Gypsy Rover came over the hill...

Life is currently this crazy mix of deep thoughts and day to day living. Deep thoughts are what happen when you have all this time to listen to podcasts or read news articles but your husband works 10+ hours a day and your friends are in awkward time zones and your neighbours don’t speak English and your daily companions are two preschoolers and a cat.

Day to day living is what happens when you’ve been stationary long enough to feel the occasional, blissful twinge of boredom and the beautiful sameness of slipping into a routine. When we first moved here the routine kept changing because Shanghai is always changing. Now, however, we are familiar enough with our neighbourhood and the city that we can actually make plans.

Long, long ago when David and I first started dating we used to talk about The Future. He warned me back then that he wasn’t one for the white picket fence, but was more attracted to a gypsy rover sort of life. I felt the pieces of my future shifting a bit. What did I really want?

I grew up in a small town on Vancouver Island. The goal for most of my set was to Leave Town. Town only has a one-screen movie theatre. Shopping options were limited and cultural options felt limited, and then chance of one staying in town and marrying up seemed limited, and mostly, I think, so many of us need to use those late teenage years to spread our wings. My first year away from home was a time of great imagination & dreaming, which first allowed me to explore the ideas of how my future could look.

So, back to 2004 and the white picket fence. At this point in time we were both working in somewhat similar roles, namely at thrift stores. David’s was a non-profit and mine was a for-profit but there is a sort of thrift-store vibe among the young retail associates in Victoria. Many of us were modern hippies, or I guess better characterized as your general West Coast early millenials, living in cheap apartments and being sort of Bohemian and just having a good time the way one can with few bills, a decent amount of pocket money, and a city to explore. Dave and I used to take day trips, on foot, to the surrounding Gulf Islands and talk about the day we would backpack, or drive, around Canada, working here and there and seeing the country etc.

Grad School spurred us on the adventure but then as we got deeper into it and discovered that David had some sought after talent things had to shift yet again. It’s not every day that one gets a chance to move to England. And here we are in our early-to-mid-thirties and we’re doing the scholarly Bohemian gypsy rover thing, which is slightly more upscale than our original dreams, and involves hauling around a lot more books, but still involves rundown abodes and a strange mishmash of household possessions. A lot of our friends have this sort of settled adult style, whether they’re renting or owning, and I’m still thinking about whether or not I even want to bother buying curtains because will we bother packing them on our next international move.

After living this way for so long it’s hard to imagine living any other way. To be in the same place for more than three or four years? Shocking! The kids even take it as a matter of course that there will be a “next apartment” or a new country to explore. We had that brief, not brief enough, spell in Burnaby which was a really good view into what being settled with few choices would be like. Apparently I don’t mind big cities if they’re new but stick me in Toronto or Greater Vancouver and the misery just pours in. Living in a tiny apartment because the rents are too high is very different to living in a tiny apartment because you’re living abroad and you’d rather save on the rent to go and travel. I’m not saying that I never want to settle down but when we do, IF we do, I’m hoping that it will be on more comfortable terms.

(I say more comfortable terms but these are the material things I'm enjoying in our new place)

Seinfeld Finale Night

As I know I’ve mentioned ten million times before, and will keep on mentioning until it is no longer reality, we move a lot. It could be pretty easy to give in to the stress and frustration of that, but we prefer to take it as an adventure. This requires a fair bit of effort, but what’s the point of living if you’re not living, you know?

Anyway, one of our secrets to happiness is to always look for a way to include fun adventures in our life. Having to move to yet another new city? Time to buy a guidebook and set out exploring (that’s my way), or just go for a long afternoon wander (that’s David’s way). Spending too much time working on separate projects? Share some articles or books with each other and then have a coffee date to discuss them. Forced to spend months apart? Share dinner dates over Skype. These are all things we’ve done in the past and they help. A lot.

David requested that I blog about one thing we did recently. We’re short on funds and can’t easily get a babysitter, so our lives revolve around reinventing the night-in. In the midst of Thesis Madness, David suggested that we watch Seinfeld from start to finish, all nine seasons. He purposefully never watched the finale when it aired years ago, because he wanted to save it as a treat for one vague future day. So I upped the suggestion by saying we make an actual Seinfeld Finale party night, since we weren’t together for the finale when it aired.

We both love pizza so the obvious solution was to have a pizza party. We spent a few weeks (ok, months), discussing topping options. This is the poor-man’s foodie art form, along with the burger, right?

