Cotton

Years ago I read an article in a glossy magazine. It was an interview of a group of women about sex and relationships. One of the women said, " I hate those women who call their husband their best friend. He's your husband, not your friend." Oh well, isn't that fascinating? Because just over two years ago I married my best friend.

Happy Cotton Anniversary to us! We've known each other for so long that it seems we've been married for much longer than that, and yet I also can't quite believe that our wedding day was a whole two years ago.

It was indeed one of the best days of my life. We had planned everything just the way we wanted, and it was such a great time to spend with the most important people in our life, and above all it to cement our lifelong commitment to each other before God.

Our titanium wedding rings resting on my bouquet of roses & sweetpeas

In two years we've learnt a lot, and yet there is still much more to learn. I've recently read a lot of material, mostly by other Christians, that I can't quite agree with, particularly focusing on the role of the woman as the perfect housewife, maintaining a good appearance, and generally being fabulous and always obedient to her husband. I hate all the 'tips' that people give for 'how to be a good wife.' I'm not saying I'm figuring it out alone, but I do believe that there is so much more to a marriage than following a magazine-esque list of bullet points lacking in true substance. Below is a brief description of what our marriage looks like right now - it's a partnership, and we're in this together:

I truly believe that the five years of friendship prior to our becoming a couple has given our relationship strength, and an understanding of each other that we would have lacked had we only just met. We'd also been through a lot together emotionally already, as the love side of things was initially one-sided. It took me a long time to reciprocate my husband's feelings, and both of us grew up a lot and learnt a lot about ourselves during those difficult times. Despite all that we were very close friends, and although the unrequited love was frequently the elephant in the room, we have many great memories from our earlier friendship.

Once we became a couple, and on into marriage, our friendship has continued to grow. We go on lots of adventures together, we take time to enjoy and learn more about the things each other likes, and we've found new hobbies together. We're also content in each other's company at home, without needing to say much. Other times we can't stop talking.

We cook together or for each other. We like to surprise each other with little 'acts of service.' We each have our own chores that we do better than the other, but both of us are notorious for our inability to stay on top of housework in general. I've been learning not to bear too much guilt as the wife, as I frequently feel that I'm the one that should be managing it all (reference back to those perfect housewife bloggers - grrr). We both have our roles to play in the house. Indeed, there are certain chores where we both work much better together than alone.

We have healthy debates about issues we're passionate about - Christianity, science, politics, and social justice. But we argue too, often about minor issues but sometimes bigger ones. Marriage does not mean freedom from conflict, but our disagreements do give us the opportunity to understand each other more and to grow closer. It has taught us to compromise, and to respect each other. We have both benefitted from taking a step back and reassessing our opinions on certain things. We've also both grown in humility as a result.

We still make time for romance too. We have a 'date night' once a week, but in reality what that means is an 'evening together'. Most of the time we stay in, devoting the time to each other. We will go out 'on a date' perhaps every couple of months or so, in part due to finances and time constraints, but those evenings are always special. We are also able to be spontaneous, and so can have a romantic day or evening out at random. Those moments are treasured by us now, as such occasions won't always be possible in the future.

So, our marriage is probably much like anybody else's. It's not extraordinary. It's not easy. It's not perfect. But it is beautiful, it is an adventure, and choosing to marry each other was the best decision we ever made.

Here's to two rollercoaster years of weathering storms, dealing with stresses, adventures, brewing, chilling, discovering, planning, talking, loving, and to being the very best of friends!

Photo by our wedding photographer, Jess Foreman.

An Adventure to London's Wildlife Haven

My husband's birthday treat was a trip to the Wildlife & Wetlands Trust in Barnes, London. Having gone to the one in Arundel for my birthday, I chose Barnes as it is a prime location for bird photography. Now that my husband has his very own fancy camera and has become pretty good at wildlife shots I thought he would enjoy spending a day at a place renowned as a haven for birds, as it is the largest wild green space in the capital.

