(Photo - Tallahassee skyline.)

Fast approaching the end of my seventh decade, I muse about the last ten years of retirement. This morning it occurred to me: freed of a work life, a mothering life, a cycle of work-cook-sleep-shop-clean-organize, I’m not in a hurry anymore. Where once I ran errands at breakneck speed, impatient in traffic, choosing the drive-through every time instead of parking and walking in, now I drive the speed limit. I talk to people. I park at some distance from the front door of Publix just to make myself walk, and I return my shopping cart to the store every time. (Well, almost every time. If it’s raining I leave it in the cart corral.)

SO – here’s something I think I want to do. I want to memorialize what I’m going to call “Chats with Strangers.” I confess, I’ve never felt much interest in the stories of folks I don’t know – or maybe I just haven’t had the time to listen. But for the last ten years I have had many brief, one-time encounters with the folks who live around here, and I think I’ve realized that these little conversations have unlocked some pretty rigid preconceptions and made me a better, kinder person.

This one will be my story of “Standing in Line at the Bank.”

This morning I decided to take some rolls of coins to the bank and convert them to bills. I do this every so often, as soon as I accumulate around $40 in rolled coins. More than $40 worth begins to get pretty heavy, and I’ve had at least one occasion where I dropped a roll of quarters and the paper wrapper split open and quarters went everywhere. I lost some of them – that upset me far more than it should have. So now I’m more careful. But I digress.

Behind me in the short line was a very large man, both tall and broad. He had a belly, for sure. He was dressed in cargo shorts and heavy work boots with socks, the tops of which poked out of the boots. He was very tanned, almost to the point of looking like he was covered in dirt. His hair was long and wavy and tousled, and I figured maybe he had combed it when he got up this morning, and maybe not.  He smelled like sweat and smoke.

I have to mention in a little sidebar that I am awful about snap judgments based on appearances. You would think I would have learned at my advanced age to suspend that, but, sadly, no. So my instant thought was, “A bum. Wonder what he’s doing in the bank.”

He said, “I save $20 in quarters every day. I roll them up just like that,” pointing at the rolls in the little basket I carried the coins in to make sure I didn’t have one of those roll-dropping disasters in the parking lot.  “I do that and in December I take my kids on a nice vacation.” 

Trying to do the quick math in my head and coming up with $140 a week for 52 weeks but not getting any farther than that, I replied, “That’s really cool. Coins can add up.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I used to use them to buy Lotto tickets and – well, I don’t know what I used my change for, actually. It just kind of disappeared. So I decided to save them instead.”

At this point, I’m not sure whether to believe him because that’s a lot of quarters to have every single day, but I don’t care. We are having this conversation, and I’m hooked.

“I just try to bring them in every so often,” I said. “My husband and I just dump our change on the dresser and we have a little change counter thing that separates them into quarters, dimes, nickels and pennies, and after a while, there’s some real money there.”

He nodded. “In December last year I took them to New York,” he said. “And we went over into New Jersey, stayed at nice hotels, had a really nice trip. And it didn’t cost me much extra money because I’d been saving those quarters all year.”

He gazed out the window of the bank. “Now if I could just quit smoking,” he said. “That would be some real money.”

Aha, I thought. A smoker. Figures. (Remember my bad habit of jumping to conclusions.) “Yeah,“ I said. “That would be almost like a raise in pay.” (Thinking to myself, wonder if he has a regular job.)

At that point, both tellers beckoned and we each walked up to a window. “It’s gonna rain today,” he said to the teller.

“Well, Paul, if you say so, I believe it,” she responded.

Hm, thought I. She knows him. Regular customer?

“How do you want this?” she asked.

“Whatever,” he said. And as she counted out the bills, I’m figuring he’s just cashed a check.

“You know,” she said, “if you want to know about the weather, ask a yard man.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I kind of want it to rain and I kind of don’t. I’m so backed up.”