We eventually settled on Spanish and seafood inspired pizzas. I made the sauce from scratch, because we wanted something that packed a spicy punch. Then it was time to load ‘em up. Our Spanish one sported chorizo, black olives, peppers, tomatoes, goat cheese, red onions & ‘mild’ cheese (similar to North American cheapo mozza). The seafood one had mussels, shrimp, spinach, mushrooms (on my half), mozza (the good kind), and more of the cheapo cheese. Verdict: delicious. Washed ‘em down with a bottle of red wine.

Homemade spicy sauce!

David used his mad chopping skillz

awkward selfie of the cooks (Walter was a taste-sampler)

Oven-ready, aside from the final dose of cheese

Seafood Pizza

Spanish Pizza

 It’s the little things like this that keep our sanity.

2013 in 13

After finally catching up I am, once again, woefully behind on blogging. I still need to post about Hallowe’en, and Christmas, and all that other stuff. But the kids are being normal kids, instead of those ones that baby experts seem to base their books off of (dolls, maybe?), so sleep is short around here and time is shorter and and and...

And and and, it makes sense to cover off 2013 in a picture post! Because I can look for pictures with one hand while feeding Emily with the other. So here we go, and if you like the idea you should join the link up.

2013 in 13 Pictures

I love this picture, mostly because it makes my mum look like a hobbit. Also because the back story is literally a back story – she was having all sorts of weird pains with her back and neck and could barely move, but it didn’t stop her from trying to finish the kitchen renovations. Anyway, that’s not why I picked this. I picked it because the hominess of it sums up all the wonderfulness that is just being at home with a loving family. Even if the circumstances that brought me home weren’t ideal, it was wonderful being able to spend so much time with my family:

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This picture has been affectionately titled “Walter Needs a Visa”. The expression on his face pretty much sums up how I felt for most of last winter when I let myself dwell too much on the uncertainty facing our family. This is Walter’s visa picture, so it was taken when I at least knew where I was going, and that I had a job to go back to, and that we wouldn’t have to be away from David any longer. I knew the upcoming months would be difficult, but at least we’d be together:

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This is Easter, 2013. Walter & I were both horrendously sick with the ‘flu and couldn’t make it to the Easter Vigil, which broke my heart. We were also still in transition, not yet settled, and everything still seemed dark and dreary. So I sang. I sang the Exultet to Walter, to welcome in Easter Morning, and as I sang the dark cloud lifted and broke and I felt as if there was hope again. And miraculously enough, that was the day our flu cleared up:

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We moved to Ely, thus fulfilling my dream of living out in the English countryside. It’s been marvelous:

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David & Walter at the Eel Festival. Why? Because it was one of the first outings we had once we got settled in. But more than that, because it’s my little boy back with his daddy, having the time of his life. Two months apart was way too long:

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A bump! And at this point in time I was still hopeful that I would give birth “on time”. And I finally was looking pregnant. And the ultrasounds were looking good and the pregnancy was on track and it seemed that despite some worrying in the first trimester, Secunda was here to stay:

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Ely Folk Festival, which kicked off the start of my maternity leave. This family loves folk music. Being able to take Walter to his first festival and experience it with him was amazing. It was one of the highlights of the year, especially because it was so nice to just be doing fun things as a family again:

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Emily, less than two hours after birth. So thankful I had to be induced, because it kick started natural labour while I was at the hospital and I went from 4cm to Baby in about three hours, which would’ve been a nightmare if we’d been driving from Ely. And it was so nice to experience a normal birth and to have that special time where the three of us could get to know each other:

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My mum came to visit, for a month, and although most of that month was a blur of me being super exhausted and grouchy and way too pregnant, it was still lovely. She got to spend so much time with Walter and that is really special, especially since she was the first person he saw when he crashed into the world the previous August:

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Aside from Emily’s birth, this would have to be the highlight of the year – David completed & submitted his dissertation on time, and passed his viva, and very very soon I'll be able to sign myself "Dr & Mrs". I still cry when I think about the day we went, as a family, to submit his dissertation. To take all the blood, sweat, & tears, particularly of the last two years, and see that the sacrifices really did accomplish something... words fail:

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I got my nose pierced, after wanting one since I was a teenager. And I finally feel as if I look like myself and as if one more key to understanding my personality is visible:
 

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I turned thirty!

