Rugby Ranting

After weeks of anticipation Hilary's place of employment, The Royal Standard, was bursting at its seams with ladies and gentlemen sporting the red rose of Lancashire and the Georgian flag. South Africa was the favored team--England the underdog--but Yossar encouraged everyone in attendance to, "Keep the faith." He insisted England was at their best when, "Our backs are against the wall." With his glass raised high and wearing his flag like royal robes, Yoss held the appearance of a monarch ready to leap off his steed and join the battle with sword in hand.

Hilary had looked forward to the event, but lost a touch of her enthusiasm due to shortness of sleep. Despite fatigue, she painted red crosses on her fingernails, tied a knot in the back of the over sized rugby shirt Yossar loaned her, rolled up her sleeves and started pouring the brews.



Deirdre sat in attendance with friends Maria, Mark, Eric and Daniel. The group drank two rounds of J2O's (curteousy of Daniel and Mark) which pleased the owners, Mic and Jess. Eric attempted to explain the workings of rugby to Deirdre. Vocabulary and rules were taught. Deirdre remembered the word "ruck" most vividly. The effect caused after a player is in posession of the ball: a blood-thirsty, violent attack by more than a few players on the opposing team. When not watching the brutal game on the screens, Deirdre took pictures of her sister, friends and strangers in the crowd.

Despite a few drunken renditions of, "Swing Low" encouraging the England team to take the win, they refused. Yoss held his head high and congratulated the three South Africans, who had the audacity to break out champagne in the middle of The Standard. He looked cheery enough, but the regulars could see his now solemn mood. Leaning against a wall, Yossar rang a friend and related the fact that he, "Needed a hug."

Hilary's patience was on trial and had to coolly use her edge on a few indiscreet customers before the night was over. Five minutes before twelve Hilary's feet and heart were filled with relief to see her ride home walk through the door. She stopped everything she was doing, grabbed her coat, purse and Daniel's arm, hollered back her farewells to the pub and hurried out the door.

Windsor Wandering

Parks, Parishes and Pubs

October break finally came giving Hilary and Daniel (the gentleman vaguely eluded to in previous posts) the opportunity to go on a proper date. The couple, both ridiculously involved in school and church activities, finally found the time on a Friday afternoon.

Daniel devoted the entire day to Hilary, perfectly tailored to her taste. The weather showed them favor. The sun was bright and the air crisp, giving them a deliciously autumn day. He took her to his hometown for a picnic, followed by an appropriate outing to the Roman ruins at Veralumium.

As the sun began to laze on the horizon they sauntered, arm in arm, from the ruins to St. Alban's Cathedral. Hilary was unceasingly tickled by the cobblestone streets, houses, trees and especially the flint stone walls. After reverently exploring the cathedral they stopped to hear the end of a service where a girl's choir was singing. While the girls filed out, two by two, Hilary shared her sadness in the fact that the SDA churches do not celebrate the art and grandeur supported by the Anglican and Catholic churches. The opulence of these churches, so often reproached by protestants, was not seen as an outlet for artistic voice but misdirected funds. Artisans had employment because of the augustness of cathedrals; whereas strict protestant churches neglected the arts and often discouraged them. A sense of sanctity was also something Hilary wished could be attained by Adventist churches. The reverence observed when entering a church or cathedral--the holiness--was something Hilary truly desired in worship.

When they had enjoyed enough reverence and Anglican architecture they moseyed out the church doors and began the journey back to the car. On their way, passing what Daniel said was the oldest pub in England, Hilary's historical curiosity got the better of her and insisted they at least take a peek inside. Stepping through the door, they were taken in by the complete contrast in size between the building they had just left and the one they now entered. The ceiling was so low that Daniel had to duck the beams. Feeling very much like a halfling, Hilary was immediately delighted with the petite size of the place. The music of Norah Jones played over the stereo with an occasional Beatles tune in between, the irony was not lost on the two wayward youths. Venturing up a narrow set of stairs, they decided to stay and have a drink. Being an Adventist theologian, Daniel ordered a juice while his heathen history student requested an espresso. Both satisfied with their choices, decided to retire with their beverages by the fireplace, circa 1000AD.

A few hours and conversations later, Daniel decided it was time to return Hilary to her sister (who might worry about her). The walk to the car should have been a sprint, but the lack of light made them cautious about their steps. The cold air cut through their coats and made them thankful for each other and the promised warmth of Maximus (Daniel's blue Fiat, Punto).

