Pancake day perfection

Last year I was a bit confused by Pancake Day (a.k.a. Shrove Tuesday) so I didn't take part. I've never been a big pancake fan, and therefore it didn't seem necessarily fun to overindulge on pancakes, which is what one does on pancake day. For me, something like Fat Tuesday and drinking to excess makes more sense before repenting during Lent (not that I repent during Lent).

But this year, for some reason, Leo and I decided to celebrate Pancake Day, by putting together a pancake feast, both savory and sweet. Rather than taking on the English tradition, however, we decided to celebrate Maslenitsa (the Russian equivalent - which can be referred to as both pancake week or butter week) so Leo made some rather buttery pancake batter from a recipe in our Russian cookbook...so buttery that no butter was actually needed to cook them in the pan. These things oozed butter!
To add to the Russian festivities, we also toasted our meal with vodka. We served up the pancakes topped with ham and cheese, mushrooms and onions, and for dessert with gooseberry jam. I think now I'm a pancake fan!

We've moved

Last weekend we hired a van and moved all of our stuff to the new flat. The move itself was the easy part. We hired a man-and-a-van as they call it here, and the man came at 2 pm like he said and he even helped us load the van, which was not something we paid for but which we accepted happily. Somehow the 6 suitcases and a guitar which we had brought with us to London a year ago had expanded to 6 suitcases, 3 garbage bags, 4 plants, a desk, 2 bookcases, a TV, a PlayStation, and several smaller bags crammed with pictures and other junk. I have no idea how we expanded this much in one year! But we easily fit everything into the van, waved goodbye to the mouse-infested flat (Leo had killed one just that morning), and in less than 15 minutes were at our new place where there was a vacant parking space directly in front for the van. We unloaded everything in minutes and began the excruciating task of finding places for everything. The task is almost made worse when you have too many options of where to put things, as is the case with our new flat.

As we started unpacking, we noticed one BIG problem with the place...it was freezing. We ran the heater almost all day and still the place was icy (not sure why we didn't realize that a bedroom in a basement in winter in London might be very cold). But also, there seemed to be something wrong with the boiler, since it kept turning itself off (even when we told it to stay on!) when it thought the flat had reached the desired temperature, even when that temperature had certainly not been reached and you could see your breath inside. So, while unpacking I had on a hat, scarf, and heavy sweater and looked more like I was on an expedition in the Arctic than in my new, lovely flat with centralized heating in central London.

On Sunday, we spent a fun-filled day at Ikea, spending more money than we'd have liked to on the same items we've bought several times before. And now I'm still trying to find a place for everything and and to put everything in its place. I think once we get the cold issue resolved, and the mold (another issue arising from living in a basement), the place will be fine. At least there are no mice!

The big-ish snow

Yesterday, London was blanketed by snow...a whole 6 inches of it (sense the sarcasm!). Not much by say Chicago standards, even New York standards...but a lot for here. Enough for here to shut down the city, bringing all of the buses, planes, and most trains to a halt, closing school. Due to the inclement weather an estimated 6 million people just didn't show up for work throughout Britain, most not even calling in. Sure, it took me 2 hours to get into work yesterday, walking the icy sidewalks (because neither shop owners, companies, nor the city feel any responsibility to pedestrians and actually shovel or salt the streets or sidewalks) and I had to walk to 3 different tube stations in order to find a working train (all of which were listed as being operational when I left my flat in the morning). But I got to work! Along with every other American I know in London, even when their commutes were even worse than mine.

As I was walking to work I was recalling my two mile walks to work during the transit strike in Manhattan. It was the dead of winter and probably the coldest week 0f the year. There was a great sense of community on those icy days, as people would walk together in packs like penguins to try to keep out the cold. Everyone was put out, everyone was cold and tired, but everyone did everything they could to get to work. Why? Because we had jobs to do and because we all felt a sense of obligation. Ok, maybe I'm generalizing a bit, but each day we'd get into the office, all with our stories of struggle and triumph to tell - hitchhiking across the Brooklyn Bridge, walking from the upper east side to Battery Park to get to work by noon, carpooling with coworkers from the outer boroughs, slipping and falling multiple times with strangers coming to your aid. But when I finally got into my office yesterday all the lights were out, and I was all alone. The place was a ghost town. There were so few people who actually turned up for work, the Museum was forced to close by 2 pm.

Yes, there was a lot of snow and ice. But everyone knew the snow and ice were coming, so why was nothing done to prepare for this? Why were the roads not salted? Why were the train tracks not de-iced? Because no one turned up to do the jobs they were supposed to be doing! I know I'm going on a bit too long about this, but I find it really irritating. I would have liked to stay in bed, I would have liked to make a snow man, and I would have liked to sit in a pub by a fireplace (if one was actually open yesterday), but instead I went to work and did my job.