'Tis the Season

...for loads of DVDs to start piling up in our postbox! Since Astrid was born, we don't get to the cinema much anymore (like, actually never) and last year was pretty chaotic so we didn't actually get around to watching very many of Matthew's BAFTA screeners, but this year we're really trying to get stuck in. Sadly, we've only seen one film so far, but it was a really good one: The Guard. (Okay - it's really good if you liked In Bruges, which was directed by this guy's brother, and you don't mind a lot of swearing, good-natured racism, prostitutes and casual violence. So, not your cup of tea, Mom!)

So we're trying to be conscientious BAFTA members but this year's film-makers aren't making it easy. A lot of the films they're sending are challenging, to say the least. This is the batch they sent yesterday, along with my thumbnail reviews. My analysis is based, as usual, on a mish-mash of things I've heard on the radio, headlines of reviews I haven't read in full, and posters I've seen on the Tube, usually as my train is speeding past the platform.

The Deep Blue Sea - based on a Terrence Rattigan play and starring Rachel Weisz as the ruined woman. Looks dreary, though I'm sure the art direction is very good and she looks amazing in period costume.

Melancholia - Lars van Trier. Ugh. Kirsten Dunst. Double ugh. About the actual destruction of the world, unlikely to be a real upper.

We Need to Talk about Kevin - School shooting and associated parental guilt. Although every review I've read quotes the hilarious line, "Mummy used to be happy. Now Mummy wakes up every day and wishes she were in France," I can't imagine this will actually be very funny.

Wuthering Heights - Andrea Arnold's gritty, realist interpretation of an overwrought Romantic novel - now with added race issues! Apparently, her tactic of using non-actors is not as successful here as in her earlier film Fish Tank (which really was very good).

Archipelago - according to the Guardian, this film is "subtle, mysterious, murky and utterly distinctive". Note that the word "entertaining" is not used (though the Telegraph does say it is "hilariously uncomfortable". Okay).

Fire in Babylon - a doco about West Indies cricket in the 1970s/80s. Might actually be fun to watch.

Knuckle - a doco about bare-knuckle boxing in the Traveller (Gypsy) community. Likely not as much fun to watch. The Guardian calls is a black comedy without the comedy - ouch!

Sleeping Beauty - weird, Australian psycho-sexual drama, rumoured to be quite arty. Bleurgh.

Snowtown - an "often unwatchable" Australian serial killer movie about "a twisted family and a blighted community", a "social-realist horror show". But based on a true story! Good times!

All I can say is bring on Arthur Christmas, Tin Tin and The Muppets.

Our basement is in total disarray - as in, there are no walls left. Our very nice builder Paul (I'm not just saying that to butter him up; he is genuinely very nice!) spent all day yesterday hacking off the plaster to reveal some very iffy looking brick walls underneath. He's coming back tomorrow to plaster and then on Sunday to finish it up. So. Very. Excited.

Of course, the basement/bedroom won't be finished on Sunday. There are still the stairs to do. And the floor. And the cupboards. And the painting. Only then can the decorating start, though I've already got ideas. Actually just the one idea, since it's a very small space and so it has to stay really simple to keep from being too junky. So far all I've planned is making a curtain for the little window - a single panel of unbleached linen with a light lining. Woo-hoo, huh?

Since I'm putting my brick-and-mortar decorating on hold for the moment, I've been finding alternative outlets for ornamentation, like these lovely wallpapers:

Frankie magazine - an Australian fashion/lifestyle mag with a wispy, ethereal, retro kind of aesthetic. I'm currently rocking the embroidered kitten on my laptop.

Fossil - very retro, sporty/nautical, sort of Team Zissou vibe.

V&A Shop - and just one more reason for Facebookers to "like" the V&A shop - lovely vintage fabric wallpapers.

The Graphics Fairy - Not wallpaper, but another place to find pretty things for your computer. Who wouldn't love an old timey engraving of, say, a long-tailed field mouse?

Springtime

We have so much stuff going on at the moment and in the immediate future, including some actual "work" on the house coming up very soon. In fact, I'm supposed to be clearing out the basement at this very moment - so, of course, I finally feel moved to write a blog post. Funny, huh? I don't actually mind clearing the basement; I have already made very good progress and boxing things up is a lot like playing with my fabric and craft supplies. But blog posts take place upstairs, which means that I can be a) playing on the internet, b) eating chips and salsa, and c) watching Ace of Cakes, all at the same time. Multi-tasking is fun!

