Friday, January 15, 2016

New Year in Cambridge

As I sit down to write about how I spent the first few days of 2016, I am shocked that we are already halfway through January. I find I have been experiencing time at a tremendously accelerated rate because it feels as though I was only just in Cambridge enjoying the countdown to midnight on New Year's Eve.

Jeremy and I left the North and headed down to Cambridge a few days before the new year. We had already spent a week together over Christmas and we decided to further test our ability to get along over a longer period of time. We spent the first day walking around the city and braving the rainy, cold weather before heading home for a much needed cup of tea. Jeremy is lucky to live with some very awesome housemates, Bobbie and Lyra. Bobbie is rather mischievous it must be said. She has been known to commit regular homicide and Lyra has an addiction to the television. I should probably explain that Bobbie and Lyra aren't entirely human. Bobbie is a cat and Lyra is a golden retriever. Spending the week with them was really a lot of fun. I was missing the companionship of the furry variety and both Bobbie and Lyra were very willing to fill the gap.

A view from the top deck of the bus heading into Cambridge.

We stopped off at Benets and had truly delicious milkshakes. 

Bobbie tackling a particularly difficult itch...either that or she's doing a pirate impression.


We spent New Year's Eve day walking to the large Tesco and carrying provisions for a merry evening back the twenty minute walk. I had originally wanted to go out and welcome 2016 with a large dinner and several glasses of wine and champagne. As the day wore on, however, we both realised that staying in, baking cookies, watching Star Wars: A New Hope and then turning on the telly at ten seconds to midnight was far more our speed. To be fair, I had procured a bottle of Prosecco while at the shops earlier and so as the crowds around the London Eye counted down to the brand new year, we toasted, drank, and then promptly went to bed.

Jeremy's brother and sister got me these awesome dinosaur cookie cutters and we just had to try them. (Also I bought myself a hipster camera that takes polaroids.)



Um...so they didn't exactly turn out all that well.


One of my Christmas presents was a pair of tickets to see Sherlock at the cinema on Christmas Day. We headed into the city for a lovely dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant called Olive Grove before the film. I cannot describe the moment we walked into the theatre and discovered that every single seat was a recliner. I instantly became five years old and kept raising and lowering the seat. I was so shocked and delighted by the whole thing. Finally, the lights dimmed and I set my chair in a deep recline and settled in to watch the exploits of Holmes and Watson play out over the screen. I think I was most touched by the gentle nods to previous incarnations of the great detective. Here the musical motif from the Jeremy Brett era, here lines taken directly from Conan Doyle's texts, there a cinematic re-imagining of a scene from Young Sherlock Holmes. I suppose it makes me feel clever when I notice those things, but it's also just a lovely reminder of the tremendous body of work dedicated to Sherlock Holmes, one of my favourite fictional characters.

Living in the lap of luxury.

The week passed on. Jeremy had to work on Saturday and Sunday and so I took the time to catch up on my own work which I had put somewhat on hold for the holidays. Emails were sent, papers were read, and arrangements moved forward for my fieldwork. Sunday evening, I took the bus into the city. Emily and Sara from my time in Durham were both around Cambridge and we had arranged to have dinner and catch up. Jeremy met us at the restaurant and we spent such a lovely few hours together. Sitting together chatting about Durham, Robin, our lectures, the pub quizzes, and hearing about what everyone was up to now just felt so good. It felt easy. It was like we hadn't ever been out of touch, as though we were back to two years ago, just out for a meal before heading back to Ustinov.

The day before I was to leave, Jeremy and I decided to take the train to Ely. It's only twenty minutes from Cambridge and I had never been there and Jeremy hadn't been in ages. We took a 12:30 train and stopped to get lunch before taking a tour of the cathedral. We decided to splurge and pay for the tower tour in addition to the normal entry fee. It was very much worth it for the views and the amusing guide. The sun was just beginning to set when we reached the top of the tower and the light was turning soft and purple. By the time we had climbed back down and wandered through the rest of the cathedral, it was dark outside.

