Cake

In the past week, I have realised that one of the biggest parts of my life in the UK has been cake. My life has always involved a fair amount of cake, e.g. the delicious vegan cakes cooked by my colleague at Macmillan (those lime and coconut vegan cupcakes have never been forgotten) and the various banana/pear/raspberry/strawberry breads that seemed to always appear at Glover St were amazing. But my consumption of cake has increased exponentially since moving, and I personally have only baked once. Here are the different places where cake is found:

- Work: every time there is a birthday, anniversary, leaving, new arrival, pregnancy, marriage, or someone coming back from holidays, there is cake. Also when people's gardens overflow with fruits that could be used to make cake. So yes. There is ALWAYS cake at work. The best example of this was the spectacular array of cake that we had for a recent charity cake morning. See below - I think the picture says it all. Because that is a cake. And all of it is edible.

- Choir: every week, a section bakes for everyone else. Deliciousness ensues.
- Bible study: last week, we all chose a cake that we would like to see at some point during the term. It was my one year-a-versary last week, so mine was first (see below) and it was certainly delicious.

- Home: there's no specific system for cake, but there always seems to be something around. There was a point when we first moved in that I think we had banana bread, chocolate cake, a different other cake and a fourth kind of cake sitting around the house and we had to have a house moratorium on buying new cake until all the old cake was gone. On Friday I saw one housemate for only 10 minutes, during which time she handed me a cupcake before leaving for the next 2 days.
- Out: one of the highlights of Cambridge is Fitzbillies, which has delicious cakes in it. When I don't know what to give someone, I go there and buy cake. It's always a winner.

I don't really have much else to say on this subject, so to sum up: there is a lot of cake, everywhere; it is all delicious and amazing; thank goodness I ride my bike everywhere when there is so much cake around.

ONE YEAR

One year ago exactly, I got on a plane at Sydney Airport and headed over to the UK. It's simultaneously hard to believe that it's already been a year, and that it's only been a year.

It feels like no time at all since I stepped off that plane and started my new life here - I feel like there's so much I haven't yet done, so many adventures still to be had, that it can't possibly have been a year.

At the same time, I can't believe that I have only lived here a year - I have made friends that I know I'll keep for the rest of my life; I've learned to love a new city; I've settled into work; I've lived in three different houses. I've also seen four completely distinct seasons, which is something you don't get back home. It's now changing into autumn, and I'm back where I started. In the past year I have:

- Travelled to London, Edinburgh, Derbyshire, Wales, Prague and Zagreb, often with family or friends from back home
- Swum in the Atlantic
- Coppiced
- Stood in a cathedral listening to a woman whistle 'Jerusalem'
- Climbed Arthur's Seat
- Fought with snow
- Picked apples off a tree and eaten them
- Walked 10 miles, singing
- Made a Christmas dinner
- Moved house a couple of times
- Learned to punt (sort of...)
- Made many many friends

In the next twelve months I will do some or all of these:

- Go to Munich, maybe twice
- Go to Devon
- Celebrate Christmas with some Australians in Cambridge
- Go to Africa
- See the Northern Lights (in Iceland? I hope so...)

And that's just the things I have planned. I'm sad because one year past means only one year left (probably? Possibly. I don't know) and that seems so short - but what a blessing this year has been.

Homesick (take 2)

Yesterday I wrote a post feeling VERY sorry for myself. The gist of it was that I'm homesick, but I expanded on the theme for a while. I posted it and then when I re-read it, it was so self-indulgent that I just had to scrap it and start again. The theme of that post was - woe is me, how homesick I am! But while acknowledging that I am homesick, maybe it's more constructive to say WHY I am homesick. So I'm going to copy a wonderful friend's example, and tell you about the very special people I have in my life, and I think this will help to explain why I might feel homesick when they're far from me.

1. Mum (who should always come first in every list). Who can say what a blessing it is to have a mother who is simultaneously incredibly capable, full of good sense, funny, kind and a wonderful daughter of God? My mother does NOT like to talk about herself very much and will hate me a bit for this, but golly I'm glad to have her. She tells me funny stories about what the dog is doing, about her work as a school chaplain, about what's happening at church - and when I think about the way she talks about all these things I think, what a big heart she has. I am so glad to be her daughter. I have literally never wished for a different or 'better' mum. And perhaps I go my own way and perhaps I don't really look like I'm listening when she gives advice .... But what she says always has some impact. She always thinks of what is best for us - so when I had second thoughts and thought about staying in Australia because I was afraid, she said "I don't want you to go but I think you'll always regret it if you don't." What a mother.