I am very excited about impending home improvements. We've been doing bits and pieces in the garden and it's really gratifying to see the change - there's a very good "effect to effort" ratio. I spent £20 at the garden centre up the road and a month later everything is still alive and flowering. Nice! And it's been agreed with the other freeholders to paint the front of the house! I am so happy about this, because lots of other houses along the street are freshly painted while ours...has a plant growing out of the 2nd floor window ledge. I think the new paint will smarten things up, so that the exterior gives a better indication of the cuteness inside.

The biggest project (from our point of view, since painting the house is obviously a pretty big undertaking but not one in which we will have any direct involvement) is getting our basement sorted out. It's damp, so a very nice man named Paul is going to chip off all the plaster, treat the walls with a liquid PVA and then re-plaster with a mixture which includes another damp-proofing agent. Then everything will be painted bright white. Sometime after that, we're going to put down a new floor, possibly a laminate as it turns out that the rubber flooring I wanted is not only difficult to keep clean but also really expensive. Then we're having the stairs re-done - at the moment they're just open steps with no risers - and having cupboards built in underneath. When all that's done, we're going to move our bedroom down there and turn the upstairs bedroom into an actual nursery. Granted, it will be a nursery with a futon in it. I would have hoped that by the age of, well, nearly 40, I'd be living a futon-free life, but sometimes things don't work out the way you imagine. And it'll be somewhere to sleep when we have guests and the rest of the time, a nice place to read stories.

But enough of my unrealised furniture-related ambitions. In addition to the home improvements, we're also just generally busy. I've gone back to work two days a week, while Matthew stays home with Astrid. She is getting very active and very sociable, so we have activities almost every day, which she really likes and which I am finding exhausting. She is growing, hitting lots of developmental milestones, and eats well - I never imagine I would peel and chop so many apples and pears. I don't really mind, though.

Girard Strikes Again

The poster on Craftzine writing about these wooden dolls by Mark Giglio thinks they look Scandi-Japanese, which they do, but I think they're more than a little reminiscent of my beloved Alexander Girard dolls:

While the Girard dolls are essentially two dimensional, Giglio's figures are turned on a lathe and so have very solid geometric forms. They are hand-painted, which makes a nice sort of contrast to their very precise shapes.

Giglio says his next project is quilting - which makes me instantly start daydreaming about awesome Girard-inspired quilt designs. Note that I say "designs" rather than "actual, completed quilts", since it is an awful lot easier to measure, draw and colour in designs in my graph-paper notebook than to actually do any sewing.

Local Colour

Well, in the end we had an eventful, joyous and tragic 2010. Astrid was born, but we also lost a close family member suddenly and shockingly just a few months later and our family seems so much smaller without him. There has been a lot to think about and try to process, so I don't have anything particularly pithy to write about the end of the old year and the beginning of the new one. But here are some things I've seen (fairly) recently:

We walk past the Gaff every time we go to the grocery store. It used to be a heavy metal pub. Back then, I'd always see anemic-looking mulletheads hanging around outside wearing t-shirts that read "Evil Death" or "Kill Me". They weren't scary; I felt sort of sorry for them. Then it had a revamp and emerged with a punk/rockabilly vibe. We haven't been, because Astrid never lets us do anything fun, but as you can see, they have lots of interesting sounding bands. Matthew had his birthday party there last year and was going to have it there again this year, but as of Sunday, it was closed and is being converted to a Costa Coffee. Boo hiss, indeed. I love the idea of naming a band UK Vomit - it's so simple yet so aggressive, and informative. Is that the band Vomit from Germany? No sir, this is the UK Vomit.

In October, I went with my book group on a tour of Highgate Cemetery. I'd been to the western side before, as Matthew took me there on our first date. (I asked him about this once. He said he thought I'd be impressed to see Karl Marx's grave. When I asked why, he said, "I don't know - but it worked, didn't it?") This time we toured the East Cemetery, which is beautiful but actually quite spooky. This is the Rossetti family grave. D.G. isn't there - he's buried in Kent, for some reason - but Lizzie Siddal and Christina Rossetti are. It kills me that Christina Rossetti, who was a very gifted poet, is almost literally a footnote on her own grave.

