25/09/14: Working hard/hardly working

Okay. I give up. I give in. I have put up ample resistance but I see now that that was futile. The perceptible shiver that ran through me as I left the house this morning has confirmed my suspicions. It's officially time to resign myself to the inevitable. I've been trying to avoid it for weeks with multitudinous combinations of dresses beneath dresses, shirts over t-shirts, cardigans over sleeveless blouses, midi skirts & socks, denim jacket wedged over four layers beneath. Today, however, I saw the error of my ways (i.e my breath suspended in mid air as I wrestled my keys out of my satchel) & realised that only a pair of opaques would do it. 

It's tights season, folks. 

Ding dong, summer is dead. Well, we all had fun, didn't we? That also isn't to say that there isn't plenty to be looking forward to with the change of the seasons. This recipe for simple ribbollita soup that popped up on my ever-favourite Green Kitchen Stories blog looks perfect for the rainy afternoons we've been having. I can kindly evict the moths that have taken up residence in the majority of the jumpers stashed (read: crammed) into the top of my wardrobe. I also confess that I cannot be too bereft of my summer holidays since soon it, in all honesty, feels as if I'll soon be embarking on another one. In a couple of days time, I will have finished my last week of full time work for two whole years. Yikes.

 It's quite something to see that typed out like that. Flip through any of my recent posts & this won't seem like particularly surprising news seeing as I've been anticipating starting my Masters degree for quite a while now. It's only come Saturday at six o'clock, however, that this prospect becomes all the more, well, real. I realise that I'm very lucky to be able to, not only go back to my studies, but also to be employed by people that realise the value of booksellers being able to study books. I'll be working just two days (two days!) a week from October & I could not be more excited to be able to strike a hopefully healthier work/life balance. Balance is the operative word here. While I'm looking forward to working less & will only be at university for one day a week, I'm also weary of lapsing into the restlessness that characterised the initial weeks of term as an undergraduate before I was overwhelmed with essays. To help ease such anxieties, I've been thinking about what exactly I'm looking forward to as the way in which I wile away my days is significantly different.

Lots of reading (duh) 

I'm looking to really commit myself to keeping on top of the course texts that I've received thus far (hello Joyce, I'm not certain that I've missed you a bit) - I got pretty good at this by the end of my previous degree but I'm hoping for a 95-100% success rate seeing as I've really no excuses. I'm also keen to read around the books that I'm studying to ground myself in the contexts in which they were written, I'm planning to get them most out of my library card over the next couple of years...! I would also like to read increasingly, when & where I can, for pleasure, particularly the short story writers that I've been enjoying lately from old favourites such as Raymond Carver to newbies like Lydia Davis (who I fangirled at at the LRB recently) in the hope that some of their genius might rub off on me in my own creative endeavours. Like I said, a lot of reading to be done, ho ho.

Spending more time in the kitchen

Also evidenced by previous posts, I'm trying new recipes all the time (despite needing more of a spicy hit, this creamy cauliflower passanda with sultanas & whole almonds from Jack Monroe was last night's latest success) but I'd like to spend more time stirring pots that isn't exhaustingly between the hours of seven & nine o'clock (ten if you include the washing up at the end of it all) in the evening. Breakfast has long been my favourite & most neglected meal of the day (a piece of fruit & a cereal bar eaten covertly at the till most days just isn't cutting it) but I'm hoping that that will change as I reclaim the time between waking & dressing. There are so many great vegetarian & vegan breakfast options that I'm keen to try, the Sunday buckwheat porridge with newly-discovered oat milk, cinnamon & banana just there -> is hopefully a sign of things to come. Since having to heartbreakingly give up my subscription to 'Growing Communities' because of university funds, I'm also looking forward to being able to buy my fruit & vegetables seasonally from markets now that their opening hours fit with my schedule. I consider this to be a compromise & one that will hopefully leave me with a few more pennies in my pocket too...!

Making time for more people more often

I've been worried for a while now that I'm getting something of a reputation for being unreliable in my keeping in touch or spending time with people - be it old school friends, my boyfriend or various family members- & that's something I hope will change. While I am working the antisocial (or rather very social) days of Friday & Saturday, I hope that I'll have more energy & thus enthusiasm to make plans & keep them with these important people.

