I don't drive very often. In fact, I generally only drive when I'm moving house or in Oxfordshire and with access to a car I'm insured on. Which is how I ended up driving tonight. I drove home last night as well but due to the joys of mist the feeling I got this night was simply absent yesterday.
And the feeling I got tonight? Well, it was that feeling of freedom and a slight “Well, what's stopping me from going to South Wales?” sense. The sense that there should be someone out there I could just drive to and surprise – but that right now there isn't. Memories of other late night journeys. And wondering when the dark got quite so dark. Because it really has seemed dark on the roads these past few nights. Odd feeling. Very odd.
Lovely evening with friends, however.
And there was a particular item of noteworthyness that was supposed to be inserted at this point. But my sleep addled brain forgets what it was. Hey ho.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
The Weather. A Reflection
The Brits are known for talking about the weather. Hardly surprising given there's a lot to talk about. Snow here? Snow there? But also, there's a lot of disappointment with the weather. "I wish I lived somewhere warmer." "Why is it always raining?" "I hate the snow!"
Which brings us to where it all really started. The snow. On the whole I'm in favour on the stuff. On Friday it was gorgeous - floating down gently and settling like a dusting of icing sugar on a cake...and because everyone seems to think that the cold is something to be avoided at all costs, I even had a platform of virgin (no pun intended) snow to tromp around in while waiting for my train to depart. Now, I recognise the snow also causes problems - any kind of extreme is going to - but fundamentally the weather is the weather.
Excuse me if I'm stating the obvious, but I'm going to do it anyway - the Earth and its systems is a force far greater than the human race. Yes, we can do big impressive things but throw an earthquake, flood or volcano eruption our way and there's little if anything we can do about it. Likewise the weather: we can't even predict it fully, and yet expressing a preference for one sort or another, and it seems particularly the snow, can land one being branded selfish and uncaring of all those for whom this particular type of weather causes problems.
I acknowledge the problems. I wish people didn't have to face them. But they do. And me enjoying the snow / rain / wind / [insert your least favourite weather type here] isn't going to make those problems any less. I've never gone in for weather dances and I don't intend to start now.
So instead, I intend to enjoy it. Enjoy the chilly tromps home through the snow (ranging from "gritted and through to the pavement" through "muddy on top, white on the bottom" to "veritable layer of snow still in place and crunchy"). Marvelling at the beauty it gives to trees, roof tops, hills. And just generally enjoying it. And hoping there's still some lurking when I get back to a house I suspect still has some sledges to hand... :)
Which brings us to where it all really started. The snow. On the whole I'm in favour on the stuff. On Friday it was gorgeous - floating down gently and settling like a dusting of icing sugar on a cake...and because everyone seems to think that the cold is something to be avoided at all costs, I even had a platform of virgin (no pun intended) snow to tromp around in while waiting for my train to depart. Now, I recognise the snow also causes problems - any kind of extreme is going to - but fundamentally the weather is the weather.
Excuse me if I'm stating the obvious, but I'm going to do it anyway - the Earth and its systems is a force far greater than the human race. Yes, we can do big impressive things but throw an earthquake, flood or volcano eruption our way and there's little if anything we can do about it. Likewise the weather: we can't even predict it fully, and yet expressing a preference for one sort or another, and it seems particularly the snow, can land one being branded selfish and uncaring of all those for whom this particular type of weather causes problems.
I acknowledge the problems. I wish people didn't have to face them. But they do. And me enjoying the snow / rain / wind / [insert your least favourite weather type here] isn't going to make those problems any less. I've never gone in for weather dances and I don't intend to start now.
So instead, I intend to enjoy it. Enjoy the chilly tromps home through the snow (ranging from "gritted and through to the pavement" through "muddy on top, white on the bottom" to "veritable layer of snow still in place and crunchy"). Marvelling at the beauty it gives to trees, roof tops, hills. And just generally enjoying it. And hoping there's still some lurking when I get back to a house I suspect still has some sledges to hand... :)
Thursday, December 16, 2010
What a difference a day makes
It's been a curious day.