Our adventure began much the same as usual - a large tea at the station before hopping on a train. We had to change at Clapham Junction, and then it was a ten minute walk from the station in Barnes to the wetlands.

We were thirsty on arrival so headed straight to the cafe for a cup of tea and a cookie, which we enjoyed outside on the water's edge, admiring a range of waterfowl splashing about. Of course, my husband had his camera out immediately, bravely ignoring the monstrosity belonging to the serious birding couple on the table next to us.

Our first stop after tea, however, was not to see more birds. It was the otter enclosure. The centre has recently introduce a family of four Asian short-clawed otters and I was eager to see them. However, they were nowhere to be seen in their specially landscaped area of rocks, waterfalls and pools. We peered through the portholes into their sleeping holt but they weren't in there either.

Not to be discouraged, as the day was yet young, we continued onto Wildside where native flora grows in abundance to create a habitat resembling an untouched area of English countryside, a far cry from the concrete jungle that is London. Indeed, the only reminder that we were in the city was the view of roofs beyond the main lagoon, and the occasional wail of sirens in the distance.

As soon as we entered through the tall double gates we were greeted by the musical trumpeting of marsh frogs. We scanned the reeds, attempting to make them out, and eventually we saw one out on the water and watched , fascinated by his bulging vocal sacs as he croaked. Eventually the peace was disrupted by a group of 'jolly hockey sticks' types on a tour, so we decided to disappear up a footpath into the relative tranquillity of the reed beds, after first attempting to photograph a rather majestic grey heron resting on a bridge.

We kept our eyes pealled for water voles but they were far more elusive than at Arundel, and unfortunately we didn't see any. There were plenty of brightly coloured damselflies and dragonflies flitting about however, which made me somewhat nostalgic for our honeymoon almost two years ago, as we'd several on our stays in both Devon and on the Kennet & Avon Canal.

We continued on to one of the many bird hides for some peaceful twitching until we became hungry. We walked back to the main picnic area with a quick diversion to the otter enclosure - they were still hiding.

After lunch we visited the other side of the wetlands, meandering through lush gardens full of brightly coloured June blooms. Eventually we stopped for a rest on a bench where the foliage thickened around one of the lakes, when my husband's eye was caught by a pretty little bird fluttering about the tree opposite. He got up to take a closer look and realised it was a long-tail tit feeding her six chicks all lined up on a branch. We were captivated by them for some time, and my husband began to take numerous photos. After a while I walked on ahead to practise my own photography in a slightly less committed manner, playing with the aperture and the macro features.

After some considerable time I managed to tear my husband away from the incredibly cute long-tail chicks and we continued on, visiting a few more bird hides, where we spied many birds from visiting Egyptian geese raising their young to sand martins flying back and forth on their hunt for food for their young.

It was then time for more tea, so we went back to the cafe, arriving just in time to see a greedy jackdaw demolishing the sandwich of one of the workers - occupational hazard I guess, tee hee.

We tried to see the otters again but they were still hiding, so we wandered around World Wetlands, looking at different wetland species from all around the world. My favourite was probably this puna teal, native to the Andes, because I think his blue beak is cool!

We did another circuit of Wildside but the water voles were still hiding, and even the dragonflies had disappeared as the sky grew greyer and the wind grew stronger. We decided it was time to head home before the rains hit, with one final stop by the otter enclosure on the way out.

This time they were there, hooray! They were playing in the water and on the rocks, clambering over each other and splashing about. We had unknowingly arrived at the enclosure just before feeding time, and so we watched as they excitedly scrambled for the food that the staff tossed into the water. It was definitely worth the wait to see them!

We then proceeded homewards, squished onto a commuter train reminiscent of both our days working in London. It was a relief to get eventually get off of the train, even into the torrential rain that had now hit. We hurried through town to our favourite Indian restaurant for a delicious meal to round off a lovely day, with a great deal of wildlife photos to show for it.

