Drill and organ; the exciting things in my life

Somebody recently said that they had read my blog, which reminded me that my job is to write it. Not my only job, fortunately, although I would probably be more prolific if it were.

Right now, my big news is that I have a brand new cordless drill of my very own. It makes me feel slightly sad that this is my big news, but I am sure that the novelty will have worn off by the middle of next week. I expect it to reappear when I actually get to use the thing. Which has two batteries! This means that it can be used even when the first battery goes flat! Hooray! Just something Daddy had lying around the house, unused. Natch.

Of course, I have inflicted some damage with it. I stood it up on its battery, which is a pretty standard manoeuvre to perform with the drills owned by my colleagues, and it fell over and made a dent in Mother's shiny wonder-table. Also a couple of other marks. Apparently my drill is a bit more top-heavy than its peers. That is because it is a Black and Decker, while my colleagues' drills start at Bosch and work up. Still, it is free and doesn't smell as though something died in it, which is what the old one (donated by a kindly colleague) would do had its battery not recently given up the ghost.

My next task is to adapt the case to hold the extra battery. This will involve some cutting and some swearing, I expect. It will be done somewhere Daddy cannot see; it might make him cry, then take back the drill. This is, of course, assuming that the case is big enough height-wise; there's no way it will fit sideways.

What else is going on?

My church is open again! Beforehand, some of my colleagues spent a couple of days inside the organ, and managed to get rid of loads of faults, and to get it into tune again. Then the humidity dropped by a long way, and it broke again. Big, loud faults, with the big, loud pipes involved (although they were just transmitting news of the faults; they were not actually involved. Thank goodness!). Also, an elephant noise from a quiet, important stop. Fortunately, a colleague was able to fix both these problems, and another one which was just waiting to show itself. Unfortunately, the day before the church opened again, another stop failed. The bit which broke is particularly inaccessible; when we pay our £8,500, this will be fixed, along with a lot of other problems just waiting to happen. Until then, we just have to hope for tall, thin, flexible and dedicated organ builders!

On Sunday I played my first hymn in a service on a church organ for a very long time; over a year, in fact. The introduction went quite well, actually. Verse 1 started badly and finished badly, which led to verse 2 starting badly, but after that it sounded as though I actually knew how to play the organ. Verses 3-5 were absolutely fine. And nobody complained. The organist sympathised with me. It should only get better...

Which leads to next Sunday. Not tomorrow; the one after that. I shall be playing the full service on my own, on the organ. Music beforehand, five hymns and music afterwards. I think that Charpentier's Te Deum Prelude is what will be happening afterwards, because I can more or less play it, but beforehand has not yet been decided. Probably the random crap I used to play before the service at St Isidore's. That should be easy enough to brush up; I must actually do that beforehand.

The five hymns may well turn out well. One of them is one I learned a while ago, and the other four are not. I must go and practise in a minute! Wish me luck!

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.

All change!

I have just returned from my last late-night organ practice session as Motherchurch organ scholar. Tomorrow I am finished and must return my key. It is also my last service as organist at St Isidore's. In fact, a week tomorrow I leave Lancaster for good. I finish work on Thursday, and shall then be unemployed. I leave the country on 1st May.

I do have a plan. It is still tenuous, but I can't wait around forever for everything to fix itself. I have applied for an organ building job which has not yet come up (it still has a person in it, albeit a person who proposes to hand in his resignation in the next few months), and shall find out whether or not I am to be offered this position at some point after the person currently in post resigns. That is likely to be in July or August. In the meantime, I am off to Taize for a few months. I hope to find time to relax and get used to having mental space, so that when I return I am no longer such an ineffective person.

Obviously, I am in the midst of yet another house move. Some friends have very kindly agreed to take on key pieces of furniture, such as my chest of drawers and fake piano, and the rest goes to my parents' house. They are overjoyed. It gives them a purpose in life, and they relish having far too many things in the upper rooms of their house. My brother adores not being able to cross his room due to the amount of stuff in it, and only wishes that he still lived there, instead of just returning for holidays. The last two car-loads of stuff (for I only have two journeys there left) will be the icing on the cake. I know that my small bed-settee (smaller than the one I already have there) will be welcomed with open arms.

Once this has been accomplished, though, I should hopefully be nearing the end of my moving career. Of course, this organ job will come with the man of my dreams (how could it not?), who will help me to build my incredibly large house with straw walls and at least one organ, plus a large and well-equipped workshop. It will only take a few house moves (and a lot of hard work) before I am in this house, from where there will be no need to move for quite a few years. Or perhaps until the children put me in a retirement home. He can live there, too, and we will have lots of children, all of whom can be trusted not to hurt themselves when around tools (is that not the main thing one looks for in a child?), and who are good at choosing retirement homes.

