I am feeling a bit more perky today. I actually started to feel better yesterday evening. No idea why. Today I gave myself a list of things and accomplished them. OK, so the list consisted of going into a building, looking at a piece of paper, sending a text message and then doing a few things on the Internet, but I did it all! Go me!
Then (then being after I wrote the list, but before I started to accomplish things on it. My time-line is not excellent), in a fit of responsibility, I took out my biological waste, which consisted of two tea bags and some cereal on which I poured milk which smelled fine, but looked, shall we say, gloopy. Not a good look for milk. It does have a big advantage, though – I was able to salvage most of the cereal by scooping the really nasty bit out and putting the rest in another bowl. This pleased me – gluten-free cereal is not cheap, and this has something approximating real chocolate in it.*
While I was accomplishing this great feat of preventative flat maintenance (avoiding both fruit flies and bad smells), I decided that I would go to the bike shop over the road if the time was after 2pm. As it was 1.58 at the time, I gave myself a day’s grace and went into the basement to get the bike (phew – that was a close shave!). On the way up the basement steps, with the considerably heavy bike by my side (well, at arms length ahead of me – I find that if I lock my arms straight it makes pushing the bike up the cunning slope at the side of the steps that much easier), I was accosted by a man.
When one of my schoolfriends tells these stories, they always end badly. I have been involved in a few myself. She has a strange man magnet, I think. Hers normally start, “I was (insert place and activity here) and this really strange man started talking to me/started to follow me/was minding his own business until I started to talk to him and thus sealed my own fate” (note that she doesn’t actually say the third option, but I have been involved situations with strange men and her more times than I care to remember, and the last option does occur in times of crisis involving lost hikers and a need to know whereabouts on the map we are. At least two times in Wales alone). My stories end better. They usually give me houses, or something.**
This man asked me if I needed a bike. In German, of course. I wonder if he was the Russian man who fixes bikes and is rumoured not to speak much German but to be good at English. If he was, the rumours are not to be relied upon – his English was almost as bad as my German. However, he showed me a bike chained to a nearby railing, unchained it, and motioned that I was to try to ride it. I did this, and marvelled at how diminutive it felt. I think that it was the perfect size for me, but my perception of what a bike should feel like has changed somewhat over this past week. I rode it round, noting that it uses the pedals to brake, like a Dutch bike (although it has a “standard” brake, also), and that it felt like a bike (which is a good thing) He said that he would come to my flat this evening.
This evening, he did indeed come to my flat. He took me to the bike again, greased its chain, and got me to ride it round again. Then he put it in the basement for me. He pointed out that it has no lights (well, no dynamo to power the lights) and I said that I had a rear light, but not a front one, but that I could get them both (note that the conversation was not nearly this succinct – it involved a lot of gestures and, at one point, the English-German dictionary (thank you, Henry – it’s excellent!)). I do need to obtain a screwdriver now, also, but I think that I can manage that.
Alas, that means that I must once again go buying things tomorrow. I have no idea which is the cheapest place to buy cycling accessories. I get the impression that my local supermarket is not it. Perhaps Lidl is the way forward. If only Germany knew about Home Bargains (aka Half-price or less). I don’t understand why countries make do without Home Bargains. I wonder if Germany has an equivalent. I already found the Superdrug equivalent, and was delighted to find a shop which is waay better than any organic chain I’ve seen in the UK (and, in some ways, better than Lancaster’s own Single Step shop. Not in all ways, though. This shop is clearly out to make a Profit). It has teff (flour and non-milled), and everything! But no general cheap shop yet.
It is amazing how expensive some stuff can be in Germany. Take tea, for example. I am paying 10 cents a tea bag. For an English person to pay that much is ludicrous. I can’t afford to support that habit! I just did some maths and discovered that I am accustomed to paying about 5 pence per tea bag. Not such a big difference, then. The paper wrapping on every tea bag does feel a bit excessive, though. A cup of tea is not an occasion – it just happens.
Some things are a lot cheaper, though. Those little holders you can get for felting needles are ¼ of the price, compared to the UK, for example. Also, there is some tasty fruit juice which costs 89 cents for 1 ½ litres. It’s not all that specific about which fruit (I think there are 12 of them, so presumably they blend them according to seasonal availability)
There appears to be some sort of party going on around here somewhere, judging by the music. I cannot imagine that the other people who live in this block like it very much... The not so good thing is that I feel slightly sad that I am not invited. Listening to the music, though, it sounds as though it isn’t a very good party. I remember those. Very awkward. I suppose it is for the best that I am not invited.
Wow – the double glazing here is excellent. They have just closed the window and suddenly the music is just a little background noise. I imagine that my neighbours don’t mind the noise at all if they like to keep their windows closed. Oh, the marvels of German buildings.
Ooh – they’ve opened the window again. The party is happening in the next room. Wow. This building was built well. The music is terrible, though, and the lads there sound like a load of thugs (here’s hoping they don’t find my blog and work out who I am!). The girls have started to sing something very annoying.
For the past three nights, it has been so cold that I have had to sleep underneath my duvet cover, not on top of it. I think that tonight I could be closing the window, also.
I feel ever so guilty, though. I should so be a Catholic. I feel as though I am being bad listening to the music, and that I should turn it down. Ah well – I shall revel in the reflected badness of it all, and feel like a rebel. They can’t pin anything on me! If people knock on my door demanding silence, I shall just mumble in English, and that will make them be quiet! Mwah ha ha ha ha!
Midnight, and the party appears to have stopped. What sort of a party is that?
12.30, and it is in full swing again. I think that the lads have gone, as ABBA has started. It is a big improvement. It is “Knowing me, knowing you”, though. “Breaking up is never easy, I know, but it’s time to go”. Great. Just what I need. Britney Spears. At least it is nothing to do with me this time – last time I heard it, it was coming from my common room. Very embarrassing for all concerned, especially those who decided on the music. I don’t get the impression that they realised that it was embarrassing, though, so I didn’t say anything. How would they have shown their faces again after that?
Argh! James Blunt! I wish that people didn’t think that his music was so abhorrent. If they thought more of it, I wouldn’t have been subjected to input on the TV which means that I can identify some of his music and dislike it with authority. I much prefer not knowing what it is that I dislike. Somehow, the dislike is harder to put up with when it is defined. Also, they forced me to think about the music, as opposed to simply letting it wash over me.
Oh – they didn’t finish that song. Is he so bad that even people who choose to listen to his music, and go to the trouble of obtaining it, can’t listen to the end of the track? Poor guy. Did you know that he’s really posh? Do you realise that admitting that I know this makes me feel a little bit bad inside? But it is my duty to ensure that you are informed of Relevant Facts, when deemed appropriate. As I am the one doing the deeming, we can consider that this timing was indeed appropriate. But if you are better at deeming than I, please do speak up.
In other news, I have people coming to visit me. One friend is rumoured to be coming the day after tomorrow, and staying until Sunday, and Mother and Anne are due on 4th August for a week. I have the transport problem solved as long as I fix the puncture on the fold-up bike, and Anne doesn’t mind riding a Dutch bike. I think that I would really be better finding another bike for her, though. If her braking by use of pedals ability is anything like mine, there will be Incidents. This is one accident-prone child. Hmm. Had better see what I can do. Mother will be riding the “new” bike – her idea of a big enough bike is much smaller than mine, and there is no way she would be prepared to ride the large bike. Which I have just decided to call Hubert. The little Dutch bike is Franzi. It seems like a Franzi to me. The “new” bike doesn’t have a name yet; I’ll keep you posted. I am absolutely sure that you are on the edge of your seat with anticipation, so I will try not to take too much time. Naming bikes is a serious business, though. One cannot name a bike until one has taken it through its paces. It would be a mistake. The name might totally not suit the bike and then one would have to change it, or have a bike with an unsuitable name. Imagine the shame! Not only would one be the crazy person who gives names to a variety of inanimate objects, but one would be seen as having poor judgement.
Louise might visit, also. We shall see. It occurs to me that the weekend she is thinking of visiting could well be while I could be visiting the parents in France. That might not be good. On the other hand, it would be cheaper to entertain her than to take the train to the other side of France! Unless she takes exception to a braking system in the pedals, also. If she has an accident, it could get expensive. If she makes me buy a new bike, it could get expensive. I don’t think that she has that much power, though, and she certainly shouldn’t know my PINs. (Notice my cunning use of no superfluous words! Please note that I actually say “PIN number”, though; I am not actually suitably committed to the cause of Not Saying Things Wrong,*** because it sounds quite strange omitting the “number”. I am inconsistent in my use if correct English, and should be punished. But you’ll have to find me first. Do try – I could really use the company right now.)
*I always wonder why people put real chocolate in these things, though. It’s like ice cream – the chocolate can’t melt because the ice cream is too cold, and so you get chocolate which you can’t taste, which has a weird texture. With the milk in cereals, the chocolate stays similarly cold and weird. However, the chocolate pieces are small and heavy. They sink to the bottom of the bowl. This means that I get a mouthful of chocolate at the end, which I can then hold in my mouth until it warms up and I can taste it. It turns out to be a lovely way to end breakfast.
