Cooking Dinner (a tale of great responsibility) | Day 69/100

My husband and I have an understanding: he cooks, I clean. This setup was established early on in our relationship and suits us both fine. He loves his food, so is more adventurous with cooking, whereas I'll happily claim a chicken breast stuffed with basil and some boiled veg as a superior culinary dish.

Yeah, I know I got an A* in GCSE food tech. Geez, stop going on about it, but that doesn't mean I'm hugely imaginative when it comes to food or completely trust my cooking skills 13 years down the line.

Despite my protests, the task of cooking dinner tonight fell to me. I'm not sure how this happened, but I've decided to suck it up, because sometimes in life you have to do things you don't enjoy. Luckily, I didn't need to prepare the menu. The husband knows well enough that would be a step too far and he's not willing to gamble the enjoyment of his dinner by letting me Google around to find an appropriate dish, looking up ever more complicated gourmet style recipes - because I want to serve my husband man only the best - and settle on something fancy sounding like steak tartare with a par boiled egg, served on fresh asparagus with a cream truffle sauce (or something), only for me to give him raw meat poisoning, salmonella, pick frozen peas because Sainsbury's local were out of asparagus and then burn the sauce.

He picked a fool proof dish that he "whips up" when we're in a hurry or need to cater for a lot of people. It would be impossible for me to fudge it up. I don't think the dish really has a name. We just call it Chorizo and Lentils...because that's what's in it. Not exactly imaginative. Sometimes we stick the word 'stew' on the end of it, just so we can classify it.

Much to my surprise, the husband was right. I didn't stuff it up. And even managed to not burn the toast that I put under the grill while flitting between chopping parsley and stirring the chorizo and lentils. TONIGHT I OWNED THAT KITCHEN! I even got an encouraging, "this tastes really good," even though I know it tastes pretty much exactly the same as when he cooks it, but hey. It's a compliment for my cooking, so I'll take it.

But how is this foolproof dish created, I hear you cry. Well, don't tell him I'm sharing this (although I think he stole it from somewhere else), but here's the recipe.

How to cook Chorizo & Lentil 'Stew' 

Adorable. He even typed it up and printed it out for me, so it was super clear and I'd get his dinner right! That's love folks.

Mastering snooker | Day 68/100

The Masters snooker tournament has been on all this week. Currently, while writing this blog, I'm catching up on the Robertson v Trump match that was on this afternoon. I'm also drinking ale and eating blue cheese. I promise, I'm not an old man in disguise.

I know, snooker isn't everyone's cup of tea when it comes to sport, but over the last few years I've been really enjoying it. I love the suspense, the rivalries, the strategy and the players' ability to make totally un-pottable balls, pottable*. It's also really therapeutic. Like cricket, it's one of those sports that you can have on in the background, the comforting sound of the hushed commentators' voices and clatter of the snooker balls filling the silence while you carry on with other jobs. A glance back at the screen now and then will tell you if you need to pay more attention or not. It's the perfect winter sport to snuggle down to.

Yeah, I'm sure there are lots of well-versed fans that won't think of it like that, but that's what I enjoy about the game.

Anyway, as I watch it more I've been trying to become versed in the rules. I get the basics, but there are still laws in snooker that I don't get. I'm a long way off being sharp enough to do all the maths and work out when there are "snookers required". But there are other rules, like when one player fouls and then they're either made by the other player to replay the shot, or the non-hitting player (for lack of not knowing what else to call them) can come to the table and take the shot from the new position that the cue ball is in.

Does that make sense? Oh, ok I just looked it up. It's the rule of a foul or a miss leading to a free ball (seriously confusing). Turns out that the free ball rule is possibly the most complex, but here's what I've managed to find this evening to further my snooker education. A free ball is:

When a player is snookered on the reds after a foul shot by their opponent, they can nominate any colored ball on the table as a red. If that ball then gets potted, it counts as one point, it is respotted in its correct place on the table, and a color can then be nominated in the normal way. (taken from Sportsdefinitions.com) 

So now we know what a free ball is, when is it a foul and miss? And when can the non-striking player request the striker to replay it?

From what I can gather, a 'miss' comes down, in part, to the referee's discretion. If they don't think a player has made enough of an effort to hit a ball that's hittable, then it's called as a miss and a foul. It gets complicated from here, but luckily the BBC are on hand to clear it up and have done a way better job at explaining:

After a foul and a miss has been called, the next player may ask the offender to play again from the position left or, at his discretion, from the original position. (taken from BBC Sports)

Now I'm somewhat better versed, I shall return to the snooker, and my ale, for the rest of the evening. If you don't think you're a snooker fan, but you're saying that without really having watched it, then I challenge you to spend just 15 minutes watching the final on Sunday. I reckon you'll be hard pushed to not be a little bit impressed with the skill you'll see and the suspense of 'will they, won't they make the pot?!' that will leave you feeling just a bit excited about snooker.

*If you watch snooker enough, then you'll come to accept that this is a perfectly acceptable word in the English language.

A blooming lovely gesture | Day 59/100

January sucks big time. I'm yet to discover something wonderfully positive about this month. I think my husband feels the same, because he seems to have gone into total bad mood, hibernation mode. Mostly, I think it's because he's Australian and suffering from a lack of Vitamin D.

Anyway, it's not nice to see him so down so I've been thinking about how to put that smile back on his face. Knowing it was going to take more than some chocolate and back to back episodes of Blackadder to really make a smile stick, I thought, 'what one thing that no one can resist smiling at?'

