I Know It When I See It

(I want to preface this post with the disclaimer that, while I'm desperate for women to have the legal rights and the social freedom to do whatever they want, I'm not generally a rabid feminist.  I mean, yesterday's post espoused cooking pot pie for your man to make him happy, so I think we can all agree that my stance on sexual equality is, at best, confused.)

You all know, dear readers, that I'm a Democrat; this blog doesn't try to hide my liberal leanings.  Just in case you were still wondering, though, I took a very thorough test to determine where on the social and economic spectrum I might fall in comparison to some contemporary world leaders.  To be honest, I expect to be placed much closer to the center though still in the same quadrant, but apparently I actually overlap almost exactly with the Dalai Lama.  (In order to put myself on the chart I had to cover up his dot to make room for my star - oops.)

I also will admit that I've sort of gone to town in mocking this current crop of Presidential hopefuls from the Republican party.  My intention has been to poke fun gently rather than maliciously and I hope I've been successful because I don't want to insult or alienate anyone.  However, the latest story to come out of the nominating race has offended and outraged me so deeply that I feel compelled to take up my pen.

Herman Cain has been dodging accusations of sexual harassment for the past few weeks from several women who worked for him while he led the National Restaurant Association; he has consistently denied having engaged in any inappropriate behavior and, though his poll numbers have slipped in part as a result of these allegations, he is still one of the leading contenders for the Republican nomination.  The possibility that these stories are true has not dampened his supporters' faith in him.

However, earlier this week a woman named Ginger White claimed to have had an extramarital affair with Cain that lasted for thirteen years.  He denies it, of course, saying that their relationship was purely platonic, but it is this latest scandal that is causing conservatives to question his suitability and is sending his supporters running for the hills:

The allegation is one that could upend his presidential campaign... I think this is the most damaging allegation that has been made to date.  No question about it.
- Former Governor Mike Huckabee

[The latest accusations] created doubt in people's minds whether or not another shoe will drop.
- Fox News host Sean Hannity 

Representative Michele Bachmann of Minnesota said the accusations raised urgent questions about his conservative convictions.
- The New York Times


I cannot grasp an ideology in which allegations of an extramarital affair are more damaging than those of sexual harassment.  I cannot comprehend a belief system in which adultery is worse than assault.   I cannot fathom a code of morality in which it is acceptable to force unwanted attention on a woman but unacceptable to cheat on your wife.  The above assessments from Huckabee, Hannity, and Bachmann might be rooted in a social contract or religious covenant with which I am not familiar, and I do acknowledge that everyone has his/her own opinions and I certainly don't expect us all to always agree.  But I simply cannot understand a philosophy in which the possibility of harassment pales in comparison to the possibility of an extramarital affair.

Beyond my disbelief that these views are not only held but are broadcasted by people in the public eye, I am concerned about the message that this sends to those who are in vulnerable positions and/or are susceptible to sexual harassment - which could be, if we're honest, many of us in one way or another.

A recent ABC/WashPost study revealed that a quarter of American women have experienced sexual harassment in the workplace (compared to 1 in 10 men).  Only 36% of the women polled who had been harassed reported it to their employer; of those who didn't report, 31% said it was because it didn't seem important enough, 14% said it wouldn't do any good, and 18% were concerned about the consequences.  If we send the message that sexual harassment is not a big deal, it will become more prevalent while decreasing further the percentage of victims willing to accuse their harassers.

Look, I get that everyone has a different definition of sexual harassment, but as Justice Potter said of pornography, I know it when I see it.  Often these instances hinge on pre-established relationships and circumstances; many of my colleagues and I banter in a way that could be construed by an outsider as harassment but which is, to us, familiar and even comfortable.  But this should in no way detract from those cases in which women (and men) feel abused or taken advantage of by someone more powerful.  These situations must be taken seriously and followed through appropriately.

We live in a world where, as was discovered in a recent study by the American Association of University Women, 48% of American children in grades 7-12 experienced sexual harassment in the last school year; 56% of girls and 40% percent of boys surveyed said that they had been sexually harassed verbally, physically, or electronically.  Of those who said they had been sexually harassed, 9% reported it to someone in authority at school, 27% talked about it with a family member, and 23% discussed it with a friend, while half did not tell anyone about the harassment at all.  95% of those who identified as harassers had themselves been sexually harassed.