Well, that's not entirely true. The day itself has been fairly straight forward. And feels like it's been more productive than yesterday (which I got through in a bit of a fuzzy overtired blur). But really what's coming to light are some inescapable truths. Like the fact a job, any job, every job, isn't done until it's done. And that means that a job I'd hoped would just "work itself out" won't. And that another job which I hadn't even imagined in the form it now looks to be evolving would be needed...and that actually, it is needed and will be ever so slightly epic in coming to fruition.
And also that creating balance in my life really is 100% down to me. Which I knew already but had to grab by the horns and start putting into practice. I feel like I've been floundering for a while and however frustrating it may be, I need to keep at it until whatever lightning bolt moment that needs to happen can. Which would be outstandingly marvellous and will, I'm sure, happen. The when is the biggest question.
But another interesting revelation for the day is that as much as I like Doing and seem to enjoy this a lot more than Being, large proportions of the world seem to err much more on the side of Being. And that the reason there are so many relationship dramas (dramas in every sense) is because it's about people Being and seeing where it takes them. Now, just because it seems to be the norm doesn't necessarily mean it's the way I should head, but it's a fascinating new idea to me. Strange as that may seem.
And what does it all mean? Quien sabe. Quien sabe indeed. But for now it means there's some washing in the washing machine that needs to come to be dried out, and some washing up that needs to be done in the process. Because ultimately the pondering is all well and good, but it's the doing that gets things done.
To analyse can be to paralyse, as I was reminded of earlier today.
Well, that's not entirely true. The day itself has been fairly straight forward. And feels like it's been more productive than yesterday (which I got through in a bit of a fuzzy overtired blur). But really what's coming to light are some inescapable truths. Like the fact a job, any job, every job, isn't done until it's done. And that means that a job I'd hoped would just "work itself out" won't. And that another job which I hadn't even imagined in the form it now looks to be evolving would be needed...and that actually, it is needed and will be ever so slightly epic in coming to fruition.
And also that creating balance in my life really is 100% down to me. Which I knew already but had to grab by the horns and start putting into practice. I feel like I've been floundering for a while and however frustrating it may be, I need to keep at it until whatever lightning bolt moment that needs to happen can. Which would be outstandingly marvellous and will, I'm sure, happen. The when is the biggest question.
But another interesting revelation for the day is that as much as I like Doing and seem to enjoy this a lot more than Being, large proportions of the world seem to err much more on the side of Being. And that the reason there are so many relationship dramas (dramas in every sense) is because it's about people Being and seeing where it takes them. Now, just because it seems to be the norm doesn't necessarily mean it's the way I should head, but it's a fascinating new idea to me. Strange as that may seem.
And what does it all mean? Quien sabe. Quien sabe indeed. But for now it means there's some washing in the washing machine that needs to come to be dried out, and some washing up that needs to be done in the process. Because ultimately the pondering is all well and good, but it's the doing that gets things done.
To analyse can be to paralyse, as I was reminded of earlier today.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Question time
How many questions? And where to start?
The day began outstandingly, and unexpectedly, thanks to Karen, Dolan, Joel & the new washing machine. It continued rather well with some ridiculous blips (life really can be ridiculous sometimes) and overall I still have no real idea what day of the week it is. Yesterday I was convinced it was Wednesday. Today I've been convinced it's Thursday. Tomorrow? Who knows.
But what is certainly true is that my brain is on overdrive for reasons I can't quite comprehend. Such as: being terribly excited at the realisation that my response to the outside world at the moment is mainly judged by my cheeks (if my cheeks hurt when I'm outside, it's REALLY cold. If they don't, it's just cold. I love my digital thermometer and it's seen me through some merry judge-the-weather-right-and-not-be-freezy-or-too-hot-on-my-bike times, but right now, my cheeks are thermometer supremo).
And speaking of the cold, at what temperature does water freeze immediately? I know it *freezes* at zero, but not very fast. What's the temperature at which it just doesn't survive as liquid?
