It's almost May, which means that in the Netherlands, the yearly debate surrounding the remembrance of WWII is heating up again. We have our Remembrance Day on the 4th of May, with the national ceremony at 20:00. The 5th of May is Liberation Day, with lots of music and festivals around the country. There has been some debate as to whether the proportion of remembrance and celebration is quite right: many people are keen to celebrate their freedom, but not to remember those who died for it.
Having witnessed Remembrance Day on the 11th of November at the National War Monument in Canberra, I can tell you that our 'remembrance' pales in the light of the Anglo-Saxon way. This is partly a cultural thing: we Dutch don't like to dramatise things and we don't really have a strong military presence, and probably partly due to the fact that we weren't the liberators who sent thousands of young men halfway across the world to die on foreign soil, we were the ones who had to be liberated, after failing to keep out the enemy. Also, for the Allied forces, it's easy to determine who was 'good' and who was 'bad' in the war: we are still trying to come to terms with some of the things that Dutch people did to other Dutch people 70 years ago.
In a way, the whole debate surrounding the remembrance makes the event itself seem less important, at least to the younger generation who hasn't witnessed the war itself, or seen the effects on our parents. Which is why I turn to books, as with so many things in life. From an early age on, I've always been interested in WWII, and at some point I'd literally read all the WWII children's books our library stocked. It wasn't really a subject my grandparents talked a lot about, but for some reason I found it fascinating, so I went and got my information from elsewhere. As I got older and discovered 'real' literature this interest waned somewhat, but as I've been digging into 'the classics', I've come across several war books which have made a pretty big impression on me.
Firstly, there is All Quiet on the Western Front, a German account of WWI. 'We' were neutral in that one, so what is known as the Great War in other parts of the world isn't really a thing here, but this novel did bring the message home. I cannot imagine how anyone could ever start another war after reading that novel, which was probably why it was banned in Nazi Germany. I'd read some of the English war poets for my literature classes and was pretty familiar with that side of the story, but you keep forgetting that it was just as bad for those on the other side.
Then I read The Spy Who Came in From the Cold, which isn't about a 'live' war, but plays out in post-WWII Berlin. The Cold War is something that ended during my lifetime, so I have some memories of it (the fall of the Berlin Wall, most prominently, although I was very piqued when the country which I'd finally memorised as Czechoslovakia suddenly didn't exist anymore, and was now two separate countries). 'Cold' as it may have been, that war also changed many lives, and the setting of this novel made quite an impression.
Then I read Slaughterhouse 5, which you can't actually say anything proper about, except that again I cannot imagine anyone reading that novel and still being in favour of warfare. It is harrowing, and it will stay with me for some time to come. But I loved the jumbled-up style, and I wish I'd read this book before my 'trauma theory' essay for literature, as this would have been a great primary text to work with.
Concurrent with all the above, I've been reading De Ontdekking van de Hemel, which is translated as The Discovery of Heaven in English. This doesn't deal so much with WWII directly, but the after effects on Dutch society run throughout the novel.
And finally, my newest read is Brideshead Revisited. This was written during WWII by someone actively involved in WWII, and although most of the story takes place earlier, the whole atmosphere is that of a time gone by, destroyed by the War (amongst other things). In that sense, the novel has more in common with The Discovery of Heaven than any of the other novels written during a war.
In a way, I find these novels even more disconcerting. We can all imagine the horrors of war, but the effects that a war leaves on a society, the things that are lost and cannot be restored because something essential has been taken out, be it trust or innocence or a whole generation of young men, those effects are much harder to formulate and come to terms with. I cannot imagine how my country and my society would have been without WWII, because it took place and changed the world irreversibly. But through reading novels like these, we can get a glimpse of the profound impact a war can have on society. Maybe it isn't about whether we would have been 'good' or 'bad' during the war itself, but about how we go on when the war has ended, and peace will never be the same again.
Sunday, 19 April 2015
Monday, 6 April 2015
Queen Lear
To keep up on my Shakespeare, which is something they command you to do before you are given your MA in English Literature, I've visited no less than two Shakespeare plays so far this year (and I foresee a third in the summer, when the open-air Shakespeare Theatre in Diever will stage Romeo & Juliet). But in winter we decided to stay indoors, and watched the plays at the Stadsschouwburg in Groningen.
The first was Hamlet, my fifth or sixth Hamlet in all, played by The Tiger Lillies. I had never heard of them before, but Wikipedia tells us they are "a cult British musical trio", which is not who you expect to put on a Shakespeare play. To this end, they teamed up with 4 actors, who played the main characters during the real 'acting' parts of the play, while they connected the acted bits through song and dance and a bit of cabaret. There wasn't much in the way of props or setting, just one big panel with some windows and doors, which could be tilted all the way to the ground when they didn't need it. It was brilliantly done; good acting, wonderful music, the (sometimes very high-pitched) singing was great and very relevant to the play. It also showed that you don't need to put on all of Hamlet exactly as Shakespeare has written it; you can just take 4 people and the main scenes and the gist of the story, and it will still work. I've seen Hamlet done with 6 actors who also played their own musical instruments at the Globe in London, and that one was slightly better on the acting part, but this one was better on the musical part. Anyway; a great show.
There were several other Shakespeare performances in the Stadsschouwburg this year, but we decided to stick with the one as there were other plays to be watched and it is still pretty expensive. But then one of the other plays was cancelled because the theatre went bankrupt, and we decided to visit another Shakespeare play just because we could. This was to be Queen Lear, an adaptation of King Lear by Toneelgroep Amsterdam.
Now while Hamlet had been basically the play that Shakespeare intended, with some scenes and characters removed and some musical intermezzos added, this was something completely different. Not only had they translated the play from English to Dutch, but they also reversed most of the gender roles. King Lear became a queen, his three daughters were now three sons, and their two spouses (the dukes Albany and Cornwall) had become gold digging women. Kent was there, still a male, and the fool was also still male. These were all the characters, but they proved that you can play Lear with only 8 people (with one doubling as the madman on the heath). But if all that change wasn't enough, they also changed the setting to the current time; not a kingdom divided, but a company, with several obvious references to the recent banking crisis. You might think that this is a bit too much for poor King Lear, and in some ways it was. At first you kept trying to remember what the 'real' play was about, and what they changed and why they may have done that, and what was going to happen next. But then the story got underway and you kind of forgot that you were actually watching Lear, until some of the typical Lear stuff started to happen, like the storm or the blinding of Kent or the 'Never never never never never' line. Which was good, because it is recognisable, but it also felt a bit tacked-on, as if they were trying to prove to themselves that they were still really playing Lear and not something else. They play in itself was well done, great acting and a good atmosphere, but during these typical Lear things it all felt a bit too contrived. King Lear is a universally recognisable story about old age and seeing your inheritance dissolve into nothingness, and they could have kept it just like that. I can imagine that when you tell people they're going to see Queen Lear you feel like you're obliged to keep in some of the typical Shakespearean stuff, but to me, it was not really necessary. The story was good enough on it's own.
But anyway, this was enough Shakespeare for a while, until Romeo & Juliet will start in Diever. That play will also be translated to Dutch, but otherwise they usually keep things original, and they have a large cast of volunteers so lots of characters will be there. It's good to see so many different versions of these classic stories, it shows how timeless and universal they are, even when translated to music or our modern times. But once in a while, it's still good to see the original thing, with lots of actors, in the open air.
The first was Hamlet, my fifth or sixth Hamlet in all, played by The Tiger Lillies. I had never heard of them before, but Wikipedia tells us they are "a cult British musical trio", which is not who you expect to put on a Shakespeare play. To this end, they teamed up with 4 actors, who played the main characters during the real 'acting' parts of the play, while they connected the acted bits through song and dance and a bit of cabaret. There wasn't much in the way of props or setting, just one big panel with some windows and doors, which could be tilted all the way to the ground when they didn't need it. It was brilliantly done; good acting, wonderful music, the (sometimes very high-pitched) singing was great and very relevant to the play. It also showed that you don't need to put on all of Hamlet exactly as Shakespeare has written it; you can just take 4 people and the main scenes and the gist of the story, and it will still work. I've seen Hamlet done with 6 actors who also played their own musical instruments at the Globe in London, and that one was slightly better on the acting part, but this one was better on the musical part. Anyway; a great show.
There were several other Shakespeare performances in the Stadsschouwburg this year, but we decided to stick with the one as there were other plays to be watched and it is still pretty expensive. But then one of the other plays was cancelled because the theatre went bankrupt, and we decided to visit another Shakespeare play just because we could. This was to be Queen Lear, an adaptation of King Lear by Toneelgroep Amsterdam.
