Two Months-ish to go!

Just over two months out from the wedding—YIKES!

Things are, as my mother keeps reminding me, falling into place. There have been some bumps along the way (the latest being having to find a new hairdresser), but after a few mini panic sessions now and then I am able to regain a calm and cool composure. Or something. My mother is amazing, and each time there's a hiccup she finds a solution. It's nice having a mum I can trust—her decision making abilities certainly make this a lot easier.

The invites are finalised and so far, knock on wood, we are on schedule for posting them! I'm not leaving people much time to RSVP, but I figure since we sent out Save the Dates this is fine—the point of not leaving much time is to encourage people to not forget. We'll see how that goes. I think the invites look lovely, and after they get mailed I'll post a pic—very fairytale/woodsy looking, I think. I feel really blessed that David's dad agreed to design them for us. It's very special.

Our Canadian honeymoon (or honeymoon part I) is booked, although my significant other has requested that the location be kept secret. But it will be lovely, and we're both looking forward to it. I say Honeymoon Part I because we are unable to take a long honeymoon since we have to travel back to the UK and get back to work. Part II will consist of traveling about England & Europe over the next 2 years (or at least until we have a kid. Then the honeymoon is over, lol).

Today I went browsing in one of the malls and found the dress I'll be wearing either to the rehearsal dinner OR as a going away dress. I hope to get it next weekend—I just need David to have a look at it...and provide me with his student card for the sweet, sweet 10% discount.

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Life in Cambridge has been quiet of late. David has a writing deadline of Monday this week, followed by a defence mid-June, so our weekends have been fairly quiet. We did spend a lovely Sunday afternoon walking to Fen Ditton with some friends, and we also had a fun late night out with people from my work, but mostly things are just quiet and, at least for me, peaceful. There's currently an English heat-wave (ie: 26-30 outside) and I am pleased to discover that our flat stays nice and cool. The giant fire door on the kitchen is a blessing as well, because it allows me to contain all the cooking heat in one room.

Spring cleaning is off to a good start, and at the rate I'm going I should be done by the start of summer. As we're not entertaining much since everyone is busy with exams, and as we have no guests coming to stay this summer, I feel no need to rush.

Cattle in the Midsummer Common (I think we buy their delicious cow meats from our butcher)

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Cattle on the fens (en route to Fen Ditton)

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David and I outside of the very medieval church of St Mary the Virgin (or something like that)

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View from the lawn of The Plough in Fen Ditton where we stopped for afternoon pints. David rows by here during practice.

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Me + Colleague + Colleague's Husband relaxing at the work Rounders Game on Jesus Green

Tea in Grantchester

It's a sunny but cold May Day bank holiday here in East Anglia. I am enjoying the first of my "never in Canada!" bank holidays, and I finally have time to write about our idyllic day in Grantchester. There is a Cambridge tradition, from the last century, of taking tea outdoors in the orchard at The Orchard, so we decided to avail ourselves us this on the first sunny Saturday in April.

It is about a 4 mile walk from our house to the Orchard. As we'd never been there before we walked through town and along Grantchester Road. This involved a detour through the Clare Gardens, my first visit to them (beautiful!) and a chance to see the outsides of some colleges. Then city gave way to college-owned gaming fields, which in turn gave way to farm land, and we found ourselves in the English countryside.

It was a beautiful day for a walk—the sun was hot, the air was fresh, and the ground firm & dry. Eventually we got tired of dodging cars on the narrow road so we trekked across a farmer's field, with David making jokes about angry farmers and their guns. Just when I began to wonder how much farther we had to go (and curse our lack of water bottle), we saw the GRANTCHESTER sign. We paused for pictures, as it is not every day that one walks to a neighbouring town. Just after David took my picture we heard a gunshot hear our heads. "I say, is someone shooting at us?" I assumed it was a farmer, angry that we trekked in his tractor tracks, so we walked very swiftly toward town. Just as we neared the first building we saw a farmer with a gun in one hand and a pheasant in the other. We relaxed our pace back to stroll.

The town was picturesque, with actual thatched roof cottages. We strolled toward The Orchard, which was entered by a little path through the trees. Then unfolded acres of grass, budding trees, and people sitting at low tables in canvas deck chairs, enjoying their afternoon tea. The line-up for the tea house was long, and once inside it was a cafeteria-style set up (reminding me strongly of the BC ferries!), although they give you this blue plastic square that vibrates and flashes with red lights when your lunch food is ready.

