dreaming of a canadian christmas

It's rare to have a nice quiet Saturday morning alone in North Lodge. It's raining so there's no particular urge to go out, and most of the house was already cleaned yesterday for company. So it's just me, a mug of coffee, a space heater and a pile of dirty dishes, while Dean snoozes on.

Thus: time for an update.

Fare thee well

North Lodge incurred a substantial loss (in quality, not volume) when sis-in-law Jill headed home a week or two ago. No more girltalk or gregariousness, no more coming home to clean dishes, and no more weekend escapades to the countryside :( We made the most of the final weekends before she left, with a day at Hampton Court Palace (where our dear Anne Boleyn found a friend), a weekend in London (Lion King matinee, Tate Modern and yummy Wagamama) and a visit to Stonehenge and Salisbury. whew! When we do England, we DO England.





Some genuine cheer

As you may have read below, we've managed to fill the void with a little indulgent Christmas shopping, but modern materialism aside there have been some other blessings of late:

For one, we're hopping a plane in exactly a week to spend some quality time with our families. There was a fortnight of terror when there was a very real risk we'd not have our passports back from the consulate in time. Our highly-skilled migrant visas have been off for processing for months with no return in sight. Dean worked some magic this week and ensured they were in the post by last Thursday. They should be here in a few days. Thanks to those who were praying.

Meanwhile, I've been feeling pretty lonely since we left Aberdeen. I spend most of a normal person's social hours on a bus, leaving little time to make friends in either Oxford OR London and with Jill gone my social circle shrunk by 50%. So we're pretty chuffed to have found some fun/interesting/likeminded fellow Canucks in Ox. Heather and Chris Ewert (see Stonehenge above) are living just up the road at Wolfson College. We know they're great because they still come out to the pub with us even though I threw up in their bathroom after our first meal at theirs ;) - no connection to their cooking, I assure y'all!

Expanding more than just my waistline

Ask any expat and you'll invariable hear that there is something about the british winter that makes you want to retreat into comfort foods. Chocolate, milky tea, heavy soups, steamy pastries and seemingly endless biscuits constitute my current diet, but I've also found a really big weakness for mince pies lately. It's puzzling because I hated them growing up. After 3 years, British culture is finally getting the better of me.

Another feature of my hibernation mode (and the 5 hour daily commute) is a continued obsessive need to read. So far this month I've polished off two amazing Orwell novels, and a recent visit to Persephone books in Bloomsbury armed we with enough lit to sustain me through Christmas. It's bliss for a lonely kid in Oxford.

We all roll on

On the work side of things, Dean is pushing his publication count into the double digits - unheard of for someone who's had his PhD for all of a month or two. and I still am liking my job. The next issue of the mag comes out on Dec 22, so I won't see it until the New Year, but general consensus is that it's the best one yet. My senior editor and I strike a good balance: I make sure we push the ol' business school boundaries a bit, and she makes sure we don't make anyone mad in the process. The School is sending me to California in March to meet with alumni and schmooze with fellow editors. I've got a room at the Hyatt in San Fran, if anyone would care to join me for a day or two :)

so that's the latest. stay tuned for more over the holidays!

brace your wallets

Since Dean's sister Jill last turned her heels on the gates of North Lodge we've been making up for lost time, spending our weekends...ummm, shopping! Though admittedly less exciting than iconic Kent cathedrals or Sussex piers, we have still made some pretty amazing discoveries:

1. Liberty. Dean called this iconic London department store his Disneyland, as he drooled over racks and racks of APC apparel. It's not just a shoppers dream, it's also a designer's dream, a stationery-lover's dream and a crafter's dream. All the whimsey of an Anthropologie window, none of the pretension of Harrod's.

2. Bicester Village. There's an outlet mall just north of Oxford. If you hear 'outlet mall' and think Middle-Class-Heaven, then you don't know Oxfordshire. This place is a bargain if you were planning to spend £900 on a Fendi bag but suddenly find it on sale for £550! Ferragamo, Versace, McQueen, Burberry, Mulberry - if it's luxury it's there. Well suited to those who prefer to shop in fur coats and Gucci boots. For us it was good for a window shop and a couple Cath Kidston goodies.

3. Westfield. I thought I'd already experienced shopping overload. But on Thursday, after an Arabian Nights themed Christmas party at the Business School, I shuttled off to London's newest, biggest, shiniest mall in Shepherd's Bush. I was expecting the crowds and gluttony of Oxford Circus, but instead I got a peaceful stroll through all London's highstreet stores and more, without any of the shoving and jostling, noisy busses and Big Issue sellers, and no tripping over uneven sidewalks or blustery cold. I may never shop elsewhere.

teenage rock star crush revisited

Rick Astley
Colin James
Joey McIntyre
Scott Weiland
Eddie Vedder...

ugh. I won't say the musical crushes of my childhood reflected any particular good taste, but i confess there is one that still gets me in the gut a little when I see those brooding blue eyes (and please note, I married someone with a similar pair). I know somewhere in a box of old keepsakes there is a magazine cutout of Damon Albarn that I had my mom laminate to preserve. Long before his WOOHOOing caught the eye of the the North American mainstream, it was Blur that largely triggered my first interest in British culture ("what IS a dustbin?") and fascination with London accents ("where is this Heafrow place?").

So obviously there's a little part of me that is filled with glee at this news of a Blur reunion. yeah, Albarn is now pushing middle age and more concerned with monkeys than parklife, but he's still a bit of a hearthrob for me!

smarty pants

Hubby just called to inform me that his latest article has been accepted for publication in the world's best/most important health economics journal.

I asked him how many publications this brings him up to and learned that this is basically as good as TEN new publications! (for good measure, I think that would bring him up to about 18?)

It's no Focus on the Family, but hey, it's pretty impressive ;)

it's true what they say...

I'm not so into the celeb goss anymore, which is strange since I work in the tabloid capital of the world. Suppose it helps that I don't know any of the celebs on the covers of Heat and Hello - plus they carry excessive smut that is missing from the mainline US rags.

The old days of Friday For Play and regular brunches with my informants kept me up to speed. ah, but those days are gone (much as it was a good stroll down memory lane to find that old FFP post).

But that doesn't mean i don't still engage in a little stargazing. Once a month or so, in the throes of editing when i can't possibly read another article about the world economy, I tiptoe over to people.com to see what's new in la-la-land.

today I learned that little Miley Cyrus is, it appears, dating her father, circa 1990. freakyyyyyyy.

for my american friends

We could have used this a couple months ago. Noted for Thanksgiving future.

How to carve a turkey!

or, if I feel really ambitious...

perhaps it'll be doughnuts instead :)

cookin up christmas

Perhaps it's because Christmas is 'just around the corner' (or the high street would have us believe) and because we are going uber minimal on gifts this year due to flights affected by summer fuel costs and future house buying. Maybe it's because I'm working at home and our recent health kick means there's nothing to snack on... whatever the case, I'm feeling domestic-creative, thinking of homemade presents and and junk food simultaneously. It's led me to tracking down some really nice looking and easy-to-give recipes.