2. Sisters (so different in who they are and also in our relationships, but I can't put one first or it looks like favourites). One is a mother of three who is also writing a novel. Um, what? How is that possible? THREE children AND a novel. Amazing. The other is a 13 year old who I have seen grow from a baby, who is such a big part of my own life and so important to our whole extended family that sometimes I think we couldn't exist without her. Also we are all identical.

3. Grandparents. A year or two ago they celebrated 50 years of marriage. They are such a faithful couple in serving the Lord, loving their family and caring for the people around them. And in September, they're going for a cruise through Russia to celebrate being nearly 80. I want to be these people when I'm nearly 80. They are amazing.

4. Friends. One best friend studying and working in Adelaide whose passion and fun and depth and frivolity make me laugh and think and be oh so grateful always. Another getting ready to move to Johannesburg to be an OT whose infectious personality and gorgeous smile and do-anything approach to life are something beautiful to behold - who also gave me the gift of the ukulele (the actual instrument and the ability to play it) and the inspiration for the musical voicemail. Another living out her dream job in Canberra and Darwin, with whom I've shared the details of life through emails for the past 6 years, and who has provided the soundtrack to my life through her mix tapes. Another who is grace and style personified, a feisty, passionate thinker who is equally committed to living thoughtfully and to having fun - and who really ought to move to England as she keeps thinking of doing! And SO many more. I have been so blessed with friends.

So yes, I am homesick. But I'm also so thankful. I could never be homesick if I wasn't unbelievably blessed; just as I'll miss Cambridge terribly when I move on, because I'm so blessed in my life here.

Next time I'll be back to a whimsical list but it's sometimes nice to talk about my feelings.

To do

I recently decided I need to keep a to-do list of all the things to do before I leave England. And then I thought, why not be properly gen y and make everyone read that list?* So here it is - including some things I have done and some others that I may never actually get around to. But hopefully I'll be able to tick off most. Please add any suggestions, and more importantly please help me to do these things if it lies within your power!

1. Leave Cambridge once a month, either on a day trip or holiday. Technically this is my New Year's resolution although I'm undecided on whether I've managed to keep it. I only passed January if already being in Scotland at the beginning of the month counts, and I've only passed April if already being in Croatia counts (unless I skive off tomorrow and go to Newmarket or something equally grim). I'm going to say they do count otherwise I'm awful at this resolution and I'll just have to try harder for the next 17 months. My reasoning is that it's ok if I don't use the same trip for two different months - i.e I can use Croatia for April as long as I use a different trip for March. Decision justified.
2. Go punting - this will be happening on Wednesday 8th, weather permitting.
3. Learn to punt. Or at least try to learn. I have little faith that I'll actually be able to do it.
4. Swim in the Cam. (4b - not get mystery illness from swimming in the Cam. 4c - research carefully and avoid the nudist section of the Cam)
5. White Christmas (by going somewhere snowy rather than by staying in England and praying hard)
6. Build a snowman and make a snow angel.
7. Christmas in July
8. Gain admittance to as many colleges as possible without being questioned.
9. Go to a May Ball - probably too late this year but I might be able to sort it out for next year.
10. Scratch Requiem. If I can find one.
11. Go to the beach.
12. Go hiking (or strolling) in Scotland.
13. Have my first Guinness in Ireland (because now I'm so close it would be weird to have my first Guinness in England).
14. Follow the path of the Orient Express from Istanbul to Paris. It's ambitious but it's specific.
15. Visit 14 Montagu St London, near the British museum, where a dear friend left her bible when she was 19 years old - it was restored to her 30 years later by a German missionary and his wife. Good story.
16. See a footlights production.
17. Go to an opera.
18. Go to a ballet.
19. Go to a garden party.
20. Drink pimms by the river.

Add any suggestions for places to go, things to do and dares to try (bearing in kind I'm not all that daring). I'll try to get as many done as possible!

Aside - if you want to get a postcard from me, send me your address. Even if you just live up the road, I'm all about the postcards now.

*It has come to my attention that I am now treating what was going to be a blog as a series of whimsical lists. Apologies.

26

It's been a while since I did one of these, and I thought I'd better give it another shot. The idea for this particular one came when I bought peppercorns and realised I have no idea how to put them into the pepper grinder, and then connected with someone else's '21 things I learned while I was 21' blog (one of those blogs where someone comes across as high-achieving and motivated). This is not one of those, but perhaps it will make you feel better about yourself.

