This story starts back in Paris, if the truth be known. You can look back at that and other photo essays to set the current one in context.

After the second prenatal scan, today, we feel a bit better about going public. We both found ourselves relieved when we saw the heartbeat flicker, and then astounded when the technician adjusted the ultrasound probe to reveal all four chambers of the little heart, pumping away.

Six of thirty photos in this essay are of the person we refer to as "Little E." The rest testify to the delightfully mild fall we've had in Fife this year, and to the fortune we've had in relocating to a new flat (with room for a tiny nursery, of course). There are a few belly shots, too, mostly at SJD's request.

I should let the essay speak for itself. Those who want to know the gender will have to read to the end.

Update (6 Nov): Thanks especially to the many medical professionals among my relatives for not correcting my Latin. I'm obliged to leave the link as it was, having circulated it already to friends and family. In that case, let the term word be German.

Tags: Personal

We finally got around to selecting a few (59) photos from our month in Paris. I've linked them on the photos page, but have decided on using Picasa as our free host. Older photos may be posted again in due course.

Tags: Personal

The course in Paris is over (sigh), and we're back in St Andrews again. I've been working on French on my own a little every day this week. Hopefully our memories and photos will motivate the practice for some while.

The French say that culture is like jam: the less you have, the thinner you spread it. Scotland has some culture (more than Kansas at least) but Paris is unbeatable in that regard. We've come back determined to find as much as we can. For example, food markets don't compare (I balked when I saw the word boulangerie today) but we're trying out Bellfield Organic Nursery, which we've heard recommended. As for the arts, again no comparison, but the Pittenweem Arts Festival is this weekend, and the Fringe Festival lasts all month.

As for the beach, why stay along the Seine (better photo here)? Most Parisians don't. After all, we have the East Sands just outside our door, and the West Sands across town.

Are we psyching ourselves up? Well, in view of a last year to write up, and of another Scottish winter, and of the end of Harry Potter (I keep trying to feel superior to it, but it's great), yes. What other choice do we have?

Spreading it thin, but with relish,
DnA

Tags: Personal

Adriel and I are off to Paris to learn French for a month, studying at the ILCF - CUE (in English here). We expect a few visitors already, so if you're in the area give a shout. We'll be on email (but not on the blog!).

I do plan to make it to Vienna for the canon/Kanon session, and perhaps to attend a special session in honor of Brevard Childs, which may or may not happen on Wednesday morning.

I'm looking forward to unplugging myself from my workstation. Further updates to this site can be anticipated in August, though.

Tags: Personal

Just got back in the UK after some weeks (largely internet free) with family in the US. Took some photos which I'll try to post sooner rather than later.

Among other highlights, I had dinner with my chef friend Robert Krause and his family (I worked for him part of the time I lived in Topeka).

Tags: Personal

Today is my dad's birthday. We both wish he could have been to the IWER event Friday, where I would have raised a glass to him. As a poor substitute, I'll quote some verse by Robert Burns he put me on to recently.

There's nane that's blest of human kind,
But the cheerful and the gay, man,
Fal, la, la, (&c.)

HERE'S a bottle and an honest friend!
What wad ye wish for mair, man?
Wha kens, before his life may end,
What his share may be o' care, man?

Then catch the moments as they fly,
And use them as ye ought, man:
Believe me, happiness is shy,
And comes not aye when sought, man.

Happy Birthday, Fuller.

Tags: Personal

I was ill last week and haven't even really looked at email for some time (sorry friends, Hebrews conference types—you'll hear from me soon now). I'm plowing through well over a hundred today. But I have got a few new posts in mind, which I'll permit myself to write periodically for diversions.

Tags: Personal

A colleague has posted photos from the annual St Mary's BBQ and Boules tournament. Seemingly the postgrads through quite a wrench (spanner) into the works by actually coming this year. The undergrads who kindly put on the event were seen running to Tesco for more food, and the tournament itself needed not just a new bracket, but a long round of prelims to eliminate players.