Soon we were settled in a corner of the orchard, resting weary bodies in the comfortable chairs, and presiding over our first English High Tea. Cranberry & brie, and cheese & bramston pickle sandwiches; elderflower soda (it tastes like someone bottled the essence of spring); scones with clotted cream and jam; flavourful tea. It was perfection. We must have lingered for at least an hour, slowly eating and just enjoying the fresh green air. How lovely to picnic in a land where one is not troubled by wasps or mosquitoes! How wonderful to consume a rich lunch with the true hunger of a good mornings walk!

We decided to walk home by following the Cam. We passed picnickers, campers, punters, kayakers, and even a couple of canoes. Everywhere I looked were the lush grasslands and willows of the riverside, happy groups of friends & families enjoying the April sunshine, and people moving by on the water. Then, in the distance, we saw the first of the Cambridge church spires, and I experience the thrill of seeing our town appear on the horizon as we walked towards it. It seemed so displaced from the 21^st century, where you go so fast in your car that by the time you notice the town appearing you are already in it.

Home then, to rest weary feet and spend an evening of quiet rest indoors.

Adventures in Cookie-Land

I really should write about last weekend, when David and I walked 4 miles to a nearby town for High Tea. In fact, I planned to write about it today, because this is a work-weekend (writing & research with a deadline looming) for David which basically killed any hope of an adventure together, and signing up to do overtime at work killed any nascent plans for a Saturday of complete leisure. Then I decided to bake cookies.

The cookie recipe (which I'll put at the end of this) says "prep time: 10 minutes". I anticipated this would take longer—cooking with North American recipes is always an adventure in Britain unless you're willing to tramp around town looking for ingredients. And for any Cambridge area readers I may have, yes, I do realise that the big Tescos probably has what I want, but unless you're willing to give me a ride there I am using Sainsbury's. Thank you.

Back to the cookies. I bought ingredients on my way home from work. I was proud of myself for overcoming the obstacles of not being able to find things because the Brits place things in weird places/name them different. No chocolate chips to be seen, but a bar of white bakers chocolate should suffice! No jell-o, but hey look, something in near-identical packaging called "artificial orange-flavoured jelly". Overcoming these obstacles is what separates the sheep from the goats in the world of cooking.

Fast-forward to today. Preparation is key in cooking, so I give the kitchen a quick scrub and begin to make the chocolate chunks out of my bar of white chocolate. I hit it with a can of cranberry sauce (from the USA) and it gives a little, but not in the way I'm expecting. So I turn the can on its side and go at it, letting out my aggression. I stop after five minutes, the bar of chocolate still relatively whole but my cranberry sauce sporting a massive dent. I don't know if it's that American tins are weak, or if continental chocolate is strong, but there we have it. I try my rolling pin on it, again to no avail. Eventually I have to give up and use scissors, cutting the broken pieces into chunks and occasionally nipping my finger. But it's ok, because I'm being creative. I'm getting things done.

Mixing the dry ingredients goes well. Then time to cream the butter and sugar. Unfortunately the mixing bowl I have has very sloped sides, and the mixer I pillaged from the "give & take" box in the Clare laundry is good but not super powerful. It takes me probably 15 minutes to achieve something close to fluff. The walls, the floors, myself, all covered in clumps of buttery sugar. I hate mess so much, but I just have to keep going because every time I clean it up it returns like some nightmare monster.

Now it's time to add the jelly. I rip into the box, expecting to see friendly orange powder, and am instead greeted with a giant block of jelly the consistency of a gummi-bear. For a minute I consider admitting defeat, but the Slavic-Canadians of this world do not admit defeat when money has been spent! I try, for some stupid reason, to blend the jelly into my sugar mix. This only serves to coat it in sugar-butter. Then I get the bright idea of melting it on the stove. It's a gas range, so I have a lot of temperature control. One huge block of jelly turned into a soupy, smelly orange mixture. I questioned my sanity at this point, but to my surprise it worked! And it didn't burn!

There were only a couple minor hiccups after this—coating the kitchen in strings of quickly cooling jelly, having my dry ingredients overflow onto the counter when I tried to mix my dough (which I ended up having to do in batches in a sauce pan and then knead the chocolate chunks into), having to rinse my cooking stuff in the tub because the kitchen sink is too small (and I was terrified of clogging the drain with cooled jelly).

The last batch of cookies is in the oven. The recipe made about 66, which is a small victory as it was supposed to yield around 6 dozen and I lost a lot of ingredients on the way due to overflow. David and I sampled some still warm cookies and they are divine. Buttery, with a hint of orange and a cut of creamy chocolate… Yeah, my prep time may have taken 50 minutes longer than the recipe said, but it was worth it. And I feel like the Domestic Goddess crown is legitimately mine today, because in a world where people can't cook unless they can find the brand names mentioned in the Kraft Recipe and then use their $350 kitchen-aid mixer to combine them, I have made a successful 66 cookies by the sweat of my brow, relying on creativity when things didn't go as planned. I am a baking survivor!

