12/12/14: Dishing up daily #1

I, like almost everyone else I know, am dosing up. Supping at a honey & lemon while considering a purchase of vitamin C & zinc tablets (the latest in a line of 'if you want to avoid getting ill you should...') As the lurgy inevitably closes in & essay planning reaches - excuse the pun - fever pitch, I still try to take comfort in cooking snug, wintry dishes that also contribute to the armour of my immune system. I've been taking full advantage of the weather having finally taken a colder turn (although I am wearing all of my clothes now so I'd rather it didn't get any colder) to cook up plenty of soups, stews & pies. Too many afternoons spent rattling a Heinz tin to retrieve the last cubed carrot, I recently decided that there was really no excuse for me not to have attempted to make soup from scratch.

Not only would I have the knowledge of every pinch that went into it but the ritual of my biggest pot blipping away for an hour or so on the hob appealed to me - roughly chopping root vegetables, crumbling stock cubes into boiling water & buttering bread to dunk into the puréed pulses, all while I could sit happily reading at the kitchen table. Lately I've tried the earthy celeriac & apple soup from my much-loved 'A Modern Way To Eat' by Anna Jones - initially just a little worried that I'd made an oversized batch of apple sauce ('the problem being...?' I hear you cry), I actually found the that sweetness of the apples balanced the liquorice undertones of the not-exactly-glamorous celeriac, topped off with an indulgent splash of brown butter & a handful of toasted hazelnuts. Mostly due to my mother's completely unfounded hatred of most root vegetables, I'd never tried celeriac before but it's certainly something I'd happily cook again, shredded into mash or made into soup.

Once all of the leftovers had been eaten up, I set about making a second batch of soup, this time from a recipe on one of my more recent discoveries in terms of food blogs, a delectably deep curried butternut squash soup from 'A Thought for Food'. I'm always looking for new ways of using butternut squash that isn't my usual polenta-crusted wedges served with veggie burritos & or folded into a split lentil dhaal like this favourite from Lisa of 'That's Food Darling'. Chopped & simmered in a generous selection of spices, the simplicity of the recipe surprised me in its depth of flavour: sweet, creamy & warming all at once. Topped with a dollop of tangy creme fraiche & a scattering of roasted seeds really made it for me not only on the day but also the two following.

 Spurred on by celeriac (not a phrase I thought I'd use all too often), it was more root vegetable recipes that I was seeking for the rest of the week which lead me to this recipe from, yes, Anna Jones & to the domination of my fridge by the three punnets of mushrooms, bundles of carrots, parsnips & swede that this pie called for. I spent almost three hours peeling, chopping & grating, boiling, blanching & baking but suffice to say that it was a labour of love. This rosti is essentially red onions, chestnut mushrooms, carrots & swede simmered in the creme fraiche I managed to resist spooning into my soup, white wine, wholegrain honeyed mustard & an amazing vegetarian alternative to Lea & Perrins' that Ava of 'Guac & Roll'  put me onto by the name of Mushroom Gravy. Praise be! This unsuspecting sauce is already making its way into toppings for cheese on toast & chilli non carne shortly & it something of a revelation for me. All of this was crowned with a crisp, thatched topping of grated parsnips that looked good & tasted even better.

I was so pleased with this last helping (no doubt evidenced in my continual 'it's alright this, isn't it?' nudges directed towards my boyfriend, ahem hem) that I'm considering making it for the Christmas dinner that I have in London before heading home. I've decided on lots of roasted vegetables & vegetarian stuffing of some description but my confidence has wavered in the face of researching nut roast recipes & Laura from 'Kitsunetsuki Kitchen' has presented a game-changer in the form of her mustard mash & veggie sausages combination. So many decisions to be made..!

Until then, I've still got a lot of Camus criticism to be reading & so I'll be sticking to stews & microwavable leftovers (hello tonight's dinner) until the foreseeable future - I've keen to try this healing looking curried yellow split pea soup from 'Sprouted Kitchen', Yotam Ottlolenghi's new take on the most festive of vegetables in his brussel sprout risotto(!) & Ava's stuffed sweet potatoes, all ideal hibernation food while it's not looking especially tempting outside.

On that note, I think my hot water bottle is due a refill & time for another serving of that mushroom & parnsip rosti pie.

What've you been dishing up lately? Any nut roast recipes you'd like to share?

Speak soon - O.