Ha! If it works out like that I'll be amazed. Also pleased. Except for the retirement home thing.

Right now, though, I feel a little sad and overwhelmed. I don't like moving house, and I don't like to leave places. This house move is going quite well so far because I have been working on it for a few weeks, and transporting bulky items a few at a time, but the last load is always hard. The last church services tomorrow will be hard (I really don't want to leave either church, crappy organ scholar though I have been), as will the leaving do at work (they won't tell me when that is, but I can narrow it down to Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday during the day. It should include wine, as the Department has an accidental stock of bubbly).

Ah well. What would be productive now would be sleep. Having slept for far too many hours today I am not all that sleepy, but I will not thank myself in the morning if I stay up much longer.

It may actually be getting better...

My life, that is, as opposed to my writing. That got worse.

Wow. Where did all of that time go? It's very nearly Christmas. Just in case you hadn't noticed. Although chances are that you won't notice this blog post before Christmas.

Well, this year has been an interesting preparation for the big event. I have made pretty much no handmade gifts for people (although I do have one in the pipeline), including truffles. I did make some fudge, but that is just being shared out between people, as opposed to being handed out to specific people as presents. Actually, my gift list seemed much reduced this year, which has been a relief. I am still not quite up to coping with organising my life so that I get things done (possibly due to the excessive number of activities I still have crammed in, and how precious free time has consequently become), and so this whole "being gentle with myself" thing, such as it is, has been necessary.

Having said that, life is generally good. The house and housemates are good, the organ music I have been playing over Christmas has generally been to an acceptable standard (with one good bit), I am spending time with interesting people, and they keep heating the Motherchurch, so when I do practice I can move my fingers. Quite a novelty!

Right now, I have just finished work for the year. I spent all of today relaxing and getting stuff done slowly. It started off with a lie-in, then lunch with immediate family and an uncle or cousin. We then went shopping and I bought the last two strictly necessary presents (although I daresay there are a few non-necessary ones I should really pick up tomorrow, and there is still that one I'm due to make). I then came home and cooked cottage pie for dinner, then we ate it. It was fine, although I have made better ones. Then I made a few phone calls and felted some more colour samples for my chart (which shows me which colours I have, and what they look like). At some point, wine and fudge were provided. Then tea was provided. Then I talked to all three of my siblings and both of my parents. It was a good day. Apparently it has left me motivated to compose a blog post - oh, the joy of relaxation! I think that I shall read a book when I get into bed.

Oh, and I am making a chocolate bell for someone for Christmas. I couldn't find a suitable mould, so I bought a polystyrene bell and covered it with clay. I have just cut the clay off again, and it seems to be holding its shape and will eventually dry out. Possibly even this decade.

Speaking of which, there's a new decade just around the corner. That makes me feel slightly excited - I am hoping for a whole new start next year (and have some plans to make that happen). It could be a very exciting decade indeed. If that happens, I may even post some interesting blog entries. Can't really say more at the moment (which is a big fat lie - I could tell you so much! But I really oughtn't to, and am pretending to have some self-control), so I shall keep you in suspense. (Ha! I am pretending someone is going to read this! See - I can be funny.)

In the meantime, I should get down to the serious job of enjoying myself and being a useful person to have around the house. Almost like a responsible adult. And also the slightly more painful job of constructing a Thing mostly by the wet felting method. There will be bits attached by sewing, and ripstop nylon in the middle, and closures, but wet felting will be the important bit. It will be unique.* I may even put up a photo when it is done.

Happy Christmas! I wish you health and happiness. Especially happiness. That's very important.


*And it may also be good.

Life without ingesting antihistamines...

... is somewhat itchy. Even my face has been getting in on the act, which is unusual. I predict that this experiment will end before the weekend is over. My new, magic, anti-histamine cream needs to be applied directly to the source of the itching, and I am not entirely convinced that the tube will last all that long (nor spread as far as is necessary)!

Had a bit of a rough drive to work this morning. My drive involves a steep hill, and I held the car on the clutch for most of this hill, which involved quite a bit of queueing. There was a bit of a funny smell - kind of the same smell as appears when brakes are sticking and about to die in an expensive, and potentially life-threatening, way.* I don't think it's the brakes; clutch sounds more likely. I do hope I haven't killed it.

Anyway, I hope that the car will get me home (to my parents' house - 1 1/2 hours drive away) this evening without any problems. If it does, I think that we can call it a blip, and I can avoid showing off my (actually quite impressive) clutch control skills while queueing on a hill in future. The handbrake's there for a reason! It's booked in for a service and four new tyres on Monday (Argh! Expensive!), so, assuming it makes it that far, I shall get it checked out then. If it does not make it that far, I am in for an unfortunate evening. Last week I was late because the cat was sick;** it would be great to arrive early today...

