Today was a beautiful day! It started out rainy but quickly turned to bright sunny skies; a great day to work in the garden and read a book outside. Spring in the Northwest is beautiful!!!
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Life after grad school...
This year after graduation has been difficult for me. It is hard to believe that it has been nearly a year since graduation. After being in school for so long, I've suddenly found myself with my evenings and weekends free, with no assignments or papers due, and the chance to explore other interests. For those who have been around me the past 5 years and heard me bemoan the fact that I wasn't able to have a flower and vegetable garden, I finally have my garden! I covered my patio with pots of flowers and vegetables (radishes, peppers, lettuce, tomatoes, Brussels sprouts). It has been so much fun to pick out the vegetables and flowers and plant them...can't wait for the food they will produce! I've also begun taking banjo lessons and am now in my 7th month of lessons; it is so much fun! Stay tuned for music clips....
It has been an adjustment to life without school into a life of work. In some ways, I feel that I had to reground myself in Christ and refocus on seeking his glory and being an instrument available for his use in this next stage of life. I am in a great women's Bible study once a week and a friend I have known since 3rd grade also lives in Spokane which has been such a blessing to reconnect with her.
Blessings on your Saturday!
~Nancy
P.S. for those who have missed my smiling face, this is my professional photo...
Monday, June 29, 2009
Taking the next step...
June 30, 2009
Taking the next step: my testimony about how God brought me to my next career
Taking the next step: my testimony about how God brought me to my next career
For those of you who don’t know, I will be moving to Spokane Washington beginning a job on July 6th. I might be the only one who thinks this, but I feel very amused that one year ago I had declined a fourth year externship opportunity in Spokane and was preparing to move to Middlesbrough. I wonder if I took a year detour only to come back to where I was supposed to be. Or, maybe it wasn’t really a detour. The opportunity was with another company which still would have been a good opportunity but I don’t think I was the one ready to live there. This past week, several of my colleagues have made mention to the fact that I’m not the same person who came over to England last summer. Hmm, well, I have unfortunately put on some weight, I think my hair was grown a bit longer; I’ve developed faint crow’s feet around my eyes. Thankfully, this is not what they are referring to. Instead, I think they are pointing out the inward changes God has used this experience to develop in me. I learned a huge lesson in this hunt for a job.
In January, I began looking for a position in full force; using contacts to find out about open positions, posting my resume’ on several audiology job sites, sending out letters of inquiry to various places of interest. Every evening and weekend was spent refining my letter of introduction and resume’ and searching the web for more job openings. All my effort was greeted with…silence. No response. No interest. Discouragement set in. I remember when the job in Spokane opened online. I searched the website to find out more about what the job entailed but the description was cryptic. My mom encouraged me to apply for it for “the experience”. More than a little unenthused, I submitted my resume’ through the online application. Still nothing. I was becoming increasingly more discouraged. One night in April, I became angry at God; after all, I had been so diligent in seeking after a job and God wasn’t providing. I realized then that I had been doing this all in my own strength. I hadn’t bothered to seek God’s direction or tell Him of my desires. I think I was afraid that God might put me somewhere I didn’t want to be. I had to visualize the large burden of job hunting that I was carrying on my back and mentally place it before the cross of Christ and then visually walk away from it. I also prayed that the Holy Spirit would give me peace when I interviewed at the place God wanted me to be. I had to do this several times throughout the following days and weeks and when the anxiety of not having a job rose up, I reminded myself that it was released to God. Before I came home for graduation, I got the first response to one of my job applications. My mom e-mailed me that Spokane had contacted her and would like me to contact them when I was in town. Oh no, not Spokane! But, after all, I was just going to get more experience interviewing. Once back in Wenatchee, the phone call and e-mails began in full force; offers for interviews soon had my days and weeks filled. Some of the jobs had very appealing descriptions and I found myself imagining what it would be like to live in the area and work there. The first interview; the audiologist discouraged me from working there. The second interview; questions about the professionalism of the company. The third interview; I was told it was only a formality and that they already had someone in mind. The fourth interview; a good position but no peace about accepting it. My hopes were falling with the farewell handshake as I left each interview. One more interview left. I remember telling my friend Beth that those positions had appeared so good that if I wasn’t going to be hired at one of them then God must have somewhere really amazing waiting for me. I went to the Spokane interview still prepared to do my best in the interview process. As the interview proceeded, I had the revelation as the Holy Spirit moved in my spirit, this is where I was supposed to be! As I expressed my areas of interest in audiology, I was ecstatic to find that they were looking for someone with those interests. I toured the facilities and felt as if I already worked there. I wanted to be a part of this organization and their goals. Unlike the other places, I was excited to explore the surrounding area and spent the afternoon driving around the area. Driving back to Wenatchee the following day, I cried as I praised God for his faithfulness; not because I did anything to deserve His faithfulness, but because His character is faithfulness. I praised Him for the work he had been doing in my heart to prepare me to move to Spokane. When the job offer came, I knew with confidence what my answer would be.
