Herby goodness

I know I haven't blogged in a while but between being sick, working, watching Ugly Betty, and just being a general lazy ass, I didn't have the time. :P Also, I didn't blog about our weekend away to Oxford and Bath and I think that sort of snowballed into general unblogginess. Basically, I've come to far to turn back now. :P If you want t know what happened in Oxford and Bath, you can take a look at Celiwe's blog, which has all the details and a bunch of pictures.

I wanted to blog about our trip to Jekka's Herb Farm near Bristol on Monday, coz Celiwe wasn't there and if I don't do it, it'll probably get lost in the annals of time, and I'll forget, like I forgot about Becky and I jumping up and down to catch a glimpse of Orlando Bloom at the Pirates of the Caribbean premier in Leicester Square back in 2003.

The farm is run by a woman called Jekka McVicar and she's been growing herbs for about 25 years. She's won something like 17 gold medals from the Royal Horticultural Society and won an award at the Chelsea Garden Show last year as well, which is quite an achievement considering she won for a herb garden!

Sameer's colleague Mpumi is planning on starting a herb farm with his wife. They're hoping to preserve some of the indigenous plants that are used for medicinal purposes and at the same time, transfer skills to people in the Eastern Cape, and also help boost the economy in the area as well.

So we went to see Jekka,who Mpumpi met at Kirstenbosch last year when she was doing a lecture tour. Her farm is just outside Bristol so it was a three hour drive from here but I didn't really feel it, I slept the whole way there.

We got there and went in to the little pre-fab building next to the stone cottage and chatted to Jekka about herb farming. Well, lets just say I don't know anything about it! Respect to Jekka! There's so much you have to consider when sourcing your plants, propagating them, gathering and cleaning seeds, tending seedlings, controlling the environment for optimum sun, optimum light, optimum water and having integrated pest management so you don't have to use pesticides and deciding what kind of soil, what kind of compost, what kind of nutrients you want to use and on and on. And on!

So, I'll skip the rest and just post pictures. Coz really, it was teh pretties! Too bad I didn't get a picture of Jekka's dog, Hampton. He was soooo big and sooo gentle. Really adorable. Made me want to get a dog.

Oh, other than these two, there are a couple more pics on my Flickr site if anyone's interested.

Weekend, do what you wanna do, weekend!

Oi! Going back to work after two month's of nothing but lazing about and reading really helps you appreciate a day off!

I think I may have failed to mention it directly but I actually worked this week. :P Five days of data entry out in Waterbeach. Ye gads! Not even Waterbeach - the frikkin Research Park!

In the words of Inigo Montoya "Lemme 'splain. No, it take too long. Lemme sum up".

The Cambridge Research Park is over half an hour away from Cambridge proper by bus. The bus departs from the Drummer Street bus station once every hour. The Drummer Street bus station is a 10 minute cycle from Wolfson, 15 minutes if you're a sick duck, which I am. So I've been up after six each day this week to get dressed in the dark, so as not to wake sensitive, light-sleeping eat cereal alone in the servery, cycle to the bus station, and then catch the bus to the Research Park by 8.

Hey, this short story is turning into quite a long one. Ignore the Inigo Montoya quote above, I was just trying to get a Princess Bride reference in somewhere.

So, firstly, cold much. And secondly, being sick and cycling in the cold is also not so good but I didn't want to turn down the first substantial job I got offered, especially when it's something as simple as data entry, which I can pretty much do in my sleep. Easy money, and most pathetically, on an hour by hour basis, it pays about the same as my job at Laragh. Freaky and slightly depressing.

So anyway, the place was interesting enough. It was called Elecheck which I, thinking logically, pronounced Ele-check. I get there, and people are answering phones saying "Good morning, Elec Check, how may I help you?" And I was like, huh? Did I miss a C or a squared sign?

