Beer. Beautiful beer.

I can't stop thinking how lucky I am. I got the longest holiday season I've ever had. 

This year was the first year I spent Christmas away from the family and while it was hard to be away for the most special time of year, I got to spend it with the man candy for the first time in 3 years. Also, thanks to Skype, I got to be part of Christmas breakfast and Christmas lunch with my family. I also got to enjoy the beauty that is Boxing Day. Oh Boxing Day sales...so many bargains with less shoving and shootings than Black Friday. And then, when everyone was back to the grind, I got a second holiday season at home in Colorado with the family, snow and all. 

When I got back to Manchester and everything settled down, Richard and I focused on perhaps the most important part of our lives: beer. Being the devoted girlfriend I am, I surprised Richard with a Valentine's gift that would benefit the both of us for years to come. That's right, Richard got a brewing kit. So with the first useful bit of science I've ever done, we got to work brewing some beer. I loved watching the massive tub of brown water evolve over the coming days to a bubbly, foamy mess. But while our special brewers yeast was doing its thing, we decided to extend our beer research to Bruges, Belgium to see how the experts do beer.

Our goal of the trip was simple...we were to drink as much good craft beer we could get our hands on. And I'd say mission accomplished! We found the oldest pub in Bruges (which dates back to 1515), visited another pub boasting over 400 different types of beer, only ate foods with beer in the recipe, and visited the local brewery, De Halve Maan (Half Moon). 

I'd like to take the time to say that Richard and I have both visited countless brewery tours in Colorado, but visiting a brewery that's over 100 years old is quite a different experience. We were told that Bruges had 128 breweries within city limits before WWI. Because copper was required during wartime, all the breweries had to give up their brewing equipment to make ammunition. During the war, Bruges was occupied, but the fields where they grew the barley and hops were not. With military checkpoints everywhere, an underground system had to be created to get the precious brewing ingredients into Bruges so brewing could continue. After the war, only one brewery remained: De Halve Maan. None of the other breweries could afford buying all new equipment to start over again. 

Another fun fact? Beer deliveries by dogs. The brewery was the only place in town with a refrigerated room. The barrels of beer would be delivered to bars in the early morning with an ice block to keep the beer cold through the day. Early morning deliveries would be done by horse-drawn carriages (convenient, because if the delivery men wanted to have a drink or 7 along their route, the horse would know the way back to the brewery and the drunk delivery man could pass out and wake up back at work). But in the heat of the day, when bars had run out of beer and demanded more, it was too hot for the horses to go back out. The solution? They built carriages that ran along the railway lines pulled by German Shepherds. Something tells me dog delivered beer tastes better, but this hypothesis is yet to be tested. 

Coming back from our beer excursion was unhappy to say the least, but luckily we had another beer excursion to look forward to. Richard and I ventured to Ramsbottom, a town outside Manchester, to visit pubs and breweries with our friends Jonny and Schadia. We tried as many beers as possible, again, and stayed in one brewery for a good 7 hours. I'd say it's been a pretty good trip and our research has turned up the best result yet: All beer is delicious and we must continue traveling and tasting. 

As our beer sits in the closet bottle conditioning, I can't wait to start experimenting with our own ingredients and seeing what we get. In the meantime, in Richard's words, we'll keep traveling for food and booze. Because what other reason is there to travel?

100 words minimum on what I did last summer

What. A. Whirlwind.

And I'm not talking about tornadoes for once.

After the meltdown I call my Viva, I think I earned a few months of something completely different. I am fortunate enough to have an advisor who doesn't mind me taking all my vacation, conference, and summer school time away at once...so off I went to channel my inner jet setter.

First stop: Bristol. I've mentioned the Bristol summer school on my blog already, but my first trip away for the summer included plenty of time walking around, watching some wildlife, looking at beautiful scenery, and seeing Gromit (from Wallace and Gromit) dressed up all around town.

Second stop: Manchester Airport to pick up Mom and Dad! People ask me all the time what it's like to live so far away from friends and family. In a word, it's awful. The beauty is that my parents now have the perfect excuse to holiday in Europe! We had ourselves a blast roaming around Manchester, Liverpool, Chester, North Wales, and Stratford-Upon-Avon...which brings us to....

Third stop: Amsterdam. My sweet parents dictated that, although I'm legally an adult, I was not allowed to visit Amsterdam without them. Good thing they got their cute behinds over here quickly...I wasn't going to wait forever! We got to tour the canals, see Ann Frank's house, eat pannenkoeken, see the red-light district, and witness the outdoor urinals. Most of all, we got some quality time with my amazing parents. That, my friends, is priceless!

Fourth stop: Scotland. When my parents left town again, I had exactly 36 hours to sob like a child before heading up north to the Isle of Arran for an atmospheric measurements summer school. The views were astounding. The wildlife was beautiful...we saw sea otters, seals, golden eagles, jellyfish, red squirrels, red deer, and the elusive haggis. I did learn a lot too: sleep deprivation causes some serious cases of the giggles, all food can be yellow if you cook it just right, whisky (Scotch) is absolutely delicious, and it's dangerously hard to distinguish seals from rocks sometimes (or all the time for some of us...). Upon returning, I'm very glad I went, but I don't need another 2 weeks without sleep, ever. I guess I should never have kids right??