Now while Hamlet had been basically the play that Shakespeare intended, with some scenes and characters removed and some musical intermezzos added, this was something completely different. Not only had they translated the play from English to Dutch, but they also reversed most of the gender roles. King Lear became a queen, his three daughters were now three sons, and their two spouses (the dukes Albany and Cornwall) had become gold digging women. Kent was there, still a male, and the fool was also still male. These were all the characters, but they proved that you can play Lear with only 8 people (with one doubling as the madman on the heath). But if all that change wasn't enough, they also changed the setting to the current time; not a kingdom divided, but a company, with several obvious references to the recent banking crisis. You might think that this is a bit too much for poor King Lear, and in some ways it was. At first you kept trying to remember what the 'real' play was about, and what they changed and why they may have done that, and what was going to happen next. But then the story got underway and you kind of forgot that you were actually watching Lear, until some of the typical Lear stuff started to happen, like the storm or the blinding of Kent or the 'Never never never never never' line. Which was good, because it is recognisable, but it also felt a bit tacked-on, as if they were trying to prove to themselves that they were still really playing Lear and not something else. They play in itself was well done, great acting and a good atmosphere, but during these typical Lear things it all felt a bit too contrived. King Lear is a universally recognisable story about old age and seeing your inheritance dissolve into nothingness, and they could have kept it just like that. I can imagine that when you tell people they're going to see Queen Lear you feel like you're obliged to keep in some of the typical Shakespearean stuff, but to me, it was not really necessary. The story was good enough on it's own.
But anyway, this was enough Shakespeare for a while, until Romeo & Juliet will start in Diever. That play will also be translated to Dutch, but otherwise they usually keep things original, and they have a large cast of volunteers so lots of characters will be there. It's good to see so many different versions of these classic stories, it shows how timeless and universal they are, even when translated to music or our modern times. But once in a while, it's still good to see the original thing, with lots of actors, in the open air.
Tuesday, 31 March 2015
52 book challenge - March
So I started my 52 book challenge a little more than an month ago, and to keep myself motivated through sheer peer pressure, I'll try to give monthly updates whenever I actually remember.
Last time, I was in week 8, and I'd read 6 books in total. I've made some progress until now, but not as much as I would have liked. We're currently in week 14, and here are the books I've read since last time:
7 The Sleeper and the Spindle - Neil Gaiman
8 Dit kan niet waar zijn - Joris Luyendijk
9 Gratis geld voor iedereen - Rutger Bregman
10 Dept. of Speculation - Jenny Offill
Yup, I am now officially 4 books behind. But I'm reading two books at the same time, so I may be catching up (or so I tell myself), or at least not falling behind even more.
Other noteworthy things: two of the books on the list above are Dutch. I don't really read a lot of Dutch books, but there have been some good ones coming out recently, so I've been buying and reading those. Interestingly, both Dutch books are also non-fiction. I wasn't sure about including non-fiction books on this list, but because I will never ever make 52 books in a year if I don't, they're there. Also, I've already sneaked in one of the very short novels I have saved up to 'make up' for a whole week with a novel that I can just read in 3-4 hours. Dept of Speculation also only took about an afternoon to read, so technically that's in the short novel category too.
Anyway, the list so far doesn't really seem that promising for the future of the whole challenge, but I'm still pretty positive, with several holidays coming up in the near future. I'll try and write another update at the end of April, and we'll see how things stand then. In the meantime, I'll get back to John le Carre.
Last time, I was in week 8, and I'd read 6 books in total. I've made some progress until now, but not as much as I would have liked. We're currently in week 14, and here are the books I've read since last time:
7 The Sleeper and the Spindle - Neil Gaiman
8 Dit kan niet waar zijn - Joris Luyendijk
9 Gratis geld voor iedereen - Rutger Bregman
10 Dept. of Speculation - Jenny Offill
Yup, I am now officially 4 books behind. But I'm reading two books at the same time, so I may be catching up (or so I tell myself), or at least not falling behind even more.
Other noteworthy things: two of the books on the list above are Dutch. I don't really read a lot of Dutch books, but there have been some good ones coming out recently, so I've been buying and reading those. Interestingly, both Dutch books are also non-fiction. I wasn't sure about including non-fiction books on this list, but because I will never ever make 52 books in a year if I don't, they're there. Also, I've already sneaked in one of the very short novels I have saved up to 'make up' for a whole week with a novel that I can just read in 3-4 hours. Dept of Speculation also only took about an afternoon to read, so technically that's in the short novel category too.
Anyway, the list so far doesn't really seem that promising for the future of the whole challenge, but I'm still pretty positive, with several holidays coming up in the near future. I'll try and write another update at the end of April, and we'll see how things stand then. In the meantime, I'll get back to John le Carre.
Sunday, 22 March 2015
Veg patches
So most of you will probably know by now that we have a small vegetable patch in the back garden, in which we try to grow some food, with various outcomes. Potatoes, apples, pumpkins and strawberries appear to love it here, while carrots, lettuce and cauliflower don't really want to do anything. This year, we're sticking to our success stories, and therefore we've already put the potatoes in the ground (in a different place than last year, of course).
We started quite early this year, because the major supermarket chain in the Netherlands decided to jump on the whole 'authentic food' bandwagon and give out miniature vegetable patches with every 10 Euros of groceries you bought. Technically they're not only veg patches but also herb gardens, as you can also get stuff like thyme and rosemary, but they called them 'moestuintjes' (= veg patches) nonetheless.
I've talked to several (freelance) marketing professionals in the last few weeks who cannot comprehend how this supermarket chain has another 'hit' by giving away stuff that most people usually turn up their noses at, but somehow little boxes are popping up left right and centre on the window sills. How many of these will actually turn into proper plants or be planted out when the time comes remains to be seen.
Of course, we will take our little plant proteges very seriously. We got 7 'patches' in total: aubergine, broccoli, strawberries, cherry tomatoes, thyme, spinach and endive. Luckily, most of them are plants we've already grown and/or plants that like our soil. We've put the first 5 of them in their boxes already, and the broccoli and cherry tomatoes have come up really quickly, so we've put them in bigger pots ready to be planted outside when the temperatures get a bit higher. The thyme is now also showing two very tiny leaves, but the aubergines and strawberries don't appear to be doing much as of yet. We won't put the leaf vegetables out until about halfway through April, because these tend to grow pretty quickly and we don't want to see them wither away in the cold March air.
Apart from these new plants, we still have a lot of strawberry plants from last year, plus the apple tree, and a lot of pumpkin seeds from the two pumpkins we grew last year (and didn't eat, because I really just like to look at them and marvel at the fact that we've grown these things in a small, shaded garden in the middle of the city). We may buy more peppers at some point, but with the 'free' veg patches our own patch is filling up pretty quickly. Hopefully, this will be the last year we grow stuff here, as we are now seriously looking at moving to a place with a bigger garden before next spring. But even if we get half the amount of food we grew last year, I'll still be a happy gardener!
We started quite early this year, because the major supermarket chain in the Netherlands decided to jump on the whole 'authentic food' bandwagon and give out miniature vegetable patches with every 10 Euros of groceries you bought. Technically they're not only veg patches but also herb gardens, as you can also get stuff like thyme and rosemary, but they called them 'moestuintjes' (= veg patches) nonetheless.
I've talked to several (freelance) marketing professionals in the last few weeks who cannot comprehend how this supermarket chain has another 'hit' by giving away stuff that most people usually turn up their noses at, but somehow little boxes are popping up left right and centre on the window sills. How many of these will actually turn into proper plants or be planted out when the time comes remains to be seen.
Of course, we will take our little plant proteges very seriously. We got 7 'patches' in total: aubergine, broccoli, strawberries, cherry tomatoes, thyme, spinach and endive. Luckily, most of them are plants we've already grown and/or plants that like our soil. We've put the first 5 of them in their boxes already, and the broccoli and cherry tomatoes have come up really quickly, so we've put them in bigger pots ready to be planted outside when the temperatures get a bit higher. The thyme is now also showing two very tiny leaves, but the aubergines and strawberries don't appear to be doing much as of yet. We won't put the leaf vegetables out until about halfway through April, because these tend to grow pretty quickly and we don't want to see them wither away in the cold March air.
Apart from these new plants, we still have a lot of strawberry plants from last year, plus the apple tree, and a lot of pumpkin seeds from the two pumpkins we grew last year (and didn't eat, because I really just like to look at them and marvel at the fact that we've grown these things in a small, shaded garden in the middle of the city). We may buy more peppers at some point, but with the 'free' veg patches our own patch is filling up pretty quickly. Hopefully, this will be the last year we grow stuff here, as we are now seriously looking at moving to a place with a bigger garden before next spring. But even if we get half the amount of food we grew last year, I'll still be a happy gardener!
Saturday, 21 March 2015
Getting a haircut
There are some reoccurring things in one's life that you have to repeat after a couple of months. These include going to the dentist, having your eyes checked (if you're a contact or glasses-wearer), going to your GP or getting your meds. Mostly, I find these things an annoyance because I don't have that much time, but mostly they're more useful than terrible.