And this is something I saw the other day walking home from the shops. The sunset turned the con trail the same brilliant pink as the other, wispier clouds and it was just so very pretty. It just goes to show that, while it's important to watch where you're going (to avoid dog poo if nothing else), it pays to look up now and then.

Ad Astrid Per Aspera

As I think many expectant parents do, I had a lot of ideas about how things would be with my baby, the birth, the blissful first few days and weeks at home, my speedy recovery and all the fun outings we'd go on. I did a lot of nesting in the run up to my due date, decorating the nursery corner of our room, as seen below:

We put up two picture ledges and I arranged and re-arranged the pictures on them. I hung up little dresses (including the two I made) and put all the neatly folded receiving blankets underneath. I arranged her toys and books on her little white shelf. I bought a kit and started trying to teach myself to knit from a pamphlet.

Then the due date came. And went. And then two more weeks went by with no sign of baby. The natural water birth at the birthing centre was abandoned for an induced birth in the labour ward. Then that turned into a forceps delivery in an operating theatre. But in the end, we got our baby. I also got stitches in a tender area, but that's not the point.

The point is that Astrid is here. She is lovely and sweet and very pretty and somehow contains all the love, hope, passion, faith, integrity and goodness that can be found in me, in Matthew, and in our families going back into the mists of time. She contains all these things and yet somehow magnifies them back to us. She is small and pink. Her mouth is a perfect rosebud and her head smells like heaven. She is a flower and a star and I love her very much.

Nesting

I've heard a lot about the nesting instinct and, from my own experience, I'd say it's real. In our case, it's taken the form of actual baby preparations like acquiring all the equipment (crib, pushchair, bouncer, carrier, etc), clothes, packing the hospital bag, etc, but also making some home improvements. It's sort of like how having a party can be the impetus for a good house cleaning and, I find sometimes, doing little decorating jobs you haven't got around to, but much more intensive. We have a new front garden gate, which is very similar to the old one but is better because it has a latch, swings open and closed, and isn't made of disintegrating rotten wood that breaks off whenever you touch it. Matthew and his friend Steve painted the shed, which was flaking pretty badly and looked grey, even though closer inspection showed that it was actually painted green. It's now a beautiful sage green that looks so pretty and fresh amid all the plants that I think we're going to have to start calling it the summer house - it just looks too good to be a shed!

Inside, we've rearranged and redecorated the bedroom, which used to be turquoise with red accents. Now it's a colour called "Whisper of Dramatic" - which you can be forgiven for not guessing is actually pale grey with a touch of lavender. Very calm and pretty. To go with the new walls, we've also got new bedding. This set is from Designer's Guild:

(That's not our bedroom - it's the photo from the packaging. Our front garden is looking good, but not that leafy and green.)

Then I went to Ikea the other day to get meatballs and a bedside table. I completely forgot the meatballs, but came back with two new sets of bedding. The first is sort of a Swedish toile and is so light and soft it's like sleeping on a cloud:
The second is a bit more colourful, but still manages to be restful enough to sleep on. Also very soft and luxurious:

We got rid of (i.e. donated to the charity shop down the road, who are probably getting tired of seeing us at this point in our nesting mania) all our other mis-matched or unloved bedding besides these new ones and a paisley duvet set from Monsoon Home. We also got a little chest that sits at the foot of the bed for storing the bedding. Every set has the right number of matching pillow cases and sheets - it's so grown up!

Spree vs Steal: Baby Edition

One of the websites I've been compusively surfing, alongside BabyCenter.com and BabyCentre.co.uk (and yes, there is just enough difference to justify bookmarking both), is online boutique Smallable which features almost unutterably beautiful thing. It arouses the same sort of feelings I get about Graham & Green catalogues, i.e., that I'd like to live in that world. Sadly, the Smallable universe is apparently only for small, French-speaking people, but oh, the outfits. So tiny, so lovely. Please see below:

And so, so expensive. Like, the above outfit (not counting the shoes) costs £124. 27. So I concocted this alternative version:

It isn't exactly the same. My blouse has little flutter sleeves rather than long sleeves like the original and obviously the trousers are different (though I do have a cute pair of grey trousers, in case we decide to go that way). The "inspiration" cardigan seems to be sweatshirt material, while mine is soft cotton knit. Mine was also originally white, but I spent most of an evening dyeing it grey and am very happy with the results. I'm actually really happy with the entire outfit.

