Cool Cucumber

This is Cleo’s newest relaxation destination during the hottest months. The old paper box was just waiting to be taken out to the dumpster when she discovered it. Now I get to keep it around… sigh!

 

3 Comments »

As some of you know, I am recently back from France and England. While I expected superb coffee from Paris, before I left I was extremely worried about how I would keep my caffeine habit going in England. The British are known for their tea, not their coffee. Panic ensued, as any coffee drinker could imagine.

So to be prepared, I created coffee bags, to be used like tea bags in the hot water that was offered. Here’s how I made 8 emergency coffee bags:

First, I cut 16 coffee filters into 4×4-inch squares. I lined up two filter squares, then used my WONDERFUL sewing machine to sew 3 of its sides.

Then I scooped 4 tablespoons of medium-ground, locally roasted coffee into each of the pouches. (YES, I like my coffee strong. You could probably get away with just 2 tablespoons. If you’re a wimp, that is.)

Next, I used my sewing machine to sew that last side snugly.

Now I was ready for England and all of its weak coffee!

I was saddened when I discovered that the coffee in England was not so bad. Not comparable to the French coffee I had experienced in the week prior; however, drinkable.

I was only able to use one of my coffee bags.

No Comments »

One result of trying to recover from my recent trip to France and England is that I am waking up ridiculously early and wanting to fall asleep at 8:00 PM. While I’d love to be sleeping right now, I think the next best option would be to tell about the West End play my group saw while we were in London. It was called Whistle Down the Wind.

On first glance at the advertisement you’ll notice that Andrew Lloyd Webber did the music- so it must be quality, right? I’ll touch on that later. And you also see that right after the title of the musical, they’ve added “the hit musical”. Um, not so much. I’m also very amused by whomever made the comment at the top of the poster…. “don’t miss this musical triumph”. Were they taking drugs when they saw it?

Let me just start out by saying that I’ve been to my share of weird/crazy churches in my life. I’ve also attended a lot of genuine, warm, non-showy churches, but the memory of those bad ones will always stick. This musical made me feel like I was in a dysfunctional church again, like I couldn’t leave before the final alter call. The opening number was a virtual sermon about hellfire and damnation and that’s where my squirming began.

The basic plot that follows is this: Three children are in rural America in the 50’s, trying to cope with their mother’s recent death and their family’s lack of money for a proper Christmas. Did I say America? Yes, the London actors and actresses did their best to imitate an American accent; however, it just ended up sounding like they were talking with rocks stuffed in their mouths. The family is a devout bunch of Christians; the type that bring Jesus into almost any conversation, nauseatingly so, such as, “If you prayed to Jesus then maybe he will give you ______________” (fill in the blank). I guess as a Christian, I felt that these ones were portrayed as hopelessly moronic. Maybe it was poor acting- or perhaps it was other things.

What follows the awkward opening number is a number of stiff songs with hardly any choreography in which the characters, with arms stiff at their sides, lift their heads dramatically and open their mouths with passionate song to the audience. It doesn’t work. I felt nothing. They didn’t give me any basis from which to like them or feel their story, so when they got emotional in the first 10 minutes I tuned out. Okay, I may have started giggling. Next, the righteous townfolk (everyone is stereotyped in this musical) are spreading the alert that a murderer has escaped from the local jail. The oldest girl, who is 15, discovers a strange man sleeping in her family’s barn, whom she startles when she asks who he is. “Jesus Christ!” escapes his lips when he sees her, and from that moment on the play does a nosedive. The children are all called in the barn because they are convinced this is the Savior’s return and so they sit at the murderer’s feet. They notice that his hands are bloodied… and so are his feet. DEFINITELY Jesus. “Don’t you remember, they tell us every Sunday that one day he will return and those that fail to recognize him will burn in a fiery hell.” The children devote themselves to the confused murderer, saying they will do anything he wants them to.

