Dear Dad,

I don't know how many 24-year-old young women wake up and think "It's a Rod Stewart kind of day."

In fact, I don't know how many people wake up and think "It's a Rod Stewart kind of day."

But thanks to you, and your wonderful upbringing, I am that woman.

"I laughed at all of your jokes, my love you didn't need to coax..."

"Don't have much, but what I've got is yours, except of course my steel guitar..."

Thanks to you, I'm classy like that. And I can sing every line of "American Pie"... but that's a different kind of day. :)

Love,

Cakes

Thursdays

I'm going to make a pretty bold statement here.

I have THE best Thursdays. Ever.

They are the best because I spend them with these girls:

Meet Focus Table Four (most of them, anyway!)

These girls are undergrad students at Oxford. They are wicked smart (hello, it's Oxford), funny, beautiful, and hungry for the Gospel.

We meet every Thursday evening at Focus, the undergrad Bible study held by our church (St. Ebbes). This year we are studying the Gospel of Mark, exploring who Jesus is and how we are to respond to Him. The students are split up into tables of 6-8 students, with a senior leader and a junior leader. I was excited (and a little nervous) to be asked to lead a table... I had worked with junior high and high school kids before, but college? Am I old enough for that? Will they be interested in listening to the crazy American?



They keep coming back. And it's not because of my awesome jokes, believe me. It's because of Jesus. It's because of His Gospel. It's because of the Holy Spirit producing beautiful fruit in their souls. And I get to be a part of that. Every Thursday.





All photo credit goes to Karen Rice, one of my fabulous Table 4 girls.

A Brief Glimpse of Fall

My Anne Moment wasn't a total fail. I did stumble through this foliage in my quest for the fastest and least embarrassing route home. Normal people might go about it in a dryer, mud-free way. Not this girl. I needed to be one with Fall. Mudnure and all.

And just like that, Fall is over.

"Anne spelled with an E"

One of my all-time favorite books to read and re-read as a child was Anne of Green Gables.

Ok, a more accurate statement would be that one of my all-time favorite books to read and re-read as an adult is Anne of Green Gables. And by book I mean the entire series. There. I'm an Anne fan and proud of it.

I always connected with Anne Shirley--her love of good books, her precocious attitude, her wild imagination, her dramatic flair. Had I lived on Prince Edward Island I'm sure we would have become "bosom friends." Oh, and had she been real. Details.

Real life interruption: Will just walked in and asked what I was blogging about. I responded with "Anne Shirley," to which he JUST said, "Who's Anne Shirley?" How.dare.you.

Anne has been with me for years. She has infiltrated my subconscious to such a level that, when caught in a ridiculous predicament in which I only have myself to blame, I call it "having an Anne Moment." Of course, I often keep that label to myself because most people don't catch the reference and, since the Bible says I'm not to judge, I find it better if I don't know that they're horrifically uncultured...

This super long introduction (in true Anne fashion) to my once private "Anne Moments" brings me to my story. Or to my Anne Moment. I briefly hinted at it several posts ago but never got around to telling my story until today. It all started out when my husband abandoned me.

See the dramatic flair? Anne and I are like two peas in a pod.

By "abandoned" I mostly mean that he cracked a cartilage plate in his left knee cap while simultaneously developing some wicked tendinitis in said knee due to his running like a bajillion miles a week. This made walking pretty painful and hikes completely out of the question for some time (he's only now feeling slightly back to normal). So when I asked him if he felt up to taking a Port Meadow hike with me one sunny November day he selfishly said "no." Do you see what I have to live with? Unbelievable.

I was not to be deterred by my husband's lameness (literally) and decided that I could go out and enjoy nature all by myself. I set out and, for the first two miles I really was enjoying myself! It was a great day to be alive! I ambled across the meadow, breathing in the fresh air, humming to myself, praising the Creator for His creation, when I came to the edge of the dried up pond.

