Thanksgiving...and Christmas Markets

So, I'm sitting eating the leftovers of my Thanksgiving dinner for Sunday lunch.  Not a bad idea, really.  Both involve lots of preparation, then presumably, a nap.

Thursday was Thanksgiving, which I celebrated with 3 American and 3 British friends.  The Brits obviously heard about my magnificent culinary ability and came solely for that.  It took me 3 days and about 8 stores before I finally found a frozen turkey breast, which, according to my calculations, cost me $5.25 per pound (compared to about 65 cents in the US).  They had duck, goose, pheasant, grouse, chicken, but no turkey!  I am very thankful that they were all there; otherwise, I might've been crying into a very expensive plate of turkey all by myself.

Here's a photo of my delicious dinner (thanks, Dorian, for the overhead shot): turkey (that's really all there is) on top of dressing, cranberry sauce, sweet potato souffle, green beans, biscuits (which the Brits were intrigued by and kept calling "scones"). 

I should probably give my Granny's recipe for dressing right here, because I followed it (sort of), and it was amazingly delicious.  Basically, you make stuffing/dressing whatever, then you add melted butter and salt or chicken stock.  Then, you keep adding butter and salty chicken broth until it's soupy and you're fairly sure someone eating it is going to have a massive coronary from the sodium.  Then, you add a little bit more and it's perfect!

The day after Thanksgiving I slept in (which is pretty unusual for me).  I don't think I actually woke up until 10:30!  I went to the Christmas markets in the evening.  Manchester supposedly has the best Christmas markets in Britain, but I haven't seen the others, so I couldn't tell you.  I can tell you that it was AWESOME!  I am a great lover of Christmas, shopping for gifts and food, so it was like heaven.  I went to the European one which is in St. Ann's Square behind the City Hall.  There are 4 others in the various squares around city Center.  The lights and stuff are beautiful.  Here are examples:

Nope, that's not London, that's Manchester.  Gorgeous, isn't it?  

Anyway, the food was what made it awesome, and you can buy Gluhwein, which I pronounced GLOW-wine because that's what it should give you due to the extreme cold, but instead I just drank lots of it and got really, really sleepy.  For the home-folks reading this, it was like the Mossy Creek Barnyard festival and the GA National Fair had a European baby... on crack.  

I ate (over the course of two days at the markets): a chocolate-covered homemade marshmallow, a spicy German sausage in a bun, a chocolate-covered fried Dutch doughnut, a pretzel, some cheese, lots of Gluhwein and peppermint flavored (okay I used "flavored" because "liquored" isn't really a word) hot chocolate.  Here's the fun part: food pictures!

 

Mmmm.  Candy.  Lots of it.  Covered in chocolate.  Made into houses.

This German dude is serious about salami.  My favorite part of his spiel: "I don't trust vegetarians.  Who in their right mind would give up this amazing feast of meat?"  My answer:  I don't know.  Those vegetarians are crazy!

Two years ago, my friend Cristina got me this awesome "filled doughnut pan" from Williams Sonoma.  I've made them a few times and they're awesome.  However, these people obviously are better at it than me.  They cover them in jam and chocolate.

There was a large lit "creche" (nativity) in the middle of the German market, and this woman was telling her little girls: "Please just stop running around and screaming. Here, eat some chocolate and look at Jesus in the manger."  I think that pretty much sums up my entire philosophy of Christmas.

Now, I'm going to take a nap.

Classic Dad

My dad is suspicious to a laughable extent.  He's basically a "danger" hypochondriac if that even exists.  He does not/will not have a debit card because he thinks that makes him a target for fraud.  He won't do anything that requires him to give out his social security number (this includes finally getting high speed internet - which will likely be hacked into for his identity at any moment).  I taught him and my mom how to use Skype and bought them a webcam, but he refuses to download the software because it looks dangerous.  Basically, if you combined every Dateline or 60 Minutes or 11 o'clock news warning segment, my dad is the one who believes all of that.

My friend Scott has realized the humour (OMG! I just spelled that with a "u" automatically!) in it, and constantly says my dad's favorite phrase: "You don't have any business __________."  This blank could literally be anything.

Yesterday, I called home to see what was going on, and my dad's cooking lunch (which makes it about 5:30 here).  We have the natural conversation about how it's freezing there and how school is etc.  Then, here is a brief transcript:

Dad: So what are you up to, kid?

Me: Not much.  I'm going to a friend's house tonight to put together the shoeboxes for kids in foreign countries.  Then, I'm going to a show.

Dad: By yourself?

Me: Yes.

Dad: You don't need to be going out after dark by yourself.  If you don't have someone to take you places, you just need to stay inside after dark.  You don't have any business going out after dark.

Me: Dad, it gets dark at 4:30 here.  It's been dark for over an hour.

Dad: No, it doesn't.  You're not that far north.

Me: Yes dad, we're even with Greenland or Canada.

Dad: Well, you don't need to go out.  You just need to be careful.