Of course, I feel particularly smug about the cost: blouse and trouser set, £5; cardigan, £4; dye, £3.75. That totals £12.75, or roughly 1/10th of the original outfit. Oh, yes, I am very clever.

Food that Tastes and Looks Good, too

Being a pregnant lady for the past nine months or so, I've had to deal with lots of food that I can't eat (sushi, pate, stinky cheese), but also some food that I should eat. I've tried to keep my caffeine intake as low as possible for years now, so drinking decaf tea and coffee isn't a big deal for me - I try to "save" my caffeine allowance for Cokes and chocolate. And while oily fish is a very big deal as a source of Omega-3 (which is pronounced "omeega" here) fatty acids, I'm supposed to stay away from larger oily fish like shark and swordfish and limit salmon and tuna because of mercury. Little fish, like sardines, are okay.

So, at some point a while back, when Matthew was working an overnight shift, I asked him to pick up some decaf tea and sardines when he went to the supermarket for his dinner (I've been very bad about cooking practically the whole pregnancy). This is what I found on the counter when I got up in the morning:

I found it very sweet and also quite visually arresting. I'm always really impressed when Matthew does stuff like this, arranging something in a pretty pattern, and I'm not sure why - he's not a Neanderthal and he quite likes music and art, etc. But this was super-cute and made me start thinking about food packaging and how it makes something that tastes good just a little bit nicer when it comes in a pretty package.

Porridge is my staple winter breakfast, made with skim milk and with a couple of squares of chocolate or a squirt of honey. Probably the best thing ever was a bowl of porridge with an egg cracked in it. That sounds disgusting until you know that it was a Cadbury's Creme Egg.

I generally like canned fish, but it turns out that I don't love pilchards. But the can sure looks nice, doesn't it? Note, though, that they are high in Omega 3.
This is the coconut milk I use in my curry recipe, which comes from the grocery shop across the road. You'd think things would be more expensive in what is essentially a convenience store, but this costs about half what coconut milk costs at the big store up the road. Plus, the three different languages on the label makes me think it's somehow more authentic. I made a curry yesterday and, while I can't vouch for the quality before it was improved, I can say that it's quite good now.

And this isn't yummy food that comes in a pretty wrapper, but it is quite yummy. It's the jam that I made from figs that I picked in our back garden last year. The figs themselves aren't particularly delicious - Rocco tells me that the climate in England is no good for figs, but he says that about everything except spinach - but I found that boiling them for ages with an enormous amount of sugar really improved their flavour.

Good Work News, New Book, and a New Design Crush

I've had some exciting developments at work lately. It seems that someone finally remembered that I'd done a planning degree and I'm suddenly assisting with preparation for three projects that are going to planning appeal. I'm helping the project architects draft their proofs of evidence, the legal documents they submit to the Planning Inspector, like a written version of their testimony. I've been to three meetings this week! And we got sandwiches at one of them! I felt so grown up which is quite nice, though it was a hassle trying to dress like a grown up three days in a row. I'm at a stage where I don't have that many wardrobe options...

Anyway, I'm still finishing up my interiors project and am still looking at lots of pictures of pretty, unfeasibly expensive things. I'm pretty crazy about these gorgeous cushions designed by Alexander Caldwell, who also did those wacky wooden dolls.

I am particularly taken with the moon cushion on the lower right. I think it's begging for a reinterpretation, maybe as a reverse applique. And it turns out I'm not the only person producing "homages" to Mr Girard. These crocheted dolls, inspired by Girard's wooden ones, were made by Sian Keegan. Pretty neat, huh?

I've been running into references to this book for a while now and finally decided I needed a copy for myself. Unfortunately, it is out of print and when I first looked it up on Amazon, the lazy booklover's first stop on a quest, a copy cost almost £200. So I forgot about it for a while and then next time I checked, there was a copy for £30. And that copy, once the property of Dunstable College's College of Further Education Library, is now on my coffee table. It's pretty great; the textiles especially are amazing, all geometric and organic at the same time.

