The so called creek that winds it's way round Fulton, Stinson creek, has been a bubbling brook all winter but now is a raging torrent. We are getting heavy rain and all the snow has melted. It is now a river, with a lot of debris and floating logs. The path is under water in a number of places. The atmosphere has changed.
The grass round here goes brown over winter and it is a mess where snow ploughs have dug it up accidentally. It all looks rather forlorn and drab. We have been told that the cold weather is not over and the farmer's almanac has predicted another 30 inches of snow in March! I can only hope it's wrong.
Stinson Creek in it's benign state.
This is the big weekend for the college. It is the Churchill Weekend.
Sorry, the writing is back to front.
There is a big fund raising dinner, with the British Ambassador as speaker and next day the Kemper lecture, given this year by Sir Max Hastings. For those who have never heard of him he is a journalist, historian and author. There is the dedication of yet another large statue of Churchill, another reception and basically partying all weekend. I will get to dress up for the first time, which will make a change.
The dinner is held in one of the many sports hall's they have. Sounds dreadful, but they do actually transform the place into a rather attractive venue. You would hardly know it was a gymnasium. This is all taken very seriously and days are spent perfecting the tables, lighting, decors etc.
The museum has been cleaned and dusted. We retire there after dinner for cheese, port and brandy and Max Hastings gets to offload his new book on a captive audience.
I have helped the archivist get a small exhibition together of Churchill memorabilia from their collection. It includes a piece of german propaganda. A crude plaster money box of Churchill crouching, basically with his bum hanging out, doing a poo. It's a money box. I think it's funny, but some apparently think it inappropriate! Too bad, it's out.
I have also become acquainted with flag etiquette. On all these occasions, there are flags. Serious stuff. A flag is never supposed to touch the ground, and americans take that seriously. If it touches the ground it's supposed to be cut up, then burnt or buried within so many hours. I can't see anyone British giving a toss if the British flag fell on the floor, but maybe I'm wrong. On a stage, the American flag stands to the right of the speaker and must be slightly in front of any other flags! I'm afraid I find it all a bit silly, but if you get it wrong, someone will point it out or be offended. You live and learn.
We have got out the British flag that was hanging behind Churchill when he gave his Fulton speech and the podium he spoke from. The British Ambassador is very keen to be speaking from the same podium, with that same flag! Wonder why! The flag has seen better days, but we managed to get it on a flag pole topped with the original silver head from the beadle's staff from St Mary's Aldermanbury, our Wren church. It is much nicer than the gold plastic eagle on top of the American flag- tee hee.
The British Ambassador has the reputation of being a bit of a bully and was Tony Blair's advisor on foreign affairs for a while. Nils points then, as far as I am concerned but I doubt we get any where near him. Max Hastings is staying a second night, so we might get to talk to him at the president's house at the last party of the weekend. We will be exhausted, we are out of practice!
Witterings over for now. I will leave you with some completely irrelevant photos.
This is a woodpecker of which there are rather a lot. They are just starting to get frisky.
The tiny blob of red in the middle is a cardinal, not that you can tell from this photo.
Well I must go and get some exercise before all this eating and drinking.
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