So what they do is send "engineers" out to test portable equipment for faults and electrical problems. Well, being married to an engineer, I know that this is not what engineers actually do. These people are actually electricians with delusions of grandeur. I mean, Sameer is a proper engineer. His job at Koeberg was to go out each morning and check that all the batteries were working but that's different. Those were bigger batteries, house sized ones, hence there was actual grandeur, not imaginary ones.

Anyway, lets move on. My job was to type of the job sheets, which are written out by the engineers. Some have lovely handwriting, and some, well oi. Indeciferable much. So, it was alright. Lots of the old "typety-type" ala HomeChoice and also, since I had my iPod playing all the music I used to work at Laragh, there were some nostalgic moments too. I especially realized how much I missed the quirky people at Laragh, and the laid back attitude. You know, the one we had back in 2006. ;)

It had a very HomeChoicy atmosphere with a few odd quirks, such as:
1. The Sales Director, Marco, would come in each morning and, with varying degrees of enthusiasm, call out "Good morning people, remember - Don't just check it. Elec-check it!"
2. The women in admin would react to this with varying degrees of amusement and irritation.
3. They had a "Banana Bread Challenge" on Friday. Someone had challenged someone else concerning the quality of their banana bread. So they both baked, cut the cake, put it on separate platters labelled A and B, then offered everyone a piece of each. They also gave us color-printed ballot forms that said "Banana Bread Challenge Voting Form" and had two check boxes - A and B. We had to tick one and place it in the ballot box by end of day.
4. The ladies bathroom had intimate wipes. Nifty. I've never seen that before in a bathroom but I'm all in favour of it catching on. :P
5. Their server only backs things up at the end of the day. By G_d that is a recipe for disaster! I accidentally deleted a spreadsheet that listed 1050 items on it and found that it wasn't in my Recycle Bin coz everything runs off remote servers! They had to call their IT people to retrieve it for me, which thankfully they were able to do but come on - asking for trouble much?
6. It turned out that the woman who was overseeing us temps used to be married to a South African, lived there for about 15 years, and both her kids still live there. Not only that but her son, Shane, converted to Islam and married a Muslim girl named Tasneem, from some place north of Durban! Small world and weird co-incidences! Through my woefully inadequate iPod headphones, I heard her scolding some of the girls in Zulu at one point. It was so strange and interesting.

So anyway, being me, instead of getting better and better, I just got sicker and sicker. Feeling phlegmy and cycling to work at a leasurely clip, not bad. Running from the office at 17:00 to make your 17:05 bus, not so much fun. (The bus stops quite a distance from the office.) I was in some serious pain each afternoon, knife in the chest like pain, and that one simple factor was what put me off the whole thing. (For some obscure reason they are not very pro letting you leave early at this place.)

Anyway, it's over now. Except that I may be asked to go back in the week again. :P I'm a sucker for money so I might actually say yes but it all depends on how I feel. Or on how badly I want the complete Angel DVD boxed set... Gotto say, right now I want it pretty bad. I have absolutely no resistance to temptation. It's a failing. Thank G_d I don't drink or do drugs. I would be such an addict.

I think I'd be a terrible druggy. I'd wander around in a stupor, all red eyed, with Shreddies crumbs down my shirt, shouting at random passerbys in off kilter gam. "Jou ma! Verby vannie yaad af! Haal uit en wys, wat kine?"

Yes, it is late now. And it being weekend, I can sleep in and have brunch that does not consist of Frosted Shreddies and reconstituted milk.

[There needs to be a whole 'nother post about the glory of Shreddies. But 'tis for another day.]

In lieu of pictures (coz I haven't taken any since last week), I leave you with this strange but amusing YouTube video - the Obama/Guiliani dancing girl face off - hi-larious!

A moment lost in time

I finally decided to drop in to the Tai Chi class that they have here at Wolfson. I've been meaning to go since I first saw the posters in the corridors at Bredon House but I was also apprehensive because I know that there are many different forms of Tai Chi and many different styles. I knew there was slim chance that they'd be doing Yang Style Tai Chi that looked anything like what I'd been taught.