Cornwall and Camelot

The recent loss of the Hackleman sister’s grandmother took its toll on the girls in different ways. Hilary disappeared for a while and was verbally cruel to everyone at school when she returned. Deirdre was more quiet than usual; but when she did speak, gave a deathly sharp edge to her words. Although their grandmother’s passing was not a shock, there was no way they could have prepared themselves for losing a member of their family while they were a continent and an ocean away. They desperately wanted to be with their mother and grandfather. This constant need to help, without an outlet to do so, left the girls with a spot of inadequacy they couldn’t wash off.

After a week of this behavior and mood the girls decided to throw themselves into every activity the school had to offer and create a few themselves. Every night was filled with something: Tuesday night was “cave café,” Wednesday night “movie night,” Thursday night “the experience,” and Friday night was, of course, vespers. That left an uneasy void on Sunday and Monday nights. This time could have been filled with studying or work, but Hilary and Deirdre’s friend Jonathan mentioned his desire to see Lost season 2. Hilary knew a guy who had all the seasons on his hard drive. Jonathan showed hesitation at getting a public screening started in the student center. He feared no one would come to watch it. Hilary thumbed her nose at this idea and quickly got to work getting the episodes, securing the campus center and making posters for the Monday night event. Three weeks have passed since then and there is still a healthy number of students that come to watch every week (however, Hilary only concerns herself with the attendance of one audience member). Deirdre, having never finished season one, continues to attend out of curiosity about the show and to spend time with her schoolmates.

Two weekends ago the sisters traveled to the Adventist campground at Cornwall. The journey was completed via caravan. Hilary and Deirdre both nodded off throughout the trip. Their mutual tutor, Professor Rosenquist was the captain of their voyage. After some euphoric dreaming with the soft strumming and earnest lyrics of Elliott Smith playing throughout her sleep, Hilary began to regain consciousness. The images in her mind ceased when she opened her eyes and blurrily saw the faces of her sister and friend Maria next to her. But the song “Happy Holidays” continued softly in her ears. Looking over at her sister, Hilary saw Deirdre’s lips move with no sound. Hilary nodded in ignorant agreement, closed her eyes and returned to sleep. Deirdre then grabbed Hilary’s shoulder and brought her completely to reality. The music was still playing and both girls shared their surprise about the musical choice at the helm. There were two empty seats by the driver so Hilary removed her seatbelt and climbed over two rows of students to discover her English professor shared her love of Sufjan Stevens, The Decemberists and her beloved Elliott Smith. They exchanged concert stories, album preferences and discussed the significance of the Portland music scene. It struck Hilary again, that coming to Newbold was a mysteriously fortuitous decision. Every time she thought life there was becoming sedentary a new acquaintance would stir the pot and return surprise to the mix.



The location could not have been more perfect. Standing in the middle of a field there you could turn around in circles with your eyes closed, open them at any moment and see a picture perfect scene you wanted to keep forever. Their friend Maria led them on several adventures through pastures and ruins to the beach at sunset and sunrise that marked their memories (and their shoes) with unforgettable images. The girls also got to know the Serbians better over the trip. The weekends pastor Dejan(pronounced Dan) provided lots of entertainment on and off stage that the girls were incredibly thankful for. But the girls' inability to escape people was more taxing than they anticipated and the weekend was an experience that Hilary and Deirdre were both not sad to depart from.

They returned after an eight hour trip in the musty caravan. Both sisters sat in their seats wet from their nappy heads to soiled trainers. They had explored the remaining ruins of King Arthur’s kingdom at Tintagel earlier in the day; despite the weather’s insistence that they stay indoors. They explored caves along the coast, pathways along the cliffs and dug their hands into the sand and stones lining the shore. Hilary insisted they visit the chapel above the ruins, dating to the more recent 1400’s, to see if God sounded different in seaside churches. After moments of reverence and prayers for loved ones, they passed through the heavy church doors and strolled down the path lined with tombstones, guarded by the souls of centuries past. The caravans were leaving so they cut through the mist and fog, and boarded again and enduring the next five hours with sleep and the written word. Hilary went to the Caribbean, reading Hunter S. Thompson’s Rum Diary; while Deirdre remained at Tintagel reading the Mists of Avalon.

Stumbling through their dorm room door they nearly collapsed—thankful to be back in their clean, dry, sanctuary of sanity.

Hilary and Maria on the trip home