In America apparently I'm a Woman

My grandma relayed a little conversation she had yesterday with a neighbor.
It was a hot one, sunny, but the threat of rain was in the air which is why my dad was desperate to get as much hay off the fields as possible. Yes, I live on a farm and we were baling hay. It's not often that people just say, "oh, i baled hay all day". Anyway, you need to bale the alfalfa, grass and whatnot while it was dry. My dad and I were unloading wagons loaded up the night before. He was in the haymow (upstairs of a barn, storage) whilst I was on the wagon placing the bales on the elevator (like an escalator for bales, carrying them up into the barn) pretty tired, and the bales were heavy. Our neighbor who must be in his seventies, had seen this. He came by and told my grandma of the converstaion he had with his wife in observing my gruelling work not knowing it was me.

Donnie: "Why, would ya look at that. Look how hard one of Jim's (my father) daughters is working in this heat. What do you think. Should I go over and help her?"
His Wife: "Well, I don't know"
Donnie: "Maybe I should. Can't have her lugging those bales around by herself."
His Wife: "Well I don't know Donnie. Judging by the way she is throwing those bales around like that, I don't think she really needs ya."

He came over later talking to grandma, and she laughingly told them it was me. Well now, I know that it's getting a bit long and shaggy, but I truly can't believe that I am now being mistaken for a beautiful (I'm sure) woman. Never thought that would happen. Sure, I got a slim face and all... It's tough growing out your hair with little support. My mom and sisters hate it, and practically gag when they have to look at me. My manager at the bakery thinks it makes me look a lot thinner in the face and kinda gaunt, and the old workers at the restaurant just don't think that shaggy hair suits their image of "Brandon", the golden boy of last summer. I know there are plenty of others who don't like it either, and prefer a clean cut guy. Across the seas, this may have been ok, but people who know me are appalled.

There are two, maybe three people that support me in my cause. Tara at work, who always has had a thing (not for me, no worries mary) for guys with long hair, and my pop, who had long locks back in the late seventies and 80's and for all I know is proud of a son who wants to live in such a golden era. The third questionable character is my girlfriend Mary, who in the end maybe is only being supportive, not that I question her opinion. THe way I see it, this is my last chance to really grow it out and "let my hair down" before I start my carreer in teaching. I will probably have to be clean cut, and looking sharp for the rest of my life. I am determined to make it through the summer til Luther, and will then cut it maybe in October. We will see how attached I get to it.

Liminal Spaces

This is the long anticipated, retrospective blog on my feelings as far as wrapping up my year in England and also talking about all those goofy mixed up feelings of coming home. Well, I hope to get there if I don't fall asleep first. One would think that people understand what jet lag is, but apparently my manager at Great Harvest Bakery does not understand this concept and has scheduled me to open the bakery today, my second day home, and the following two mornings. This means I wake up at 4:45 in the morning to head on in to the dark building to begin making scones, cookies, muffins and whatnot as I am the designated morning sweets man. Normally I don't mind this early shift, but three days in a row the day after I got back from a foreign country. Pllllleeeeaaasssee! Honestly, give me a break, she is just not the smartest cookie in a six pack of our famous Oatmeal Choc and Walnut Cookies. She's alright but definetely is not being considerate here. So my body is aching and partially damaged not able to recover from being sick the night before I left England, and also not finding time to adjust to my old life. I've been working a fair amount around the farm to, so I am fully in the swing of things, and it's only my second day home. I just started to unpack this afternoon.
All things aside I also am missing Mary all the way over in Italy with her sister Catherine and friend (they share her)Karrisa(?). We've gotten quite used to having the other conveniantly within a few paces of my bedroom door, and basically always in arms reach for a hug. Will be a challenge, but we will do well. She'll make the first visit here to the farm in early July, and I am so excited already.
Well if I didn't know I was in america... There has been a huge weather advisory for the whole state, and I'm assuming much of my fellow Notters homelands as gusty winds are sweeping in. Some tornado damage was caused in the center of the state. This would never happen in England. the weather is just one more base, typically unchanging and uneventful characteristic of living there. They don't experience extremes in temperature, hardly any extreme weather. a breezy day is enough to make people a bit skittish, and a quarter inch of snow shuts the city down. America is for the rugged, folks who like things to be extreme and always unexpected.
I never realized our forks and spoons were so small. Never in my life, but now I find it very shocking. I didn't realize just how large the silverware was back at the flat until after I got used to it and left. Some of those spoons there hardly fit into my mouth, but I guiltily admit it was nice to be able to shovel food at such a quicker rate. Actually, I have found that I am below average in speed as an eater. About third to last in the flat from finishing, which is a good thing. Good for digestion at least. Still always eat cereal like a madman. My main tactic is to never have my mouth empty. Really, our cutlery is so tiny, I thought I was using Kadin sized dishes. Very strange. Alright, time to get some shuteye. Signing out, but hopefully I will find time to keep this blog rolling with something interesting from the monotany of summer working.