The play doesn’t get much better from here. “Jesus” sings with noticable problems staying on pitch, and the other problems which are presented (racial strife, coming-of-age issues) don’t seem quite real. The lack of choreography really stood out at me as well. While I think that the director probably wanted something stark and simplistic, the end effect was fluff and overemotionalism. The songs were equally ineffective as they used almost every cliche in the book in the most insipid plot known to man. Here’s one example:

No matter what they tell us, no matter what they do
No matter what they teach us, what we believe is true
(Hmmm, this seems to be the theme of Whistle Down the Wind- blind faith in anything. Lovely.) Another gem:

The devil doesn’t rest
So wrestle with the devil till you take him, until he’s finally, cold and dead
He’s there in the reflections on the river skimming by
He’s there in the clouds as they blacken the sky
He’s there in your bedroom, He can crawl into your dreams

And the finale:

So try and stem the tide, then you’ll raise a banner
Send a flare up in the sky, try to burn a torch
And try to build a bonfire
Every signal that you send, until the very end, I’m there
So whistle down the wind, for I have always been right there

Low point in the play: when “Jesus” tries to make out with the oldest daughter. Yuck… the kids in my group couldn’t stop talking about the creepiness of that one.

I admit that hearing things like this made me giggle and shake my head in astonishment that all of the actors on stage were sincere. They truly believed in this play, with a blind “no matter what they tell us” faith. As for me- I wanted everyone in the musical to just quickly say their lines and sing their songs so we could all go home. When it finally DID end, the crowd (composed mostly of tour groups like ours… likely the reason this play is still running) erupted into scattered, confused applause as if to say, ‘I never thought this moment would come.’ I have never been so grateful to leave the theater.

3 Comments »

Two weeks. 39 middle-schoolers. Two of my favorite co-workers. One nasty cold (still recuperating). That’s about all I have to say about the trip I just returned from. Nah, just kidding. I have some things to share, but I will try to be brief here. No one wants to read my entire travel journal, do they?

The trip that our students signed up for was centered around the highlights of Paris and London, with a little bit of Caen (France) and Oxford (England) thrown in. I’ll show some of my best photos and experiences here:

Below is an example of one of the delicious meals we had in France. These pasta tubes were fried and filled with ricotta and bolognese. We finished the meal with an equally yummy pear/almond tart.

A favorite moment was eating frog legs and escargot (and convincing almost every kid to try both!) at Cafe Montmartre.

There was HEAVENLY cappuccino at every turn in France. Liz and I made it a goal to get high quality espress at least twice or three times daily. This plan worked quite well in France, but disintegrated upon arrival in England.

There was true joy in finally getting off the overnight ferry from Caen to Portsmouth. We had shared a cabin with our other leader from Florida, and due to our large bags, found that we had to store our luggage in a locked room. This was one of the lowest moments because it was a complete surprise and we were all exhausted from the homesick phone calls that the students had made just before boarding. This night on the ferry involved sleeping in our clothes, no brushing of teeth, and hardly any sleep due to a strange beeping sound that came from the walls.

Sitting across from me in Oxford were Liz and Melissa as we went punting (in other words, sitting in a low boat while a standing man at the back pushes you along, using a long pole).

Here’s a photo I snapped in the flower garden outside the birthplace of William Shakespeare. It had been raining all day, which was a welcome change from the heat wave that we had previously tolerated.

Riding the London Eye (largest Ferris wheel in the world) was a bit terrifying for a girl who doesn’t appreciate heights to the fullest, but I didn’t let that stop me from enjoying the scenery.

These don’t seem to completely tell the stories I would to like without the kids in them, but just try and imagine 39 students, ages 11-13, in these photos.

If you’d like to see more, please visit my photos page.

To conclude, I saw a lot of wonderful things in both France and England. I grew to appreciate England more than previously. I saw a lot of things that I couldn’t do with the kids, but would like to experience the next time I visit (for example, the little sidewalk cafes in Paris; the complimentary bottle of wine that comes with a punting trip). Even though I was on-duty 24 hours a day, for 2 weeks straight, and I never quite got 8 hours of sleep, I am glad I had this experience. I think that the kids we took with us learned a lot and were able to get out of their comfort zones to see that they enjoyed things that they never thought they would. So the trip was certainly a success.

Next blog post: the most horrific London West-End musical ever!

3 Comments »