Okay, I think, he has a lawn service. Hm.

Paul (now I know his name) told the tellers to have a nice day, and left.

I cashed in my rolls of coins, got some more penny wrappers from the teller, and turned to leave. “We had a half inch of rain at our house last night,” I said.

Paul’s teller sighed. “Jealous,” she said. “We had hardly any.”

My teller said, “We didn’t have any at all.”

“My yard is much happier today,” I said. They both smiled. “Y’all have a nice weekend, now.”

“And you do the same,” they said, almost in chorus.

As I backed my car out to leave the parking lot, I stopped to let the driver ahead of me pull out. It was Paul. He was driving a giant pickup truck with a magnetic sign on the door, and pulling a large trailer loaded with landscaping equipment. The trailer had a sign, too. I couldn’t quite make it out, but the whole rig was pretty impressive. “You are an idiot” I said to myself. And I wondered where Paul and the kids are going this year. And I hoped he could beat that smoking habit; that would mean a few more dollars for that vacation.

I've read a number of tributes to our dear neighbor and friend, Jim Sauls, over the last few days. So many have been memories from a vast number of friends and colleagues, and have pretty much focused on his professional life and how his values and work ethic have had a wide-ranging influence on all who encountered him.

I have a slightly different view, and it's based on having been his neighbor for many years (I'm thinking at least 30, but that's just a guess).

When our sons were growing up here in Foxcroft, on our little street we were fortunate enough to have many boys - at least a baker's dozen - within three or four years of the ages of our two. Of course, there were a few older sisters and baby sisters (maybe five), but on this one longish block, we had an army of little guys. There were huge bicycle clumps (and those adventures, as recounted to us now, were a little scary), great rotating football groups, Cub Scouts, Indian Guides, carpools to baseball practice - and on and on.

All the parents, with a few exceptions, had full-time jobs and the usual concerns of busy families. We had homework and holidays, aging grandparents and trips to the ER after soccer games, financial worries, small career triumphs, and the constant pressure of making ends meet and also carving out family time. We just lived our lives.

During these years, Coach Sauls was just like the other dads, but maybe even busier. The demands of working in football are pretty strenuous here in the Football South. He was building teams and helping to shape the futures of young men and being a dad and a husband and a son himself.

One thing he was doing while most of us didn't even notice was keeping up with the kids in the neighborhood. And as all of our boys and their older and younger sisters grew and ventured out on their own paths, Jim Sauls never lost track of them. He would always ask, and we would be amazed and a little flattered that he remembered this one's challenges and that one's triumphs, this one's career path and that one's establishment of home and family.

And since we lived right next door, our sons were blessed to see Coach on a pretty regular basis. Even if it was just a brief driveway chat about that weekend's FSU game (any sport, just name it), there was a touching-base kind of thing going on.

And when we lost one of our precious Godfrey Place Irregulars to a tragic and violent incident, we all grieved together.

Today, in our neighborhood, on our longish block, we mourn the loss of a truly good man. We aren't part of the Leon Family (our boys went to a different high school), but here on our street we have a kind of family, and Jim Sauls' passing has left a pretty deep hole there.

Coach, we will miss you.

Home again, and musing - August 29, 2016

Home again. I write this after two days of recovery – frenetic grocery shopping and laundry, mounds of laundry. Sleep – nine hours at a stretch. And a great deal of contemplation.

We OLLI travelers left Britain around 1:00 p.m. BST Friday and arrived in Tallahassee at around 10:30 p.m. EDT that same day. This is what Mike and I term a four-movie flight. It seems less stressful because there is no great pressure to sleep, as there is on the flight from America, which consumes the night-time hours. So four movies it was, and great ones, too, but that’s a different blog. (Note: “The Big Short” is pretty scary and depressing, but also funny.)

All went smoothly, we arrived in our very own house around 11:15 p.m. or so (nearing 24 hours of wakefulness), greeted our human son and our fur baby, unpacked the bare minimum (toothbrush), and collapsed.

