WARNING: Disturbing Images to Follow

Nobody told me about the spiders.

Having left behind Rexburg's old basement apartments with bad weather stripping, I was looking forward to an autumn free from arachnoparanoia (scanning the the ceiling and corners, shaking out my shoes before putting them on, lifting piles of laundry with caution -- i.e., CONSTANT VIGILANCE). Sure, I figured a vile little eight-legged beast might put in an occasional appearance, but after six years of Idaho's monster hobos and catfaces, I didn't think tame, temperate, jolly old England would have anything I couldn't handle.

Au contraire. From day one, we were shocked by the number of thick, sticky, placemat-sized webs we saw stretched in shrubs, under trees, on street signs, inside phone booths, behind park benches... we were surrounded. These "garden spiders" are fat (about quarter-sized) and hideous, but fortunately they have that awkward, stripey look that makes them tolerable -- from a safe distance.

Our first day on campus, we spotted the mangled corpse of what appeared to be a small rodent in the middle of a busy sidewalk. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be what is known as a "wolf spider," so named for its propensity to scavenge dead mice and birds, and for their preference of stalking and attacking prey over web-building. Grateful though I am to know that they will, in fact, die if stepped on, Kathleen raised good points: Why would a spider presume to stroll down a human sidewalk as if he owned it? And what prey would such a predatory animal be hunting on said sidewalk? Perhaps we're better off not knowing.

And then there was the still-unidentified black spider behind the rubbish bin. I spotted it winding a fly in its lugubrious coils, and couldn't help but watch for a few seconds in mute horror. The thing was twice the size of a hobo, jet black, with shiny, muscular limbs. I won't even try to find a photo of it online. As Kathleen said, it's just plain wrong when spiders have biceps.

Canterbury Tales

This past Sunday we were able to go on a historical tour of Canterbury with our ward. Our Bishop used to be a tour guide of some kind and decided that he would do this for us. (Originally it was for just the new students, but then it became a whole ward thing... which I like better.)

So this was our first stop. This is St. Dunstan's, one of the oldest church in England. It was built in the late 1100's; and the "new" wing of the church was built in the 1500's. Thomas Moore's head is buried on the grounds. (Cool random fact.)





Next on our tour was sadly just an old door. (It was too big for me to take a good picture of it, unless I wanted to get hit by fast moving cars.) Apparently the family used to own most of the land in Canterbury. Sir Thomas Moore's daughter married into the family.

The door was cool, and at some point I will get a good picture of it.



This house was pretty cool because it was mentioned by Charles Dickens in his book David Copperfield. This was the school that David went to. (I've been told I should read this book.)



Then we saw the oldest hotel in Canterbury, "The Falstaff Hotel" established in 1403. (All of these numbers just blow my mind!) I just can't imagine things being that old.





Then our next stop was the West Gate. I tried to get a cool picture of a double decker bus going through it, but none went by whilst we were there. But honestly they fit... by a few centimeters. It's awesome, and kinda stressful to be in bus when they are squeezing through. It reminds me of Harry Potter when he rode the "Knight Bus" and got all squished.





This is where (back in the day) the poorer travelers would stay that couldn't afford a hotel. It was a hospital. But a hospital in the hospitality sort of way and not the I'm sick and need care kind of way.





This was an old pub that was special for some reason that I can't remember. I do remember that Kathleen, Jesse, Annie and I ate there about a month ago and the chips were amazing... as were the mushy peas.



This was an old inn that one of the Queens named Elizabeth entertained her gentleman friends. I'm sorry, I am like a child; my attention span is really short, so the details start to get fuzzy about half way through the tour.



And finally we arrive at the square before the Canterbury Cathedral. (That was the main event.)




