Incredible growing baby

OK, it may not be incredible that a baby is growing. I guess really that's what said baby is supposed to be doing, what with all that feeding and sleeping. But still -- it seems pretty amazing that just on milk Paige can nearly double in size in 10 weeks. As of today, she's 5.05 kg (or 11 lb 2 oz for you imperialists)

To see what almost doubling in size looks like -- the picture on the left is at about 2 weeks; on the right is today...

Same great taste??

Starbucks selling instant coffee?? What the??? If it's as good as Starbucks, then why buy the real stuff. And if it's not, how can it possible help the company to sell an inferior product?

Howie, Howie, Howie... how can this be restoring Starbucks to its original glory?

Reading list

I finally got around to reading the December 2005 (eek - I'm a little behind) issue of the Swarthmore Bulletin, and found an article about the 'Essential Reading' for every Swarthmore student... Looks like I need to go back -- 4 years at Swat and I only managed 3 from the list. (Pride & Prejudice, Lord of the Rings, and Stephen Jay Gould's Burgess Shale, in case anyone's wondering...)

Pinksplosion

When did it become impossible to buy baby girl clothes in anything but pink?? I don't remember what I wore as a baby (er, what I was dressed in) but I've certainly seen pictures of little-girl me, in all shades of orange, yellow, greens (well - it was the 70's, after all). I even remember a red plaid pant suit. But no pink.

But today - that's all there is... As you can see in this photo of all the clothes we've bought/received for Paige so far... aside from a little beige and white -- it's pink, pink and more pink.

A few recent articles have been highlighting this, thanks to PR efforts around the book Toxic Childhood. I especially like the nugget from the BBC that pink used to be for boys because it is 'a more decided and stronger colour'. Is pink inherently bad? No, of course not. And if you truly like pink, hey, great, go for it. But how boring is a world where 50% of the population is marked out by one and only one colour? What happened to variety?

And of course, as a non- girly-girl myself... why does it have to be pink?

Books into art

If I could afford real, proper, grown-up art, this is the sort of thing I'd buy. Su Blackwell turns books into intricately cut paper sculptures -- unlike anything I've seen. A few of her pieces were displayed at the V&A recently as part of their Blood on Paper exhibit. V&A? Books? Books as modern art?? My kind of trifecta!

Public transport travails

Finally took Paige on public transport yesterday -- tube and bus -- and must say, it takes military planning. Not only are you faced with the normal baby-related stuff (pack enough nappies, possible change of clothes, when/where will you be able to feed, etc...) but you also need to consider which stations (if any) are stroller-accessible.

You'd think in this age of disability-awareness, all would be (if a station is wheelchair accessible, then it's buggy-friendly as well) but no such luck. So to get to the hospital for her appointment, I needed to change lines just to make sure that when I got to Earl's Court station, I was on the line that has the lift (Piccadilly), not the one with the stairs (District.).

And according to this news release, only about a sixth of the tube stations are accessible - and they're on track to have 1/4 accessible by 2010. That's ridiculous! And looking at the map, most of the accessible stops are suburban -- making any central London visits a challenge at best.

Hmm... I wonder what other big-city subway accessibility is like... And in the meantime, buses are definitely the way to go.

Merry Christmas!!

O'bama

Caught this song on tv this morning -- a little late, but made me laugh!

First outing

It took us 8 days, but we've finally made it out of the house. (to be fair, the first few days we were in the hospital, so that doesn't count).

Yep, it was time to leave the cozy home nest, and venture into the big bad world. Or perhaps not so bad -- fittingly enough for a baby with at least a little Seattle in her blood, where else could we make our first stroll but to Starbucks. Double tall skinny wet latte please. Er, and one for mom as well.

No, no, no -- but in time, it will be babycinos all around!

*ps -- the pram is actually red, but this picture was taken with my not-so-great camera phone

Statistics gone mad...

Amusing Frank Deford piece on stupidest statistics on NPR. Well, I guess they need to find something to put on the Jumbotron...

Baby classes

We had our first NCT class this Saturday. 5 sessions with other local first-time parents, trying to give us a better idea of what to expect for the birth... and beyond, for when you take this strange little creature home and have to look after it. Eek.

Five weeks to go, though (if all goes according to schedule) and we're slowly getting organised. We've got the car seat - thanks Cat! - and a crib - thanks Jon & Julie! - and even a rocking chair. And I think the baby monitor is powerful enough to stretch to the pub next door (thanks Margot!) And thanks to the fabulous shower 2 weeks ago, complete with suprise appearance (thanks Mom!) we've got books, toys, clothes, and an heirloom-to-be handmade blanket (thanks thanks thanks Stephanie!). Just a few more practicalities and we'll be set. Then it's just sit back and wait time. And wait. And wait!

