Many people asked me what I thought of the snow this week in Yorkshire. On one hand, it’s been a laughable amount to this intrepid Canadian, but on the other hand, I can’t join in to the jokes that colder, snowier countries are making.
People have died. People have been stranded in their cars, stranded on trains, stranded at home.
It all boils down to infrastructure. Countries and cities that regularly experience heavy snowfall have the means to remove it and melt it, while I can only guess that many parts of the UK have a seriously limited contingency plan. In contrast, Montreal’s snow-removal budget for 2017 was $159 million . When we lived in Ottawa, I remember seeing special snow melting trucks slowly rumbling down our street during particularly heavy snowfalls.
But you simply can’t expect a nation that rarely has to deal with snow to have a good handle on things when it does. And it doesn’t matter how familiar I am with walking on snowy and icy sidewalks – when I’m on the bus, I’m still at the mercy of the driver’s abilities. I distinctly felt my bus slide to a stop a couple of times at red lights. An in-town journey that usually takes 15 minutes took 40 minutes on Thursday morning. I can completely understand why people commuting from further away chose to take snow days.
And why not? Why endanger themselves when something a bit unusual is happening? Schools and nurseries were closed for part of the week, so many people had no choice but to stay home. I heard stories of families playing in the snow – tobogganing in Chapel Allerton Park, making snowmen, making memories with their kids.
And who doesn’t love a snow day? I was really impressed with how seriously the office I temped in handled various staff members’ decisions to stay home. There was no shaming, no ridicule, no sarcastic ‘air quotes’ about working from home. If I’m honest, I was a bit sad that I didn’t live far away enough to have a snow day myself!
I grew up in the country, on an unpaved rural road. If I heard my parents listening to the local radio station before 6:30 am, I knew it was only a matter of time before my bus and/or school would be cancelled. We’d also get an early-morning phone call if the buses weren’t running. I would snuggle back down under the covers, grateful for a reprieve from math quizzes and science projects; smug in the knowledge that my brothers and I would likely spend most of the day tobogganing. Turning on the radio in the mornings this week transported me straight back to that feeling, except I had to continue putting on my makeup and checking bus times.
I also have a happy memory of my father from when I was about 16. One icy, snowy night he picked me up in town, but we had to ditch our car on an icy road about a mile from our house. We left my shopping bags in the car, and walked hand in hand to keep each other from slipping. It was nice to have my dad take such good care of me.
So it doesn’t matter that the phrases ‘freezing rain’ and ‘ice storm’ strike more fear in my heart than the prospect of snow. All that matters is that everyone does their best to stay safe and warm.
honey – the superstar in my cold-fighting arsenal
Hola! While everyone I know has been in Mexico lately, Jeff and I have been trying to recover from forking bad colds while huddling under blankets and catching up with The Good Place.
I don’t want to sound like a baby, but man oh man, British colds hit me way harder than Canadian viruses and tend to linger for weeks. In my Toronto life, it was usually enough to get extra rest and fluids right when I first felt the ‘impending doom’ feeling hit my sinuses and expect to ride out a miserable two or three days if I caught it fast enough.
But when I’m ill here in England, I’m constantly looking for a Victorian fainting chaise longue and coughing like a consumptive. I keep expecting my doctor to prescribe a month at the seaside.
It’s no surprise that I’ve had to ramp up my approach to recovery and healing. I realise there isn’t anything super groundbreaking in this post, but if you’re anything like me, the stuffier my head gets, the foggier my brain gets, so I thought it would be helpful for my next cold to have all my favourite remedies listed in one place.
Toronto me felt that merely staying home and taking it easy was enough when I would begin to feel ill; now I literally take to my bed whenever I can. I find a book or box set that’s interesting-ish but also won’t be a big deal if I nod off. Podcasts are great for when I want to rest my eyes but worry about getting bored.
So that’s the resting part of the equation. On to the fluids:
- Tea, and lots of it. Caffeinated black tea if I simply must be awake and alert for a while, but more often I switch to a lemon-ginger infusion. Twinings Lemon & Ginger is a staple here at Casa Hewer, but Pukka Lemon Ginger & Manuka Honey is another recent fave. If I have a persistent cough, I prefer adding a squeeze of actual honey to the Twinings version.
