Bonnie Blue in Wales

The Last Post

2007-02-01T16:22:00.000Z

This is the last post from your correspondent Bonnie Blue here in Cardiff.

But I would never, ever, evvvvah leave my readers aimlessly looking for a focus for their attention! The new blog will be located at:

Bonnie Blue in Norwich

and should begin being posted sometime next week for your amusement and viewing pleasure.

My final word before loading the car (as I am not entirely confident in my ability to cram everything in in a reasonable manner by myself, so that all important items are hidden in the trunk and will not inspire thievery by anyone who might happen to chance upon the car whilst it is cleverly parked at Hammersmith tonight, since parking in London is about as plentiful as teeth in a chicken's mouth), will be to inform on a triple killing which occurred here at 139 Glenroy Street at approximately 8.14 pm last evening. It is crucial that I make it clear that this had nothing to do with me directly. I was not consulted before three little friends were dumped into Carrot and Jasper's habitat.

We had carefully selected the largest snails from the vegetation display at Pets at Home on Newport Road... They had such a bright future ahead of them as little algae eliminators. And there was so much algae to be eliminated... Within about 4.3 seconds of being put in the water, two snails had disappeared into the gullets of each of the ridiculously porky fish. They then proceeded to flap their mouths open and shut for quite a while -- completing the morbid process of snail-with-shell mastication.

B was in charge of supervising for a bit and when Jasper (the hog) went for the final snail, who we had thought was the biggest and would therefore not be in danger, he alerted me and I chased Jasper with the net and made him spit the snail out. Then we made a 'Green Zone' for the snail, the net placed at an angle around our already industrious snail. The Green Zone was moved as the snail moved and then Jasper swam smack into the net, tilting the Green Zone over (he is an eediot). Although we did our best to manage the Green Zone, the Last Snail was nowhere to be seen by 20.46 (or thereabouts). Shrieking at Jasper did not help.

Today, Jasper is a bit slow, this being due to either extreme gastric distress from too many snail shell pieces or to the addition of oddly coloured rocks into the tank. Jasper has grown and I think he has gotten a little big for his scales and thinks he is a pirana or something.

*****

Other than the triple snailicide, this week has been manic marking 73 Intro to Language exams. I have gleaned some more new words... and some gymnastic ability in logic. Also dominating my time has been attempting to find a place to live in Norwich online (there may be hope) and organising my packing (thank the good Lord, there is not weight limit other than what my little arms can wrench into a Beemer boot).

Tonight, E and I drive to London, where he has a meeting tomorrow. After returning to the cleverly (and hopefully unmolested) car, we will continue the drive to Norwich, which E finally noticed after looking at a map is in the middle of nowhere ('Do you know where Norwich is and how hard it is to get there?'). If luck is with us, we will arrive before dark, have time to look at the two possibilities and I will pick one and move my things inside at the very moment. This will prevent my having to do any hauling and/or lifting at a later time (and by myself. E is brave and strong removal man, plus he cooks.) and my being able to relax a little bit before being at work at 9am on Monday! Fingers, toes, legs, eyes, bridges all need to be crossed, please!

Ooh! Time to go!

See you on the new blog. TTFN.

OOooooHhhhh, AND -- they have given me an MA! Hoorah! Dissertation was marked 65 and final mark was 64, comfortably above PhD standard (according to Dawny. She's the smart one!). So yay!

Pronunciate, you big lout!

2007-01-29T14:24:00.000Z

Oh dear Lord.

There seems to be a linguistic evolution occurring in the first-year uni student generation or else something ridiculous was announced by the OED whilst I was out of the country (one cannot, however, do free searches on this site --- grrrr... Shockingly, my immediate plans for myself do not include paying £195+VAT for an online subscription anytime in whatever future there may be. Good Lord Almighty.). This horrendous word has appeared several times now in the exams I am marking. Apparently (no thanks to the OEDOnline), this is an actual word and, although quite rare (and perhaps not worthy of the absol. outraged swivet I have gotten myself into today), but I would like to put forth my protestation that this is a non-word (besides the fact that it just sounds stupid) and should not be revived. And this is not just because of my American spelling history; it should vex us all.

Topic (the legality or illegality of this utterly inane combination of enunciate and pronounce) is now open for discussion on this forum. Call me, we'll have coffee. We'll talk. Oyyy, vay.

Renewed obsessive blogging on my various insights into air travel, the wonders of efficiency in the L.A. British Embassy, feline acrobatics, and synchronised chimney-sweeping will recommence once these travesties of intellectual sensibility are marked...

To leave you, my indulgently patient readers, we submit this sentence for your analysis:
'The words may have preceded the action, as a consequence.'

NOT MasterCard. NOT Discover.

2007-01-18T20:34:00.000Z

These entries are getting ever more spastic.

But, someone has a VISA!!!!!!!

Hoorah! Now, I can stop grinding my teeth during normal daily activities over concern for having to possibly change my flight home :) Grinding teeth is best done at night when you are unaware of the damage you are inflicting upon your maxillofacial regions.

Anyhoo, at Centenary at the moment, catching up with things and tying up some loose ends. Shall possibly return to the activity of blogging in a bit when Mama and I go for her daily internet lesson at the coffee shoppe, before heading home to make an attempt at curry for Brant and Oma for this evening :)

If not, then tomorrow is always another day for procrastinating...

Dishonesty and Sleet

2007-01-17T16:38:00.000Z

It is slightly dishonest to be writing on here when BonnieBlue is actually in the 'Port of the Shreve (Shreveport -- it is a little linguistic joke that only really silly people get).

Going through techological withdrawal without 24-7 wireless access. But have found a coffee shoppe called Moxie Java in Bossier City which has saved my life and allows me to drink lovely chai latte and communicate with you, my Trolley People.

The pace has been manic, yet absol. not as horribly stressful as anticipated. How am I remaining calm? It has to do with my gorgeous Flee and my fabulous parents and my cute little Oma, I think :)

So the manic part started when the flight left Gatwick an hour late on Friday last. Am assuming this had something to do with wind. Then, the flight went North, which I do not recall as the route from trips before, but then again, my memory is not exactly commendable in some instances. So, we flew over western Scotland and then Iceland and Greenland, which was absolutley amazing and I cannot imagine people living there. One note: from the air, you can see the crinkles of the ocean that are the waves but they do not appear to move at all -- isn't that bizarre? It looks like a static picture -- v. interesante.

Then, once we got over the edges of northern Canada, the ocean was completely frozen (although this might have been bays instead of ocean) and you could see crevasses and fissures in the ice. But it looked like the amazing images in Planet Earth that E and I have been watching the last few weeks. Also v. cool, and staring out the window distracted me from my diligently mad knitting. I am obsessed with staring out windows when travelling; there was, however, NO licking of the window.

So, with the late start and heavy headwinds, the flight arrived into DFW 1:15 late and by the time I debarked (that word makes me laugh), there were approx. 45 minutes for me to make my connection. Upon entry in the immigration barn -- I mean, arrivals hall -- our flight joined about 3,000 other people trying to get through immigration. Admittedly, they did herd us through fairly quickly and on into the luggage hall, where the plan was intended that one collected one's luggage, joined a queue of 2,500 people trying to go through a security checkpoint, and then either departed the building or rechecked one's bags for connecting flights. My second bag came toodling down the carousel at 4.30, giving me 10 minutes until my connection. It might also be amusing to note that myself and 150 pounds of luggage was in Terminal D and my connection was in Terminal B. It did not amuse me. Nor did the fact that there was no way to let my collectors know that they would not be seeing me at the time advised.

Even though my 4.40 flight was delayed until 5.00, there was no way for me to make it, so luggage and self got new travel plans from the nice people. And THEN I had to go through a second entry checkpoint to go BACK into the secure parallel universe that is associated with flight travel. WHY in God's name someone thought it was necessary to make this extra step out-and-in for people continuing to fly elsewhere, I do not know. Stripped to sock feet yet again, but the nice lady told me I had a lovely smile and then I took off at high speed to get to my 6.15 flight. Then my eyes rested for 15 minutes. Then the flight was delayed to 6.30. Then to 6.55. Then 7.05. Then 7.15. Then we moved from gate B34 to B39. Then the flight was delayed to 7.35. Then to 7.55. Then to 8.05... you get the picture. At 8.28, the Lafayette flight was announced for boarding and the people clapped and whooped! hahahaha! Twenty minutes later, our flight was moved to gate B34 (this may sound familar) and then we were threatened that we would not be allowed to board until 3 volunteers were found to go on the next flight. When the puddle jumper finally took off, there was an extra seat next to me and my head was magnetically drawn to it and I drooled all the way to the Shreveport Metropolitan Airport...

oops -- must go now. The mama has come to collect me so's we can get home before the sleet and snow starts sticking on the ground. Will continue at my next computer fix session...

Halfway legal!

2007-01-09T12:49:00.000Z

The application from UEA to Work Permits UK was mailed late last week and has already been returned to them approved! This is apparently a record :)

Oh. My. Gosh. Hoorah.

I am speechless.
I am baffled.
I am so indescribably relieved!

YAAAAYYYYY!!!!!!

This means that the permit can be overnighted to me here and will be privileged to accompany some china in my carry-on bag on my flight home. This will guarantee that my bag will NOT be out of my sight at all (although I generally do like to leave my baggage in the company of strange people in airports. I tell them it is a Time Machine.) and may even be clutched tightly against my chest even whilst knitting. Although this could become annoying and result in lumpy socks.

Saturday will be spent filling out the teensiest details of my character, intriguing history and skills (including, no doubt: welding, driving a tractor, hunting and my ability to whinny), submitting the form and some more of my financial life blood online, and FedExing supporting documents to an Embassy somewhere so that we can hope for the promised 5-day processing time!

I shall now make myself some tea.

Prints

2007-01-09T09:58:00.000Z

What?! (this is not meant to be an expression of shock at the fact of my blogging two days in a row. there is a reason for this event, which will be discussed later -- so as to build suspense.) The US has now decided to fingerprint all ten digits of British tourists upon entry. Oh yes, this is just a superb idea. Showing solidarity and building upon our history of international cooperation. (sarcasm, please) This appears shady and slightly absurd since the so much of FAA security is a comical joke, especially in comparison to flight security here. I was not fingerprinted coming here neither as a tourist nor on the student visa, nor as far as I know were my credit card details and/or email addresses examined before my entry. Well, I did have to stand in an obscenely long line to get through security but at least there were orderly queues instead of the cattle herding experience of customs through, for example, Atlanta, St. Louis or DFW.

********
Our second topic today will be the problems of apathy one experiences in the final phases of packing, whether one is packing things for storage in a kind soul's house or packing for a trip. The final phase involves a random selection of items which have either a) not been able to be organised with an earlier section of packing (e.g., binoculars) or b) could have been organised with earlier items but were sadly overlooked (e.g., a book of Elizabethan plays) and which now will be completely unrelated to the objects alongside which they are placed. Resulting lack of OCD inspiration leads one to look to one's blogger account for solace and time-usage purposes.

********
For a completely different news item, we have a mouse in our house :) It apparently lives in the kitchen behind the washing machine. Diana hates mice more than any other creature in the world. This is the point where I could point out the usefulness of precious Skimble in this situation, but we are going to try the letting agency first. However, if CPS's treatment of mold on my wall is any indication, we should have a village of mice within a month. Perhaps they could start paying rent.

I wonder when the mold will start to look like Elvis... maybe this will be my next distraction from packing staplers and proof of the Nigerian's plagiarism.

Dixie, cousines and reappearing scarf

2007-01-08T10:31:00.000Z

Is it an omen that there was a car horn honking that played 'Dixie' whilst I walked home from work last week? Does this mean people will be happy to see me? Or does this mean they will think me a traitor for leaving Dixie? Hmm. A quandry. But not one to dwell on for long. My Oma, my parental units and my feline unit will be happy to see me (as well as the auntees and unclees and cousin(e)s) at least and they are all that matters :) That feline unit had best not run and hide from me in terror and tormented fear or I shall be most vexed.

Okay. So, yes, it is apparent that my blogging skills have been excessively lax. This has been pointed out by numerous people on numerous occasions and for my negligence I do apologise profusely (because my life is a comedy and depriving others of the opportunity to chortle is b-a-d). I shall try to fill everyone in in a not-too-confusing manner.

Firstly, the Cousine, Lady Lindsey LovelyLocks, arrived for une visite on Monday 18 December and was able to witness the spastic life of Amrie first-hand via my obscene work schedule and manic evening outings to such events as the pantomime (Jack and the Beanstalk) and non-occurring Quiz Nights, where we were able to meet random nutter people who just decided to join into our group's conversation (now she can report that it is not exaggeration on my part that the insane find me conversationally irresistable) :) She learned not to say to Simon Rowe, 'Surprise me!' in reference to a beverage order. She learned that Germans and Americans frequently communicate in Andy voices. She learned what a chav is. Very educational trip! It really was so fabulous to see a member of the fambly, although a much slower schedule on my part might have prevented both of us from becoming a bit sniffly-ill by the time she departed on Christmas Eve :( When I have a normal life again and people visit me....

But anyhoo, then was Christmas. The sniffly-illness overcame me on Christmas Day and I was mostly unable to move and function generally at all other than sporadic fits of temper at phone and internet, and E was left to do the entire Christmas dinner by himself :( But the positive part about this was that everything was perfectly grand and marvelous and the turkey was absolutely GORgeous (again)! There were six for dinner: Diana (my housemate, Columbian), B (E's housemate, South African), Soren (B's friend, Malaysian), Aparnah (my friend from Lush, Indian), Eamonn (Wirish) and me (Loon). We had a flaming Christmas pudding (and actually there is still another one marinating in brandy at E's house -- it may burn the house down should it be lit now...)

Then there was Boxing Day, during which I continued in my sniffly lethargy and knitted and watched movies all. day. long. But a rest was really, really nice after working 60 hour weeks. And this rest allowed me to go on living :)

Then came the point where I started to get annoyed at the shady Nigerian guy who still has not paid for his transcription.... 225 pounds worth. It seems like he will possibly pay 'within the next couple of weeks' but he has ruined my niceness for future transcription customers. There will be information withheld in future until payment is made. (The sad thing is that I have had no problems with this before this rubbish guy.)

This past Friday was my last day on the rotor at LUSH (although I might be put back on for a few shifts if I am back in Cardiff for any length of time before The (tentatively, she says) Move.)

*********
Oh. This is where I suppose publishing of official notification on the blog should occur...

So, I will be returning to the 'Port on Friday for the first time since my Sept 2005 departure. It seems like forever that I have been in Cardiff and at the same time yesterday that I left, until I realise that I have missed my Daddy's 70th b-day; Ralph has passed away; many, many of my friends have had babies or are expecting soon; Paul's precious Chickory doggy reached the end; Therese's Penelope also had to go on; my parents have rescued and then adopted out innumerable kitties; I have missed two Thanksgivings and two Christmases, at least one Paul and Al Crawfish Boil; and have not eaten proper Mexican food in 16 months -- the horror!

During my trip to Loosyanna, I will be selling more of my furniture (advertisement), attempting to organise my life and help Mama and Daddy think about getting internet so's we can talk fo' free, speaking to Rotary clubs, and buying macaroni and cheese for Steffi (my German housemate who misses it terribly -- they don't make it right here). Also, we will ALL (and this means all of you) be hoping that the British government will grant me both work permission and a visa! Work permission has already been applied for here and after that comes through, visa will be applied for in the States.

The University of East Anglia offered me a position as Senior International Officer in their Marketing Division and I need to start as soon as possible (both because they need me and because I am running low on financial sustenance by this point -- hee hee). This job will entail my recruiting students to UEA from the US of A (hmmm. This sounds familiar, right? I wonder if I can manage it.) and from Australia and New Zealand (yippee! sadly, though, it appears that there is only one trip there per year.). UEA is in Norwich, England. There was a brief mention of a trip to Norwich on the blog in October, and yes, this was the reason for that journey.

It appears to have paid off and I am so excited to be moving there! Except for the fact that it is so blasted far away from my friends in Cardiff. Boo. It is not as Olde Worlde as York (my favourite) but is a lovely town with friendly people. And a yarn shoppe. And a yarn stall in the Market! Hoorah! Yarn is the way forward! It is about 1:45 train ride northeast from London and is the major city in East Anglia. It is a safe distance away from Ipswich :) A few weeks ago, some people were questioning my plan to move. ha.

At the moment, am in process of packing things away for storage at E's house (and am supposed to be sorting papers.... ick.). Jasper and Carrot will be moving there this evening. And of course, for the fun of moving, guess what. It is persisting it down outside... and this is forecast to continue all week.

Okay. Dear me. People are now emailing again re: 'where is the blog? when will you blog?' so must publish now! Keep your pants on!

The Happiest Christmas Tree

2006-12-16T21:38:00.000Z

If that song is played tomorrow at Hawkin's Bazaar, I think I shall invest in a chainsaw.

Although, at the moment, my mood is fairly fabulous due to the glitter and aromatherapy effects of working all day at Lush :) So perhaps I will just continue with building the Homer Simpson 3-D jigsaw puzzle tomorrow. That is fun. Earlier in the week, I got to weave paper on a loom into the beginnings of a purse-ish type thing. Unfortunately, though, I had to leave to go to Lush and the other people couldn't get the purse to become a purse, so the attempt was discarded. So sad. These children's activities are terrifically more fun than hauling glow-in-the-dark juggling diabolos and 47 copies of How to Walk in High Heels up and down a very long flight of stairs. My thighs are getting some kind of work out, let me tell ya. I suppose this is good.

Today, part of my good mood is possibly due to the fact that I worked 10 hours and the store sold over 19,000GBP worth, bringing us to level 3 -- and this means that instead of 5.35 per hour, I made 10.35 per hour! Hoorah!

Must sleep now. Am ridonkulously tired. Lots of amusing things have happened this week, but my brain is not capable of remembering them. Oh, but I will write later about the Nigerian plagiarism that I am being paid to type up.... this is amusing :)

At work tomorrow at 9.00 a.m. Hope not to have to stand by the front door on thief watch under the freezing air blower -- this is pretty pointless as I am not personally a thief and therefore do not know exactly what to look for.

Shopgirl

2006-12-07T20:15:00.000Z

Whilst I am ignorant of if this is appropriate link to Steve Martin's novella or the subsequent film or not, it seemed a good enough title for this entry. (It actually would have been better entitled yesterday, but I just couldn't be asked to do much after coming down from my bath-and-body-product induced high. This will come clear momentarily. Please standy by.)

Soooo, yesterday after tutoring two of my Korean students, I ventured forth into the insane mass of Christmas maniac-shoppers, who are the reason for my being gainfully employable at the moment -- so we love them :) Yesterday, the manageress of LUSH allowed me to do a trial shift of 2 hours, so as to see if I was more lively than a small bit of moss that might get stuck on your shoe sometimes if you hit a particularly slippy patch of sidewalk (aka, pavement). As it turns out, they did find me livelier than such a piece of flora and I was offered a job through Christmas and got to stay for 2 more hours and then for training -- which consisted of trying fabulous organic-ingrediented bath products and entering a frenzied state of fruity and floral smells. YUM!!!! Eamonn was more than a little alarmed by my excessively chipper state after work since he has never seen me in full-out bath product ecstasy mode -- rather like a kitty who has been rolling greedily in catnip. Partly this was due to all the free pressies that they gave us to try and make us enthusiastic and sell, sell, sell! I think this will work :)

Even though most of my devoted readers will not be able to come in and see this ridiculous version of Amrie for themselves, I would like to say that at first encounter, this company seems to treat its employees like people instead of slaves. If certain sales levels are reached, then the staff who worked for the day get an increase in hourly pay, and this can go as high as 10GBP an hour! (minimum wage is 5.50 -- which is what the pay is at my other job.) Additionally, all of the products are completely organic and have nifty little side-stories about the people who make them for the shops as well as, oh, say, the man in the Outer Hebrides who goes out in his little boat to harvest the seaweed for BB Seaweed; if the weather is too stormy and bad, then there is just no seaweed and therefore none of this product! Who knew?

On consideration, my appearance is actually rather mossish (even though personality judged not-so), though compared to the other employees. They are all very festive and funky and I feel very plain Jane and un-pierced. They are such great fun, though, and were all so very nice to help me get accustomed to everything. Working with good people is a positive thing!

Today, though, I started my other holly-day job at a less inspiring, although fun in it's own sort of way, store called Hawkin's Bazaar. This sells the most random and ridiculous things ('cheap tat' in Eamonn-speak, except that the prices are a little high for cheap tat.). My job does not smell as nice as at LUSH, but the people are very nice (met another American girl from Hannibal, Missouri who is going to join me, Katharine and Georgia for coffee and knitting tomorrow after work, and I am going to teach her to knit! Hoorah!) and I do get to re-stock things like Glow-in-the-dark rubber ducks, squirting novelty lighters, and miniature zen gardens. There is also a lot of straightening to do and this makes me very happy and feeds that OCD monkey.

Today was also the last day of seminar teaching at Cardiff Uni (so I decided it would also be a good time to get my staff ID made... don't ask. Maybe it will let me get discounts of some sort. My picture additionally has the added bonus of making me look like a sufferer of microencephaly. Or maybe a Hobbit.) and was also the day of my observation by the professor. Steffi thinks that her observation went so badly that she expected them to say, 'Please put your pen and papers away, leave the classroom now and we will need to have a refund of everything we have paid you so far.' I think she is judging herself too harshly, but she admits she did think of escaping at one point and running away. Poor Steffi.

So, here I am with my Master's, working as a shopgirl... and LOVING it! Now I am tired (you can tell by the diminished use of colours in my text) and must shower, eat two more Cadbury's chocolate digestive biscuits and work on the sock that is not cooperating with me. It caused me to lose my cheer last evening, when it bewitched me and made me knit it in the wrong direction after turning the heel. Evil creation. But I have put it in it's place today, since my 9.30 pupil did not show up online.

Good flyyyyy!

Llandaff Carol Service (2)

2006-12-05T22:11:00.000Z

Wow!

So, it is has a family feel when you do a holiday function a second year running :) Tonight was the Llandaff Carol Service, coordinated by Llandaff Rotary and held at Llandaff Cathedral. This event is always followed by mulled wine and mince pies, which is fantastic! (I am so relieved it is mince pie season again, and so can pork out legitimately. It just doesn't seem like a reasonable thing to buy a box of mince pies in, say, September. Esp. since this might mean not that the pies are early but are instead left-overs -- the severe price reduction also contributes to this snobbery on my part.) It was really lovely to see some of my Rotary friends from almost all of the Cardiff clubs and they claim to be pleased that I am still around. I may even have a speaking engagement soon to an Interact club :) Unfortunately, no one there works with immigration and/or Work Permits UK. hmmmm.

So, I toddled off into a windy, rainy, blustery night (which does make my face feel a bit raw at the moment), caught my bus, successfully bought my ticket, , actually changed busses by myself (well, actually, missed the 122 bus I was supposed to take since it apparently was tired and couldn't make it out of Central Station. So I stood at the stop attempting to look like I was reading the bus schedule and understanding it instead of thinking, 'Do WHAT?') and then was fortunate enough to catch another bus (the 136, I believe. Or was it the 62A?) with one of the few nice bus drivers in Cardiff, who did not bite my head off when I guessed about where I ought to be getting off and asked if mine was the next stop, The Black Lion. Indeedy, it was!

Llandaff village is quite small and has narrow streets with little sparkley shops (which were closed) and several cosy restaurants. There are also four pubs -- hee hee. But they are lovely Ye Olde Worlde Pubbes, so that is grand :) Roald Dahl attended the Cathedral School and Charlotte Church (not a great favorite of the Welsh people I have discussed this with) attended Howell's. Charlotte Church lives in Llandaff.

As was there a little early, attempted to take some pictures of the glorious clouds and the outside of the church with the lights shining through the windows. My hands just would not hold still, even when I propped the camera against something. Then, Graham and Jane came around the corner and caught me and started ribbing me for the bloody camera :) So was torn away from looking like a loitering oddball.

My neighbor upstairs really needs to do something about that sneeze. He goes, 'Raaaaa...-SHOOOO!' and it is almost like we know each other and he is in fact in my room. Fortunately he is not, as his cologne stinks up the front hall well enough.

Despite being hurried along by Graham at the end, got a really excellent shot (although still shaky) of the front of the cathedral in the dark. However, since my cable seems to be flitting about the room hiding from me and is not in its Proper Place in The Electronic Section of the Top Right-hand Drawer, I do not appear to be able to share this with my readers (who have sent me emails of inquiry whether something bad happened between me and Elvis). Yet. All will suffer my pictures eventually.