Tomorrow, of course, marks the day of cleaning very dirty bits of organ. I do hope there is not too much wire wool involved - it's like a tiny little cactus, and leaves tiny little spines behind in my fingers, sometimes. Very irritating. They are not easy to locate, nor to extract.



*As they did on my Peugeot 205 a few years ago, when the brakes failed at some traffic lights. Turns out that the problem was not an entirely harmless stone in the mechanism (although, in retrospect, a stone doesn't sound all that great), and was instead that the callipers on the brake had seized up. Good job the handbrake worked!

**I spent last week cat-sitting, which was fun apart from the clearing up of the cat sick. I maintain that I do not want a cat of my own.

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

Teaching soapmaking

Today I taught four people how to make soap. As I shall be moving house soon (Saturday 5th September, to be precise), I am trying to get rid of some things of which I have too much. One of these things is my oil collection. Much as it would be lovely to put them into storage and get them out again next time I want to make soap, I must accept that these things go off and leak, and that storing them is actually not a very clever plan.

I decided to put an advert on my local swap shop, offering to teach people how to make soap. This was in exchange for chocolate, wine, or loan of a tent next time I go camping (next weekend). I got one bar of chocolate, one tent, and one cake. We made two batches of soap, both of which misbehaved in an annoying way. Next time I teach soapmaking I shall have to make sure that I use a tried and tested recipe!

The first batch was a daffodil one. It was supposed to be moisturising. The soap decided to go all oily in the pan, and had to be attacked with a blender until it decided to play nicely. Alas, it did not trace as it was supposed to, and so I couldn't show this stage to everyone. It behaved in the end, though, and did at least demonstrate what soap looks like when it is ready to be poured into the mould.

Alas, during the proceedings one of the local residents decided that it would be a lovely idea to piss into my back yard. He declared that he would laugh if we noticed him. There is perhaps a small possibility that he was somewhat intoxicated. I am very proud of myself: I resisted the urge to hit him with a stick. My guests were also well-behaved, and refrained from pouring caustic soda on the offending item. Tempting, but ultimately likely to get us arrested.

The second soap was purple. Well, it wasn't purple at all, but it will probably be purple by the time it has finished curing. We put alkanet oil in, which is red.* This then turns purple, or lilac, or whatever it wants to be called. It was a bit over-full in its mould, and a bit came out of the top, but it will be interesting to see what it looks like with a forced flat top - normally I stroke it a bit and hope for the best.

The five of us seemed to get on quite well together - I really hope that we can get together at some point in the future and do some more crafty things together. There were some interesting talents within the group, including spinning. I have promised the remainder of my oils to one of them shortly before I move out (I might want to make more soap before I go, but she can have what's left), and we will meet up again at some point in her house to make another vanilla soap. In the meantime, I am thinking of making a soap which uses the oil infused with vanilla that I have had hanging around for an unfeasibly long time. It would be good to use that.

I had a fun time this evening. Tomorrow is sailing and avoiding being thought of as the sort of person who wants to get into a relationship (hopefully not too tricky, but not pinning too many hopes on that), followed by cutting soap, followed by packing, followed by organ practice (which has been sadly lacking recently, but I figure that I should cut myself some slack). Sunday will be a day of church, then lunch, then looking at a potential new house (could do with getting that sorted before I move out of this house), then packing the car, going to the parents' house and dropping off 1/4 of my remaining possessions (only four more trips in which I can do this), then cleaning out their fridge which will be full of rotting vegetables. Yay. Monday will be organ building work experience, day three. This promises to be fun. I suppose that the last two would only count as fun if you like that sort of thing, but it turns out that so far I do. A career I enjoy may be beckoning me...


*To be a little bit more precise, the alkanet oil is actually olive oil infused with alkanet powder. It starts off looking a little like blood, and then goes purplish when it gets put in something with the same pH as soap, whatever that happens to be. I started to infuse this one in the previous house - it has probably been infusing for something approaching a year now.

Erm...

Yeah. So that was, once again, a bit of a break between updates. I am being exactly the sort of blogger I expected to be. Ah well - it's good that I know myself!

I am not entirely sure that I want to say what I have been up to since my last update. I suppose that I shall start and see what comes out...