Photos my own.

The Great Birthday Cake Fiasco

The other day it was my husband's birthday. He had an exam up at university in London, which is obviously not the greatest way to spend one's birthday. I tried to make up for this by taking the day off work so that I could prepare him a special breakfast, and then prepare a little surprise party for him at our church house group that evening.

Sounds wonderful doesn't it? Except, nothing in my life is ever that smooth. The breakfast part went well. I served Scotch pancakes with maple syrup, strawberries, and strawberry & champagne cream, which was tasty. The day had started well enough, but then the stresses began:

I was eager to start making the cake so that I could get over to our youth minister's flat to sort out the party related stuff. But because my husband had only an exam and no classes he left later than usual.

When he finally left I got cracking with the cake. I had searched Google Images for science-themed birthday cakes. There were several great ideas, the majority of which amounted to fabulous works of art that I could only dream of ever pulling off. I furrowed my brow, and inwardly complained about my inability to sculpt icing to form a mini laboratory on a cake. Being a creative sort, however, I was not one to give up, and I thought and thought about how I could make a cake look science-y without much difficulty.

Sweetpeas & gypsophila in test tubes!

I planned to ice the cake with the addition of a couple of test tubes that I would fill with brightly coloured jelly to give the impression they were full of exciting chemicals. We bought the test tubes a couple of years ago from a school science website, and used them to hold flowers on the tables at our wedding reception, along with conical flasks of varying sizes. Since then we have not found a use for them, so I thought I could use a couple on the cake.

However, I came up with an even more 'genius' idea, thanks to Google, of making jelly petri dishes. So I prepared the jellies - bright pink raspberry and purple blackcurrant - in ramekins, adding touches of green food colouring and little sweets to hopefully look like something fascinating a scientist would be investigating in a lab. As my husband works in biochemistry I thought I could get away with such a theme. 

I put the jellies in the fridge to set, and then set about baking the cake.I had found a recipe for a double-layered chocolate cake. Seeing as our baking tins are somewhat mismatched I decided to make only one layer of the cake in a rectangular tin, thinking that would be easier to decorate.

The baking part wasn't too difficult, except for being interrupted by a phone call from my mum. However, I was getting behind schedule, and beginning to get a bit stressed. The cake took twice as long as it ought to have done to bake in the oven.

When it was finally done I set about icing it, and then took a couple of the jellies out of the fridge. There was only really room on the cake for two of these, and I had made more than enough in case of mishap. Turns out that was a sensible prediction to make.

I turned two ramekins over, on opposite ends of the cake, and waited for gravity to do it's thing. However, because the ramekins were glass, and because I hadn't considered greasing the bottom so that the jelly would slide out, the jelly just sat there. I banged the bottoms of the ramekins, I put hot water on them, I wobbled them around. Nothing.

In the end I grabbed a knife and ran it round each of the jellies, and they slopped out. One of them looked like the perfect, manky, diseased (yet yummy) petri dish I was going for. The other decided it preferred to be a liquid rather than a solid and it began to escape over the edge of the cake. In a panic I salvaged what I could, and regarded the odd shape it had become. I shrugged, thinking it looked like a very pink and very intriguing giant bacterium that a scientist might gaze at through an electron microscope. It worked for the purpose. It looked like a five-year-old had made it, sure, but it was just about passable as a disease themed birthday cake. Yep, I know how to be romantic...

Then, in something of a stress, as I knew my husband would be back home in a couple of hours, I ran around the house finding the decorations. When all was ready I went to put the cake in a tin to take to our youth minister's flat. And that was where the true disaster happened. I don't know how, but one minute the cake was sitting on the cooling rack on top of the oven, the next it was hanging over the edge, me just managing to stop it falling completely. In painfully slow motion the jellies slid off into a crumpled heap of toxic looking goo on the kitchen floor.