Fifth stop: After a quick week home, Richard and I celebrated the year we both turn 25 by going to Tuscany. If you've seen any of the pictures I posted on Facebook, you know the theme of our week-long trip was eating. Oh Italian food...I will never look at you the same way again. So divine...and magically I lost one and a half pounds on the trip. How is that possible?? A full week's relaxation and enjoyment was the perfect close to the summer and start of the autumn.

In my short interludes in Manchester, I enjoyed spending a full hour a week on horseback, improving my seat and jumping higher than ever (90 cm, which translates to 3 feet. There WERE expletives yelled, but I survived to jump another fence) with the most fabulous riding instructor. Seriously, Hayley, getting me from scared of jumping to 90cm fences in a few months...you're a miracle worker!

So what's on tap for the new term? Well I suppose I should do some research, perhaps some TAing, definitely more horse riding, and of course the hilarity that comes from an American living in England.

Watch this space...

The Lost Student

I love lists.

I love making lists. I love ticking things off my lists. I love putting small things ("Check Bank Balance") as well as big things ("Write Paper") on my list. I love putting things on lists that I've already done just so I can tick them off. You get the picture.

Recently, I had two big tasks nagging me on my To Do list: First Year Report and First Year Viva.

In essence, every year of the English PhD culminates in an approximately 75-100 page report and a defense of that report...including the usual ragging you get from your professors at a thesis defense. As Richard can attest to, I spent 4 cranky, stress-filled weeks straight with no weekends preparing both the report and the viva. How did they end up?

Both. Were. Horrible. We'll cut to the chase...I don't know what I should know at this point, my advisors made that point painfully clear and continued on to bash the two papers I'm working towards publishing, and I ended up sobbing in the bathroom.

This was one of the only times ticking tasks off my To Do list was unfulfilling.

Now I realize that life in the PhD world is not rainbows and ponies (okay...maybe there are ponies in my fairy tale) and that your advisors are put into your life for the cold, harsh reality that is the scientific world, but man this experience broke my confidence. I reacted so strongly (either to my horrible writing or the criticism, or both) that I woke up with the stomach flu the day after my viva. The day after that, I was sent off to summer school in Bristol for a week.

I am not going to lie. My mind was elsewhere in an anxious, self-doubting place. I was seriously questioning my ability to complete a PhD. After our lectures were done each day, I wandered through Bath and Bristol wondering if I could just see the beautiful sights without having to endure the agony of academia. I felt completely lost.

In fact, I'm still not completely sure I'm capable of completing this PhD. I do know a few things about myself though.

1. I work my hardest and do my best when people don't think I can succeed. Seriously. If you ever want me to do something, just say, "Hey Kelsey, I bet you can't......"
2. Very few women graduate with PhDs, especially in the sciences. I accept that challenge.
3. As much as I moan and groan about how tedious and annoying science is, I get immense joy having conversations comparing American, British, and Spanish severe weather...and that passion is what got me here in the first place. So I guess I can't hate the weather that much can I?

So what's the verdict? Well I've already made my next list...

• Read. Get up to date on the knowledge and blow my advisors out of the water.
• Work more effectively, play more effectively. That will make me better prepared to work every day and better prepared for my papers, reports, and vivas. And it will make me less cranky when I'm with my friends, family, and boyfriend.
• Take criticism to mind, not to heart. Note what needs to change and move on.
• Write a blog post about what I've learned from my viva.

Letting Go

When I turned 12, my dad convinced my mom to get me a horse because girls who are into horses are too busy to be into boys. I proved that I have plenty of time for both.

While I was in love with Toby and his incredibly bouncy trot from Day 1, he was definitely not so in love with me. He would buck every time I put my leg on him, was terrified of barrels (ruining my rodeo dreams in the first week I had him), refused to cross any ditch or stream or bridge, ran for the hills every time I came into the field to catch him, refused to get in the trailer, bolted away from trot poles, and spooked at his own shadow almost constantly.

With time, my riding became much better (well, it had to otherwise I would have been killed by this maniac!). My trainer began calling me sticky butt because somehow I would magically sit Toby's shenanigans. Eventually, Toby began to trust my judgement and was less of a pill, but he has always maintained a bit of unpredictability. Of course, we had good days and bad, but he began to love our rides and time together. Or maybe he tolerated our rides only because there were carrots and apples waiting for him at the barn.

Either way, we became partners and fell in love. I would say Toby was my first true love with all the ups and downs that brings.

I was lucky enough to keep Toby through my undergraduate and master's schooling through a series of leases by some wonderful women, including my horsie mother, Martha. That meant I could come home on vacation and ride Toby as if I was never away.

But last week, the time finally came for Toby to find a new family to torture/love. I've grown too tall for Toby and my leasees have moved on to bigger and better things. It's not fair to Toby to hang around for the once or twice a year I come back to visit him (oh...and I guess I visit my family as well). Thanks to a Craigslist miracle, Toby's found a new family with 5 kids and 2 other horses to love on him day in and day out.