I was speaking to a godly woman following the experience who pointed out that my experience was similar to when Samuel went to the house of Jesse to anoint a new king of Israel. Samuel looked at each son and saw their outward appearance and thought their attractiveness would make them suitable kings but God said ‘no’ to each until the unlikely youngest son, David, was brought before Samuel and God stirred Samuel’s heart to show him that this was His choice for king. Just like I was bedazzled with the glowing job descriptions of many of the places I had high hopes for working, God showed me clearly that these were not the places He had in mind. As I begin this new job in one week’s time, may I continue to seek God’s heart and direction in every aspect of my life. 
Sunday, June 28, 2009
For the last time
June 27, 2009
Today is my last weekend in the UK and so I decided to visit my favorite place, Whitby, one last time. I bought some fish and chips with mushy peas and sat on the beach eating them. What I love about Whitby is that the beach stretches a ¼ mile of sand to the water and miles around the cliffs, and, no one is ever on the beach enjoying it! I will really miss Whitby with it’s quaint shops, yummy lemon tops, and the sound of the constant roar of the sea playing music in the background. Whitby is where I came to get away from the rough industrial area of Middlesbrough to smell the fresh sea air, to hear the ocean, to gaze out at the North Sea. I wrote a little collection of verse for your enjoyment:
Today is my last weekend in the UK and so I decided to visit my favorite place, Whitby, one last time. I bought some fish and chips with mushy peas and sat on the beach eating them. What I love about Whitby is that the beach stretches a ¼ mile of sand to the water and miles around the cliffs, and, no one is ever on the beach enjoying it! I will really miss Whitby with it’s quaint shops, yummy lemon tops, and the sound of the constant roar of the sea playing music in the background. Whitby is where I came to get away from the rough industrial area of Middlesbrough to smell the fresh sea air, to hear the ocean, to gaze out at the North Sea. I wrote a little collection of verse for your enjoyment:
Goodbye my Whitby
My friend
With sands that stretch beyond
And cliffs that jut broadly
Waves that roar, birds that call
To find fish and chips left on the shore
Bells that chime to those
Who climb the 99
Quaint shops with treasures galore
Mainly gleaned from your shore
A haven for ships out at sea
Oh my friend will you always be
My Whitby
My friend
With sands that stretch beyond
And cliffs that jut broadly
Waves that roar, birds that call
To find fish and chips left on the shore
Bells that chime to those
Who climb the 99
Quaint shops with treasures galore
Mainly gleaned from your shore
A haven for ships out at sea
Oh my friend will you always be
My Whitby
Thoughts around graduation time
May 2009
“Those who abandon their dreams will discourage your.” When I discovered this quote just over a year ago, the words spoke to where I was at that point of my life; preparing to move to England. As graduation came around at the beginning of May, I was again contemplating this statement from two different angles. The first was to think back on those who did indeed try to discourage me; those who said that I wasn’t smart enough to go to college let alone graduate school, the speech and language pathology professor who, when I was considering audiology as a profession, told me that women shouldn’t be audiologists. And, the audiologist who told me that I would be over qualified and working for little pay and it wasn’t worth all the time and energy of graduate school. These people had either abandoned their dreams or let the difficulties of life create bitterness in their hearts for where they were in their lives. Out of their bitterness and disappointment, came discouragement to others.
“Those who abandon their dreams will discourage your.” When I discovered this quote just over a year ago, the words spoke to where I was at that point of my life; preparing to move to England. As graduation came around at the beginning of May, I was again contemplating this statement from two different angles. The first was to think back on those who did indeed try to discourage me; those who said that I wasn’t smart enough to go to college let alone graduate school, the speech and language pathology professor who, when I was considering audiology as a profession, told me that women shouldn’t be audiologists. And, the audiologist who told me that I would be over qualified and working for little pay and it wasn’t worth all the time and energy of graduate school. These people had either abandoned their dreams or let the difficulties of life create bitterness in their hearts for where they were in their lives. Out of their bitterness and disappointment, came discouragement to others.
The second angle was to think of those in my life who had encouraged me to where I am today. First would be my family who formed the basis of my education and relationship with God. My church family consisting of pastors, mentors, patriarchs and matriarchs of the church, the Patinas, and my Christian friends; those who because of their prayers, words of encouragement, and wisdom helped shape me into who I am now. Teachers throughout my childhood and youth; swimming, piano, all those people instilled in me the skills of discipline and hard work and spoke hard-to-hear truths into my life even when there were times I wanted to give up. Those from my California life; they lifted me up in friendship and encouraged me to pursue goals. Those from Pocatello; my friends and roommates who had to put up with late study nights and my frustrations. My ISU professors who helped me to grow my interest in audiology into a passion. It is amazing for me to think back on the encouragement these people put into my life and how my life has become a patchwork of their prayers, encouragement, words of wisdom, and truths. I am truly blessed!
Thinking on that phrase, I am reminded that my dreams are not what I can do, what job I obtain, what research I do. My dream is the hope I have in Christ; the hope that daily His Holy Spirit would work through me to touch those in my work with compassion, to speak words of truth into others lives, to bring encouragement to the depressed. There will be times that I will become discouraged at where I am in life, with others, with my job, but may I never abandon the dream that is my hope in Christ Jesus. 
