Absentee Blogging

In the craziness of two little boys, and freelance history-ing, and weekly 5ks, and the occasional pause for a deep breath, a chapter of a book, and a mocha coconut frappucino, this poor little blog has become neglected. Blog Protection Services should be making weekly visits to my laptop to ensure it doesn't suffer from benign neglect. Of course, they'd probably be the same sort of organization that took away your terrarium and potted succulents if you were talented enough to kill the things in them. Put you on crafting probation if your dip-dyed curtains were a hot mess. Freeze your accounts after another Etsy rampage.

But none of that for me! I've been Tweeting (the refuge of the blogger too busy to blog, but too convinced of their own wit not to share their quips with the internet) in between all the work and cleaning and running and baby-keeping-alive. I'll share those and frightening photographic evidence of just how much my sons have grown since last I kept a regular schedule of blog posts. Seriously, though: how has it been so long!?

Top row: Tristan
Second row: Ethan
Third row: Ethan, boys sharing pound cake, boys at National Trust site, Tristan
Fourth row: Brand new brothers, slightly less new brothers, sunglasses, and finger chewing

Sometimes the best part of the work day is when the commute lasts long enough to catch David Sedaris on Radio4. #workingmum
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) August 19, 2014

Curly hair is back after doing #MNDIceBucketChallenge earlier! pic.twitter.com/W2KKllsZyO
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) August 20, 2014

Mildly disturbed that the other day at work I un-ironically did the @jimmyfallon @jtimberlake hashtag hand-sign when teaching about Twitter.
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) August 21, 2014

Golly. Every day leaving work so far! @SoVeryBritish RT: The horror: "Goodbye... Oh, you're also leaving in this direction..."
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) August 25, 2014

Motherhood win-failing: went to get the 8-mo-old up from his nap to find he'd been sleeping under dirty dishes from breakfast. #dontask
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) August 27, 2014

Today's latest weird phobia? [As I take cinnamon bun dough from the bread-maker] Toddler: I think I don't want to be scared, Mummy. #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) September 1, 2014

"Hello, best friend. We should do hugging and be happy." I love that this is how my 3-yr-old greets random kids at the library. #mumlife
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) September 3, 2014

Not sure which has me more stressed this morning: waiting on late work emails for tomorrow or trying to whip egg whites into stiff peaks.
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) September 16, 2014

Sign you've watched too much kids' TV with your sons? Yelling at the TV when the presenter consistently mispronounces the word "penguin".
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) September 18, 2014

Pretty sure that lady on the Tube yesterday thought I was insane when weeping w/laughter over an episode of Meet David Sedaris...
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) September 18, 2014

We're working on our smiley faces for pictures. I've got another cheese ball on my hands. http://t.co/9SyCn4vPUD
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) September 19, 2014

My sister is now sending me work haikus... Organize receipts For paper gods in Accounts Oh shit--one's missing
— Bryony Dick (@beginningbryony) September 19, 2014

Work has been brilliant. Who knew you could do the whole historian gig as a freelancer? Well, as a stroke of luck would have it: you can! So I've spent a few weeks going to east London to teach workshops on archives, genealogical research, and WWI. I fully admit to feeling all grown up (thus negating any true semblance of adulthood) when all the little tweens called me "Miss" the other day as they excitedly shouted over each other in a desperate bid to show me the results of their research. You have not enjoyed teaching until you honestly hear a 12-year-old give a disappointed sigh at the end of class only to announce, "Now I'll have to look up Hitler at home..."

Also, I've read some lovely books lately, which I must gush over in more detail. Consider the Fork is the all-around winner, though The Little Coffee Shop of Kabul was fun, if chic-lit-like, and The Girl Who Saved the King of Sweden was hilariously sympathetic.

Some day, I will manage to do all of these things with greater balance. I will schedule longer runs, I'll bake with Ethan, and get Tristan to sit through more than one book at bedtime. Perhaps more freelance projects will come along, and maybe - just maybe - I'll even get to have a date night with the Husband! Hey: a girl can dream...

