2011

Happy New Year!

I know. Late again. If anybody read this, they might be disappointed. The lack of an audience is very liberating.

I think that bloggers traditionally review a year, and then write their New Year's resolutions. As I appear to be struggling for content (an illusion! I am struggling for the motivation to write about the content), and it is always useful to record one's resolutions somewhere (not logical, I know. But I've started now), I shall write them down here. Not that I have any resolutions per se, but there is a list of things I must accomplish:

1. Set up a pension. I promised myself I would do that this month.
   
2. Buy a subscription to the tunnel so that I don't have to find change every morning, and so that it cannot mistake another 20p for 5p or 10p and thus steal my money.
3. Become stronger and more flexible, through attending Pilates and yoga sessions, and through going climbing.
4. Become more fit, through doing actual aerobic exercise.
5. Lose three stone. This should be achieved by next March at the latest. It will be achieved by a combination of diet, exercise and drinking less wine.
   
6. Buy a corset. Probably when I have lost 2 stone, or so.
7. Learn how to play the alto and tenor parts of a hymn in 4-part harmony in the left hand, leaving the right hand free to solo the melody on a different stop.
8. Stop biting my nails completely. It is not a good idea when working with lead, even if I wash my hands thoroughly and leave a gap of at least a day between working and biting.
9. Be a good sister.
10. Make more of an effort to get to bed on time.
    

So far, nothing is going badly except the pension thing. Actually, I achieved item 2 while in the process of composing this e-mail. Number 3 is well underway, and number 4 starts on Sunday evening. Number 5 will be very difficult indeed. Number 6 will be fine if I have the money. Number 7 is like learning to play the organ all over again. I do not like it. It will be very good for me. (It is not going badly because I am not doing it at all at the moment. If I were trying, it would be going badly.) Number 8 is fine if I keep a nail file on my person at all times. Number 9 will involve a lot of patience with the teenager, and being more thoughtful with the other two. I should visit them, and stuff. Number 10 is being broken as I type. Suggestions? "Just go to bed; it's not that difficult" will not be considered to be a helpful suggestion.

Hello again

Hello again, everyone!

Where were we? I was in Germany, and very wet, I believe. I expect that you will not be surprised to hear that I am no longer wet. Are you surprised to hear that I am no longer in Germany? Whether you are or not is immaterial, I suppose. The fact is, I have been here for about two months now, and have actual productive employment. My job no longer makes me want to find any excuse to avoid going, even though I have to wake up before 7am (which is an actual real time, it would appear) in order to ensure that I can both have dry deodorant before I get dressed and get to work on time. Both of these things happen most days.

Generally, when one has been through an interesting experience, such as my great moving to Germany escapade, one will summarise some things about it. Normally, they will use actual sentences, quite unlike the sentence I just failed to write in a convincing manner. I will attempt to write something vaguely summary-like and interesting. I do not promise that paragraphs will not contain much repetition of interesting words. It is late, and my brain broke about the time I went on anti-depressant drugs. (Don't worry - it's just the memory and a certain amount of the cognition that went. I know absolutely nothing about the subject, and am therefore confident that they will return when the drugs are stopped.)

The big reasons for my Germany trip were to learn German and to get some organ building work experience in a country that wasn't the UK. Under the circumstances, I was looking to get work experience in Germany. I failed on both counts. My German has improved to such an extent that I can have a very slow and stilted conversation with a friendly German who really, really wants me to know what they are saying, and is prepared to use very simple language and slow speech. I demonstrated this three times on my last day! (And the day after that I arrived in Paris and had what I remember as a fairly effortless conversation in French - it's good to know that one of my foreign languages improved. Although, having said that, on my penultimate day in Germany I did have a date in French. It lasted for hours. I think that my French improved a lot.)

The work experience thing failed. I was getting somewhere about two weeks before I left (friend of a friend of a friend), but then time ran out and it wasn't worth pursuing.

Another thing that failed was my looking after of the vegetable garden. The guy who owned the flat was not impressed. I had thought that I had left it in a more-or-less OK state (freshly mown! Weeded in parts! No apples on the grass!), but I was wrong. I will not take on a vegetable garden on my own again in a hurry. No siree.