I'm all the way over here in the uk, so I don't mind if you steal my ideas ;)

+ chocolate truffles

+ almond roca

+ mini jam jar pies

orla love.

You cannot imagine the overall pleasure I feel just walking by the Orla Keily store in Covent Garden. It's just a visual delight and I can't stop gazing longingly at the bespoke furniture in the window displays and chunky embroidered bags.

I've long been a fan of her work (happy to say I've spread the love to my sis-in-law who recently purchased her very own Orla mug for her collection). So yesterday I stopped by the shop for some window-lusting (while sipping a little cuppa this) and was delighted to see she's now got a line of bedding! Too bad I promised myself I'd be frugal from now on... Birthday present perhaps? August is just around the corner ;)

shame-on-thames

oh Oxford, when will you ever let go of your old fashioned ways?

Sporting white tie to exams is one thing. Promoting racial stereotypes is quite another.

Interesting that this article appeared the day after Israel's prime minister spoke to an Oxford audience (my husband included) and narrowly escaped a few barrages by Palestinian opponents in the crowd. As Dean is unlikely to share his own account of the night with you all, I will say it was fascinating to hear about the multiple security checks he went through on his way into the Sheldonian Theatre, and how students droned "shame, shame" (a la house of commons) when objectors interrupted Peres.

ps. to prevent confusion: a 'Bop' is the Oxford word for college party.

pps. while Dean got to listen to a controversial Nobel-Peace-Prize-winning world leader, I was in London listening to a bank CEO talk about the future of microeconomics and commercial banking. Suddenly London life doesn't sound so sexy, does it?!

sky train

Dean sent me this link last week when i was too sick to bother reading email.

Seems London is catching on to the idea of LARGESCALE recycling. Fancy having an office in a Tube car? Guess you can't really call it the Underground when it's on a Shoreditch rooftop.

our favourite everyman

Obviously we are delighted at the outcome of the US presidential election and my pleasure was further enhanced while reading about the Obama's forthcoming transition to the White House. What's not to love about the new first family?!

Read it here: A Family Expected to Balance State Dinners with Sleepovers.

Oxtober

It's Halloween so while I should be plotting the next issue of the magazine I am instead scrolling through typefaces looking for the one that most befits a celebutante mugshot :)

Time flies. or in my case, takes the bus. but either way October disappeared and this is my attempt to determine where it went. Some highlights of the month, in photos heavily borrowed from my dear sis-in-law:

+ the graduate. deano got his thesis in the mail. all 5kg of it. it had a lovely dedication in it (to yours truly of course) in which I managed to find a typo. Guess it would have ruined the surprise if I'd proofread it :)

+ thanksgiving brought Canadians together, as it's meant to do, I suppose. I cooked my first ever turkey, saw a couple of old friends and met a new one. we had much to be thankful for, but our guests might have been more thankful if we owned a microwave (still working on timing a big meal).


+ the next day we went to stratford. dean stayed at home cause he thought it would be lame. don't tell him, but it really was. At least I had great company.



+ spacey. we scored two tickets to hear Kevin Spacey's innaugural lecture as a visiting lecturer at St Catharines college. and i left my camera at home :(

+ DNA. we're doing this thing. at our church. a newcomers group. mostly to meet people and hang out with our friend Jamie who leads worship. but the other great thing is it gets us talking and thinking a bit more about God and community and what the church is meant to look like.

+ Black Kids. our first Oxford show. or "gig" as the Brits say. or "concert" as the Regier siblings say. Black Kids were fun. I've gone to too many head-nodding shows and too few dance-your-feet-off shows. Must do more of the latter. It's no Commodore, but Carling Academy was certainly better than any Aberdeen venues we went to. the one big dissapointment: drinking Carling. blech! we made up for it with doner kebabs on the way home.




+ ghosts. we went on a ghost walk through Oxford the next day. The Black Kids lead singer's skeletal face was scarier, but we had fun and took along some new friends.

+ cambridge. last sunday we visited Oxford's nemesis. it was pretty and had a nice river, and a nicer Bridge of Sighs, as well as cream tea and a scary time-bending clock but I still like Ox better. We brought one of the afore-mentioned new friends with us too.


+ fridays. AKA serentity days. I may have mentioned that I now work from home on fridays. I probably haven't mentioned at it has been gorgeous and sunny every single Friday since September. no wonder I love Oxford.


+ i also have a job. work gave me a blackberry. oh yah, and a credit card. and they're sending me to San Fran + San Diego for a week in the March. and i get all these free lunches and afternoon meetings catered with wine. call me a sellout, see if I care. business schools are where it's at.

great kate

FINALLY, Kate Moss comes out with a Top Shop collection that I actually like... just in time for the implementation of our new house-saving-budget :(



UPDATE: sheesh! Looks like I'm not the only one who digs it. The collection sold out in 15 minutes at the Oxford St store.

clever boys

hey remember not that long ago when Radiohead's In Rainbows came out online and we were given the choice to pay what we want?

It seemed sort of crazy at the time. But a year later it appears the numbers speak for themselves. This works. We payed what we considered to be a reasonable amount for the album, and because we liked it so much we also forked over a minor fortune to see the band (in a veritable downpour) in Glasgow a few months later. I guess ol' Thom is as clever as he is quirky.

Of course, now that we're neighbours here in Oxford I can just call him up and get a pre-released copy of all future albums ;)

marriage of genius

What happens when America's best TV show is recapped by its best (arguably!) magazine? Pure indulgence, and this very piognant tally of GG points. Spoiler warning - don't read it if you've not watched Monday's Tivoed/pirated episode yet!

a century of the tube

The Guardian has a pretty little slide show demonstrating the evolution of the Underground logo and some iconic tube scenes of the past century. Worth a peek for all you Anglo-philes!

mail goggles

Drunken late night emailing has never been a weakness of mine, but having read one too many booze-influenced posts on the blogosphere, I can appreciate this latest Google initiative.

Essentially, between certain hours of the day when you are more likely to have been drinking Mail Goggles asks you a series of mathematical questions. If you can answer them within a given time period then you are considered sober enough to use email :)

Read about it here.

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And a goodie from the Guardian: the best election spoofs, with much thanks due to Tina Fey.

master of impressions

Dean and I just got back from Kevin Spacey's inaugural lecture at St Catherine's College. While not necessarily an Oxford don, he did pepper his lecture with some good jokes and a mighty fine impression of Jack Lemmon and of Christopher Walken. A quick google search reveals that's not all he's got in his armory. This Actors' Studio clip is pretty darn awesome:

Happy-Go-Lucky

I just discovered that this (one of my top ten films of the year so far) has finally crossed the pond. Much as Poppy's talking in cliches and circles drove me mad when we saw this last winter, it still made me smile and cringe and sigh, and all the things it intended to do. North Americans, by all means, go see Happy-Go-Lucky!

it's official

Hubby has just received sign off on his final batch of thesis edits. It's now off to the printers and soon you'll ALL be able to visit the University of Aberdeen and read the soon-to-be-famous work, Discrete choice experiments informing cost benefit analysis: a Bayesian approach with an application to genetic testing, for yourself!