In light of all of these figures, it cannot be emphasized enough that sexual harassment exists and that it is unacceptable.  Leaders in every sphere of influence need to recognize that sexual harassment is a big deal - that it can hugely negatively affect the victims and that allegations must therefore be responded to appropriately.  If we sweep accusations of sexual harassment under the rug, we give our implicit consent for it to continue and even for it to become more casual and common.

I cannot believe that this needs to be enunciated, but if we must say this because it is not already accepted let us do so loud and clear so that even the powerful can hear and and understand that sexual harassment is wrong and that those who are guilty of sexually harassing others must face the consequences of their actions.

The Way To A Man's Heart

I started drafting a post on Boston yesterday but then I bribed Jon to come to my house for dinner with the promise of yummy comfort food and so I decided that what you all are really missing in your lives is a few pointers on...

the way to a man's heart

which is

as it turns out

primarily but not exclusively

through his stomach

Now, I'm not an expert on this sort of thing.  I've got a boyfriend, sure, and I think he's generally pretty happy to be with me, but my other qualifications are along the lines of "I'd want this if I were a guy" and "I'd be happy to walk next to a man who had this."  If you think that these are solid credentials, keep reading!

Jon and I are saving up for a holiday in the Scottish Highlands in mid-February (yes, we're totally crazy) and so decided to keep any gifts we give each other relatively low-key and low-cost.  However, if I were to buy him real presents with my imaginary limitless checkbook, I'd respect his request to only receive useful items that he can wear.  It sounds pretty boring, but I approached it as a challenge - and I discovered that "useful" and "gorgeous" are not mutually exclusive.  Look what I found:

Burberry Shearling Collar Biker Jacket

Tiffany Notes square cufflinks

Paul Smith Plum Trainers

Hermès Pois de Croix tie

If your budget doesn't stretch to these sort of goodies - Lord knows mine doesn't - you can always go the DIY route and cook something delicious for your man.  For example, you could copy me (go ahead, I don't mind) and make the absolutely amazing and oh-so-easy chicken pot pie that I created last night.

image via SmittenKitchen, which also has an excellent (but more complicated) recipe

Chicken Pot Pie

makes four servings

500g chicken breast, diced

2 tbs butter

250g chestnut mushrooms, sliced

4 carrots, chopped

2 sticks celery, chopped

1 small onion, chopped

1/2c frozen peas

1 can cream of chicken soup

1 tsp garlic powder

puff pastry (I used a 375g piece but the size you need will depend on the dish you use)

salt, pepper, olive oil

Season the chicken with salt and pepper and sauté in a little bit of olive oil until cooked through.  Set chicken aside and clean out the pan.  Melt the butter in the pan and sauté the onion until translucent; add the mushrooms, carrots, and celery and cook until soft, stirring frequently.  Mix in the peas and keep on the heat for a further two or three minutes.

In the meantime, flour a work surface as well as a rolling pin (I used a wine bottle, natch) and roll out the puff pastry until thin.  Butter the inside of a casserole dish and lay the puff pastry inside, leaving enough dough on the edges to cover the pot pie.

Pour the chicken and the vegetables into a big bowl and add the soup, combining well.  Mix in the garlic powder and add salt and pepper to taste.  Pour the mixture into the pastry-lined casserole dish and fold the edges of the dough over the top, sealing as possible.  (Possible supreme additional step: grate Manchego over the top of the pot pie.)

Cook the pot pie in the oven at 200*c for 40 minutes or until the top is golden.  Let cool a bit, then ladle into bowls and enjoy!

Monday Laugh

Of all the viral videos floating about on the interwebs, this is one of the most beautiful and creative that I have seen in a long time.  It just goes to show that we all have dreams, and that a little imagination will help us achieve the impossible.

Home Sweet Christmas Season

Sloane Square, November 2011

I have returned to SW12, dear readers, and I truly loved being in the States with my family and friends for Thanksgiving but it must be admitted that I'm ready to start the festive season in London.  Since I got back to my flat via Heathrow this morning, I have been playing the Michael Bublé Christmas album on repeat; when I went to Sainsbury's this afternoon to restock my fridge, I picked up an obnoxiously red poinsettia - I love Christmas trees in other people's houses but feel some classic Old Testament guilt about having one in my own, though obviously this will have to be readdressed next year when Jon and I are shacking up again -  plus everything I need to make gingersnaps, and tomorrow's lunch mission will be to find some lovely fairy lights and perhaps even the materials to craft one of Martha's wreaths for my front door.  The Christmas spirit is upon us!