**Well, the first house in which I lived after ceasing to be an employed person living in student accommodation came to me when I was accosted by an old man in the street asking me if I needed a house. As a matter of fact, I needed one rather urgently. He only charged me twice as much rent as I was prepared to pay, which was about half of the (very cheap – this was in Lancaster) market rate – it was the summer holidays, and one can get some very good deals at times. So that ended very well indeed. The flat in which I am currently living was also offered to me by some guy. He obviously has a well-developed sense of trust! To live up to this trust, I have learned how to put the bins out (very complicated in Germany, although most of the complication comes from not being able to understand the descriptions of what goes in which bin), and have only spilled tea once! That is some sort of record for me, I think. The tea, not the bins. I can usually understand the bin concept and did, in fact, work for two weeks as Queen of the Dustbins in Taize. Although nobody called me that. But I totally was.
***Or, perhaps, Not Saying Things Incorrectly.
Showing posts with label Louise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Louise. Show all posts
Tuesday, 20 July 2010
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
Life continues
I think that perhaps I don't really have the hang of this blogging thing. I hear that it is traditional to update more frequently than once every other month. Actually, openings like this are getting a little tired, aren't they? Alas, I do not predict that they will become a smaller proportion of my blog entry openings, assuming that we take what has happened in the past to be a good predictor of what will happen in the future. Perhaps I should just stop lamenting my lack of updates, and just pretend that any entry I post is, in fact, arriving at an eminently suitable time. So I shall start again.
Things have been getting better, slowly but surely. I am now doing one day per week of work experience at a not very local organ builder firm. This appears to be going well. I have learned that organ pipes are very dirty things (and am about to learn about the power of search engines to lead inappropriate traffic to my site, no doubt), and need to be cleaned very thoroughly via a variety of different methods, including poking with a paintbrush (or bottle brush) to dislodge the dirt, vacuuming the dirt away, blowing the rest of the dirt away (blowing is not the first step, because that would be very messy!), washing with a strong solution of specialist pipe cleaner (aka industrial strength floor cleaner) and wiping dry. Sometimes I even get to use a q-tip in the mouth! Of the pipe, that is, as opposed to my mouth. Not always a good idea to put q-tips in one's mouth in such a manky place; it would probably be very good for the immune system, but it might cause some damage on the way.
I am also settled in a new house. I have a room to myself, of course, and also a share of the rest of the non-bedroom rooms within the house. I am living with two other people and a dog. None of them dribbles, that I can see. I wasn't really worried about the housemates, but dogs can sometimes be slobbery little things. This one is well-behaved and friendly, but not excessively so.
My room is great. It's not very big (I have had to get rid of a lot of my things!), but the bed is comfy, there is room for my chest of drawers and single bed settee, it comes with decent bookcases already (and my colourful wool collection looks great displayed in one of these), and it is well-decorated. Like a student, I have my alcohol collection on my window-sill.* Alas, I now have an alcohol problem: it can sometimes be difficult to close the blind behind the bottles.
There is another disadvantage within my room - I am very kindly storing a bookcase for someone, and the only place for it to go is in front of my radiator. This means that I am not turning on my radiator, and my room is the cold one. Meh. It is going a week on Thursday, so not long to put up with it now!
Serena and Heather have both moved Down South. This means that I am somewhat lacking in local friends. I am dealing with this by talking for far too long on the phone to people who is not Serena, nor Heather, which is great but will probably start to annoy my housemates very soon. Time for a new mobile phone, methinks.
It is very strange having two of my closest friends so far away. When I am in my previous neighbourhood, I expect to be able to go inside a couple of the houses there and I can not. Sunday afternoons between church and more church are not the same without Heather with whom to drink coffee and giggle about silly things. Nobody ever makes me cups of tea nowadays, with the exception of my parents.
Speaking of whom, they have scaffolding up the front of the house at the moment. Anne has grand plans to get herself killed off before her thirteenth birthday by climbing up the aforementioned structure. I am to provide my harness (she has her own) and rope, and shall insist that she wears my helmet. Apparently Father is not impressed with the idea - he thinks that the little fatso** will wobble it and bring it down. Not sure if Anne is perceived to be the victim here, or if it's the scaffolding, the house, or the car parked on the lawn. I think that perhaps the scaffolding will withstand the efforts of a twelve-year-old girl to scale it, especially if she doesn't throw herself about much. It will need to be checked out thoroughly, of course, but I am hopeful. It's a shame to deny little children the chance to climb large structures.***
The next day, assuming Anne survives her trial, will involve me taking her birthday shopping. This is an excellent plan, as it means that I don't have to think of what to get her for her birthday. Also, it should be fun. We will have to have an early start, though, she needs to be returned and fed by 1pm, before being packed off for more birthday fun. At least that's what the parents seem to think it will be: Anne doesn't seem entirely convinced. Well, it's not her birthday until next Tuesday, so she can jolly well just grin and bear it.
In other news, Robert has communicated with Louise, and bought birthday presents for her on behalf of us all. It's her birthday tomorrow. This is the second unprovoked communication I have heard of between the two of them recently - it's almost as though they like each other. Weird. Mother thinks that perhaps they are growing up. I wonder if one of them has been taken over by aliens. Couldn't say which one *coughRobertcough*, but it's a theory.
Organ stuff is really starting to build up now. I am playing at the Motherchurch before the service this Sunday evening, I have a whole service to play for myself on 31st October, I have quite a bit to do in the first Advent service at the end of November, I shall be doing most of a Christmas carol concert on 6th December (ooh - that will be an excessively busy weekend), and I am playing for the wedding of some friends in early January. Plus some other stuff. On the plus side, I do appear to be improving - I played the introit at the Motherchurch a couple of weeks ago, and apparently got all of the notes right. It was pretty much in time, and sounded as though an actual organist was playing. Result!
I do need to step up the amount of practice I am doing, though. It's very hard at the moment, as I appear to be even more busy than I was in June, before I cut down on my commitments. I am excessively relieved that I did cut down on my commitments - I dread to think what life would be like had I not done so.
So yes, life is more or less pootling along nicely now. Well, as far as I am going to discuss it here it is, anyway! Certainly things are more calm and under control. The car has new windscreen wipers, and everything! Not new tyres, but we have to take thing one step at a time so as not to become overwhelmed.
*OK, so this is not really true. The majority of my alcohol collection is in my parents' house, in their top kitchen. I have no idea how quickly those bottles are going down, but as the important ones reside with me that shouldn't be too much of a problem.
**Extreme sarcasm. She's quite skinny.
*** :-p
Things have been getting better, slowly but surely. I am now doing one day per week of work experience at a not very local organ builder firm. This appears to be going well. I have learned that organ pipes are very dirty things (and am about to learn about the power of search engines to lead inappropriate traffic to my site, no doubt), and need to be cleaned very thoroughly via a variety of different methods, including poking with a paintbrush (or bottle brush) to dislodge the dirt, vacuuming the dirt away, blowing the rest of the dirt away (blowing is not the first step, because that would be very messy!), washing with a strong solution of specialist pipe cleaner (aka industrial strength floor cleaner) and wiping dry. Sometimes I even get to use a q-tip in the mouth! Of the pipe, that is, as opposed to my mouth. Not always a good idea to put q-tips in one's mouth in such a manky place; it would probably be very good for the immune system, but it might cause some damage on the way.
I am also settled in a new house. I have a room to myself, of course, and also a share of the rest of the non-bedroom rooms within the house. I am living with two other people and a dog. None of them dribbles, that I can see. I wasn't really worried about the housemates, but dogs can sometimes be slobbery little things. This one is well-behaved and friendly, but not excessively so.
My room is great. It's not very big (I have had to get rid of a lot of my things!), but the bed is comfy, there is room for my chest of drawers and single bed settee, it comes with decent bookcases already (and my colourful wool collection looks great displayed in one of these), and it is well-decorated. Like a student, I have my alcohol collection on my window-sill.* Alas, I now have an alcohol problem: it can sometimes be difficult to close the blind behind the bottles.
There is another disadvantage within my room - I am very kindly storing a bookcase for someone, and the only place for it to go is in front of my radiator. This means that I am not turning on my radiator, and my room is the cold one. Meh. It is going a week on Thursday, so not long to put up with it now!
Serena and Heather have both moved Down South. This means that I am somewhat lacking in local friends. I am dealing with this by talking for far too long on the phone to people who is not Serena, nor Heather, which is great but will probably start to annoy my housemates very soon. Time for a new mobile phone, methinks.
It is very strange having two of my closest friends so far away. When I am in my previous neighbourhood, I expect to be able to go inside a couple of the houses there and I can not. Sunday afternoons between church and more church are not the same without Heather with whom to drink coffee and giggle about silly things. Nobody ever makes me cups of tea nowadays, with the exception of my parents.