Ooh! Now the neighbor seems to have dropped his anvil on the floor....

I saw Elvis.

2006-12-01T16:26:00.000Z

He was reading the South Wales Echo.

Attire: grey trousers, lace-up rough shoes, and a blue jacket.
Hair: Black dye.
Location: a bench on Queen Street, just outside the Boots.

This should be investigated further.

Thanksgiving treatise

2006-11-30T17:29:00.000Z

Katharine has written an excellent explanation of Thanksgiving and provided a cool description of our evening!

(I suppose it's about time for me to take those photos off my camera and publish them...)

Names

2006-11-30T15:01:00.000Z

From one of my Korean students, I have learnt that people BUY names for their children... has this been mentioned before in this forum? Anyhoo, I could sooooooo do that. Anyone who has observed the cat naming process that happens when the little gerbil gets on his wheel in my mind will possibly be alarmed by this, but a group friend-and-family hypnosis session should prevent this from having a negative impact on my future entrepreneurial activity.

Well, today, my student told me that they are having a 100-day party for his son on Monday night! It is traditional to have a big party when the baby reaches this milestone. Isn't that interesting?

I thought you would think so. Here are some more interesting facts about birthday celebration across history and cultures.

Additionally, has it also been mentioned that in Columbia, your name serves as a sort of family tree? People keep the maternal and paternal names almost in perpetuity (within the limits of memory of course), so Diana's name is absolutely huge! And it would keep going if she remembered more, actually. This is pretty cool I think to keep in mind the people in your history instead of just being your own little spontaneously created planet.

Because, as James the Papa always said, 'The earth doesn't revolve around you, you know.' This was really upsetting at the moment, but then I sang All I Want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth and everything was better.

*******
Tonight, E and I are invited to dinner with my Rotarian, Graham, his wife Jane and James (his son) and Claire (his girlfriend)! At The Balti Empire (which just happens to be one of our favorite curry houses in Cardiff)! (a future rant in this space will be on the lack of a suitable English word synonymous with boyfriend/girlfriend that does not bring up images of middle school or a business enterprise... or just simple daftness, as in 'my special friend' or 'my significant other'. Blech! You know, I am leaning more and more towards the African-American morpheme, 'my boo'. Hmm. Something to consider.)

Perhaps we should have a pepper-eating contest as entertainment.
Maybe I could take wagers and make a little extra cashola.

Loosyanna Lessons for Welshies

2006-11-30T14:38:00.000Z

Sadly Blogger was being a putz last night and I was not able to share one last tidbit from the adventursome creation of delectable remnants of Thanksgiving food: Do not challenge a Louisiana native whose food choice involves pepper/garlic/hot$#*! components 99% of the time (this obviously excludes 1% desserts consumed) to a game of chicken involving a hot chili pepper. You will only hurt yourself.

Here is a sample of dialogue:
e: Hey, we have a pepper left over!
a: Yeah? That's good; save it.
e: I dare you to take a bite.
a: Do what?

e: You won't do it!

a: (rolls eyes)
e: You won't do it. I dare you, I dare you, I dare you!
a: Oh whatever. What makes it hot is the seeds. And this is just a sort of jalapeno, so it's not that bad anyway.
e: This is a HOT pepper! See, you won't do it!
a: Yes, I will.
e: No, you won't.
a: Oh, hush! (bites tip of pepper)
e: Okay, then... (bites next bit of pepper)
a: This is so silly.
e: Go on...!!!!!! Do it! Do it NOW!
a: (bites third bit of pepper) Sigh.
e: (pause) I don't think I want anymore...
a: Good. I will just have a sip o' this lil' ole glass o' water here...

[unspoken: ...now that i have made my point, which really wasn't my point in the first place, but whatever.]

e: ...maybe I'll put the pepper in this bag in the refrigerator.

a: I think that is a good idea. Stop making faces. It is not that bad.

e: I'm going to watch a big gun and fighting movie now...

a: Good for you.

[exit kitchen South]

and the feasting continues...

2006-11-29T22:49:00.000Z

So, we have a new addition to the idea list of what the hecks to do with all that turkey (props to Eamonn and his continual success in out-performing me in the kitchen, leading me to be developing repetitive strain incapacity from the knitting I do while watching him chop garlic, flail sauces about the stove, etc.). This new fantastic idea is Turkey Pizza (homemade, naturellement). Well, it is easier if you have a ready-made pizza dough, but with some sauteed peppers, chillis, onion, garlic and separately crisped-in-butter turkey shreds, you place these on top of sauce and thickly sliced mozzarella and top the whole thing with shredded country cheddar and mixed herbs, freshly chopped. Bake for 10 or so minutes. Drizzle some olive oil over the pie about 3/4 of the way through baking process for additional crisping and YUM!

On a different topic, must say that I have no idea why people reported such negative reactions to the newest film version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, as have just watched it completely (after seeing a bit last week and then having to run off to shop for Thanksgiving) and found it amazing! It was definite Tim Burton, but it had essences of Hitchhiker's Guide, The Matrix and Superman. It is much darker than the original film, but has a charming realism to it that I think reflects Roald Dahl's south Wales origins. If I haven't mentioned it before, Roald Dahl is from Cardiff!

B reports that Dahl disliked the original film as it completely missed the darkness that he intended. Dahl's second wife was even one of the producers. I liked the fact that Deep Roy (also from one of my favorite films, Big Fish) was cloned to be all of the Oompa Loompas :) From the cinema trailers, I expected to find Johnny Depp really just too bizarre for the role, but he was perfect in his neuroticism and really fits. The dialogue is sharper and very quick and the bitter puns are superb. This would be a great language analysis text.

Today's rant (which I will not repeat in its entirety here) is the fact that Virgin Mobile feels it is called for to charge .79 GBP for a phone call to a local number to the bleeding postal service (who for some reason feels the need to attempt delivery at 07.15 am -- eeediots) instead of being just a regular minute usage and therefore free. It has been explained to me that this has something to do with usage of resources of satellite versus landlines, but I think this is a load of bunk. A minute is a minute and a landline is attached to the land whether it is a special 'local rate' number or a person's house. GRRRRR!!!!!

My Life of Petty Crime

2006-11-28T18:28:00.001Z

Thanks to some recently acquired information, it appears that I am not as involved in life on the edge as previously thought. It is not illegal to jaywalk here. Oh, well. We can't be colourful forever.

So, as part of my therapeutic 2-step recovery program (knit, purl), Katharine and myself are venturing (on the friendly Cardiff Bus system!) to knitting tonight! This is exciting for several reasons: 1) it is cold and time to knit some warm items, 2) it will get us out of our respective hermitages, 3) we will be socialising with cool people and 4) I will finally make it to The Chapter Arts Centre.

******
To catch up on news:

Saturday -- GWCBT was fabulous! E got a free ticket (to Wales v. New Zealand -- I think he has been to every international...), so he dashed off and left me to eat Welsh Bake with B and Co., who took very good care of me during the game. I didn't wander off at all. New Zealand won. (It was kind of like the Wales players were the Canadian players. Kiwis are massive.)

Sunday -- Helped Maurizio and Kath move; their new house is v. cool. Right around the corner from E and B's and also has the original tiles in the entry hall. Think these houses date from mid 1800s -- E sent me an interesting link, which I have not used yet. There is also an archive in Cardiff where you can go check out the original house plans for all these places! But I digress. After helping them, used same truck to empty E's storage, which is an excellent financial decision. Hoorah for simplification.

Until people start throwing boxes down stairs in imitation of someone committing hari kari with heavy boxes down a steep flight of stairs, which has caused me and B to jump up from the living and dining rooms respectively and prepare to run for turniquettes and surgical equipment...

oooh, must run to bus stop!

Berkleys and Dukes

2006-11-25T12:53:00.000Z

When you are anticipating venturing to the Welsh Beer and Cider Festival, a good way to pass the time is watching The Dukes of Hazzard, British boxing and The A-Team, fool. You may want to bring along some knitting and be close to a computer so as to shop online for yarn as well; otherwise, you might fall sideways into a coma.

As well, E's housemate, Rob Berkley has discovered his own personal connection to Thanksgiving (one day late, so it was not able to be included in educational discussion on the actual day). His ancestors actually organised the very first Thanksgiving one year and 17 days before the Pilgrims landed in Massachusetts! It was held on Berkeley Plantation, which also claims historical interest from a number of items, including being 'the site of the first distillation of bourbon whiskey, produced by missionary George Thorpe, who declared it "much better than British ale".'

THEN to further amuse and educate ourselves last evening, we made the discovery that Berkeley Castle is really close to Cardiff (relatively speaking), on the Welsh border, and we will be planning a field trip v. soon! The castle was begun in 1117 A.D. and is the oldest continually-occupied castle in England. YAY!!!! Who knew that we were so close to someone with such an illustrious geneology?

Now that we are in an absolute twist about the Beer Festival not including free samples, it appears that the boys are almost ready to go...

Recovery.

2006-11-24T20:26:00.000Z

Fifteen people for Thanksgiving dinner. All went smoothly and buffet style was the order of the evening. Menu: maque choux, green bean casserole, cranberry relish, cornbread, mashed potatoes, gravy, sugar snap peas, sweet potato casserole, stuffing, chocolate pecan pie, fake mini punkin pies, cherry cheese pie, key lime pie. Explained the significance of the War of Northern Agression through the symbolism of food: Yankee dressing and cornbread dressing juxtaposed with a Mason Dixon line between. Stayed up v. late. Although am knackered, E's house is nearly clean :) (I have been allowed free reign alone in the house this evening, although have been slightly distracted by Sky TV movies, phoning the family and the effects of gluttony. I mean, one piece of cherry cheese pie can't just sit in a big Pyrex all by itself. That is just wasteful of space in the fridge.) Due to grand success of the feasting and the devouring of his glorious turkey (19 lbs = 4h 45m), E is already planning a Christmas indulgence for the rag-tag crowd who will be here! Hoorah!

This time, we will know about the fact that the oven has a safety feature that causes it to shut off after being on for 4 hours. This caused about ten minutes of panic and involved a vast amount of turkey and stuffing drippings to go sloshing all over the floor and interior of the oven. Once the oven rested and gained awareness that we weren't trying to burn the house down, it allowed the resumption of cooking endeavors. Appliances that try to direct the actions of people annoy me. Maybe that is just the only-child in me coming out.

Magic tricks and Christmas songs from The Chipmunks rounded the evening out nicely :)

******
Georgia and I participated in a psychology experiment involving knitting this afternoon! AND our reward is £10 worth of product from Fyberspates -- run by the researcher, who is also in the Knit'n'Bitch group (which I am so excited about going to next Tuesday!). V. cool yarns on this site (also distracting me from cleaning endeavours).

Turkey Day.

2006-11-23T17:31:00.001Z

Just a couple more hours til the feast!

Turkey stuffed and in oven. Supplemental dishes were prepped last night. A lot of imagination went into them, and a couple of things completely forgotten about. I have no earthly idea why cooking sherry was purchased. But whatever. Perhaps a little nip in style of Julia will make everything okay.

It is my studied opinion that butternut squash in no way resembles the texture of yellow summer squash and some nonsensical thing called a carnival squash is just a pumpkin in disguise. E kindly agreed to be emmisary to veg shop for zucchini (courgettes, whatever) and returned with flowers and wine as well. Cooking proceeded nicely. Since there was not pumpkin pie filling available in the store, I made the commanding decision to create my own version of it combining a recipe from Oma and an online one. E thinks it looks like some undesirable leaking from an infant. Heh heh heh.

House has been tidied by E (how swell is her to have taken day off work and helped me? Also toodled me from uni to his house and, by chance, Katharine to big Tesco to find cranberries -- he is just fab). All of the to-go menus that get shoved through the door in ever-increasing numbers are in the rubbish bin. Movies are all in their appropriate shelving units. I am about to light candles (this has been called unmasculine, but then, I don't think that really is such a bad thing if i do the lighting).

Turkey was stuffed by a happy elf. It has been cooking for four and half hours now and the floor is coated in a convenient layer of grease from the several basting events. Thanksgiving is supposed to test people's balancing skills, right? Maybe we should go a bit slow on the sherry...

B has come in from work fainting from hunger and hintingly hoping that Thanksgiving involves hors d'oeuvres. I explained that there would have been a cheese ball except for the fact that chipped beef in a jar is not to be located. He thought briefly about licking the kitchen floor because the smell was too fabulous. E has has pity and fed him cheese on toast (his own inimitable recipe that people really should whine until they are privileged to have this prepared for them).

...from the latest basting. Oooh, it's GOOORgeous!

It is pouring down rain outside... but that makes it cosier, I think.

The Carpenters are good to listen to for cosiness effect as well. Someone appears to have allowed Louis Armstrong into the house as it sounds like he has decided to sing along with The Carpenters. This is just wrong.

Turkey day is almost here!

2006-11-21T12:18:00.000Z

The turkey is thawing on the table in the back garden. It is v. cold, so this should be safe and a nice slow thaw.

Cornbread pan is ready for the first batches (for the Southern dressing. Katharine is taking care of the Yankee dressing, Auntie Karen) this evening!

We (the royal we. Or the schitzophrenic we.) have discovered that people here do not know what graham crackers are. The confusing thing about this is that Golden Grahams are familiar and available here... hmmmm. (and I insist that this word -- graham -- does have two syllables, not one! and it may even have three...) Since graham cracker crust is not an option, I am going to attempt to make crust with crushed tea biscuits for one pie and crushed shortbread for the other. Other things we have found: Carnation makes condensed milk (and it is sweet even though it doesn't say so); corn starch is the same thing as corn flour; 14 oz. equals 405 g; it is annoying that recipes call for portions of 'sticks of butter' when butter is inconveniently not sold in stick form; am not positive that will be able to locate yellow summer squash -- various people keep suggesting butternut squash, but this does not sound right to me; I may have to make some sort of attempt at pumpkin pie filling myself. Alternatively, I will not make tiny pumpkin chiffon pies at all. I don't think we are going to be short on food for the next three weeks.

In preparation for the beginning of the Feasting Season, E created (as usual) impressive dinner

last night of free-range chicken breasts, stuffed with garlic and butter and wrapped in streaky bacon (v. much like American bacon), pan cooked eggplant (aubergine, yeah whatever) with a mixture of worcester sauce, mushroom ketchup (amazing stuff!) chilis, olive oil and some other stuff that I missed, beans, potatoes AND a starter of giant mushrooms stuffed and baked with Brussels pate. I washed dishes in preparation for the beginning of the three-day cooking endeavour.

This evening (which begins at 4.23, since it is nearly dark at that time), I may make excursion to purchase Pyrex baking dishes and some pie plates...

Vexation and beaching

2006-11-19T13:56:00.000Z

When one's computer crashes due to spyware from MySpace (that filthy spy-riddled site) after one has written quite a long blog entry, this really has an amazing effect on one's psyche. And this is generally negative and should be avoided in company.

Yet, this happened last night and made us late for a very important date (with the Italians). I am only now able to look at Blogger without reproach after almost 24 hours, even though this time it does not appear to be Blogger's fault.

So, this entry will not be as spicy and fun as the other one...

Anyhoo, after E finished squiring his mam, Katharine and myself around the craft show (during which he wasn't entirely miserable since he had 9,745 songs on his Walkman to drown out the sounds of 48,298 females voices whittering around our path through the booths. He also managed to amuse himself with purchases of whiskey and cheese. I am v.v. proud of self since I bought no yarn; although some chic little stitch markers caused me to fumble and are now part of my brilliant collection of objets de knit), the sun had come out. Although it rained about three times yesterday, and had hailed twice in 15 hours, the sun between was just gorgeous! (Apparently, yesterday morning, there was SNOW in the valleys! Oh maybe we will have another White Thanksgiving! And I will write a song.)

Anyhoo, since it was so lovely, it was decided that a trip to the beach was in order. After all, we missed a whole weekend last weekend... On the way, though, we stopped off at Cosmeston Lakes, an old limestone quarry, which is now a park. We ventured into a large mass of bird life, clamouring for food of any sort: cameras, buttons, small dogs. When children appear with bags of bread, chaos is unavoidable when 40 swans are about. Swans are saucy and like to pose for pictures.

Then to the beach, but a different beach than the last pictures. The Captain's Wife is a pub on the mainland just past Penarth and right across from Sully Island; we have been there before, but sadly minus camera, rendering this return really crucial. The beach here is all pebble, no sand, and Sully Island is a tidal island only connected during low tide. This island has the second highest rate of tidal rise and fall in the world, rendering it a bit dangerous to risk staying out on the island too long. I have not ventured there yet, but, oh yes, I fully intend to do so. There is reportedly a track of dinosaur prints there, the only one of its kind in Britain!

Amongst the detritus of the beach, some cool bricks with the maker marks readable seemed to me to foretell a presence in my room as bookends. This process quite bemused E, so he pretended that I was just a crazy stranger following him. When this didn't work, he attempted to shame me into leaving these grand finds behind by telling me that people in a van were watching me, but this technique did not work. I have three bricks :)

It was bitterly cold and blustery, and following the photographic and masonry excursion, we went into The Captain's Wife to recover with some mussels in white wine sauce and a Guinness. During this respite, E managed to discover within 15 minutes features on my camera that have escaped my skill over the past 15 months. This embarrassed me slightly, and so while he returned to the beach to try the settings changes, I got my knitting out and busied myself :)

Then it was sunset (picture courtesy of E). And time to get back and try to Blog before going to dinner with the Italian contingent (but we know how that turned out)

Dinner was at Y Mochyn Du (The Black Pig). This is a genuinely Welshy pub on the western side of Bute Park, by Sophia Gardens. Excellent atmosphere and a great combination of Welsh and other traditional dishes. Pate is irrestistible at any time, so we definitely got that, and then also split laverbread and cockles (delish!!!!!) and Welsh Rarebit (which is an admittedly good but overrated dish. It is toast with a mixture of cheese, ham and onion -- woo hoo). There was a piano, which proved too irresistible to a certain showman (it is my studied opinion that we will perhaps have musical entertainment at Thanksgiving...). Rugby was on, and France was beaten by New Zealand, and, finally, knitting was discussed by nearly everyone, with varying degrees of interest.

*********

Today, I have visited the big Tesco (ick) and purchased a v. massive turkey; found that corn syrup is not available in this country nor is cherry pie filling; joined the Cardiff Stitch'n'Bitch group online and made plans to attend their next knitting night at The Chapter on the 28th; received confirmation that Lindsey Cousine will be visiting the week before Christmas (oh, hoorah! Planning and entertainment! Christmas Markets, castles and cousines!); met Kath and Katharine at Shot in the Dark for some knitting and therapy; and planned to make Mexican for dinner... (pause) But have just realised that I have no avocado.... bloody vexation.

Wales v. Canada, eh?

2006-11-18T08:33:00.000Z

Oh, you betcha! So, last night's international game had a crowd of 74,022. Millennium Stadium capacity is 75,000. Two seats next to Ciara, Mark, E and me were empty for the first half, so we had Maurizio come down from 6 rows up to sit with us; and guess who decided to turn up? Idiots. Oh well. I think it might have been Mauri's first rugby game! We sent E down a row to another empty seat so he could have a chin wag with more people as his temper had been a little OTT during the first half due to Welsh team's slow start :) The second half was much more coherently played and since the end score was 61-26, everyone was much more pleasant to be around than they were when Canada was first on the board.

Even though the score had such a big spread, it was actually a really good game and I think part of my companions' disgruntlement was due to the Canadian team putting up a better fight than expected. The Canadians made a valiant effort, but the Welsh players just massively outclass them in size and so a common sight was one Welsh player with the ball continuing to run ten yards with three or four Canadian attempted tackles flailing behind like flags in the breeze. At least one of the Wales' tries was due to a scrum just being shoved over the line from about 5 yards out. The Welsh players pretty much bowled through the Canadian line like a platoon of tanks. There were two really close tries that required much monitor replay and thought -- it was a well-played game (says the girl who really hasn't a clue what she's talking about).

The flood of humanity in the closed off streets after a game is really cool. Maurizio thought it was impressive because there is such a family atmosphere and people can take kids to games. This is not possible in Italy at football matches because there is so much violence. He maintained this thought calmly until he ended up in the middle of a small pack of 8-year-old boys who were practicing their rugby tackles on each other as someone's mom tried to herd them down Castle Street :) No, but seriously, there is a strong family atmosphere in the stands at rugby matches, where people actually interact with their kids instead of just hauling them along like so much baggage.

********

Dingy-boingy!

This is the word of the day (today, Saturday). If you substitute this for anything you want to say, whilst using normal inflections, it sounds like Caveman talk.

Today (Saturday), E is collecting myself, his mam, and possibly Katharine, and taking us to the Creative Stitches and Hobbycraft show! I have just one word: YARN! Well, there is this Knitted Garden exhibition, which I think will be a bit Over The Top, but whatever floats people's boats.

WoD

2006-11-17T09:55:00.000Z

Well, there are actually two words for us to learn today.

It appears that in British culture, there are two camps of tea drinkers: Miffers and Tiffers.

Miffers put milk in the cup first and then add tea. I have myself read that this is to scald the milk slightly, giving a smoother flavour. The correct setting in which to be a miffer is when the tea is made in a pot (posh), NOT when one is using a tea bag (pleb), as the cold milk tends to prevent the proper brewing of the tea bag. (British tea drinkers are quite convinced that American tea is horrid because Americans do not boil the water enough before beginning the brewing process.)

Tiffers (as one may have already cleverly realised) put tea in their cups before adding milk. I have no personal knowledge of reasoning for this.

It has been reported to me by a life-long tea consumer that there is great debate between these two camps, although the subtlety of the need for argument escapes me. Perhaps as a group we could have some input from readers revealing a bit of self-analysis and their personal reasons behind their decisions. I have diagnosed myself as a Moderate in this debate, as I do both due to my unwillingness to be bothered.

Rainy season

2006-11-14T19:22:00.000Z

Perhaps it is time to figure out how to use the dryer that we bought from E, and which is just sitting in the middle of the living room collecting magazines and dust. Dust, anyone? Dust? It appears to be time to do some linen wash...

It is now back to the time of year when it is completely dark dark at 4.30pm. This is fine, although it inspires hibernative qualities in myself. Esp. when a certain kitty happens to come to my window and mew pitifully to come inside for shelter from the rainy season. We have to hide this from Diana...

Really ought to have written more recently as life has involved such excitement as: knitting, seeing Dawny, going to lectures, a large mold patch growing on my wall, tutoring online English students from Korea (am now up to four students! Hoorah!), listening to Christmas music, introducing Wirish persons to The Chipmunks (this web site, though, annoys me, because this is the new, modern Chipmunks. NOT the same...), interpreting the lyric: '...thister Thusie thittin' on a thisthle...', knitting, venison dinners (this was the basic spawning of the idea, although there was no cherry sauce and some further additives were included in the marinade -- gin and organic whisky -- and an absolutely perfect mushroom sauce was created), planning Thanksgiving with Katharine, watching Steffi make penguins for a clever Advent Calendar for Alex (they are made out of loo rolls and will be living on an iceberg), knitting, venturing to the BIG Tesco with the great unwashed, surviving this (it is rawther like going to Wal-Mart at 2.30 in the afternoon on Memorial Day Saturday-- not to be undertaken by anyone with a short temper or an aversion to people acting like milling sheep.), taking a native Cardiffian to Riverside Real Food Market when that person had never been dragged there before, and, oh, knitting.

Very proud to have a new sign to share. This is from journey to BigTesco. HAHAHAHA! Someone calm the poor door down. (I whined and begged and stamped my foot until E took the picture for me with his phone; this had the effect of making him look very touristy instead of me, as is usually the case. I didn't really stamp my foot. Thank you, Eamonn.)

Excellent chat and coffee during Dawn's mid-semester visit from Hudders. Georgia the Greek has a new haircut and it is charming; she is on a health kick and I feel like a slothy sloth right now. Katharine is becoming frustrated with job search, although a remarkable chocolate pecan pie is planned for Turkey Day! Dawn is amazed at how it is like being on a different planet in Yorkshire; she can't understand what people say and everything is just foreign. She feels like perhaps she knows a bit of what it was like for Katharine and myself to move 5000 miles away from our homes last year, and she is only 5 hours away.

Culture shock is a cool and totally unanticipatable phenomenon, even if it is anticipated. It is cool in the way that your brain has to make all of these slight adjustments and actually manages to do this. Everybody finds a different way to cope or else they hate life and the new culture and everyone they meet, except other whingers. But if you are open, your brain is so adaptable and allows you to survive without going mad -- even if you feel you might cross over at any moment. That moment, too, shall pass. For the first three months, I felt in a total daze, although mostly a confused, happy one. It was just like things were just really bizarre like in a film when they put that lens on that makes the edges go fuzzy (no idea what this is called, though am sure that someone techy in my acquaintance does know this and can leave a comment for us all to learn something.). Then one day, it was like life started to be real again, maybe Christmas or Lisa and Ben's visit, and everything was normal and had edges again. And then I began my dissertation -- hahahaha.