Cookie recipe can be found here: http://homecooking.about.com/od/cookierecipes/r/blcookie115.htm

A rather belated entry on our Sixth Anniversary

I had something beautifully sappy written for our six-year anniversary, but then the day itself proved to be exceptionally magical. So—our last anniversary as "single persons" and our first anniversary abroad:

By some happy twist of fate (or math) our anniversary ended up on the same day of the week that it did the first year we went out. And since this day of the week happens to be a Saturday we had the very happy experience of being free for the entire day.

In the morning David made breakfast while I ran to the bakery for fresh bread (and cookies). The morning then unfolded like most Saturdays, by which I mean we strolled to town, stopping at the butchers on the way, and ran errands both fun and mundane. We did a little shopping, and this included getting a toaster. Why did it take us six months to buy a toaster? Because this is not just any toaster. No, this is a polka dot toaster. And having seen said toaster in December I was unwilling to settle for a cheaper, boring, white toaster. One has to have standards in these things! So I convinced David to go halves with me.

Then home for a relaxing afternoon. We had plans to go to The Old Spring, which could be described as a gastro-pub, for dinner, but due to a long-lasting Skype call we didn't even leave until close to 7. And since the Old Spring has a 3 hour window for serving food and just happens to be immensely popular we were unable to get a table (not knowing you could make reservations). Undaunted we walked back to town in the hopes of finding a restaurant…and in Cambridge eateries are dime a dozen, but finding the right one can be of epic proportions. I think we turned down about 10 potentials (too Italian, too expensive, not special enough) before a happy chance took us down Pembroke Street, and an even happier chance (and my habit of peering in windows) showed us the glint of candlelight. And there it was: Fitzbillies. Otherwise advertised as "Cambridge's best kept secret".

The restaurant looked way out of our price range, yet fate decreed otherwise and the menu just happened to have three mains (out of six) that fit our student budget. So we entered, and were swiftly seated in a small intimate room lit by candles and stained glass art deco sconces. The view out the large window was of a very European (ie: old in all the right ways) street. And then we commenced one of the best meals we've had since coming to England—smoked cheese, artichoke, pancetta, & tomato tart on a bed of sautéed green beans & rocket for me; pear, walnut, & blue cheese salad for David. We both had the beef bourguignon with mash & green beans for our main course. There was also perfectly fresh sliced baguette and creamy butter. Yet a good meal is not enough to take this dinner to extraordinary proportions for an anniversary—David surprised me with a bottle of champagne. It sort of tipped the balance into romantic overload, particularly as the ice bucket was held in a wrought iron stand that looked perfectly gothic.

So there I was, enjoying five-star food in an old restaurant on an old street in the heart of Cambridge, drinking fine champagne and just enjoying a completely carefree anniversary with my fiancé. And I realised—it doesn't get much better than this. In fact this is one of those things that always seems to be happening to other people (skewed reality from books, movies, and people who travel) and which I never thought would happen to me. I am so *not* the type of person to ever plan to move to a foreign country. It was a great moment. Hell, it was a great evening!

After dinner we walked home, and the streets were bright with moonlight and some of the colleges stood out from the shadows like medieval castles. When we got to the fields by our flat the sky was huge with billowing clouds and a full moon. It was breathtaking, and so silent out… just lovely.

So here is to six happy years, and hopes for at least sixty more! Neither of us suspected that as we struggled to make non-awkward conversation over Vietnamese food on our first date that we'd be dining together in an English restaurant six years later. And I love it, because not only do I find it amazing I also find it so essential to one of the things I love about being with David—life is a constant adventure, because we seek new things and fun times wherever we are. It's pretty damn great.

I know you'd rather see a picture of my super-awesome-toaster than a picture of me & David!

Saturday Blessings

Ever notice that people complain a lot? I mean there's kind of a general atmosphere of negativity, gloom, and possibly even despair hanging over people in general, if not in specifics. So I'm going to try to do my share of being positive, because I know that at least for myself focusing on positive things makes me feel better, makes the world just a little bit brighter, and means that at least for 4/5 days at work I come in smiling and just being happy to have a good ½ mile walk in the crisp morning air. I feel incredibly blessed to have the life that I'm living right now, and I feel that getting trapped in negativity because things don't always work as planned, and certainly aren't always easy, would be throwing that gift back, or at least devaluing it.

