the vegetable enigma

It was a custard apple. And very tasty it was too. This week, nothing unrecognizeable...well, okay, I wouldn't have known it was kale but the bag was labelled. What do I do with kale? Anyway, I'll figure it out. Everything goes in soup!

We leave for Canada in less than a week - 5 days actually. It's working out well as two friends have now volunteered to stay and watch lovely Logan and little Laila. I hope the weather is Christmas-y. Here - it's not so much. Last night tho, just to force in some cheer, Nas, I, and some friends went down to the German Kristkringlemarkt in the city and had some food and beer - deliciously meaty! I should've taken a photo - now there is no evidence of the staggering amount of meat we ate...

my favourite vegetables

Last Thursday, in our fruit box, we got a pineapple and a mango. Pretty sweet. With our lovely friend Susan, (and she really is one of those rare people who is truly 'lovely'), we've been splitting organic fruit and veg boxes. It's really fantastic - every week thus far we've gotten a mystery fruit or veg: one turned out to be a kohlrabi (quite tasty in our veg biryani). The mystery fruit (Susan keeps passing them off - her turn next time!) remains an enigma of the fruit world. It was really tasty but I've no idea what it was... Kinda pineapple like in consistency, but softer and less stringy; sweetness like a guava (but without the gritty texture); shaped kinda like a fat mango. It had very hard pips throughout and the skin looked like a kid had made it out of moddelling clay with her thumbs to make a pattern.

We started on this cause we realised that the green-grocers on our corner was actually a trap...it's like having a huge extension on the kitchen. And we were going every day for something or other. So now, we split a huge box of fruit and a regular box of veg and we're all happy chappies.

It's from Goosemoor organics - a farm near Weatherby. They don't taste quite as nice as our own allotment veggies...but our allotment has a way to go before it can sustain us year round.

PAID

Pay-day at last! And after all that, it doesn't really seem worth the wait. Of course, since pay-day is the last of the month and rent-day the very next day, I don't even get to look at the shiny shiny numbers in my account before they're gone.

It's definitely one of those days. Luckily I have The Brother From Another Planet to look forward to when I finish and go home. We've just discovered the uni library's audio-visual collection. Fun and free!

oh yes - I nearly forgot: about a month ago, we filled out a questionaire about energy consumption; we got the results yesterday. Their advice? A very helpful 'insulate outer walls'. Great. Thanks. I wonder how our agency would feel if we tried doing that ourselves. Perhaps we should invest in some tapestries?

Me meets the mould monster

Everything we own is in danger of being eaten by mould.

I love our house - mostly I love the power-shower and the gas hob in the kitchen. There's no storage space, it's a bit small, there's no garden. But then, it's mostly quiet, there's a green-grocers and a fantastic Halal butchers just round the corner, and it's a 10-minute walk to campus and 20 to the city centre. And we haven't moved in three years...!

But it is damp and mouldy. I did once have a very nice man who'd been called round to check out the mould problem explain that it was simply because the temperature outside was so much colder than the temp inside - case closed - that was just the way it was - how quaint... Thing is, I grew up in Canada where the temp outside was MUCH MUCH colder than the temp inside and, while Jack Frost drew lovely pictures every morning on every window, we never had condensation and black mould up and down the walls. I can understand it in a bathroom - as a student, I'm familiar with the mouldy bathroom issue. But everywhere?

So we keep the heat steady, we don't hang clothes to dry, we open the bathroom window after showering (all of which, by the way, on the advice of our letting agency who, despite being geared towards students, don't seem to have any understanding of the skyrocketing cost of electricity and gas) and still, without fail, every year this time, the mould returns like some freakish weather-based demon.

But when I find my pair of trusty black-stretch-boot-cut trousers covered in mould...what's am i to do?

Suggestions? Send 'em on.

dear santa...

One week left in November 2006 - is it trite to say something like 'where does the time go'?

Our friend has returned to Leeds with the winter - she'd laugh if she heard that since a big part of leaving Leeds was escaping the winter! At any rate, it's great to be welcoming someone home rather than sending them off.

I still haven't figured out what I'd like for Christmas. I cringe at the price of books - especially when I'm a member of one of the best research libraries in the UK - I don't like technology; I have a mobile. I suppose I could use new trainers for the gym as I've been using my squash shoes...but then, I've been using my squash shoes and they've worked so far! Stuff for my garden? I don't think I can carry seeds into Britain from Canada. Kitchen gadgets? The only kind of technology I like! but then, anything quality is heavy (a very dear friend once carried a pasta machine to ours from Canada - very very dear!). Besides, our kitchen is the size of a closet and pretty much full. Clothes? How dull. Jewellry? I don't really wear much and I'm not much of an accessories person. Shoes? YES but kind of a strange thing to ask for - I'm not sure why, but people don't tend to buy shoes as gifts...

Am I one of those people? One of those impossible-to-buy-for people? I don't think so. It's just that I usually feel like my family knows me better than I know myself - that and they are all those people: you know, the can-find-perfect-gift-for-anyone-anytime people.

For me, I prefer thinking of all the lovely things to do at home:

* watch telly with Grandma and Papa - they've always had the most comfortable floors - great soft carpetting.
* practice Gran's recipes (with her expert supervision) - she doesn't write anything down so every year I try and learn how to make those things I've taken for granted.
* have breakfast with mum and dad in the kitchen - with CBC on the radio and The Globe and Mail on the table
* chat with mum in the kitchen - I don't know why, but we always have the best chats in the kitchen while making food.
* dinner-discussions with dad! And game-night...we'll have to think of a new one for this year (last year was Cranium year...)
* go to Vietnamese place with aunt and uncle - my dad's sister is probably the greatest aunt ever and they know the owners of the best Vietnamese place...
* go out with sibs et al. - my sibs don't get nearly enough coverage on this blog
* meet Nina - this is really part of the last item...

'See everyone from home' is just too big...but I really hope we get to see some friends that we missed last year, and our newly-wed friends in T.O.

But to do all of that, I need to:

* finish chapter
* finish teaching
* pack
* pick up Christmas puds from Harvey Nicks
* get train tickets to London

Huh. What's the day again?

Oh yeah...just to tease...I've got the special-est gift ever for the bro this year...!

