Cold weather has come!

Brian here again: Considering that we arrived in England at the very end of September, it has been atypically warm for most of our time here. But this past weekend witnessed quite a cold snap. The stated low temperature on Friday night was 37 degrees, but when I woke up early Saturday morning to go to our church's men's prayer breakfast, it was 29 or 30 degrees. The result was a frost on the ground as I walked across campus to the bus stop:





































































Those pictures are, in order: the Meeting House, the library, Arts C, and across from the Falmer Station bus stop. If you want to see where those places are in relation to our home in Park Village, consult the campus map! This is just the beginning of the cooler weather--I'm told it will get quite a bit colder over the next few months. It's not the temperature here as much as it is the dampness and, since we're in a seaside town, the wind. Most of England gets snow in winter, but it rarely snows here; I'm not exactly sure why, except that it's somehow because of our proximity to the Channel.

This past weekend was Bonfire Night, which is held every 5 November in rememberance of Guy Fawkes, et al. Many cities have huge bonfires, burn people in effigy (traditionally the Pope, but they've expanded in recent years to include a whole host of other famous people), and shoot off bunches of fireworks. It was odd for us to experience fireworks on a cold, damp, foggy night--we're more used to July 4th celebrations, where everyone's in shorts and enjoying an ice-cold drink. But it was perhaps even more enjoyable to see fireworks in the damp fog as we walked through the streets of Brighton. The Lewes bonfires in the town just to the east of us are considered to be the best in the world. We didn't get to go to any bonfires because they're absolutely packed with people and it's a very bad idea to bring the boy. We tried to get a babysitter, but none was available. Maybe next year. The old poem tells it best:

Remember, remember the fifth of November,
The Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot.
I see no reason why the gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot.

Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent
to blow up the King and Parliament.
Three score barrels of powder below,
to prove old England's overthrow.

By God's mercy he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!

A penny loaf to feed the Pope.
A farthing o' cheese to choke him.
A pint of beer to rinse it down.
A faggot of sticks to burn him.

Burn him in a tub of tar.
Burn him like a blazing star.
Burn his body from his head.
Then we'll say ol' Pope is dead.

Hip hip huzzah!
Hip hip huzzah!