Speaking of whom, they have scaffolding up the front of the house at the moment. Anne has grand plans to get herself killed off before her thirteenth birthday by climbing up the aforementioned structure. I am to provide my harness (she has her own) and rope, and shall insist that she wears my helmet. Apparently Father is not impressed with the idea - he thinks that the little fatso** will wobble it and bring it down. Not sure if Anne is perceived to be the victim here, or if it's the scaffolding, the house, or the car parked on the lawn. I think that perhaps the scaffolding will withstand the efforts of a twelve-year-old girl to scale it, especially if she doesn't throw herself about much. It will need to be checked out thoroughly, of course, but I am hopeful. It's a shame to deny little children the chance to climb large structures.***
The next day, assuming Anne survives her trial, will involve me taking her birthday shopping. This is an excellent plan, as it means that I don't have to think of what to get her for her birthday. Also, it should be fun. We will have to have an early start, though, she needs to be returned and fed by 1pm, before being packed off for more birthday fun. At least that's what the parents seem to think it will be: Anne doesn't seem entirely convinced. Well, it's not her birthday until next Tuesday, so she can jolly well just grin and bear it.
In other news, Robert has communicated with Louise, and bought birthday presents for her on behalf of us all. It's her birthday tomorrow. This is the second unprovoked communication I have heard of between the two of them recently - it's almost as though they like each other. Weird. Mother thinks that perhaps they are growing up. I wonder if one of them has been taken over by aliens. Couldn't say which one *coughRobertcough*, but it's a theory.
Organ stuff is really starting to build up now. I am playing at the Motherchurch before the service this Sunday evening, I have a whole service to play for myself on 31st October, I have quite a bit to do in the first Advent service at the end of November, I shall be doing most of a Christmas carol concert on 6th December (ooh - that will be an excessively busy weekend), and I am playing for the wedding of some friends in early January. Plus some other stuff. On the plus side, I do appear to be improving - I played the introit at the Motherchurch a couple of weeks ago, and apparently got all of the notes right. It was pretty much in time, and sounded as though an actual organist was playing. Result!
I do need to step up the amount of practice I am doing, though. It's very hard at the moment, as I appear to be even more busy than I was in June, before I cut down on my commitments. I am excessively relieved that I did cut down on my commitments - I dread to think what life would be like had I not done so.
So yes, life is more or less pootling along nicely now. Well, as far as I am going to discuss it here it is, anyway! Certainly things are more calm and under control. The car has new windscreen wipers, and everything! Not new tyres, but we have to take thing one step at a time so as not to become overwhelmed.
*OK, so this is not really true. The majority of my alcohol collection is in my parents' house, in their top kitchen. I have no idea how quickly those bottles are going down, but as the important ones reside with me that shouldn't be too much of a problem.
**Extreme sarcasm. She's quite skinny.
*** :-p
Wednesday, 31 December 2008
Review of 2008
So, another year is just about to end. I get the impression that it is traditional (although by no means compulsory) to do a round-up of the year's events, and possibly also to express one's New Year's resolutions, should one be the sort of person who goes in for that sort of things. I tend not to; there tend to be things I am trying to improve about myself no matter what time of year it is.
As this blog does not stretch back this far, my review begins in late 2007: on 12th September 2007 I handed in my MSc dissertation, ending two years of struggle (and joyous part-time work). I got my results a while later, and they were good; exactly what I had set out to achieve and not a mark more. I applied for a job on a new project teaching statistics to social science students and came second, but the lecturers in charge of the project were interested and suggested we do a research project together. I started putting together ideas. After a while they changed their minds and suggested that I would be better doing a PhD first, so I got an application in and started to apply for funding.
Meanwhile, HWSNBN's dad was ill. It turned out that the problem was a brain tumour, rather than depression and diabetes, and he died on 21st December 2007. We don't know that medical competence would necessarily have improved matters (he might have suffered through chemotherapy and radiotherapy then died anyway, with much more knowledge of his impending demise), but, you know, it is nice to know one can trust one's doctors. His funeral was on 28th December; thus 2008 started without him alive in it at all.
The start of 2008 saw me trying to obtain PhD funding (I think the interview was in March) and failing to do so (naturally this is because the panel was biased; there can be no other reason), then looking towards the open funding competition, whose deadline was at the beginning of May.
In the meantime, I tried to become good at climbing (at times building up a reasonably convincing amount of stamina and strength) and have now got to the stage where my skill level far outstrips my physical capabilities. I got this way by doing nothing, literally. For three months. Next time I go climbing my abdominal muscles will not be my friends for several days afterwards.
I also worked on martial arts (Kiaido Ryu); the moves are starting to become more instinctive, but I am still not particularly good. This stopped in September, and will resume on 13th January, at which point I expect to get into rather a large amount of trouble for my lack of fitness.
Hmm, this is jumping about a bit. Back to March, I think. I went to France to stay with Louise in the Toulouse region. That was fun, and the food and wine were excellent. I took great care to appreciate them both fully, and upon my return my climbing harness needed some adjustment. I returned to visit her in Bordeaux in July, and took Anne with me. That was fun. Bordeaux is lovely and I recommend that you visit it (and stay somewhere central) should you get the opportunity. Louise's room had three massive French windows and a balcony overlooking the street. I liked it a lot. Again, we appreciated the food and wine, and Anne got a taste of French pub life.* She did not, however, have much to drink, what with being 12 and not into that sort of thing.
August marked the results of the PhD funding competition. I was looking forward to being a full-time student in October, but had also been wondering whether academia was right for me. I decided that I would take the funding if it was offered to me, but if it was not I would look into becoming an organ builder, as this was something I had vaguely considered for many years, but had not thought possible. Upon failing to be awarded this funding, I did nothing. The letter I had to write to the organ building firm I had selected was daunting because if I got it wrong they would not want me. Eventually, with the help of a couple of good friends, I got it written and submitted in October, I think. They told me that I should learn joinery, then get back in touch with them, so I set about finding a teacher, who shall be known hereafter as Brian. Because that is his name. Brian is a Master Craftsman of many years standing, and seems to be a good teacher. Apparently I am a good student, too, although I must back this up with some actual joinery before we next meet, next week.
Since August, I have mostly just been getting things done; it has not really been a happy time. In September I got a nasty cough and ended up with breathing difficulties which still have not been resolved; their cause has not yet been revealed, for starters. They are very annoying. I have done pretty much no exercise since September due to lack of time and inclination.
In December I played the organ for a carol service, which seemed to go well. This improved my playing, but brought to light the inadequacies of both my organ and my shoes. I am looking to buy new shoes.
I also learned how to make felt.
As 2009 starts, then, there are things that I must do. Firstly, I must get back in touch with my PhD supervisors and look into re-applying for funding. Having worked so hard, it seems a shame to turn down funding should it be available. Academia is more lucrative than organ building (which really does not say much for organ building).
I must also work on becoming good at joinery. Whatever happens, I want to give organ building a go, and I am not going to achieve that by sitting on my bottom. I also have plans to start making musical instruments, such as simple flutes. I am sure that it will be good for me, and also hope that it will be fun. I shall chart this on my other blog, I expect.
I need to get fit again; martial arts demands it, and climbing helps to engender it, as does yoga. These will be my focus in all of the free time that I have lying around.
I have to improve my organ playing, and shall make efforts to do so, probably in the two hour gap I have free between work and Postgrad group on Monday evenings. I am also looking in to buying an electric organ for home, but have so far found them to be too expensive and too far away. Roll on the recession, and all that. That shrinks the country.
Most importantly, I should be a better friend. I am apt to see my lack of free time as an excuse (to be fair, a lack of free time does make it difficult to take on extra things), and not be there for people except for by prior arrangement. I need to do more things to make people feel good about themselves.
I want to make a success of my vegetable garden this year. Realistically, I am not going to do this unless the weather is good. The last two years have been damp and crap, and I have failed miserably (although there are now more paths, and I have materials to make sure there are paths throughout). If the weather is good this year, I may be able to salvage the project and grow something worth mentioning. Of course, if the weather is good I will need to water it (it resides about 7 (or is it 3 1/2?) miles away), but that can only improve how well I look after it.
I want to blog more regularly and more impressively. I speak mostly of suitable use of English, and of not mangling sentences, but decent subject matter is not to be sneezed at.
OK; there are rather a lot of imperatives there. I suppose that none of them is important if I am happy to stagnate. I am not happy to stagnate; I want to do more, see more and experience more. And yes, they are a tall order; they involve keeping going at things and not giving up. I can do that. I shall review this post this time next year and marvel about how much has changed, hopefully. I hope that the changes are good.
So any New Year's resolutions, anyone?
*What sort of a phrase is this? How embarrassing.