Monday, April 20, 2009
Day 7 April Trip
April 1, 2009
The next morning, we ate our delicious home cooked meal of toast, sausage, eggs, beans, and tea. We wanted to get to Cheadle Hulme and then up to Manchester and back to Middlesbrough before too late. Boarding our bus, I was sure I could smell the putrid scent from the day before although April assured me that it wasn’t the same bus. At the train station in Stoke, April and I were rushing to our platform, oblivious to what was happening around us, when a man reached out to grab my arm and commanded us to stop. April and I had nearly walked onto the filming of a movie. On the opposite platform, 30 brightly dressed girls danced as the main actors ran by as if missing their train. No, we were not asked to be extras. Once in Cheadle Hulme, we were slightly disappointed to find it wasn’t the quaint and friendly little town that Cheadle Staffordshire had been as it is more of a suberb of Manchester. Unable to unload our wheeley suitcase and traveling on one of the warmest days of the year, we lugged the suitcase up and down the streets trying to find something to do or see. Passing a small corner grocers, we were both lured in by the advertisement of icecream which we bought a ½ gallon of toffee fudge and the owner even supplied us with spoons and paper towels. A woman told us about a plark and tudor hall to visit so we made our way bumping along residential roads until we arrived at Bramhall Hall. Collapsing on a bench, we dove into our icecream devouring it as if we were vagrants traveling from town to town and stopping at benches for a rest. Revived by our delicious ‘meal’, we were in the mood for exploring, after all, we had come all that way. Bramhall Hall is a tudor building meaning although the main entrance dates to medieval times
when everyone ate and slept in the same room , the rest of the house was built in tudor time
with more recent modifications being Victorian. The house is painted white and dark wood beams and woodwork make intricate designs. As we entered, we were greeted by 3 bookish men in their mid-late 60’s. It was like meeting April and myself in man form 40 years from now! It was clear that not many people our age visit the Hall or are interested in history. We had a personal tour through the Hall and I think April greatly enjoyed the room of generations of the Davenports all sporting the same nose; consanguinity! (this became our favorite word throughout our travels). At the end of the tour, we found our selves surrounded by the 3 tour guides who clearly did not want us to leave and very much wanted to impart their knowledge to us often citing from books over 100 years old! Finally able to pull ourselves away, we made our way back to the train station, back to Manchester, and then caught the train to Middlesbrough.
The next morning, we ate our delicious home cooked meal of toast, sausage, eggs, beans, and tea. We wanted to get to Cheadle Hulme and then up to Manchester and back to Middlesbrough before too late. Boarding our bus, I was sure I could smell the putrid scent from the day before although April assured me that it wasn’t the same bus. At the train station in Stoke, April and I were rushing to our platform, oblivious to what was happening around us, when a man reached out to grab my arm and commanded us to stop. April and I had nearly walked onto the filming of a movie. On the opposite platform, 30 brightly dressed girls danced as the main actors ran by as if missing their train. No, we were not asked to be extras. Once in Cheadle Hulme, we were slightly disappointed to find it wasn’t the quaint and friendly little town that Cheadle Staffordshire had been as it is more of a suberb of Manchester. Unable to unload our wheeley suitcase and traveling on one of the warmest days of the year, we lugged the suitcase up and down the streets trying to find something to do or see. Passing a small corner grocers, we were both lured in by the advertisement of icecream which we bought a ½ gallon of toffee fudge and the owner even supplied us with spoons and paper towels. A woman told us about a plark and tudor hall to visit so we made our way bumping along residential roads until we arrived at Bramhall Hall. Collapsing on a bench, we dove into our icecream devouring it as if we were vagrants traveling from town to town and stopping at benches for a rest. Revived by our delicious ‘meal’, we were in the mood for exploring, after all, we had come all that way. Bramhall Hall is a tudor building meaning although the main entrance dates to medieval times
when everyone ate and slept in the same room , the rest of the house was built in tudor time
with more recent modifications being Victorian. The house is painted white and dark wood beams and woodwork make intricate designs. As we entered, we were greeted by 3 bookish men in their mid-late 60’s. It was like meeting April and myself in man form 40 years from now! It was clear that not many people our age visit the Hall or are interested in history. We had a personal tour through the Hall and I think April greatly enjoyed the room of generations of the Davenports all sporting the same nose; consanguinity! (this became our favorite word throughout our travels). At the end of the tour, we found our selves surrounded by the 3 tour guides who clearly did not want us to leave and very much wanted to impart their knowledge to us often citing from books over 100 years old! Finally able to pull ourselves away, we made our way back to the train station, back to Manchester, and then caught the train to Middlesbrough. Day 6 April trip
March 31, 2009
We lingered a bit this morning at breakfast as our table was sat by the window and the sun was warm and bright. We went up to the local market only to discover that it catered to the majority population of Cheadle and offered full covered, belly button hiding under pants! Eventually we decided to try and find some of the pottery factories for which this area is known. We found our way to the Wedgwood and Royal Dalton stores and the Spode factory which is goin
g out of business and no longer offering tours. After some misdirection and lots of walking, we also found our way to the Wedgwood factory which is set outside the city and is a little community all its own. We missed the tour but enjoyed wandering through the store admiring the beautiful items we could never afford. There was one last bus to catch so we walked out in the middle of no where until the bus finally came only to discover that the bus was not going back to Stoke! We hurried to walk the mile back to the main road only to get stuck at the train crossing with all the Wedgewood employees. After waiting 30 min for the trains to pass, we walked quickly to the road where there was no bus stop but where I was determined to flag down any bus that went by. We had no idea if a bus would even pass. Eventually, a bus did come around the cornier and the astonished face of the driver who had dropped us off stared out the window. He stopped for us as I’m sure we looked like two lost and confused vagrants by the side of the road by a field and small cluster of houses. And back to Stoke we went. Exhausted and more than ready to be back in our cozy guest house resting our weary legs, April and I boarded the bus for the 30 min ride back to Cheadle. As we boarded the bus and handed the driver our day pass, a pungent odor assailed our nostrils. The front seats were occupied and we were met by other passengers escaping from the putrid smell. Stepping into the back section of the bus, our eyes beheld the source of the smell; peas and carrots swimming in stomach bile oozed across the seat. A burning sensation rose up in my throat. April and I quickly found seats and passed out mint chewing gum to the other passengers in hopes of easing the journey. Already delirious from our day of endless walking and chasing after buses, April and I dissolved into uncontrollable giggles. This was only heightened by each stop we made where unsuspecting travelers entered the bus and their faces would distort into disgusted looks and exclamations of “gross” as their eyes beheld the gruesome image. Making it back to Cheadle and leaving the ‘puke bus’ we spent the rest of the warm evening snapping photographs of the town already closed up for the night. In Cheadle 
Staffordshire, April and I found it lacking in American food and have decided to open and American diner offering burgers and hotdogs!