I did learn how to spin and weave, though. I made three scarves which could be worn, one of which was good and all of which were pretty. OK, so it took about 40 hours of spinning to produce the yarn for the good scarf, and I cheated and used entirely bought yarn for the other two, but it's not as though I was short of time.

Another thing I did was reflect. And find myself ready to start to work and interact with people again.

And I didn't gain weight, overall. Which is more than can be said for the last two months.

I also realised that I enjoy the company of family members a lot. This made moving back to my parents' house seem like a very inviting prospect. That was excellent, because it's great! I am especially enjoying time off being a proper adult who has to cook for herself. One day I shall return to that role, and I shall enjoy it; being able to ignore it completely at the moment should have a decidedly restorative effect. I love running away from things!

It was hard spending so much time away from having conversation with people. On my return, though, it was very strange. There's this thing about people in England: they speak English. If you want to ask them a question, you just ask it in English and they understand, then answer you in English. You don't have to translate your question into German, or even French. Nor the answer. They only rarely use vocabulary with which I am not familiar (the local vernacular can be interesting). It is so liberating! Shopping briefly became an adventure!

So, the job. Pretty much what I wanted, really. Organ building. Not making new organs, so there is no requirement to make 61 pipes which are beautiful and identical except that each one is ever so slightly smaller than the last one in nearly every way, and is possibly also a little less eary. Of course, I still have to clean the little darlings, and make them beautiful again, but that's actually quite fun. Not that making pipes would not be fun (she says, seeing her future career running away without so much as a backwards glance), but a whole week of doing nothing but making pipes would not please me in the slightest.

One of the excellent things about this job is the variety. I won't go so far as to say that there are never two days the same, because that would be untrue. There are an awful lot of organs which need to be tuned, and that involves sitting more-or-less stationary and moving my fingers, hands and arms a little, but mostly keeping them still. That gets samey. I enjoy it a lot, though. (I think that this is evidence that I am a little wrong in the head, but I am sure that it would not take much digging to find evidence which is significantly more compelling than this.) Cleaning pipes can last for days, too. That is only dull if a) you are entirely sane; b) the pipes have been washed already, but poorly, and the job is therefore being repeated or c) you know it will last for three days. So far, only the middle condition has been fulfilled in my case (and that only rarely), so I am enjoying that, too.

One of the less excellent things about this job is the cold. I am investing in more warm things. I have some sheepskin fingerless gloves, which feel as though they are hugging my hands. I love them. Any week now, the thermal underwear comes out. The overalls I was given are holding that at bay nicely, though, as is the very thick fleece, the Puffa gilet and the scarf. I'm not thin at the best of times, but I imagine that I look somewhat Michelin-Man-like when I am tuning.

I think that I will probably not talk about the job very much now, though. It's never a good policy to blog about work, and it is possible that I have said too much already.

I also got myself another organist job. I think that, this time, the situation was not desperate (normally, when people offer me a job as an organist, they are), and it was more a case of both knowing the right people and being in the right place at the right time. Having a very flexible approach to when I work probably helped, too. And this job is for one Sunday per month! It hasn't exactly started yet, but it sort of has; I played on Sunday because the service was on the piano and Dave the Organist (for it is his church) hates pianos. At the risk of receiving an angry look, I shall venture to say that pianos are not wild about him. Reducing antipathy, getting some practice in on an easy instrument and earning some money are all excellent motivators, so I was glad to volunteer for this particular service.

The service mostly went well. I don't think that I played badly at all, and my wrong note percentage was way below 1. I also had an 80% success rate for playing the hymn I had agreed to play. That's not bad for a first time, is it? Anyway, the offending 20% of hymns was only out by 1 (258, instead of 259). And the congregation didn't seem to know the one I was supposed to play. And I admitted my mistake only a few moments after I was supposed to have started to play, but had instead looked in horror at the hymn book and the lack of a match between the hymn I had practised and the hymn which was in front of me, and the unlikeliness that I would be able to sight-read something so modern at such short notice. Fortunately, the theme was about the same, and the people leading the service very graciously allowed me to play the hymn that I had prepared. I then played through the whole thing reasonably well (just in case nobody knew it), which made a change as I usually go to pieces when I completely fail to play a single note of what I should be playing (i.e. the correct hymn). Thank goodness it was an easy one!