Now this dried up pond is an overflow of the Thames River. In the summertime the banks of the river spill into it and the cows and horses come to drink and to wallow in the cool mud and shallow water. And to poo (but we'll get to that later). By the fall the pond only truly fills when there has been a significant amount of rain. There is always some remaining water, but the pond's circumference significantly shrinks by yards, leaving a ring of mud around it. It was this mud ring that stopped me. And it really did stop me--I stood there for a minute, pondering the murky ground (with its eau de manure), wondering how solid it was. I could walk around it... but that would add at least another mile and a half to my hike. Yes, there was what looked to be about two to three inches of puddle, but I had my unstoppable, unsinkable Clarks on! I even noticed the horse hoof prints in the mud... they weigh more than me, surely I can get across... right?

I went for it. I took a few squishy steps forward...and promptly sank up to my shins in mud/manure. Mudnure.

It was somewhere between the urge to cry and the desperate look around to see if anyone else had seen my stupidity, that I remembered this Anne Moment and started laughing hysterically. The cows probably thought I had lost it. I know I looked like a crazy woman, standing shin-deep in mud, laughing like a maniac.




There was no going back, the damage was done. Help me Rhonda, I could only go forward! And forward I went, lifting one heavy, mud-filled boot after the other, until I made it to the other side. I was so embarrassed by my stupidity that, between the giggles, I ducked into a trail that I mistook for a shortcut out of the meadow, took off my fleece and attempted to wipe off some of the mudnure.

This was AFTER the mud-wiping.

My scraping was interrupted several times by Brits out on their walks. I may or may not have jumped behind trees, hid behind bushes, or abruptly turned around and walked the opposite direction whenever I spotted them and their dadgum knee high walking boots. My shame was too great to finish the rest of my intended walk home. There was absolutely NO way that I would be walking up Woodstock road in my mud-stained jeans (the "puddle" moisture had now seeped up to my knees), holding my manure-smelling fleece. I decided to follow this "shortcut" in hopes that I could avoid those looks. But, like Anne Shirley, I have no luck. Turns out that my "shortcut" was a THREE MILE LOOP! AND I WALKED IT LIKE AN IDIOT, WITH MY TOES SQUELCHING IN THE MUDNURE THAT HAD FILLED MY SOCKS EVERY STEP OF THOSE THREE MILES!

I finally made it home in one piece. One mud-caked, smelly piece. My socks were now a dark brown, the inside of my jeans were covered in a cold slime up to my knees, and I could barely untie my laces because they were so covered in mud. I did, however, have enough wisdom to 1) not strip in the hall (figured my neighbors didn't need to see that) and 2) document the removal of my shoes on my iPhone. I may have walked through two feet of crap but by golly I would at least get a blog post with some pictures out of it!

These socks started out white...

I wish this picture meant that I was hardcore. It doesn't. It means that I'm an idiot.

And that, readers, was my most recent Anne Moment. Moral of this story: nature is dangerous and embarrassing. Avoid it.

My Afternoon Equation

Strong winds whipping up the rain outside my windows+
vanilla candles flickering on the coffee table+
clean apartment smelling faintly of fresh laundry+
glowing Christmas tree lighting my living room+
one hot cup of assam tea+
unexpected free time to catch up on my writing=

One cozy afternoon in Oxford.




And to make up for all of my away time, I'm working on several posts to be released over the next few days. Stay tuned!

Today Was A Very Good Day

This morning, I stole Will's place in front of the laptop when he got up for a drink of water. He returned (as people most often do when getting up for a drink of water) and, seeing me checking my email, protested.

W: "Hey! I was working there."

C: "Oh hang on, this will only take a minute. Plus, I'm leaving for work in five."

W: "Seriously, I need to be working on that."

C: "...hold on..."

W: "I was working on my thesis..."

Thesis? Thesis? THESIS? As in DISSERTATION THESIS???? AS IN WILL STARTED WRITING HIS DISSERTATION, AKA OUR TICKET TO LIFE OUTSIDE OF GRAD SCHOOL????

Yes. Yes indeed. And that is why today is a very good day.

Now I must give the mathematical genius his computer again. Don't want to break the flow.

26-Years-Wise

On this, the morning after Will's 26th birthday, I woke up to my older man coming into our bedroom.

He slipped under the covers and kissed my cheek.