Really pictures won't do it any justice. It's just beautiful, and something you should see for yourself. So hop on a plan and get over here! =)

Update

Sorry for the looong absences of blogging, but we've all been keeping ourselves quite occupied. Last weekend was quite busy. We spent Friday on a looong walk, then got a lift to the London temple from some friends in our ward. It was so nice to spend the evening in the temple, away from bustling cities and cigarette smoke and crass teenagers (we love Canterbury, but we're so glad we live in quiet Chilham). It was also nice to have some time to chat with our new ward friends. We've felt so welcomed by them, and there are some really sweet young families. Our driver for the evening was, in fact, the wonderful guy who let us sleep in his garden way back when. Remember those days?
The next day was Sarah's birthday! The big 2-7! We caught a morning train to London and headed for the London Dungeons (only fitting the day before Halloween). The beginning of the tour was a little more historical, then they gave us the option of leaving if we were scared, or continuing on to the Tombs portion. This portion was, well, HORRIFYING! I had flash-backs of the haunted house put on in the Lone Pine Elementary library, when Mom had to tell everyone to go easy on me. Let's just say, there were limbs hanging from the ceiling and wacking us in the face and zombies screaming in our ears (we're back to London now, not the school library) and clowns with automatic guns. Horrible. Disgusting. I closed my eyes the whole time. We had a blast. But it was horrible. But we had fun. No really, it was horrible.

What better way to celebrate surviving the chainsaw room than by eating some raw meat? We had worked up our appetites, so it was off to YoSushi for some lunch. Yummy.

We "chube"d it to Covent Gardens then, and wandered through the markets. We all bought too many scarves (except J-man who bought a Superman belt buckle). How could we resist when they were only 3 pounds per? And soooo pretty... Scarf post to come.

After eating some killer waffles--really, and I don't like bought waffles--we strolled the streets to Kensington Gardens. On the way we found the London Chapel. We went in and looked around. It was very cool to wander off the streets of London and right into a ward activity replete with laughing children running everywhere and nursing mothers--so, Mormons.

After paying homage to Peter, we made our way back to the Charing Cross station, where we ate dinner at Pizza Express, which was excellent. Then it was home to Chilham and our wonderful beds.

Sunday we went to church, then our Bishop (who used to be a tour guide in Canterbury) led some of us on a little walk through the city ending at the cathedral. We hadn't even walked on the cathedral grounds up to this point if you can believe it. It was so beautiful inside. We stayed for an Evensong service. Great boys' choir and lovely acoustics.

Then home. Hard to believe it was Halloween. Apart from a few people dressed up on the train, we would never have noticed. But a great weekend.

To complete Sarah's birthday festivities, Annie made the cake to kill all cakes on Tuesday night (in between boxing lesson). We all had a piece and nearly died it was so rich. Some friends invited us for dinner the next day and we brought the other half of the cake. Everyone had a piece. When we got home, somehow we still had in our possession a quarter of the dang thing. Lest you think it wasn't a good cake, let me assure you--it was fantastic. Just richer than Bill Gates in a butter bath. It was a blooody battle, but Sarah and I finally finished it off today.

I Like to Punch. I am a Bro.

So far this blog has been the thoughts and words of the three remarkable women with whom I happen to share this adventure. The posts have been about trees and seasons, walks and pies.

I live with my beautiful wife, and two of the most upstanding women I have had the pleasure of knowing. Sarah and Annie live upstairs and Kathleen and I live downstairs. It is a wonderful alternative to the lottery-style rooming situation that off-campus housing generally requires. We love it. And although I certainly enjoy the benefit of living with women who love to cook and put up flowers and bring fresh apples home, I am not going to write about these things. Or about the costumed, period-piece dramas they watch.

I am a Bro. And as a duly-elected representative of 25% of the population of the residents of Pilgrims, I want to talk about boy stuff.

And boys like to punch things.

I am a proud, card-carrying member(we don't have cards...) of the Kent Boxing Club. Can't you see the manliness in my typing? I have been training three days a week for the past three weeks, and I love it.

There are about forty of us and we are trained by a bulldog-faced Cockney. I don't know his name--I call him "coach." He yells quaint, coach-like things at us. "If you don lyke runnin, try the chess club. I fink dey might take you." Or "It'sa simpless fing in the world. 'It dem wif ou' gettin 'it. Simple."

