so far in '08

If you haven't visited flickr lately, now's a good time to catch up on:

+ our most recent trip to Glasgow.

+ our night out with Rees and his buddies from Athlete.

+ sunny, rainy and foggy scenes from Aberdeen.

these boots were made for sloshing

Latest charity shop find: a pair of mint-condition, size 36 wellington boots. 95 pence.


And while I'm finally prepared for the rain, the sun persists in Aberdeen. Yesterday I took some time out to listen to the morning bells in St. Nicolas kirkyard.

daredevils

Sometimes I get emails from my parents and wonder, who ARE these people?! The older they get the crazier they become:

It all started when they packed up their comfortable suburban life and moved to Vancouver Island. THen suddenly they are the type of people who jump out of airplanes, and zip-line through tropical jungles.

Just today my mom sent this photo of them parasailing in Mexico last week. Guess it's true what they say: the closer you are to death, the less you fear it ;)
(love you guys!)

spring in my step

Lately the signs of spring have been poking their noses out from between this city's infamous granite tenements. The sun now gets up with me and later I walk home in dusk rather that night. The green tips of daffodils are pushing out of Aberdeen hillsides. The seagulls wake us up at weekends like they did eight months ago.

But spring in the UK is still as elusive as a North American groundhog (even if no one here knows what a groundhog is, let alone the lore surrounding it). One minute the sun is out, the next a fog thunders in. A 10-degree day usually finishes as a 0-degree evening. However, in both extremes, Aberdeen has been sort of pretty lately.

good with names

In my last edition of Good Things I refered you all to the stunning work of Julia Rothman.

Coincidentally her name popped up again today, during my Saturday morning dose of house porn (thank Jawcey - brilliant term!), in connection with the most fabulous wallpaper. I had already saved a photo of it to my inspiration file when I noticed the connection.

How fabulous is this kitchen wall featured at Apartment Therapy?

assimilation incomplete

The month of March will mark one (cumulative) year that I've lived in Aberdeen. So I'm inclined to think that all the necessary cultural adjustments have been made.

I know my way around: Not only do I know that Tesco, ASDA, Morrisons, Sainsbury's and Somerfield are all grocery stores, I can also stroll through their aisles and recognize product brands! I cook with turnips and make rocket salad. I snack on oat cakes and jaffa cakes (and know they are vastly different). And darnit, I know what a chip butty is!

But sometimes I forget that we Canadians, while discovering Brits have quirky eating habits, also bring some of our own eccentricities to the table (pun intended).

On Sunday afternoon I made a batch of (very British, I thought) potato & leek soup. You'd be hard pressed to find a box of Premium Plus on the shelves of the above mentioned supermarkets (or any sort of soda cracker for that matter), so Dean and I use various crackers as replacements. The soup wasn't too bad, frankly, and the crackers gave it some necessary bite.

A few hours later our friend Alastair came over (Alastair of stole-my-sister's-heart fame). I offered him some leftover soup, heated it up and served it with our latest cracker of choice.

Midway through his supper, Ally nearly dropped his spoon with shock. Gaping at me he asked, "Are you pregnant?"

I was cracking into my own after dinner snack: granny smith apple slices smothered in peanut butter. A perfectly normal treat in North America, but apparently a shocking pairing in Great Britain!

He overcame his astonishment and tried it, and liked it! All was well.

This morning I received a call from my twin sis, who had spoken with her lad the night before, during which conversation he not only recounted the apple incident, but also the soup incident. What soup incident you ask? Apparently crackers and soup is yet another ridiculous combination in the UK. Turns out, before I whipped out the apples and Skippy, Ally already thought I was a cullinary freak.

This from a nation that deep-fries pizza, eats Marmite for breakfast (or Marmite at all, really), doesn't refrigerate eggs at the supermarket, and serves cold pancakes as a dessert! sheesh!