Coronormal, Day 154

Slept well, got a leisurely start, and headed into Anstruther to find a hearty breakfast. None of the sort we had in mind was on offer, though — mostly only coffee and pastry — so we grabbed a passing bus to Crail, which was our next destination anyway. We recalled two venues in Crail, each of which might have provided the desired hot breakfast, but alas! both were closed. That left the Golf Course Hotel Restaurant.

The last time we were in Crail, we decided to breakfast at the Golf Course, perhaps even on our last day in the village, as a treat — expecting that the Hotel Restaurant would be expensive but expansive. That day, it was expensive but fatally flawed: they had no coffee to supply, and showed no inclination to obtain any despite thee fact that there’s a market a literal stone’s throw away. We vowed a vow on that day that we would never eat there again.

My children, do not make rash vows, as Jephthah and Saul learned, to their dismay.

They did have coffee, and the meal was adequate, and it was Eat Out to Help Out so the breakfast was half off. I did not detect any curse descending on us for oath-breaking.

We then set out for the Fife Coastal Path, which we followed for the four-plus miles rom Crail back to Cellardyke.nThe walk was agreeable in general, if a bit grey for most of its duration. We were blessed with a look-in from the sun that lasted fifteen minutes or so, but that dialled up the vividness of everything’s colours for a short interval. We made our way along the rocky coast past several empty buildings to the Caiplie Coves, a small series of natural caves which had at certain times been used as shelter and as a worship space by Christian monks and missionaries. They resemble some of the eroded cave systems of the American southwest, though Caiplie is very much smaller: only two or three caves proper, and some arches and hollows. Still the site is intensely impressive, especially when (as we) one doesn’t anticipate it. Even more especially, when it is not in use by a crew of adolescents who brought their beer and boom box (such as arrived just when we were departing).

We also spotted a boar (in the sense of ‘a male domestic hog’) of alarming proportions. A dino-swine. I couldn’t properly make sense of it. It may have been a Duroc, a hog with relatively long legs, an auburn coat, not fat at all, but a solid pig.

We finished the walk in about four hours, and were expecting a longer path home so that we walked directly past Madhavi’s door. Doubling back, we settled in for a long afternoon conversation, for some good times with Gabriel, a convivial Snack Hour, then delicious risotto, and returning to our shelter when it became clear that Gabriel needed some time with his mum and dad.

Coronormal, Day 153

Quick word: From London to Edinburgh on the Caledonian Sleeper, breakfast at Loudon’s where I had the best French Press pot of coffee I’ve tasted in ages (and Margaret had vegan vanilla pancakes), on to Cellardyke where we met up with my former colleague and our very dear friend Madhavi with her eleven-month-old son Gabriel. Lots of visiting, took Gabriel for a walk while Madhavi had a work meeting, delicious vegetable curry for dinner, and more talk and back to our lodgings. I have photos of the zoo, of Edinburgh (Margaret took a terrific photo of fog enveloping the forth Bridge), of Cellardyke and Gabriel and Anstruther; will post some when I have time and bandwidth.

Coronormal, Day 152

Alea, as they say, jacta est; I rose early, put on my trainers, and ran my new mile+. It’s not my favourite* thing to do, but there we are. I paused for a moment about halfway, not a full-on stop, and did the mile and a half in 13:50. In a few minutes, we’ll head to the city centre to breakfast with Mel, and then we’ll catch the Tube in to London to spend the afternoon at the Zoological Society of London. More, and perhaps some photos, later.

* ‘Not my favourite’ is the family phrase for ‘I don’t want to have more than a minimal serving of that.

Coronormal Day 151

I realised this morning, as I was rolling out of bed and heading downstairs to don my trainers, that it really only makes sense for me to stick with the mile-and-a-half route going forward (unless a shorter run were necessary for some particular reason). To be fair, it’s probably closer to 1.4 miles, since part of the 1.5 is my warm-up, which I don’t time. Anyway, I made the 1.4 in 14:57, which will be the starting point for my new distance regimen.
Morning Office, hot breakfast, Morning Worship on Radio Four, and off to Assumption Day Mass at Mary Mags…

Morning Mass, St Mary Magdalen

back for lunch, did some packing in preparation for heading to London tomorrow, joined in a reception at St Stephen’s House for our new-minted Vice Principal, Fr Andreas Wenzel (SSH ’14), came home for pizza dinner and some University Challenge and 8 Out of 10 Cats Do Countdown.

Coronormal Day 150

I determined before I even saw the weather this morning that I would take an untimed extra half-mile run, and I think I may be on the cusp of switching over to mile-and-a-half runs as a matter of course (no pun planned, though most definitely relished once noticed). I took an easy pace and ran it in about twenty minutes, I think. Morning Office, hot breakfast, grocery trip, and some research reading; I will want to keep my former colleague Brian Blount’s Cultural Interpretation as a close companion to my work on hermeneutics, so I’m going over it with a view to passages I’ll want to quote or engage with. Midafternoon, we had a meeting of the Sodality of Mary (on the Feast of the Assumption). I cooked fajitas for dinner, and we watched the recent Greta Gerwig adaptation of Little Women.