We walked along the canal to get into the center of town. There were some great views of the cathedral.

We also met a flock of some very...interesting looking ducks.

Ely Cathedral



The inside of the cathedral tower with wooden beams some dating back to the 1300s.

The Victorian stained glass windows in the tower.

The original ceiling. The paint has been restored but the design is as it always was.

Angels in a band.

We were a bit high up...

The sunset from the top of the tower.

I do enjoy grotesques.

This bishop looks to have been a bit of a lounge lizard during his life.

Probably the most beautiful Christmas tree I've ever seen.


As we walked back to the station, holding hands, it occurred to me how happy I was. How happy I had been over the past two weeks. I hadn't really felt any anxiety (which I tend to feel most days in Leicester), I hadn't been really upset, depressed nor short-tempered. I had just felt comfortable and content. And save for a dangerous moment of hanger back in York, Jeremy and I hadn't gotten on each others' nerves. In fact, there had been a tonne of laughter over the past two weeks.

I was sad thinking about getting on a plane the next morning. As I thought about the journey, pangs of anxiety began to resonate through me. I didn't want to leave the comfortable, warm place I was in mentally and emotionally. At the same time, the thought of going home, of seeing my friends and family (and ferrets!) was pulling at another set of heartstrings. That pull of place that ex-pats know only too well; the feeling of needing to be in two places at once in order to feel complete. Though I was sad to wake up from the beautiful dream I was in, I knew I'd be waking up to find myself in yet another wonderful dream before eventually having to wake up to the cold harsh reality of Leicester and my PhD.

Saturday, January 2, 2016

A Northern Christmas

Christmastime as a child was always the most exciting time of the year. It's a worn-out cliche but that doesn't negate the fact that to a child, Christmas feels magical; the dance of anticipation at what wonders will come on the morning of the 25th, the smells of cookies baking in the oven, the films that only come out of storage after Thanksgiving, logs burning in the fireplace, and the promise of a delicious Christmas lunch. My memories of all the Christmases I spent as a child blur together into one overall nostalgic representation of the season. As I've gotten older, that excitement has given way to more stress i recent years. As a music teacher I was responsible for putting together performances, as a performer myself I had to learn and perfect my own music. Suddenly, presents didn't magically appear under the tree, but rather I had to brave the crowds and commercialised feeding frenzy of the local shopping centres. Our small family grew exponentially during my late teens and early twenties when my brothers began having families of their own. Suddenly, our small house felt cramped and sitting down at the table for Christmas lunch turned into lunch on trays in the living room, dining room, and wherever you could find space. Christmas viewed from behind-the-scenes as we adults must view it, is an entirely different thing from the Christmases of childhood.

It must be said that in recent years, my anxiety over the holiday has tended to grow rather than abate. Trying to coordinate schedules, thinking of gifts to buy everyone, decorating, it all has felt more empty. Almost a requirement rather than something organic and exciting. It was like going on autopilot and the real essence and substance behind my actions was completely lost. In short, being an adult at Christmas kinda sucks sometimes. On occasion I would find a gift I knew would be really appreciated or that was absolutely perfect for someone and I would feel that little Christmasy feeling again. My friend Laurie and I began a tradition of getting together for Christmas Eve brunch which also reignited some of that lost sparkle and has come to be an extremely important part of my holiday. It wasn't until this year though that I began to feel some of that old anticipation that I had been missing. 

I made the decision to stay in England for the holidays this year. When I had been at Durham I had thought about doing the same but had ended up missing home too much and buying a plane ticket. I've never been away for the holidays before. This was the first year and it was a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. 

Jeremy invited me to spend Christmas with his family up North. I was excited at the thought of experiencing how his family celebrates the holidays. There's something about the unfamiliar that tends to recharge my batteries. I think there is also something about the unknown that is an essential part of the lead-up to Christmas which I had been missing. I began to feel like a kid counting down the days until my train would take me back up North. 

