Three Sixty Six

06.30 SENTIMENTAL X'S

2010-06-30T15:37:00.005-04:00

I'll try not to drown you in sentiment, in reminiscence or otherwise in too many words. But today marks the end of this project, the "photoblog" I launched three years ago as both 1) an an exercise in writing, as I was set to move to the UK to study journalism, and 2) a means of keeping you up to date on my adventures here.

The adventures soon transformed into the banalities of everyday life, and I hope that I've managed at least to keep the ordinary days interesting and to draw in some of the remarkable people and places I've encountered. But the lesson I learnt in my first attempt at photo journaling was that, indeed, it is often the most ordinary things that are worth capturing.

I called the blog 'Three-Sixty-Six' because it was intended to span the year from 1 July 2007 through to 30 June 2008, which encompassed the leap year on Feb 29 2008; however, I managed in the course to create a 'leap year' of a new form by first breaking my camera in early 2008 and then falling off the wagon in 2009 with too much on my plate to keep up the blog. In both instances, picking up where I had left off one year later. As a result, the blog spans 1) from my last summer in Canada, through my first semester at Nottingham Trent Uni, 2) then leaps to my working life in London a year later covering about two months to my visit to the countryside in Devon, and finally 3) leaps a second time to this spring and summer culminating today.

Appropriately, today's blog brings things full circle. Broken Social Scene, famed Torontonian indie band and mini orchestra on stage, are performing in the UK. I got tix along with a handful of friends, coincidentally a largely Canadian posse representing Vancouver, Montreal, Toronto and, of course, Windsor. In considering my company this evening, and the friends I have met here in the UK, the places I've travelled and lessons learned, I begin to find some understand the BSS debut album title, and one of my all time favourites, Feels Good Lost.

Over and out.
XX (those are hugs, not kisses, mind you, and sentimental nonetheless)

06.29 REFLECTION

2010-06-29T15:35:00.002-04:00

The penultimate session in oil paints, and I actually feel like I've gained some skill and confidence in the art. The challenge today was not the lemon, or the garlic - no, I mastered that weeks ago! Instead, it is in the reflection in the silver bottle that stands tall behind the produce.

It's one of those that you need to stand (a barely perceptible distance) back from to appreciate, but that is hopefully good enough to ornament my parents kitchen or dining room wall one day.

Not only is this the second-to-last session in, but this is also the penultimate photo in this journal, which leaves me to reflect on more than just the reflection on the canvas.

06.28 FLAT HUNT

2010-06-28T15:33:00.003-04:00

Three summers ago, when I was looking to move to the UK to study, Maddy replied to an email in which I had inquired about a room in a shared property in Nottingham. She was candid in her reply and mentioned that she preferred flat shoes to heels and a cocktail at a jazz bar to a rockin' night out. As it happens, she does on occasion where heels and can party like a rock star, but my guess (with Casey's corroboration) at the time was correct: that we'd get on like a house on fire (NB: that's not a reference to the time I forgot the boiling egg on the stove and nearly burnt down our pad on Premier Road).

Three years on, we're living together and looking to find a flat for the two of us, as our current threesome is sadly breaking up. What we have learnt after a few days of flat hunting is that the market is a mess for people like us, looking to rent. Changes to the Capital Gains Tax instilled by the new Conservative-LibDem coalition has prompted owners to sell and a proportion of the property that would otherwise be available for rent is now on for purchase. Lots of people flat hunting and not enough flats to let means prices are jacked and turnaround is swift - in one case from my experience, gone within one hour.

And this is why today we were shuttled around town by various agents to flats, apartments, estates and even developments like this one - the foundation barely laid. Here's hoping we find something, and find something we love. A place where two flat-shoed, cocktail sipping, kitchen-bound busybodies plus one hamster can call home for a while.

06.27 KNOCKOUT

2010-06-27T17:56:00.003-04:00

Spot of shopping in the city, the intention being that most would be hitting the parks, the BBQs and watching England's knockout game against Germany at prime time, leaving the stores vacant but for a few indefferent female shopaholics.

That said, I don't actually fall into that demographic, which I would imagine mainly comprises women under 19. At heart, I was curious about the game, not just the outcome, but the action. While I did indeed get to the shops, I took an intermission to nip into a pub (albeit a touristy one) off of Oxford Circus to watch amidst a mixed crowd of foreigners and locals, with a half-pint in hand.

I was happy to lurk in the backdrop as England got smoked by their opponents, favoured to win just the same. In the end, the crowd shuffled out, heads hanging, while I enthusiastically resumed my tour of the mid-season sales.

06.26 THE OTHER WINDSOR

2010-06-26T17:53:00.002-04:00

I felt a bit like a tourist today. Cycled to Windsor - the other Windsor - with the club. Covering over 60 km and holding 28-32 clicks most of the way, I was knackered once we reached the shop for a pick-me-up ice cream and cuppa in the middle of the Royal Park.

There was a funny sentiment about being in a place which my hometown is named after. I though of my home, off of Queen Elizabeth Road, which intersects with another street called Lloyd George (who I thought was a rock star, until I was at least 9 years old).

The Royal Park was huge, with shaded, hilly paves, a 5000 acre deer park and a wide-open space for Polo, where a few joggers were doing laps. We passed the equestrian statue of George III, overlooking Windsor Castle - beautiful view although it was difficult to take in as we were whizzing past at a quick pace.

After cake, most of the crew cycled on another 30 k to Clapham, and a few of us went into town to catch a train back, where I got a close-up view of the castle and a feel for the quaint touristy Windsor that in no way resembles my home town, apart from the namesake.

06.25 ART IN THE PARK

2010-06-25T17:50:00.002-04:00

Walking into work, and I spot an woman with easel and a palette in hand. She is painting the fountain and foliage on Clapham Common. Her work is patient, relaxing to watch even. A moment's respite before I carry on my hustle to the tube and into work.

It reminds me of Art in the Park, the annual festival of crafts and creative works at Willistead Manor in Windsor. Casey and I were enthusiasts and loved to spin ideas off of the work we saw there, thinking 'I could make that''. But, then, I rarely put my word to the test.

That said, my recent endeavours in oil painting could sell for a few bucks at a stand...? Well, maybe a family member or friend would make a purchase, like the occasion over 20 years ago, when I spent an entire afternoon trying to sell painted rocks in my front yard, and made 5 sympathy cents off of Elvio, who lived across the street. All in the eye of the beholder.

06.24 BACKYARD

2010-06-24T16:50:00.002-04:00

Nearly forgot a photo today. Had a quiet one in, pensive. The 24th and, in hindsight, that's probably why. Spoke with my parents on the phone, who were bimbling in the garden as usual. Inspired me to take in the vista that is my backyard too, albeit not as green and invigorating as my parents. Instead, our terrace overlooks a schoolyard, which, thankfully, has quieted for the summer. I'm rarely home in the week, and when I have been the incessant hollaring is a contraceptive in its own right. It's pleasant at times, but mostly just annoying. Tonight, peace. But somehow the quiet disturbs me. Just one of those days.

06.23 ENGLAND IN

2010-06-23T16:39:00.001-04:00

It's England's third game in the qualifying rounds of the World Cup, against Algeria. Conveniently, my company has hosted a staff barbecue. So my work day ended around 2 pm, soon after the Pimms was poured and the chicken skewers came off the grill. I've become a follower and fan of the football - not the most enthusiastic and passionate among them, since its more of an acquired and temporary interest in the sport. It's the atmosphere - its contagious. The kitchen and patio were packed and the office floors empty as everyone watched with eagerness, then angst, then celebration as England defeated their oponents and made it to the knockout rounds.

06.22 PLATEAU

2010-06-22T18:59:00.003-04:00

Just a few weeks of tuition to go, and I still can't figure out the jug. I've hit a plateau with this. Its always the jug or vase or bowl that throws me. Must be the transluscence. I need ceramic, not glass, maybe? This one was going quite well, and in the final minutes, I decided to add some depth with a few quick strokes in white to emphasize the shape of the bowl of the jug. It wasn't until I stepped back. Err. Well...the garlic looks alright.

06.21 CANOE

2010-06-21T18:57:00.001-04:00

This is what I call a canoe. Not a kayak - although the English get these confused. I love to paddle, and I ensured that we spend some time this weekend off our feet and on the water. So, we spent our last two hours in the Lake District on the longest lake in the country - Windermere. Paddling about, with the Cumbrian mountains in the backdrop, skimming the peripheries to enjoy the nuances of the shoreline. Dan up front while I happily took the back seat to practice my J and C strokes. Frequent breaks for biscuits and crisps, and just to take in the scene. So much fun, and one of the highlights of the weekend. It has been a perfect holiday.

06.20 STRIDING EDGE

2010-06-20T18:55:00.005-04:00

After a hearty breakfast of kippers and roast tomatoes, Dan and I set off to tackle the third highest peak in England, at 950 m - Helvellyn. With a vague map of the route in hand, we departed the lakeside town of Glenridding, beginning our climb, trying to discern one way from another by the vague instruction on our 80 p map from the tourist information centre that provided 'estimated walk duration' instead of distance travelled. Useless. We meandered our way to the first peak, which marked the beginning of our stretch along Striding Edge, the narrow toothy arete you see pictured - birds eye view as I perched alongside the drop from Helvellyn itself. We sat for lunch and considered Striding Edge once more, as there was an alternate route to Helvellyn via Swirrel Edge; but we could see people forging ahead along the arete and figured, hey, no problem. Indeed, it proved to be one of the toughest and frightening feats I've accomplished. Without a clear map of the Edge we relied on walkers ahead, some clearly more experienced, to determine the best route along. While Dan and I clambered carefully, trembling and clinging to every rock for our lives, regulars on the summit strolled passed casually as if there wasn't a several hundred foot drop below them. We reached a tipping point when I found myself scrambling down a vertical overhanging a drop and then descending in front of the final 200 m climb which looked as though it had suffered a recent avalanche. Seriously. At least the fallen rocks provided somewhat of a staircase, or at least plenty of options for grips and holds. In the end, we stuck nearer the grassy ledges, however, as they seemed more secure than the loose piles of rock. An orange strip of warning fence marked the top of the climb, - we made it, and were welcomed by a spectacular panorama of mountain tops, lakes and patches of forest under a mid afternoon haze - amazing - and a hungry sheep who tried to nip my raisins and peanuts! A few shots to prove we were there and a moment's rest to stop our knocking knees. Instead of descending via Swirell Edge we avoided another scramble and took Lower Helvellyn which probably added a good couple miles to the route - but we're endurance athletes after all and not rock climbers. (But we were today.)