During the evening, I had occasion to read Ethan Zuckerman’s blog essay ‘To the future occupants of my office at the MIT Media Lab,’ a lovely, evocative reflection on time and hope and mission, which I in turn commend to you.

Coronormal, Day 149

Heavy grey skies, total humidity from a rain that had only just let up, but cooler temps and good, limber legs, to the result of a 9:35 time. Again, I can’t account for the variability of timings, except to say that obviously I’m not a running machine. Morning Office, a crumpet for breakfast (limited fruit available), and a Margaret-inspired morning research project on the creator of Wondermark comics, David Malki ! Malki warrants a Wikipedia page, but I am not about to do that work just at the moment.
I was having difficulty bearing down on my James essay, so I thought I’d at least devote time and energy to something productive and edifying, so I transcribed some pages of Legends of the Jews and listened to tunes. I was deeply moved, as I have been before, at the Who’s Quadrophenia, about analysing and admiring it with Matt Pappathan in undergraduate days, about pointing out to Nate and Si Keith Moon’s and John Entwhistle’s amazing fills, of course Pete Townshend’s composition and writing, the cultural politics of Mods and Rockers; and then I listened to the first side of Hunky Dory, remembering sharing that with Pippa (and her returning the favour by identifying Margaret and me as ‘Kooks’); and all of this while Darnielle’s Master of Reality was still fresh in my memory. I suppose few of my students would imagine my thinking about them as I admit that I, one of ‘all you rock’n’rollers’, had to face the fact that I had long since grown older (I’m neither wet nor cold, but I am indeed old) — but now so many generations of undergraduates and ordinands have endured my teaching that I can no longer see the individual faces in back rows of alumnæ/i. There have been some posts online recently about the vocation of priesthood, emphasising the gravity of this calling, and I certainly sympathise with that way of thinking. I wonder, though, whether my vocation to be AKMA, imperfectly as I’ve fulfilled it, comprising the priesthood, the teaching, the rocking, the parenting and husbanding, the laughing, has not been a more frightening and demanding call.
Anyway, on a lighter note, we had takeaway curry from Majliss, and watched the last of the Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy, The World’s End, which we had not seen before.

Coronormal, Day 148

The thunder and lightning, and primarily the rain yesterday afternoon, had helped drive the temperature down a wee bit, but it was still warm and sticky-humid for this morning’s run, and my ankles decided to ache a bit at the halfway mark. My mile was, in the end, 9:40, with which I content under the conditions. Fruit breakfast, Morning Office (delayed cos Margaret woke up earlier than usual), and some research about James and miracles. I got sidetracked, though, by reading John Darnielle’s book in the 33 1/3 series on the Black Sabbath album Master of Reality, which — once again, as in Wolf in White Van and in so many of his songs, gently unfolds the cruelty of systems designed to care for adolescent mental health. I’m not a fan of Black Sabbath or Ozzy Osborne, but the short book certainly amplifies my sympathy for those who are; and further, Darnielle focuses and intensifies my shame at the passivity and distance with which the structures of late modern capitalist cultures shrug off responsibility for the well-being of all who labour and are heavy laden with wounds to their mental health.
Margaret made a very tasty dinner of miscellaneous refrigerator veg, we finished The Deceived, and finished the evening with some QI and University Challenge (I was intrigued to learn that University Challenge is actually the progeny of the US version, College Bowl, which I used to watch avidly with my dad).

Coronormal, Day 147

Up early in the tropical morning air, and decided early on to take an untimed, short-step, slow run for the day, allowing for a stop along the way to take a photo for Margaret. I realised in the last stretch that if I were going to aim at a slow-run day, I really ought to have taken my mile-and-a-half route, but as I was so near home, so hot and uncomfortable, there was no way I would voluntarily add another half mile to my exercise. That sort of decision must be made while I’m still fresh and foolish and not desperate.

Dawn over East Oxford

Morning Office, hot breakfast, going back over Newman on biblical interpretation in preparation for a tutorial talk with one of my Orielenses, which talk then occupied the rest of the morning. Lunch at midday, and the afternoon spent on Wittgenstein (I wish I could make an explicit connection to the two, no three research projects I’m responsible for at the moment, but I can’t). My energy petered out toward teatime, and after a visit with a friend we ordered pizza from BBuona and watched more episodes of The Deceived (jeering at the misconduct at every turn, but curious to know how it plays out).

Coronormal One Hundred Forty-Six

Did I mention that it’s perishingly humid on top of the heat wave, especially first thing in the morning? 9:27 mile. Morning Office, breakfast at Rick’s, brushing up my Newman (on the day the CoE recognises him, ill-advisedly conflicting with St Clare), taking Margaret’s MacBook in to be serviced, some Newman reading for research and teaching… Now, that’s a day well spent, isn’t it? I cooked AKMA’s Bachelor Dinner, and we watched the last episodes of La Dernière Vague before turning in.