- If I haven’t had any painkillers for a number of hours, a shot of bourbon added to the lemon-ginger-honey tea is a nice send-off for a nap.
- Sparkling mineral water has lots of fizz and bubbles to soothe my sore, scratchy throat. I avoid soft drinks these days, although I might consider ginger ale for an upset stomach.
- Chicken broth, chicken noodle soup, vegetable broth if you’re vegetarian. I wish I had a ramen or pho place nearby.
- And when I am beyond tired of not being able to breathe through my nose, I go for some sinus-clearing Thai Tom Yum soup, or Chinese Hot and Sour soup.
- During particularly bad bout of bronchitis, I went online to look for home remedies for a cough, and found out that avoiding dairy was the wrong plan for me – a cup of warm milk with honey at bedtime is a very effective way to stop coughing long enough to fall, and stay, asleep.
- And also on the liquids continuum – nothing beats a long, hot shower if I’m able to stand upright without feeling faint or dizzy. Sometimes it’s easier to sit in front of a bowl of steaming hot water with a towel draped over my head.
I don’t go in for drugstore cold remedies as a rule, but lately I’ve had no choice but to pull out a classic from my childhood: Vicks VapoRub. I completely forgot how soothing this stuff is. I make sure I’m wearing pajamas I don’t care too much about. Not that I can smell anything anyway, but that stuff is as greasy as the day is long.
I recently discovered the trick of taking a teaspoon of honey to stop coughing, so now I do that instead of having a lozenge. I save hard candies for coughing jags when I am out and about in the world.
I always forget to do this until it’s too late, but getting a couple of boxes of extra soft tissues is a necessity when I’m constantly blowing my nose. And I wash my hands every single time I blow my nose or touch my face.
And it may be obvious, but these super bad colds have scared me into taking even better care of myself when I am healthy – eating properly, getting enough sleep, and paying attention to my body’s early warning signs.
If you’ve got a favourite cold or flu tip, please feel free to share in the comments. And has anyone ever tried the trick of applying Vicks VapoRub on the soles of your feet to stop coughing? I’m super curious.
Halloween, schmalloween. Bonfire Night is one of my favourite things about my adopted country. Last year we had two perfectly crisp, clear nights for the festivities, the Friday night was Roundhay Park’s annual massive bonfire and fireworks, the Saturday night, Bonfire Night proper – 5th November – spent at a fun house party with lots of chili con carne and jacket potatoes, a fire lit in the backyard brazier, and one of their obliging, yet anonymous, neighbours had a seemingly endless supply of fireworks. We walked home with reddened cheeks, serenaded by the pops and bangs of fireworks from every direction.
This relatively obscure celebration stateside nonetheless has rather rich representation in pop culture:
- Attack the Block : an alien invasion that just happens to take place on Bonfire Night
- Podcast episode about Guy Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot: Allusionist 65: Eponyms III: Who’s That Guy?
- Gunpowder on BBC iPlayer with
Jon SnowKit Harington. A bit gory for my tastes, but if you know me at all, what isn’t too gory for my tastes? North Americans, BBC iPlayer is worth getting a VPN for.
- A Sherlock episode called The Empty Hearse
- And how about V for Vendetta ?
With Dutch parents and relatives in Canada, I grew up with a few Dutch words tumbled into their otherwise excellent English. My Oma (grandmother) called me kleine meisje(little girl), delicious food and drink were lekker, and cosy, homey spaces were described using the almost untranslatable gezellig, which to the untrained ear sounds exactly like someone trying to clear their throat.
So after seeing the Danish word hygge (hue-gah) suddenly pop up everywhere last autumn – blogs, bookstores, any place that uses the word ‘lifestyle’ unironically, I was a bit taken aback until I read this Guardian article, The hygge conspiracy .