Tonight we meant to go to the little TV room to watch the Arsenal/Milan match but when I got there it was already crowded with people and smelling strongly of sweat and dinner breath. So I thought, well, the Lee Seng Tee hall is just around here and the Tai Chi class must just have started, so I might as well drop in and see what it's like.

When I got there, there were two guys doing some co-operative movements together. I'd seen this in books and on TV before but we'd never actually done it in our class. The teacher, a man called Dan, came over to speak to me and told me about his teacher who was from Venezuela, and who had learned from a Tai Chi master who's name I can't remember. He explained that following the paired exercise, they'd be doing a short 36 step form and then a longer 124 form. Well, we did a 24 and a 48 form for starters so I knew there was going to be some new stuff here.

After a brief tea break (with little handle-less Chinese cups) they started the 36 form. The movements looked familiar and I recognized the names that Dan was calling out - Single Whip, Part the Horses Mane, Wave Hands Like Cloud. All of this was familiar and yet put together in combinations that I had never seen. I found myself taking note of the way they held their bodies, the fluidity of their hand movements, checking to see if their heads moved in the same direction as their bodies.

I realize that I was being critical, perhaps too harshly. But my Sifu, Xia Ke Hxiong, was a hard act to follow. You'd have to be, to become Jet Li's stunt double. He'd been training since he was a small child, done all sorts of marshall arts, and he moved with such grace. We would sometimes ask him to do Chen Style moves for us and he would smile and start the slow, liquid moves that exploded into kicks, punches. It was like watching a movie. We were sometimes frustrated with his lack of English but after watching this class I realized there's only so much instruction anyone can really give on how to do what needs to be done. Even Dan here, who is British, went about saying things like "Slowly", "Prepare for the Whip", and "Guard your neck". Sifu was the same, except for every form he named, he said "Slow" five times.

I also realized that there was something more to the way I was feeling. Even if I took this class, it would never give me what I got from my Saturday morning classes at St Joseph's. I felt a great sadness for the Saturday mornings that I used to have, driving to St Joseph's alone, waiting outside the hall for the rest of the class to arrive, the yellow, morning light filtering in through the high windows at the hall, with it's dusty and worn wooden floors. I remember the music from Sifu's cassette player coming through softly, calming us all, setting the tempo of our movements, the way we would all move together concentrating on our movements and positioning, the shifting of our weight, yet at the same time feeling our minds relax and wander. You would notice a movement to one side and realize that yes, you were centered within yourself but were also surrounded by others. I always left Tai Chi with a great sense of peace. And that is something that I can never have again. Any other class and I would probably criticize their lack of style and grace, the music (if there even is music), or if not that, find that there are too few people or too many, it's too cold, it's not bright enough, it's at the wrong time of day. Really what I want is to return to that moment in time, which was always perfect. The classes at St Joseph's stopped running before I even left Cape Town cause it had too few students, but there are still classes in Athlone, Sea Point, and Durbanville. But this is moot, since I'm now moving to Johannesburg. So those lovely, peaceful Saturday mornings are something that will be consigned to memory, lost in time forever.

My kingdom for a kitchen

I had to go to the dining hall tonight to get dinner. Sameer went to Enterprise Tuesday so he at least was saved.

You know, I've gotten over my initial reactions to Wolfson food. First it was alright, then it was bad, then - surpisingly - it actually got to be pretty good. For the past two weeks or so it's been generally alright. Downright tasty at times. I just figure, well you know - every cook has their ups and downs. It's no reflection on the overall quality of the food. But today. People, today was just scraping the bottom of the barrel.