The answer of course is PUPPIES!

That's right, it's really hard to not smile and feel instantly happy when presented with a puppy. Unfortunately, I don't have the time nor the budget to care for a small dog. So instead I opted for buying him a bunch of flowers, because we all know it's just as incredibly difficult not to smile when faced with a bunch of fresh smelling blooms.

Interestingly, while stood in the florists, I was trying to think back to another time when I'd bought flowers for a man. And I don't think I ever have. Surprising, considering I so enjoy breaking gender stereotypes and so gifting a man some flowers seems like an obvious one. I mean, think about how many people you've bought flowers for? And then how many of those recipients were men?

It's kind of funny really, how you can be in garden, or walking a meadow and men will stop and appreciate plants and flowers. But as soon as you pick them and wrap them up in a bunch there's this weird social convention that men won't appreciate them as much...or in the same way a woman would.

I remember sitting and watching the Olympic Games a few years back and a friend commenting on how "weird" it was that the male athletes get posies when they win. "Surely they should only be given to the women winners?" he questioned. Obviously there was no logic in his question and no reason why the male athletes wouldn't appreciate a posy of flowers, but it does go to show how this is one area that's still so gender stereotyped.

With Valentine's round the corner, I must keep an eye out for any interesting stats on giving flowers as gifts.

Anyway, gender politics aside, I'm pleased to report that this story has a happy ending. Giving the husband his bunch of flowers, his little face lit up with a smile I'd not seen all week. "You got me flowers!" Such was his surprise that it was hard not to laugh at him. In a nice way. Of course. He didn't think he'd ever been bought flowers before either, so a life first for both of us!

Mission accomplished.

For anyone not getting flowers, here are some puppies to lift your mood.

Estoy aprendiendo Espanol | 57/100

I'm learning Spanish. Or at least trying to. By my own admission, languages aren't really my strong point. I'm only three days in, so my vocabulary is still really limited. I even had to Google translate the title of this post - which reads 'I'm learning Spanish', in case you wondered - because I haven't learnt the words for 'I'm and 'learning' yet.

The motivation for trying to speak in Spanish is because the husband and I are off travelling to Central and South America next year. While he's already fluent in French and can get by in a restaurant with the little Spanish he's learnt, I'm totally new to it. At school I paid attention enough in French, just so I could be in a high enough set to drop that and learn German.

I know a *bit* of German. I got my C at GCSE, so can just about get by in a restaurant. We didn't do any Spanish and it wasn't really an option.

So far, in Spanish I know how to say 'the girl/boy' (la nina/el nino), 'I eat bread' (Yo comes pan) and 'You the man' (Tu el hombre...I think....I'm trying not to Google it). Doesn't sound much, but in three days I have become 2% fluent in Spanish. That's two percent more than I was a week ago.

Not sure how far I'll get doing just 10 minutes a day, but my aim is to get enough under my belt so that I can hold a basic conversation. And if I get lost/stranded anywhere that I'll at least be able to communicate on some basic level to get myself out of the pickle I find myself in. I'd also like to be able to know enough to order in a restaurant.

Doable? Here's hoping! Will keep you posted on progress. And for any of my friends that speak Spanish already, be warned. I may try some of my bad Spanish out on you in order to practise.  

All you have to do is pick up the sticks | Day 56/100

Today the husband and I were invited for a lazy New Year Sunday roast at a friend's house. While I wish I could dedicate this whole post to how tender the roast beef was, how perfectly crispy the roast potatoes were, how indulgent the cream leeks and bacon tasted, along with the several other side dishes, and a heap of delicious red wine to accompany it, sadly that's not where this story is going.

Instead, I wish to write about the really old game that we played, that I'd never played before and got way too competitive at.

You may have heard of it: it's called Pick Up Sticks, or more traditionally, 'Mikado'. According to the oracle that is Wikipedia, it got it's name from the highest scoring stick, known as the Mikado which means "Emperor". Interesting. It's also interesting that after reading the rest of the Wikipedia page, we in no way played the game right. But hey, it was a Sunday. We'd eaten a HUGE meal, drunk lots of red wine and so if we wanted to play by our own rules then we would.

The gist of the game (as we played it) was to remove as many of the wooden sticks from the pile without disrupting or moving any of the other sticks. If you did, then you has to leave the stick where it was, or randomly replace it. Manage to get hold of it without moving anything else and you keep the stick and get another go. In the proper game different coloured sticks have different point values, but we simply played that whoever managed to get the most sticks by the end of the pile, won.

Like I said, it was Sunday.

Anyway, I managed to get off to a good start, removing all the easy ones so had a three stick lead. But then our host managed to get the magic Mikado stick, so it was game on!

Honestly, I have never felt so tense about picking up an over sized cocktail stick as I did when playing this game. I had to wipe my hands dry of nervous sweat before each go as I tried to ping, swipe and manoeuvre each stick out of the pile.

My three stick lead quickly diminished, but luckily for me I have stupidly small pixie hands with little fingers. And I'd cut my nails that morning, which I definitely think gave me a tactical advantage. I managed a run of (carefully) grabbing 3 or 4 sticks in a row, thus giving me the lead. Ah, the satisfaction of winning a game you've never played before. Yes. I felt smug. I felt smug and skilled at how well I managed to pick up sticks. Because in that room I was the best stick picker upper.