As this blog does not stretch back this far, my review begins in late 2007: on 12th September 2007 I handed in my MSc dissertation, ending two years of struggle (and joyous part-time work). I got my results a while later, and they were good; exactly what I had set out to achieve and not a mark more. I applied for a job on a new project teaching statistics to social science students and came second, but the lecturers in charge of the project were interested and suggested we do a research project together. I started putting together ideas. After a while they changed their minds and suggested that I would be better doing a PhD first, so I got an application in and started to apply for funding.
Meanwhile, HWSNBN's dad was ill. It turned out that the problem was a brain tumour, rather than depression and diabetes, and he died on 21st December 2007. We don't know that medical competence would necessarily have improved matters (he might have suffered through chemotherapy and radiotherapy then died anyway, with much more knowledge of his impending demise), but, you know, it is nice to know one can trust one's doctors. His funeral was on 28th December; thus 2008 started without him alive in it at all.
The start of 2008 saw me trying to obtain PhD funding (I think the interview was in March) and failing to do so (naturally this is because the panel was biased; there can be no other reason), then looking towards the open funding competition, whose deadline was at the beginning of May.
In the meantime, I tried to become good at climbing (at times building up a reasonably convincing amount of stamina and strength) and have now got to the stage where my skill level far outstrips my physical capabilities. I got this way by doing nothing, literally. For three months. Next time I go climbing my abdominal muscles will not be my friends for several days afterwards.
I also worked on martial arts (Kiaido Ryu); the moves are starting to become more instinctive, but I am still not particularly good. This stopped in September, and will resume on 13th January, at which point I expect to get into rather a large amount of trouble for my lack of fitness.
Hmm, this is jumping about a bit. Back to March, I think. I went to France to stay with Louise in the Toulouse region. That was fun, and the food and wine were excellent. I took great care to appreciate them both fully, and upon my return my climbing harness needed some adjustment. I returned to visit her in Bordeaux in July, and took Anne with me. That was fun. Bordeaux is lovely and I recommend that you visit it (and stay somewhere central) should you get the opportunity. Louise's room had three massive French windows and a balcony overlooking the street. I liked it a lot. Again, we appreciated the food and wine, and Anne got a taste of French pub life.* She did not, however, have much to drink, what with being 12 and not into that sort of thing.
August marked the results of the PhD funding competition. I was looking forward to being a full-time student in October, but had also been wondering whether academia was right for me. I decided that I would take the funding if it was offered to me, but if it was not I would look into becoming an organ builder, as this was something I had vaguely considered for many years, but had not thought possible. Upon failing to be awarded this funding, I did nothing. The letter I had to write to the organ building firm I had selected was daunting because if I got it wrong they would not want me. Eventually, with the help of a couple of good friends, I got it written and submitted in October, I think. They told me that I should learn joinery, then get back in touch with them, so I set about finding a teacher, who shall be known hereafter as Brian. Because that is his name. Brian is a Master Craftsman of many years standing, and seems to be a good teacher. Apparently I am a good student, too, although I must back this up with some actual joinery before we next meet, next week.
Since August, I have mostly just been getting things done; it has not really been a happy time. In September I got a nasty cough and ended up with breathing difficulties which still have not been resolved; their cause has not yet been revealed, for starters. They are very annoying. I have done pretty much no exercise since September due to lack of time and inclination.
In December I played the organ for a carol service, which seemed to go well. This improved my playing, but brought to light the inadequacies of both my organ and my shoes. I am looking to buy new shoes.
I also learned how to make felt.
As 2009 starts, then, there are things that I must do. Firstly, I must get back in touch with my PhD supervisors and look into re-applying for funding. Having worked so hard, it seems a shame to turn down funding should it be available. Academia is more lucrative than organ building (which really does not say much for organ building).
I must also work on becoming good at joinery. Whatever happens, I want to give organ building a go, and I am not going to achieve that by sitting on my bottom. I also have plans to start making musical instruments, such as simple flutes. I am sure that it will be good for me, and also hope that it will be fun. I shall chart this on my other blog, I expect.
I need to get fit again; martial arts demands it, and climbing helps to engender it, as does yoga. These will be my focus in all of the free time that I have lying around.
I have to improve my organ playing, and shall make efforts to do so, probably in the two hour gap I have free between work and Postgrad group on Monday evenings. I am also looking in to buying an electric organ for home, but have so far found them to be too expensive and too far away. Roll on the recession, and all that. That shrinks the country.
Most importantly, I should be a better friend. I am apt to see my lack of free time as an excuse (to be fair, a lack of free time does make it difficult to take on extra things), and not be there for people except for by prior arrangement. I need to do more things to make people feel good about themselves.
I want to make a success of my vegetable garden this year. Realistically, I am not going to do this unless the weather is good. The last two years have been damp and crap, and I have failed miserably (although there are now more paths, and I have materials to make sure there are paths throughout). If the weather is good this year, I may be able to salvage the project and grow something worth mentioning. Of course, if the weather is good I will need to water it (it resides about 7 (or is it 3 1/2?) miles away), but that can only improve how well I look after it.
I want to blog more regularly and more impressively. I speak mostly of suitable use of English, and of not mangling sentences, but decent subject matter is not to be sneezed at.
OK; there are rather a lot of imperatives there. I suppose that none of them is important if I am happy to stagnate. I am not happy to stagnate; I want to do more, see more and experience more. And yes, they are a tall order; they involve keeping going at things and not giving up. I can do that. I shall review this post this time next year and marvel about how much has changed, hopefully. I hope that the changes are good.
So any New Year's resolutions, anyone?
*What sort of a phrase is this? How embarrassing.
Friday, 26 December 2008
And so this is Christmas
It has been a very busy few weeks, and I have not had much free time. However, today (well, yesterday now) was Christmas and the stress should be over soon. Louise and I will be preparing dinner for the family (13) tomorrow evening, and then I may not have all that much to do before returning to work on 5th January. What will I do with myself? Tidy the house, then prepare nice drinks and read interesting books? Make things out of wood? Sleep? Watch TV while lying on the sofa with HWSNBN lying behind me? Nothing? Climbing? The possibilities are endless.*
Tomorrow I must get up, prepare casseroles, then go shopping. I am not entirely sure from whence this shopping expectation came, nor am I convinced that Liverpool will be a good place to go at lunchtime on Boxing day (why are the shops even open? Shouldn't people who work in shops get a well-deserved second day off?), nor are there many things that I need, but I am sure that it will be a rewarding experience. Anne is coming with us; she doesn't need anything, either. Blogging about this is making me feel very sheep-like (for good reason). Ooh - I have come up with an advantage! Exercise! It will, at the very least, be a medium-length walk which I would not otherwise have had (I do not go for walks voluntarily, due to a series of unpleasant walking experiences, combined with not liking it that much anyway).
I am rambling and should go to bed. I hope that you have had a good Christmas!
*Actually, that is almost undoubtedly not true; I expect that the possibilities are somewhat finite.
Tomorrow I must get up, prepare casseroles, then go shopping. I am not entirely sure from whence this shopping expectation came, nor am I convinced that Liverpool will be a good place to go at lunchtime on Boxing day (why are the shops even open? Shouldn't people who work in shops get a well-deserved second day off?), nor are there many things that I need, but I am sure that it will be a rewarding experience. Anne is coming with us; she doesn't need anything, either. Blogging about this is making me feel very sheep-like (for good reason). Ooh - I have come up with an advantage! Exercise! It will, at the very least, be a medium-length walk which I would not otherwise have had (I do not go for walks voluntarily, due to a series of unpleasant walking experiences, combined with not liking it that much anyway).
I am rambling and should go to bed. I hope that you have had a good Christmas!
*Actually, that is almost undoubtedly not true; I expect that the possibilities are somewhat finite.
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
Plodding along
Time continues to pass, as is its wont. I continue to make minimal progress in most areas of my life.
Here is the list of many of the things that need doing by me at the moment:
This lunch time I managed to squeeze in 15 minutes of organ practice. I established that O Come all ye Faithful is coming along nicely, and that an utter numpty wrote in the footings for O Come O Come Emmanuel. That would be me, I suppose, as I am not aware that anyone else is in the habit of writing in my carol books. I have attempted to remedy the problem,* and am a little happier with the situation now. If only I could play the thing... Fortunately, much of this piece is manuals only; I shall have a bash at that tonight.
*I only write on music in pencil, which makes it a lot easier to remedy mistakes.
Here is the list of many of the things that need doing by me at the moment:
- Start going to bed on time (really important - I'm too tired to think at the moment)
- Get more exercise
- Eat better food
- Process some forms
- Shred some paper
- Work out how to ignore de-construction noise outside my office (I mostly shred paper)
- Wash my mug
- File massive amounts of paper
- Change my bedlinen (HWSNBN has complained, but has refrained from stripping the bed himself. This annoys me, especially as I do re-make the bed when it has been stripped. In fact, stripping the bed is the single fastest way to make me re-make the bed. He is being too lazy to allocate work to me.)