We lingered a bit this morning at breakfast as our table was sat by the window and the sun was warm and bright. We went up to the local market only to discover that it catered to the majority population of Cheadle and offered full covered, belly button hiding under pants! Eventually we decided to try and find some of the pottery factories for which this area is known. We found our way to the Wedgwood and Royal Dalton stores and the Spode factory which is goin
g out of business and no longer offering tours. After some misdirection and lots of walking, we also found our way to the Wedgwood factory which is set outside the city and is a little community all its own. We missed the tour but enjoyed wandering through the store admiring the beautiful items we could never afford. There was one last bus to catch so we walked out in the middle of no where until the bus finally came only to discover that the bus was not going back to Stoke! We hurried to walk the mile back to the main road only to get stuck at the train crossing with all the Wedgewood employees. After waiting 30 min for the trains to pass, we walked quickly to the road where there was no bus stop but where I was determined to flag down any bus that went by. We had no idea if a bus would even pass. Eventually, a bus did come around the cornier and the astonished face of the driver who had dropped us off stared out the window. He stopped for us as I’m sure we looked like two lost and confused vagrants by the side of the road by a field and small cluster of houses. And back to Stoke we went. Exhausted and more than ready to be back in our cozy guest house resting our weary legs, April and I boarded the bus for the 30 min ride back to Cheadle. As we boarded the bus and handed the driver our day pass, a pungent odor assailed our nostrils. The front seats were occupied and we were met by other passengers escaping from the putrid smell. Stepping into the back section of the bus, our eyes beheld the source of the smell; peas and carrots swimming in stomach bile oozed across the seat. A burning sensation rose up in my throat. April and I quickly found seats and passed out mint chewing gum to the other passengers in hopes of easing the journey. Already delirious from our day of endless walking and chasing after buses, April and I dissolved into uncontrollable giggles. This was only heightened by each stop we made where unsuspecting travelers entered the bus and their faces would distort into disgusted looks and exclamations of “gross” as their eyes beheld the gruesome image. Making it back to Cheadle and leaving the ‘puke bus’ we spent the rest of the warm evening snapping photographs of the town already closed up for the night. In Cheadle 
Staffordshire, April and I found it lacking in American food and have decided to open and American diner offering burgers and hotdogs!Saturday, April 18, 2009
Day 5 April's trip
March 29, 2009
We arrived into Manchester and after some helpful and not so helpful direction, ended up on a train to Stoke on Trent and then a bus to Cheadle Staffordshire. Once we had arrived, we were delighted to find ourselves in the quaint village of Cheadle. The bus had dropped us on the high street and we were unclear as to where to go so we inquired at Cheadle Hardware; a store owned by two sisters in their mid 50’s. They were able to point us in the right direction and we soon found ourselves arriving at a lovely brick hone where we were greeted by the owner and
her two dogs; Toby and Kara. April and I then wandered up to St. Giles, a gothic style Roman Catholic church an perused the graveyard before going up to another church and looking for ancestors among the numerous graved. Alas, we did not come across any Cheadles but did find a few Mellors. We wandered in and out of stores on the Cheadle high street and found it strange to see our surname on almost every building. We went into one store and were greeted by a man in his mid 20’s who tried hard to assure us that this feminine store was owned by his sister and that he was merely helping out. For tea, we went to a pub and I introduced April to steak pie and puddle pudding; not sure which she enjoyed more. Our host had provided us with chick flicks she thought we would enjoy so that night we fell asleep watching a DVD in our pink and flowery guest room. 