There is one exception to this rule; going to the hairdresser to have my hair cut. I really dread this, because of two things:
1 I don't really pay that much attention to what my hair is doing or how long it's getting, so I usually don't go to a hairdresser until it's about 2 months too late, leaving my hair too long and frizzly;
2 I don't really 'fit in' with people who pay a lot of attention to their hair and hairstyle and make-up etc, which leaves me short of conversation topics while I'm there, and generally creates an awkward atmosphere for all involved.
These things are of course related; because I feel really awkward trying to make conversation while I'm there, I keep postponing actually going, which makes the person cutting my hair even more exasperated with the state of my hair when I finally do go. Thus making me feel even less like a normal human being who should actually be allowed in a hairdresser's.
Although I'm really happy with the result once I've managed to find the time and the courage to actually go, and always plan on bettering my life and visiting more often, the pattern is very well-ingrained and somehow always repeats itself.
The funny thing is; most people I know don't like to go. Usually, because they always get a different result than what they opted for; hair either too short or in a weird way that you can never actually replicate at home. I personally never have this problem, because I always ask for my hair in exactly the same way, and after a couple of times memorised the lingo that the hairdresser uses when they ask the confirmation questions about what you want, so I just tell them those words from the beginning and usually end up with exactly the same hair. Which is thoroughly disappointing to the person who has just cut my hair, because it is a style that doesn't really work when you wear it down, but which works perfectly when you put it in a ponytail or bun, which is how I wear my hair 98% of the time. So I'm happy with it.
And the other thing I hear other people mention about not liking to have their hair cut is the same problem I'm having; the lack of suitable conversation topics that leads to awkward silences. This concerns women, generally, as men either have silent hairdressers or are out of there so fast that the lack of conversation doesn't really matter. And I even know several other women who postpone having their hair cut because of this. So I'm not alone.
However, contrary to all expectations, I had my hair cut yesterday, and it all went swimmingly. The girl cutting my hair was one I'd already seen several times earlier, so we had some recurring topics that we could use. Also, we're of almost the same age, which makes things easier. And, most important of all, we'd both just visited Australia, so we spent about 20 minutes talking about that. We never even got to the question of why my hair was way too long and dry as dust.
Which got me thinking; maybe the solution is that when you make an appointment to have your hair cut, you also hand in a list of personal information, including your age and hometown, but also recent experiences and interests. That way, they can match you to someone who has the same interests, so you have something to talk about.
Also, hairdressers should realise that they are abnormally interested in all things concerning hair (an understandable occupational hazard) but that most other people don't really care that much. So when they comment about styles or products or whatever, and get a terse reply, they should really drop the subject instead of asking even more questions or suggesting difficult products or procedures to 'amend' problems that the person whose hair it is doesn't really have. This would take away a lot of the pre-cutting anxiety, which leads to people going to the hairdresser's more often, which probably also amends the disastrous state one's hair can get into. It's win-win all around.
It would make me, and my tormented hair, a lot happier and more relaxed. Because really, having your hair cut should be just that; having your hair cut.
There is one exception to this rule; going to the hairdresser to have my hair cut. I really dread this, because of two things:
1 I don't really pay that much attention to what my hair is doing or how long it's getting, so I usually don't go to a hairdresser until it's about 2 months too late, leaving my hair too long and frizzly;
2 I don't really 'fit in' with people who pay a lot of attention to their hair and hairstyle and make-up etc, which leaves me short of conversation topics while I'm there, and generally creates an awkward atmosphere for all involved.
These things are of course related; because I feel really awkward trying to make conversation while I'm there, I keep postponing actually going, which makes the person cutting my hair even more exasperated with the state of my hair when I finally do go. Thus making me feel even less like a normal human being who should actually be allowed in a hairdresser's.
Although I'm really happy with the result once I've managed to find the time and the courage to actually go, and always plan on bettering my life and visiting more often, the pattern is very well-ingrained and somehow always repeats itself.
The funny thing is; most people I know don't like to go. Usually, because they always get a different result than what they opted for; hair either too short or in a weird way that you can never actually replicate at home. I personally never have this problem, because I always ask for my hair in exactly the same way, and after a couple of times memorised the lingo that the hairdresser uses when they ask the confirmation questions about what you want, so I just tell them those words from the beginning and usually end up with exactly the same hair. Which is thoroughly disappointing to the person who has just cut my hair, because it is a style that doesn't really work when you wear it down, but which works perfectly when you put it in a ponytail or bun, which is how I wear my hair 98% of the time. So I'm happy with it.
And the other thing I hear other people mention about not liking to have their hair cut is the same problem I'm having; the lack of suitable conversation topics that leads to awkward silences. This concerns women, generally, as men either have silent hairdressers or are out of there so fast that the lack of conversation doesn't really matter. And I even know several other women who postpone having their hair cut because of this. So I'm not alone.
However, contrary to all expectations, I had my hair cut yesterday, and it all went swimmingly. The girl cutting my hair was one I'd already seen several times earlier, so we had some recurring topics that we could use. Also, we're of almost the same age, which makes things easier. And, most important of all, we'd both just visited Australia, so we spent about 20 minutes talking about that. We never even got to the question of why my hair was way too long and dry as dust.
Which got me thinking; maybe the solution is that when you make an appointment to have your hair cut, you also hand in a list of personal information, including your age and hometown, but also recent experiences and interests. That way, they can match you to someone who has the same interests, so you have something to talk about.
Also, hairdressers should realise that they are abnormally interested in all things concerning hair (an understandable occupational hazard) but that most other people don't really care that much. So when they comment about styles or products or whatever, and get a terse reply, they should really drop the subject instead of asking even more questions or suggesting difficult products or procedures to 'amend' problems that the person whose hair it is doesn't really have. This would take away a lot of the pre-cutting anxiety, which leads to people going to the hairdresser's more often, which probably also amends the disastrous state one's hair can get into. It's win-win all around.
It would make me, and my tormented hair, a lot happier and more relaxed. Because really, having your hair cut should be just that; having your hair cut.
Monday, 23 February 2015
52 books challenge - start
In December, several of my old study mates posted how many books they'd read in 2014. Most of them apparently had set some sort of goal for themselves, which usually lay somewhere between 100 and 150. One extreme outlier wanted to read 300 books, but 'only' got to about 260.
Imagine reading 260 books in a year! That's almost 1 a day! I've had to implement some contemporary-classics shift to accommodate all the books I want to read, but with 260 books you wouldn't need any of that, you could just read everything and anything you wanted.
Now 300 or even 100 books in a year is never going to happen with my job and otherwise quite busy life, but I also decided to set some sort of goal for myself, because I do want to read more (I want to do lots of things more, like playing the piano and Postcrossing and writing, but reading is one of those things you can do in otherwise unused moments, such as on a train with a crappy wifi connection, which makes it easier to fit in).
So I set myself the goal of 52 books, or 1 book a week. This, I felt, was pretty reasonable, surely I would manage to read one book a week. I've called this my '52 book challenge', because it does feel like a challenge some times. I've been going at it for 8 weeks (today is the first day of week 9) and I feel like I've been doing pretty well.
Let's see what I've read so far this year (not counting Crime & Punishment, which I finished this year but didn't start):
1 The Children Act - Ian McEwan
2 My Brief History - Stephen Hawking
3 All Quiet on the Western Front - Erich Maria Remarque
4 Number9dream - David Mitchell
5 The Lost World - Michael Crichton
6 The Rosie Effect - Graeme Simsion
Okay, so maybe the contemporary-classic system is not working as flawlessly as I would have liked. And also, I am 2 books behind. But really, that's nothing, in a good holiday week I can read 6 or 7 books in total, so I will make up for that at some point. Also, I have some nice thin books stacked up which will take me about a day to finish and will quickly get me back on schedule. For now, the biggest challenge is deciding what I'm going to read next, as I finished The Rosie Effect this morning and have several contenders for my next read.
I will try to keep you updated on my reading progress, success and/or failure, and if you have any recommendations as to what I should definitely read this year, tell me!
Imagine reading 260 books in a year! That's almost 1 a day! I've had to implement some contemporary-classics shift to accommodate all the books I want to read, but with 260 books you wouldn't need any of that, you could just read everything and anything you wanted.
Now 300 or even 100 books in a year is never going to happen with my job and otherwise quite busy life, but I also decided to set some sort of goal for myself, because I do want to read more (I want to do lots of things more, like playing the piano and Postcrossing and writing, but reading is one of those things you can do in otherwise unused moments, such as on a train with a crappy wifi connection, which makes it easier to fit in).
So I set myself the goal of 52 books, or 1 book a week. This, I felt, was pretty reasonable, surely I would manage to read one book a week. I've called this my '52 book challenge', because it does feel like a challenge some times. I've been going at it for 8 weeks (today is the first day of week 9) and I feel like I've been doing pretty well.