Exploring places near & far

Budget allowing I'd love to see more of London & even further afield in the time that I no longer spend commuting to & from work. While I was very lucky to be able to visit some far flung places with family (see Sorrento & Cornwall, both beautiful parts of the world) this summer, it's been a while since Andrew & I visited anywhere outside of zones 1 & 2, let alone beyond London. The two of us are, however, already planning a couple of days in Brighton for our three year anniversary(!) come November & I love the thought of getting the train to somewhere like Hastings for an afternoon digging through the charity shops & seeking out a slice of cake. I would also like to better acquaint myself with the museums as I find my afternoons free for myself, including a visit to the Horniman & Somerset House, especially seeing as the latter is playing host to an imminent Egon Schiele exhibit. Andrew & I finally made it to the Virginia Woolf exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery on Monday - small but perfectly formed with plenty of art of the period, a handful of beautiful Hoggarth Press first editions & the writers' own walking stick, I was so glad that we were able to cast our eyes over these objects for an hour or two of an afternoon.

I suppose I'll have to let you know how I get on...!

What do you look forward to with the changing of the seasons?

Speak soon - O.

09/09/14: Featured thrifty finds #1

We all agree that chronology is pretty passée now, right? Well that's good because I'm planning on writing about a weekend at home that was about two weeks ago now & I'm playing catch up. After a busy week at work, rolling into Flitwick station was as welcome as ever on Saturday evening. As often happens when planning just about everything under British skies, you're always at the mercy of the weather but it doesn't matter so much when many comforts of home often include sitting in pyjamas in the kitchen eating bowls of cereal & reading back issues of newspaper supplements. This was exactly how I started my couple of days at home, Sunday morning eating slabs of honey & banana on sunflower seed toast while listening to the radio in our cosy kitchen. This aptly set the tone for listening to KCRW's 'Bookworm' podcasts (not far off the revelation of 'The New Yorker's fiction podcasts presented by the dulcet tones of Deborah Treisman) while soaking in the bath, wandering up to the town to buy fresh bread & having a poke around the charity shops up there. I struck lucky with an oversized, burgundy Topshop jumper than I am already imagining being layered over turtlenecks what with the changing of the seasons.

Having gotten back late the night before & lazily ordered takeaway curry to drink with red wine, me, my Mum, sister & Grandy went out for dinner the next night & were home by nine to watch the DVD of 'The Grand Budapest Hotel' that I had not-so-subtle-y bought Andrew for his birthday & swiftly borrowed myself. It was my Mum's first glimpse into Wes Anderson's fantastical world & I was so keen for her to love it, as she did, from the sumptuous styling of that sweetshop hotel between the wars to Ralph Fiennes' articulate expletives, I'm already all too ready to watch it all over again. Undeterred by cloudy skies on the Monday morning, we resolved to head to local town Olney to try the run of the charity shops there. Thrilled to have dug out a copy of Jean Rhys' 'Wide Sargasso Sea' early on (I have read almost everything else of hers since they're so slim & have studied 'Jane Eyre' on four separate occasions but have unforgiveably never read 'Wide Sargasso Sea') we holed ourselves up in our favourite tea room to miraculously avoid the temptations of a slab of cake & wrap our hands around hot chocolate, tea & an elderflower fizz between us. 

Understandably crestfallen at the next two shops on our list being closed for the day, our determination was renewed as we chanced upon the last at the end of the high street with twenty minutes of browsing left to do. Several turns of the dressing room later, I emerged with an armful of astonishingly well preserved vintage ahead of starting a new term at university - a long length black cord skirt with a slit up the front for £5, a long button-up paisley-esque patterned dress with all its golden buttons intact & a fully lined skirt for £9.50 & my woollen, tomato red Jaeger jacket of dreams for just £7.50. Doubtless once part of a mean twin set, it fits just perfectly & hopefully the shoulder pads are just subtle enough to segue its way into my wardrobe with patterned midi skirts & loafers. Last to be balanced atop that pile was a new copy of Jeanette Winterson's memoir 'Why Be Happy When You You Could Be Normal?' that has been recommended to me endlessly & which I've been keeping an eye out for for a long while. It's obviously off-limits for the meantime but that didn't mean that I didn't sneak a few pages alongside Miranda July in my final bath of the weekend.

 Alas it wasn't long until I was being waved off at the train station, precariously teetering on the platform with a plethora of tote bags stuffed to the brim with bargains & promises to return again soon. The time in which I've been back in the city has, however, proved that my spirit of discovery never leaves me & I sit typing this looking lovingly at the most beautiful blushed rose coloured silk blouse that I've just bought on Broadway Market for a fiver. Lucky, lucky me. 

Have you had any secondhand success lately?