You'll get a full recap of my holiday later on in the week; I'm still a bit woozy from jetlag (I slept for the first three hours of the flight but then got distracted by the selection of movies, though to be honest I didn't think that The Help lived up to the hype) and so there's no way you'd read anything coherent if I tried to write at the moment.

I hope you had a wonderful holiday or, if you're not American, a lovely late-November weekend.  Onward and upward to December!

Sketch at Hampstead: Evening (Constable, October 1820)

(By the way, I read all three books of The Hunger Games trilogy in two and a half days while in DC.  There's a word I'm looking for to describe how I feel about them - it may be "obsessed" or possibly "fanatic," and even though I wasn't crazy about the last book the excitement of diving into the world of Panem in the first two more than made up for the anti-climactic ending.  Yes, I love Young Adult fantasy novels.  Judge me.  Extra by the way, did you hear that Anne McCaffrey died?  I went through a huge dragon-related literature phase when I was a teenager because of her.  Thank goodness the torch is being passed on, though, I guess.)

Frock Fridays

Now that Thanksgiving is over, I can say: with the holidays approaching, we are in the full swing of party season.  I've already found myself in front of my wardrobe - and by "wardrobe" I mean "open clothes rack in the corner of the room" - wondering what to wear to all sorts of outings. Shindigs with colleagues, gatherings with family, soirées with friends...

I think that if I had this DVF frock, I'd be set for anything my social calendar might throw at me.

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Anyone fancy buying me an early Hannukah present?  Thanks.

Being Thankful

Unlike last year, I wasn't really that nervous about coming back to the States for Thanksgiving in the run-up to this trip.  I think to a large extent it's because last year I felt that I had to prove something.  I felt that I had to prove that I had made the right choice in moving to London, that I was happy in my new life, that I didn't regret anything.  This year, although I'm really not too much older or wiser, I now know that, as Maya Angelou wrote, "You alone are enough.  You have nothing to prove to anybody."

Part of what brought that axiom home was my break-up and subsequent reconciliation with Jon, but a lot of it was also the trip to Berlin with my friend Christian.  I didn't really talk about the end of the holiday on this blog and I will maintain that confidence out of respect for the relationship that we shared, but I will say that what happened - the choices I made and Christian's actions in response - taught me a valuable lesson about friendship.  Because of these two incidents, I feel that I have to own up to myself in a way that really is new to me; I feel that I have to accept that I have made mistakes and I have to learn from them and, inevitably, I have to move on.

To that end, while the things I am thankful for this season are relatively rote, I have a new and active appreciation for them:

I am thankful for my family, who cheer me through my adventures and who support me through my misadventures.

with Sarah in Boston, 2011

I am thankful for Jon, whose enduring faith in me outlasts my own doubt in myself and whose love sustains my soul.

with Jon in London, 2010

I am thankful for my friends, who look past my insecurities to understand my heart and who create a home for me wherever they are.

with JHo and Stins in DC, 2008

And I am thankful to all of you, who follow me on this journey and who challenge me to be accountable and true.

May you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and may you enjoy the peace that lives in active appreciation.

Holiday Traveling in Style

Thanksgiving is tomorrow, dear readers!  Are you ready?  I hope you're all packed and prepared - unless, of course, you're indulging like Danielle with family in and meals out.  (Lunch cooked by a Wolseley-trained chef?  Yes, please!)  However you're celebrating the holiday, I wish that your stress levels will be low and your bliss high.  I for one have sworn not to call my office while I'm away, although my track record is pretty bad as it's slightly a little bit possible that I rang them while in DC last year...

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If you're suffering the indignities of transatlantic travel - we flew American Airlines, where the stewardesses were grumpy, the hot lunch left a lot to be desired, and the TV screens were communal rather than personal - remember the serenity prayer:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

the courage to change the things I can,

and the wisdom to know the difference.

In this spirit, I feel that the best way to travel is with lashings of style.  If I could, I'd invest in a few gorgeous timeless pieces that would take me across the ocean and back for years.

I'd need a huge Mulberry suitcase that I could check; it would have to be flexible enough to allow me to cram in more pairs of shoes than I'd actually need but sturdy enough to withstand being thrown around the baggage carousel...

