How to be a geochronologist - Part 1

I thought I would do a post explaining what I've actually been up to in Canada in terms of work, as I'm aware it appears that I do very little geology. I'm going to start with some of the lab work I've been up to, and what happens to the rocks after I collect them in the field, and what answers I'm trying to get out of them. But don't worry, I won't bore you guys with the in depth account of my research proposal and why I'm doing this particularly project (although my proposal is a good read!). 

Basically a previous study of these rocks had found some pretty interesting geochemical characteristics in the rocks (the ones I collected from California in December) that we weren't expecting, specifically to do with the ages we were getting from the analyses. The parts of the rocks that we typically get ages for rocks from these days are excruciatingly tiny minerals (definitely <1mm) like zircon and monazite. These minerals are surprisingly tough little blighters that form in molten rocks that pop up in the earth's crust, and are then found in rocks like my granites. During their lifetime they are very good at recording the chemistry of the magma around them, as well as picking up signatures of other things that happen to them, like if they get attacked by fluids deep underground or up at the surface. Using fancy equipment we can measure the chemistry of these minerals and figure out what happened to the minerals, and most importantly, when it happened.


As I said, these minerals are tiny. You can't see them in the rock with your eyes. You may be able to see them in the microscope if they're big and you're a hawk. So how do we get them out of the rock and in a state where we can measure them? Well...

You get your rocks, of which there may be a couple kilograms of chunks like this,

Using this array of metal slabs, nuts, washers, ethanol and tools,

Dolled up in a dust mask, safety glasses and ear protectors, you submit your rocks to a number of medieval torture methods...

Splitting (put the rock in between these two teeth and squeeze until it breaks into smaller chunks, if the US Postal Service haven't adequately broken up your samples for you),

Crushing (use big metal plates that move towards and away from each other to crush the rocks into chunks a couple of centimetres big),

Milling (use two rotating disks to grind the rocks down into a sandy powder),

Using the terrifyingly named "Pulverizer",

Quartering (to split your sand sample into 4 representative portions,

And then sieving to get rid of the coarser material and the finer dust (that volunteer job working with aggregates did come in handy afterall!).

After all this dusty manual labour, which involves a lot of heavy duty duct tape and brown paper, you are then ready to do some science! The zircon and monazite grains we're after are all about the same size as the rest of the sand grains. But how do we then separate out the <5% of grains that we need from everything else? Well helpfully zircon and monazite are largely denser than most of the other stuff in the sand. So using the "heavy liquid technique" we mix our sample with a really dense chemical called methylene iodide and thanks its density...

The lighter stuff (quartz, feldspars and micas, that we don't want) floats to the top (where all the grey crap is),

And the heavier stuff (zircon, monazite and garnet if it's there) sinks to the bottom, where we can tap it off and move onto the next step,

All the while rocking the lab coat, safety glasses and latex gloves look, that at least makes you look more like a scientist than a construction worker.

You can then separate out the good stuff even more by using the Frantz magnetic separator. By this point we've already removed the actual magnetic stuff with a big hand magnet, but all the stuff that's left is paramagnetic and dimagnetic which means they can still interact with magnetic fields but in different ways. This big ol' electromagnet takes advantage of that, and by varying the strength of the magnetic field and/or the slope of the chute you can separate out the zircon and monazite, and anything else that's still knocking about.

You set the kit up with a bit of arts and crafts skill. The sample (a couple grams worth of tiny minerals in my case) goes in the funnel to top right,

And passes through the electromagnet and splits down the shoot into two fractions, which we then collect in our weighing paper boxes.

From here the process involves physically picking the grains and putting them on a mount, which we can then put in one of our analytical machines to get our geochemical and geochronological data. Now, may I remind you again that these grains are very small! It takes a bit of practice and a lot of concentration to be able to use the really fine tweezers to pick up the grains and move them. Especially as monazite tends to shatter into a million pieces if you squeeze it too hard. To help keep focused and to prevent being spooked by any sudden noises I tend to blast carefully constructed playlists of classic rock that I can sing along to. This approach has largely succeeded, and my singing is very effective at keeping people out of the lab!