Friends, after two years in England – in The North no less – I can tell you that Northern Europeans need these friendly words. But what we need even more are candles, throw blankets, thick cardigans, slippers, hot drinks and rib-sticking comfort food . It’s a different cold from Canada: damp, chilly and the nights draw in ridiculously early.
Call it whatever you want, this isn’t a lifestyle trend, it’s a necessity. A winter night in Leeds would be cold comfort indeed if I had to go without any of these things.
@the_leela – she’s doing gezellig right
It’s been almost two years since we arrived and fell in love with Yorkshire. Here are a few of my favourite things.
All I can say is that the Dales seized me like a helpless infatuation when I first saw them and will not let me go. Partly I suppose, it is the exhilarating contrast between the high fells, with their endless views, and the relative lushness of the valley floors, with their clustered villages and green farms. – Bill Bryson, Notes from a Small Island
Trips out of Leeds, especially in a car, are hilly adventures of sweeping vistas, grazing sheep, drystone walls, and green fields separated by hedgerows, even if it’s just a cab ride to the local airport. Every time I go on a walk, my throat seizes up with happiness at the beauty that surrounds me, stirring something deep within. We are still scratching the surface on this one, working on finding walks that are do-able from rail stations and begging people to take us with them whenever possible.
I still have the same small bottle of sun cream I bought in spring 2016. This is a feature, not a bug. We do get sunny days here, made all the more special by their rareness, but the sky in the above photo is pretty typical. Nothing a good raincoat with a hood, a pocket umbrella and water resistant shoes can’t handle. Winters are green and gentle, spring arrives fitfully around February, and the mood becomes downright festive when the days start stretching out in their approach to summer solstice. I’ll take the trade-off of shorter winter days for being able to walk home at 10:30 pm in the late June dusk.
‘Where are you from?’ is the question I now anticipate after I’ve greeted a shopkeeper, ordered something in a restaurant, or asked someone if I’m waiting for the correct train. Leeds doesn’t get very many international visitors, and people who choose to move here fascinate locals in a charming way that just doesn’t happen in more touristy places like York. Whether I’ve been making new friends at temp jobs, going to Meetup.com events or hanging out with musicians, everyone here is friendly, happy to answer questions, make recommendations and always up for a good chat. I might get the occasional dour taxi driver with interesting views on Canada’s French population or why London sucks, but hey life is life.
For the rest of my days, I will always have a swell of affection when I hear a Yorkshire accent.
Just don’t ask me to speak Yorkshire. I can’t. Stop asking.
Sorry to anyone who is somehow holding on to 1980s stereotypes of British food…it’s 2017 here too. I’m working on a post all about Leeds’ amazing food scene, but in the meantime, let Amy convince you to eat here .
Jeff really should guest post this section, but in his absence I will say that people of all ages are devoted fans of, and actually go see, live jazz all year round, not just during the 10 days of the Toronto Jazz Festival.
Ah, back on my native heath. Leeds is the centre of shopping nirvana in The North, but I often dub York, ‘Sex and the City meets Harry Potter’, for its streets filled with luxury brands displayed in diminutive medieval shop windows and hen parties chatting excitedly while drinking cosmopolitans and prosecco in pub gardens. I may be biased but I think the shopping is better still in Leeds, with everything from the recently opened branch of the department store John Lewis, to high-end stores in a stunning glass-roofed set of Victorian arcades aptly called Victoria Leeds, to normal stuff I can actually afford at Trinity. If you can think of it, and it’s in Britain, it’s probably in Leeds. The only exceptions that I have been able to determine so far are Uniqlo and Flying Tiger . Get on that, guys.
The village – Chapel Allerton
It’s probably more accurate to call Chapel Allerton an inner suburb of Leeds, but I have fallen completely in love with this village. Equal parts Stars Hollow and the decorative hamlet in Hot Fuzz (minus the mysterious murders), we live smack dab in the very centre of it and I am grateful every day that we do. It’s so well appointed that we often go days without ‘going into town’. Five pubs, ranging from hipster chic to frumpy Wetherspoons, lots of restaurants, two grocery stores, a butcher, a fishmonger, a cheesemonger, salons, a travel agent, a pet food store, bakeries, a burger joint, a pizza place, it’s pretty great.