Cinema thots

I forgot to mention - we saw The Prestige on Friday night. Has anyone seen it? I'm not sure what to think of it. I want to like it but parts of it were really terrible (David Bowie as Nikola Tesla - but with simply dreadful Russian accent; Christian Bale's fairly awful cockney accent; Scarlett Johanssen's almost-there English accent) but there were some really interesting themes. Alas, typically, the ending was far too heavy-handed - for a film about magic and showmanship, it displayed a total lack of subtlety.

I've discovered that it is a book - I thought all the way thru that it would make, in the right hands, a brilliant truly Gothic story - so I'll have to read it. There is one significant deviation from Priest's novel - one that involves the surprising effect of Tesla's machine. But I think the more interesting story is Borden...anyway... I don't want to ruin it for anyone who wants to see it - though it might be worth waiting for the DVD release.

Slip-time

Wow - I can't believe that it's past the middle of November...

In the last two weeks:

* I got my residence permit to live in the UK for 2 years - then I have to apply to stay indefinitely (with, undoubtedly, another goodwill gift of at least £300).
* the University of York has not only paid Nasser's remaining fees, but also paid for his final writing-up year.
* I've been working full-time (well, training full-time) at the Local Studies library in the city
* Nasser's best friend has been over from Spain
* I finally got cover for my last December shift at the university which means I don't have to call from Canada and pretend I'm sick
* The German Christmas market has come to the city again!

Local Studies is a facinating place to work - maybe it's cause I'm not from this city (or country!) so it's all new to me. We have maps from the 16th century of the area - I learned that round the corner from my house used to be a brewery - and that it's called 'Burley Lodge' because there once was a lodge with grounds right where we live. The library has the censuses from 1843 thru to 1901 and parish records for most area churches (including non-conformist) from the 16th century when churches were obliged to keep records.

Last week, I started to help out on some of the continuing projects - Local Studies doesn't exactly have a huge budget and most of the information is in dusty, crumbling old books or on microfilm. So (and this is still slightly behind the times!) we're digitizing our own collection onto MS databases. For the last week, I transcribed graveyard records from microfilm to paper. It was fascinating. Old records (this one was for the area of the city right over the valley from us) list occupation, age, place of death, parish... wonderfully suggestive stuff. As I wrote, I couldn't help but picture these people (I just made it up to records from about June 1939 on Friday afternoon) dying. It's a small thing - a name: so incredibly evocative and yet so empty on its own.

All I had was a name not spoken in 50 years, an occupation ('labourer' was the most common for men), an age, and where they died. And it represents a whole lifetime - and more curiously, it represents a perfectly unique, individual lifetime. Names can be repeated - I recorded a John Smith or Thomas at least 2ce an hour - but a name plus a death-date plus where they died: that's irreducibly one person's experience. That these people had been largely forgotten in most cases is true - but I enjoyed it, selfishly, as a reminder of the materiality of the past: that these were people who were as I am, who died in a place as I will, and were recorded by details that stripped them of their substance but preserved their uniqueness as I might be.

And I buried them again - and perhaps more surely this time: anyone can open a book and find a name (even by accident), now they are so much binary code.

But enough - Mondays are no day for sustained philosophical digressions!

Nas's best mate was up on the weekend from Spain which was lovely - even the weather thought as much and we've had two almost perfect very-late-fall days of sunshine and crisp air. We went up to York yesterday to one of my favourite pubs for a Sunday lunch - and went to the Fudge Kitchen... I did splash out a bit but it's in my freezer waiting to accompany after-dinner-drinks over Christmas. And one piece is set aside for my friend who has a new baby and needs lots of energy (and really good chocolate...). A couple of Christmas puds from Harvey Nick's and we're set for foodstuffs to take to Canada...

Tonight is the first Christmas do of the season - at the School of English. It feels a bit early - but then, we're off for Canada in three weeks...yikes!

Pax Felix

I think we have a truce...at least, we're pretty sure they aren't constantly trying to kill each other...

another Friday

I just lost an entire post...very frustrating. Anyway, my eyes are blurring and my head hurts and I blame G.J.Barker-Benfield and The Culture of Sensibility. I've been reading it all afternoon, trying to decide how to define 'Sentiment' and 'Sensibility' in my dissertation. Fun times. Met my supervisor this morning - lovely as usual - and now know the likely panel for my viva this time next year. Slightly scary - but kind of exciting too. It's nice to know this has a definite end in the not-so-distant future.

Yesterday I bit back my pride, withdrew money from our Canadian credit line, and paid for those things that must be paid for: university fees (I was half-hoping that they'd accidentally give me my scholarship again this year...alas...), new gym membership, new underwear...(new convert to Bravissimo right here). Briefly entered fug of 'why-am-I-still-broke-and-a-student?' but snapped out of it by the time I got home (it was pitch out and only 4.30!). So now I'm officially a student again, officially a gym member, and I have underwears without holes, sticky-out wires, etc etc etc.

For the record, my seminar classes did not like Dryden. I must find a new angle on it to get them into it a little more next year. They did thank me for the annotations that I handed out, which was nice. It's a tough piece - doubly so for students without much knowledge of either the Bible or Restoration history. Curious? It was Absalom and Achitophel, A Poem.

Happy Hallowe'en!

I've never actually lived in a house with a front door that kids would knock on at Hallowe'en - even in Canada. All the places in Kingston and Windsor were apartments - and Brits just don't celebrate Hallowe'en. Thankfully really. It's getting a bit carried away in the homeland as I recall. Anyway, there's likely some good scary movies on tonight...but I'm going to bed early and keeping the night-light on instead (see previous entry...).

This week has begun badly. Last night, already exhausted from the night of no-sleep on Sunday, I had an asthma attack. I should explain something: I have allergy-related asthma and fall is a bad time of year as I'm allergic to damp and mold. My asthma attacks aren't life-threatening, just very very frustrating as they tend to come on before bed and keep me up cause I can't lay down without coughing. Anyway, since my lovely GP at the student practice here figured out that it was asthma and gave me some handy inhalers (geek-chic! I'm in!), it's all been sorted. In fact, I haven't needed my trusty inhaler for over a month...

And because of that, I didn't realise that both inhalers were empty until the weekend. But the only appointment I could get at student practice was yesterday and it wasn't until after the chemists were closed...you see where this is going?