Now, after a bit of a reboot, I’m in contemplative mode.

The two previous OLLI at FSU Study Abroad trips that we made, to Florence and Barcelona, were dazzling. We were immersed in the experience of European art, culture, and history. We didn’t speak the language, yet managed to survive and thrive. “Dazzling” is just about the best word I can come up with. And we loved it.

This trip was different. It dazzled, yes – who wouldn’t be enthralled at the Tower of London, the Old Vic, and Stonehenge? But it also wormed its way into my consciousness in quite a different way. Perhaps it’s because there was no language barrier (or maybe a tiny one – my accent was pretty amusing to more than one Brit). But I really think it’s the history. There is such a sense of connection between Britain and America, such an awe-inspiring feeling to visit places that are basically the foundation of many of our American institutions.

We loved the bustle of London, the efficiency of tube travel, the 24-hour diner right next door to the FSU Study Centre where we could get breakfast at 9:00 p.m. after a very long excursion day, the ease with which we became oriented in a city in which many notable venues are very far apart. Being able to read signs and maps was a bonus. And the people – so very friendly and helpful and patient with us old folks – so charming!

But Cambridge – ah, Cambridge. The whole city is soaked in the concept of the life of the mind. Intellectual curiosity is a given – no one would dream of NOT being interested in just about everything there is to learn and know. Television exists, but only peripherally. Families were loving the fine weather, picnics were everywhere, students on bicycles were the biggest traffic hazard. For me, it felt like a different kind of home.

As I stood in my backyard this morning with my sweet dog, I felt a breeze, heard an owl, and contemplated the sun slanting through my neighbor’s trees. North Florida is a different microclimate, of course, and the flora are decidedly different. But the peace is very similar. I continue to dream that we are still in that little dorm room just across the way from Corpus Christi College of the University of Cambridge and that we must get up and get to class.

This trip was different. We treasure the experience and are truly grateful to OLLI at FSU staff and the FSU Study Centre in London and the lifelong learning program at Corpus Christi College for working so hard to provide the opportunity. Believe me when I say this is absolutely the best way to spend one’s third thirty!

Modern architecture, the Fitzwilliam, and the naked mole-rat - August 25, 2016

Today, alas, was our last day in Cambridge. We catch the bus at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow for the trip to Heathrow, then Atlanta, then home. As with any truly wonderful experience, we are very sad it's over. In fact, we all agree - another week would be just about right! (Unfortunately, we just didn't bring enough medication ....)

We began the day with a leisurely breakfast in the dining hall, a little packing, then off to our last architecture class. Dr. Will focused on the modern buildings in Cambridge, that is, those that have been built in the last 75 or so years. I have been much taken with Dr. Will's thinking on the subject of modernism, and his belief that what is new will one day be old, and that we have something of an obligation to preserve these fine examples of 20th and 21st century architectural trends - just as we do those of the 10th century.

We walked a bit farther than we've been before, and viewed the mostly glass homes of the classics, history and law faculties. We saw some definite parallels to the Spring House in Tallahassee (Frank Lloyd Wright), although of course much larger. The law faculty building is truly a work of art, a soaring, curving tower of glass.

A short walk away we got a look at the University Library (called the UL by those in the know), which is one of five or so national copyright institutions; that is, every book published in the United Kingdom must have at least one copy in these libraries. We had quite an interesting discussion about the spatial conundrum that Cambridge will face in the future!

After a quick walk back through one of Cambridge's many green spaces, we grabbed a sandwich and a drink in the Pelican, then headed to our final Churchill class. How interesting that has been! As we moved through the last years of Churchill's life, we moved into years where most of our group were alive and of which most have memories. I believe our only regret about this class is that we didn't have more time to really engage in discussion with our instructor. (This is a common regret with OLLI classes - we can't seem to quell our passion for pretty much any subject under the sun.)