Unless you're from St Mary's you'll probably not recognize anybody in the pictures. I'm only in one, I think, which is fine with me. But you may be able to pick out Ian Bradley or Jim Davila or Mark Elliott. The faculty team beat both the undergrads and the postgrads. I think it's because they had more robes. The undergrads, being more experienced, knew this and planned for it. They lost probably because only half the team remembered to wear them.

See the photos here.

Tags: Personal, St Andrews

Eleven days ago I was going to call this post "Where I've Been: One Week Ago", but now it's already 2 weeks since I was making my way back from Cambridge. This has been one hectic spring. However, I've landed on my feet this Friday afternoon, and I have enough time left in it to write a quick post about my trip south before I have to dash off to a "retreat" in Glen Esk this weekend.

Cambridge is amazing. Or at least it is if you're into books. I'd heard about Tyndale House as the third best biblical studies library in the world, and as (according to the Duke of Edinburgh) the best kept secret in Cambridge. I've not yet been to the Ecole Biblique or the Vatican library, nor do I know Cambridge well enough to confirm or deny either of these claims. But I can say this: I was very glad to get a day desk at the Tyndale House library so I could read into the night, and have a home base for the week. The people there were kind and helpful. Yet impressive as its holdings are for a specialist library, its real advantage is in being just three blocks away from the Cambridge University Library, and with the Divinity Faculty Library directly in between.

I've never experienced anything like it. In the morning I'd read an important-looking source that I'd found the day before. In the afternoon, I'd dash from library to library, tracking down promising leads from the footnotes. In the end I spent a small fortune on photocopying, and I put my hands on dozens of books that I normally would have had to wait weeks to get through inter-library loans. I'm still a little dizzy.

I also spent part of an afternoon with the Damascus Document and a few other manuscripts from the Cairo Genizah. I was pleased that I could still read most of what I'd read with Jim Davila one year ago.

Of course, the whole purpose of the trip was to meet Brevard Childs, who was in residence there at the time. This privilege will almost certainly surpass the others in my memory. I've been a bit puzzled what to say about that afternoon in this post, though. I've decided to keep my comments rather limited.

Two things impressed me about his demeanor. First, he was impressively magnanimous towards scholars with whom I know he disagrees. Second, he remains a remarkably agile thinker for an octogenarian. In the end I felt I'd come into contact with an era of scholarship that no longer exists. He trained in Germany under that robust generation of post-war Old Testament scholars (he sat under both Eichrodt and von Rad). And more than simply offering reminiscences of days gone by, I sensed that I was in the presence of the person who keeps that tradition alive, probably more than anybody else still living.

The only other thing I should mention about the trip to Cambridge is the colleague who accompanied me. My thanks to Gary for making the trip lively and memorable in the evenings, at mealtimes, on the train, and for exploring the University Library's special collections in tandem.

OK, I'm off.

Tags: Personal, Childs, PhD

The haggis has by now all but disappeared from view. Three trips to the NHS Dental Access center later, my opened root canal has still not been properly filled. Last time, the dentist was due for a lunch break, and so told me to come back in a week so somebody else could finish the job. Today, just over a week later, I was sent away again because the next appointment had arrived, even though this dentist said it would only take her another 15 minutes to finish up. I'm now at the bottom of a two week waiting list.

I was actually composing this post while in the dental chair, but whatever clever things I was going to say about what was playing on the radio (the Cure, then the Police, at which point the dentist started singing along), or about three women with wildly different accents wrestling my mouth to put a stubborn rubber dam in place, have been eclipsed by my frustration at the whole process. In short, I'm a bit less impressed with the NHS than I was in part one.

On the drive back to St Andrews, I tried to talk myself back into an appreciation of all the government does. I tuned in to Radio 4, but still felt bitter. I turned my thoughts to the roads, but then almost immediately queued up for road works.