Asthma attack. No inhalers. Poetic justice of some kind.

And to top it all off, data somewhere has been filed incorrectly and Nasser didn't get paid this month. Oh yeah. November...bring it on.

But on the plus side, I did get paid. Which means we can afford rent and bills this month at least! And I finished annotating Dryden's Absalom and Achitophel for my Civil War and Resoration Literature class on Thursday. Now they have absolutely no excuse for not getting it. The hardest thing this year as been trying to teach 17th century literature to students who are without even a passing knowledge of the Bible. For them, an apple is always just an apple.

And the cats have been lovely and cosy today. And it is Hallowe'en. My favourite Hallowe'en was when I went as a pumpkin. My mom made the costume and it was amazing. Her pet name for us all is 'pun'kin' so maybe that's why it's my favourite (thankfully, that was long before digital cameras so I think I'm free from fear of mum ever posting those photos - I loved the costume but I'm pretty sure it wasn't flattering!).

Things that go bump in the night

I was pretty sure that at some point I'd stop being afraid of horror movies. I mean, I study horror-literature, I love monsters, zombies, vampires, the uncanny, the history of horror, the psychology of fear, and so on. But the tragedy of my life (okay, that was slightly hyperbolic) is - I can't watch horror films. I can read about them - oh yes, I have several important looking scholarly books on the subject; I can enthuse about them at length, analyze, dissect, discuss... but I simply cannot watch them.

By 'horror' movie I mean anything remotely visually frightening. That includes, for example, certain episodes of The X-Files and The Twilight Zone, and general mainstream horror movies. But in all honesty has also included Kill Bill (I&II), Sin City, Interview with a Vampire, and (many years ago - possibly the catalyst for all this) the Ewoks movie. The worst one was Seven; I was up nights for about two weeks and didn't like being alone in the house so spent a lot of time at my friend's bar in Kingston while Nas was at work at nights.

But there are exceptions that always tease me with the possibility that I might be getting over it. I've never had a problem with The Shining; I thought The Blair Witch Project was boring; I love Romero zombie flicks and Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead series (even the first one, which Nas assures me was actually meant to be scary). I'm generally better with psychological thrillers and I can usually sit through a Hitchcock film without any consequences. For some strange reason I can also manage OTT slasher flicks. But not Saw. So I just can't narrow down what exactly scares me.

I mention this because last night, before my new favourite Torchwood (a Doctor Who spinoff) came on, Channel Five had 'The Scariest Movies of All Time On'. And I watched it. And Nasser warned me that maybe I shouldn't. But I did. I don't know if it was The Fly or the meat-hook scene in (the original - of course! I'm still a snob about these things!) Texas Chainsaw Masacre that kept me up. Possibly the finale of Rosemary's Baby (tho the commentators they had for that clip completely missed the mark - even the guy from the Church of Satan) got to me at 2am or maybe, this time, I couldn't handle the pasty-faced Avon rejects that are Raimi's zombies.

Anyway, long story short, I couldn't sleep. And I kept Nasser up. And now I'm cranky even though it is a lovely day outside and I handed in a draft of a chapter last week and don't have to see my supervisor until Friday. And I get paid this week (finally!).

On a lighter note, yesterday we went on a marathon walk around Leeds. We left at 11am and didn't get home until 5.30. The clocks went back yesterday morning so it is definitely fall now and dark by 5pm, alas. But our house is cosy and warm and full of kittens.

...and thanks for waiting.

I absolutely hate dealing with our phone/telly/internet company. Our telly signal has been out for the last week. Last night, Nasser waited on the phone (which is of course, a 0845-number) for ages only to be told, in that horridly chipper automated voice that it would be another 15 minutes for an advisor. I am now on the phone to ask how my next bill will reflect the fact that I haven't had the service for a week. I'm not optimistic - I've dealt with British customer service before.

I don't know which is worse - the muszak or this inanely optimistic and happy automated voice that keeps interrupting with advice.

Well, have just gotten some advice. It should be back on in a couple hours. If not...call back...

Later that same day...

I've no clue whether or not my telly is back on. I kinda forgot about it and came to the library where I still am...

I am exhausted and hungry and fairly cranky as all I've had to eat since noon is a banana (it was a big banana - I just finished it), some chocolate, and some pumpkin seeds. I should've brought my oat cakes. They are my new favourite thing. Nas made much fun of me as I had to go to the fancy organic shop downtown for them (as that's where my friend G got the ones that I liked so much at a party) and then we found them for about half the price at our co-op... He's also been laughing at my insistence that I had to have puy lentils from above-mentioned shop. They ARE different from brown lentils, I swear. Anyway, I like them and they are hard to find.

Now I'm really hungry.

Nas is teaching tonight and picking me up from the library - that was supposed to make me stay and work until then. But I think I'm out of steam. Maybe I'll curl up on my window bench and read. I love my office.

Not a very interesting post unless you know us...and even then...

The days are just packed.

Monday was my sis and dad's birthdays - when I was a kid, I was always a little jealous that they shared a birthday.

Wednesday was Nasser's birthday. I hope he had a good time - I'm not very good at planning parties - particularly when I'm trying to finish a chapter at the same time. On my birthday last May, Nasser threw me the greatest party EVER. The problem is, I got so nervous worrying about matching or topping it that I couldn't think of anything. Come to think about it I'm a crap hostess cause I spend most of the time at my parties worrying about being a good hostess. I need to relax.

Thursday was my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary. They were married 19 October 1946. Amazing: they have been married for twice as long as I've been alive. When I was really little I asked grandma if it was okay with her that I marry papa when I grew up. Obviously, even at the age of 4 (?) I had discerning taste.

And yesterday, we found out that my sister is now, in her words, the proud teacher of a grade four class! Mum and dad must be so relieved that one of us is finally employed...

my birthday

today i turn old.

i wear the bottoms of my

trousers rolled only because i am
short.

i won't tell more

you should be writing me poems,
today.

Grinsomnia (a poem for pedagogues)

gotta grit my teeth before words before
these shores of no speaka da eengleesh,
silences worthy of gangsters in movies,
you see you know like what i mean-
or so it seems from these
eighteen eighteenagers
and their masteries of love, god, the
intricacies of euthanasia and sledgehammer suicides
in outlandish clothes and an utter lack of
past the ends of their noses,

all the while slipping in

tongues.