I'd need a large Longchamp weekender that I could carry on the plane; it would have to be the perfect size not only to bring on long trips but also to serve as my main bag for shorter jaunts and would need to fold up easily when not in use...

I'd need a roomy but structured Céline purse that could fit the essentials plus a laptop; it would have to be eye-catching enough not to get lost under the seat in front of me but conservative enough to match any outfit I might choose...

And then, if I had a little change left over, I'd splurge on a monogrammed pink Smythson passport case.  I mean, why not?

After all, if you have to shlep, you might as well look good doing it.

My Mini Thanksgiving

Two weeks ago, I decided that I wanted to cook my own Thanksgiving meal.  I'm delighted that I'm back at my parents' house for the holiday, but, as an aspirational nester, I'm really looking forward to the day when I can offer to host Thanksgiving for my family.  It's never too early to start practicing, I thought, and so I invited some friends over and prepared a mini festive feast.

Let me tell you, dear readers: while the supermarkets always carry turkey mince and some pieces of the bird, it is impossible to get the real thing in early November without pre-ordering it especially.  (The Brits traditionally eat turkey for Christmas dinner, so it's available in the run-up to 25 December but not so much before.)  Even though I only wanted a breast, I lacked the foresight to realize this, and so called three butcher shops before finding one.  There was success at the end (5.5lbs of it!) but this is definitely something I'll take into consideration next time to minimize stress.

The menu was relatively simple, actually, and was designed to let us linger over our wine.  We started with a mushroom and Stilton pizza (or two) that was based roughly off this recipe.  The mains were turkey breast crammed with stuffing, roasted garlic brussels sprouts, and cauliflower cheese (which is such an English dish but I was having a yearning so I included it anyway; basically, it's cauliflower cooked in a béchamel sauce).  Dessert was cheese with my new sweet staple, chocolate chip biscotti.

The one bit of this meal that made me anxious was the stuffing, which I've never made before.  I've heard so many horror stories about serving bone-dry stuffing - or worse, potentially killing your guests with undercooked stuffing...

I did a lot of research online; every celebrity chef seems to have his or her own particular recipe for stuffing (Ina, Jamie, the Neelys, etc.) but in the end I decided to make my own by following a template I found on the Food Network website.  It was a huge hit, of course!

Sausage and Sage Stuffing

Brown .5kg sausage meat (I used one that had caramelized red onions in it) in 6 tbs butter over medium heat in a heavy dutch oven.  Add two cups each diced onions and celery and 1 tbs each minced sage and thyme plus salt and pepper to taste and cook, stirring frequently to dislodge the bits on the bottom, for five minutes.  Pour in three cups chicken broth and bring to a simmer.

Meanwhile, beat two eggs with 1/4c chopped parsley in a bowl.  Add 16 cups cubed stale bread (I crumbled 14 toasted dinner rolls for this) and let soak in the egg mixture until the broth has simmered. Mix the breadcrumbs/eggs/parsley with the broth; combine well.  Dot the top of the stuffing with pats of butter.  Cover and bake at 190*c (375*f) for 30 minutes.  Then either stuff the turkey and cook according to the turkey recipe or uncover and bake 30 more minutes until golden (I did both, as there was more stuffing than the breast could hold).

Nom, for real.  Is it bad that I might make this again even without turkey?  Because it's probably going to happen.

Monday Laugh

Many of my expat friends in the UK are hosting their own Thanksgiving meals or are going to communal feasts with other American compatriots.  Others are heading back to the States, returning to their parents or to their extended families.  Wherever you're planning to go this Thursday, you probably shouldn't arrive empty-handed...

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I've been told to prepare for my mother's Thanksgiving extravaganza by emailing her requests for my favorite foods - hello, roasted sweet potatoes! - but I'm definitely going to bring my best sous-chef skills, too.  How about you?

Thanksgiving in London

Hello from Boston!  Jon and I had lots of fun on the flight over trying to talk as if we were in The Departed - I mean, The Depahted.  I'm pretty sure we annoyed the hell out of the guy sitting next to us.  I think my blogging plan for this week will be to focus on Thanksgiving; I'll tell you all about my trip home once I've returned.  (Hindsight is 20/20, they say, so you'll get a clearer view.  The things I do for you, dear readers!)