Vicarious Tourism: Bodiam and Scotney Castles

For the Bank Holiday weekend, the Husband and I decided it would be a nice idea to take advantage of our extra time together to go do something as a family. So out came the National Trust memberships and we drove over to Kent for a trip around a few castles.

Bodiam Castle, finished in 1385, is a proper, square, moat-surrounded castle; complete with crenelated towers, loopholes, murder holes, a portculis, and thigh-achingly steep staircases. Seriously people; my legs were shaking for a solid ten minutes after the second tower.

Looking at the ducks...and trying to recreate a similar picture
of me and my dad.

Bodiam across the moat.

The day - as you may or may not be able to tell - was completely overcast and featured the occasional torrential downpour. To be honest, the closer we got, the more I was regretting not postponing the trip until Monday. In the end, though, we were able to stay fairly dry throughout the day and still had a lovely time out together - inclement weather not withstanding.

My handsome boys!

In fact, in the end, the thin cloud cover of the day actually made our photos turn out brilliantly! I couldn't have been happier with the results of what was natural diffuse lighting...if only it didn't also mean my hair was starting to shrivel up and go 'poof!' as well.

After Bodiam, we decided to continue making the most of our 4-hour round trip by visiting the nearby Scotney Castle. Scotney isn't so much a castle as a 19th-Century stately home...but one built from the most Romantic-looking medieval-to-Elizabethan hodgepodge of a home I've ever seen. Seriously. If nothing else, I would have wanted to come back in nicer weather for some professional family photos. The setting of this place was idyllic.

Indulging my love of hydrangeas.

The 'Old Castle' which stands on the property just downhill of the main house.

Ethan was in love with everything. He clambered up the stairs; he shrieked and shouted and cackled maniacally; he wandered around pointing out any wildlife from ducks to bees with great enthusiasm.

Oh yes, and he also growled for the camera.

Aside from a few flash-monsoons on the drive home and a slightly cranky baby, we really couldn't have asked for a better day out. The weather didn't hold us back in the least, and everyone enjoyed the chance to stretch their legs amongst some new scenery. We adults certainly felt satisfied that we'd spent our time well for the weekend. Especially when we rounded off the whole day with pizza on the couch, in our pyjamas, after chatting to my family.

Moral of the story? No day is a bad day to go and see a castle.

A Place to Begin

Another Friday, another chance to recap the week in interesting pictures, videos, and articles. In between enjoying the year's first real sunshine here in England, I've been spending some time having fun on the Interwebs. Here are the highlights of what I've seen this week:

Dove Real Beauty Sketches. Whatever you want to say about Dove using this to sell a product they tell you will make you look/feel better about yourself, I think this does bring up a good point. We are generally our own worst critics. I wonder how negatively I would have described myself? That said, this critique of the ad raises a very fair point as well: our outer beauty shouldn't be so narrowly defined or make up a disproportionate amount of our self-worth. (Thanks to my cousin, Jen, for that second link!)

Wallpaper Wednesday at Love Chic Living. Looking for a fun new wallpaper for that room you've been meaning to redecorate? Or just want some more Pinterest fodder for that dream house you'll one day DIY to death? I high recommend taking a look at Love Chic Living's Wallpaper Wednesday column: she manages to hunt down some amazing finds. From the gorgeous and classic to the artsy or absolutely out-there, I haven't seen anything run-of-the-mill yet!

YHL's Ten Tips for Smoother Travel
I love John and Sherry at Young House Love for lots of things, but as someone who's seen her fair share of planes, I have to agree with their tips for airline travel. It's all practical stuff to think about if you're travelling a lot. Also, it makes me think of my sister's post on airports she's known. I think I could easily write a companion post to that.

via, Waterstones

Marillenbaum's review of Life After Life
Speaking of my sister, go read her review of this book...like, now. And then, go read the book, too, because it sounds awesome. Also, I'd suggest that you cry because you'll never write about another person's book as well as she did. I substituted the crying for some expletive-filled praise, and I think it worked just as well.

via, Swiss-Miss

The Mountain Range pillow. From Three Bad Seeds, on Etsy, for those cute outdoor spaces, populated with Adirondack chairs and plaid flannel blankets that are just asking for that little something extra. (I now not only want this pillow, but to fulfill my dream of a plaid-blanketed Adirondack chair!)

