Things that have made me happy this week:

* Conspiring with my old dad over chili con carne * Blue sparkly wellies that I saw only 10 minutes ago * ‘I miss you and your ridiculous hair’ * Metaphorical Tuna and Abstract Sturgeon * Dainty Ballerina’s Gunpowder Plot entry in Fragments * The fact it’s BONFIRE NIGHT * All the Heinz Bonfire Night – inspired adverts on Absolute Radio this week * The little girl who came in to hug her mum (my favourite barista in Starbucks) and has exactly the same curly red hair * Daily Coffee’s excellent cappuccinos * The Pergamon Museum which has easily the most amazing exhibitions I’ve seen in ages and has made me fall in love with Hellenistic art * The Sansoucci park this time of year * Sign #51 in The Rally to Restore Sanity And/Or Fear (Respect!) * Telling myself this week that I shall not be afraid to be pro-active * Watching The Thing and laughing at 80s fascination with gore * Blackberry Juice, this week’s guest post on The 52 Seductions * The fact I’m going to be back in Bristol in 24 hours and am seeing Alan on Sunday(!!) * Hugh Jackman’s Lipton Iced Tea advert * R.E.D. which had me laughing for over two hours (and stars Helen Mirren. Nuff said) * So You Want To Be A Historian? (American, but made me titter) * My Son Is Gay by Nerdy Apple Bottom & And That’s Ok by Keris Stainton

I’m sure I’ve forgotten to include a few things. But here’s a Youtube snippet of R.E.D. to start your weekend!

Depression makes you blind; so does death. You can’t see for the pitch black. You wouldn’t have seen how you were really going to change the world one day, because you had one of those minds that eventually does. You wouldn’t have seen the person you’d eventually have met, who would have loved you for the rest of your life. You wouldn’t have seen all the places you’d have travelled to, the emotions they would have stirred in you. You didn’t see your friends or your family by your side. You won’t see how many of them will convene together now and celebrate you, and cry together at what a huge, what an unfair loss it’s been.

You’ve been in the dark for a long time. I hope you’ve found light.

My culinary triumph of last week! Thought I’d write it up for general posterity and such.

I used the following (you can use pretty much anything you like in this – it’s a great way to use up your veg. The one I’m doing next has broccoli and carrot in it, ooooooh):

• two large chicken breasts (skinless/boneless), cut into small chunks
• half a chorizo sausage, sliced and cubed
• two deli tub-fuls of prawns
• two 400g cans of chopped tomatoes
• 3 medium sized garlic cloves
• one red pepper and one green, sliced
• a large red onion, finely chopped
• a large handful of sugarsnap peas
• a mugful of frozen garden peas
• a pint of chicken stock (or bouillon)
• seasoning
• a spice the Germans call ‘Haanchen-Salz’ which is basically a cajun spice
• a pinch of chili (I used dried flakes, but you can use powder, or fresh chili peppers, and add as much as you prefer)
• olive oil
• a decent mugful of wild rice

First, I heated oil in a large frying pan and browned the chorizo, then removed it. The chicken went in next with some more oil until cooked through; then I removed that and put it with the chorizo.

I added a little bit more oil, then browned the onions, and put the chicken and chorizo back in the pan. Tossed these about for a few minutes, then tipped in the garlic, peppers, sugarsnaps and peas, and also added the prawns.

I fried all this together for a few minutes, until the veg began to brown a little, adding oil as I went if it looked a little parched. Then I poured the (uncooked!) rice in with it, stirred it about to make sure it got a good coating of oil from the pan, then added the chopped tomatoes. I prepared the stock whilst everything was frying so it is nicely hot, then add that in a little gradually to make sure the rice was all submerged, but also that I wasn’t slopping it all over the side (it’s something I’d do). At this point I added my spices – I generally went by taste and smell on this, but was fairly generous with the Haanchen-Salz. I seasoned it, then basically left it to boil.

Give it a while to boil and reduce down – it will, and makes the sauce really rich and nommable. Stir every so often, to make sure the rice is still all in the liquid. The shambalaya is basically ready when the rice is cooked and the whole mixture is less soup-y and more stew-y.

I served it all up in bowls (for some reason eating from bowls makes food even better) with a bottle of fruity wine (white or rose is always a good bet!) Yummy!

