Graduation Aggravation

Well, it didn’t go off without a hitch, but the important thing is that it’s done. Like so many aspects of my time at Westminster, it was annoying and frustrating but actually wasn’t that big a deal, and everything worked out fine in the end.

I went early to check in, pick up the tickets and get “robed.” The check-in and tickets were fine, but when I went to the robing area I realised that I didn’t have the reservation number for my gown, hood and cap. The people from Ede and Ravenscroft gave me a number to call to get it, so I went back upstairs to try it – the Barbican is on several levels, most of which have poor to non-existent mobile reception. The people on the phone, who were (I guess) at the head office, couldn’t find my reservation at all. I will admit, I was pretty upset about this. I actually stamped my foot on the floor. I said, “I am really unhappy about this. I’ve paid £60 for tickets for my family to be here and now I may not be able to graduate because you’ve lost my reservation,” to which the woman on the phone replied, “We haven’t necessarily lost it; we just don’t have any record of it.” To which I replied, “Well, since I definitely made it, I’d say you lost it.” Then I said, “Thank you very much for all your help” – but I didn’t mean it! I didn’t actually think she’d been very helpful at all!

Anyway, I went back downstairs, where a very, very old (and really very nice) man told me that they always bring extra regalia so I could rent a robe, etc, on the spot. I’d have to pay again, but he would make a note of it and I could sort it out later. But they only took cash, and I hadn’t brought an extra £50 to graduation with me, so I had to go back upstairs to find a cashpoint. There was one in the building, but it charged £1.95 for a withdrawal, which I found deeply annoying. I eventually got back downstairs and the nice old man gave me a receipt that looked like something you’d find in Bob Cratchit’s wallet, on which he wrote in spidery handwriting “paid twice?”. They gave me a robe, which I think was too small, a hood and a cap.

From there on out, it was pretty smooth sailing. I ran into my friend Nigel and chatted with him and his parents for a while. Matthew and his parents showed up eventually and we all got seated without incident. I finally cooled down – I’d been overheated and was literally pouring with sweat throughout the whole lost reservation situation – and found my place among a few friends and lots of people I vaguely recognised from my classes. It was a tiny bit anti-climatic. We finished classes in March and I turned in my dissertation in August. I got my results in mid-October and even got my diploma in the mail a couple of weeks ago. So on the day, we listened to a couple of speeches, and then walked across a very wide stage to shake the chancellor’s hand. That was it. Then Matthew, his parents and I went to lunch at a cute, tiny gastropub nearby. It turned out that, after so much excitement, roast pork belly and chips was a bit too rich for me, and I had to go home and take a nap (though, to be perfectly honest, that was part of my plan for the afternoon all along).

So I’m settling into the new job. Well, it isn’t actually very settled – very much oscillating between panic and boredom at the moment – but I’ve started to learn InDesign, the program the architects use for putting together brochures and other documents and which did NOT come at all intuitively to me. As one of my new team mates pointed out, progress is being made – I started out disliking it, then moved to ambivalence, and have now reached a “mehh” sort of shrugging, hand-waggling stage.

Other than that, things have been pretty calm. The weather has changed. Though it still isn’t cold, it definitely isn’t summer anymore. I haven’t been in the back garden for any length of time in weeks. In one sense, we’re already settling in for the winter, getting used to coming home in the dark, eating dinner and snuggling on the sofa under a blanket. I can certainly think of worse ways to pass the time…

But on the other hand, we’ve been doing quite a bit. In the last month, we’ve visited Long Melford, the village where Matthew’s grandmother lived in retirement (very charming, full of antique shops) and been to the theatre (to see War Horse, which was genuinely very impressive), a birthday party that featured food, billiards and karaoke, and, since the screening season has started in earnest, at least one film a week. We’ve got several concerts coming up, and my graduation from Westminster. The ceremony will be held at the Barbican Centre, widely considered a Brutalist masterpiece and, in my experience, very difficult to find your way around. One of my classmates joked that maybe the final test is actually finding your way to the ceremony - if you can do it, they'll give you the degree and if not, you've just wasted a year of your life. (I think that last point may be debatable, even if we find the auditorium, but spilt milk, right?) So fingers crossed on that one...

