How to use this Page

Is it just me, or did it feel as though May went by very quickly?  I can't believe it's already JUNE!  I mean, gosh.  If time could slow down a little, that would be great.

Source

I went to my first Renaissance Faire on Saturday.  It put me in a definite costuming mood.  There was one outfit I loved. It was a Ranger-y leather riding skirt, sort of like this one here, except it was mostly green with brown rather than brown entirely.

Yeah, I'd wear this, but with a camisole. :)

It was really fun.  We saw a jousting tournament - the Green Knight lost, which was expected considering the tale of Gawaine and the Green Knight, and the fact that the announcer made him out to be the Evil Knight, but I liked him better than the Blue Knight - and we listened to some storytellers.  The Gypsy Time Travellers were pretty amazing.  They are a husband-and-wife team.  The wife, Christy Horne, tells stories (and she's quite good, by the way) while her husband Michael Olson does anvil accompaniment, creating little metal thingamabobs during the story.  We heard the Un-Disney-fied version of The Sword in the Stone.  Christy recited it while Michael created ten little salt spoons.  It was quite a unique show.


There was a vendor selling bracelets that looked kind of like this:

Source

And a vendor selling candles that looked kind of like this:

Source

There was a Doctor Who geode candle I really liked, where the stone a swirly blue colour, and the woodcarving was of the TARDIS whirling through space.  That one was my fave.

For some reason, there were a bunch of Doctor Whos walking around.  Treskie said it was probably because of that episode where the Doctor marries Queen Elizabeth, and since the Renaissance Faire tends to have a Queen Elizabeth walking around the Whovians decided this was the opening they needed to appear as the Doctor.

(Weirdly enough, considering it was TEN who technically married the Queen, most of the Doctors I saw were dressed as Eleven.  Yay, Eleven!)

A good time was had by all, I think.  I want to go to the Faire next year, but I think, if possible, I might try to dress up... and in Ranger costume, if at all possible.


To finish off, here are a few pictures of my other nieces and nephews!



And NOW to life, and NOW to life.  Until next time (hahah!)

Source

God bless!

Cat

Add a Comment

By Susan Gathercole

Andy Calder, dearly loved by his family and his many friends and colleagues from all over the world, died unexpectedly on 29 October 2013. Born in Edinburgh in 1965, he was a loving brother to his sisters Kath and Clare and brothers-in-law Gary and Tony, and a devoted uncle to his nieces and nephews.

Andy was known internationally as a leading cognitive neuroscientist. He was a deep thinker, a meticulous experimenter, and an inspiration for those who worked alongside him. His ground-breaking research led to major new insights into vital social abilities, such as how we recognise faces, and how the brain processes and distinguishes between emotions.

After completing a PhD at Durham, Andy joined the MRC Cognition and Brain Sciences Unit at Cambridge (then the Applied Psychology Unit) in 1993, becoming a programme leader in 2000. In addition to his dedicated team in Cambridge, Andy worked closely with many collaborators, bringing to each project excellence in methods and precision in scientific thinking. This led to new discoveries including the brain systems that underlie unusual social abilities in conduct disorder and autism.

The news of his untimely death is devastating for all that knew him. Not yet 50, Andy had a wonderful future as a scientist still ahead of him. His abilities to answer important fundamental questions using rigorous methods will continue to inspire his many collaborators and the broader field of social neuroscience. A passion for overseas exploration made Andy a great travelling companion and a keen guest in the laboratories of his dear friends and fellow scientists, including Gilli Rhodes and Colin Clifford in Australia.

Andy was wonderful company. He was an entertaining house guest with his family every Christmas, and took a keen interest in all his nieces and nephews Clark, Amy, Ava, Rebecca, Cameron, Tim and Eve as they were growing up. He had a passion for film and theatre, and every summer would make the trip home to take full advantage of the Edinburgh Festival. A gifted pianist and singer, Andy was a key figure in pantomimes and productions in Cambridge. He made many lasting friendships with colleagues, who were delighted by his warmth, lightness of spirit, and wit (see colleagues’ memories).

Andy will be held dearly in the hearts of the many that knew him. He is greatly missed, but his spirit, life and achievements will be celebrated for many years to come.

Susan Gathercole is Unit Director at the MRC Cognition and Brain Sciences Unit. This article originally appeared on The Psychologist.

Andy Calder was a leading social cognitive neuroscientist at the MRC Cognition and Brain Sciences Unit. He was the lead author on Oxford Handbook of Face Perception.