On the note of things being hard, this week certainly has been. I've had a cold, a sore back triggered by that and a poor mattress, and to top it all off I fainted in the middle of a meeting at work and broke my fall with my face. So I've been in a lot of pain and discomfort, and certainly have not been easy to live with or overly positive this week!

But there are positives, and now that it's Saturday and my weekend chores are over. Things that made me happy today:

- being able to buy fresh, reasonably priced, local or at least nearby meat from the butchers. Eating happy animals makes me happy.

- getting a 45p chick sugar cookie from the bakers and discovering that the frosting is lemon flavoured.

- wiring money to Canada and experiencing an exchange rate just over 1.5...simply because I am glad it is not lower.

- confirming from my doctor's appointment on Thursday that my blood pressure is normal. Wasn't expecting that!

- having a wonderful fiancé who forces me to go for extra walks just to see flowers blooming along the backs at Clare.

- having a wonderful fiancé who spent the week putting up with my grouchiness and spaciness without losing his temper.

- buying 80p worth of gummibears from a stall in the market to munch on a walk home

- hearing positive things about our wedding/save the dates from people we talk to

That is my list for today, at least so far! And it's not yet three o'clock and I have a whole glorious afternoon and evening in which to read and rest.

Also, hope you enjoy what I am titling "Smash Face". I carpet burned my forehead and nose, cut the inside of my lip, and bruised the bridge of my nose. My mum showed this photo to my Grandma who said that I was very good looking and could she please have a copy. I love my Grandma!

Shoes!!!!

The wedding shoes have arrived! Or at least the shoes I hope to wear for the wedding have arrived!

When I bought my dress she told me to wear a heel. And these ones have a 4cm (ie: low kitten) heel. Since I can't try my dress on until I'm home in July, I had a discussion with some people who agreed that I might as well buy the shoes, bring 'em to my fitting, and then see if I like how they look. If they don't work I have some options—a really beautiful pair of painted "silk" flats I bought in San Francisco, or going to payless or walmart and picking up a cheap pair of flats for the ceremony.

When I wear these shoes I do not want to take them off. They are so pretty and unique and shoegasmic. There was a worrying moment where it looked like I couldn't do one of them up, as they're all stiff and new at the moment, but after some fiddling I managed, and they are surprisingly comfortable. My feet have never been overly fond of pointy-toed shoes, and the toe part on these is no different, but I plan to break them in and hopefully by the wedding they are fine. At least they don't hurt my ankles, which is the problem I usually experiencing with flats.

Also, in my joy over shoes I totally did not clue in to what my mum told me on the phone—Save the Dates are going out today! Well, probably tomorrow by the time the postman collects, but! I actually feel quite guilty because to save work for my parents I made all these address labels...which then didn't format correctly for printing and my mother retyped them all. And now she and dad seemed to have pulled off an amazing feat of love and gotten all 75 or so labelled and ready for post within two days. Have I mentioned that my parents are amazing?

I also feel slightly terrified that we are now sending out the pre-invites, as in this is actually happening.

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Thankfulness & Grace

Written on Sunday:

Today is a day that makes me glad to be alive. The sun is shining, so bright, and it woke me up this morning and I just lay in bed being infused with its glorious light. My body and subsequent mental health is so dependent on sunlight, and lately I have just enjoyed waking up Happy.

I think it is a great gift to be 26 years old and happy. You may not think it is, but when so many people are miserable/depressed, and seem to just get more gloomy as they age, it is a sign of hope that my joy in life is increasing. I am certainly not happy, not free from care, every day and often not even for an entire day, but joy in the morning seems to me to be a great blessing in life.

It is wonderful to catch a glimpse of myself in the glass or mirror and notice that I really AM getting thinner (thank you power-walking and less soda). It is lovely to have a partner who is so consistently and constantly supportive, because I am so quick to be negative about myself and he is so quick to correct me.

I don't have a fantastic envy-inducing job, but in these times I think it is enough to have a job, and a blessing to have a job that I can at least enjoy on various levels. I may not have much in the way of large possessions, but I have a large light-filled flat and low rent, furniture provided by the college so that we didn't have to incur debt in buying some, and the benefits of walking 1-2 miles a day. I may not be able to afford fancy vacations, but with a little planning ahead I can afford a day trip to London or into the English countryside. I may not have a lot of money, but my debts are decreasing and I am once again able to buy groceries without having to worry about how to pay for them.

If I am to be realistic I can say that I will not retain this positive outlook forever, perhaps not even all day. Eventually I may get hungry and grumpy, or my over-sensitive feelings will get hurt and I'll sulk, but for the moment I revel in a feeling of perfect joy, and pray for the grace to experience a continuance of the feeling that all is right in my little world.