After graduation, I’m going to Edinburgh to visit my friends the Bednars. I’m looking forward to several days of pretty much non-stop chat, interspersed with thrift-shopping and eating. I feel a little bad to realise that their younger daughter Josie is almost a year old and I still haven't met her, but if her Halloween photos are any indication, she is a very cute little piggie. I mean, girl.

Work is a Four-Letter Word...

...but it turns out that "payday" is like sweet, sweet music. I've been back at work for a month now. There have been ups and downs - there has been a change of landlords, half our staff has relocated to a different floor and, most disruptive to me personally, my friend and co-worker Amy is going back to South Africa to continue her architecture studies. I'm moving to a new role starting next Wednesday, so there will be two new people to train from Monday. It's been challenging, to say the least, but it's not too bad. And I got paid on Tuesday. I was used to being paid weekly, so a month's pay in one check made me feel like I was suddenly very rich. I celebrated by ordering this dress.

I've had my eye on it for a while, but as soon as I placed the order, I started to lose interest. I might send it back, or it might be my new favorite thing...

Beatlemania

It's not 1964 around here, but you'd be forgiven for thinking so - and not just because I've got a really cute new, mod A-line tunic dress (which I washed today and was hanging up to dry when I spotted a "dry clean only" tag. I simply harrumphed. I don't believe in dry cleaning and, besides, in my relationship with my clothes, I am the boss. If they can't stand a gentle cycle or a swish in the sink, I don't want them around!). Anyway, I was actually going to write about how there's an incredible amount of Beatles synergy around lately. A couple of weeks ago, thousands of people congregated at the zebra crossing on Abbey Road to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the album being released - and, from what I heard, caused quite a bit of traffic congestion in the process. There's the release of the Beatles Rock Band game and a boxset of re-masters of all their albums, which I think happened on the same day. The BBC has been showing lots of Beatles documentaries and specials, of which we watched about 6 straight hours last week. This culminated in Help!, which was just as funny as I remembered from seeing it as a teenager. We decided that George has to be our favourite, certainly in this film, since he was the Action Beatle, tackling nefarious henchpeople and leaping onto the back of a speeding car, etc. Add to that the fact that he wrote "Here Comes the Sun" and he's obviously the best.

And then today as I walked to the grocery store, I saw two people wearing Beatles t-shirts. One was an album cover, but the other was the shirt pictured above (black letters on white). I like how simple it is, but as I thought about it, I became increasingly annoyed - the names are in the wrong order! Honestly, everyone in the entire world says John, Paul, George and Ringo. Right? Right??? Hmmm. I'm guessing that some people will say that they don't really care and as long as you don't actually leave one out, there is not one proper way of ordering the Beatles. To this, I would respond that there is a proper way to do everything.

...And We're Back!

So, in the month since my last post, I haven't been having lots of fun and not sharing it, or taking lots of really artistic photos and not sharing, or even going about daily life and not sharing my insightful and amusing thoughts about it - I've been writing and, more importantly, completing and, most importantly of all, handing in my dissertation. Yay for me!

Before you get too impressed, this was an MA dissertation, only 35 pages long and more what we'd call a thesis in the US, not a real, proper PhD dissertation, which can run into the 100s of pages. Still, it was hard work, especially as I never really got the hang of "social science" writing versus "liberal arts" writing. During the course, I wrote a paper on environmental economics, in which I literally did not understand what I was writing but got a pretty good grade. Then I wrote one about wind farm implementation, on which I worked really hard, did lots of research in local newspapers, and thought I really nailed it - and made a letter grade lower than the previous paper. Then there was the paper that I forgot about. I'd neglected to write down the amended hand in date and was reminded of it the day before when I ran into a classmate at the library who just happened to mention it. I ran home and wrote it in about 18 hours, with no outside sources and a very questionable central metaphor holding it all together. And, of course, that was the highest grade I got the whole year! So it's been a struggle and I have no idea how it will be received. We don't get our results until the end of October, so it will be a nice, long wait - argh!

