Whew. I have been drowning in schoolwork, supervisor duties, and stress.
Last night I took a brief break from all the craziness, and went to a practice ceilidh dance to prepare for the St Andrews Anniversary Ball that I'm going to on Saturday night (I'm really looking forward to it!!).
I was late due to the schoolwork craziness, but managed to practice four dances, and remembered how fun it is! I also saw some friends I've made in the St Andrews Alumni Club of Toronto, who are some of the most kind people I know.
Last Saturday night the aforementioned Club held a wine and cheese. This was kind of the anniversary for me, since the first event I ever attended was last year's wine and cheese. And I had a great time both nights. This year, one of the men I worked with on the St Andrews Dinner in Honour of the President and Vice-Chancellor, etc. gave me a lot of good advice about networking and getting a job. Getting a career. I really enjoyed listening, and that conversation motivated me to actually start asking people for informational interviews and the like. Anyway, I also had a great time talking to other people, some new, some I remembered from the year before.
It's definitely been fun getting away from the work and stress, but it sure didn't lessen the overall amount of either. Which means I should probably get started on the next thing...
November Resolutions Update:
I just remembered I posted about my November resolutions, and in going back through them I discovered that I have, indeed, managed to follow at least three of them (grad school does not equal life; I will get out more; I will spend less time in front of my computer). Unfortunately, I have hardly eaten five meals at home this month.
Showing posts with label Scotland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scotland. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Summertime: Gin and Tonic Upgrade
Today I want to write about the color green.
But I'm going to start with a little history.
Back in Scotland, one of the "summer" drinks was Pimm's. It's pretty ubiquitous, and you don't need to know what it is to enjoy it properly - the recipe's on the bottle. Basically, take Pimm's, add lemon-lime soda (tonic might work, too), and fruit. Cut up strawberries and cucumbers especially, but citrus and other fruits work as well. Stir, and enjoy. We used to drink these every summer, at garden parties, in beer gardens, any pretty outside location, really.
Returning to the present, today is the first legitimately warm day in Scotland since October (says the woman from south of the M-D). In celebration, I've opened my door to let the sunshine in - early evening, fortuitously, is the best part of the day for this - and I'm having a gin and tonic. You thought I was going to say Pimm's, didn't you? :) I don't actually have any, but gin works almost as well.
In fact, the reason I told the story about Pimm's and Scotland is because I've upgraded my gin and tonic (with lime). It now includes cucumber. And it makes a very pleasantly, noticeable difference. First, cucumber just smells fresh and sunny. Secondly, it adds a really light high note on the palate of aforementioned fresh and sunny qualities.
Try it. Tell me if you like it.
But I'm going to start with a little history.
Back in Scotland, one of the "summer" drinks was Pimm's. It's pretty ubiquitous, and you don't need to know what it is to enjoy it properly - the recipe's on the bottle. Basically, take Pimm's, add lemon-lime soda (tonic might work, too), and fruit. Cut up strawberries and cucumbers especially, but citrus and other fruits work as well. Stir, and enjoy. We used to drink these every summer, at garden parties, in beer gardens, any pretty outside location, really.
Returning to the present, today is the first legitimately warm day in Scotland since October (says the woman from south of the M-D). In celebration, I've opened my door to let the sunshine in - early evening, fortuitously, is the best part of the day for this - and I'm having a gin and tonic. You thought I was going to say Pimm's, didn't you? :) I don't actually have any, but gin works almost as well.
In fact, the reason I told the story about Pimm's and Scotland is because I've upgraded my gin and tonic (with lime). It now includes cucumber. And it makes a very pleasantly, noticeable difference. First, cucumber just smells fresh and sunny. Secondly, it adds a really light high note on the palate of aforementioned fresh and sunny qualities.
Try it. Tell me if you like it.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Party like it's... 1413? Happy Anniversary, St Andrews!
Aside from a few minor glitches, and in planning anything, there will always be one or two, the event went off without a hitch. Approximately 85 guests showed up, everyone dressed snazzily, and mingled with refreshments before the dining room opened. I spent most of this time handing out name cards and answering the question, "where is the coat room?"
If I had a digital camera, this post would include pictures, but sadly, such is not the case.
At any rate, we sat down to dinner with a slide show of Googled images of St Andrews (and Kate Middleton posing in her underwear - a picture that just sold for an obscene amount of money in London) and beautiful live harp music in the background. The salad was the best part of the dinner, except for the rolls. Having worked a few weddings last summer, I wasn't really surprised.