Okay. Must now stop introverted analysis of self.
And get back to knitting!!!!

(Oh, and guess what! Since Google has meshed interface -- or whatever. I know I am failing to sound clued in. -- with Blogger, it seems to allow pictures to be posted. Hoorah! AND, there is a handy-dandy link to my blog login from my Google page, thereby saving crucial kilocalories and needless key strokes.)

Slugs

2006-11-08T10:57:00.000Z

They are not cute like snails. And snails are not really cute unless they are in a fish tank serving a purpose or in a cartoon and happen to use meowing vocalisations.

That stupid slug is still sneaking in and poodling about my floor at night. If anyone has any additional suggestions for having him suffer either a horrible death or be repelled from my room permanently, I would appreciate them. He is not trapped by bowls of beer. He is not impeded by a trail of salt around the area of access... I just don't know what to do!

Like mother...

2006-11-08T09:39:00.000Z

Several characteristics been noticed by my hyperactive mind this morning that lead me to believe that I am turning into my mama:

I have begun wearing houseslippers.
There is a packet of tissues in my purse.
Lists have become a necessary part of my life.
I vacuum more than once a month.
Dirty dishes annoy me.
A dirty stove should be punishable by flogging.
There is the uncontrollable urge to phone people and be overly cheerful at them very early in the morning when I am fully aware that they are still sleeping.

...dear me :)

Love your bum.

2006-11-07T17:30:00.000Z

And we are not talking about persons who may try to make your acquaintance in the street, although admittedly I have had that happen from time to time... Just today, in fact, I met a nutty little old lady in the Post Office named Christine... but I digress :)

So, in our continuing analysis (or maybe just observation -- I don't really have time for analysis right now, and it's not going to help me make any more money at the moment) of British signage, we may also want to include product packaging. Today's exhibit is a result of my refreshment of the loo rolls (aka, toilet paper, etc.). In my most recent cost saving excursion, I lowered my standards and went to a store with a 'funwithwords' name, Kwik Save (just the typing of it gives me chills), where I purchased nine (9) rolls for like a pound ninety-nine (hoorah). This brand is quilted and is 'available in a range of great colours designed specifically to match your bathroom' and is the Velvet brand -- it is actually pretty good. The amusing part comes when you read more of the writing on the back.

Their motto appears to be 'love your bum' -- this being my guess because of the little TM which immediately follows this phrase.

And then there is this little offer of concilliatory action in case the product is not acceptable:

If you feel that this product doesn't care for your bum enough,

please let us know by sending this pack and its contents FREEPOST to:

Velvet (R) Bum Care Department

SCA Hygiene Products UK Limited

Freepost ANG 5856

Dunstable, LU6 3YY

... blah blah blah.

Maybe I can get a job in the Bum Care Department. I wonder what your business cards say if you work in the Bum Care Department. Do you get letterhead? I will chuckle now.

Frosty McFrosterton

2006-11-06T20:17:00.000Z

This would be as both a literal frostiness of one's fingers due to one's gloves (not one pair, but two) having been stolen from one's panniere bags, one thinks whilst one was at church yesterday, and as a psychological frostiness of soul towards the flipping t'ieving heathens who stole them. This has put me in a rather difficult mood.

Hopefully, we will see an end to the fireworks tonight as well (Bonfire Night, aka Guy Fawkes Night was last night and so the weekend was rather explosive). I must agree with Dawny at her weariness in two night of solid fireworks in one's living space. Although it seems to me to have been at least two weeks here...

So it is a good thing that I am sitting here listening to Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and ripping a hem out of some pajama trousers that are too short.

On a more humourous note (and a slightly disappointed note, as I thought it would be a hoot to go), I seem to have missed the record-breaking Jones's Family Reunion here in Cardiff this past Friday. It had rather been a hope of mine that my own Jones-ish family members might select this prime opportunity to visit Cardiff, but I am afraid that I would only have been a surrogate Jones representative had I been able to go. Oh well :)

Had a new student join me today online -- now have three students, two of whom I meet five days a week. It is really rather fun, although it might be more fun were payment in GBP rather than USD.

Steffi has gone to Germany for the week. She awoke deathly ill yesterday, so we hope she will not have a miserable trip.

We also have yet another reason to either not visit Paris or else hire large handsome personal bodyguards if we should. My friend, Kneece, who is teaching English to French children in Cherbourg this year, and her sister were beaten up by some North African French teenagers in the middle of the street on Saturday evening right after having dinner. This adds to my frostiness of soul towards mean-spirited 'human' imposters. Let us throw peas at them.

It has now been established as a result of a rather extensive scientific experience that the cleaner a duvet and set of linens is, the more flakes will fall off of chocolate bars and establish themselves as part of the decor.

The Rugby

2006-11-04T12:20:00.000Z

One becomes aware of the fact that the adult male of the species is really only a little boy with more money and a larger clothes size when a phone call allows for two tickets to a game involving a ball and lots of blood. Actually, this is a bit simplified of an explanation, because the game really is quite important as it is an international, and a crowd of 76,000 people is expected. Katherine Jenkins will be recording with the largest backup crowd or something...

Today is the Wales v. Australia game, the air is crisp, and the sky is a gorgeous sunny blue.

I have been brought appropriate attire, instructed to wear it and am about to leave my house in a big red rugby shirt to meet the rest of the posse, who have been at it since 11am.
(Rugby shirts make you look fat.)

Frost!

2006-11-02T22:19:00.000Z

This morning, there was frost on the grass. Or at least I think that is what that white sparkly appearance intimated... Skimble was perched on the patio/yard barrier step in a most puffy-kitty-who-needs-warming manner. There was a little trail of darker green tracks through the grass leading to the hunched kitty. Steffi would not let him sit on her computer on her lap to warm up and so it was left to me to emerge in my pajamas and give him a nice long cuddle (until my toes began to feel numb and more tea was required).

Cold makes people in a silly mood :) Or it just inhibits their ability to think and walk normally due to large puffy jackets muffling their awareness of those around them or perhaps the stricture of scarves diminishing aural perception of items in near proximity -- such as cars or cyclists.

Today's seminars were enjoyed by one group and absolutely NOT by the other. So disappointing. Was very proud to get all names correct in first group; second group attempt was not so hot, perhaps 40%. They are a little surlier, though, and so not so memorable. One task was to invent a nonsense word, create a dictionary entry for it (complete with IPA transcription, inflections, part(s) of speech, definition(s), etc.). Then create two nonsense definitions for it and try to get the class/studio audience to guess the correct definition. I kind of agree with the second group that it was senseless since the 'definitions' were nonsense in the first place, but still, kids -- suspend some belief and let yourself have some fun! The first group had so much fun and came up with the words:

frun (v. -- which means 'to run in a funny manner')
scrynge (n. -- which means 'a small amount of something')
shiress (v. -- which means 'to scrimble up a piece of paper and make it crumply')

The second word is a term actually used by one girl's family in the East Midlands, but is not officially a word :) I told her she should document it and go on Balderdash and Piffle to have it added to the OED. But she should get that host to wear a bloody different coat -- that pink pea coat got on my everliving nerve.

Our second task was to think about prototypical words, along the lines of the question of what makes some birds birdier than others (or fruits fruitier, or weapons weapony, or vehicles vehicley, etc.). Readers should try to think of some of your own and be prepared to present them to the group at our next meeting (or on the comment section as the case may be).

Linens and Things

2006-11-01T08:58:00.000Z

It has come to my attention (as things so rarely do in a timely manner) that there is a darn good reason for having two duvet covers and two sets of sheets and pillow cases in this country. This is especially true if one does not have a dryer and the sun is not predictable in shining. On the positive side of having a sole linen set is the discipline that this tends to instill in planning ahead and doing one's laundry around http://www.weather.co.uk/, but that can really only get you so far in the approaching rainy season whilst allowing you to remain within civilised and olfactorily-aware society. And I have never been much of a gambler (although I do like the song). When it is rainy, one may try to make do with two-week old laundered bed linens, but something deep inside my mind tells me this is not good practice when one considers the veritable army of microbes in our world. And I think there must be even more invisible creatures here, because I don't think I have ever seen a house spontaneously create dust as the Golden Girls' House does (Steffi came up with this one!). Dust, anyone? Have some dust.

The verdict from this rant in my head is that I think it is a good idea to go and find another linen set. Today it appears to be thinking of being sunny, so I am doing my linen wash. We shall see if all is dry by bedtime...

Addendum: How has a comment instantly appeared on this post from someone I do not know? Why do they want to promote my blog? Are they going to steal bonnieblue's identity? Why have I just been notified of a comment sent on Sunday by Katharine? Snoop-Dogg has just walked past my house. AM out.

Addendum ad nauseum: (Think that is how you would spell it -- this reminds me of letters I would write when I was little and I would keep forgetting things to put in the letter and the end of the letter would have all of these post-scripts, up to ridiculous numbers like p.p.p.p.p.s.) But it would be a travesty not to note the Injury of the Week: This week's injury has been brought to you by the IKEA IDEALISK Grater (£2.49). When this handy kitchen implement flies off a hook towards a person not wearing their padding and that person attempts to catch the missile, it can be unfortunate. Especially if the injury is sustained by the pinky finger, right on the corner of the side of the fingernail. This causes one to type with one's pinky in the air and does not exactly improve speed or accuracy.

Ghoti and Chips

2006-10-29T10:28:00.000Z

Yes, indeedy. We did have ghoti and chips at Thursday night's quiz (and am fully aware that not one but two days have now passed since the explanation was expected). Well, I had to have chicken, because some great thieving soul took what they hadn't ordered. As clever readers may have surmised at this point, ghoti does indeed sound like fish, if you consider the following:

the gh that is in enough
the o that is in women
the ti that is in nation

This gives us f-i-sh. This example in support of spelling reform is generally attributed to George Bernard Shaw, but Wikipedia disputes this.

Many impressed nods and offers of coffee to Katharine for her submission for the phonemic task of Thursday as well. Here is another little game to impress friends at parties: How many different pronunciations are there for -ough?

So, we totally lost at quiz night. But we had an absolutely grand time! Our team was quite international, which could have had something to do with our low score -- Maurizio, Steffi, Alex, Diana, her mom Claudia (visiting from Columbia, if I haven't mentioned that before), Eamonn and moi. Due in part to my amazing (although I could stand some improvement) animation awareness, we were the only team to get 10 out of 10 on the 'Identify the Famous Rabbits' section -- I had to argue quite vociferously in favor of The Energizer Bunny (not the Duracell Bunny) and of Rabbit from Winnie the Pooh. Claudia and Diana thought it was great fun, even though the English was being spoken at rather too high a rate of speed and so they had no idea what the questions were. They especially like the fiesty little old ladies, who were present in abundance.

Back to the initial topic of ghoti, Jasper and Carrot are well on their way to becoming 'top drawer' snobby fish. They have moved up in the world to a new penthouse tank, which E sensibly recommended and helped me to buy since a) they still have not died and b) the water problem was becoming quite stressful. Online yesterday, I read that goldfish are not supposed to be kept in bowls, actually... They were transplanted last night and are really funny swimming around in about three times the volume of water as they had before. I think the comment was, 'Your fish are on crack.' Sometimes a piece of food gets caught in the downdraft of water flow and Jasper goes speedily chasing it in a nosedive to the bottom :) Think shall have to get more snails as there is only one left, due to my cleaning efforts, no doubt and the fact that you just forget that snails are there since their personalities are so subdued. To make up for this fact, I became a victim of marketing and got a Gary the Snail to make up for this species lack.

Still on topic (because I am known for my ability to stay on topic and focussed), saw no fish (or sharks) washed up on the beach yesterday. There were ducks in the water; who knew that ducks swam in the ocean? Yes, we went again. YAY!!!!!! But yesterday, went to a new part of the same beach which is in Porthkerry Park. The part where we got to the beach is close to the viaduct train bridge, on around towards the side where the airport is. The park itself is really big and the beach is only a small part of it. Lots of people had brought their dogs out, even though it was a rubbish misty day yesterday. It was also slightly chilly, as you may see on pics in flickr (which shall be linked here in a couple of hours since, yet again Blogger Photo is rebelling).

This part of the beach is also pebble (aka, large rocks which can be hazardous and slide if you are going either down or up hill from the beach. This though seems to be funny if noone gets hurt and gives other people things to do like make noises of stupidity at the sliding, flailing person.). The sandy part is much more narrow than the other part of the beach we have visited before (although the tide was coming in) and there are more of the flat rock surface under and instead of sand. This flat rock surface is really coolly carved out, presumably from centuries of water. Although, i suppose i could be wrong. Not only is it carved into what looks like purposefully-laid stones, but there are carvings in layers as well, which makes handy steps for clambering up and down large outcrops, between which waves are coming in and making plumes into the air. It is really challenging to catch a wave plume with a camera when this camera thinks before it snaps.

Now to format these pictures and get stuff on Flickr. Have pics from Norwich as well, so perhaps next blog should be a description of Norwich...

Prajong

2006-10-26T16:34:00.000+01:00

Why is someone named Prajong calling me?

Why is the earth spherical?

There are just no absolute answers for some things.

Another query would be why whilst am getting ready for quiz night, my view in the mirror (I mean, I don't just sit around contemplating my visage all day) reveals a 1.5 inch vertical cut on my neck... This alarms me as I have no recollection of this injury. I did ride a pedal bike today but unless I suffered a crash that produced amnesia, no trauma was suffered. I don't think I have run into anything...

Tutored two Korean people online in English this afternoon -- this seems to be going well. Esp. after yesterday's vocal demonstration of anger at the utter ridiculosity that is MSN Messenger. That has got to be the worst program ever and just so happens to be that interface that FaceToFace uses for tutelage.

In additional instructional news, today's seminar groups are my less talkative ones but they actually responded to stimulus (not poking with stick, merely phonemic transcription)! Hoorah for making people have fun when Language is not their primary course! Also having a voice possibly helped.

Because I am a) lazy and b) need to take in the washing, will fill up space with poem from which words were transcribed in seminars. It is amusing and will allow much discussion on the following topics to start: different sounds can be produced by the same combination of letters; different combinations of letters can produce the same sound. For a secondary exercise, clever readers may wish to try to find how many ways one can spell (in English) the sound represented by the 'o' in to. (hint: there are at least 10)

Then you may wish to consider how you might order Ghoti and chips when ordering a fried seafood accompanied by a potato product. (explanation tomorrow).

Now to the poem (goodness, brain is flitty today):

Anonymous poem,
based on 'Chaos' by G. Nolst Trenite

We'll begin with box, and the plural is boxes;
But the plural of ox should be oxen, not oxes.
Then one fowl is goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.

You may find a lone mouse or a whole lot of mice,
But the plural of house is houses, not hice.
If the plural of man is always called men,
When couldn't the plural of pan be called pen?

The cow in the plural may be cows or kine,
But the plural of vow is vows, not vine.
And I speak of a foot, and you show me your feet,
But I give a boot -- would a pair be called beet?

If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?
If the singular is this and plural is these,
Why shouldn't the plural of kiss be called kese?

Then one may be that, and three may be those,
Yet the plural hat would never be hose;
We speak of a brother, and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.

The masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!
So our English, I think you will agree,
Is the trickiest language you ever did see.

I take it you already know
Of tough and bough and cough and dough?
Others may stumble, but not you
On hiccough, thorough, slough and through.

Well done! And now you wish, perhaps
To learn of less familiar traps?
Beware of heard, a dreadful word
That looks like beard and sounds like bird.

And dead; it's said like bed, not bead;
For goodness' sake, don't call it deed!
Watch out for meat and great and threat.
(They rhyme with suite and straight and debt.)

A moth is not a moth in mother,
Nor bother in bother, broth in brother.
And here is not a match for there.
And dear and fear for bear and pear.

And there's close and rose and lose --
Just look them up -- and goose and choose.
And cork and work and card and ward,
And font and front and word and sword.

And do and go, then thwart and cart.
Come, come, I've hardly made a start.
A dreadful language? Why, man alive,
I'd learned to talk it when I was five,

And yet to write it, the more I tried,
I hadn't learned it at fifty-five.

Bunnies, beaches and bears. Oh my.

2006-10-25T17:57:00.000+01:00

Where in the world to begin. There is also the choice of the alliteration of C: croci, Columbian dinner and Cold Knap. But I like B, being slightly biased...

Well, let's begin with things in chronological order. Bears need sweaters. Teddy bears need sweaters ever more so since they are inanimate and therefore inactive and therefore colder. And people who are swivetting for a variety of reasons need to knit small projects so as to feel speedy sense of accomplishment and also amuse themselves with others' raised eyebrows. (pictures of various and sundry items in this blog will be inserted later. the writing must get done. Oh, unless of course Blogger is being an idiot as usual in which case links to items will be inserted, confusing people between the links to other sites and the links to Flickr... mwah ha ha ha.)

Croci are popping out all over town. They are purple and quite pretty.

On Saturday night, Diana and her mom cooked us a lovely dinner of traditional Columbian food -- starters were platanos (or plantains), which were made into these little fried crisp sort of things and on which you put a yummy hot mixture of chopped onion, tomato and cheese. The top of my mouth was horribly burned due to my excessive greed. Mains was a soup called Ajiaco made from a base of broth and coriander (aka, cilantro) with potato. A certain type of potato was supposed to be used: papa pastusa and papa criolla, but those are not available here. In Columbia, there are like 8 types of potato and each one has a specific usage in different recipes. There was also supposed to be another spice, called guascas, but this was not to be found in Cardiff. Then there were little bowls of additions that you could make as you liked -- chicken, avocado, cream, capers, corn. Mmmmm! Then... dessert was bocadillo con queso y aerequipe. Bocadillo is possibly the most delectable thing. It is basically made from a paste of guava, which is allowed to dry in the style of lemon squares, before being cut into squares. These squares are then wrapped in banana leaves, so it is kind of like opening a little present before you eat each one! This can be eaten with cheese (queso doble crema was what was supposed to be used, but again...) or smeared with a lovely dollop of aerequipe. Or you can make a trilogy of flavour and roll your eyes back in bliss.

Sunday's excursionary activity in the rain began with some religious activity and then proceeded to indulgent comfort food at the Castell Mynach -- I had Toad in the Hole. Which was a good thing since the beach was the next brain storm, and this activity was quite literally carried out in a storm. E made some silly statement about turning around and being surprised by some mad person running halfway to the beach in the freezing driving rain. But if we hadn't gone to the beach, we wouldn't have seen these tiny shark-like creatures' carcasses washed up. It is my Wikipedia informed opinion that these were Spiny Dogfish Sharks. Their skin feels like a cat tongue crossed with rubber -- very interesting. Of course I touched it... And we would not have figured out that rain causes rock slides close to cliffs. Therefore, you should not go looking for overhangs to shelter under or you might get a smack on the top of your head. Fortunately injury was not part of the activity.

Monday, left a bit late, but... headed to Norwich! Hoorah! Lovely train journey, with lots of knitting. Sat across from the cutest little boy with a mop of blond curls to die for on the Cardiff-London leg -- he was very well-behaved and stared at my knitting like it was the most bizarre thing ever and also sang Don't Stop Me Now periodically and was just generally terribly precious.

On the London-Norwich leg, I don't think there exists a geographical area with more bunnies. There was one field with at least 200 bunnies flitting their tails into the air and grazing (or whatever rabbits do) all over the bloody place. Unless am terribly mistaken, also think spied my first rabbit warren. It was this embankment area along the railway with tons and tons of holes and some of these holes had bunnies sitting next to them. Also lots of pheasants. Although I do not think they live in holes.

Had super lodging at UEA and got settled in in time for dinner in Norwich with Yuko, one of the Rotary Scholars in Norwich this year, and Mat, my amusing antipathistic attorney friend who is also the son of one of the Cardiff Bay Rotarians.

After a meeting yesterday morning, walked the 25 minutes into town from campus instead of taking bus, just because I wanted to take a picture of a certain sign that had amused me the day before. The good side was that I found the sign as well as some other ones -- these are official signage displayed beneath 20mph speed signs, no doubt to signify the presence of small children as incentive to mind the speed. Norwich is a lovely medieval city on the River Wensum, that is pretty much the focal point of East Anglia. It is remarkably clean and very ye olde worlde, although not as much so as York. There are approximately 300 pubs and about 50 churches (although this number used to be higher) -- Mat informs me that this is to take care of people by providing a pub for nearly every day of the year and a church for every week.

Failed to locate Norwich Yarn shop (where they actually have an open knitting session on Tuesday mornings), but managed to console self at brilliant yarn merchant in the marketplace in the centre. Hoorah for brilliant yarn merchants!

After walking past castle to C of E Cathedral and poodling about there for nearly two hours, as I am wont to do in old churches; met Mat to go to the Belgian Monk, a marvelous pub which I sadly did not take picture of. This means I shall have to go back methinks. As the name suggests, they serve an impressive number of Belgian brews. I had Grimbergen Dubbel, very tasty and rich. These beers come in half pints because they are so strong. Mmmmm!

Caught 4.30 train back to London, where was to meet Helene at 6.45, after dash from 6.24 arrival at Liverpool Street to Farringdon so as to go to The Bishop's Finger in Smithfield. Yet again, I was the victim of conversational assault. This person was not horrible, but it is just fascinating to me how people will insist on talking to me. Helene says it is because I smile. After got on Tube, had thought that perhaps I would not be allowed to get out the barriers and then get back in to continue journey to Paddington. This is where an accent comes in handy. I promise I wasn't trying to be an idiot girl, but the Underground people were so nice to me, and this during the end of rush hour. Fab.

Managed to catch 9.15 train (which was the last one, I think -- whew!) after tripping up stairs whilst running to train at Paddington, after the Underground train did a couple of 'Let's just sit completely still for 5 minutes.' not once but twice on the cross town journey.

Got in at 11.53 pm, which is always a great time to have a Balti Kashmiri curry from the place around the corner when the Chinese place that you have been craving for several hours happens to have closed at 11.30 pm. So sad. And yet so happy!

Today's post-production forecast is that it has rained all day.
Tutored my first Korean student online.
Had new hob installed (finally).
Jasper and Carrot got new water.
I hate MSN Messenger.

The Borat movie sneak preview was sold out before yesterday and so we do not have tickets. Boo.

And finally, to introduce foreigners to Pot Noodle. Pot Noodle is a brand of cheap and easy noodle (shock) similar to Ramen or Cup o' Noodles. Apparently, it is also the Fuel of Britain. This is a most entertaining website and will also provide persons interested in the Welsh accent with some fantastic examples of language. For persons intending to visit me anytime in the near future, this would be useful preparation as the Welsh accent does take some getting used to, although in quite the most charming way. Additionally, there is a little game that will allow people at dull jobs to waste some valuable company time. Sounds like great fun, innit?

Waltzing Excavators

2006-10-21T09:24:00.000+01:00

But, yes, synchronised excavator waltzing on The Discovery Channel. It is kind of amazing. This is on a show about how similar to the human body are large machines like excavators, most specifically, excavators (ha).

So, cannot find picture online of this, but it is about 8-10 large armed excavator machines lined up and twirling and waving their arms and digger heads to The Blue Danube. This amuses me greatly, as does the operator being able to have the head retrieve an egg and gingerly placing it in an egg container, and I recommend this show to all, even if unable to locate show description on web.

One challenging thing about this is that I am trying to watch this without my glasses and am having to squint in a Mr. Magoo sort of way. Reason for this being attempt to exercise eye balls. Right.

Not waltzing Matilda, but interesting start to weekend.

Oh, my giddy aunt.

2006-10-19T20:34:00.000+01:00

This is quite the amusing phrase which has recently entered my linguistic consciousness. Not that I have giddy aunts; my aunts are all quite sensible and well-grounded, although they do have excellent senses of humour appreciaTION. This statement is uttered in moments when one is either a) shocked or b) vexed. It reminds me of Daddy's phrase, 'Heavens to Betsy'!

Today it has poured rain, between spells of the most gorgeous weather ever :) My laundry has disappointingly failed to dry, although one of my white socks with blue trim is now a different colour blue where it used to be white due to its sneaking into the initial washing of the blue bedskirt. Laundry should be rainy fabulous fresh eventually. On rainy days, I am particularly happy to have my Dr. Martens due to their superior rubber sole quality that is supposed to prevent slippage. However, even the algae on Welsh pavement stones is giving them a run for their money. Wet leaves make this even more precarious. My umbrella seems to have gone missing.