Stitchery Show

After an incredibly busy couple of weeks, it was great to be able to take off Friday and make my semi-annual pilgrimage to the Twisted Thread Knitting and Stitching Show. And to shake things up a bit, I decided to go all the way to Harrogate for this autumn's show (well, because I missed the recent London one, thanks to our lovely trip to Portugal).

While I'm not sure I'd make the 8+ hour round trip again just for the show, I will say it was a pretty good one. It seemed to have a much broader spread of needle crafts than the London shows -- though still had my favourite, Michael Powell and others I like, including Nutmeg (those 3d kits are tricky, but look fantastic).

To give my feet a rest, I also took in a workshop -- and now have a slightly better idea of how to do a patchwork quilt, however 1 hour was not *quite* enough to finish a project, even the small one the teacher started us off with. I must must must complete it at home soon - or risk a) forgetting how and b) adding yet another item to my unfinished projects file!

The most impressive part of the show -- like every year -- was the textile art exhibition -- so so so inspirational. Where do they get their ideas?!

My favourites this year? Roy and Barbara Hirst retrospective -- who do absolutely amazing stump work (also called, I learned, raised embroidery). Unfortunately I didn't have my cameras, so no photos. So meticulous.

I also enjoyed a more modern artist, Claire Moynihan, and her witty 'Moth Balls'. I don't know why, but they just grabbed my attention. Clever, beautiful, intricate -- just the sort of thing I'd love to come up with one day... when of course I begin my new career as an international textile artist. Hmm...

Baby on board

Probably the worst thing about being pregnant and working in London is the public transport commute. For some reason (British reserve? Yes, I know I'm not actually British, but I've been here long enough to acquire some local habits) I just cannot bring myself to ask for a seat. And yet, on a crowded tube, after a long day at work, that's what I want more than anything.

That same British reserve, however, is what stops people from offering seats I think. "Hmm... is she pregnant? Or just fat? I wouldn't want to insult her... so I just won't say anything at all." So I stand, and sigh, and stick my belly out to make it look more pregnant-y, not just wobbly over-eating-y. And I've even taken to wearing this somewhat embarrassing Baby on Board pin Transport for London gives out to help my case.

Of course, for any of these tactics to work, I need to at least be standing somewhere near a seat, rather than in the crush near the door. In addition, fellow passengers need to actually be looking around, rather than the usual state of eyes-in-book/paper/magazine or vacantly looking nowhere in particular.

So, I stand for a few stops, and usually manage to nab a seat at some point in the journey when something opens up. Occasionally, though, the offer does come, and is gratefully accepted. Perhaps not surprisingly, it's pretty much almost women, and usually at least 30+ I'd guess. There are still a few months left for men and yoof to prove themselves, however, so we'll see how things go until December.

But I'll certainly be standing for any pregnant women I see in the future -- er, after I'm no longer one of them, that is!

Vote Barack!

I cannot possibly keep track of all the Obama songs and videos on YouTube... but do like this one!

Sports team name puzzle

Thanks NPR for another enjoyable Sunday challenge. I only say enjoyable because it's one I managed to solve!

""Nonclassical analysis" contains eight different letters. Two of them occur once, two of them occur twice, two of them occur three times, and two of them occur four times each. Which sports team's name has this same property?"

Answers on a card, please, by Thursday 3pm. Or submit online -- you've just got to be near a phone at 3pm Thursday Eastern time.

Tiny bubbles...

I'm not sure if I should tsk-tsk or applaud the work of 'Mr Bubbles' -- who recently turned the Trafalgar Square fountains into a massive bubble bath. Ok, yes, it probably cost a little to clean it up, but it looks like it was relatively safe material (household detergents, etc), and I'm sure that if I had just happened to be walking by and saw a foamy fountain, it would've brought a smile to my face.

More Portugal photos...

Online at Flickr -- I know there should be some way to embed them here, but too tired to figure it out. Also I'm not sure why, when my photos were in order when I uploaded them, they're now all over the place... so the chronology is a bit off -- but hey, we were only there for 3 days, so it shouldn't be that confusing!

Quite interesting encounter

So, a couple weeks ago, I wandered into Stanfords, the amazing travel bookstore in Covent Garden, on the lookout for a suitable guidebook to the Algarve.

