What happens if you leave icing and Xmas cookies out and your partner happens to pass by..?
(and speaking of holiday specials..)
What happens if you leave icing and Xmas cookies out and your partner happens to pass by..?
(and speaking of holiday specials..)
It's a new week. And I completely forgot to write about the highlight of the previous week. Friday night my partner and I had an impulsive dance-a-thon in our living room when we realised that BBC4 was showing footage of Pulp headlining at Glastonbury 1995. When we first met, D. and I initially bonded over our shared love for early to mid-90s British guitar pop (some call it the 'Britpop' era but, really, that name was a media construct). Nowadays that era gets boiled down to "so, were you into Blur or Oasis?" because that was the huge (and nonsensical) story of the day. Did you hum along to Country House by cheeky middle-class Southern chaps Blur or did you bellow along to Cigarettes & Alcohol by authentic working-class northern lads Oasis? People knew who you were by which one you preferred - nevermind that Blur's drummer eventually became a Labour activist/politician and the singer from Oasis now dabbles as a fashion designer.
D. and I pledged our allegiance elsewhere (much to the frustration of a former boss of mine who thought she could pinpoint me by asking the Blur/Oasis question) and we both preferred Pulp and Suede.
Pulp used sparkly pop songs to deliver social commentary via great story-telling. Suede glamorised working class struggles whilst referencing Byron and Andy Warhol and playing with androgyny. Suede soon descended into cringe-inducing banality (tellingly around the time their guitarist left to pursue other musical interests - he is now a record producer) but I still love their first two albums. Pulp's frontman, the charismatic Jarvis Cocker, now works as a broadcaster for BBC, and Pulp recently reformed to do some UK festival dates in 2011.
William Shatner(!) has done a great(!!) cover version of Pulp's most famous song, Common People, and Nick Cave has turned their anthemic Disco 2000 into something heartbreakingly beautiful. My favourite Pulp album is His'n'Hers from which Do You Remember the First Time? is taken (lyrics obviously NSFW). I cannot believe that song is now 16 years old and I'm in my mid-30s.
Time has been somewhat kinder to Pulp than Suede, but for old time's sake here is Suede doing a cover of The Pretenders' Brass In Pocket, a live version of So Young (still my favourite Suede song - so much gloomy romanticism!), and the awesome The Killing of a Flash Boy which will forever remind me of living in London in the mid-90s. Looking back it is unbelievable they got away with something like this at a multi-corporate awards ceremony or that my mum approved of me loving them so damn much.
So, yes, we danced around the living room in a totally cool mid-90s minimalist way. And it was the absolute highlight of last week.
It has been a week of woe in Casa Bookish. A possible burst water pipe, a plumber missing in action, parcels also missing (prompting a vaguely panicked last-ditch shopping expedition today) and a tonne of other mishaps great and small. To round it all off tonight I accidentally snapped a key-fob made for me by a dear friend. At that point I sat down in the hallway and laughed hysterically.
At least my last(?) knitting project of 2010 has turned out nice. My twee winter hat is currently blocking over a plate and I'm actually wearing the matching fingerless gloves as I'm typing this. I love the mitts: they're pretty, wintery, warm and soft. I'm also loving how much colour they mitts and hat provide - this is very much appreciated in a miserable Scottish winter when everything seems to be a shade of grey.
I am running behind on everything, though.
I am yet to writing Christmas cards, yet to make some gingerbread cookies to bring with us to the big Christmas family gathering, yet to finish my red cardigan, yet to do all the necessary household chores, yet to conquer the mountain of work I need to do before Christmas, yet to finish re-reading Atwood's Oryx & Crake so I can take The Year of the Flood with me on holiday, and .. oh, I make life so difficult for myself sometimes.
At least I accomplished quite a few things today: paperwork, laundry, xmas shopping, snow-emergency-xmas-dinner-buying, present-wrapping. Check, check, check! I am also rather relieved I decided against handmade presents this year.
Also: I really miss my Danish family and friends because .. well, it's Christmas-time and the season for missing my dear ones.My mother is having a big birthday this Thursday and it is pretty hard that I cannot be there to celebrate her. I knew some things were going to be tough when I decided to move to the UK and this is one of them.
Onwards and upwards. I'll finish some paperwork whilst listening to Ella Fitzgerald singing Christmas songs and I have assorted Christmas candy next to me to help me along and things will work out fine.
Deep breath.
Christmas came early this year. I just received this beautiful collographic print in the post. The sender? My artist uncle, Preben Andersen.The photo does not pay it justice as you don't get the wonderful play between print and paper so evident in real life.
I grew up in a working-class family in rural Denmark, but ours was a weird family. Everybody seemed to be creative one way or another. Some of my uncles set up their own 'beat combo' in the mid-1960s which led to much heartache among the local teenage girls. Others became more interested in visual arts and crafts: murals, collages, sculpture, pottery.. Of course my family still obsessed over football results and popular music, but there was a definite and pervasive sense of self-expression and creative exploration which I recognise in myself.