06.19 JENGA

2010-06-19T18:53:00.002-04:00

Whiling some time at a local bar/pub before dinner at one of the four Lucy's joints in Ambleside.

Dan's first go at Jenga. I win first game. He decides we should go for best of three. Fair enough. But it's my disadvantage: I'm drinking 13% malbec whereas he's drinking some girly 4% elderflower cider. Our competitive streak surface. A bit of bending of the rules here and there. Nevertheless, we both have butterfingers tonight.

I don't actually remember losing but I don't think I won. Must have been the wine. Or the hunger. Or the really terrible pop music in the background.

06.18 ROAD TRIP

2010-06-18T18:46:00.007-04:00

Yes, that's rain on the driver-side window. But only just because we're in the Black Country (the heavily industrialised region of the West Midlands) We're en route to Ambleside, making a(nother) pitstop as I've fallen into a vicious cycle of coffee-loo-coffee-water-loo.

I'm the navigator, since I'm the passenger; but Dan put his serious face on to peg where we are and where we're going. Thankfully in this case, we have a map, and aren't relying on his vague scribblins on a piece of paper to figure where we're going, like our cycle to Brighton a few weeks back.

Indeed, so far the drive has been stress free, apart from a few traffic jams, and the usual London traffic (2 hours to get out of the city!). Thankfully, we were well stocked for a long journey after yesterday's shop and appeased our restlessness with wine gums, not to mention Dan's inexhaustive iPod playlist (although he did let me play a bit of my limited selection).

280 miles in 7.5 hours. At least the sun was out. And we made it in time for the football.

06.17 STOCKING UP

2010-06-17T13:13:00.000-04:00

You'd think we were driving across the country. Oh, wait, we practically are, only England is just a fraction of my native land and a cross-country drive is like a trip up the 401. Like from Windsor, say, to the Muskokas.

We're going to the Lake District, national parkland and home of the Cumbrian Mountains, for a weekend of ambling, rambling and paddling in the countryside.

But first things first and to be certain we get there stock full of energy for the weekend's walks we're stocking up on food for the drive up. Enough to feed a carload, but its just the two of us. We deliberate juice flavours for a few minutes, contemplate wasabi peas then pass, don't hesitate over wine gums, and land some Reggae Reggae nuts just because we're curious. We've soon overloaded the basket with (mostly) healthy snacks and some crap. Sorted.

06.16 MAXIMALIST

2010-06-16T19:03:00.000-04:00

I'd like to say I'm a minimalist. I can be, when I have to be. Like when I'm packing for air travel and am limited to 25 kg of shoes, shirts and toiletries, and shoes. Although I always tip the scale with that extra pair of knickers.

Given the luxury of travel by car, I let go of any inhibitions, dumping my contents into a weekender, a duffle bag a pack and two purses. Embarrassing, particularly as this is an outdoorsy adventurous expedition. I should be able to roll and squeeze everything I need into a 15 litre lightweight pack, right?

But the knickers. They just take up so much space.

06.15 GOLDEN RATIO

2010-06-15T18:15:00.002-04:00

The objective today was to identify and consider the 'Golden Ratio'. In maths and the arts, this refers the innately aesthetically pleasing divide of an object or image equating to approximately 1.6. We simultaneously attempted to reframe our view, closing in on the still life to draw in parts of objects and adding a dimension of abstractness (I'm a natural at this...) to the painting. Coupling the two tasks was difficult, and I'd already drawn the image by the time instruction was laid out; the end result, what you perhaps might call a 'Bronze' Ratio, portions of a pot and an apple, and an oversized melon smack in the centre of the foreground. Getting there.

06.14 QUIET TIME

2010-06-14T18:13:00.001-04:00

Busy week ahead at work. I'm taking holiday time on Friday and Monday which means scrambling to get work off my desk, while sacrificing lunch breaks and evening hours to keep my head above water. (Holiday? Is it really worth it?)

Took 10 to meander midmorning to the churchyard nearby the office. A quick breather before an extended session strapped to the desk, churning through paperwork, emails and meetings. Not a single person on the benches just yet, where often seating is 'grass' room only.

Might just make a habit of the breakfast break.

06.13 PRODUCTIVE IDLENESS

2010-06-13T18:11:00.002-04:00

I'm terrible at relaxing. To make matters worse, a few hours break to myself seems rare these days. When I do block of some time, I turn geekish and read; but I've grown restless and lately seem to fill my free time with chores, errands and tasks that seem 'productive'. I've managed to break down reading into a chapter-by-chapter objective which gives it a sense of productiveness. Productive idleness. Whatever works. I threw a blanket down on the common, then threw myself on the blanket with a coffee and my book and met my quota of non-fiction done for the day. Would have read the paper, but front pages were splattered with accounts of last night's England-US game, and I've certainly met my quota of football for the weekend.

06.12 SOCCERBALL

2010-06-12T18:00:00.001-04:00

What exactly do you call the game when the US are playing the UK? Certainly when the UK are playing terribly and the US are pulling their socks up, the game we call it is 'soccer'.

06.11 MAKE DUE

2010-06-11T12:31:00.001-04:00

It's nearly midnight. Clock strikes twelve and this project turns into a pumpkin. For lack of a more promising photo opportunity, and for lack of time, I make due with this photo of Dan, in the kitchen, piecing together brie and toast with tomatoes for a late-night snack after a few drinks a the pub in Old Town. Making due with whatever bits and pieces we could scrounge from my pantry.

It'll do.

06.10 BUSINESS LUNCH

2010-06-10T12:28:00.001-04:00

'Business' being a catch-up and the usual spot of gossip (instigated by my eager probing). My lunch date, alias 'Jags', works just over the bridge, and we decided to hook up for tapas, adventurously delving into a portion of lamb shanks and a helping of rabbit stew, while securing ourselves with a guaranteed pleaser (unless you're downwind of an exhaled belch) - the sizzling garlic prawns. (He doesn't like goats cheese. Bugger.)

Was a nice break in the day and good to see a running mate out of Clapham, out of spandex and out of context (either huffing it around Battersea or post run at the pub)...

06.09 ONE WEEK

2010-06-09T15:29:00.005-04:00

Post! (Mail!) It's always so exciting to receive! I was expecting a package from my sis, and was nevertheless surprised to find its contents, a film called One Week by director Michael McGowan (of Saint Ralph fame) and starring Joshua Jackson.

I introduced Clair to Saint Ralph (for once, a film I had seen that she hadn't!). She loved it and went on to watch the director's more recent work, promising it is 10x improved. I'm sure I'll love it, but admit I have a soft spot for the story of a boy who wants to win the Boston Marathon, filmed in my university town of Hamilton. Not to mention One Week is a rather dark plot, surely a thoughtful tearjerker, about a man with just that much time to live.

Am itching to see this, and go back and revisit Saint Ralph to appreciate the directors style and development. All I need is a rainy day...(surprisingly few and far between these days in London)

06.08 COLOUR COORDINATION

2010-06-08T15:25:00.002-04:00

Session seven. Last week was a midterm break and I feel I've already taken a few steps back in terms of technique. I approach the drawing with confidence, and get going with the colourful apple on the table in the foreground. Hints of ripening red blend into the pale yellow, and a hint of green around the stem. Not easy to master. Looks more like I've painted a pinwheel of colours.

The jug in the background I had nailed, but then decided to dabble just as the class was wrapping up, leaving me scrambling to sort it out at the last minute and resulting in what looks like a green-blue balloon with a rectangle jutting out the top end. I tried. We've done this jug before, or one that is similarly translucent and therefore difficult to blend, and it remains my nemesis.

06.07 PINE CONE

2010-06-07T14:03:00.002-04:00

It's not an acorn. Nope. It's a pine cone. I should know these things. A senior moment - or perhaps a sign I've been living in the city too long.

Maddy is diligent, careful, outlining the scales of the cone, rubbing in the shadows and blending in the shape. It's a handmade gift card, which I hope the recipient appreciates. Her medium is charcoal, a messy option, and her fingers are blackened by it.

I'm not sure why she chose the pine cone as her subject for the drawing. I don't know much about cones, so googled. Surprise - the cone is an organ and contains the reproductive structures of the pine - releasing seeds! (I'll be an expert on this in just a few more google searches). The female cone is the most distinguishable, and is often used to recognize species of trees. The one on our dining table must be a chick.

It's also just an attractive subject for a drawing I suppose.

06.06 CUPCAKES

2010-06-06T13:06:00.002-04:00

Day off (But for a half our interview prep for a magazine article I'm working on). With my 2010 New Year's resolution in mind (yes, I've lasted longer than 2 weeks, becoming an anomoly rather than a statistic...), I set out to grab a coffee and the Sunday paper. I wandered down Lavendar Hill until I hit a convenience shop (what do they call them here again...mental block. It'll come...*) that sold the paper (you'd think they'd all stock Sunday's...?). Reading material in hand (plus supplement celebrating 50 years of the pill. Power to women. Woo!), I set out for one of two new cafes in the neighbourhood, meandering past, then dipping into another new shop - a bakery and cakery - where I picked up a few cupcakes for the flatmates. Never been a fan, but in this case, I do wish I had bought three.

*(Aha! The word is Off-licence, as in, a premisis that sells alochol but where alcohol cannot be drunk on the vendor's premisis, unlike an on-licence, for example, a pub). Leaves me wondering what you call a 'convenience store' that doesn't sell alcohol at all...a non-license? I dunno.

