Loeb Postscriptum & Cream Tea

M. just informed me that the Loeb-series of classical translations is not as overwhelmingly authoritative as I thought: about certain authors, classicists are rather reserved.

That said, the statement about homosexuality can be extended: the editors of the older editions were having moral difficulty with any passage on (physical) love.

Today is essay-finishing day (as was Sunday, and yesterday... maar vandaag gaat het echt echt lukken!). Interluded by Christmas dinner leftovers and a Devon Cream Tea behind St. Stephen's with T., the Pennsylvanian girl I met last week during our OODS-walk. Novelties: strong tea with milk (turns out I like it. After fifteen years thinking I'd hate it) and tea cake (kind of krentenbol, but cut open and toasted - naturally - and accompanied by butter and blackcurrant and strawberry jam. And again: Christmas muzak and ouwe besjes surrounding us. Very nice.

We talked some more, bought milk and bread at Sains and said goodbye at the Clocktower. Strange experience: we've seen each other only twice, had rather personal conversations, and in three days she's off to America, for good. I've got her address and can come round when I go to the States, but actually the States were one of the few places in the world I didn't have direct plans to go to, so... guess that was it.

About tonight

We just had a wonderful Sinterklaas/Christmas dinner: everyone loved the pepernoten, Rebecca baked loads of intricate Swiss Christmas cookies, the English girls had prepared a roast (chicken and stuffing and potatoes and more), we had Christmas crackers with corny puns and hats and all, and candles of course en presents (I got the award of the most random gift (a "beancutter"; but I also gave the poor boy a winebottle opener)), and Spanish sausages and baguette (not the real stuff of course but still pretty okay) and toast and pâté and shrimps and more sausages (of course) and brussels sprouts (of course) and my first Yorkshire pudding! And then we had mince pies and chocolate cake and Christmas pudding (which turned out as a mixture of gin and carbon after a too enthusiastic set-on-fire) and we laughed a lot (and drank wine and cheap English beer from a can and gin with some tropical fruitjuice) and Greg did his sword eating trick (the real stuff: down at least five decimeters) which was very impressive but also pretty disgusting so soon after such a copious dinner; he looked a bit pale afterwards as well; etc. etc.

AND: I got my SIXTH chocolate letter (move abroad: you won't ever get to eat so much Dutch food) and, most importantly: more schuimpjes (because the last ones were gone much too soon)! And, of course, thank you Sinterklaas for the poem: together with the rest of the night and Shakespeare last weekend it has brought my level of laughter to decent heights again.

Hope you had a lovely Saint Nicholas Night, too,

Anna