I hope I get a grip on the days tomorrow. It's been a confusing week.
The day began outstandingly, and unexpectedly, thanks to Karen, Dolan, Joel & the new washing machine. It continued rather well with some ridiculous blips (life really can be ridiculous sometimes) and overall I still have no real idea what day of the week it is. Yesterday I was convinced it was Wednesday. Today I've been convinced it's Thursday. Tomorrow? Who knows.
But what is certainly true is that my brain is on overdrive for reasons I can't quite comprehend. Such as: being terribly excited at the realisation that my response to the outside world at the moment is mainly judged by my cheeks (if my cheeks hurt when I'm outside, it's REALLY cold. If they don't, it's just cold. I love my digital thermometer and it's seen me through some merry judge-the-weather-right-and-not-be-freezy-or-too-hot-on-my-bike times, but right now, my cheeks are thermometer supremo).
And speaking of the cold, at what temperature does water freeze immediately? I know it *freezes* at zero, but not very fast. What's the temperature at which it just doesn't survive as liquid?
I hope I get a grip on the days tomorrow. It's been a confusing week.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Some Girls Love Handbags
Some girls love handbags. But I am not some girls. Oh no, I am in the beginnings of a brand new love affair with a bag. A bag of such marvellousness I am astounded by its brilliance. A bag I find out more about every day...and love more and more. A bag unlike any other I've had before. A bag of joy. Of yellow linings and waterproof zips. Of velcro and clip fastenings. Of more pockets than even I would have thought of. A bag that is, quite simply, the C bag.
For a while now I've been yearning for an alternative bag for my Brompton – the one I inherited with the bike is great (can't remember what they call it, but it's basically a big boxy type affair you can get shed loads in...but is a nightmare to carry around when not attached to said Brompton) and after being alerted to the fact (in fairness several years ago, but good things come to those who ponder) that there are manufacturers of super cool panniers out there, I thought I'd go on the hunt. Now, the market for designed-for-Bromptons bags is fairly limited but it seems I've managed to be in the right era – because the C bag is a “second generation” bag. And it seems the improvements on the first go round are just plain marvellous. There's even a pocket I've yet to decide how to use! But I'm sure it'll be very useful when I do get round to deciding. Anyways, it's a super marvellous, very carryable, with bonus reflective bits to keep me safe while pedalling around courier-style bag made of super strong stuffs and it looks entirely durable. How it will fare with my kind of (ab)use time will tell, but it's ace all the same.
Even more so because my dearest Papa bought it for me for my birthday. Warm fuzzies all around.
However, somewhat more topical to the rest of the world is this whole affair of the snow. My fingers are very cold just now but that's more due to inadequate glovage than the snow specifically. My biggest concern has been whether or not to bring Billy (my Brompton) down to London for this weekend's jaunt and whether London had gone silly on the snow front but on reflection, London's proven more silly as a pedestrian than a cyclist in the snow previously and I expect it'll be much the same this time around. Plus I love the self-sufficiency of having a bike in London. No having my life determined by night buses and train timetables, or striking tube workers or, well, any of it. Huzzah. I've got a particularly vivid memory from last winter of walking back in the snow from Brixton one evening and the pavement being an absolute (and entirely unfun) ice-rink whereas the road had been well gritted and was a much better option. Give me a bike in the snow in London any day.
That said, give me a job within walking distance of my house with snow the rest of the time. I've really enjoyed living so close to work this past 7 months or so and in “extreme weather” it seems even more marvellous. (Marvellous seems to be the word of the day today. I make no apologies. Marvellous.) Yesterday as the “blizzard” was setting in and the folk I work with were being sent home I was merrily settling in for an afternoon pootling around in the office on my own. Bring out the Bose and with relatively little coming through on the phones I had a brilliant afternoon which ended with a rather unexpected chat which gave me a big ol' hunk of food for thought.
Watering my lavender plant got a lot easier – I could just open the velux, scoop up some snow / icy snow and pop it in the pot to melt in due course. Unlike my usual trick of watering too quickly and it going everywhere but the soil of the plant pot.