03/12/14: Three days in Brighton & three years together!

Phew. 03/12/14. Almost struggling to believe what I've typed up there ^ is accurate & I hope that I'm not the only one on whom that has snuck up. As much as I love Christmas (a lot,by the way!) I feel that I am chasing my tail at the, err, tail end of the year trying to fit a lot into the festive season that won't wait until new year i.e present buying, meeting up with friends as well as essay planning & helping my Mum prepare to move house, at long last. Before the c-word, however, Andrew & I here at 'The Beet Generation' always have another celebration to look forward to during this season which is our anniversary. This time around it has been three whole years(!) & having not had the chance for a holiday together in a long while, we promised that we would endeavour to make the most of the occasion this year & get away for a few days. Just shy of the county of my birth, less than two hours from London & with the faded romance of a seaside town, we soon settled on Brighton & booked a couple of nights at Snooze in Kemptown. This darling little B&B was recommended to me by a friend & it couldn't have been a better hideaway with the most beautiful bedroom, friendly staff, big veggie breakfasts & just ten minutes from the bustle of the lanes nearby. 

Trudging through the rain from the train station on the Sunday afternoon, the two of us were all too happy to hole ourselves up in our mustard yellow room for most of the afternoon, jumping on the bed & picnicking on the carpet before resolving to walk along the seafront before dinner. Despite the persistent rain, we were both still enchanted by the sight of the string lights of the pier leading out to sea & walked the length of the parade until our ears were numb & we resolved to head to one of the pubs that I'd scouted out in advance - The Constant Service up in Hanover. It was a small establishment strung with fairy lights, playing motown on vinyl & with plenty on draught to keep us entertained so we bundled up on a sofa for a very contented couple of hours. Grumbling stomachs reminded us of the need for dinner & we ambled back to Kemptown at about eight o'clock for a couple of bean burgers at The Thomas Kemp before half-drunkenly falling into our (very comfortable) bed come midnight.  

The two of us were doubtless relieved to wake up to bright, sunny skies on Monday morning as it was our only full day in Brighton & we were up at half past eight to make the most of the day (& the inclusive, delicious breakfast) The seafront was significantly more serene at eleven o'clock & we strolled the length of the beach skimming stones & snapping photographs of the big wheel & even bigger seagulls of which I am deathly afraid. Neither of us could resist the pull of the pier so as soon as we judged our breakfasts to be sufficiently digested, it was onto the dance mats & grabber machines (so many ten pences lost that day) to try & fail to win me a teddy bear. Luckily I'm just fine with the one I've got (hi Ted!) Stocking up on postcards & the mandatory sticks of rock, we ambled up to the West Pier & in search of Small Batch Coffee, instead we stumbled upon Idyea where we stopped for a lunch of candied beetroot & sweetcorn fritters (no mention of the moment when I dropped my iPhone straight into my root mash while trying to Instagram it, please Andrew) Luckily we knew that nothing could curb our appetite for the highlight of the day which was our dinner reservation at The Chilli Pickle - a couple of swift mulled ciders between the hotel & the restaurant later, we tucked into deep-fried cauliflower florets, garlic naan, masala dosa, pureed spinach & peas, mushroom rice & more chutneys than I can name. All full of flavour, texture & evidently love, we ate with relish & came away full of awe &, err, curry.

Alas the rain returned on our last day in the seaside town but that did give us an excuse to hop between various shops, from To Be Worn Again where I bought Andrew a psychedelic patterned vintage shirt by way of anniversary present, Immediate where Andrew bought a suede, zipped up cardigan, The Flour Pot Bakery where I bought a small, seeded loaf of sourdough by way of souvenir (my only purchase, how telling!), Resident where Andrew finally tracked down Nirvana's 'In Utero' remastered & the legendary Snoopers' Paradise where we spent hours rummaging & deciding on our poses for the inevitable photobooth photos that were to follow. It was with heavy hearts that we made our wound our way back to the station at seven o'clock that evening & clambered onto an exceedingly slow train to London but we were both grateful for the opportunity to take a couple of days outside of the everyday when being together & appreciative of one another can get a little lost under other things. I hope that the both of keep a tight hold of that sense of serenity on the seafront as we go into a new year. 
So happy anniversary, lover & here's to the rest of 'em.

How do you like Brighton?

I'll be back soon with an update as to what I've been dishing up lately (other than mince pies!)

Speak soon - O.

