Poppy Day

Remembrance PoppyNovember the eleventh is coming up. It’s an important day for me every year, because it’s the Brother’s birthday. It’s also an important day because it’s Remembrance Day.

I have a fairly strong stance on the British armed forces, as I’ve mentioned before. However, that does not extend to Remembrance Day. I don’t think there is another day so important in many ways, because if there is one thing society needs to get a hold of, it is our shared history. We’re becoming more and more a global community and in order to do that one of the principle things we need to work on is ending territorial conflicts. The 11th of November represents the remembrance of one of the most devastating territorial conflicts in history, and that is undoubtedly important to commemorate.

The issue I have this year, is that I read this article. To explain it briefly, in recent years the meaning of the poppy seems to have changed. People aren’t wearing it in sad remembrance of those who died in conflicts past, and hoping that no more are sent to die. Instead they’re wearing it to celebrate the troops, support the current political campaigns that we’re involved with and sort of suggest that war might be a good thing.

Let me make one thing clear. I am not against any individual in the armed forces. I’m not against the work that they do in the cause of human rights. I am not against those individuals who have gone out and used their skills wisely by joining the armed forces. I am certainly not against those who’ve died in the line of duty, and I’m not against the families of those currently at war.

I am against the way that the armed forces are deployed by our government, among others, to facilitate capital gain at the cost of other nation’s freedom. I am against the needless deaths of members of the armed forces through conflict in territories which do not need occupation. And I am not happy to wear a symbol which glorifies that, rather than bemoans it (which is what the poppy should signify).

The poppy was the first flower to begin growing again on the soldiers graves in Flanders, after the First World War. It was chosen as a symbol because it represents the countless deaths from violence. Please don’t wear it to encourage more.

Creepy Treats

For our Halloween party I put together a little menu of creepy eats. I made most things, but Boyfriend had a large hand in the grand finale. I did my best to make the food as creepy as possible (mozzarella in the shape of the spiderweb on the pizza, for example).

The menu was as follows:
Spiderweb pizza (veggie and meaty)
Goats cheese and caramelised onion tart
Goopy guacamole (and tortilla chips)
Poisonous Pesto Pasta

Halloween food

and for dessert

Mini tangerine pumpkins
Pumpkin pie

AND (drum roll)

The wicked witch’s cottage from Hansel and Gretel

Haunted House

Complete with its own fondant pumpkin

Pumpkin

Halloween

Firstly, let me share my favourite Halloween song with you: Danse Macabre. This video by See Me Fly Productions is prettymuch just a brilliant (and pleasingly camp) representation of it. Also for those of you scratching your heads, it’s the music from Jonathan Creek

So Boyfriend and I hosted a Halloween party. I love Halloween, because I like dressing up, and if you have a party then you get to extend the dressing up to your house. What’s not to like?

The theme we chose was “Fairytales gone bad”, basically due to our now fanatic love of Once Upon A Time (as expressed in this post). Following along from that, I decided to be Gretel and decorate the front room like the inside of the gingerbread house. We decorated our dining room like a haunted forest. It looked like this:

Halloween collage

And here is me, dressed up

Sally as Gretel

You’ll see that I wrapped my wrists in bandage, because in my gone-bad version of Hansel and Gretel, it wasn’t the witch who made it into the oven, it was Hansel. When Gretel tried to pull him out she burnt her arms and now she’s stuck working for the witch, and has frankly gone a bit mental (see the stare above. I am an ACTOR)

All in all it was a fantastic time. I’m dedicating the next post to my Halloween food.

The Wonder and the Marvel

I miss going to see shows. I’m involved in three right now, directing ‘The Elixir of Love’ by Gaetano Donizetti for LUU OperaSoc, producing ¡Sublime Descisión! by Miguel Mihura with the Spanish department, and being props master for LUU MT’s ‘Jekyll and Hyde’. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love being involved, but there is something completely different about going, and spending 3 hours of your life wrapped up in someone else’s creation. Honestly, it’s magical.

I was lucky enough to bag a ticket to see ‘Death in Venice’ by Britten at the Leeds Grand Theatre a few weeks ago. My friend dropped out because of another commitment, and I happened to be free, so along I went. This year marks 60 since Britten died, and so the Opera world has been slightly a-buzz with it all, but I was really just there to see a good show. And that’s what I got. Bits of the scenery/setting were a bit “concept” for my liking, but overall it left me blown away.