Today was Thursday. Today still is Thursday. But Thursday is about to pass for yet another week. It is quite annoying to think that we are on about the 40th or so Thursday of 2006. Oh, my giddy aunt!

On Thursdays, I have my seminar groups. Today, we did phonetic transcription. Since this was one my favourite things last year, it was terribly fun and the kids probably thought I was a bit bonkers. There are certain vowels in British English that I simply do not have the ability to pronounce. An example of this is the vowel in bird or word.

Relative to the beginning of classes, it seems a good time to provide commentary on this year's fashion trends. Last year, you may recall that legwarmers and large metallic belts took us back to the 80s. Well, a few sad souls are still under the impression that these items make them look sexy. It is really unfortunate. One 'fortunate' thing is that many undergrads seems to have moved on from approx. 1987 to approx 1993. I even believe that I recall similar outfits in my own repertoire, and the fact that this style has returned makes me feel a bit ancient. Trends feeling eerily familar involve primarily a lot of black and denim. No plaid shirts yet... One main alteration is that dancer cut-off leggings are frequently worn instead of tights and with the stupidest little ballerina slippers coated in a plethora of sequins. A contradiction here is that most of these dancer-wanna-bes look completely NOT dancers because a) it might actually involve movement of the non-carb consuming sort or b) the anemic twigs might happen to fracture something were they to attempt anything more exerting than first position. Other amusing additions to today's scenery were canary yellow opaque tights and brilliant orange glitter eyeshadow. Fortunately these travesties were not committed on the same person. Nor were they in my classroom.

A further tangent to the new students is recent commentary on the massive population explosion of the tattoo, particularly on the lower back of the female of the species. Over the past few months, intensive research has been undertaken (including discussion with older generational representatives) and it has been hypothesised that this phenomenon is a result of the several prior generations' lack of epidermal ink. It is reported that tattoos were quite popular a few decades ago; this resulted in subsequent spawn seeing the effects of aging on the art and declining to follow the labeling process. Since there are not frequent examples of granny tats, it is our opinion that this has led to the current boom. It's going to be rawther alarming to see grannies with 'Bad Tart' or 'Naughty' tattooed over their waistbands. One opinion is that it is really thoughtful of people to be so courteous as to go ahead and label themselves so's you know what to expect.

E cooked magnif dinner of breaded plaice, new potatoes, broccoli and cauliflower with basil and parsley white sauce. B provided Turkish Delight (I have never had this - quite lovely), the episode of South Park where Al Gore fights against the ManBearPig (half man, half bear and half pig -- well, he did invent the internet. what else do you want from the man?) and noone takes him serial, and an invitation to see the new Borat movie next week. I think we shall go. The government of Khazakstan has threatened to sue Sacha Coen. He reminds me of a much more in-your-face Groucho.

Why is there a Cardiff City Bus with a big sign in the window that says 'Tesco Free Bus'? Some smarty-pants people say that this is because it is the free bus that goes to Tesco. My question was intended to be semi-rhetorical. It shall be investigated and reported on at a future time.

Canadian Wild Rice

2006-10-17T20:40:00.000+01:00

This is really a lovely type of grained food, providing health, fibre and, no doubt, a good number of vitamins (pronounced here, [vitt-a-mens]. If you say [vite-a-mens], certain people smirk.). But when a grain is stuck sideways in one's throat, it is quite less than healthful feeling. It also provides several days' worth of sustenance, which is rather a good thing when it takes 45-50 minutes to cook 250 grams of rice. It has a lovely taste and with fish and shrimp and vegetables, FABulous!

But I digress.

And here is another digression: Harrisen's photo site. It will be added to the side links (permission granted by Katie).

Things that have happened today:
My 8.00 am meeting did not happen.
Prepared for classes and seminars.
Coffi with Katharine at Shot in the Dark, where it was decided that she should not cheapen herself by taking a job selling cheap tat for shady Canadian company.
Thanksgiving plans are being made.
My green scarf wanted to stay at Shot in the Dark (coffee shop) for the afternoon. It did so, soaking up a copious amount of cigarette smoke. And it was still on it's chair when I returned three hours later! Now, how cool is that?
Phonology was discussed in lecture today.
It appears that I was supposed to make up my own sign-up sheet for my office hours.
This was done. (no wonder no one has signed up to see me...)
Keith Barber was roped into helping with the hanging of Diana's desk. He is terribly kind. This procedure will have to continue tomorrow.
Centenary IT helped recover a computer error. Somebody order those people a meat basket!
It rained on my laundry.

Logographic semantics

2006-10-17T09:21:00.000+01:00

From the Greek word logos, commonly translated as word in English. Giving rise to a phrase, which here signifies communicative human meaning through the use of letters formed into words.

We may now continue with our discussion of meaning extraction (far, far below) since herself has been up and ready peachy-keen since the ungodly hour of 7.30, suitably attired on the top half of my body at least for the online meeting with the English tutoring agency in Korea. Which meeting did not happen. Grrrr. But firstly, must catch up on what I have been doing... well, I mean, I do know what has been going on (I think), but I have been scolded for being invisible and mute. Although, if anyone has been around me, I have not been silent or mute as there has been a whole lotta coughing going on. And whininess renders most invisibility attempts quite futile.

Last week was just lovely. Well, it really wasn't so ugly or anything, just a lot of potentially negative events. But as Judith always says, one makes a decision whether to be cheerful or not. (Boy, is it a good thing I went to meditation last week.) So things were mostly cheerful, in a kind of phlegmy, medicine-induced way. To re-cap: smashed big toe Tues night (it is probably not broken as I am able to walk without excrutiating pain -- hoorah. although it is an a shocking blend of blacks and blues.).

Wednesday: prepared for Thursday seminars, toodled online for further economic sustenance, etc., made slight note of fact that lungs seemed to be tightening in manner prophetic of illness (probably due to the fact that Wednesday was the third day in a row that the property 'management' people sent someone -- a new person each day -- around to flap up corner carpet in my room to inspect the ruined floor underneath, causing mold spores to zoom around in a frenzied manner and at great speed, before making the enlightening proclamation, 'Wow. This floor is totally gone. Completely rotten and soaking. Pretty big hole. This has to be replaced... Can you leave town for a few days?' ummm. yeah. uh-huh. Are we on instant re-play? Let me pack up and leave for you, shall I? idiots.).

Thursday: 'Awoke' (because really didn't sleep much due to periodic cessation of breathing capability) to prepare for class and discovered complete lack of voice. Oooh! Prime example of the need for language when have none, except of course written... And these seminar groups were disappointingly not nearly as Chatty McChatterton as Week 1 kids were, so I rasped away at them for the majority of both 50 minute sessions, receiving many blank looks in response to inquiry such as, 'What are some differences between human and animal communication?' *grunt* Returned home and wallowed in a self-pity pool of Hall's cough drops, while housemates planned barriers of tubercular quarantine (not really. they were very very sweet.).

Friday: the pool of Hall's is getting low... They do not sell anti-biotic healing ointment in this country at the pharmacy. Antibiotic thingys (not the chemist's word) are only available from your GP. The closest thing you can get is an antiseptic cream... well, the foot hasn't fallen off yet, so I guess this is a good sign that antiseptic cream works... Went to fruiterers to purchase lemons for tea, due to Vitamin C need, fell victim to 'Peaches! 5 for a pound!' These were the worst peaches I have ever tasted. Not only hard as the floor, but as tasty as cardboard. There is still one in my cabinet and I think it will never ripen. Perhaps it should go out in the hedgehog baiting area --
Steffi and I are attempting to lure hedgehogs into our garden. I have never seen one (except for Mrs. Tiggywinkle), but they are apparently terrifically cute and make smacking noises when they eat. There is even a Cardiff Hedgehog Helpline!

The Weekend: due to return of E from water slide holiday in Turkey, was no longer forced to whine without audience. Also, had lovely food, which would have been 10 times better had I actually been able to taste it normally, instead of with slightly metallic sensation in mouth. Had very entertaining outing to The Pumping Station Interiors and Antiques on Sunday, which was first outing in a couple of days. Snuffled way through, but I persevered and looked at almost everything! This is a refurbished sewage pumping station that is now a rabbit warren of an antique shop -- Hoorah for old stuff that people don't want! Everyone should be very proud at my self-control, since E managed to extract me sans a single purchase. Additionally, to add to the comic series of days, my computer seems to have renamed itself and now refuses to recognise me as ME (again, I feel my use of language to blame the inanimate object has been rather successful). Everything will be fiiiiiiine, though -- it is good to know smart computer people and also to have a rapport with the IT people at one's home institution, so that they will give one super secret admin passwords. In the interval, using another computer, so the keys are in slightly different places, causing a few typos -- notices of these may be pointed out in comments. I will accept mockery. But only for a short time.

Now, class... Am taking chance that the mama will be able to find the humour in the following example of language :)

If one takes the signage to left (which has been examined prior to publication by myself and other credible persons for photoshopping evidence, with a judgement that this is real), one is able to glean at least two discreet pieces of communication from the arrangement of logos, or words, into statements, or sentences of sorts. The sign indicates that Northampton General Hospital does, in fact, have a facility for providing planning information to families (a topic for socio-cultural discussion here would be, 'What is a family?'). The second (or third, depending on the process of verbal deconstruction selected) information chunk tells the reader one of two things, the first one being the location of entrance to said office of family planning. As a class, perhaps in small groups, you may discuss possible secondary meaning(s).

Thank you for your attention. I think we have all learned something here today.

Note of interest: Dawny has entered the therapy world of the blog...
And there was much rejoicing. yaaay.

Pictographic semantics

2006-10-10T22:43:00.000+01:00

Well, now that the bleeding has finally stopped, we may begin our discussion of meaning extraction in the phenomenon of language.

But perhaps first, an aside, as alert readers may be wondering, 'What in God's name has she done to herself this time?' Whereas courteous and concerned friends will think, 'Oh, dear Lord, I hope she doesn't lose a limb or have to have a skin graft.' Well, to ease minds and continue to provide amusement for those people who miss seeing me bust it by toppling off my 3-inch high flip flops (what devious person invented those, and what demented soul decided they should ever be a fashionable statement?), this evening upon my return from a meditation class with Katharine, which was supposed to calm me down, untense my shoulders and, I rather hoped, make me stop grinding my teeth slightly, a piece of fairly heavy masonry decided it was both the time and place to crash upon my (fortunately shoed) toe and break itself in half. (Isn't it good how I utilised language to blame the inanimate object here? Stupid brick heading on stupid rubbish area containment wall in front garden in the dark.) Oh, the pain instantly began, but being the brave soul, no sound other than an 'ooomph!' was made, peace and calm showed only a slight diminishment, and I continued to angrily throw the rubbish onto the pavement -- as our flat seems to be the only one to do this. Admittedly, my intention in all this was not destructive or malicious and so does not contradict the calming instructor this evening... Anyhoo, I limped inside muttering a not-so-happy song, and was absol. shocked, along with Steffi, upon taking off my shoe and sock that my toe was rather a pulpish mess. (Happiness has turned to intense annoyance at this point.)

After 20 minutes holding ice on it (so v. glad bought clever multi-coloured triangle-shaped ice trays at IKEA as would have been forced to use Vienetta otherwise and licking one's feet from chocolate isn't really appealing), the oozing seemed not to be planning on stopping any time soon. So, what should one do in this situation? We call our Papa! And we are so pleased he is home! And he tells us that pressure comes before ice -- for future reference, I have now made up a brilliant mnemonic device, pi, representing pressure before ice. Hoorah for mnemonic devices conceived in moments of annoyance and great pain and with assistance of Papas.

Status at moment: toe is bandaged and have taken extra measure of taping it with rather an excessive amount of tape firmly to my second toe. There is a dull throbbing. I believe I shall be forced to sit around and knit and read quite a lot over the next few days. Oh, and fill in forms and toodle about online. And drink tea. And eat Gingernuts.

Now! Back to semantics. (My goodness, Jasper and Carrot kind of smell... hmm.) Relative to the covering of the history of writing this week, the illustration above represents a pictogram, a picture used to represent meaning. (I did have a pretty good rant of intellectual-sounding absurdity to go with this, but the smashing of an appendage has had negative effects on my logic and cleverness)

Whilst this communication device originated in earlier cultures (separate from the phenomenon of art, I might say, as artistic events are usually a one-off and not repeated in any sort of systematic or meaningful way -- although there could perhaps be an argument about Mona Lisa or Andy Warhol items 3,000 years from now, and wouldn't it be interesting to know how that will be analysed? But I digress.), there are quite a lot of instances of this around us. Now, it is unclear to me if this sign has been photo-shopped, as the file forwarded to me from Jeremy (one of the Intro to Lang lecturers) was pretty small... But relative to my intense amusement at signage, such as the warning against high voltage where the person is being violently electrocuted with a lightning bolt above the chest or the warning at castles for dim light where the guy looks as if he is suffering some painful intestinal disturbance , it felt right to share it on the blog. There were some funny interps in my head earlier, but now I just want to climb into my bed and can't be bothered. Perhaps tomorrow, we can examine the extra meanings able to be encoded with an alphabetic system -- although for Mama Bear, may not be possible due to necessity of censorship :) hee hee hee.

SOOOOO, anyone may take a shot at posting an accompanying line to the sign. And respondents should post lines by following the link just below to 'Post a Comment' so as to let everyone see their offering. Don't just email me with them, because then you won't be as famous.

And anyone who didn't get the pictogram interpretations of what to do in the event of terrorism, you should email me and I will send them on. There are quite too many for me to post them all on here. But they are riotously funny.

Why have I just been invited to join the Wild Web Cam group on MySpace? What is wrong with people?

Babies!

2006-10-09T19:12:00.000+01:00

Maurizio and Kath are having a baby in March!!!!!!!
This is the most exciting way to start the week as it provides me more subjects (or subject) for whom to knit :) Oh hoorah! Plus, it is fun to knit for little people as projects go faster :)

Knitty, knitty, knitty, knitty! I shall add some more knitting links to the side in celebratory festivity.

This week, I have also gotten pictures in the mail of Harrisen (such a handsome big one-year-old boy!) and Zareen (approx two months old and such precious big eyes!). Formal request for photo updates from the other little ones back home, pleeeese.

Had coffee with Mauri this afternoon, and they will also be hopefully moving into their new house before the end of the month. There are some pretty ridiculous things about buying a house in the UK and things are scheduled to get worse next year, when the seller will have to provide inspection information to potential buyers. However, each inspection is only valid for 6 months. This seems rather absurd to me, but who am I to say? As a buyer under current rules, Mauri has spent 800 GBP on house inspections for two houses so far, so maybe it is a good thing, but... Real estate prices in the UK are up 170% (perhaps I have mentioned this before). Merciful heavens.

In other news, it has come to my attention that car alarms just really seem to know when I am present as they go off everywhere I go. Could this possibly be related to the fact that my speakers make funny noises when I touch the contact on the lead?

Diana's mom has arrived from Columbia and is staying with us for a bit! She is terribly sweet and has brought us all sorts of fabulous food that she will be cooking for us. There is some sort of (somehow spookily familiar -- maybe from Mexico trip?) sauce similar to caramel, but not quite. It it is called Arequipe, and is also known as dulce de leche. It is made from only milk and sugar. It is divine. It is lovely to lick from a spoon when drinking milk. And we all know how obsessed with dairy I am.

Here is a interesting thing, that is kind of frustrating if you are from Columbia -- it is not possible to fly directly into the UK. One must stop in another European country before being allowed to continue on; and one must also obtain a visa for the country of the flight change in addition to the visa they must have to visit the UK.

Anyhoo, Diana's mom's birthday is tomorrow, so I must return to my frenetic knitting of a scarf for her.

Exit ASSL left

2006-10-02T13:17:00.000+01:00

Yes, the door to exit is indeed on the left.

It is time for me to leave the library in search of hot caffeinated sustenance now that my fingers have turned a deeper shade of blue and are beginning to feel numb. It also appears to be lunchtime.

Feel as if have been productive -- the accomplishment of the day so far (other than all that nonsense from the morning) is that I have figured out a bus route (root) for my journey to PG Insurance tomorrow morning, for a little gainful employment as a temp. office person for generous Graham (my Rotary counsellor). V. proud of the whole bus thing. When I stand in front of a bus stand and attempt to decrypt the charts and timetables, the gerbil just sits right down on his wheel and it is like my eyes see the writing in Klingon (speaking of which, did people know there are as many Klingon speakers in the world as Welsh speakers? I think that is right, Katharine...?). Handily, there is this website for Traveline that allows dim folk to type in their origin and destination and Presto Chango!, a little grid is vomited forth from a magical database somewhere and it tells you where to get your bus, when to alight, when to walk (with a picture of a little man walking) and from what stop to take your next bus (if you have to change busses, that is)! So fabulous.

I will WALK from my house to the bus stop on the corner, past the house with a population of 97. Will take BUS 50 at 8.04 a.m. to Kingsway, where I will alight at Stop 6. Will WALK to Stop 1. Will take BUS 27 at 8.20 a.m. to Heol Iscoed. Will WALK at 8.40 to PG Insurance and arrive at 8.43. Hoorah! It's the little things in life, you know...

Have looked at some employment opps.
Have left some MySpace comments for people.
Have looked at some depressing news items.
Have told a slight tale in an email that I am in possession of a webcam (but I will get one either today or tomorrow!) so as to have a possibility to be hired to tutor Korean ESL learners via the web...

Fingers.
So.
Cold.

Everything that glitters

2006-10-02T10:54:00.000+01:00

That is, unless on decides to suck on the internal ink cartridge of a gold gel pen since the ink is not flowing smoothly. Then, lots of things are glittery, many of them having gold-ish spatter patterns as said victim of personal idiocy performs imitation of cat with fur ball. This is especially entertaining if someone else is attempting to cook a gourmet Indian meal and is rinsing their rice in the sink (to remove the starch) so access to water and a place to eliminate the gold is a bit tricksy.

One note: gold ink is hard to remove from your tongue and it also fiendishly forms a kind of outline of one's teeth, where the teeth meet the gums. While this might be appealing in a sparkly smile sort of way, it is not entirely recommended as people tend to laugh at you. (My secret opinion is that they are just jealous.)

Another note: gold ink is slightly sweet. But in a poisonous sort of way.

Today, the morning began (after coffee and an iron that kept leaking onto my shirt) with an interview to be a mentor in local schools. This would be fun. Interview was over rather quickly (making me wonder if it was really worth it to have fought and cursed at the iron under my breath), so I decided to be industrious and go to the Graduate Centre, which was nearly next door, instead of going home and getting onto computer in hermitish sort of way until my lecture this afternoon. After walking up the 15 flights of stairs to get to the Graduate Centre (not really 15, but it is at the top of the building, blast them), I walked under a ladder at the last five steps (eek!) and the fire alarm went off. At which point everyone was ordered to evacuate the building. Back down the 15 flights of stairs.

So, I thought: 'Okay. Well, I could go to Starbucks and have a nice cup of coffee and write some notes... but a) I do not want to unneccessarily contribute to their massive empire at the expense of local business; b) do not want to ride all the way back into town, because if I do that, I might as well go home and hermit until lecture where coffee and internet would be free; and c) it is too far to go to a local coffee house -- gracious, I am getting lazy and British in my horror of distance greater than 10 yards (but, really. to get to a local coffee house, there is naturally no direct route -- pronounced 'root' here -- it would have been either around the train station, up a hill, round through a neighborhood or down a busy road, under a railroad bridge, up a hill, down a really annoyingly narrow road with manic taxi drivers and halal stores). (DING!) Fabulous idea: will go to National Museum and have nice cuppa tea and look like a bored yet fascinatingly intelligent person (also neatly pressed and dressed) who has tea in a museum when nothing else is worthy of her time.'

Alas, was not allowed in museum as a) it is a Monday and the museum is closed on a Monday; and b) I answered the question, 'Are you with the film crew?' in the negative. Silly girl. Oh well. (But wouldn't that have been an adventure had I thought faster on my feet!)

So, I meandered back to my bicyclette parked at the bottom of the stairs (Because, I am a lady...). And as soon as I unlocked the lock, the sky began to pour on my head in a manner suspiciously and disturbingly similar to the manner in which my shirt was soaked this morning -- do we see a theme? Perchance. My reaction was to spastically wheel my bike up the first flight of stairs, prop it against a wall where any thieving idiot would be visible, and flee to the shelter of the museum porch. I think the door monitor thought I was trying to make a run for it so as to be in the film :)

My thought: 'BLAST, blast, blast.'

When the rain stopped, after about 47 seconds, it seemed as if the heavens were trying to tell me to go to the library -- the ASSL -- to return my book and be productive online for a while (and just look at all I've gotten done, ma!). But then, my ID wouldn't work since: a) am no longer a student; b) do not have staff ID yet; and c) cannot get staff ID as have not been issued contract by HR because they are really slow. But the nice man let me in anyhoo. And I paid my fine for those stupid journals this summer which are ridiculously overrated in the fine world.

Mercy, am I exhausted for someone who technically has nothing to do at the moment. Well, slightly technically. So as not to upset persons who may not know yet, my Autumn will be spent tutoring first-years in two weekly seminars related to the module, Intro to Language. This is in the department when I did my coursework last year and I am so pleased that they asked me! Classes begin this week; lectures this afternoon and tomorrow afternoon and then two hours of seminars on Thursday. This pattern to be repeated times 10. Will also be searching for supplemental since will have a bit of an open schedule. That and the fact that the dollar just seems to get worse. So, hoorah!

Also, this past weekend was RIBI LINK Weekend, which is a sort of mini-conference for all incoming Rotary Scholars to the UK and Ireland. They had an international quiz on the Saturday night (!) -- v. fun! Met some really great people, one from Arkansas, one from South Carolina (who actually arrived in Cardiff on Tuesday and went out with E and myself on Wednesday. He was not encouraged to attend the rugby with the mad group on Saturday, as there were other agenda items scheduled... boooo.), three from Japan, AND.... two from Shreveport! How random is that?? 'So, you're from Louisiana, huh? We're from Shreveport.' 'Hey! I'm from Shreveport!' Have pictures, but have not gotten around to downloading from camera yet.

Re: reference to rugby game: Cardiff Blues beat London Wasps (a v. v. good team reportedly -- what I noticed was that they wore black and yellow striped socks) 36-20 on Saturday afternoon. V. fun game! There were over 10,000 people there. Cardiff Blues games are held in the Cardiff Arms Park, which is right next the Millennium Stadium, so I think 10,000 must be pretty close to capacity, although am sure will be corrected if this is small-minded of me. We had excellent standing location and there was lots of yelling. Was tied most of the way through. Nine of us went -- it was the first rugby experience for Diana and Steffi and Steffi's German friend, Seline, who visited for the weekend! Poor Keith (he is from London -- LOOOOOSER!!!! Tee hee. Maybe a trip to Turkey can give him the will to go on.)

For interested persons, Skimble, Jasper and Carrot are all doing quite well. Skimble stood outside the bathroom window and meowed at me while I brushed my teeth this a.m.

And this is just a funny site: Stuff on my Cat (props to Katharine for this one!)

Amrie, out. (actually, my wrist is tired)

Notes for Friday

2006-09-29T08:24:00.000+01:00

As I am getting ready for the all day session on 'How to Help Undergraduates Produce Higher Quality Written Assignments' (and Steffi and I are assuming this means without beating them for egregiously written tripe), the person on my street is coughing again. She coughs very loudly through an open window somewhere in short bursts of three -- HUH-huh-huh! -- at intervals of anywhere between ten seconds and two minutes. But even at the two minute rate, it makes me concerned for her health outside a tuberculosis ward and for my own health if I should happen upon any of the air that she has been breathing... ick.

Additionally, there is still a snail invader. The fish are obviously not fulfilling their duties on slug patrol. Although I have placed salt at the window frames and at the hole in my wall at the floor... (another rant at a later date), there is still a trail this morning and my beer trap does not seem to be anything more than a little beverage area. They are not drowning like they are supposed to. Perhaps I need a bigger bowl for the beer trap, as the beer is Leffe, that gorgeous concoction created by Belgian monks. AND... who knew that slugs eat paper on the floor???? ewww. And not the slug that is ammunition. hahahaha.

Here is a link to an alarming person who likes slugs. Dear me. This even includes instructions for petting them... well, touching them to notice remarkable biological things, but -- ick. This person had one as a pet and named it (wait for it) TRIGGER! hahahahah! Oooh! Here's something interesting: Slugs are hermaphrodites. Enough!!!! On to next items...

