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Eat leftover cake at as many meal times as is decent.
Continue enjoying high quality bread made by friend: olive, seed, walnut etc. Yum!
Leave book boxes and toy boxes accessible for a while longer.
Enjoy sitting room in new format; lack energy to put things back as they were.
Sit at dining table and admire birthday tulips - and feel that spring might even be somewhere at hand.
Has anyone got an extra weekend I could tack on to the start of this week??
January 28th, 2008
I had great hopes of introducing a few of my gentle readers (and even some less gentle ones) to a little Scots this evening. But a spot of searching of online dictionaries led me to suspect that I had got the word I wanted wrong.
Yesterday saw a scene of great domesticity: a bit of Star Trek on repeat by way of background, a mound of socks before me. It was the day of the Sock Amnesty, when errant socks meet their partners again, and some sense of order is restored in the sock drawers of Him and Her. (On occasion, the event is upgraded to a Sock Cull…you can guess the rest. My mending skills are not always what they could be.)
A friend of mine is particularly swift at matching socks with their pair, and even has a small (I think home made) certificate to prove it. I was positive that what she was doing was ‘flyting’ socks, but when I looked it up, ‘flyte’ mainly seems to mean scold. I guess you could stand over the mound of socks and harrangue them, but it hasn’t worked for me before.
I was then going to put another word as a title to show that I felt a bit stuck at getting the wrong word. So I looked up that one, and it didn’t mean what I wanted either…
It’s all very well having had 25 years as a MacKenzie, Scottish relatives, around half my life living in Scotland…but I don’t really come across as a native when I speak. English mother, most of the rest of my life in England, and I sound it.
The more you stay around here in Scotland, though, the more extra words creep in that don’t get much use down south. (Though ‘minging’ seems to be doing quite well for itself now in the rest of the UK, I see.) Ever the linguistic magpie, I enjoy adding them to occasional, or even everyday, use.
Only difficulty is when I overextend myself, thinking I’ve got it right, authentic even, and it’s not. Though I just tried a different search, and the term ’scunnered’ (or ’scunnert’) turns up as I thought it did, meaning frustrated.
Ahm a wee bit scunnert but ahv no goat ma heid in ma hauns yet. In my next search, I found scunnert as fed up, but I also in turn came across www.urbandictionary.com so I can track down a few more words, Scots and other. Mair anon.
January 15th, 2008
Not the green ones. Sorry. Still can’t acquire the taste. But as a way to build myself back up to some gardening, am starting pretty much as basic as I can, and trying sprouting seeds.
One of my colleagues is a long way ahead of me in this, and has given me some tips, including germinating them in the airing cupboard. Last week, I managed to grow some alfalfa sprouts - having invested in my alfalfa seeds as part of the Grand Esoteric Foodshop at the start of the month. Probably should have left them a bit longer, but they happily leapt into Thursday’s stir fry, even if they were still fairly tiny.
Now it’s the turn of sunflower seeds. Both times, you add water, swill them about in their jar, and squint at them for the first day or so. And then - the first sign of something else growing. It’s that day to day change that’s particularly exciting. Being able to eat the fruits of my labours is - for once - a bonus. But I’m hoping to transfer that kind of bonus into a bigger activity this year.
Part of the problem is work. It tends to peak at just the time you need to put things into pots, let alone into the ground, and has, till now, kept up until the point when you’d hope to start enjoying the produce. But maybe this way, I can build up a little sense of achievement to keep me going in new gardening experiments.
Mustard and cress sandwiches anyone? You know it’s only a matter of time. And water.
January 13th, 2008
There’s been a shift in the Frydman tectonic plates. I find myself interested in playing games.
Lest you rush off to warn Dan, not those kind of games, but card games, possibly even the odd board game.
The world is split into various groups, it seems to me (and yes, there’s a board game for that too, which goes on all night). Those who enjoy board games tend to be on a different continent from those who don’t. (I think there’s probably a separate large island for jigsaw puzzlers. I may swim there some day.)