Tomorrow we celebrate!

On Saturday we'll celebrate some more. A small contingent of Canucks are joining us at North Lodge for Thanksgiving. Now if only I could find a turkey...

The Great Schlep

Years ago I went through a stage where I genuinely hoped I would find myself a nice Messianic Jew to marry one day. This could be because all the Jewish people I've ever known are geniuses and hilarious to boot, or because as a people they're always at the centre of the global action, or maybe it's just because I'm often told I look Jewish and I like to fit in (it's the schnoz, what can i say?).

So I didn't marry a Jew, but I still married into a funny, doting family and landed a hubby who looks mighty fine in a beard.

Anyway, sometimes i come across things that still sorta make me wish I was one of the chosen people. Sarah Silverman's new campaign to get Jewish grannies to vote is no exception... makes me want to get MY fat Jewish ass on a plane to Florida to see Baba, darn it. Watch the video. Beware of expletives unsuitable for grandmas.

Schmoozin

Dean and I just scored tix to hear Kevin Spacey's inaugural lecture as the Cameron Mackintosh Visiting Professor of Contemporary Theatre.

oi! Living in Oxford has its advantages!

Speaking of which, we went to our first Oxford dinner this week. The head of Dean's research unit was recently named a full professor at St Cross College (after a mere 14 years on track). In honour of the event we had the privilege of paying $60 a head to make awkward conversation with midwives and epidemiologists for an evening. At least the dinner was good and my date was hot.

Meanwhile at the business school they know how to do things right: a new season of Sundowners has begun. What is Sundowners you ask? An LBS tradition - every Thursday evening students, faculty and staff enjoy a freeflow of alcohol, unlimited and at no cost, courtesy of lovely corporate sponsors. Hubby and I dropped by last night for a quick free pint before a nice dinner together in Londontown. :)

self diagnosis

I know full well that a Google search can't replace a visit to the doctor, but it seems in this case, I've found a pretty accurate diagnosis. harumf.

getting down to busyness

A recent email influx reveals this blog is failing to do its job.

I would love to blame the current economic crisis, as it seems to be a convenient scapegoat for everything else, but really my silence comes down to simple and boring old busy-ness.

It really has been too long though. So how about an update in chunks:

Yesterday I sat in on my last session of the Senior Executive program... and just in time too - as one of only 5 women in a room of 58 execs (notably the only one younger than 40) some of the participants were taking too keen an interest in my "work". That said I gathered more information than I can ever use in my feature and am excited about finally getting to show London Business School what I can do.

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The schedule of visitors hasn't slowed.

Last week North Lodge was graced by our dearest Trevor Meier, on his way home from back-to-back film projects in Israel and Swaziland. The dude gets around. Trevor wins the award for most devoted non-family visitor. He's now stayed with us three times in as many years and we love him for it, among other things.

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Since we are still relatively friendless in Ox, I've been busy cultivating a nice little social life here in London - managing to fit in one or two lunches a week with some seriously interesting women which most recently grew to include miss Kelly Warnock who has just moved to Londontown to begin her Masters. Last night I even managed to squeeze in some post-work drinks with the infamous Rees and Rusty.

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This past weekend marked the birthdays of three much-loved ladies: my best friend Julie, my adorable niece Sophie, and my stylin sis-in-law Jill. Celebrations with the latter entailed a day of intense London shopping, a jaw-dropping night at the theatre, pints on the pavement in Covent Garden, and then a lovely day in Bath on Sunday. whew!

Is it any wonder I've taken to sleeping through my commute?

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lastly, a couple photos, courtesy of Jill:

we were feeling wicked

roman baths in... where else?

Jill's 19th birthday kiss (sorry Derek, someone had to do it!)

new visuals

The first batch of photos from recent Englandshire adventures have made their way to flickr. Check them out here.

crash course

It's tough being a lit-kid in an MBA world. There's a sense that one must understand words like "hedge fund", "valuation" and "strategic innovation" in order to earn the right to use them :)

So this month, in addition to polishing off my first issue of the magazine, I've been getting a business education.

I'm sitting in on the School's Senior Executive Program, partly to research a feature article, and partly to understand all this business school mumbo-jumbo.

So here's me. In a room with 52 seasoned CEOs, General Managers, and big wigs in general. From companies you KNOW. For four weeks.

It takes great feats of charm and long bus journeys considering what questions to pose in order to engage a CEO during his 15 minute coffee break during which he'd rather be checking his Crackberry. I am frequently intimidated.

I broke some ground last night when I joined the gents for an evening of winetasting followed by a dinner of mussels, frogs legs, coq au vin and also some fillet of sole on a bed of something-or-other. Wine tastings and obscure meats have a way of loosening tongues.

Anyway, it's a timely season for a crash course in business education seeing as stocks have just suffered their biggest one-day decline since 9/11.

See, a month ago this wouldn't have interested me, nor would I have even known who these unfortunate Lehman Brothers are!

But suddenly my coffee breaks are being spent in front of Sky News, shaking my head in disgust along with my fellow CEOs at the horrible state of the economy, poring over the Financial Times, thanking my lucky stars I never invested with those fools (or anywhere else mind you) and speculating about the arrival of the next Great Depression.

Business School is actually pretty easy.

big stuff

This is one of those long overdue "proper" updates, and oooo, it's full of biggies.

For example, since we last spoke I married a doctor... or rather, the man I married became a doctor. My hubby defended his PhD last week and passed. As if there was any doubt.

Also, we got a new housemate. My wee sis-in-law, Jillian is now in the room next door, taking a semester pause on her path to becoming Saskatchewan's next big thing in science. So Oxford's not so lonely any more! Jill kicked into full job hunting mode the day she got here, and managed to shop her way through Oxford as she went. I have much to learn from this gal ;)

More exciting stuff: I've been exploring this little Island, and discovering there's a lot to see! In the last two weeks I've spent a day in Brighton, an afternoon in Windsor & Eton, and this past Saturday was spent at Blenheim Palace - birthplace the greatest Briton ever and home to a good many dukes and dutches of the same surname.

We've had our first overnight guests - first a friend from Toronto and her new British love, and now two of our bestest buds from Aberdeen are here to stay a wee while.

Workwise, I just signed off on my first issue of the magazine! In my mind the publication is definitely a work in progress, but it has been fun to talk with our designers and discover that our visions align and that we all see the potential this (relatively dry) magazine could achieve.

Commuting is still manageable, but is becoming more so as I'm moving down to 4 days in London and 1 in Ox... an ideal arrangement!

Photos of it all are on their way soon.

xo

a valuable lesson learned

There is no need to prove anything. Riding your bike through town in the rain to get a DVD (when you could take the bus) does not make you a more authentic Oxonian. It just makes you a girl with stiff jeans and streaky mascara.

good things, the Oxford edition

We've been Oxford residents for nearly two months now. I'm not sure this makes us Oxonians per se, but it HAS given me sufficient opportunity to fall in love with this city and the things that make it special.

I ponder them sometimes on my walk home - past quirky boutiques on The High (including Britain's oldest coffee house), and up Catte St past iconic sandstone spires.