This would look so much better if it sandwiched another post or two, but this week has been full of lumps n’ bumps and I’ve not written anything (not even in the journal, shockhorror).. but anyway, here’s my list of things that have made me happy this week:

* Adventures with my cameraphone in Deutsche Historiches Museum and caricature-spotting (I’ve included some of the photos, including a Prussian edict forbidding servant girls to wear silk skirts and a funny little porcelain called Discord In Marriage) * lunch in Spree Cafe opposite Museum Island (they do fantastic pumpkin soup and give you chocolate mini-muffins with their coffee!) * a teeny tiny little lady in her hot pink chequered dress holding her hand out to her daddy and eskimo-kissing with him in Starbucks * emails from DasV that make me smile like a crazy person and laugh so much I almost spit squash across my bed * Altmann Cafe in Wittenberg and their autumnal decor * Long MSN chats with my dearest Alan and sending him presents from Play.com * General Wittenberg times (it really is quite lovely – post to come) * the TINIEST dog I’ve ever seen playing with his owner and pouncing at gravel, followed by the FLUFFIEST sleeping under his owner’s chair in a cafe called La Dolce Vita * old women hanging out of their windows watching the world go by * communal land outside Potsdam where everyone is planting next year’s veg * ‘pick-your-own’ apple orchards with apple trees as far as the eye can see * realising I make damn good chicken jambalaya and stir fry * pan-fried aubergine * autumn sunshine bouncing off pastel buildings * gearing up for a Renaissance music festival tonight (excitement! First time I’ve said I’ll go to one and actually got round to booking tickets) *

Hope you’ve enjoyed my mad little collection this week! To finish off I’ve left you with some jolly wartime songs* that DasV sent me on Tuesday – enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vshSr6LSEIo&feature=fvst

*Disclaimer: may induce urge to march or go manufacturing munitions. I deny all responsibility!

Have a great weekend all! x

From Vintage Printables.

Gratitude lists are quite the thing nowadays! And really fun to read – every week I catch Gala Darling’s Things I Love Thursday and there’s always something there to make me smile or that generally just give me a little thrill. Personally I think they’re a great idea, taking stock for a bit and thinking really hard about what made you happy or floated your boat that week – and I’ve been toying with the idea of my own for a while. So: here it is! The first instalment of the imaginatively-titled Faves For Friday!

* ironing accompanied by wall-to-wall Hugh Grant films * finally tracking down Potsdam’s elusive swimming pool * blue Jil Sander trainers * collecting jars for my desk * Vintage Printable * Trash Russians (think White but with extra espresso goodness, yummy), Cosmos and alcoholified cherries from White Trash * Hot Tongs: A Year Of Vintage Glamour * Venti coffees and zitronekuchen * watching the Bourne Supremacy, Berlin-spotting and getting excited * Shelfari * Four-and-a-bit wonderful days with my other half * the Glamourai’s tutorial on how to tie your own turban * upcoming adventures in the Big Sauerkraut and ventures to the Baltic coast with the parents * the Deutsche Historiches Museum’s new exhibition: Hitler and the German People – the first of it’s kind to be held in a major German museum and (especically against its neighbouring exhibitions) really quite well done. It’s on until February 6 2011, so go see it if you get the chance!

Have a good weekend!

From Harvard University Press Publicity

(First of all I just wanted to point out that I appear to be spending today rocking sloppy bag lady chic. Massive coat, minimal make-up, mis-matching shoes and hat, jeans pulled back out of the laundry basket and a floppy knitted beanie. Nice.)

I’ve been fascinated by the Renaissance humanists for years, though I have yet to study them in more than passing detail. In my mind they epitomised self improvement for the general good. Wikipedia (the mother of all pop-references!) tells me that they aimed to create a wide citizenry that could read rather than be taught the professional jargon and pervading medieval knowledge of scholasticism, and thus speak and write eloquently, therefore contributing to better engagement in civic life and encouraging others to be ‘virtuous and prudent’ The humanist culture spread to the courts of Europe – every prince vied to be a Renaissance Prince, with an entourage of humanist scholars to their name. Intellectual capacity became part of a monarchy’s arsenal as much as martial achievement, ancestry or personal grandeur (though it never quite surpasses it!) – there was frequent comment in Tudor England on mastery of languages, theology, philosophy and in some cases, sciences (Henry VIII held a fascination for astronomy and cartography among other things). This comment was, of course, a kind of obligation, and a necessary feature of a monarch’s magnificence-list.