What a claim to make!

Sadly, after my 11 stick victory no one wanted to play a second round and returned to more eating and red wine guzzling. All in all, a good Sunday.

Scrapbooking 2015 | Day 55/100

At the start of new years I know that the general rule is to look forward. To think ahead of all the fun things, exciting possibilities and new life experiences that the next 52 weeks can bring. While I have done a bit of that, I have to admit that 2015 was an exceptionally brilliant year for me: I had a hen party with some of my best friends and family; I got married; I saw some fabulous friends get married; my brother moved to London; drove a Mercedes; had friends and family visit from Australia and so much more that I can't even remember.

So yes, I know it's only the second day of 2016, but today I really enjoyed looking back at some of those super happy memories from just last year. I'm a big fan of actually getting photos printed. I have a draw full of them and am currently in the process of buying enough frames and photo albums to fit them all in. Today I finally got round to scrapbooking my hen party. That happened back in July, but I've only just had the spare money to get all the photos printed that I wanted.

As part of my hen party gift, my bridesmaids and friends created a book for me with photos and lovely messages for me to keep. The idea was that I then filled the rest of the pages with pics and mementos from the day. A glass of white wine, crap New Year holiday film's on the TV, blank pages and a stack of photos in front of me. I was the most relaxed and happy I'd been in weeks!

It's really hard not to smile from ear to ear when looking back through old photos. They're a brilliant remedy for when you've had a crap day. Rather than feel gloomy and let your photo albums gather dust on the shelf, pull one of them out and look back through the photos. Even if they were only taken a month or two ago, it doesn't matter how fresh the memory is, leaf through them and I bet you'll feel happier by the end of it.

Hen party done; next on to organising all my wedding snaps (I may be gone for some time...).

A little slice of Italy in Herne Hill | Day 10/100

All pizza is not created equal. You will only understand this if you have visited a proper pizzeria and managed to distance yourself from both a) the mundane, tasteless supermarket options and b) over greasy, throw-any-shit-topping-on take away variety*. 

No. A proper pizza means you enjoy the dough, the simple yet wonderfully blended flavours and that extra drizzle of quality olive oil which you choose to put on only after your pizza has been served to you. Opposed to the dousing it gets before arriving at your door on the back of a scooter. 

A proper pizza is what you'll get if you visit Herne Hill's newest eatery: Pizzeria Pellone. Boasting a traditional Neapolitan wood oven, clearly whatever was cooking was working on the locals, because every time the husband and I walked past not a table was left empty. So it was time to try it for ourselves. 

Are we really still in South London?

Stepping inside it was easy to see and feel why Pizzeria Pellone has become such a hit. It felt like a little bit of Italy had arrived in Herne Hill. From the white and pebble stone walls, to the large pizza oven at the back and the friendly Italian chatter between the chefs and their happy - but very busy - wait staff, it was easy to imagine yourself not in South London, but in a bustling back street of Naples (the only area of Italy I have ever actually visited).

Look at him go!

The menu consisted of 10 pizza options and side salads. A specials board offered starters that ranged from a bowl of olives to mozzarella hidden under a layer of cured meat. Tempting, but not quite hungry enough for a first course and pizza, we instead went straight to the main event opting for an Ortolana (For di latte cheese, peppers, aubergine and basil) and Capricciosa (For di latte cheese, artichokes, mushroom, ham, olives, basil and tomato) pizza with a Pecorino side salad. All topped off with a bottle of red wine. Naturally. 

Our table was positioned parallel to the open plan kitchen, so we got a great view of the chef (who we assumed to be Pellone) creating the pizzas. We sat mesmerised as he worked each piece of dough into a uniformed pizza. Casually tossing it back and forth, decorating it with the required toppings and sliding into the wood oven. Each pizza took a matter of minutes or create, but then I suppose if you've been doing it for over 40 years you'd have picked up a trick or two along the way on how to save time.

It was fascinating to watch. As well as catering to all of the orders of the seated customers, there were also people popping in for a take away. I asked our waitress how many pizza's must Pellone make in an evening. She could only hazard a guess at "hundreds". Certainly not an exaggeration, as in the time we sat waiting he got through a whole rack of dough which we roughly calculated must have made around 70 pizzas. Just in the time we were waiting. Which was only, like, 20 minutes. If that!

A big pizza pie!

When the food arrived I was glad I held off on a starter. Forgetting my tape measure, I can only hazard a guess that it was at least 15 inches. Thin base, nice fluffy crust and so much topping: Pellone's pizza did not disappoint!

As we ate, we "Ooh-d" at the sight of the calzone being brought out for another soon-to-be satisfied customer. Definitely on my radar to try next time.

In true Italian dining style we talked lots and ate slowly. Good job too, as the pizza was so big we needed time to digest and try to find space for that little bit more. Too tasty to leave, we managed to finish both pizzas and the salad.

To top it all off, the price at Pizzeria Pellone is extremely reasonable. Our total bill came to just £35, including the wine.

Feeling fully satisfied we managed to roll ourselves home in a mild pizza food coma.

Just. ate. so. much. pizza. Will sleep well tonight! @PizzeriaPellone thank you for a fabulous meal.

— Rose Crompton (@RoseC_Leic) November 18, 2015

If you want a mid-week, good feed outdoors, then definitely pay a visit to Pizzeria Pellone in either Herne Hill and now Croydon.

