First Days of School

Well France was nice and hot. The wine was lovely too. Now back to England for some rain. It always rains when I go to Cambridge, as I will be tomorrow. Or snows. I think the rain is a weird pathetic fallacy for my tears after my painful rejection where they wouldn't even take a second look at me. I doubt they had a first to be honest. I still plan to laminate a copy of my graduation certificate and highlight the part that says MRCVS after my name and post it the Dean of St Katherine's. Take that you pompous fools.

In other news, my little sister started secondary school today. Very odd. We stood around at 8am this morning to have a photo of her all dressed up in her new school uniform (slightly to long in the sleeve) and smiling with her eyes a tiny bit watery (she had 'something in them'). And off she went on the bus like a little trooper, armed with a packed lunch and a German Dictionary. Go tiny one, go. Do us all proud.

And now I sit waiting for her return writing this. It seems like an age since I went to that school, and sorting through some old photos to put in an album yesterday made it seem even further away. Even so, I made some brilliant life long friends who are all living fantastically interesting lives, some even on the other side of the world - well done guys, you aced it! I very much hope she looks back on her school days as fondly as I do.

Oh, I got some little tea and coffee canisters with bees on this morning and they are the most exciting part of my day. I think I need to go back to the books and the stress and the animal insides before I go totally crazy cat lady.

Cupcakes!

A small experiment as I try to use up all of the eggs in the fridge before holibobs. I reveal to you...


LEMON MERINGUE CUPCAKES.

I can confirm that they are quite tasty. And I do believe that Mary Berry would say that they 'have a nice crumb'. All they are is a normal sponge mix with a teaspoon full of lemon curd in the centre, topped with a simple meringue for icing. I used the Primrose Bakery recipe for Mini Meringue Cupcakes and modified it slightly to accommodate the leftover lemon curd from Hugh Fearnley's River Cottage Lemon Curd Muffins. I was quite disappointed making these as they didn't rise as well as I expected - must have been me though, Hugh made beautiful versions on River Cottage.

GO HUGH!
GO PRIMROSE BAKERY!
POWER TO THE BAKERS!

Festivals.

I have just read an article about the lack of atmosphere and kindness and general wonderful greatness at V Festival.

And I have to say that I agree.

I visited last year mainly to see the Killers and Frank Turner. It was okay; I saw the bands I wanted to see and had a good time, but I couldn't help but feel that there was something missing all the time I was there. I have thought about it for a while and I think the missing link in the festival chain could be passion. I didn't feel like anyone around me felt as passionately about Frank singing his bold lungs out, or as amazed at the longevity and hip shaking of Tom Jones. I felt like they just didn't care. They were far more interested in when Nicki Minaj would be space beaming her shiny, sparkling arse onto the stage and how short the bar queue was. This was especially clear when one girl next to me in a crowd uttered, 'I'm not sure who Frank Turner is; I think he might be crap.' It saddened me that she wouldn't even give this guy a chance, he was just crap because he didn't have a drum and bass backing track and he sang more about life and politics than banging some girl in a club. To me, a music festival is about discovering things you never would have seen or heard had you not have been present in that little piece of field in that exact nanosecond of a moment. Discovering that band that changes how you think about a genre of music, or finding that singer-songwriter that you fall in love with and follow faithfully and tirelessly to for the next fifty years of your life, or just rocking out to an awesome headline set, such as Foals at Latitude this year. That's what a music festival is about; not the Hunter wellies or the neon make-up or the tiny little hotpants (on a side note, why do you think I want to see the bottom flab of your bum cheek poking its sweaty head out of your shorts?).  And I feel ashamed that all festival companies are letting these unimportant niggles take the main stage, not the beauty and diversity of the UK music scene. And it is all of them - even at Latitude we had some twatty sixteen-year-old yobs trying to set fire to our tent. Although, I must add here that Latitude is still one of the most home grown feeling 'mainstream' festivals in my opinion. There is a real rustic sense of beauty and respect for the arts as a whole in all its wonderful shapes and forms.

I believe some of the issue is that the festival bosses have realised that they can make a lorry tonnes of money from these kind of soulless and moronic shows and that's exactly what they want. Human nature is greedy and it is something that impedes us in everything we do, whether that be politics, governments, our everyday lives or just a simple piece of music playing in a field.