- Deal with the massive pile of washing
- Invite a friend round to learn how to make soap
- Write to my friends
- Sort out my trip to see Louise
- Sort out holiday for the rest of the trip week
- Speak to big important person about access to an organ I want to play
- Speak to less important person about access to the insides of a big important organ I want to poke around
- Book the car in for a service
- Buy come joinery tools - they need to arrive before Tuesday
- See the doctor about not being able to breathe properly (Tuesday)
- Learn how to play the following on the piano (for rehearsal) and organ (for accompanying 500 people, apparently): O Come O Come Emmanuel; Once in Royal David's City; While Shepherds Watched; O Little Town of Bethlehem; O Come all ye Faithful
- Speak to Dave the Organist about that music he promised to give to me last year
- Put some stuff on a website
- Read lots of books about organs
- Read a book about joinery (start before Tuesday)
- Read some fiction books (low on the list - the library has surrendered its organ books to me, so I have a few to keep me going)
- Be nice to HWSNBN, in such a way that he feels appreciated (maybe I should try not suggesting that he is lazy on the Internet)
- Put photos from my camera on a different website
- Put some clean clothes away
- Start planning/assembling a birthday present for my aunt (ideally before Friday)
- Get in touch with the vicar and pick some hymns for Sunday, then learn how to play them
- Tell people with whom I go climbing that I am not going this evening, due to being too tired and lazy
This lunch time I managed to squeeze in 15 minutes of organ practice. I established that O Come all ye Faithful is coming along nicely, and that an utter numpty wrote in the footings for O Come O Come Emmanuel. That would be me, I suppose, as I am not aware that anyone else is in the habit of writing in my carol books. I have attempted to remedy the problem,* and am a little happier with the situation now. If only I could play the thing... Fortunately, much of this piece is manuals only; I shall have a bash at that tonight.
*I only write on music in pencil, which makes it a lot easier to remedy mistakes.
Monday, 20 October 2008
It is written! And sent off!
Thank goodness for that. Now I wait.
This weekend has been one of ups and downs. HWSNBN escaped to Foreign Parts again, in order that he might be lonely in a hotel room and do Technical Things to foreign computers. He appears to be approximately as happy with this as I would expect him to be, although I cannot rule out a degree of measurement error, insofar as expecting him to have a level of happiness may make me more likely to believe that he is that happy.
I had planned to buy birthday presents for Anne on Saturday, but had to cut my shopping trip short because I wasn't feeling well. Every time I tensed my abdominal muscles (which happens more often than I realised) it hurt. Walking fast uses abdominal muscles, so I slouched around for a while, trying to find the umbrella shop (defunct) or a pretty umbrella (was unsuccessful), before being escorted back to the car by Serena. I then went to sleep on the back seat while she went shopping. I must say, the Jazz is far more comfortable for this type of activity than the Seicento (my previous car) would have been. In fact, should I find myself homeless at any point, let's just say that there are worse cars I could have (i.e. most other cars which are not camper vans).
After my sleep I felt far more human, and we returned to Serena's house for dinner. After dinner, much to my surprise, I felt well enough to go to a party to which we had been invited.
I had not exactly been looking forward to this party; I was a little worried that it would be awkward, and that there would be no crisps that I could eat. Having already eaten dinner, the latter was not likely to be too much of a problem, but the former could make it a waste of an evening. However, I had promised to bring some fire lighting supplies for the back yard, and thought that I should at least make the effort.
Upon arrival, we made our way to the back yard, to be presented with a choice of a barbecue or a dustbin as a vessel for the fire. I expressed my doubts as to the suitability of the dustbin for lighting fires, as I was worried a fire was likely to suffocate itself without holes in the side, but I was overruled. I lined the dustbin with cardboard, put kindling (kindly donated by my next door neighbour) on top, then poured a small bottle of old cooking oil and salad dressing (with a little old garlic and vinegar - for that lovely sharp flavour, rather than because I failed to decant accurately, of course) over the lot, before putting some of the damp branches which made up the majority of the fuel over the top so that they would dry out then hopefully catch light. This was finished off with some alcohol offered to my by one of the hosts.
My first attempt at lighting it did not go well, and extinguished itself after a short while. The second time I tried, I must have approached it from a more advantageous angle, because a small inferno quickly ensued. I get the impression that I started a chip pan fire in this dustbin, and can heartily recommend this method to future pyromaniacs. We could hear the water in the damp wood boiling off, and it all dried out a treat, and burned as though it was created for such an event.
When this had been achieved, I went and got a drink, and was delighted to note that one of the hosts had made gluten-free pizza and brownies. Naturally, I couldn't let this go to waste, and forced some down, despite already having eaten.*
Alas, the evening was over** all too soon. I did not sleep well; I woke up two hours earlier than necessary, which did not please me.
Funnily enough, I was a little tired on Sunday. Church went well from the point of view of everyone who did not particularly want to use a data projector. Alas, I had promised to visit the Parents and Anne for a few hours in the evening, for Anne's birthday celebration. This entails three hours of driving (1 1/2 hours in each direction); not a good idea when overtired and feeling slightly ill. I also needed to go shopping in Liverpool on the way, in order to pick up some actual presents for Anne.
The journey was good, as was Liverpool. It really has improved of late; there are a couple of new, rather upmarket, malls*** containing many wonderful shops. I was able to buy a mug, some socks and an umbrella for Anne, to go with her Death Kitty hoodie. When I gave these to her, she seemed to appreciate the lot of them. It makes me a little sad to be writing this on the Internet, but my twelve-year-old sister is a freak who likes socks and household items, and deems them to be suitable, even exciting, birthday presents. I dread to think what she will appreciate when she is forty. I also hope that her friends do not pick up on this to the extent that she gets a lovely set of designer jars for her 21st birthday from them. Not that I would know about that. Anyway, I have never been particularly interested in socks.
Unfortunately, my parents decided that I was not well enough to drive myself home that evening, and there was nobody else who was going to do it. Fortunately, Louise is still away at University, so I got her bed. I lay across it diagonally, which is my favourite sleeping position, and was most disappointed to be awoken by the alarm clock. I made my way downstairs, said happy birthday to Anne (who was just preparing to go to Alton Towers for the day, with Robert), and had breakfast. Nana then came into the kitchen, so I chatted to her for a little bit. She pretends to understand more than she actually understands (I think it's partly a hearing issue, combined with not wanting to make people repeat things), and is getting more forgetful and vague, but it was great to see her.
Then I went to work, and stayed particularly late. Then I failed do some organ practice. Next, Postgrad group, then home, perhaps washing up, washing and bed.
Still not feeling right, but at least the headache's gone.
Happy birthday, Anne!
*Yes, forced. I am not a greedy, hungry person who can eat dinner and still have room for the same again. Honest. Stop looking at me like that!
**i.e. I was told it was time to return home
***What are these in English, rather than American? I feel a little stupid now.
This weekend has been one of ups and downs. HWSNBN escaped to Foreign Parts again, in order that he might be lonely in a hotel room and do Technical Things to foreign computers. He appears to be approximately as happy with this as I would expect him to be, although I cannot rule out a degree of measurement error, insofar as expecting him to have a level of happiness may make me more likely to believe that he is that happy.
I had planned to buy birthday presents for Anne on Saturday, but had to cut my shopping trip short because I wasn't feeling well. Every time I tensed my abdominal muscles (which happens more often than I realised) it hurt. Walking fast uses abdominal muscles, so I slouched around for a while, trying to find the umbrella shop (defunct) or a pretty umbrella (was unsuccessful), before being escorted back to the car by Serena. I then went to sleep on the back seat while she went shopping. I must say, the Jazz is far more comfortable for this type of activity than the Seicento (my previous car) would have been. In fact, should I find myself homeless at any point, let's just say that there are worse cars I could have (i.e. most other cars which are not camper vans).
After my sleep I felt far more human, and we returned to Serena's house for dinner. After dinner, much to my surprise, I felt well enough to go to a party to which we had been invited.
I had not exactly been looking forward to this party; I was a little worried that it would be awkward, and that there would be no crisps that I could eat. Having already eaten dinner, the latter was not likely to be too much of a problem, but the former could make it a waste of an evening. However, I had promised to bring some fire lighting supplies for the back yard, and thought that I should at least make the effort.
Upon arrival, we made our way to the back yard, to be presented with a choice of a barbecue or a dustbin as a vessel for the fire. I expressed my doubts as to the suitability of the dustbin for lighting fires, as I was worried a fire was likely to suffocate itself without holes in the side, but I was overruled. I lined the dustbin with cardboard, put kindling (kindly donated by my next door neighbour) on top, then poured a small bottle of old cooking oil and salad dressing (with a little old garlic and vinegar - for that lovely sharp flavour, rather than because I failed to decant accurately, of course) over the lot, before putting some of the damp branches which made up the majority of the fuel over the top so that they would dry out then hopefully catch light. This was finished off with some alcohol offered to my by one of the hosts.