Big fancy microscope,

With a wee dish containing one of the fractions separated out before, mixed with some ethanol to make it easier to pick grains up.

Camera attached to the microscope helps with identification. The golden brown grains are typically monazite, whereas zircon, found in one of the other fractions, is completely clear and typically with pointy pyramid ends.

Once located and picked up with the tweezers grains are moved, whilst trying your utmost not to drop them, to another microscope,

Where they are placed carefully onto super strong sticky back tape on the mount,

And after a picking a few hundred garins begins to look something a little like this. That little red bar is 1mm in size. I told you these things were small!

After the grains are on the mount they are coated in epoxy and polished down to make the final mount. This is the stage i am currently up to; I'm waiting for some new epoxy to arrive and then before you know it we'll be shooting lasers at the grains and getting data out of them! Well that's the plan anyways. I will write about the next stage of the process when it happens and I have some pretty pictures to accompany. Until next time y'all...

Avalonian adventures

A while back I had the selfish feeling that other than meeting wonderful people over here and having fabulous times with them, I hadn't done very much in Newfoundland that I couldn't have done anywhere else. The response from a friend was (quite rightly) that firstly, it had been winter, a major issue when it comes to going anywhere in Canada. I have since learnt that the moment a bit of sunshine appears Canadians take full advantage and cram as much into that precious time as possible. 

Another limiting factor to my travel plans is that I can't drive. Therefore I don't have a car. And public transport doesn't take you further than the city bounds of St John's. The train service stopped in 1988 (I never thought I'd miss the trains...). My complaining had clearly galvanised the group, and within the week one friend decided to overcome these obstacles,hire a car and plan an adventure.

Bell Island is a wee (and by wee I genuinely mean it; it's 34 sq km) island off the Avalon Peninsula in Conception Bay. It's a place that you're told you only have visit the once, but seeing as the iron mine tour wasn't open when we went, I'll likely end up going twice. Setting off in our little city car, which we named Myrtle, we headed to Portugal Cove to catch the ferry. Filled with excited expectations of a good weather forecast our hope were initially dashed when ...

...we were greeted with the foggy view those from Newfoundland are all too used to.

After a quick tea break we boarded the ferry and hoped for the best and thankfully we were not disappointed.

We left the fog behind and forged on into clear skies.

And Bell Island came into view.

We left Myrtle along the tracks on the SW corner of the island,

And walked along the coast gazing into the tropical looking seas and the sedimentary successions that get the 6th floor geologists all riled up.

We found the "Bell" (stack to the right) and the "Clanger" (stack to the left) and proceeded to our lunch spot (off towards the right of this photo).

With the beautiful view we had we settled down for a wonderful lunch of pasta salad, chocolate wafer straws and beer. Eventually we decided to go have a look at the rest of the island. And by that I mean that we drove round its entire perimeter and went to see the lighthouse...

...where we showed some expert timer and panoramic skills,

Before heading to Dicks' famous chippy for the best fish supper I've had this side of the Atlantic (more of my views on Newfoundland food in another post).

Eventually we decided to return to the mainland (still an island I know) and take the long route home taking in the scenes from a variety of different towns along the way.

This included a tea stop at the end of the day at Pouch Cove (inexplicably pronounced Pooch). 

The weather carried on for a few days after the car had been returned and the sun has been nice overall for the last few weeks now. That was until of course the Bank Holiday weekend that is. Normally the "May 2-4", where Canadians simultaneously celebrate Queen Victoria's birthday and Queen Elizabeth's official birthday, is the first big camping weekend of the summer. The weather however was naturally horrific.

Nonetheless on the Monday some of us decided to drive out to Cape Spear, a place I had also been complaining about not having visited, as it's literally down the road from town. And when better to visit the most easterly point in North America than on a wet and windy miserable day!

The hood was very much necessary.