I was too enraged to cry or scream. I just yelled, "No!" and stared in dismay. My rubbish cake was ruined. Listening to my heart thud in despair for a few moments I attempted to come with a Plan B. I considered that as the cake looked terrible anyway, I couldn't possibly make it worse, and there were some jellies left so I could attempt to salvage it. To me, these jellies looked less 'diseased' as they didn't have the touch of green food colouring, but they would work. I was in no mood to go through the whole process again, and in any case there was no time.

This time I left the ramekins on the cake so that the jellies would stay in place until I got to our youth minister's flat. When I got there I explained the situation to her. She thought it was funny and when she took a look at the cake, with the ramekins removed, she thought it was brilliant. I was taken aback, but pleased that I could get away with a disease cake as an acceptable theme, and relieved that I wouldn't have to go out and buy a supermarket cake to make up for my disaster.

Disease Cake!

Grateful, I left her with the decorations, and dashed home to clean the kitchen and remove all evidence that any baking had taken place.

When my husband got home I was calmly reading a book as though nothing unusual had happened. He knew that we were going to have food at house group that evening because it was his birthday, but he didn't know that there would be a surprise party.

There was some left over jelly in bowls, which I explained we needed to take to have with ice cream at house group (because we are all young at heart!). He seemed to believe this, although he was beginning to grow suspicious.

We arrived at our youth minister's flat, and when I pushed him through the front door ahead of me he walked towards the living room with some trepidation. The rest of our house group were in there, and they all yelled, "Happy Birthday!" at him, letting off party poppers and clapping. Our youth minister, who is also a great hostess, had laid on lots of yummy food. The plush red blood cell and cold viruses that I had given my husband for Christmas a few years ago, sat happily amongst the plates of pizza, salads, and cheeses, and the test tubes full of bubbly red and green liquids were on the windowsill above.

I loved the plush microbes lurking amongst the food!

Amazing what you can do with sparkling water and food colouring :)

My husband was really touched, and after we had eaten the food it was time for the birthday cake. His face was a picture as it was brought towards him, "What the...!?" After we sang and he blew out the candles, I announced that it was a disease cake, and then he couldn't stop laughing. Thankfully, he loved it, and it tasted pretty good too! After all that stress and mishap, it all turned out well, hooray!

And the next day I took him out for an adventure at the London Wetlands Centre, but that is for another post, which will be coming soon!

I just wanted to add - thank you my wonderful husband for loving me enough to accept a disease themed birthday cake, for being a geek who loves silly things like that, and just for being you - you are awesome! Happy Birthday again!

Photos my own. First photo taken by our wedding photographer, Jess Foreman.

Jubilee Celebrations

Sixty years is a long old time to be Queen, and so it seemed very appropriate to have an extra long bank holiday weekend and a great variety of celebrations throughout the country and the Commonwealth.

For the past few weeks shop windows have been decked out in red, white, and blue displays, bunting has slowly appeared on the fronts of houses and across streets, and the sale of Union Flags has steadily risen. I'm not big on patriotism, I must admit, but I actually have a great deal of respect for our monarchy, and in all honesty I did feel proud to be British this weekend, taking the opportunity to partake in some local community events held in honour of the grand occasion.

On Saturday evening we went along to a 'Right Royal Razzmatazz' event at church. A delicious barbeque of local, organic meats and very tasty salads was served, followed by a royal family themed quiz in the church and fantastic live music from some of our in-house musicians. The church looked great decked out in bunting, and red, white, and blue flowers. Everyone had a great time, and it was a perfect way to kick start the Jubilee!

On Monday we overcame our social anxiety to attend a neighbourhood garden party a few doors down. Street parties were happening up and down the country over the course of the weekend, but they can be something of an organisational nightmare as it can take so long to apply for permission to have the road closed, so our neighbours seem to prefer the much easier option of an open garden or house for the whole street instead. We actually had a pretty good time, despite some initial awkwardness, and it was good to finally meet a few more of our neighbours.