Subscribe to the OUPblog via email or RSS.
Subscribe to only psychology articles on the OUPblog via email or RSS.
Image credit: Image courtesy of Susan Gathercole.

The post Memories of Andy Calder appeared first on OUPblog.

Add a Comment

Here is a picture of a banyan tree (that we didn't take; it's from a public domain site, since we kept forgetting our camera.) You see these in both Bangalore and in Chennai. And I like to call it the tree where one tree makes a whole forest.



The dog is well again! The student art show is on display (which deserves a post of its own, one of these days.) And now, at last, India. 


It's hard to believe that two weeks ago Saturday afternoon we were driving home from the San Francisco airport after about twenty-three hours spent either in a plane or waiting for one. And that two weeks before that we were being met at the airport in Bangalore by our nephew after a similar flight. (No wonder we were so jet-lagged!)


We have grown nieces and nephews (with families) and a sister-in-law in Bangalore. During two earlier trips to Chennai (formerly Madras), we had not been able to include Bangalore in our visits. So Bangalore was our first stop this time. Our nephew, Ashok met us at the airport at 5:00 a.m. We stayed with him and his family, and had a wonderful visit with him, his wife, Gayatri, their two children, Rohan and Tarun, and our sister-in-law, Malathi. And also the family dog, Caesar, a 90-pound golden labrador who longs to be a lap dog. I miss them all already!


Unfortunately, we were so busy catching up on news and enjoying the visit, that we forgot to take pictures, even though my husband had taken two cameras. I'm waiting for our nephew to send copies of the pictures they took so that I can post them here.


On the very first day (Sunday) I also met up a writer friend I met online a little over two years ago, Rachna Chhabria. We had exchanged copies of our books and have followed each other's blogs, and she was a great help to me in navigating aspects of FaceBook. She teaches creative writing at Mount Carmel College. 


Her blog,  Rachna's Scriptorium, always has interesting insights and good advice about writing.  It was a pleasure to meet her in person. H

12 Comments on India—Part One, Bangalore, last added: 3/9/2012

Display Comments

Richard said, on 3/5/2012 4:27:00 PM

I've wanted to visit India for a long time, but doubt I ever will. So give us all the flavor of it you can.

Alleged Author said, on 3/5/2012 6:18:00 PM

So glad your doggie is well again! And that banyan tree can inspire a story all by itself, can't it?

Joanna said, on 3/6/2012 3:40:00 AM

I too am glad your dog is better.

I LOVED reading about all your experiences with family in and around Bangalore.. It brought back many memories. While I don't know Bangalore well, I do know New Dehli, Calcutta and the Himalayan Foothills.

How wonderful to have the opportunity to meet up with Rachna Chhabria!

Of course, you have now made me hungry for some authentic homemade Indian food!

Nick Wilford said, on 3/6/2012 4:55:00 AM

That sounds like an amazing trip. I would love to go. Lucky to have family there too. I've tagged you at my blog if you have time! http://nickwilford.blogspot.com/2012/03/tagged-again.html

Rachna Chhabria said, on 3/6/2012 8:06:00 AM

Hi Elizabeth, it was great to meet you and discuss our writing and publishing journeys. Am glad that you had a wonderful trip and a lovely memories that will stay with you for a long time.

DeniseCovey_L_Aussie said, on 3/6/2012 7:02:00 PM

This is wonderful Elizabeth. I loved hearing about your trip and India itself. Silicone valley, huh? No doubt, seeing India is such a big player in the technology revolution.

Denise

Cynthia Chapman Willis said, on 3/7/2012 7:43:00 AM

I'm so glad your dog is better! And it sounds like you had a wonderful trip to India.

Elizabeth Varadan aka Mrs. Seraphina said, on 3/7/2012 11:10:00 AM

Richard, I'll do my best. Your mentioning "flavors" brings back all those great meals I had during our visit! :-)

Alleged, I agree. To me there is something mystical about a banyan tree. It's just amazing to see one.

Joanna, lucky you to travel all those places. I still have yet to get to the places in India you've traveled. We have friends in Delhi, and are hoping one day to visit them.

Nick, thanks for the visit, and thanks for tagging me. It'll be awhile before I can pass on the tag, but that was so nice. As for having family in India, it does make the visits very special indeed. We usually do one touristy thing only, and then the rest is actually really living there for two weeks, which always leaves me saturated with India and it lingers with me a long time afterward.