06.05 PICNIC

2010-06-05T13:04:00.002-04:00

Bottle of imported icewine and a feast of cold cuts, meat pies, crusty bread, and more cheeses than I can take in. Dan puts on his serious face as he preps the meal. Down to work slicing that loaf. A relaxing picnic on the common (but for the snarling dog invading Dan's comfort zone). The sun is setting and the air is still, calm, calming. We dust the crumbs off the blanket (think scene after a cookie monster raid, hold the cookies, replace with crackers) and recline after a hefty indulgence. Perfect. Content. Happy.

06.04 LUNCH BREAK

2010-06-04T13:02:00.002-04:00

I've taken to going for walks on my lunch breaks, an effort to stretch the back and legs after hours at the desk. Ambitious on this scorching afternoon, I made it as far as Spitalfields near Liverpool Street, taking in the scene of the city grind along the way. Not such a grind at this hour. Constructions workers lined up in the shade under their scaffolding much on sandwiches, people-watching with a curiosity that suggests the view from ground level is a novelty. A churchyard spotted with city workers, lounging on the lawn, catching some sun. Business folk enjoying a pint outside overflowing pub doors.

Relaxing. The sun has this effect.

06.03 MAN AND FIRE

2010-06-03T12:58:00.001-04:00

There is something primal, and amusing, that emerges when men barbecue. An element of wind and a two-foot flame consumes their dinner. Panic. A few grunts. Team effort. Fire is under control. Sausage and burgers are excusably charred, but cooked perfectly, of course, on the inside.

06.02 RICHMOND RELAYS

2010-06-02T12:56:00.002-04:00

Love a good relay race. The Thames Hare & Hounds running club hosted the annual Richmond Park Relays this afternoon. Proved a nice change of pace to the usual Wednesday workout at Battersea.

Men's teams of four and women's teams of three (under the principle that we run slower, and thus will take longer to finish. Harumph) circuit a 3.1 mile undulating loop (that nemesis of a hill that still haunts me from the xc season included in the course!)around the park.

My team included Sarah and Cass as second and third runners and I took off first with the pack. We set off at an alarming quick speed, probably in the 'its merely 3 miles' spirit of a group of runners mostly training half-mar and longer distances. Proved rather excruciating, but the pain was over (relatively) quick, considering the miles I've been putting in of late.

All in a hard day's work.

06.01 TURKEY PIE

2010-06-01T16:19:00.001-04:00

It's a cold and rainy night so I thought I'd rustle up some comfort food. Homemade potato and fennel cream soup and my first-ever attempt at a meat pie - turkey and veg in a made-from-scratch pastry (cold hands are, well, handy on occasion).

Proved a success, and won me points with the boyfriend. The easiest way to a man's heart...

05.31 FISH & CHIPS & SEA

2010-05-31T16:15:00.007-04:00

Whit Monday. Dan and I decide to spend the Spring Bank Holiday cycling from London to Brighton. After a hearty fry-up, Dan plots out the route, and I take little interest in the directions, despite my overdeveloped hypothalamus (ask Phil at work, he's seen the MRI) and presumably superior navigation skills, err, generally speaking.

(Landmarks! I need landmarks like the Uniroyal Tire in Detroit...).

We're a good 15 km in and, referencing to the map, Dan points to his curly cranium. (That's it?!). Thankfully, he's jotted some notes, but when I take a closer look at the details it is only then that I realise his idea of a map includes vague details about which towns to hit and a few key junctions. Mine would have included every junction, fork, pothole and turn - and I might have thrown in the Uniroyal Tire for good measure.

His sense of adventure is to Indiana Jones as mine is to Frodo Baggins.

Inevitably, we take a few wrong turns -- but then a few right ones -- to find ourselves at the foot of Ditchling Beacon (which Dan ambitiously included in the itinerary, *harumph*) - with 100 km already weighing our legs. I managed it, trollying my lethargic legs up 1.2 km at an average of 9 km/h. Slow as frozen molasses. But I did it. (So did Dan, but his effortless climb, caboosing my effort, is probably not worth further mention...).

A few km coasting downhill, the sun setting, cows grazing lazily, alpacas in the distance, and splendid endless views of the undulating countryside and we're in Brighton. 5:15 and 115 km. We head to the waterfront, grab some salty, vinegary, greasy grub from the local chippy and park it (that is, gently sit our tender aching bums) on the pebbled beach (ouch!) by the sea.

I resolved to have fish & chips by the sea over 3 years ago, on a touristy whim, and this is my first. But worth the wait. Now I've finally gone and done it, and earned it well, and haven't enjoyed it alone.

05.30 HAND HORN

2010-05-30T16:07:00.002-04:00

Jenny is a performer. I realised this one karaoke night in Nottingham, when she stole the show with her rendition of 'These boots are made for walking'.

She can also rattle out a classical tune on her living room piano and spends her working day on air entertaining South Yorkshire with her banter.

Her song and dance portfolio is expanding, with her ensuing fame using her body as an instrument. Sounds racy, but it was an innocent discovery in her youth. At the young age of 10, prompted by a season of summer camp idling, she discovered a talent that is soon to find her recording with the South Yorkshire Symphony Orchestra.

The Hand Horn.

Cupping her hands strategically, to seal any air holes, a gust of breath angled precisely between the thumbs reveals a gentle sounds that falls somewhere between a flageolet and a loon.

Piece of cake? Not so. A few attempts leave me breathless and dizzy and, despite finally achieving a toot, I'm still happy to remain a part of the audience (fan club!).

05.29 DEX

2010-05-29T08:49:00.002-04:00

Dan hung up the headphones, in his words, around the time we met. He used to DJ regularly at a few local joints, but wanted his Friday nights back. Retirement ensued.

Perfect timing, more time for me.

He still does the odd gig for friends and special events, and tonight is a big one - not just because its a well-established Bank Holiday event hosted by his music guru housemate with a guest DJ known nation-wide. But also because its my first time in the audience.

His set is wicked good, and gets the dance floor going by the end of the hour. Embarassingly, I couldn't name a single track, err...plenty room for learning. But I got up for a boggie and observed Dan in his element - crowd pleasing, music hugry, energetic vibe.

05.28 LINE-UP

2010-05-28T08:44:00.004-04:00

It's my first weekend with Dan in five weeks, as we've both been away. Never in the same place at the same time on a Saturday or Sunday - and rarely a Friday.

The line-up for the night: Drinks, Comedy, Food.

Discouraged by the Line-Up at a riverfront pub, we head instead to nearby Vinopolis where we begin the evening with a cocktail - it's early enough for me to enjoy a dirty martini without the risk of spillage on my dress.

We moseyed on to a nearby venue for the next Line-Up for the evening - three comedians, the first an Afro-Londoner with a momma's boy appeal, the second a grungy local with a few too many punch lines, and the headliner a more classic story teller, who stole the show. A good few hours of entertainment.

Entertained, but hungry, we foraged nearby for a bite to eat. The only option was a good one - a tapas bar in Borough. The final Line-Up for the night: rock-salt garlic prawns in a chili aolio, honey glazed hot cheese, pork belly with quince, ham and cheese croquettes (French done Spanish style - interesting), and anchovies with olive tapenade over greens. The conversation-stopping food brought the evening to a perfect close; we trollied home contented, a weekend night out together, at last...

05.27 KARAOKE

2010-05-27T08:41:00.001-04:00

Our department hosted a Karaoke night. As part of the organizing department, I made it my responsibility to ensure everyone was having a good time, and therefore I was unable to, err, sing. Or attempt to, I should say.

I did get up and do the macarena at one point. But apparantly, this doesn't count as karaoke, unless you know the words (seriously, who actually sings along to that one??).

After a few rounds of bubbly and some beer, the lads got up and had a go at 'Daydream Believer'. Not a bad rendition at all. The crowd was wild - howling.

05.26 WELCOME DRINKS

2010-05-26T08:29:00.002-04:00

The Bank Holiday weekend kicks off early, very early, with Wednesday night drinks and a catch-up with the girls. Lauren moved to the city recently, from Bristol, where she had taken a job after our journo course.

Now resident in Clapham, we met at a local pub for a few glasses of wine and some belated gossip, and to welcome Lauren to the big smoke.

05.25 FUNKY?

2010-05-25T17:54:00.004-04:00

Tuesday. My weekly art installation. This time, a deviation from the usual fruit and veg, for a very challenging still life of a pair of vintage shoes and a ladies hat.

It's my mother's birthday, and I painted this with her in mind. She worked at a shoe shop in London whens he was in her 20s and has a thing for footwear.

I took longer than usual to sketch this out, as my viewpoint had me positioned with a foreshortening of the shoe. As a result, my painting was rushed. Blending colours on the canvas, I experimented with layer over layer until I landed the shades and shadows I was after.

The result, according to Stephen, was 'Funky'.

He asked whether I was American (no...), and said, nevertheless, that I painted in the fasion of some famous West Coast American artists, known to push paint along the canvas for a very fluid, in-motion effect.

Funky. It could work. I just need to find a way to make a lemon funky, but not in the smelly sort of way, and I'll have mastered my own style.

05.24 PORTRAIT PAINTER

2010-05-24T02:23:00.003-04:00

Nope, it isn't Tuesday. After all, I'm not the only artist in the house. Salma has filled the living room mantle with her signature swirly acrylics, and is now 'dabbling' (can you call someone this talented a 'dabbler'?) in portraits, with a work based on a photo of our housemate, Maddy.

I say 'dabbling' because the work she'd displayed so far has been abstract, or (to say the least) imaginative - a flying-spaghetti-moster-like deity hangs over a My Little Pony beneath a ranbow that leads to a squawking chicken with feathers a-flapping, in one of her classic works.

It is interesting to see her style converted to realism. And she's planning to sell her recent works, which might have a larger market if she sticks to more typical (less disturbing) decorative subjects. In any case, a natural with the brush, she's destined to cash in on her talent....

05.23 GREEN VAN

2010-05-23T02:19:00.002-04:00

Most of the time spent participating in the Green Belt Relay, involves being shuttled to, from and in between stages in a team van. Three colour-coded vehicles - Green, Blue and Red - are coordinated on a leap-frog-like schedule driving runners to their scheduled starting points, marshall points and designated finish areas to pick up racers as they finish. There's usually baking, always wine gums, the occassional post-run box of donuts, case of beer -- all amidst a faint smell of sweaty socks.