Hmm. Curious. Wakefield Westgate northbound platform has a bunch of luggage trolleys in the snow along the snowy bit of the platform. Seven that I can see, in fact. But why? I don't normally see them on platforms and the one closest to me should, apparently, not be taken away from York Station. Mystery.
Anyway, yet again the country has been gripped (or the media leads us to believe has been gripped) by snow panic. I love the snow. It doesn't panic me. Yes, extra precautions should be taken and recklessness is just silly, but overall snow, and particularly this amount of snow, is really magical. It's water. But frozen in a special way so it piles up in white mounds which, at their best, are fluffy and powdery and sparkle in the light. Of course, it does cause real problems for many people, in particular making moving around even more treacherous than usual, but it's also one of those magical things about nature / the planet / the existence we reside in.
My ability to move around in the midst of significant snow-fall in Britain is also an interesting reflection. Factoring in an additional hour or so on my journey, travelling during Snowville periods is often more pleasant than usual – what would usually be a very busy commuter-time train to London is sparsely filled with passengers – I have a table of 4 seats to myself and from what I've seen at stations we've already passed that's not going to change much. There are a number of windows in the train (including the one opposite mine) where the outer pane has shattered through an impact – I heard someone say they thought it was people throwing snow balls at the train. If so, boo. Not good form in the slightest.
So that's me. Snow and bike bags. The essence of marvellousness.
For a while now I've been yearning for an alternative bag for my Brompton – the one I inherited with the bike is great (can't remember what they call it, but it's basically a big boxy type affair you can get shed loads in...but is a nightmare to carry around when not attached to said Brompton) and after being alerted to the fact (in fairness several years ago, but good things come to those who ponder) that there are manufacturers of super cool panniers out there, I thought I'd go on the hunt. Now, the market for designed-for-Bromptons bags is fairly limited but it seems I've managed to be in the right era – because the C bag is a “second generation” bag. And it seems the improvements on the first go round are just plain marvellous. There's even a pocket I've yet to decide how to use! But I'm sure it'll be very useful when I do get round to deciding. Anyways, it's a super marvellous, very carryable, with bonus reflective bits to keep me safe while pedalling around courier-style bag made of super strong stuffs and it looks entirely durable. How it will fare with my kind of (ab)use time will tell, but it's ace all the same.
Even more so because my dearest Papa bought it for me for my birthday. Warm fuzzies all around.
However, somewhat more topical to the rest of the world is this whole affair of the snow. My fingers are very cold just now but that's more due to inadequate glovage than the snow specifically. My biggest concern has been whether or not to bring Billy (my Brompton) down to London for this weekend's jaunt and whether London had gone silly on the snow front but on reflection, London's proven more silly as a pedestrian than a cyclist in the snow previously and I expect it'll be much the same this time around. Plus I love the self-sufficiency of having a bike in London. No having my life determined by night buses and train timetables, or striking tube workers or, well, any of it. Huzzah. I've got a particularly vivid memory from last winter of walking back in the snow from Brixton one evening and the pavement being an absolute (and entirely unfun) ice-rink whereas the road had been well gritted and was a much better option. Give me a bike in the snow in London any day.
That said, give me a job within walking distance of my house with snow the rest of the time. I've really enjoyed living so close to work this past 7 months or so and in “extreme weather” it seems even more marvellous. (Marvellous seems to be the word of the day today. I make no apologies. Marvellous.) Yesterday as the “blizzard” was setting in and the folk I work with were being sent home I was merrily settling in for an afternoon pootling around in the office on my own. Bring out the Bose and with relatively little coming through on the phones I had a brilliant afternoon which ended with a rather unexpected chat which gave me a big ol' hunk of food for thought.
Watering my lavender plant got a lot easier – I could just open the velux, scoop up some snow / icy snow and pop it in the pot to melt in due course. Unlike my usual trick of watering too quickly and it going everywhere but the soil of the plant pot.