It would appear that I am not quite so good at coping with life as I would have myself believe. After a rough couple of years (not all that bad, but somewhat wearing - I mean, there was an awful lot of good stuff happening, but the stuff that failed to happen no matter how hard I tried apparently caused me to give up), it was brought to my attention that I was not actually coping very well with life. After a few weeks of trying to get better by positive thinking/additional free time/rest and relaxation/counselling, I came to the conclusion that my brain was not going to play to any suitable timescale. The anxiety just kept being there all the time, even when there was nothing for me to be anxious about. That was wearing, too. That remains wearing, I suppose.

To cut a long, only briefly sketched, story short, I went on anti-depressants a week ago. I think that I am starting to feel a bit better. Certainly, the anxiety feels less important. I have got very good at ignoring a low level of anxiety and carrying on as normal, and as coming across as a well-adjusted person with a sense of humour (sometimes even I believe it!), but that's not really enough; constant anxiety is just stupid, and helps nobody.

So that's the story of just me and my brain. There are other things going on, though. HWSNBN is due to be moving out at the end of August, if not before, in such a way that we will no longer be partners: a break-up will ensue. This has implications for my housing situation; I cannot afford to have a whole house to myself, especially since my hours have been reduced to four days per week. I must either find somebody else to move in with me, or get rid of some of my stuff (!?!?!) and find myself a room elsewhere. I am currently advertising for another housemate (HWSNBN would move out as soon as this person was ready to move in), but I think that I should probably actually just bite the bullet and move in with someone else. It will be good for me to get rid of some of my things, and will leave me better-prepared for moving wherever I need to move when my organ building career finally takes off (2021?).

The parents have been very supportive. Having just that morning discovered that my wing mirror had been removed in the night (£200 of damage!), I drove into my parents' gate post with the back of my car. It was the other side from the missing wing mirror, so there was no way I could pretend it was the same accident! Not that I would do that, you understand. Anyway, I went inside and cried at both of my parents about the car damages, my stupidity, and my boyfriend announcing his departure, and they fed me and gave me whisky. Not much whisky, though - they were being responsible, after all. They looked after me for a very pleasant couple of days (I don't take much looking after, really - just regular cups of tea and whatever food happens to be going). They also said that I am welcome to go and live with them any time, although they did say that if I moved my stuff into my house I was only to fill Robert's bedroom to the extent that he could still get to his bed. What's the point of being the eldest if I have to abide by that sort of rules? Anyway, I was thinking that if I put his bed in the garden, that would remove that problem: I'm hardly going to want to keep my stuff in the garden, as it would get wet. He can have my tarpaulin.

I am mostly trying not to think about HWSNBN's departure. Although it is the right thing to happen, this is the guy with whom I have spent the majority of my twenties. At one point I thought I was going to marry him (OK, so it was only for a couple of months, but even so...). It is going to be very sad. I am also going to be very financially vulnerable. Sadness tinged with fear! What a tasty little combination.

Ah well - hopefully the drugs will help me to deal with the mechanics of the situation, and I can finish processing it when I am in a happier place. I think I have done enough processing of my situation to be going on with, and would like a break from that sort of thing, really. It would be very nice just to be able to cope with life like a normal person again, even when ever so slightly bad things (such as needing to turn the flashy Internet box off and on again) happen. Even when bigger bad things (such as one's boyfriend leaving one) happen.

It's all OK, really. Certainly, things feel better. Not better better, but much less bad. I have demonstrated that I have both enough motivation and enough togetherness (wrong word - do you know what I mean) to publish a blog post. Actually, that isn't technically accurate as I type, but if you have read it, then it is.

So, watch this space. But please don't hold your breath - I would hate to be held liable for your death by accidental asphyxiation. (Note the concern I show for your life. I obviously value it very highly. Hmm - perhaps I should work on empathy.) Although if watching this space doesn't interest you especially, please feel free to miss that out. I mean, it's not as though I have any right, nor any desire, to order you about. And I can be rather annoying. For example, I should have stopped typing before I started this paragraph, but I did not. Clearly, I should not be typing this. Perhaps all of my pent-up motivation (insert hysterical laughter here) has been waiting too long, and is now unstoppable. Perhaps I need more sleep. Perhaps I should now make steps towards getting that sleep. Yes, that is a good conclusion. Night night.

Not all about felt!

Yikes - after a very short period of what could possibly be charitably described as productivity, I have once again been a very bad blogger. So, what has happened that is of note since my last update?

Well, it looks as though I am likely to be allowed to work for four days per week (as opposed to the standard five) in the very near future. This is not yet guaranteed, but the signs are looking good. This would leave me one day per week free to pursue some organ building work experience. It looks as though this work experience will be able to go ahead, so perhaps I will make some actual progress in my life quite soon!