Speak soon - O.

11/09/14: Leaving the house lately

Whether you know me in the real world or through that of Twitter or Instagram, you'll know that I often joke about never leaving the house. If only you knew just how true that actually is. We're all creatures of habit, sure, but I'm more of a homebody than most & in between work, food shopping & mornings in bed with novels & a pot of tea, I'm rarely to be found elsewhere. Especially elsewhere outside. This week, however, I made a series of very worthwhile exceptions to that not-so-much-rule-as-routine. After work & a quick dinner of new potatoes, puy lentils & swiss chard sauteed in garlic & chilli flakes (my latest go-to dish), Andrew & I headed to something of an old haunt of ours, namely 'The Garage' in Islington for a rock show. A math rock show, that is. Settled in front of one of two support bands with lukewarm pints in hand, we eagerly awaited the San Diego duo of 'El Ten Eleven' that were soon to set the whole venue bouncing heads with their ridiculously infectious, instrumental guitar music that rapidly switched time signatures & pedals but never got any less awesome. I bankrupted myself in my first year of university going to gigs every night of the week & while I can't say that I follow the scene with anything like the same commitment (my other 'Blogger' entries are mostly for my regular review postings of live shows & EPs), I still think that there's nothing like live music if you're looking for a good time. Feeling like real old fogies leaving the venue with ears ringing ('I feel as if that was definitely too loud'...'Naaah, I think we're definitely just getting old, y'know') we wound our familiar route through Highbury Corner & back home in time for bed almost before midnight. Well, I suppose some things do change.

I didn't need an exceptional amount of sleep for the next day given that I was so giddy with excitement anyway because that Friday evening I was due to see none other than Karl Ove Knausgaard speak at the London Review Bookshop (or rather St. George's Church just around the corner) I've raved about this Norwegian author enough on this blog (see, err, any 'literary lately' post for a mention) & I would similarly highly recommend that any bookish types sign up to the LRB newsletter for first news of events they're holding. I, quelle surprise, bought my ticket as the email landed in my inbox precisely mid-bicycle ride in Padstow, Cornwall, knowing that I would rearrange pretty much anything to allow for my participation in such an evening. Excitedly perched on the steps of St. George's at half past six, it wasn't long until I was settled in a seat pawing through my goody bag (kudos to the LRB for knowing that back issues of literary journals & branded pencils go down a treat with bookish types) & craning my neck to avoid the ponytail in front that was obscuring my view of the author himself. While the pairing of a heavily (dreamily also, I feel I should mention) accented Norwegian & a similarly broad Glaswegian wasn't perhaps perfect, it was rapt attention that I listened to the admittedly little that Karl Ove had to say. I wasn't disappointed by the author's lack of cohesive answers to questions asked of him & the impression he gave was actually in keeping with the books - an honest & careful desire not to construct any pretence with which to frame his books or, indeed, his personality. I was very happy that I decided to stick around & chanced upon him perched behind the signing table just before heading for the tube later on. He very kindly dedicated the two tattered volumes that I handed him to my name that his publisher had written on a post-it 'for spellings', scribbling the date & city in the top right-hand corner. I skipped through Bloomsbury Square afterwards & found myself too overwhelmed with the heady immediacy of having met the face on the cover to read my book for a couple of days. Finally reopening it on a train platform at the beginning of the next week, I found myself consuming it whole once more.

Inevitably coming down with a change-of-the-seasons cold, it should be considered fairly miraculous that I made it out on Saturday night. More miraculous still was the amount of fun that I had as a result. First stopping at home after work for beyond delicious leftover 'proper chilli' from Anna Jones 'A Modern Way to Eat' (I am hopeless if I skip a meal, truly), Andrew & I schlepped our way over to my old friend's Emily's new house in East Finchley & soon began to catch up with slovenly souls that had been there BBQ-ing (i.e drinking) all afternoon. A group of us were soon bus stop bound & wound up at 'The Boogaloo' just before midnight where we stayed until gone two o'clock, dancing to the Beach Boys, Aretha Franklin & other classics from the 1950s & 1960s. The next day left the two of us not feeling particularly clever so shrugging on plaid shirts, we went to 'E5 Bakehouse' in search of coffee & a loaf to accompany my very favourite vegan baked beans from Ava of Guac & Roll's recipe & a heap of heal-me spinach to conclude a busy & brilliant week.

Care to share your ultimate hangover cure? 

Still, not sure that I'll need one for a while, phew.

Speak soon - O.