We arrived into Manchester and after some helpful and not so helpful direction, ended up on a train to Stoke on Trent and then a bus to Cheadle Staffordshire. Once we had arrived, we were delighted to find ourselves in the quaint village of Cheadle. The bus had dropped us on the high street and we were unclear as to where to go so we inquired at Cheadle Hardware; a store owned by two sisters in their mid 50’s. They were able to point us in the right direction and we soon found ourselves arriving at a lovely brick hone where we were greeted by the owner and
her two dogs; Toby and Kara. April and I then wandered up to St. Giles, a gothic style Roman Catholic church an perused the graveyard before going up to another church and looking for ancestors among the numerous graved. Alas, we did not come across any Cheadles but did find a few Mellors. We wandered in and out of stores on the Cheadle high street and found it strange to see our surname on almost every building. We went into one store and were greeted by a man in his mid 20’s who tried hard to assure us that this feminine store was owned by his sister and that he was merely helping out. For tea, we went to a pub and I introduced April to steak pie and puddle pudding; not sure which she enjoyed more. Our host had provided us with chick flicks she thought we would enjoy so that night we fell asleep watching a DVD in our pink and flowery guest room. Day 3 and 4 April's trip
March 28, 2009
Day 3 and 4 April's trip
Under pressure to finish writing the rest of April’s time here in the UK, I have decided to not give you a detailed play-by-play but more of a summary of the two days spent in Edinburgh.
We arrived early Saturday morning after an eventful time of trying to make our train (ask April if you want more details). We checked into our guesthouse which is a flat located on the fourth floor building just off Princes Street. It is also purported to be the childhood home of Robert Burns. We stayed in the Thistle room and as you may have already imagined, was decorated in a thistle theme. The first day April experienced the agony of walking miles and standing on a hard surface
as we toured the Edinburgh Castle and shopped the Royal Mile. That evening I introduced April to the yummyness that is sticky toffee pudding at the Tass which is a pub I had previously visited. At breakfast the next day, April was introduced to a traditional Scottish breakfast of toast, runny eggs, sausage, bacon, roasted tomato, and tea. We spent that day visiting an art museum, riding the tour bus going to the museum of childhood, and Grey Friar’s Bobby church and statue, and shopping for presents. At the end of the Royal Mile near the Palace of the Holyrood, we wandered into a little store. A lot of these tourist stores are run by Asians but this was owned and operated by a local woman. When we explained that we were a bit Scottish, she was very excited and wanted to know what clan we were from. Up till now, we had not been able to uncover a tartan for Cairns. In her well worn book of Scottish clans and surnames, the woman discovered that we are a sept of the 
MacGregor clan! Basically, the Cairns were too poor to commission their own tartan so the MacGregos’ agreed to let the Cairns wear their tartan if the Cairns would fight for them. I purchased a MacGregor tartan tam and April and I ran around proudly declaring “We are MacGregor!”. That evening, April tried the traditional Scottish meal of Haggis, neeps, and tatties which she actually enjoyed! That was the end to our a
dventure in Scotland and I think April was a bit sad to say goodbye to her bagpipe playing, kilt wearing Scotsman. Because we were leaving early the next morning for Manchester, our host family left us breakfast and sandwich making for which we were very grateful and thus began our adventure in Cheadle Staffordshire.
Under pressure to finish writing the rest of April’s time here in the UK, I have decided to not give you a detailed play-by-play but more of a summary of the two days spent in Edinburgh.
We arrived early Saturday morning after an eventful time of trying to make our train (ask April if you want more details). We checked into our guesthouse which is a flat located on the fourth floor building just off Princes Street. It is also purported to be the childhood home of Robert Burns. We stayed in the Thistle room and as you may have already imagined, was decorated in a thistle theme. The first day April experienced the agony of walking miles and standing on a hard surface
as we toured the Edinburgh Castle and shopped the Royal Mile. That evening I introduced April to the yummyness that is sticky toffee pudding at the Tass which is a pub I had previously visited. At breakfast the next day, April was introduced to a traditional Scottish breakfast of toast, runny eggs, sausage, bacon, roasted tomato, and tea. We spent that day visiting an art museum, riding the tour bus going to the museum of childhood, and Grey Friar’s Bobby church and statue, and shopping for presents. At the end of the Royal Mile near the Palace of the Holyrood, we wandered into a little store. A lot of these tourist stores are run by Asians but this was owned and operated by a local woman. When we explained that we were a bit Scottish, she was very excited and wanted to know what clan we were from. Up till now, we had not been able to uncover a tartan for Cairns. In her well worn book of Scottish clans and surnames, the woman discovered that we are a sept of the 
MacGregor clan! Basically, the Cairns were too poor to commission their own tartan so the MacGregos’ agreed to let the Cairns wear their tartan if the Cairns would fight for them. I purchased a MacGregor tartan tam and April and I ran around proudly declaring “We are MacGregor!”. That evening, April tried the traditional Scottish meal of Haggis, neeps, and tatties which she actually enjoyed! That was the end to our a
dventure in Scotland and I think April was a bit sad to say goodbye to her bagpipe playing, kilt wearing Scotsman. Because we were leaving early the next morning for Manchester, our host family left us breakfast and sandwich making for which we were very grateful and thus began our adventure in Cheadle Staffordshire. Friday, April 10, 2009
Day 2 April's visit
March 27, 2009
I decided to start April out on some easy traveling with a day trip to Whitby. We took the bus through the Moors. It was so nice to share my favorite place with April. I introduced her to fish and chips with mushy peas and she even liked the mushy peas! I think she will even admit that British fish and chips put American fish and chips to shame. We spent the day popping in and out of shops, going down to the beach and watching the wind blow the sand, and climbed the 199 steps to the abbey, St. Mary’s, and to play in the graveyard. We tried to get our nerve up to try kippers but neither was feeling very adventurous. April and I decided that the cute seaside cottages would make great vacation homes so we will be purchasing one; anyone want to lend us half a million pounds? J
I also treated April to a lemon top which I think by her expression she also enjoyed! We bought 2 cannon balls to go which gave us a sugar high that night but 
eventually we went to sleep with plans to wake early and catch our train to Edinburgh.