*Its been recommended (by my husband) that I clarify my overall dislike for crap, cheap take away pizza. He calls it "a vendetta", whereas I simply call it a willing refusal to put shit in my mouth. 

Also, sorry for not getting a photo of the actual pizza. I was too busy eating and enjoying it to remember to take a snap!

Speed Scrabble | 9/100

I bloody love Scrabble. I'm pretty average at it, but I love it. Sad thing is, it's so rare that I get to play. Mostly the husband gets frustrated with me putting low score words on Triple Word squares, or blocking them off entirely. I swear to geez, it's only because I don't have anywhere else to go. But because of that, he's reluctant to play that often. Also, games do end up lasting for hours, because we're so competitive and neither of us wants to lose to the other.

Granted, when you're playing for hours on end it can get a bit tedious. So I set myself a challenge. To play a game of Speed Scrabble during my lunch break.

I played on Facebook using the Scrabble app thing on there and fortunately got paired with someone (a randomer) who seemed keen to play fast too. 'Dots' followed 'Drag' followed by 'It'; we were steaming through the words, maybe not always with the highest point score, but the pace of the game kept it interesting.

'Squaw', 'Rex' and 'Brows' all made an appearance as we chewed through the digital tiles, me keeping one eye on the clock chasing a 222 point score. A passed turn and exchange of tiles meant I got to edge a bit closer.

Then BOOM! We were down to the last tiles and the score was 232 to my 227. It got to that stage of needing to get rid of all the higher point tiles, but we were both so limited to where we could put them. I managed 'Vogue', before she pipped me to the post by getting rid of her last few tiles in one hit.

Final score: 270 to my 263. Defeat, but fun. An interesting way to spend a lunch hour for sure.

The Infinite Jukebox | Day 8/100

You know that thing you get when you're listening to your favourite song and you think, 'Damn, I love this song so much, I wish it never had to end,' well the Infinite Jukebox is the answer to your I-need-more-than-repeat-button prayers.

When I said to a couple of friends that work in IT that I would love to discover some more fun and interesting websites - because there must be more to the Internet than Twitter and Facebook, right? - this was the first site they both suggested.

In a nutshell, the Infinite Jukebox lets you stream a song of your choice and it will find a way to continually loop it. It works by breaking songs down into beats, then matches up rhythm patterns in the song, so as it's playing it will jump and take different pathways to (hopefully) seamlessly move to different point in the song.

Once you've picked a track, the beats and paths are put into a visual diagram, so you can watch to see how it's all linked. Very clever and even more is explained about how it works on the site's FAQ's. There are controls too, so you can play a part in dictating the movement of the song, but I'm not sure I've played with it enough to appreciate what the benefit of these controls are.

As a music lover Infinite Jukebox totally appealed, so I sat picking songs and watching the tracks on my lunch break. It's pretty addictive.  

I tried a few of my fave tracks out on it. First up, Nirvana's Lithium. Love this song so much I even walked down the aisle to it. Works well, but you do kind of get caught in a 'Yeah, yeah, yeeeeaaaah, yeaaaah' Kurt loop.

Gnarls Barkley Crazy worked really well and I ended up listening that to a full nine minutes before it started to drive me a bit nuts. But it's a good example of how the app works.

For a challenge, I thought I'd stick in Korn's Twist. Yeah, it doesn't cut it. If you're able to listen to it for more than a minute and a half without wanting to punch the screen then you've done well. Infinite Jukebox manages to turn it into a little bit of torture as John Davis gets stuck on one bit. It's the same with Scatman John. Just don't do it to yourself.

Heaps of fun though and very mesmerising to watch. Play with the Infinite Jukebox here.

Crime drama done the Italian way | Day 7/100

Today's original plans got thrown out of the window early on. This was due to an ill husband that needed a day indoors and, to be honest, I wasn't adverse to the idea of having a lazy stay-inside Sunday either.


Between the snoozing, chocolate eating and sticking the washing on, we watched Montalbano, an Italian crime series about a detective called Montalbano. It's a bit like Midsommer Murders, but sexier because it's Italian.

Montalbano. Not to be mistaken for a Mitchell brother.

The hubby came across the series after spotting it on iPlayer months ago, so he's been slowly working his way through it. I tune in now and then, but it's not totally my cup of tea. I can't look at Inspector Montalbano without thinking that he looks like the third Mitchell brother that never was. There's a lot of sex in it and gratuitous scenes of hot Italian women undressing for one reason or another. I'm 90 percent sure that's not why my husband watches it and he does, in fact, enjoy the entertaining storylines.

Still, if you're looking for something a bit different to watch, don't mind subtitles and crime dramas are your thing, then check it out. Mostly I enjoy trying to pick up new dramatic Italian phrases.   

James Bond 'Spectre', was it any good? | Day 6/100

I don't feel that there are enough James Bond Spectre reviews out there, so I'm adding my own. Sticking it on here is also a quick way to answer all of my friends at once that have asked, "Is it actually any good?".

The only way to watch a James Bond film, IMHO, is at the cinema. It's one of the few film franchises that can actually convince me to pay money to go to and see it. I'm a sucker for seeing an action film on a big screen and full sound. So, in that sense Spectre ticked all of the boxes and it's totally worth going to see.

