A teensy little monday post because I got no sleep

Happy Monday! Here is a puppy for your effort

.  

4 more weeks to Paris! I keep wearing my country Road jumper (shocker, its cold in Durban) with French words on it to remind myself of this glorious fact. The days are moving speedily along; I finished Lolita and have given myself over to Charles Dickens 'The Haunted House' which I find way too creepy to read in bed at night time (even with Graham next to me- although for the past few days due to his sickness it's felt more like i've been sleeping next to a railway station. One that I have to wake up every hour and ask to roll over so that I can get some sleep... so if you see me and wonder why my face is like it is the best thing would probably be not to tell me that I look tired). 

I'm daydreaming of pasta.

Lolita and musings

After the shortest long weekend ever I'm back in the same place as I was last week when I told you I had resolved to get my reading butt into gear and I am happy to report that I have! I'm on my way to finishing Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita which has been an incredibly challenging read. Not because of how he writes, I love his whimsical sarcastic way of writing, but because of the subject matter. The narrator often begs the reader to try and understand the things he's writing from his point of view or at least to be sympathetic to his unhealthy obsession with little girls ("nymphets") and Lolita in particular. I do think I'm more sympathetic than Graham has been (who tells me the narrator should be locked up in an asylum for perverts) but it's still been difficult understand or to get on board with Humbert's (that is, the narrators) illicit actions regarding his "step-daughter."

   

Aside from reading we had a friend come and stay over at our place this past weekend. We only have one bed so we had to buy a blow-up mattress and slept on it on our lounge floor which was like a mini camping trip (a camping trip where graham would slam/roll his body into the tv cabinet every 2 hours or so throughout the night). We spent saturday lounging around, getting tea, going back to bed, having hour-long heated debates in bed while the sunlight streamed in through the curtains- the perfect way to spend a day in my opinion. We decided to take a chance on having lunch at a mexican place well known for their food poisoning and we came out alive with full tummies (the food was surprisingly good!).

   

[Only 6 more weeks to Paris and Amsterdam. One of my lovely friends is in Paris at the moment and all her pictures and tweets are causing the anticipation of traveling to be SO much more than is rationally acceptable. Grahams mom bought me a beautiful brown leather passport cover to take with- 6 weeks seems like a century away!]

 

For the past few days (and days to come) I've been cooking my little heart out-obviously not to the level that it's done on master chef but still- I made my (when I say my I mean Jamie Olivers) amazing chorizo pasta on saturday night which has become to go-to dish for when we want something yummy and spicy that requires very little effort. I baked for women's day on Thursday (regular vanilla biscuits with royal icing but for some reason they turn out to be flipping fantastic) and I shall put the recipe on the blog soon. Last night I made spicy fish stew which may replace the chorizo pasta as the easiest tastiest dish I know. And tonight it's roast chicken and oven veggies- so chilled. I must admit that I'm pretty impressed with myself, a year ago I could make toasted sandwiches but now I think nothing of making roast chicken. Its pretty awesome what you can teach yourself to do when you have to. When you have a starving husband at home who looks at you with puppy eyes when he asks what dinner is. 

 

I know you're dying to read a bit of Lolita now to see what dodgy things the characters get up to so i'll save you the trouble of hunting the book down; 

[this quote is taken from the time that the narrator first sees Lolita] 

"It was the same child-the same frail, honey-hued shoulders, the same silky supple bare back, the same chestnut head of hair. A polka-dotted black kerchief tied around her chest hid from my a gaping eyes, but not from the gaze of my young memory, the juvenile breasts I had fondled one immortal day. And, as if I were the fairytale nurse of some little princess...I recognized the tiny dark-brown mole on her side. With awe and delight... I saw again her lovely in-drawn abdomen where my southbound mouth had briefly paused; those puerile hips on which I had kissed the crenulated imprint left by the band of her shorts- that last mad day behind the "Roches and Roses." The twenty-five years I had lived since then, tapered to a palpitating point, and vanished."