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Being able to celebrate Christmas in England with my England Babies. It was special to have our own Christmas this year, to introduce them to our little traditions, and to enjoy watching them experience the holiday:

2013 was a hard year. But it wasn’t as hard as 2012 and it at least brought us forward instead of keeping us in a horrible limbo. I don’t know what to expect from 2014. I’m nervous about this next stage of life, with everything so uncertain and unsettled, so I am trying to take it one day at a time. But I think we're going to be ok.

a pass

David & I met ten years ago in a Latin class at the University of Victoria. Back in the day we sketched vague pipe dreams about driving around Canada in a converted van or bus, picking up work as we needed it and living the simple life, just enjoying experiences and travel and not having to settle down. Then, towards the end of our degrees, professors started encouraging us to apply to graduate schools. This started us on a path that led first to the University of Alberta, then the University of Toronto, and finally to the University of Cambridge. We’ve been walking the Grad School Road together since 2006.

Surrounded by his sea of books in Edmonton

It has not been easy. People who think that the academic path is some sort of charmed life, protected from harsh reality, know nothing. There have been times when we haven’t had more than $20 between us, or times when we’ve wondered if it would’ve just made more sense to stay home and get steady jobs and settle down. A PhD dictates your whole life. It’s a long time commitment, and we lucked out because at Cambridge it’s the same length as a Canadian undergraduate degree (4-ish years), whereas back home it would’ve meant 5 or 6 years. Every decision has to be weighed in the balance of the dissertation submission deadline. The back of your mind always knows that the clock is ticking. It intrudes on vacations, on weekends, even on evenings. It affects the whole family, not just the person undertaking the actual degree, and we have all had our roles to play & our sacrifices to make.

Quite the Gentleman Scholar in Toronto

But, inch by inch, we’ve journeyed towards the light at the end of the tunnel. And one day, not too long ago, I mentioned that Thesis Madness was over. The dissertation was submitted. Of course that wasn’t the end of the story – submission meant that it was completed on time. The next step was the defense, or in Cambridge terms, the viva voce.

Wearing Cambridge robes & enjoying a glass of whiskey in the Clare MCR

On November 5th the kids & I killed several hours in a chill & damp Cambridge, while David went and defended the past few years’ work. I admit I was a rather distracted mommy that day, my eye constantly on the clock, my ears straining to hear my phone ring. It’s one of those situations where you have absolute faith in someone’s ability but still worry that things could go wrong. And then, thanks be to God, when the phone finally does ring you get the best news of all – a pass.

Thesis Submission!

 When we met in 2003 I never would have thought that I’d be married to a Cambridge doctor. And if you’d told me that we’d spend the evening of November 5th, 2013, taking our two children into a fenland park to set off firecrackers, and then coming home to drink two celebratory bottles of cava, I probably would’ve laughed. But we did it. We did it, because David did it. Because my wonderful genius of a husband passed his viva and has been recommended for a doctorate degree from the University of Cambridge.


Do you even need to guess how proud I am of him?

7 Quick Takes - Vol. 15

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Another week, another late QT post. But good excuses abound yet again! First off, David has submitted his thesis. Small looking words, and unless you’re a grad student or married to one you might not fully comprehend how this is pretty much the biggest thing in our lives right now. The Thesis, which has been the main focus of our family for the past four years, which has guided most major decisions and interfered with so much, is SUBMITTED. I can breathe again.

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As if that wasn’t reason enough to celebrate, I also happened to turn thirty this week. My birthday, in which I was delightfully spoiled by husband and kids, deserves its own post, but as part of my own little celebration to mark the end of my twenties I went for some aesthetical changes, namely a shorter haircut (not a big deal, do it all the time) and a nose ring (which is currently a stud, since they can’t pierce it with the ring):

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Walter also happened to turn fourteen months old this week. David refuses to admit that our baby is turning into a toddler, but I see more and more evidence of his new developmental stage every week. Fourteen months seems to have been a big turning point. He is showing a lot more awareness of things (if I put his shoes & socks on, he runs and grabs his coat without being asked) and I think he is understanding our instructions a little better. I am so impressed with how much behavior he learns just from copying us – yesterday he got to a crying Emily before either of her parents did, and I found him crouched down beside her, patting her on the back.