Let's see what I've read so far this year (not counting Crime & Punishment, which I finished this year but didn't start):
1 The Children Act - Ian McEwan
2 My Brief History - Stephen Hawking
3 All Quiet on the Western Front - Erich Maria Remarque
4 Number9dream - David Mitchell
5 The Lost World - Michael Crichton
6 The Rosie Effect - Graeme Simsion
Okay, so maybe the contemporary-classic system is not working as flawlessly as I would have liked. And also, I am 2 books behind. But really, that's nothing, in a good holiday week I can read 6 or 7 books in total, so I will make up for that at some point. Also, I have some nice thin books stacked up which will take me about a day to finish and will quickly get me back on schedule. For now, the biggest challenge is deciding what I'm going to read next, as I finished The Rosie Effect this morning and have several contenders for my next read.
I will try to keep you updated on my reading progress, success and/or failure, and if you have any recommendations as to what I should definitely read this year, tell me!
Sunday, 22 February 2015
Piano update
So a while back I posted about my piano revival; after 10 years of not playing, mainly due to lack of an actual piano, I decided to buy a digital piano and start to play again. My idea was to play as often as possible, but at least either a) 3 hours a week or b) 10 minutes after dinner every day. Unsurprisingly, this did not happen.
With our living room stuffed full of books as it is, the piano is hidden away in a room upstairs, a room that generally does not have the heating on. So if I want to play for more than 5 minutes and/or without freezing hands, I have to turn the heating on at least half an hour in advance. This kind of planning is not something my rare impromptu moments of playing are very well adapted to. Added to that, the piano is living up to its cheap nature; some of the keys make this awful 'woink' sound when you release them, so playing without headphones on is no fun, and playing with headphones one is also no fun because you want to hear the sound reverberate in the air. Also, it really does take a lot of energy, and an hour of playing still leaves me quite drained, both physically and mentally. But all that are just excuses for not playing as much as I actually could, or want to.
Because I still really love to play. I've been working through my old books chronologically, and am now in a position that I can actually play some of the more difficult and longer pieces in one go on the first retry. Some of my old favourites are completely back up to scratch and I use those as a reward when I get stuck in one of the more difficult ones. However, because I play so irregularly, my fingers still really really hurt when I try to do the more difficult things that involve lots of fast or repetitious moves. So after an hour, I do have to call it quits, even though I may just be warming up into something difficult. And then it may be more than a week before I find (or rather: make) time to play again.
I measure my progress against my ability to play Comptine d'un Autre Ete, which was the reason I originally started playing again. I would have thought I would be halfway decent on that song by now, given that I try to play it every time. But there is no way I will be playing it in its entirety for the next half year or so; today I finally managed to play the first eight bars correctly, without mistakes, and in the slowest speed ever.
The thing may be that on some of the older songs, my fingers still somehow 'remember' the moves, especially the difficult ones because I practised them so often. And with this new song, I have to learn all these tricks all over again, its not a question of repeating what I already could do once. So my progress is nowhere near as fast as I'd hoped, and that can be a bit hard, but I'm still hanging in there. Working towards this goal is a good thing, even though it is taking me really long and it is sometimes hard to stay motivated.
But I've promised myself that when I can actually play it, and still like playing, I may reward myself with a better (digital) piano. And maybe even lessons. Which I shouldn't have quit in the first place, but that decision is 10 years in the past, so best to focus on what I can still salvage today!
With our living room stuffed full of books as it is, the piano is hidden away in a room upstairs, a room that generally does not have the heating on. So if I want to play for more than 5 minutes and/or without freezing hands, I have to turn the heating on at least half an hour in advance. This kind of planning is not something my rare impromptu moments of playing are very well adapted to. Added to that, the piano is living up to its cheap nature; some of the keys make this awful 'woink' sound when you release them, so playing without headphones on is no fun, and playing with headphones one is also no fun because you want to hear the sound reverberate in the air. Also, it really does take a lot of energy, and an hour of playing still leaves me quite drained, both physically and mentally. But all that are just excuses for not playing as much as I actually could, or want to.
Because I still really love to play. I've been working through my old books chronologically, and am now in a position that I can actually play some of the more difficult and longer pieces in one go on the first retry. Some of my old favourites are completely back up to scratch and I use those as a reward when I get stuck in one of the more difficult ones. However, because I play so irregularly, my fingers still really really hurt when I try to do the more difficult things that involve lots of fast or repetitious moves. So after an hour, I do have to call it quits, even though I may just be warming up into something difficult. And then it may be more than a week before I find (or rather: make) time to play again.
I measure my progress against my ability to play Comptine d'un Autre Ete, which was the reason I originally started playing again. I would have thought I would be halfway decent on that song by now, given that I try to play it every time. But there is no way I will be playing it in its entirety for the next half year or so; today I finally managed to play the first eight bars correctly, without mistakes, and in the slowest speed ever.
The thing may be that on some of the older songs, my fingers still somehow 'remember' the moves, especially the difficult ones because I practised them so often. And with this new song, I have to learn all these tricks all over again, its not a question of repeating what I already could do once. So my progress is nowhere near as fast as I'd hoped, and that can be a bit hard, but I'm still hanging in there. Working towards this goal is a good thing, even though it is taking me really long and it is sometimes hard to stay motivated.
But I've promised myself that when I can actually play it, and still like playing, I may reward myself with a better (digital) piano. And maybe even lessons. Which I shouldn't have quit in the first place, but that decision is 10 years in the past, so best to focus on what I can still salvage today!
Wednesday, 4 February 2015
The Lost Words
Many of you will know the Jurassic Park and Lost World films, but did you know that these movies are actually based on books? Neither did I, until about last October, when I was checking IMDB because of the new Jurassic World film and got stuck in a Wikipedia loop.
Now I wouldn't normally read novels in the 'techno-thriller' genre, not because I think I am above them, but because I have limited reading time and I'd like to spend that time on something really good (or at least worthwhile). Also, Michael Crichton wasn't very high on my 'to read' list. But sometimes, this kind of novel can be really nice to read, for example during a very long flight, or the many train journeys I've been taking for my job lately. Which is how I've read Jurassic Park while in Australia, and am currently reading The Lost World, the sequel.
I came to these novels expecting them to be like the films, at least in plot and characters, if not in setting and atmosphere. But funnily enough, it is exactly the other way around. The novels are very fast-paced and can leave me with my heart in my throat for minutes after I've put them down. The settings are also eerily similar; you know about as much of the surroundings as the characters in the story, and the descriptions are pretty vivid and graphic.
But that's where the similarities end. The plot lines, for example, are completely different. With The Lost World, the only thing that is really similar, is that there is this 'Site B' on Isla Sorna. And that Ian Malcolm visits it, at some point during the novel. All the other things, from the reason why to the people he meets there to the dinosaurs, are all completely different. Same goes for Jurassic Park; Spielberg took the basic premise of the amusement-park-with-dinos and turned that into a whole different thing. Interestingly, in the third Jurassic Park movie, the opening sequence is the same as the opening sequence in the first novel. So sometimes he does adhere to the story, only not in places where you'd expect it.
Does this mean the novels are weak compared to the films? You might think so, because Spielberg made up a lot on the side. The truth is, the novels have a very different angle; very scientific, and pretty philosophical. Ian Malcolm, much more the central character than Alan Grant, proposes his chaos theory and through that predicts most of the things that go wrong in the park. Added to that, the whole premise that genetic research and revitalisation of dinosaurs can only be profitable if they are put into an amusement park, instead of just studied on their own, stands out much more clearly in the novels. It is basically a critique of human intervention on nature, combined with a philosophical exploration of the connection between science and amusement. If that sounds pretty literary to you, that is because it is; apart from the scary thriller bits with the slashing dinosaurs, there is quite a lot of talking and philosophising going on. In some ways it reminded me of Life of Pi, which also explores the connection between wild animals in captivity and humans.
So if you find yourself in need of some dino entertainment while we wait for Jurassic World, why not try the novels? And if you can't be bothered about the whole Jurassic Park craze, maybe the novels are just the thing for you!
Now I wouldn't normally read novels in the 'techno-thriller' genre, not because I think I am above them, but because I have limited reading time and I'd like to spend that time on something really good (or at least worthwhile). Also, Michael Crichton wasn't very high on my 'to read' list. But sometimes, this kind of novel can be really nice to read, for example during a very long flight, or the many train journeys I've been taking for my job lately. Which is how I've read Jurassic Park while in Australia, and am currently reading The Lost World, the sequel.
I came to these novels expecting them to be like the films, at least in plot and characters, if not in setting and atmosphere. But funnily enough, it is exactly the other way around. The novels are very fast-paced and can leave me with my heart in my throat for minutes after I've put them down. The settings are also eerily similar; you know about as much of the surroundings as the characters in the story, and the descriptions are pretty vivid and graphic.