This afternoon we were given free time to roam about, take a nap, finish packing, shop, or whatever. Mike and I chose to visit the Fitzwilliam Museum, a true gem here in Cambridge. Following the lesson we learned so well in Florence, we headed for the parts of the museum that interested us most: always the French impressionists, of course, and also the special exhibit of illustrated manuscripts, many of which are over a thousand years old. This we lingered over until our feet just couldn't stand much longer. We ducked out and walked down the street towards a tearoom we had wanted to try, and on the way discovered Peterhouse, the oldest college in the university. We peeked in, took some photos, then proceeded to Fitzbillie's (love that name), where I had a celebratory glass of Prosecco and a Chelsea bun. Mike tried an organic beer and pronounced it eminently drinkable. Fun - as our times with just the two of us always are.

So back to our room to finish packing, then headed to the final treat of the week - the lecture on the naked mole-rat. This was absolutely fascinating, and so perfect for our group. Naked mole-rat research is very promising, as this species of mole-rat is extremely cancer-resistant (almost no instances), appears to be very pain-resistant, and can be deprived of oxygen for a significant period of time with no loss of brain cells or function. The implications for pain management and prevention of neuro-degenerative diseases is pretty astonishing. Not surprisingly, we hung on the lecturer's every word! (I encourage readers to Google Cambridge naked mole-rat research to see some pretty cool National Geographic videos and read more about this.)

After the lecture and a brief presentation of Official Cambridge Certificates, of which we are all very proud, we adjourned to The Eagle for food and drink. So much fun! Nick, Andy and Paul, who have taken such good care of us all week, joined us. We are going to miss those guys. What good sports! And very kind and patient with us.

Now we are back in our room, closing our suitcases, setting the alarm for zero dark thirty in the morning. We are looking forward to seeing family and friends - but will surely miss this very special place.

The Wren Library and Granchester - August 24, 2016

Today we rose early, as our architecture class was to meet at 8:30 instead of the usual 10:30 a.m. This was a class not to be missed, so we made the effort, dashed to breakfast, and assembled in the classroom with Dr. Will. After a brief lecture with some slides and a handout showing us what we were about to see, we set out walking to view more of the beautiful architecture of the city.

First was the Gate of Honor at Gonville and Caius College. (Caius is Kees, appropriately Latinized, of course.) This structure is a hodge-podge of different architectural styles and is a true curiosity.

Onward we went to the true treat of the day, the Wren Library of Trinity College. Designed by Christopher Wren, this building is truly a gem. Even more exciting to us was the opportunity we had by special permission to view some of the collection in this library. Usually open to visitors only between the hours of noon and 2:00 p.m., the Wren is a working research library that carefully preserves the ability of scholars to work undisturbed. Dr. Will, who is a graduate of Trinity College, worked some magic and we were allowed a half hour to browse the gems on display. They include a handwritten draft of "Winnie the Pooh" (both A.A. Milne and his son, Christopher Robin Milne, attended Trinity College), first editions of "Frankenstein" and Isaac Newton's Principia, and a "Robinson Crusoe." Those who know me will understand that this was a near-transcendental experience. Again, OLLI at FSU Travel Abroad provided a unique opportunity, one not available to most travelers.And as we left the College, Dr. Will pointed out exactly where Prince Charles bunked in when he was a student - and also where Dr. Will's room was - only a few doors away.

Returning to Corpus Christi College, we went back to our room and had a bit of toes up while we did some laundry. It has been very hot in Cambridge (though nothing like Tallahassee heat), and a little break was most welcome. Laundry done, we headed to the dining hall for lunch, then to our 1:00 p.m. Churchill class. Today we moved Churchill through World War II, and will pick up tomorrow with the Stalin meeting, and conclude the study of his life. Fascinating!