20/11/14: Homeward bound

Home comforts have rarely been more welcome than when I was their grateful recipient for the first few days at the beginning of this week. Following a particularly croaky Sunday lunch with lots of family that I've not seen for a long while - alongside plenty of red wine, vegetable lasagne & flowers bought for the host at an uncharacteristically quiet Columbia Road en route - I accompanied the Bedfordshire contingent of our clan back home for a couple of days. Rolling into bed early that night with an almighty sore throat & the beginnings of a head cold, I nonetheless had a good feeling about the ability of home as a healer. The next morning meant a warm croissant in the bath with Beckett (the reading I have been grudgingly undertaking for university with very mediocre results i.e 40 pages of a mandatory 140) followed by a bracing couple of hours zipped & tucked into my old wax jacket & scarf walking dogs in the woods not far from home. It was over to my Gran's house for brew after lunch then back to the homestead to settle by the fire for the evening & catch up on newspaper supplements while my Mum got on with her Christmas knitting in earnest ('tis almost the season) 

Tuesday was much of the same, honey granola eaten while perched on the edge of the bath waiting for it to fill & then a walk up into the town for a viewing of a cottage that my Mum has since bought(!) Mum has been trying to sell our house for a long while & just when she'd resigned herself to giving up again until the spring, everything fell into place. The new house is going to be much smaller than the one that most of us have inhabited for the last eleven years but change is good as is the pretty little courtyard garden, low ceilings (hello '70s futon in my room) & the fire being moved to the kitchen so we can keep warm while the kettle boils. For now it's a case of making the most of our very last Christmas in our current house & taking stock of the multitude of memories that have been made there. The afternoon was predictably spent secondhand shopping where I was lustily eyeing various homewares from wicker magazine racks to mid-century mirrors but was recurrently reminded of our bedroom here being at full capacity to say the least. I was already back in London by the time that offers were accepted & confirmed but our family had an anticipatory toast to the news alongside my favourite 'proper chilli' from Anna Jones' 'A Modern Way To Eat' that I had promised to make for my Mum for a long while. I was glad to have chosen a one-pot dish for the evening as its preparation was simple & stress free & I was so glad that my Mum - who has never knowingly eaten quinoa, bulgur wheat, black-eyed beans or puy lentils - sung its praises throughout the meal & beyond. 

I've been back in London for a couple of days, coughing & spluttering my way through aforementioned Beckett lecture, making a note of upcoming festive plans (work Christmas party is a'callin') & mostly feeling better. Oh & then there's the research for mine & Andrew's three year anniversary trip to Brighton this upcoming weekend...! We've not been away together for a little while so we can't wait to check into our B&B on Sunday & eat our way through the reams of vegetarian/vegan restaurants I've made a note of.  I'll of course be back to blog it for you soon but...

Have you any tips of your own for the seaside town? 

Have you been similarly snottily afflicted of late? 

Speak soon - O. 

13/11/14: Woollen wayfaring & my first belated blanket

It had been a busy week this one just gone. I was undertaking the most ambitious & productive reading week since my studies began which meant five days of work experience at a newspaper followed by a weekend of working at the bookshop. Looking ahead to a seven day week, perhaps I should have anticipated my being slumped against a Northern Line tube carriage just a touch tearful come Sunday morning. It still felt good to have made the most of the time & actually prove that I'm not as habitually lazy as I had come to fear that I, err, was. One of the best things about busy weeks is also the not-so-busy weeks that often follow, when the focus of my frequent to-do lists shifts from dashes to Tesco Metro for milk on the way home & topping up my Oyster card to replying to long emails from friends & completing long-lost projects such as this.

Crochet isn't something that I've talked a lot about on this little blog (& I understand that it doesn't correlate exactly with the books & broccoli manifesto that I put forward since the name change) but I feel as if it's earned its place. Unlike some of my crafty friends, crochet isn't something that I've inherited as part of a family tradition, far from it in fact as I, modern gal that I am, taught myself from a series of YouTube videos, building up a tester swatch of stitches that I still hold dear. Although it seems a while ago now, I suspect that I took up my hook while looking for distractions from university work but it's a hobby that has really stuck. 