Brits will laugh at this, be slightly stunned by the revelation, or wonder just how backward Canada is, but the rail network here is amazing. Leeds rail station is a busy hub that’s connected to pretty much everywhere. The only disappointment is how damn expensive it is to try and go anywhere at the last minute. But, with a bit of forethought and a practiced hand on National Rail Enquiries, travelling around Great Britain is a dream. Unless there’s a delay. Or a hen party. Or a bunch of drunken louts. Or all three at once.
So if you want me to visit you while you’re in London, I’m going to need a few weeks’ notice – unless you’re paying.
The rebirth of Yorkshire
You have to be pretty thick to not be aware of Yorkshire’s recent past, especially during The Thatcher Years. Films like The Full Monty, Brassed Off and Billy Elliot all portray a bleak time in the region’s history.
Even this 80s music video, filmed in Hebden Bridge, shows how grim Northern towns were back then, not helped by what looks like a wet winter day. Hebden Bridge today is a vibrant destination, filled with boutiques, cafes and pubs that cater to residents, visitors and walkers. Nearby Haworth has the Brontë Parsonage Museum and one of the steepest high streets I’ve ever staggered up.
I’ll take any chance to link to one of my favourite songs of all time, with stunning examples of Yorkshire hills, architecture and stonework appearing throughout the video.
The incomparable Nigella’s Chicken, Mango and Chilli salad.
Yorkshire summers can be a bit sporadic compared to the extreme summers of Toronto, but all the same, I’ve collected a few recipes for when temperatures reach the mid 20s and it actually feels like summer. Don’t you dare laugh, Torontonians – we don’t have air conditioning here!
Courgette and Ricotta with Pine Kernels and Basil – Nigel Slater
My go-to summer dinner for the beloved vegetarians in my life. And it doesn’t call for parmesan, unlike a number of classic Italian dishes. Next time I am going to slice the courgettes on a mandolin… using a veggie peeler made the slices too thin, and switching to my chef’s knife was slow, careful work that still produced uneven slices. But when that happens, you call it ‘rustic’ and move on. I’m also going to take Nigel up on his suggestion to add a couple of smashed bits of sticky roasted garlic to the dressing as well.
And unless you have a super-powered exhaust fan crowning your stove, this recipe is better grilled on a barbecue outside than on a cast iron griddle inside.
Chicken, Mango and Chilli Salad – Nigella Lawson
I’m going to pull back The Wizard’s curtain for a moment and freely admit that I’ve actually never made this recipe. Every time we’ve had it, my husband’s been on cooking duty. With lean protein, greens, fruit, a tangy dressing and some chilli kick, it’s everything you want in a light supper. Even though this is definitely on the Thai continuum, Indian garlic-coriander naan suits it just fine, for the carb-lovers in your life.
Pecan Crusted Salmon – The Kitchn
I can’t take credit for this one either – it’s another recipe Jeff reaches for weekly, ever since we’ve decided to add more heart-healthy fish and nuts to our diet. He’s noticed that he uses far fewer pecans than the recipe calls for, so halve the suggested amount.
Classic Chicken Salad – The Kitchn
Although I have been very careful to not buy kitchen wares willy-nilly, I bought a glass bowl specifically for this salad, so it can live good-naturedly in the fridge any time life gets busy and I need lunch, NOW. I scatter a few dried cranberries in along with toasted walnuts.
Strawberry Shortcake – Serious Eats
I’ve saved the best for last. The shortcake biscuits come together surprisingly quickly – a rare promise fulfilled by a recipe headnote. Gradually adding heavy cream to the flour mixture instead of cutting in chilled chunks of butter means the dough is ready in a matter of minutes, and hand forming the 4 portions takes mere seconds, which is a bonus: no need to roll out the dough and use a pastry cutter. Lots of little crags will appear after baking, perfect for strawberry juice to sink into.