The action sequences were immense. No doubt about it. One thing Spectre did especially well was explosions. I mean, Sam Mendes blew some serious shit up on epic proportions. While some of them were obviously CGI'd (well, you can't actually destroy MI6 for the sake of a film!), one of the key scenes used 33kg of powder explosives and 8,418 litres of fuel and was awarded the Guinness World Record for being the largest explosion in film history. It lasted over seven seconds! (See, interesting.) Definitely worth going to see it just for that, because you will sit there and be like, 'Holy crap. That was massive and so very cool.' I bet whoever got to push the button will forever remember that as their best day at work. Ever.

In terms of plot line, yeah I'll roll with pretty much what ever other film reviewer has said. It's not as good as Skyfall. In places, Spectre's story was a bit weak. The main twist, which is revealed kind of early on and then repeated several times just to make sure you understood it, seemed rather far-fetched and unnecessary. I liked that Skyfall revealed a bit about Bond's largely unknown family past, but they should have left it there rather than trying to dig further, the result feeling like it's clutching at straws to reveal this big family secret. Honestly, it felt desperate and is a plot line more suited to a  TV soap. It didn't need it.

Apart from that, it was good. Plenty more cliche, cheesy Bond stuff in Spectre, compared to the last three, that will keep you smiling. Lea Seydoux, who I'd only recently seen for the first time in The Lobster (highly recommend), was brilliant. As was Ralph Finnes, as the new M. Didn't know how I'd feel about that, because Judi Dench was a legend, so replacing her would be tough. However, I loved Finnes in the role. Great fit.

Only other gripe with Spectre was the theme tune. The radio stations I listen to don't have it on their playlist, so seeing it at the cinema was my first time of hearing it. Sorry Sam Smith, I thought you did a bad job with this one. If someone was to ask me to sing it to them, I wouldn't be able to. It's not stuck at all.

So there you go. Definitely worth a watch at the cinema, but enjoy it for the action rather than any big Bond plot and you'll leave the cinema feeling satisfied that you've seen a good film.

Kinky crafting | Day 5/100

During this challenge, I'll try and keep sex stuff to a minimum. Main reason: because it's practically work for me and the idea of #100DaysOfInteresting if to find cool stuff to do outside of work. However, I was lucky enough to head to the Sexpo UK exhibition and came across a fab company called Kink Craft. It is exactly as it sounds. Crafting to create kinky items.

With crafting being totally trendy right now, why shouldn't there be a kinky version of it? The Kink Craft leaders invited me to take a seat and make my own mini flogger (that's a type of bondage whip for anyone that's not in the know). I thought, 'why the hell not?! I've never made my own flogger before, so lets find out how!'

With a sprinkling of BDSM magic, by the time I unblindfold you these bits of rope will transform into a flogger!

I was given a bundle of rope and told that using simply this, some tape and a craft knife, it will become a flogger. Andrew from Kink Craft got me started and then I was away.

Like with any crafting, it was wonderfully therapeutic. I sat around a table, with several other crafters and we chatted and helped each other as we snipped the tendrils and wove our flogger handles. So very civilised.

Weaving the handle was the most therapeutic part.

I was super impressed with the end result! The colour will match my other bondage kit nicely (ahem). Also, there's still get that proud feeling like when you craft anything. But the funny thing is, it's not the kind of crafting item you'd whip out at your next family do and say, "Oh yes, I've taken up the hobby of creating bondage accessories in my spare time." Then again, that's what made me love it more. It totally appealed to my naughty side.

Ta-da! Remove the blindfold and the rope has been transformed!

If you fancy doing some crafting with a kinkier edge, then you can actually buy the kits, with full instruction video, here and make mini and large floggers, or your own pair of cuff restraints!

Follow me on Twitter and use the hashtag #100DaysOfInteresting to keep up with my challenge and activities.    

How it feels to look at your own wedding photos for the first time | Day 4/100

I love looking at photos. I'm a great fan of actually getting photos printed, organising them into an album or frame and then revisiting them a month or two down the line. I like the feeling of happiness you get when you remember a particular occasion. And while the instant that's caught in the photo is one thing, it's all of the other little memories about that moment, day or complete period of time that it prompts which is more fun or interesting to remember.

So when my husband and I got to see the photos from our wedding we were fascinated and enthused to relive the day. It was interesting to see the result of what our wedding day looked like to someone that wasn't a friend or part of the family, but from the perspective of our photographer and we're glad to say that the vision he caught was exactly as we remembered and experienced it.

Our reactions to some of the photos were interesting to say the least. Especially any shots taken before the service as we'd not seen each other, so the photos really did speak a thousand words, prompting each of us to relive what was going through our respective minds at that point.

I could have easily poured over every photo for long periods of time, but with over 300 of them to look at and the sheer excitement of seeing what was there, what was next and what had been immortalised from the day in image, was so exciting that it was tough to linger on each one for more than a minute or so. Looking through your own wedding photos is easily as thrilling as experiencing the day unfold first hand.

Apologies that this was a bit of a sentimental #100DaysOfInteresting challenge, but you only get that feeling of seeing your wedding photos for the first time, once. So I wanted to put it down in words as best I could.

A swift batch of bats | Day 3/100

Behold the amazing result of what happens when I spend half an hour in the kitchen! That's right. I baked those bat-shaped biscuits which is, I appreciate, hard to believe since they look so damn professional.