Of course, cutting down my hours does have financial implications. I have calculated* that I shall be one car payment per month less well-off. The car payments must continue, however - there's no way I'm letting something so useful and reliable go; its running costs are about as low as car running costs can get, and it is incredibly capacious. Also, it is shiny (although in dire need of a wash). To return to the point, I have started to cut down on what I spend (starting, of course, by paying a £200 car insurance bill - way to go!), which will no doubt be painful when I actually want to buy something. Oh, but I have just worked out that I should still be on slightly more money than I was on when I started this job. Wow.

It will be my birthday shortly. Mother has offered to buy the next lot of wool for felting that I want, and I really need to think about if there is anything that I really want that my other relatives could buy for me. I think that HWSNBN is getting me some tools (I should be able to return the borrowed tenon saw to Father; hopefully he hasn't noticed its absence, although he did see me using it when I did a little joinery work for him. I made sure I put it back in my box when he wasn't looking. Never have children - they steal your things). Because what I need in my life is more stuff! He should also be getting me a tool bag in which to store some of the tools, and also for transportation purposes - the tool box I acquired a few years ago isn't exactly ergonomically designed!

I think that I need to up my felt production. I have two friends' birthdays coming up on 9th and 10th June, and want to make felt flowers for them both. One, I think, will like an iris or two (not to be too challenging to myself!), but I have no idea what the other would like.

I am also fixing a felt bag for another friend. Whoever made it didn't pay enough attention to crossing over some fibres (as opposed to have them all running alongside each other), and the strap was coming off. I removed it completely, cannibalised it (so that I had some matching wool to repair it elsewhere), and put it back on with a join that would be invisible had the bag itself not faded ever so slightly - the join is slightly darker. Now I am poking the strap with a needle repeatedly, in order to strengthen it and avoid a repeat performance. After I have decided that this has been done enough, I must repair the tears in the back. I would also like to reinforce that a bit, with fibres running in different directions, in order to avoid a repeat performance. I have wool in a colour which very nearly matches, and a little of the strap, although some of that went to reinforce it where it was getting thin on the opposite side to that on which it snapped.

I love felt, though - it is so easy to mend! Granted, a needle and thread might be quicker than poking, but that requires you to be accurate all the time. Felt is slower, and accuracy kind of builds up over time. Ha! This bodes really well for a career involving lots of accuracy with wood! Somehow, though, even wood feels easier than sewing (with the exception of the sewing of hems - I am good at hems. Probably because it's the only sewing skill I practise regularly).

Now to make lunch. Soup, methinks. Then, perhaps, I shall achieve something.


*This is a lie. I plugged some figures into a website, which did the calculations for me. I hope that it has not made me look potentially better-off than I shall actually be.

Who needs a point?

I have had a few days of not feeling particularly excellent. I have intended to be very busy, but mostly wasted time and packed little (good use of time is measured in boxes per hour). I have achieved a bit of organ practice, but I am unhappy with the number of wrong notes I am still playing. I will not be ready for this "audition" on Sunday. Damn this "turning up to work every day" thing.

This evening I poked some bits of wood with sharp things and left some marks. I also cut and sellotaped massive amounts of paper together. Truly, I have had a productive day.

I have now arranged to go to London to look around a few organs, though. When I say "arranged", it is more a case of having booked transport and asked a friend nicely if she will let me stay with her, then put my booking form for the event in an envelope with a stamp and address on; the posting of the envelope still has not been achieved. Hopefully this will take place tomorrow.

Oh yes - I started to learn to knit yesterday evening. I am not very good at it. I am going to knit a few more rows then unravel it and start again. My second draft will contain fewer superfluous holes. I may show photographs so you can share in my shame (although there may be no shame in being unable to knit), but then again I may just say that I packed my camera or USB cable and am therefore unable to put photos on the blog. That is entirely plausible, given that I am in the midst of packing, and so you would be none the wiser! What could possibly go wrong?

See? You don't have to have done anything of note to write a blog post. What helps, I would imagine, is being awake enough to string together groups of sentences into coherent paragraphs. I don't know that for sure, though.

As an experiment, I will try getting enough sleep and see if I am more coherent/interesting tomorrow. Naturally, I will have many moments of genius during the day when I am not blogging (snigger) but hopefully I will also retain a few pearls of wisdom with which I can enliven your existence. *

*Yes, that is sarcasm. I am too tired to be able to tell whether that is likely to be taken as patronising or as an example of irony. I am actually not of the opinion that your existence needs enlivening at all; it sounds rather exciting/relaxing/stimulating/terrifying** to me.

**Delete as appropriate.

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...

Caged

I am trapped in a cage. I made it myself. You would not expect anything less, I am sure.

It is nice and safe. It is hard to hurt me when I am behind these thick, strong bars that I made (ironmongery of the mind is one of my many talents). I have spent years forging them just so; they contain me.