My first attempt at lighting it did not go well, and extinguished itself after a short while. The second time I tried, I must have approached it from a more advantageous angle, because a small inferno quickly ensued. I get the impression that I started a chip pan fire in this dustbin, and can heartily recommend this method to future pyromaniacs. We could hear the water in the damp wood boiling off, and it all dried out a treat, and burned as though it was created for such an event.
When this had been achieved, I went and got a drink, and was delighted to note that one of the hosts had made gluten-free pizza and brownies. Naturally, I couldn't let this go to waste, and forced some down, despite already having eaten.*
Alas, the evening was over** all too soon. I did not sleep well; I woke up two hours earlier than necessary, which did not please me.
Funnily enough, I was a little tired on Sunday. Church went well from the point of view of everyone who did not particularly want to use a data projector. Alas, I had promised to visit the Parents and Anne for a few hours in the evening, for Anne's birthday celebration. This entails three hours of driving (1 1/2 hours in each direction); not a good idea when overtired and feeling slightly ill. I also needed to go shopping in Liverpool on the way, in order to pick up some actual presents for Anne.
The journey was good, as was Liverpool. It really has improved of late; there are a couple of new, rather upmarket, malls*** containing many wonderful shops. I was able to buy a mug, some socks and an umbrella for Anne, to go with her Death Kitty hoodie. When I gave these to her, she seemed to appreciate the lot of them. It makes me a little sad to be writing this on the Internet, but my twelve-year-old sister is a freak who likes socks and household items, and deems them to be suitable, even exciting, birthday presents. I dread to think what she will appreciate when she is forty. I also hope that her friends do not pick up on this to the extent that she gets a lovely set of designer jars for her 21st birthday from them. Not that I would know about that. Anyway, I have never been particularly interested in socks.
Unfortunately, my parents decided that I was not well enough to drive myself home that evening, and there was nobody else who was going to do it. Fortunately, Louise is still away at University, so I got her bed. I lay across it diagonally, which is my favourite sleeping position, and was most disappointed to be awoken by the alarm clock. I made my way downstairs, said happy birthday to Anne (who was just preparing to go to Alton Towers for the day, with Robert), and had breakfast. Nana then came into the kitchen, so I chatted to her for a little bit. She pretends to understand more than she actually understands (I think it's partly a hearing issue, combined with not wanting to make people repeat things), and is getting more forgetful and vague, but it was great to see her.
Then I went to work, and stayed particularly late. Then I failed do some organ practice. Next, Postgrad group, then home, perhaps washing up, washing and bed.
Still not feeling right, but at least the headache's gone.
Happy birthday, Anne!
*Yes, forced. I am not a greedy, hungry person who can eat dinner and still have room for the same again. Honest. Stop looking at me like that!
**i.e. I was told it was time to return home
***What are these in English, rather than American? I feel a little stupid now.
Wednesday, 15 October 2008
Quadro!
I have just been reminded of one of my favourite childhood toys: Quadro. Take a look at it. Have a quick explore of the site. Isn't that the most exciting construction toy you could imagine if you were in primary school? It was for me.
I had years of fun making the structures in the booklet, and designing and making my own. Two I remember particularly were a fort (I think) on two levels, which stayed in my bedroom for ages, and a horse (with wheels, so that it could be ridden on). That also stayed made for a very long time. He wasn't exactly a comfortable ride (although I made him a saddle and bridle), nor was he self-propelled (I needed a cooperative friend to make him move), but he was better than no horse at all.
I made him a tail, too - that was wool. It was a bit stringy, but I didn't get the impression that he minded. I drew his eyes and nostrils on with water-soluble crayons. Can you imagine what he looked like? I imagine that you can not - I can't imagine what I would imagine a Quadro horse to look like had I not owned one in the past. Let me enlighten you - he was rather cube-like, with plenty of squareness thrown in for good measure. Enlightened?
One day my friend Anna and I went out with him for a walk. We took him down a particularly bumpy road (not good - he had casters for wheels; they did not like the uneven surface), then down a pavement (not good - he had casters for wheels; they did not like the edges of the paving stones), then to the grassy park (not good - he had casters for wheels; they sank in the mud, then got lots of mud and grass caught in them). All in all, he was declared to be a somewhat disobedient horse. I did get the chance to use my hoof pick on his wheels when the mud dried, though.
I wasn't going to tell you his name; I was profoundly bad at picking names. However, he brought me so much pleasure (I really wanted a horse) that it seems disloyal not to do so.* He was called Souvenir (Souvie for short). At least I spelled it right - more than can be said for Dillan the hobby horse and Messanger the rocking horse. And Texbook the dog.
***********************
Today is Louise's 21st birthday. It seems a little pointless to say "Happy Birthday" to her here, as she does not read this blog, but she may do one day - I should make sure this is futureproof. So happy birthday, Louise. Wishing you many years of happiness and a suitable, lucrative career and the opporunity to live with the man of your dreams in a lovely house in London. Oh, and a good degree in the meantime.
*It could be argued that dismantling him was also disloyal. Alas, he was old and in pain. It would have been cruel to make him carry on like that, and I had to make the difficult decision to let him go to a better place.
I had years of fun making the structures in the booklet, and designing and making my own. Two I remember particularly were a fort (I think) on two levels, which stayed in my bedroom for ages, and a horse (with wheels, so that it could be ridden on). That also stayed made for a very long time. He wasn't exactly a comfortable ride (although I made him a saddle and bridle), nor was he self-propelled (I needed a cooperative friend to make him move), but he was better than no horse at all.
I made him a tail, too - that was wool. It was a bit stringy, but I didn't get the impression that he minded. I drew his eyes and nostrils on with water-soluble crayons. Can you imagine what he looked like? I imagine that you can not - I can't imagine what I would imagine a Quadro horse to look like had I not owned one in the past. Let me enlighten you - he was rather cube-like, with plenty of squareness thrown in for good measure. Enlightened?
One day my friend Anna and I went out with him for a walk. We took him down a particularly bumpy road (not good - he had casters for wheels; they did not like the uneven surface), then down a pavement (not good - he had casters for wheels; they did not like the edges of the paving stones), then to the grassy park (not good - he had casters for wheels; they sank in the mud, then got lots of mud and grass caught in them). All in all, he was declared to be a somewhat disobedient horse. I did get the chance to use my hoof pick on his wheels when the mud dried, though.
I wasn't going to tell you his name; I was profoundly bad at picking names. However, he brought me so much pleasure (I really wanted a horse) that it seems disloyal not to do so.* He was called Souvenir (Souvie for short). At least I spelled it right - more than can be said for Dillan the hobby horse and Messanger the rocking horse. And Texbook the dog.
***********************
Today is Louise's 21st birthday. It seems a little pointless to say "Happy Birthday" to her here, as she does not read this blog, but she may do one day - I should make sure this is futureproof. So happy birthday, Louise. Wishing you many years of happiness and a suitable, lucrative career and the opporunity to live with the man of your dreams in a lovely house in London. Oh, and a good degree in the meantime.
*It could be argued that dismantling him was also disloyal. Alas, he was old and in pain. It would have been cruel to make him carry on like that, and I had to make the difficult decision to let him go to a better place.
Sunday, 5 October 2008
Life just got more interesting...
I had a lovely evening yesterday. It was Serena's birthday outing, and so we went out.
I also had a lovely day. HWSNBN was a bit cold, so he put the central heating on.* He then oiled the bathroom window so that it would shut. He also brought me a cup of tea in bed. I stayed in bed for a while and finished off a book I was reading. I'm not really sure what I was supposed to have got out of it - either something about how you shouldn't wait around for happiness/redemption, but should go out and grasp life, or that even when life is crap and it's partly your fault you can still act with grace and die alone. And the nuns will think you're great.
I then had a shower and luxuriated in the warmth downstairs for a few hours, before finally starting to make the rest of Serena's birthday presents. Unfortunately, I was a little too relaxed, and managed to leave the house about 10 minutes after I was due to arrive at Serena's house, which meant that I was 45 minutes late. Nonetheless, we made it to the Chinese restaurant in plenty of time (they had a table which wouldn't be available for long, which suited us perfectly).
After dinner, we popped into a bar for a quick drink, then went to the theatre to see Jeremy Hardy. He was very good, and seemed nice and moderate. Very Radio 4. He also catered for us younger members of the audience with a quick game of peek-a-boo. I admit that I was indeed a bit frightened at first, but that I did find it more funny when I realised he hadn't actually disappeared.
Afterwards we returned to Serena's house for a cup of tea, and I stayed there overnight. Her sleeping bag is my new best friend - I have never encountered such a fluffy, friendly sleeping bag before.
Today, after church, Heather and I went out for a drive, some lunch and a quick walk. The weather was great - sunny and warm (in contrast to church - it was incredibly cold. The nuns are on holiday and nobody could get into the office to turn the heating on. Brrrr). Lunch was tasty - dessert was meringue with brandy cherries and cream. Unfortunately, I drank far, far too much tea and rather embarrassed myself with my tiny bladder capacity. I think that it may have been somewhat similar to taking a 2-year-old in the middle of potty training for a walk. I may not be invited again.