A Gift Stash. The lovely blog You Are My Fave has such cute ideas: and this one is practical to boot. Though I don't know that I wouldn't snag Fantastic Mr. Fox and that game of Bananagrams for myself...

This ASOS midi skirt with pockets looks so stupidly fun to wear. I even have the 3/4-sleeve striped shirt to pair with it. I'm a sucker for dresses and skirts with pockets. It means I don't have to carry a purse just to keep my mobile phone and Burt's Bees on me! (Seriously; aside from the occasion bits of change, tissue, or E's binky, that's all I ever have in my pockets.)

Boyish, manly, well-drawn, hilarious, and occasionally wildly inappropriate. That's what I love about the prints in Sharp Writer's Epic Art Store on Etsy. My personal favourite? Bill Clinton The Lady Killer. It's all about the details...Ronald McDonald with a rocket launcher!? A crocodile with a bomb strapped to it!? Bill's fly is undone and everything...he even worked in the saxophone! I believe this deserves the hashtag #sowrongitsright.

Sick in Bed: Mother of a Toddler Edition

It is the best of times, it is the worst of times. Dickens got that much of it right. Mothering, as it as often been said, is a full-time job without sick days, holidays, or paydays. However, now that E is old enough to entertain himself and be entertained by activities that don't require my constant and undivided attention, sick days at home with a toddler are tolerable.

Enjoying a well-earned rest.

Our mornings when I'm sick tend to look like this. The Husband gets E up and feeds him breakfast before he goes to work. I slog around literally dragging my feet and stay in my pyjamas until nearly noon. I drink lots of hot drinks, eat whatever baked goods I've made myself this week (pumpkin muffins this time around...recipe to follow!), and keep the tissues close to hand. I also contrive to feel as sorry for myself as possible.

E generally doesn't mind this. He's independent enough now to run and scamper around the flat without my constant supervision. And when he's done exploring, he's more than happy to curl up in bed with his mummy and watch a few episodes of Sarah & Duck or Charlie and Lola...his two favourites at the moment.

It's a fifty-fifty toss up as to whether he takes his nap in bed with me or decides he wants to read some books in the chair in his room. If it's the latter, he sleeps in his crib. At least when this happens, I can make our bed before the day is too far spent, so I don't feel like such a waste of life. I tell you; the timely and efficient making of one's bed has a huge impact on morale when you're spending most of your day at home.

As much as I've ever enjoyed working in museums (which was a lot, by the way: I liked it a lot), I love having the leisure to spend a lazy morning in bed with my son if I need to. And boy did I need to this morning. I can dose up on pain killers, swill indecent amounts of herbal tea, and eat pumpkin muffins like they're going out of style. Sure, no amount of sugary goodness, no number of fluffy pillows, and no slew of cartoons - however cute - really detract from the fact that my throat burns, my head aches, my nose drips, and I generally feel like death warmed over. But in spite of all the yuckiness, I can relax. I can enjoy lounging in bed while E tries to say things like 'car keys', or waves goodbye to his daddy, or uses an old wrapping paper tube like a vuvuzela.

And now that I have a sleeping toddler once again, it's time to get back to some book reading, nose blowing, and tea drinking. My son may be down for the count, but Bill Bryson can be my comfort for the next few hours.

Loving this book right now. via, Bill Bryson

Today.

Today is a rainy day. Rainy days are best spent inside, on the couch, watching movies, snuggled under blankets. Last night was a rubbish night. The Husband and I already knew that E had broken through the first half of his two top molars and that his bottom lateral incisors were cutting the gums. What we didn't discover until last night was that his bottom molars are also coming in, making that six teeth that are forcing their jagged way through his little baby gums. Well; that explains a lot.