So, come on Festival Republic, you are better than this. Stop trying to top the profits every year to pay your executives extortionate amounts of money and give us some honest music in an honest, muddy and overall kind atmosphere.

So here we are.

Last AHEMS placement. Its been a long haul for the last two years but here but finally an true end to the never ending stream of poo scooping. Anyway, horses are fun. Way more fun than I expected. However, I have learnt to not trust any of them ever. Never ever. In other news the pony club need to chill out, I won't rant because I have just calmed down and I would hate to get all worked up again. At least everyone I work with is awesome, which is always encouraging. I actually feel confident with horses, even the naughty ones which is somewhere I never thought I'd end up. I need to find a nice cake to make to say thank you for my immense tutoring in the ways of the equine species. Honestly, I am beaming about actually feeling like I can handle a horse properly and keep everyone safe. AWESOME.

So chocolate cakes? Yes. Omnomnom.

CAKE.

YUM YUM YUM. They might not have become tiny erupting volcanoes of delicious sunshine, but they are very tasty. Not that I've already had one or anything...

They have stuck to the cases a bit actually. Not sure why. Anyway, eventually I will do this IAS dissection poster. I'm just going to watch House and then have a cup of tea. Then I will start.

Life now.

Okay. So I said I'd keep this thing up but it hasn't been too successful since January and that post in which I said I would keep up with this. A short run down of my life in the meantime:

Learning about stuff, lambs, tiredness, drinking, shooting, learning about stuff, drinking, exams, drinking, Yorkshire, drinking, fringe, summer, Latitude Festival, drinking, sleeping, some working and sorts, now.

Basically that's it in a nutshell. And I got a fringe. Anyway, yet again in my stupid life I have failed to secure employment. Now, I know this is because I'm not around for long at the summer and I have placements and stuff but I am not an idiot and quite capable of using a cash register. 23 job applications and I end up with 2 days in Next. Well done me. So now, my only source of income is to sell ALL OF MY THINGS on ASOS Marketplace. However, no one wants to buy my things as they are crap. I thought about a mild adventure into cupcake orders but I realised you needed hygiene certificates for your house or something so maybe not. But my cakes are still beautiful and delicious even if I do say so myself. Really, I'd like to get paid for placements in an ideal world. Then I might be able to eat actual nice food and not just Sainsbury's basics. Also, if I could make some money doing some music journalism, that would be perfect. If you have an tip-offs, do let me know.

In other news, I am on a total Hugh Fearnley-Wittingstall and Don't Tell The Bride binge. Bit weird, but I am unemployed and I feel I should use my time well; learning how to make wives angry and how to forage for earthy tasting mushrooms.

I am going to embark on lemon curd muffins. I may post a photo if they look like tiny lemony volcanoes of deliciousness. I would like to make some Earl Grey cupcakes with a beautiful swirl of icing and silver glitter but alas; mother hates Earl Grey. Nevermind.

This is how we do it...

Well, this week has been fun. I really love catching up with people after Christmas an having a good get together. Maybe I might have been a bit too caught up in the joviality of the New Year and our renewed vigour for the drinking holes of London, as I seem to have spent most of the day with my head in a textbook (by with I mean frantically searching Wikivet), trying to keep my head just enough above the water to avoid being dragged away in the passing Virology tide.

Saturday was an interesting one. "Fancy being in a Foals video tomorrow?" said Amber. "Yeah, why the hell not", I reply. An interesting affair; come in black and white and be ready to dance, so I couldn't really say no! The swigs of Jack Daniels undoubtedly kept us going, even through a rather messy circle pit but fun was had by all. Found another amazing little pizzeria gem in Islington too. Lovely.

Listened to several good podcasts this week, not to mention the discovery of Radio 4s Infinite Monkey Cage. Science can be fun they say! Still, I really do find Brian Cox dull.

Another week down; birthday celebrations and cakes, too much chocolate, two trips to McDonald's, a lost favourite biro, singing about haemagluttin and a few whiskeys too many. But at least I know the difference between a sylvatic cycle and an urban one.