Afterwards, I returned home to be met with the news that Grandad's cancer (?!?) is getting worse and that he has about two weeks to live. I was supposed to hear this news from my mother, but she left home about an hour before I called to take my baby sister Anne to the hospital because she has a really bad headache. I am hoping that it is a "The doctor is not open so we will go to the hospital" rather than an "Oh shit" visit; I daresay I shall find out when they return and Mummy calls me.
I did get to speak to Robert, my brother, though. He is hungover, having been to Liverpool yesterday night. Apparently he enjoyed himself. He says that Nana, who has been rather ill with what seems to be the cough which stopped me from breathing properly, is asleep on their settee, has been eating, and is giving the appearance of being compos mentis, which is excellent news. Nana is much more friendly and amenable than Grandad, which means that if the natural laws are obeyed she should live much less long than Grandad. When I was told to call Mother, I thought that it would be bad news about her.
I am feeling slightly like a bad person - I know that I should have been a better granddaughter to Grandad. I also know that he should have been a better Grandad (see how I deflect the blame from myself ever so neatly?). Alas, I am not a boy, I went to a crap university (twice) and I got a 2:2, so I'm not worth remembering really. I shall not justify myself here - it always comes out so defensive (funnily enough).
I am quite frightened of having to visit him. I am afraid of people vomiting, and am worried that he will do so. Or somebody else on his ward might do so. That would be frightening. I need to grow up, really. Being frightened of spiders or needles would be so much more socially acceptable. It wouldn't have helped much with my multiple spider attack in the shower yesterday, though. Massive great hairy things! I thought it was the same one back again the second time, but HWSNBN assures me that there were two. When I thought about it, the second one was slightly smaller and may have had hairier legs. Naturally, as they were so big, they were easy to handle. I shall say no more.
I am worried about Anne, too. I don't like my baby sister going to the hospital (not that it has happened before - it's usually me with a broken bit of anatomy), and hospital-worthy headaches make me uneasy. It's probably just a migraine - she's at about the right age. That means that she will probably just be condemned to multiple episodes of excruciating pain for a few years, and banned from taking the pill forever. Well, there are worse things. There are better things, too.
As I appear to have mentioned everyone else I ever met, I should also say that Louise has been dropped off at university. She is in what promises to be an excellent room this year. I must visit some time...
So there we go. An only slightly ranty account of what I have been up to. There was more, but I think that this is enough. The more was less important, and possibly also less interesting, although I was interested.
UPDATE: Anne has returned from the hospital - apparently it was a migraine. She is now feeling better. Also, it is reputed that 60% of men get prostate cancer, and they reckon that Grandad is one of them...
*This is a bad sign in terms of habitability - he doesn't usually get cold. When he decides to put the heating on, I know that I was better off in bed than out of it. Did that make sense?
I also had a lovely day. HWSNBN was a bit cold, so he put the central heating on.* He then oiled the bathroom window so that it would shut. He also brought me a cup of tea in bed. I stayed in bed for a while and finished off a book I was reading. I'm not really sure what I was supposed to have got out of it - either something about how you shouldn't wait around for happiness/redemption, but should go out and grasp life, or that even when life is crap and it's partly your fault you can still act with grace and die alone. And the nuns will think you're great.
I then had a shower and luxuriated in the warmth downstairs for a few hours, before finally starting to make the rest of Serena's birthday presents. Unfortunately, I was a little too relaxed, and managed to leave the house about 10 minutes after I was due to arrive at Serena's house, which meant that I was 45 minutes late. Nonetheless, we made it to the Chinese restaurant in plenty of time (they had a table which wouldn't be available for long, which suited us perfectly).
After dinner, we popped into a bar for a quick drink, then went to the theatre to see Jeremy Hardy. He was very good, and seemed nice and moderate. Very Radio 4. He also catered for us younger members of the audience with a quick game of peek-a-boo. I admit that I was indeed a bit frightened at first, but that I did find it more funny when I realised he hadn't actually disappeared.
Afterwards we returned to Serena's house for a cup of tea, and I stayed there overnight. Her sleeping bag is my new best friend - I have never encountered such a fluffy, friendly sleeping bag before.
Today, after church, Heather and I went out for a drive, some lunch and a quick walk. The weather was great - sunny and warm (in contrast to church - it was incredibly cold. The nuns are on holiday and nobody could get into the office to turn the heating on. Brrrr). Lunch was tasty - dessert was meringue with brandy cherries and cream. Unfortunately, I drank far, far too much tea and rather embarrassed myself with my tiny bladder capacity. I think that it may have been somewhat similar to taking a 2-year-old in the middle of potty training for a walk. I may not be invited again.
Afterwards, I returned home to be met with the news that Grandad's cancer (?!?) is getting worse and that he has about two weeks to live. I was supposed to hear this news from my mother, but she left home about an hour before I called to take my baby sister Anne to the hospital because she has a really bad headache. I am hoping that it is a "The doctor is not open so we will go to the hospital" rather than an "Oh shit" visit; I daresay I shall find out when they return and Mummy calls me.
I did get to speak to Robert, my brother, though. He is hungover, having been to Liverpool yesterday night. Apparently he enjoyed himself. He says that Nana, who has been rather ill with what seems to be the cough which stopped me from breathing properly, is asleep on their settee, has been eating, and is giving the appearance of being compos mentis, which is excellent news. Nana is much more friendly and amenable than Grandad, which means that if the natural laws are obeyed she should live much less long than Grandad. When I was told to call Mother, I thought that it would be bad news about her.
I am feeling slightly like a bad person - I know that I should have been a better granddaughter to Grandad. I also know that he should have been a better Grandad (see how I deflect the blame from myself ever so neatly?). Alas, I am not a boy, I went to a crap university (twice) and I got a 2:2, so I'm not worth remembering really. I shall not justify myself here - it always comes out so defensive (funnily enough).
I am quite frightened of having to visit him. I am afraid of people vomiting, and am worried that he will do so. Or somebody else on his ward might do so. That would be frightening. I need to grow up, really. Being frightened of spiders or needles would be so much more socially acceptable. It wouldn't have helped much with my multiple spider attack in the shower yesterday, though. Massive great hairy things! I thought it was the same one back again the second time, but HWSNBN assures me that there were two. When I thought about it, the second one was slightly smaller and may have had hairier legs. Naturally, as they were so big, they were easy to handle. I shall say no more.
I am worried about Anne, too. I don't like my baby sister going to the hospital (not that it has happened before - it's usually me with a broken bit of anatomy), and hospital-worthy headaches make me uneasy. It's probably just a migraine - she's at about the right age. That means that she will probably just be condemned to multiple episodes of excruciating pain for a few years, and banned from taking the pill forever. Well, there are worse things. There are better things, too.
As I appear to have mentioned everyone else I ever met, I should also say that Louise has been dropped off at university. She is in what promises to be an excellent room this year. I must visit some time...
So there we go. An only slightly ranty account of what I have been up to. There was more, but I think that this is enough. The more was less important, and possibly also less interesting, although I was interested.
UPDATE: Anne has returned from the hospital - apparently it was a migraine. She is now feeling better. Also, it is reputed that 60% of men get prostate cancer, and they reckon that Grandad is one of them...
*This is a bad sign in terms of habitability - he doesn't usually get cold. When he decides to put the heating on, I know that I was better off in bed than out of it. Did that make sense?
Wednesday, 24 September 2008
Bibble
Today I had entertainment in the form of a large machine ripping the roof off the building opposite. Very fun. It created lots of dust - not entirely sure this fits in well with breathing difficulties.
Louise returned home today. I've had a really good time with her visiting. Often we do not seem to have very much to say to each other; this time we watched Buffy. That was nice. I also showed her my favourite charity shop. She bought picture frames. Or maybe pictures. I bought a hoodie of anarchy for Anne, which she has just e-mailed me about. Apparently she likes it.
I am now looking into making my Christmas soap. Last year I decided that it would be very creative and save lots of money to make soap for many people for Christmas. I was right about it being creative. This year I want to do it much better.
My biggest problem last year was that it took so very, very long to package the soaps. There is always a trade-off between fast and cheap, and cheap won. It has to be made of paper rather than plastic, though. Last year I double-wrapped the soap in greaseproof paper and sugar paper, then tied it together with decorative wool. The majority of packages were very attractive (the ones with the pink wool were, frankly, hideous). This year I shall not give up three evenings of my life packaging soap. It gets boring.
I also intend to make more soap this year, and to make different stuff which takes longer to cure. I have made the first batch - an unscented cold process soap, which should be really gentle.
Another intention of mine is not to talk about it in a really boring way. I'm sure you can guess just how successful that will be.
Also, did I say this already? Yay for me?
