cassette from my ex

I don't know about you, but there is a box in my parents' basement filled with small black and grey tokens of sentiment - treasures that I cannot throw away. They may never grace another ghetto blaster, but they are an analog archive of my romantic history.

Mix tapes, yes actual tapes. There is still nothing better - that dull click between songs to help you anticipate what comes next; static to usher in Side B; and the knowledge that someone spent actual TIME on this, for YOU - and only made ONE copy.

So I am inclined to think that this book is fairly awesome and would be equally fun to read as it would be to curate. One day I would love to sit down with many of you and get your mix tape stories. stay tuned.

Canadians are nice

Further confirmation of what we all already know: Canadians are a kind and polite people group.

I have heard enough consular nightmares from friends here in London to dread the approaching day when my passport would expire. With only a little more than a month remaining before I am due home (December 11th, mark your calendars), and only two weeks remaining of passport validity, this week I braced myself and blocked out an entire day to spend at Canada House.

My passport application process up to now had not gone smoothly. The photos I had initially taken were not to Canadian passport standards (for a quick fix to this problem I highly recommend a visit to to Passport Photo Service on Oxford St, who had my regulation size mugshots ready in 2 minutes); I couldn't find a single doctor, lawyer or notary who had known me for more than two years and all of my UK ID is under a different name than my Canadian ID. You can see why I might have thought the actual submission process would be a sordid affair.

In fact, with much credit to the Canadian High Commission, it was a really pleasant process. I even got a hug.

some nice things i learned about Canadians:
+ Canadians take a number when they are asked to
+ In spite of what number is called, Canadians are polite enough to let the fretting retiree with a lost passport go first
+ Canadians smile at you when you join them in a room
+ Canadians will offer to help you track down your nephew's phone number in Regina, using their Blackberry (me! this was me!)
+ Canadians will give you a giant grandma-hug for helping in the smallest way.

I was in and out of Canada House in 30 minutes with a patriotic smile on my face.

Hogwarts High

What if Harry Potter had been written and adapted 20 years earlier? (click to enlarge)

[via FlavourWire]

the new A-Team

is anyone else stupidly excited about this?

rambling

happy Monday!

we've got a full weekend behind us including brunch with two old friends and one new one, a ramble through STJ's footpaths, dinner at a quintessentially Italian spot and drinks at a quintessentially Oxford spot, church, the world's best tomato soup, another ramble - this one through Blenheim's park grounds and finally a quiet night of reading by the fire.

I love full weekends. By Monday I feel like I can accomplish ANYTHING. Though so far this one has just involved email catchup, picture posting and an entire pot of earl grey :)

the ten commandments of rocking

#3 Thou shalt put real thought into choosing a name. There hath been enough bands named after wolves and bears and whales and goats and every other beast that creepeth upon the earth.

Read the rest here.

Oxford books

So many of the best British authors I've read this year hail from Oxbridge (and notably a lot of wonderful people I've met this year do too!) but I find there's something a bit magical in reading books that are actually set in the city where I live. In Aberdeen the choices were few, but here in Oxford all kinds of literary greats set their scenes.


Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K Jerome. This book isn't set in Oxford per se, but it is about three hypochondriacs in London who decide to take a wee boat trip up the Thames to this fine city where they spend two days in the final chapter of the book. It was originally meant to be a travel guide, relating all the history along the way, but evolved into a funny narrative with some good historical tidbits too.

Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy. One of my favourite books of all time, but not suggested for those who want a quick uplifting read! Scandalous for the time it was written and really tragic, but beautiful all the same. It is set in a fictionalised Oxford called Christminster where Jude is a stonemason with scholarly aspirations who meets some holdups along the way. I liked the playful way Hardy refers to actual places in Oxford - renaming the neighbourhood of Jericho 'Beersheba' and making up college names like 'Biblioll College'.

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh. I picked up a vintage Penguin edition of this in Wales this summer. Okay, so I haven't read it yet, but I DID read A Handful of Dust by Evelyn Waugh plus i saw (most of) this film, and indeed it was muchly filmed in Oxford. The book itself features Hertford and Christchurch colleges and Waugh is undoubtedly a skilled author. What more could you want?