I suppose that trapped isn't really the right word - I can get out of it. It's just that the door in the cage is very high on one of the walls.

When I get there I can either go straight ahead into another cage (tunnel-shaped; getting narrower), or jump into the unknown and see what happens. It is dark outside my cage; it could be a long fall and there may be nobody there to catch me, just people cheering me on from afar.

There could be another cage where I land. This cage could be less comfortable and safe.

I am building steps out of my cage. Once I get within grabbing distance of the door, though, it will be time to take action. I am building the steps slowly so that this does not happen too soon. As I said, it is safe within my cage.

My cage is not bare. There are plenty of playthings. They do not melt the bars, though.

My cage is portable. It won't go very far, but it does not have to stay in exactly the same place: some variety is permitted, although not welcomed. The doors have to be padlocked shut to facilitate any moving, and it is a while before they will be opened again.

I can still build the steps while I am waiting, though. I can stand at the door and try to gauge what will happen when I step through.

I actually feel as though I might explode. If this were not impossible, I would be mildly concerned. There would be limbs everywhere. People might trip.

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.

The carol service

Today was the day of the Christmas carol service. As you may be aware, I was feeling a little apprehensive about it, on account of being unable to play several last verses reliably without a congregation attached, let alone with one. Some of my other pieces were also decidedly dodgy. I was rather worried that I would play a wrong note at some point which would set a domino effect in motion and mean that I was unable to find any more right notes for the remainder of the verse.*

With this in mind, I was quite relaxed when I went to church this morning, except for the tension caused by my being late because I was tired and did not get out of bed on time. Again.** This morning's service seemed to go well - the vicar was a visiting one and she was lovely. She also sang very loudly, which gave the congregation a boost - it's not an overly enthusiastic congregation, singing-wise. My playing was fairly bad in terms of percentage of correct notes (the voluntary on the way out was so bad I gave up trying and made sure that I at least approximated one note out of every six in the last few bars - this did not make me feel hopeful about my playing in the evening), but the vicar said that it sounded good despite the woeful lack of tuning displayed by the organ (which is getting so much worse - the notes in the middle are out of tune now, too, not just the ones at the top of the keyboard). When I become an organ builder, that organ will see some changes. Except that I won't be in the area. But I digress.

After the service I had a quick practice session, and established that the pedal board on my organ is in bad shape, which did not come as a surprise. I have obviously been practising in great luxury on the chapel organ, which does not have wobbly pedals; I have been quite spoiled. The adversity is good for me, though - teach me to thrive in difficult circumstances. Eventually. I only played for about forty minutes to an hour, which went past surprisingly quickly (that is apparently what panic will do to me), as I needed to get lunch and my wrist was hurting.

I then went to Marks & Spencer and got a tasty risotto for lunch, which Heather and I heated up in her two microwaves (I know - such luxury!). It was very satisfactory, and much cheaper than eating out. Having checked my bank balance, I was in the mood for cheap.

After lunch I went to the chapel for the final rehearsal. I actually arrived 30 minutes early, which was very pleasing; I knew that the time of the rehearsal had a 3 in it, and sincerely hoped that it was 3.30 (it was) , but couldn't swear that it wasn't quarter to three. I arrived at 3, and got to hang around aimlessly for a bit.

We also rigged up a special system to hold the pages of my book open. I have no idea how familiar you are with the anatomy of a music stand on an organ, so I shall try to describe it to you. In most cases, the stand itself has a ledge on which one puts one's music, and there are four twirly bits of metal that stick up at the front (or lie down flat when not required) to stop the music books from closing, and also to reduce the probability of them sliding off the front of the music stand. The left middle twirly prong on this organ had been snapped off a while ago; as there was still a bit left in place, a new prong could not be inserted. The system we rigged up was very sophisticated - we tied bits of string round, and the music book could be slid underneath it - the string went from top to bottom, and sat on the outside edges of the left and right sides of the music book, so that they did not obscure any music. Genius! (Mis-spelled that on my first attempt...) When I am an organ builder I would very much like to incorporate a similar design feature (possibly optional) into my organs, as it works so much better than the twiddly knobs - it holds the whole height of the music where is it supposed to be, rather than just the bottom, and doesn't obscure any notes or footing marks. I think that those pieces of string will be staying there for a long time!

The rehearsal went quite well. O come, all ye faithful's last verse was rather a large amount of fun, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

I think that I ought to point out that I really love playing the organ sometimes - the feeling that I get when I am playing something loud and beautiful well is in my top three situations which make me feel good (one of the others is riding a horse in a field in summer when everything is going well...). I feel that I have complained about the organ and my lack of playing prowess rather too much, which may have led people to wonder why I bother.