In the meantime, I'm looking forward to rejoining the land of the living. I've been been keeping my head down for most of the year and have avoided most social occasions over the summer. For the last two weeks, except for morning walks, I literally did not leave the house. I think the guys at the Turkish shop across the road were getting worried about me - I normally go in there a lot, sometimes several times a day. I have a long list of projects I want to do, like finishing reupholstering my chair, gardening, making jam, and lots of sewing. And, of course, Christmas. It's already the end of August, which means I've got to get my butt in gear. I've already got a theme, with a runner-up in place in case I change my mind, and have preliminary lists started. Last year I was so busy with school that I felt like I didn't get to really enjoy Christmas, so this year I'm going to do it right. I'm getting excited just thinking about it!

Saturday at the V&A

Yesterday I went to the Victoria and Albert Museum with my friend Amy. We went specifically for a screening of Handmade Nation, a documentary about the DIY/indie craft movement in the US. It wasn't a cinematic tour de force, but it was really interesting and I came away with notes of people to look up and ideas of things to do.

While we were there we also saw the Telling Tales exhibition, which I thought was very good. Or, at least, very interesting. My favourite piece was probably the Linen Cupboard House, though the mole slippers were sort of lovely. (The micro-website is pretty good, so have an explore.) I think I like this little guy, too. It's hard to see, but he has golden grubs in his ears - which is disgusting but sort of beautiful.

The DIY ethos of the film inspired me, so when I got home, I hand-crafted some roasted vegetables and sausage, then resourcefully combined it with some spinach Matthew'd cooked earlier for my dinner. I must say, I was very pleased with my work!

Dreamland Theatre

For the past few months, I've been having very interesting dreams almost every night. It started when my parents were visiting in April. Being gracious hosts, we gave them our room and we slept in the basement/guest room. It is passably comfortable and we didn't have trouble sleeping or anything, but I think my sleeping mind knew I was in a different environment and went a little bit haywire. One night, for example, I dreamed that I ran a marathon with Willie Nelson.

The dreams continued after their visit, when we moved back into our bedroom. About a month ago, just before her birthday, I dreamt that I was at a masquerade party with my friend Jennie which featured all sorts of activities. I listened to a lecture about alternative energy sources and Jennie kept telling me the yoga/massage area was amazing. She wore a Regency style dress in a multi-coloured sari material and a paper mache mouse mask; I don't know what I was wearing because I couldn't find a mirror. I looked all over, but I couldn't find the toilet. Then a woman asked where we were parked because there was a monster at the party. I didn't believe her, as it was a masquerade party, after all, and I figured she had just seen someone weaing a monster mask. She seemed pretty adamant. I still couldn't find the toilet. It was weird, and then eventually I woke up.

Last week I dreamed that I bought some hand-knitted socks from my old friends and former co-workers Mayanna and Ashley at a craft fair. The socks were lavender, but had red and white stripes on the inside.

This morning I dreamed that I'd gone to visit my old friend Russell Brand (?!?) because he was getting married (?!?) and I'd taken my mom (?!?!?!?) with me. My mom got the guest room and I slept on the sofa, which was fine the first night - this was a really long dream - but the second night he had lots of noisy people over and I couldn't sleep. Then I was back at my house here in London, with Matthew and my mom and sister (and presumably my dad and brother-in-law, though I didn't see them). A baby pigeon flew into the house and the cats started chasing it. I got it away from them and carried it around to keep it safe. At some point, while sitting around a table on our patio, I realised that the pigeon had turned into a real baby, though it was still cooing like a dove. I decided I would keep her and that we'd call her Frankie.

So that was weird.