The waves roared up and crashed on the Torridonian-esque rocky shoreline.

A WWII gun battery installed to defend the St John's coast.

I've visited the most westerly point of mainland Britain and now the most easterly point of North America :)

Having spent 4 years in St Andrews, moving to St John's has made me go cold-turkey in terms of beaches. These hard rocky coastlines aren't too conducive to making lovely 3 mile long that charecterise East fife, but the do exist in places such as Middle Cove, just to the north of town. This was the site of my first beach BBQ in Canada. Armed with wood, marshmallows and sausages we met up at the beach and got our fire started, helped by the surprisingly flammable kindling of Doritos. The beach was full of other people who had the same idea and as the sun went down we were encountered a firework display, a fire dancer who earned a round of applause from the crowd and even a Star Wars reenactment with light sabres. 

The gang chilling with a few beers.

Bratwurst on the BBQ

Stargazing and chilling by the fire (gutted I was caught on my phone!)
Photos stolen from the wonderful Edgars Rudzitis.

Summer is just beginning here and long may it continue to be beautiful. Last year was incredible in terms of temperature and sunshine, whilst the year before was awful and rainy. A happy medium would be good for me. After all my pasty complexion can't take too much sun! Either way I'm happier in the fact that I know I will have fun with my friends and I'll get out and see more stuff all over this island I now call home. But wait, aren't I supposed to be doing a Master's right now?..

Identity Crisis

I was asked tuther day “Where are you actually from Stacy?” That’s not been an uncommon question for me over the last 8 months. Having an English accent in Canada begs the question. My responses typically vary and while trying not to be condescending I often just simply respond with “England”. Lots of people then tut and say “Well duh, I knew that”. I have to start big as I have actually been called Australian since being over here, much to my confusion. I then start to whittle down the English geography and respond from North West of England —> Lancashire —> Halfway between Liverpool and Manchester —> Skelmersdale (which I rarely reach). I assume that nobody knows where anywhere in England, or the United Kingdom actually is. And why should they, I am only just getting to grips with Canadian geography, and I’m still only at the provincial scale.

Alternatively I have had people say “Oh, I thought you were from Scotland because that’s all you talk about”. My time spent there and my love for all things north of the border clearly hasn’t gone unnoticed. This got me thinking about where I actually associate myself with. While for other people I know this is a legitimate crisis, spread out over the global scale, my relatively local allegiances are still varied and eclectic. The nostalgia that I get for the places I’m associated with are principally expressed as sporting teams that I cheer for, and my vernacular vocabulary. And I don’t mind having a diversity of ‘nationalities’. (It spreads out my chance for sporting success!). But I thought I would reflect on the places that have shaped who I have become. (That was unexpectedly soppy…)

To me Skelmersdale is the crossroads that merges several local cultures and diverse accents. Geographically we are situated in Lancashire, and are served by West Lancashire County Council. However we have a Wigan based Postcode. And we are mainly populated by former residents of Liverpool, as our wee Norse-named colliery town was expanded to to house the overflow of people from Merseyside. Anyone with an appreciation for these Northern nuances will understand my identity confusion.

Liverpool is my football team. Forever and always. I joke about allegiances to various teams, but this one is one of my die-hards. You’ll Never Walk Alone will always be a song and a motto that I adhere to, creating strong bonds with the millions of LFC fans globally and meaning I am a true friend to those I care about. Feeling part of the Liverpool community is particularly important every April 15th, with the anniversary of the Hillsborough disaster. JFT96 and YNWA are emblazoned across social media. It also transcends team rivalries. This event affected Liverpool as a city, and further afield. We may hate the Mancs and Evertonians but for this, we stand united. In summary, I’m a Scouser, just without the phlegmy accent.

Showing my Liverpool pride with the Champions League Trophy

The city itself is one of my favourite places too. Where else would you get  Superlambananas?