As soon as class was dismissed, we moved to the main gate and caught taxis to Grantchester. Some of you probably watch the PBS series of the same name, and yes, this is the village featured in the TV show. Much of the filming is done in Grantchester and in Cambridge. We went into the church that is featured (and it is a beauty, at least one section of it having been completed in 1100 A.D., with most of the rest of it built by the end of the 14th century.) Sure enough, just inside the church, which is a working church, there is a big poster for "Grantchester," the series!

Grantchester is a lovely village, and we understand it is home to more Nobel laureates per square mile than any other city in the world. (I'm pretty sure we didn't see any of them, but then we probably wouldn't have recognized them anyway.) After the church, we walked down to the tearoom, which is a small building set in an apple orchard - yes, with apples on the trees - where tables and chairs are set about on the lawn for patrons to sit and drink tea and eat scones with clotted cream and jam. What fun!

After this delightful experience, we took a deep breath and tackled the walk back to Cambridge. Yes, we walked. There is a footpath through the meadows of Grantchester, along the River Cam. We moved through many gates in many fences, saw many cows (with the expected number of cow patties), many sheep, swans and geese, and at least one turkey vulture. Young people were swimming in the river, jumping from trees into deep pools, sunning on the bank, eating, drinking, playing with dogs, and just generally enjoying the fine weather which isn't so characteristic of England, even in the summertime.

This was such a beautiful walk, but it was long and we were pretty spent by the time we returned to our room. We agreed to meet with a few friends in half an hour to seek dinner, and after a most enjoyable meal in a Greek restaurant, we all turned in. Our last day is tomorrow, and we don't want to miss a thing!

P.S.  We had a small thunderstorm this evening and apparently the lightning set off the fire alarms in our building. That was fun - assembled outside the entrance in our pajamas in the drizzle. Never a dull moment.

The architecture of Cambridge - bigger, older bolder - and drinks on the Old Court Lawn - August 23, 2016

Okay, I'll say it: I could live here. IF I had no family, no DOG, no commitments, no ties, no work, and plenty of money. This city is really a dream come true for anyone who revels in the life of the mind. It has its share of tourists, of course, and it's summertime so there are no undergraduates around, but the majesty of the buildings, the hundreds of years - actually centuries - of history, the traditions, the absolute dedication to study and learning simply for its own sake - all of this is just right in my wheelhouse. Plus the food and drink are priced for students, which doesn't hurt.

Anyway, today featured another wonderful lesson in Cambridge architecture from our equally wonderful instructor Dr. Will. (We have now learned that Dr. Will has been known to allow gullible people to assume that he is Prince William, to whom he has an uncanny resemblance, probably resulting in great hilarity all around. This of course was in his undergraduate days, and not now that he is an esteemed professor of medieval architecture. However, he's about the age of many of our grandsons, so we are allowed to tease him a bit.)

We walked from Corpus Christi down to King's College to take in the beauty of the King's College Chapel. This is certainly worth a Google for everyone. My feeble words cannot do it justice. The soaring fan vault is pretty awe-inspiring all on its own. Dr. Will takes such care to point out the carving details, the difference in the choir screen (early Renaissance) and the choir area itself (medieval) and even the changes that have occurred in the actual area of the altar due to the donation of an enormous Rubens depiction of the Adoration of the Magi that carried one important requirement - it must be placed at the rear of the altar, never mind that the beautiful paneling would have to be ripped out. Such a startling contrast between the plain block walls that were never meant to be seen(where the paneling was until the 1960s) and the luxuriant painting. We're all hoping that someday the paneling can be returned ...

After a quick lunch sandwich in the Pelican Bar (student hangout) we gathered for our second Churchill class. Today our OLLI folks really got into the class, making some interesting observations and asking good questions. We hope our instructors appreciate how much we bring to the learning experience!