The first Christmas since I took it up I perhaps predictably crocheted woollen scarves for everyone, family and friends alike, as my confidence grew. Soon I was fast making my way through the pattern index of numerous creative bloggers & pledged my allegiance to Ravelry, through which I was able to find patterns to make things like this amazing crochet turban (it's so cosy) Soon enough I was making crochet collars, triangle bunting & floral coasters in numerous hues & with varying chunkiness, likely enough to stock, say, an Etsy shop. I put a lot of time & heart into my short-lived Etsy venture 'SewKitschCrochet' but alas sales weren't spectacular & my time was increasingly taken up with other things (like the university work that I had been, ahem, avoiding) I hung up my crochet hook for a while but not before my Grandy had lodged one last order. She wanted a crochet blanket comprised of the larger squares that I'd tried out & shown her (this brilliant pattern here, if you're curious!) My Grandy promised that she would be the one to put them together (the least fun of any crafty project, I think fellow crocheters will agree) & I said I'd do it, happy to receive a bag full of  wool & something to keep in mind over the coming weeks.

Well, weeks soon turned into months turned into I-don't-know-how-long. There was an initial burst of enthusiasm as I got to grips with the pattern but that soon waned as I wasn't used to the sheer repetitiveness of making something on such a scale. 21 white, 21 blue. The blanket was mostly forgotten about although it occasionally cropped up in a family joke e.g 'Liv'll probably have finished that blanket before she tidies up that bedroom, ha ha ha'. When I went back to university recently & found myself uncharacteristically organised with my course reading, crochet seemed like a great way to fill the gap again. I worried that I would've lost the stitches, that I would encounter the same boredom. Thankfully, not so. Determined to finish it before Christmas as the best of surprises for my Grandy, I diligently picked up my hook again a month or so ago & watched as the tally of the squares went up & up. 21 white, 21 blue - ta dah! Here she is & ahead of schedule too.

I've always thought that there are many ways to chart progress - updating your CV with work experience, for example or endlessly photographing your dinners, of which I'm also guilty - but there's something special about wool. You can hold it in your hands, up to the light that it stencils, feel the stitches beneath your fingers, see where you've tiredly woven in the ends, where the edges are wonky. This blanket is by no means perfect. The squares are different sizes - large, loving, loose stitches & tiny, taut ones - some are lop-sided, others evidently earlier than others. That's the best thing about this blanket. It holds within it the last two years of my creative life & will soon go onto my Grandy's bed, at long last.

Now to keep it wrapped up until Christmas...!

Do you crochet? What've you been crafting lately?

Speak soon - O.

02/11/14: 'The Beet Generation' begins!

I think we're likely all full of contradictions if we're being honest. I've always been meticulously organised yet hopelessly forgetful, full of love for my family yet prone to my brother's provocation, spontaneously impulsive yet frustratingly indecisive. The latest development on this little blog of mine particularly concerns the last of this trio. It was while peeling beetroots in the kitchen one evening after work (for this particularly tasty Greek dip for a dinner party, if you must know!) that I joked off-handedly to Andrew that it was a wonder that no one had started a blog called 'The Beet Generation'. We're continually bandying puns between us, cool couple that we are, but I felt as if this particular turn of phrase might have something in it. Full of enthusiasm for a whole-hearted rebrand, I soon discovered that Blogger had other ideas, or rather that the person who had already nabbed the URL didn't because it lead me to a site that hadn't had a post for years. Hum. I abandoned the idea for a while before it came back to me this afternoon with a more determined intention for this blog to represent what I really wanted to write about (& an altogether funkier URL to boot...!)

I didn't have a particular idea of what I wanted this blog to be about when I started it & I can't say that that has changed much. I only ever wanted somewhere to document my day-to-day life, to even take a step away from it to hold certain moments in my hands a while, & hopefully reach out to a community that I was already invested in from the scores of brilliant blogs that make up my bookmarked pages. As it happens, this place has also become one where I can express my interests in books & cookery as worthwhile ways to spend my time & since I do spend so much of it propped up against my oven with a book in hand, I thought that I should do the same here.

So hello & welcome to 'The Beet Generation' where I hope you'll come to read about poetry & puy lentils, Ginsberg & guacamole, Burroughs &, well, beets as well as, well, what's going on with me & with you too. 

For now, I've got a butternut squash roasting & the Sunday papers to get through.

Check back for what's been served up on my table (or, more often, duvet) lately & more news of that unavoidable reading list, reading week or no reading week.

Speak soon - O. 

