3-spoon wonder

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It is always either a pleasure or a horror to go through old photos on Facebook. Also, one of the best ways to avoid the mountain of work awaiting to consume you.

I stumbled across a particularly random-not-so-random one¬†yesterday¬†—¬†the beauty above is of one of our classrooms back in the Department of Built Environment in the University of Nottingham. I think it was one of those droopy Autumn afternoons when the room¬†quickly cleared after an especially long lecture, and I found a quick second to capture the light outside.

I¬†suddenly¬†realize¬†that¬†I¬†don’t¬†attend¬†lectures¬†as¬†much¬†anymore.¬†I¬†only¬†give¬†them¬†now. To students and subordinates at colleges and construction sites.

I may finally be a grown-up.

Winters in Nottingham are not harsh, but bone-chilling. It’s wet and¬†damp at times, and slippery. But altogether enjoyable if you like a spot of snow, red winter coats and woks of mulled wine with housemates. Yes, woks. Our grad-student frugality didn’t allow for too many deep-bottomed pots or pans.

I wish I had spent more than just two winters in the city. She doesn’t have the jazz and glamour of London, or the cheery disposition of Swansea or the ancient-ness of Edinburgh. But Nottingham was home, at a time when I learnt from my Italian housemate how al dente pasta should actually be. Or exactly where to find perfectly sauced doner kebabs at one in the morning.

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