Wigan has probably had more of an effect on my accent and culture, mainly due to proximity. It’s easier for me to get to Wigan than to Liverpool, and I went to college there. Wigan Warriors are my rugby team too, and being a season ticket holder for 4 years means that some of the most exciting and impassioned moments of my life so far have occurred wearing the cherry and white hoops, sitting in the South Stand of the JJB Stadium. I also love steak and ale pies, which is an entry requirement for calling yourself a Wiganer.

Cherry and Whites on a stadium tour.

I've been waiting for an excuse to show this shot of Chris Ashton (now of England Rugby Union Fame) being the extravagant player that everyone now knows.

The Lancashire connection is mainly reserved for pissing off those from Yorkshire. I never really felt the Lancashire connection in Skelmersdale. It was only when I was selected to shoot for Lancashire at archery that that identity came in. It’s not the same as those from Lancashire-proper like Preston, Lancaster and Burnley, who also retain the accent, but we can all unite to antagonise those from across the Pennines whilst eating a Hotpot. Red rose til i die.

The beautiful river plains of the Lancashire Lune Valley

Scotland is where it gets interesting. My mum’s family are from Fife, the wee peninsula that is host to the University of St Andrews where I did my undergraduate degree. Like my Gran was, I was very proud to be representing the family at the local prestigious university, although upset that the local connection not providing me with any scholarship money! Numerous family holidays to Scotland over the years meant that I was aware of my Scottish heritage and I had embraced it before I started studying there. I think the fact that I studied Geology in Scotland is an important part of my view of the country. Some of the best moments and most incredible views i have seen have been in the hills, valleys and coastlines of Scotland. Having a deeper understanding of these incredible landscapes has strengthened the bond, and while I wouldn’t be audacious enough to say to a proud Scotsman that I myself was Scottish, I am always quick to point out my many connections to the wonderful country.

Ardnamurchan peninsula looking north towards the islands of
Canna, Rum and  Eigg (L-R)

Beautiful autumnal views from Ben Nevis looking towards Fort William.

I was born in Cardiff, Wales, but was only there for 6 months before we moved up north. Again family holidays and trips around Wales have allowed me to learn about the fabulous country and its people. I find Cardiff itself a wonderful city, with a fabulous castle and a stadium that has provided me with some great victories. While I feel that I am not truly Welsh, I am a great admirer of those who are.

At Llanfair PG, the village in Anglesey with the longest name in Europe and one of the longest in the world. One day I will learn how to pronounce it.

Being English is the undisputable identity that I possess, and of that I am proud. I have been lucky enough to travel to a number of towns and cities throughout the land thanks to my dad’s job as a courier. Years spent sitting in the van and staring out of the window experiencing different parts of the country has been a fabulous opportunity. That is in no way saying that I am done exploring the place. My UK Scratch Map will not scratch off itself! It was only when I went to St Andrew’s that I had the resource to visit the Lake District on a regular basis. Despite being the next county up from Lancashire I had never visited it before. There’s many places yet to go, and the next chance I have I will seize it.

Derwent Water below Catbells in the Lake District.

I fortuitously managed to explore the south east this summer, so i walked the White Cliffs of Dover!

The bucket term for all of this drivel, is that I am British. It is the best way to incorporate all the different loyalties I feel. The question in geology of “Are you a lumper or a splitter?” is pertinent here, and I would say that it is circumstantial. All I wish is that calling myself British is not a dilution of who I am, and calling myself a Wiganer is not a disservice to the other influences on my life. And who knows, maybe in a year and a half when I'm addicted to Tim Horton's and ice hockey I'll start trying to call myself Canadian as well!

The armchair expert

As I have mentioned in previous posts when I'm not learning about rocks, I am feeding my other obsession, sport. Thankfully I've managed to meet some other sporting fans residing on this island and while they have started out largely as football and hockey (ice as opposed to field, I am in Canada after all) I have opened their eyes to some wonderful British sports, including rugby, cricket and darts. 

With all this sport watching I have become even more opinionated than I used to be, but perhaps now with a bit more knowledge to back it up. So instead of regaling these opinions just to the select few who can put up with me and live sports, and the unfortunate people in the pub who overhear my not so quiet voice, I thought I would put them on t'internet for the world to not read. 