23/10/14: Life lately #3

Life has slowed down a lot here lately & not only in terms of the frequency of posts over here at 'The Beet Generation' (previously 'Paisley & Peeptoes') Considerably fewer seven thirty starts & miserable commutes, considerably more cups of tea & pages of reading at my desk until gone eight o'clock. While I'm still in a period of transition between a five & two day week, I'm being sure to take the time to appreciate just how lucky I am to be able to read Proust for three full days & feel the same invigoration as I write sheets & sheets of A4 notes on secondary sources (a method I can wholeheartedly recommend if you too have been banging your head against Nietzsche's 'Birth of Tragedy' for the best part of the week) All the same, I've been trying not to succumb to cabin fever too much & have had a few outings in the last couple of weeks. Here're some highlights (alongside mandatory Instagram mugshots) when I've managed to leave my pyjamas neatly tucked at the end of my bed & thumb on some shoes other than my furry moccasins.

Eating:

Emboldened by adventures in making my own pesto from scratch & regular batches of granola, as I admitted that the weather was finally turning towards autumn, there was only one thing on my mind...SOUP! A fortuitous encounter with my very favourite 'readers' recipe swap' in the weekly 'Guardian Cook' involving ever-faithful tinned tomatoes seemed to conspire in my first foray into some very messy hand blending last week during a leisurely lunchtime. I followed this super simple recipe for sun-dried tomato & walnut soup with plenty of texture from chopped walnuts & just the right amount of kick from the mustard & coriander seeds, absolutely 11/10. This was followed by Kitsunetsuki's milder curried cauliflower & coconut soup that made up for in flavour what it lacked in the former's particularly decadent                                                                                                  appearance.

Reading:

While I've been really enjoying having the time to sit & read for concentrated periods at home (ordinarily under several blankets & with a half empty packet of raw cashews somewhere nearby) my lifelong habit of always having a bookish companion while journeying prevails. Some course reading such as the adjacent (& brilliant) 'The Immoralist' by Andre Gide have proved absorbing enough for me to almost miss my overground stop for although I must admit that most Walter Benjamin/heavy literary criticism doesn't always make the transition. Often I've been plugging the gaps with the short story volumes that have been languishing of late alongside old favourites, Lydia Davis' 'Can't & Won't for one & 'Binocular Vision' by Edith Pearlman for another. What women.

Wandering:

I've been spending a lot more time with the boy (couple library trips, yay!) & while that's always a good thing, it also adds to the temptation to watch 'Have I Got News For You' reruns all day & eat pasta all night every night. We decided on some more outdoors-y plans on the windy Sunday just gone, swinging by one of our many local coffee shops for the very-very-last of the iced coffees (have you weaned yourself off of iced espresso yet? if so, what's your secret?) to accompany us on a winding route to Clapton & our new favourite pub, 'The Clapton Hart', of course, to flip through the papers & indulge in yet more nut roasts. I can tell that they won't be able to keep me away come mulled wine season, oh man, sorry (not sorry) bank balance...!

Watching:

While it's been difficult parting company with our newly acquired boxset of 'The Trip' & 'The Trip to Italy' ('I will not bury you, Batman', kudos if you get that reference & extra points if you can give me the next line), I was very keen to watch this film of Miranda July's having been unbelievably lucky to root it out in a charity shop for a mere two pounds. I've always been a fan of her & all of the amazing creatives she's been associated with (namely Sheila Heti, Lena Dunham, Leanne Shapton & the like, swoon) but hadn't seen any of the films through which she made her name. I would encourage you all to watch this sweet, kind, funny & wise film as soon as possible, Andrew & I just adored it - we were both sobbing & laughing at each other sobbing by the end of it & were quite a sight, I'm sure.

Gee, that's just about all that's happening in my corner of the internet.

Otherwise I'm just enjoying being back in education, being able to talk earnestly about interesting books & having access to the intricate minds of my university tutors. 

Oh & anticipating the beetroot almost done roasting in red wine vinegar for the last hour to be shortly accompanied by puy lentils. They're always something to look forward to.

What've you been up to lately?

Do you similarly worship at the altar of Miranda July?

Speak soon - O.

