The horror!

4/2/09 11:00 PM

Oh no! Wiltshire has run out of grit, and the snow is still falling!

Wiltshire is the county that Salisbury is in, and instead of plows and salting the roads, they just spread grit on them. And they’re out of grit. There’s been a good, oh, inch, inch and a half accumulation of the white fluffy stuff today, and both Sally and Christopher think that the government might declare a state of emergency here tomorrow. School keeps getting cancelled and students are cheering, but buses and trains aren’t moving much.

Laughing!? Who, me? I would never!

In other news, the gargoyles at the Cathedral looked like they were drooling this morning.



This last one is my favorite. He’s had that red leaf stuck in his mouth for quite some time, and it looks like he’s got a tongue.

I went to the Cathedral today, wandered around and took pictures of oddities. Like this, for example:

I’ve searched through the entire Cathedral, and I can’t find another pillar that has faces carved into the bottom. This one’s unique!

Or what about this (circled in red)?

It’s a monkey, and he’s throwing something (peanuts) at the visitors! He’s hard to see, though, don’t you agree? Here’s a close-up:


And look at these two gravestones. This first kid was born May 13, 1683, and died Feb. 19 that same year. Think about that for a minute, if you don’t get what’s off about it…

It’s actually not a mistake. When little Thomas Lambert was alive, the calendar used was the Julian calendar. March 25th marked the new year, so he was born in May and died nine months later, in February, before the new year in March.

Or look at this tombstone… someone couldn’t spell! Cathedralis’ h is tiny and above the e, with a little ^ below the word to show where it goes (common proofer’s mark even today!), and that first part of the word is rubbed lower than the rest of the stone (I tried to get a picture showing this, but alas, it wouldn’t show up). Then look at Residentiary… or is it supposed to be Residentiarii?


After wandering around in the Cathedral, I ended up finding Amanda Berry, the only female Verger Salisbury’s ever had. We talked. And talked. And talked. And there was much laughing and showing of fantastic places like the upper sacristy (the music room), where the floor was covered in cardboard because it was original medieval tiles but the room was used for the children’s choirs to practice, and they didn’t want the kids traipsing all over the tiles. It also housed the original storage chest for the Magna Carta, which was so big that it was either put together in the room or put in before they put the roof on.

The more I talked to Amanda, the more it sounded like Verger would be an awesome position for me. She invited me to pop in at any time to have a cup of tea and meet the other Vergers, and she told me that only two other people had expressed any interest in the position. Yay! I have a chance!

Tomorrow, I’m going to go to the presentation of a paper by Suzanne Eward, the librarian (though Ed Probert will be the one presenting it), and I’ll try to meet with Kevin Cockburn, the HR guy, to talk about sponsorship from the Cathedral. I hope. Eee! ~crosses fingers~

When I was leaving, I stopped to chat with some of the Cathedral guides, and a third came up and announced that the Chapter House guide was on her own, so I volunteered to go help out. While I was there, a huge group of French schoolchildren all came in, about 10 years old. By huge, I mean… 69 students and 4 adults. That’s what the adults said the count was, at least. She asked if it was all right, and I said it would be fine. I gave her our pamphlet on the Chapter House in French, and after asking permission, she read it out loud to the group. I swear, those kids were the sweetest kids I’ve ever seen in the Chapter House. Every single one of them said “Hello!” as they filed past me (or “Good afternoon!” from a couple), and they all said it with such pride, as if they were excited to be speaking English with an English person. They were quiet and well-behaved, moving around with excitement but reverence. They listened quietly as the teacher spoke, and when they left, they were all smiles and “Good-bye!”s. A few said “Au revoir,” and I traded good-byes and au revoirs with all of them. They were much rowdier when I ran into them again, outside the Cathedral, but that was okay—they were outside the Cathedral. No need for such quiet reverence when there’s snow to throw!