Benjamin Britten
Looking a bit grumpy for such a wonderful guy

After the show I got to thinking about how much I miss seeing things at the theatre. For my 21st Boyfriend took me to London for the weekend, we stayed in a hotel that was far posher than us (and we didn’t care) and we went to see ‘The Lion King’. It was one of the best things ever. So was ‘Wicked’ when I went to see that. In fact, I can’t think of a show I’ve seen EVER that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy.

I just wish I had more time.

It’s raining posts, hallelujah!

So once again, it’s been a while since I posted. There are a number of reasons for that as you will see, but what you principally need to know is that despite not having been writing for the last month, I’ve been thinking.

That can only mean one thing.

Yes, a ridiculous posting session where I ignore boyfriend for the rest of the night and he gets really annoyed is in order.

Let’s begin at the beginning, with a little life news. In the last month, I have:

Had several meetings with my supervisor, and learned loads about Andalusian poetry
Run 6 Opera rehearsals
Organised the start of our Spanish play (with help)
Had a visit from the family
Made a lot of food
Had a Halloween party
Listened to a bunch of radio
Got a new workspace
Played Skyrim to ignore the fireworks

Sweeney Todd

A group of my my friends who graduated with me this summer have come back up to Leeds this weekend to go and see Sweeney Todd, because it’s on at the West Yorkshire Playhouse.

Unfortunately I convinced myself that there was a cool poetry event at the same time, and so I didn’t get myself a ticket. I was wrong about the cool poetry event, so now I just can’t go.  However, we did all meet up for a drink last night, and as an apology for not being able to join in I painted my nails in Sweeney Todd style.

Now don’t worry, this isn’t going to become a nail blog (not that there is anything wrong with nail blogs, I’m just not made of time) but I was really pleased with the results, and the internet is for sharing, so here we go. Photos were provided by boyfriend using his fancy new camera, and we tried some exciting props.
Sweeney Todd nails 1
Sweeney Todd nails 2
Sweeney Todd nails 3
Sweeney Todd nails 4
 
The last one definitely makes my hand look like a claw, but never mind, I think they look cool and I’m proud of my effort. I’m not the most artistic of people, so doing things like this is always a risk. Hope you like them as much as I do.

Great British Blog Fail

Yes, I’m sorry! I’m a terrible blogger. Already I’ve slipped in my attempt to blog regularly.I’ve also slipped in my attempt to exercise every day. I was fully back into the swing of Jillian Michaels and hating myself because of the pain and the general horribleness and then somehow I just stopped and it was so easy.

And so I naturally have taken a while to come back here, because if I blog again then I probably have to exercise again and I know that’s not going to be fun.

Here are some things for you to know:

1) I baked a cake! It was a lemon drizzle and I’ll post the recipe at the end of the post. We accidentally ate it all so I don’t have a picture, but don’t worry, I’ll draw one!

2) I’m directing an opera! I directed the LUU Opera Society production of “Cinderella” earlier in the year and it was amazing (genuinely the best thing I’ve ever done in my life) and now I’m doing another one. It’s called The Elixir of Love, it’s by Gaetano Donizetti and this is our poster:

All credit for this goes to our wonderful designer (who is an expert at arty things, unlike me, as you can see on her blog http://lj-dfga.blogspot.co.uk/)

3) I have a new favourite blog! I’m really disliking how many exclamation marks I’ve used in this post because I don’t consider myself to be an exclamative person, but this particular point really deserves it. Glenn from Great British Bake-Off has a blog. It’s http://glenncosby.co.uk and I fully advise you all get over there. He’s clearly just a purely lovely guy and it’s so pleasing.

Now. Recipe. You’re welcome, sorry if it goes wrong, a lot of it was guessing…
Lemon and Ginger Drizzle Cake

Ingredients:
100g unsalted butter
90g salted butter
3 eggs
100g caster sugar
100g golden granulated sugar
200g self-raising flour
1tbsp ground ginger
1tsp ground nutmeg 
lemon juice
fresh ginger

Glaze:
Icing sugar
Lemon juice

1) Cream together all the butter (both kinds) and all the sugar.
2) Add the eggs one at a time.
3) Add a few spoons of lemon juice. 
4) Sieve in the flour, ginger and nutmeg.
5) Add the fresh ginger chopped finely or grated (or crushed through a garlic press seemed to work!)
6) Bake for 50 minutes at 180 degrees.
7) Mix lemon juice and icing sugar to taste and drizzle it over the top. 

Oh and I said a picture? Here goes.