An english major who doesn't read

I have never been incredibly good at anything. Only recently have I developed some skill in baking, I'm able to draw fairly well if I put my mind to it (I have an amazing memory- you can ask Graham to verify this) and I sing pretty well, or so i've been told, but i'm not REALLY good at any of these things on this very short list. I have only ever been really good at reading books. (Embarrassing though it may be) I'm proud to say that the awards I got in school were for reading. I was on every book general knowledge team there was throughout school. Reading was what I looked forward to every break time and at the end of every school day. sheesh I was the girl who had read her matric set-work in the first year of high school and when she felt like she needed some challenging reading decided to spend some quality time with Chaucer. I was the girl who other girls didn't understand- because who reads anything other than magazines- and the girl that intimidated the boys by being as knowledgeable about Sci-Fi and fantasy worlds as they were. I was the girl who preferred books to people because books were safe and you could always rely on them to take you into another world.

   

With my obvious love, no, passion, desire, hunger for books the day that I discovered that I could get a degree in reading (by becoming an English major) was a very exciting day. And now here I am, living the dream only now I don't read. 

Looking back trying to figure out what happened I instinctively blame my studies. In the past 4 years I already have to do so much reading for university that any reading outside of my degree is limited to magazines (what up high school girls). But if I'm honest the reason I read less now is because I'm lazy. I would way prefer to spend an afternoon on our couch watching The Style Network or E! or anything really trashy and exciting than doing something as strenuous as reading Charles Dickens (something my teenage self would have laughed at). 

Enter my very patient and long-suffering husband, the reading champion, the man who has read 30 books this year so far. For almost 3 years he has gently nudged me to read, clearing my dish-washing schedule, making a set reading time for both of us, giving me books he thinks i'll enjoy, encouraging me to "talk literature" with him. But I've been more set in my television watching ways than either of us anticipated.

   

But then something happened. This week I read this post: http://sixtywinters.wordpress.com/2013/07/29/things-i-lovewantneed-right-now/ and was inspired. Not even the whole post, just the first part. To see how many books someone can read when they make time for it because they love it made me want to immediately change my tv slob ways.

 

Today I begin a new book. And I'm excited about it, I haven't had a new book in a month and a half. Hopefully this re-kindled passion will set me on the road to becoming an english major that my child and teenage self would have been proud of.

Winter mornings in the Cape

Why hello there. It's been a while, (gets completely sidetracked by Facebook) since I last wrote I've had days of studying, early morning exams, a slight jamie olive addiction, become a star trek fan, minor breakdowns fixed by hot-chocolate with mini marshmallows, relief, a second kitchen tea, mornings of tv watching, re-discovering my books, 6 hours of baking, an aversion to chocolate (due to baking), winter sales, disappointments, goodbyes, hellos, cold cape weather and peppermint tea.

I love cold winters, going to sleep with the rain beating down on the roof, snuggled under layers of blankets. Which is pretty fortunate seeing as I'm in Cape Town for 2 weeks. 

Also helpful is bringing with a pile of books that I've been meaning to read forever. I just finished C.S Lewis's 'That Hideous Strength' which was by far my favorite of the three books in his trilogy. I think his use of Arthurian legend is really what got me hooked, and Merlin -oh it was so exciting. After that I read another C.S Lewis, his re-telling of the greek myth of Cupid and Psyche, 'Till we have Faces' and because I absolutely love greek myths I was always going to love the book. It speaks such truth about human nature and love- it's terrifyingly accurate in fact- and it made me want to read more on the greek legends (a good thing as i'm majoring in classics). It seemed to have the same affect of Graham because he is now hooked on a novel re-telling the Trojan war. Today I started an autobiography of F.Scott Fitzgerald which is slightly shocking, usually I detest biographies and auto-biographies but I do love me some Fitzgerald. And in amongst this I'm trying desperately to finish a book by D.A Carson that iv'e been sitting on for a few weeks now- so much reading and so much time to do it in makes Lynsay a happy lady.

