sorry + ammends

blogging is sparse lately, but so is time.

Teaching is taking more (unpaid) time than anticipated, and I can't help but feel a little bit duped. As in: I got roped into taking on this class just when their major assignments were due and the curriculum manager simultaneously managed to LOSE the course curriculum.

So I've been lesson-planning my little butt off (again, that's without pay) and The Front Lawn has taken a hit. I apologize, and offer a wee update of recent highlights.

- Dean and I bought and decorated our first Christmas tree. It's as tall as my knee, and oh so cute.

- We saw a movie we loved (Once) and a movie we hated (Beowulf) and are so very ecited for The Darjeeling Ltd tomorrow

- We celebrated the birthday of two good friends with a phenomenal seafood dinner on The Green. I had to eat my words re: Aberdeen's inability to produce unique restaurant meals. My seared tuna with wasabi mayo was enough to hold me over until the Minato feast I'll be having in two weeks (good thing since it cost 6x as much!).

- We had a visitor (if the Glasgow pictures didn't give it away). One of my oldest friends, Kelly Jacobs made her first cross-ocean trek and got to see a good chunk of Scotland in its wintry finest.

- We've been discovering great friendships. Dean and I have both been blessed with wonderful friends here. Sunday nights at the pub are never dull.

- The city is so Christmassy. Aberdeen has a parade each winter and the high street is strung with lights in the shape of polar bears, Christmas crackers, Santa and, oh yah, baby Jesus.

- I got to go out on the bus again. Once a month I get to be a part of a ministry to prostitutes in Aberdeen's harbour area. We go down in a refurbished bus, giving the "lassies" a place to warm up and have a cup of tea and toast, and some chat. Sme of them eventually end up in Teen Challenge recovery programs and get off the street. Humbling to realize how, minus their addictions, those girls aren't much different than me.

- Dean is going to Sheffield of Thursday. He got invited to do a wee talk at the Uni there. And he's going to visit Helen!

We're leaving Aberdeen in 2 weeks for a quick visit home. Looking forward to cuddling and speaking French with neices and nephews, dinners with friends, a spa day with the Regier ladies, and heaps of family gatherings!

glasgow and other nice places

A wee foretaste. The rest can be found here.

dublin (better late than never)

I've since been to Oxford, Glasgow, a couple cliffside castles and the Glenfiddich distillery, but such is the beauty of the good old days - I've only just now developed my film from Dublin.

Thus, without further ado, I bring you the Celtic Tiger in photos:

Lunch on St. Stephen's Green

Feeling academic at Trinity College


Foam fight, city centre

Doing a dandy Oscar Wilde impression

Regiers in front of Christ Church Cathedral

Dinner and freeflowing drinks at the Guiness Factory's 360 degree Gravity Bar

For the Love of Don

Temperatures reached an astonishing low on Thursday, after a pleasant week of tropical breezes. Just as I was growing accustomed to going scarfless, Baltic gale-force winds made their way into Aberdeen.

Wouldn't you know - Dean chose that day to nab us a pair of tickets to the AFC match against Locomotiv Moscow. For those of you not in the know (all but two of you I believe) AFC is Aberdeen's Football team - AKA the Dons, AKA the Reds.

The Dons have some fervent supporters - We know at least one Aberdonian who will not leave the house without at least one item of red clothing. On game day, fans stream up our street (not far from Pittodrie Stadium) in red & white striped scarves, shouting their indecipherable chants hours before the game's even begun.

On Thursday we were among the throng, shouting our own made up words to their ubiquitous tune. Snow flurries began moments before we scanned our tickets at the gate and persisted in push-you-over gusts on and off throughout the tie game. Our ears and toes and fingers froze (and were still tingling the morning after), but it was all worth it for the spectacle of thousands of Scots shouting in unison, fists in the air:

Stand free
Wherever you may be
Cos we are the famous Aberdeen

We don’t give a f***
Whoever you may be
Cos we are the famous Aberdeen

(Fortunately we had a Scottish friend along to translate)

What about the soccer, you ask? Well, it was alright. We scored one goal but I missed it... I was eyeing the steaming meat pie of the girl in front of me. :)

Bonfire Night

Dear the spirit of Guy Fawkes,

Why oh why couldn't you have planned your assassination attempt in July?

You really are a screw up.

Sincerely,
Amanda Regier

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

Last night we made the short stroll to the beach in the coldest of November weather to celebrate a big fat failure of an assassin. The fireworks were good - even by a Vancouverite's standards - the company was great, and I kept picturing scenes from "V for Vendetta," though no creepy masks were to be found and Parliament remains intact.

Dave scored some free sparklers and we girls relived childhood Halloweens. We gorged on Haribo gummies, made fun of Stephen who was flying solo on his "date night" ;) and rounded the evening out with a shot of the world's most expensive Baileys at a nearby hotel bar.

perfect Sunday

- egg nog latte (with whip)
- Gerrard St Baptist church with an unexpected appearance from a pastor from our Vancouver church - an Aberdonian, we learned!
- International market, spicy bratwurst
- New dress (me), new sweater (Dean)
- one on one time with a good book
- a nap
- a jog
- Grey's Anatomy
- a pint in honour of a favourite friend's 29th birthday

Only in Aberdeen

Rumor has it the Scots invented Halloween. I can't speak authoritatively about it's origins, but I do know that in this town it's a good excuse to hit the club in your underwear every evening for a fortnight.

Overheard on Belmont St. this evening:

Batman - So have you decided on a specialization?
She-ra - Well, I was thinking obstetrics but now I'm leaning towards gynocology.

I couldn't help but giggle.

Britain's Best Dish

My husband is nothing if not a bit obsessive - be it his work, a newly discovered band or a favourite T-shirt, he likes to commit wholeheartedly.

So what's been consuming Dean's time and thoughts of late? A daily reality show suitably named 'Britain's Best Dish'

Think American Idol for amateur cooks. Many of you will laugh because you know how much (ie how little) time Dean spends in the kitchen. Notably, most nights at 6pm he can be found in front of the TV drooling over starters, mains and desserts while I am the one actually honing my culinary skills in the kitchen.

Last week the show drew to an exciting finish with a Belly of Pork dish taking home the title, but Dean is still on about his own newly acquired cooking knowledge. He refers to the judges casually by their first names as if on the most intimate terms, and he takes the utmost pleasure in calling desserts "puds" like a true Brit.

It's all nice and cute until he sets foot into the kitchen and starts allocating random spices to my pots of soup or chicken or veggies. I'm certainly not complaining about having a partner in the kitchen, but it'd be nicer if he'd ever cracked a recipe book in his life :)