(Yorkshire) Tea Bread

I didn’t make this with Yorkshire Tea, but I am based in Yorkshire so there shouldn’t be a problem with the authorities, should they get in touch. Some good news; after a couple of years of grafting, I’m pleased to report that I’ve been given a place on a funded PhD! It’s a joint project between the University of Leicester and the National Maritime Museum and I am so very, very excited. Did I mention it’s on prison hulks? It’s on prison hulks. It’s got to be the coolest topic in the world, am I right? There’s this stupid little children’s book called “Victorian Crime” that I bought in a charity shop in Hebden Bridge during my home-schooling years; it’s full of amazing pictures and snippets of kids on hulks or getting hauled in by the police and I was completely obsessed with it. From there, I went on to a phase devouring Newgate novels, followed by an adoration of a series of books written by Andrew Pepper about an ex-Bow Street Runner called Pyke. This whole PhD project is just filling my head with stories but I really can’t wait to get back to some proper academic work. 

Isle of Wight- The Garlic Farm

Here’s the deal: the MA is extremely time consuming. I’m having to read about 12 articles per seminar a week, which doesn’t sound like much but if you actually try to take everything in and make notes and all that jazz like I’ve been doing, it’s a long process. With PhD applications in and amongst everything else, I’m posting up two articles that I wrote last summer after I graduated. Those days were so warm and sunny, it’s nice to remember a bit of sunshine...

If Julie Andrews was forced to sing a song about my favourite things, I think she’d have a hard time. Garlic, cream and olive oil don’t rhyme very well. Plus they’re a cholesterol nightmare, but who cares? The magic properties of garlic are supposed to help with that.

My friend Lawrence lives on the Isle of Wight. With University finished and an expanse of a holiday before us, not to mention Lawrence dying of boredom on the Island, a road trip was in order. Cue a four-hour train journey to the sunniest depths of Warwickshire, where Roger and I drop in on Maddie and her equally mad family.  After meeting her lovely little stroke-riddled pooch, Buddy, Maddie then gave us a tour of her collection of grumpy horses before we finally met Grace, a big-eyed tubby sheep, blissfully remaining under the delusion that she’s a dog. After stopping to say hello, she followed us around the field, prompting us to continue scratching her big curly butt with a nudge using the full force of her big, warm sheepy body.