit foolhardy…until it was time for me to pick up my breaking foot and get going. Well, what I hadn’t really paid attention to—concentrating as I was on missing the metal cover and not hitting pedestrians—is that in addition to sloping down the path, the edge of the path slopes off into the gutter to the right…which is edged by that metal fence I mentioned…and remember how it’s easier to turn right than left? Well I got past the metal cover fine going at my fastest speed yet (it can’t have been impressive to an outside observer though, alas) but I was in a tight right turn and the slope into the gutter wouldn’t let me out of it. As best I can recall I made some sort of attempt to leap off the board hoping to land on my feet and catch myself on the fence. It didn’t work out that way. In leaping I seem to have pushed off the board such that my feet came out from under me all the faster. There was a brief terrifying moment of being airborn……and then I hit asphalt. Well, they did say if you don’t fall off, you’re not trying hard enough.

Hip, arm, shoulder, hand and head all hit together; at least it distributed the force. I think the injury I resent the most is the one to my right thumb and hand. I had borrowed quite good hand protection, you see, but the protective bits were over the palm and the fronts of the fingers—what you’d land on if you fell forward and tried to catch yourself. I, on the other hand, managed to land on the side of my thumb, and the whole ball of my thumb got rather swollen and tender which has certainly made typing more hazardous. And picking things up, leaning on things, etc. I’m hoping my neck settles out soon though. It’s odd how these things work. I hit the ground on my right side…so now the left side of my neck hurts. Hmph. The rest of me was a bit bruised and rattled, but seems to be none the worse for wear today. Nonetheless, despite fellow boarders attempts to use quotes about getting back on the horse to goad me back into action, I think I’ll take a break from the wonders of longboarding.

Now if we could go windsurfing on the other hand…

The Backs of Things

All right, here are a few more pictures, this time from the National Museum of Scotland. I've now been to this museum twice--and I'm giving you one picture from each trip actually--and I think I've figured out something very important about me and museums containing nifty medieval things: I'd be much better off going alone. I adore Janet and I love Ron but neither can match my enthusiasm and, more problematic, both are prone to be bored stiff as I slow down to snap pictures and scribble down notes about things no matter how fast I try to be. The result is that it's too slow a trip for them to really have fun and too rushed a trip for me to be happy with the results. So I really need to be completely antisocial, catch a bus or train over to Edinburgh first thing in the morning well equipped with batteries and a notepad and then take careful non-blurry photographs with sufficient notes to tell me afterwards what I took pictures of.

Ok, enough ranting, now for the fun stuff. Well, one of the fun things about going to large museums is seeing the little things that aren't famous or anything, but reveal a lot about the material culture of the past. But one of the other fun things is seeing the really famous things but from other angles that never quite make it in the text books. So, here are two selections from the latter category: the backs of a few of the Lewis chessmen and the back of the Orkney hood. In both cases it was still hard to maneuver to the side of the case to get the shot--but it was well worth it.

I did get a few more interesting fabric related shots, for those of you crazy fellow geeks of medieval Scottish fiber arts as well as a couple other angles on the hood (the others have fingers or flashes etc; see above on going way too fast).

Archaeologists generally call the Orkney hood a "recycled" garment--made in part from left over or reused bits from another garment. One of the clues to this is in the back where you can see things don't all line up and hang as perfectly as in the front and the fringe doesn't quite reach all the way across.

As for those that label this a "child's" hood, though, I have to completely disagree--and the curator who arranged the hood seems to as well. It's sitting on a model of a full grown man's head and it fits just fine; I think this could easily be an adult hood.

Well, once I'm organized enough to figure out where to put pictures, I'll get some more up. Hope that will tide you over for now.

Broch and Roman Fort and Museum

Much archaeological fun was had the last few days!

I'll need to find a better forum for the bulk of the pictures but I'll give you a few highlights here...

Here we have an outside and inside view of a fairly well preserved midlands broch. These were round windowless fortresses built around 100BC - 100AD according to my handy book on ancient Scotland (it's a bit before my area of expertise!)

This particular broch is not owned by Historic Scotland and thus has no sign posts, no marked trail, no explanatory plaques. But Janet and I tracked it down and were very impressed. The walls of brochs are very thick--they're actually hollow for most of the broch with a stairway running inside and cells "hollowed" out of the parts where the spiral stair isn't. One story of the stair was left and on the opposite side one of the oval cells. And the entry lintal and the lintal leading to the stair were both still in place. Very cool!

Well, it turns out it's kicking out time in the cafe, so accounts of other adventures will have to wait! Stay tuned for more nifty archaeology!

Morning Travels and Trials

This morning I did something really impressive. I got up with my first alarm clock at 7am. Why? Because I wanted to go download drivers for my camera so I could pull the pictures off the memory stick so I would be able to take new pictures in Edinburgh today. So I got up at 7 all motivated, cooked breakfast (fed some to Ron who then went back to sleep for the half hour till he has to get up) and headed out to find an internet cafe...

First problem, Glasgow is *not* a city that never sleeps. And they don't seem to believe in having a cup a coffee to wake up before work either. I tried my closest regular haunts first which took me down to Great Western Rd, back across Bank St and then down Gibson St. Well, that took out five potential WiFi spots, but I had hope. I was sure iCafe and the Bay Tree Cafe both opened around 7 so back I went to trek further down Great Western. Neither Bay Tree nor iCafe were open. Most of these places don't actually post their hours but iCafe was nice enough to tell me I was a full hour early by this point since they open at 8:30. Well, since I was that far down Great Western I decided to slog onwards to check Bean Scene (the one by the M8 now being closer than the one on Ashton Ln I usually frequent. So, I hiked down Great Western to the M8...except Bean Scene, I recalled belatedly, isn't on Great Western, it's on Gibson St. Now for the non-Glasweigians in the audience, Great Western and Gibson St steadily diverge, so what was three blocks apart on my first zig and four apart on my next zag was now significantly more. And nor was there a single cross street leading from one to the other. So I cut down myriad little residential streets (discovering on the way the last remnents of what must have been a grand square in the 19th century...and one of the new buildings had some funny art I'd loved to have taken a picture of and posted here--if only I'd had a working camera!) until I finally rejoined Gibson St. At last I came to Bean Scene and--wow!--they were open.

So here I am...but, alas, Sony tells me my camera is incompatible with Vista.

That'll teach me to get up early!

April Snow?

If April showers bring May flowers than what does April snow and hail bring?

Yes, that's right, after a day and a half of glorious sunny spring weather, the tempature dropped suddenly on Satuday afternoon and that night it hailed and the next moring it snowed--enough to stick for a good while. Now today we're back to Glasgow's default weather--cold and overcast.

Ok, so for the more sober part of the blog. I had a bit of a self revelation on Sunday. I know I've stopped talking about it here, but some of you may remember me posting about my growing frustration at my church here in Glasgow. I had dropped out of the prayer group, but sunday sermons were still a weekly source of anger. It kept growing and growing till I'd be bracing myself before sermons or synically wondering what he would say to piss me off this time. Watching the all-male group of deacons distribute the bread and wine added a cynical edge even to communion (what? they really can't find even one woman worthy to be a deacon in the church? And people shrug it off as "a bit oldfashioned" but it's all of a piece!).

But I finally realized this Sunday that I'd fallen into the trap. I'd let my anger at the religious trappings interfear with my relationship with God. Where in the begining it had just driven me to prayer more--albeit often quiet rant-like prayers--I've hardly prayed at all recently. I haven't done any of the religious reading I meant to do. Spiritual contemplation doesn't even occur to me. So, it's time to take a deep breath and start repairing that relationship.