A few disclaimers before I get into my opinions. The majority of these opinions are inflated for (intended) comedic effect and if you really asked me seriously whether I thought Gareth Bale was a wanker, I would probably concede that chances are he's a nice bloke. Actually on second thoughts...

Also, a bit of context for you. My regional and national support varies largely with sport and the teams involved. In rugby league for example, I'm a Wigan fan, who hates the "scousers" from St Helens. In football however I am a Liverpool fan born and bred who hates the Mancs and pretty much everyone else. Being a proud Lancastrian native of the north, I have a natural distaste for rugby union. However since having played it and realised that it's not just a game of tennis for posh southerners, the Six Nations has become an integral part of my life each year. In said tournament I am (mainly) and England fan, however fickle allegiances exist with Wales (the country I was born in) and Scotland (where my Mum is from and I spent 4 of the best years of my life). 50% chance of winning then technically.

Furthermore most of these opinions have been discussed at length over a pint (or several) with my wonderful sporting friends. To those people, thanks for putting up with me and sorry for stealing your thoughts. And thanks to the Duke of Duckworth pub for showing the games and supplying us with yummy food and tasty beer.

Finally, British sport fans are notoriously fickle, and there is no way I can get out of that one. I'm in no ways a glory hunter, and I will always stick with the teams that I have come to support. However opinions can and often do change radically between games or even within a game. Just embrace it and don't call me on it, it's easier that way. But I do encourage you to comment on my views. Just don't take them too seriously, that's not what this post is about. And now, to business.

Football

Liverpool

• I love Brendan Rodgers. The way he whistles loud enough that you can hear him on the commentary. The way he makes you think he's writing down notes for his half time talk, but you know he's really filling in his betting slip because "it's all about the in-play". The way he gives beautifully eloquent press conferences. Oh and the way he manages LFC. He's pretty good at that too.
• Players that have converted me during the course of the season: Jose Enrique (believe me Stef!), Lucas (used to hate him, now he's brilliant), Henderson (to some extent, God loves a trier, and purely for the look on his face after he scored that volley)
• Players that need to work to earn my love: Joe Allen. I don't know what he does. And it's not helped by every time i hear his name in commentary I think of this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzypOnklG60). 

The rest of the league

• Man U have played awful this season, but are somehow on course to get their biggest points haul. I don't get it. And I'm genuinely not just saying this as a Liverpool fan. Of course that factors in, but it's not the main point.
• Back in the day I had a soft spot for Tottenham. In the Harry Redknapp days. When they weren't a threat to Liverpool. I am a fan of AVB. I am NOT a fan of Gareth Bale (and there I shall leave that one). 
• The Belgians are taking over. Hazard. Fellaini. Vermalen. Benteke. Kompany. Lukaku. Vertonghen. Mignolet. Dembele. They're going to win Euro 2016.
• Chelsea fans are fickle spoilt little brats. Leave Benitez alone. Leave Torres alone and then let him go back to Spain so we can see him smile again. YNWA.
• I keep forgetting Reading are in this league. Piss off QPR (sorry Harry).

England

• We do not have a god given right to be good at football (or anything else that we do for that matter; Imperialist mindset still?) England are a mediocre football team with good but by no means world-class players. Rooney has never turned into what he should've been. In my heart of hearts I can't say that Stevie G is one of the best midfielders in the world. Who else do we have?
• With the Montenegro game still in my mind, my gosh how we cocked that one up. Roy should've made changes in the second half. Welbeck did nothing, because he's a goal poacher and there was nothing for him to slot into an open net. Apart from Rooney's goal of course, they handed that one to us on a plate. Gerrard is not the player to drive us forward, he sprays the ball around to other playing running. But no one was running or trying to beat a defender. We never looked like scoring, but always looked like conceding. Who were we training up when we had Terry and Ferdinand as the central two?
• And while we're on it, San Marino should not be allowed to play in the qualifiers. It's no good for them being beaten 8-0 every game, the accountants aren't going to get better than way (and that's not me being disresepectful, there are just several accountants that play for them.)
  Let them focus on the GSSE, where they have every chance of winning stuff:
  (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Games_of_the_Small_States_of_Europe)