I consider myself fairly together as a person, but here are 26 things that I still can't do, aged 26:

1. Re-fill a pepper grinder (NB I know how to do this now because my housemate showed me - but how do you go 26 years without ever having to fill a pepper grinder?)
2. Change the oil in a car. This is a rich seam, actually, as I also can't change the water for the wipers or change the tyres or essentially do anything except put petrol in the tank, but it would be cheating to list absolutely everything I can't do with a car, except:
3. Reverse parallel park - I used to be able to but in the 7 years since I took my driving test, I have forgotten how.
4. Dive
5. Ski
6. Change the height of my bike seat (but please let me make this absolutely clear - my bike seat is currently the correct height and does not need to be changed)
7. Put darts in a dress that's too big for me
8. Tell the difference between section sewn and perfect bound books
9. Make a bed with hospital corners
10. Mow a lawn
11. Essentially, use any kind of power tool at all - is it because my mother once had an accident with a chainsaw? Or is it lack of interest? I guess we'll never know.
12. Breathe from, or with, my diaphragm when singing. Probably. How do you know if you're doing it? Is it from, or with?
13. Tell the difference between camembert and brie (I suspect there is none)
14. Use a coffee machine
15. Use a corkscrew (in all fairness I have used corkscrews several times throughout my life but I have to re-learn every time, screw caps meaning that I rarely get the practice)
16. Play 500
17. Translate pounds and ounces into kilograms and grams - this shouldn't be a problem but this stupid country is still using the old system
18. Cook fish
19.  Understand the appeal of Wes Anderson
20. Play 'Dream a little dream of me' on the ukulele - and not for want of trying
21. Play tennis - absolutely for want of trying
22. Anything to do with finance - because it's essentially imaginary numbers, and I don't trust them
23. Anything with a spreadsheet beyond basic data entry
24. Spell 'commitment' or 'amendment' without serious consideration, potentially dictionary involvement (I had to look them up just then) (I looked them up again when I read through a second time)
25. Understand preferential voting - I completely believe that it's the best system, and I have no idea how it works
26. Put a huntsman spider under a jar, slide a piece of cardboard under the huntsman spider and release the huntsman spider into the wild. I tend to approach huntsman spiders with large boots and end their lives, because the idea that the huntsman spider might continue to live in and around my garden is unbearable and the idea of sliding a piece of cardboard under the huntsman spider so that it is the only thing between me and the huntsman spider is also unbearable. I know they're not poisonous but one should always take into account the fact that they are a) terrifying and b) named 'huntsman'.

I should add a number 27 to this list - because I also can't figure out a good way to end this post. So I'll just end it here, which is pretty much in keeping with the tone of the whole thing.

On Uncertainty

One of the questions I am most frequently asked when I meet someone new is: "How long are you planning to stay in Cambridge?"

This is a perfectly legitimate question but unfortunately it's one that I can't actually answer. The answer is: 12 months; or, two years; or, somewhere in between; or, longer. In case you plan to ask the question, this is the detailed answer:

12 months is the term of my contract with Cambridge University Press, so I have actually made a commitment to live in Cambridge until at least October 11th this year.

Two years is the length of my visa; so if I'm able to stay on at the Press longer than the term of my contract, I am entitled to stay in Cambridge until October 2014.

But this is where the uncertainty comes in. If I finish out my contract and can't continue working at the Press, there is no other publishing house in Cambridge where I can work. So I might stay on, but might look for work elsewhere - plenty of publishing work in London, or I could round out the Oxbridge experience with a few months at OUP. Or I could temp in Edinburgh. But what if I'm homesick? I could just head back to Australia.

But then - what happens in Australia? I don't know if you keep your eye on publishing positions in Sydney but there are none. So do I move back to Sydney and hope? Could I end up living in Melbourne after resisting it all these years? Will I go and teach English in Japan, in a crazy turn of events that catches even me by surprise?

And what if I do stay on at the Press and have the chance to extend my stay in the UK past my original two years?

Here's the thing: I hate uncertainty. And the worst kind of uncertainty is the kind that I can't do anything about. The problem is that I can't know what will happen this October. I can't know what will happen next October, or in between. I don't know how to be practical about my current state of affairs - whether I should put down roots or be looking forward to the next thing.

Now if you're worried that I've finally lost the plot, it's ok. Most of the time I'm just enjoying myself and not worrying about the future. But these thoughts crop up now and then and there are people back home who like to know where I am with them. The plan is, I've decided that I'm going to love being where I am right now, and I'm going to love the people in my life right now and try not to think about the Octobers until they're in view. At the moment they're just a blip on the horizon - but if a mad gleam comes into my eye when you ask me what my plans are for the future . . . It's because I've just caught a glimpse of them.

Things I Miss

I just read a post by a fellow travelling Australian in which she listed all the things she loves about being overseas, followed by all the things she misses about Australia. I feel like I only ever talk about the things I love about being here (which is pretty much everything) and the things that I emphatically do not miss about Australia (bugs, hot weather, long distances).