So to cross over into the game zone is really quite a shift in the substratum. It helps a great deal not to be fazed by losing. (I don’t think I will enter the ‘taunting other players while winning’ archipelago, though I must admit to taking a certain amount of satisfaction winning car races on Facebook.)
So why stay away? Sometimes what others have said, sometimes what I say about myself. I have long qualified as a ‘bad loser’, a state which it seems best to avoid mention of entirely, and the easiest way to do this seemed to be to avoid games. Equally, where others flock to be sociable, and to find activities to do with others, I am quite keen on the opportunity to curl up with a good book, and so on.
What’s changed? Sure, games are still about competition - nothing but, for some people. Again, I used to avoid having to be around others being hyped up when thinking they’re on a winning streak.
Now I guess I just think that these things matter less. I am more interested in the game as a way of being with people, possibly learning something new. (You certainly learn about friends and family in a new way when you see them play games…and what they do to each other in the process.)
So: having graduated to gin rummy playing, while on holiday with Dan, we played some more while in London with Jen. I lost all but one game, which was a little annoying, but not desperate. (Beating them at Star Wars Top Trumps on return was rather nice as a comeback, it has to be said.)
I found myself thinking it might be fun to get a book of card games and try out other ones. Reading “The Solitaire Mystery” and rewatching “Casino Royale” over the holidays does have to be factored into this thinking too, but there’s also a curiosity - 52 cards, meaning so many things to so many groups of people over the years. Whether for fun, to occupy most lunch breaks (computer solitaire being one of my former colleague’s habits), or just to try something new, it could be interesting to add another game or two to my repertoire.
So, gentle and not at all competitive reader, let me know if you’ve got any good tricks up your sleeve in this regard. We might even have reason to look for a charity shop tux to go with them.
January 7th, 2008
Dan’s creating a curry…and I’m free to tap away, and come up with a new blog post.
To be honest, it’s a chance to sum up a lot of what the holiday has been about. Food, reading, and a bit of tinkering around the house.
Food…it’s been a nice opportunity to cook. Admittedly most times of year are good to cook, but staying at home means there’s a bit more time for it. Managed to feed one couple who have entertained us many times, but also a good friend back in Edinburgh from her home in Bangaldesh. Hopefully the start of a bit more hospitality at home this year.
Reading…an opportunity to introduce “The Kitchen God’s Wife”, by Amy Tan, which I’m working my way through. Some books you speed through - this one you don’t. Reading about the Cultural Revolution is sobering stuff, even if the characters are (probably only somewhat) fictionalised.
On the plus side, you can certainly get caught up in the descriptions of the places, the landscape, the names of cities that slowly I’m learning, through hearing them via colleagues who work on programmes with China. Given those all-important Olympics this year, probably no bad time to be learning a bit more about China.
And tinkering…some mine, some from Dan’s mum. A year or so back, we were given his and hers aprons. Although I like a little light kitchen goddessery, I was slightly taken aback to have a) named aprons and b) ones bearing the terms ‘kitchen god’ and ‘kitchen goddess’. Jen kindly aided us to bring the aprons back to a plain state.
So. New year. New aprons. They’re what every respecting god and goddess are wearing.
January 6th, 2008
It’s confession time. I enjoy having people over, cooking for them…but sometimes I secretly think that the best bit about parties is eating up the leftovers afterwards.
The fact that this comes shortly before going away for Christmas means that there are all sorts of plans for how to use things up in a pleasing manner. It must rank reasonably high in my subconscious, as that was what I woke up thinking about, while trying hard to wake up enough to get up and see if I had remembered the contents of the fridge accurately…
Part of the thing with parties that makes this satisfying is where you have a party with different people bringing different things. Leftovers - with unplanned ingredients! It’s fairly close to Ready Steady Cook, but without the inconvenience of a studio audience.
