Just Like Christmas

It’s impressive how easy it is to slip back into the house; it’s been four days, and it’s like I never left. I’m stealing Bonnie’s chips, watching Neighbours, fixing computers, and putting a fez on top of the Christmas tree. And yes, Bonnie has threatened to kill me many many times. Only some of which were deserved, I swear.

Bonnie and Dad are now fighting over the cherries. It really is Christmas.

Anyway, a merry Christmas to all my readers. Will be back in Durham next week, but London on Monday!

and now the plug: My Zepto.js book is apparently on sale for during the holidays, if you fancy it - just $5 at http://bit.ly/1jdCr2W! Hey, I have to get it in where I can…

I Hate Chocolate

That is all.

(Okay, I will probably return to it in the New Year, once we’ve both had a bit of a break and I don’t shout ‘TEMPER, YOU PITIFUL EXCUSE FOR AN EMULSION!” at random hunks of chocolate as I walk by them in the supermarket.)

The Weather Outside...Isn't Frightful?

26˚C in the middle of December is just wrong. Unfortunately, while it has been that hot here in Durham, there’s been ice storms in Texas (!), so Stacie is currently stranded there until further notice. Hopefully she’ll be back in time for the chocolate weekend of doom next weekend (orders at falloutdurham.com close on Thursday!), and manages to get out of the airport today.

Not much to talk about at the moment, sadly; I’m winding things down and packing for my return home in two weeks, making checklists for the upcoming chocolate marathon, and so on.

Instead, I’ll leave you with the TATE MODERN IN GINGERBREAD. YESSSSS.


(I would resize it, but then you’d lose the wonder)

Black Friday Again

I intended to pass on Black Friday. I had nothing to get. Or so I thought until I noticed a gaping hole in one of my trousers earlier this week. That broke the floodgates, ending up with me going to Chapel Hill Comics and walking out of Target with three seasons of Community (hey, $8 each! That’s a good deal, right?). Oops.

I am getting into the Christmas spirit by watching The Wild Geese. Nothing says Christmas like British mercenaries being double-crossed in Africa. Especially when it’s Richard Harris, Roger Moore, and Richard Burton. I feel like I should be drinking something with it though.

Thank you everybody who has ordered from Fallout Durham so far. Still a couple of weeks left to get your order in! Tomorrow, we begin making some of the orders in so far. In particular, tomorrow, we make around 7kg of peppermint bark. For a single order. It’s going to be a long December. And I may hate chocolate by the end of it…

The Eyebrows Will Rise

I don’t have too many childhood anecdotes about watching Doctor Who. I started watching during Dragonfire and saw it through till the end of Survival. My Doctor tricked the Daleks into blowing up Skaro, eliminate the entire CyberFleet with a sentient weapon used against its will, and manipulated the life of his companion just to take a shot at Fenric. I like to refer to the Seventh Doctor as Bat-Doctor. Always a few steps ahead, sometimes even ahead of himself.

It’s odd, really. During that period, Who was slung against Coronation Street by Michael Grade as part of his (rather successful) campaign to take the programme off-air. I always thought that revenge came a few years back when the Christmas episode of Who came top of the day’s ratings, destroying all the usual soap stalwarts, including Coronation Street. But this weekend was something else - a simulcast across the planet of an odd old man in a blue box, a blue box that ceased to make sense about forty years ago. And yet, is now more famous as a shape of a spaceship than its temporary use for policemen. Everybody got to see The Day of The Doctor at the same time. Or, if you were watching it via iPlayer, you got to see it at 30 second intervals, making it last two hours rather than an hour and fifteen minutes.

It was vintage Moffat - all plot, a smattering of character, fun and japery involving the Doctors, a few surprises here and there (THE EYEBROWS), and a surprising redefinition of the Doctor after the special; a ret-con that left everything previous in place. And a fez. I couldn’t really ask for more, except for being home in the UK to see Eleven turn into Twelve. Or is it Twelve into Thirteen? I don’t really know any more…

Inbetween Days

November is running out and there’s still so much more to do. It’s actually been quite cold for some of this week, colder than the UK, even, but tonight and tomorrow, it’s going to be 21˚C. Crazy scenes.