E spent most of the night in our bed. He chewed bread crusts, had ice cold water, and somehow climbed so far over the bed trying to get comfortable, that he nearly fell asleep curled up between our feet like a dog or a cat. (For the record, I did realise this, though half asleep, and moved him back up onto a pillow.)

What vacuuming it's worthwhile to do before lunch has been done, no laundry urgently needs washing, and with a toddler just gone down for his nap, I'm not heading out to run any errands. His sleep is precious to me.

So what will I do with myself? Resist the temptation to fritter away countless hours on Pinterest for a start. I will sit down with my lunch and do as I did last night: curl up and read At Home by Bill Bryson, which I've had out from the library for ages and have been meaning to finish and talk about on the blog. We try to read more books in this house because we enjoy it, but so much other stuff is there to take up the time. Most of our literary exposure lately has involved books like Penguin's Hidden Talent or One Ted Falls Out of Bed or one of the Charlie & Lola books by Lauren Child.

My reading, like my exercise, is something I do for me. When I can snatch away a few minutes, or purposely build them into the day, it's time I get to have for myself and by myself. I love my boys, and I enjoy reading to E, or reading with the Husband, or going running together as a family...but I also really love those two activities on my own. It's good and relaxing, and lets me focus better through the rest of the day to have that time to myself.

So without further ado, the history of the cellar awaits me...and possibly the hallways, too, if there's time. Please, let there be time.

A New Light on Old Things

What sort of old things? Well, bones to be exact. Royal bones. Forget what Bill Shakespeare told you, people, because there was no withered arm...and probably no fiendish cackling whilst plotting the murder of his nephews either. In a press conference today, a team from the University of Leicester announced that they were certain beyond any reasonable doubt that they had found the remains of Richard III.

Where was the poor bloke buried? Well, originally a church, but he ended up beneath a council car park in the end. You can check the full story in this article from the BBC.

Want some more - slightly fictionalized - Tudor-era goodness? I'd highly recommend diving into some Phillipa Gregory. Or, just go a few generations along in history and check out Hillary Mantel's Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies.

And if you're up for following the further developments, I'd also suggest the Richard III Society. Call it revisionist history with a sneering tone if you like, but these people have refused to take Shakespeare's play at face value as historical fact and they make an interesting case for why Richard wasn't necessarily the moustache-twirling baddie that he's always been made out to be.

Bringing HD to History

As the sort of person who got her Masters in history, I'm pretty passionate about the subject. Granted, the history I'm usually interested in is the sort of stuff that involves Neo-Classicism, Wellington, Napoleon, and the advent of the empire-waist dress and the business card, but still. Even I can appreciate something like my latest find on teh Interwebz: Shorpy.com.

Shorpy, named for teenage coal miner Shorpy Higginbotham, is a site full of old Library of Congress images. Photographs of varying types from between 1850 and 1950 have been and are being compiled: digitally remastered (wow, I feel like a DVD advert...) from the original negatives to show off what the pictures were really meant to look like.

TIME magazine even did an article on it in their Light Box section, which - with thanks to my sister - is how I found this gem in the first place. Having worked a lot with visual media in my dissertation, I was sort of glad I focussed on an era that was so firmly pre-photography. Like most of us, I tended to think of early photography as grainy, blurry, murky, and either horribly over-exposed or painfully under-exposed. But really, those sorts of condemnations are better laid at the feet of early developing rather than early photography. Whether more research could blame it on a less sophisticated technique or poorer quality equipment (which both tend to necessarily be the case when a technology is new) isn't really the point, but as Shorpy.com manages to prove with its HD restorations of old photographic negatives, the problem wasn't in taking the picture, it was in reproducing the image.

All the pictures I've grabbed here are from Shorpy.com, via the TIME article. I wish I could find the original developments of these so I could show off side-by-side comparisons, but I think that they speak for themselves. You just don't expect this sort of quality and clarity from historic photographs. Hopefully, as more old pictures get this sort of treatment, we can revise that bias and get - very literally - a better look at our own history.

