So I finished mumbling through Morning Prayer this morning in the Westcott Chapel and went to the refectory for breakfast. (Personally, I am convinced that if we are made in the likeness and image of God, then God is not, in fact, awake at 7:40, but that is neither here nor there.) I know most of my Seaburian readers will find my eating breakfast bizarre since I rarely ever eat breakfast. But Tuesday is hot breakfast day, and you have to eat the beans, fried bread, mushrooms, and other
The one brilliant thing about the Westcott refectory is that the first thing you do is not to go through the food line, but go by the coffee pots. (For those not familiar with Anglicanspeak, refectory is a ridiculously churchy word for "chow hall.") This seems a logical set-up. However, at 8AM, first stop at coffeepotland is both a blessing and a curse.
On a normal day:
Coffee needed first thing to wake you up: good.
Sleepy people fumbling with glass orbs full of steaming liquid: bad.
On an We-need-some-excitement-at-the-end-of-term day:
Exploding coffee pots due to cool liquid and hot surfaces: priceless.
Pay no attention to the electricity and flickering lights. And that quick whiff of ozone you are smelling...forget it. It's all part of the fun of admission.