For informational reading today:
The Meatrix - (one of my favorite rants over the past few years, if you are a frequent recipient of my wisdom)
What is a Chav? - (a cultural icon of Britain)

These topics will be dicussed at length after I learn how to write today...

Is this normal?

2006-09-26T15:03:00.000+01:00

Is there something wrong with me? (Be very, very careful how you answer this.) When I touch the input plug before plugging it into the computer so as to prepare to listen to Tim Curry read Lemony Snicket's The Ersatz Elevator, there is a tapping sound that comes through my external speakers... does this mean that I have an electric personality? Or that I am transmitting signals to aliens? Maybe I have too much caffeine dashing through my veins.

Perhaps I should have some tea. Some caffeine-free, herbal tea. In my new kitty tea pot courtesy of Steffi and Diana (shown to R), which was birthday substitute for the lack of real-life kitties being allowable in new domicile :)

Having a break in real, meaningful and directed activity (i.e., horrific amounts of assigned reading and writing) is good, but I am tending to kind of pointlessly meander between the kitchen and my room in attempt to look busy. I do lots of laundry and cleaning of stationary objects! Am thinking of making a schedule for myself for tomorrow. But, actually, will be working in CLCR for enrolment, so that does give me a function :) This morning, had interview to receive National Insurance number; that was thrilling.

Weekend was quite eventful and fun.
Friday -- went to Cardiff Blues v. Glasgow Warriors rugby game with E, Ciara (E's sister) and Mark (Ciara's boyfriend). The burger van at Cardiff Arms Park is delish! And, oh, so healthy :) And here's an annoyance -- not getting your top with your bottle of Coca-cola. The top was included two weeks ago at the last game... but NO MORE! I noticed they weren't giving them to people, so I asked specifically for mine and got a significantly suspicious glare and a bluntly negative answer. But then, perhaps since my eye didn't have a malicious shine, the lady kindly told me that they are no longer allowed to give them out. Apparently, they are a hazard or a nuisance as people throw them at players, and probably, stupid refs. Well, okay. But that does make it a bit challenging for a coordinationally challenged individual to walk whilst carrying a purse, a burger, napkins and a topless Coke.

(note: pictures will have to be linked to Flick now... grrrrrr.)

My understanding of rugby rules and things like a 'maul' are increasing. But only very slightly. One item of note is that the new player from Fiji runs extraordinarily fast. He scored his first try during this game. We were stood about ten feet from the pitch and it was fabulous. There is a lot of yelling at the referee. I would not want to be a referee.

The mascot of the team is Bruiser. He is a large bear (Do they have bears in Wales? I do not think so. A search on Google for Welsh bears turned up a disturbing site, and it is not my intention to disturb anyone. Today.). I thought he was like one of those dogs with a cute little spot over his eye, but I have been informed that this is meant to be a black eye (from the rugby, you know). Of course he is missing teeth (from the rugby, you know). His head is wrapped in a bandage (from the rugby, you know) and he appears to have a gut (from the ale, you know). (photo courtesy of E's new Walkman phone with all these fantabulous features meant to inspire technical envy in all who see it.)

One funny thing is at half time (if they call it that here) when the tiny people come out and play flag rugby. The referee or coach or whoever is out there looks like a cat herder. It is really amusing.

Saturday -- spent morning being industrious in moving furniture, fixing things, eating breakfast at Taste Buds (the City Road version of George's Grill), returning borrowed items to people, venturing to IKEA, getting a fourth sheer panel (which just happens to be 2 1/2 inches longer than the other panels of the same description...). To recover from such an absurd level of industrious behaviour, a spontaneous trip to the pebble beach at Cold Knap was decided upon. (There are pictures of Knap on this surfing site linked above. I did no surfing, opting instead to learn about sea snails and barnacles. I thought barnacles were tiny shell-ey things, but they are also these huge shells that look like a little pointed hat. If you touch one, it moves slightly, but when you touch it again, it has sucked down onto the rock or whatever and will not move in any sense at all. The reason it moves the first time is that they raise themselves just a little to let air in. Who knew?). The Knap is right next to Barry, which is about 20 minutes from downtown Cardiff, to the West. And a bit south.

The beach is made of big pebbles up at the top of the hill, but it is then sandy at the water. There is an inlet next to a rocky outcrop (which provides for adventuresome climbing), where seaweed washes up. This seaweed is the wierdest seaweed ever as it has odd little pustules (such an unfortunate word) at the ends of the leaves and on the stems. Of course, I had to take a shell and poke them. They burst. With a little 'puff' noise. It was gloriously icky! In the seaweed section of the beach -- by this point, my shoes had been abandoned -- we hunted for sea creatures in little rivulets and pools.

Planes leaving Rhoos Cardiff International Airport (hint, hint) fly through a little dip in the hills around the western side of the bay and over the Knap if the wind is right. The wind was right, so I have all these pictures of glorious beach with tons of blue sky and one tiny speck over the tree line. Yes, we are easily amused. There are cliffs on that end of the beach and that will be my next area of exploration. And a cool railway bridge that should make some excellent pictures. For someone with a clue of how to fully utilise their camera, that is.

On way back into Cardiff, E stopped at Castell Mynach for a snack of some mussels and a bloomer (which is just a big doughy bit of baked bliss) for dipping in the sauce. Yummy!

Then, met Mari for a goodbye coffee before heading to Dawny's going away party in Caerphilly at the Goodrich Pub. Steffi, Katharine, E and I rode up on the train together and much amusement was had by: a) the fact that I had my knitting with me -- from my coffee shop outing, i promise!; b) all of the coloured pens I own in my purse; c) my attempts to do coloured pen art on an envelope on a rocking train; and d) the fact that my student rail card was actually IN my purse amongst all the yarn instead of home on my desk and which I ought to have used to buy my ticket... grrrrrrrr.

Fun, fun, fun party. Dawn is moving to Huddersfield to pursue PhD in Linguistics (AND Patrick Stewart is the Chancellor! Who knew?!?). She is very brave and I cannot imagine trying to finish this dissertation whilst trying to sell house, having buyers back out on sale, preparing house for sale again and uprooting her life across country -- all within three months. The rest of the party included lots of 80s music (!yay!); talk of adoption for Katharine (to solve that tricky visa problem), critical theory discussion of The Rocky Horror Picture Show; horror at the fact that Amrie has never seen it; an 80s dancing demonstration by Eamonn that disturbingly resembled the Macarena, tight-shoe hobbling by Dawn; a shadily early departure by Matthew; and en masse Quiz Night assault planning.

Sunday -- lazy day, including incessant warting about the Ryder Cup. I will agree that it is quite annoying for US golfing fans to bellow out immediately upon the follow-through of a shot, 'IN the HOLE, Tigeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrr!' That is vexing. It is also vexing to chant: 'U - S - A! U - S - A!' over and over and over again. Generic applause with perhaps an occasional discreet whistle would be quite sufficient.

Monday -- Final goodbye to Dawn over tea and cookies, with entertainment by someone doing a Rubix's Cube :( She also took her kitties to the Cat Protection agency, rendering it a really rough day. More furniture movement, thanks to E Taxi, Removal, Electronics Management and General Repair Service. Then we all watched Riverdance and The Matrix (odd combination, yes). We are having an attempt to watch the trilogy plus the Animatrix in order and in four days.

And here we are. Ready to go to the estate agents' to complain about some things, ask for some other things and barter for a reduction in this month's rent. Hmmm.
Sounds fun, no?
No.

One thing I have learnt today: potatoes CAN go bad. Very bad indeed. Bleeeech! (so that's what the smell in my cabinet was... I thought potatoes never went bad, they just grew little stems.)

note (partly to self): next submission will be to explain British phenomenon of Quiz Night more successfully.

Greetings, literate mammals.

2006-09-22T12:55:00.000+01:00

Hello. Allow us to introduce ourselves. We are Carrot and Jasper (no relation to Jasper Carrot) and will be bringing you this update. You see, we are happy to be living in a place called the Gold House (despite a ridiculous person in the 19th century having carved above the outer door some nonsense about it being called 'Norbet House'), being as we ARE GOLDfish. Do not even think about indulging in specieist behaviour and denigrating Jasper for his pale hue. This makes him very upset and when he is upset, well, there could be dangerous consequences -- there is a distinct goldish tint above his upper lip. (do fish have lips?)

It has been brought to our attention that this blog has been neglected for quite a while due to the flitty behaviour of our human, and so we have decided to take matters into our own hands. Ahem, fins. ...now, would that be pectoral fins, dorsal fins, caudal fins or fat fins? Well anyhoo, we can't worry about such trivialities. On with the show.

It should be noted that the plants pictured in this picture have been thrown out with the rubbish as they were causing an alarming growth of algae, which made us have to gulp air all through the night, annoying our person and making her edgy. We now have a lovely plastic plant, with reddish highlights in the centre of the leaves. And we are learning that it is not a super idea to eat snails. Only one has stayed down in Jasper's tummy and the rest are getting a bit large for our mouths. Plus our person taps on the glass in reprimand when we try to pick on them. And that is no fun.

Our person seems to be in a much better humour now than on the Monday we first moved in (11 Sept). A human of Italian origin, named Fabiana, we think, brought us to Amrie, who transported us home dangling from the handlebars of a bike (boringly, she decided to walk the bike instead of riding it -- she obviously has no idea of our inherent bravery and sense of balance). She quite indecorously dumped us into our bowl with no flora or chicly coloured floor coverings, leaving us with nothing better to do for the next two days than watch her sit at her keyboard tapping madly away between bouts of phone calls, frantic Greeks and a large percentage of coffee production.

Finally, she began to smile and breathe evenly after a nice man brought a big stack of papers which had been 'printed' at an 'office'. She claims a 'word count' of nearly 16000, whatever that means. Calm finally descended on the room after our person took a trip to something called a 'bindery'. And then she was able to get around to taking care of our needs for suitable decor and playing us audio books and calming music.

Someone had a birthday party on 14 September; we think it was a Wirish person. Then our person went to the 'opera' at the Canolfan Mileniwm Cymru on the 16th as a pressie for the birthday person. She was rather in a swivet about reserving appropriate seating, but it all worked out fine. Upon her return, she reported to us that it was very well done (although she wasn't sure at first if she would approve of modern treatment of classical subject matter). Her impression was that of Dali meets Cabaret meets opera. Overall, she approved.

Sunday last, furniture was added to the decor of our reception room (which is also where our person sleeps at night. and watches movies. and knits.), which was obtained from Dawn/Dave, a person who lives currently in Treharris on the other side of Caerphilly Mountain. This is a mad person who, after finishing an MA in Language and Communication Research, has decided to move to Huddersfield in pursuit of a PhD.

On Tuesday, something important seems to have occurred, although our person kept tut-tutting that there was no need for such fuss. The phone kept croaking and there was a lot of laughing. This was a good thing. A lot of emails were coming through, which made her chuckle. Someone kept calling and asking if she was still at home and if she would be home at different times through the day; at first, she thought it was because people were coming to eat lunch or have tea, but then a HUGE cluster of flowers appeared, along with a vase, a balloon and a pink bear! (note: pictures being testy on Blogger, so links go to flickr pics)

Later that evening, a lot of people milled about in the Gold House, talking rather loudly. It was a good thing they were mostly in the kitchen in the back of the house, so our sensitive ears could get back to listening to the snails in our bowl. Apparently, this ruckus was part of a large food production process. Muffins were made by Steffi. Eamonn made pate stuffed mushrooms for starters and pork steaks, marinated in balsamic, garlic, and, oh, lots of stuff plus veggies for mains and homemade garlic butter bread. A lot of garlic was consumed in this event, which carried the celebration into the next day. And expensive vino. Other notes are that the birthday girl was unable to refrain from Obsessive Compulsion. Diana took pictures and, therefore, managed to avoid being photographed. This shall soon be remedied. Diana was, however, introduced to Little Britain, before she escaped to late night Salsa dancing.

Thursday, our person went to a class on Small Group Teaching at Cardiff University. She seems to be under some delusion that interacting with undergraduates in a classroom setting will be fun.

Tonight, she plans to go to 'the rugby' with some Welsh people. We are quite happy to stay at home, as we don't think that the Cardiff Blues burger van contains appropriate food for us.

Overall, we have had a very good week. We have had our water changed three times (with person's emotional battle with algae), gotten a new plant, and have eaten and vomited some snails, all whilst keeping an eye on the goings on in the Gold House and environs. We saw Diana's bike get stolen outside our window the other afternoon, but we can't figure out how to tell on the slimy scum. Our people don't seem to understand fin-based semaphore. Any suggestions will be welcome.

This week, we have seen:
another American, who likes coffee, yarn and Jasper (favouritism -- just because he has that little gold bit on his lip. Cute isn't everything you know, and just because he is trying to flirt...);
a German, who seems to live in the next room and bakes muffins;
a Columbian, who lives down the hall;
two episodes of the first season of 24;
some knitting techniques;
our person hang some sheer curtains;
someone get a parking ticket;
The Merchant of Venice;
and evidence of the presence of a creature (shown to R) who seems to live in a box on the patio. The Wirish person tells us this is called a 'flea-bag' but our person considers this slanderous and vociferously protests. All we can say is that we are happy not to have such an ugly furred beast peering through our window or stalking around our reception area, no matter how cosily it is furnished.

End of fishy communique.

Philosophical and psychological inquiry

2006-09-13T12:55:00.000+01:00

For participation and comment by all.

Eamonn would like to submit for discussion the following question:

'If there is a noticeable increase in obsessive compulsive behaviour over a certain period of time, does this constitute OCDeification?'

One year ago today

2006-09-13T12:31:00.000+01:00

...I arrived in the UK and hauled 140 lbs. of luggage via rail to Cardiff from Gatwick airport.

WOW!

Today, I have taken mine and Georgia's dissertations to the bindery and dropped that monkey off my back. Hoorah! Then rode bike back to JC's Cafe and enjoyed delectable breakfast with Katharine (who ridded herself of her monkey on Monday).

Katharine is taking a Welsh class. Welsh is an amusing language :) I have made up a compound word of my own from my observation of various signage recently: popty theithio. This means 'bakery rideshare' and indicates a carpooling to the bakery, I suppose. K has added to the amusing word list with:
smwddio (pronounced smooth-ee-o), verb meaning 'to iron'
popity ping (pronounced as it looks), noun meaning 'microwave'

hahahahaha!

We are now being taken on an excursion to WHAT! and to PetSmart in celebration of our temporary freedom and lack of responsibility. hoorah!

Chrome

2006-09-07T17:12:00.000+01:00

If the whole dissertation thing somehow goes awry, my plan is to go into the chrome business. Specifically, the chic chrome kitchen shelf with clever pot hooks business.

It seems that just a couple of years ago, Martha Stewart et al. had inspired a new retro kind of sparse kitchen design and one would think that perhaps the idea of a simple chrome shelf would be a little easier to remedy than it seems to be. This is why I found myself online at 11.43 pm last night (with the newly established internet, which I managed to install on my computer myself -- hoorah!) searching fruitlessly for a decorative yet functional addition to the kitchen, and which will allow more counter space to exist. Hmmm. Well, actually, there IS one out there... it is just $700. I suppose we could make do with the $580 one, but, you know... it just wouldn't be the same.

WHO spends $700 on a shelf made out of some chrome pipes and some clever hanging pot hooks? And why are they wasting our air?

Have also discovered that the UK version of The Container Store is The Holding Company.

As readers may at this point be aware, have moved into new habitat and am having lovely procrastinatory time with new surfaces to clean instead of typing and new furnishing ideas for nest. Hoorah for cleaning products and people who let one borrow their steam cleaner! At this point, am very close to 14000-word required threshold for dissertation. Just can't seem to stop ganglion in wrist from making arm numb (Eamonn seems to be of the opinion that answer to this is to smash the ganglion with a book or something heavy after this paper is finished. Am starting to believe him today. We shall see.). And am also terribly weary of looking at my data and trying to think of anything else clever to say about it.

Anyhoo, Georgia and Eamonn and I moved everything on Thursday evening, then E transformed G's data and made clever graphs, and then we had food!

New house is fabulous. Have front bedroom with bay window, which has space, space, space! Hoorah for space! Rearranged furniture completely and then rearranged it again (with addition over several days of much furniture from E's storage unit, so that now room is homey and cozy and should be good place to write brilliant words of intellectual promise). My housemates are: Steffi (my friend who is a PhD student from Centre for Language and Communication Research and who took classes with us last year) and Diana (a new international MBA student at Cardiff University, who has just arrived from Columbia).

Have a lovely garden, which will be brilliant for barbeques. There is a large paved area and our garden is separated from the next door neighbors's by a short rock wall with ivy. There is a tree in the middle of the grassy area, bordered at the back by tall fir hedges. Out the kitchen window is a view of the church steeple and tower around the corner. And we have windows that actually OPEN instead of just barely pretending to open for safety reasons (and, yes, I know. Must be careful with this, for safety reasons). It is just lovely! Will take pictures and organise them very soon...

Additionally, by Friday, the memo seemed to have been circulated and I was located by my new kitty friend (yet another benefit of having a garden)! He is a youngish tabby with bow legs; he walks like a pirate and I have named him Skimbleshanks. He enjoys sitting in the kitchen window. He does not appear to be related to a railway in any way. And this is just random. They do not, however, seem to have a reasonably priced chrome kitchen shelf for sale. Hmmmm.

Must get back to work... or some semblance thereof.

And then there were none.

2006-08-31T15:58:00.000+01:00

And Then There Were None.

Well, so far no one has been murdered under suspicious circumstances, but there will have to be a gathering of some sort in a drawing room after this is over for some sort of beverage-type recovery. But that really is quite an excellent film.

In approx. 8 minutes (or so), the last Hobbit will be departing, with the assistance of The Mad Greek and The Wirish One and their respective vehicular transport. This should be quite a lot of fun attempting to transport boxes of kitchen supplies and copious amounts of yarn in various and sundry tote bags across Crwys Road during rush hour. To add to the feeling of home-like comfort, it seems that the humidity has raised its ugly head today, causing this Hobbit(ess) to sweat in a rather unladylike manner on her ride to the post office, two libraries and the letting agents to collect the new keys (from our Moron who always ends up being the free agent available to help us).

Bye, bye, Hobbit room!
(this is the latest arrangement. it is much emptier at the moment.)

Amusements at the end of August

2006-08-30T21:39:00.000+01:00

One funny thing is thinking that butter left out overnight in another part of the world than the US South (e.g., Loozyanna) will be at any appropriate stage for sugar, vanilla and egg to be mixed into it to create a nice smooth beginning of cookie dough. In this situation, it works to sort of hold the blue plastic mixing bowl approximately 4 inches above a hob burner so that the heat is able to assist you.

Another funny thing is to realize that the wisk has vaporised from your kitchen. Hard butter tends to bend a fork.

To fully experience this comedy, you should plan to make a recipe which includes 3 1/2 cups of flour. For this to completely be fun, you should not have a sifter to hand. It is MUCH more entertaining to use a tea strainer for this purpose and an additional benefit is that it makes the hilarity last three times longer! Witty instructions directing one to sift flour mixture four times (are they mad?!) should be disregarded in this situation.

In Britain, wax paper is known as Greaseproof Paper.

Finally, and completely unrelated to your earlier cookie endeavour, the best way to end one's day is by charring two pieces of toast in absolutely hellish manner due to toaster having managed to lose its ability to pop up when finished with its task. This is best accomplished when the fire alarm goes off 14 times in five minutes after this activity and some unsuspecting person (unsuspecting of one's full toast burning tendencies) is working on your research data. But at least you know your toast is done.

How droll.

*******
The fabulous news of the day is that my data has been manipulated by clever person (who frighteningly claims to be able to mentally see the code that needs to be run to make it do greater and more fantastical things) and the numbers and beautiful graphs actually DO seem to show a relation between spelling awareness and cognitive style!
Oh, hoorah!

And tomorrow is the move. Oh, ick.

And then there was one.

2006-08-29T22:56:00.000+01:00

The last Hobbit remains.
This is not a fragment statement of the presence of the remains of the last hobbit (or would that be hobbitess? hmmm.) but rather a complete sentence relating to faithful readers that there is only one hobbit left in the Hobbit Hole. And she is cleaning. And there are no more Gingernuts. And there is a massive pile of rubbish outside the front door. And She notes that it is good.

Further notes on today's activity:

*The postman pointed out that the doorbell has been stolen and is not merely dead, as I had thought.

*Fabiana and Alessandro left in a rather full taxi with an alarming amount of luggage to navigate through a train change in Manchester. More power to them!
*Meeting with supervisor went well -- have one week to complete whatever part of paper in final form we want scanned for silliness. And we do want it all scanned, don't we, so we had best get ourselves into gear.
*Our mother has informed us of devious plans to embarrass absent family members (namely me) with horrifyingly precocious pictures at the upcoming Strain/Jones/etc. reunion in the coming weekend. I request that any readers in attendance will refrain from raucous mockery. If there are pictures of any small girls in ruffly dress and foolishly lacy socks (white, of course. how silly! I mean, in theory "how silly!") sitting on top of a mud pile, those would be images completely unrelated to my distinguished past. As would any images involving the consumption of paste.
*Anyhoo, Paul has alerted us to the fact that there will be no Quidditch in the OoTP next summer. If you are feeling a bit low about your life at the moment, you may want to review comments posted in reference to this news item on the link above and know that you have a perfectly fine, NORMAL life. These people haven't one.
*Eamonn has alerted us to innovative new developments in Dutch golf. Those crazy Dutch.
*And a bit late, as this was sent last week... Matthew informs us of linguistic singularities of the Bovine kind. See comment re: OoTP fans above.

******
AM out. Moooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Notes from a small mind.

2006-08-29T10:09:00.000+01:00

Could caffeine, as a vasoconstrictor, make one's brain shrink? Hmmm.

Interesting item: The Cambridge University urban legend. This is about spelling, and so is remotely related to the really big load of fertiliser that I am typing up at the mo. The link is being input for the enjoyment of others but also so that I won't forget it. As I tend to do with lots of things lately.

A link, cunningly located by Katharine for dissertation tension relief, (and of course related to her topic. we are not piddling around mindlessly on the internet.) refers to the website of a remarkably silly man who eats new and horrifically unusual food items for the sheer trauma of it. And for our amusement. And trauma. Steve, don't eat it! This is certainly not for the faint-hearted or the easily offended. And you should not be drinking anything fizzy whilst reading as that could cause pain when you snort either in or out in hysteria. I feel rather sorry for this man's wife :)

If anyone who reads this page on a regular basis has been offended lately by Yahoo! IM not letting them talk to me saying they are "not on my list of contacts" or some such nonsense, this is due to the interfering nature of ZoneAlarm. Stupid ZoneAlarm. They ARE, in fact, on my contact list and should email me to schedule a 'date' and I will turn it off so's we can talk. It would behove me to say that I anticipate no 'dates' until after 15 September. Don't be offended.

Okay, must run now.
Run away! Run away!
(waving hands in the air)

Oh, listen! That bloody alarm has just started again... this is helpful.

Gingernuts are comforting.

2006-08-22T19:18:00.000+01:00

(but they really need to be hidden somewhere)

Today's tip is:
If you use someone else's duvet (sans cover), try not to spill food on it as the weather might have gotten colder and the owner of soiled duvet might come looking for it because they froze last night. Should a morsel happen to fall, do not fold it up and leave it, esp. with dried morsel remaining. (grrrrrrrrr, snarl, hiss, spit).

On a socio-psychological level, it is really good for me to live with others after 10 years of being the Queen of my Realm -- learning to share, learning to care, learning that not everyone is OCD, blah, blah, blah -- but GAAAAaaahhhh... god bless america, learn some bloody courtesy! and i'm the Only Child here?
Library closed at 5 today.
Made lovely dinner attempting to eat remnants of food so as not to have to haul them across town in 9 days -- NINE days?!?!?!! eek.
Went to mass this evening and sat next to Sheila, who thought i had fallen off this side and landed back on the other bank of the pond (since have been wretched and not been to church in a month or more... b.a.d.).
Am packing and sorting things for charity.
And listening to Harry Potter audio book.
And must stop eating Gingernuts. (fyi, the people on this tea and bikkie site, have tooooo much time on their hands)
Al has sent article link about killer raccoons in america -- be afraid, be very afraid.
Matthew has sent a link in response to yesterday's irrational rant...
it amused me, but all i have to say is, if dr. smiley uses my duvet and spills food on it and doesn't clean up after himself, dr. smiley can take the piece of advice provided at the closing of yesterday's entry

Plug it in.