That evening thousands of beacons were lit across the UK, and with several more being lit throughout the Commonwealth. From the top of our house we had a great view of one of the beacons on the South Downs, accompanied by a very pretty firework display.

My husband had to work on the Tuesday so I spent the day with my parents. The weather was pretty grim, so my mum and I settled down in front of the TV with a cup of tea to watch the Queen's carriage procession from Westminster Hall to Buckingham Palace. This was followed by the Queen, joined by Prince Charles & Camilla, Prince William & Kate, and Prince Harry gathering on the balcony to wave to the crowds and to witness the flyover of the Lancaster Bomber, flanked by Spitfires and a Hurricane, and then followed by the Red Arrows displaying their customary red, white & blue smoke trails.

So, all in all it was a jolly good weekend. Even though Prince Philip was taken ill after the Thames Pageant on Sunday, the Queen continued to take part in all the special events planned for her in the city, and despite her age she never once appeared to look tired or fed up. I have a great deal of respect and admiration for her, and sixty years as monarch is no mean feat, a lengthy reign only currently beaten by Queen Victoria. As I said, I may not always be the most patriotic individual, but God bless Her Majesty!

However, as fun as all the festivities were, it has all been completely trumped by the wonderful news I received this morning that my dearest friend gave birth to a healthy little girl last night! What a fantastic start to June 2012!


First photo my own. Second photo from BBC Radio Wales website.

England: What I Love

Hopefully this one will be a bit more cheerful than the last one, although I hope my list of "dislikes" was at least amusing in places.

In truth, whilst there is indeed much that frustrates me about my country, there is far more that I love. It is, after all, my home, and wherever I might go in the future it always will be. However great a trip abroad I have had, I always feel a warm sensation of contentment on the plane home, seeing the familiar patchwork of fields, railways, roads, and rooftops as we begin the descent for landing. The sun may be shining, but usually the view is partially obscured by cloud. But that's my England, and I love it.

Here are some of the reasons why:

History. For a start, there is so much of it! There are so many amazing places, from ruins to completely preserved buildings, to explore, to admire, and to learn from. I've always enjoyed studying the history of our country, from the markings of ancient settlements in lonely fields through to the secret tunnels and bunkers of the more recent wars.

Dover Castle - a history extending from the Iron Age to the Cold War

Greenery. All that rain has to be good for something, and I must say that the luscious green of the countryside and forests makes my heart sing. Anytime spent in the English countryside is immediately relaxing and soothing to the soul.

Wildlife. For the most part our animals are pretty safe, unless you're allergic to particular stings and bites. When I was a child I loved seeing animals in the wild, then for years I didn't pay much attention. Since being married however I've developed a renewed appreciation. My husband loves photographing birds, and I'm learning which is which now, and am becoming better at detecting the different birdsongs. I also love working on our garden to attract different birds, bees, and butterflies. My favourite animals to spot in the wild are deer and wild ponies. I always get excited on the rare occasions that I see them, and I love to stand in silence watching them for a while.

Exmoor ponies, spotted on honeymoon in Devon

Tea. There are many types of tea that are popular here, especially Earl Grey, but I'm a big fan of a good strong cup of 'builder's tea': brew for several minutes, squeeze the tea bag to death, then add a good splosh of milk - "perfick.". That's what I drink several times a day, but I'll admit to being a little more refined on occasional afternoons when I will indulge in a cream tea at a proper English tea room, complete with fine china and dainty cake stands.

The National Health Service. "The world's largest publicly funded health service." I have great admiration for the NHS, and think it's pretty damn good! It admittedly has a few problems with bureaucracy, bed space, and waiting times, but on the whole I have had a positive experience with it. From having my wisdom teeth removed to the treatment of my slightly malfunctioning thyroid I've received great quality care, as have many people I know. Good healthcare is something that all people should have access to regardless of their income or any life-long illness they may be suffering from.

