Spring!

My goodness, the weather has been gorgeous over the past couple of days. And the city is so beautiful in the sunlight. The yellow stone of the old colleges glows warmly and the grass is vivid green. Apple and cherry trees are in bloom everywhere, daffodils are out in abundance, and people are planting their gardens. You catch the fragrance of all the flowers and blossoms everywhere you walk, as opposed to the usual city smells of exhaust and fried food. I could live with a few more weeks of unemployment in this kind of weather! (I am still in the process of applying and interviewing for positions, but will say no more until something is pinned down.) I’m itching to get out to the countryside, though it’s not the easiest thing to do without a car.

Having lived in comparatively litigious North America, I find there is a refreshing disregard for public safety in Oxford. Sharply sloped bridges over rivers become impossibly slippery in the rain and the railings only come up to mid-thigh. Small, deep potholes on public footpaths threaten to break your leg off at the knee. Bike paths come perilously close to rivers and canals where erosion has worn away the bank (since I’m a wobbly cyclist, this is most worrisome). Cars and bikes come at you out of nowhere at unfathomable intersections with strange (to my foreign eyes) signaling systems. Below-eye-level and therefore easily missed tripwires surround patches of grass or keep you back from paintings in galleries. If you’re handed a plate in a restaurant, you’re unlikely to be warned that it’s hot. I can’t count the number of times I’ve stumbled down unmarked steps or concussed myself on low-hanging ceiling beams, stairways, doorways, bus rails, luggage racks, signs, etc. etc. etc. Sidewalks are either bumpy cobbles (how does anyone walk around in heels here?) or large, ancient flagstones, which occasionally sink a foot or so when you step onto them, sending up a geyser of muddy water and launching the startled (and inevitably smaller and lighter) person ahead of you into the air. On rainy days I’ve seen two people slip and fall on the sloped red tiles that lead down to the road at pedestrian crossings (which begs the question of why you’d want to hasten a person’s passage into traffic). This all suggests that people here are more likely to accept some degree of personal responsibility for their wellbeing. Or that they secretly enjoy an element of danger in their lives. Either way, it’s keeping me on my toes!

So it’s been a pleasant week, and an uneventful one. We’ve been watching a lot of Veronica Mars (why have I heard nary a twitter about this show before?), in my case enjoying the proliferation of mysteries on TV, and learning to deal without a 24-hour grocery store or pharmacy. We managed to make decent fajitas a few nights ago, though good Mexican ingredients are hard to find. (An American who used to work in Jeff’s lab actually ordered peppers by mail because you can’t get any variety in the stores!) I am sadly unable to gloat about being in England while Morrissey is boycotting Canada, since his UK shows sold out long before I had heard of them. But apparently Tim Burton has moved into the area with Helena Bonham Carter, so I’m looking forward to bumping into him at Sainsbury's.