Friday the 13th

It's Friday the 13th. If it was summer and I were back at home, I might be in Port Dover at one of the biggest motorcycle rallies in North America. I wonder if there were some hardy cyclists out in Dover for this one?

I forgot to report back on The History Boys (which I think is now in theatres) last weekend - and I forgot that it was Thanksgiving at home. On the play first: I really enjoyed it. It is very British and I'm not sure how well it would translate across the pond to be honest. The ending is highly problematic, in many ways, as is Bennett's treatment of women throughout. It feels very rushed and slightly tacked-on. There are I suppose, two endings really: one for the main plot and one that ties up the several sub-plots at once. Neither are particularly good and both feel like cop-outs on Bennett's part. I'll leave it there in case anyone wants to see it - or read the script.

Thanksgiving dinner ex-pat-styles was delicious. And entirely vegetarian. And there was pie left over when I got there. By his own admission, Nasser did not win the pie-off...his pastry was a bit rushed and not quite done on the bottom. I liked his best though cause the pumpkin bit was perfect. And I am thankful for too many things to list but mostly friends and family, near and far (mostly far right now but Christmas is coming!).

Laila is doing really very well - she's up and playing with a ball of wool now and loves being cuddled. Her eyes have cleared up but the spot on her right eye hasn't faded. She might have lost some vision there but it doesn't seem to bother her. Logan is showing off whenever he sees her, generally affecting to take no notice but watching her intently when he thinks no one is looking. Laila is still Queen of the Loo though and very shy about coming out into the hallway. I guess she's only been here for a week - the better part of which was spent recovering from her ordeal on the streets.

And we've booked our tickets home for Christmas! I can't believe how expensive flights are this year. But I suppose they've got us over a barrel - it's not like we've got alternative transportation available. Though we're both keen to take the boat once, just for the experience. I don't think Logan and Laila would enjoy it particularly though! And I suppose aeroplanes are massive polluters and a luxury that we shouldn't take too much for granted...(and we didn't pay for the tickets anyway...thanks grandma, papa, mum, and dad! Someday we will have real jobs and be millionaires and shower you with expensive but tasteful and environmentally sound gifts).

Shameless cute pics...

Presenting Laila Rae Monkeybutt!

She cleaned up pretty well. Logan's been really quite good about her occupying the bathroom as well. Hopefully they will get along when she's bigger and can come out and play.

Note: the toothbrush is for purposes of scale. She's that small.

Round one to Laila!

After peeing all over her bedding the last two nights, Laila has decided that the litter tray is more lady-like. She did poop behind the loo - but she pooped, twice! Getting all those worms out at least. She's purring when Nas skritches under her chin too. And she's eating like a champ. She's not out of it yet but it's looking good right now!

Library was dull but now I'm off to Bradford to see The History Boys by Alan Bennett. Hopefully there will be pie left at the Thanksgiving dinner when I arrive...

And yes, she is named after Laila Ali.

Whiskers on kittens

are normally one of my favourite things.

Which is why when Nas called me yesterday while I was in my office to say that a kitten had washed up with the rain outside our door, I rushed home.

This Kitten, however, was not a happy one. As soon as Nas put her down in the house (after rescuing her from the wheel-well of our neighbour's car - and being bitten for his efforts), she bolted behind the stove, under the cupboards, and crawled around our L-shaped cupboards to the furthest corner she could reach. The one that we couldn't get to or see no way no how. We pulled out the stove, the washing machine...thought about pulling apart the cupboard until we realised it was likely structural. Or at least built so badly that there was no way of telling which board would pull the whole thing down. So after much anxious fretting on my part and calmness on Nasser's, we put some food and water in the cupboard, shut the door cause Logan was very curious and left the kitten to find her own way out. I went swimming cause I couldn't take the waiting.

This morning, she was behind the fridge. Now she's in Logan's cat-box (permission obtained). She's a sorry little thing. We thought at first that she must be lost but now we think she's likely been left. She's calico with white feet and a white nose but dirty and a little smelly. And she has a weepy eye and a cough. But she's eating and drinking and has used Logan's litter box (no permission sought!).

Nasser has forbidden me to name her.

This afternoon she is going to the veterinarian and we are going to try and find her a home. Preferably not this home - but who can tell. Perhaps we can hold an online poll for names. In the meantime, to warm your September-chilled hearts, check out the much loved and linked-to Kittenwar.

UPDATE: Her name is Laila and she has taken over our bathroom for the right now...she's definitely a stray (I officially hate all people who don't spay or neuter their pets - may dreams filled with a scantilly clad Bob Barker haunt you eternally) and she has Feline Herpes, Cat Flu, fleas like you've never seen, and worms. She's also anemic... So £45 later, she's flea-free, on her way to being worm free, and on penicillin. She also smells much better - in panic, she pooped and peed all over the carrier on the way to the vet. Logan's been vaccinated against cat flu but she's still in quarantine.

Just like all those birds I brought home, mum! By the time I'm 60 I'll be finding stray horses on my door or something...

One of those days

Yesterday was one of those days...specifically, one of those days when I wished with almost all of my heart that I had just gone to law school after Queen's. And y'know, I wasn't thinking that if I'd done that right now I'd be wildly successful, internationally profiled, and fabulously wealthy. I was, quite honestly, daydreaming about how, if I'd gone to law school right out of Queen's, I'd be breaking even. Sadly, at the tender age of 29, my dreams have diminished from private jets, designer clothing, and a hand-bag for every day of the year to just not having to worry about buying a pair of new jeans when my old ones have fallen apart, and I'm still wearing them cause they're the only casual trousers I have, even though people start asking me if I want to sell The Big Issue rather than buy it.

How is it possible that I work three part time jobs and Nasser works two and we're broke?

And then, of course, I realise that we're not broke - don't worry mum! - and that I am living my dream anyway. I just didn't, when I dreamt it, remember to dream about the financial end... So we can't afford gym memberships at Virgin Fitness and the Gap is about as high as our street goes. We've got a full larder and fridge, enough books to keep us almost entirely happy, and digital TV.

In one of those bizarre packages that can only make sense in the coporate world it is cheaper for us to have digital telly, phone, and 2Mb broadband than just to have 1Mb broadband and phone. Hey Frasier is on, I'm not complaining.