Alien Abduction and the Fires of Hell

I intended to write this blog a week ago when many of these first pictures were taken, but time really runs away from you when you have a massive paper to work on, and an essay to study for, not to mention grabbing a pint every now and again. Well lets see, a day in the week of Brandon...
Last Saturday, Half the flat, enough to squeeze into the back of Mark and Carol's car. We were off for a day trip to Hardwick Hall, another one of the many grand estates built throughout the 18th and 19th centuries in England. Before arriving at Hardwick we made what was supposed to be a "quick" stop in the little town of Makeney to see their well. Well-dressing is a very old tradition in many of the small towns of England, and they make mini works of art for the occasion like the board above. It is always decorated with flower petals, seeds and other bits and pieces of plants. very intricate work and actually quite impressive. Our quick stop became near 2 hours in order to hang around for their light hearted ceremony of Morris Dancing. Many towns take this occasion very seriously, but not Makeney. They theme the pagan celebration every year and this year it was after the TV show "Dr. Who" which stumped even the TV whiz kid Kevin. It apparently is a popular and older tv show that involves aliens and investigators.
Note the "alien" costumes.

Next stop, was at a little Flour Mill still run on a waterwheel that is still in operation but also turned into a museum. Got to see everything operate watching the whole process down to the bag at the base. Very impressive. I think this has sparked a new plan for the future. After becoming a teacher for a few decades and then becoming a landscape architect for the second half of my life, I will finally retire, by or build a water powered flour mill and run a bread bakery made from fresh, stone ground flour daily. Boy would that stuff sell! I like my life plan, now if only there were no unforseen obstacles to get in my way.
This particular House was at one time one of the grandest in all of England. It was built by the wealthy Bess of Hardwick, who was in fact so wealthy she was second only to Queen Elizabeth I herself, and entertained many royal and imperial guests. Bess ran many different estates including another one that we had been too which was Chatsworth. (see earlier blog from fall).
Most of these windows arent't even functional. Gotta keep that symmetry.
By the last 15 minutes before we left, it started pouring rain. Snatched a bag of the best crisps I've had this year on our sprint to the carlot, and drove bumpily home.
The Landscape of Derbyshire, beautiful. Right before the clouds came in.

Tuesday:
Kevin's 21st Birthday
Fun night celebrating both these folks special days. Got started late (around 10:15 we actually left the house which was mistake number one) and then, we arrive at the tram stop to take us into town to go out, and there is an announcement that there has been a car accident further up the line and the trams are out of service until its cleaned up. Now we have to spend the next half hour walking up to a stop where the trams are in operation. This gets us into town near 11. Too late to go to all the places we had wanted and we have to settle for a few less than preferable city pubs. At least the first Hog's Head had nothing impressive. Lloyds, in the location of an old bank was actually pretty cool and open til 2 so we settled there for a while. Ended up being a short night and everyone caught the last tram home and was in bed by 2. Earlier night than most oddly enough.
Wednesday:
Hilary's 21st Birthday
Sorry I don't have pictures of you and your cake Hil, but I wasn't there for the unveiling of another one of Carol's wonderments.
Carol always tries her best to theme here cakes or make them as much to the Birthday boy or girls tastes as possible. Can you guess what Kevin's is....

It's a TV Remote! That is absolutely Hilarious. She hit that one right on the head. She used all kinds of different kinds of candy for the buttons. Wrote numbers on all of them, and had Power written in frosting, along with all the standard vcr buttons. Modeled off ther real things she says. Absolutely Brilliant!


