The mystery of the wee blue door, an Exeter window, and more...

Every time I walk along Parks Road, I wonder about this small blue door. The building is on the grounds of Wadham College, but I can't seem to find any information about its history or current use. Was the door used for deliveries only?


A closer view of the door. Any insights?

Last Friday we went to a concert at Exeter college -- Kah-Ming Ng always partners with talented musicians for his Charivari Agreeable performances, and that night two Baroque cellists were featured. (Do you say "Baroque cellist" or "Cellists who play Baroque"? I don't know!)


Before the concert began, I just couldn't resist taking a photo of this window outside the chapel door. Isn't it so very Oxford? A few seconds after I took this, a man came to the window and gave me a dirty look. Needless to say, I scurried off.

Yesterday we enjoyed a concert at the Holywell Music Room, and I was delighted to see Edward Petherbridge in the audience! (He will always be Lord Peter Wimsey in my mind and heart.) I waited after the concert to see if I'd get a chance to talk to him, but he looked tired and shy -- as though he really just wanted to be left alone -- so I didn't push the matter. It was nice enough to have seen him in person.

The first half of yesterday's program at Holywell featured Arcadiana by British composer Thomas Adès (who is TWO years younger than me, argh). Most of it was a bit too strange and modern for me to appreciate, but the sixth movement, "O Albion," brought tears to my eyes:



[Cross-posted at Livejournal]

Giveaways and rainy days

Congrats to Alisha -- her number came up in my final ARC giveaway! Thanks so much to everyone who entered. I truly appreciated all the book recs.

And I wish to extend a warm welcome to all my new Twitter and blog followers. :)

Yesterday was gloomy with rain and thunder, which was perfect for revising a Gothic mystery. The sky cleared a bit that night, as you'll see . . .


This was how it looked at 8:00 pm when Steve and I took a walk. The Oklahoma sky never ceases to amaze me.


And here's our cat, waiting faithfully in the window for our return. On nights when we have the windows open, he'll hear our voices before he sees us, and he'll meow us home (just in case we've forgotten where we live).

ETA: I've been listening to The Attenbury Emeralds, the latest Peter and Harriet Wimsey book by Jill Paton Walsh, and it's so good! The hardcover has been languishing on my shelf for ages, but when I learned Edward Petherbridge read the audio, I downloaded that right away. Now I'm chomping at the bit to continue, but I don't have any long driving trips in the near future. I just adore his reading, and the mystery is suprisingly good considering that half of it is told by Peter and Bunter as the family is relaxing around the house or at a tea shop. (There's so much TEA DRINKING, you guys!) I'm getting giddy just thinking about it. (And I was very gratified to see all the starred reviews after I'd already decided I loved it.) As soon as I'm done listening I might just go back and read the book (because my mind tends to wander as I listen, particularly when I'm mooning over Peter). And then I'll start up with STRONG POISON, or perhaps even go back to the very beginning with WHOSE BODY? *joy*

Oxford 2011: Week 3 in review

On Monday I took the train down to Winchester and then a taxi over to the little village of Chawton to see Jane Austen's house. It was wonderful to meet up with my old grad school buddy Laura (who is now a college professor and gets to teach Austen, Bronte and all sorts of lovely 19th century authors).


I'm knocking at Jane's front door! After exploring the house and enjoying tea across the road at Cassandra's Cup, we walked to the church where Jane Austen's sister and mother were buried and ogled Chawton House, one of the estates owned by Jane's brother Edward. Chawton House is now a library of early English women's writing. Someday I hope to go back for a tour.


Last year I was in quite a frenzy to capture images of all the Peter Wimsey-related sites in Oxford. At that time St. Cross Church, where Peter and Harriet were said to have been married, was covered in scaffolding. Fortunately the work is done now, but the church has been made redundant (how can this be?) and is to become a historical collections center for Balliol College. We could not get inside on this evening, but we did sneak into the churchyard . . .


to get this picture. Lovely, isn't it?


This past weekend my Dad and stepmother came to Oxford. We dined with them Friday and Saturday, and on Sunday took them to Blenheim Palace. Steve and I had been before, so this time we tried to explore the more remote reaches of the gardens. (It was lovely, but I still prefer Chatsworth.) This is a shot of the palace and its Italian garden.


I like this shot of Steve and the . . . what is she, exactly? It's a lion with wings and a woman's head. A sphinx? It was such a sunny, warm day. Almost too warm -- in fact, we're having quite the heat wave this week. High of 80!

Only two weeks left of this glorious summer in Oxford. How can it be August already?

Monday book rec & related things

Lately I've been searching out novels written/set during the 1930s -- mostly because I've been playing around with a story idea set in that time. I've long been a big fan of Cold Comfort Farm (which may actually be set in the 20s?), so I decided to go about finding more novels by Stella Gibbons. Nightingale Wood, published in 1938, seemed a promising candidate.

I must admit it started out a bit slow. It meandered here and there, throwing some rather jarring POV shifts at me along the way, and the characters were not exactly likeable. Still, I giggled at the satiric elements and decided to stick with it. Lo and behold, the drippy, depressive characters began to do unexpected things and thereby grew and changed. (Well, not all of them changed, but at the very least they finally figured out what they really wanted.) By the time I was halfway through the book I could not put it down, and I found the ending wholly satisfying. (I believe I did, in fact, hug the book.) This riff on the Cinderella story is surprisingly modern for 1938 and, though perhaps not quite as funny as CCF, the humor is delightfully biting. I highly recommend it. In fact, I really wish someone would make a mini-series out of it. (Hear that, BBC and ITV?) A little compression would serve the story well, and what gorgeous fun such an adaptation would be!

Anyone have recs for other books published/set during the 30s? Should I try Angela Thirkell?

On a related note, I was very tickled when Gibbons did some literary name-dropping -- Mr Spurrey, who is "lonely as only a crashing bore can be" nevertheless proves himself quite lovable in this passage:

Mr Spurrey, too, was content. The sun was shining (Mr Spurrey liked sunshine), there was blue sky, the Rolls was running well, and at home he had Dorothy Sayers's latest story waiting unopened. He would read it that evening, over a decanter.

Awww!

[By the way, I was excited to learn today that the Lord Peter Wimsey Companion is now available online to members of the Dorothy L. Sayers Society. Huzzah! Maybe it's time to give Five Red Herrings another try, now that I have this resource available to me.]

[Cross-posted from Livejournal]