Autumn not fall

September was, officially, the craziest month of the past few years. Glad it's over but a little concerned to find that it is October already. Which leaves only two very short months and a couple even-shorter weeks until Christmas...aiyee!! Sorry, that's still the C-word until at least after American Thanksgiving.

Our road trip was fantastic - our fabulous driver made it the whole way there and back in wonderful humour. The way there was lovely - Wiltshire is really beautiful countryside. And Longleat is stunning. I don't think I would ever get over looking out of my front windows at the beautiful, perfectly Platonically English landscape and seeing a rhinocerus contentedly munching the lawn. In the hunting gallery we also saw the doublet Charles I wore at his execution - complete with bloodstains around the neck...macabre, yes. But as I'm teaching Civil War and Restoration Literature this term, I thought it a good omen! The same room, the 'hunting gallery', also housed two prehistoric Irish Elk skulls with horns. Another example of Nature's twisted sense of humour.

We saw Stonehenge (from the road - £5 to get 10 feet closer?!):


And then went to Old Sarum and had delicious pub grub in Salisbury. We did miss the cathedral as it was nearly dark - very impressive spire though. As everyone who knows me understands, I am food-centred: I remember things by associating them with tastes. Now, Salisbury will always be evoked by a really nice venison steak. And mushrooms. Really good mushrooms.

And now, here we are, back in Leeds. Thanksgiving is coming up - another ex-pat dinner to look forward to. Nasser is making the pumpkin pie; in Canada, this is a fairly simple procedure thanks to the invention of canned pumpkin. Last year, when we hosted the ex-pats, we looked high and low at every grocery store within walking distance for such a thing. None to be found. So Nas, brilliant cook that he is, found a recipe and made it from scratch with fresh pumpkin. It was the best pumpkin pie we had ever tasted. Well, Jeff and I, the two other Canadians, thought so. And we are experts. My humble offering was maple whipping cream to top the pies.

My two classes really impressed me in our first seminar gathering - very talkative and enthusiastic. I'm really quite looking forward to the classes. Research and writing are also going well - must be the weather! I'd hate to think I was actually beginning to get the hang of this...

post road trip blues

having sucessfully travelled hundreds of miles along the M1 (with frequent and luxurious rest stops/bathroom trips/coffee breaks) we have arrived back in Leeds, flush with the joys of outdoor sleeping and much rambling about an Aristocratic English Estate, where we feasted our eyes upon a whole spectrum of exotic animals and valuable furnishings.

E and P (a boy/girlfriend duo) were our company, and E drove the distance, while P and Kales fell asleep in the back seat. i rode shotgun on the way up, bothering everyone with my choice of music. (who among you has a favorite road trip mixtape? can i get your playlists?)

i cannot resist those vending machine toys that you find at roadside stops - the red monster truck above is the fruit of my obsession. i also earned one of those joke telescopes that leaves a black ring around your eye if you are so gullible as to hold it to your face. (many years ago, i was obsessed with Kinder-egg toys, until the day i looked at my bureau and thought, 'all that stuff has cost me seventy dollars. i could buy lots of better things for seventy dollars.' and the mighty collection went to charity)

we camped in what wasn't much more than a grassy parking lot. but after Leeds and London and Toronto this month, it felt like the top of Kilimanjaro. the ground was hard, and the mornings were cold enough to make getting up to pee a debatable issue - a perfect, bracing start to any day!

many inane games were played and much of the conversation revolved around bodily functions - and it was an absolutely fantastic road trip which i am sad to asy has ended. now, it's work work work until the fat guy in the red suit tells me it's time to go home.

LONGLEAT!!

ROAD TRIP! Finally - out of Leeds - a 'summer' vacation! I love Leeds but I've never lived in a city this big without access to a car that can get me out of the city when I needed it. Since we've lived in Britain, we've never taken a road trip - neither of us have taken the risk of getting behind the wheel here! Very very very exciting... We're going down to Longleat, the manorial seat of the 7th Marquis of Bath (pronounced mar-quess) in Wiltshire between Bath and Salisbury. Not on a private invite alas...as with most of these ancient titles and properties, the land has been converted into public amusements. In this case, a safari park...oh yeah.

all work and no play...

Very very dull. I didn't finish my work so I can't play. So Nasser has taken my place in London welcoming Marina... I'm bitter and jealous. But I'm also writing a brilliant section for my fifth chapter - if I do say so myself. And it's Thursday night BBC comedy: Extras with David Bowie and now, That Mitchell and Webb Look. If you can, over there yonder, check them out. Especially the latter. So half an hour break, yes?

It was my mummy's birthday yesterday - and she had a crappy day involving the water softener exploding... no way to spend a birthday. But I think we made it better with our brilliant rendition of 'Happy Birthday'. I hope she kept it on the answering machine. I'm sure it would cheer anyone up any day.

Starting at the uni library on Saturday - Nas gets to spend an extra day in London - and tomorrow night I'm going to keep a friend company. She has three little ones under 3... every time I go I'm glad I have Logan instead. Sorry to all with children - I love all of your children. I especially love leaving them with you.

Numberwang!

out on the weekend

Yesterday was really our first Sunday without The Restaurant or any insane emotional episodes or stress. So we had a perfect day...But I'm getting ahead of myself cause we really did have a rather good weekend.

Friday night my department hosted a welcome-do for new faculty and invited us lowly PGs along. Free food and wine - in other words, there were a lot of us there. Unfortunately as I was upstairs in the cluster agonizing over the title for a paper the abstract of which I was in the process of sending, I missed most of the food. But luckily, the wine was still flowing. Several hours later, having judged enough of the wine to have been drunk to justify us leaving a free wine zone, we trooped off to a pub to continue the evening (even more) informally. Then, for reasons that definitely escape me now, we decided it was indeed a wonderful idea to go back to G's to continue the discussion (I forget now what it was!) accompanied by gin. Gin, while it may in some ways resemble love, is simply never a good idea. It was good gin (thanks Edel!) but any gin, I've decided, poured by someone already half in the bag, is not a good idea.