Norman Rockwell, 1942

Therefore!  Thanksgiving.  And to start - although I'm currently in the land of the free and the home of the brave - let's talk about Thanksgiving in London.  What's an expat to do when work or finances or other obligations keep her in that green and pleasant land across the Atlantic?  Luckily, there are options available to you, o wanderer-who-is-far-from home.  I've picked out three equally amazing yet incredibly different possibilities for you:

You could head to Bea's of Bloomsbury for a communal feast priced at £45 per person (plus £15 for an unlimited drink ticket).  Their savory food is just as amazing and creative as their cakes, so check it out if you want a slightly indie and boutique Thanksgiving experience.

Or you could make a reservation at Hix at the Albemarle.  The classiest choice of these three, the restaurant has a special set menu for £49.50 per person (not including drinks) and is the place to go if you want white tablecloths and an impressive winelist.

If you're jonesing for a a down-and-dirty celebration of everything America holds dear, book your spot at Bodean's BBQ all-day feast.  The screens will be tuned to NFL from 5:30pm - for £20.95 per person, this is your spot if you want a gloriously collegiate five-napkin experience.

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Of course, if you're a homebody the truly perfect option is to head to Whole Foods to pick up containers of your favorite culinary bits of Thanksgiving; sometimes the best way to appreciate what you have is by curling up on the couch and watching reruns of The Inbetweeners over a cardboard box of tryptophan and a bottle of red.  (I swear I'm not judging you.  Actually, this sounds sort of ideal.)

Much love to all back in London, and remember: even if you're working all week, it's technically a holiday from tomorrow through Friday if you're American , so take it easy.

Homeward Bound

So long, England.  Hello, America!

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Boston: Saturday-Monday

New York City: Tuesday

Washington, DC: Wednesday-Saturday

Frock Fridays - Versace for H&M

I'm loving the current craze for designers to create capsule collections for high street shops.  Although the prices are more affordable than the couture lines, they're still often a bit out of my range, but they're close enough that I can dream and drool!  (Hello, Roksanda Ilinic for Debenhams... would you like to be my friend?)

Yesterday the biggest and brightest of these collaborations launched in the UK: Versace for H&M.  Women were apparently queuing for hours to guarrantee they'd snag their chosen pieces from the store on Regent Street.  (You can access the collection on the H&M website, but I only got through once out of the eight times I tried because the web traffic is so out of control.)

Versace is a little too in-your-face for me - I know, gasp, I'm sorry; I'm clearly not a true fashionista - but if I could get away with wearing this studded leather number to the office I definitely would.  Hey, I work in theatre - we're a creative industry!

Jonathan Saunders for Smythson

This is old news, I know, but I just checked out Jonathan Saunders' collection for famed British stationery company Smythson, long a favorite of mine.  (When I say favorite, I mean that I drool over their products and cry over their prices.)  Walking past the shop just off Sloane Square to check out the goods, I had to stop to snap the display - it is very Whistler!

Of course, the diaries and notebooks aren't bad either...

What an excellent gift these would make!  Just the right size for a Christmas stocking.  Hey, I know a certain handsome boyfriend who could probably use a 2012 diary to note down all of our dates!  Maybe Santa will be extra generous this year.

Where To Stay When Coming To London

Since I moved to London in June 2010, I've gotten a number of requests for accommodation recommendations from friends looking for places to stay here in town.  Some times the queries are just for options for brief holidays; other times the questions are about where to stay for a few weeks or even months.  I thought it might be helpful to do a primer on where to stay in London with a few different scenarios - hopefully one will help you!

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First, though, three (possibly universal, at least according to me) truths about short-term stays:

- If you're coming to London for work/study, find out if your job/university can provide you with accommodation.  (Same goes if you're visiting friends!)  Even if you want to strike out and do your own thing in terms of housing, it's a good idea to go through official channels first.  Your contacts can suggest sponsored options, like halls of residence, or endorsed alternative options, like private dormitories, or even sanctioned forums where you can find flats and flatmates, like the University of London's Housing Services website.

- If you do decide to go off-piste straight from Heathrow, park yourself (at least for starters) in whichever neighborhood will provide you with the most support.  If you're here to hang out with friends, find a place in their area.  If you're here to study, stay near your university.  If you're here on business, try to be close to the office.  That way, if anything goes wrong, you have a network of people who know you nearby who can help.