I’m trying to get some things organized before the year runs out. While I didn’t have time to complete my Hoefler & Frere-Jones-inspired, fully-responsive and buzzword compliant version of Fallout Durham, I can say that we’re likely to be ready to take orders in the next couple of days - just a few last tweaks and tests left. Secondly, I’ve started work on my second book, Scaling Node.js, of which the beta ebook should be out in mid-December. For all your Node.js scaling needs! If you have some, that is…

Meanwhile, the most important thing this week:

We have a Christmas tradition that makes my mother frown every year. Since I was about 18 or so, my sister and I have hijacked the top of the Christmas tree. It used to be an angel, but over the years, our tree has been topped by protesting Domos, Dory from Finding Nemo, a Heffalump in a bridal outfit, and much more besides. We’ve been racking our brains for what to do this year when the answer came to me last night. This year, of all years, it could only be this:

The Fez!

One more week, and it’s Thanksgiving. Two years since I was living it up in Santa Monica…

Indefinite Leave To Remain

There’s no better way of celebrating of receiving confirmation that immigration restrictions have been lifted than sitting down and spending most of the weekend reading David Peace’s Red Riding Quartet is there? I was feeling homesick, so I read over a thousand pages of despair, misery, and murder. Last time, it was Watching, which at least was supposed to be a comedy.

Anyway, yes, I have a new green card, all conditions removed, and it makes things more permanent. Of course, buying a house whilst under the possibility of facing deportation was probably not a great idea, but it seemed likely that I’d be allowed to stay. Hurrah for that, then.

And to welcome me into the ranks of America, we then had our mower stolen. As well as other things which cast something of a pall over the week, but oh well.

Despite all that, looking forward to being back home at Christmas. If Bonnie doesn’t kill me for being too FESTIVE. But you can never be too festive!

79 Piedmont

Durham Station is a game of two halves. There’s the waiting area, a fancy newly-built hall hollowed out from one of the city’s copious old tobacco warehouses (the tobacco may be long gone, but the infrastructure left behind has been a great boon to the city centre in many respects), and then there’s the platform, a single track with little shelter in a downpour, no signage of any kind, and all in all, it makes Haddenham and Thame Parkway look like Euston Station. At least Thame can spring for a on-track noticeboard as opposed to train delays being communicated by whisper and rumour.

So, yes, in my infinite wisdom, I decided to take the train to Charlotte for my trip this weekend. I looked at the Megabus but thought that a Friday night would see me get caught in traffic, and flying would just have been silly (though I ended up doing it quite a bit when I was flying out to LA a couple of years back). And besides, I hadn’t taken the train south before. What could possibly go wrong?

Two hours later than planned, and somewhat wet, we finally boarded the train. As much as I give Amtrak a hard time and needle Americans about the state of their railways (come on, I’m British - we have to hear everybody in Europe laugh at our rail network - when the shoe is on the other foot, it’s only fair), their rolling stock is pretty impressive - a hulking (if sometimes short) arrangement of bright shiny silver steel, almost comically oversized.

(and somewhat roomy. The train I’m on right now seems to be missing a row of seats in every aisle. Seriously, you could double the occupancy of a carriage and still have more legroom than you would on an average coach plane seat)

Unfortunately, arriving two hours late in Charlotte meant that I didn’t have time for any of the planned activities that night. And my meeting on Saturday morning got cancelled too, so there was nothing else for it. It was time to up sticks and go to South Carolina.

It turns out that Columbia, SC is only an hour away from Charlotte, and that’s where Tammy moved back to after she finished her course at Duke earlier in the year. So she came up to give me a lift and I ended up spending most of the weekend in a completely different state, being given a guided tour of her and Robert’s house that ended when dramatic cats became more interesting, a dinner party full of Yorkshire puddings, roast potatoes, but a horrifying lack of HP sauce, several hypnosis attempts, oh, and most importantly, my first ever hands-on experience with an iPad Air.