Garden Update

Matthew always says it's an ill wind that blows nobody good, and while I'm not absolutely certain what that proverb actually means, he uses it as an alternative way of saying that every cloud has a silver lining. (There is some cloud/wind connection that makes sense to me.) Thus, I suppose one nice thing about last year's garden being such a non-starter is that I'm very pleased with the limited success I'm having so far this year. It's been very rainy the past few weeks, but I'm holding out hope that we will still get enough sun overall for a successful season. My little plants, if not exactly thriving, are at least alive and growing (in general - I had a bean and a pea plant that just sort of gave up the ghost, but what can I do if the plant does not have the will to survive?).

These are some peas waiting to be transferred to larger pots, which just arrived in the post yesterday, with the new compost, which has not been delivered yet. They're still a little delicate and it's been chilly lately, so I've been moving them inside at night but back outside during the day in the hopes that they'll get fertilised by passing insects. As you can see (if you look really closely), one is already growing a little pea pod! I've got four pods on the go at the moment, which - admittedly not an enormous crop - is enough to add to a very small salad.

This little pea has one of the other pods. I just don't get it; the peas seem to have almost sprouted from the soil with flowers just waiting to burst out, but the beans, while growing quite tall, aren't ready to flower yet. I guess they're shy...

It looks like the Great Tomato Debacle of '08 may be behind us - I've got at least 4 baby tomatoes growing and I reckon I could get as many as 10 or 12, just from this one pot! A couple of other plants have flowered, but most haven't. It isn't a completely unmitigated success, but I am getting pretty excited about the possibilities.

But speaking of unmitigated success, the spinach patch continues to amaze. We have eaten spinach every day for weeks and weeks, and it just keeps growing! This photo was taken after I picked two bags this morning to take to my friends Monika and Amy. And that was after I picked some for our dinner two nights ago, and enough to make a "Welcome to the building/sorry your stove doesn't work" spinach lasagne for our new upstairs neighbours just a few days before that! I've used it in quiches, lasagne, sag paneer, quesadillas and shredded it in tacos, though usually I just wilt it in a pan with a tiny bit of olive oil and water. A little salt and pepper and it's magic.

I don't know how these little guys are going to turn out, but so far they are doing brilliantly. On a whim, I planted parsnips, because we really like them roasted but they tend to be the most expensive of the root vegetables - several times more expensive than carrots, for example. If they carry on as they've been doing, we should have some fairly decent ones and probably enough for several batches of roast vegetables, so I'm already planning to plant loads more next year.

In fact, I've got lots of plans for next year, most of them half-formed and flying around my head randomly. I'm feeling pretty ruthless about some of our ornamental plants, especially the ones occupying our few sunny spots. Rocco has an apple tree of which I am getting very jealous. But I'm most excited about a current project. I have always heard that mint is very hardy and spreads, almost to the point of being invasive and that you shouldn't put it in a flower bed because it's so hard to control. We have a separate little bed built into the wall at the end of the garden. It doesn't get much sun and is in one of the paths that the cats and foxes use to get in and out of the garden. I've put a little mint plant in it a few days ago; for now, I'm watering it and waiting and every day I whisper to it, "Go wild! I know you can do it!"

We shall see.

4th of July - Cupcakes and Bunting

As per usual, we had a cook-out to celebrate the Fourth of July. The novelty this year was that we actually had it on the Fourth. Last year's was on the fifth, since US Independence Day is not recognised holiday in the UK and everyone had to work on the day. This despite the fact that, as Matthew points out, you'd think the British would've been glad to be rid of us if we were going to be so cranky and rebellious. Or something like that. He has a similar line about Thanksgiving, like being thankful to not have to deal with those dreadful colonials anymore. And then he usually says, "Present company excepted." Usually.

Anyway, we had some people over and had a nice day in the garden. It was lovely and hot, unlike the preceding week, which had been hellish and hot. Our practice barbecues paid off - in a way. Matthew has gotten pretty good at setting up the barbecue with the briquettes and firelighters but his attention still wavers and neither of us is very good at determining when things are cooked as opposed to just charred on the outside while still harbouring dangerous bacteria on the inside. Fortunately, the guests were there to help out. It was sort of audience participation, with everyone taking a turn to flip burgers or turn sausages or say, "Actually, this is still raw inside, I'm going to put it back on."