He then pulled out the Kindle and read me two chapters of Les Mis. Afterward he went into the kitchen and made me a smoothie to drink in bed.

When I asked him where this great Saturday morning awakening came from he replied:

"From the Wisdom of the Age."

He gets even sweeter as he gets older? I'm one lucky girl.

The Birthday Boy with his birthday cake--my first Tres Leches attempt. Yes, I did have to taste it to make sure it was edible before I handed it to him. Hence the missing corner.




He so loved my birthday present that he brought it to bed. Boys and their toys.

We Left in Fall...

And returned to Winter. We had only been gone five nights and England decided it was time for the ol' season switcheroo. It's a good thing I came back from America with THESE:

"I'm in love, I'm in love and I don't care who knows!" ~Buddy the Elf

My feet have never been happier! So happy, in fact, that I may or may not have sung a song about these new beauties as I was zipping them up this morning. It went a little like this:

Boots

By Caitlin Brian

Sung to the tune of "Duke Of Earl"

Boots, boots, boots,

Boots of mine, mine, mine,

Boots of mine, mine, mine,

Boots of mine.

Yes I know. I have the gift of song.

But America was far more than an awesome early Christmas present (thanks, parents!). This America trip happened because of these two crazy kids:

Mr. and Mrs. Steven Folz! (courtesy of Abigail Carpenter Photography).

Erin and Steven were the first couple friends we made as newlyweds. Everything in life was new then--new city (for me), new church, new job, new lifestyle--and Erin and Steven's friendship was such a blessing in all of the new-ness. We packed in so many adventures, game nights, movies, deep conversations, and great food in that year that whenever I look back on our time in NOLA I will always think of them. It was an honor to be in their wedding--we were beyond thrilled! Actually, we were beyond emotional. I usually don't consider myself to be a wedding cry baby but, man! My defenses were useless against those two! At least I was in good company... right, Willis? :)

A great wedding combined with great family time made for one fast paced but incredibly wonderful few days back in the States. Oh, and did I mention that we got to watch LSU beat Alabama while surrounded by LSU fans/Alabama haters?? God is so good. Great trip, y'all. Great trip.

I Made A New Friend Today

Meet my new bff--the Starbucks Chai Latte with Soy Milk. Di-vine.




I met my new friend just in time for the cold Oxford winter. It almost made up for my Port Meadow catastrophe today (more on that later... I'm probably going to need another latte before I am ready to divulge). I know I said that I have a hard time committing to anything, but in this case I think it's safe to say that I've found my new go-to drink. And in the words of Herman's Hermits, "something tells me I'm into something good."

The Farmers Market

If you read yesterday's post you'd correctly assume that this blog should be about Port Meadow and nature. However, I have a problem with commitment. Can't buy new boots without the family's approval, can't buy a new shirt without a support team, wouldn't even dream of buying a new purse without a 1 month "waiting period", in which I attempt to envision the new purse in my life.

You get the picture. I'm a crazy woman.

Will likes to say that marrying him took all the commitment I ever had right out of me. The man could be right.

So, after mentally committing to tramp through Port Meadow today, in search of some glorious fall foliage, I instead woke up, changed my mind, called my friend Erin and arranged to meet her and the kids at the weekly Farmers Market in City Centre. Because I'm crazy like that.

Would you look at all that glorious color?

The Gloucester Green Farmers Market happens every Wednesday and I work every Wednesday--except for this one. I had no idea what I had been missing! Giant red peppers-- 4 for a £1. Ten beets for £1. Dark green bunches of asparagus for £1.50. The produce looked amazing!

I never knew the custard apple existed before today.


Wish I had room in my bike basket for one of these, too, but the beets (all 10 of them) would have been a bit cramped

And then there were the flower stands. I don't think I realized how much I would like an apartment with a balcony until I saw these beauties.

The artsy version (or the version where Ella put her finger over the flash).


Here they are, in all their colorful, wispy glory.


I suppose I could keep a cactus alive on my window sill, but they're not as dreamy as the purple lavender.


My adorable assistant photographer, who provided the background music to my first Farmers Market experience by singing "Skinny Marinky Dinky Dink" as we walked in and out of the stalls.