(kidding! It was a fun weekend, and we somehow managed to make enough food and in time for everybody turning up, along with also making two different types of hot chocolate. It’s almost like it was planned. It’s also great to meet people who have an even worse book problem than I do. It’s useful having a list of names you can give out to make yourself look better after Christmas when you’re hauling about ten hardbacks across the Atlantic. Er, yes.)

Meanwhile, it’s still daylight on my return trip back to Durham, and I can at last see he scenery. Lots of road, mainly, though some some nice views of old, seemingly abandoned farmhouses by lakes. Look closer though, and you can see cars parked outside. Must get cold in the Winter.

Old warehouses with spur railway lines that run parallel and merge with the main track, but overgrown and sunk into the ground. How they used to live.

Running through the subdivisions old and new, the trains coming in to see the rear of cities, the parts they hide from the cars and the roads. New developments, established suburbia, Main Street with a queue for people waiting to get lunch on a warm Autumn day. The train moves on, into industry, junkyards, concrete mixers, old tobacco factories with their huge chimneys, now transformed into offices that work on clouds. Next stop, Durham Station…

Open Things

I’d like to start by directing you to the left hand side of the blog (providing you’ve come in on the front page, I guess). Yes, it’s a list of my books that you can purchase from all good retailers. Currently, it’s just Instant Zepto.js, but who knows what the upcoming months will bring (well, I suppose I do, so don’t get too excited, but something might join it there eventually)?

My first conference as a proper tech person this week - All Things Open, a celebration of all things Open Source. The most surprising part of the conference? That the most interesting talk was given by a Microsoft employee. Who’s also the current President of the Apache Software Foundation. That he was British was also a surprise, but not quite as the presentation itself, which was a thirty minute talk that left you feeling that they’re trying hard to be friendly with the Open Source movement. In any event, it was better than the rah-rah-we’re-awesome keynote provided by Google. Anyway, it was a good day out, and I even managed to find another beer that I can drink. The common property of these beers seems to be including a lot of fruit (so far, strawberry, raspberry, and apple seem to work).

I’ve also been testing out a new chocolate mold, a prototype I’ve had laser-cut from Ponoko. I want to offer a ‘flight’ of chocolates for ordering this Christmas (because nothing signifies a hipster chocolatier more than calling a sampler a ‘flight’, does it?), and for that I want a way of making lots of bars quickly. So the mold is little more than a block of acrylic with rectangular holes punched up of it, but it works pretty well.

caramelized hazelnut bark

Never serve Neko Case Tabasco sauce. Ever. Consider this a pubic service announcement.

And yes, somehow I ordered twenty-four packs of ramen today. I’m planning on hibernating this winter, obviously.

Cruise Control

Cruise control is really nice. That’s what I’ve learnt over the past weekend of being behind the wheel again. Also, despite saying that not being able to drive in Britain means I’m coming in as a somewhat blank slate, I still managed to drive on the wrong side of the road at some point. Oops.

(thankfully, it was at least a quiet road)

As for the weekend’s main activity, well, it was mostly baking, borne out of Tammy asking the question: “Where do you get good pie in Durham?” and then deciding to make it ourselves. Below we have a modified chocolate chess pie, a mincemeat tart with homemade mincemeat (somewhat hampered by Americans not having the right ingredients available, but oh well), and an attempt at a Heston Blumenthal lemon tart. All turned out pretty well, especially the mincemeat and chess pies, which I made using a Pierre Hermé pâte sucrée recipe. The lemon filling of the Heston tart (complete with blowtorched sugar!) is wonderful, but the pastry doesn’t quite work. Next time I’ll just make it with the Hermé dough.


Interesting things going on at work, but the magic armour of NDA is applied to all of them. Though I think I’ll be explaining closures in JavaScript in the weeks to come…