Ok, I'll stop kidding myself now. Really though, I'm pretty proud of them. Despite getting an A* in my GCSE food tech, I rarely ever cook or bake, so this is an achievement for me. It's also only the second time I have ever attempted to make bat-shaped biscuits. My lovely Aunt, who likes to send me funky things in the post, found these bat biscuit cutters. For those that don't know, bats are totally my most favourite animal in the world, so this gift was much "Ooh-d" at when it arrived through my door.

My first attempt at cooking a batch of bat biscuits was a bit of a failure. I used self-raising flour (as per Paul Hollywood's Mum's recipe), but they all came out of the oven looking fat and over-weight. This time I took my husband's advice (as he's the better cook) and used plain flour. Think the definition is much improved and they look more like what they're supposed to.

In case you're wondering, they're ginger biscuits and they taste fabulous....as you would expect from an A* food tech student.

The chosen few: the bats that turned out the best. 

 

Gazing at Gargoyles | Day 2/100

I cycle past this ugly brute every day on my way to and from work. When stopped at the lights, he is by far the most interesting thing to look at. I like the way he sits on top of his tower, glowering at the thousands of impatient, ashen-faced London city workers. Almost like he feeds off their bad moods. Mostly, his hellish, sinister look very much appeals to the goth in me.

Curious to know who he is and why he's there, I thought I'd make getting a snap and doing a bit of research my challenge for Day 2 of #100DaysOfInteresting.

The Cornhill Gargoyles

Turns out that the chap sitting ominously on the roof isn't alone. He's got two mates and collectively they're known as The Cornhill Gargoyles, or The Cornhill Devils, aptly called because they are found in Cornhill in London. Whether it's because I have bad eyes, or only have time enough to glance at the obvious, I can honestly say I never noticed the other two before.

How they got there and why seems somewhat murky. Starting with the actual, solid facts, I can tell you that they're made of terracotta and they are dated to the late 19th century. The story of why they are there is much harder to pin down, but if the most popular theory is to be believed then it's a story of religion, anger and revenge...

From whence the Devils came

Look closely when on Cornhill and you'll spot a spire. It's matched in size by surrounding buildings and dwarfed by London's many tower blocks, but it's there and it's the spire of St Peter's Church. Before modern London took over, St Peter's stood proud on top of Cornhill, one of only two natural crests within the city. The other is Ludgate, where you'll find St Paul's.

As the need for more offices in The City increased during the 19th Centuary, any tiny area of land was pounced upon and redeveloped. The result was that St Peter's became engulfed by commercial buildings and the church, much to the Rector's dismay, was vanishing from sight. 

He was, however, eventually rewarded with a small win over the developers. As they tried to build closer and closer to the church, the rector eventually spotted that one architect had gone a step too far as his design infringed upon church property. Kicking up a stink, the rector was found to be right and it was demanded that the architect redesign the whole building. 

Devil images, taken from lookingforghosts.wordpress.com

It's said that redrawing his plans cost the architect dearly in both time and money. Furious at this, he added to his new plans the inclusion of three devils as a mark of revenge. They were placed on top and at the edges of the building so they'd be a constant reminder to the rector of his meddling as he walked to enter the church. It's even thought that one of the devils was modelled to look like the rector. Public mockery in its most scathing form. 

So there you have it. The urban myth and as much actual fact as I could dig up on an evening. They are well worth a look though as they are (just about) the most terrifying gargoyles I've ever seen. 

Follow my challenges on Twitter using #100DaysOfInteresting and tag @RoseC_Leic. If you're keen to try it yourself, or simply want to share something interesting you've done, get in touch. 

Interesting paper that flies | Day 1/100

Until this evening I had never made a paper aeroplane. Sounds like such a simple thing I know, but for Day 1 of my #100DaysOfInteresting I wanted to do something that I never achieved as a kid.

At school I remember we did an afternoon of origami with a supply teacher. I was terrible at it. My ability to patiently fold paper with accurate edges and keep up with the teacher's instructions, was poor to say the least. We were trying to do something slightly more complex than an aeroplane, but not quite at the level of a swan. Maybe it was a frog? Either way, I was useless at it and resorted to concertinaing my paper into a small fan, because that was about all I could manage.

Skip a few years and now aged 29 I thought it was about time I faced my origami demons and at least give it another go. Start simple, so a paper aeroplane was the challenge.

Find a style

Ok, so I had no idea that there were so many different styles of paper aeroplane. I assumed there was just the one standard model and they all kinda flew the same. Well, the things you learn! So I started with this one...

And my attempt turned out like this...

Looks wise, not a total disaster for a first attempt. But on flying, it seemed to want to keep veering right. Maybe only any good to fly on roundabouts. 

My husband then piped up with, "Ah, I'll show you how to make one," (had a feeling this interesting thing would pique the interest of my male housemates!) so followed his instructions and it turned out like this...

We'll call it the 'Tucker Tornado' and flying wise it was impressive, managing to go the full length of the corridor. 

There was time to try one more, so I picked The Dart. Apparently it's the 'fastest paper airplane'. Well, how could a gal resist making such a high-tech piece of aerodynamic paper on a Monday night?! Here's how to make it...

And here's how mine turned out. Not a bad resemblance, huh? Flying wise, it went well. It was fast, but didn't go quite as far as I hoped it would.

I could have quite easily have kept going as there were some cool looking designs, but I think I would have been rushing my origami skills with some of them. 

Interesting Paper Aeroplane Facts

To round off the first challenge of my #100DaysOfInteresting, here are 3 interesting facts about paper aircraft...