Back to Normal?

So this morning, before taking Ethan to baby group, I chucked my sister's suitcases in the boot of our car and rolled off to Heathrow in the half-light of a quiet but busy autumn morning. Well...it was quiet outside of our car: inside, though, we cranked some Ed Sheeran, Fall Walk Run, and Florence + the Machine to keep us both awake. It was early, but not quite those times that get (rightly, to my mind) labelled the "unholy" hours of the morning. I made sure Victoria was checked in and ensconced somewhere comfortable with as much food as I could make her buy and a trolly to maneuver her hefty suitcases. It felt weird to hug her and say "goodbye" and "I love you" and "see you at Christmas!" knowing that she'd be off to Vienna for the next few months. I'm excited for her, don't get me wrong, but every now and then I still have to remind myself that my little sister is a grown-up now. I feel like I'm constantly fighting an in-built tendency to mollycoddle and mother-hen her to death.

So while in some ways it's nice to get back to normal life, I will miss my sister, and re-watching Spaced and Hot Fuzz, and having an excuse to spend nearly every day of the week - not cleaning - but going to all the sites I never manage to visit normally. But we did have a fantastically fun weekend.

reach for the sky!

 Our first order of business was to use the Husband's day off work to head down to Winchester for the day. When the two of us went with Ethan a few weeks back, we purchased annual passes to Winchester Cathedral with the intention of coming back with Victoria in tow. Mission accomplished.

Why yes: I am the King of England.

 We managed to see a bit more of the city than last time, including - as several of our pictures prove - the Rifles Museum that we only just missed last time we came. Confession? The main motivation for our interest was to see if they had a picture of Sean Bean from the Sharpe's Rifles series and see if anyone realised when we obnoxiously started to hum the theme tune. The answers - respectively - are yes they did, and no they didn't. The other thing we caught up on? Some more dressing up. I've told you: it's not a family outing to museums if we don't dress up!

We are the Romans...yes we are. (Eddie Izzard moment)

My "medieval merchant" face is a lot like my
"Death Eater getting a Master's degree" face...

Ethan hanging out on a tomb.

Call the War Office, Sarj! They're storming the trenches!

some lovely medieval floor tiles in the cathedral

On Saturday, we tried to relax a bit more and after doing the grocery shopping and a later lunch, we headed out to Hartley Wintney to see a gorgeous 13th century church and a National Trust property.

West Green House Gardens were lovely. To be honest, my pictures do them no justice and you ought to just A) visit the website and B) go yourself. Bonus? Starting in November they have a free Christmas fair going on there, so it's well worth a look in. I'll definitely be heading back.

Ethan had a great time as well. He got up-close and personal with some fluffy chickens and managed to get quite attached to this gardening basket in the gift shop. Thankfully, he wasn't so attached that I needed to buy it.

St. Mary's church in Hartley Wintney was also lovely, though alas: we neglected to ask after the key in order to get inside. It's been salvaged by the Churches Conservation Trust and I think they've even managed to preserve quite a few of the old polychrome paintings on the inside as well! Again...I'll be back.

In the meantime, though, I have some Mommy Mondays to chronicle, some recipes to share, and some chores to get back to. Oh! And new art to hang. Which - of course - you'll get to hear about back in this space, so keep a weather eye. :)

Guildford, Home of Window Shopping

Today, we kept our sightseeing itinerary simple: we pulled on our long sleeves (today, at 17*c was quite autumnal), packed up the nappy bag, and giggled our way through some David Sedaris on V's iPod on our way to Guildford. I'd promised that we could do a bit of window shopping either in Reading or Basingstoke, or Guildford. Needless to say, the last option won out as being "the most English" because our venue was a cobbled high street rather than a mall.

