Good evening! And I thank you for your patience. It has been about two weeks since my last post. I am now sitting down in the common area, having just turned in a homework assignment, and I am devoting the next fifteen minutes to composing what I am sure is a long-awaited blog posting.
I am feeling much better as compared to my last post. I still have a phlegm in my sinuses, but I feel totally fine. I think I may be allergic to England...? Either way, I am grateful that I feel good again!
I spent my mid-term break in a lovely little town called Martlesham in the county of Suffolk. My aunt put me in touch with her friends that live here, and I took the train Thursday afternoon into Ipswich station to spend the weekend at their home. Let me tell you something: it was fantastic to get out of London! The country is so different. The grass drips green, the air is clean, and the people exude a persona much friendlier than the big city of London. Bruce and Judy live on two acres just off a two lane road. A forest surrounds the property on two sides, and there are plenty of trees still between them and the road, providing a little "secret garden" refuge for all kinds of birds, two pheasants, and a fox, among other fauna. I probably make it sound much more romantic than it truly is. But I suppose you just had to be there. When the only green space one gets to see for a month is the perfectly manicured and planned parks of the inner city, it is refreshing to experience nature again. I received refreshment physically, emotionally, and spiritually during this past weekend. I already miss it! I enjoy the tranquility of the country, the laid-back atmosphere of a sunny window, a loveseat, a cup of tea, and a book. My hosts' hospitality was incredible, and I cannot wait to return on another weekend to "recharge my batteries."
In regards to my titular repetition, that refers to the inordinate amount of smoking here in London. Oh my goodness, it seems EVERYONE lights up at any given time. I can't tell you how annoying it is to be walking along the sidewalk and suddenly I inhale a cloud of acrid smoke. Some cigarettes don't smell too bad. Unfortunately, the people of London (and honestly the Americans as well) haven't learned that valuable fact. It seems they choose the cigarettes that smell the absolute worst. Oh, it is also equally distressing when the embers from a lit ciggy fly backwards at me as I am walking behind a smoker. Thank you, ma'am, I really wanted that singe mark on my coat... I suppose that is my pet peeve, explained in great detail for you here. I don't understand why someone would choose to ruin their lungs? Some people are genuinely ill, hacking up phlegm, coughing every five minutes. Then as soon as it is intermission, what do they do? Go outside and light up. Come on... For your sake, just stop. And for my sake as well. My lungs are actually paining me right now.
Anyhow, there is a small update for everyone! I will post pictures from the last few weeks tomorrow as I don't have ready access to my camera at the moment. Thanks for waiting, and thanks for reading! "Free" day tomorrow will be spent doing homework, of course. And then we have a theater performance tomorrow night to attend: One Man, Two Guv'nors. Sounds very funny! I hope it is better than "Juno and the Paycock" which was genuinely abhorrent.
Cheers!
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