Today we're taking an afternoon train to London, visiting the National Gallery and the National Portrait Gallery, and then heading to the estimable Old Vic Theatre to see a brand new musical version of Groundhog Day, created by the same team that gave us Matilda, the Musical.  The show is just now starting its previews, so there's no way of knowing whether we're in for a treat or not.  Stay tuned.
       Yesterday we had our final academic activities, including our final class, our final afternoon newspaper readings (everybody starts with either The Guardian or The Daily Telegraph, reads for 20-25 minutes, and then swaps papers to read for another 20-25), and our final two college tours, one of Balliol, led by Michael and Patrick:

And one of Balliol's neighbor and rival, Trinity, led by Dawson and George:

We thought that Balliol had the more impressive dining hall, but that the gardens of Trinity were superior:

We also visited the stately Ashmolean Museum in Oxford:

         And we did our best to keep away from the production of A Midsummer Night's Dream taking place in our quad.  You would think that an English teacher would be all over that, but this production, set in the 1920's with Theseus played as a gangster, Puck as a drug pusher, and the fairies as vampire zombies, all to the accompaniment of frequent musical interludes from a rock band with a loudly amplified electric guitar, has driven me far, far away from the confines of the college.  The three-hour-plus running time does not help.  Here they are rehearsing:

     Speaking of drama, those of you who watch "Endeavor" on PBS may enjoy knowing that they've been filming the new season in our neighborhood.  One day it was right outside the gates of Brasenose, and another it was right down the road at New College.  If you are able to zoom in on the photo below, you will recognize Shaun Evans, center of the frame in a black suit, who plays the title role:

As I walked into the porter's lodge at New College to see if I might glimpse some filming, a figure appeared in the doorway just two feet away from me.  "Come through, friend," he said.  "Come through."  It took me a second to realize that the speaker was Shaun Evans.  He was talking to me.  Did I get flustered?  Was I the least bit tongue-tied?  Did I fail to fire back with a response witty enough to put him at ease and simultaneously establish myself as a clever modern American version of Noel Coward?  Yes, I'm afraid so, for all three questions.  "Come through, friend," said Shaun Evans, the young Inspector Morse to me, and I replied, "I haven't paid to get in yet."