The service itself did not start well; I did not play the first note at all, but started on the second note. This confused me, but I got the impression that nobody else noticed. Perhaps they are not very observant. There were a few other mistakes int he first carol, but nothing major.

After that I lose track of where it went wrong. There were at least two other introductions that I messed up (which is embarrassing as they are the easy bit - for the first introduction there was only one line, which was all played with my right hand), but people still didn't seem to notice. The last verse I was the most worried about went a bit wrong, but I picked it up and got to the end in style (very much enjoyed the second half of that last verse), and O come, all ye faithful's last verse had its moments (although not as good as in the rehearsal). All in all, my playing was mostly very good, with a liberal sprinkling of dodgy notes. I am glad that my teacher, Dave the Organist, was not there; he would have had many words to say about the quality of my playing, and they would certainly not all have been good. Now he can have the second-hand report, in which many of the dodgy notes never appeared.

Everyone I spoke to seemed to think that it went very well, so I think that I can conclude that I did not embarrass myself, and that none of the mistakes I made actually mattered. You know, it has just occurred to me that I achieved something**** - I successfully prepared a whole load of pieces in under five weeks (mostly in under three weeks), with pedals in many cases, and played them with lots of people to distract me. One piece had pedals throughout. I did lots of organist things, such as changing stops and opening and closing the swell box. Yay! I think that it will have done me a lot of good.

The parents and Anne came to listen - quite a long journey for a service lasting an hour, but I suppose that they don't get the opportunity to listen to me playing the organ very often. Nana wanted to come too, apparently, but Mother didn't think that she would be up to it - she walked to the village and back yesterday. There is not a problem, but back is uphill. I was impressed that she managed that, but slightly less so when I heard that Mother had gone with her - I had got the impression that she had gone to the village, then spontaneously navigated back to the house. Nonetheless that amount of walking is very good and very promising, depending on what one wants to be promised. I shall have to borrow Dave's organ and play for Nana some time over Christmas. Perhaps after a service so it isn't so deathly cold.

So that was it. Next year I shall be much better. And possibly located in a different area of the country altogether. Now I must put my newly improved skills to use and learn some of that music I bought in Oxford last weekend. It is supposed to be relatively simple, so I have high hopes.


*With the exception of the last chord - I have been confident with the last chord for a long time, and can reliably play it to an acceptable standard with acceptable timing, even when I fail to get any other notes right. It's just a talent that I have.

**Is the fact that I do not learn and modify my behaviour evidence that I am a bit thick, or just further evidence to support the theory that I am bone idle and need a kick up the backside?*** It's times like this which make me glad that I do not like my mattress much - imagine the trouble I would have if my bed were particularly comfortable!

***I realise that I did not cover every possibility here - there is not really enough information to allow you to come up with a working hypothesis. As such, there is no need for you to answer this question. Especially as I am not convinced that I want to know the answer. Ooh - another theory - I need more sleep! Then perhaps I would stop writing utter gibberish.

****I think it just occurred to me because I was so fixated on how it was probably all going to go wrong - I didn't even consider it going right as a possibility.

Woah

That last post was a while ago, wasn't it? Which is also what I said last time. Let's hope I don't make a habit of this.

On Wednesday I had my second joinery lesson, which went well. Apparently I can put down the chisel in an appropriate manner, which is considered to be a good sign. The magic I work when I pick up the chisel is, of course, overwhelmingly good. Ho hum. Nonetheless, it looks as though I may have the potential to wield it successfully and thus become an organ builder extraordinaire.

Yesterday I made three soaps. Using the same recipe helps - making in bulk is great! I only have one more soap that I absolutely must make before Christmas. Alas, I am nearly out of oils - olive, corn and hemp are getting somewhat desperate. Cocoa and shea butter are not looking good. Hazelnut oil is practically finished. Coconut, castor and palm oil are fine. Avocado is currently great, but will not be replenished when it runs out - I got this lot for free. My olive oil supplier* has stopped doing the olive oil that I need - the really cheap one which is cheap in so many ways. They now only do expensive ones, which are actually less good for soap making - a double disadvantage. Anyway, it is satisfying to be less far behind.

Sunday's carol preparations continue to go slowly. Today I practised playing with my eyes shut; I am hoping that this has reinforced the last verses enough that I will be able to play them with people singing (but with my eyes open, looking at the music - I was just trying to get the notes reinforced in my head). Apparently that can be useful in a carol service. Tomorrow I have the organ booked for three hours, but I am not convinced it will be enough. Perhaps I should ask them to postpone it for a week.