Queueing. Although I actually loathe queueing because I am an immensely impatient individual, I must admit that it keeps order. If you ever push to the front of a queue in this country you will be met with the coldest of glares. One must wait for one's turn you know.

Strawberries. Fresh local strawberries from late May and early June are the most delicious fruit that ever was. Add meringues and cream and you have the perfect dessert.

Festivals. There are lots of festivals that I love, in particular Bonfire Night in my hometown, but also small festivals held all over the place, usually throughout summer or around Christmas time. When I was a child we frequently went to arts and crafts fairs in the grounds of grand palaces, or history festivals held in castle ruins. These usually involve admiring stalls of expensive but beautiful goods, watching events from jousts to belly dancing, eating hog roasts, fudge, or ice-cream to excess, and digging around for a bit of pocket money to buy the cheapest yet coolest thing you can find - mini cannon key-ring anyone?

Hubby & friends purchasing mead at Herstmonceux Medieval Festival

The Seaside. In the summer a stroll along a promenade with a Mr Whippy ice-cream, a paddle in the cold sea, building a sandcastle on a sandy beach or searching for interesting shells on a pebble beach, riding a carousel, walking along a pier, clambering amongst rock pools, maybe taking a boat out fishing, and then ending with fish and chips for supper, is the kind of stuff my childhood holidays were made of. The combined smells of seaweed, sun cream, and salty air bring back a lot of happy memories. I also don't live very far from the coast, so it's an experience that can be frequently relived as an adult, huzzah!

London. I love the Big Smoke, more so now that I no longer work there. I don't really like the crowds, but I do love spending the day there with friends, whether its to play at being tourists in Westminster or at the museums, seeing a show in the West End, grabbing a bite to eat in Covent Garden or The Strand, going to a gig in a small Camden bar, or just wandering at leisure along the South Bank. I have very fond memories of my student days visiting the University of London and Institute of Classical Studies libraries in Senate House in Bloomsbury followed by hanging out with a friends in other areas, so each time I go to London I feel a strong attachment to my studies that reminds me that the capital will always be a special place for me.

View up the Thames from the top of Tower Bridge

We're in Europe. I can hop on the Eurostar, ferry, or plane and be in continental Europe pretty quickly. So far I've explored parts of France, Belgium, Italy, Poland, Greece, Spain, and Portugal. Holland is next on the radar.

We're in the United Kingdom. Wales is the only one of the other UK countries that I have been to. It's incredibly beautiful, from the gorgeous south-west of Pembrokeshire to the stunning and mysterious Snowdonia region. I very much want to explore Scotland and Northern Ireland - they are on my very long 'to visit' list. Both countries have been highly recommended for their outstanding beauty first of all, and there's also plenty of history and interesting places to explore. Yet there's also much more of Wales, and indeed England itself, that I have still to see, not to mention all the islands dotted around. At least there's plenty to keep us busy over the next few years!

Let's not forget the other awesome things that I love about England: South Downs, pubs, Shakespeare, double decker buses, Marmite, roses, cider, Jane Austen, hidden passages in towns, Sunday roasts, Harry Potter, Muse, cheddar cheese, Bill Bailey, fry-ups, the Kennet & Avon Canal, excellent costume dramas, Lake District, village greens, some of the sexiest sounding villains in Hollywood...


And now at the start of this extra long weekend of festivities, I would just like to say:

Happy Diamond Jubilee to Her Majesty

Photos my own.

England: What I Dislike

So, as I'm sure many of you are aware, it is the Queen's Diamond Jubilee this weekend, and we have two bank holidays to celebrate. In honour of the grand occasion I decided to be 'patriotic' and share a few things I do and do not love about my home country. I would do it about the United Kingdom itself, but not having been to Scotland or Northern Ireland yet I didn't feel that would be appropriate, so these two posts shall just be about England (although  much of it probably does apply to the rest of the UK).

First up, things I generally dislike or even despise about England (some are a bit heavy, but most are just for fun):

Winter. It's usually one or all of these things - really cold, very wet, ridiculously windy, bleakly grey.