   

I'm just trying to give my brain a rest after my exams (which went mostly very well thanks for asking) and I only had one incredibly disappointing mark, English. It's pretty disheartening when the subject I'm majoring in, the subject that is the whole reason why I'm even doing another degree turns out to be the subject I suck at the most. Perhaps I'm being too critical of my natural abilities. Everyone I've spoken to (or rather whined about this to) has been encouraging, told me that I needed time to adjust (apparently not applicable for the other subjects though) that english is just a generally hard subject to conquer, that it will be better next semester. I hope so otherwise goodness knows what kind of depressing its-the-end-of-my-life posts ill put on here (you should be rooting for me if only not to have to read those types of blog posts).

   

I have however been excelling in some other areas of life - the incredibly tiny culinary area of my life. My parents gave my Jamie Oliver's 15 minute meals cookbook and I have triumphantly been able to make two of those meals in under an hour. They were also really tasty. But the climax of my cooking career (so far) came last week when I baked 120 triple chocolate biscuits for a Church function- by the end of my 6 hour baking stint I never wanted to see chocolate again ever- and after they had been served I had a fair amount of people coming up and congratulating me (maybe I forced a few people into giving me their good opinion) on my baking. Even the caterer told graham that the biscuits were excellent. Some little old grannies said they would support me if I opened a bakery. I didn't have the heart to tell anyone that it's actually the recipe that makes the biscuits- anyone can bake (although apparently no one thought I could bake before this cookie incident).

 

I'm off to enjoy some bracing Cape Winter sunshine, some reading time and a delicious sandwich from Knead. Love always x

apple pie

It's alright, you don't need to die of shock. I've just been away for a while. but im back [and when i say away i mean distracted by life] Happy Easter* today was the most perfect Easter day. It was overcast and rainy- which meant that after church and after our sundayroast we really had no excuse not to crawl back into our beds and hide there for the remainder of the day with our books and abundance of chocolate eggs.
[its autumn good and proper, this means that the baking starts tomorrow]

we have been re-united with our winter closets. although this has brought with it the re-uniting of us and cold dark mornings-when its painful to get out of bed and wait in the icy-darkness for the shower to warm up. meh.

"There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been" -Percy Bysshe Shelley
This past week G and i went to two of the most amazing food-eating places i have ever been to. On tuesday night we went to The Bombay Bicycle Club and really the atmosphere [in the small, dimly lit, smoke and incense filled room] far surpassed the food &the food was amazing. Then lastnight we went to Royale, which he had been threatening to take me to for a long time, and the food [really the burgers] were more lovely than i could have imagined. [so it is food that has been largely occupying my time] cold weather is comfort food time -'smores for the win- and Easter is the beginning of the 'get fat for winter' stage. [but. lets be honest. its like this for me the whole year 'round]
i promise to be a better blogger* you're champions for hanging in there.
x

kiss with a fist

[writes this while sitting up in bed drinking tea]

one of the good things about being sick is suddenly having all this extra time added to your life. today i am abusing this gift by, not wallowing in self pity, but working. [lets get real, who works when they're sick?]mom is out to conversational french lessons and this feeling of being alone in the house makes me want to do something reckless. like eat all the nutella. or dance around in my underwear.
happy cupcake monday for yesterday.

[more tea is needed] imcraving- hello pandas, rasberries, sleep, more florence&the machine, anything with mint in it, a bath in lavender bubbles, sunshine, seeing you.

[how great is this picture?]