Here are a few of my favourites:

Nerds - every university town has its fair share, but here nerds flourish. Perhaps because they are living their dreams of academic greatness. Or perhaps it's because they're finally permitted to be themselves - no longer concealing their love of fleece, RPGs and fantasy lit. We live across from the university science park. it's a nerd haven. Their older counterparts - the white-haired, herringbone-jacketed, bike riding professors - are another great Oxfordism.

The Bod - Oxford's library, the Bodleian, has approximately a gajillion books. Actually, it receives a copy of every single book published after a certain date (which I cannot find at the moment). The books are stored in underground compact stacks, so if you are looking for a certain volume, you have to put in a request and wait a good chunk of time for the book to make its way to the surface.

Oxford is still an elite institution, so regular old proles like myselfare not admitted, but I like knowing that all the great literary works are beneath my feet. Fortunately I am married to a Bod Card holder, and while this doesn't admit me to the Library, it does mean I get access to all the lovely College quads around town.

Boswells - Boswells is an independent department store in the heart of town, totally unique to Ox. It is a somewhat ramshackle affair with everything crammed into three disjointed floors, but they sell EVERYTHING there. The cashier is straight of a movie with his Albert Einstein hair and specs pushes down on his nose while he fumbles with your purchases. The perfect mom'n'pop shop.

Preppy togs - For every nerd in Oxford there is a Pimms-drinking crew-rowing Abercrombie-wearing"public school" kid. They love their Jack Wills button downs, loafers, ribbon belts, side-parts etc etc etc. Though never much of a prep myself, I just can't resist it. You will currently find me in cuffed jeans and plaid shirt, sartorial guard down.

One-speeds - nothing says Oxford like a black sit-up-and-beg one-speed. While practicality dictated my choice of an 18-speed road bike, I did nearly put down more money on a nearly useless cruiser, just because it looked cool.

scottish pride

Subtitle: Making my own national identity

Preamble:
Though it's mildly fallen out of fashion in North America, the British still loooove to be PC. A large part of this is ensuring ethnic diversity in companies. As such, any job application you fill out requests that you identify yourself with one of a long list of racial groups.

Other objections aside (potential for reverse discrimination etc) I always resent being made to choose. Afterall, I could check the box beside "White - English", but that would preclude me checking the box beside "White - Irish", and checking either would mean denying my paternal "White - German" heritage, which is not even agiven option (obviously neither is the "Colour withheld - Canadian" classification). You can understand my predicament.

Solution:
I went to Brighton this week, too briefly, to meet with our design agency.

Over lunch, our designer Fiona asked me how long I'd been living here.

My straightforward reply was, "well, we've been in England for about a month, but we lived in Scotland for almost two years before that."

She guffawed and made me repeat what I'd said for the rest of the table. They all reacted with similar glee, but the joke was lost on me!

Someone explained that they would never make that distinction, and before I could explain that this was because they're not Scottish, the onslaught began:

"I confess I'm bothered by the increasing number of Scottish accents in parliament."

"Sure, they want 'independence' but they don't want FINANCIAL independence!"

"Andy Murray was such an arse at Wimbledon."

"The oil industry isn't as significant to our economy as they think."

"The only good things to come out of Scotland are whiskey and footballers!"

"Haggis is vile."

"It's bloody cold in Aberdeen, why would anyone live there?"

okay, so the last comment was mine...

All this to say, I suddenly felt VERY defensive. I made my case - haggis is quite nice with a spot of gravy - but no one was convinced of Scotland's merits.

I had an inward pout and it occured to me that Scotland has become part of my identity (though yes my accent is rubbish). Sure, I have my own things to say about Scottish food and weather, but that's just it - I feel I've sort of earned my right to slag Scotland, in the same way black kids are allowed to use racial slurs. I know and love the people there, and can even understand the crazy North East Doric.

On the train home, I resolved that my British identity henceforth shall be connected to the Scots. Kilts and thistles and Mel Gibson statues and all that jazz. No more puzzling over check boxes!

bank holiday music deposit

It's a lazy Monday morning for me, but the academic is at work... this means some overdue me-time, ie get all the crap done that I've been putting off: namely cleaning the house, getting things drycleaned, and running around town getting all the things I need for a certain new housemate who's arriving in less than two weeks! It also means a post or two on the ol' Front Lawn!


I'm always hesitant to share new music discoveries at the risk that they are old news back on North America.

Our recent visit home made me aware that radio offerings in the UK actually DO differ from those in Canada. Thus, across the Atlantic you are still deprived of our favourite Scani-pop sensation: Alphabeat.

For a few sugary tracks that will be bouncing in your head all day, find them on youtube:

Fascination



Other great tracks:
10,000 Nights
Boyfriend (for a bit of an early-80s Madonna throwback)

enjoy!

Be a better urbanite

This TimeOut piece can certainly apply to any city dweller:

30 ways to be a better Londoner.

Lessons from London #1

Wet city sidewalks and flip-flops don't mix well... unless of course you plan on ALSO mixing your ass with asphalt.

Falling in the middle of rush hour on Baker St would probably have been a lot more funny if I hadn't been on my own. And if there had been no large puddles in close proximity. boo hoo.

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

Lately I've been appreciating my size. No, not just the ol' bigger-they-are-harder-they-fall number, but all this time on busses and airplanes has shown me that legroom is a prized commodity. And I always have plenty of it.

twenty-eight

In the morning, walking to the bus, I gauge my lateness by the others I pass: the Chinese lady who wears her backpack as frontpack, the man in the tracksuit, the lady in turquoise Crocs. Today I saw them much further along in their commute because I spent an extra few minutes in bed enjoying birthday cuddles.

Last week, visiting home, I could also gauge my oldness by the others I passed: niece and nephew who can now engage in full-on conversation (when they slow down long enough), a grandfather - half the size I remember him - who's at the end of life's final season, parents who I now talk to about real adult issues, and highschool friends - 10 years later - who are so accomplished with whole families and careers and levels of maturity you were sure we'd never reach.

I guess all this means I'm a "grownup".

Home was blissful. Vancouverites are so spoiled. I hope you guys know that.

We made the most of it: exploring Denman island with a favourite couple, cruising on Dad's boat to a floating pub and picking our dessert off the nearby blackberry bushes, sunning poolside and flipping the kiddies off my shoulders, saying goodbye to my only surviving biological grandparent, meeting my little cousin's fiance over dinner with a hilarious crew of Smiths (and honorary Smiths), eating sushi and sipping warm beer with friends on the beach (sunset backdrop, of course), brunching with best girls and BBQing with best couples. whew! Throw in 5 trips to the aiport and you won't need to ask why our schedule was so inaccessible.

The icing on the cake was, of course, my ten year reunion. TEN YEARS! Jules and I managed to spend two full hours laughing over all the evening's comedic moments before we finally hit the sack that night.

a week of visits!

Our first North Lodge dinner guests will arrive in Oxford this evening! Jason and Nina Lui are making a detour from their London explorations to pay us a wee visit.