Hopefully the next trip will be the last. If not, will a temporary filling last the year and a half until I can return to my uncle's practice in Oregon?

Tags: Personal

I can’t say for certain that the haggis that did the tooth in, but even if it did not kill the tooth in the first instance, it acted as an accessary at the least. I am content to pin the whole blame on it because in murder cases one needs a culprit, and because a haggis (mine was an instantiation of the general rule) shows no remorse.

About a month back, my Roundel-mate Ted brought back a haggis and chips for my lunch because a nearby chip shop was offering the supper for the special price of £2. Jokes were made about the appearance of the haggis, particularly as another office-mate, who has the same has the emotional hang-ups with the food as I have with root canals, had never seen one up close before. Decency prevents my spelling out the nature of the comments in a public forum.

I ate ceremoniously at first, but by the time I had four bites to go nobody was watching anymore. So nobody saw me wince in pain as I bit down hard into a stray bit of bone. I discretely binned what remained of lunch.

The tooth was sore for the next few days, but seemed to improve by the next week. After another week, however, the soreness still had not gone away completely, and I began to obsessively tongue the back of the lateral incisor that was giving me trouble. By last Sunday, I knew in detail every irregularity of its surface.

On Monday I bought a coffee on the way to work. After one sip, I gave it away to a friend. I spent the morning fretting about the what nightmare getting dental care in the UK might turn out to be (local dentists stopped taking university students as patients this year), wondering irrationally if it could wait to the next trip home (in November!).

I went home for lunch and called the dental emergency hotline, then drove out the next day to small village, about 40 minutes out. It would be uncharitable to describe in any detail the office as it appeared to me. Suffice it to say that as I climbed into the avocado green examining chair I felt like I was in one of those Rockwell paintings of scared kids. The doctor put some waxy stuff on the ailing tooth and told me to wait a few days to see if it got worse. I would have asked for an X-Ray except I there wasn’t one. I received a small bill of £9.87.

I took courage at having paid a professional to tell me I have beautiful teeth, but by Saturday (last night) I was in the throws of the worst toothache imaginable. Phil came over to watch A Clockwork Orange, and I had to pause the movie twice to walk off the pain. After he left I watched The Life of Brian and didn’t laugh. When I realized there was no getting to sleep, I watched to the bonus material, but turned it off when I realized I was staring obsessively at the teeth of each Pythons as he got interviewed in turn.

At three I called dental hotline, then lay in bed & sweating cursing until morning. I drove over 5 inches of new snow to Kirkcaldy—the 20 mile drive took over an hour, but by then I was already becoming philosophical about my brush with suffering—and had a positive encounter with a friendly receptionist who said I was daft for coming out in such weather. She turned out to be the dentist as well, and I’ve felt great ever since she opened the abscessed tooth for draining. My bill came to £6.56. (Thank you NHS.)

Estimating £25 for the petrol, the experience has cost £44, including the haggis. I’m to have root canal therapy later in the week, so I expect the final bill will exceed £50. Not bad, from one perspective, but quite a nice bottle of single malt from another.

Tags: Personal

When Adriel leaves me at home by myself, as she has done this week to attend a friend's wedding, I adopt the lifestyle of an indulgent bachelor.

Instead of squeezing in a run before breakfast, I sleep straight through to mid-morning. Instead of going in to the office, I read on the sofa in my underwear until I'm hungry, at which point I fry an egg in the pan that's still sitting on the stove from the day before.

Eventually I shower and get dressed (perhaps even going for a jog first, though only if I feel like it) and make my way to the library or the Roundel. After all, there are other enticements for going out.

For example, I usually buy an interesting bottle of whisky to keep me company at home (often I sip some while reading in my shorts). This time I got a signatory cask strength bottling of Glen Garioch 1988, aged 16 years. It is less exciting than other cask strength whiskies I've tasted recently, but it is still turning out to be a good companion.