Thus Saturday morning was a bit fuzzy. My gardening mate got me up off the couch in the afternoon and we went up to garden - tomatoes everywhere! And still mountains of salad. We pulled up the courgettes, which were looking a bit dusty and spidery, and the dwarf beans, which were likewise a bit tired. They had served us well. Our pumpkins, alas, will definitely not be ready for Thanksgiving and the great pie bake-off (more of which later I'm sure). Nas meanwhile got to play golf with another G (score: 100). We all met up at ours - Logan was delighted with the company - had tea, a bottle of wine, and psyched ourselves up for...

Send More Paramedics.

Fan-bloody-tastic. And I can't honestly say that zombie-core is my kind of music. I can't honestly say that I could tell the difference between the songs. But the band was amazing - the crowd loved it. I won't give away our friend's name or mild-mannered alter-ego though...

Sunday: finally someone made us lunch! And G and I again destroyed the boys in euchre. We were later the losers in Kub in the park. That evening, we even went to see a film. How perfectly Sunday. It was A Scanner Darkly. It was interesting. I was supposed to go and see it last week with friends but missed it then - I'm not sure how I felt. It was very strange. My friend who is much more expert with sci-fi/fantasy than I did mention that it was quite close to the original story by Philip K. Dick. I'll have to give it more thought.

And that was the weekend. Today I was at the library at 9am for more training...I think I get it. I've only been working in libraries for three years! Our friend is moving to London this week - I'm going to down welcome her. Just learned that it's London fashion week though...ugh...

alles Gute zum Geburtstag!

It's my grandmother's birthday today - I wish we were closer. I wish I could give her an enormous hug and kiss and say 'happy birthday' to her, rather than over the phone. But I can't. And I know she will say that's okay and that I should worry about me and finishing my work - and that she doesn't like birthdays anyways cause they just remind her how old she is.

A few things I should point out:

• my grandmother is beautiful
• my grandmother's life-story is amazing
  
• my grandmother is the wisest, most generous, kindest and most courageous woman I know

It's possible that everyone thinks exactly the same thing about their grandmothers. I don't know them - but it's the truth about mine. I suppose it's a fairly cliched part of growing up that people who existed only as 'grandmother' suddenly and sometimes alarmingly become whole individuals with their own lives - most of which had nothing to do with me. I am constantly humbled by my grandmother's love - which is nearly a palpable thing: as secure as her lap and as encompassing as her arms. I don't know how I earned it but it always comforts me when I doubt myself and what I'm doing 5,000kms away from her.

Happy birthday Grandma!

without a doubt the most interesting post here, ever

Kaley is going to a training session today for her new job at the library. having a librarian in your pocket is a very handy thing, i think. now i can be loose with return dates and flagrantly check out more than my allotted share of knowledge, secure in the fact that my baby will erase all trace of my misdeeds (sinister chuckles).

i am going to press my shirt and make someone hire me today.

(and awaaaaaay we go!)

It's all right...

...my baby's coming back.

Is it strange to read this blog and have to figure out who is writing? Then again, I don't think we are easily mistaken for each other...even virtually.

Nas is coming home to Logan and I! We were getting sick of each other anyway. He actually slept on the chair in our bedroom instead of curled up next to me last night. I think it was payback for not letting him play with Lafonda, the neighbour's cat. We keep telling him that she's no good - but does he listen? Well, he's had his little operation anyway, so 'friends' it shall only and ever be.

There is nothing Nas deserved more than a weekend in T.O. with his best friends - especially as Nik is getting married at the end of September and we can't be there. But I will try to make home sound a bit exciting - Send More Paramedics show at our local on the weekend (our friend's zombiecore band), euchre night cause Eric's in town, and finally, of course...ROAD TRIP! I know it's not the same - but think of it as a postponement: we'll be home for Christmas.

Said goodbye to another friend last night - really must put an end to this! She's off to Spain and a teaching post. Too many faces missing in the crowd these days. I'm glad Spain isn't too far and not off our maps cause Jordi lives there too. So we have another excuse to travel - must think positively about these departures. Our friend must have arrived in Turkey by now as well...the world just gets smaller and smaller.

wish me luck

thanks to the machinations of the Superwife, i am firmly booked for an interview for a job that actually might be worth my time. if/when i get it, i will be teaching adults creative writing on a part time basis...for part time money, i suppose - but it's the experience that counts.

(i like that - 'Superwife' - perhaps i will keep that)

i'm also trying to swallow the bile that rises whenever i think about the good times i'm about to miss with Mah Freends in tdot this week. i'm sad i wont get to have a Wing Tribal Council, or scarf a kebab on the Danforth, or be generally dum. next time, perhaps.

in spite of the Policy at the airline (and thanks to Supermotherinlaw) i AM going to get on a plane today. i hope i can get a pill to combat the effects of paranoia and stereotyping, much less nausea and sleeplessness. and i think the outbound movie is a tender coming of age story about a red haired girl from Newfoundland or something. with any luck, i'll pass out and wake up in Manchester, refreshed and ready to take on the world. (more likely, i'll be stumbling into the nearest coffee shop and asking them to replace my blood with espresso).

so, whether the jitters are caffienated or pure nerves, wish me luck!

if i were al pacino...

i'd use more bullets and swear words in order to get my point across to people like the woman at the airline who wasn't going to change my plane ticket because 'it's policy'.

and i am thinking of a suitably Scarfaced response, but can only pronounce 'well then, i guess i'll have to wait.'

Carlito would be ashamed of me. Cut me up with a chainsaw.

i mean, since when do the rules apply to ME? I thought I was the special case, the exception to the rule, able to slip through long queues with a single slide?

and if i don't change this ticket, it's possible that i lose an excellent opportunity back in the UK. because i won't make this interview for a teaching job. even though they could phone me, they are only willing to interview people who are in town - not people who leave the country for a couple of weeks to sort out some family issues. (note the rule about Nice Guys and where they finish).

and there's the kicker - my family (who have cost me a lot in the past) continue to cost me even after i have left them. if they weren't such fools, i might not be in this situation - far from my wife, sleepless, and frustrated about almost everything. but perhaps it's due, in part, to the suffocating amount of dogma spewing from each and every outlet of the media on this, the fifth anniversary of the Tragedy Everyone Saw On Television.

lest we forget, there's always reruns, i suppose.

kulcher studies: Swayze 101

Home again home again...I must be getting old - I just don't sleep anywhere as well as my own bed. But that does not take away from the wonderful time I had doing absolutely nothing at all at a friend's in Keighley last night. I overshot the train but Sue picked me up anyway (two stops along from where she was waiting!) and we visited with her sister, sister's husband and their two gorgeous boys, and Sue's parents. All of them - the salt of the earth.

