Notes on a Sunny Fall Day
• This morning I met my dad’s friends the Kaju’s at All Saints Church for the 9:30 service. We met them some eight years ago in England, when Mr. Kaju approached my dad at church because he was looking for a blind acquaintance from Hawaii, and my dad looked like he was from Hawaii—and as it happened, my dad knew the person for whom he was looking! My dad ended up going over to their house to watch the world cup.
It was a good service, except that today’s topic was “intimacy”—in other words, sex. At least for this pastor. It didn’t have too much to do with me, except for the part where he said, “Often times, when we see people who aren’t married, we think to ourselves, I guess they’re not the marrying type. But to an extent, I guess that’s true.” Sad!
• Afterward, we went to Mr. Kaju’s favorite restaurant (the name escapes me right now). It is also the frequent haunt of many celebrities, apparently. Last week, for instance, they saw Hugh Grant. And while we were eating, in walks the famous journalist David Frost. As it happens, tomorrow evening I’m seeing a show called Frost/Nixon, of which David Frost is one of the principal characters! (Guess who the other one is.)
• It was a gorgeous autumn day. The sun fell uninhibited. On Veterans Day, the Queen dedicated a new war memorial for the New Zealand soldiers who fought for England. It was quite beautiful. There were a number of crosses arranged in the shape of the southern cross, the consellation you can see from the southern hemisphere.
• Now Shann and I are sitting in a Starbucks on Oxford Street. We’ve abandoned our old Tottenham Court Road Starbucks. Although we originally thought the chairs were infinite, that turned out not to be the case. What’s more is that the noise level rises to a roar, such that you have to yell for the person across the table to hear from you. So, today, we got off at Oxford Circus and went down Oxford Street, moving from Starbucks to Starbucks, as if on some connect-the-dots mission, in order to find a Starbucks that had both Sunday evening hours and open seats. We went by four before we found this one. I’m now sunk into one of those trademark green plush couches. Our choice of study may invite criticism—after all, shouldn’t we be finding a British coffee shop to soak in British culture? Well, it’s one of those moments where you soak in what’s not there. London doesn’t have a prominent coffee shop scene to begin with, and you’d be hard pressed to find anywhere else open on a Sunday evening.
So to Starbucks it is. At least they have their holiday drinks out in their red holiday cups! Still can’t taste the coffee, but peppermint mocha’s a good combination on it’s own!
• I made this for dinner last night:
Chicken breast rolled in pepper and rosemary, cooked in onions, garlic, vermouth, and carrots. It wasn’t bad, but I think I made it too complex. Perhaps it could have done with a little pepper alone.
• Biggest regret of today: Forgetting to bring my camera on my outing with the Kaju’s! Thus, a more picture barren entry than usual.
It was a good service, except that today’s topic was “intimacy”—in other words, sex. At least for this pastor. It didn’t have too much to do with me, except for the part where he said, “Often times, when we see people who aren’t married, we think to ourselves, I guess they’re not the marrying type. But to an extent, I guess that’s true.” Sad!
• Afterward, we went to Mr. Kaju’s favorite restaurant (the name escapes me right now). It is also the frequent haunt of many celebrities, apparently. Last week, for instance, they saw Hugh Grant. And while we were eating, in walks the famous journalist David Frost. As it happens, tomorrow evening I’m seeing a show called Frost/Nixon, of which David Frost is one of the principal characters! (Guess who the other one is.)
• It was a gorgeous autumn day. The sun fell uninhibited. On Veterans Day, the Queen dedicated a new war memorial for the New Zealand soldiers who fought for England. It was quite beautiful. There were a number of crosses arranged in the shape of the southern cross, the consellation you can see from the southern hemisphere.
• Now Shann and I are sitting in a Starbucks on Oxford Street. We’ve abandoned our old Tottenham Court Road Starbucks. Although we originally thought the chairs were infinite, that turned out not to be the case. What’s more is that the noise level rises to a roar, such that you have to yell for the person across the table to hear from you. So, today, we got off at Oxford Circus and went down Oxford Street, moving from Starbucks to Starbucks, as if on some connect-the-dots mission, in order to find a Starbucks that had both Sunday evening hours and open seats. We went by four before we found this one. I’m now sunk into one of those trademark green plush couches. Our choice of study may invite criticism—after all, shouldn’t we be finding a British coffee shop to soak in British culture? Well, it’s one of those moments where you soak in what’s not there. London doesn’t have a prominent coffee shop scene to begin with, and you’d be hard pressed to find anywhere else open on a Sunday evening.
So to Starbucks it is. At least they have their holiday drinks out in their red holiday cups! Still can’t taste the coffee, but peppermint mocha’s a good combination on it’s own!
• I made this for dinner last night:
Chicken breast rolled in pepper and rosemary, cooked in onions, garlic, vermouth, and carrots. It wasn’t bad, but I think I made it too complex. Perhaps it could have done with a little pepper alone.
• Biggest regret of today: Forgetting to bring my camera on my outing with the Kaju’s! Thus, a more picture barren entry than usual.
posted by Noelle at 4:06 PM
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