Louise returned home today. I've had a really good time with her visiting. Often we do not seem to have very much to say to each other; this time we watched Buffy. That was nice. I also showed her my favourite charity shop. She bought picture frames. Or maybe pictures. I bought a hoodie of anarchy for Anne, which she has just e-mailed me about. Apparently she likes it.
I am now looking into making my Christmas soap. Last year I decided that it would be very creative and save lots of money to make soap for many people for Christmas. I was right about it being creative. This year I want to do it much better.
My biggest problem last year was that it took so very, very long to package the soaps. There is always a trade-off between fast and cheap, and cheap won. It has to be made of paper rather than plastic, though. Last year I double-wrapped the soap in greaseproof paper and sugar paper, then tied it together with decorative wool. The majority of packages were very attractive (the ones with the pink wool were, frankly, hideous). This year I shall not give up three evenings of my life packaging soap. It gets boring.
I also intend to make more soap this year, and to make different stuff which takes longer to cure. I have made the first batch - an unscented cold process soap, which should be really gentle.
Another intention of mine is not to talk about it in a really boring way. I'm sure you can guess just how successful that will be.
Also, did I say this already? Yay for me?
Sunday, 21 September 2008
*Cough*
Today's service went well from my point of view. Both hymns seemed fine. Unfortunately, I seem to be playing too quickly for the congregation - I had to modify my speed downwards quite considerably.
We also used a projector for the service for the first time. It went with few hitches, and I am enjoying knowing that I shall not be collecting any more dead service sheets in my organ music bag.
This afternoon I shall mostly be tidying the house in preparation for Louise, my little sister, coming to stay for a few days (she's due to arrive at the train station at about 8.30). She has a lot of reading to do before returning to university, and thought that going to my library while I work could be a good tactic. There aren't many good distractions in the library, particularly if one is not allowed internet access (which, without my username and password, plus more technical know-how than I possess, she is not). Hopefully she will get through a lot.
Unfortunately, I have a cough which has resulted in a bit of difficulty with the breathing thing. In a way it was better yesterday - I just felt like crap with the occasional random shooting pain. Today the pain is mostly gone, but holding a conversation is less easy. I am being uncharacteristically quiet. Typical for it to happen on a Sunday, though. If I am both alive and still not breathing properly tomorrow I shall have to go to see a doctor. With Louise coming to study, it really is not a good time for me to be taking time off work. I would either have to forfeit the emptiness of my house or take her somewhere quiet and indoors for studying. I just hope Nana didn't get it when I saw her on Friday.
Seemingly, being ill has also sapped any of my remaining writing power. No doubt there will be another uninteresting entry coming shortly.
We also used a projector for the service for the first time. It went with few hitches, and I am enjoying knowing that I shall not be collecting any more dead service sheets in my organ music bag.
This afternoon I shall mostly be tidying the house in preparation for Louise, my little sister, coming to stay for a few days (she's due to arrive at the train station at about 8.30). She has a lot of reading to do before returning to university, and thought that going to my library while I work could be a good tactic. There aren't many good distractions in the library, particularly if one is not allowed internet access (which, without my username and password, plus more technical know-how than I possess, she is not). Hopefully she will get through a lot.
Unfortunately, I have a cough which has resulted in a bit of difficulty with the breathing thing. In a way it was better yesterday - I just felt like crap with the occasional random shooting pain. Today the pain is mostly gone, but holding a conversation is less easy. I am being uncharacteristically quiet. Typical for it to happen on a Sunday, though. If I am both alive and still not breathing properly tomorrow I shall have to go to see a doctor. With Louise coming to study, it really is not a good time for me to be taking time off work. I would either have to forfeit the emptiness of my house or take her somewhere quiet and indoors for studying. I just hope Nana didn't get it when I saw her on Friday.
Seemingly, being ill has also sapped any of my remaining writing power. No doubt there will be another uninteresting entry coming shortly.
Wednesday, 3 September 2008
Soap, vegetables and secondary school
Yesterday's soap has turned a very strange colour - it's lilac (for want of a better word) on the outside, and a weird greenish shade on the inside. I wonder if this is to do with drying out, pH, or oxidation. Or something else I haven't thought about. I hope it improves before tomorrow, at which point I have to give some of it to somebody.
It has all been cut up and is drying in shoe boxes (what? Do you not use shoe boxes to dry soap?), which are useful because they stack well. I now have to start packaging some in preparation for tomorrow.
I went to The Field to gather some vegetables in payment for this bike, only to be met with evidence of my inadequacy. Although I had plenty of beans (plenty being a conservative description) and more than enough artichokes, the peas were long past their best, and it appears that I failed to plant any radishes. This means that I do not have the means to 'pay' for my bike tomorrow. I am hoping to pop into a vegetable shop and fake the peas, but I don't think there is much I can do about the radishes. The really galling thing is that, had I made it there last week, I would probably have had massive amounts of lovely fresh peas to eat, all by myself. I shall have to do better next year. If we get any sun, that will be easier.
It has all been cut up and is drying in shoe boxes (what? Do you not use shoe boxes to dry soap?), which are useful because they stack well. I now have to start packaging some in preparation for tomorrow.
I went to The Field to gather some vegetables in payment for this bike, only to be met with evidence of my inadequacy. Although I had plenty of beans (plenty being a conservative description) and more than enough artichokes, the peas were long past their best, and it appears that I failed to plant any radishes. This means that I do not have the means to 'pay' for my bike tomorrow. I am hoping to pop into a vegetable shop and fake the peas, but I don't think there is much I can do about the radishes. The really galling thing is that, had I made it there last week, I would probably have had massive amounts of lovely fresh peas to eat, all by myself. I shall have to do better next year. If we get any sun, that will be easier.
*******************
*She has actually just arrived back in the UK, I think - she was due to be collected from the airport at 10.30.
**I do hope it doesn't hurt too much if she falls off this pedestal. She's a gymnast, so she should be able to think of an imaginative landing...
My baby sister, Anne, starts secondary school tomorrow. She will be attending my old school. Our cousin, who is fifteen, will be walking to school with her, which is good - it's reassuring to have someone to walk in with on the first day, and a co-pupil is much more useful and less embarrassing than a parent. She is so lucky to get on with her cousin so well, and to have her living so close by.
When Anne was born, I was fifteen. It seemed that it would take an awfully long time for her to reach this age, and it did. I was mindful that by the time she was my age, I would be 30. I couldn't imagine what I would be doing at that age, and I am still unsure. I don't foresee any children by that point, but I have no clue what career I will be in (I've narrowed it down to four possibilities, one of which is what I am doing now; I could be completely wrong). It doesn't really matter - it's just an age.
Anne was a delightful little baby (except at bedtime), and was wonderful until she was three, then a bit annoying until she was seven, and has reverted to being delightful. Long may it last... I have been making a point of spending time with her these past two summers, as I know she will not be a child for much longer. Last summer she came to stay for a long weekend, and we sat on The Field, eating most of the peas we were picking for the parents, until she suggested we should stop. This year, we visited our other sister, Louise, in Bordeaux.* She had a lovely flat, right in the centre, with a balcony accessible from her bedroom windows. The cockroaches were much cuter than I expected, too. Anne behaved beautifully, and was a lot less annoying than I.** It was good to have the opportunity to get to know her a little better before she changes into a grumpy teenager. I do not look forward to that.
Anyway, good luck to her as she embarks on the next stage of her life. I do hope she turns out to be less lazy than I was, and that she makes friends as good as mine.
When Anne was born, I was fifteen. It seemed that it would take an awfully long time for her to reach this age, and it did. I was mindful that by the time she was my age, I would be 30. I couldn't imagine what I would be doing at that age, and I am still unsure. I don't foresee any children by that point, but I have no clue what career I will be in (I've narrowed it down to four possibilities, one of which is what I am doing now; I could be completely wrong). It doesn't really matter - it's just an age.
Anne was a delightful little baby (except at bedtime), and was wonderful until she was three, then a bit annoying until she was seven, and has reverted to being delightful. Long may it last... I have been making a point of spending time with her these past two summers, as I know she will not be a child for much longer. Last summer she came to stay for a long weekend, and we sat on The Field, eating most of the peas we were picking for the parents, until she suggested we should stop. This year, we visited our other sister, Louise, in Bordeaux.* She had a lovely flat, right in the centre, with a balcony accessible from her bedroom windows. The cockroaches were much cuter than I expected, too. Anne behaved beautifully, and was a lot less annoying than I.** It was good to have the opportunity to get to know her a little better before she changes into a grumpy teenager. I do not look forward to that.
Anyway, good luck to her as she embarks on the next stage of her life. I do hope she turns out to be less lazy than I was, and that she makes friends as good as mine.
*She has actually just arrived back in the UK, I think - she was due to be collected from the airport at 10.30.
**I do hope it doesn't hurt too much if she falls off this pedestal. She's a gymnast, so she should be able to think of an imaginative landing...
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