This Week in Devon

Seen: Cows. No, really, because today for the first time, there were cows in the pasture that I walk by to get to the Drama building. This pasture is reasonably large, and has quite a steep ravine running through it, as well as plenty of flora along the edges. So I do not know if the cows have always been there, or if they are a new addition. But there they are, a dozen or so black and white cows, now part of my morning walk.

Heard: A detailed plot synopsis of The Sound of Music including musical interludes of "Do Re Mi" and "Something Good." The interesting part is that I heard this through my kitchen window (which must perforce remain permanently open so that the super-sensitive smoke detectors don't go off merely because someone walks near the stove). So someone was giving this synopsis either above, below, or kitty-corner to me, also with their window open. I was tempted to start belting out "Eidelweiss" while doing my dishes, just to hear their reaction, but I have not the singing skills.

Smelt: The difference in the air between "cool," "crisp," "clear, but with a promise of rain," "foggy, but not rainy," and "pack your umbrella, fool." I am just getting the hang of this whole weather phenomenon. My favorite smell is "clear with a promise of rain" because it smells so soft, and clean, like some sort of atmospheric laundry detergent. Without actually smelling like laundry detergent, of course.

Tasted: Or rather, un-tasted: the avocado I bought from the farmer's market. I knew it, I knew that buying an avocado in England was a bad idea -- how can they ripen with no sun? -- and yet I missed California enough that I let the farmer's marked dude talk me into buying one for 70p. I knew better, I did, and yet I bought it anyway. And lo and behold, cooked into my quesadilla this evening was the Phantom Avocado of No Flavor. (The hot pasty I had for lunch was good though. God bless Oggy Oggy.)

Touched: My friend Nebcla's hair, which is awesome. If you've ever read Ramona the Pest, perhaps you remember how she got in major trouble in kindergarten for pulling Susan's hair. Susan is described as having red ringlets that corkscrew around so that when you pull them and release them, they bounce. (Ramona always says "Boing!" when she pulls Susan's hair, in the book.) I always thought such hair was a myth, created by a children's author, like princesses and dragons and children who drop out of kindergarten and mothers who let them get away with it. But no! Well, the other stuff is a myth, yeah, but my friend Nebcla really does have hair like Susan's and every now and then she lets me boing it.