The van-time fun helps distract you on days like today, where luck of the GBR draw has me descend Box Hill (Stage 19 Map), only to climb the height across dorking and along the North Downs Way. A stunning course over 10.5 miles, but made arduous by Saturday's 10.65 already weighing on my legs, not to mention the sweltering mid-arvo start time and the fact I haven't run uphill in months. The panoramas were worth the effort, and the hills gave a good enough excuse to slow the pace...err, nearly 10 mins slower than yesterday's longer distance.

Still, it suits my perverse definition of fun, and, given the giddy folk in the picture, not mine alone.

05.22 LETTY GREEN

2010-05-22T02:00:00.002-04:00

It's the Green Belt Relay, a two-day 220 mile relay challenge around the skirts of London that follows the M25 highway, encircling the city. Each member of the 11-strong team runs a stage on both Saturday and Sunday, ranging anywhere from 6-13 odd miles on terrain as flat as towpath, to hills so steep they cause you to walk, in crouching agony, up them.

When you aren't running, you're being shuttled, stage to stage, to marshall, hand out water, cheer or just relax by the start or finish of a stage. The logistics of the even is a feat in itself.

My stage (stage 8 map) today began at Letty Green, in Hertford and followed a stretch of canalside towpath to cover 10.65 miles ending at Dobbs Weir in Hoddeson. It was a flat fast course, and an opportunity to gauge my fitness, so I tried to stay focused, warm up and stretch, whilst my vanload, most of whom had already competed for the day, enjoyed a pint at the quant countryside pub that marked my starting point. It was worth the discipline, as I just dipped under 1 h 12 min for the course, finishing 3rd and within 1 min of two women ranked top 25 in the nation, which showed some improvement in my speed since I ran a half marathon in Feb. The cost of a quick course, however, meant enduring endless stretches of gravel towpath, lined with beer-sipping sunsoaking folk who only served, with their puzzled looks, to make me think twice about how I was spending my Saturday afternoon...not to mention harassing young boys who you'd think never saw a woman in spandex, dogs off leishes who made moving hurdles of themselves, and a riverboat called 'Slow Pace' that cruised past as I was huffing it in the last 5 k.

Tedious, but I enjoyed the flats while they lasted. Tomorrow I'm in for a more undulating change of pace...

05.21 HOME GIRL

2010-05-21T17:57:00.002-04:00

On from yesterdays blog to my own very domesticated housemates. Salma, in particular, has a knack for making a house a home. From bread baking, to colouring the walls with portraits and paintings, stitching a cloth spice rack, to a flourishing garden of herbs and veg - she towers above Nigella on the pyramid of home-bound deities.

This evening, she was whipping up a risotto for a friend and gave me some instruction. Take home point: stir, stir, stir until your wrist feels like it's gonna fall off.

I watched in amusement as she plucked peas from a stalk on the terrace, harvesting a good handful of home-grown greens for the recipe. Each potted plant nurtured to perfection, while my shabby dried-out sunflower in a can - a birthday gift from Kat that was supposed to be fool-proof - limps in pathetic contrast in a shady corner.

I think I got the risotto down, but I'll leave the gardening to the green-thumbed domestic goddesses.

05.20 HOME BOYS

2010-05-20T17:52:00.002-04:00

Dan prepped dinner for me this evening, just before his housemate Alex arrived with the ingredients for a Northern recipe he educated us both on. - sausage, onion, potato and bacon baked in a casserole. For the life of me, I can't remember what it's called. Let's call it filling, because that's how it looked.

Dan was wearing a pink t-shirt that matched my shoes. Hot pink. Suits him. He did the laundry around me, while I read the headlines online (Venter creates synthetic life form!). I got a lashing earlier for freezing his laptop (my magic touch...), then another for reading the news when I should have been paying him more attention (my own philosophy back to bite me in the bum).

Dan and Alex, along with Matt, are a domesticated trio, coordinating a weekly dinner rota, tending to their garden with some green-thumbed pride, fussing about patio furniture and admiring their lighting fixtures from time to time.

It is endearing, and worthwhile visiting just to be a female fly on the wall every now and again. A lesson in male domestic tendencies, humour and lingo.

05.19 UNICYCLE KID

2010-05-19T14:07:00.002-04:00

Cycling into work today, this kid in school uniform riding a unicycle comes whizzing past on the pavement. His jacket tail flails behind him as he pedals with some determination - eager to get to class on time? or focused on keeping upright?

I tried to ride a uni once, in a hallway with the walls on either side as support. Just mounting the seat is a task, not to mention the dismount - tip forward. Figured, it just wasn't for me. Best stick to two wheels. (Pehaps even three after realizing just how poor my sense of balance was).

I missed the moment when the uni was transformed from a busker bike or a circus cycle to a trendy mode of transport and even a competitive sport. Or perhaps that transformation never occurred, as a bit of research reveals unicycle sport is nothing new. Downhill mountain uni has been around for decades and even team sports - uni hockey for one - are well established. The 2010 biennial UNICON is currently taking place in New Zealand - a circus of single-track superheros competing in artistic, track, off-road and team events.

Almost makes this unicyclist appear astray, heading along a solo swerve, a hazard on the pavement.

05.18 CABBAGE

2010-05-18T18:01:00.003-04:00

"Nice cabbage!"

...said my oil painting instructor this evening, when he had a peek at my work in progress.

Today's session had us doing transcription - replicating another painting to train in the artist's use of brushstroke and colour. Intimidated by the possiblity of dabbling in a master's technique, I leant for a safe bet, selecting a picture with, well, more fruit and veg - comfort zone.

The selected work was by Cotan, Still life with Quinice, Cabbage, Melon and Cucumber (c. 1600). Cotan, a pioneer in realism, is best known for developing a still life style called 'bodegon', characterized by dead game, uncooked veg, dim lighthing and dark backgrounds, lending a surrealist feel to the work. Curiously, he has a thing for 'hanging' things - in this case, the cabbage and quince are strung and hanging in the left frame.

Bizarre, but I gave it a go, on Stephen's recommendation. Nailed the quince in no time (small, round, orange-tinted fruit are my new expertise...), but the leafy cabbage, with its blue-greens, yellow-greens and deep green shadows proved a challenge, and took up most of my time. It was a relaxing exericise, however, and good training in blending colour. Tip of the day: vermillion + crimson red = a deep purply nearly black background. Never use black.

05.17 WRITING ON THE WALL

2010-05-17T17:03:00.004-04:00

Passing this worn and weathered building on my way back from the grocery shop, I took a moment to stop and read the writing on the plastered brick exterior. Writing stencilled upon writing.

Horses and carraiges jobbed for any period. Cars for Hire. Travellers....Stations....Etc...Supplied.

Give it some thought, and still can't make much sense of it besides it was once a shop, and that it has a history of dealing in transport ventures. Sack of potatoes, eggs and milk are getting weighty, so I shrug my shoulders and continue along.

05.16 GADGETS

2010-05-16T09:27:00.005-04:00

Motivated. Motivated? My eyes opened from a night's deep sleep to clear skies. Sticking with my resolution to cycle weekly, I dragged my body out of bed, out of flannel and into spandex, rehydrated and set off for a loop around Richmond Park.

I didn't quite clip into the pedals before realising something was amis. It all began a few days ago when I thought I had to replace a flat. Took the wheel of, only to realise there was no puncture - the tire just needed some air. So Dan helped me realign the wheel perfectly before securing it. Piece of cake.

But I had barely left the front door today when I realised the odometer wasn't clocking my motion. It happens time-to-time when the sensor is not aligned perfectly. Drives me bananas. I leant over the handrail to fiddle with the gadget, only to find we had replaced the wheel with the sensor on the opposite side.

Sigh. Removed the wheel, fliped it round, aligned it perfectly and secured it. Off I went - at 0.0 km/h according to the measure. Sod it. I don't need all the data. I whiled the miles instead focusing on my cadence, taking in the scene and trying to forget that my fingers were freezing.

The last straw came as a cloud, rolling in tow of a gust of wind and a spatter of rain. It was at this point the odometer, in its last breath, wheezed a reading of 99.99 km/h, before going blank again. I enjoyed the momentary time-motion warp, imagining I could actually move that fast (wondering why the odometer - my odometer - even climbed to such a high speed), before trollying home, hungry, wet and in for a day of motionlessness DVD viewing.

05.15 SUPERHERO

2010-05-15T09:26:00.004-04:00

If I were a superhero, I could eat all this food in one sitting.

Kat and Paul joined me at Whitechapel Gallery this afternoon, a long overdue date, as we've been saying we'd like to go for months. We doubled our achievements by following the gallery with dinner at Tayyabs - another on our 'to-visit' list. Pakistani feast - aromatic blends, tender meat, greasy naan and a bit of a kick. Bonus: BYO.

Fed and fuelled on superfood, we took a stroll to visit Ben, who lives not far from Whitechapel on the 5th floor of a block building in Stepney Green. A cozy pad with a lovely panorama of the city. Perhaps it was the view, although I can't quite remember, but we got on the topic of superpowers. He claimed flight before any of us could nab it, so Kat settled for invisibility and Paul, well, he decided he'd be 'P-man', and, well, induce incontinence (hands-free) on hapless villains (i.e., politicians). Since air and land were pretty much covered, I thought it'd be worthwhile if I covered the marine world and so decided on go-go-gadget gills as my superpower.

Beer ran out before the conversation, as always, and we were in kahoots until the sun went down and it was time to descend, by elevator (sigh), and beam ourselves back to our beds (conventionally, however, via public transport...).

05.14 SUN ROAST SANNY

2010-05-14T09:17:00.004-04:00

We took a staff lunch today. After a morning deliberating where to go, I managed to negotiate the group out of Wagamama's yet again (I'm really not into their service style and don't appreciate the whole 'fusion' thing, which simply allows them to use common, generic ingredients and call it cool), and aim for a picnic in the park with some pork sandwiches from Grazing - Jess' fine suggestion.