08/10/14: Easy like Sunday morning(s)

Sleepily contemplating gnocchi while gazing at the rain darkened pavement outside my bedroom window on this Wednesday night, it seems like a good time to be looking back at the last couple of leisurely Sunday afternoons that I've enjoyed in a similarly languorous fashion. Sundays have not always been the highlight of my week, in fact, up until recently, Sundays often signalled the start of my working week rather than the breakast-in-bed-athon as they are known to most. On the rare occasion that I swapped a shift, I would almost always be found pedalling down to Columbia Road for a cup of coffee from Lily Vanilli & a bunch of blooms before it was time to head home for tea. Now that I'm working just two days a week (a development I enthusiastically blogged about very recently) the potential for my Sunday plans has been infinitely increased. I'm pleased to say that over the past couple of weekends, Andrew & I have been able to make the most of the tail-end of the weekend with some thoroughly Sunday suitable activities.

Finishing my last week of working full time last Saturday, I felt that the occasion needed to be marked & that it was only right that Andrew & I should celebrate. The two of us falling through the door at almost seven o'clock, however, quite quickly agreed that neither of us could actually, errr, be bothered to. At least not that evening. A long lie in the next day, however, found us restored & sufficiently tempted by sunny skies outside that we were, admittedly against our habit, ambling East on Dalston Lane. Swinging by The Hackney Peddler, The Russet & over Hackney Downs, we found our way to Clapton Pond & (eventually) the right end of Lower Clapton Road for The Clapton Hart. Frequently name dropped by one of my favourite blog writers Ava of Shake, Guac & Roll for its occasional vegan roasts & toad-in-the-hole(!) amongst other things, I trusted in her judgement that it would be the perfect venue for my first London Sunday roast. Yes, I admit it. Despite often walking past our local pubs en route to weekend markets, their pavements outside full of picnic benches of people having their fill of yorkshire pudding soaked in gravy, every week agreeing 'we should really do that one day', almost three years together & we've never quite well, err, got it together. This Sunday was different. Eagerly settled at a seat in The Clapton Hart's vast beer garden at its back with pints in hand, we impatiently flipped through Sunday papers while waited for our veggie roasts. Napkins in laps & sleeves rolled ready, it was worth the wait. A pistachio & apricot nut roast alongside crisp roast potatoes, new potatoes, a monstrous yorkshire pudding, a pile of shredded greens & roughly chopped carrots. Scoffed in sublime sunshine for just over a tenner alongside (alas, reasonable by London standard) £4 pints, it was an afternoon better spent no other way. Winding up the day with a circuitous walk down to Shoreditch for a friend's gig at the Old Blue, it is a Sunday that we will (really this time) repeat soon although I suspect sadly sans beer garden weather.  

Succeeding in my aim to enjoy more breakfast food since I'm not working as much  (not the absolute extent of my ambitions, I can assure you, employers), this Sunday just gone also got off to a splendid start. Perhaps predictably following a recipe from my much-loved 'A Modern Way to Eat' cookbook (that I nothing short of waxed lyrical about in my full review of it in my last post), that morning I let a few handfuls of oats & amaranth simmer with a pint of oat milk in a saucepan while my tea brewed nearby. Adding a swirl of honey & a scattering of blueberries to the porridge as it thickened, it was enjoyed back in bed with the first volume of Proust that I managed to re-read in a dizzying three days this week, phew. With Andrew at my side, we made good on another long term promise of paying a visit to the Tate Britain south of the river to see the late Turner on there until the New Year. Leaving late, we picnicked on pretzels & raspberries on a bench outside the gallery before making it around the exhibit in the last couple of hours before closing. There was some sentimentality to these plans as one mine & Andrew's first 'dates' was to see some Turner canvases at Tate Britain by way of research for one of our university courses. Still, I've always had a fondness for Turner's seascapes & sunrises, struck by his delicate but commanding use of colour & light in particular, extended further to include the unusual pictures that incorporated myths & legends, circles in square frames. Shortly after our tour of its six rooms, both stocked up on postcards, we buttoned up once more & walked up to a rapidly darkening Westminster to get a train home again for more episodes of 'Mad Men' (I'm besotted) & getting back into bed.

This week has been, I suspect, making up for Sunday's laziness but I'm making sure to appreciate the pleasure of days spent on course reading, how spoilt I am(!) Tomorrow my Grandy is coming down to London for the day so I'll be able to show her the sights outside of my bedroom & blog about it for you. As for now, having survived my first seminar this afternoon (thanks for being friendly, fellow students!), I think I'll be getting something of an early night in preparation for Andre Gide & a certain Friedrich Nietzsche this time next week, yikes.

How do you like to spend your Sundays?

Speak soon - O.