- Trust your instincts.  If you arrive at a place that you've arranged to rent but it doesn't feel right, go with your gut.  It might be in a dodgy area or the air inside might smell of gas or the landlord/agent might make you uncomfortable - please, trust your instincts.  Even if you've already put down a deposit, nothing is more important than your safety.  If you're in a situation that feels sour, call for help and/or get the heck out of dodge.  (Being in an unfamiliar place makes this even more crucial!)

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And now... the scenarios!

1. You're coming to London for a holiday and will be here for a week or less: check out some of the higher-end and newer hostels, like the YHA opposite the British Library, which was totally overhauled a  few years ago and offers beds in shared single-sex rooms for £25.15/night, or Palmers Lodge in Swiss Cottage, which is housed in a Victorian mansion in a lovely residential area and offers a double-bed private room with ensuite from £32/night.  As you probably know, hostels are a great way to meet new people and be introduced to new experiences - plus they're cheap!

2.  You're visiting London for business or study for a few weeks and can't afford a place to yourself but don't want to be sharing a flat with wild and crazy kids: did you know that airbnb does sublets?  I've never actually used the site myself but I've heard rave reviews from friends and I researched it pretty thoroughly before going to Berlin; it's supposed to be fantastic.  It looks like they have very welcoming rooms in well-maintained flats and houses for under $2000/month - which is really not bad in London considering all bills are included in the price!

3. You're moving to London but want to check out the town and get a feel for things before committing to a flat and/or a neighborhood: search though Gumtree, which is Britain's answer to Craigslist but slightly less skeevy.  Rental agencies do often offer short-term lets for up to six months, but they usually charge more for leasing a property for less than six months than they would for a longer rental period, so it's worth going through private landlords, many of whom advertise on Gumtree.  Of course, you have to watch out for scams, but I found my current studio on the site and it's been fab.

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I do hope this helps those of you who are considering a trip or a move to London!  If you have any other suggestions - dear readers, this is participatory, you know - or further questions, please leave comments and we'll see what comes out of it all.

Happy traveling!

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Weekend in Numbers

Okay, I'm totally stealing this concept from BP, but - hey, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right?

Here was my weekend in numbers, with a little imagery thrown in for fun.

10. The number of photographs I decided were acceptable for public consumption that Jon took of me (out of the 100 that I forced him to take) while walking around the Royal Naval College in Greenwich.

this is not one of the ten

9. The number of photographs that Jon allowed me to take of him - total - while walking around the Royal Naval Cottage in Greenwich.

8. The number of times I told the same Rick Perry joke in five minutes before being asked to shut up.  (What is Rick Perry's favorite band?  Earth, Wind, and... uh... oops.)

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7. The number of pieces of bacon I ate with brunch on Saturday.  Dear readers, I found Oscar Mayer bacon at Sainsbury's!  That yellow packet has never looked so good.

6. The number of times I exclaimed to Jon while walking around the National Maritime Museum, "Hey, this stuff is actually interesting!"  (My favorite exhibit was the one on trade with Asia, focusing on the East India Company.)

5. The number of times I picked up and then put back on the shelf the same jar of Nutella at the supermarket.  Yes, I bought it in the end, but I've taken it to Jon's flat because I just don't trust myself.

4. The number of times the children I was babysitting told me that I wasn't reading Harry Potter aloud to them properly because of my accent.

3. The number of times Jon told me that my vote didn't mean anything after we watched The Ides of March - this number would have been higher except that I cried and so he felt guilty for ruining my dreams.

2. The number of speeches at my friend James' birthday party on Friday night.

with the birthday boy

1. The number of weeks until Jon and I go to the States for Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving 2010 chez mes parents

I hope you all had a wonderful weekend, too!

Monday Laugh

David Attenborough is one of the UK's national treasures. A broadcaster and naturalist, he has been the face and voice of natural history programs on the BBC for 50 years; his documentaries are absolutely fascinating.  Although I quickly realized while watching The Blue Planet that you shouldn't get too attached to the baby animals you see on screen because they're probably going to die shortly - Attenborough is big on Tennyson's "nature red in tooth and claw" - I find myself totally engrossed in the science and mystery of life that he articulates.

The current Attenborough program being broadcast in the UK is called Frozen Planet, and it's all about the Earth's poles.  I love this clip: it's the naughty corner for you!

I want one.  Or two.  Or a baby seal.  Want.