Now believe it or not, despite the obvious wave of overpowering masculinity that you may experience upon seeing me, I am a relative newcomer to organized sports. I played little league. I was on the "we never cut anyone" types of teams. I played Madden video games. That's it. My athletically-minded best friend moved away the year I started high school, and with him moved my chance for a Stanley Cup belt.

I mention this because I am expecting a good-sized reaction when I say that I am a fairly good boxer, for a novice. I am one of the biggest guys in the club, if not the biggest, and I am strong. After getting kicked off a church basketball team(this is a lie), I finally turned to weight-lifting as a solo sport and I have been doing that for five or six years(this is true). And I made a lot of progress. I started at 125 lbs. Now I weigh 185 lbs, and I have a lot of power in my right, even if I get winded faster than I should. Weightlifting has prepared me decently, and I felt really confident in my progress within the boxing club.

Then the club President asked me if I wanted to spar with one of the more seasoned guys.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit hesitant. I mean, after all, what if I was awful? What if I decided that it was impossible to get better, which I've used as an excuse before, and quit? What if I hit a guy and his whole head came off?

It could happen.

After a really long half-second, I said sure and ran over to the ring.

Out of the many things I was nervous about getting into the ring, the biggest was this--I didn't want to be gun-shy. I didn't want to be the kid that drops everything he has learned and covers his head, or is afraid to get anywhere near the other guy. My fears, it turns out, were not needed. I found out that I'm the kind of guy that drops everything he's learned and tries to kill the other guy. After three weeks of learning to defend myself, first and foremost, I forget everything when I see his head in front of me, and I try and hit him into the ground like a whack-a-mole.

Unfortunately, Manos, the Greek gentleman I was sparring with, had really long arms. That meant that every time I tried to get near him he whacked me in the head three times before I could hit him once.

Now I did hit him, really well a couple of times, but he definitely got me many more times. I didn't really notice at the time, due to my primal, destroy-gene activation. But right now I am typing with a black eye, slightly swollen nose, and bruises all over my right arm from some wild right hooks Manos was very efficient at blocking.

Needless to say, I have a lot to learn about boxing before I can properly remove someone's head. But I love boxing.

It's for boys.

Yay for seasons!

This is one of my favorite things right now. The changing of the season, and the fact that it is taking place slow enough for us to enjoy it!







I took these pictures on Sunday when Kathleen went apple picking on the grounds. We also stopped by to see Bugsy. Then Kathleeny made an amazing apple pie. Best one yet!

Have I mentioned I have the best friends ever!

Ode to Animals

Well, it's Tuesday afternoon. After a really inspiring translations class, we are all home and puttering around. Annie's busy making soup for our sick bunnies (remember that book Mom?), Sarah is catching up on her blogs, Jesse is reading. Unfortunately, I brought a cold home from London, and we've all taken turns entertaining it--luckily, there's always been someone healthy to play nurse. It's just so nice to have a relaxing afternoon.

Anyway, I thought I would pay tribute to the many animal friends we have met here. I know, you wouldn't expect the English countryside to be so full of wildlife, right? Well it is. Today as Annie and I were walking home from the little Chilham market, I nearly stepped on a little field mouse! He was about the size of a bouncy ball (I didn't check to se if he bounced) and so cute! After he scampered away, we started walking again and ten feet later, another little mouse friend! Just sitting on the sidewalk looking at our big shoes! So cute. Among our other friends are:

The famous pigs down the road at the cidery~

and their friends the donkeys (whose back fence backs up to Bugsy's)~

Our old pal Bugsy~

Miss Tillie (who stopped by yesterday to show me she'd had been to the hairdresser)~

The sheepies we pass on the way to the bus stop~

Quarantined!

DISCLAIMER: This post was written whilst heavily medicated.

It is official. The first wave of the sickness has hit Pilgrims. Kathleen was the first one struck down, followed swiftly by Annie and Sarah. Now it seems Jesse is not safe.

On a good note Kathleen is better, and Sarah and Annie are on the mend with the help of "Night Nurse" and "Mucus Cough Menthol;" and Jesse doesn't seem too badly stricken.

So for the time being visits should be kept to a minimum, until further notice!