Rachna, it was such a pleasure for me, too, to meet in person. And have pictures of the event. :-)

Hi, Denise, nice to see you here. Thanks for visiting and commenting. Hope your writing project for April goes well.

Cynthia, thanks for the good wishes about Cezar. Yes, it was a trip to treasure, to say the least.

Julia Hones said, on 3/8/2012 11:28:00 AM

Elizabeth: Thanks so much for sharing your stories and pictures. I am enjoying your trip from my desk. Fascinating!

Emily R. King said, on 3/8/2012 9:00:00 PM

This doesn't just sound like it was a trip, it sounds like it was a journey you will never forget! : )

Anonymous said, on 3/9/2012 7:55:00 AM

I'm so jealous that you got to meet Rachna! She is a dear bloggy friend. Thanks for sharing your trip with us!

Elizabeth Varadan aka Mrs. Seraphina said, on 3/9/2012 11:07:00 AM

Julia, I'm glad you are enjoying the journey via your desk. There is more to come!

Emily, yes, it's always a journey to remember. India gets inside one! You don't just visit.

Anonymous, yes, it was a real pleasure to meet Rachna after corresponding so many years and being on the same writers' journey.

Add a Comment

Don’t rely on your cell phone to determine the actual time in Boise because you will wake up to:

1. Read the time as 7:25 a.m. on your phone.

2. Panic because the girls need to be awake by 7 a.m. for school.

3. PANIC because you have failed your sister on your first day of being in charge of the twins.

4. Turn on the lights in the girls’ bedroom, then yell, “We’re late, we’re late! Get up, get dressed. HURRY!”  

5. Be unprepared for the madness that will ensue, which will include crashing into one another as all three people simultaneously rush for the bathroom, after which  there will be tripping, scrambling for shoes and socks, and then the dog will get involved by barking incessantly.  

6. Suddenly remember—in your state of being half asleep and somewhat disoriented—that you haven’t figured how to temporarily change your cell phone’s clock (the only clock in your room, and to your knowledge, the only clock in that level of the house) to reflect the local time of 5:30 a.m.

7. Inform your nieces that maybe the time is earlier than you thought, and isn’t it a good thing they aren’t going to miss their ride and be late to school!

8. Laugh.

9. Realize you are the only person laughing at 5:30 a.m. Barking does not count.

10. Ask your niece to—just in case—check the time.  “Are you kidding, Aunt Betsy!” says the one niece after finding her watch that was hidden under a pile of school papers on her desk.

11. Second niece says, “Now what do we do? We’re dressed for school.”

12. Aunt says, sleepily, “Everybody, go back to bed, including the dog.”

 

Don’t Forget About the Automatic Sprinklers

1. If you happen to wake up early in a panic over the girls being late for school (and it is actually only 5:30 in the morning in Boise), at least grab the morning paper—the paper your sister asked you to save so she and her husband can read when they return in a week.

2. If instead you fall back asleep (after waking at 5:30 a.m.) and don’t pick up the morning paper before the sprinklers turn on, and the newspaper kid hasn’t put the paper in a plastic bag, so that it gets thoroughly soaked, consider # 3.

3. Bribery

Display Comments Add a Comment

We called our mother's brother Uncle Danny, and he meant the world to me. He was tall and a bit Hollywood-esque, a beachcomber and an antiques expert, a maker of the most exquisite Christmas ornaments and a wit who held his smile behind his hand. He was someone who brought us the craziest presents wrapped in used paper bags, and yet it was those gifts that I waited for each year, for my gifts were always crazy in the way that I once was crazy, and sometimes, too, they were dear. Pearl earrings. Something reminiscent of Betty Boop.

I am an aunt to five young people whom I love enormously. I have watched them grow into a mathlete, a photographer, a track star, a star swimmer, and a pianist. Or: a physicist, a fashion plate, a cat- and llama-loving wit, a fisherman, and a gymnast. Or: a debate-team judge, a softball player, a writer/artist with a talent for chemistry, a lovable heart, and a talk-a-mile-a-minute show stopper.

Anyway you look at them, they are rather beautiful in my eyes (their eyes are all manner of color—a variety of blues and a deep hazel). I'm not sure if I'm the crazy aunt—too quiet, too reserved, the one who rarely talks but always listens—but I hope that looking back someday, years from now, they will know how I loved them.

Display Comments Add a Comment