It existed further down the social strata, too. Historians (the actual reference escapes me, I’ll dig through my notes to find the relevant article) have also observed that early modern nobility began to add literacy to their list of attributes (though not all – to some the practice of study instead of martial training was nothing short of an abominable waste of time). Knowledge and the humanist tradition were part and parcel of self-representation. I believe that is still – if not more so – the case now. The acquisition of knowledge in some form defines who we are – it inspires admiration and fear. Knowledge is power etc. How many times have we been terrified of our Oxbridge-educated, razor-sharp tutors, or watched trembling entrepreneurs singing the praises (a.k.a. licking the arse) of those Lord-Sugar-types who are simply, pragmatically clever and thus managed to build up empires from the back of vans?  Every job demands knowledge and experience of the task at hand. Your personal statement/CV/applications/interviews are tests of how much you ‘know’. How much you are ‘good at.’ We are endlessly in awe of those ‘Renaissance Man’ figures – and deservedly so. My Potsdam next-door-neighbour is a first violinist for a major Berlin orchestra, travels the world and enjoys an active social life, designs and makes her own clothing that she sells in her own gorgeous boutique and maintains her own website, whilst managing to look effortlessly chic and beautiful every day. Closer to home, since the day we met I have been in complete awe of my boyfriend (otherwise known as Das Viktorianer) who, in the midst of his PhD, still remembers almost every fact and piece of history he has ever learned, was the first in his family to go to university, is musically talented, possesses a lightspeed wit, is politically aware, directed an operetta and has an incredible gift for rhetoric. And he achieved it all himself.

I do believe in that humanist trope that learning – the enthusiasm to learn – is hugely beneficial not only to the individual but the greater good of society. I think it is crucial to our happiness and well-being. The mark of a happy and fulfilled life is one occupied with the awareness of everything around them, rather than constant spiralling self obsession. I think it’s a cycle. The more we want to learn, the less time we have to be preoccupied with ourselves, the more of our imagination we use productively, the more we can interact with the world, the more good we can do. And like that rush you get from coming out of the gym (not that I’ve experienced that in a while!!) the addiction to learning and the feeling that produces inspires you to go back and keep on acquiring knowledge.

With this in mind, I’ve been thinking these past few days. I have always thought of myself – and people have seen me – as someone defined by intellect. My dad still tells me I have a ‘photographic memory’. I am told I read copiously and like the wind. I could ‘breeze’ through academia. I am artistically and linguistically creative. Talented, even.

But contrary to everything I’ve just said, I’ve been thinking recently that all that has dwindled, or perhaps not ever been there, simply because it’s only assumption, words. I’m of the mind that I’ve never worked quite hard enough to be what I considered – others considered – myself to be, and I wonder – if I had worked myself harder, memorised everything I’ve learned, read constantly, always practiced and maintained my art, poetry, writing, academic pursuits, if my life might have taken better turns. Sometimes, I think I have been too lazy – the consequence of a fairly easy, sheltered family life – and this has impacted on my present. Being currently unemployed this would be the perfect time to generally better myself, right? Yet I spend most of my time on Facebook or on blogs admiring the achievements of others and wishing I had an ounce of their capacity for living, waking up ridiculously late, mooching around my apartment and suddenly finding that I’ve lost a day. I paint a grim picture, don’t I?

I know that perhaps in my current circumstances I undersell myself a little. Something got me to university and has kept me out of the gutter of general ignorance. But in the humanist spirit of things, I think I can do a lot better.

Tschau

I think part of this autumnal ‘aptness’ comes from the way that Germans seem to really celebrate the coming of this season. As September began to wane I started to notice a very clear shift, not only seasonally/naturally etc. but socially. Now, personally I have always loved autumn more than any other season. For one, my birthday falls within it, and who doesn’t give some bias to that? (Unless you’re of the mind where being a year older is an annual curse). I am not ashamed to admit that I still get excited about Halloween and Bonfire Night. The weather starts to become much more pleasant to me – colder, but in a brisk, refreshing sense, not freezing-my-arse-off cold. Have you also ever noticed that autumn also comes with a smell? Sharp, acrid, perhaps a faint sense of woodsmoke, the kind that slightly burns your nose – every year that I can remember I’ve taken a whiff of the air and known that autumn has come. And with the colder weather comes my favourite attire – CARDIGANS! SCARVES! HATS! BOOTS! The utter, utter joy of layering! Ah… just writing about it makes me start pre-emptively drooling for Accessorize. You know what I’m talking about, I’m not the only one who goes a bit nutty over this. The world dons a new riot of colour which exudes its own warmth and sense of wellbeing. It makes you want to walk down a tree-lined avenue in the park, coffee in hand, music on, and take a look around with a contented sigh. For me, it is just a great time to ‘be’.