Between the main course and dessert, Doug Gibson traveled around the room with a mic, gathering stories from anyone interested in sharing their St Andrews experiences with the rest of the room. The first speaker was a woman who graduated in 1944!!
After dinner Louise Richardson addressed the guests, and did a wonderful job. I was very impressed with what she had to say and with her plans for the university. I hope she achieves the things she's set out to do. Recent graduates might be interested to know that the new library project had to be scrapped due to little to no financial support from the government, and instead the less-costly renovation plans have focused on increasing seating ... and books. The university has bought land out by Guardbridge in order to house graduate students and unused library stores, among other things - and I believe some of that acreage has been earmarked for a bio-mass plant. She mentioned other interesting projects, but sadly I didn't take notes and can't remember any more. She fielded several questions about tuition (no mention of the outrageous hikes in England), the library, student demographics, and the Prince and soon-to-be-Princess's visit to the campus last month. Apparently the couple has fond memories of their experiences there. Who doesn't, I would like to know?
Which reminds me. Of course the biggest piece of news surrounding the university at this time is not, as you might think (but you probably know better), the university's anniversary, but rather the university's status as top matchmaking university in the [world]. Taking advantage of this were GlobalTV, who attended the event in order to interview any guests who met and fell in love with their partners while at St Andrews. Somewhat unflatteringly, the Principal and Vice Chancellor gave half the credit for this status to "isolation." Hmm. Making the best of a small selection, perhaps? I kid.
Door prizes were awarded, I stood up to be acknowledged for my role in the planning of the event, and walked home with the centerpiece, a small bush of Scottish heather - but that completes the surfeit of interesting news about the event.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Burns Night Supper
To sum up the last few weeks, I've been getting back into the swing of grad school, and avoiding reading, studying and writing. They haven't been very productive weeks...
But that's not what this post is about. This is another post about the wonderful people of the St Andrews Alumni Club in Toronto. And Robbie Burns Night.
Last night was Robbie Burns night. And the first time I'd celebrated the "holiday" since I was a young, impressionable first-year at university. At the time, I had no idea what I was getting into, when I was volunteered to stab the haggis after the reading of "Address to a Haggis." Last night, one of the alumni demonstrated the talent it takes to do it properly. A friend of mine has a video - I'll see if I can't get him to send it to me so I can add it later.
The haggis was delicious, the neeps and tatties, too; the company delightful, and the AGM short and witty. I somewhat rashly volunteered to help prepare for a high-profile dinner and event happening in March. This should light a fire under me to get started and finished with my work, but I've a feeling the influence of the cold, snowy winter weather is just too strong...
Speaking of which, I should get back to it. (Work, that is, not winter.)
But that's not what this post is about. This is another post about the wonderful people of the St Andrews Alumni Club in Toronto. And Robbie Burns Night.
Last night was Robbie Burns night. And the first time I'd celebrated the "holiday" since I was a young, impressionable first-year at university. At the time, I had no idea what I was getting into, when I was volunteered to stab the haggis after the reading of "Address to a Haggis." Last night, one of the alumni demonstrated the talent it takes to do it properly. A friend of mine has a video - I'll see if I can't get him to send it to me so I can add it later.
The haggis was delicious, the neeps and tatties, too; the company delightful, and the AGM short and witty. I somewhat rashly volunteered to help prepare for a high-profile dinner and event happening in March. This should light a fire under me to get started and finished with my work, but I've a feeling the influence of the cold, snowy winter weather is just too strong...
Speaking of which, I should get back to it. (Work, that is, not winter.)
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Ode To A Haggis - A Scottish Supper
Tonight is Rabbie Burns' Night. And although perhaps not as celebrated as Guy Fawkes Night, which includes fireworks and a historical treasonous plot, or Christmas, still it involves celebration and good food. That is, if you like haggis (I do).
It turns out I'm not the only person at work who misses Scotland, so I invited my coworker out for a "Scottish" evening on this very Scottish holiday, to the only Scottish pub in the area - an hour away. Apparently the Scots don't emigrate and then open pubs as frequently as the Irish do.
When I got to the pub there were a dozen or so fiddle players playing Scottish folk music, to set the appropriate stage for Robert Burns' Night. No bagpipes, which was probably a good thing, they're so loud, and the fiddles already made conversation difficult. Though I do love bagpipes (I hear it's love or hate, but no in-between).