My position is that I cook inside the house, not in the garden, so I focused more on the baking. We had cupcakes again this year, with flags, sprinkles and little decorations that my parents sent in a pre-Independence Day care package. This is just a sample. There were many, many more than this. Thanks to my friend Adrienne for helping with the icing and decoration. To anyone who got little bits of paper stuck to the back of their flag deco, that was my fault, not hers! I think I have discovered the secret to good icing. I've tried margarine and real butter, with very disappointing results, but apparently the key is shortening. Or as they call it here, vegetable lard. Sounds yummy, huh?

I also made a Victoria sponge cake, which English people just love. It's like a layer cake, but without the icing. There is jam between the layers and the top is dusted with powdered sugar. I added fresh strawberries to this one and dusted the top just before cutting. There were obviously some issues with the filling, which was on the oozy side, but it still tasted very good.
To continue this summer's theme of all bunting, all the time, I made some special red, white and blue bunting, with fabric kindly supplied (and even cut!) by my mom. All I did was lay it out on the floor to decide on the order, then pin and sew. It was great. The flags are raw-edged, with the top folded into seam binding and zig-zag stitched.

And you know how at a party, everyone congregates in the kitchen, no matter how cramped? Apparently the same principle operates at barbecues, as you can see below. Everyone is crammed within 20 feet of the grill (just out of site to the left), while the other 2/3 of the garden is empty, except of deck chairs and a red/white/blue picnic blanket. I just don't get it. Though, to be fair, they may feel they need to keep an eye on the grill in case the cook wanders off.

The postscript is that today I have eaten half a blueberry muffin (Matthew's friend Vincent brought 2 dozen homemade muffins!), two cupcakes, a hamburger and sausage sandwich, and some baklava (brought by Adrienne). I feel slightly sick, but mostly in a good way. I like to think, the American way.

P.S. Apologies on the wonky formatting lately. Blogger is doing my head in!

Paradise Gardens: the Vintage Arcade

The other weekend we went to Paradise Gardens, a free festival in Victoria Park. There were bands and food booths and lots of people sitting around in the grass. My favourite part was Carter's Steam Fair, an old-fashioned carnival that tours the southeast of England with vintage attractions and rides. I took a lot of photos, but my favourite part was the vintage arcade, with all the old penny games. They don't take pennies anymore, but the tokens were 8 for £1, which I thought was pretty good, and according to Matthew, they are the size and shape of old pennies, i.e. really big and flat.

As you can see, these aren't really games of skill, more just "pull a lever and see where the little ball goes". I preferred the ones where I knew I would win something, or at least get some info. We didn't do this one, but a more traditional Love-o-meter said Matthew is a cold fish! I think he was a bit disappointed, but I found it pretty funny.

I consulted the Matrimonial Bureau regarding a future child and this is what I got:

I'm not sure what I think about it. Not only is the baby black - I'm not a geneticist, but I believe that would be a highly unlikely outcome of the two of us procreating - but it also seems to be poor! While we are so solidly middle-class! I wonder if this machine is perhaps not terribly reliable and that it might have given me a picture of someone else's baby.

I was much happier with the results of the X-ray photo machine below:

As you can see, they were very accurate:

Cabbages and Frocks

On Sunday, we went to the Marylebone Village Street Fair, which featured Cabbages and Frocks, a craft fair that normally takes place every Saturday in the churchyard of St Marylebone Parish Church. Almost every single thing was very, very cute! These are some of my favourites:

The theme for the day seemed to be bunting and cupcakes, and although these ladies didn't have actual cupcakes at their table, their items were so sweet, I almost went into a sugar coma anyway. As with all the vendors, I asked if they minded if I took a photograph; when I said it was for a blog, they said, "Oh, we love blogs!" Me too!