Yes, you can buy an angel food cake, pry it apart into ‘slices’ with two forks and tumble over macerated strawberries and dollop with whipped cream, but using these slightly sweet fluffy biscuits as a base is far superior. This is a glorious dessert – I always forget how damn good it is until I’m eating it. The perfect pudding for your Wimbledon party.
Yes, the clichés and jokes are true. An English ‘summer’, especially here in the North, is definitely something to get used to.
I had my suspicions over the years, when the Observer Food Monthly section would post hearty recipes that involved time in the oven or on the stovetop, even in July. I remember last year’s summer – I wore a cardigan or a jacket a lot, on the many grey cloudy days that struggled to surpass 20 degrees (celsius).
In contrast, most Toronto and New York City publications are filled with no-cook or minimum-cook recipes and suggestions ( even I had one published! ), knowing that no city dweller in their right mind turns their stove on from June until September. It’s all barbecue, salads and cold soups . Or lovely picnic meals made up of store-bought potato salad, hummus and pita, cut veggies and maybe a few paper thin slices of prosciutto and ragged, torn buffalo mozzarella.
But we do sometimes get beautiful sunny weather here, made all the more special by its very rareness. I learned last year that May is often the very nicest month of all – the days start to stretch out like epic films, you can sit in a beer garden in a twilight that seems to hang around for hours, and everything green grows like crazy. And if you’re out on the moors, you can start to feel almost hobbit-like. Especially if you stop at a country pub for a little something to ‘fill up the corners’.
As a hardened veteran of Toronto heatwaves, the random ‘hot’ days we get here are easily met with my three-point plan:
- Wear something linen
- Eat cold foods
- Drink Arnold Palmers (aka Iced Tea Lemonade)
I owe a debt of gratitude to Making Lemonade – Carrie perfectly cracked the formula for Starbucks’ Shaken Iced Tea Lemonade. My sleepy village in north Leeds doesn’t have a Starbucks, so I would have to go into town to get one otherwise.
The Arnold Palmer is named after the famous American golfer. It’s really a simple case of ‘I’ll have what he’s having’ – a woman overheard him ordering iced tea with lemonade and asked for one too, calling it ‘that Palmer drink’. If we want to get pedantic, The Arnold Palmer is actually 3 parts iced tea to 1 part lemonade, and when the two parts are equal, some Americans call it a Half & Half. There is something very American about this drink – it has that preppy East Coast, boat shoes, seersucker, Breton stripes and Wayfarers as you summer in the Hamptons feel about it.
While you do need to plan and make the components in advance, it will be well worth it when you’re sipping what’s, in my opinion, one of the most refreshing drinks on the planet.
Start by making a simple syrup to flavour your lemonade, and if you like, your final beverage as well. There are many of detailed recipes out there, but really, it’s just heating an amount of water in a saucepan until it’s almost at the boil, then adding the same amount of granulated sugar (a 1:1 ratio) and stirring until it’s completely dissolved. Let cool and then decant into a clean jar, where you can store it, covered, in the fridge for a couple of weeks. I went with 1/3 cup of water and 1/3 cup of sugar, but that’s only because I ran out sugar.
Move on to the iced tea. Steep 2 bags of your favourite black tea (I’ve used Twinings English Breakfast) for 2 minutes in one litre of hot water, fresh off the boil. Let cool on the counter, then place in the fridge to chill.
Now for the lemonade. Mix 1/4 cup of freshly squeezed lemon juice to one litre of cold water. Add in simple syrup to taste. I added 3 teaspoons, but I don’t like my drinks very sweet. Place in the fridge to chill.
Here comes the fun part. If you have a cocktail shaker, use it. My big glass measuring cup does just fine. Throw in some ice cubes, then pour over a 3/4 cup of the iced tea and a 3/4 cup of the lemonade. Shake or stir briefly and pour, ice and all, into a pint glass, or a Tom Collins glass if you’re fancy.
If you like your drinks sweeter, add more simple syrup to taste before pouring. I don’t bother – part of what makes it refreshing is that it doesn’t have a cloying sweetness like so many other cold drinks. If you want yours with a little kick, bourbon’s your dance partner.