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Emily’s had a fuss-week, where she follows a pattern of sleep-cry-eat-cry-sleep. It seems to be digestive troubles, as in the evenings she has been releasing the days build up in a variety of forms. That said, she is almost on a night-time sleep & eat schedule that I can cope with (last feed at 10/10:30pm, and then sleeping in her own bed until 6/7am. She is almost at an age where I can start to introduce some sort of sleep consistency, at least with night, and then hopefully we can start introducing an earlier bed time.

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I thought I’d start linking up with Menu Plan Monday, since I plan my menus two weeks in advance yesterday (helps so much with grocery shopping). Tara, at Mitchell to Morgan (otherwise known as my illustrious and super awesome cousin), has started giving her take on the previous week’s menu when she joins the link up, and I think that’s a pretty great idea because I always love knowing how recipes turn out and every once in a while I feel a need to get some new ideas.

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Speaking of recipes, this week for one of our quick suppers I made my new favourite – Leftover S&S Pork Stirfry. It’s one of the things I make when I have leftover roast pork and I love it. It’s super easy and uses up whatever odds & ends I have in the fridge. Basically, you start browning a sliced onion, I favour red ones, in some oil (in a ‘seasoned’ ie needs a scrub) in a pan. While those cook, chop up some vegetable odds & ends, anything you have hanging out in the fridge that is good in Chinese food (for us this is usually carrots & perhaps some bell peppers) and toss them in with the onions. We like things spicy so I always cut in one or two hot chillies. Give everything a stir and then start slicing up what remains of your Sunday pork roast. Toss the pork into the pan and stir everything yet again. Then grab a jar of sweet & sour sauce and pour it over top. Stir the sauce through and turn the heat down. Make some rice and keep a lazy eye on the s&s mixture – by the time the rice is done it should be a sticky, carmelized mess. Use a little water to rinse out the dregs of the sauce jar into the pan if you need to make more of a sauce. Then, crank the heat up, make a well in the middle of the s&s mess, and pour in a couple lightly beaten eggs. Scramble fry the eggs into the meat mixture, dump everything on top of the rice, and you should be left with a delicious, comforting, filling, spicy mess. It’s a big hit at our house – even Walter gobbles it down, hot peppers and all.

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I’m embroidering again and I have a project that is almost finished, so watch this space... babies don’t leave much time, but sometimes they leave just enough.

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

7 Quick Takes - THESIS MADNESS - Vol. 14

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So on Saturday past, with David in the midst of Thesis Madness, the kiddies and I took the train up to Peterborough to see our friend Pippa who was on her way south from Aberdeen. She always makes a point of detouring out our way if she can, and the Peterborough train station happened to be a stop on her journey this time. We had a lovely visit and the timing was perfect, because I’d been thinking a lot of our journey up to Aberdeen at this time last year:

somewhere in Scotland -- Walter's first train journey

my seasoned traveler

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Life here mostly consists of Thesis Madness. Every day is full of highs, lows, and lots of stress. So, pray for us.

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I ordered some clothes for the kids last week and was all set to write about how much I love online shopping. But that was a week ago, and it wasn’t until 3am last night that I got the “your order has shipped” email. Not cool, Vertbaudet, not cool. I like their clothing but definitely not their “order to shipping” speed – the same thing happened in July when my brother ordered something from them for Walter’s birthday. So I guess I could revise this to “I love online shopping when it’s Amazon or some place similar that actually manage to ship the order a day or two after I place it”, but that seems a bit wordy.

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Did I mention Thesis Madness? Oh yeah? PRAY FOR US.

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Walter is definitely entering toddler-hood, which means really adorable and more grownup behavior interspersed with tantrums. So far we’ve avoided the full on classic tantrum, but I get my fair share of loud scream-crying & growling, with the occasional foot stomp, on a daily basis. Aside from the deafening noise, my biggest problem with them is that I cannot keep a straight face and it is so hard to keep from dissolving into laughter. We’ve been sending him for quiet time in his crib when he can’t control his temper, and that’s been working, but man that kid can scream.

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Between my introvert personality & years of torment at the hands of elementary & junior high school children, I tend to second guess whether or not people like me. Generally I err on the side of caution, and assume that they don’t, so then I get a pleasant surprise when they do (logic!). Thus imagine my delight when our local parish priest recognised me when I was walking with the kids today. Recognised, said hi, and made small talk! We’ve only been going to Mass there for five months and we’re not involved in anything so it was a great boost to my day. We haven’t frightened off our priest!

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You know, just in case I haven’t made it clear – Thesis Madness. Pray for Us. Please.

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!