Unfortunately, I didn't get a card or web address for them and can't find anything Google-able in my photos, so I have no choice but to go back next weekend so I can link to them.

Linda of Handmade to Measure had a gorgeous table dominated by owls, but also featuring cats, cushions, little coin purses and a dachshund draft excluder. She uses vintage fabrics and some carefully chosen reproductions to make these really bright, beautiful designs. As I was taking these pictures, I heard a passerby say to her friend, "Didn't we make owls like that at school? With fabric and bits of felt for the face?" The friend murmured something vaguely affirmative, and the woman said, "Well, I know how to do that, then!" You may know how to do it, I thought, but you didn't do it. Linda did.

Oh, and there was a roast pig.

Stella James makes beautiful organic knits, mostly for little people. This booth actually made feel a little bit sad that I'd managed to buy and send my niece's birthday present (more or less) on time!

Tarts of Temptation are Cabbages and Frocks regulars. They have cupcakes, tarts, cake by the slice and cake-y things like candles, magnets and little knitted cake ornaments (or maybe pin cushions?)

Just a few tables down was Peggy's Cupcakes, which does what it says on the tin - all cupcakes and nothing but. I am sick with jealousy over her gorgeous, fluffy icing, having recently tested and rejected a new recipe for my 4th of July cupcakes.

I'm also quite jealous of her precious cake stands. I've got my eye on a rather different one on Amazon, but these are so sweet.

And it's probably rude to call Chelsea Pensioners sweet, considering that they are all former soldiers, so I asked these gentlemen if I could take their photo because they looked so resplendent. They couldn't refuse after that - who could?

Toys

I found out the other day that my young friend Bo (you may have seen her wearing a tiger dress and a leafy fairy dress) is a big fan of Winnie the Pooh. So big a fan, in fact, that according to her mother, she has been absolutely weepy on learning that "there are no more Pooh books" beyond the ones they have already read. I know that heartache - I was pretty upset myself when I realised the severely limited size of JD Salinger's ouvre.

Anyway, the discussion of Pooh made me think of Eeyore. Not just the depressive donkey in the books, but my very first toy, bought for me by my dad before I was even born. All things considered, I think he's holding up pretty well. He still has his tail (unlike the original) and while he only has half a smile left, I don't think the Eeyore in the book ever really smiles at all.

While I'm getting nostalgic about toys, I thought I'd also photograph Munka. As far as I know, he doesn't appear in any classics of children's literature, but I think he'd very nice. He's been in the wars and has the scars to prove it; as I was posing him in the chair, I found another seam that could use some mending. He's also incredibly lumpy. But a very nice monkey, I think.

Who Needs a Beach?

I had a very productive meeting with my dissertation tutor yesterday and have a big research day planned for tomorrow, so since Matthew had the day off, we spent it hanging around the house. We were actually much more productive than the following photographs would suggest. Matthew did more painting on the conservatory doors and frame. I did a lot of weeding and general gardening, washed and hung two loads of laundry, and put away my winter coats and scarves. Once that was all done, we sat in our deck chairs under the fig tree and read. I even read a school book - that's how dedicated I am. It's a pretty idyllic scene:

And so you can really see what it's like when in use, please see below, in which Matthew reads about crazy German terrorists while soaking up the sun:

Home Grown

This may not look very exciting but it really, really is. This is a lovely big bunch of spinach, which happens to be the first thing that we're eating out of our garden! It turns out that in addition to being quite strict with the plants, Rocco is also a bit sneaky and secretly planted spinach in one of our flower beds. I noticed the similarity to the spinach in his garden, so I didn't weed it out and the whole story came out today when I asked his opinion on whether our leafy things were edible.

And they are ever so edible when put into Turkish style baked eggs, which is what I had for dinner. The original recipe used rocket instead of spinach, but I like spinach better. Also, we now have a bunch of it growing for free in our back yard, so we're going to be eating a lot more of it. That said, I think you could probably make this with any cookable leafy green.