I want to say “and don’t let the door hit you on the way out”, but I can’t.
While 2016 has truly been rotten in many, many ways, it’s also been a great year for me, personally, as long as I don’t think very hard about the twin mournful slumps I had after BREXIT and the US election. Or all the horrible things happening in Syria and the terrorism throughout Europe. Or the sad moments every time an icon died.
Is it even ok to talk about the good things? I feel like I have survivor’s guilt. But then, I’ve had enough shitty years over my life that I think it’s ok to have a good one, especially one in which some hard-won, deeply-cherished goals have been met.
So I’m going to be positive, and if you feel like sharing my happiness, stick around. I’ll understand if you don’t. But there’s an otter eating breakfast at the end…
- Setttled into village life in Chapel Allerton, with easy access to the city centre of Leeds; the compact foodie and shopping heaven I’ve always dreamed of
- Temped (very) regularly at one of the colleges in Leeds, where I’ve made some amazing friends
- Sat, mute with tears of happiness, during Jeff’s final recital for his masters, which he (of course) smashed. I’m so proud of him!
- Had a great Bonfire Night weekend
- Pulled off a pretty boss Christmas dinner
- Cried over every icon who died, but also rediscovered some amazing music and films in their honour
- Learned how to knit
- Took some amazing Yorkshire walks – but also feel like I’ve merely scratched the surface
- Flirted with a Glaswegian after drinking whisky
- Took three old-fashioned steam train trips; I’m good now
- Visited London enough times to know my way around, but still feel the magic every time I step off the train at King’s Cross
- Launched the UK version of my proofreading and copyediting business, heatherhewer.com (tell your friends and colleagues!)
- Still can’t get the hang of “Alright?” “Yeah, alright” as a greeting. What is wrong with me?
I recently scooped up a cheap flight to Toronto that happened to coincide nicely with Canadian Thanksgiving, although next time I’ll give myself a few more days recovering from jet lag before hitting the feast itself, so I will actually remember it properly. Note to self: over-tiredness and a generously poured Riesling do not mix. Unless you want to cement your reputation as the loopiest member of the family when you’re not falling asleep in your ham.
My reasons for visiting were to see family and friends, walk the mean streets of Toronto from the perspective of being away for over a year, and compare it to my new life in Leeds. Oh, and eat a few meals that I have been craving for ages:
- Caplansky’s – haven’t been able to find Jewish deli food that tastes like home over here – it’s just different. My first bite of brisket on rye produced an “oh” sound that was half sensual, half heartache.
Brisket on rye, with fries, dill pickles and a Coke Diete (good ol’ bilingualism)
- Banjara – I have two experiments going on right now. I know what curries in Leeds are like, and wanted to see how my old fave, Banjara, measured up. I also have a Yorkshire native heading to Toronto next spring and I want to see what he thinks too. Banjara did fine, but living in the Leeds Bradford area means I don’t need a ticket home for amazing curries.
- Dim Sum at Kwan . Something all of my friends have in common is their ability to take me to restaurants that are exactly what I was craving, even if I didn’t know it. Went for lunch/brunch and noticed that I didn’t have dinner that night. That almost never happens.
- Bagels and cream cheese – yes, I know there’s Bagel Nash in Leeds, and they are very good, but bagels and cream cheese are simply ubiquitous in Toronto, meaning I could get my fix in the morning pretty much the moment I craved one, owing to the afore-mentioned ubiquitousness. It would be a bit like a bacon buttie over here.
- Despite a bit of effort, I didn’t make it to Terroni, and after a friend treated me to pizza at Mattachioni, I didn’t have to. Great pizza, fantastic wine list.
- Deep-fried pierogies – I missed the CNE this year, its Food Building and what I thought was my only chance at deep-fried pierogies, but my friend took me to the new Loaded Pierogi where I could simultaneously kill my craving for buffalo chicken and pierogi. You haven’t lived until you’ve had it deep fried.
Rommel delivers a home run for my final Toronto lunch
I also returned home to pick up some much-needed supplies that I haven’t been able to find easily in the UK or were added to the list once I was Toronto-bound.
