A New Tradition I Wholeheartedly Endorse

In the last month, I’ve met up with friends traveling through London–Leila, one of my keep-moving-or-die kindred spirits, and Karl, who was touring with his band from Iceland, Arstidir. They both surprised me with chocolate from places they’ve visited. This is a new tradition I wholeheartedly endorse. Come visit me in London and bring me your local chocolates as offerings. I am a benevolent queen and shall accept them with grace.

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Estonian milk chocolate on top, Icelandic milk chocolate with hazelnuts on bottom.

They were delicious.

The Machines Are Already Rising Up

Or at least they’re confounding me. I have most of a post on Battle/Hastings written, but getting the photos is proving more difficult than I’d thought, since my phone doesn’t want to give them up, and my computer insists it has no storage available anyway, and my blog uploader won’t take more than one and none of the edited versions, and… I realize this is mostly an issue of user error and outdated technology, but it does feel a little like the machines are conspiring to keep me from getting what I want in this area. Sneaky machines.

Anyway, more posts to come soon, I hope!

 

Poldark: A Drinking Game for the BBC Show

BBC is returning to the well with its latest miniseries Poldark; they already made a TV series out of Winston Graham’s novels back in the ’70s, and now it’s being updated for a new generation. Which basically means more shirtlessness from the titular hero. I’m watching the series with my friend and flatmate Liz, and after the first episode we agreed that it’s not really good enough to love wholeheartedly. But if you make it a drinking game, it is utterly delightful. It’s just about finished its run in the UK but is still available online, and it’s going to be broadcast in the US in June. So you still have time to enjoy your own Poldark Imbibe & Jibe experience.

The main thing to keep in mind is that this miniseries is primarily a love letter to the Cornwall countryside, and to Aidan Turner’s smoldering good looks. Lingering shots of both the landscape and Turner’s impressive eyebrows make up a significant percentage of the show. This is not a bad thing.

Dramatic landscape and even more dramatic eyebrows. Image.

A quick synopsis: Ross Poldark (played by Turner) returns to Cornwall in southwestern England after fighting for the redcoats in the American Revolutionary War. He was only fighting because it was either that or prison after bad gambling debts–this is the kind of ne’er-do-well our hero used to be, and who everyone back home remembers. But he’s grown up a bit since losing a war and he’s ready to return home and get to work.

Surprise! His father’s dead and the small estate he owns has fallen into ruin, including the copper mine that used to be how they made money. Everyone thought he was dead, so the love of his life (Elizabeth) is engaged to his cousin (Francis). Things are not looking good for ol’ Ross.

Now that you have the basic premise, here are the rules to the game:

Commuter cliffs: Ross does a lot of galloping along the cliff edge on his horse, to and from his home. We see shots of this more often than strictly necessary for continuity or comprehension of the passage of time, so we must conclude the director figured a few more shots of stunning Cornish countryside wouldn’t do any harm. He’s not wrong. When you see Ross racing along the cliff edge on his horse, yell “commuter!”, drink, and then make clopping noises with your hands until the scene’s over.

Mines: Mining was the major moneymaker in Cornwall for a while, but it was drying up in the late 18th century. Ross takes a big gamble on reopening his father’s copper mine, and mining talk makes up a good portion of the dialogue of the show. Any time someone says “mine” or “mining,” yell “mine!” and take a drink.

Repression: One of the problems with taking this show seriously is that there’s very little chemistry between the actors playing Ross and Elizabeth, our star-crossed lovers. Ross is largely motivated by his desire to remain close to Elizabeth, even if he can’t marry her, and we’re meant to see her torment at having to marry another man because her love returned to her too late. But all they do is stare at each other with slightly pained expressions on their faces. It is unconvincing. Still, they do enough pained expression staring to give us a sense that there are repressed! feelings! going on, so when you sense repression bubbling underneath the surface, yell “stop repressing!” and take a drink. You also get to do this when you notice repression in other situations, like when Francis’s excellent but mistreated sister Verity gets her own bittersweet taste of romance or when Ross’s kitchenmaid Demelza looks adoringly at her employer.

Flashbacks: There aren’t many flashbacks after the first couple episodes, but it’s worth having this category for those few times, because you take a drink and yell “flashback!” then do the wiggly hands and noises they do on Wayne’s World.