Rugby Union

• The Six Nations ended disastrously the other week. Well done Wales, you absolutely wooped us as the Millennium Stadium. And you ground out all your other results so deserved winners in the end.
• England, I hope you know what you've done. After two games everyone thought you were on for the Grand Slam. Yes we all got ahead of ourselves. But it was a relatively inexperienced side and they'll carry this chip on their shoulder from now on. Oh, and thanks to you I now owe someone dinner.
• Ireland were unfortunate in that everyone they needed in order to play well got injured. Unfortunately it was a bad ending for BO'D. Let's hope he gets a Lions spot to help ease the pain.
• Scotland keep on improving (sorry for the broken record). They scored 4 tries in one match! It was incredible. Watch out for Stuart Hogg. Boy is going to be something.
• France were a joke. The whole selection situation is a joke. Why you no play Trinh-Duc?!
• Go Italy! Although I'm sure they'll be gutted that they don't get a prize, having got so used to receiving the wooden spoon.

Other sports

• F1 - We're only two races in but last week threw up a controversy that will rage on for the season now. Sebastian Vettel vs Mark Webber. Yes Seb disobeyed team orders and it was a bit of a dick move. BUT they're race drivers ffs, let them bloody race against each other! If they go all childish about it and end up crashing out then they've only got themselves to blame.
  On a funnier note, Hamilton driving into the pit lane of his former team, HILARIOUS:  http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/formula1/21915618

• Cricket - England walopped India, then got screwed over by the Kiwis. Yes we should've done better against them, but it is always difficult away on tour, and to try and keep up such high quality cricket.  I didn't see any of it so can't really comment. The last test was a magnificent demonstration to my friends however of how you can have an exciting draw despite having played 5 days of sport. And it means I love Matt Prior even more now. Clearly not as much as Stuart broad though. Still, best batting wicket keeper in the world right now.

• Rowing - It's the Boat race this weekend! And I know I'm the only one on this island excited about that. But when else do you get to see posh buggers race down the Thames in tiny boats?! Watching the students getting pissed on Pimm's on the riverside is also quite fun. Maybe this year we won't have anyone trying to decapitate themselves trying to protest about elitism (his name is Trenton Oldfield...) Go Oxford!

• Rugby league - I haven't had chance to watch any of my beloved Wigan Warriors this year and that is deeply upsetting. Hopefully this will change on Friday when my day off school can allow me to watch the age old tradition of the Good Friday match vs Saints. Start to the season has been up and down, but we've had a couple injuries in key positions and we lost a load of experienced players last season. I'm not panicking and neither should anybody else. Wane knows what he's doing.

• Horse racing - Like most Brits I only care about horse racing when the Grand National is on, which happens to be next weekend. I'm excited as always, mainly to bet on the horses with the best names and or best shirt designs. Drink along for every time they allude to the horse meat scandal. Also it's a good excuse to get Claire Balding back on the telly. I've missed her post-Olympics. Thinking about it, I also miss the Olympic dressage (or horsey prancing as I liked to call it). Now that was the event where everyone became an armchair expert this summer.

There's plenty more I could talk about but I think I've sufficiently bored everyone now. I understand that sport isn't a big thing for other people and I'm fine with that. Just so long as they realise it's a pretty big thing for me. I shall leave you with something that I can always watch when feeling down. It's the gif that just keeps giving.

 

Til next time folks!

The 6 month review

I'm currently writing this blog from the pub. Unorthodox and risky, yes. But it demonstrates nicely how comfortable I am here. I swanned into the pub this evening on my own, calmly took my usual seat and switched on the TV to watch the Champions League football, before going to the bar, ordering a drink, with the barmaid already knowing my name for this evening's tab. That's how you know that you're welcome. Or that you go to the pub too often.