Bottle of white, ice cream, couches and DVD later...we ended up having a Swayze-fest - unintentionally I swear! Dirty Dancing accompanied our gossiping - with many the comments thrown towards the telly as well (the blue cardigan! Johnny's preference for high-waisted pants - and why does he need to be half-naked to teach Baby how to dance? Guh-gung.). Then just as we were about to turn in, flicking innocently through the channels...Road House. Truly, one of the worst films ever made. Those of you who haven't seen it - and who enjoy a bit of kulcher - go rent now. The only redeeming factor - and he just can't save it - is Sam Elliot: what a voice. Like James Earl Jones in Field of Dreams, which made me love baseball (momentarily), Sam Elliot makes me believe that I really could get westerns. Back to the story: Road House features the single most bizarre conclusion I have ever seen - including 2001: A Space Odessey. It's almost worth it just for that - and for the fact that the Swayze can rip people's throats out with his bare hands. I think it might be an homage to Bruce Lee - a bad one, yes.

And I've realised that I didn't, in fact, put up two posts in one day...see what being alone does to me?

Thus, delightfully, concluded the Week From Hell - in which our heroine doubted herself, struggled, persevered, slept badly, and broke out in zits.

Oh yes, once again, my wonderful supervisor was wonderful. She did give me a minor bolloxing about letting her know what was going on with me in the future - and handing writing in on time. But overall, the meeting was great - she said she was enjoying my chapter!!

And so begins a new adventure in which our heroine, newly inspired by her own wrongfully-doubted intelligence, WILL write the rest of the chapter, WILL get a new membership at the gym, WILL struggle and persevere (and hopefully sleep better). And will also hopefully appease her very disgruntled cat...

By the way, the weather has turned! September might just be my favourite month ever...

What begins with V?

Just finished watching V For Vendetta - I know this is two posts in one day - yes, I am bored and Logan isn't holding up his end of the conversation very well...

Anyway, point being - I loved it. I'd get all abstract on all y'all but I've been typing for three days solid and my fingers are worn to the bone. Yes, it is obviously a Wachowski Bros. script but it is fan-bloody-tastic. No I haven't read the original graphic novel - but I shall hie me down to my local pusher and get me a copy ASAP. So very many things to squee about...I don't want to spoil it for anyone who hasn't seen it so I'll give y'all a chance to rush straight out and see it. Natalie Portman's accent isn't great, but it's slight and I didn't really notice when it disappeared towards the end.

So now you've all seen it - such is the force of my e-enthusiasm - any comments?

A post for cam

Wish I was there! Though I suppose without my delicate female presence you and Nas can enjoy, unreservedly, the fights, crappy movies, and video games that Nas has missed so much! While I sit here - convinced that I am fooling myself about my choice of career and awaiting with mounting stress my meeting on Friday where I will receive a massive bolloxing from my wonderful, until-now patient supervisor.

Logan has been wandering around the house looking for Nasser all day - he's driving me nuts.

Nothing exciting to report. Am rather down today as I'm convinced that my project is crap, my writing is juvenile at best, and I don't have the foggiest clue how to engage critics. I think I may have to stay at Longleat when we go and accept the menial post of pooper-scooper in the rhino pens. Maybe I can work my way up to hippo-scratcher or turtle-herder. It's a far cry from lion-cub-cuddler, but hey, I'm ambitious.

Here is a picture of Logan and I hard at work on my pathetic thesis...

dear tony

so i have a new mac, and i love it. and i wanted to replace my PC laptop with a G4 ibook. so i surfed around on ebay and bid on a few, and lost every auction because i am too cheap to pay what they are worth, apparently.

enter tony.

tony emails me, telling me that the ibook that i lost has come up again, and he's offering it to ME for the insanely low price that i bid on it (about half of what they sell for online).

i think this is a gift from heaven.

until the emails start coing. he's asking me for information that he should already have, sending me links that don't work, and generally being illiterate and weird. the last email i sent him read:

'if you think i am stupid, reply to this email.'

he responded almost instantly.

*sigh*

people are a constant source of amazement to me.

rambling

Now I'm just procrastinating...

It's unfortunate that I adore research and reading, making plans, following arguments, realising connections - I love it all. I hate writing.

No that's untrue - when it is good, it is very very good; when it is bad...it's rotten.

Actually, this isn't rotten at all. I've just been sitting here slogging it out for too long and I'm determined to get it done.

We bought Brazil and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen on Ebay last week and watched Munchausen tonight. It's brilliant. I haven't seen it in ages. I'm not sure why we're on a Terry Gilliam kick but it could be worse. I could have decided to watch every episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer...or Firefly. Or Lost. No, I'm glad it was Munchausen - I needed some magic realism to strengthen me for my return to Vindication of the Rights of Woman!

Logan's favourite ever place to sit is directly in front of me when I'm working: curled up and purring away until I try to use the mouse or type. Then he lives up to his name and it's all teeth and claws and indignant cat being pushed off the desk. The pic is Logan ignoring me after being pushed off...

Found out today that my friend has gotten a one-year lectureship here at Leeds for this coming year - the dream is possible!

jammy news

My jam wasn't there.

I don't know what has become of it - likely the skip behind The Restaurant. Which is a shame as I was looking forward to a nice lunch of chili jam, brie, and melba toast. Ah well. I'll have to plant peppers next year in the garden and make my own, I suppose.

Left The Restaurant for the last time just now. I went up with a friend to say goodbye to everyone and enjoy one last bottle of white wine. I will miss the people I work with - but then, I've met lovely, creative, wonderful people that I can call for a drink or chat without the soul-sogging routine of The Restaurant to mediate the experience.

My friend and I mostly chatted about Our Final Year as it approaches - slouches towards us. I think I'll be fine - I put a lot of faith in my supervisor and I know she will tell me, in no uncertain terms, if I am in trouble. Until then I shall plug away. I've recently reread the chapters I've written and been suprised by some of it - disappointed by others - but I think I might actually know what the hell I'm talking about most of the time!