Frog man: Francis and Verity’s father is an unpleasant old man who tries various ways to get Ross out of the picture and his own son into top position in the region. He also looks a little like a frog, with protruding eyes and a wide mouth. So whenever he arrives on the scene, do your best “ribbit!” frog impression and take a drink. Don’t do this for the duration of the scene or you will pass out.

Cornish specialty: There are several things specific to Cornwall, or things that we think might be, so any time you see something Cornish, yell “that’s Cornish!” and take a drink. This may include unintelligible accents, a certain kind of wedding dance, or a particular costume. We keep waiting for Cornish pasties to be shown, but sadly haven’t seen one yet. (There was a pie once and we debated whether it was small enough to be a pasty. These are the kind of important intellectual discussions you’ll get into while watching Poldark.)

Soulful cliff stare: Another opportunity to appreciate how gorgeous the landscape is, and also to FEEL your FEELINGS. Any time one of the characters stands at the cliff’s edge and stares out to the far horizon, as the waves of the Atlantic lap upon the shore, yell “that’s soulful!” and take a drink.

Layabout servants: Easily one of our favorite criteria, and the most reliable. Ross’s father had two old servants who prove to be utterly useless, but out of a misguided sense of loyalty and protectionism, Ross keeps them on. Even though they do freakin’ NOTHING. Almost every time a scene opens in the Poldark house, those two are sitting on their butts, or having a quickie in the corner, or drinking their boss’s rum. The one thing you can be sure they’re not doing is working. So when you see them, yell (incredulously and gleefully) “get to work!” and take a drink.

There you have it. Provided you’re just making your way through a glass of wine or beer, you won’t be wasted, but you will be a little tipsy by the end of an episode. What’s more, the often stilted writing and barely fleshed-out characters won’t bother you. That’s how you do the Poldark Imbibe & Jibe. Enjoy!

A Taxing Time of Year

Tax season is upon us: a full quarter of my inbox is made up of emails about tax forms and official documents. Yeesh.

The real let-down after the Christmas season isn’t the returns of early January or the quickly abandoned New Year’s resolutions–it’s the January 31st deadline for receiving your tax documents from your employer, which just reminds you that you have two and a half months to put off doing your taxes until it’s April 14 and you’re pleading with the TurboTax website to unfreeze and process your damn forms and oh no, you forgot about the state form.

Today’s Groundhog Day, but really, it doesn’t matter whether the furry creature sees its shadow or not. We all know it’s endless winter until the taxes are filed and the rebate check is in the mail. And if your days of being over-taxed are gone, and you’re finally paying about what you owe, then there’s no celebration, just the sigh of relief that it’s over for another year. I have yet to make enough money from freelancing to owe tax as a self-employed person, but I hope to make this a viable career option, which means I’ll have to start setting aside money quarterly so I don’t get hit with a giant bill come April 15. Please don’t let this be the year I write the government a check.

And this year, I get to do taxes in two countries. Livin’ the life!

Happy New Year 2015

Happy New Year! Here’s to a year more just and kind than the last. May the fight against systemic injustice grow stronger, and may those who try to uphold those systems change their minds and their ways.

For 2015, I’ve got another list of New Year’s Celebrations to look forward to:

  • Go to several of the museums in my new city
  • Spend an entire day reading
  • Explore a part of Britain I’ve never been to before
  • Bake a pie
  • Find a real ale I can really enjoy (Britons are obsessed with it and I’m getting used to it)
  • Pick an event at random from one of the weekend guides and go to something I’d likely not have considered otherwise

How about you? Any non-resolutions this year?

Comic from the ever-wonderful Dinosaur Comics by Ryan North.

London at Christmastime

My love of the holiday season is no secret. I was fortunate to have happy Christmases in my childhood, full of family love and fun traditions. (I know that’s not true for everyone, so I feel especially grateful that this is my experience.) This year, I’m spending the holiday in England, and the lead-up here in London has been wonderful, as I’ve done lots of Christmas-y things.

Winter Wonderland

Winter Wonderland

Winter Wonderland

Winter Wonderland is one of those terrible/wonderful things, a giant carnival in Hyde Park. Liz and I went there a couple weekends ago, and we stayed for the perfect amount of time: long enough to see all the attractions, not long enough to get crushed by the crowds.

Fun fair

Fun fair

london christmas

We walked through the fun fair and the crafts market, past the ice rink and the inexplicable haunted house. We had brats and mulled wine, and we listened to a live band speed through a Stevie Wonder medley. All the rides had been done up seasonally, and there was one particularly creepy animatronic Santa who laughed maniacally at the passersby.