Inspector Morse by Colin Dexter. In fact there are 13 Inspector Morse novels, written over 22 years, each entirely set in Oxford. Sure it's not highbrow, but the books do have a loyal following, further abetted by the TV series based on the books. Who'd think a peaceful city like Oxford would be home to so many brutal deaths (Note: Morse eventually passed on and the show was turned over to his assistant, INspector Lewis. The joke here in Stanton St John is that the village sees a few murders each year, but a film crew always cleans up the evidence). I have a used copy of The Wench is Dead which I really must read before we leave England for good!

Finally, honorable mention goes to Penelope Lively's book The House in Norham Gardens , actually a children's novel, which is set on our former street in Central Oxford.

jimmy choo for H&M

no kidding. These should be fun.

bookclubbing: how to

This week has been a bit reminiscent of my uni days as I've been madly trying to make my way through a 750-page novel in time for my London book club on Wednesday. The book arrived last Wednesday which means I'm ploughing through a dense 100 pages per day. Thank goodness my Oxford book club is reading a manageable novella this month!

Em, yep, you read right, I'm keeping up with two book clubs at the moment - one, a random assortment of expat women who have come to Oxford for their own or their husbands' studies/work; the other, a more intentionally selected group of London Business School book nerds.

I've come to embrace my participation in such a supremely nerdy to-do because frankly, as a newcomer in a city, I've found there is no better way to connect with likeminded women - and I am a pro at being a newcomer! To put things in context, in three years of marriage we have lived in three cities and I have moved house a total of six (SIX!) times.

My bookclubbing odyssey began at my Aberdeen Starbucks. An American customer learned that I was from Vancouver, where she once lived, and that we had mutual acquaintances there. We were reading the same book so she invited me to join her and some other ladies to talk about it. Their ages spanned four decades, but they were all fascinating women with insight and stories to tell. Bookclub was the highlight of my month. I liked those ladies so much, I joined them on a weekend retreat at a Scottish abbey. (photographic evidence below!)

[image courtesy of Becky Holloway]

In Oxford it came about much the same way - a church acquaintance tipped me off about a group of expat women who read and I turned up, book in hand, to meet a room full of really wonderful strangers! In London, bookclub is a good way to ensure I get into town at least once a month to catch up with those lovely ladies.

Since I've started telling friends back home about my bookclubbing I've been peppered with questions about how to do it. While I don't think there's a formula, here are some suggestions

Where to meet:

In Oxford we meet in homes around town. Those of us with enough space take turns hosting and usually that person puts on a little spread of goodies and maybe some wine to loosen tongues.

In London we meet in a pub - one that we know will have a table large enough for us all and that will be quiet enough for the first hour at least. We each pitch in a fiver, which supplies about two bottles of wine and a few bags of crisps.

What to read:

As a rule, all three of my bookclubs have been fiction only.

In Oxford we read only British authors, ideally those who were Oxford-based at some point (Lewis, Evelyn Waugh, Iris Murdoch etc)

In London our very international group is reading books from each of the countries represented - Canada, N.Ireland, Sweden, Australia and England!

Best to pick something meaty, but not too long. Up to 300 pages is manageable for even the working moms. Choose something too light and you'll be short of topics to discuss (While we all loved Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day it didn't sustain conversation too long!)

How to discuss:

We take a pretty organic approach in Oxford. Whomever picked the book will give opening impressions and explain why she picked the book, then we open up the floor from there.

Things in London are a bit more regimented. She who picks the book leads the discussion and has questions prepared, and everyone else has one discussion question ready just in case - it makes for really in depth conversation, but boy is it hard to not get sidetracked!!!

Who to join

In Oxford we agree to a date at the end of each meeting and stick to it. Everyone seems to finish to book in time, whether we like it or not.

In London the dates slide to accommodate work or social calendars and because we all know one another, we seem to be less diligent in finishing the book on time!

While the idea of discussing great books with friends is incredibly appealing, experience shows that you're more accountable to a group of strangers/new friends than a group of your besties. Too often you may opt for a good ol' catch up over a serious literary discussion.