The sandwich bar specialises in roast and deli meats, and is famous in our neck of the business woods for their pork roll, so I went for the signature item - with the works. Slices of pork on a granary bun with two roast potatoes mashed on top, stuffing, apple sauce, sofened carrots and cabbage.

It was over the top - or at least falling out the sides - Sunday roast smashed between bread! I'd give it raving reviews, but it was unfortunately rather dry (not the meat, but more likely the combo of potato and bread. Perhaps more apple sauce would remedy?) and I landed the fatty end of the pork, just before the chef pulled out a new batch of roast meat. Mouthfuls of gelatinous pork fat. Gross.

Still, I enjoyed it, and it's always nice to spend some social time with the coworkers. Must say (and can probably speak for the company), little work was done during the second half of the day - all the blood rushing to my digestive system left little to the brain for concentrating. We washed it all down with an early afternoon and a drink at the pub.

05.13 AUDIENCE

2010-05-13T09:09:00.004-04:00

We are in for a blockbuster tonight. Robin Hood - yet another remake of the legendary tale - this time a more swashbuckling version than the Costner flick, and with a less jovial undertone than Men in Tights.

We seat ourselves for a hurried bite before the show. Already in 'audience' mode, we are side-by-side, bumping elbows and people watching from a cozy corner (but for the nearby door swinging open and shut, letting in a chilling breeze form outside) as we wait for our food to arrive. We're pushing it for time and Dan is more interested with the traffic through the kitchen door, waiters bustling in and out with drinks and dinner plates for other guests. He is hungry. I'm fussed about feeling rushed.

We sip slowly on our drinks and at least enjoy the moment before we find ourselves scarfing down dinner with little time between bites for natter. We up and hurry ourselves to Theatre 1, which is somehow dark and still - are we in the right one? Why hasn't the film started, or at least the previews already? We're late!

We resume our adjacent arrangement, this time eyes to the screen, waiting yet again. Playing audience again. The previews begin, just as we're doubting ourselves a second time - but the show is late and we're just in time.

05.12 MAPLE MASTERPIECE

2010-05-12T08:43:00.000-04:00

Voila! A caramelised banana maple and pecan upsidedown cake, topped with warm creme anglaise. Maddy is taking a course at Leiths, and arrives home weekly with samples of her latest culinary creation. We've been on a steady stream of maple syrup this week, slowly eating through the box of imported Christie maple creme biscuits I've left on the dining table. But there is always room for a smidgen (a tapped-tree's -worth) more, and Maddy had no problems this evening finding gluttonous guinea pigs to taste test her work. Masterpiece.

05.11 COLOUR DUMB

2010-05-11T13:48:00.003-04:00

In spite of the fact it exists in the family, I'm certainly not colour blind, probably thanks to my inherited Y chromosome. But I'm beginning to realise how colour-dumb I am after just a few sessions in Oil Painting. The subject today was the usual array of fruit and veg plus container of sorts - however, the container was a deep green but transluscent bottle that reflected the red and blue backdrop. Not to mention the oranges were reflecting a purple hue, where I was about to dab grey onto the canvas.

I was about to mar the fruit with grey highlights, when the instructor intercepted brush and canvas just in time to point out the shadows were actually a cool blue/purple hue. While he was at it, he added green to the aubergene pointed out its reflection in the bottle, and then drilled me on primary, tertiary, intrinsic and focal colours.

I couldn't believe my eyes.

I'm thinking now of Berkeley's theory of subjective idealism, wherein an individual can only realise sensations and objects directly, and not in abstract terms. To be is to be perceived.

On the flip side, this doesn't mean that what is not perceived (at least by my amateur eye) cannot be. Apparantly the colours exist, but are only perceived when pointed out to me. Alas, my head spins, my eyes ache and my clothes are covered in splotches of green and blue and burnt sienna that never existed until I put them there.

05.10 FUNNY FACES

2010-05-10T13:39:00.006-04:00

The best thing about this photo is that Dan is in it.

The second best thing about this photo is how excited Dan is to be in it (although I think it is dinner, rather than photo-blog fame that he's really excited about).

The next best thing about this photo is that I caught the funny face in the picture on our wall in the background - a look that somewhat mirrors (but with less excitement and a hint of confusion and surprise) the funny face in the foreground.

05.09 NO PLACE LIKE HOME

2010-05-09T15:27:00.003-04:00

Home, away from home, away from home.

Just arriving, suitcase in tow. Relief? Or disbelief that only hours ago I was on the other side of the Atlantic. (I'm generally stupified when I land safely on the tarmac, often anticipating the worst when travelling by air).

Time to resettle. I unpack, tidy up and even fit in a short run to shake out the jet legs. Somehow I still feel unsettled, and away from home. But neither do I really feel in my element in Canada any longer. I've never really been attached to location - but rather to people. Although I certainly miss runs along the escarpment, picnics by the Pelee shores, dining in Toronto and driving the Ontario highways strips. I would likewise long for a Friday falafel from the Borough Market, lounging on the common in the summer, Wednesday workouts in Battersea Park, mild summers, mild winters and the weekday bustle across London Bridge.

So here I am now, and my travels have left me forever clicking my ruby heels, murmuring the mantra, "There's no place like home", and without a place in mind.

05.08 GUMMY WORMS

2010-05-08T15:24:00.006-04:00

Passing time at the airport, streaming intake of sugar in the form of sour gummy worms, while Judy sends out warnings of the impending ill effects of Reno's over-indulgence. 'Too much sugar. Spoil your dinner. Look at that belly. Diabetes!' In one ear and out the other. Being silly (gummy worms have that effect) as the week of family fun comes to a close.

A middle-aged man walks by, interjecting our photo shoot and clearly off a flight from Florida as he's sporting a crisp 'Orlando' souvenir t-shirt and is followed by a train of families with sun-kissed kids wearing MickeyMouse ear-shaped hats.

'Pardon me', he says. 'I didn't realise that y'all were taking a sexy photo'.

Sexy photo? We loosely interpret his use of the word 'Sexy'. The man ducks, barely tipping at the cervical spine, in a futile attempt to avert the lens. More a courtesy than a determined motion to avoid my mother taking a photo of his torso. Americans.

We contain our laughter long enough for him to move out of an audible range before breaking down and capturing the worm feast.

The last laughs made it especially hard to part and say goodbye.

05.07 HSLP

2010-05-07T13:04:00.001-04:00

Casey is running toward the mall in full stride. Not because she's entering a revival in her running career, certainly not because she's eager to join the hooded teens, hovering suspiciously around the entrance to the movie theatre -but because its pouring rain and she's dedicated the early part of our evening to consulting me on Canadian music.

The new album by Broken Social Scene is a must buy, since I'll be seeing them live (on her advice) next month. And after scouring the aisles, I settle on the Stars, who Casey will be seeing in concert tomorrow night. She knows the Arts & Crafts label inside out it seems, and while she and I have different appetites for music, she knows what I like.

On our way back to the car, Casey and I agree that we have spent far too much of our adult Friday nights at Devonshire Mall. We leave the parking lot and head for my parents dining table, where we spend the rest of the evening catching up on the months past since my Christmas visit, cup of tea in each of our hands. I go wild and go caffeinated. I guess we're the sort of "hslp" who can be anyplace having a good time.

05.06 TOURING NIAGARA

2010-05-06T12:47:00.003-04:00

We're nearing the end of our family getaway to Niagara, heading toward the falls for lunch and a romp through the Fallsview Casino, before beelining to Toronto for a home-cooked roast. We stopped to take a peek at the power generator on the Buffalo border, a bit of an eyesore, but a curious piece of work. My father, as usual, seems to know everything about it.

I've seen this structure dozens of times, but in full-fledged tourist mode, I took a spontaneous picture, and Reno, in full-spirited holiday mode, struck a spontaneous pose. His silly spirit reveals more of what is to come when we hit the slots in Niagara Falls, timbits in hand and dizzied by the colourful carpets and flashing lights. Giddy.

05.05 KISS AND SQUEEZE

2010-05-05T18:48:00.008-04:00

I don't remember the last time we took a family holiday, if you discount trips to Gozo, which is more like going home together than away.

We set off from Toronto this afternoon, touring Niagara Falls - a marvel that leaves me in awe no matter how many times I visit - and stopping for lunch before reaching our final destination Niagara-on-the-Lake. The quaint town, situated in Canada's winery region, and home to the long-running Shaw Festival (although we didn't catch a show), offered the perfect respite from the usual Windsor routine and the bustle of Toronto. We made a pit stop at Inniskillin before heading into town for a bit of exploring and a lesson in Canadian geography (10 min debating whether it really was Toronto's skyline we could see in the distance across lake Ontario - as usual, Reno was correct, the answer was yes. I must have inherited my huge hippocampus from him).

Dinner was set at North America's oldest golf course, overlooking the lake as a proper thunderstorm rolled in, the lightning diffusing the frequent flash of our three cameras (Camera shy?! Galeas?! Never...), capturing the evening's antics. I celebrated 'Happy May' - mother's day and Judy's birthday at once - she loved the emerald green shades (success!) - in fact, we each gave them a whirl, and they even suited Reno. Versatile.

The local Kerner went down well, but I washed down dinner with a 'Kiss and Squeeze', a Canadian tradition of warm apple cobbler, topped with aged cheddar and maple cream on the side, while the family watched with curious interest, but without appetite. More for me.

The day culminated in a kiss and squeeze between us, before we turned in for a good night's rest.

05.04 GIGGLES

2010-05-04T21:16:00.003-04:00

Giggles. Sometimes, my mother gets them. They come in spurts and uncontrollable fits. Sometimes they spray wine through nostrils. Other times, they cause choking laughter. Most of the time, I don't get it. Judy has a sense of humour that is crass, goofy and inconsistent with her usual manner. Generally, her giggles need excusing and explaining. But we don't usually bother. We just shake our heads as long as we can before the contagious laugh is spread around the table, like a yawn, only better.