Clearly a repurposed animatronic 'come on the ride' caller, but he made for a really creepy Santa

Clearly a repurposed animatronic ‘come on the ride’ caller, but he made for a really creepy Santa

The market part of Winter Wonderland

The market part of Winter Wonderland

Mulled wine with Liz

Mulled wine with Liz

Winter Wonderland 'giant wheel' -- not sure why they don't call them Ferris wheels over here

Winter Wonderland ‘giant wheel’ — not sure why they don’t call them Ferris wheels over here

Oxford Street lights

Oxford Street lights

Lights and Windows on Oxford Street

After we had our mulled wine and share of crowds, we wandered down Oxford Street to admire the lights. Oxford Street is a major shopping district in London, and every year they string lights across the street, and across the side streets, so it’s delightfully lit up everywhere you look as you do your late-night shopping (or any shopping after 3:50, when the sun sets).

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One of the brightly lit side streets

One of the brightly lit side streets

london christmas

We admired the windows at Selfridges, dreamy and colorful, and had an unsuccessful hunt inside for egg nog (they had some unrefrigerated thing that I looked askance at).

Fancy indoors at Selfridges

Fancy indoors at Selfridges

Fancy outside at Selfridges

Fancy outside at Selfridges

Forty Hall by Candlelight

This past weekend, I went up to Forty Hall, a stately home on the very north end of London. My friend Dave directed a group of volunteers in a sort of tour/mobile theater event, so we walked from room to room in this wonderfully restored home and heard stories about the house in 1643, during the English Civil War. It was an interesting mix of tidbits about daily life at the house, and some of the ways the war affected households. We ate mince pies and drank hot spiced cider, and we each walked out with a sprig of rosemary–my favorite herb, and apparently a traditional favor in the 17th century during Christmastime. It’s meant to flower on Christmas Eve, thus the tradition.

Forty Hall

Forty Hall

Craft fair in the park

Craft fair in the park

Neighborhood Christmas market 

The neighborhood park had a Christmas market this Sunday, and although I didn’t buy anything, I enjoyed looking at all the crafts for sale, including those made by my talented friend Natti. More mulled wine and minced pie (notice a theme to celebrations here?) while a brass quartet played at the edges of the gathering and adorable children ran around. And then my favorite part, the carol singing. A small brass and woodwind band decked out in Santa hats got up in the bandstand and led us all in carols.

Mulled wine and mince pies ALL THE TIME PLEASE

Mulled wine and mince pies ALL THE TIME PLEASE

Nat's wonderful wares for sale

Nat’s wonderful wares for sale

Carols with a brass band

Carols with a brass band

The Royal Albert Hall

The Royal Albert Hall

Handel’s Messiah at the Royal Albert Hall

Finally, on Sunday I went to the Royal Albert Hall for a performance of Handel’s Messiah. This is one of my favorite choral works. I’ve sung it in a choir in Michigan, seen it done in a gospel style in Chicago, and now seen it sung by hundreds of people in London. The Hall is a beautiful setting, and even though my seats were “semi-restricted viewing,” I saw most of the choir and orchestra, and anyway the main thing is to hear it. It was a glorious performance: the choir was great, the trumpet for ‘The Trumpet Will Sound’ was perfect, and three out of four soloists were wonderful (the bass sounded like he was gargling marbles, but I find that to often be a problem with basses). I walked back to the bus stop with the sounds of joy and celebration ringing in my ears. I wouldn’t mind ending more weekends like that.

Hundreds of singers for Handel's Messiah

Hundreds of singers for Handel’s Messiah

Beautiful interior of Royal Albert Hall

Beautiful interior of Royal Albert Hall

Happy holidays!

Happy holidays!

A Surprisingly Halloween-y Weekend in London

Halloween as a dress-up, trick-or-treat party is a tradition based in the United States. There are many other traditions around this time of year focusing on spirits, the end of one year and the start of another, the change of the seasons, etc. (Day of the Dead comes to mind), but putting on a costume and eating sugar til you pass out is an American thing. So I was pleasantly surprised to find that England is succumbing to the pervasive influence of American culture in this respect. My friend Liz, a North American living in London for the past six years, says she’s seen more Halloween celebrating going on this year than any other. (Sorry for the blurry quality of some of the photos, but that’s nighttime iPhone photography for ya.)