2006-08-21T16:15:00.000+01:00

(not to be sung to the elfishly cheerful Glade commercial)

How is it that a library in a large research university of, oh, I don't know 30,000 or 40,000, whatever students can have so few blasted plugs? Were they suffering the effects of plug inflation the year they built the library? Have there been no sales on plugs and/or wiring since then?

You would think that the edifice of an entire 100' wall made up of study cubicles and tables would have at least ONE plug on it, wouldn't you? Oh no. You would be incorrect. Why would there be plugs in the most fabulously quiet part of the library? (I guess we know why it is so quiet and why Georgia and I, in fact, had to unstack chairs and create our own little study area.) Just as a point of trivia, the 300'-400' wall running perpendicular to our first wall appears to only have two plugs on it. And those plugs would be running a copy machine that no one uses and some sort of card reader machine that goes with copy machine.

Actually, I am being a little irate and irrational here. They are in the process of making an office in the back corner of this area, which is approximately 6'x12'. Would you like to guess how many plugs are in this office? No fewer than 12. Whilst we were diligently studying and blistering our little synapses, the workmen decided they had had enough and it was time to leave, right around the time that my battery wilted away as the weak, pansy thing that it is. The workmen kindly told me that indeed the plugs were live in this area and it would be fine for me to use them to recharge said floral battery. Trying to be good citizen, I foolishly went to the front desk and inquired if it would be okay to do this as I had no hidden plans to colour on the walls or soil the carpeting in any way. Was this inquiry met with a positive response? Oh no. It was as if I had asked if I could pitch a tent and build a campfire on which to brew coffee, which would then be flung on the newly installed windows.

'But there are lots of plugs on the top floor...(But I don't want to go to the top floor) there is a whole wall of them!!!' Right. On the opposite 100' wall on the top floor, would you like to hazard a guess as to the number of plugs?

Five would be the correct answer here. Five? Reeeeally? WOW! That is an amazing number!

After settling my seething nerves (and dealing with the fact that it was noisier and stuffily warmer upstairs) a fairly good deal of work was persuant. Which is a positive thing since I meet with my supervisor tomorrow in grovelling submission, hoping that I am not talking rubbish :)

Anyhoo, it has been an overall good day and I have rewarded myself with four Gingernut cookies and a glass of milk. But if you are looking for a plug in the ASSL (Arts and Social Science Library -- they have obviously just added the 'L' out of propriety), you know where you can plug it.

Mad Greeks and Alarms

2006-08-17T19:31:00.000+01:00

Oh my GOSH!!!!!! A second alarm has just chorussed in with the first alarm that has gone off three times within the past hour -- this time, it has been screeching for at least 20 minutes solid. I may begin to pull leaves off the basil plant in a minute and burn them. Or draw on the walls with coloured pens. But we wouldn't want to jeopardise the bond (deposit) now... so burning basil leaves it should be.

Ooh, it has stopped! Both of them!

******
Anyhoo, the purpose of this post is to (besides the obvious avoidance of writing) attempt to promote the festive occasion that was the Greek's birthday last night! And naturally, the pictures don't seem to want to have anything to do with this phenomenon called uploading. Damnable BloggerPhoto.

******
Oh, listen! The alarm has started up AGAIN! Get out the matches.

It stopped!!!!! Thank the Good Lord.

Oh, wait. NO -- J.K., kids, J.K....

Stopped.

(pause 12 seconds) START!

Stopped (2.1 seconds pause)

START!

Stop... (nope)....

Can you smell the herbal smoke from where you are sitting?

*********
Anyhoo, a lovely time was had by all. E provided champers for the birthday girl, which started the evening off in a bubblier than bubbly manner! Plus, we made a private party area on the sofas upstairs in Central over the window floor -- be alert if you wear a dress.

It was so great to get out of the vortex of mental drain that is this dissertation (for four of us, at least) and have some lightness and sparkliness for a while. We have made our own little support group this year and, although the group is much smaller now since a lot of people have gone home, it is a shame not to utilise each other's shoulders in our feelings of vacuity more often.
'Hi! My name is Amrie and I haven't written a word in TWO days...!!!!'

Dawn and I decided that a foray into the wild and wonderful organic world of pear cider (aka, perry) was called for. It was a lovely foray. And there was much rejoicing.

Note: The Greek is very rarely motionless and so is a blur in most of my photos :)

List of a few pictures which, thankfully, Flickr has aided me in displaying to all and sundry (that'll teach you, BloggerPhoto):
* D&G (not Dolce and Gabana)
* A warmly lit shot of Steffi, the Greek and Alex (note amusing comment in Flickr re: t.v. caption)
* This is The Greek, me, Kat and John being all confused about the picture taking, and not at all on the same page, partly because we had just had two movies taken of us -- that's why the camera didn't flash!
* And two Welsh gangstas (that's my best guess)

******
In other corners of my world, am fighting with SPSS (a social science data manipulation program. And which, by the way, stands for Stupid Program is Stubborn and Squirrelly). When I try to get it to manipulate my numbers in any sort of way at all, but hoping against hope that something will come out significant and angels will begin to sing, it gives me this pompous reply:

'All variables in the working file or in the sets in use are inappropriate for this dialog box.'

Stupid dialog box. Who said I wanted dialog in the first place? It won't even make senseless charts with coloured lines. Stupid program. And the SPSS Survival Manual is not throwing me much of a life preserver even though there is one drawn in hideous orange pastel on the front. Stupid book.

If this weren't enough to make one's head ache, I am trying to compute ages of Subjects in my data set with only my brain and my fingers (the toes are a bit cold to be out). It seems I have misplaced a certain computer person who could perhaps make Excel figure out ages in years and months.

Have been introduced this week (very cruelly, I might say) to the most FABulous shops for home, garden and crafty things, now that someone has access to a car! It is a really good thing I have remained ignorant of their existence so long, or I would have far, far, far too much stuff to move. Must try to forget about these stores now, and how near they are to my home, due to need to focus and fact that do not have job -- where is a good hypnotherapist when you need one?

Today, I heard thunder! Oh my goodness, I miss thunderstorms so much. It rained a really good spell today and I wanted to go outside and play in puddles so badly. But instead, I ate a burger from a burger stand in a parking lot and retained a smidgen of dignity.

Got letter from Oma this morning and actually caught her at home (before she went to water aerobics). Lovely mail!

Talked to parental units as well (after finally finding them... it is 8am. Do you know where your parents are?) as today is their anniversary! I want to say 38 years (hoorah!), although as evidenced above am not so good at annual computations. Am missing celebratory dinner at Smith's Cross Lake Inn tonight. Slightly bitter about missing this and am on hunger strike (well, actually, just being too lazy to go fix self sustenance).

AND, talked to Cousine Lindsey briefly as well! So much to talk about, so little time... boo :(

In further computer news, I heard a report two days ago on the radio about Dell computers spontaneously bursting into flame due to faulty batteries. Have investigated and found that indeed my battery is one of the 'Danger, Will Robinson. Danger.' ones... have made an inquiry into IT at Centenary for it. In the mean time, I shall perhaps need to start backing up my data more regularly. Well, backing it up at all, since am a silly monkey. And will turn computer off completely when not attended. How vexing.

Additionally, I do NOT WANT the Yahoo! toolbar on my task bar area. Why won't it stay turned off?!?
And DO WANT the clever little personal clock thing that E wrote for me to stay ON when my homepage is on instead of being blocked by pompous virus alert system! aaaarrrrgggghhhhhhh........

(Readers may sense that many things are occupying my fragile little mind right now... At this point, the alarm has gone on and off at LEAST 72 times. Those muscles on the back of my neck are approaching the relaxation state of, oh, say a rock. I am now completely mad and must go and wipe the drool from my chin. And then burn things.)

Exodus

2006-08-14T19:13:00.000+01:00

The Hobbit Hole Exodus has begun.
:(

Hiroko left today to go back to Osaka (while she could still use her return ticket from Rotary). She will go back to work on 1 September. No more dissertation for her! Hoorah!

Maurizio returns to Italy tomorrow with his precious mama, who has been visiting for a week, and he won't be back until the lease is over, so he has moved all of his stuff to a friend's house. Then, it will just be Fabiana and moi puttering around gloomily quiet for the next three weeks finishing up this Trial by Ink and Leatherette Binding that we have brought upon ourselves.

It is just really all terribly sad since, as Maurizio says, we have made ourselves into such a nice little family this year.

But change must happen, as we all know, now that we are supposed to be gone from the 100-Aker Wood. I just hate it, though, (change, that is) at the very time that it is happening, as well as the neurotic anticipation of it (change, that is) happening. And I need to buy stock in tissues.
(My critics will no doubt find this quite rich coming from the person who uprooted her dull, predictable life and abandoned her cat-child to a life of pampered bird-watching and treat-eating in order to move 3,500 miles across an ocean, when she had never ventured a residence further than 45 miles from the hospital where she was born and never more than 10 miles from her parental units -- hahaha.)

******
On a completely different and slightly more uplifted note:
Georgia and I were chauffered by kind Eamonn to the Abbey Bindery today and have booked ourselves in for having our dissertations bound on 12 September, to be collected on the 13th (two whole days early -- small hoorah!). SO, NOW we really must get busy...
Steffi and I found a place to move to on 1 September this week
(hoorah! no living in a box!).
I have a new electric toothbrush and a new shiny electric silver kettle!
(double hoorah! appliances!) arse
But do NOT call me Salad Fingers.

How to Win Friends and...

2006-08-06T21:51:00.000+01:00

This episode sponsored by Dale Carnegie (and the letter K, of course).

A tip for winning at Scrabble is to break your opponent's hand (or, if you don't really want to sully your own hands -- heh heh heh -- just make sure it is done somehow, preferrably with the slightest protrusion of osseous tissue).

In our next tip-giving edition, we shall address the pulse-pounding issue of Packing Light & Running Fast.

Leapin' Lizards

2006-08-04T09:40:00.000+01:00

The American Musical is one of the Greatest Capitalist Inventions of the entire 20th century...

Or, that is what has just been said by David Edgar on Desert Island Discs as a preface to playing 'Gee, Officer Krupke' from "the greatest musical of them all": West Side Story. (hmmm.) If you are in doubt, he is a very, very left playwright. This just made me laugh.

*******
On another musical note, I got out of bed this morning to the melodious sound of someone being sick outside the window...

Happy Friday.

Come on, Dover!

2006-08-03T14:31:00.000+01:00

Move your bloomin' arse!!!!

Were that my name, someone would need to yell that repeatedly in my ear :)

Last night, The Venerable John Lewis took me to see My Fair Lady at the Wales Millennium Centre. It was an absol. magnificent production, although the flow of the show was slightly skippy-jumpy due to cutting and revisions to fit it into 3 hours. The stage, though, was amazingly well-designed with receeding arches forming the frame into which various sets dropped and were tracked in -- in particular the library, which was like a magical jigsaw puzzle every time it moved in!

A couple of additions to the script were very enjoyable, such as the Stomp!-ish dancing added to the 'With a Little Bit o' Luck' routine and underworld dance girls added to 'Get Me to the Church on Time'. However, the Underground version of Eliza's journey through London when she runs away and the end scene, which was just indescribably campy with Prof. Higgins and Eliza crossing their arms in defiance of each other and then bursting into laughter, were not enjoyed by moi (famous theatre critic). Costumes were great, the Ascot scene was very amusing and Freddy Einsford-Hill giggled so very giddily, which was quite amusing (plus, he had an amazing voice).

Additionally, this was my first time inside the Millennium Centre auditorium, and it is unbelievable (and I thought the lobby was fantabulous)! The outside of this structure is gorgeous and the inside is rather like a computer-generated dream. (Speaking of computer-generated', if anyone has not seen Elephant's Dream, completely created with open source graphic software, it is VERY impressive. This is things that one becomes aware of when one begins to hang out with CGTs -- Computer Genius Types.) Naturally, no camera. But we shall see if I can't figure out something else to go to to remedy this circumstance :)...

*******
In other news, a small break from the domination of the computer, consisting of 45 minutes of knitting at Hoffi Coffi with a cuppa tea, calms a twitching eye. Hoorah! Justification!

******
Come on. Come on! Come on, Dover....!!!!!

Legionnaire's Disease

2006-07-31T16:28:00.000+01:00

Oh dear me. Something else to be hypochondriacal (sp?) about.

A sentence has been passed down today against an architect for causing seven deaths due to Legionnaire's Disease from an inadequately cleaned air duct system -- she was cleared of manslaughter but not of violating the Health and Safety at Work Act. Pursuant to this, Maurizio and Eamonn have now informed me that I must not drink from the hot water tap or from duo hot-and-cold taps. This is apparently the reason for having separate taps, although I question that Legionnaire's is the reason for not drinking hot water. Oh dear, dear, dear. My tummy is starting to hurt from thinking about it.

******
Thursday: Our team (minus two reasons for high hopes, since James and Claire had to cancel) did NOT come in last! And the MENSA team did not come in first, either. The world felt slightly out of balance, but we all recovered. Additionally, due to my stubborness, Biblical consultation was vehemently called for in the pub (and another team shared my view, so I wasn't just being contrary and pedantic) -- who would have thunk it?

The question in question was regarding who wanted Samson's hair cut... of course it wasn't Delilah. She was bribed to do it, but it wasn't her idea. And singing the song does not make that the correct answer. After sending loyal person across the street for a Bible, it was decided after approx. 30 minutes and various personal readings and interpretive activity that this was indeed true (but we still didn't get a point out of it as we only put 'king...' and it was, in fact, the five Philistine kings. Just in case anyone ever needs to know that in future.). The Quiz Master waving a Bible around in the Mackintosh was rather surreal and slightly amusing.

Saturday: Right... So, who would think that friends of mine from Little Rock, Arkansas (Justin's parents) would be accompanied on a visit to Cardiff by relatives from Jacksonville, Florida, who would be extremely close friends (for 40+ years!) with Irish second-cousin family of a Welshman, who just happened to be the person I invited to dinner on group outing? Furthermore, these people have several times met said Welsh person's Irish aunt, who is a nun in London and who I met two weeks ago. Twilight Zone? Yes. Yes, I think so.

*******
Scrabble scores are improving but am VERY annoyed by being beaten by >200 points. Have lost five games in four days (last night's spread was only 37, thank the good Lord). I mean, WHO scores over 400 points in Scrabble??? Wierd people who are too smart for their own good; that's who. :)

*******
The Hobbit Hole is disbanding :(
Hiroko has taken her dissertation to the binder's shop today! This is starting downhill slide into sadness, since she is leaving in two weeks to return to Japan. Her room is depressingly packed into boxes which are to be collected for shipping home tomorrow. Change alarms me.
The rest of us will then have to move by end of August, so that is another reason for butterfly tummy besides Legionnaire's and water pipes, although hope to have place to camp until figure out plan for self and remainder of life (haha).

*******
And our question of the day is:
How is a resolution from the UN going to even approach success in bringing about a ceasefire on both sides if one of the sides is a terrorist organisation? hmmm???

further explanation

2006-07-27T09:39:00.000+01:00

from Days of the Week:

"Wednesday is often referred to as "hump day" because of its position as the middle day of the work week. If the work week were a hill. Then Wednesday would be the crest. It is all down hill from there. (Whether the down hill ride is a coast or a descent into a swamp is left to the individual.)"

More definitions here.
And who knew there was a Lakota Sioux war chief named Hump who fought against Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn????

Mini me

2006-07-27T08:48:00.000+01:00

The cutest (well, it's actually pretty fairly hideous, but in an interesting sort of way) Mini is sitting below the kitchen window.
It is powder blue with pink shag seats :)

******
More info. has been proferred via email already this morning re: British eccentricity (a la Matthew).

National Be Nice to Nettles Week --what a pity I missed that in May.
And, last November's Nettle Eating Contest in Dorset... no comment.

******
Must get typing. Prize enticement if I type 1,000 words today...

Does the blog count?

(AND humph/hump/harrumph day expires on Thursdays. Actually, every other day of the week as a matter of fact -- it is a Wednesday thing. Perhaps this is an exclusive Americanism...?)

Hump (or humph) Day

2006-07-26T22:57:00.000+01:00

Today on her 12-mile bike ride, the Coonie has discovered that there are stinging nettles in GB.

Fortunately, she was with clever monkey, who (after initial open-mouthed look of shock, indicating thought patterns along the lines of, "WHAT in God's name are you doing trying to pick blackberries whilst standing in a patch of nettles?") knew that one should rub dock leaves on affected patches of arms and legs and fingers to overcome alkaline poison reaction -- or something like that. Foolishly, she did not pay attention to what this dock leaf plant looks like, so she should probably avoid nettles in future. Or keep minder close by. But there are such lovely berries in there and TONS more will be ready on the weekend, am quite sure!

Above is picture of nettle, just for everyone's reference. These do not look like nettles look in Louisiana and Texas -- they look like plants with pretty little flowers and ruffledly leaves. This is, however, the only traumatising flora or fauna that I have found here so far -- there are no poisonous snakes or spiders or creepy crawlies (yay!)!

*******
A game of Scrabble has also been lost this evening (due, no doubt, to distractions of nettle itch) by 100 points. So I must go to sleep and prepare to preform better at the quiz tomorrow. Maybe they will ask a question about nettles.

*******
NOTE: This site is now being sponsored by the Letter 'K'.

Paul has contributed knot, along with a handy little link to anyone with an alarming fetish.
Matthew is getting a bit out of hand and, while I have not looked up the words as am supposed to be writing like wind, have suspicions that he got some of his contributions from a book of Vogon poetry.
Paul would also like to point out that without k, there would be no knock, knock jokes.

furniture moving and wood louses

2006-07-25T09:54:00.000+01:00

Have entirely moved room around into new arrangement, while simultaneously providing Maurizio and Hiroko with an hour of entertainment yesterday afternoon. Everyone seems quite pleased with the outcome. The things we will do to calm our brains...

******
The 'K' kerfuffle (AAAAAHHHHH!!!!! HOW could i have missed that one? i LOVE that word!) continues. Kinky Kafka is a bit much, although perhaps they were not intended to form a single phrase by submitter. And I haven't the slightest clue what the Boltzmann Constant is (and do not have time to look it up in Wikipedia at the mo -- well, I do, but I am trying to focus on the organisation of this piece.).

Additionally, it has been brought to my attention that 'Auntie' is to be spelled with an '-ie' instead of the '-y' that i inadvertently used. I agree wholeheartedly and have no idea what the spelling cortex of my brain was doing at that particular instant.

******
I have learned recently that Roly-Polys are not in fact known as roly-polys... they are Wood Louses (or lice, but that just sounds really unhygenic). Our house appears to be a protected habitat for the wood louse and I am the only one who is not afraid to pick them up off the floor and chuck them out the window.

******
What is up with this American woman who is claiming to be a descendant of Jesus and Mary Magdalene? Why can't I think of something rubbish to write that people will pay money for the privilege of reading?

******
Someone in the house seems to have changed their phone ring to 'La Bamba' -- hahahahaha! They can answer the phone any time now...

*****
must get to work now.... (sigh)

kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.....

2006-07-23T08:43:00.000+01:00

1. Aunty Karen, with kiln and kayak (VERY good!).
2. me, with kaleidoscope, kidney, kingdom, and kiss (kiss illustrated to R, H with man on street in London. Sometimes inanimate statue is the best type of male...).
(Additionally, if Klondike were used, not as an adjectival place name, but in manner of Klondike Bar, that would be acceptable). Inadvertently, and perhaps unnoticably, I used the word knickers in last night's entry; and the word keyboard is on the bottom of my screen at moment.
Wow! We're on a veritable roll here. Must make more coffee.

Is 'Keith' a word?

2006-07-23T00:01:00.000+01:00

It is my contention that names are not equivalent to words (although some people have named their children after items of clothing, e.g., Pajama and others by which we are so amused.)... but still I seem to have gotten someone into a K'swivet, namely the person who was kind enough to allow an American to participate in Welsh go-karting. Oopsy! Perhaps I will need to buy him a Kronenbourg.

As well, several others have decided to point out flagrantly overlooked 'k' words (this is in order of submission, so as to prevent anyone else from flying off):
1. Matthew, with his kittens (can't believe that that didn't spring right into brain actually.).
2. Keith. With his own name.
3. a sign, with karaoke.
4. Paul, with Kodak -- which he kindly pointed out begins AND ends with a 'k' (and which I must dispute on the basis that it is a name).
5. Ms. Rosie, with knitting (OMG, where is my brain? This is becoming concerning.).
6. Eamonn, with Klondike (also disputed on basis of name item).

******
I would like to request at this time that my other friend-persons with names beginning with 'K' not get their knickers in a twist -- Katharine, Katie(s), Kristie, Kacee, K-k-k-ken, Aunty Karen, Kristen, Kathy, Kelli, Kneece, Kelsey... Keiffer (hee hee hee).

******
On a completely unrelated note (and to try to distract potentially vexed people), I have today learnt a new way of cooking rice: if you rinse it thoroughly in cold water before dumping it into a pot of boiling water, part of the starch washes off and then you can stir it all the way through the cooking process without it becoming annoyingly sticky!

AND, you can flavor oil immediately before cooking with it by adding spices (such as cloves and cinnamon) for a brief toodle around the bottom of the pan, although you remove them before beginning cooking. Very delectable smell and very delectable outcome.

Boys with Toys

2006-07-21T09:54:00.000+01:00

Have been informed by credible source that correct spelling is 'go karting'. But words that begin with 'K' are generally displeasing to me as they frequently signal 'fun with words' (e.g., kuntry kutters kabin or kool or kwik kleaners -- aaaarrgggh!), to which i am definitely opposed. Exception would be kung-fu. Or khaki. Perhaps readers would like to suggest other acceptable words that begin with 'k' for my consideration.

Went on exciting excursion into Welsh countryside yesterday afternoon (!) with Eamonn, Keith, Simon, Sharon and Keith's work colleagues for participation in a Memorial Cup race but cannot remember who we were remembering.

Why is it that females are much more cautious drivers, actually just more cautious in everything in general, but we won't go onto a tangent about that, than males? Why do males drive ridiculously fast, bump into things & push people over to the dirt?

Photo (sorry it's blurry) is for the benefit of Lisa McR and is simultaneously a homage to my J-Lo-jumpsuit-wearing Papa :) Look, Mama, I'm a racing driver! Not really, came in last on most races -- although must admit was incredibly proud when came in THIRD when the Car of Power was my draw from the lot!

The Car of Power pleases me.

And just when I was starting to figure out the tricks of centrifugal force and gassing it to fishtail around curves, the heats were over and (big surprise) I was not in the final...

Moonbat

2006-07-20T15:02:00.000+01:00

So, this interesting conspiracy theory video was in my inbox. Actually, it was a few days ago that it appeared but have been attempting to appear focused and responsible. Video appears to be produced by a UK-based organisation (from web address) and questions the claim validity of 9/11's Flight 77 being reported object that slammed into the Pentagon.

Anyhoo, when one decides to send a potentially controversial item, esp. when one has not taken time or effort to investigate origins, political leanings of origins, paper or plastic preference of origins, alternative video statements that vaporisation of a plane at 500mph is entirely possible (since one is supposed to be frenentically writing. and not on one's blog. smirk.), or really anything of substance at all re: origins, one should be prepared to be called a moonbat, i suppose.

Subsequently, term moonbat came into question by the British contingent (Matthew and Eamonn). Southerners LOVE creating double names and compound nouns, you know.

My version of semantics behind said term is: brainless creature spreading inane theories from UK-based loonies.
Wikipedia (props Eamonn) version: political epithet, originally known as 'Barking Moonbat'; often refers to proponents of conspiracy theories.

Readers may be amused by Barking Moonbat (from whence above image was borrowed). Or not, as the case may be.

And, Al, you really think I should be worried about that black helicopter that appears over the hill every time I go out the front door?

********
Now, must get ready for go-carting! As one does.

Boy, it's hot...

2006-07-18T14:27:00.000+01:00

...and what are we doing in this handbasket?

Besides the Middle East, both Paul and my daddy have informed me of 107*F temperatures in Shreveport yesterday. And thanks to Eamonn, this map shows that my 'part of the world' (aka, Loosyanna) is the warmest. (eek!)

And when it is so warm, and one is stuck in a woven carrying accessory, what better way to temporarily calm one's self than with a nice G&T. Have finally re-found amusing review from Liquor Snob. As well, and related, Matthew has informed me of terrible omission from London excursion: The Chap Olympics, sponsored by Hendricks.

*******
Oh, look! The picture upload link seems to want to briefly cooperate... me and Helene at birthday festivity (above).

And to R, Eamonn in Debtor's Prison Cell hallway (not really imprisoned), lower level of Southwark Pub. After some lovely garlickier than garlicky olives and a futile attempt of Hendrick's G&T.