The preparations, apart from these verses, are actually going really well. Alas, adding in the pedals seems to be a bit too taxing for me. I can do it when there is nobody singing; even when there is someone singing we reach the last note at the same time (I have years of experience at reaching the last note at the same time); it's just many of the notes in between which are a problem. One of the sopranos in the choir kindly sang along with me this afternoon, to show up just how bad I am** (and to give me practice at keeping going), which was helpful. I shall have a few hours to sort this on Sunday. Mother reckons that I should just play the standard last verses, but I have plans to go out in a blaze of, erm, glory. I expect that my next update will be after the event (judging by precedent, it may be a while afterwards; please do not hold your breath).

Today I got home a little before HWSNBN. After a satisfyingly productive morning I had the afternoon off today (hooray - freedom!), and spent it singing carols at lunchtime and practising the organ afterwards. When I returned home afterwards, I was very tired. This was not at all due to staying up more than an hour after my bedtime e-mailing Elizabeth, of course. It was because I practised so effectively this afternoon. Tiring work. I went to sleep for three hours, which was nice. It is actually one of my favourite things, except for the effort involved with waking up. Now we are watching the television, and I am blogging (I know - radical!). And drinking wine. Very nice. Must get some more before Christmas, though.


*A supermarket, but a very specific branch of a specific supermarket.

**My words, not hers. Well not out loud, anyway.

Hello again

Well, that last update was a while ago, wasn't it? Sorry about that.

Apparently I am currently putting on the "watch Abi have a breakdown" show. We are still in very preliminary stages, where people are asking me whether or not I am sleeping properly (getting to sleep is taking far longer than is necessary), but it would appear that I am not putting on a very good front at the moment. However, Christmas is coming and bringing holiday with it. I have another six days I must take before Christmas, most of which I shall add to the beginning of the Christmas holiday - I should get about two weeks off, which should give me a bit of breathing space, along with a chance to catch up on sleep and (gasp) tidy the house.

It is very frustrating, though, this whole not coping thing. I know that I am in an enviable position - I have a secure job which I can do well, I have a committed boyfriend who is being very friendly, I do a lot of things I enjoy doing, my health is mostly good, and my family are great, and I have friends who are there for me when I call on them (although I do need to work on having enough time to be there for them, too, even when they don't call on me).

So yeah, I am a bit frustrated. And, to be honest, I am probably mostly blogging right now because there are things I need to get on with - some joinery homework with actual writing (which I tried and failed to complete on Sunday, on account of not being able to write anything better than "and this is strong because the big bits stick together very well because they have a very big surface area for the glue", and giving up in shame) and some soap making - there is only one month to get the stuff dry before Christmas, which is as long as it needs, which means that it all needs to be made by now at the latest. Which didn't happen. Which is not a good thing. I shall have to do some tomorrow. Which is what I said yesterday and the day before. But things got in the way.

I also need to practise the carols, but I did about 1 1/2 hours of (sometimes half-hearted) practice already, with the pedals, so that is less urgent.

Tomorrow I start to learn joinery so that the organ builder firm will consider my application to be an apprentice organ builder. I shall be making mortise and tenon joints, and endeavouring to avoid removing any fingers with a chisel (or any other sharp (or blunt) object, for that matter). I do not yet know whether or not I have an aptitude for this - it could be very embarrassing. On the plus side, if I am dreadful at this I can pursue the PhD guilt-free, as I will (hopefully) know that I have given organ building my best shot. As the time draws closer I am getting more apprehensive - this is going to require a lot of self-discipline. Which I am clearly not showing by blogging instead of describing mortise and tenon joints.

So that is where I am at. Not a happy little teddy bear, nor very coherent, nor on top of things, but confident that things will improve soon.

Bugger this. They won't improve soon enough for my liking, because the conditions for improvement are not there - I need more free time, and for a higher proportion of the things I do to be interesting - I want to achieve things, and to have time to achieve them well. I predict that things will improve either in a year, when the organ builders decide that I am the apprentice they really need because of my enthusiasm and excellent woodworking skills, or next September when I give up my job a month before the PhD starts so that I can stay somewhere cheap and calm for a bit (I'm thinking of one monastic community in particular). That is more realistic. They will get slightly better after this carol concert is over, though, assuming that I do not die of embarrassment during the event. It is looking promising, insofar as I thoroughly messed up the last verse of "O come all ye faithful", but it was pronounced a success by the conductor; if all that I have to do is play some notes, loudly, and finish at the same time as everyone else, I should have very few problems!

Sorry for moaning. I know that I shouldn't, but it was that or no update today. Anyway, it's all minor stuff - it's only thinking that makes it feel like more. Alas, I think a lot.