After class, a blessed hour to just fall onto the bed and rest a minute, then we were back out into the very hot street (86 degrees in Cambridge today) for a walking tour of the city. Anya was our leader - she is a PhD candidate here at the university, studying under the same master as Dr. Will once did, and just a lovely young woman. She has been in Cambridge since sixth form (the final year in high school here in Britain), through her undergraduate years and now into her graduate program in - you guessed it - medieval architecture. With Anya we visited the Magdelene College (pronounced Maudlin), the Round Church, and St. John's. (That is St. John the Evangelist, author of the Gospel of John and Revelation.) This college was once a leper hospital and was meant to be the first college in Cambridge, although that didn't work out. However, it did become a college and is very old - 13th century. Again, breathtaking architecture and lots of interesting Cambridge history. The Magdelene bridge over the Cam is the oldest in the city, spanning the river at the original site of the Roman bridge. Its street is the Via Devana, the main street of the city, so named for the Roman road, the original Via Devana (the Chester Road). One never forgets that history is an unbroken ribbon here. If you listen, you can almost hear the horses and see the peasants in carts. It's a pleasing and pretty thrilling combination of ancient and modern.

After a brief look into a couple of shops and a stop at a fruit slushie stand, we returned to our room and collapsed in the dim coolness for a bit of toes-up until our second and final Formal Hall. We gathered at 7:00 p.m. on the Old Court Lawn, a quadrangle of perfectly manicured grass that one is absolutely forbidden to walk on - except for drinks before a Formal Hall. I took photos, but they certainly won't do it justice. We drank a lovely sparkling wine, chatted with each other and with Andy, Nick, Dr. Will, and Dr. Eoin (Churchill instructor, Gaelic for "John," pronounced "Owen"). How charming that they joined us! How brave! Their combined ages might equal the age of our oldest participant - maybe. But how brilliant they are!

After drinks, we proceeded to the Hall for dinner. Such good food and wine, such wonderful conversation, such a lovely evening. We are back in the room now, totally exhausted and bracing for an early morning. The architecture class will meet at 8:30, and we will walk to the Wren Library, which is quite exciting. Dr. Will has arranged a private tour for us into the precious collections and I, for one, am really pumped  Did I mention that this place is a library-lover's dream!

So, to bed. Tomorrow, the Wren Library, Churchill gets to World War II, and we stroll to Grantchester.

OLLI classes begin, punting on the Cam, tea in the Bursar's Garden, and a pub crawl - August 22, 2016

It's Monday, and time for OLLI classes to begin. We are offered three classes, and may take all three if we wish. "A Country House" explores the history of the English country house, particularly as it is portrayed in English literature. Needless to say, this appeals to me quite a bit - BUT - it starts at 8:30 a.m. That fact is a serious drawback. We decide to attend the second offering, an exploration of the architecture of Cambridge, and the third, which is completely devoted to the life and career of Winston Churchill,.

After breakfast in the dining hall, we return to our room to finish getting ready for the day, and venture forth in time to arrive at the classroom and join our group for coffee, tea, and cookies in the break time between the first and second morning classes. The architecture class is absolutely delightful. Our instructor is a most impressive young man who took his PhD at Cambridge and now teaches in Denmark. He has returned to Cambridge and we like to think it's just for us. He didn't say it wasn't, so we feel pretty special.

After the introductory lecture explaining a bit about what we are about to see, we set out to visit St. Benet's Church right next door. Originally the chapel for Corpus Christi, it is now the parish church. There is a Romanesque bell tower and Victorian "improvements." This is fascinating. There is quite a bit for moderns to learn about restoration vs. conservation. Our teacher, who is actually a medieval architecture specialist, warns that buildings erected in the 1960s in this city have as much right to preservation as those erected in 1066 - for who knows what interest they might hold for groups like ours in a hundred or so years? We love this class and can't wait for tomorrow, when we will visit the most amazing King's College Chapel.