I decided to start April out on some easy traveling with a day trip to Whitby. We took the bus through the Moors. It was so nice to share my favorite place with April. I introduced her to fish and chips with mushy peas and she even liked the mushy peas! I think she will even admit that British fish and chips put American fish and chips to shame. We spent the day popping in and out of shops, going down to the beach and watching the wind blow the sand, and climbed the 199 steps to the abbey, St. Mary’s, and to play in the graveyard. We tried to get our nerve up to try kippers but neither was feeling very adventurous. April and I decided that the cute seaside cottages would make great vacation homes so we will be purchasing one; anyone want to lend us half a million pounds? J
I also treated April to a lemon top which I think by her expression she also enjoyed! We bought 2 cannon balls to go which gave us a sugar high that night but 
eventually we went to sleep with plans to wake early and catch our train to Edinburgh. Day 1 April's visit
March 26, 2009
This morning I woke bright and early to take the one hour bus ride to Tees Valley Airport to collect my sister, April, who had travelled nearly 24 hours to visit me for one week. A dazed and confused looking April walked through the doors of the airport and into the gray, windy, and rainy North East England. I had told her the weather would be pleasant as it had the few weeks prior; we were to learn that UK weather can go from extreme cold to extreme heat in one weeks time. Getting her back to my flat, I commanded her to go to sleep while I attempted to inflate a mattress which seemed opposed to holding any air I put in it for more than 30 minutes. When April finally woke up 6 hours later, I took her to experience a very British meal; a carvery. This consists of beef, gammon, or turkey mixed with Yorkshire pudding, parsnips, carrots, roasties, cheesy cauliflower, and covered with gravy. Following our scrumptious meal, I introduced April to the world of pub quizzing. I think the fast speaking; strong accented North Yorkshire residents present might have been a bit too much for April’s brain tonight. The N. Yorkshire/Smoggy accent isn’t the easiest to understand as it isn’t what most think of when they think of a British accent.
This morning I woke bright and early to take the one hour bus ride to Tees Valley Airport to collect my sister, April, who had travelled nearly 24 hours to visit me for one week. A dazed and confused looking April walked through the doors of the airport and into the gray, windy, and rainy North East England. I had told her the weather would be pleasant as it had the few weeks prior; we were to learn that UK weather can go from extreme cold to extreme heat in one weeks time. Getting her back to my flat, I commanded her to go to sleep while I attempted to inflate a mattress which seemed opposed to holding any air I put in it for more than 30 minutes. When April finally woke up 6 hours later, I took her to experience a very British meal; a carvery. This consists of beef, gammon, or turkey mixed with Yorkshire pudding, parsnips, carrots, roasties, cheesy cauliflower, and covered with gravy. Following our scrumptious meal, I introduced April to the world of pub quizzing. I think the fast speaking; strong accented North Yorkshire residents present might have been a bit too much for April’s brain tonight. The N. Yorkshire/Smoggy accent isn’t the easiest to understand as it isn’t what most think of when they think of a British accent.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Evidence of Spring
March 14, 2009
Evidence of Spring
Evidence of Spring
Today, as I walked to the corner grocers, I was pleased to see other evidence of spring bursting forth from the recently frozen ground. These are a species of daffodils indigenous to England. They grow wild up in the Cleveland Hills and along the motor ways. I think they are so beautiful and add such a nice bright color 
to the landscape.
to the landscape. Bums and Tums!
March 13, 2009
Bums and Tums!
My curiosity of strange and new foods has finally caught up to me. One can only have so much fish and chips, curry, and fudge before it starts impacting the fit of one’s clothes. I decided to take an exercise class at a local gym called Bums and Tums. It is a class that focuses on squats and LOTS of sit-ups. Fortunately, the class is all women but it is a bit discouraging when the instructor is a size 2 bubbly blonde who doesn’t even do the exercises but runs around encouraging all of us out-of-shape professional women to do “just one more set” of squats or sit ups. At the half hour mark, my quads and abs were burning and by the time the hour was up, my muscles were shaking and trembling so badly that I could hardly walk. The following day wasn’t so bad, but by Thursday I was walking as if I had spent the last 5 days on a horse, using the toilet was becoming a chore, and climbing the stairs to my flat might as well have been climbing Mt Everest. As the old saying goes, “no pain, no gain” so for now it is to the gym several times a week and backing off the local delicacies.
Bums and Tums!
My curiosity of strange and new foods has finally caught up to me. One can only have so much fish and chips, curry, and fudge before it starts impacting the fit of one’s clothes. I decided to take an exercise class at a local gym called Bums and Tums. It is a class that focuses on squats and LOTS of sit-ups. Fortunately, the class is all women but it is a bit discouraging when the instructor is a size 2 bubbly blonde who doesn’t even do the exercises but runs around encouraging all of us out-of-shape professional women to do “just one more set” of squats or sit ups. At the half hour mark, my quads and abs were burning and by the time the hour was up, my muscles were shaking and trembling so badly that I could hardly walk. The following day wasn’t so bad, but by Thursday I was walking as if I had spent the last 5 days on a horse, using the toilet was becoming a chore, and climbing the stairs to my flat might as well have been climbing Mt Everest. As the old saying goes, “no pain, no gain” so for now it is to the gym several times a week and backing off the local delicacies.