- Indoor temperature and humidity reader – we were quite cold in our house last winter and we were curious as to whether it was the temperature or the damp chill settling into the very marrow of our bones. Now we’ll be able to tell much more easily!
- Crest Pro-Health toothpaste – it was suggested that this was my only real reason for flying to Toronto, and well, they’re not wrong. Shopper’s Drug Mart even met me half way by having it on sale. Any friends or family heading over here, please pack some for me. It will become your rent for our guestroom. I hope you know I’m not kidding. And Crest – if you want to do a Tim Horton’s-style commercial of an expat’s aching need for your product, call me!
- A small (200 ml) bottle of Grand Marnier – as much as I love the fact that grocery stores, off-licences and little shops sell booze here, I do feel homesick for the huge selection and expertise the LCBO offers, along with a variety of bottle sizes for liquor. I use Grand Marnier in a few recipes at Christmas and don’t need a huge, expensive bottle of it.
- Sale rack finds at Anthropologie and Banana Republic. Two stores where I always walk straight to the sale section, as the regular prices are just laughable. Others must think so too, because the sale selection is always great!
- Girl Guide thin mint cookies (photo not available as I et them all). Synonymous with October for me.
- MEC raincoat with an adjustable hood that makes an umbrella unnecessary. Ha – that model is tall; it’s pretty much knee-length on me. I know there are similar stores to MEC over here, but they’re not MEC. You know?
- Toothbrush holder – why can I only find cups here? Gross! Honestly – with the no clothes dryers and the lack of airiness to your toothbrush cups, I think you Brits create a lot of your own damp issues.
Regrets, I have a few
- Didn’t make it over to Toronto Island
- Most days were hot enough that I never actually craved slightly stodgy but utterly delicious poutine, but now I’m kicking myself
- Didn’t visit The Caledonian (a Scottish whisky pub) but will console myself with another trip to Glasgow
I’ve gone native Brit-styles Continue reading →
I’ve got two new hobbies that complement each other bee-yoo-ti-fully. Knitting and podcasts. Podcasts and knitting.
I realise podcasts have been around for ages, and I’d often tried to get into them, sometimes listening to a random episode of something during a long stint in the kitchen, but nothing really stuck.
Until I found a podcast I really liked: The History of English . Etymology, linguistics and British/European history have long been interests of mine, and as a word nerd, learning about the evolution of the English language has been absolutely fascinating. Especially when I discovered that I’m living in an area of England that used to be known as The Danelaw .
Now I had a riveting podcast with over 80 episodes (and counting) to listen to, but needed a secondary activity to keep me busy while listening. While I do like to cook and potter around the house, I would find myself running out of things to do before the episode had finished but also didn’t really feel like playing yet another round of 2048 on my phone.
Around the same time, a friend here in Leeds convinced me to give knitting another try. I mean, we are in Yorkshire, once the wool capital of the world, and a place where sheep and wool are still incredibly important to Yorkshire’s livelihood and cultural identity. My village, Chapel Allerton, even supports a wool shop !
She picked me up the first issue of Simple Stylish Knitting,the best way I could have possibly re-learned how to knit. Each issue of the magazine contains a ball of yarn and a pattern for a 15 cm square to knit for a quilt. Each knitted square teaches a new stitch or pattern. Every issue also contains other simple projects that are growing progressively more detailed as each square is mastered. If the detailed instructions and photos aren’t quite enough to go on, they even have a YouTube channel with instruction videos – the only way I mastered the bobble stitch .
I tried knitting as a teen, started a horrible scarf and quickly gave it up as a bad job. In general I have never been very good at most crafts and visual arts – I was the kid who always got a C+ in art class, and happily switched to music and drama in high school. I don’t draw, I don’t paint, I don’t sew, I don’t make jewellery, and in general I’m okay with that – nobody can be good at everything, and I’m happy to be a good cook, writer and somewhat flukey photographer.
But, I think precisely because I don’t really identify as a knitter, it has been a fun, low-key thing to try. And someday I’ll have a massive quilt to be quite proud of.