I’ve been home to Christchurch via Seoul in February, and saw the pieces being picked up there after the big earthquake (aftershocks bullying the city every four hours). I nearly wrote ‘earthquake’ with a captial there. It must have a capital in my brain. Thanks to the shakes, I’ve had Chloe here in England for the last three months (and been introduced to the life of a student/gown in Oxford: surreal). I’ve met some interesting people through work and I’ve discovered many new foods, places (like the incredibly good Liverpool), bands and pubs that I’m sure are all worthy of a paragraph or two. I’ve also just moved into a very lovely flat in – IN – London Feilds, with Magnus. So, no more ‘shut the front door’ hilarity care of our Christmas-carrots-fourteen-ways ex-landlord, I’m afraid.

So, why no news? Perhaps it’s that my camera met an untimely end on the track to Anchorage in Marahau, and I’ve only recently replaced it. It’s also been a busy, tense time on the work and home fronts and though I do love a good whinge, it wasn’t a very inspiring phase. I wasn’t reading as much either and if I don’t read, I have trouble putting words in a entertaining – or sensible – order.

Some pictorial highlights over the last few weeks include:

Inflating the air-mattress* with Chloe in our new living room.

*Upon the arrival of Blair on the 29th, it will be known as the Blair-mattress.

Down t’local: with Rose (old work friend and new London Fields neighbour) and Magnus, at The Dove on Broadway Market, on Friday night. Revelation: cherry beer. We went for dinner at the Indian next door and it was magnificent.

The new hydrangea for our balcony. Yes, balcony. Very exciting!

Seriously though, most uncomfortable night in history.

If there was ever an illustration of too many chiefs spoiling the broth or or not enough cooks or whatever, tonight is it.

Christmas this year will again be spent in Claygate at casa del Alanko. Very elderly Finnish grandmother is being transported from deepest darkest Finland for the occasion – I hope it’s not to stressful for her. When I met her she seemed like a pretty tough lady so I’m sure it’ll be fine. Children Alanko-Johnstone (Magnus, his sister Emma and I) are in charge of the English Christmas food agenda and I’m excited about trying out stem ginger macaroons and a boozy trifle (teetotal parent Alankos may not approve though – make two versions?). God only knows what we’ll come up with for the main course. Has to be vegetarian and if anything to do with Magnus’ sister probably organic,fairtrade, low fat, traditional yet fashionable, university educated etc etc…

Counting down the weeks to the NZ trip. As in physically crossing them off in my diary. Does anyone ever really grow older than about 10?

I’ve turned a corner with the body-is-my-temple programme. No more weird pre/pro-biotics. Fruit, veg and three classes a week at the gym are doing the trick nicely. Although, discovery of the last few months: Cod Liver Oil. My hair is like a pantene commercial, my nails are lovely and skin…okay (sure that the pre-Christmas festivities are contributing to the un-okayness mostly). In a hilarious blond moment last week I offered some to Magnus (hippie) (vegetarian) thinking he might want to join me in said Pantene commercial. Apparently CLO contains fishy things unpalatable to vegetarians!

Aforementioned pre-Christmas festivities aren’t as glam as I’d imagined, at work at least. I actually skipped the company party this week and have made myself available to only one departmental outing, in favour of sitting at home, watching telly, eating cheese and drinking Snowball cocktails with Ross and Magnus. We’re a pretty festive bunch when we get going. A lot of roffling, as Ross would say. Suppose I should be a little more involved at work – I passed my probation period this week – but I have to say something’s still missing. Fuel for jumping up the ladder I suppose. Not at the jumping-ship stage yet.

All Christmas shopping for NZ: done. Not going to stress about UK things for a few weeks. I’m on top of the decorations this year (pine cones and dried-out orange wreathy things) and a couple of jars of pickled onions have been made and are waiting in readiness for gifting. I know. Slightly scary levels of domestic, crafty, Christmassy happiness going on at the moment.

Adding to all-round digusting happiness: just found a stash of Lady Grey tea bags under the desk. Rejoice!

The odd thing with this round of home invaders is that I’m not too bothered. Well, I say that, but I’ve been bothered enough to clean the entire flat, stuff crevices with steel wool, lay shedloads (newly acquired brit word – too poncy?) of bait and spray every surface with tabasco sauce (house mice are not condiment fans, according to some hippies people).

Traps arrived in the post today – pictures to follow!

Paris at the end of the month with Nicola

Camera is broken again

Mad Men Mondays still in full swing

Book Group this month: Lolita

Fish and Chip supper with the bodacious Brett is booked for Monday night.

Word of the day: Sciolist

I could probably settle for some activity in the form of netball and a little restraint in terms of pasta, but the problem I have at the moment is mozzarella. I think it might be my favourite food/pastime, ever. It’s even made me hate tomatoes less, which is something that even a thousand cream cheese bagels couldn’t achieve.

Happenings here are mainly work related. Still only being a few weeks old means that I can’t really report on any thing major, including improvment on my part, but I have figured out where the bacon sandwiches are. Damn. If health wins this week, those’ll have to go. The never ending supply of cake and biscuits isn’t showing any signs of slowing either…

I miss yoga – perhaps I should start that again. I used to go to one in a grand hall at St John at lunchtime, but after a year or so, both the teacher and her star pupil because unbearably cosmic, so that was that. There must be a club at new work I can join. There’s a choir. There has to be a yoga group. There is probably a yoga and cake group.

Magnus and I went to Grinderman at the Coronet on Saturday night as a combined birthday outing. It was probably the best live show I’ve ever seen. Our view was great, the sound was too and I had the foresight (nerdery) to pack a sandwich, which edged me very close to the Perfect Concert Experience. I hope to achieve PCE this weekend at the Albert Hall while brass banding.

Qucikly back to Grinderman: If anyone is going to the BDO in Auckland/Melbourne next year, I think they are playing. Watch them.

The great grey has begun and autumn is settling. Though it’s made for some pretty sunsets over White City on my way home this week, and the temperature inside the tube carriages of the Central Line has dropped to a slightly more comfortable (but just as humid) level, I think I’ll need to start shining a torch in my eyes soon to top up my brain’s contentedness.

I remain without trusty iLimb but have been assured (fobbed off by) O2, that one, with my name on it, will arrive at my nearest outlet tomorrow afternoon. I bet there’s an app for topping up your vitamin D levels actually…