My favourite (that was my sarcastic voice) Spaghetti Vegenaise. The other option was Thai Pork Curry so there wasn't really an alternative. Now, as anyone who's randomly dropped into our house may know, I make Spaghetti Blogonaise at least once a week. This is because you can cook it in 15 minutes flat and its really, really hard to screw up. All you need is tin of tomato and onion mix, a bit of fresh garlic, some coriander, and chillies. All other spices, strictly optional. And it always satisfies.

So I get my Venegaise and sit down. It looks alright, nice red color. I won't deny it, I was fooled by the color. You see lovely rich colors and you think "Hmmm, spicey!" Well...

The Vegenaise consists of tomato and (I presume) onion but the bulk of it is made up by red lentils and soya mince. No train smash there. I myself have cooked tomato based vegetarian pasta with red lentils before. It does serve to bulk up your sauce.

But people, there is simply no excuse for the sheer lack of flavour that I encountered. I sat down and tasted - nothing. Well, salt tends to bring out the flavour in food, so I sprinkled on some salt. Nothing. More salt. Still nothing. Well, then I went the whole hog and sprinkled liberally with salt, pepper, and Tabasco sauce. Of course, that just made it taste like salt, pepper, and Tabasco sauce.

Mystified, I bent my head down to the plate to inhale the food smell, try to get the aroma. Aroma is the litmus test of food. Food - good or bad - can be tasted simply by leaning forward and taking a good, long sniff through the nostrils. I know this is a horrible thing to say but when I was working at HomeChoice on a Saturday morning, fasting, and everyone around me was eating McDonalds, people would say "Aren't you getting lus?" and I'd say "No, I'm tasting it right now." You know it's true! How many of you have come home from work or campus during Ramadaan, gone into the kitchen, opened up the pots, leaned forward and ..... inhaled the food. It's either just enough to satisfy you or to drive you absolutely mad.

When I leaned over my plate of food at dinner tonight I smelled absolutely nothing. Nothing!

"How?" I ask you. How on earth do you cook a meal that smells like nothing, tastes like nothing?!

I was sitting there, pushing bits of lentils and soy around thinking "By G_D I bet I can cook a Vegenaise better than this!"

Some braised onions, green peppers, mushrooms and the secret ingredient GARLIC!!! It is not so hard! What do people here have against garlic? Some fresh, crushed garlic would breath life into that food.

Oh Lord! I'm on a mission. It has never occurred to me to cook a vegetarian bolognese. I like my beef mince. I enjoy it so much I cook it every week! But now I have to do it. I have to cook a meatless bolognese because I have to prove that it can be done! Prove that there is nothing inherently tasteless about Vegenaise, about red lentils and soya. It is not impossible!

I'm too sick to blog

*cough cough wheeze*

And I had to walk home from the bus stop today in the cold. Took me the better part of an hour - noooo!!! I woke up this morning thinking "I should call in sick, and then just lie here all day in my warm bed, drifting in and out of sleep, all nuzzly and warm."

And while I tried to write that, I kept thinking "Lay down? Lie down? What the heck is it?"

Well for all you grammarly sticklers out there, here it is:

usage lay has been used intransitively in the sense of “lie” since the 14th century. The practice was unremarked until around 1770; attempts to correct it have been a fixture of schoolbooks ever since. Generations of teachers and critics have succeeded in taming most literary and learned writing, but intransitive lay persists in familiar speech and is a bit more common in general prose than one might suspect. Much of the problem lies in the confusing similarity of the principal parts of the two words. Another influence may be a folk belief that lie is for people and lay is for things. Some commentators are ready to abandon the distinction, suggesting that lay is on the rise socially. But if it does rise to respectability, it is sure to do so slowly: many people have invested effort in learning to keep lie and lay distinct. Remember that even though many people do use lay for lie, others will judge you unfavorably if you do.

Lifted direct from the Merriam Webster online dictionary. So while you ponder the transitional nature of grammatical superiority, I'll go lay down and get some shuteye before tomorrow, which will surely bring more cycling, walking, and yes, even running.

My kind and generous nature insists that I leave you with this image. Sweet dreams.