E was brilliant the whole time: only a tiny bit of fussing when he got tired and being allowed to roam through Gap and Monsoon (as well as a sneaky feed in the Monsoon changing room) was enough to placate him for the remainder of our trip. Though I'm sure that chips and chicken at Nando's and part of an Auntie Anne's pretzel helped as well.

For me, though I intended somewhere in the deep dark recesses of my subconscious to buy a few items of clothing to add to my wardrobe, my biggest temptation was in Waterstones. All the books, people: all the books. I considered buying Ethan no less than 7 books I saw whilst perusing the shelves in there. The Tale of Two Bad Mice, How to Catch a Star, That's Not My Dinosaur, Animal Colours...the list went on. Seriously. I have a list of books that need buying for our family on my smartphone. My own list has just added not only The Kingmaker's Daughter by Phillipa Gregory, but also The Potter's Hand by A.N. Wilson: I'm sorry, but how can I not own a novel about Josiah Wedgwood!? There's a reason my dissertation focused on visual culture and Neo-Classicism in 18th Century England...and that reason is: I'm a huge nerd.

via, the Daily Mail

To what I think is my everlasting credit, I restrained myself and didn't walk out of Waterstones with £70 worth of books. It was a near thing, though; let me tell you.

A few shirts and a scarf later, we had made our way up the high street, took a few pictures, snagged orange biscuits in Crabtree & Evelyn - where the girls on the staff gushed over E's baby blues - and were headed back to the car to drive home; the entire affair narrated, once again, by David Sedaris. (This is something I highly recommend, by the bye. About as much as I recommend The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy or the BBC dramatizations of Lindsey Davis's Falco detective novels.) Can I just say? David Sedaris shines his most when he makes a witty observation about life that prompts you to think for a second before you laugh and go, "yes, actually that's just what it's like!" about something perfectly ordinary.

Meanwhile, I'm off to sleep and charge the camera for our next excursion into Surrey tomorrow. Stay tuned as my new "mommy threads" will definitely make an appearance.

Vicarious Tourism: Highclere Castle

So last week I was staying with my in-laws up in West Berkshire whilst the Husband was away in California on business. One of the many perks of this? Being able to take a day with my sisters-in-law, mother-in-law, nephew, and son to go and see Highclere Castle; otherwise known to PBS costume drama nerds as Downton Abbey.

I've grown out of my rebellious youth (a bit) and decided to abide by the "NO PHOTOS IN THE HOUSE!" signs that cropped up everywhere. I seem to recall that in historic houses that sort of pedantry tends to have something to do with image copyrights and the like. So, alas, there are no photos of the stately rooms inhabited on-screen by the Earls of Grantham and off-screen by the Earls of Carnavon. As in the guy who helped discover Tutankamun's tomb.

The E-Monster and his cousin Henricus spent their time outside with Mimi and Auntie Felicity. After a brief picnic they weren't exactly in the mood to queue for minutes on end to peek into the rooms of someone else's house. Especially since they wouldn't be allowed to run amok and wreak a bit of mayhem all in the name of discovery and exploration. So it was off into pushchairs and around the grounds for the boys while Rachel and I breezed through the house enjoying its charms. Well...I say breezed, though really our pace through that house was to walking what blowing hair out of your face is to hurricane. It was chock-a-block in there with people packed into corners and down staircases to take their turn leaning precariously over a cordon to look into a swanky bedroom.

Let me pinch those cheeks!

 After our tour of the house, we decided to be reunited with our boys out in the gardens. Of course, we were quickly chivvied along to go get some more alone time touring the gardens before taking our rambunctious little guys back. So off we went.

This was part of the monks' garden. Apparently part of the site used to be a church and a monastery centuries before it became a stately home.

shhh! It's a secret.

As you can see, this is what the macro setting on your camera was made for.

At the end of the trip we came back having enjoyed a lovely day out. Don't get me wrong, I love a break, but sometimes when you have nothing else to do, you need to start making things to do: you know what I mean? Even if those things are strolling through someone else's house and gardens, perusing a gift shop, and watching your son scamper across the lawns of a manor you usually only see on TV.