Tonight, Friday I was supposed to be going to the last Football home game for the Nottingham Forest Team, yet sadly I found out last second that prices were double than normal and above my humble means of survival. Everyone else went and had a great time. Thus, I was at home debating about watching it at a pub, wandering the neighborhood streets trying to find a pub that televised the game on Skye sports and found none, and decided to just bum around home. On the walk back to the flat I noticed a lot of smoke in the sky. Walking more quickly, I dashed into the flat grabbed my camera in case some rare oppurtunity like a massive explosion were to occur (i was not wishing, but one must be prepared) and rushed out to investigate.
Turns out that the Fireplace factory near our flat, set in the dingy and dangerous streets across Bobbers Mill Bridge had caught fire. Not anything too extraordinary, but since I now sit wondering if the Forest have won or lost and right this to you folks instead of yelling myself raw at the game I gotta cling to what excitement I can find. First fire this year, and that's a good thing!

Lulled into Relaxation

Just thought i would toss in a old pick of my little buddy Kadin. I miss this guy! What a cool dude huh. Got a bit of pudge around the middle too. We'll see how much my bro has grown over these last 9 months. Mom keeps telling me he has grown a lot and his speech has accelerated and improved so much since I left. He grew at least 2 inches I think. I'll have to check on that.
Look at these hard asses! Good guys, better directors. from right to left, Dominik from Austria, Fu and our third assistant director Brynn. They worked hard to make our play a truly entertaining show and it turned out so well. Life has calmed significantly since.
Back to make delightful desserts, and other delicacies. Look ma, this is my attempt to make something like your famous fruit pizza dessert. Looks better than yours but it definetely suffers in quality. I have the wrong kind of crust underneath from what yours is, but it still was excellent.
Notice I made the Kiwis in the middle into pedals and made a small flower. Yeah, creative genius at work. Made my blueberry poundcake again on thursday along with a southern potato salad for the second time. Both are delicious recipes and believe me mom and dad, you will be tasting both very soon. Already copied down the recipes. don't expect too much out of fancy meals, but I have the desserts covered.
Last Saturday, mary and I took a short day trip to Neustad Abbey which is just outside the city of Nottingham. It's only a short 1/2 hour bus ride out of the city. The following is a bit of a lengthy journal entry about the experience... read as far as your eyelids are willing.


Mary and I left today for Newstead Abbey around 11:30 under a dreary sky, with promising patches of clearing. This has been one of the biggest goals of mine to reach all this semester since January. I almost took mary for Valentine’s day back in February and then decided that the season wasn’t right and promised her and myself to visit the place in May when the flowers had bloomed and the sun was shining. I really wanted it to be a sunny and beautiful day to draw out all the wonderful sights the place truly has to offer. In leaving I was a bit disappointed and mildly depressed over this lack of sun.
As we got off the bus at the gates, a mile from the abbey the sun had finally burst from the clouds and boy was I glad to see it. The walk was pleasant and the temperature perfect. Couldn’t have asked for a better day. It was funny how we got back on the bus, and when we arrived back in Nottingham the skies had returned to their grey, overcast nature. It’s as if the bus transported us to a whole separate world away from the smothering and bustling city. The abbey was as beautiful as I had expected in pictures. What I wasn’t expecting was how impressively the old abbey from before the mid-1500’s was converted into such a beautiful and readily liveable estate. I was actually of the mind that the abbey was an impressive pile of ruins, with lots of its original structure still standing and Byron’s home was somewhere nearby which is very far from the truth. The Byron family line moved into the place immediately after King Henry VIII forced the dissolution of the monasteries sometime in the 1540’s. They picked up from the ruins and transformed it from its original stone into quite the estate. It was passed down through the family through 6 generations of Byrons, until our famous Lord Byron the Poet came into possession of it in the early 19th century. He was pure despite his fame as a writer and could do little for the crumbling property besides fixing up a few small rooms, and thus had to put it up for sale. A good friend from school named Wilderman or something like that bought the place for a hefty 96,000 L. Thank goodness he did, because half of all the nice renovations we see today apparently came through his ownership and he nursed the mansion back into a respectable estate. It’s funny what a little money can do, and how much easier it makes your life.
Mary and I had lunch as soon as we had gotten there, just in front of the abbey out on the lawn alongside the lake. Read some poetry, fed an interested pair of ducks who waddled over while reading, and then packed up to check out the house. I was impressed. The house was well furnished and had some warmer touches. I like how the first room immediately gives the viewer a very good impression of how this house was once owned by a man’s man, a bachelor with interests in boxing, shooting pistols and other hunting exploits. Sets the proper mood, even though much of the house is very tasteful. In all the house, one placard surprised me. It talked of Lord Byron’s fame. He is considered by some to be the first “pop” idol. He set standards of dress and behaviour, breaking the typical mode and creating his own style seducing women of all types and impressing men. The only problem was at the end of the paragraph it talked about how he sadly died at the young age of 36, and the world was so broken up by his death such that it has never been affected in such a way until that of Princess Diana. Only in ones own home can you get away with such a bold and ridiculous statement. We just laughed and moved on. May his fame last forever.
We finished off with a pleasant stroll through the gardens. It was nice to see so many families out with their kids. I loved it. Children’s laughter was everywhere and constantly reminded me of Kadin. I can’t get my mind off the kid. Whether it is some 4 year old punk laughing evilly like a maniac, or bawling their eyes out at the injustice of life under the might of a mom, I can’t help but smile when I see them. I miss you buddy, and it’s a comfort to know there is only a month left til I see you again. The gardens were nice, but not overly impressive. I noticed in the house there were some themed rooms such as the Japanese room which was one of my favorites and to match there was a Japanese garden in the far back with lots of rocks and stepping stones across little ponds and stone bridges that fit right in with the lush green surroundings. Then on through the Venetian, and American Gardens. Again nothing too impressive, but just a beautiful space to walk around in. It was nice always having the lack to one side and the Abbey as a backdrop to such a beauty. A place that I could feel myself falling back through time. We did not manage to find Byron’s Oak that he devoted a poem to, but I heard there wasn’t much left to see anyway. Still, got a good sense of what a good life a person could live way out here in such seclusion, yet how worthy it was to have such distinguished, royal guests at times. A mesmerizing place that I would love to visit again someday. I couldn’t imagine anyone coming to Nottingham and not taking a short day to visit this gem from history.