We'd hoped to picnic in the park, but it seems summer was just enjoying a brief stop-over in England last week. Even with the rain, I'm so excited to have dear friends from home here with us.

Come Thursday I'll get another visit with a friend when Amanda Goletto makes an overnight Heathrow stop en route to Africa. Living in a world hub certainly has its advantages.

Because of the busy week ahead, Deano and I enjoyed the chillest of weekends. Sleeping in, treating ourselves to shmancy bread at a local patisserie, climbing the tower at the University Church of St. Mary the Virgin to get a good view of our city, and making some serious progress on our garden.

In fact, i spent nearly 4 hours doing yard work that day. As kids a common punishment was to spend an hour weeding in the yard, and I'm not sure when this task made the transition from torture to leisure. But I found my Saturday afternoon entirely therapeautic - thorn-pricks and all.


Talking to my mom later that night, she pointed out that gardening is in my blood. My grandfather was passionate about plants, fanatical about flowers. My mom's reminder was poignant for me: among other things, like my love of story and my interest in people, perhaps my interest in gardening is part of my inheritance. I like that idea. And if I'm right, then there may be a green thumb for me yet!

new stomping grounds

We've talked about the commute, now how about the job?

Fact is, all my preconceived notions about my place of employ (which I typically refrain from typing out due to the prevalence of GoogleAlerts in university press offices) were false. It's actually a pretty chill, happy, enjoyable place to work.

Contrary to my belief that my fellow employees would be stuffy and overly driven, they are interesting and interested people of all ages - I'm not the baby, and above all I'm treated as an equal by those who have been in the biz decades longer than I.

My current office is on the top floor of a row house, with the External relations team on floors below. It gets a bit lonely up here, but there is an overall sense of autonomy - as long as the job gets done then I can essentially come and go as I please. For me an ideal working environment.I cannot complain.

But what makes it worth the equivalent of a daily drive to Kamloops? The City itself.

Lunch in Regents Park. Post work shopping on Oxford street (when I can brave the crowds). And, bliss, Marylebone High Street - home of the iconic Conran shop where I can while away an entire lunch hour (who needs food when there's classic design).

I still smile when I alight from the bus in Oxford each night. It's a good place to call home. But London is a good place to pass summer days.

great london walks

For locals and visitors: a little gem from Time Out London.

Custom walks around the city with themes ranging from Street Art to Victorian pubs. Enjoy!

the hired help

So let's talk about this commute.

Leave the house at 6:30. Catch at 6.45 bus. Arrive in London at 8.45. Land at the London Business School roughly 7 minutes later.

That's 2.5 hours from point A to point B, or just 2 hours on a good day.

The return journey makes at total 4 - 5 hours.

The week makes 20 - 25 hours.

oh crap.

This was the primary topic of conversation with friends and coworkers last week. "Commuting from Oxford?! By bus?!" is the first 'question' i'm asked. In reality, the average Londoner's commute isn't much less, but Oxford seems so rural to these city folk.

And in answer to their next question I explain how the bus IS actually faster than taking the train, and to the next I reply, it's nice to enjoy the peace of a small-ish town after the bustle of Baker St.

So the number one topic on my mind this past weekend: time-saving techniques and maximizing time with hubby... specifically, the sensibility of hiring outside help: a cleaner.

When it was first proposed it seemed a laughable concept, but a full week (and multiple conversations with those in similar situations) in, I realize this could be bliss. Admittedly, it's a big psychological hurdle to leap for a Canadian suburban kid: have someone come in to do your chores. Unthinkable! But when my homemaker-extraordinaire mother, of all people, made this suggestion i took it as permission.

Other time-saving solutions on the table:
- ordering groceries online
- a London date night every fortnight
- working on the bus and delaying my arrival by an hour or so
- M&S readymade meals :)

finding my footing

So now that I'm a londoner by weekday, my feet have become a matter of great importance.

In between busses and trains, these tootsies are an essential mode of transport - the implications of which I'm deeply considering.

In every big city there is a contingency of women - yes all women, because men have the luxury of comfort AND style - who think it's accetable to pair bobby socks and trainers with tights and skirts, if not for the whole day, then at least for the walk to the office.

My view on trainers beyond the gym needs no explanation - akin to wearing Lulus to brunch - simply not to be done. But that doesn't mean I haven't looked at alternatives.

Yesterday I donned flipflops for the 15 minute schlep through Oxford, and switched to cute heels on the bus. But the London streets are unkind, and within minutes of my arrival I had lost a heel base. harumf. Thank heavens for Oxford Street. By lunch I had a nice purple shiny new pair of flats, and my heels were in for repairs (third time round).

New shoes cause blisters. I scuttled around in flipflops the remainder of the day hoping none of these posh Londoners took offense.

Today's happy compromise is gladiator sandals.

A question to the city kids out there: Any tricks for handling an on-foot commute in style?

a photo to start

It's bed time to be sure, with my 2-hour morning commute looming ahead, but Dean's off at a LAME conference in BORING Rome for the week, so there is not much incentive to sleep just yet.

We left Aberdeen two weeks ago, which suggests I'm overdue for some thoughts on life in Oxford. Stay tuned for some this weekend. In the meantime, I'll leave you with one of Dean's photos of North Lodge, from our back garden.

from the Ed.

Since internet is still unreliable at North Lodge, I'm dropping in from Day 2 at the new job to assure everyone that the 2 hour (each way, not including the 10 minute walk through Ox) commute has not deterred me, and the job so far is a gooder.

London was sunny and warm today and I joined in on an outdoor lunch in Regents Park with the Alumni Directors of the top ten business schools in the world. I forgot that I enjoy university gossip!

The first few days have involved lots of listening and soaking - just the way any job should begin.

On an unrelated note, to my friends in the UK, I've dropped my mobile one too many times and it died last weekend taking all your numbers with it. If you think of it, could you please email your mobile numbers to me at thefrontlawn@gmail.com. I have a new phone, but my number remains the same.

invasions

In our 2(ish) years in the UK, I’ve come to pity the unfortunate residents of sunny seaside towns in Italy and Spain – every spring, flocks of pasty white Brits descend on their shores, crowd their shops, get drunk in the bars and generally blemish the fashionable landscape (while Brits are, on the whole, trendy, they don’t do beach-wear well).

A week into life in Oxford I’ve discovered how the Continent gets its revenge: come summer these parents cleverly ship their children off in droves… to Oxford. What should be a country haven, is instead a traffic jam of Evisu/ D&G-clad teens, jumping the queue in Sainsbury’s, loitering on the high street, littering in the canals, and snogging in the parks.

As a relative newcomer to Oxford, I know I have little right to complain (or to use words like snogging, for that matter), after all, I’ve only been here as long as they. But when those kids in their purple skinny jeans start trying to open my front door while I’m curled up in front of the TV at night, I think I’m entitled to feel mildly affronted!

This morning, the ruckus of a thousand suitcases rolling their way towards the train station was a far sweeter sound than the wedding bells that later chimed at Magdalen College. The invasion is nearly over.