In the UK I constantly find that autumn seems to become a source of misery (not to all, of course – and power to you!): ‘I had to turn on the heating last night *sigh*’ ‘Is the weather this miserable where you are?’ ‘How depressing. Everything’s dying.’ Autumn seems to mean the decline of the year, the step closer to another stressful Christmas. Perhaps it is just another reason to grumble. Here, however, autumn is nothing if not a completely new lifestyle and mode of thinking. In my wanders around Potsdam and Berlin the emphasis lies on autumn as a time of togetherness, productivity and fruitfulness, tapping into a new kind of warmth as summer disappears, and almost a new source of fun.

The motif of harvest is everywhere right now alongside everything Halloween-related – shops and tables are festooned with foliage, wheat, grasses and plush scarecrows ; the colours are dominated by reds, oranges and russets. Contrary to autumn as being a season of decline (however beautiful), the emphasis here is the fruit of previous seasons’ labour – something that I think has perhaps fallen by the wayside a little at home. It is not an obligation enforced by your local church or village hall – it is a statement, an illustration of a lifestyle. The German work ethic needs no expansion. However, their capacity for relaxation, fun and ‘downtime’ does.

With this in mind, what I’ve also found here is that autumn time means PARTY TIME! It took living here for a few months to realise how little excuse is needed in Germany (at least where I’ve been) to celebrate something. Autumn is no exception. To start with: one word – Oktoberfest. Need I go on?? Beer, a crowd of your friends, parades, brass bands and fantastic costume. Few things get more fun than that, right? I was also really intrigued by a recent article from (find) that highlighted the importance of national identity to the Munich celebrations. However, we did not lose out for not living there – Potsdam has been hosting an October funfair near Alter Markt (which sends a mile-high spotlight into the air every night). I can’t lie, I really, really want to go. Walking past, the air is immediately filled with those old ‘Cotton Eye Joe’-esque classics (I really wish I was being sarcastic) that play on the rides, brightly coloured lights and that weirdly addictive smell of candyfloss. My inner child is ecstatic. For a couple of weeks a brass band in Bavarian get-up was resident amongst the cafes and had the more inebriated Germans singing and banging on the tables.

I end this big ol’ ramble with my final observation: asthetically, I think Berlin, Potsdam and the German lifestyle are made for autumn. The way that the gold-tinged light falls on the red bricks of the Holländisches Viertel and honey/cream nineteenth-century apartments which harmonise so well with the tree-lined avenues, the plethora of horse chestnuts and cobbles. Riding your bike wrapped up in autumn uniform – a wool coat, thick scarves, knee-high boots and hats. When the late afternoon sunlight spills into big open rooms like a Midas touch. When it is time for even the hardiest cafe-dwellers to throw off their outdoor blankets and retreat inside amid candles to sip their milchkaffees. The way that the grey mists and iron wintry skies perfectly accentuate Berlin’s hard edge, bleak past and gritty present; in spite of this, the way that the colours are just more colourful here.

So there you have it! My first little natter. I say little. This is an essay really. If you’ve got this far, I promise you a toffee apple

I’m a History graduate, fresh(ish) from the University of York (my blog title is in part a homage to its most famous little street) and the cosy embrace of Bristol, my home city. In an impulsive moment of excitedness last year I decided to move to Potsdam with my dad, and spend a year experiencing a new country, a new lifestyle, the perks of an AMAZING apartment and most importantly, to learn German and therefore have another skill to take with me into my eventual Masters (and hopefully PhD/glittering future academic career, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves). So, that’s where I am today, a few months in and continuing to settle.

These plans/experiences/whathaveyou are all part and parcel of this blog. It’s a time of undeniable change, that I think all graduates enter into. All graduates are also encouraged to set up blogs too, to ‘make them stand out’ on job applications (mind you, they are so widespread now I think they have become the rule rather than the exception). This blog, however, is not limited to making me more employable. It is a little bit of everything. Thoughts, observations, big ol’ rambles and personal manifestos, photos.. Discovery, I think. Discovery of myself at this particular crossroads, and just about everything else. Living, food, places, fashion, music, art, literature, sex, nothing is off limits. Think of this blog as a reflection of how my mind works. Shambolically.

Whilst this isn’t exactly in ‘Pillow Book’ format, my inspiration for this comes from Sei Shōnagon’s Pillow Book (which I have been coveting for years) and a work inspired by it which remains my favourite book to date: Adrian Chambers’ This Is All: The Pillow Book of Cordelia Kenn. It will be interesting – I’ve never attempted anything like it before outside of my own personal scribblings! So we shall see how we go – I’d put a disclaimer here saying ‘Maybe don’t read if you’re offended/under 18′ or whathaveyou, but to be honest I have no idea what I’ll come out with yet!

Do we ever?

From 'The Pillow Book' - well, who wouldn't appreciate Ewan McGregor covered with nothing but Japanese script?