Culinary-suggestion-filled Top 10 Guide in hand, I wandered to the check out to pay for my purchase, when I realised the store seemed a bit more crowded than usual, even for a sunny Saturday afternoon. And then I realised the crowd wasn't milling about or shopping. No, they were standing. And looking. And taking pictures. All in the direction of a single man, at a desk, signing books.

Who? What? Could it be? None other than my ultimate dream dinner party guest, the erudite, self-deprecatingly pompous but never annoyingly arrogant, current QI and former Bafta presenter, raconteur, comic actor, dork, and all around national treasure that is Stephen Fry. Ok Mom, maybe not Prince William for celeb-ness, but between the two, I know who I'd rather have a real conversation with.

I promptly grabbed his most recent book, jumped in the queue, and agonised during the 25 minute wait over something suitably witty to say in my 15 second encounter. Aaaagh, the pressure. One of the assistants manning the line gave me a Post-It note on which I was to write any personalisation I requested. Double aaack! How could I possibly presume to put words in the pen of one of my idols?

But presume I did, and as I finally got to his side, I handed over the book -- a photo-heavy travelogue of his journey around all 50 US States in a black cab, companion piece to his current BBC show. And my Post-it, full of scribbles and re-writes, finally saying simply: "To Ashley & Stefanie: All 50 states, catch me if you can."

And I told him about our family state 'contest', and mumbled I felt silly telling him of all people what to write. But he was gracious despite his hours of signing (I was one of the last to go), and asked me what state I was from (probably only the 500th person he'd asked that of, as there appeared to be an American-heavy bias to the crowd), and even remarked on the spelling of my name, to ensure he got it correct.

Sadly our conversation ended there, just as we were about to become bosom buddies, and I went away smiling and clutching my prize.

I wonder if would accept my Facebook friend request? I'm sure he'd remember me -- y'know -- Stefanie-with-an-f...

PlanetWulfagar and the quest for arroz do polvo

Before heading to Portugal for a lovely long weekend (or 'babymoon', according to my brother), I found myself wondering if there were any dishes particular to Portugal. I mean, I've heard of the custard pastries in Lisbon, but main meals? Y'know, like Spain has its paella and tapas?

Fortunately I had the Top 10 Guide to the Algarve to tell me. Turns out one of the specialities of this southern coastal region is arroz do polvo -- "a regional speciality which evokes the Algarve's love affair with the sea". In other words, a bubbling stew of octopus and rice, in a garlicky tomato-y broth. And so with reading, the quest began.

And yes, in our long weekend in the eastern town of Tavira, we had sunning by the pool, wanders through a traditional market a short train ride away in Olhao, snooping round the old run down castelo (no more than walls and a garden - not exactly Edinburgh Castle, but a great view), reading, napping, and walks along the shore... but we knew the weekend woldn't be complete without that polvo!

And so on our first night, we headed to the seafront, ordered our treat at a little local spot and... were told about 10 minutes later, after munching on bread and wine, it was no go, they were all out of the popular dish. That's ok, plenty of time left. And the grilled chicken was finger lickin' good.

Friday night - take 2. A more upscale restaurant this time. And unfortunately, a little too upscale for this more peasanty fare. D'oh! (But had some yummy black pork loin... I mean, I had to eat)

Saturday, last day -- taking no chances, we opted for ordering it at lunch, at restaurant number 3, confirming it was on the menu as we entered. Or so we thought. But -- noooooo -- after placing our order we were informed that in fact the octopus wasn't fresh enough, and we wouldn't be happy. Foiled again! (Though did get to try out speciality number two, cataplana, a different sort of 'succulent seafood delight', thanks for the recommendation, Top 10)

However, as I think someone somewhere said, good things come to those who wait (and someone else said, 'an-ti-ci-pay-ay-tion'), and so we were to be rewarded in our very own last supper (of our trip at least). Back at restaurant number 1, Jaoa de Belhi... success! And definitely worth the wait.




So, great trip, great sights, and great food. And little Stashley's country count and culinary adventures continue to grow!

Where has the time gone??

Things have been manic, and I've got SOOOO much I want to write about - cricketastic weekends, including one more tea, and the annual quiz; my latest crafty girl project; how little Stashley is coming along (very nicely thank you); my recent London celebrity encounter... oh I could go on & on!

Unfortunately, I'll have to keep my extensive base of loyal readers in suspense just a leeeetle bit longer -- as I'm off to Portugal early tomorrow morning for a little sunshine and relaxation. And to generate even more adventures to not have time to write about!