Tradition

I chose to knock the first word off the prescribed title because oy vey enough with the favourites already.  I have a number of traditions, some lasting, some passing.  Mostly mad and possibly inane, but that's why they're my traditions too.

A tradition that I have held for years (and only retired in October of the years past) was one that I invented when I was in second year house, and came to the fore in my third year halls: The Captain's Curry Night.  Having cooked for myself ever since I moved away from home and set my own kitchen up, rather than borrowing space in my mother's, and seeing as Curry, usually in either Indian, Thai or Nepalese form (yeah Cantonese and Katsu curries are nice, but I prefer the others) is one of my favourite foods ever, it makes sense that I put a lot of time and effort into making curry that not only do I enjoy eating myself, but think other people would want as well.  Every week, on a Thursday in third year (for whatever arbitrary reason), I would cook enough curry to feed the 5000, or more accurately about 5 people.  Curry night was Thursday, and at the start of the week was Daft Punk Monday!  To be fair, every day is Daft Punk day, especially seeing as the NEW ALBUM is so close I can almost taste it.  That was the way I lived my week though: nothing but Daft Punk on Mondays, Curry feast (by home-made or by takeout) on Thursdays.  To facilitate curry night, The Admiral bought me a huge granite pestle and mortar for my 21st birthday - a wonderful gift that is part of my permanent kitchen.  Another tradition that was invented in third year and with The Admiral's help was Bacon Day.  That's right, a whole day, dedicated to Bacon, where every meal had to be composed of Bacon in some way, or entirely.  It came about by accident, actually.

A fridge in a Halls of Residence kitchen can be an intensely dangerous thing, almost always strewn with partially rotting food and milk (also probably partially rotten - remind me about the shaft milk from Britten House some time...) and all sorts of random anything...and lots of bacon.  Unless the majority of your flat are Chinese, or Vegetarian, or even Chinese Vegetarians, there will always be a varying amount of Bacon in the fridge.  On this particular day, the last monday of the month in... maybe November(?), we found that all the bacon that was in the fridge was going to go past it's date...that very day.  There's only one serious answer to that, and that is EAT ALL THE BACON.  No other choice.  It's crazy, sure, but if it was a one off, it would just be a  humourous  anecdote about the time I almost got bacon poisoning.  But no, this happened again.  The next time I clearly remember it was in February.  Last Monday of the month.  It wasn't even planned that time either.  

Bacon day has rather fallen by the wayside, because I am no longer living with The Admiral who invented this insanity, and also because, well, I don't eat Bacon these days really.  I'm sure the next time one of us visits the other, some kind of crisis will occur where the only purchasable meat is bacon...

Another tradition that I keep that's lifted from Nelson Court is Thanksgiving.  Now, if you're American, I'm sure you'll know all about Thanksgiving.  Even I'm not entirely sure what it's about (give me a minute and I'll go dial up Wikipedia for you).  I usually celebrate Thanksgiving in the American style on the fourth Thursday of November (an historic occurrence where curry is always postponed), and use it as an excuse to lay on a big roast Dinner and have people round and have, well, community.  Next year will be interesting though, as not only will we have two Canadians (who celebrate at the start of October)... oh what the hell?  We'll have two thanksgivings!  Oh yeah, the other thing.  I'll be living in what will ostensibly be my own place.  With any luck, I'll be able to play host to my fellow Lay Vicars and the new Choral Scholars.  Where were we though AH YES Thanksgiving.  I enjoy cooking for lots of people, hosting, you know, a nice community atmosphere.  That's what spoke to me so much about my first Thanksgiving, in Nelson - everybody pulling together and helping out by cooking, bringing drinks, rearranging the room and setting the tables... having a great meal with good friends.  Of course, my worshipful blog heroine Emily has a great account of her Thanksgiving while actually in America (a critical advantage, I feel).  

I'm scrabbling here though, because I just can't remember what other traditions I have.  I always wear a suit for Sunday services, does that count?  I'm not sure, because it was how I grew up and I think about it in a completely different way.  Of course at the moment I wear shorts underneath my cassock in the week (because it's summer God damn it), but a Sunday is a Sunday, no matter how miserable or how hungover (or still drunk) I may be, or may NOT be (because I'm sober sometimes, right?).  While I was working at School I wore specific ties on specific days, and the 'anti-paisley' is still my "Monday" tie.  

Of course, the oldest tradition I keep and belong to is the choirs of the Church of England, steeped in all sorts of history, both musically and visually - the Red cassocks of Truro Cathedral Choir, like Mancroft, Nicholas North Walsham and Derby before them, rooted in centuries of Church tradition, that allow the layman to see that we are not just a part of the congregation, but helping to lead them in worship.  I have been in this game for a long time, and it's the closest thing I have to a profession.  What happens next, is anyone's guess.

I think that it is important to at least pay some respect to tradition.  Apart from those mentioned above, I'm sure I have many more bizarre customs that I'll remember about half an hour after posting (that I won't be able to work in effectively either - I traditionally never used to wear a watch, but no I do so I guess I have a new tradition?).  My traditions, like a lot of things in my life, are there to keep me feeling safe and comfortable: two sensations that are fast running out as we hurtle towards the end of term, the year, and this strange chapter of my life.  What lies before me is a new road, one that will lead to me forging new traditions and (hopefully) not forgetting all of the old ones.  A tradition I keep to with writing this is making sure at least a thousand words are down before even thinking about a final edit - thankfully not to difficult to keep.

That's all.  For now.