I grew up with paintings on the wall and frequent visits to galleries exhibiting works by members of my family. I inherited a big pile of art history books from my great-grandmother's brother (who had been a farm labourer as well as a painter). I recall one summer when I spent days in my great-grandmother's backyard trying to use a hammer and chisel so I could carve out a sculpture from a cheap piece of concete.
I never knew my upbringing to be different from everybody else - that is, until I started school and other kids did not make their own Christmas decorations, their mums did not knit them jumpers in mad colours, and their parents much preferred reproductions of famous paintings (Monet's water lilies, in particular) to no-name oil paintings by weird uncles. It was a rude awakening but thankfully I did not reject my unusual upbringing. I just .. well, I'm still a crafty, creative, slightly odd person, am I not?
I paint too.
Well, I used to paint. I have sold a couple of paintings over the years, never made enough decent paintings to stage a real exhibition and currently I live in a space which does not lend itself to splashing acrylic paint around. I miss it, though I know I am not particularly gifted; I just love colour - one of my first art loves was Wassily Kandinsky unsurprisingly. I am also shacked up with an art school boy who is a creative, slightly oddball and colour-obsessed man. They always say you end up marrying your father - I did not have a father but I had a huge number of creative, slightly oddball, and colour-obsessed uncles. Draw your own conclusions.
Finally, just two quick links to two of my favourite artists/paintings. I grew up with figurative art but I fell in love with abstract art very early on in my life.
Using this recipe (link in Danish but worth google-translating) I baked Yule cookies on Saturday. Don't laugh, but it was the first time I ever used Lyle Black Treacle and I fell head over heels in love with both the beautiful tin and the rich, almost-licorice-like taste. Baking the cookies proved a bit of a challenge as our kitchen is poorly designed with very few places to put things, but I managed.
(I still miss my Copenhagen kitchen, though. It was very small but functioned a lot better as a working space. Our current kitchen is one of the main reasons why I do not cook nor bake as much as I did in Denmark)
Sunday we decorated the cookies - D. took great delight in making aesthetically pleasing cookies whereas I just piled on the icing - just in time for the annual Yule bash in our tenement. After an hour half the cookies had disappeared along with any feeling in my toes (it was an outside do). It is usually a lovely get-together filled with carol-singing, plenty of mince-pies and happy children. This year we all just huddled around the small wood stove and hoped no body parts would off due to frost bite. The snow has disappeared for now, but it has been replaced by a bone-chilling frost. I gave up after 90 minutes and retreated to the flat with its warm quilts and hot cocoa. Brrr.
Changing the topic: lately I have been receiving a slew of emails from The Christian Coalition of America (wikipedia link). Nice, polite emails asking me to support God's legacy by using my God-given vote to be pro-family, pro-life and pro-America. Nice, polite emails filled with homophobia, anti-women's rights and a downright nasty attitude towards anything Not Christian (i.e. their version of Christianity). I have been doing a bit of on-line sleuthing and have deduced that someone must have signed me up for these emails. Deliberately. I wonder why? Was it a joke that misfired or someone who thought I'd benefit from these mails? I much prefer the former to the latter, you know. I don't like the idea that anyone of my acquaintance genuinely thought I needed to hear from the CCA.
Now for assorted randomness:
The view from the living room is usually quite nice. We have no neighbours living opposite us - just a patch of woodland - and we live on a quiet street. Today has been even more quiet than usual. A heavy snowfall has pretty much blocked the street and none of the car owners have seemingly bothered to dig out their cars for the morning commute. I do not blame them; our street doubles as a nice little hill and the idea of driving up the hill in these conditions .. no, not an appealing thought.
Today the view from our living room is still quite nice - except at some point I shall have to put on a lot of layers and climb the aforementioned little hill. Brrr...
(Yes, the photo is a bit large but I found I lost all the "lovely" snowy details if I made it any smaller)
And the star? It's a traditional Danish Christmas star and you can make it yourself.
Inspired by the wintery conditions, I have begun making some wintery mitts. You may remember a previous attempt which I pulled out after some thought. I loved both yarns I used but I did not like them together. I rummaged through the stash (still unsorted and unorganised. I need to get my act together) and found some yarn I thought might work better.
This time I'm combining Noro Kureyon with some Rowan Purelife Organic Wool DK (I have plenty in my stash - I picked it up during the John Lewis clearance sale at a tres favourable price). I'm loving working with both yarns but..
..I cannot decide if this looks completely twee in the worst sense of the word (sentimental, sugary sweet, affectedly quaint) OR if this looks twee in a totally adorable 1950s way. It is a fine line, you must agree. I mean, the pattern has me knitting hearts for heaven’s sake!
I shall, of course, be making a matching beret.
Apropos of nothing, my winter coat is close to giving up the ghost. It remains warm and cosy, but the loosely woven tweed is beginning to get worn to the point of holes. Just one hole so far (which I shall mend) but it does make me ponder whether it would be an idea for the future to sew my own winter coat. Last time I had problems finding a winter coat which was both warm, practical (ack) and not butt-ugly.
Budget fashionistas (and sewers), share your thoughts and experiences with winter coats.