Fudge!
March 4, 2009
Fudge!
I thought I’d share with you all the yummy-ness that is Bedale chocolate-orange fudge.
Fudge!
I thought I’d share with you all the yummy-ness that is Bedale chocolate-orange fudge.
Second try
February 29, 2009
Try it again
I’m back at whitby again this weekend; yes, I made it without any bus mishaps. I always know that I am in Whitby because when I get off the bus I hear the sound of sea birds, I smell the sea; a mixture of water, fish, and old boats. This smell will change midday to the greasy smell of fish and chips. Church has just finished and I’m sitting in a quaint café drinking a hot chocolate and looking out the window and the Whitby Wyrm (a jewelry store) and a sweet shop where people are actually buying icecream even though it is near freezing outside! It’s much colder today than last week yet the streets are continuing to fill with tourists bustling in and out of the low shop doors. Church was interesting. I can now say that I have been to a Church of England/Anglican Church. There was only about 15 in the congregation and I was the youngest by at least 40 years. Many of the hymns were familiar to me although some of the wording was varied. The format is similar to Catholic churches I have attended; books for repetitious reading and written prayers. The people were very friendly but were confused as to why someone my age would be attending their church service; a clear reflection of the culture and how it has influenced my age group over here. No fish and chips for me today; I’ve brought a healthy snack for although I could eat fish and chips with mushy peas every day, they aren’t so good for the figure or my wallet :) I probably won’t get back to Whitby for some time now; probably not until April comes to visit and I take her for the fish and chips with mushy peas experience!
Try it again
I’m back at whitby again this weekend; yes, I made it without any bus mishaps. I always know that I am in Whitby because when I get off the bus I hear the sound of sea birds, I smell the sea; a mixture of water, fish, and old boats. This smell will change midday to the greasy smell of fish and chips. Church has just finished and I’m sitting in a quaint café drinking a hot chocolate and looking out the window and the Whitby Wyrm (a jewelry store) and a sweet shop where people are actually buying icecream even though it is near freezing outside! It’s much colder today than last week yet the streets are continuing to fill with tourists bustling in and out of the low shop doors. Church was interesting. I can now say that I have been to a Church of England/Anglican Church. There was only about 15 in the congregation and I was the youngest by at least 40 years. Many of the hymns were familiar to me although some of the wording was varied. The format is similar to Catholic churches I have attended; books for repetitious reading and written prayers. The people were very friendly but were confused as to why someone my age would be attending their church service; a clear reflection of the culture and how it has influenced my age group over here. No fish and chips for me today; I’ve brought a healthy snack for although I could eat fish and chips with mushy peas every day, they aren’t so good for the figure or my wallet :) I probably won’t get back to Whitby for some time now; probably not until April comes to visit and I take her for the fish and chips with mushy peas experience!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Wain Stones
February 28, 2009
Wain Stones
Today I went hiking with one of my colleagues up to the Wain Stones. I love hiking and being out in nature but most of these places are only accessible by car which is limiting to me. We
did a 3 mile loop up the mountain on a muddy path that threatened to suck my shoes off with each step, then up to the boulders. Does this one look like a face? It should because it is the sphinx stone. Across the ridge we walked, on stone slabs which were placed an unknown amount of years ago, making our way across fields of heather (this is the largest area of heather in England). Occasionally, a ring necked pheasant would fly up out of the heather in front of us. This walk is part of the Cleveland Way; a hike which stretches 109 miles across the Cleveland Hills. The route is marked with these signs that have an acorn. 
Next week I plan on doing the 7 mile hike from Whitby to Robin Hood’s Bay which is a course across the cliffs on the coastline. I’ll then catch a bus from Robin Hood’s Bay back to Middle
sbrough. Pray for good weather!
Wain Stones
Today I went hiking with one of my colleagues up to the Wain Stones. I love hiking and being out in nature but most of these places are only accessible by car which is limiting to me. We
did a 3 mile loop up the mountain on a muddy path that threatened to suck my shoes off with each step, then up to the boulders. Does this one look like a face? It should because it is the sphinx stone. Across the ridge we walked, on stone slabs which were placed an unknown amount of years ago, making our way across fields of heather (this is the largest area of heather in England). Occasionally, a ring necked pheasant would fly up out of the heather in front of us. This walk is part of the Cleveland Way; a hike which stretches 109 miles across the Cleveland Hills. The route is marked with these signs that have an acorn. Next week I plan on doing the 7 mile hike from Whitby to Robin Hood’s Bay which is a course across the cliffs on the coastline. I’ll then catch a bus from Robin Hood’s Bay back to Middle
sbrough. Pray for good weather!
Monday, February 23, 2009
Pancake Day!!!
