Tom's Diner

When Dean's parents came to visit us a couple months ago they brought with them a giant case of CDs that we'd been stashing at their house for the last few years. Since this week was one of long drives (twice to Heathrow and once to Ikea) I've been reliving my history by circulating through dozens of mix tapes acquired in the last decade.

Today I popped in one tellingly titled Manda's May Pick-me-up, circa 2004* which, along with undergrad faves like the Thrills and Dido, had the unexpected addition of Suzanne Vega's hypnotic memory-triggering beats. Oh, Tom's Diner, you drop me right back into a bus on a seventh grade field trip when we annoyed our teachers all the way to some community theatre or old folks' home endlessly singing "da da daa-da, da da-daa da" and stumbling over your not-at-all rhyming words.

I never really got that song as an 11-year-old and I suppose I thought it had some deeper meaning that was just over my head, sure to be discovered at a later date. But 18 years later it's still just a meaningless vignette that brings me great satisfaction to sing along with. I still know every word.


(*courtesy of Jules in honour of, probably, some prolonged/awkward breakup)

twins in windsor

My gusty/adventurous twin sis is moving to the Middle East for six month to teach English. Lucky for me she had an eight-hour layover between flights, so I took myself to good old 'heafrow' to meet her. and then I took the both of us just down the road to Windsor for an overdue catchup. Later (she will hate me for this) I made her model her new wardrobe :) It's a good look Di!

a fine fellow

Dean's PhD grad pics arrived in the mail last week. Funny/cute, right?

The photos were a good reminder that I've neglected to share some big recent news with all but a very few of you. Earlier this summer Dean was named a Fulford Research Fellow at Somerville College.

There's a lot about Oxford, we find, that requires explanation to outsiders (there's a lot that I still don't get), but one of those things is that the University is made up of 38 colleges - each one houses a few hundred students where they eat and sleep and take some of their tutorials with professors who are associated with that College. Some lectures or tutorials might take place at other colleges depending on what you are studying and what profs are most fit to teach the subject.

All that said, you can be a faculty member at Oxford without being connected to a college. For the last year Dean has worked at the NPEU - a department of the university - as a senior researcher. To have any hope of working your way up to professor status, however, you need a college association, so securing a fellowship (though most are unpaid) is a pretty big deal. They mean access to lecturing opportunities (which ARE paid), they look great on your CV, AND they mean you can have free lunch at the College whenever you feel so inclined. I, for one, am looking forward to the invites to fancy college bops! :)

Congrats Dean!

Orla a/w

it's always a happy day when a new Orla Kiely collection comes out. take a peek here and tell me if I'm crazy to think I could totally make the adorable frock in the centre of page 6. The dress at right is also particularly lovely.

Alas, we're currently trying to live off one income in case my freelance contracts slow down... in the meantime I'll satisfy myself with a selection of £5 sale rack skirts from 'Primarni' (cringe away, Verity! ;) Photos coming soon!

a spot of croquet

Two wonderful things happened last weekend:

First some lovely friends came to visit, and then the sun came out.

Erin and Jonny spent a couple days in Oxford/Stanton St John during a 2 week tour of England. They are incredibly fun and doubled the Canadian contingent at our chapel warming party on Saturday (which was a smashing success and I was having too much good chat to bother with photos)

On Sunday, after a dose of tourism and high tea in the city we came back to STJ for a highly competitive match of croquet on the Chapel lawn.

In Oxford this is a sport they take seriously (see above, the boys doing their best to look club-worthy). It's a little known fact that croquet is the worls'd oldest varsity sport - the first match took place between Cambridge and Oxford in 1231. One rumor purports that the sport was so popular with Oxford Dons back in the day that one college, Balliol, was even named for the sport (ball in 'ol)... umm, but I think the Balliol family might take issue with that claim. University Parks, near our former home, has a pitch specifically devoted to croquet and on any given day you might see the club out in their whites and hear them cursing over a missed wicket.

We were four novices at this ancient game so there was more guessing at rules than passing through wickets. Erin, however, forgot to tell us that 'lawnsports' is her middle name and left us all behind in a trail of grass clippings. See photo below of her looking smug during a post-match pint. I, for one, am looking forward to a rematch!

spoilt birthday girl

I rarely make a huge deal of my birthday - they were always fairly low-key affairs in the Smith household. Last year I didn't botheer telling any of my new friends that I was turning 28, and this year I strategically combined birthday celebrations with a housewarming party to take off the pressure (it was this past Saturday - and a supreme success in my books!)

So this year I've been taken aback by a slew of unexpected and super thoughtful gifts. It's been an amazing reminder that, even though I feel far from home, I have some pretty awesome friends, here and around the world.

First the Eames chair arrived, and then Orla Kiely loveliness, followed by delicious produce from a friend's veggie garden, two books from the top of my to-read list, incredibly thoughtful cards, and today, a card from two of my most favourite people with this photo taped inside and a note that one of these is on special order for me. WOW! I'm a lucky kid to have friends who not only don't mock my Bachelorette fixation, but also guessed how much I LOOOOVED this hoodie. Thanks Jules and Neen!