That is 29 pesetas per kilo at the local supermarket in Spain.

Welcome to Sandia Tuttle's web page!

I graduated from Grossmont High School; in fact, my husband, my son, and my daughter are also Grossmont High grads!

Pepperdine University was my home and mentor for four years; even though I was a history/English major, I was very active in the theatre and music departments.

I did graduate work in literature at SDSU and in colonial history at The College of William and Mary in Virginia.

I teach English 090, 120 (online), 122, and 124.

This little boy brings much joy to our lives..

http://www.10news.com/video/14136845/index.htmlhttp://www.10news.com/video/14136845/index.html

Beowulf

Hwæt! We Gardena in geardagum,
<thorn>eodcyninga, <thorn>rym gefrunon,
hu <eth>a æ<thorn>elingas ellen fremedon.
Oft Scyld Scefing scea<thorn>ena <thorn>reatum,
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monegum mæg<thorn>um, meodosetla ofteah,
egsode eorlas. Sy<eth><eth>an ærest wear<eth>
feasceaft funden, he <thorn>æs frofre gebad,
weox under wolcnum, weor<eth>myndum <thorn>ah,
o<eth><thorn>æt him æghwylc <thorn>ara ymbsittendra
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ofer hronrade hyran scolde,
gomban gyldan. <thorn>æt wæs god cyning!
<ETH>æm eafera wæs æfter cenned,
geong in geardum, <thorn>one god sende
folce to frofre; fyren<eth>earfe ongeat
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<thorn>e hie ær drugon aldorlease
lange hwile. Him <thorn>æs liffrea,
wuldres wealdend, woroldare forgeaf;
Beowulf wæs breme (blæd wide sprang),
Scyldes eafera Scedelandum in.
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Swa sceal geong guma gode gewyrcean,
fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme,
<thorn>æt hine on ylde eft gewunigen
wilgesi<thorn>as, <thorn>onne wig cume,
leode gelæsten; lofdædum sceal
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in mæg<thorn>a gehwære man ge<thorn>eon.
Him <eth>a Scyld gewat to gescæphwile
felahror feran on frean wære.
Hi hyne <thorn>a ætbæron to brimes faro<eth>e,
swæse gesi<thorn>as, swa he selfa bæd,
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<thorn>enden wordum weold wine Scyldinga;
leof landfruma lange ahte.
<thorn>ær æt hy<eth>e stod hringedstefna,
isig ond utfus, æ<thorn>elinges fær.
Aledon <thorn>a leofne <thorn>eoden,
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beaga bryttan, on bearm scipes,
mærne be mæste. <thorn>ær wæs madma fela
of feorwegum, frætwa, gelæded;
ne hyrde ic cymlicor ceol gegyrwan
hildewæpnum ond hea<eth>owædum,
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billum ond byrnum; him on bearme læg
madma mænigo, <thorn>a him mid scoldon
on flodes æht feor gewitan.
Nalæs hi hine læssan lacum teodan,
<thorn>eodgestreonum, <thorn>on <thorn>a dydon
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<thorn>e hine æt frumsceafte for<eth> onsendon
ænne ofer y<eth>e umborwesende.
<thorn>a gyt hie him asetton segen geldenne
heah ofer heafod, leton holm beran,
geafon on garsecg; him wæs geomor sefa,
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murnende mod. Men ne cunnon
secgan to so<eth>e, selerædende,
hæle<eth> under heofenum, hwa <thorn>æm hlæste onfeng.
LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,
awing the earls. Since erst he lay
friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:
for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,
till before him the folk, both far and near,
who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,
gave him gifts: a good king he!
To him an heir was afterward born,
a son in his halls, whom heaven sent
to favor the folk, feeling their woe
that erst they had lacked an earl for leader
so long a while; the Lord endowed him,
the Wielder of Wonder, with world's renown.
Famed was this Beowulf:1 far flew the boast of him,
son of Scyld, in the Scandian lands.
So becomes it a youth to quit him well
with his father's friends, by fee and gift,
that to aid him, aged, in after days,
come warriors willing, should war draw nigh,
liegemen loyal: by lauded deeds
shall an earl have honor in every clan.
Forth he fared at the fated moment,
sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God.
Then they bore him over to ocean's billow,
loving clansmen, as late he charged them,
while wielded words the winsome Scyld,
the leader beloved who long had ruled....
In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel,
ice-flecked, outbound, atheling's barge:
there laid they down their darling lord
on the breast of the boat, the breaker-of-rings,2
by the mast the mighty one. Many a treasure
fetched from far was freighted with him.
No ship have I known so nobly dight
with weapons of war and weeds of battle,
with breastplate and blade: on his bosom lay
a heaped hoard that hence should go
far o'er the flood with him floating away.
No less these loaded the lordly gifts,
thanes' huge treasure, than those had done
who in former time forth had sent him
sole on the seas, a suckling child.
High o'er his head they hoist the standard,
a gold-wove banner; let billows take him,
gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits,
mournful their mood. No man is able
to say in sooth, no son of the halls,
no hero 'neath heaven, -- who harbored that freight!
Summary :
The story begins with the story of *Scyld Scefing, a great king who ruled by virtue of his power being greater than all others, and none would challenge him. This kept the peace, and he was rewarded tribute of gold.
The son of *Scyld, *Beow(ulf), continued the rule gifting gold to the worthy and earning respect and loyalty. This fame spread throughout the North-lands and their prosperity grew.
And when *Beow died, they adorned him and his ship with treasure and set him off to burial at sea.

Sir Gowain

SI<THORN>EN <thorn>e sege and <thorn>e assaut watz sesed at Troye,
<THORN>e bor3 brittened and brent to bronde3 and askez,
<THORN>e tulk <thorn>at <thorn>e trammes of tresoun <thorn>er wro3t
Watz tried for his tricherie, <thorn>e trewest on er<thorn>e:
Hit watz Ennias <thorn>e athel, and his highe kynde,
<THORN>at si<thorn>en depreced prouinces, and patrounes bicome
Welne3e of al <thorn>e wele in <thorn>e west iles.
Fro riche Romulus to Rome ricchis hym swy<thorn>e,
With gret bobbaunce <thorn>at bur3e he biges vpon fyrst,
And neuenes hit his aune nome, as hit now hat;
Tirius to Tuskan and teldes bigynnes,
Langaberde in Lumbardie lyftes vp homes,
And fer ouer <thorn>e French flod Felix Brutus
On mony bonkkes ful brode Bretayn he settez
wyth wynne,
Where werre and wrake and wonder
Bi sy<thorn>ez hatz wont <thorn>erinne,
And oft bo<thorn>e blysse and blunder
Ful skete hatz skyfted synne.

Prologue to Cantebury Tales

Whan that Aprill, with his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
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Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
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That slepen al the nyght with open eye-
(So priketh hem Nature in hir corages);
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages

Last updated April 14, 2007.

This unofficial website or page is maintained and owned by Sandia Tuttle. Content provided does not reflect the views or opinions of the Grossmont-Cuyamaca Community College District. Comments about the content on this site should be directed to the website owner at sandia.tuttle@gcccd.edu