To be honest, what was also exciting was seeing how well all the different things went together last night. Nibbles, mini things on french bread, a big vat of soup…I mention this as I am reminded of a similar party a few years ago where we decided we would all bring Christmas things from different countries - or at any rate, a dish relating to a particular country.
The only difficulty was that we had all thought about dishes containing potato, or so it seemed by what was produced. For one guest, fairly heavily pregnant at the time, this meant effectively eating a five course meal where every course included potato. Not great if you are working on a smaller stomach, and having difficulty digesting things…
But the second joy of leftovers is the potential to do things you might not normally do, such have coffee and cake for breakfast. (To be honest, cake for breakfast is such an exciting prospect that it’s just as well I don’t do this too often.) You can equally have things that you might normally eat - such as soup at lunchtime - but with someone else’s take on what that should be. (Three cheers for spiced parsnip soup, by the way.)
So hurrah for parties. And leftovers. In this day and age, in the West, we have lost the significance of feasting, because we are unused to the alternative - or unwilling to go there. We have to get our joy of providence through other means. Leftovers might just be it.
December 20th, 2007
Frost has stolen over even this mild coastal area of Edinburgh. Yesterday and today, the garden has been covered - and stayed covered nearly all day. The top of the shed was two tone at lunchtime, with one half normal colour, the other half still frosted over.
For those trying to get some sense that Christmas is nearly here, this and the warm coloured light are a reminder that it’s December, at least. Heading off to the shops today, part of an oratorio came back to me that I must have sung over twenty years ago, our first Christmas concert when our school choir had just formed, and we were getting used to proper four part singing.
“Hodie Christus natus est…Hodie salvator apparuit…” Kindly, the school laid on Latin too, at least while I was there, which helped me understand what I was singing. Today Christ is born, today the saviour appears…Even though it’s not ‘today’, the opening song wouldn’t leave me while I was walking up, and back to the shops. Which is what it’s for, really - it’s the processional at the start and end of the piece.
As we get older, trying to find Christmas can get harder. We expect it to appear in our homes, our spirits. Some fortunate friends seem to retain the excitement, year after year. The first year I was experiencing Christmas as a Christian, aged 19, I got some of that back. I was singing carols, not just because it was the time of year to sing them, but because I was excited about what they were telling me.
Perhaps today, for me at least, I need the processional to walk Christmas back into my life, my home. Going to Dan’s church in London, predominantly Afro-Caribbean, you sing the same song again and again until you are ‘walking’ in the truth of it. It becomes part of you. So, today, I process out of the house with the news of Christmas, and process back home, bringing it back in with me.
Hopefully it will stay too. Like the best of guests at Christmas, there’s nothing like having someone who you want to be there. Even a brief visit fills up your heart again.
December 17th, 2007
Cold nights. Longer hair. Seems like a sensible option. (So does hibernation, to be honest. But sadly work won’t pay me if I remain in a burrow rather than going to the office.)
Women seem to be allowed to change their minds on a lot of things, and changing the length of your hair almost goes with the territory. It’s kind of expected. So I don’t know whether I’ve been delayed in doing so, or whether it’s in keeping with other decisions in life. Other people change jobs every couple of years, it seems. I’ve been in mine seven and a half years, mostly, and that’s showing all the signs of continuing.
Anyway. Rapunzel effectively (for me), growing my hair a bit, as it’s been short for ages. Easy to do in the mornings. Practical. That kind of thing. But even a little change, and it feels quite different. Suddenly I can hide behind it a little (one of the reasons why people like having longer hair, or at least when you do when you’re in your teens, female, and a bit shy). I have a choice of styling options! So far this mostly runs to a) behind the ears and b) not. But it’s a start.
Where this will lead to, I don’t know. Thankfully the bloke is already in the picture, so I don’t have to go for major long hair growing like Rapunzel herself. (It’s just as well, given the nasty bits about Rapunzel’s bloke falling in briar patches and that sort of thing.) But a little change is a useful thing…if only for turning into a story now and then.