But that's where the similarities end. The plot lines, for example, are completely different. With The Lost World, the only thing that is really similar, is that there is this 'Site B' on Isla Sorna. And that Ian Malcolm visits it, at some point during the novel. All the other things, from the reason why to the people he meets there to the dinosaurs, are all completely different. Same goes for Jurassic Park; Spielberg took the basic premise of the amusement-park-with-dinos and turned that into a whole different thing. Interestingly, in the third Jurassic Park movie, the opening sequence is the same as the opening sequence in the first novel. So sometimes he does adhere to the story, only not in places where you'd expect it.
Does this mean the novels are weak compared to the films? You might think so, because Spielberg made up a lot on the side. The truth is, the novels have a very different angle; very scientific, and pretty philosophical. Ian Malcolm, much more the central character than Alan Grant, proposes his chaos theory and through that predicts most of the things that go wrong in the park. Added to that, the whole premise that genetic research and revitalisation of dinosaurs can only be profitable if they are put into an amusement park, instead of just studied on their own, stands out much more clearly in the novels. It is basically a critique of human intervention on nature, combined with a philosophical exploration of the connection between science and amusement. If that sounds pretty literary to you, that is because it is; apart from the scary thriller bits with the slashing dinosaurs, there is quite a lot of talking and philosophising going on. In some ways it reminded me of Life of Pi, which also explores the connection between wild animals in captivity and humans.
So if you find yourself in need of some dino entertainment while we wait for Jurassic World, why not try the novels? And if you can't be bothered about the whole Jurassic Park craze, maybe the novels are just the thing for you!
Saturday, 17 January 2015
The commercial side
I think the gap between this post and the previous one couldn't have been bigger; the despair and starkness of the WWI trenches compared to the story of commercialization that I'm going to tell below. But hey, sometimes my life is just one big potpourri of unconnected things.
Being a project manager at an educational publisher means you have to know a lot about one very particular thing (your subject, in my case biology) and not so much about lots of other things. These include people management, design, finance, marketing, sales, editing, IT, and which business meeting point has the best dinner possibilities combined with the shortest walk back to the train station. We have specialised departments for each of the things mentioned above, with people who have actually studied in their subject, same way as I have studied biology. But they, lucky them, do not really have to know that much about my field to still be able to do their work on my books properly (although our editor now knows more about protein synthesis than she'd ever care to). I, on the other hand, am constantly learning about their specialities.
One of my least developed areas, I and anyone who knows me would say, is commerce. When I call something 'commercial', it's not a positive thing. I never listen to commercial radio stations, for example, or watch the commercial channels on TV. I don't know that I ever owned a piece of clothing that had it's brand displayed for all the world to see. So doing the commercial things that come with the job can sometimes be a bit difficult.
Yesterday was a case in point. We were at a biology convention (the biggest biology convention of the Netherlands) and not only did I have to man our stand (which means talking to the 650+ teachers who attended the convention, answering their questions, handing out free goodies, and on occasion try to get them to buy our stuff), I also had to give a workshop. To be honest, it was only a small part of a bigger workshop, and my part wasn't really that important, and if I hadn't turned up none of the 35 people in the workshop would have noticed. But still, for me it was quite a big thing, because talking in front of a room full of people is not my favourite thing to do.
Thankfully, it all went well. It went better than well, because everybody listened and participated in the short assignment I'd thought up for them, and when we went through the answers they even forgave me for not knowing exactly why something was the right answer at some points (it was about linking words in educational texts, not exactly my area of expertise). I was dead tired and had a pounding headache, but nobody else seems to have noticed that, which was good. My publisher did the other 80% of the workshop and she made the good points and gave the right answers to the questions, to which I added some small bits of info when I thought she was being a bit too brief.
And then we went back to manning the stand and talking to people in friendly manners. I have never had one of those trainings in which you learn to find out whether someone will actually buy your stuff at some point, and how to ditch them as quickly as possible when you know they won't, so some of my conversations may have been pretty useless in a commercial sense, but I had fun and being nice to people is something I like to do. But still, after spending 12 hours anticipating other people's needs, questions and wishes, I'm going to be the most self absorbed person ever for the next 24.
Anyway, it's nice to know I'm slowly mastering yet another part of the jigsaw puzzle that is professional life.
Being a project manager at an educational publisher means you have to know a lot about one very particular thing (your subject, in my case biology) and not so much about lots of other things. These include people management, design, finance, marketing, sales, editing, IT, and which business meeting point has the best dinner possibilities combined with the shortest walk back to the train station. We have specialised departments for each of the things mentioned above, with people who have actually studied in their subject, same way as I have studied biology. But they, lucky them, do not really have to know that much about my field to still be able to do their work on my books properly (although our editor now knows more about protein synthesis than she'd ever care to). I, on the other hand, am constantly learning about their specialities.
One of my least developed areas, I and anyone who knows me would say, is commerce. When I call something 'commercial', it's not a positive thing. I never listen to commercial radio stations, for example, or watch the commercial channels on TV. I don't know that I ever owned a piece of clothing that had it's brand displayed for all the world to see. So doing the commercial things that come with the job can sometimes be a bit difficult.
Yesterday was a case in point. We were at a biology convention (the biggest biology convention of the Netherlands) and not only did I have to man our stand (which means talking to the 650+ teachers who attended the convention, answering their questions, handing out free goodies, and on occasion try to get them to buy our stuff), I also had to give a workshop. To be honest, it was only a small part of a bigger workshop, and my part wasn't really that important, and if I hadn't turned up none of the 35 people in the workshop would have noticed. But still, for me it was quite a big thing, because talking in front of a room full of people is not my favourite thing to do.
Thankfully, it all went well. It went better than well, because everybody listened and participated in the short assignment I'd thought up for them, and when we went through the answers they even forgave me for not knowing exactly why something was the right answer at some points (it was about linking words in educational texts, not exactly my area of expertise). I was dead tired and had a pounding headache, but nobody else seems to have noticed that, which was good. My publisher did the other 80% of the workshop and she made the good points and gave the right answers to the questions, to which I added some small bits of info when I thought she was being a bit too brief.
And then we went back to manning the stand and talking to people in friendly manners. I have never had one of those trainings in which you learn to find out whether someone will actually buy your stuff at some point, and how to ditch them as quickly as possible when you know they won't, so some of my conversations may have been pretty useless in a commercial sense, but I had fun and being nice to people is something I like to do. But still, after spending 12 hours anticipating other people's needs, questions and wishes, I'm going to be the most self absorbed person ever for the next 24.
Anyway, it's nice to know I'm slowly mastering yet another part of the jigsaw puzzle that is professional life.
Monday, 5 January 2015
The Children Act
With all our free days taken up by the Australia trip we didn't really have a Christmas holiday to speak of, but we had some days off, and on those days I managed to end one book, and read two more.
I finally finished reading Crime and Punishment, which I started somewhere between Canberra and Melbourne, and wasn't able to get through at any pace until I got to part five. I really don't know what it is with these classics; they take forever to get into, dragging on and on without you getting anywhere, and then two thirds of the way they finally become interesting, you finish them in a flash, and then wish there would have been more to read. I don't know much about Russia or Russian authors, and I read this novel in an English translation, but I think I can see the appeal.
Of the new novels, the first to start and last to finish was My Brief History, a memoir by Stephen Hawking. As this was called a memoir, I was hoping for some personal anecdotes and interesting bits about his free time and normal life, but this wasn't to be. There was one chapter on his pre-school childhood, one chapter on primary and secondary school, and chapter three already dives into his time at Oxford. He keeps saying how he is bad at math and formulas and not really that bright, but then continues chapter after chapter on papers he wrote as a fellow at Cambridge (Oxford, apparently, was glad to be rid of him) and tries to explain very very difficult stuff like imaginary time and why time travel is impossible. It somehow turns in another one of his incomprehensible books on physics and cosmology. Which is sad, because I wanted to find out more about the man behind all that. Also, I didn't understand half of what he was trying to tell me, but I get that a lot with relativity.
The other book, a novel, was The Children Act by Ian McEwan. Now most of you may know by now that Ian McEwan is my favourite author of all time. I love his style, his long flowing sentences, how he can describe a room and the people in it and the atmosphere and the history of the room and the past of people in it with just a few sentences is brilliant. I also think he wrote the best novel I have ever read, which is Atonement. Closely followed by Saturday. With this newest novel, however, he is once again improving upon himself.
After Atonement and Saturday, he wrote two novels I did not really care for, Solar and Sugartooth, which made me feel that maybe he was past his high point. Which is fine, we cannot expect great writers to be great writers with every novel they write, and I will keep re-reading the older ones for quite a while to come, but it is kind of sad to know. But with this novel, The Children Act, he is completely back on his high level.