More artsy attempts from Amrie
('Are you really taking pictures of your beer?' 'Yes, yes, I am. You got a problem wit dat?')
Additionally, this was taken in The Ship (also on the DWAT) and we got to watch a photo shoot with the tallest model outside the window. Everyone should be allowed to safety pin their clothes into place...

...get Syria to get Hezbollah to stop this (expletive)...

2006-07-17T21:02:00.000+01:00

This transcript is spawning discussion of an evil complicity between Blair and Bush -- but I can't see what the fuss is about that statement. Except that I don't think we should exactly trust Syria either.

Some other interesting items:
Sunnis think the US should remain in Iraq -- NY Times
World War III -- Newt Gingrich as quoted in Seattle Times
And I cannot understand why the Italian news site lists an F-16 as reported to have crashed in Haifa and it is not reported on English sites I have looked at thusfar...
Also, the US is going bankrupt -- Telegraph (on a side note to this, the $ to GBP is expected to go 2:1 by Christmas.)

Going to madly watch news now whilst typing intellectual-sounding drivel about FI.

Note to Self

2006-07-17T15:40:00.000+01:00

It is generally not advisable to launder black trousers in a washing machine with another clothing item in which is concealed a Tube map...

*******
Poodled on over to London on Friday for the celebratory event of Helene's birthday at the Woolpack. Had absol. amazing weekend of walking and walking through gorgeous weather that it was (and visiting impressive number of pubs along Dick Whittington's Ale Trails)! Eamonn niftily booked a flat through his company -- it is magnificent to wake up to the bells of St. Paul's and look out one's 14th floor window to see the dome on one side of flat and see Monument, Tower Bridge and the Gherkin from the kitchen window! Perhaps if am well-behaved, will be invited out in public again :)

There is a really excellent exhibit, Satirical London, at the Museum of London, which got the weekend off to a cultured start. This after a nice lunch in Smithfield Park (where there was a surprising lack of seagull interference... in fact, NONE!). Then walked to St. Paul's via the newly completed Paternoster Square, which is named after a central route that medieval monks of St. Paul's would follow whilst chanting the Lord's Prayer. It is a more than acceptable modern addition in keeping with the Wren architecture which it complements. There are some interestingly chic little cafes to try.

*********
Saturday: wisely had gotten healthful amount of sleep and so were up and walking by 10am. Route past Monument; past new memorial to the Siege of Malta during WWII (I had no idea that Malta was so important or that it was the most bombed place in the entire history of war); past Tower (through masses of tourist sheep); small detour through St. Katharine's Docks so I could check on my yacht; across Tower Bridge (through masses of tourist sheep meandering without a purpose -- 'There is strolling... and then there is going backwards!'). Got sandwich from Butler's Wharf courtyard (right around corner from Helene's) and ate lunch on boardwalk, before heading to Southwark Cathedral, Bermondsey Market (OMG! such a superb market) and Southwark Pub (where there are the nifty little debtor's cells to sit in); on to the shops attached to Vinopolis (am so pleased to have finally found Hendrick's Gin -- this is the most difficult item to find. There is a hysterical review of it that I read a few weeks ago when trying to expand my repertoire of descriptive and convincing arguments for the uninitiated -- but it seems to not be in the most popular list on Google any longer.); past The Globe; over Millenium Foot Bridge, past the Sports Relief 1-mile race (where we saw and photographed Colin Jackson, a native Cardiffian who, until last Wednesday, held the World Record of 60m Hurdles; there were thousands of people dressed up in everthing from fairy outfits to an entire wedding party!); down Fleet Street past Courts of Justice (the Old Bank of England was closed -- boo); past London Silver Vaults and to the Cittie of Yorke pub. Back to flat with purchases and headed to Covent Garden. Stopped in The Porcupine and then the Angel and Crown. Dinner with Helene at Henry's (not recommended for future reference). Then to Marquis of Granby (we see a theme here). Then back to flat for a weekend-cap with Helene.

********
Sunday: out and about. Less walking. Well, maybe not. To Westminster; looped around back of the Abbey and then down Whitehall with intention of cutting through down St. George's Street by the Foreign Office to get to St. James's Park, when spotted military parade of some sort which we watched for a bit before getting back on track. To Victoria Station, back to Westminster along River to Tattershall Castle, a boat which was used to tether barrage balloons during WWII and which is now a lovely place to have a Pimm's (except that it was not quite as dressed with strawberries and cucumbers as would have been preferred). Then to Hyde Park to read the papers before embarking on return train, with the loudest group of four female personages who decided to invade our nice area of the Quiet Carriage armed with a bottle of champagne, a variety of handmade Belgian Truffles and shrill opinions on every minute detail of their weekend 'up in London', including a description of a 'lovely seafood salad at Planet Hollywood -- no, really! It is just lovely!' and the terror and proximity of weeping felt by one of them being stuck in a taxi and in danger of missing train (if that story was told once, it was told 57 times. 'I was NOT going to get on this train unless I knew you were on it!'). It would have been much less amusing but much more of an enjoyable trip had they, though.

After such a train journey, and a little Heineken to soothe our ears upon debarking, clever plans were put into action to create Mexican food. Which was done. Hiroko, Maurizio and Kath were suitably envious with impressive and undertaking, although I had to keep re-iterating that this was not real -- Old El Paso provisions (they ain't got no Pace here), while useful, are not entirely accurate. So, this was basically a British interpretation of an American interpretation of Mexican food. Judith is appalled that queso was not included. Although, made my first attempt at guacamole, of which am slightly proud -- it had too much garlic and lemon juice... I know, I know, limes are necessary, but... shall just have to try, try again.

My new project will be to try to grow avocado tree from seed. I have been smirked at.

Twiglets

2006-07-13T09:44:00.000+01:00

Twiglets are a rawther intriguing British snack food (along with pickled eggs, fried Mars bars and a delectable variety of chip -- errrr, crisp -- flavours). They are listed as 'Hazardously Knobbly' on the bag and anything with such a claim must be tried (esp. if one is visiting the shop with a person who happens to love Twiglets and consume them on a regular basis and if one reveals to said person that one has no freaking clue about snacks named after tree parts).

Note 1: blogger picture upload button now seems to be on strike completely and will not provide deceptive option of even appearing to cooperate with the uploading of pictures. So persons without internet -- you know who you are -- can't even see pictures on printouts now... we must remedy this situation immediately! Esp. since you are unable to see a picture of a bag of Twiglets.

To return to soliloquy of snacks, my overall opinion of Twiglets is positive. They are knobbly. If they are supposed to look like twigs, they are from a pudgy tree. They taste like yeast and I cannot tell a darn thing about their healthiness as have not yet learned how to read kilocalorie amounts on packages and translate into my own dietary understanding. Although, they are baked, not fried and claim to be full of fibre (i.e., 'HIGH in FIBRE' in a little red box on the front with a check mark in front of it!).

Note 2: received another free pack of gum this morning -- oh, hoorah! This morning's testing was less enjoyable as part of it included Tricky McTrickerton maths like 'Working from right to left, divide the fifth whole number by the fourth fraction' -- WHAT??? They got nothing from me on that.

Note 3: I also like pickled eggs. Have no plans to eat fried mars bar, though, as that is just a bit too much.

Armenian Beer Urn

2006-07-11T11:44:00.000+01:00

This is one of the inspiring anagrams of my name as generated by Wordsmith (thank you, Eamonn).
We will not discuss any sort of subtle significance at this time.

********

Have just returned from second session in gum-chewing/memory study in Psychology department -- the things we do for money (and free gum), n'est pas?

First, did mood test;
then read a short story about a man named Mr. Kalada;
then had 20 words flashed on screen at me for 2 seconds each;
then had to free recall words;
then did true/false set with items such as 'AB -- B is followed by A';
next were the true/false sets for statements such as 'Madrid is a vegetable' and 'Pliers travel in search of food', as well as 'Alabama is a southern state';
then had delayed recall of words in list;
then identified from flashed sequence of words, which ones were in original group;
then answered questions about story;
and finally, another mood test.

I got to keep the remainder of my pack of gum.

Our kettle is broken ('...but first, I'd like to touch this rusty kettle.'). It is causing a bit of consternation as part of us don't use it and therefore do not want to buy a new one. But I would like to buy one of my very own that can keep for ever and always as I particularly like electric kettles as exotic and posh appliances. My simplistic enamoration amuses people.

On a completely unrelated note, have come to conclusion that seagulls are not cute beach birds which should be painted and memorialised. Yes, I have previously been attacked by them while trying to eat burger on Corpus Christi, Texas beach, but not with menacing atmosphere and possibility of real danger. Cardiff apparently has one of the largest seagull populations for a city... although I have no proof of this, just hearsay. So, anyhoo, we saw a baby seagull the other day and just wanted to look at it -- but were shooed down street by shrieking parental unit bird and I truly felt in danger of being pecked violently. The babies are really pretty ugly in a cute sort of way. And the seagulls here are fat and massive missile-like creatures. Seagulls have been in the news recently as well, not just for attacks, but also (and again, this is hearsay, but amusing hearsay) for the clever gull who loiters outside the eastern doorway of Central Market and sneaks in to steal expensive salmon from the fish mongers just inside the door when noone is looking!

Okay, must work now.

Additionally, today is double birthday --- Helene and Karsten!
Isn't it great to be 25?

Backscratcher

2006-07-07T09:13:00.000+01:00

So, our team won the backscratcher at Macintosh pub quiz last night.
This means we were the losing team.
Since I am mostly uncompetitive (except when winning), it was not a huge crisis for me -- and as Eamonn sagely says, 'It is not the winning, it's the process that counts'. Or something like that... I mean, hey, I wasn't taking minutes! And then silliness and inane laughter resurfaces.

Yesterday was quite productive as well... collected Group Embedded Figure Test and misspelling identification data from 32 Year 7 and Year 8 (13-15ish years old) girls at St. Teilo's School. Now must think of cunning and intellectual manner to make something out of data. Origami perhaps? Why, oh why, am I not knitting my dissertation? Or even this? (thank you, Matthew for providing ideas)

Additionally, Tuesday night was too late to post pictures (and picture quality was annoying me since people will consistently refuse to listen to my instruction that one must prop camera in candle setting onto stationary object and use the tiniest press of finger to push button -- 'Oh, no. I've got it... this will be fine.' -- why don't I just talk to myself? Oh wait, already do. Is that a bad thing?)... Exit soap-box left. Anyhoo, here are pictures from the Llandaff Rotary Presidential handover ceremony at Radyr Golf Club -- I just absol. adore my club! Above is Immediate Past President Jack Ayles and Mildred. (and now, Blogger does not want to upload picture of new President Peter Clarke and Mo... grrrrrr.)

Notes to self:
Heat wave seems to have briefly broken, as was actually chilly in middle of night and had to turn off strategically placed fan (without knocking it off onto computer, speakers, etc. and generally wreaking havoc in havoc of room).

Have been informed of family plans for family reunion without moi. Well! Shall be there in spirit, wreaking havoc... and it is going to be in August, which climate I shall not miss :)

Today is one year on from terror attacks in London.

Dolly the Sheep would have been 10 years old this week.

Just now decided in moment of ADHD (and while fruitlessly waiting for pictures to upload) to fully investigate contents of envelope of papers from mama and have found not one (1), not two (2), but THREE (3) containers of dental floss! hee hee hee hee! Thank you, mama :)

Light it on Fire

2006-07-04T18:13:00.000+01:00

It is hotter today here than in Barcelona, Rome or Barbados...

Am very sorry, mama, but you just can't get yourself all gussied up and make-upped and curled in this weather unless it is an absolute requirement for venturing into public. To console yourself, though, did get hair cut into layers by professional today and the lighter weight is marvelous :) Will have to have to invest in some shorts -- had this deluded idea that weather in Wales was going to be temperate with cooling breezes and lovely showers requiring cute sweaters (jumpers) all year long and so it wouldn't be necessary to bring extreme summer clothes. How silly was I?

Was forced to excurse into real world outside the back room of the Hobbit Hole today as am participating in a study investigating a relationship between chewing gum and memory. I will earn 25GBP for chewing gum and clicking buttons... hee hee hee

According to the radio in one of the shops today, it has reached Level 3 at 34C (=93*F) degrees in South Wales, but www.weather.co.uk does not seem to be aware of this fact, listing the high as only 28C (=83*F). There are some clouds in the east right now and I so hope that it pours down and lightnings violently tonight (after I get home from Llandaff Rotary President handover event.

Pugsley and Margaret

2006-07-03T09:02:00.000+01:00

This is Margaret. She is a Kune Kune pig, according to the sign on the gate to her habitat. She is quite one of the ugliest, cutest things, I must say. She and her partner, Pugsley, live the National Botanic Garden of Wales, where I went yesterday for the District 1150 handover of Rotary District Governorship. The ceremony and lunch, was held in a marquee (was corrected from calling it a tent -- oops. But my claim is that it was still a tent, albeit a glorified one with chandeliers), during which Ambassadorial Scholar sat and sweated like picture of creature above, failing miserably to look like collected, intelligent ladylike person. On a positive social note, I did not give in to tendency to find puddle of mud.

The Botanic Garden is west of Swansea, about a 45 minute drive from Cardiff. David and Sonya Worrell allowed me to accompany them, and after the ceremony, we ducked out from entertainment (or we all might have melted to our chairs) and walked through the gardens. The Great Glasshouse is this magnificent greenhouse which was excavated and the glass roof is merely the top of the hill -- it is the largest single span glasshouse in the world. Inside, are areas housing tropical plants from six zones: Chile, Australia, California, the Canary Island, South Africa and the Mediterranean.

Outside, in addition to a well-appointed complex of museum-type buildings (and an ice cream stand), is double-walled garden. The construction of a double wall allowed greater variety of plants, especially fruit trees, to be grown as insulated from cold weather. Certain stones were used in some walls because of their heat-holding properties and David told me that certain double walls were even outfitted with fireplaces!

It was rawther sweltering and when Pugsley decided to join Margaret in her bath, there was quite a bit of snorting protestation.

Note to self: do not stand too close to mud-bathing hairy pigs when dressed in nice clothing.

**************

Saturday -- biked 9.5 miles on Taff Trail to Radyr Weir (info approx. 1/2 way down page). A weir is a little pebbly, sloping sort of a dam thing; and there are several of them as you go from the centre of Cardiff along the River. These weirs have something to do with salmon and sea trout migration and at Radyr Weir is a spawning house (or something similar). Excursion led by mad Wirish person, who has actually turned out to not be quite so mad after all, and who provides historical commentary and interesting trivia along the way. Did I have foresight to take camera? Of course not. But am going to try healthful activity of regular biking, so will go back.

England out of World Cup. Immediately after game, Macintosh Pub had distinctly funereal air... grown men expressing emotion. And what will Simon do with 500 England hats? (heh heh heh)

Dinner with Italian contingent and misc. others on Sat. night, partly for celebration of Dawny's birthday (she is 21!) -- Fabiana did outstanding job once again. Must get her to teach me sauce-making before we all move away from each other in a couple of months :( Have I mentioned her good news of an 6-month contract in Brussels working with the UN -- media for Dept. of Transportation, I think. Hooray! Will now have additional reason to visit Brussels!

apparently have reached picture limit on this entry (why? how? how vexatious.) Am going to be forced to link through Flickr now, preventing persons without internet access (i.e., Mama) from seeing some pictures. (hint, hint, hint)

Your attention, please.

2006-06-30T10:49:00.000+01:00

Since this silly site seems to have gotten out of practice from uploading cooperatively, am being forced to trick it. Earlier blog of London trip refuses adamantly to allow visual aids. Stupid thing.

Yes, listening to Blue Man Group.

*****
To begin again where images were to be inserted from other day's entry...

Met Rotary contingent. Decided that although shoes were slightly seeming to incite nerve damage in foot, cuteness factor overrode pain. Continued coffee imbibement at cafe on way to Westminster West Rotary Club meeting at The Rubens at the Palace, directly across street from Buckingham Palace (i think the side entrance). Between Cardiff invasionary force and Americans in attendance, the actual members were quite outnumbered :) Notice little American flag on podium...

Walked through St. James's Park on way to governmental office sector and was so pleased was such a lovely day. Black swans and interesting little birds called moor hens were my favorites. View to R is looking southish toward Thames (military buildings through trees on left and London Eye above trees on right). People L to R: Steve Jenkins, Dani, Steve Rogers, Fabiana. There is a little cottage in the park that we are not sure if is inhabited or not, but it would be a lovely place to live. Arts and Crafts architecture.

Upon arrival at the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, we were metal-detected and issued visitor badges in very somber manner before being greeted by Chelsea Rotarian friend of Steve Jenkins's, who had offered this tour. The building complex is a massive warren that formerly housed the Foreign Office, the Home Office, the India Office and the Commonwealth Office. The Home Office has been moved from the site and the India Office merged with the Commonwealth Office, rendering the current arrangement.

Since it originally housed four offices, the central courtyard contains the entrances to each and is bisected by what was formerly a central roadway through arches and which leads to the front door of #10 Downing Street. Photos neither of the courtyard nor of #10 were allowed, although the front door of #10 was open so we peered through the gate inside :)

The complex was designed by George Gilbert Scott, who was selected by competition. After The Great Exhibition, it became fashionable to select architects and designers of official buildings by competition -- and then once selected, they were frequently asked to completely rework their ideas :)

Grand staircase (to R) is amazing and, well, grand. Ceiling work throughout building is magnificent (example 1 and example 2) and our guide was probably quite tired of waiting for The Dawdler (me) to take pictures overhead and of floor tiles, etc.

The Locarno Treaty was written here, actually at this table. The door to this room is massive, with hinges about as big as my forearm! Like a dimwit, I did not take pictures of the Grand Reception Room, which was being set up for a dinner... during WWII, this room was used for decoding machinery and in order to prevent it being detected by noise-sensing enemy, was enclosed in a ginormous black box built to the size of the room, covering all of the amazing decoration. The box remained until fairly recent renovations because no one was still around who remembered the magnificence that it is. So it was rather a surprise when the box was dismantled!

Got to see Durbar Court, where Queen Victoria would meet with representatives of the Indian provinces and British territories within India. The architecture is heavily influenced by eastern themes, up to the ceiling mosaics. The marble floor has quite a bit of discoloration and the root of this problem has led to a banning of red wine being served at receptions there...

Went into Map Room, but only briefly since a meeting was about to begin. Some of the building was not able to be photographed because it is literally a rabbit warren of offices.

We saw the Ambassador's Waiting Room, outside of which the IRA launched a grenade into the Green, although I cannot seem to locate the date of this attack online at the moment. The heaviest sheer curtains are hung at the windows in response to that attack and they are to prevent glass implosion into the building.

**********

Afterwards, had quick pint at a pub on Whitehall, right across the street from F&CW Offices, and next to the old Scotland Yard Building, which is now (i think) a crime museum.

Then, Steve and Steve took Fabiana and myself on the London Eye, since neither of us nor Steve Rogers had been before! It was excellent fun, and even though the vision of the line of people buying tickets was slightly more than I could have handled on my own, it went fairly quickly and was such good fun. See flickr for more photos of it.

2006-06-30T10:38:00.000+01:00

okay -- something has worked.....

this is only a test. were this an actual emergency, this would be followed by evacuation instructions.

At sixes and sevens

2006-06-30T09:34:00.000+01:00

Just so's certain people will know that am not completely mental, have finally pinpointed location in memory verifying that this phrase does occur in lyric form! Hoorah! And it only took me, oh, five days to remember... Isn't it wonderful how your brain does its little acrobatics at the most unnecessary times, yet will not perform when asked politely in company? 'At sixes and sevens with you' is in Don't Cry for Me, Argentina in Evita. Am also quite proud of self, since was convinced it was Andrew Lloyd Webber all along, despite sideways looks wondering if my Day Pass was up.

Note: still struggling with getting photos to upload into Blogger. Why will this silly poster upload and my photos will NOT?!?! grrrrrr.... grrrr, grrr, grrr. And there is no need (or time) to just write about places recently visited and sights seen as would detract from work that needs doing... or something like that.

Speaking of work, good news from Board of Studies last week: we all passed!!!!!! (whew!) Now can proceed with dissertation ('thesis' in UK is what is done for PhD; opposite terminology from US). Why is the testing instrument I need only available from California? And why would one need the manual to the test in addition to 1) set of 25 test booklets and 2) scoring key? Yes, indeedy, if I want the manual, will have to purchase it separately and at the unreasonable price of $40 USD (the other two parts totalling $60)... quandry, quandry, quandry.

Another note must be made of a brilliant new blog: Pago the Ninja.
Cousine Lindsey seems to have been contracted as celebrity ghost writer for Pago, who (as you may have surmised) is a ninja.

Backwards, not quite Sideways

2006-06-27T17:26:00.000+01:00

It's a really handy thing that personal skills extend to reading upside down and backwards since am now having to write backwards to fill in gaps. Do they want that information on a CV, do you think?

Promises broken... did not write about last week's London visit in timely manner. Am only at this very minute uploading pictures from last three weeks onto computer. B-a-d Amrie.

Monday night last, had clever idea that due to visit to Foreign and Commonwealth Office scheduled for Wednesday, should invade Helene's world above the Dean Swift. After brief and high-pitched conversation, such action (no thinking, just ACTION!) was encouraged and so departed on lovely and comfy Mega-cattle trailer on 3.15.

Once in London, stopped by Delfina to leave H's number for Dutch artist, who we met earlier (will enter storyline later in backwards writing; reason being my feeling of being responsible for this earlier oversight. We shall see if it does any good.), and began foray into high caffeine level in preparation for England v. Sweden game later. Met Helene (at another coffee shop) after work. Began forage for food in Southwark docks and ended at Pont de la Tour (our seats were outside at the second table from left in picture on site linked). Yum! Although the wait staff was a little over-attentive for us :) Proceeded to another establishment where (as usual) random people befriended us and introduced us to a Welsh spirit, Toffoc; these people worked for The Sun. More anticipation to see if we get the party pics that were taken of us... must hold breath. Okay, enough.

Got up Wednesday morning after watching Bridget Jones's Diary in the middle of the night; began re-caffeination process. Continued with highly stressful search for rogue denim jacket that H needed for trip to Aarhus. Left to meet Cardiff Rotary contingent at King's Cross with issue still unresolved, although (whew), it did turn out to be in frighteningly obvious place in bottom of shopping bag much later, preventing disaster of having to go out and buy a new one :) YAY!

Met Rotary contingent. Decided that although shoes were slightly seeming to incite nerve damage in foot, cuteness factor overrode pain. Continued coffee imbibement at cafe on way to Westminster West Rotary Club meeting at The Rubens at the Palace, directly across street from Buckingham Palace (i think the side entrance). Between Cardiff invasionary force and Americans in attendance, the actual members were quite outnumbered :)

Walked through St. James's Park on way to governmental office sector and was so pleased was such a lovely day.
WHY ARE PICTURES NOT LOADING INTO BLOGGER????? GRRRRRRR......

*******
must go to Rotary-do now at Archdeacon Lewis's house!!!!!

*******

Rotary-do tonight was in honor of the President of Cardiff Breakfast being named a Paul Harris Fellow and was lovely occasion.

okay -- 23.29 and am home fighting with picture uploading into blog. just because it is out of practice does not give it the right to behave in such vexing manner. i WILL bend it to my will! or give up and go to bed...

okay. giving up and going to bed. May try again tomorrow when in better frame of attack mode since the story of the visit is not really very much fun without visual aids.

(still writing and trying to add pictures, just don't want to lose this... will be removed upon completion)

Notes for today not requiring VA (visual aids):
Dawny will be moving to Huddersfield for PhD studentship in a couple of months -- OMG, hooray!
Apparently (found this out in chit-chat this evening) missed HUGE, MASSIVE storm on Sunday. How this happened, even if it were a localized storm, I do not know, as was out and about most of daylight hours and one would think that one would see a large storm on the top of Caerphilly Mountain whilst eating at what may possibly be the world's oldest snack shack (or some claim of historical note) -- what IS most certainly of note, though, is its burger quality.
Katharine has taken John to America and will be peanut butter mule for me! Oh, Peter Pan, I miss you so (although, not this Peter Pan).
On a sad note, Matilda the Gerber Daisy is now an ex-Gerbera daisy.

Midsummer Night

2006-06-22T00:18:00.000+01:00

Well, am only 14 minutes late. Fabiana and I didn't make it home from London in time to fully prepare for our Druidic celebration, so we'll just have to wait until next year. It was light until 11.00 at least tonight (fell briefly asleep in car and so did not make note of precise minute of light's exit).