Remembrance Sunday

In America, both World War I and World War II are commemorated, but I think that most of us who grew up in the United States do not have quite as visceral an appreciation of these two horrors as those who grew up in Europe.  I imagine that this is because the wars were, quite literally, closer to home for Europeans; the only time that America was attacked on its own soil in either conflict was at Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941.

We learned about the world wars at school, of course, and I remember sobbing in English class in high school as we read All Quiet on the Western Front, but my first understanding of the Great War came from Rilla of Ingleside, LM Montgomery's final book in the Anne of Green Gables series.  In the novel, all three of Anne's sons enlist, even Walter, her romantic and sensitive middle son.  While at the front, Walter writes a poem that, when published, echoes internationally:


The poem was a short, poignant little thing. In a month it had carried Walter's name to every corner of the globe. Everywhere it was copied-- in metropolitan dailies and little village weeklies--in profound reviews and "agony columns," in Red Cross appeals and Government recruiting propaganda. Mothers and sisters wept over it, young lads thrilled to it, the whole great heart of humanity caught it up as an epitome of all the pain and hope and pity and purpose of the mighty conflict, crystallized in three brief immortal verses. A Canadian lad in the Flanders trenches had written the one great poem of the war. "The Piper," by Pte. Walter Blythe, was a classic from its first printing.

It is assumed that this poem was fictionally written in homage to John McCrae's In Flanders Fields, one of the best-known poems of WWI.  A Canadian military doctor and artillery commander, Major McCrae drafted this piece on the battlefield, and it is recited every year in memory of all those who have given their lives to secure the safety of our own.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved, and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

To those who sacrifice all that they hold dear in order to guarrantee a more peaceful and just world: thank you.

Pre-Christmas Anticipation

Okay, guys, I was really trying to hold off on posting about Christmas - with the exception of this post from 4 October - until Thanksgiving was over, but I'm going to have to jump in to the spirit of things.  Lauren over at Aspiring Kennedy points out that she is living in London and so even though she's American she is exempt from the I-will-not-acknowledge-Christmas-until-Thanksgiving-is-over rule.  I guess I'll have to follow her lead... sigh.

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Actually, because Jon and I are heading back to the States for Thanksgiving, I started shopping for holiday presents several weeks ago so that we can bring them home, wrapped and ready.  (There's nothing quite so heartwarming as watching loved ones open the gifts you've selected especially for them!)  Plus, you know, the West End has been lit up for weeks now to celebrate the festive time, and the department store windows have all been transformed into winter wonderlands.

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But really, the thing that set me over the edge of reason into the Christmas season - oh, hey, a rhyme! - was hearing an interview with Michael Bublé on BBC Breakfast to promote his new Christmas album.  I can't even... there are no words.  I think I need to take a trip over to iTunes to buy myself a little pre-Christmas present.  I promise I won't start listening to the album until 25 November, but this is definitely necessary.  Don't you think?

Frock Fridays

[Note: today is Armistice Day in Europe and Veterans' Day in the States, and throughout the weekend we in the UK will be commemorating those who have died in war.  Jon has agreed to write a guest post about Remembrance Sunday, so look out for that on the 13th.)


It was just this time last year that I confessed my love of country music to you, dear readers.  I haven't really been able to keep up with the new tunes on the airwaves - reason #36 that I'm excited to go home next week for Thanksgiving: WMZQ - but I've had my choice singers on heavy rotation on iTunes recently, which has made me feel at least a little in the loop still.  Happily, though, I've gotten my fix of country fashion as the Country Music Awards were aired earlier this week back in the States.  (You can read a very funny English take on the CMAs here.)  Of course, these sorts of things always have lots of... well, let's call it fashion flair.  Tons o' stars were wearing sequins and glitter - Taylor Swift, sparkling?  Say it ain't so! - but my absolute favorite frock of the evening was worn by Hillary Scott of Lady Antebellum, who won Vocal Group of the Year at the ceremony:

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Believe it or not, this is an understated frock for the CMAs - I love the simple old Hollywood glamour.  Maybe I could find this to wear for NYE...

Kitchen Storage

Your lot buys furniture.  My lot inherits it.