Pumpkins on display at King's Cross

Pumpkins on display at King’s Cross

Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na...

Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na…

One massive display of holiday spirit manifested in the 3,000 pumpkins appearing for one night only at King’s Cross Canalside Steps. This little pedestrian-friendly corner of the north central King’s Cross neighborhood abuts Regents Canal, and a couple houseboats bob nearby. Nonprofit organization Global Generation and city groups partnered up to host the event. Anyone could come carve a pumpkin on October 30 and 31, they were displayed on the evening of the 31st, and the next day, anyone could stop by to pick up a pumpkin and a recipe card. Leftover pumpkins were distributed to food pantries, and Global Generation will oversee composting of the remains. Gotta love a fun event that’s also a well-thought-out sustainability model.

Just about shows the scope of the pumpkin display

Just about shows the scope of the pumpkin display

Spooky spider

Spooky spider

The pumpkins were gorgeous. Not all of them were carved, but just seeing that massive amount of gourds was impressive, and they’d cleverly put enough lights in and around the pumpkins that they were well-lit for photos when I stopped by at 9pm. A couple security guards lounged on chairs at the top of the steps, but no one was there to wreak havoc. We were too busy spotting our favorites in the crowd–oh there’s Jack Skellington from Nightmare Before Christmas, there’s the symbol for woman, ooh look at that scary spider, are those penguins in love? This was Halloween made (pumpkin) flesh.

Movie spooks

Movie spooks

Getting gutsy

Getting gutsy

halloween london halloween london

Figures that London was getting fully in the swing of Halloween in a year I was too stressed to make myself a costume! (The past couple weeks have been tough because I’ve needed to find a new home but had no luck until a room unexpectedly opened up at Liz’s, so I’ll be subletting there for a few months, thank goodness.) But housing stability aside, the main point is that October 31 arrived and I had nothing to wear. Still, the advantage of being in a country that’s only just discovering the joys of Halloween is that they aren’t as quick to judge you if you show up in your civvies as they are at home.

Witchy bus

Witchy bus

I joined my friend Duane at his local (I love that that’s what they call the closest pub to your home here, the one you frequent because it’s nearby–not “the local pub,” just “the local”). I had a few beers with Duane and friends, while a group of guys played traditional Irish music in the next room and the football played on the telly. Basically, it was everything I want in an English pub and even though it’s far from my home in Brixton, I’m tempted to make it my local, too.

Day of the Dead inspired (incidentally, at least half the women I saw on public transport on October 31 had Dia de los Muertos makeup on--definitely the most popular costume choice)

Day of the Dead inspired (incidentally, at least half the women I saw on public transport on October 31 had Dia de los Muertos makeup on–definitely the most popular costume choice)

On Saturday night, Liz and I met up with a little group of friends for delicious Indian food on Brick Lane, and then we walked up the road to Rich Mix, an arts space/movie theater/performance spot. Tim Ralphs (who you may remember I mentioned in my post on the Fringe Fest in Edinburgh) was performing with the Crick Crack Club, a group devoted to exploring storytelling traditions around the world. Tim shared the stage with TUUP and Clare Muireann Murphy, and they were all fantastic. Among the three of them, they shared stories from Viking, Irish, African, and early Christian traditions. The stories all featured death as a main player, but while they went to some dark places, they mostly ended back in a place of joy, because this night was about appreciating the role death plays in life, and how people the world over have recognized that.

Dia de los Muertos with the Crick Crack Club

Dia de los Muertos with the Crick Crack Club

This was a Dia de los Muertos event, so the stage was decorated in the skeletons, colorful flowers, and altarpieces of Mexican Day of the Dead celebrations. Several times, the storytellers reminded us that the dead are only really gone if they’re forgotten, so it is up to us, the living, to remember them. Audience members were invited to write the names of dear departed ones on slips of paper and leave them in a bowl in front of the altar. At the end of the night, the bowl of names was carried out along a path of marigold petals, to the music of a guitar and drum, as the storytellers showed the spirits the way to walk if they wanted to rejoin us on this night of a thin veil between dead and living.

Storytellers played to a sold-out crowd

Storytellers played to a sold-out crowd

For a place that doesn’t really celebrate Halloween, London sure gave me a good impression of the ghoulish holiday this weekend.

halloween london