I also make sure to always have a pipe with me when out of doors. Normally I bring it out for special occasions, but when I'm in indulgent bachelor mode just making it out the front door before dinner seems reason enough to light up.

There's one other recurring pattern I'll mention: when Adriel leaves, I major in a film director she's not likely to go for. We watch Tarkovsky films together—she got me started on him in fact—so it's not that she doesn't go for good films that can be hard to watch. But it would be hard to both find time to watch several Coen brother films back to back, and still harder to work through Bresson's career in two consecutive evenings. (Both have been my diet on past occasions.)

She wouldn't go for David Lynch for somewhat different reasons, I guess. My director this time may appear to fall in this class, though I've found him more, uh, edifying, if that's the word. This week it's been Stanley Kubrick.

Dr. Strangelove is an amazingly easy film to watch for something filmed in 1964, thanks largely to the comedic efforts of Peter Sellers. I'll try to talk Adriel into watching Eyes Wide Shut with me at some point, too, but will feel the need to explain myself. Kubrick thought it was his best film, and many seem to have been disappointed that the nudity wasn't as titillating as hoped, two facts which taken together probably indicate that the film is worth watching. One helpful article I found analyzes the film from a sociological rather than psycho-sexual perspective, though I would want to add that for those who don't think the institution of marriage is obsolete the Hartfords's "Victorian" mores are a relevant point of interest.

Tags: Personal

It's been an extraordinarily busy week for me. I'd planned on blogging some, but time just didn't permit.

I am looking forward to the weekend, though, and it should afford some blog-worthy material. For one thing, I'm planning to make my way through VanderKam's critical translation of Jubilees (see two posts back, on 27 Feb). The one in English, not Ethiopic, of course.

Perhaps more importantly, I've reconvened IWER (the Institute for Whisky Effects Research). We'll meet at my flat Saturday evening, and by Monday I should by able to type about it coherently. And because I can, I've added a page under Research for the proceedings of IWER. If you're coming along, check there to see what malts remain unclaimed.

Tags: Personal

are finally online. Take a look…

While I'm at it, here's the bunkhouse where we stayed, and here's a map with links to places on the island.

Tags: Personal

Adriel and I took advantage of a long weekend (for her work) and drove to the Isle of Skye, the largest of the Hebrides. We had beautiful weather on the drive out, but the island was storm-beaten for our one full day there. We still ventured out, and got very wet and muddy. Even so, it was clear to us that the island offers dramatic scenery and is ideal for hiking excursions, even perhaps in strong wind and rain if one has the proper gear (we didn't quite).

As a result of the inclement weather, we spent longer than usual reading in the hostel. I read up on the Hebrides, and I now have it in my head that I want to visit the uninhabited Island of St Kilda. Anybody want to come?

Photos of the trip—though probably few and overcast—are soon to come.

Tags: Personal

Yesterday saw the start of a new semester. Technically I'm not taking classes anymore, so this matters somewhat less to me than to the undergrads all around me. But I will be auditing two courses this spring.

First, I'll sit in on Dr Grant Macaskill's class on Enochic Judaism. (Grant was, until recently, a fellow post-grad here at St Andrews. He's now a post-doc. No page yet on the college web-site.) That's on Mondays.

Second, I start Biblical Aramaic with Dr Davila (of PaleoJudaica fame). The first meeting is today, Tuesday.

Wednesdays are for postgraduate seminars. In the Scripture & Theology seminar (Dr Elliott at the helm) we start by looking at the text and reception of the Holiness Code (especially Leviticus 18). In the second part of the semester we'll probably take a look at Hans Urs von Balthasar’s The Glory of the Lord VII: The New Covenant.

The rest of the time I'll be reading Childs, reading up on midrash (whatever that often vague term might mean), and working on the Hebrews conference (I just posted some minor updates to that site). I'm not tutoring this semester, though. Should be busy enough without it.

Tags: Personal, PhD