Perhaps then it's time to acknowledge that there are one or two things that I miss about my home.

**Post-publication update: I should add that these are frivolous things I miss and that other important things like family and friends and compulsory voting I genuinely deeply miss as well**

1. The sun. Having said which, I don't really love either the sun or summer - I get burnt and I don't like being overheated. I love the winter and its potential for snow. But there is something lovely about sitting in the backyard with a cup of tea and a book, with the sun on your face, on a Saturday afternoon. I've been pretty lucky here - it hasn't rained too much and the sun has been visible a lot of the time - but the English winter sun just isn't the same.

2. Coffee. I'm sorry. I know that it's poor form to be a snob about this when the problem isn't that Australia is better, it's just the English coffee is different. Having said which, Australia is definitely better and coffee here is, in general, extremely poor. I miss knowing that every single cafe in Sydney makes a genuinely good coffee, and the only difference is between good and excellent. Costa is not a substitute for Campos.

3. Standard dancing songs. You know when you go to a wedding, or something similar, where there is a standard list of songs that everyone dances to? The list is different here and it's confusing. I'm very happy to dance like a fool if everyone else is, but there's extra fun in dancing to a song that you actually know.

4. Dairy milk chocolate. It tastes different at home. And for different, read better (however Terry's Chocolate Oranges make up for this 100 times over).

5. The metric system.

6. Living near Sydney Harbour. I never really made the most of it, but Sydney Harbour is amazing! Catching a ferry to Manly on a sunny day with a few big fluffy clouds in the sky has to be one of the most beautiful things you can do in Australia. Also living just up the road from the Bay Run was amazing.

7. Wildlife. I've actually been missing this ever since I left Adelaide, because we lived in a very wildlife-rich area. I miss driving home and worrying that a kangaroo would jump in front of me. I miss the occasional koala sighting (in the main shopping street, along the side of the highway, wherever). I miss that time I almost ran over an echidna but very importantly let's all remember that I didn't hit the echidna. I miss the sound kookaburras make, except when you're trying to sleep. I almost miss possums. But actually I don't because when they're outside your window it's like having a heavy breathing stalker outside your window and that's just creepy.

8. The way that eucalypts smell after it rains.

9. Summer dresses.

10. Not having to wear a coat.

11. Food that isn't packaged in seven layers of shrink wrap. Why can't you just buy a capsicum separately? And refer to it as a capsicum, rather than a pepper? In fact, I miss knowing what fruit and vegetables people are talking about because I can't come to grips with any of the following: satsuma, tangerine, squash, pumpkin, pepper, courgette.

And then here is a quick list of things I like: the word 'faff' or 'faffing', Terry's Chocolate Oranges (yes, I really really do like them), mail on Saturdays, regional accents, green grass, deciduous trees, Europe is right next door, cottages that have been around since before the first fleet, and lots of other things.

Culture Clash

Let's be completely honest: there isn't one. A culture clash, that is. But for some reason, people seem to keep expecting that I'll be astonished and confronted by the huge change in culture between Australia and England. Here's a hint as to why England might not be such a change of pace: the Australian language, legal system, head of state and basic form of government are all inherited from England. Also I'm an Anglophile so I suppose I'm a special case. This, however, seems to surprise people - I had someone who had just returned from living in central Asia for 15 years actually say to me, "But in some ways, it must be more of a culture clash coming from somewhere like Australia."

It's not.

However, here are some things that are different, confusing or amusing:

- "All right?" This universal greeting stumped me for weeks. Correct me if I'm wrong, Australians - but if someone said that to you, would you not interpret it as "Are you all right? I have reason to suspect that you're not, and would like to enquire further." In England, it means "Hello" and the only correct answer is "All right?" I have moved to a new level with this - the other day, I greeted someone with, "All right?" and he said "Yeah, all right, you all right?" But I had NEVER GOT THIS FAR with that particular conversation so I then became confused and couldn't finish the conversation with credit. Also when I say "All right?" it comes out either fake cockney or fake Australian. There's no good option there.
- Public school: It means a school that is publicly run. End of debate. I will not even present the alternative argument, which is rubbish.
- White-out: When asking for this in the office, blank looks will be your only response. Instead, ask for tippex.
- Sticky tape: This is referred to as 'sellotape'. As a fellow Aussie and I discussed today, this makes the Harry Potter invention 'spellotape' turn from a makey-uppy word into a pun.
- Parallel parking: Why would you EVER parallel park against the flow of traffic? It is stupid and wrong. However, when reading a British-written article about Australians and how we are over-legislated, the writer referred in particular to our quaint law that you must parallel park in the direction of traffic. But WHY would you ever do anything else? Absurd. It leads to confusion when cycling and general untidiness on the side of the road.
- Talking about the weather: All the time. I don't mind this. Everyone can talk about the weather. It truly is the one thing we all have in common (if you're talking to a person standing next to you). However, the English seem to be utterly fascinated by the weather and will talk about it in detail, and at length. A Cambridge person has tried to tell me that this is because England has particularly changeable weather. I would assert that English weather is no more changeable than Australian - however I didn't assert it out loud because it would probably amount to an insult.
- Pennies: I would suggest that these are not necessary. But to lose the 1-p and 2-p would also mean losing the joy of giving a handful of 1, 2 and 5-p coins to a shop assistant and being left with a completely empty change compartment. So on reflection: I quite like them.
- Central heating: Australia should have this.
- Total lack of bugs: Bliss.
- Accents: This isn't really a culture clash thing but I find it interesting. I've now been told by all the Australians I've spoken to that I definitely sound English. Every English person has said that I still sound completely Australian. I think that I'm now too English for Australia and too Australian for England, and that the Australians can only hear the English and English can only hear the Australian. Don't worry if you skimmed over that sentence, it wasn't my finest.

To sum up: come to England, you'll notice the difference but not like going to Mongolia.

Winter Wonderland

Have I mentioned that I like snow? If you have never heard me mention that I like snow then, well, we don't know each other very well. Because actually I don't like snow. I bloody love snow.

Here are some fun facts to begin with: On the day that Sydney had its highest ever recorded temperature, the BBC was reporting a temperature of -6 degrees in Cambridge at 7am. That morning, I walked to work because my bike was being serviced. Walking over the bridge towards Jesus Green and Midsummer Common, as the sun rises in a clear, cold sky and mist rises from the fields, slightly obscuring the colleges and churches off in the distance - bliss.

Knowing that it was forecast to snow the following day: EVEN MORE BLISS.

I'll admit that the snow was just average on Friday and Saturday, an icing sugar dusting that made the houses and trees look picturesque, without actually settling properly on the ground. While this is pretty and fun, it's not thrilling and exciting.

But Sunday was my designated Snow Day. First, I had to walk to the station to pick up my bike. As I walked, the snow turned from small specks of white, to slightly larger flakes, to proper snow flakes that were beginning to settle and stick. As I headed back into town, I had to walk my bike to avoid being blinded by flakes in the eye. (Surprisingly hurty, actually)

I then met three friends and we spent an hour walking through the colleges and around the grounds, which were by now properly covered in snow - the kind of snow that crunches under your feet as you walk, and actually deserves the label 'Winter Wonderland'. There wasn't enough snow to build a snowman. Or, there was. But it was on the grass. And even when it's snowing and you can't see the grass, one still Keeps Off The Grass. (I do wish I had made a snow angel on the grass, but suspect I might be tarred and feathered and run out of town) We made a small snow cat on the edge of a bridge over the Cam, as we watched some particularly game tourists being punted.

I then went to church, and on leaving church found that my bike was half-buried in snow (inconvenient? Yes - but excellent? Also yes). On Sunday evening, I had dinner at a church friend's house with a whole lot of other people, which was lovely. As we were all getting ready to leave at a civilised hour, the thought suddenly occurred to some of us that this was the perfect time for a snow fight.

On hour later, completely covered in snow (including inside my jacket, wet gloves, wet hair) and having taken about 20 snow balls to the face and really not having hit anyone because I throw like a girl, I headed home, a happy traveller and completely at peace with the world. (We also made snowman heads because the snow wasn't sticky enough to roll into a snowman body where we were, and if you just make a head you can pretend the rest of the snowman is buried up to its neck)

All this is a very long-winded way of saying, snow is lovely. It makes everything look completely different. It makes the world feel hushed and special (partly because the schools were closed yesterday so there was no traffic on the roads) It even makes the streetlights look different - more mellow or something. It makes it feel like a Christmas movie.

Of course, it was -7 degrees last night and now all the snow and snowy sludge has turned to ice and the roads are slippery and treacherous and it's starting to lose the new-snow special-ness and just be dangerous and mundane. But there's still something magic about trees laden with snow, even as it's melting and sliding off the branches.

I think for my birthday this year I would like it to snow again lots and then I would like to make a snow angel and a snowman and go for a walk in the snow. So if you were thinking of me on my birthday, instead of emailing or calling or sending me a card, maybe just say a little prayer for the right atmospheric conditions to prevail on January 29th.