I am now ~6 months into my stay across the pond. 192 days ago I embarked on the most exciting thing I have done in my life. Last week this milestone was brought to my attention at our regular Thursday night Pub Quiz fixture. As my friends sat on the opposite side of a long table facing me, I questioned if this was an interview. "Yes Stacy, this is your 6 month friend review" they replied. Cue massive sentimentality and deep reflective thinking, and hence the reason for this blog edition.

When I asked my friends for their evaluation of me, I was very happy to hear positive responses. "Excellent drinking buddy" and "Good person to bake bad cookies with" were some of the comments. This raises some important points. Firstly I have been fortunate enough to make some fabulous friends over here. Way back in September I ended up being brave enough to join the other Geologists for lunch, and then brave enough to turn up for the Pub Quiz at the Grad Student pub. Two excellent leaps of faith. For some reason I made a good enough impression that they kept me around. Or maybe they couldn't really get rid of me. Either way, I'd like to think people round here quite like the loud English lass.

Now I have mentioned the pub a few times already, and as with any good geologist, it is an integral part of my life. Not necessarily important for getting hammered as was the case back in 1st year of undergrad, but more as a vehicle for hanging out with great people. On Trivia Thursdays or football Saturdays /Sunday /(Tuesdays /Wednesdays /Thursdays when European footy is on) I will likely at Bitters or the Duke of Duckworth. Defining quotes from my time in the pub that come to mind are: 
1) my friend saying "She's not shouting, that's just how she is" when I was asking the Trivia hosts a question, and 
2) myself saying very loudly in a very English accent "Don't be silly!" when Wayne Rooney attempted to gain a penalty in and undifferentiated United game.

One of my favourite events of my time here though has to be last week, when I officially became a Newfoundlander. I was "Screeched In", an age old tradition and ceremony to welcome honorary Newfoundlanders. I had somewhat bided my time doing this; everyone else who turned up in September had already done it. But that just meant that all attention was on me this time! A geology night out turned into an impromptu Screech In. And boy am I glad that's what happened. As the photos demonstrate...

I had to eat some form of reconstituted meat...

I had to kiss a frozen cod...

I had to do a shot of Screech (Newfoundland Rum)...

I had to recite the phrase "Deed I is me old cock, and long may your big jib draw!" 
and then I was officially called a Newfoundlander!

Just some of the fabulous people that have helped me along the way.

Away from the drink related things, I want to say that I am very happy that all this is happening in Newfoundland. Culturally its so similar to the UK thanks to its Irish connection, so not much of an adjustment has had to be made. There are things I miss about home indeed (other than the family and friends of course). The way they pronounce the word aluminium. The fact that tomato paste comes in a tube. The rugby being shown on TV. But I have enjoyed adjusting to my new life. St John's is a great place to do it. Downtown is colourful and awesome even in the miserable fog and rain. The snow has overgrown its novelty factor by the slushiness it leaves behind, but it still makes me excited when there's been a fresh fall overnight. The sight of Signal Hill across the harbour will never fail to make me smile. The rocky landscape reminds me very much of the Scottish Highlands. When the weather gets nicer I will get out and explore this wonderful island some more.

One of my favourite spots Downtown; The War Memorial, Jelly-bean coloured houses behind, opposite the Harbourside Park.

 Very much like East Sands in St Andrews, I will never tire of this view.

On top of that my Master's work is pretty awesome too. I'm going to be using a new cool analytical technique to look at rocks that no one has looked at for years, trying to solve some very important questions. I have a world leader as my supervisor. The guy who invented the LA-ICP-MS is two offices down from me. I've had the chance to travel to California. Twice. All for the sake of Geology.