-Lady Mary Crawley, Downton Abbey

I'm very lucky to have a great relationship with my landlords.  As you know, we have some combined space; my kitchen is also their laundry room, so we run into each other regularly.  Plus, I babysit for the kids a few times a month, and we occasionally have an evening drink together.  It's really a lovely set-up.

the pumpkin that I carved with Alfie, aged 5, over Halloween weekend

Because the shared room was converted to a kitchen - with the fridge and oven installed for my arrival, though there was already a sink next to the washer. - we've had to do some creative tweaking over the past few months to make it truly cooking-friendly.  I've added a trolly for storage, for instance, and I've been hanging my pots on coat-hooks.  The biggest adjustment, though, is that we recently had an extractor installed over the stove.  (I would just open the front door when cooking recipes that were overwhelmingly fragrant, but that isn't really be an option anymore as it's gotten colder.)

I'm thrilled with this development, but it means that we've lost the use of a wall for storage.  I'm not sure how involved I'll be able to be in coming up with new options - the landlords have acknowledged that something does need to be done, but they might make an executive decision as it's their house - but I'm having fun researching the possibilities!  I'm especially a fan of open shelving, even though I am down a wall...

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(Side note: when Jon and I went to Ikea last weekend to replace bathroom things that were destroyed in the Great Halloween Spew, he pointed out a display as an "aspirational kitchen."  I love that he looks at showrooms that way!  Clearly I got a good man, don't you think?)

Theatre Trip: Hamlet

As a condition of my job, I have to see a lot of theatre - it's good to stay current in the field, you know.  Luckily, both my professional and my personal connections grant me entry (although only occasionally for free) to some of the hottest tickets in town.  Case in point: last night I went to see Michael Sheen as the title character in Shakespeare's Hamlet at the Young Vic.

There were a few technical glitches at the beginning of the production which meant that we got three minutes in, stopped, and ended up restarting 45 minutes after the curtain was supposed to go up.  The play is just over three hours long, which meant that it didn't end till 11:30 - but it was so worth it.

Aside from being cast as Polonius in a school production when I was nine, I've never actually seen Hamlet on stage ever.  I've read it a million times, of course, during my studies, but watching it unfold before you is a completely different experience, and the production at the Young Vic was immersive in sometimes very frightening ways.

I won't give away any of the secrets of Ian Rickson's direction - you can read the official reviews for that - but I will say that his vision and Sheen's mesmerizing performance added a new dimension of insanity to the madness in the play and touched startlingly close to the chaos that dwells just beneath the surface of all of us.

Running through 21 January, Hamlet is technically sold out, but I would absolutely recommend that you queue up for returns if you can - it's an incredible production.

Monday Laugh

Europe's shaken up because Greece might bring down the euro and the EU with it.  America's aflutter because Kim Kardashian filed for divorce after having been married for 72 days.  (Interestingly, neither has heard of the other.)  However, Andy Borowitz thinks that maybe things can be resolved...

 

Remember, Remember...

Remember remember the 5th of November:

The gunpowder treason and plot.

I see of no reason the gunpowder treason

Should ever be forgot.

As was somewhat immortalized by the 2006 film V for Vendetta for those of us who weren't otherwise aware, 5 November is commemorated in England as Guy Fawkes' Night.

On 5 November 1605, a plot was hatched by a group of English Catholics to blow up Parliament and thereby assassinate King James I.  Guy Fawkes was caught guarding the store of gunpowder intended for this treason, and was arrested and executed.  Since then, this date has annually been celebrated with bonfires and fireworks in thanksgiving of the plot's failure.

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Interestingly, the idea of Guy Fawkes has, in recent months, been appropriated by the Occupy movement, which seems to identify with his supposed anti-establishement ideals.  (In fact, the Gunpowder Plot was not even close to anarchist; the aim was to replace the Protestant king with a Catholic king.)  The Guy Fawkes mask, made famous in V for Vendetta, has been seen at protests from Oakland to Hong Kong, and CNN reports that it "has become the talisman of a new generation of activists as an unprecedented wave of disgust and anger with establishment figures has swept the world."

 a protester at #OLSX on 3 November 2011 via CNN

Regardless of why you remember Guy Fawkes, though, opportunities abound to celebrate the fifth of November in style in London.  Time Out has a list of firework displays all over town - I'll be checking them out at Battersea Park.  I don't know if anyone actually still burns effigies, but Jon assures me that there are plenty of bonfires out in the countryside, and I'm sure that pubs up and down the country will be packed.  (Oh, good, just what we want: fire and alcohol, the best combination.)

How will you be spending this autumnal weekend, dear readers?  Have a good one, whatever your plans may be!