After lunch in the dining hall, we assemble for the Churchill class. This is taught by a member of the Cambridge history faculty who isn't really a Churchill specialist, but has made a special effort to create this class for us. (Told you we're special.) He has an absolute wealth of material and makes the request that we read ahead for Class No. 2. We will do that this evening. We are already behind, of course, because OLLI folks always have so many questions that instructors can never get through a lesson plan in the allotted time! (Note to potential OLLI teachers: OLLI at FSU is truly teaching nirvana. We are students who are there by choice, who do not text or email in class, who ask questions, and who produce no papers to grade, generate no data to be reported to administration, and who always applaud at the conclusion of every session.)

Our class concludes at 2:30 p.m., and we must make a dash for the punting embarkation point, just a couple of blocks away. We have no idea what to expect; we have, of course, observed the small punts on the river with an occupant or two or three; one of whom is working very hard to pole the little boat down the river without running into another boat or the bank. However, this is a little different. Our boats will accommodate eight of us (and actually will hold up to 12 people, so we have plenty of room to lounge.) The are fastened very securely to the dock, so the primary challenge is to get in and sit down without looking silly - absolutely no danger of falling overboard. The seats are covered with thick blankets and there is an extra one for each couple in case of a chill. Today, however, is beautiful and not chilly (though also not hot), and we have no need of blankets. Our oarsman (punter? pole guy?) is a charming young man, a college student at the University of Manchester working a summer job, who has a wonderful store of knowledge about what we are passing on each side of the River Cam as we mosey southward.

On each side of the river sit the grounds of the various colleges. Access to the river along this portion is limited to those who have access to the colleges and can walk down to the riverbank, so for the most part the humans we see are actually in punts, and it's very crowded indeed. Also there are many very friendly ducks. By contrast, the back sides of the college buildings and the beautiful small bridges that vary from college to college are pretty much deserted. What a wonderful way to view a wealth of grand structures, beautiful gardens, and many contrasting architectural styles. We enjoyed this so much. What a treat!

Back at the embarkation point, we (very clumsily) disembark and head for our next adventure, a private view of the some of the priceless manuscripts housed in the Parker Library.

Matthew Parker, who served as Anne Boleyn's chaplain and later was Archbishop of Canterbury in the reign of Elizabeth I, was an avid collector of ancient books and manuscripts, and left the collection to Corpus Christi College in 1574. "The collection houses a significant proportion of all extant Anglo-Saxon manuscripts. The most prestigious possession is the St. Augustine Gospels, believed to have been brought to England by the Augustinian mission sent by Pope Gregory I to convert the people of Britain in AD 598. The Gospels are still used in the enthronement of the Archbishops of Canterbury today." (Quotation from Wikipedia.)

We were able to see actual notes from Anne Boleyn and a schoolbook that was used by Henry VIII's tutor for the lessons given to the young Prince Henry. This was a truly jaw-dropping experience.

[A note here about the OLLI at FSU Travel Abroad program:  This is our third experience (Florence and Barcelona being the other two). In all instances, we have been privileged to have access to experiences not afforded the typical traveler. With FSU's connections to other academic institutions in Europe and with highly credentialed instructors and facilitators on both sides of the Atlantic, we are offered an absolutely top-notch experience. We cannot praise it highly enough. This hour in the Parker Library simply took our breath away.]

From the sublime to the ridiculous:  After a brief dash back to the room to offload bottles of water, class notes, umbrellas (certainly no chance of rain), and other heavy items, we set off on a pub tour. First stop is a riverside pub where we have fish and chips (me) and bangers and mash (Mike). We have had these items in previous pubs, but agree that this version is primo. So far we are batting a thousand on dinner choices in this lovely college town. We eat entirely too much.

Deciding to forego the remainder of the pub tour in favor of a stroll around the city center, we make it back to the room just as night is falling. I sit now at the desk in our room, listening to the quieter-than-the-weekend chatter from The Eagle just down the alleyway, and enjoying the cool breeze from the open window. We look forward to three more days of wonderful classes and unique (to us) experiences. We go to bed tired, but happy.