All in all, as cheesy as it sounds, my life is pretty awesome right now. I've had my share of setbacks in the past so its about time something went right. I find myself truly lucky for everything I have experienced in the last 6 months, and long may it continue. Apologies for this being a somewhat self-appraising post, but I should be happy about what I have. Believe me I don't take it for granted. I hope you'll forgive this long, reflective and slushy post. The next time something really cool happens, I will do an awesome write up I promise!

Holidays at home

After returning from the desert I only had a couple of days left before I flew back to the UK. I was immediately thrown back into Newfoundland culture when I went to see the Mummer's Parade. Despite my constant questioning it was never exactly explained to me what it was about. It just seemed to involve various people (Mummers) wearing weird clothes, covering their faces, often wearing bras on the outside of their clothing walking through town carrying sticks with bottle tops attached to them...Having just read the Wiki page, it makes a little more sense: 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mummers_Play#Newfoundland_Mummers

This was then followed by drinking copious amounts of wine with friends and learning about the wonderful board game "The Settlers of Catan."

We caught it in Bannerman Park outside The Colonial Building. It was very strange...

But a whole lot of fun to watch!

I subsequently departed Newfoundland, leaving a couple centimetres of snow behind. Flying a little over 1000m east to come the same distance and then an ocean's worth back to Heathrow I finally arrived in good ol' dreary England. Greeted by my father and driven back up North we chatted about the finer points of living in Canada, evidenced by stopping at the motorway services and getting a coffee at Starbuck's, me explaining that it's normally Tim Horton's if you want a latte in St John's.

No sooner than I was back in Skelmersdale I had organised my week to catch up with as many people as possible. I never thought I would say it, but boy have I missed travelling by train! Travelling to Liverpool, Manchester and Wigan before Xmas I barely had chance to "relax", not that seeing some of my best friends was a chore though!

Before I knew it it was Xmas and the traditional do at the Phillips household. 3 different roasted meats in 3 days is something we should never stop doing. My niece had recently turned 1 and therefore could participate in Xmas more than last year. Suffice to say she got spoilt rotten, and who was I to miss out, getting her a fantastic moose teddy bear all the way from across the ocean.

I thought it was about time I used a few birthday and Xmas presents. Excellent breakfast.

The best we could manage of a Xmas family photo.

Next stop on the list was New Year's in Edinburgh. For the last couple years we've done house party Hogmanay in Edinburgh, but our usual host was on the other side of the world. Someone stepped up and another fantastic tradition continued. I had a fabulous turn of the year (from what I can remember...) and I realised again how much I want to live in Edinburgh at some point in my life.

Me and my girls after getting very excited about Jackie Bird.

Princes Street gardens looking fabulous and festive as usual.

Utilising the train network again there was one more person that I couldn't bear not seeing if we were on the same landmass again. Off to Birmingham for the first time (well since getting caught in a football riot outside West Brom's stadium) I met up with Em and Ross, enjoying lunch at the Handmade Burger Co. on the canal. A lovely day wandering round the surprisingly scenic Birmingham city centre.

After a few more days at home with the family I was then off to my first Geology conference in Bristol. Armed with my research-proposal-come-poster I lugged my huge suitcase down to the south-west. With little time to explore Bristol I enjoyed a quick sarnie outside Bristol Cathedral, then headed to the first session, wandering past the Bristol Earth Science department that also looks like a cathedral.

The second day poster session happened to coincide with my birthday, leading to one of the more nerve-wracking yet subdued birthdays of recent times. My poster went down well with the few that cared for mineral isotope geochemistry, leaving me to enjoy the evening at my leisure. Ending up going for Thai food I had a lovely day overall, culminating in 3 very brainy geologists singing "Happy Birthday" to me in the rain.

I would love to go back to Bristol at some point and have a proper touristy look round.

Immediately after the conference I headed to Heathrow to fly back to Canada. I think my journey back home deserves a post of itself, so watch this space for a typical Stacy travel story. All in all, I had a fabulous time at home, sharing the holidays with family and friends, as well as getting my geek on. Not knowing when I'll be back in the UK next is an unsettling feeling, as I now have a bit more perspective on how amazing my people and my home country really is.