• The longest flight time a paper aeroplane has achieved is 29.2 seconds. For those readers that reckon they can beat it, you can actually upload videos of your attempt here. 
• According to this site, the smallest paper aircraft measured just 2.5mm x 1mm. That's tiny. How could you even launch it?! With tweezers?
• According to one news source, the oldest paper aeroplanes are over 100 years old and were discovered in the eaves of St Anne's Chapel, Barnstaple. 

100 Days of Interesting: the idea

I've been in a right slump lately. There are a few reasons for this, the main one being a continued bad case of post-wedding/post-holiday blues. Naff weather, long commutes, a heavy workload and the general week-to-week routine that consists of get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, wash dishes, go to bed have also contributed.

I know, I know. That's just life and sometimes you can't avoid routine, but I think there is certainly more I could be doing to make the weekly grind a little less....structured. 

I suppose until recently I've been totally preoccupied with wedding planning. Or in the summer months it's easy to find fun things to do. Simply sitting in the park with a book for half an hour qualifies as having successfully done something that's a little bit interesting, a little bit different. And while me and the husband enjoy lots of interesting things at the weekends (dinners out, cinema, theatre, gigs, catching friends, visiting family), we sort of just settle that not much happens during the rest of the week. 

Thinking about all this the other night I concluded that I all too easily waste hours of my own time sitting in a funk doing very little, and decided I needed to do something about it. Something fun. Something achievable... 

So I am setting myself a challenge: 100 Days of Interesting.

The premise is simple. Each day I will do something a little bit different. Something out of routine. It could be as small as discovering a new website, snapping a photo of something that interests me or taking a different route to work. Or it could be something bigger like attending a free lecture, trying a new cooking recipe or visiting a different city. 

While I'm dedicated in getting all the mandatory daily routine stuff done, I should also be proving to myself that I can be just as proactive with my downtime. And who knows what new stuff I might discover along the way?

I'll be starting the challenge on Monday 9th November and finish it (funnily enough) a hundred days later on Tuesday 16th February 2016. I'll be blogging and tweeting (@RoseC_Leic) all the stuff I do, using the hashtag #100DaysOfInteresting. 

I can't promise everyone will find every little thing I do massively fascinating, but at least I'll be doing something.

Until Monday. 

RoseC   

Reading is such a novel-ty

What I wished my bedside table looked like, because I have soooo much time to read.

How do you find time to read? Because honestly, I just can't manage to do it and this frustrates me. I'm not talking about flicking through a magazine or newspaper to catch up on features, or the news. Every morning as the free press is thrust into my hand I'm able to read. Or when my phone flashes because the news app I use has decided it's got something important to tell me, I'll scan it over.

I can manage that, daily. Here I'm talking about actual reading. The kind where you sit for hours curled up quietly at one end of the sofa while the rest of the world goes about its business. That kind of reading.

During my uni days I'd be able to chew through books like they were going out of fashion. These days it's possible for me to count on one hand the number of books I can get through in the last 12 months.

Recently, I had a taste of what it felt like again to be able to sit and read uninterrupted with no other distractions. It felt good and I raced through a book in under a week that ordinarily would have taken me over a month to get through. To achieve this, I was sat for several hours a day on a warm beach, in a foreign country and without consistent access to wifi.

As well as enjoying a good book, it was also an actual pleasure to sit next to my partner, each of us enjoying our respective novels, pausing only briefly to update each other on dramatic plot points. I love being able to read in the company of my fella. It's one of a few activities where you can enjoy each others company in silence and separate, but still feel like you're doing something together.

Apart from on holiday, the only other time we get to indulge in this pastime is before bed, but 90 percent of the time I end up ruining the moment.

For a lot of people, delving into their book before bedtime is an ideal opportunity for getting through a few more pages. it's a good way to relax, unwind, everything else stops. The perfect time to read. Unfortunately for me reading at night is as good as taking a whacking great dose of Nytol. I can be out for the count within a page. Most nights I try to read, but the outcome is so predictable that it's become a running joke between me and my partner that I'm unable to manage more than a few pages before my eyes start to get heavy and the words my eyes are skirting over become a blur.

So bedtime reading is out. How about that hour long each way commute you make every. Damn. Day. Or all those train journeys you do?

Motion sickness. Five or 10 minutes in and I begin to feel like changing the colour scheme of whatever vehicle I'm riding in. It's the eyes down position and not being able to see where I'm going, so instead I glare at other commuters that are able to stick their noses in their good books to alleviate some of the anguish of the morning commute as they disappear into their fictional worlds. Lucky sods.

I'm fast resigning myself to the fact that I'm to become a weekend-only reader. A part time book fan that's destined to be excluded from all book clubs, because she can't finish a novel in the allotted time. Honestly, these are the things that worry me these days.

RoseC

This year's theme: England V Australia

Before I get into the meaty bit of this post, I need to give you some background into mine and my partner's ethnicity and interests. He's Australian and I'm British with a more specific tinge of English. We're both quite into our sports, mainly cricket and rugby. I'm sure, from just that small amount of information, you can hazard a guess as to what's coming next...