From what I've heard, Toby hopped straight on the trailer, calmly hopped off, and has been following his new pasture-mates around. He lets the kids hop on and pet all over him. I'm still convinced they picked up the wrong horse.

While I'm still heartbroken and tear up thinking about letting Toby go, I'm so happy for my sweet boy. I hope his new family (and the 5-year-old girl who has claimed herself as Toby's new owner) learns as much as I did on Toby and that Toby has a wonderful, long retirement. Here's to you, Toblerone!

(Here's Toby at his new home)

10 Reasons you should LOVE Puffins

Richard and I got the chance to go to Bempton Cliffs, a sea bird sanctuary, a couple weeks ago. This is a trip I have looked forward to since before I moved to England. Why you may ask? Every year from May to July, puffins take to the cliffs to breed before heading back out to sea. We got to see the puffins fishing during our cruise on Saturday and got to see them flying in and out of their burrows from atop the cliffs on Sunday. Puffins are definitely one of the coolest birds and in true BuzzFeed fashion, I will try to convince you to think so too!

1. Puffins are expressive little clown birds of the sea, penguin at the bottom and parrot at the top. Just look at their faces and little orange feet. What's not to love?

2. When they aren't breeding at the cliffs during the summer, puffins live at sea and rest by floating atop the water when they're not fishing.

3. Baby puffins are called pufflings.

4. Puffins rock at swimming and can dive down to 200 feet to nab some fish, using their wings to swim like penguins do.

5. Unlike penguins, puffins are great in the air too, flying up to 55 mph!

6. Pufflings live their first 3-5 years of life at sea before they start breeding on shore.

7. Puffins mate for life.

8. Puffins can hold a dozen fish in their beaks at one time.

9. They're quite loud and talkative during breeding time, but when they go back to sea, they're silent for months.

10. Puffins believe in joint parenting and working households. The male puffin builds the nest for his mate. The female lays one egg a year and she and the male take turns sitting on the egg while the other goes fishing.

Under the Northwest England Sun

There are some events in life that are too rare to miss. Studying abroad. Solar eclipses. The Colorado Rockies making it to the World Series. Last weekend, it was the coincidence of Richard being off work, the weekend, and sunny weather in Northwest England.

So, naturally, on Saturday we took the train to Kendal in the Lake District to go for a wander. Keeping with tradition, Richard and I got lost trying to find the beginning of our hike. We decided to hike up the hill to see Kendal Castle, a 12th Century Castle that was once home to the family of Queen Catherine Parr, the sixth wife of King Henry VIII. So we had a casual picnic lunch in a castle. Just another day in England...

After lunch, we found a walking path along a river outside Kendal. We found blankets of wildflowers and beautiful scenery. I'd say the pictures speak for themselves!

Sunday was a gorgeous day as well and I competed in an unaffiliated show where I take lessons. I was lucky enough to ride Rose, the sweetest mare I've met. Unfortunately for her, I wasn't quite used to her tiny stature, short stride, and tendency to squeeze one extra stride in before every jump. We only knocked down one pole in the competition. For a horse I had never ridden until the day of the competition, I'd say we did really well.

Quite the fun weekend, and a sunny start to a rare sunny week in Manchester.

Life in the fast lane

Saturday was a new experience for me. I drove on the left side of the road for the first time...legally.

Emily, a fellow American horse lover, agreed to go to the western part of the Lake District to gallop horses on the beach (Thanks, Groupon!). Unfortunately for me, I didn't do enough transportation research before buying the Groupon and booking our date. While there is a train station in the tiny village of Silecroft, the train times are sporadic, require many changes, and the latest time we could leave the village to get back to Manchester would be during our ride.

Whoops.

So we had to get a rental car. No big deal as it was cheaper to rent a car than take the train anyway. After figuring out which side of the car I should get into, we hit the road. The first leg of the journey was on the motorway. As long as I remembered to pass on the right, everything went smoothly. And then we reached the country roads. Now, in the US, country roads are glorious, easy, winding roads that make for good conversations and decompression after a long day. In England, they can cause heart attacks. The country roads are as wide as two cars, if the side view mirrors are touching each other and the ancient stone walls on either side of the road. And they're full of complete maniacs.

You can imagine my surprise as an Audi came careening around a blind corner at 70 mph in my lane! Needless to say, Emily and I were a bit on edge, uttering obscenities, and praying to any god that would listen that we would survive this experience. And by "this experience" I am referring to the car ride, not the horses. The horse riding would be easy-peasy compared to the driving stress!

Once we made it to the stables, we had a glorious ride down the beach, hooting and hollering our horses on as we galloped along the waves. We had ear to ear smiles the whole time. The rain even let up for the two hours on horseback!

At the end of the day, we made it home safely. I only drifted to the right side of the road once in the travels, but not to worry, both humans and car made it back to Manchester intact. It may have been a stressful journey, but it was definitely worth my moustached horse ride on the beach and the beautiful scenery of the Lake District.