I just found out that tomorrow is Pancake Day!! I guess this is a national holiday and everyone makes pancakes for the evening meal. Even the stores had displays just for pancakes makings!! The pancakes are more like what we would call a crepe' (very thin and can be consumed in three bites) but of course that is French so they call them pancakes here. The most common way to eat them is to spoon white sugar and then pour a bit of lemon juice in the middle and roll it up and eat it. I've also had pancakes with nutella, cheese, and an icecream bar. Tomorrow Jane and I will be making a plate full and then meeting up with some other residents of the hospital accomodations to add the toppings and then play Balderdash.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Spring!
Well, not quite spring but today I saw these small white flowers which I think are some type of crocus. These are the first flowers to have emerged and give me hope that spring with warmer weather and more beautiful flowers is right around the corner!
Best laid plans
February 22, 2009
Best laid plans
A couple days ago I got the bright idea to go to Whitby. As it is my favorite place near Middlesbrough and I haven’t been in 2009, I figured that it was about time for a visit. But, what should I do or see this time? Church! St. Mary’s is my favorite parish church so why not go to Whitby on Sunday and go to church at St. Mary’s? I spent Friday evening planning bus schedules and looking up service times and by this morning, I was ready to go. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day; by the time I caught the 8:45 am bus, the sun had burnt through the clouds, warming the earth, and creating a brilliant blue sky. I hopped on the bus to take me to Whitby. Through the countryside we went, past the little villages and fields of sheep heavily laden with their winter fleece. Up, up we went on the narrow winding country road to take us to the top of the moors. Then, slow, slow we crawled to the grassy shoulder. As cars whizzed by us, I assumed the driver was allowing the cars that had formed a train behind us to pass. Groan. Stop. Sputter, sputter, cough, cough, the old bus replied to each turn of the key. Stuck. In the middle of the Yorkshire Moors, the 93 bus to Scarborough calling at Whitby decided to stop and die. The driver tried to reach the depot on the radio; no answer. He tried his cell phone; no reception. He tried a passenger’s cell phone; lost reception. For over an hour we sat, 4 passengers and one driver. It is amazing how much influence the mind has when confronted with a situation such as being stranded. I suddenly found myself to be starving; would I starve to death before being rescued? I suddenly needed the toilet desperately; what patch of heather would afford the most privacy? Finally, the next bus to come along stopped and collected us. By this time, it was well past the church service start time. Arriving in Whitby, I wandered out to
the end of the pier-a place I had never been but is amazing as it juts out into the churning waves making one feel small and insignificant as they are surrounded by the North Sea. I wandered the shops; I can always find some quirky amusements to entertain myself. I stopped in for fish and chips with mushy peas at Hadley’s and then decided to climb the 199 steps to St. Mary’s. After services, the church is open for visitors so I wandered through the church appreciating the beautiful woodwork which resembles ship architecture; suitable for the area. With ominous thunder clouds beginning to roll across the moors, I quickly bought a lemon top (vanilla icecream with lemon icecream on top) and then boarded a bus suspiciously resembling the one from earlier, and headed back to Middlesbrough. This time I made it back without incident. Maybe I’ll try again next week….
Best laid plans
A couple days ago I got the bright idea to go to Whitby. As it is my favorite place near Middlesbrough and I haven’t been in 2009, I figured that it was about time for a visit. But, what should I do or see this time? Church! St. Mary’s is my favorite parish church so why not go to Whitby on Sunday and go to church at St. Mary’s? I spent Friday evening planning bus schedules and looking up service times and by this morning, I was ready to go. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day; by the time I caught the 8:45 am bus, the sun had burnt through the clouds, warming the earth, and creating a brilliant blue sky. I hopped on the bus to take me to Whitby. Through the countryside we went, past the little villages and fields of sheep heavily laden with their winter fleece. Up, up we went on the narrow winding country road to take us to the top of the moors. Then, slow, slow we crawled to the grassy shoulder. As cars whizzed by us, I assumed the driver was allowing the cars that had formed a train behind us to pass. Groan. Stop. Sputter, sputter, cough, cough, the old bus replied to each turn of the key. Stuck. In the middle of the Yorkshire Moors, the 93 bus to Scarborough calling at Whitby decided to stop and die. The driver tried to reach the depot on the radio; no answer. He tried his cell phone; no reception. He tried a passenger’s cell phone; lost reception. For over an hour we sat, 4 passengers and one driver. It is amazing how much influence the mind has when confronted with a situation such as being stranded. I suddenly found myself to be starving; would I starve to death before being rescued? I suddenly needed the toilet desperately; what patch of heather would afford the most privacy? Finally, the next bus to come along stopped and collected us. By this time, it was well past the church service start time. Arriving in Whitby, I wandered out to
the end of the pier-a place I had never been but is amazing as it juts out into the churning waves making one feel small and insignificant as they are surrounded by the North Sea. I wandered the shops; I can always find some quirky amusements to entertain myself. I stopped in for fish and chips with mushy peas at Hadley’s and then decided to climb the 199 steps to St. Mary’s. After services, the church is open for visitors so I wandered through the church appreciating the beautiful woodwork which resembles ship architecture; suitable for the area. With ominous thunder clouds beginning to roll across the moors, I quickly bought a lemon top (vanilla icecream with lemon icecream on top) and then boarded a bus suspiciously resembling the one from earlier, and headed back to Middlesbrough. This time I made it back without incident. Maybe I’ll try again next week….
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