I won't tell you too much about the plot, because it is quite a short novel, and most of the important points are part of the novel's magic. But I will tell you that the main character, Fiona, is one of the best he's ever written. She is a judge on family matters (after reading the first chapter I had to Wikipedia a lot about the British justice system before I could continue reading) who has no children of her own but daily has to decide on the fate of other people's children. Immediately, you can feel the central conflict developing, especially as the story reveals some trouble between her and her husband. There are some examples of issues she has had to judge on, including cases dealing with religious beliefs preventing people from receiving certain kinds of care, which is the main issue of this novel. Fiona has to rule on a case of a Jehovah's Witness boy refusing a blood transfusion that will safe his life on the grounds of his belief. The way McEwan tiptoes around all the delicate issues of such a troublesome premise is very beautifully done; there is no judgement about such decisions, apart from what Fiona finally rules. He has this remarkable way of writing about very complex and possibly dangerous subjects as if they are no worry at all.
Also, in acting you have the system of 'method acting', in which an actor literally becomes his character. I think Ian McEwan must do the same for his characters, because in every one of his novels the protagonist is someone completely different, with so many tiny details about their lives and occupation that it is almost hard to belief that he himself was never a family judge. While in Saturday, you almost belief he studied to be a surgeon for six years, and in Amsterdam you live through the throes of a classical composer in the midst of a major composition. Here, you almost become Fiona as she ponders he decision and the consequences.
Really, the only reason why I will still prefer Atonement and Saturday to this novel is that it's so short. I finished it in less than a day; each of its chapters is of sizable length, but there being only five I was still done pretty quickly. Not that there is anything missing, the story has several layers and follows a nice arch, but still, more McEwan is always better. This feels more like a novella than a novel, and knowing that we will have to wait another two years for another story to come out really makes one regret that this one wasn't longer. But; read it. Especially if you've never read any Ian McEwan before, it is a wonderful display of his style and craftmanship of creating very deep characters, and you will finish it in a good afternoon. And then you will have all his other novels still before you!
I, on the other hand, have dived back into the classics, and am now in the middle of the First World War with All Quiet on the Western Front. I haven't read much of it yet, but I can already tell you that that war sucked as much for the common German soldier as it did for the British, which was to be expected.
I finally finished reading Crime and Punishment, which I started somewhere between Canberra and Melbourne, and wasn't able to get through at any pace until I got to part five. I really don't know what it is with these classics; they take forever to get into, dragging on and on without you getting anywhere, and then two thirds of the way they finally become interesting, you finish them in a flash, and then wish there would have been more to read. I don't know much about Russia or Russian authors, and I read this novel in an English translation, but I think I can see the appeal.
Of the new novels, the first to start and last to finish was My Brief History, a memoir by Stephen Hawking. As this was called a memoir, I was hoping for some personal anecdotes and interesting bits about his free time and normal life, but this wasn't to be. There was one chapter on his pre-school childhood, one chapter on primary and secondary school, and chapter three already dives into his time at Oxford. He keeps saying how he is bad at math and formulas and not really that bright, but then continues chapter after chapter on papers he wrote as a fellow at Cambridge (Oxford, apparently, was glad to be rid of him) and tries to explain very very difficult stuff like imaginary time and why time travel is impossible. It somehow turns in another one of his incomprehensible books on physics and cosmology. Which is sad, because I wanted to find out more about the man behind all that. Also, I didn't understand half of what he was trying to tell me, but I get that a lot with relativity.
The other book, a novel, was The Children Act by Ian McEwan. Now most of you may know by now that Ian McEwan is my favourite author of all time. I love his style, his long flowing sentences, how he can describe a room and the people in it and the atmosphere and the history of the room and the past of people in it with just a few sentences is brilliant. I also think he wrote the best novel I have ever read, which is Atonement. Closely followed by Saturday. With this newest novel, however, he is once again improving upon himself.
After Atonement and Saturday, he wrote two novels I did not really care for, Solar and Sugartooth, which made me feel that maybe he was past his high point. Which is fine, we cannot expect great writers to be great writers with every novel they write, and I will keep re-reading the older ones for quite a while to come, but it is kind of sad to know. But with this novel, The Children Act, he is completely back on his high level.
I won't tell you too much about the plot, because it is quite a short novel, and most of the important points are part of the novel's magic. But I will tell you that the main character, Fiona, is one of the best he's ever written. She is a judge on family matters (after reading the first chapter I had to Wikipedia a lot about the British justice system before I could continue reading) who has no children of her own but daily has to decide on the fate of other people's children. Immediately, you can feel the central conflict developing, especially as the story reveals some trouble between her and her husband. There are some examples of issues she has had to judge on, including cases dealing with religious beliefs preventing people from receiving certain kinds of care, which is the main issue of this novel. Fiona has to rule on a case of a Jehovah's Witness boy refusing a blood transfusion that will safe his life on the grounds of his belief. The way McEwan tiptoes around all the delicate issues of such a troublesome premise is very beautifully done; there is no judgement about such decisions, apart from what Fiona finally rules. He has this remarkable way of writing about very complex and possibly dangerous subjects as if they are no worry at all.
Also, in acting you have the system of 'method acting', in which an actor literally becomes his character. I think Ian McEwan must do the same for his characters, because in every one of his novels the protagonist is someone completely different, with so many tiny details about their lives and occupation that it is almost hard to belief that he himself was never a family judge. While in Saturday, you almost belief he studied to be a surgeon for six years, and in Amsterdam you live through the throes of a classical composer in the midst of a major composition. Here, you almost become Fiona as she ponders he decision and the consequences.
Really, the only reason why I will still prefer Atonement and Saturday to this novel is that it's so short. I finished it in less than a day; each of its chapters is of sizable length, but there being only five I was still done pretty quickly. Not that there is anything missing, the story has several layers and follows a nice arch, but still, more McEwan is always better. This feels more like a novella than a novel, and knowing that we will have to wait another two years for another story to come out really makes one regret that this one wasn't longer. But; read it. Especially if you've never read any Ian McEwan before, it is a wonderful display of his style and craftmanship of creating very deep characters, and you will finish it in a good afternoon. And then you will have all his other novels still before you!
I, on the other hand, have dived back into the classics, and am now in the middle of the First World War with All Quiet on the Western Front. I haven't read much of it yet, but I can already tell you that that war sucked as much for the common German soldier as it did for the British, which was to be expected.
Saturday, 13 December 2014
Wokkel
So to keep yourself from going completely mental from jet lag after a 30 hour flight from Sydney to Amsterdam, I recommend getting a kitten. Not the teeny tiny ones that can't function like a proper cat yet and need constant care, but one that is a little bit older, say about 3.5 months. This is what we did, and it worked pretty well for us.
We've had our 2 older cats (Darwin and Vrutsel) for a while now, but felt that Vrutsel was getting pretty lonely during the long days that we are at work. Because Vrutsel herself is still pretty young, we thought getting a kitten might help her because she would have company during the day, and maybe even someone to play with. The parents of a friend of mine had a nest of kittens, and we picked a black-and-white (Frisian cow style) one. It turned out to be a tomcat; we would have preferred a female but once chosen there was no going back. We decided to call him Wokkel, after the Wokkel crisps (by Lay's, it appears that these are only sold in the Netherlands). His (half) brother with very similar pattering is called Tictac and his sister is called Sisi, so we decided to stick with the food theme. My friends older sister would look after our cat and her own while we were in Australia, and we picked him up the day after our return.
Wokkel turned out to have grown quite a lot, and looks more like he is 6 months old rather than 3.5. His ears are gigantic compared to the rest of his head, and his paws are also relatively big, so he will probably keep on growing until he is a kitty force to be reckoned with. It is a very friendly cat, who likes to cuddle and purr and be amongst people (and other cats). He is still very playful, but he is also quite cheeky and inquisitive, which has led him to some tight corners. Vrutsel is very scared of him, as she is of almost everything, and yowls and hisses when he comes near. Wokkel is less than impressed, but they are getting along better and better each day. Darwin on the other hand, has accepted him outright, and they will share a lap if everyone sits quietly. However, Darwin is already pretty old, and can have his grumpy moments (which leads to tail swishing, which leads to Wokkel jumping Darwin's tail, which leads to more grumpiness). But all in all, Wokkel appears to be very happy, the other cats are mostly also content, and we were happy to have the distraction on our jet lag mangled brains.
So now we are five, with Wokkel not quite fulfilling the companionship role we had in mind for him, but still having taken up his place in our household smoothly. If only he could stop pushing all his toys under the couch...