December 16th, 2007
It took more visits, but the michty Man of heating fixed the boiler, replacing the timer. We are back to normality. Hopefully even better, as we have a somewhat more programmable timer, and can do all kinds of fancy things like having it come on later at weekends and so on.
Temperatures are dropping this weekend. Certainly waiting in the station tonight to come back to Edinburgh, I was glad to know that we were going back to a house with heat. A somewhat expensive lesson in the usefulness of monthly payments for boiler checks, but we reckon in the end that, had we had this kind of plan since we moved in, we’d have paid more in total than we did to get things fixed this time. But we’re sure as anything getting one for the future…
There were some great thoughts for posts in the last couple of days, but they seem to have dropped off somewhere. Friday was my last day at work - a full three weeks off now, which is bound to make some people sick. Sadly, it did to me too - one of these sick headaches came on at the end of the work day that means you just want to get home very fast and lie down in a darkened room. (Now I understand what darkened rooms are for. Any more stimulation when you feel like you want to throw up, but can’t, would be more to deal with than I was prepared for at that time.)
Two hours’ sleep got me back to normal, but then, stupidly, couldn’t sleep when it was actually time to go to bed. Too many questions of what to do over the next few weeks. That’s the only thing with holidays. Look forward to them for ages, build them up in your mind, and then they finally arrive, and you expect to feel wonderful. And clearly I felt anything but…
Still, it’s a reminder that a certain amount of what I want at the moment is to do not very much. Perhaps this early hiatus was in fact the beginning of the rest. At least it’ll be easier to retain warm memories, however the holidays turn out.
December 15th, 2007
This should properly be tagged as both home and out and about, since I’m at home, and Dan’s out at the cinema with friends from our church small group.
Arrangements to get together tonight got a bit complicated, and in the end, I stayed put. Have been feeling a little guilty at how much I’ve enjoyed having the flat to myself…A few Christmas cards, a first attempt at some Christmassy music this year, followed by taking myself off to the bath to do some useful preening prior to tomorrow’s work Christmas do.
Back when Dan ran his business from home, I used to joke that the flat was more his than mine…but he was there almost all the time. This week, he probably feels like he’s been here all the time, given further visits from the heating Man (or rather Men - different ones at different times). Fingers crossed that it gets finally fixed tomorrow!
Meanwhile, despite some hiccups with it tonight, managed to get heat (and therefore hot water) on for most of the night, which allowed me to have a nice long bath and catch up on Saturday’s magazine from the Times. Interesting mini article on what they call microtrends. You can evidently get patterns off the Internet to knit your own beard - there are Bee Gee style full pokey out beards. However, this is the opposite of bathroom preening really, although the attempted knitting circle at work might be interested…
Even though the business is now away from home, it’s still fairly rare for me to have the flat to myself. So unlike Macauley Culkin, I am too pleased with a nice hot bath to be worrying about fending off inept house burglars. Perhaps the advent calendar will distract them, should it be needed.
With two days to go, and the prospect of a longer chunk of time off work, slowly realising that I can also have the flat to myself for much of next week, while Dan is still at work. Had a similar set up last year, although I was still writing essays for the counselling course as much as I could…This year is probably more of the Grand Tidy Up, but I think we’ll build in some fun stuff too.
Even though I have the prospect of travelling less, now we have more staff at work on the same activities as me, I’m still the one of the two of us who tends to be away with work. Sometimes just day trips, sometimes overnight. Was away last Friday, stayed on an extra day. Often it’s good for us, Dan and I. We enjoy being together more once we’re back together - without it being of the same epic proportions of months apart when we were engaged and I was working in Poland.
As a result, it is still a treat for me to be at home. I’m sure this annoys some of my friends who are at home all day every day with kids, and would like a quick escape without them now and then, let alone a night away on their own. Maybe I’ll get to this point some time. I wouldn’t quite go the full IKEA, but yes, home is a really important place for me.
And a good dose of it should help me muster up the courage to face a party tomorrow…less familiar territory, but hopefully a good end to the working year.
December 12th, 2007
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