Saturday, 5 May 2012

The big move...

Hello you,

I am leaving you a note in case you have landed here looking for me. After seven years on Scotland I am moving back to Canada with my beloved Scotsman.

I am still online and puttering on a new project combining my two loves of cake and travel. Please come and visit or submit a photo: http://www.cakewithaview.com/ 

Whever we end up in B.C. I will be blogging again in my sensuous, local tourism vein. If you would like to be kept up-to-date with my creative wanderings, email me at pleasebringcake@gmail.com or follow me on Twitter at @pleasebringcake.

DFTBA and eat cake.

Sophia xx

Monday, 20 June 2011

And it's goodbye from me

Hello you.
Alas my blogging days are at an end for now. With my mind and creative energy on other things, I'm closing up shop on both of my blogs.

Thankfully I have google reader to dive into your bloggy lives whenever I want, and I have no doubt I will eventually reemerge in blogland under another guise.

I have started a wee email list if you would like to be notified when I have shed my virtual skin and stand again on a new patch of internet real estate. Just email me at scotland4thesenses@gmail.com and include "Sophia's email list" in the subject line. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

You are made of awesome.

Peace, love and haggis,

Sophia

Friday, 20 May 2011

Cake. More Cake. Even more cake.

A cake club is a brilliant idea. A big group of strangers bake cakes and bring them to a predetermined location. They stand around in a jittery mob as the cakes are lined up on a long counter.

They face the land of cakes, waiting and waiting for the moment of permission, that glorious moment when they are told the slicing and devouring can begin.

One baker has made a cake she has dubbed "the tower of sin." The crowd is noticeably thicker on the side of the room that is closest to this sweet monster.
Even when the first slices are piled onto small plates and the forks are made busy with stabbing and scooping, everyone still stands close to the cakes, ready to refill as soon as possible when plates are empty.

Time passes, more slices are eaten. People slow down, find a seat, aren't so quick to rush to cut another piece. The sugar buzz takes over their minds. They look at each other with dopey half grins, these strangers drunk on cake.

Good times, this whole cake business. Good times.

Monday, 2 May 2011

35 Things

Every year on our birthdays, my curvaceous Canadian friend and I compile a list. Between one birthday and the next we must do as many new things as years that we have been alive. The idea is that this will help us to challenge ourselves,to  keep our minds open to new horizons and experiences.

Yesterday I turned 36 and I emailed my list of 35 things to my friend. Looking at it I am quite pleased. It gives me a wonderful sense of abundance, looking at all of these adventures in one place.

Here is my list. Now to get started with 36 things.

1. Visited largest Buddhist temple in Western Europe
2. Moved in with my Scotsman
3. Went to Tentsmuir Point Nature Reserve, where we saw no seals.
4. Visited Alloway and saw the bridge from Robert Burns’ Tam O’ Shanter
5. Went to The Royal Highland Show
6. Visited Abbotsford, home of Sir Walter Scott
7. Stranded in Seattle overnight after missing our flight back to Canada
8. Visited Melrose Abbey
9. Visited ruins of Dunure Castle
10.Visited Paisley Abbey
11. Took an open-top bus tour of London
12. Got half way through P90x. Injured myself, quit.
13. Went to the huge beach at Lunan Bay
14. Cooked Rhumblethumps
15. Went to my first private dining club - Charlie and Evelyn’s Table
16. Saw the last surviving oak tree in Birnam Wood
17. Visited The Hermitage in Perthshire
18. Made haggis wontons with whisky mayonnaise
19. Saw inside of Edinburgh University’s anatomy theatre
20. Attended Edinburgh Secret Society events
21. Saw the play The Hard Man at the Kings Theatre
22. Rode London Tube in party frock and huge hat
23. Attended Princess Anne’s birthday garden party at Buckingham Palace
24. Had a drink in the officers' mess at Edinburgh Castle
25. Attempted sticky gingerbread cake
26. Attended several “It’s Good to Give” fundraising afternoon teas
27. Had a drink in what is thought to be Scotland’s oldest pub, The Sheep Heid Inn
28. Walked part of the Fife Coastal Trail
29. Walked in Roslin Glen
30. Saw Darren Brown at The Playhouse Theatre
31. Saw the play The Haunted at the King’s
32. Weekend in Cambridge
33. Visited Isle of May
34. Saw my first puffin
35. Got engaged to my Scotsman!

Monday, 18 April 2011

Sorry? Are you mocking me, Scotland?

After nearly six years, it is rare that I have to ask a Scottish person to repeat himself when speaking. But I’ve just returned from my local butcher, where I had to resort to my confused “sorry?” response on three separate occasions during the short time it took me to by beef strips and chicken fillets.

When I’m out and about (or oot and aboot, as it were), I can feather my Canadian accent with a bit of a lilt, thereby allowing me to blend in enough so I don’t get asked where I’m from. I like this - blending in.

But when I am making a right idiot of myself, either not understanding something or when I need directions, I switch to na├»ve Canadian mode, wedging my accent so firmly into the “I’m not from here” corner that people will assume I’m either just arrived or a tourist. I don’t know why I do this. I suppose it’s another way of making myself forgettable. Let people draw a quick assumption and have it over. And so my dance of social awkwardness continues.

Every since my beloved and I have been discussing the idea of moving back to Canada, Scotland has been mocking me. The clocks have changed and suddenly the world is filled with light, blossoms and of all things, THE SUN.
The fields are green, the air is sweet, and the warmth pushes through me like it is trying to erase every memory of the horrible winter that just passed, when I was listless and depressed for months.

One of my work colleagues said something that is weighing on me. He said I underestimate my attachment to this place. I wonder if I do. If we leave, it will be very hard for me to come back. Not just the starting from scratch yet again, but all the cost and applications that would be required. I have moved many times in my life and the desire for a porch and a hammock is replacing my once irrepressible nomadic itch.
This two countries thing is difficult. No matter what you choose, there will be a void on the other side which you cannot reach to fill. It will always be there, and all your beautiful memories will both shine and cut like glass.

In the meantime, Scotland mocks me. Sigh. Oh well. When in doubt, cake.