I know it's supposed to be sweet and fatherly concern, but it's really funny because he probably thinks that Manchester really is so dangerous that I need to stay in and not go anywhere every night after dark.  Except maybe church.  He'd probably be okay with that.

Yorkshire Dales Part the Second, or Mud and Suede don't mix.

Okay, here's the second installment of photos with my usual witty captioning.

Here's the fells looking a bit angry like Manchester.  Just before we left thankfully.

The Parish Church at Hardraw - Really a beautiful place, next to the river that flows from the Waterfall.

This is Hardraw Scaur.  I looked up the word "scaur" and it means "a precipitous bank of rock".  It is England's tallest single drop waterfall, which is kind of cool, although It's really not that tall.

In Prince of Thieves, this is where Kevin Costner (well, KC's body double, it was apparently too cold for him to actually do it) swam/jumped in here.  It was freezing outside, and there was blackish mud an inch thick everywhere, so I'm inclined to believe that someone might not want to swim in it.  That's why I stood in front.  I realize that I am very pale-looking, but I was getting over the sickness.

Here's another picture of the Hardraw Parish Church, which was very pretty to walk around.

Here's part of the group I was with (clockwise): Me, Sinamon (Kenya), Dragos (Romania), John (Hong Konh), Annis (Indonesia), Maksim (Russia), Alba (Spain - and Tori, her cute yellow lab guide dog, somehow isn't in the picture), Artem (also Russia - twins w/Maksim), and William (France).  We are an international group, no?

Okay, so this was pretty much my favorite part of the weekend.  The pub-cat!  His name is Lucy, yes "his".  He sits in all the chairs with cushions as close to the fire as he can get.  He lets you pick him up like a baby and tote him around, so I loved it!  

That's all for now.  I'm going to Northern Ireland for Christmas, so I'll probably have a lot of pictures from that.

The Yorkshire Dales Part the First, or Emily Bronte was so right.

I went with the International 16 to Hardraw in Yorkshire.  We stayed at a lovely place called Harris House.  It was a bit chilly most of the time, but the sun was shining the whole time we were there, so I think it cured my Manchester blues.  I also feel much better, having almost completely recovered from my strep throat-with-achy-joints malaise.  Anyway, it was in the middle of nowhere, but it was easily the most beautiful middle of nowhere I have ever been.  On Saturday I woke up early (I am the last morning person, I know), and I saw the sun come up over the dales* and autumn trees and sheepdogs herding sheep, and it was breathtaking.  I told Sam, our coordinator and fearless leader, that this was the England I came to see.  

To recap a bit of our experiences, we drove the two hours Friday night and stayed up late (well, they stayed up late, I went to bed at 2) eating delicious food prepared by Ulka.  The next morning I got up early, washed all the dishes, cleaned the common room, read three chapters of my book, made coffee, got dressed and took a shower before I ever saw another soul awake.  Ulka made Indian pancakes (more like omelets) for breakfast, and although I was hesitant to try them, I ended up eating three.  Five minutes later*, we set off across the fells* to go to Hawes/Wensleydale to the Creamery, home of Wallace and Gromit.  By the time we got there, my inflamed joints were hurting terribly.  We tasted lots of delicious cheeses and went through a small museum.  I bought a bottle of Sloe Gin* and some cheese and a poster of Wallace and Gromit.  Since I was so uncomfortable (and a couple other people didn't want to walk back), Sam went back and got the van.  While we were waiting, I ate a big bowl of strawberry ice cream from the creamery, and it was delicious.  

Saturday night proceeded much like Friday, except we went to the pub next door.  The Green Dragon Inn has been around for about 400 years and is the most amazing pub I've ever seen.  All stone with wooden seats and benches and fireplaces and warm rugs.  Sam has lived in England his entire life, and he says it's the best pub he's ever been in, so I imagine that's quite the compliment.  I drank several pints of their homemade cider.  I finally went to bed at three (still the first asleep though).  Sunday morning was pretty much like Saturday morning.  I washed all of the (tons and TONS) of dishes.  About five minutes after noon, we went through the Green Dragon to Hardraw Scaur, England's tallest single drop waterfall.  It was the waterfall that Kevin Costner swam in during Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.  Then, I ate a Yorkshire pudding with roast beef and vegetables.  It was delicious.  

Finally, I coordinated the housecleaning (which took exactly 45 minutes, thankyouverymuch), and we left just as it was getting dark.

*Dales - river valleys surrounded by vales (which are actually mountains)

  Five minutes - In England, with a group of all foreigners, this can mean anywhere from 20 minutes to three hours.  For example, "It'll take five minutes to get there" really means it'll take however long it takes.  Also, "We're leaving in five minutes" means "We're leaving whenever, so don't bother putting your boots on".

  Fells - Hilly pastureland

  Sloe gin - a divine liqueur made from these plummy-like fruits, gin, and sugar.  Delicious.

Here are some of the picture (the remainder of which I will put in a subsequent post):  

Picture of Sam (green shirt), Dragos, Paul and Annis at breakfast.  Taken at noon.