05.03 HARDWARE

2010-05-03T21:47:00.003-04:00

'Proudly Canadian'. The logo spans the front of Rona, where Reno and I scanned the aisles for, err, a strip of cherry oak wood. (Still the logo doesn't resound as patriotically as 'Canadian Tire'). Not really sure what exactly this was for besides the fact that my father will be installing it at my sister's place this week.

Going to the hardware store with my father is an age-old tradition. When I was a kid, we would frequent Canadian Tire then tour Home Hardware before scouring a few paint shops en route to a home that seemed always under refurbishment - and still does. I used to collect the colour strips in the paint aisle, spending the drive home carefully selecting my favourite - usually on the basis of the colour's name rather than its hue. Always favoured colours that had the word 'sea' in them, or that somehow reminded me of the beach.

Rona didn't stock cherry oak, or even a flat metal strip that might have served whatever purpose the latest 'Reno'vations called for. A good enough reason to spend the afternoon on another epic hardware-store-crawl...

(Some things never change.)

05.02 BACKYARD

2010-05-02T09:15:00.002-04:00

Translation: back garden. And a title better reflecting the rear end of the house I grew up in. My parents have thumbs as green as a leprechaun's and a garden abounding in flowers and veg. A haven for earthworms, and predatory birds alike. Both thriving under the till and hoe my parents put to the dirt. I might have forgotten just what a knack Reno and Judy have for gardening had I only stuck to visits when the yard was snowed over.

I have just got in from a neighbourhood run, caught in the rain in the last few miles - a refreshing and welcome soaking on a muggy afternoon. Reno is tinkering in the garage, while a documentary on orangutans (he immediately points out their resemblance to mine) airs on an old 14-inch screen in the background. Judy is multitasking, as usual - managing to pause, pose and smile for the camera before returning to her primary task - nailing dinner. She is keeping an eye and nose on a dish of im-quarun - my favourite Maltese food - baking and crisping just in time for me to gobble up in the fashion of the cookie monster met with a dish of hot gooey biscuits.

Its a pretty relaxing scene, I took a snap, then took it all in over a good long stretch of the legs.

05.01 WELCOME PACKAGE

2010-05-01T11:10:00.002-04:00

I was in London for breakfast and Windsor by lunchtime. Judy was anxiously awaiting at arrivals in Detroit Metro, while Reno kept the trusty old Sebring running and ready to shuttle me across the border, home.

In spite of telling mom not to bother bringing food for the road, she was equipped, as ever, with enough provisions to cover me through the journey to Windsor and back - which, I realised, given my father's Sunday driving on this Saturday was not a bad idea at all.

Politely, I turned down the healthy options to allow room to stuff myself with Timbits, collecting them in my cheeks in the fashion of my hamster John McPhee, and with the similar primal motive that tomorrow there might be none. I rifled through the pack of 10 until I found my first choice - an old fashioned glazed (a preference I am reluctant to disclose as I edge on 30 - my younger palate would have gone straight for the chocolate). Delicious.

A warm and stodgy welcome to warm and smoggy Windsor.

04.30 SWEDISH BERRIES

2010-04-30T14:57:00.005-04:00

I met Rasmus and Camilla last year in Gothenburg, at the wedding of our mutual friends, Helena and Hristo. It is a Swedish tradition to lay out the seating plan at a weddings so that couples and friends are split, to encourage mingling among the guest list. It is a beautiful idea - I had attended the wedding single, with my friends Marieke and Barend, and for once wasn't left bitter by an overdose of romantic antics.

I was seated beside Rasmus, and we soon found common ground in the subject of sweets - this before the first course was even served. Indeed, we had plenty in common and the conversation flowed about as fast as the liquor. Before the night was over, we had agreed to exchange candy from our respective countries - Last winter I sent him a bag of Maynard's Swedish Berries, of course.

As it happens, Rasmus and Camilla were visiting London this weekend. We met for lunch in Leadenhall and I was pleasantly surprised first when they presented a quirky paper lunch-bag full of their own version of the berry candy, which they don't call Swedish because that would just be redundant, or like calling muffins English.

Rasmus and Camilla were engaged recently, and said they will stick to the seating plan tradition - I can only wish that their occasion sparks similar friendships, and perhaps even international sugar trade.

04.29 END OF THE CURSE

2010-04-29T06:23:00.000-04:00

Maddy has an unfortunate streak with hamsters.

When she was a kid, she treated her pet to a luxurious bubble bath, only to find that hamsters don't stay afloat very easily. The second was hugged a little to hard - think of the nurturing but overbearing tendency of Lenny in Of Mice and Men. The third victim was fed a carrot; harmless enough. But Maddy supposed he might also require a knife to chop his dinner up. He slashed himself on it instead.

When we acquired John McPhee, Maddy was reluctant, but agreed to keep him, as long as he wasn't her responsibility. Salma and I roared 'Aye' to that (with one eye shut and in the affirmative, husky voice of a hamster-pirate comrade) on behalf of the McPheester. When he went missing, she spent two nights away, afraid she might step on him, sit on him or by some other fateful means, kill yet another. It comes as a surprise, then, that after a long 49-hour stretch of hiding, J-Mac mad his first appearance upon her return, in a midnight scramble across her bedroom rug, from one corner of the room to his hiding place under the bed. Maddy had only been home an hour or so, and might have mistaken him for a 'ghost of hamsters past' if it weren't for his distinguising missing eyeball.

She woke me in a start, fearful of catching him herself and, well, pulling a Lenny again - so I hustled to her room where we caught him mid-flight across the rug and replaced him safely in his cage. I might have felt guilty, reincarcerating McPhee, if it weren't for the ravenous state we found him in - he immediately stuffed his cheeks like a melon, washed it down with the complete bowlful of water, and then nestled himself in his favourite corner, curled into a foetal position and fell fast asleep.

We all slept well last night. Especially Maddy, who has finally broken the haunting curse.

04.28 FLASHBACK: A&E

2010-04-28T15:26:00.006-04:00

Call this cheating, but its my blog and I can bend the rules as I please. I took this photo a year ago today, for the purpose of the blog.

Here I am. Waiting patiently, as a patient does, for a GP to see me. A few days prior, at the tail end of a nasty cold and cough, I felt a sharp pain between my ribcage - muscle strain?! fracture?? Days later the pain hadn't subsided, but worsened instead.

Hypochondria set in and I was determined I had a tumour in my spine or some rare and incurable conditoin that would do me in. So I took myself to Westminster's A&E, albeit reluctantly, because I pretty much knew what I was in for.

Three long and tedious hours surrounded by coughing, snotting, bleeding, aching people before I was taken into the clinic only to be placed behing this blue curtain - a visual shield but not sound proof, allowing me to listen in on the dialogue between patient who needs psychological support and GP. That could be me in a few years, I suspect, if I don't get over this hypononsense.

Finally, a friendly GP allowed himself into my quarter, checked the usual signs - pulses, breathing, heart rate - and told me that I probably just pulled a muscle and any further diagnosis would require x-ray or MRI - another long waiting time during which I'd most likely just recover. He was young, assertive and good looking, so I believed him.

He sent me home with a wink, and I can attest one year later that the pain has not returned, and that I will think twice before submitting myself to A&E for such frivolous niggling aches and pains. Neither will I attend for what in hindsight I realise was a session of 'psych therapy' - for a GP to just tell me I'm gonna be alright. I'm alright.

04.27 NOT SO BLACK AND WHITE

2010-04-27T18:48:00.002-04:00

It's week two of my oil painting course. As demonstrated, I have a long way to go before I create anything worth framing, anything worth forcing upon my parents, even. After the age of 10, mothers and fathers have no obligation, nor any reason, to cling to such artifacts post them on the fridge, or even to put them into storage into retired bedrooms, like my own, currently a sanctuary commemorating the first 20 years of my life - medals, trophies, old photos, and trinkets that hold random memories, some gaining others losing their sentiment.

The subject today was a bowl, laid out on a blue cloth-covered table, containing an unorthodox blend of fruit, root and veg. A pale yellow lemon rubbed rind with a branching clove of garlic. Alongside rested a reddish-green apple and in the forefront, I suspect was a sweet potato, although I would like to hope it was an overripe pear. I still don't know what this object was, but the purpose of today's exercise was to paint what you see - and we can't always trust our interpretation anyways. To the left of the bowl was a sweet red pepper - the longish kind. I decided to frame the painting so that I cut most of this out, as the angle of the pepper meant it probably would have turned out looking somewhat vulgar in my version. A semi-opaque plastic jug was set behind the bowl and in front of a draping backdrop that required shading in grey. This fed into the most important lesson today - grey is not a blend of black and white.

Grey is burnt sienna, white and a touch of blue (declared, like a child who just nailed the 12x12 times table).

04.26 RUNAWAY

2010-04-26T10:58:00.010-04:00

This is not how I hoped to re-launch the blog today. I had a niggling feeling as I fell asleep last night, that I had forgotten to do something. I had double-checked the front door was locked before crawling under the duvet, but what I realised this morning was that I had double-checked the wrong door. I had left my hamster's cage wide open, and found it empty, without even a trail of woodchip bedding for a clue of his whereabouts.

John McPhee is my one-eyed hamsterman. I picked him up in the autumn, and named him appropriately after the American journalist and author of a book called Oranges - the colour of J-Mac's fur. I had been reading the book Blindness by Jose Saramago at the time, and figure I was ultrasensative to the hamster's case, supposing the missing eyeball might make him a weaker candidate for a home.

He could be anywhere by now - on his own little adventure - a la Feivel. I suspect that he is lying low - his climbing skills are poor on account of his skewed depth perception. I searched the nooks and crannies of our flat, in the hopes I might spot a furry orange ball tucked someplace rather obvious, but to no avail. I feel vaguely like I want to vomit. I have left small portions of food in the hallway, hoping to lure him. I am hanging my head in absentminded and irresponsible shame.

I can only hope that Johnny Mac will return in the next 2 months, and that you will see more than his empty cage featured in the tail-end of three-year-long 366-day blog.