Next time: a list of my favourite Oxford-themed literature :)

50,000

This morning the front lawn reached a nice rounded 50,000 hits! oh, i know this number is small by some comparisons, but I was chuffed nevertheless. With the ease of FB and Twitter updates, I sometimes wonder if I am the only one who reads blogs anymore (and likewise, sometimes wonder if my mother is the only one who reads mine!) but little milestones like this warm the cockles of my heart and make me want to write more often then I currently do. Thanks to those of you who keep coming back!

anyway, you're all thinking, "yah Amanda, why don't you write more? You live you in an awesome cottage in the Cotswalds and get to go to London quite regularly" (I know you're thinking this because many of you said it when I was home last month). But the fact is, life in England is pretty quiet. I work at home where excitement is watching the leaves change colour, successfully lighting our woodstove, or starting a new book, and in London my adventures are usually confined to a Baker Street pub and Business School gossip.

Actually, this week I resolved to take myself on a wee adventure or two, and that I did: on Wednesday, this constituted a visit to a favourite London spot, the V&A, and then yesterday we took Anni on a tour of Brick Lane and some late night shopping at Oxford Circus. Maybe it's time I determined to make my English life as exciting as you all assume it is...

happy thanksgiving!

okay, so I'm four days late, but it's no less exciting to have the smell of pumpkin cake wafting through the house. We're celebrating tomorrow with our dear northern friend Anni and her Canadian friend Marko, who are coming to spend the weekend at our chapel! My favourite pumpkin sheet cake is just out of the oven and a wee turkey is thawing in the fridge. This is such a yummy time of year!

While I wait for it to cool, I'm wrapping up a press bio for my super talented friend Zaac Pick (whose beautiful song 'Drifters' was features on One Tree Hill the other week) - it's one of those rare fun projects with plenty of freedom for finesse.

I gave myself a bit of a holiday yesterday, spending the afternoon in London, at the V&A, followed by a much overdue pub night with a gaggle of lovely ladies from the Business School so today is all about buckling down, AND getting the house in tip top shape. Speaking of which, while I posted photos of our house on Facebook, i'm not sure they ever made their way here to the frontlawn. House tour and a photo tour of our little village is forthcoming, right after the 'holiday' weekend :)

walk the line

First Aid Kit, covering Johnny Cash, in Paris...

back to school

I'm taking a class. Nothing serious. The sort of thing you might expect a widowed retiree or a bored mom (mum?) to do - except it's at Oxford which, I suppose, gives it a bit of credibility.

Today was my first day of school and I may have been the only 20-something in the class. The retirees and me. We're learning to write fiction! A writer I may be, but making up stories from scratch is not my forte. I'll let you know if I show any promise in the end.

Our 78-year-old instructor had me a bit nervous with her dual hearing aids and slow stutter, but it was obvious she had a spark... a spry certain something. A quick bit of research reveals that she has earned her stripes - grew up mostly in Rhodesia and came back to Oxford where she met her Indian husband while waiting tables. She spent nearly two decades in India running a dairy farm until they returned to England with all of £10 to their names. Most notably, I also learned, she and her husband practice yogic flying every day. Now there's a woman with some stories to tell!

back from home

I'm home! or rather, I'm back! When you live far from home it's hard to know what to call each place. My recent emails to family must surely be confusing as I use the word to describe the place I've just come from and the place I've just arrived. The very nature of the word seems to imply that home can only be one place, and that does resonate with me.

So what's what? Can home actually be just the place where you pay rent and store your things and have the contents of the pantry memorized, or is it always going to be the place where you became you alongside the people who helped make you that way, regardless of whether or not you still have a bedroom there? Dean likes to remind me that home is where your heart is, so I guess my home covers a thin line connecting Oxford to Vancouver/Island via Swift Current.

My heart must be pretty stretchy.

Since I returned to the UK, I've been submerged in a cloud of jet lag, but have also managed to get out and about to welcome my friend Jeremy to his new life in Oxford and to chat Orwell with my fantastic bookclub girls. I also started a new gig at St Aldates where I'll be offering up my communication skills once a week from here on out!

And what did I get up to in Vancouver? Well, plenty. Here are some photos from the few times I actually remembered to pull out the camera!

Nathan's world-class Asian-fusion in Victoria

Three-year-old Rowyn's Tai Kwon Do bow in Parksville

Two of my favourite city girls braving the Van Island outback for a day

Kelly, myself and Nina celebrating Julie's 29th birthday!

A couple of Scots in Vancouver after a record-breaking downpour

Me and cutie Josh in Coquitlam

A HUGE thank-you to the many people who hosted me, treated me to coffees, lunches, dinners and belly laughs. I love you kids.