Also in the course of my research, I ran across this photo of Eero Saarinen curled up in his Womb chair. Isn't he adorable?

I must say, Saarinen is definitely my new favourite 20th century architect. To be honest, I didn't have a designated favourite 20th century architect before; the post was created with him in mind. But he is great. He designed an amazing array of buildings and furniture, not to mention the St Louis Arch, which I have never seen in person but Matthew has and he assures me it is very, very tall.

In other, more baby-related news, everything is still going well. Apparently, my payback for having not had any morning sickness is that my feet and legs are still (and increasingly) swollen. I've only got two pairs of shoes that fit - and one of those only intermittently. Like I said, not many options. The only advice I've gotten from my GP and midwife is to keep my feet elevated as much as possible, which is why I'm writing this from the sofa, on my brand new laptop. It's taking me a while to get used to the little mousepad thingy, but I do love it. (And, actually, the GP told me today that I should start wearing flight socks - sexy!)

Current Obsessions

...which obviously do not include keeping blogs up to date, am I right?!?

Actually, I've had a lot on lately, mostly in the form of this little person, who spends most of his/her time kicking my bladder and, somehow, causing my ankles to swell to elephantine proportions. This photo is from before Christmas; we have another scan next Monday, when we're supposed to find out the sex. I'm quite excited about that, not least because it should help us decide on a name. I've been interested in baby names since at the age of 12 and have always had favourites picked out - fortunately these have changed over the years, or we'd be preparing for the arrival of little Shade or Summer or Panda or Arlo. (Yes, I realise some of those are words, not actual names.)

The problem is that when it comes to naming an actual child, I've choked. I mean, it's got to be perfect, right? We're looking for something that is unusual, creative and interesting, without being outlandish or invented. It should also be something that we both like. And I've got to take into consideration naming trends in the US and the UK. We also have to consider the class connotations that come loaded into almost every activity in England so that we don't end up with a name that's too "chavvy" or too "poncey". I thought we were on the right track until the other day when - shock horror! - I found our one and only boy's name on a list of wannabe hipster names on a website I like and trust. But all that aside, we're doing pretty well and are looking forward to meeting the little stranger, whatever we end up calling it.

At work lately I've been doing research on and writing biographical blurbs about famous designers, mostly of furniture, lighting and other interiors products. It's been really interesting and has given me lots of opportunity to get lost in pretty pictures. Last week, I got really into Ray Eames's fabric designs. We've bought a rocking chair with black cushions for nursing the baby and I thought this would look gorgeous in it:

And it really would look great. However, it is the tiniest bit out of my price range - the cushion costs about 150 euros and I haven't been able to find the fabric for less than $112 a yard. I'm now thinking that I will produce my own "homage" by embroidering a similar design in white on black linen. I've recently done some sewing for work (embroidering and making up some linen cushions for a hotel room mock-up) and got very excited about working with linen, especially since I found a place that sells it very cheaply.

Another thing I've stumbled upon is this series of wooden dolls by Alexander Girard. He was heavily influenced by folk art from around the world, especially Mexico, and his collection formed the basis for the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Apparently he made these for his own home, just because he wanted to and thought they'd be nice to look at. That's why I do a lot of the things I do, much to Matthew's consternation, I fear, so I think that's nice. However, it does not really justify them being "re-issued" by a high-end furniture manufacturer and being sold for about £80 each, simply as decorative items.

That said (in a disapproving tone), I am really intrigued by these little guys. I imagine that making some would be quite satisfying and I'm already thinking about how to do it. They're mostly flat shapes cut out of wood; a person could probably reasonably approximate the shape with a jigsaw. I don't have a jigsaw, so now I'm wondering about painting a set of Russian nesting dolls in imitation. Or, rather, homage.

But one thing about which I am unreservedly excited is the quilt exhibition that's opening at the V&A in March. The V&A has probably the greatest museum shop in the world anyway and they always have themed items to go with their special exhibitions. In this case, they are reproducing textile prints from quilts dating from the 18th and 19th centuries and selling them in fat quarters, by the metre and cut to measure. And they're not insanely expensive - only £11.50 per metre.

Now I just have to wait until next week to find out if I'm going to be making a precious little dress for Yoyo (the working title for our sprog) or if I'll be crafting a lovely present for my niece. Either way, my sewing fingers are itching...

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!