Here at North Lodge we’re also dealing with a second invasion… ANTS! We’re learning that living in a Victorian cottage comes with more charms than we bargained for: spiders, woodbugs, and a never ending trickle of six-legged friends eager to commit suicide in a lovingly made jug of GoodHost iced-tea.

Either because of the cold, the distance from plants, or just the height of our Aberdeen tenement flat, we've never had to deal with this kind of infestation. Obviously not leaving sugary drinks out overnight is a start, but does anyone have any other suggestions for taming an army of ants?

from the house in norham gardens

Internet has been spotty this week, putting a damper on the many things I've wanted to share!

Above all other good news, summer came to the United Kingdom yesterday. After 2 days of busy-beeing around town on various errands, I rewarded myself by spreading a blanket out in the park (AKA our back yard) and plotting future weekend adventures. Dean and I spent the evening exploring two nearby neighbourhoods. We are still stumped as to where we can find groceries nearby - the closest supermarket is 10-15 minutes away and typically has a queue out the door. For all its slumminess, at least King St had convenience in its favour!

So just briefly the highlights... in the last four days we have:
+ celebrated Dean's 30th birthday with the best dessert in Oxford
+ caught up with a friend from some long-ago European adventures
+ braved the box store hell that is Milton Keynes in the name of cheap swedish homewares
+ picnicked by the canal, calling out encouragement to those punting by
+ seen Dean off to his first day of work at the University
+ pretty much fallen in love with this stunning city

all the rest has been painful details like sorting out railtravel to london (and determining whether it's actually worth selling our firstborn to pay for it) and trying to figure out creative decor solutions in a furnished house with green carpet!

Tomorrow I'll sit down and catch up on email. stay tuned

gone

I've got 13 minutes left at the College, on hold with Scottish Hydro Electric and then we're away.

The Honda Jazz/Fit is living up to its North American name - we've fit a shocking amount of possessions in that car.

Internet should be all hooked up when we arrive in Ox, so you'll be hearing from me again soon!

wish us luck on these rainy roads!

commitment

This weekend we've experienced two very important variations of commitment.

1. marriage: Our good friends David and Cheryl made their vows yesterday in front of 100 well-dressed witnesses. It was certainly one of the most beautiful weddings we've ever been - our first in the UK - and hands-down the best dinner company.


2. major purchases: Today we bought a car. Yep. We'll be making our way down to Oxford in a very adorable 2004 Honda Jazz (AKA Fit). Turns out the Regiers are not so good at branching out when it comes to car makes, but you won't hear me complaining!

big smoke

So, I guess I just won the lottery.

Well, in the sense that I'm about to be getting a lot more money than I ever thought I would, that I'm a bit shell-shocked, and that I'm not quite sure what to do with myself.

I got the job in London, and yah, it's impossible to turn down in spite of the commute and the demanding role. It's just too good. Minus the Oxford-London commute :)

When I call and accept tomorrow, I'll be the editor of an alumni publication at the second best business school in the world. I'll be working with a seasoned editor (and MBA holder) for the first six months or so, and then I'll be taking the reigns of a quarterly magazine. WOW. I know I'm capable, because I've done it before. But I'm still astonished to be offered a job like this. First and only job I applied for in London. It seemed like such a long shot.

We'll have a week to settle into Oxford before we both start our new gigs. Dean at Oxford, me at the Business School. From then on I'll be in full work mode, but on the upside I'll also be devouring books on the train each day, lunching in Regent's Park, nipping down to Selfridges after work (or Muji, or the Conran Shop)...

More excited than I thought I would be. It's one thing to live near and work in London. It's another thing to have the income to enjoy it. We are really blessed.

waterfalls

As Olafer Eiasson's waterfall installations around New York garner plenty of attention, I quite enjoyed this little NYTimes slide show about the city's 'indigenous' waterfalls.

concluding remarks

Yesterday my hubby officially submitted his PhD thesis. He is very smart. I know this because I read the entire paper which he spent the last three years writing (with the exception of the 17 appendices, which essentially double the length of the thesis) and it was not only well written, but contained math that I will never grasp.

Tonight we plan to celebrate big style... or as big as it gets with us Regiers: with pints and single malts at Under the Hammer. You are invited (9ish).

So while these are not actually concluding remarks as far as thefrontlawn is concerned, they do indicate the end of a significant period: Dean’s student career and our life in Aberdeen (only nine days remain).

I’m already sitting in a dreamy pool of reminiscence as I consider our time in Scotland. Admittedly my relationship with these highlands has been love-hate, but I have a knack for weeding out the bads (though, the Baltic wind and rain may stay with me for some time yet).

anyway, some updates:

+ my twin sis arrives on Thursday for visit #3. She’s already seen most of these parts so I’m going to recruit her to do my packing and cleaning while her beau is at work during the day ;)

+ I got a call from the business school of bad-interview fame. Shockingly I am still in the running. Even more shocking is the astronomical salary this job pays... which would make it impossible to turn down an offer. Part of me (the part that wants a life in Oxford) kinda hopes they make it easy for me and tell me to take a hike. I'll know in about a week.

+ We got possession of North Lodge today. If we were actually in Oxford already, I’d be on a train to celebrate Canada Day in Trafalgar Square. Very much looking forward to our new proximity to Londontown.

+ This Friday we go to our first British wedding (actually two Northern Irish kids but it’s in a Scottish stately home). Question: should I wear a hat?

one last cappuccino

On Monday night I revealed myself as the true sap (or sucker, depending on who you ask) that I am.

You may not know that, while I’ve been working full time in PR and Marketing at the College, I’ve also maintained one night a week at Starbucks. Why? Mostly because I like the people, the free coffee, and feel justified when I take home something new from TopShop. The Union Street Starbucks, to be honest, has wormed its way into my heart and I do feel some attachment!

So the other week when I was sick as a chainsmoker on what was meant to be my last ever shift, I requested, for nostalgia, one final evening at the ‘Bucks.

Never once did it cross my mind that 50% of that three-hour shift would be spent cleaning up after all my beloved customers had gone home for the night. Nor was I aware of a new policy that cut the number of closing staff, leaving poor me, all alone, banging up my toes and legs (and even my head at one point) stacking chairs on tables and taking them down again, and single-handedly sweeping, mopping and squeegee-ing our massive café. Whew!

Not sure I can say it was worth £18 and a bag of coffee.

My last night was, at the very least, blessed with a celebrity customer. But alas, while everyone was whispering, pointing and posing for photographs, my Canadian ignorance shone through – I had no idea who said celebrity was. The more educated informed me that Jimmy Carr is a comedian of some fame, with a quiz show or two on Channel 4. oh.

I am happy to be done with my barista days, but I have to credit Starbucks for giving me a key to the city, of sorts: I can’t walk down Union Street without seeing at least one or two friends or acquaintances I’ve met at the café... Makes this Granite City feel like my own little village.

yesterday

two years on. it's true what they say. it just keeps getting better.