As a kid the main sports I was brought up on were cricket and rugby, with a little bit of tennis thrown in there for good measure. I remember watching The Ashes on Channel 4 and listening in on Test Match Special with my Dad; cheering on the tennis stars with my Mom; tuning in to all of the 6 Nations, Autumn Internationals and Rugby World Cups with my family to support British contenders and England teams. We can surmise that I was brought up with a healthy competitive streak and in at least two of those sports, two of the greatest rivalries happen between England and Australia.

Unless you're totally and utterly not into sports and never glance at the back pages, you'll be aware that there's a lot of England vs Australia going on now and in the next few months. Currently, in the cricket, England have just beaten Australia in The Ashes (an unexpected result!). In September, England and Australia are in the same group stage of the Rugby World Cup, along with Wales, making it easily the hardest group and is going to leave one of these three great rugby nations very upset indeed. Also in September Great Britain will play Australia in the semi finals of the Davis Cup tennis tournament. A stage that the GB team haven't reached in 34 years, so it's all to play for.

And in the midst of it all, a very competitive British girl is going to marry a very equally competitive Australian man. This sounds like a recipe for disaster, right?

In the five and a half years we've been together we've both seen each other scream, cheer, laugh and sit in grumpy silence as we've watched the highs and lows of our cricket and rugby teams, tennis and snooker players. Sport is probably the only thing that can bring us to the brink of an argument. Funny then that the fixture calender has brought around so many clashes between England and Australia right before we get hitched. Fate is a twisted bitch sometimes.

While we try to maintain a good level of banter and communicate in a civilised manner during a game - five day test matches being our limit - there is always still a more serious, unspoken desire of, 'I really hope we fuck them up and win.'

Who knows where all this anger comes from? I think it's inherently bred into Australian's to want to 'screw the Pommey bastards' and vice versa. We're not at all jealous of the fact Australian's get at least 11 months of good weather and sunshine so they can actually get outdoors and play sports to become good at them, even though cricket is a gosh darn ENGLISH GAME, but there's a certain arrogance around Australian's when it comes to sport and beating the English in particular. Like they think we're an easy target. Guess it just makes it even more satisfying when we take them down *coughASHEScough*.

Geez, what a rant. I'm going to get myself into trouble if I'm not careful. To balance the odds though, here's an actual conversation that regularly happens between me and my other half whenever England are playing anything:

HIM: God I hope England lose.
ME: Why?
HIM: Because it's England. You should lose.
ME: But we're playing [INSERT ANY OTHER NATIONALITY EVER], you're not [INSERT THAT NATIONALITY] - and we both agree that they play dirty and you never cheer for them any other time ever - but you're about to marry an English girl, so why not give us a bit of a nod?
HIM: I can't. I just can't. It feels wrong.
ME: That's not a reason.
HIM: It is.
ME: It's not...
HIM: It is.

And so the sporting argument goes on. It's totally irrational, yet at the same time this unique rivalry would not exist without one firing up the other. To be honest, if it wasn't there, I don't think either side would get as much enjoyment out of it and I don't think we'd get the most out of each other if the passion wasn't there.  

It struck me as too ironic that in the year - hell, even more specifically in the months - surrounding our wedding there are so many clashes between England and Australia. So yes, maybe with passions so high, getting married in the middle of it all could lead to someone getting kicked out of the marital bed early. But at the same time, one without the other just wouldn't work. no matter how heated, stressed or tense it became, getting stuck in wouldn't be as fun and this years "theme" is proof of how strong a bond can be, however strained at times. So maybe it'll all be alright in the end and we need to remember it is only a game...  

Gwen & Gav?! Ah, that's sad news!

Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale have announced they've filed for divorce. And, as I'm only a month and a bit away from my own wedding, this news makes me feel kind of shitty.

Broadly speaking, I don't give much of a stuff when it comes to celebrity make ups and break ups. I put my lack of interest down to the fact that famous people change their partners far too often, so trying to keep up feels like a waste of time when the relationship is just a fad. While the internet was losing it's shit the other month over the break up of Ben Affleck and...[Google searches name]...Jennifer Garner with (sickening hyperbole) headlines such as 'True love is dead', I was still unsure as to when he got married? What films has Jennifer Garner been in that I've seen? And when the hell did BA split up with J-Lo?!

Ok, I jest on that last point, I'm not so out the loop, but I simply didn't care and don't care about most celeb couples ditching their other halves. Chris and Gwen, Louis and Nicloe and One Direction and Zayne, they all blinked past in a day's headline. This one though, struck a chord.

But why, Rose? WHY?! Well, I think it's a combination of things. I've been fans of both of them (musically over fashion) for years. I've had a crush on both of them for as long as I can remember and it's just kinda cool - in a totally fan girl sort of way - that these two cool famous people have got together and have managed to make it work for so long. It's not just a fad. Thirteen years they were together and they managed to avoid doing the shitty celebrity thing of forcing their relationship down everyones throats in a Kim & Kanye kind of way.

They are (or were) one of those stalwart celeb couples that even though you don't know them, you kind of think, 'Ah, Gwen and Gavin they're all together, super cool, and even though LTR's are effing hard work whether married or not, here's some extra proof that in this day and age of crazy fame and celebrity, there are still some still doing it'.

And then they're not doing it any more and it's a bit like, 'Oh'.

I'm not going all OTT dramatic. It's not like just because A couple that I don't even know have filed for divorce I've suddenly lost my faith in marriage, that would be crazy, but it's just a bit sad.

The silver lining, of course, is that these two beautiful people are now single and I literally have a wedding dress and a venue ready to go. Just sayin'.