Baked Eggs with Yogurt and Chilli

300g spinach (or one bag of pre-washed)
4 eggs
150g plain yogurt
1 garlic clove, peeled and crushed
50g unsalted butter
1/2 tsp kirmizi biber (or chilli flakes mixed with paprika)
6 sage leaves, shredded (or a good shake of dried sage)

Pre-heat oven to 300F/150F. Wash the spinach and cook in pan over medium heat for 5-10 minutes - the water from rinsing should be enough to cook it in.

Transfer the spinach to a small, ovenproof dish and make four indentations in it. Carefully break an egg into each crater, taking care not to break the yolk. Place in the oven for 10-15 minutes, or until the egg whites set.

While the eggs are in the oven, mix together the yogurt and garlic along with a pinch of salt. Set aside - but do not chill.

Melt the butter in a small saucepan, add the kirmizi biber and fry for a minute or two or until the butter foams and turns a nice golden-red. Add the sage and cook for a few more seconds, then remove from the heat.

Once the eggs are done, take the dish out of the oven. Spoon the yogurt mix over the centre and pour the hot chilli butter over the yogurt and eggs. Serve piping hot.

This makes a nice brunch item but I feel it isn't quite enough to go it alone. It needs accompaniment, by big mugs of tea or hot chocolate(!), fat slabs of toasted granary bread, a big bowl of oatmeal or muesli, and maybe some nice sausages. Or whatever you have for breakfast. That sounds really good to me and now I want to have breakfast for dinner - except that I've already had dinner. Oh well. A big mug of hot chocolate will be a pretty good dessert.

The Back Garden

I know it's almost June, but only in the past couple of weeks has it been consistently warm enough (though not necessarily sunny) that I'm convinced that it's actually Springtime. We've had fits and starts of nice weather for a while, but now it really seems to be sticking. Yay for sunshine! To celebrate, I took a tour of the back garden a few days ago.

This may not look like much at this point, but with any luck, this planter will supply us with tomatoes and lettuce. The lettuces are coming in really well, actually, and are already noticably bigger than in the photo. I've planted another container with lettuce and several more with tomatoes. We eat a lot of them in the summer and I'm hoping to improve over last year, when I got not a single tomato. Everyone I've talked to says it was generally a bad year for gardening, so hopefully it wasn't my black thumb that did it.

Our next door neighbour/gardener Rocco did a lot of work in our garden last year. We're trying to keep it up to a degree - he did clear out a lot of weeds and overgrowth, which definitely needed doing, but he is much more of a garden disciplinarian than I am and left the flowerbeds a bit bare - and even wanted to get rid of more. He divides plants into two general categories: pretty flowers and rubbish. Needless to say, we had a lot of rubbish. He wanted to get rid of this little rose bush, but I vetoed the removal. Its flowers aren't very impressive, but I find them very sweet and tiny.

I bought these little carnations last year and am happy to say they're doing well. They are just under the rose bush so I can see both from the back door.

This camelia is so impressive - the bloom is larger than my outspread hand. Another bloom is just opening up and there are two more buds, so I'm looking forward to a lengthy show.

I don't know what these purple flowers are, but we've got several clumps of them. I've seen them in other gardens and in parks, so they must be good. Plus, they made it past Rocco's cull last year, so I guess they qualify as "pretty flowers".

We have a single hollyhock (I think). It gets ridiculously tall, like three or four feet, and lasts a long time. I imagine a bunch of them would be very impressive, but for now we're making do with just one. Don't want to overdo it.

Rocco gave us several beautiful purple lillies (or irises - I don't know the difference). They're all blooming very impressively against the wall of the shed. I can see them from the kitchen window.

This jasmine also grows against the shed and it is gorgeous. I brought a sprig in the other day and you could smell it as soon as you walked in the door. Lots of fat, lazy bees hanging around, but they aren't too aggressive so we're co-existing peacefully.

And this vine I just don't get. The bottom of it is brown and shriveled; we thought it was dead and almost pulled it out. Then it started growing leaves and produced these very large, sort of alien-looking buds, which opened into large, strange flowers. I don't know what they are, but I like them.

