Helen’s neighbor Susan is ebullient. She bursts forth with conversation like a shaken carbonated water. The Brits call it fizzy water, except Susan is not British, she is Canadian. We’ve joined her and her family for dinner to celebrate her niece Megan’s master’s degree in archeology from Oxford. Susan pops … Continue reading
We are in the process of walking through a herd of cows when Helen mentions Oxford’s etymological origins. Oxford means literally ox fjord or ox passage way. It makes sense in the current situation. She also says the cows won’t bother us if we don’t bother them. I just take … Continue reading
Blenheim Palace grandly emerges from a cluster of verdant trees. Its amber walls appear to glisten in the English sunlight. Helen has recommended that we enter the back gate of the palace for just this view. It is stunning. To the right of the palace is a great stone bridge … Continue reading
There are lots of smart people hanging around Oxford, in case you didn’t know. The place is lousy with them–the confidently smart, the unassumingly smart, the old and smart, the young and smart. My friend Helen is one of these smart people. She has just written a book, “Keeping the … Continue reading
Helen was sitting in Nero’s cafe with sheets of paper surrounding her like dining companions. It was great to see a familiar face after about 12 hours of travel and satisfying to know that I’d made it to Oxford. Helen looked like this is where she belonged, in a cafe … Continue reading