We've had our 2 older cats (Darwin and Vrutsel) for a while now, but felt that Vrutsel was getting pretty lonely during the long days that we are at work. Because Vrutsel herself is still pretty young, we thought getting a kitten might help her because she would have company during the day, and maybe even someone to play with. The parents of a friend of mine had a nest of kittens, and we picked a black-and-white (Frisian cow style) one. It turned out to be a tomcat; we would have preferred a female but once chosen there was no going back. We decided to call him Wokkel, after the Wokkel crisps (by Lay's, it appears that these are only sold in the Netherlands). His (half) brother with very similar pattering is called Tictac and his sister is called Sisi, so we decided to stick with the food theme. My friends older sister would look after our cat and her own while we were in Australia, and we picked him up the day after our return.
Wokkel turned out to have grown quite a lot, and looks more like he is 6 months old rather than 3.5. His ears are gigantic compared to the rest of his head, and his paws are also relatively big, so he will probably keep on growing until he is a kitty force to be reckoned with. It is a very friendly cat, who likes to cuddle and purr and be amongst people (and other cats). He is still very playful, but he is also quite cheeky and inquisitive, which has led him to some tight corners. Vrutsel is very scared of him, as she is of almost everything, and yowls and hisses when he comes near. Wokkel is less than impressed, but they are getting along better and better each day. Darwin on the other hand, has accepted him outright, and they will share a lap if everyone sits quietly. However, Darwin is already pretty old, and can have his grumpy moments (which leads to tail swishing, which leads to Wokkel jumping Darwin's tail, which leads to more grumpiness). But all in all, Wokkel appears to be very happy, the other cats are mostly also content, and we were happy to have the distraction on our jet lag mangled brains.
So now we are five, with Wokkel not quite fulfilling the companionship role we had in mind for him, but still having taken up his place in our household smoothly. If only he could stop pushing all his toys under the couch...
Friday, 5 December 2014
Back from Down Under
After 30 days (4 of which were spent in air planes and on airports), we're back from Australia! And it's amazingly cold and dark and dreary here! Why did we ever leave the relaxed, sunny warmth of Down Under?
But before I get too sad about being home again; the trip was great, I won't describe every move we made in detail, because I've got a travel journal that runs 23 pages and I don't want to spend this day typing that over, but in broad lines we did the following:
Sydney (opera house, Harbour bridge, Taronga zoo, random jetlaggy wandering in an unfamiliar city)
Blue Mountains (National Pass hiking trail)
Abercrombie caves
Canberra (Parliament House and the War memorial on Remembrance day, very impressive ceremony)
Glenrowan (Ned Kelly's last stand)
Melbourne (little penguins at St Kilda's pier!)
Tower Hill reserve
Great Ocean Road (Twelve Apostles and several other geological rarities)
Adelaide (random wandering)
Wilpena Pound (peak climb)
Coober Pedy (slept in an 'underground' hostel)
Kings Canyon (Kings Canyon Rim walk)
Uluru (aka Ayers Rock; sunset viewing, sunrise viewing, base walk)
Kata Tjuka (aka the Olgas; very hot walk)
Alice Springs
Ghan train to Katherine
Katherine Gorge
Kakadu National Park (Nourlangie and Ubirr rock art sites)
Darwin (more random wandering)
Cairns (trip to Cape Tribulation, snorkeling at the Great Barrier Reef)
Which was all very nice, except for the Great Ocean Road which was mostly very cold and dreary. Also, I'm not really a city person, so we mostly spend our time there in the botanical gardens, which were very nice and well kept. But we did see the main stuff in each city, of course, because when are you ever going to be there again?
We saw lots and lots of wild animals, including kangaroos, wallabies, koalas, a dingo, little penguins, New Zealand fur seals, a possum, several emu and tons of other birds, all of which I have ticked off in the Australian bird book I bought. I have to add the numbers up, but it's got to be over 100 species, including both species of kookaburra, lots of water birds in Kakadu NP, and several parrots, some of which actually ate out of my hands. No cassowary, sadly. We also saw lots of reptiles, including lizards, dragons, and geckos, the best of which was the 1 meter long perentie that literally crossed our path in Kings Canyon.
Some observations on Australia and Australians:
- most people live in the cities but the countryside is the best place to be
- Australians are very polite and helpful, if you are the same
- Australians are all sports crazy, with people running and cycling up every steep incline in sight, even in 38 degrees C
- Australians are a lot more like the British than they would care to admit
- Aboriginal people have some of the best art and stories in the world
- most distances are put in time ('a 15 minute return walk') rather than distance, except for road signs
- people in Coober Pedy will call it 'humid' when there is 5% humidity
- people in Darwin will call it 'a fine day' when there is 85% humidity
- in the outback you can literally drive 50 km without seeing another car
- while camping the most annoying thing are the biting ants, and the grasshoppers falling into your food
- nothing has tried to sting us, bite us, or kill us, but we used some common sense
- there are clean, spacious public toilets everywhere, even if it's a town with only 600 people
- it is one of the most relaxed, warm and beautiful places I have ever been, and I can't wait to go back
We are sorting through the pictures now, and trying to get everything back into shape while still seriously jetlaggy and mostly very cold. The cats are unbelievably happy that we're back, and our parents probably too, although they didn't show it as much. We've still got 3 days to adapt and land, and then our travels will be truly over, until the next trip.
But before I get too sad about being home again; the trip was great, I won't describe every move we made in detail, because I've got a travel journal that runs 23 pages and I don't want to spend this day typing that over, but in broad lines we did the following:
Sydney (opera house, Harbour bridge, Taronga zoo, random jetlaggy wandering in an unfamiliar city)
Blue Mountains (National Pass hiking trail)
Abercrombie caves
Canberra (Parliament House and the War memorial on Remembrance day, very impressive ceremony)
Glenrowan (Ned Kelly's last stand)
Melbourne (little penguins at St Kilda's pier!)
Tower Hill reserve
Great Ocean Road (Twelve Apostles and several other geological rarities)
Adelaide (random wandering)
Wilpena Pound (peak climb)
Coober Pedy (slept in an 'underground' hostel)
Kings Canyon (Kings Canyon Rim walk)
Uluru (aka Ayers Rock; sunset viewing, sunrise viewing, base walk)
Kata Tjuka (aka the Olgas; very hot walk)
Alice Springs
Ghan train to Katherine
Katherine Gorge
Kakadu National Park (Nourlangie and Ubirr rock art sites)
Darwin (more random wandering)
Cairns (trip to Cape Tribulation, snorkeling at the Great Barrier Reef)
Which was all very nice, except for the Great Ocean Road which was mostly very cold and dreary. Also, I'm not really a city person, so we mostly spend our time there in the botanical gardens, which were very nice and well kept. But we did see the main stuff in each city, of course, because when are you ever going to be there again?
We saw lots and lots of wild animals, including kangaroos, wallabies, koalas, a dingo, little penguins, New Zealand fur seals, a possum, several emu and tons of other birds, all of which I have ticked off in the Australian bird book I bought. I have to add the numbers up, but it's got to be over 100 species, including both species of kookaburra, lots of water birds in Kakadu NP, and several parrots, some of which actually ate out of my hands. No cassowary, sadly. We also saw lots of reptiles, including lizards, dragons, and geckos, the best of which was the 1 meter long perentie that literally crossed our path in Kings Canyon.
Some observations on Australia and Australians:
- most people live in the cities but the countryside is the best place to be
- Australians are very polite and helpful, if you are the same
- Australians are all sports crazy, with people running and cycling up every steep incline in sight, even in 38 degrees C
- Australians are a lot more like the British than they would care to admit
- Aboriginal people have some of the best art and stories in the world
- most distances are put in time ('a 15 minute return walk') rather than distance, except for road signs
- people in Coober Pedy will call it 'humid' when there is 5% humidity
- people in Darwin will call it 'a fine day' when there is 85% humidity
- in the outback you can literally drive 50 km without seeing another car
- while camping the most annoying thing are the biting ants, and the grasshoppers falling into your food
- nothing has tried to sting us, bite us, or kill us, but we used some common sense
- there are clean, spacious public toilets everywhere, even if it's a town with only 600 people
- it is one of the most relaxed, warm and beautiful places I have ever been, and I can't wait to go back
We are sorting through the pictures now, and trying to get everything back into shape while still seriously jetlaggy and mostly very cold. The cats are unbelievably happy that we're back, and our parents probably too, although they didn't show it as much. We've still got 3 days to adapt and land, and then our travels will be truly over, until the next trip.
Saturday, 1 November 2014
Blogging time-out
So it's been a very hectic couple of weeks here, with lots of not-so-regular stuff happening, from celebrating my 29th birthday to swimming with dolphins, and in the less positive scale of things the death of my grandmother and a major train disruption that left me stranded at 11 at night. All things I would normally dedicate a blog post to, but as it has been a bit of a weird time, this hasn't really happened. Apart from blogging, I've been missing out on some of my other hobbies (Postcrossing, piano) too, so it's not that I don't want to write, it's a time-thing.