So there you have my first venture to the Farmers Market. Port Meadow will just have to wait for another day. Until then, here's my one fall-ish photo that I snapped on the way back to the bus stop.

On Seeing

I read this quote today on another blog (yes, I frequently read but do not write) and I can't get it out of my head. And so, after being duly convicted by these words, I will be taking to the fields tomorrow with my camera before I miss any more of Fall.

I , who cannot see, find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch.

I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf.

I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough shaggy bark of a pine….

I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle… is revealed to me.

Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song….

At times my heart cries out with longing to see these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight.

Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of color and action which fills the world is taken for granted….

It is a great pity that, in the world of light, the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of —

adding fullness to life.

~Helen Keller

Dear America,

It has now been 18 days since we left your shores. Only 18 days? Hard to believe, considering how busy we have been since leaving you! I just wanted to drop you a line to say "thanks for the swell visit." Really--you outdid yourself.

For starters, how great was it to get to be in this girl's wedding??

We've only been talking about this day for a couple of years now.

Our trip definitely started with a bang. And, even after such a magnificent party to start off the visit, you kept the energy up for another four weeks. From New Orleans to beautiful Texas, the reunion with family and friends kept the happiness on full throttle. Nation--you must have been exhausted from all the excitement! I know I was.

I mean, I had no idea how much I had missed driving your impressive highways and eating your incredible food! I'm pretty sure I took some of it back with me in cellulite form. Fortunately, customs doesn't make you declare that. And your friendliness. How could I have forgotten your friendliness? I nearly cried when the nice lady at Starbucks wished me a "great day" with a genuine smile and eye contact. Has it really been that long? Sure, the man at customs in Detroit wasn't as excited to be stamping my passport as I would have liked him to be... maybe you could work on that? Just a suggestion.

I'm sorry that I don't have more pictures to send you of our trip, but we were having way too much fun enjoying your sights and citizens to be bothered with the camera. That's ok--I've got all kinds of mental snapshots in my head. Hugging my brother after one long year away. Sitting on my in-laws front porch in the breezy New Orleans evening, sharing drinks and good conversation. Watching Lee walk down the aisle. Pulling up to 7315 Fountain Spray and seeing Dad's car in the driveway. Visiting with my Mamma at the kitchen table. Talking with my sister until 3 am.

Oh America, you make my heart ache. Do you know that?

Fortunately, we'll be seeing you again in just a few weeks for another happy occasion. Until then, know that you are loved.

Caitlin

Hit the Ground Running

Team, the Brians are back in business.

Last week, for example, Will returned to his research group meetings, started physical therapy for his recent knee injury, received his TA assignments, and selflessly juggled (literally) most of the cooking and cleaning. Why the sudden swap to housewifery? Because I was sick on Monday, worked Tuesday-Thursday, hosted two dinners, met one new friend and one old for coffee(s), started and studied for two new Bible Studies, had a doctor's appointment, and felt like a bad friend for all of the other friend-y requests I had to say "no" to in the span of five days.

Can we Skype? No.
Can we meet up on Saturday? No.
Can we have tea this week? No.

All lovely offers from equally lovely people, mind you, but I was feeling a wee bit overwhelmed and congested, probably due to my lack of sleep and the recent chilly temperatures.

Sidenote: have I mentioned it's a cool 54˚ outside today? Yes, fall has arrived. Can you document the fall foliage on this blog? No! Yes. Eventually.

Back to my ramblings. My crazy schedule and my body's protests and my lack of snuggling with Willis were turning me into a rather crabby person when, flipping through old Oxford pictures in search of who-knows-what, I came across the pictures from our first month here.

Ah yes! You mean that time when you blogged weekly, Skyped every other day, hiked through the English countryside, drank tea at your leisure and generally had new adventures to retell to your readers?

Not exactly.

Not as glamorous as you thought, eh?

