I had such a crap journey to Oxford, I was late and had no time to change. I realised with utter horror that in order to dress for the occasion I had morphed into my mother. So I will NEVER wear that outfit again. I did take some lovely photographs but as always, I feel very edgey putting people on this blog without their permission. So this is the view later that evening when everyone went home and we went back for a coffee.
The drinks 'do' was a roaring success. I am so glad I went, I felt like an extra from Inspector Morse, talking to various Fellows and other sundry employees of the Oxford colleges. The room is the S.C.R which caused Daisy and I much mirth as do all the various names that Oxford uses. Why call a spade a spade when you can give it some other obscure title. For example;
Lecturers = Fellows
The bloke on the gate = Porter
Cleaner = Scouts
Domestic Bursar = Steward
A square of green grass = Quod (No that was not me running all over it last Thursday)
I could go on, in a way it will be sad to not see or hear about these places again. It is the end of an era. My mother came to Oxford over 10 years ago after the restaurant collapsed. She picked herself up and got another job. I am a Cambridge girl at heart, I was born there, my parents met there, my father went to college there, and my Gran lived up the road from there. Plus Cambridge blue is a far superior blue. So I was rather surprised when Mother took a job in the rival City. But it has grown on me and I have taken the privilege of wandering around various colleges for granted.
After drinks, a very disparate group of us went for supper round the corner. It was like being in an Alan Ayckbourn trilogy, an absolute hoot from start to end. Best of all I got to hook up with Daisy she is doing really well waitressing although she has lost the feeling in her thumb. She has already manged to talk to the Senior Fellow of pathology, which has really fired her up and I hope has given her the carrot she needs to succeed next year.