Hmm. Curious. Wakefield Westgate northbound platform has a bunch of luggage trolleys in the snow along the snowy bit of the platform. Seven that I can see, in fact. But why? I don't normally see them on platforms and the one closest to me should, apparently, not be taken away from York Station. Mystery.
Anyway, yet again the country has been gripped (or the media leads us to believe has been gripped) by snow panic. I love the snow. It doesn't panic me. Yes, extra precautions should be taken and recklessness is just silly, but overall snow, and particularly this amount of snow, is really magical. It's water. But frozen in a special way so it piles up in white mounds which, at their best, are fluffy and powdery and sparkle in the light. Of course, it does cause real problems for many people, in particular making moving around even more treacherous than usual, but it's also one of those magical things about nature / the planet / the existence we reside in.
My ability to move around in the midst of significant snow-fall in Britain is also an interesting reflection. Factoring in an additional hour or so on my journey, travelling during Snowville periods is often more pleasant than usual – what would usually be a very busy commuter-time train to London is sparsely filled with passengers – I have a table of 4 seats to myself and from what I've seen at stations we've already passed that's not going to change much. There are a number of windows in the train (including the one opposite mine) where the outer pane has shattered through an impact – I heard someone say they thought it was people throwing snow balls at the train. If so, boo. Not good form in the slightest.
So that's me. Snow and bike bags. The essence of marvellousness.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Often it's the Small Things
Merry Morecambe again - hurrah. I really must remember that when getting to my weekend location I should just write off Friday night - yesterday was a particularly prime example of this. I was exhausted. Hungry. And travelling. However, having made it to my destination, had some food and just *arrived* life felt immensely better - and waking up this morning in the location I most like to be in was definitely worth the slightly-grotty feeling I subjected myself to on the train.
And the internet seems to have fixed itself, which is always a bonus.
Glorious sunshine met me this morning and as I wandered out into the world it was positively balmy (for November). A slow expedition into town resulted in various little purchases including new clothes, new boots and the ingredients for "bread-roll pizza" (like baguette pizza...but on bread rolls). It did not, however, result in me finding some pyjama bottoms which was one of the main reasons for the shopping trip (or, indeed, cheap coconut milk) but having got home I've discovered some fabric which should be up to the job and I think a little sewing session this afternoon is pretty much exactly what the doctor ordered. (Not that there's a doctor or any ordering going on, but the point stands).
I also verified that the tide today is higher than I've ever seen it - it looked higher than usual as I wandered along the prom into town (did I mention the glorious sunshine?) and on heading down the Serengeti (or Stone Jetty, depending whether you're me & my parents or the rest of the world) the bottom "offshoots" were partially submerged and the water was only a foot or two from the platform at the very bottom of the jetty. Clearly I have still got lots to learn about the tides here! Having found myself a bench down there a spot of sunshiney reading was in order before continuing my wander around.
I also did something I've never done before just as I was wrapping up the shopping trip - but more on that at another time.
There really isn't anything quite like pottering around in a comfortable environment - top marks, Morecambe!
And the internet seems to have fixed itself, which is always a bonus.
Glorious sunshine met me this morning and as I wandered out into the world it was positively balmy (for November). A slow expedition into town resulted in various little purchases including new clothes, new boots and the ingredients for "bread-roll pizza" (like baguette pizza...but on bread rolls). It did not, however, result in me finding some pyjama bottoms which was one of the main reasons for the shopping trip (or, indeed, cheap coconut milk) but having got home I've discovered some fabric which should be up to the job and I think a little sewing session this afternoon is pretty much exactly what the doctor ordered. (Not that there's a doctor or any ordering going on, but the point stands).
I also verified that the tide today is higher than I've ever seen it - it looked higher than usual as I wandered along the prom into town (did I mention the glorious sunshine?) and on heading down the Serengeti (or Stone Jetty, depending whether you're me & my parents or the rest of the world) the bottom "offshoots" were partially submerged and the water was only a foot or two from the platform at the very bottom of the jetty. Clearly I have still got lots to learn about the tides here! Having found myself a bench down there a spot of sunshiney reading was in order before continuing my wander around.