"It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life." -P.D. James

they were the kind of girls who put too many marshmallows in their hotchocolate

goodevening children. Today bleh. what can I say about today? well it was made up of too little sleep because of my greek exam [which i failed anyway]

spending hours on tumblr afterwards to try and recover from my exam

[wishes]

and a happy cupcake monday

I am now going to spend the rest of my evening stalking e-online and drinking milo* a good way to spend a monday night

the november swing

[hello november]
where on earth has this year gone? all i have are memories, memories of pizza at the beach and wind and freezing lecture rooms and nervousness and studying and brown boxes and new places. which I guess are good memories to have.
in other news,i am sick. i hate being sick. I have to drink corenza c all the time whichwas probably used as a torture method 100 years ago. However lying in bed today gave me a chance to finish 'a room of one's own' which is such an amazing book.
[could i have 'marshmallow tuesday'? or should i leave that for someone else to do? at any rate. tonight is the perfect night for hotchocolate with marshmallows]

"Now my belief is that this poet who never wrote a word and was buried at the cross-roads still lives. She lives in you and in me,and in many other women who are not here tonight, for they are washing up the dishes and putting the children to bed. But she lives, for great poets do not die; they are continuing presences; they need only the opportunity to walk among us in the flesh." - A room of one's own

yay its almost wednesday. night children x

afternoon tea

Under certain circumstances there are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea. There are circumstances in which, whether you partake of the tea or not--some people of course never do,--the situation is in itself delightful. Those that I have in mind in beginning to unfold this simple history offered an admirable setting to an innocent pastime. The implements of the little feast had been disposed upon the lawn of an old English country-house, in what I should call the perfect middle of a splendid summer afternoon. Part of the afternoon had waned, but much of it was left, and what was left was of the finest and rarest quality. Real dusk would not arrive for many hours; but the flood of summer light had begun to ebb, the air had grown mellow, the shadows were long upon the smooth, dense turf.
today I started reading Henry James's the portrait of a lady and I am inlove with it already. It is the perfect weather for reading.

and to P, you are awesome

I am so sorry I didnt say happy birthday to you so here it is.
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to P* Happeeeeeeeeeee Birthday to youuuuuu

I wish you lots of

have a smashing tuesday all

a happy saturday morning

dear blog: sorry for the neglect these past few days, ive been too busy doing nothing. Today feels beautiful justlike this quote.

"A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining,

the breeze is blowing,

the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken." -James Dent

This summer I would like to read Gerald Durrells books, because ithink he is amazing and I havent read them in forever. Bleh. now to gym.
peace out

ilovesaturdays

Ilove bacon and flapjacks on saturday mornings. This morning has been especially good* I bought 2 new books at the secondhand bookshop near my house and I am now SO ready to spend the afternoon reading. [the books are, The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy and The Queens foold by Phillipa Gregory]

"If the witch understood the true meaning of sacrifice, she might have interpreted the Deep Magic differently, for when a willing victim who has committed no treachery, dies in a traitor’s stead, the stone table will crack and even death itself will turn backwards." - Aslan (The Lion, the witch and the wardrobe)

dear blog, im sorry i havent written

its been like this for 3 days now* im not complaining though :)

oh yes please:

those who think that sunshine is pure
happiness, have never danced in the rain*
night all
x

keep calm and put the kettle on

yet another english day*
we woke up to rain and crazy wind so i had a chance to wear a coat :) i cant wait for winter

p.s happy birthday tom*

milo :)

dear peter:

... everytime i watch this i think of you :)

*in other news: milo is super awesome HOWEVER it is not as good as tea. how cute is this picture?

and...
im re-reading under the greenwood tree by mr hardy*
"soon appeared glimmering indications of the few cottages forming the small hamlet of Upper Mellstock for which they were bound, whilst the faint sound of church bells ringing a christmas peal could be heard floating over upon the breeze from the direction of Longpuddle and Weatherbury parishes on the other side of the hills."
how beautiful was that? goodness
and... i had an awesome night taking my parents down in 30 seconds... and ilove nicolapicola :)
night x

the end, or the beginning

It rained today! which could mark the beginning of a very promising winter/autumn :)
this winter i will imagine that i look like this in my coat and gloves (when nothing could be further from the truth)

... and ill make this

and ill wish that my world looked like this*

and ill try find this (in my dreams*)

and ill eat this :) i am so ready to eat this*

... and ill do this, all the time

and ill wear these*

*the end of winter dream*
Dear nici:

:) ek is lief vir jou
x