Rather than fixing this in the near future, I will be hopping on a plane to Australia to spend 4 weeks 'down under', so don't expect a quick revival. I will of course put a report of my travels here, but this may take a while. Unless I find a proper wifi spot and decide to write something while there, which would be the ultimate comeback from my time-out. But barring that highly improbable situation, I will be back in December!
Rather than fixing this in the near future, I will be hopping on a plane to Australia to spend 4 weeks 'down under', so don't expect a quick revival. I will of course put a report of my travels here, but this may take a while. Unless I find a proper wifi spot and decide to write something while there, which would be the ultimate comeback from my time-out. But barring that highly improbable situation, I will be back in December!
Sunday, 12 October 2014
Choux try-out
The Great British Bake Off has finished again, leaving us with a huge gap to fill on Wednesday evening. But also, many baking ideas.
One thing I've been wanting to make for a very long time is choux pastry. In the earlier Bake Off seasons, this was presented as one of the most difficult things to make, apart from filo pastry. Now, in the later seasons, all the contestants can just whip up a choux no questions asked, although they do explain that it is a tricky thing to get right.
I've investigated the stuff, and discovered that it is in fact twice cooked dough; first you cook it when you combine butter and flour with boiling water, and then you cook it again in the oven. What I'd like to know is who ever thought of this first, and why anyone in their right mind would want to tip flour into boiling water and then beat in eggs without having them scramble. Because the resulting dough isn't really all that special, it's actually pretty tasteless, and has to be filled with some kind of cream to be appetising.
Anyway, the ingredients list is very short:
125 ml water
50 g butter
65 g flour
2 eggs (beaten)
Preheat the oven to 200 C.
Put the water and butter in a pan and heat on a gentle heat until the butter has melted. Then bring the water to a boil, take off the heat, and quickly dump in all the flour at once. Start stirring frantically until the mixture forms a ball-like dough and comes away from the sides.
(I never thought this was actually going to happen on the first try, and that I was going to waste a lot of water, butter and flour in the process, but lo and behold, it worked!)
Now add the egg mixture a little at a time, beating thoroughly between until all the egg is absorbed. At this point, I realised I might have used a bigger pan, because the mixture kept sloshing over the side due to my vigorous beating.
When all the egg is absorbed you have nice shiny mixture, which you can pipe in whatever shape you want onto a baking parchment. I made some eclair shapes and some choux bun shapes.
Then it goes in the oven for 10 minutes at 200 C, and after that you turn the heat down to 170 and bake for another 30 minutes or until they are golden brown all around. I've found wildly varying baking times for these, so this is what I did, but I've also read recipes where they tell you to turn the heat up instead of down after the first 10 minutes.
As soon as they are done, take them out of the oven and pierce them to let the steam out. I was too late doing this with some of them, which means the steam will turn back into water and soak your choux buns, making them sloppy and inedible.
Leave to cool completely, split open, and fill with your favourite cream (I used whipped cream). You can drizzle chocolate over the top if you haven't forgotten to buy dark chocolate (which I did, and I felt too lazy to go back to the store).
Choux pastry in itself is pretty tasteless, as I already mentioned, but these were quite okay when filled with whipped cream. I am going to make them again pretty soon, letting them cook a bit longer and letting out the steam earlier, so they don't turn sloppy and we can actually eat all of them. But for a first attempt, it went a lot better than I'd ever expected!
One thing I've been wanting to make for a very long time is choux pastry. In the earlier Bake Off seasons, this was presented as one of the most difficult things to make, apart from filo pastry. Now, in the later seasons, all the contestants can just whip up a choux no questions asked, although they do explain that it is a tricky thing to get right.
I've investigated the stuff, and discovered that it is in fact twice cooked dough; first you cook it when you combine butter and flour with boiling water, and then you cook it again in the oven. What I'd like to know is who ever thought of this first, and why anyone in their right mind would want to tip flour into boiling water and then beat in eggs without having them scramble. Because the resulting dough isn't really all that special, it's actually pretty tasteless, and has to be filled with some kind of cream to be appetising.
Anyway, the ingredients list is very short:
125 ml water
50 g butter
65 g flour
2 eggs (beaten)
Preheat the oven to 200 C.
Put the water and butter in a pan and heat on a gentle heat until the butter has melted. Then bring the water to a boil, take off the heat, and quickly dump in all the flour at once. Start stirring frantically until the mixture forms a ball-like dough and comes away from the sides.
(I never thought this was actually going to happen on the first try, and that I was going to waste a lot of water, butter and flour in the process, but lo and behold, it worked!)
 |
| Ball-like choux pastry sans eggs. |
When all the egg is absorbed you have nice shiny mixture, which you can pipe in whatever shape you want onto a baking parchment. I made some eclair shapes and some choux bun shapes.
Then it goes in the oven for 10 minutes at 200 C, and after that you turn the heat down to 170 and bake for another 30 minutes or until they are golden brown all around. I've found wildly varying baking times for these, so this is what I did, but I've also read recipes where they tell you to turn the heat up instead of down after the first 10 minutes.
As soon as they are done, take them out of the oven and pierce them to let the steam out. I was too late doing this with some of them, which means the steam will turn back into water and soak your choux buns, making them sloppy and inedible.
Leave to cool completely, split open, and fill with your favourite cream (I used whipped cream). You can drizzle chocolate over the top if you haven't forgotten to buy dark chocolate (which I did, and I felt too lazy to go back to the store).
 |
| Eclairs filled with whipped cream (no chocolate). |
Wednesday, 1 October 2014
KitchenAid love
Wow, I actually haven't written anything in the whole of September. How did that go by so fast?
Anyway, now that it's October, and autumn is about to start and my birthday is creeping up (which is less and less of a good thing as years go by) I am hoping there will be more time to actually write stuff here. Because it's not that stuff hasn't been happening. A lot of stuff has been happening, it just that I was simply experiencing the stuff, and not able to write about it. And I will now stop using the word 'stuff'.
One of the things that happened which I can write about because I can be relatively brief is that I bought a KitchenAid. An Artisan KitchenAid, to be exact, in a deep red colour. And if you don't know what a KitchenAid is, go look up pictures now.
I've been wanting to have a KitchenAid for as long as I knew they existed, but first there was the sharing-a-kitchen-with-loads-of-other-(thieving)-people issue, then there was the no-money problem, and then there was the our-kitchen-is-smaller-than-most-people's-walk-in-closet thing. The last hasn't technically been resolved, but when brand-new KitchenAids were being sold for 2/3rds of the normal price, I couldn't resist. So I bought one (with some mental support from my boyfriend) and then waited patiently for 3 weeks for it to arrive.
But oh, how pretty it is! How shiny and strong and robust. Also, how heavy (due to the smallness of the kitchen, I have to move the thing in place whenever I want to use it, and KitchenAids clearly don't expect to be put away in dusty cupboards). But it works like a charm. It came with a big (4.6 l) steel bowl and 3 types of mixers, and I'm already planning to buy loads of accessories once my bank account has recovered. I used it to make brownies for last weekend's family day, and all agreed that they were very tasty brownies indeed.
So apart from the storage issue, I am very happy that my KitchenAid dream finally came true. Now we'll just have to buy another kitchen to fit it in.
Anyway, now that it's October, and autumn is about to start and my birthday is creeping up (which is less and less of a good thing as years go by) I am hoping there will be more time to actually write stuff here. Because it's not that stuff hasn't been happening. A lot of stuff has been happening, it just that I was simply experiencing the stuff, and not able to write about it. And I will now stop using the word 'stuff'.
One of the things that happened which I can write about because I can be relatively brief is that I bought a KitchenAid. An Artisan KitchenAid, to be exact, in a deep red colour. And if you don't know what a KitchenAid is, go look up pictures now.
I've been wanting to have a KitchenAid for as long as I knew they existed, but first there was the sharing-a-kitchen-with-loads-of-other-(thieving)-people issue, then there was the no-money problem, and then there was the our-kitchen-is-smaller-than-most-people's-walk-in-closet thing. The last hasn't technically been resolved, but when brand-new KitchenAids were being sold for 2/3rds of the normal price, I couldn't resist. So I bought one (with some mental support from my boyfriend) and then waited patiently for 3 weeks for it to arrive.
But oh, how pretty it is! How shiny and strong and robust. Also, how heavy (due to the smallness of the kitchen, I have to move the thing in place whenever I want to use it, and KitchenAids clearly don't expect to be put away in dusty cupboards). But it works like a charm. It came with a big (4.6 l) steel bowl and 3 types of mixers, and I'm already planning to buy loads of accessories once my bank account has recovered. I used it to make brownies for last weekend's family day, and all agreed that they were very tasty brownies indeed.
So apart from the storage issue, I am very happy that my KitchenAid dream finally came true. Now we'll just have to buy another kitchen to fit it in.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)