Yanda Eats Clotted Cream and Scones

When Vicki first moved in there were just two heaters, one in each of the main downstairs rooms. The local term for these is "gas fires". They look impressive enough. One even has a light you can turn on to give it a fake, 50s rumpus room electric fire effect. Unfortunately, if you remove the ornate metal covering, there is just a bic lighter scotch-taped to the wall.

By the time I arrived, Vicki had convinced the landlord to install electric heaters in three of the upstairs rooms. These work well enough but it is a bit unsettling that the thermostats don't have any actual temperature markings on them. Instead they are marked in £ per hour.

Vicki, by the way, is my wife. We were married on August 11th in a beautiful ceremony attended by drunks and hooligans.

I have set up a study in the smallest room in the house. It is on the second floor and overlooks the street. Due to its size, we have given it the name of "the Brig". Vicki's study is right next door and is enormous with a panoramic bay window and two closets. It is as yet unnamed. Downstairs is "the Smoking Lounge" which is a room equal in size to Vicki's room and contains a big comfy chair and an ashtray. I don't spend much time there. Also on the first floor but facing the back lane is "the Hub". This is the kitchen and living room combo area. It's greatest attractions are the TV and VCR.

Yes, it's true. We splurged. Television is exceedingly odd in this country. We are pop culture neophytes here and thus don't understand any of the jokes. Most of the programs are strange quiz shows involving British sports, or soap operas where we can't understand a word anyone says. There are four channels, for which we have to pay $20/month. It's no wonder people in this country are skinnier than North Americans; they have no reason to sit parked on the sofa for hours on end.

So far, I like Lancaster. It's not a big place by any stretch of the imagination, but it's old and fairly clean and you can get most of life's essentials. The house is in a great location. It is halfway between the University and downtown. You can walk to either in about half an hour. The route to the University takes you along bike paths and tiny lanes through cow pastures and green fields filled with stone fences and sheep. A ten minute walk west from the house takes you to more green sheep-filled fields with an incredible view of Lancaster Castle. From this vantage point you can also glimpse the ocean at Morecombe.

So far, I am still unemployed. I haven't started looking too hard yet. I'm taking a short-story writing course through the Open Learning Centre at the University and I managed to pick up a few quid editing a paper for a Korean friend of Vicki's. I have spotted a few jobs in the paper I might be qualified for. And, though Lancaster is quite small, the sprawling metropolis of Manchester is only an hour away by train.

Vicki is working feverishly on her PhD and had a review of a dance conference published in two of the University newsletters this month. She is planning to submit a paper to a conference in London that happens in February. Hopefully, she will be successful.

My mother will be leaving Saudi Arabia supposedly for good on Dec. 1. I am hoping to meet up with her on Koh Samui in Thailand sometime during the next month and a half. You are all, of course, invited to join us. Vicki is dithering, as she is concerned about getting behind in her studies. Personally, I figure she can read under a thatched roof as easily as she can under a tiled one.

Cheers,