With five days remaining until his thesis submission, Dean and I celebrated low-key: roses, candles, champagne, funny poems and a pretty amazing lamb rogan josh (if I may say so myself). Marriage is a good thing.

the prettiest house in oxford

AKA Your Guest House in Oxford, Revisited

The previously mentioned interview at the prominent Englandshire business school turned out to be a bit of a bust (it's obvious they are looking for someone 40+ with an MBA - this is simply not me), but yesterday's trip to Londontown was still by all means a huge success!

The sun was shining and I was making nice with Paddington Bear when my delightful friend Jordan, in town with his very cool job, met me and we boarded a train to Oxford.

We had all of two hours in my future hometown, but it was enough to reassure me that I am a lucky girl to be moving to such a great city. The students were out in their formal exam attire (no sweat pants for these guys: see rule 5) and the outdoor pub seating was packed thanks to true summer weather.

So, like I said, I was there to see a house. And see a house I did. Frankly, it is what you dream of when you think of living in Oxford. And now, it's ours. We lost a small deposit on the Littlemore house, but I will never regret it. Please see below for evidence.


Last week I had been feeling some qualms about Littlemore and renting a house so far from town. For the last 2 years we've had the luxury of walking anywhere we need to. North Lodge, however, is in the heart of town, bordering the University parks... literally the former gatehouse of the park. Here's some history. It's even on Wikipedia. :)

Care to visit?

my eco footprint is getting bigger

I'm a small girl, but this business of living in Scotland is making for a BIG contribution to the world's carbon emissions.

Tomorrow morning I shall hop yet another plane down south, and come back north later that same day. I have a second interview for an editorial role (or I should say THE editorial role) at a prominent business school.

I confess, the London-Oxford commute has me in a bit of a quandary. We chose the Littlemore house based on the assumption that I would not be travelling by train every day. But life can be full of surprises.

Yesterday's surprise was that a seemingly spectacular cottage is now available through university staff housing. It's a dream on the outside, but of course, no interior photos are available.

So instead of visiting the Design Museum after the interview, I'm taking a very brief jaunt up to Oxford to see a man about a house. And I managed to convince a friend to come along for the ride! Stay tuned for photos!

celebs

your comments have made me aware that I completely forgot to report our stellar sighting in NYC last month.

It was quick and dirty:

Walking home from Mamma Mia, Julie and I noticed two photographers huddled in a doorway outside NBC Studios. No sooner had I looked over at a big black SUV parked opposite to see what was the fuss than it opened and out poured Mr. Krasinski, accompanied by Gossip Girl herself, Kristen Bell, and the slightly more obscure Dax Shepard of Punk'd fame.
We crossed the carpet at about the same moment John stepped onto it, and had to do the tourist double-take to spot the other two. We saw Dax again later in the week, wrapping up on the set of When in Rome, in Central Park.

strike two

I've moved from novels to back to back episodes of indulgent television. Yesterday it was the Office (which I feel a much stronger connection to since locking eyes with a bearded John Krasinski in NYC last month) and today it's Sex and the City.

In my defense, I showed up at work once again this morning. By 10am they had me packed up and on my way home again. I'd like to think it's because they care so much about my well being, but I know better - the newspapers covering their faces as they walked into my office were pretty obvious.

But you won't hear me complain.

cough cough cough

Feeling optimistic this morning, I ventured so far as to shower, dress and present myself at the office on time with an armoury of medication.

The powers that be took one look at/listen to me and sent me home again.

Two sick days, two novels about young successful New Yorkers. It's self torture really.

If you need me, find me curled up on the couch burried under a pile of kleenex.

your guest house in Oxford

Posts have been fewer this week due partly to an overbooked schedule, and partly to an ongoing illness. The combination of the two have me at home on a monday morning, with no voice, no hearing in one ear (lovely mix of congestion and air travel) and the runniest of noses.

harumf.

We spent the weekend in Oxford, on the mad hunt for a house. Now familiarised with the bus system and all the various boroughs of Ox, we feel ready for our big move.

But back to the house: It's still undergoing renos, which means we'll be the first lucky tennants to put our thumbprint on it. It's massive by Brit standards, with a luxuriously large kitchen (finally a full sized fridge-freezer), spacious rooms (with a real closet in the master bed), and a shower with suitable water pressure!

It's in a wee quaint village within Oxford, called Littlemore, a mere 2.5 miles from the city centre (bikes for sale anyone?) and steps from a bus stop.

Other goodies: big bright windows. a nice big office/guest room. new carpets and real wood floors. a massive back patio, primed for a BBQ and pots and pots of plants. Good thing I've got a housemate with a greenthumb coming from Swift Current :)

the only bad thing: Brits have this funny thing about "feature fireplaces". This is, in fact, merely a wall where there was once a fireplace, plastered and painted up - not even a nook in the wall remaining - with a mantle attached in front. I've seen them countless times in our house hunts and they remain a mystery to me. Hopefully nothing an electric screwdriver can't fix!

after dinner drinks

Yesterday I paid tribute to the best food in Manhattan. Now it's time for drinks!

5. Pinot Grigio at cute dinner spot 212 Restaurant and Bar. I've always been a fan of whites, but Pinot is my latest preference
4. Cosmos at Onieal's Speakeasy AKA Scout to S&TC fans. The pink drink lived up to the hype
3. Pike Place roast. Brewing at every Starbucks in North America, but nary a drop to be found in the UK
2. Passion Fruit cocktail, while doing our best impression of Gossip Girl at the Palace Hotel bar
1. G&T at Tao. One is the magic number if you're planning to stay sober on your night out (as I was). Two will push you over the edge (as I was).

good things: the food edition

I'm home, nursing a puffy lip and a pair of sutures. For all the criticism, the NHS is really pretty efficient.

But while I'm very much in Aberdeen at the moment, my stomach is in Manhattan (or longing for it, at least). One of the best parts of my stateside visits is that I rediscover that food can be enjoyable. Here are my top pics from NY:

5. Greasy pizza by the slice after an equally indulgent viewing of Mamma Mia
4. Black fusilli with scallops at Sette Mezzo (Oprah's favourite spot in Manhattan)
3. Homemade rhubarb pie, Fort Green greenmarket
2. Cream cheese and spinach egg whites at Lou Lou in Fort Greene
1. Brûléed grapefruit at the Pod restaurant

Now, about the grapefruit - On average one would expect to pay about 50 cents (or 48p if you're a poor sucker in Scotland like me) for a nice pink one. So why pay $5.50 for just half of one, three mornings in a row? Encrusted with a sugary brûléed shell, the grapefruit goes to a whole new level, and makes one feel like a healthy Amélie. Jules and I liked it so much we spent a morning hunting for a brûlée torch to make our very own.

The recipe is simple, if a little time consuming:

Cut a grapefruit in half and scoop the contents from both halves, removing all that annoying clear skin in between (is there a name for that stuff?) and returning the fleshy leftovers to one half shell. Alternately (but less attractively), just slice in half and split the sections with a paring knife. Next sprinkle some raw sugar over top and, in absense of your own brûlée torch, just stick it under a hot broiler for a minute or two and Voila! the breakfast of champions and champion shoppers alike.

jogging in amish country

6 miles:

5 friendly waves from Amish wifeys
3 one-room schools
1 ground hog
4 team-led ploughs
2 blue jays
1 covered bridge
8 identical black dresses out to dry
0 electrical lines

Pennsylvania is a good place to unwind.

ladies who lunch

New York has been everything it ought to be so far:

great shopping, brunch in Brooklyn (with some real live Brooklynites), a Broadway show, street hot dogs, pizza by the slice, and a brush with celebrity.