Despite the excitement, I also was feeling extremely homesick and lost. While my Christmas traditions had become almost second nature and had contributed a bit to my Christmas blues, I was now cut off from them almost entirely and worse, I was away from my family and friends. I would alternate between bouts of excitement and bouts of severe loneliness and depression as I waited for the 23rd to roll around. 

Finally, the day came and I tossed my suitcases into a cab and headed off to the station. Leicester looked strangely beautiful as I rode down London Road. I wondered if it was because it was a beautiful, clear day or if it was because I would be away from it for a good long while. I got on my train, the first of three that would carry me North. The North of England will always be my UK home and I always feel just a little bit happier and calmer when I'm there. Three hours later, I stepped off my last train, dragging my bags behind me. I was happy to see Jeremy waiting on the platform. His mum helped us put my bags in the boot of the car and off we zipped back to what would be home for the next week.

Before I had left Leicester, I had gotten a parcel from my parents. They had sent me some ornaments from back home. I hung them on Jeremy's family's Christmas tree. Here is Smaug looking very Christmasy I must say.




After I settled in and had my obligatory cup of Earl Grey, Jeremy's parents took me on a driving tour of the local area. The English countryside rolled past my windows and despite a bit of car sickness, I thoroughly enjoyed the drive through little villages where Jeremy's dad had been the vicar and past fields full of sheep and one or two horses. I was finally on a much needed holiday.

Jeremy and I spent Christmas Eve in town where I needed to pick up a few last minute gifts. We had a very lovely lunch and paused to take some photos of the church where we would be going to midnight mass that evening. 

The town centre on Christmas Eve. It doesn't look as bustling as it was.

All Saints where we went to midnight mass.



We decided to walk home and went past a beautiful row of houses each with a tree in its bay window. After we got back and had more cups of tea and wrapped the presents, Jeremy turned to me.

"Jen, did we pay the bill at lunch?" he asked.

I screwed up my face and tried to think. Then a rush of horror mixed with embarrassment hit me. 

"Oh shit," I said. 

We began laughing and after realising that the cafe was closed and would be for the next three days, we decided there was nothing to do about it until then. 


I had met Jeremy's parents and his sister before, but I hadn't met his brother until Christmas Eve. I was sort of surprised how much at home I felt with them all. Sitting around the table at dinner was easy and I found that I was more relaxed than I had been in weeks. That night I went with them to midnight mass, one of their family traditions. I had fun singing descants to some of the carols and despite being a non-believer, I managed to find a bit of a humanist message in the sermon. I went to sleep that night (or rather morning) feeling quite content. 

The next morning Jeremy's dad was doing a service. His mum and sister managed to wake up in time to attend. Jeremy, his brother, and I opened our stockings which Santa had left us and settled in to some Christmas morning telly with Danger Mouse. 

The whole day was lovely. We had a light lunch once everyone returned from church and we watched the Queen's message on the telly. Then the present opening began. Jeremy played postman and handed gifts to everyone one at a time. There were funny gifts and delicious gifts and geeky gifts and thoughtful gifts. That evening we pulled crackers and donned our Christmas hats and ate a very delicious meal. I had a taste of Christmas pudding and then promptly opted for the chocolate pudding option. It had been a really lovely day.

The Queen's message...it's hard to see her, but I promise she's there.

The rest of the week we spent eating leftovers and popping the rest of the crackers. We had a wonderful pub lunch on Sunday and on Monday, despite truly terrible flooding, Jeremy and I went into York to finally see Star Wars: The Force Awakens. We had to change cinemas as the first one we had planned to go to had flooded. The theatre we ended up at was a bit old and a bit rough around the edges. I smiled when I thought that it had surely been there when Star Wars had first premiered in 1977. Here we were, decades later, feeling just as excited as those other moviegoers must have been. I decided then and there that if I ever had use of a TARDIS that I would most certainly go back to 1977 to experience Star Wars in theatres. 

On the train to York.

