Archive for February 18th, 2007
When I was still putting our news into yearly letters for Christmas time, I found myself wanting to categorise different years by activity: the year of the flat, the year of decorating, or whatever.
I’m not sure whether it feels like that anymore, as certain tasks come round again, or get repeated. However, there is a new theme emerging at the moment: soup making.
My liquidiser broke last year - a testament to a time when machines were made to last more than a couple of years, given that it started off being used to make my meals when I was a baby. This year, I bought a new hand-held one, and am probably a bit over-excited in seeing what it will do. Soup seems to be the most obvious place for trying it out, especially while the evenings are still quite cold.
For those who really want to know (and indeed for those who don’t too, since I am quite proud of the results), soups so far include: leek and potato, green lentil, pistou, and hopefully this evening, broccoli and stilton.
There’s nothing like variations on a theme to help you feel you are getting the hang of something. I promise there won’t be turtle soup (thinking back to the title of this post). But for now, no vegetable is safe. And maybe a few other ingredients too.
P.S. Dan has just pointed out that I need to explain the title. It’s from Alice in Wonderland, where the Mock Turtle is singing about soup. Off you go and check.
February 18th, 2007
The season of work trips has started again, and the start of February saw me visiting Liverpool for the first time, while encouraging Scottish teachers to make partnerships with Irish schools.
One advantage of these weekend trips is that you get the chance to see something of the place where you’re staying. Given my parents’ choice of music while I was growing up, walking round town was a chance to replay various Liverpool-related songs.
Liverpool will be European City of Culture in 2008, and near the Mersey, you could see a lot of new buildings going up rapidly. Warehouse space is in some areas well re-developed (the Albert Dock complex, including Tate Britain, lots of cafes etc) and in others still waiting for the chance.
My first view from the hotel room, while unpacking on the Friday, couldn’t be bettered: the Metropolitan Cathedral in one direction, the Liver Building in another. Unfortunately, the fog was setting in by the time we were let out on the Saturday afternoon, so I managed to see both again, but with less visibility as the afternoon wore on.
By the time I got to the Mersey, you couldn’t really see anything. It was quite atmospheric though, looking out into the mist and hearing fog horns sounding, possibly on the other side of the river.
The highlight for me, though, was the Metropolitan Cathedral. Yes, it does look like a space ship from the outside. The guidebooks will freely allow that it started leaking etc within a few years of being opened, and they’ve spent a lot of money having to restore it. But that doesn’t prepare you for the wonderful light inside through the stained glass in the ‘chimney’ part. Every side chapel is different, with separate purposes. And by making the main section a circle, so you are never far from the altar or the other people, it certainly seems to help you feel part of a community.
And with a love like that, you know you should be glad…
February 18th, 2007
Spring seems round the corner in Edinburgh this weekend. Sunshine two days in a row, birds singing, the garden less in shadow than before.
The real excitement, however, is being able to see this from our new desk. A friend, Olly, who’s part of our church small group, came and fitted a very large wooden shelf in our study. I am now able to write this and see out at the same time into our garden, enjoying lots of natural light and space.
Not sure whether the desk will provide necessary thinking space too for both of us, but it’s increasing the chances. No bad thing while I try to finish the essays for my counselling course, and Dan plans the next exciting installment of Inigo: the expansion.
Dan and I are both quite good at writing elsewhere from desks - beds, sofas, even sitting room floors. But having the space to write should help our postures and maybe even help us think more clearly.
I can now see bulbs coming up at the far end of the garden, and the magpies buzzing about finding nesting material. All’s right with the world, for a few precious hours. No bad place to sit. Or think.
February 18th, 2007