Our little pod Midtown has amazing showers, and a stellar breakfast menu. We're just about to put in an order for half a bagel and grapefruit brulee.

xoxo

bad timing

Leaving on a plane tomorrow for four days in New York, followed by a wedding in Pennsylvania.

Surely a set-up for photo gluttony... and today I woke up with an eye infection :(

good things: the paper edition

My list of good things has been building up for some time. Nearly time to open the floodgates... but first a trickle.

Calendone by Industries Stationery - hung on a bold wall, this perpetual wall calendar makes a striking (and eco-savvy) statement. (from Domino mag.)

Ecojot journals - on my last visit home, a trip to Chapters procured the journal I've been holding my breath for - paper heavy enough to endure my Uniball pens, and enough pages to survive five months of introspection! And while I'm currently trying to embrace all things British, I can't help but point out (with pride) that these are Canadian made. Creators, Mirage paper, have a pretty blog.

labpartners make these simple but lovely screen prints. I like think of them as cutsie-indie art (certainly one of my favourite genres!), perfect for for a kids room... or a modest Oxford flat. I check back regularly to see what new treasures they've created - and so should you!

This is a recent discovery, but it comes from an old favourite - Sharilyn Wright, of Lovely Design has started a blog, documenting her picturesque life on Burnaby mountain (less than a stone's throw from my alma mater). And while I may be perpetually disappointed when I check back to see if she has new address files, I AM rather inspired by the depiction of her daily life. Design junkies will eat up what she's done with her downtown studio.

rationalizing

Somehow I can eat half of bag of Haribo Tang-fastics before bed and still feel quite chuffed with myself when I skip the sugar on my morning oats. Oh the concessions we make!

It's a busy time.

We are hoping to move Dean down to Oxford on the first weekend of July, the day after a much anticipated wedding. I'll fly back up to put in a final week at the College (got to fund my summer visit home!) and spend some time with twin sis who will be in town visiting her lad :)

The last week has been a blur of car and flat and flight and job hunting while executing a pet project at work, planning and running a Bean Responsible workshop AND getting together all the bits for my trip to New York and Pennsylvania this Friday.

In the midst of it all I squeezed in a blissful night up north near Inverness and a few visits to the gym. whew. Looking forward to sleeping through my KLM flight on Friday.

analogue us

I have been neglecting my AE-1, so I shot some film on our time away.

My treasured Canon got hauled all over the place...

To the Museum of Natural History:

through the rain in Knightsbridge:

On an Oxford double decker:

To lunch at Pizza Express (where no one had pizza):

and even to Paddington station. It's a well-travelled camera.

All the other shots can be found here.

may day

I'm midway through a long weekend here in Scotland. If I had looked forward to a quiet weekend to catch up on writing and cleaning, I gravely missed the mark!

Spent yesterday morning in the company of women of every age learning about/practicing contemplative prayer - a really good exercise in light of my frenetic schedle these days.

From there I ran off to fill a shift at the Adult Learning tent at the Belmont Street farmers' market, and on the way I picked up this little gem (below) at a quirky new shop on George St called Johnny Come Lately (which coincidentally is also the name of a movie about a Baltimore serial killer - guess Oxford really was the best choice). I may have also acquired a number of new screen printed cards coming to mailbox near you in the not-so-distant future :)



We rounded out the evening with the pre-wedding celebration of a coworker who's moving to Australia. At the request of the bride-to-be all the women wore hats... well in our office those instructions can be very loosely interpreted:

the second installment

Photos from the London portion of our recent travels with inlaws have been posted here.

Oxford was all shot on film - partially with my new 28mm lense bought for a steal at the Oxfam I'll be frequenting in a few months :) Watch for those shots after the weekend.

drumroll please...

This August we Regiers are moving to the city of dreaming spires (that's Oxford)!

It was a tough call, and we pushed the decision to the last minute as I was quite enchanted with the modern comforts (and cheap realestate) of Baltimore. Professionally, however, it was very clear that Oxford was the right choice for Dean. Plus, I'd say having a hubby that's a senior research scientist at the world's most prestigious university makes for some pretty good bragging rights.

So that just leaves us to find a car, a flat, and to ship the rest of my wardrobe from my Auntie's basement in Surrey. I'm also on the job hunt. Tips from Londoners are invited!

the first installment

A selection of Baltimore photos have been posted here.

D-Day

This afternoon Dean will be making some calls that will determine the next couple years of our lives.

The decision is made, however, the news is a bit like announcing you're pregnant: there are a few people you need to tell before you go public.

Back tomorrow with photos from both Baltimore and Oxford, and the big news...

baltimore 2

In a couple hours we're heading for the airport, wrapping up our time in Baltimore and beginning Part 2 of our 'Determin the Future' journey.

It's been a full few days eating good food, checking out neighbourhoods we may want to live in this fall, appreciating a real summer and having a wonderful visit with Lorah and her amazing fiance.

It's been nice to walk for miles and still discover something new (in Aberdeen you can see the city in a day). We've seen one of the poorest parts of America (from the safety of a car) and some of the poshest parts of Maryland. It's a gorgeous state, but one with plenty of problems.

At this point nothing is clear. Falling asleep last night Dean expressed a sense anxiety that the decision isn't yet obvious. Hopefully these next couple days in Oxford will make it all apparent.

baltimore

32 degrees. Inner Harbour Hilton. Cracakes and rare tuna in a gorgeous sea side neighbourhood.

I'm sold.

current countdown

As it stands on this sunny Monday evening:
- 4 days until we depart for Charm City
- 6 days until I get to see my best friend and meet the love of her life

Things I'm excited about in Baltimore:
- 21 degree weather
- bottomless pop (it's not so much that I drink pop, it's that I like knowing I'm getting plenty for my money)
- a king size bed at the Hilton
- sushi (anyone know a good spot
- restocking on Bumble&Bumble
- exploring, exploring and more exploring
- the exchange rate
- and of course long sits in coffee shops catching up with the bride-to-be :)
I'm also trying to convince Dean that, while in Baltimore, it would only be right to see Hairspray on stage. He's not quite there yet.

In other news, a might big wrench made its way into our future deliberations today. Not a bad wrench mind you, but a wrench all the same. Glasgow secured some hard funding for Dean. Which brings us back to square one - trying to choose between three great universities in three great cities.

best Google application ever!

I can't believe I didn't know about this. Dean is laughing at my ignorance, but bear with me all the same:

Never mind the fact that they practically own the internet; Google has done so much for us. Thanks to a Battlestar Gallactica fan in France who stumbled upon my site, I've just discovered their latest wonder tool: translate.google.com

See The Front Lawn in French and then read Paris fashion blogs in English.