In future, however, I shall most certainly not be agreeing which hymns I will play on a Friday night. That is a night for family fun, and not for doing things which involve cognition. I was warned about the likelihood of the exact mistake I ended up making, in a particularly explicit way (that's the wrong hymn - she wants 259), but convinced myself that I had made a typo and that I knew what I was doing. I had not, and I did not. Lesson learned, I hope!

It's not all organs, though. I have taken up Pilates again. I like it. It helps me to lift heavy trays of pipes like a man. Grr. Hear me roar, and all that. And climbing is happening, too. Sometimes. I have been lent a spinning wheel, and have bought a digital radio (Tesco - working really well so far and helping me to get to sleep at night, and to wake up in the morning. Currently it is about fourth on the list of my best friends. I suppose this means that I should give it a name, but I apparently don't treat all of my close friends with that much respect).

Mother let me put up a net of white lights on the wall above my bed, and Father helped me to achieve the drilling of holes. I love it - I can turn the light off without leaving my bed. I have given up on my old mobile phone (it was convinced I had plugged in headphones, and so would not speak to me without a loudspeaker) and now have a "new" one (from HWSNBN, via Anne), which has really horrid text settings. If I sent text messages, I would probably have gone mad by now.

This is turning into a list. I so wanted it to be a pretty little narrative. Ah well - that's a whole load of narration out of the way. It has just occurred to me, though, that if I am not talking about either of my jobs (the real one, or the one which happens once a month), my love-life (or complete lack thereof), and I am not really seeing any of my friends, this blog will continue to be very dull. It's not even as though I am going to make any soap in the near future, as I made about 12kg of the stuff before I left England for France. I have about 11 1/2kg left (I gave quite a bit away). (I know - I'm exaggerating. I have under 11kg left.)

Ah well. We shall see. And it's not as though anyone reads this, anyway, so nobody will be disappointed.

Let's summarise now, and get a cup of tea before listening to Radio 7 and going to sleep:

Life is good. I like it.

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

Many things

Progress has been made in several areas of my life. Not in the "writing without starting with an incredibly dry sentence in the passive voice" area, but in many other areas.

Yesterday I called the organ builders with whom I am hoping to start an apprenticeship at some point. I have a PhD funding deadline coming up, and if there is no hope of me becoming an organ builder it would be better to find out sooner rather than later so that I can go for this funding.

We had a nice chat. She reckons that there will be a shortage of organ tuners in the next few years, so I would have a good chance of getting a job as a tuner, providing I am up to the task. They are not looking to expand, so there are unlikely to be any organ building jobs advertised, but she said that they would often be able to create a position if the right person came along.

As an organ builder's apprentice, I would be on the minimum wage. This means that I would be better off financially than when I did my MSc. That can only be a good thing! I was a little worried that it would be legal to pay apprentices less than the minimum wage, as they receive training. Given that I have to eat, not being paid would be too much of a barrier for me, and I would not be able to do that.

I have been advised to contact my local (only an hour's drive away) organ builder and see if I can get some tuning work experience. As organ builders only work during normal working hours, and I work during normal working hours, I am going to have to reduce my hours somehow to accommodate this. I would like to reduce my hours anyway, as I need a bit more variety in my days, and I need to get it before I explode rather than after the event. I am working on it. Last time (when I did my MSc), after an epic battle (and an unsuccessful job hunt), I got my wish, but my reasoning is more flimsy now - everything is still speculative.