Bringing some color to my trip

Well here are all the pics missing from my previous posts about Europe. They are pretty mixed up and thus not in order at all. Just enjoy for what they are and you can get a taste of all the wonderful places I've seen and the friends I've made along the way. Sorry for the disorganization. Funky Tree Climbing
Delicious Chocolate desserts in Fontanella Cafe at Mdina. Worth the trip and every Lira.
Another leap of faith...
My Maltese hosts, some are Luther friends, and others are new friends made from Concordia
Grecian Theatre in Taormina on Sicily. Off in the distance is Mt. Etna, the largest volcano in Europe and the mountain I did not climb. Lets not talk about it, I am very bitter.
Cinque terra, floral shot
Mary, Nick and I in the pristine waters of the Medittaranean, at Riomaggiore. Got our feet cut up pretty bad. Mary especially had a major gash and shards of rock stuck in her wound. she has healed well since. No worries!
Yup, that's the leaning tower.
malta gardens
Entrance to the heavily fortified city of Valletta.
Favorite Gelato place in Florence.
Loving the Sepia tones...
Vecchio Bridge in Florence
Tours of Florence given on Segways. Now I've seen it all.
Corniglia, or one of the five villages we hiked to in the
Paella on the beach in Nice.
Sucker for Sunsets, not the best.
Overlooking Nice
I do love my occasional Cigar. Kinda look creepy. Granted I am sicker than a dog and have been for days. Damn sinus infections, fevers and the like. I can't look charming all the time.
One of my favorite statues of Hercules fighting a centaur.
Irish travellers
Cliffs of Moher, Incredible.
A cutsey castle.
Yes, the prize at the top of the Guinness factory, a free pint of my favorite Guinness and a view of the city of Dublin

i got the chance to perform for some 60 people on our pub crawl. Check my post about Ireland to learn more.

The End of An Era...

As my good buddy Minesh from the play that we just polished off and performed for the final time on saturday has said, it will be the end of an era in our lives. Fear and Misery of the Third Reich by Bertoldt Brecht is the name of the show for all of you who forgot, and it consumed our lives for the last few months. After arriving back from Europe that sunday we jumped right in to full, 8 hour a day practices. Wednesday was our opening night so we had 3 full days so recollect our thoughts, rework our lines, and try and remember all the work we put in for the month and a half before we left which is a lot more difficult than I thought. My mind was still muddled and crammed full of plane rides, even more trains, buildings clinging to majestic cliffs and the like, and cobbled italian streets. We had to change gears and fast.