There I go again see…exclamation marks. Maybe it’s time for bed.

The Spain Diaries (Part 3)

La FamiliaAs you no doubt remember, when I began writing this blog it was because I went on a year abroad to Morocco (and couldn’t be bothered to e-mail every day).

One of the big features of my time in Morocco was my amazing Moroccan family. I called them Mr Aziz, Madam Halima, BMB (big Moroccan brother) and BMS (big Moroccan sister). I’m still in touch with them, though not as often as I’d like given how important they’ve been in my life and to my development as a traveler and linguist. BMB is now married to a lovely lady and while I was in Spain I hopped across the strait of Gibraltar to go to their second wedding.

This blog post however, is not about that (I’ll cover that later). This is about my family in Spain. When I got there I had the option of trying to find a flat for myself for 3 months (all of which were tiny and hugely expensive), get myself a room in a flat of students (which is the norm there, as Granada is a big student destination), or find a family. The school, as in Morocco, offered the option of finding a “host family”, but I decided I could probably do it on my own. And I did.

I found Olga and Mario. They live in a lovely basement flat, about 3 minutes from the language centre with their dog Pepón. My room was lovely, the kitchen was well appointed, and we had a nice little courtyard. I sometimes sat and watched TV with them, but they also didn’t mind if I was out and about (and sometimes coming in all hours hilariously drunk, but that is also a story for another time). Living with them was amazing.

Like my lovely Moroccan family, living with Olga and Mario really brightened up my time in Spain, and gave me a very unique experience which I am so grateful for. No-one else lived with a family and they missed out because there is nothing like have a 5 year old to instantly love you and want to watch TV with you, and there is nothing like having a new Auntie figure to help you when you really need a fluent Spanish speaker. Even before I moved in with Olga I had some issues with my Spanish phone, and all I had to do was text her and she’d sorted it.

Not to mention that when Boyfriend came over to stay (twice, once at the start and once at the end) she was happy for him to stay with us, which I know most people wouldn’t be.

Honestly, if you’re going to live abroad, it’s all about finding a new family. You WILL have a better time.

 

Short and Late

This is a late one. I’m not at all back into the blogging mindset, and just as I was about to fall asleep just now I realised I haven’t posted in ages. So here are some late-night thoughts from me.1) My house makes weird noises at night, but not during the day.
2) Google Chrome browser doesn’t believe that “blog” is a word. Or “Blogger”. Which is run by Google.
3) Made in Chelsea is a ridiculous program (yes, I watch a lot of junk TV)
4) I have a short attention span.
5) Tomatoes would be so much nicer without seeds and juice to go everywhere. Surely that’s a thing we can breed out? Somehow?
6) It’s probably bed-time for me.

Night all.

A stunning televisual experience

I’m talking, of course, about Once Upon a Time. It’s a great program as far as I’m concerned, and I know that fairly soon the 3rd season is starting, along with the 1st season of the”Alice in Wonderland” spin off. It seemed am opportune time to tell you all about my love for all things fairytale, including this fantastic series.

I grew up in a house where stories were very important.  My mum is a librarian, so books are a big part of her (and consequently my) life. Even before I could read, or hard the patience to be read to, both my parents would invent stories for me before bed.  My Dad’s stories always revolved around Elmer the Elephant, the wonderful patchwork Elephant created by David McGee.
Those stories were my own personal fairy stories when was younger, and they were wonderful.  As I got older my parents showed me into a whole world of amazing fairy tales, myths and legends.  Aside from Hans Christian Andersen and The Brothers Grimm, I was introduced to the world of Indian folklore (stemming from my whole family’s time in India) when I was given the book”Seasons of Splendour”. My favourite story was the one about Dodi and Doda, a brother and sister who showed the difference between rich and poor,  and cruelty and kindness.
Later I moved on from European fairy tales and Indian stories to Greek and Roman myths and legends. At the age of about 12 I was obsessed with tales of Herculean feats of bravery and strength, and Gods and Men. My Grandmother bought me simplified versions of the Oddessey and the Illyad which I devoured.
The final stage of my fairy tale obsession is still going on.  I’m always looking for clever reworkings of my favorite stories,  be it on TV programs like Once Upon A Time, or in books.  The indomitable Terry Pratchett is always an amazing read,  as is C. S. Lewis, and Lewis Carroll.
So I will deeply enjoy the new seasons of my program, and if you haven’t watched it I urge you to try it.
Have a hydra too on me.