In other news, London beckons in September - helping a friend move over and find a place to live. I can't say I love London - I don't have much experience of these capital cities that make Toronto look like a trapping outpost. I do adore Barcelona - would really like to spend longer in Amsterdam - and Stockholm is a warm and fuzzy place in my heart because of my little bro. Last time I was in London - nearly a year ago - I ended up with horrendous allergies aggravated by the dryness of the air in the hotel room. I ended up in the bathroom with the shower running at full heat just to get some relief! But this time, we know where to go, how to use the underground, and best of all, have lovely wonderful friends to catch up with while we're there.

Then we get to go on a road trip - British style - with some friends. This will mean little to y'all in Canada but we're going to Longleat!!! Google it, you'll be impressed - and you'll instantly see why I'm so excited. Elizabethean manor house, Tudor hedge mazes, and...safari park!!! It's also the place where they film one of my favourite telly programs - 'Animal Park'. So I already know all the animals names - like visiting old friends! It's in Wiltshire very close to Salisbury and Bath - neither of which Nasser has seen. A side trip to Stonehenge has been mooted and supported. I went there with the Dad back in 1993 - yikes, was it that long ago?! - and I love it. We were there on a gorgeous day - a bus tour out from London to Bath and Salisbury. I remember the cathedral as stunning and Bath as equally gorgeous. And, for some reason, I remember the late afternoon sunshine on the cottages around Salisbury. Now, with all my research into the 18th century, I should be...incredibly annoying to my fellow travellers... I will try to restrain the facts and historical snippets that come springing to my lips but it will be difficult!

Well, working all day tomorrow at the library down the road and all night tomorrow on my chapter...so good night sweet ladies good night good night

every time i think i'm out...they pull me back in

The Restaurant cannot stand, apparently, without me.

I'm working at The Restaurant tonight - there's simply no-one else to do it. but i'm pretty sure i've alienated the owners enough to keep them from pushing their luck much further with me.

met a Fellow whose job at the moment is to go to bars and write down what music is being played over the stereo. the data he accumulates goes into a big pool, and from that, they determine royalties for the bands. nice job if you can get it.

this Fellow had a unique ability though - i've never been asked so many questions in so short a time. in three minutes flat, he had all kinds of information about me (age, marital status, educational history, why i was quitting The Restaurant, favorite bands, the color of my socks...)

i'm kind of a private person (but who doesn't think that about themselves?), but this Fellow's method created a really interesting situation - suddenly we were all sharing information and learning all sorts of things about each other. i remember my grade 4 teacher writing on my report card 'keep asking questions, nas! it's the only way to learn.'

thank you strange Fellow, for reminding me.

kaley had a disappointing morning. she left a jar of chili jam (made for her by a man with a holy holy name) at The Restaurant - one of those 'i thought YOU picked it up' scenarios. We pray that the jam is still there when we get to work.

i don't want to wish my time away, but lord, let tonight's end come quickly.

(kaley would like to share a photo with you all - more scenes from an allotment in leeds)

the final countdown

it's a bit odd, leaving The Restaurant. I get attached to places (not easily, but over time), and everywhere i've lived, i've had a place like The Restaurant as a kind of sanctuary. A place that runs on its own chaotic rhythms - where you can get a breakfast before anyone else is out of bed or a drink long after the bar has closed - and where you're almost never alone. in the best places it is the promise of pure welcome. in the worst case, you come in smiling and have to deal with a co-worker who is even more surly than the customers.

which isn't exactly a trial, either.

i've been at The Restaurant for almost two and a half years. i've been in england for nearly three. my life here, to a significant degree, has been conditioned by my crappy schedule, the whims of the owners, whether or not the punters were feeling generous and actually left a tip that weekend, whatever bootleg dvds are going around, and a million other minor events in and around The Restaurant. k and i have done some good work, met some real jerks and made some very close friends. and even though it is clearly time to move on, i'm going to miss it.

but not on sundays.

change is better than a rest

today represented the absolute last day that anyone could ever call me in to cover a shift at The Restaurant. and as fate would have it, the night manager's lovely wife has come down with a cold, leaving the poor fellow with three babies under three years old and a sickly wife at home.

so he called me.

and i, characteristically, said 'OK'

and kaley got really mad at me for a while.

but, on the plus side, this is the absolute last night ever in my life that anyone can call me in to work for them. from here on in, i'm calling the shots.

we've been moving our living room around today, and this post represents an excuse to type something at our newly re-designed, ultra ergonomic, super comfy desk/work station. i have a feeling we are going to fight over the privilege to work at this wondrous, economical, aesthetic expression of form and function.

it's time to tackle the bedroom next! but for now, i must shower and shave and get all fragrant for the poor poor customers who must endure my wrath this fine summer's eve (if they step out of line, that is).

nas

inane updates

It's hard to believe that it is nearly the end of August. Harder still to fully realise that we've been living here for three years - which means I am nearly finished my PhD. That is, I have one more year to finish it. Scary. Really.

Our good friend was here this morning for a farewell pancake breakfast. He's a fellow Canadian and has been a fixture in our lives (and hearts) since we moved here. I'm not good with change. We'll miss him hugely. Luckily for us, his lovely partner lives in London so it's not adieu, just au revoir. I had a wonderful English teacher in my final year of high school who struggled to teach us the basics of Conrad's Heart of Darkness. I've never forgotten understanding the finality of 'adieu' as a farewell. I haven't had to say it yet. I hope I don't have to for a long time.

Bank holiday weekend - the last of the summer - and our last weekend working at The Restaurant! New things new things new things await...

Rice and lentils await for now - and corn-on-the-cob. It ain't peaches and cream and didn't come from a dusty stand on Hwy 24 but it'll suffice. Ah...Joan Baez blarring through the wall from crazy, God-fearing neighbour...

new home

okay, so this is our new blog space as we are just too techno-tarded to figure out vox. Plus my sis and her fella have one of these here blogspots and i like the format better.

All of a sudden it's beautiful summer in England again - after about two weeks of rain. There is hope for my huge crop of green tomatoes after all. And nas has been teasing me with a road trip to Longleat...the site of my favourite TV show 'animal park' (a far cry from 'south park'). Luckily our friend with the car feels the same. I will keep you posted.

this posting sucks.

This is a picture of my sunflower, billy bob.