Opening night wasn't as bad as we thought, considering that we were all in the theatre til 3 in the morning the night before. Most of the actors became delirious at some time around 1, and we basically all gave up at being productive. You cannot ask a person to come at 2 in the afternoon and expect them to put in good time all the way through til the morning. I was exhausted to the point of giddiness and we all were constantly giggliing at the weirdest stuff. We were there for the sake of getting the lighting set up. the next day was the show and we didn't finish the lights until 2 hours before the wednesday show. Talk about nerve wracking. As I said, it was better than we thought, which is a notch up from complete shit.
Thursday night was twice as good. A solid performance with quicker transition and a better flow. We were finally ready for friday with a truly well polished show. But as always, actors get overly confident and a tad cocky and friday the quality dropped a bit. Lines were dropped or skipped. And none of us (the actors) could get in the mood of the show, which is a very somber and depressing tone. We managed on saturday to get properly depressed before the show (ha that sounds terrible) and deliver a hands down best performance-yet. Extremely emotional and pulled out all the stops I would ahve to say. The scene were I get whipped and beaten almost to death was very convincing and I made my screams and cries just that much more piercing knowing this was the last time it happened. It was so real in fact that Aiden, my fellow actor and at the moment, harasser, actually laid the rope across my back on the last three lashes accidentally. A bit painful, but worth it for the final performance. Everyone was at their best, but I'm only talking about myself mind you as I can be as self-centered as I want in my blog. My final scene I am the "Dying Man" and I truly made my final rasping breaths everytning they could be. I've had a sinus infection for a month and tood advantage of the draining goo to make a gurgling sound and really sound discusting as my life finally faded along with the lights for the last time.

We had a sponsored afterparty that got us our own reserved tables in the acoustic room of Geisha, a really chill club/cocktail lounge place. A favorite of our producer Krystyna and a few others. Had a good time talking to all those who helped to make our show all it could be, the directors Fu and Dominik who have worked really hard and made a truly unique show. Sam the sound guy, creating some original work and lots of sound effects (breaking glass, operation room noises, dogs barking, gun shots etc.) to make a more convincing show. Pallavi, our lighting girl, who was totally green but took charge and took the reigns so well. Krystyna our producer, was definetely the best of ever seen or had. she got us so much funding and kept the entire show organized and together. truly incredible girl. There are countless others, Ecaterina our make-up girl who had the brilliant idea to paint half my face like a porcelin doll that was shattered and blood ooozing through and a black eye. Looked amazing, just check the pick, and she drew some sweet tattoos on the guys. Kat, our stage manager, Brynn our "third director" and shop man building some of the set along with Lisa and other folks who worked hard on thsi show. My fellow castmates were a great bunch. Minesh, Aiden, Julia, Sarah r. and Sarah S. So proud to work with all of them, and we really made a special show never before seen by the world.

So I am now a free man. I already miss the play three days later. It was something productive to do, and though frustrating at times, it was worth every hour, and I met some amazing people. I have more time than I know what to do with, but it is always funny how much time flies and how less efficent you become with it when your time is less occupied. A busy schedule is always a better thing to have, it truly is, and I am actually stressed less. Back to volleyball and choir and school being my time fillers. At least now I can focus on the people in my flat, (ate supper with the whole gang for the first time in quite a while) and get to know my city for a final run around in this last month.
Occupational Disease...
The Jewish Wife. I am so pissed off right now! Another second and I kick that luggage like a tool.
Awww, this is one of the only full cast shots we have besides some more formal ones I couldn't get my hands on yet.
Charity Begins at Home, Sarah offers a very, very disgusting barfing performance in about two minutes when we leave the stage.

Minesh: Threateningly-"What does he say then?"
This is the beginning with the cool lighting behind our backdrops
Minesh, as the judge in the Judicial Process, slowly becomes tied up and turns into a sort of puppet to all the "conflicting interests" of the people surrounding the trial and those in the SA. Sweet idea, you had to see it in person. Both these guys do some of there best work as characters in this scene here.
And the ladies, Synchronized vanity work. Putting on makeup doing the exact same motions at the exact same time as the Jewish Wife. Most entertaining part of the show, I hear.