It was wonderful when I only worked 3 1/2 days per week, though. Everything seemed easier, and the job was so much fun! It was harder fitting more into the time available, but I had more motivation to do it because I knew that I didn't have to go to work on Fridays. I also didn't notice very much when I had been a long time without a holiday, and holidays were a big treat. Granted, the MSc really did take it out of me (oh, those nightmare late-night essay/dissertation sessions, in which I was convinced that I would never ever get it done, and that I might as well give up because there was no way I would get the marks I wanted. The mark I needed to get for my dissertation was impossibly high for me, so this was quite a reasonable fear!), so it was not all joy and puppies, but I did get a lot more variety. I want variety, and I want it now!

I also have some non-news about this organ scholarship I am hoping to get. They have e-mailed me asking me to give them a call. We shall see where that leads. It would be wonderful to have an organ to practise on, and somebody who would be disappointed/annoyed if I were to fail to do enough practice, though. I think that my playing would improve a lot. Certainly next year's Chaplaincy Christmas carol service would be more relaxing. Except that I would probably come up with an excellent way to make life more complicated for myself by playing something I have no hope of playing, mess it up, and become known as the next organist to mess up, despite generally playing better than my previous performance, which was widely acclaimed (because they are not very musical there, apparently. It really wasn't great by any of the usual definitions).

So I am now feeling nervous, excited, and slightly concerned about my mental health. I am not convinced I should move so quickly from the pits of despair to being content (in an expectant way), hopeful and excited, and am hoping that these are not the symptoms of a crazy chemical imbalance which will have to be treated with drugs (as you can see, the paranoia remains). It does seem unlikely, though; surely it is the circumstances that have changed. I suppose that I have taken a step towards something I really want to do, established that it is not impossible that I would be able to do that closer to where I currently live (we would have to move between City Below and Other City), and heard something which is not yet negative about this organ scholarship. I am also confident that my hours will be reduced so that I only work four days per week, but that confidence is clearly because I am delusional, as it flies in the face of logic.

Oh yes, and I went climbing yesterday. Now my arms are a little stiff (and my legs a little tired), but I am very glad that I went. I am not going to fit into the trousers I am just about to throw away by sitting on my bum doing nothing! Also, I got to go to the supermarket and discover that my debit card has gone walkabouts - it is better to find that sort of thing out sooner rather than later. It is also good that I have two debit cards from which to choose, as otherwise buying my shopping would have been more difficult. I suspect that I have just mislaid it (it will probably be on my office floor), but it has now been canceled. The numbers I had to call were obsolete, though - using area codes that no longer exist. Perhaps I should ask them for an updated keyring...

Crossing things off

Today I went to yoga and made a new friend, then ate soup full of vegetables. All in all, it was a productive lunch hour. This new friend* is interested in coming climbing with us, and could well increase my climbing flexibility: he may be available when the others are not (they come as a group - I am the odd one out). Also, he can teach yoga, and is stronger and more bendy than I. That is likely to make me more competitive. I shall have to build up my core strength first. As this was the first yoga session I have attended for several months, I expect to be stiff tomorrow, but I may be able to do something later on.

However, yoga cuts in to my organ practice time. I didn't get a chance to practise on the organ at all today, and have to make up for it this evening on my fake piano. No doubt as the deadline to learn the carols approaches** I shall be less and less relaxed about the whole thing. I must try to get a few intensive sessions in this weekend. AARRGGGHHHHH! Sorry. That just slipped out. Deep breaths. Nope; no luck there. Slow breaths, then. There, that's better.

Sunday's hymns have now been chosen, and are nice and easy. Robyn, the guitar player, will be there this Sunday, so I only have to play two - the first hymn and the final hymn. That makes it easier.

By the way, does anyone know what happened to HWSNBN? I think that maybe someone stole him. The robot with whom he has been replaced is lovely and obliging, with some helpfulness and a sense of humour thrown in. I'm not complaining; please will whoever did this leave it with me for a while (for ever?)? They have obviously gone to some effort to make sure that the switch was not detected - the robot is communing with its computer friend upstairs as I type this, and HWSNBN's mum seemed to think it was the genuine article, but I know better. It coped with gentle teasing in a mature manner and then prepared some vegetables for dinner. That is not HWSNBN. Anyway, as I said, just passing comment. The robot is welcome to stay, to keep the bed warm, and to drive me to see my parents tomorrow. I hope it lives off food and drink, though - I don't fancy learning how to recharge it. Where would the plug go?!?