This is the river that originates above the Hardraw Scaur.

Harris House, our humble home in Hardraw.

From the Garden at Harris House, some fells.  They're all about as pretty as this.

The farm across from Harris House, and a man walking a baby in a pram.

The beginning of our walk to Hawes/Wensleydale.  This is the least muddy part of the entire walk.

Actually, the road is the least muddy part.  Isn't this beautiful?

I would totally marry a sheep farmer to get to live here forever. [My mum begins fervently praying for any and all sheep farmers to stay at least 500 yards away from me.]

For the record, I would also marry someone who owned a creamery, just for the free cheese/ice cream.

More pictures to come.

Dis iz mah life.

more animals

more animals

Cold, War, Kids and Cold War Kids

COLD - 

It's been cold this week.  Not as cold as last week but still cold.  Compounded by the fact that I've felt terrible most of the week.  I woke up Thursday night more than a few times, burning up and unable to sleep.  I finally opened the window (probably not the best idea with the cold/dampness) and finally fell asleep only to awaken unable to swallow.  I wish I could take a picture of my throat, but it would be really, really gross.  White patches, pus, etc.  In other words, strep.  Greeeaaat.  Went to my GP* and she actually concurred that I might need an antibiotic to prevent, I don't know, scarlet fever and my throat rotting out.  Anyway, as I type this, I'm currently running a temperature of 39.5 Celsius.  I'm starting to get a hang of the Celsius.  My GP actually told me it's easier to remember fever levels in metric: 37 is normal, 38 is low grade, 39 is mid grade fever, and 40 is high fever.  Easy enough, right? 

Also, someone told me a brilliant rhyme to figure out the freaking weather report:

0 is freezing, 

10 is not, 

20 is pleasing, 

30 is HOT.  

100 is boiling

for tea in a pot.

WAR - 

I've got a paper due Monday that's a document analysis of a letter by Oliver Cromwell written during the 1st English Civil War in 1644.  I'm trying to finish it, but this fever/sickness is not helping very much.  It really is interesting, but I won't go into detail since the rest of the world seems to glaze over and nod a lot when I start talking about this kind of stuff.

KIDS - 

Here are pictures of Robert and Priscilla at Halloween.  I miss them sooooo much.  Robert was an authentic punk rocker (note the hella cute Jack White shirt, leather jacket and baby Vans with skulls and Cristina carrying a miniature electric guitar).  P was so cute as Winnie the Pooh.  I could just eat her up!  Apparently, this year, there was no hiding the candy from her, as evidenced by the blue mouth.   (These photos are in html, so you'll have to click on them to see the whole thing, which is well worth it.)

COLD WAR KIDS - 

Despite feeling like Death warmed over, I went to see CWK at the Ritz with Dorian (my Miami ami) on Thursday night.  They played songs from their new album, Loyalty to Loyalty, which I recommend.  It's got the same story-ballad lyrics as Robbers and Cowards, but the music's more experimental (and not in the air quotes way that sometimes connotes).  It was recorded live for Channel Bee Television, so maybe you can watch, although I'm not sure whether it'll work in the US.  Here are some pictures I took:

This week.

I sent in my absentee ballot weeks ago, and since the polls didn't close till 2 am here, I couldn't really see staying up when I could pretty much bet on what was going to happen.  So, I woke up to Quaker Oats, a cup of tea, and change.  

Congratulations, President-Elect Obama and family.  I hope I'm not the only one who's more than a little excited that there will be children in the White House.  In exchange for their hard work and sacrifice (and their dad's win), Sasha and Melia are getting a puppy, a fact which I love.   I am, however, going to miss the Barney Cam Christmas videos.  Sorry for going off on a tangent, but I wanted to be able to share my favorite thing about the Bush White House (it includes Karl Rove being pelted by Christmas ornaments): Where in the White House is Miss Beazley?

It's reading week here in Manchester (for most people).  Freshers don't have to read as much, but I have a gobbet (document analysis) due on Monday, so I'll be pretty busy.  I did get to go to Deansgate, our fabulous, world-renowned archive.  It's very inspiring to study in.  

 

I would willingly indenture myself in order to live/study/read there forever.

Last night we had our first practice for Christmas choir, an event which made me more choked up than pretty much anything so far (mainly because our Christmas choir at Christchurch is so good, and I love it).  It'll be fun, and I get to roll my r's while singing.  It's so British, pretentious and awesome!

BY THE WAY, I couldn't resist this, since I'm in the UK:

Remember, remember the 5th of November,

Gunpowder, treason and plot!

I know of no reason, why the gunpowder treason

Should ever be forgot!

Today is Bonfire Night/Guy Fawkes, the 403rd anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot by Guy Fawkes et al. to blow up Parliament and the royal family.  Tonight there will be fireworks and people will burn effigies of Guy Fawkes.  Actually, they'll probably burn effigies of W., Tony Blair and Margaret Thatcher, so I'm told.  I can't wait!