Today, met Steve Jenkins, Steve Rogers (both from Cardiff Bay Rotary and our cat-herders for the day), Fabiana and Danielle -- the outbound Scholar from Cardiff who will be studying in Lyon next year -- in London for our visit to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, courtesy of a Chelsea Rotarian. (Reason for meeting, instead of travelling to London with, was spent last evening with Helene dining on Thames, watching England win, and solving problems of world.) First, though, our Welsh contingent lunched with Westminster West Rotary club and there were three other Americans there visiting the club as well! Random :) A Methodist minister from Minnesota, a lady from Iowa and her friend from Illinois -- they had all been to the Copenhagen conference as well and have been travelling around since.

Will write about Foreign Office visit tomorrow -- so interesting!... at moment, however, a) feet hurt from vanity of wearing Cute Danish Shoes longer than sensible before changing into Slightly Less-Cute Welsh Shoes, which admittedly have added bonus of not further irritating blisters from yesterday's vanity as well as not cutting off circulation to first and last toe digits of feet and b) shoulders suffering from idiocy of carrying overnight bag through entire central part of London today and refusing help from others as did not want to burden them with my silliness :) It was a magnificent day and also very windy! (this is not a complaint, just an observation... as I love wind, except in combination with lip gloss.)

It is time

2006-06-18T14:31:00.000+01:00

for Hiroko to come home from St. Louis. The silverware drainer does not get emptied unless she is here and it was really difficult to make those last two tea spoons fit in just now. Esp. with the scalded stumps of fingers that I have left due to the excellent heating capacity of our boiler. And someone needs to become aware that knives pointing upwards are dangerous. But as for me getting involved with that... maybe another glass of milk and a good book will make me forget :)

How is the weekend over? How have I not updated on marvelous trip to Denmark (or other trips either)? Where is all the time going?

About all can manage now (since am 'writing' busily for meeting with supervisor tomorrow -- no laughing), though, is supplying weekend update...

Thursday -- located calendar (hoorah!). Returned spoiled milk. Rode bike in sun to do errands. Read. Watched first half of Sweden v. Paraguay game at Mackintosh. Joined Katharine and John and friend for quiz. Was entertained by this mad Irish/Welsh person (John's friend) named Eamann (or something like) and contributed little to the quiz, except that LXXX = 80. Ended by annoying mad I/W person with personal stubborness so that he stormed off in fit of pique.

Friday -- More reading. Evening dinner at home of President Jack Ayles of Llandaff Rotary. Lovely time! President-elect Peter Clarke was my kind chauffeur. So we stopped to collect his wife, Mo, on the way... where I was baptised by Bagel. Bagel is the precious tiny dachsund with whom I went on the Llandaff Charity Walk in the Autumn (photos are back there). Being widdled on on one's way to a dinner party is not nearly as traumatic as burning one's hair off, but that should be a story for another time... (and probably my mama will be happy to do the telling).

Saturday -- 'read' and cleaned during day. And bought milk. Joined mad Italian group for viewing of Italy v. USA game. Was prevented from enduring overwhelming mockery as American since one of the Italian players was kind enough to kick a wrong goal, leading to a non-win for Italy :)

Sunday -- Corpus Christi. Cooking. Wishing Daddy happy day! Reading. Future should include typing, I suppose...

do what?

2006-06-15T12:40:00.000+01:00

... you'll do what you're TOLD!

anyhoo.

How does a person manage to completely lose her calendar (diary, in UK-speak) when she has been home fewer than 20 hours? This has rendered said person extraordinarily distracted, incapable of coherent conversation, and unaware of her surroundings or of where she might be supposed to be at any particular time.

Plus, milk purchased on walk home from the station last night is spoiled. There are few things to compare to the vexation of taking a greedy gulp of milk one expects to be deliciously sweet only to find the opposite.

So now must venture forth to return milk (idiot shop) and retrace steps and stops in desperate search for calendar... so if anyone sees me wandering aimlessly, you will at least know why i look so foolish (this time).

Gesundheit

2006-06-11T11:54:00.000+01:00

'Why is she even here?'

This is the question Jeppe and Karsten have just asked because of my cleverness in explaining that you bless people after they sneeze because of the ancient belief in expelling demons from your body or something. I DID get the Seinfeld joke... i just thought they might like to know :)

Am thieving wireless signal at moment, but shall have to continue rambling later as we are about to go on golfing expedition. My job is that of observer and comic relief.

Goal for the day is to not injure myself further. Yesterday I managed to fall off of bike into a gate while attempting to exit a park.

and we're off...

2006-06-05T13:13:00.000+01:00

...like a herd of turtles.

To London Town today -- evening with Helene and Co.

To Aarhus tomorrow at the utterly mad hour of 7.30 am. Meetings with universities and other fun people!

To Copenhagen on Friday. Will attempt not to pick fight with Karsten immediately, as then would have no place to stay. Rotary International Conference begins Sunday.

Home again, home again, jiggety-jig on Wednesday.

Then will take nap for four days straight.

Iolanthe

2006-06-02T23:25:00.000+01:00

What a fabulous Friday evening for operetta!

Archdeacon John Lewis from Llandaff Rotary, also Dean of Llandaff Cathedral, collected me around 4.30 this afternoon after which we collected Lord Lieutenant of Glamorgan, Norman Lloyd-Edwards on our way to Cowbridge for tea at Archdeacon Lewis's house with the rest of the party attending tonight's performance. After sandwiches, strawberries, chocolate eclairs, tea and wine, we drove to Llantwit Major Comprehensive School for the Cowbridge Amateur Operatic Society (CAOS -- hee hee hee) production of Gilbert and Sullivan's Iolanthe. Rotarian John Rogers's granddaughter, Sarah, was part of our group and she and I had a lovely time -- she is a pianist and an avid reader and we both think David Blaine is a bit of a nutter. This is a picture of, L to R: Archdeacon Lewis, moi, Sarah Richards and Capt. Lloyd-Edwards.

The Welsh word 'Llan' means 'church of' and Captain Lloyd-Edwards did cleverly tell me that Llantwit Major does not refer to the Church of St. Twit, but is rather a corruption of St. Illtyd :)

Llantwit Major was the first Christian site in the British Isles, dating to before St. Augustine came to Canterbury. St. Illtyd (or Illtud) founded a monastery here and it was an important seat of faith and learning, but nothing remains of it today. St. Donat's Castle is outside Llantwit Major and was owned by William Randolph Hearst as a get-away. Done up in the Hearst way with a hall imported from here, a mantle-piece from there... Apparently, Charlie Chaplin and the early Hollywood set were frequent guests! It is now Atlantic College, an international 6th form IB school.

Grand time, excellent fairy story (superb Lord Chancellor) and such interesting people with whom to spend an evening.

Shaft and Cheese-rolling

2006-06-02T14:35:00.000+01:00

Why, Paul Belcher, is the theme song to Shaft in the vast music file? I thought to myself, "Hmmmm. What is this album called 'Collection' and why is there no artist listed and why is there only one track on it? And so we are now enlightened. Thank you! Hee hee.

(Rightfully, you may inquire as to why it has taken me so long to find it... well, today, i cleverly figured out how to transfer files from elsewhere on hard drive into RealPlayer -- the horror, the horror. But i LIKE RealPlayer.)

To my KnitWit friends, you may notice some new links to the right, courtesy of Matthew, who does not mock people for knitting :)

He also has provided this insight into British culture (he is a foreigner here, too -- from Gloucestershire): Cheese Rolling. This is where an enormous cheese is rolled down a remarkably steep hill and after which masses of people chase in, not just one but several, races. Most of the video (handily linked below) involves bodies flailing through the air and a lot of flying mud, due to the rain of this year's event. Whoever tumbles across the line first wins the cheese. It reputedly has a rind on it so it is still edible after tumbling through mud.

Apparently, I have only missed this festivity by a mere four days. Words cannot express my dismay to have not been a participant in The Chaotic Fifth Race. There is always next year -- 28 May 2007!

If anyone can confirm that there is a nursery rhyme or children's story that involves a cheese rolling down a hill, it would be much appreciated. Cannot seem to think of this link at the moment, but truly think there is one there.

mouse in house

2006-06-01T11:31:00.000+01:00

My keen powers of naturalistic observation have brought me to the conclusion that we have a mouse in our house.

This morning, Maurizio asked why a piece of styrofoam with which he had plugged into a hole in the baseboard behind the stairwell door had been removed from said location and lay on the floor immediately in front of the hole. 'Tis a puzzlement!

Sadly, Georgia was not here to assist with this detective work as her level of hysteria sparked at the appearance of small furry animals exceeds that of Oma!

After lighting my pipe and donning my hat, a gander down the hall found tell-tale signs of various shredded items such as the aforementioned styrofoam and a suspicious remnant of black rubbish bag, led me to a preliminary hypothesis of rodent presence. Closer inspection revealed one final, albeit tiny, confirming clue.

Logically, this means we NEED A FELINE!

Oh dear.

2006-05-31T21:56:00.000+01:00

1. B-a-d Maurizio. A bread machine has appeared at our house.

2. It is nearly 10 pm and is still faintly light outside.

3. One of our houseguests (who is still suffering from slight jet lag) has informed me that it was beginning to get light at 4.30 am this morning.

**********
On a positive note, Hiroko may have found a free phone replacement. When riding my bike to the station to meet her friends the other day, her phone fell out of her pocket into the street and was run over by a bus. (If this weren't so vexing, it would be really funny. Well, okay, it actually is pretty funny. What are the chances?)

Here is another picture from Hay... something is vexatiously awry with Blogger and it is not allowing me to add more pictures to earlier entry.

L to R: Stefi, Dawn and me.

what happens

2006-05-31T08:47:00.000+01:00

This is what happens when the electrician arrives at your house at 8.09 a.m. But we like him, which is a good thing esp. as we seem to be seeing him rather frequently. (It seems to have escaped my tirade yesterday that our electrics have again been wonky, with the bathroom and Hiroko's room plunged into darkness for two nights. Just at the time that we have two of Hiroko's American friends here, bringing our capita count up to 6 in the house.)

So, now I am well on my way to today's hand-shaking state. But in a good way. An hysterically good way.

Since appear to self to be alert, and since downloaded Hay pictures in order to get Three Coffee Pots picture, shall post some of those as well.

*******

So, my best beloved children, on Saturday, we went on the post-grad trip to the Hay Festival-- Dawn, Stefi, Matthew and myself. This is a literary festival held in Hay-on-Wye, Wales (many apologies for the annoyingly tinkly music, but this was the more interesting site i found), which town/village/hamlet (although don't think it is a hamlet. was told what a hamlet is, but cannot remember exactly. think it means a town without a pub.) is known for its absurd number of second-hand book shops and antiques. There are 33 second-hand book shops. Am sure you can all imagine what a danger this was for me to make such a journey. And I made it out with only 4 books. They each cost 1 GBP. (such a deal!)

To R is picture of Stefi, Dawn and Matt descending the stairs at the Castle to the next level of tents set up to sell books and other necessary items, such as paella. Most of the day, it was spitting rain, but by mid-afternoon, it was perfectly lovely.

According to the site linked above, a giantess named Matilda built Hay Castle in one night and could hurl boulders more than a mile. King John had her starved to death. Okay.

The Honesty Bookshop is in the Castle grounds and has no shopkeeper present; you just select your books and put money into a little slot in a box for what you take. This is just another example of the charming British faith in humanity, which has amazed me on several occasions.

And, of course, we found some yarn -- well, Dawn is actually at fault here for finding it; I merely bought it out of courtesy to the local sheep. As well as a picture post card of the actual organic sheep from which the yarn comes.

how nice.

2006-05-30T18:07:00.000+01:00

Now that the sun has come out in force and with heat, our radiators have miraculously revived themselves after being inoperative for the three days of humid cold. Even the bizarre hot-natured person that I am had to shut my window completely for the first time since September! And my third toe on each foot is only now beginning to thaw.

To top that off, Bank Holiday Monday results in the longest lines imaginable at the Post Office. Why? After waiting in line at the Parrot-mascot Post Office, giving up after 20 minutes, rode bike to the Post Office in other direction only to find that line longer and to find that I didn't have the address necessary to post the absurdly large envelope that had to be purchased AT the Post Office, rendering my trip partially pointless.

Tonight, am going to dinner at 'the world's best Chinese food restaurant', the Phoenix Garden in Llanishen, with the Tatham family (my fabulous Rotary counselor). James (my friend, and the son) has found gainful employment teaching English at St. David's College here in Cardiff; this is cause for much rejoicing!

Still sorry for not getting act together for catching up. There is something wrong with my head at the moment :) But don't worry, Mama, you'll get to see pictures...

danger to one's self

2006-05-29T10:27:00.000+01:00

Is it dangerous for one's health to cut one's hand on a yogurt container while trying to crush it further into the rubbish bin (trying to use the 'proper' terminology in development of multi-cultural sensitivity) so that one doesn't have to change the bag? I don't think a yogurt container will give you tetanus. And am up to date on all my shots. But should something unfortunate occur, sue Tesco for having flimsy dairy containers and open a Feline Hospice in my name... a kitty cat rescue mission of sorts, NOT the other kind of cat house (but that would involve tricky business ventures in Germany -- pun fully intended).

Off to library now with Georgia the Greek. Immersion in books for a while should inspire some desire for procrastination, so perhaps will get around to writing about my interesting stories from the last two weeks and posting some pictures.

one of my favorite things

2006-05-16T12:24:00.000+01:00

... is tearing apart my entire room, digging through drawers, emitting the occasional vexed oath at things not being in their usual assigned location, grinding teeth, etc. before realising approximately 9 hours later (upon awaking this morning) that my extra camera battery had been thoughtfully put into my OCD travel folder last week so that it wouldn't be forgotten.

bingo in britain

2006-05-15T23:24:00.000+01:00

(well, it was actually in wales, but the alliteration works better. apologies to the welsh.)

They do bingo differently here. There are not little cards with 'B', 'I', 'N', 'G', 'O' rows that are called like 'B-14'. There are booklets with several games in them, color coded, with vertical rows arranged by tens across from left to right and then they call numbers in an initially confusing way. Like 'all the sevens, seventy seven' and 'five and nine, fifty nine' -- to which people respond, 'woo! woo!', which i am assuming is supposed to sound like a train, although the reason for this has not become apparent at this point. Then, there is 'legs eleven, eleven' -- and then the men cat-call and clink their classes with forks or whatever. Also, one does not yell, 'BINGO!' -- one calls, 'House!' in a very civilised tone.

And HERE, have conveniently located a bingo dictionary for those of you curious folks :) It is cunningly called Bingo Lingo.

The reason for this cultural bingo analysis is the fund-raising quiz night tonight at the Park Conservative Club around the corner from my house. It is to fund part of a new floor for the sacristy at St. Martin's. Sheila came by and collected me to go and we had a fun time, although they set the raffle machine incorrectly and so people who had low numbers had no chance of winning. And of course, my numbers were bought early and therefore were in the 20s.

Had fish and chips and now feel quite to have maxed out fried food requirement for month.

My contributions to the quiz were very limited. I believe that my most impressive answer was that Bam-Bam was adopted by The Rubbles... (although must admit had no idea he was adopted). Oh, and I was appreciated for knowing what color a plane's 'black box' is. Four US Presidents have been assassinated while in office (got that wrong). And who knew that constellations were called different names here? The Big Dipper is called The Plough. Yet another useful tidbit of information is that the term potpourri literally means 'rotten pot'.

*****

Yesterday was quite a busy day! Walked to Riverside market with Kath (Maurizio's girlfriend) and then, after helping Fabiana with her papers, she -- Fabiana -- and I went for a bike ride all over God's creation. Well, I mean, just through a small part of reasonably-sized Cardiff, but it was far in my head. We first rode to Roath Park (about 7 minutes ride from our house; lighthouse to R), through Cathays cemetary (naturally) and then to the Bay! The Bay is Fabiana's escape when she needs to flee somewhere. She has been quite more adventurous on her bike than myself.

All the way to the Bay! It only takes about 15 minutes, so really not that bad. Rode around the docks and around the side of the bay where the Norwegian Church and Cardiff tourist centre are located, where I had never been before.

In attempt to be artistic (and because they were so cute with their beaks tucked under their wings), took picture of ducks sleeping on a floating thing next to a big boat.

******

Other news:
The Northern Ireland Assembly met today for the first time in 3 years.

Bono will be guest editor of The Independent (this weekend, I think).

BBC4 sounds amused and bemused by the deployment of US troops to the Mexican border.

A water emergency has been declared in south-east England and water restrictions are imminent.

The new season of Big Brother begins on Thursday... HOW is this newsworthy? WHY is 'reality' t.v. still in our society? Shouldn't this 'cultural' item have imploded by now?

It is forecast to rain in both Venice and Paris for the duration of my trip. Oh, hoorah.

60 pounds???

2006-05-13T17:16:00.000+01:00

Really?

This is pretty darn close to $100... For a kitten? An ordinary alley breed of kitten? (yes, just happened upon another pet shop today, so had to go in and check out the kitty selection)

Fabiana and I have decided that we should just get a cat and breed kittens and sell them. But that wouldn't work so well, as I would probably run potential buyers away by excessively intensive interviews in style of child adoption agency.

The park was lovely today -- people were paddling about in the little boats, the seagulls were shrieking in their raucous manner and diving at each other, and everything is so green! But then I got cold sitting still doing my sudoku, so biked home. Am going to begrudge the hills tomorrow.

It's a sign...

2006-05-13T11:16:00.000+01:00

... of just how much I miss my Flee cat when I am soooooo excited that the little Word Help Kitty character has decided to stay open even though Word is now closed (this is really rather strange, since she usually goes away as soon as you even click to another program... but oh well!). In case anyone thinks me insane for this comment and doesn't know what in the world I am talking about, you can change the little Clippy Help character to a variety of other personifications in your preferences for Word. The kitty meows at you if you need to save before closing a document and it stretches and purrs. This is really a ridiculously sad commentary on my mental state :)

SPEAKing of kitties, I almost brought one home yesterday from Central Market. Am slowly luring Fabiana over to my side, and she even said "I think we need one!" The nice man at the pet shop let us play with the two kittens just because we had nice accents. The kitten that we want is black with white socks and a little milk mustache on her upper lip -- OMG IT IS SO CUTE!!!! Personally, I think she would look quite precious sitting in my window next to Mildred, the yellow Gerbera daisy.

Fabiana cooked a lovely pasta al forno (actually two huge ones! hooray, leftovers!) for some of her classmates last night and invited me down from my Sudoku lair as well. My contribution was strawberries (yay! they are in season!) and cream and madeira cake for dessert, 'freshly baked by local craftsmen' -- that's what it said on the bag.

Then we went to the city centre to (i think) the one pub in Cardiff that is non-smoking! Tried an interesting chocolate brew -- sounds kind of shady, but it was actually pretty tasty and not overly chocolatey. Perhaps a little watery for a dark, but am not complaining.

Think I should ride bike today. To the park. P'raps will do...

THUNDER!!!!

2006-05-10T20:57:00.000+01:00

And maybe some lightning, too!

It's all just rawther exciting.

Am so terribly excited to hear thunder that Georgia and Hiroko think have lost mind. (aren't they the silly ones to think it was still here in the recent past anyway?) Georgia has fled to her house to cower.

Have taken precaution and unplugged computer from power, so really should attempt to write some more on the remaining battery instead of faffing about on blogger...

But, ooh! ooh! a Storm!

Katharine and I now wonder if we are supposed to disconnect from wireless internet as well since it might be an electrical connection. Where is Maurizio when you need him? Oh yes, he's gone home to Italy for two weeks... blast him.

Ooh! Just saw lightning! Hoorah!

***************
Here's a little storm story:

They were together in the House.

Just the two of them.

It was a cold, dark, stormy night.

The storm had come quickly and each time the thunder boomed he watched her jump.
She looked across the room and admired his strong appearance...

and wished that he would take her in his arms, comfort her and protect her from the storm.

She wanted that...more than anything.

Suddenly, with a pop, the power went out...

she screamed...

he raced to the sofa where she was cowering.

He didn't hesitate to pull her into his arms.

He knew this was a forbidden union and expected her to pull back.

He was surprised when she didn't resist but instead clung to him.

The storm raged on...

as did their growing passion and there came a moment when each knew
that they had to be together.

They knew it was wrong...
Their families would never understand...

So consumed were they in their passion that they heard no opening of doors...

just the faint click of a camera......

****

Happy Birthday to Ole' Jim!

2006-05-08T16:34:00.000+01:00

Yes, indeedy. I almost called at midnight my time to tell him how fortunate he was to still have 6 more hours in Central Standard Time 'til the 7th decade arrived. But I think I was asleep by then.

He seems to have a thrilling day planned, albeit with fewer random surprises than if I were there. Doing some work. Oh hoorah :) Personally, I think he should party with Flee and Eliza Doolittle, like those two foolish felines could be friends. But that probably won't happen. Maybe someone should send another cat to Colonial Drive as a pressie -- hee hee hee.

Could not locate image on net of Showboat 'Haaaaaaapppppy New Year!' scene with Joe E. Brown (chipping away at my belief in the omnipotence of internet), which would have been creatively captioned 'Haaaaaapppppy Birthdaaaayy!'

But this is at least the man :)

And it will be captioned:

'Jolly Good Show!!!!!!'

Sadly, there is no funny hat.
Or a tooty, flippy party horn.

Oh, listen! Someone is celebrating by repeatedly honking their horn outside my window! I may throw something at them.

Sunday

2006-05-07T16:23:00.000+01:00

Just got home from parish lunch at lovely Italian restaurant down the road -- good fun. Although red wine does nothing for inspiring one to write 3000 words. Had no chance of doing the biscuit quiz -- not only does 'biscuit' refer to cookies, but apparently also to crackers (in american speak). Who knew? And who knew you could make up a quiz of 45 questions of biscuit names?

This is me and my friend, Sheila, taken by Francesca, who is nine :) Sheila talked me into helping with the collection today in the service. nervous...

(Sheila won a prize in the raffle that is a framed picture of the Roath area of Cardiff from around the turn of the 20th century, I think; and she gave it to me, so I will remember Cardiff -- isn't that the sweetest thing? This is Wellfield Road, about a 5 minute walk from my house. There used to be street cars in Cardiff and you can see the tracks. The building in the corner junction on the left is now a Starbucks.)

Today was a baptism in church -- the baby was stark naked and placed into the baptismal! Who knew? He was very good and did not shriek.

Gorgeous day today. Almost hot (hahaha).

Who knew?

Too bad am hermitting self for rest of day.

Last night watched interesting show on Owain Glyndwr, the last Welsh Prince of Wales. Yet another chip away from the Illusion of the Noble English. Yet another story of unjust oppression... similar to the Irish situation (in case I didn't mention that after my trip -- starvation from the potato famine's was pretty much the fault of the english.). Henry IV was shady (although he wasn't exactly responsible for the potato famine). A shame that Charles VI of France went mad, or things might have gone differently...

Then, a very interesting show on the Lady Chatterley obscenity trial from the 60s. Had no idea that this happened.

Then read some more about stereotypes and Otherness & went to sleep.

At the moment, there is some pathetic version of Robin of Sherwood on t.v. The worst acting EVER. There is no reason to kick at a flock of chickens. And there is no reason for this pitiful doodly-doodly music :)
(another cup of mead for me, please.)

Vote Blue, Go Green

2006-05-06T10:05:00.000+01:00

This is not new news, but as they are still commenting on it in the news and Fabiana has a magazine downstairs that reminded me of it, it seemed necessary to share...

So we all need to do our part to prevent waste (see yesterday's link) and conserve what we have left of our planet (including the French with their nuclear testing in Fiji). David Cameron, the Conservative leader is helping by riding his bicycle to work everyday. However, he is followed through the streets of London congestion by an official car carrying his briefcase, work shoes and boxes of documents -- hee hee hee. He is making other efforts to make his home more energy efficient, etc. but this is just amusing.

In other environmental news, there was a rather significant article in The Independent this week in which Ken Livingston, the mayor of London, recommended following the old adage: 'If it's yellow, let it mellow.' Now, mama, I am not being rude; just reporting the news, ma'am! This was almost an entire page of how the mayor's household does not flush toilets with only urine...

Another note to my mama to ease her mind: Bausch and Lomb's MoistureLoc contact solution that causes the horrific fungal infection, which can lead to blindness, is the solution made by the 'Greenville USA' (am assuming SC) plant. The solution that I buy is produced in Italy and the Irish Medicines Board has claimed no danger from this plant. Additionally, if you click on the B&L link above, you can get a coupon for a free bottle of other B&L solutions (up to a value of $8) or for a refund of MoistureLoc purchased in the US.