I mean that time when I didn't have enough friends (or dishes) to host two dinner parties in one week. Or a job to provide us with the money for that much food. Or a strong connection to a church that would enable me to be involved with two Bible studies. Team, this rather unflattering picture of myself was a reminder to me that, in all of this week's business, I am doing life here. The Caitlin in that picture was hoping and praying for a week like this. And she'll be very unhappy with me if I don't enjoy it to the fullest. So no. No fall foliage pictures or stories of hikes (see second paragraph where Will hurt his knee). But maybe next week. :)



P.S. In searching through those old photos I found this. There are no words.

One Year Ago Today

One year ago today we were still homeless. Which means that one year ago today I was definitely grumpy.

One year ago today our England friends could be counted on one hand. Or maybe just two fingers.

One year ago today I was jobless.

One year ago today I was homesick.


We've come miles since one year ago today. Praise God from whom all blessings flow.



And yes, this does mean I'm back in the blogging business. Year Two, here I come.

Lately

Lately, life has been a little crazy.

Crazy parents.

Crazy in lurve.

Crazy statue?

Crazy Metaphysics.

Crazy cute!

Crazy nerds.

But we're down with crazy.

Whatchu lookin' at, Willis?

Lately, we've turned our living room into a 2nd bedroom of sorts.

You will just have to take my word that that is Laura...

The Embry's were our next air mattress victims.

Lately, we've been spoiled by hanging out with family and dear friends in the most charming city ever.

Sissy-face and I in Christ Church Gardens.

Chillin' with the Embry's on Trinity's lawn.

Technically, this was in London, which is still pretty charming.

Lately, we've been allllll over England.

The fam at Salisbury Cathedral.

Cute parents (do I really have to tell you where they are?).

The English Channel.

Avon Castle, where we stayed (!) for 3 nights.

Lately (and back in the States), this guy graduated from the USMC Officer Candidates School.

Proud parents!

My good-lookin' siblings. Wish I could have been there, too!

Lately, we've been working like mad to make up for all of the company time. Lately, Will traveled to Belfast for a Maths Conference and didn't take any pictures of Ireland because he was stuck in lectures all day.

Lately, we're exhausted...

Up next: America!

The View From My iPhone

This is what life looks like for the Brians these past 48 hours:

Our neighbors, Josh and Erin, are celebrating their 10-year wedding anniversary in Germany (yeah, go marriage!) and Will and I are watching their cutie pies, Ella and Jackson.

Our foray into fake-parenting thus far:

Day 1: Easy Peasy. Busy, but easy. Will had to work, so the kiddos and I went to the library, played at the park, read books, and ran around outside until he came home.

Day 2 (today): Revenge of the stomach. My stomach. I am happy to report that after ridding my body of absolutely all it's prior contents (and possibly a little stomach lining), I'm feeling better. Not awesome, but better.

The upside of my stomach removal is that I got to listen to Will go into solo parenting mode as I lay in bed, afraid of any horizontal movement. I listened as he navigated breakfast, Ella's outfit choices, Jackson's packed lunch for preschool, teeth brushing and the occasional stern discipline voice like a pro. Smart and kid-friendly? Jackpot.

After the porcelain god had been appeased, I eavesdropped on Ella and Will as they "worked" in the living room. The conversation went something like this:

Ella: "dat Daddy's puter?"

Will: "No, this is my computer."

Ella: "das Daddy's puter--you can use it!"

Will: "This is my computer--it has topology on it." Pause. "Ella, can you say topology?"

Ella: "polgy"

Will: "Top-ol-o-gy"

Ella: "pology"

Ella soon grew tired of topology and decided that Will's work was over.

We are also big believers in buying children's love (although I do feel a little cheap... sometimes) and purchased a bubble kit at the grocery story today. I'd like to believe that for those 45 minutes of blissful bubble blowing they loved us that much more.

We have the kids until Tuesday morning and, so far, our goal to keep them accident-free has been a great success! Now if only my stomach will cooperate we'll be set.

Oh, and I know that I owe you all one hefty blog post about my family's visit... but I am waiting for a certain unnamed family member to send me her pictures. Want a hint? Her name rhymes with Fwisten. :) Once the pictures have arrived, I'll bore you to tears with pictures of English flowers and streets and buildings and the Hesses, of course. It's a promise.