Volume of traffic. There are just too many cars and too many ugly bypasses. The problem is particularly bad in historic towns, which cannot cope with so much traffic. For example, where I live there is a bypass immediately to the south of the town but an obscene amount of traffic still travels through the narrow streets, shaking the foundations of centuries old buildings and making life difficult for pedestrians and cyclists alike. I just don't get it - who are all of these people and where are they all going in their cars? It makes my head hurt.

The obssession with talent shows. Programmes like X-Factor, Britain's Got Talent, and Strictly Come Dancing seem to have a fierce grip on the nation. My husband and I try to live in a blissful bubble of ignorance as we don't own a television, but work colleagues and friends will go on about these shows incessantly. Their opinions about the winners and losers, and the sheer injustice of it all, plague daily conversations and the walls of Facebook. Urgh, there's no escaping it.

The Daily Mail. This video pretty much sums up my reasons why:

Xenophobia. This is not common to most English people, and believe it or not, not all of us refuse to learn other languages, but the minority xenophobic voice shouts loudly, particularly in relation to asylum seekers and refugees. I get so frustrated by the lack of understanding and compassion when it comes to these issues. It's not really a surprise then that English xenophobes are usually Daily Mail readers.

Scaremongering by the media, most notably whenever they call anything a "crisis" - the water crisis, the housing crisis, the petrol crisis, the seagull crisis. Yes, we have an issue with water resources but we aren't dying from lack of it. Yes, petrol is expensive but at least we still have it for now, and is it really that inconvenient to sometimes get the bus or train or even (dare I say it), walk!? In my mind, crises are wars, famines, human rights abuses by governments, natural disasters, exploitation such as the sex trafficking industry or paying people a wage that will not even feed one of their children let alone their whole family. Since when is it a crisis to pay over £1 for a litre of petrol? Get some perspective! And anyway, what happened to that whole stiff upper British lip attitude? Keep calm and carry on good sirs!

Houses named Something Cottage that are actually the size of small mansions. If they are real cottages no problem, but if they are manor houses then please name them something more appropriate.

Irritating names for cottages. For me the name, 'Tudor Cottage' particularly grates, as it invariably seems to be a name for houses that were not even mere dust during the Tudor period (which according to a recent BBC article isn't even a valid term for the years between Henry VII and Elizabeth I - I have to agree) let alone an actual building. Perhaps they were built on the site of a Tudor property, I can't necessarily prove that they weren't, but you never see ones called Georgian Cottage, Saxon Cottage, Roman Cottage, Neolithic Cottage, Modern Cottage, Any Other Age Cottage... you get my drift...

Arguments over how to pronounce certain words. Because of regional dialects there are frequently disagreements (these happened a lot when I was at university) about how to say certain things, such as "grass" or "bath" - Southerners generally pronounce it "grars" or "barth", and Northerners, "grass" or "bath" (Midlanders can often fall anywhere between the two in my experience). OK, so those from t'up North pronounce those words how they're spelt, but why should they necessarily follow that rule? Look at words like "tomato" and "potato" which have the same ending but are pronounced differently ("tomar-toe" and "potay-toe"). The biggest argument, however, seems to lie with how to say, "scone." Is it "scone" as in "gone", or "scone" as in "bone"? Let the battle commence!

Enjoying a cream tea on honeymoon in Devon

On that note, I shall end, for I have been party to far too many "scone" debates, and it just makes me really want a cream tea. A good time to stop, no?

Except I forgot to mention the following things, but we don't want to be here all day so here's a list of further irritations: football hooligans, toffs, Ricky Gervais, muck spreading on a windy day, Tesco, binge drinking, British Telecom, litter, Alan Sugar, government bureaucracy, Simon Cowell, constant development and the never ceasing sound of building works, Cheryl Cole, the Conservative party...

On with the more positive stuff tomorrow :D

Photos my own.