The restaurant is packed when I walk in, I can barely get past the entrance. There are at least three gentleman wearing kilts, without Scottish accents, disappointingly, and the average patron's age seems to be 45, with a few children to bring that number down. We started off with a haggis appetizer, and then had other Scottish dishes, that weren't quite like we remembered, of course... About halfway through a man got up (one of the ones with kilts on) and spoke into the microphone, inviting anybody to share with the group music or words, and threatened (promised?) to recite Rabbie Burns' poem "Ode to a Haggis" in two versions, later on.
Another gets up with a fiddle and plays for a minute or two before a guy in plaid trousers (yep, trousers) sits down at our table and asks if we're done fiddling. We both give him blank looks, neither of us having brought a fiddle to play, or even knowing how to play a fiddle. He starts, looks down, sees what he'd taken for a fiddle case is actually a purse, and disappears with an apology for the intrusion. Later he joined the first fiddle player with his own.
Over dessert, the first kilted guy and a very excited patron, also in a kilt, walk in a procession holding up a plate with a haggis on it, to the front of the room. The first gets up to the mic again and starts reciting in an almost-Scottish accent, the aforementioned poem. Which is written in Scots, so unintelligible in the first place, and made more so by the accent. The haggis is sitting out on a tray right up in front, next to a shot of whisky (I've heard Scotch whisky's spelled differently because in the 19th century smugglers made the distinction in order to find a loophole in the prohibition of the importation of alcohol). The poem is read again, this time in English, and then another song is sung.
Evidently there are traditional toasts to the Lassies and the Laddies, and stories that go along with the toasts. The kilted man who read the poem began the toast to the Lassies with some very inappropriate sexual innuendo concerning the microphone - most of the older patrons seemed to find it funny, but we two twentysomethings felt a little out of place. Probably we were the only customers present who weren't tipsy.
We left before the story about the Laddies concluded. All in all, a very entertaining evening and excellent people watching. Especially that one sexagenarian who loudly bemoaned the lack of bagpipes, carried the haggis to the podium, and drank a whisky in salute to the guest of honor.
It turns out I'm not the only person at work who misses Scotland, so I invited my coworker out for a "Scottish" evening on this very Scottish holiday, to the only Scottish pub in the area - an hour away. Apparently the Scots don't emigrate and then open pubs as frequently as the Irish do.
When I got to the pub there were a dozen or so fiddle players playing Scottish folk music, to set the appropriate stage for Robert Burns' Night. No bagpipes, which was probably a good thing, they're so loud, and the fiddles already made conversation difficult. Though I do love bagpipes (I hear it's love or hate, but no in-between).
The restaurant is packed when I walk in, I can barely get past the entrance. There are at least three gentleman wearing kilts, without Scottish accents, disappointingly, and the average patron's age seems to be 45, with a few children to bring that number down. We started off with a haggis appetizer, and then had other Scottish dishes, that weren't quite like we remembered, of course... About halfway through a man got up (one of the ones with kilts on) and spoke into the microphone, inviting anybody to share with the group music or words, and threatened (promised?) to recite Rabbie Burns' poem "Ode to a Haggis" in two versions, later on.
Another gets up with a fiddle and plays for a minute or two before a guy in plaid trousers (yep, trousers) sits down at our table and asks if we're done fiddling. We both give him blank looks, neither of us having brought a fiddle to play, or even knowing how to play a fiddle. He starts, looks down, sees what he'd taken for a fiddle case is actually a purse, and disappears with an apology for the intrusion. Later he joined the first fiddle player with his own.
Over dessert, the first kilted guy and a very excited patron, also in a kilt, walk in a procession holding up a plate with a haggis on it, to the front of the room. The first gets up to the mic again and starts reciting in an almost-Scottish accent, the aforementioned poem. Which is written in Scots, so unintelligible in the first place, and made more so by the accent. The haggis is sitting out on a tray right up in front, next to a shot of whisky (I've heard Scotch whisky's spelled differently because in the 19th century smugglers made the distinction in order to find a loophole in the prohibition of the importation of alcohol). The poem is read again, this time in English, and then another song is sung.
Evidently there are traditional toasts to the Lassies and the Laddies, and stories that go along with the toasts. The kilted man who read the poem began the toast to the Lassies with some very inappropriate sexual innuendo concerning the microphone - most of the older patrons seemed to find it funny, but we two twentysomethings felt a little out of place. Probably we were the only customers present who weren't tipsy.
We left before the story about the Laddies concluded. All in all, a very entertaining evening and excellent people watching. Especially that one sexagenarian who loudly bemoaned the lack of bagpipes, carried the haggis to the podium, and drank a whisky in salute to the guest of honor.
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