Spring Cleaning

We did most of our heavy-duty spring cleaning in March, in advance of my parents coming to visit. We are having some more houseguests (the DJs for Matthew's brother's wedding) next weekend, so that's a good excuse to do a few more things. Today Matthew painted our new conservatory door* and while, he had a brush in hand, also threw a lick of paint on the kitchen window sill. It is blindingly white and so pretty now!

I spent the day reading in preparation for starting a draft of my dissertation. I would much rather be painting, but had to confine my creative urges to making us an afternoon snack (toasted cheese and tomato sandwiches toasted on the George Foreman grill - yummy and easy to clean!) and changing my desktop wallpaper. I can't afford real Cath Kidston wallpaper, but these make a pretty good substitute...

*The conservatory door had to be replaced after we had an attempted break-in last November. The would-be burglars splintered the door frame but didn't get in. Then they climbed on top of the glass conservatory and kicked in the window to the flat upstairs, which has been empty for over a year, so they went away empty handed. That only made us feel mildly better, though, as it took three months for our insurance to sort out our door being replaced, during which time we got very, very cold!

A day by the sea

Monday was a bank holiday in the UK, but we celebrated in our own way - by staying at home on the day and then taking a day trip to Hastings on Tuesday. We'd had several days of nice weather in London and a day at the seaside sounded like fun. It was fun, but not in a warm, beach-y sort of way. In more of a blustery, slightly freezing, "if I'd forgotten for a moment how cruel the British summer can be, it's coming back to me now" sort of way...

We decided on fish and chips for lunch, which seems like a no-brainer, but a historical pub was very tempting. We pencilled it in for dinner, but didn't count on the fish being so unbelievably huge and greasy. It was good, but despite the labelling, it actually seemed quite UNhealthy.

Neither of us was able to finish and we'd ordered the regular portion - I can't imagine the large! I also had a pickled egg. I've never had one before but the concept has always intrigued me. The flavour was less complex than I'd imagined, essentially just "hard boiled egg" plus "pickle juice". I mean, I know that's what it is, but I thought it might taste like more. I have resolved to try a pickled quail's egg at the next opportunity (no, I don't run across them very often, so I have no idea when that will be). Maybe that will be the flavour haunting my imagination.

Of course, the natural thing to do after a very heavy, greasy meal is to climb a hill so steep that it has a funicular railroad running up it. We cut through a graveyard on the way up, which is now a lovely little park.

Apparently the graves are still there, but to make it more park-like the headstones are now just leaning neatly against the wall. This seemed weird to me, but it is a nice little park.

This is practically my only photo of Hastings Castle, which was built by William the Conqueror (he actually built the first fortifications even before the Battle of Hastings), that isn't full of French high school students. There was a group of them roaming the town and we ran into them just about every time we turned a corner. They weren't horrible, just adolescent. Very rambunctious, wearing silly clothes as badges of their youth culture, chasing each other around and shrieking as signs of affection, etc - in other words, teenagers.

Later we wandered around on the beach for a while. As you can see, it isn't the kind that makes you want to spread out your towel and soak up the sun, even if there had been sun for soaking.

Hastings is home to England's biggest beach-launched fishing fleet. That means that all these sort of sad looking little boats aren't abandoned, but at high tide are pushed into the water by tractors. We learned in a film at the castle's interpretive centre that Hastings's harbor silted up in the 13th century, so how they fished between that time and the invention of tractors, I don't know.

We don't know what these flags are for, other than whipping around violently in the wind and looking very spooky and pirate-y. On those counts, mission accomplished!

Despite all our tramping around, we never worked enough appetite for dinner, so we had a nice cream tea instead (big, hot homemade scones with strawberry jam and clotted cream and mugs of boiling hot tea), then walked along the promenade to St Leonards, the next town along the coast. I counted nine charity shops on one street, but it was late in the day, so we just called it a day and caught the next train home, where we still weren't hungry for dinner but did sleep very, very well indeed.