The flooding was really terrible.
Like really terrible. This was where I had my first London Fog. 

STAR WARS!!!!

The film was everything I wanted it to be. It has been a very long time since I so thoroughly enjoyed a science fiction film. I felt like I got a piece of my childhood back and I couldn't help tearing up when the words "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away" came onto the screen and that first big, beautiful, chord struck and those words "Star Wars" appeared, receding quickly into the distance. To put it simply, I had all the feels.

We had lunch at the Cocoa House in the city centre. We were panicked when none of the shops nor restaurants were able to take credit cards and the ATMs were all down. The only place you could get money was the Marks and Spencer's. Word had gotten out and it was jammed with people buying 50p packets of crisps and asking for £50 cash back. The Cocoa House was delicious. Every dish on the menu, even the savoury ones had cocoa in them.


  • Grilled Goat's Cheese & Red Onion Open Sandwich - Rosemary, Red Onion & Dark Chocolate sauce with Goat's Cheese grilled on Haxby Cobb....noms
York Cocoa House Rarebit - Our delicious home made rarebit contains Rudgate's York Chocolate Stout and topped with Cocoa Nibs...with bacon.
The next day, we hurried off to the cafe we had eaten at on Christmas Eve to make amends for walking out without paying. The girl at the till laughed when we told her our story and after many apologies, we left with our wallets lighter, but our consciences clear. We went off to the station and boarded a train bound for Cambridge. I was sad to be leaving. I had felt so at home and so much more relaxed than I had done in weeks. The stresses of my PhD seemed to have melted away. Leicester was far away and I still wouldn't have to go back for another few weeks. The loneliness and depression were gone and though I still missed my family and friends from home very, very much, the thought that I would see them again very soon made me smile.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

It's beginning to look a lot like...well you know

Winter greetings from the Midlands!

The weeks leading up to Christmas have been filled with funding  applications, ethics approval forms, emails, reading, and meetings. Somewhere in between all of these things, I've managed to eek out a bit of holiday spirit. Please enjoy.

Jeremy and I spent a lovely day in Nottingham. We walked around the Christmas Market in the centre of town several times.

We ended up treating ourselves to some hot chocolate and snow cakes. (Snow cakes are really just chocolate covered marshmallows. They had lots of different flavours like Toblerone, tiramisu, and cinnamon.)

The market at night was very pretty.

There was even an ice skating rink. Though Jeremy boasted of his skating chops, I didn't put him to the test; mainly because I am an appalling skater.

We did however, take this very nice selfie.

Queens Road in Leicester all lit up at night. 

In the middle of town in Leicester, they had this lovely display of the story of Mr. Toad. Some of the figures moved.


Check out the lovely weasels! I know they are the bad guys in the story, but I am still their biggest fan. 

There is Mr. Toad and Badger

The Town Hall was lit up to the nines!

It was all very beautiful...

...and shiny!

Leicester has another large tree in the centre of town where all the shops are. 

The Haymarket Memorial Clock Tower was all lit up behind the tree as well.

There were lots of chalk messages on the ground around the tree. Mainly they were anti-war and anti-hate messages about Syria and the refugees. It was lovely to see such an outpouring of support for those who had been forced from their homes.

What is Christmastime without baking cookies?

I have learned a lot of the Dutch names for spices from using Ceciel's containers. Here we have Nutmeg, Ginger, and Cinnamon.

Mount Gingerbread

The recipe called for molasses. After staring at the shelves in the Sainsbury's for a good ten minutes, I googled black treacle on my phone and discovered that I could use this instead.

Even my camera began to go into a sugar haze from this stuff!

The batter came out perfectly!

I let the dough chill for about an hour in the refrigerator. 

What? T-Rexes are Christmasy!

I was so glad the cookies came out so well. I let them cool overnight.

Alright, so I'm not the most accomplished icer in the world but I have to say I got a lot better as I went on. 

See this one isn't terrible!

And this T-Rex is positively adorable.

Thanks for reading! Happy holidays!