04.25 SKY LARK

2009-04-25T14:25:00.003-04:00

In Eggesford, do as the country folk do - bird watching. The English have an astounding affection for their wildlife - particularly their birds. I do recall stumbling upon my flatmates, 21-something blokey blokes, admiring the little birdies in the garden on an early morning, cuppa tea in hungover hand.

So it was no surprise when, along a wander through the countryside with the more ambitious (and less hungover) of our group, Chris came to a halt at the distinct sound of what he then enthousiasticall pointed toward and identified with certainty as a Sky Lark. Apparantly their twitter is clearly distinguishable and they are known to hover in one place quite high in the sky which is indeed what this bird was doing. It took me a good squint and a few attempts at focusing at the correct point in the distance to finally spot the bird, hovering above.

This was just one of many staple, yet for me exotic, sights we saw along the way. Cows and horses dotted the rolling hills; the grass was long, and a brighter green than I've ever seen - ready for ruminating bovine to engorge. We saw sun and clouds, rain and a double rainbow. We stopped in a small town pub for a break and a round of bowls before forging ahead. I stepped on a bright blue beetle and learned to navigate a kissing gates, which, unfortunately, did not land me a kiss.

Most remarkable was how vague the public footpaths are. Our route was a wayward path from gate to gate, diagonals across fields and wanders through pine forest. Left to my own devices, I would have been lost in no time. What a peculiar version of 'the hike'.

04.24 BANANAS

2009-04-24T14:22:00.002-04:00

On our way to the countryside in Devon for some cottage country fun for Lex's birthday. I've decided on a banana-themed present for her birthday after having promised her that I wouldn't bake her with a banana cake in an attempt at some kind of reverse-psychology tactic of surprising her.

The gift bag, a recycled grocery bag, was decorated with a poem:
'Roses are red, bananas are yellow, hope that your birthday is as good as jello'.
My apologies for that one.

It also contained a banana badge, the simplified bananafied version of a Rubrik's cube, banana-coloured nail varnish, a banana coaster with a witty birthday-themed remark that I can't, for the life of me, remember (I'm suspecting 'it's not your birthday if you don't go bananas' or something along those lines), and, of course, a chocolate chip walnut banana cake (aka banana bread in Canada).

Somehow, the package still wasn't complete. I called on Kat and Paul for ideas, and Paul kindly offered his illustration skills which, before now, we all thought was limited to drawings only of bunnies doing what bunnies do most. But he managed to pull of this Warhol/Banksy-fusion-style banane. At least Paul is full of surprises.

04.23 JAMIE OLIVER

2009-04-23T14:09:00.002-04:00

This one's for Judy. A DIY pizza buffet at the new Jamie Oliver store in Clapham. Pizza-lovers heaven. Yet another good reason, besides bread and butter pudding, to come visit me in London...

04.22 ROUNDABOUT WAY

2009-04-22T04:45:00.001-04:00

I'm generally pretty good with maps, but navigating the Elephant and Castle roundabout is on an other-wordly scale of orienteering. It's particularly a challenge while pedalling furiously alongside bustling traffic, honking cars, and swerving buses.

I walked into work today -and I'm walking more and more because I find this much more relaxing than cycling and less a death-defying feat.

At worst, I might trip over myself, bump into a strolling pedestrian or get shin splints. Knock on wood.

04.21 URBAN CONSERVATION AREA

2009-04-21T16:50:00.001-04:00

Regent's Street is a Conservation Area. Not the sort of conservation area I'm familiar with though. You'd think the absence of trees and birds and abundance of paved road and towering buildings leaves little for conserving.

Like England's oldest National Park, this area is rather paved compared to Canadian standards. But unlike our nation which boasts remarkable landscapes, mountains, forests and lakes, England channels far more energy into preserving its heritage. The Regent's Street Conservation Area is all about protecting the Grade II listed buildings that rise above a valley of buses and cars. The street was completed in 1825 and was named after Prince Regent (George IV). Sadly, what is left is not the original buildings, designed by architect John Nash, but structures that were restored and rebuilt toward the end of the 19th century, rather peculiarly, under commision of the Office of Woods, Forests and Land Revenues.

04.20 STEP FOUR

2009-04-20T14:19:00.004-04:00

It's looking more like a bird, no? The photo I've based this painting on rests just below the easle. I've yet to dabble a bit here and there and touch up highlights in the background. And the beak is blank for fear I would accidentally smudge the surrounding wet colours with my hand. But I'm nearly there. Another painting only a father could love...?

04.19 PUB QUIZ

2009-04-19T14:17:00.003-04:00

Pub quiz at The Goat. With categories on Disney Films and Harry Potter you'd think they were catering to parents and kids.

Somehow Salma and Higgins nailed these ones.

Which European country has the letter M on its licence plate?

I got one answer correct, but sadly lost confidence and kept it in my head. The answer was not Gozo.

The first pub quiz I ever did was during my travels in Australia. Don't know how I got roped into that one. One of the answers was 'Blackberry' but I can't for the life of me remember the question. This is probably thanks to years of watching Alex Trebec host Jeopardy...

04.18 60K

2009-04-18T14:14:00.003-04:00

The Chasers organized a training day for cyclists. We met early at Richmond Park for what I anticipated would be an hour or so of drills and hills.

Four hours later I am home. I've logged 60 km on my tires and its only the second time I've ridden in since I hauled the bike here from Canada. We practiced signals and safety, cadence and shifting. Rolled into the last hour with a session of hill repeats. Ouch. Legs are jello.

04.17 EARLY BIRDS

2009-04-17T16:35:00.002-04:00

Let's be outrageous, he said, and meet for breakfast.

Early birds. But its fish in the sea I'm out to hook. I have no appetite for a worm.

We had breakfast at Nelsons. My choice - a cozy Italian-run sandwich shop that was one of few places catering to those who are up at the crack of dawn. I had smoked salmon on wholemeal bread toasted. I shattered records for eating slow. Probably because of all the talking. We covered everything from New Year bongs to budget airlines to easter eggs to bicycles to divorce to...my how time flies.

04.16 GREAT MAZE

2009-04-16T14:12:00.000-04:00

On my way to the hospital at King's College London. The place is a labyrinthe of crossroads and I was lost and nearly late for my appointment. Appropriately, the street I have found myself lost on is called Great Maze Pond. To add to the confusion, there is no pond in sight.

04.15 STEP THREE

2009-04-15T14:11:00.000-04:00

I've filled in just a bit more of the background, and completed the rock that the Kookaburra is perched on. It's coming along with the aide of James Yorkston which I have discovered sets a suitable mood for splashing paint.

04.14 SNOW FLOWERS

2009-04-14T14:06:00.002-04:00

It is the warmest day of the year so far. The sun is glaring. The trees on Clapham Common are blossoming furiously and their white petals shed on the green grass in a contrast that makes them appear almost as though there has been a snow flurry. But these flakes don't melt.

04.13 STEP TWO

2009-04-13T14:04:00.002-04:00

I got quite a bit accomplished in this second phase of painting. The background is complete, but for a few highlights in green, which will have to be added once this layer is dried to avoid a murky brown blend.

I'm quite pleased with how it is progressing - it's the first time I've nailed a painting in my first attempt. No canvases scrapped! I'm almost tempted to leave it as is, with a white silhouette of a supposed bird left up to interpretation. Or otherwise, I could blow up the photo of the Kookaburra and paste it in.

I'm afraid I might just ruin my work so far in Step Three.

04.12 EASTER EGGS

2009-04-12T14:03:00.001-04:00

Easter Sunday. Last year, in an attempt to be festive, I ate a goose egg. It tasted nice; but you can eat too much egg. To say the least, this range of prehistoric ovum at the Natural History Museum failed to whet my appetite.

Neither would I like to eat rabbit, which is a Maltese tradition and which my mother used to plate for us every year on this occasion. It seemed, coincidentally, that our pet bunnies routinely came down with an ear infection every spring and died.

Neither would I prefer lamb. Two times unlucky with food poisoning from the meat last year is enough to develop a life-long aversion.

Instead, I think I'll settle for a block of chocolate. What's the worst it could do but give me a sugar high and resurrect my endorphin levels for a little while...

04.11 BRIGHTON

2009-04-11T14:02:00.001-04:00

It happens, from time to time, that I develop an insatiable urge to be by the sea. I've been itching to get to the coast, and despite the gloomy weather, set out with some urgency to Brigton, the nearest coastal town from London. I beelined from the train station, past the shops just opening their doors for the days, through the lanes and across the green of the Royal Pavilion toward the shoreline.

I was nearly at a trot once the horizing was in view, with a pace that would suggest I was racing the tide and the sea would soon dry up and dissappear, like the shoreline at Alma in New Brunswick. I'd be left trodding the sludgy sea bottom, my desparate attempt at watching the waves roll in futile.

It wasn't all that dramatic. In the end I made it to the coast, sat for a good hour or so shielding the drizzle with my umbrella until my bottom was numb from the pebbles underneath and I felt sufficiently despondent thanks to the unforgiving critique by Jeremy Paxman of his own culture for their inadequacies and idiosyncrasies which are partly explained by the fact The English are an island people and have developed a nation surrounded by a moat.

It was absolutely perfect and just the sort of afternoon I was hoping for.
Ahhh....

04.10 DIPLODOCUS

2009-04-10T14:00:00.001-04:00

I visited the Natural History Museum today, which my coworker Alice has been raving about. The 2009 BBC photographer of the year awards were on exhibition so I made my way for a viewing. The pictures were impressive, my favorite a group of swans, in a near white-out snowstorm, their white feathers barely visible against the winter background, but their beaks, bright orange and almost illuminated by the contrast. It was taken in China. Absolutely beautiful.

Anyways, I didn't take a picture of the picture, as this wasn't allowed. But what's a trip to the museum without a dinosaur skeleton on display? I spent a bit of time admiring the structure and size of this one, and trying to figure out how to pronounce its name...

04.09 BABEL

2009-04-09T13:32:00.001-04:00

Night out in Clapham with the girls. Babel, not babble. But there was a lot of babbling. And words on the walls that were missing letters.