And on that note, I say "Oh crap! Is that the time? I'm never going to learn any hymns at this rate!"




*OK, so perhaps "friend" is a little premature. We shall see...

**The first deadline is Monday - in four days time - for a rehearsal. I must sound as though I know what I am doing so they do not dismiss me out of hand, and hate me for being incompetent. That would be embarrassing, and would result in a lot of my effort being wasted. The second deadline is Sunday 7th December, at 7pm. I think. I am not doing the maths to work out how many weeks that is until I can play what I need to play without making any mistakes (i.e. 12th December at 8pm, probably).

Climbing

Today I went climbing. I think that I last went climbing the evening before I started this blog. I remember that getting it together enough to go climbing regularly was finally beginning to pay off, and I was starting to feel strong and in control again. In fact, I had for the first time (and ahead of the men with whom I climb) managed to make it to the top of the 18m wall at the indoor climbing centre. I was leading, which meant that I was taking my rope with me and clipping it through quick draws as I climbed - the rope was not attached at the top of the wall, and had I fallen I would have covered a little more distance than I was comfortable about covering before the rope became taut. I held on very tightly.

My head was not really frightened, but my legs were. I decided that it would be a good plan to repeat to myself that this was just an ordinary climb, and was perfectly safe; it was just taking a little longer than usual. And I did not look down until I was on my way down. I think that may have helped. I suppose I kept the fear at bay by pretending nothing was going on. I think that my legs are either stupid and did not understand what my head was saying, or more perceptive than my head. I ably demonstrated "Elvis leg".

Additionally, it turns out that it is very draining climbing 18m upwards - my arms and legs were very pleased when I stopped climbing and prised my grip from the 'rock'. Alas, I missed the view on the way down. Next time I shall have to pay more attention - I was really looking forward to seeing what the climbing centre looked like from that angle, but was unable to let myself until I was safely dangling on that rope. I like the rope.

Today I felt less able. A month or so without using many of my climbing muscles left me with an increased waist measurement (I'm a little touchy about this - I remember how my harness used to fasten) and decreased strength. I was tired when I climbed to the top of the first 10m wall. I didn't attempt the 18m one at all, although the guy in the group today did. He only rested twice on the way up, which means he is only two rests behind me.*

There was only one incident requiring an ambulance, which was good, although I prefer it when there is none. I didn't get the impression that they guy fell off the wall; if he did fall, he fell quite a long way. I didn't even notice there was a problem until the ambulance people came along with their ambulance. He was only a few metres away, so whatever he did, he did it quietly.

It felt good to have climbed again - I must try to keep it up better this time. There are plans to climb outside some time before the end of the year, which I really need to do. I was given a whole load of climbing gear for my birthday in June, and have not used most of it as there is simply no need for a helmet or assorted bits of metal attached to wire*** when climbing indoors. Especially if you don't fall off.

I returned home to find HWSNBN killing his friends on the Internet. They do this a lot. Apparently his friends are dead now. Perhaps they won't be doing it so much in the future. Perhaps he has zombie friends. I have just cooked sausages left over from Saturday's barbecue (they were frozen when they attended and have been in the fridge since Saturday evening). Either they will be fine or I will get a day off work. Either way, I win. Mind you, maybe I'm looking at it wrong - maybe I lose either way: either I have to go to work or I get food poisoning. Hmmm. Life can be disappointing viewed from a "glass-half-empty" perspective.

Bed time. Sleep well, Internet.


*Competitive? Me? Actually, I was too afraid to let go of the rock. I mean, I wasn't afraid of the climbing itself,** but letting go did not seem to be a plan with which I wished to engage.

**My legs do not count as "me". They are traitors.

***There is, of course, much need for assorted bits of metal attached to what looks like very sturdy string - those are the bits of my birthday present that I have been using a lot. And my rope is very lovely, too. It isn't long enough for the 18m wall, but is great for the rest of them, as is is lighter than the longer ropes.