Sports-mad

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It’s been a crazy wee week… I think we must have gone into every single women’s clothes shop in Edinburgh to find me something to wear for a wedding on Saturday. Fortunately, it’s not my own, so I can afford to look a little less than perfect (ha! like I ever could…). But all the same, when photos have to last as long as the marriage, you don’t want to look like a gimp in someone else’s album…

On the not-so-girly front, I think I chose the best week to come home. There’s been footie (yay Scotland, silly England) and cricket. OMG the cricket! I missed it so, so much… And although it’s great to watch the Ashes on telly, and not have to wake up at 3am, LA time, to catch the start of the day’s play, I feel like I’m missing something… I think it’s that feeling of despair. For once, although I’m still apprehensive about England’s chances of winning outright, I don’t have the “Oh well, we’ll never be as good as the Aussies” thought constantly nagging me. It’s a pleasant sensation indeed.

I reckon it’s going to be down to the Hoggy-baby, Freddie and Harmy trio versus the Warne, Lee, McGrath trinity. Whatever they say about the Oval, this is going to be a bowler’s test…

Come on England!

Back in Embra

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Cheviots
Originally uploaded by framboise.

For a wee visit, then off to Elgin, Rouen, Paris and back to LA. Never have I travelled so much in such a short space. I’ve neglected my duty as a circadian biologist, failing to collect blood samples to measure my cortisol levels (which are probably at a constant high at the moment).

Something that struck me on the flight back was the sudden surge in cricket commentators in the newspapers. Suddenly, everyone’s an expert on the Ashes. And nobody looks at me in a funny way when I talk about England’s all-new bowling prowess. Hey guys, where were you in the slim years? Hope you all stay the course, ’cause following British teams ain’t for the faint-hearted. Look at Scotland’s rugby and football teams: heartbreakers all (OK, tonight’s result was a bit of a fluke). And England’s aren’t any better either, what with a seriously demoralised post-World Cup rugby team, and an inconsistent football team that could not beat Northern Ireland (good on them, btw). And now the cricket… Please Vaughn and gang, I don’t want to be left sobbing after yet another close call.

But should you guys succeed… Well, you deserve:
Tricolour

1st BBQ in La-La Land

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The crazy month that was August is nearly over. Thank goodness for that. I don’t think I crawled into bed any earlier than 1am for over a month.

Being totally worn out from the constant partying, I lost all sense of reason and invited my entire lab to my first LA BBQ. Technically, it’s the 3rd (see soon to-be-uploaded Flickr shots of the 2nd), but it’s the first in my new apartment. Being the host and chef, I failed to take ANY photos, and also later found out that everyone else was too drunk to take any either. Which is a shame. I put a fair amount of effort into marinating pounds and pounds of flesh (purchased from Trader Joe’s thanks to Santos’ tip): baby back ribs in pineapple juice/ketchup/soya sauce/maple syrup marinade, tri-tip huge-chunk-of-beef in a pseudo-Korean/soya sauce/sesame oil/green onion/garlic/sesame seed marinade, chicken yakitori, chicken/papaya/peppers/pineapple kebabs marinated in coconut milk/pineapple juice/ginger/garlic/soya sauce and chicken drumsticks in miso paste and sesame seeds. And for afters: bananas BBQed in their own skins and served either with squares of Maya Gold (lightly spiced chocolate by G&B) or a Nutella-like spread, slices of fresh pineapple, rum and brown sugar, wrapped in foil and warmed on the pit, and figs with a knob of butter and sprinkling of sugar. I could really kick myself for not appointing a designated photographer. Which is kinda ironic given that I invited my photographer neighbour… C’est la vie.

A good time was had by all, what with mojitos, bottles of Ca’ del Solo rosé (a personal favourite for taste, price and sentimental reasons), and several good bottles of hefty reds being consumed by 10 over the course of 5 hours. And how could I forget to mention the absolute pepper vodka? Foul stuff; harsh and an appetite killer. I’m not tempted to try any of the other flavoured vodkas of the same make. They don’t quite compare to a very pleasant bison-grass flavoured vodka we tried in a Polish restaurant in Santa Monica (Warszawa?).

Since I can’t upload any shots of the food I cooked, here’s a gratuitous shot of a scrummy salad crafted by the Monsieur Marcel café at the Third and Fairfax farmer’s market:

Salad Tahitienne

Sad person that I am, I bought a small jar of Marmite.

Mandelson’s textiles U-turn

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From the Guardian: Mandelson’s textiles U-turn

Honestly! “Rationing”? When did clothes become one of life’s essentials? And if we’re talking about clothes from China, 1. they’ve probably been made by poorly paid, badly treated workers, and 2. they’re probably more tat that we would do well to stop buying.

Who’s been twisting Mandy’s arm anyway?

England triumph in Women’s Ashes

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This is brilliant. English women’s sports teams seem to be doing better and better these days. Although they didn’t get far enough in the Women’s European Championships (footie), they certainly upped the profile of the women’s game. Perhaps this Ashes victory will inspire more girls to play cricket in school. I wish I had the option back then… We played bloody netball (sucked at that), basketball (too damn short for that), softball (yawn…), volleyball (ouch, my wrists!), athletics (double yawn) and various racquet-and-ball games. While it got us out in the open and physically active, none of these school-sponsered sports fired my imgaination, nor gave me a sport for life. Should have been cricket. Or maybe rugby… (Still too damn short, but I’d make a decent prop for my height/weight… Be useless at line-outs though.)

Oh. The men ain’t doing too bad either. As evidenced by my total lack of sleep last night, what with BBC’s TMS playing on the laptop, waking me with every wicket!