04.08 TRAFALGAR SQUARE

2009-04-08T04:44:00.001-04:00

Trafalgar square, on a a rainy day.
Also a busy day, with little time to elaborate.

In short, the wet pavement, nearly puddles, with pigeons and people wading across is a very English scene, if I ever saw one. But I wish somebody would turn the fountain off? It forms such a juxtaposition against the drizzly backdrop.

04.07 PARLIAMENT

2009-04-07T14:45:00.000-04:00

All this writing. Here's a pretty picture of parliament, aka the Palace of Westminster, taken from Westminster Bridge. I've yet to take a tour of the place and this is one of the few remaining sites to check off my list of 'touristy' things to do before I can officially consider myself a resident. I do believe, however, that Parliament is up there with the London Eye in terms of things that locals love to see and visit. With its 1100 rooms and 3 miles of corridors, I do hope they've devised a beeline route through the place.For now, I will appreciate it from the outside - an architectural marvel by Sir Charles Barry. I can only imagine how impressive it's belly will be.

04.06 STEP ONE

2009-04-06T13:26:00.000-04:00

I've got the bristles and linseed out again. This time, rather than splashing my imagination on canvas, I'm working from a photo, taken nearly 6 years ago, during my visit to Australia.

It's an exercise in technique more than anything, and I can certainly use the practice.

Like a jigsaw puzzle, I've started with the background, which frames the picture, and am working inward toward the more detailed object in the foreground - a bird. You'll see.

04.05 EYE

2009-04-05T13:23:00.001-04:00

I have yet to take a trip on the London Eye. My first impression was that this glorified Ferris wheel is an overpriced tourist trap. But I find more and more locals have taken their turn in one of its capsules and taken in a remarkable view of the city. One of these days so will I.

For now, I quite like the view from the ground.

04.04 CONCOCTING

2009-04-04T13:19:00.004-04:00

Out with Claire and some friends in Clapham. She looks angry, but I promise we had a good time. Lazy eye?

Started at mine with red wine, moved onto her previous workplace for martinis and fancy coctails, then onto a club sipping rum. A toxic concoction, but I survived it. Thankfully I needed only to cross the street and walk two minutes to roll my tired and tortured body into bed...

04.03 PROTEST PARADE

2009-04-03T13:17:00.002-04:00

More G20 action at Bank - it never ends. This afternoon, a parade of protesters marched past our building and my coworkers and I scrambled from the third floor, flooding the streets to decipher the commotion. It was a trade union group, from what we gathered, although it was difficult to tell exactly which. Someone was hollering into a megaphone, but it was not clear exactly the point that was being made. After the commotion of the past few days, their group of 50-80 seemed minuscule and inconsequential, but at least they were out there. We wondered exactly where they were headed, who their target audience was, and what the point of their effort could be. Unfortunately, I had to get back to work and have little to report...

04.02 AFTERTHOUGH

2009-04-02T13:15:00.002-04:00

The day after the G20 protests, I wandered back toward the Bank of England, littered with the odd copper and peppered with afterthoughts graffitied on the walls.

This one caught my attention. Indeed, the streets were claimed, and overtaken by protesters on mass, blocking the usual parade of taxis and buses and automobiles. Whether we 'reclaimed' the streets is another story - were they really ever intended for us?

In any event, I get the point - and it is one that has been well made in the brightest of oranges, inward from the main road, yet catches your eye - if you're moving at the rate of a pedestrian at least.

04.01 G20 PROTESTS

2009-04-01T13:11:00.001-04:00

I work around the corner from the Bank of England and made my way to the protests this afternoon. It was a spectacle!! Just AMAZING to see so many people out rallying!! I first meandered through the 'Climate Corner', where hundreds of friendly hippies had taken over Bishop's Gate St, camped in tents and kicked off a jamboree - all in the name of Nature. There was even a bake sale...(but I wouldn't trust the brownies weren't just made of cocoa). Anyways, it was a peaceful protest, as you would expect, with most of the crowd mellowed out with spliff-in-mouth...

Around the corner, however, was the chaos at The Bank - the crowd was raucous but not yet violent at the time I made my way through, so I joined in with some rants and chants about the state of the economy. There were some pin-striped bankers with the nerve to indulge on oysters and champagne in a building atop the crowd - or so that was the rumour going round - and I'm imagining the bottles I heard smashing were aimed at them. Wankers. As it was starting to get ugly, I got my money shots and made a mad dash.

03.31 ACHTUNG

2009-03-31T04:38:00.000-04:00

The G20 Summit is due to take place this week in London. Protests are scheduled at the Bank of England around the corner from my workplace. I had a stroll in that direction over my lunch break and came across this notice that a restaurant will be closed on the day of protests.

It seems much of the Bank area will take a furlough during the protests, with the possibility of violence imminent. I do wonder just how agressive people will be, what damage will be caused and exactly what the outcome will be. While I do believe it is important to vocalize our opinions and exercise democracy, I wonder just how effective the act of mass protesting is in terms of changing or swaying policy. The world leaders attendin the summit surely have detailed agendas set forth, are already fully aware of the general consensus on the economic issues in their representative nation states and will forge ahead with whatever plans they had for reform - regardless of the flailing angry unemployed or sympathetic mob outside the building walls. We'll see.

03.30 CORNER OFFICE

2009-03-30T04:36:00.002-04:00

I always wanted an office with windows and a nice view. I worked from home today. The ideal workplace - complete with fully stocked kitchen and bed for frequent breaks. Not to mention the view on such a sunny day.

I do find I am more productive working from home, without time wasted on the morning routing - working breakfast, blowdrying and makeup application into breaks taken occasionally as needed.

We should be allowed to do this more often.

03.29 ROWING

2009-03-29T04:34:00.002-04:00

It's the famous, annual Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race !

I headed across the city to Hammersmith to watch the rowers whiz by on the bend of the Thames River. I didn't know who to root for, but from the looks of things here, I think Cambridge had the lead.

Oxford took the race in the end. But what I realised was that it was not so much the rowers I was excited by, but the crowd. Hunderds - thousands - flocked to the waterfront to watch the sport. As the rowers approached the bend, fans on the north side of the river who could see them nearing began to cheer. There was a slow, steady crescendo to the point when the rowers were in full view under the Hammersmith Bridge and everyone was howling in full throttle.

The two squads were moving alarmingly quick and I could barely catch the photo. There speed appeared hastened by a fleet of motorized boats in hot pursuit - media, medics and security.

It got me all excited about the weather warming and getting back into some competitive action!

03.28 BUSKER

2009-03-28T04:39:00.000-04:00

Had a stroll through Covent Garden and watched some amateur buskers doing their thing. This man was quite acrobatic and somersaulted his body through a tiny ring. Well done. Wish they hadn't kicked me out of gymnastics at aged 6.

03.27 VISIT FROM DERBY

2009-03-27T04:30:00.002-04:00

Juliette visited this weekend - a much needed getaway from the hustle and bustle of her life up in Derby.

With three teenaged sons, one of whom has a chronic bone disorder and currently in therapy after a major op, I don't understand how she keeps up with the journo course at NTU. She is struggling to finish up, but here, so am I and I have no excuses! Her motivation is remarkable and her energy even more impressive.

We scrounged some food and wine at a bar round the corner mine and got all caught up.

03.26 FRAGGLE ROCK

2009-03-26T04:27:00.001-04:00

Saw this add in the tube and it immediately reminded me of Fraggle Rock - the 1980s childrens program about a clan of underground working muppets, called Fraggles.

I grew up on that show and it was a dedicated viewer.

I remember distinctly, the character Red, who was a good swimmer. I liked Red. I'm not sure why she was my favourite. Perhaps it was the athleticism. Red is just about all I really remember - and dreams. I'd like to rest my head alongside somebody else's sometime soon and share one...

03.25 OUTDOOR TUBE

2009-03-25T04:25:00.001-04:00

As you might begin to sense from this blog, I spend a lot of time commuting - by foot, by bike, by train and by tube (if I'm not flying across the ocean).

Generally speaking, I avoid the tube at all costs - but today, I found myself waiting at an outdoor station, under a warm, humid, partly sunny sky - and it wasn't all bad.

This is the South Kensington tube station. The structure oposite the rail tracks looks almost like an ancient aquaduct by the angle (and distance) of this picture. It is rather pretty, with the trees edging over and the spots of graffitti here and there. In no time, a bustling train will overwhelm the tranquility of the scene - but it is just that fact that makes this moment worth capturing.

Soon enough I'll be trapped in the confines of another rattling tube train with another bunch of strangers breaking the unwritten prohibition of smelly-food items in the dark underground distracting myself with another heavy hard-cover novel...

03.24 WALK

2009-03-24T04:21:00.003-04:00

Walking home, I saw this advertisement - sponsored by Transport for London, the Mayor of London and the NHS - reminding me that I should indeed be walking home.

'Nearly half of all journeys are walkable.'

03.23 JAM SESSION

2009-03-23T17:21:00.001-04:00

I don't remember the last time I went to church. It might have been with my parents, in Windsor, with the promise of a he-man breakfast at the Maple Leaf afterward...

Visiting a church is like a trip home. Indeed, I think of my religion much like I do my nationality - something I was born into, but by my own volition, have since departed from. But I can always go back and my return, even for a visit, conjures a sense of nostalgia but also some restlessness. I still consider myself Catholic, although not practicing - and my 'religious' identity is something that has formed my person as much as the fact that I'm Canadian. I am conscientous, forgiving and vaguely ascetic as much as I am laid-back, friendly and active - stereotyped characteristics drawn from my Catholic-Canadian upbringing.

On a tip from Barb, who visited St Elthereda during her visit to London last autumn, I made my way to the oldest Catholic church in London. Barb had been especially impressed by the choir and I made sure to attend during a sung service. The church is a quaint, but with elaborate stained glass with strong purple and blue hues. It was a sunny day, and the windows were gleaming.

It was a beautiful setting.

Anyways, at the end of the service I caught the organist, a young, passionate player jamming, in the style of Elton John on the keys. It was intense, and amusing - but sweet.