I also did something I've never done before just as I was wrapping up the shopping trip - but more on that at another time.
There really isn't anything quite like pottering around in a comfortable environment - top marks, Morecambe!
Friday, September 3, 2010
Scotland always makes in better
After a day of epic proportions yesterday (mentally, emotionally, volume-of-stuff-done-in-short-space-of-time-ly) there's nothing quite like settling into a sofa in a comfy living room of a *gorgeous* B&B and knowing that the furthest I need to travel for the next few days is a couple of miles. Hoo har. Made it up to Pitlochry on the sleeper overnight (after a "last chance saloon" hurtle to the train station and a rather cold wait at Preston before jumping on the sleeper) and found my way to my accommodation for the weekend, Wellwood House, very easily. Even better: they let me in, showed me to aforementioned very comfy living room and then offered me breakfast! Woo!
I'm now somewhat procrastinating before packing up all my stuff and pootling into town to meet a friend (who lives locally but I haven't seen in well over a year) then catching up with Cousin-Who-Lives-In-Australia plus husband this afternoon. After that, my plans will change with the wind, I'm sure! But really I should get a wriggle on and get myself to the place I need to be for the time I need to be there. Off I go...
I'm now somewhat procrastinating before packing up all my stuff and pootling into town to meet a friend (who lives locally but I haven't seen in well over a year) then catching up with Cousin-Who-Lives-In-Australia plus husband this afternoon. After that, my plans will change with the wind, I'm sure! But really I should get a wriggle on and get myself to the place I need to be for the time I need to be there. Off I go...
Sunday, August 22, 2010
If anyone ever tries to claim that the English Summer Holiday is dead...send them to me!
As ever, this is brought to you from yet another train journey. And yet I'm finding something immensely satisfying about my current predicament. I'm at Preston with my 50 minute wait for the train through to Hebden (a staple of journeys from Morecambe to Hebden – unfortunately the services from Lancaster get in mere minutes after the previous hour's service has gone) and although I sometimes find this a veritable pain, today, it's almost pleasurable. I have a rucsac of stuff next to me, along with my intrepid Tardis Bag, and, most amusingly, I am now using the laptop bag from a Compaq the Gardiner clan had years and years and years ago as my laptop bag – because it's the right size! Means the gorgeous black and orange fluffy “envelope” my Mum & I made for my Accenture laptop will probably be retired for the foreseeable future, but it was just a rather happy coincidence. Anyway, it now means that I can slide my laptop in and out of said laptop case while it's still inside aforementioned rucsac – which may not sound much, but I find immensely satisfying. Along with just a general feeling of calm as I sit here surveying a rather quiet (and yet still with plenty of trains passing through) Preston station on a Sunday evening. Maybe it was the homemade houmous pitta I have just eaten. Or perhaps, the glorious week long English Summer Holiday I've just had...
And so to the blog title: my holiday this year was spent in Morecambe it was outstanding. I was there for a week (including 2 weekends) and there was glorious sunshine pretty much every day – there was only one day that stands out as really not being sunny, and even then it was pleasantly warm. I remain utterly blown away by Morecambe Bay – even more so now I have a growing interest in the band of kite surfers who go out from the Battery. I had friends visiting throughout the week and they all loved it – both Chez Tigs and Morecambe as a whole. The days when I was on my own I pottered around the house, sat on the beach in the sun reading, or went wandering across the sands (near the coast, I'm not off on intrepid / stupid expeditions across the sands on my own. That'd be crazy) or rollerblading on the prom. Even when it rained I was out on my blades – and somehow ended up at a roller disco at the infamous Carleton on Saturday night. Next challenge: learn how to go backwards!
Point being, there was loads of sun, sand, sea and just a fabulous place to spend time. I had more sun on this holiday than I remember having in France on family holidays when we sometimes ended up resigned to another day playing cards in a soggy tent (not that said days weren't enjoyable in their own sweet way, but the key point here is the sunshine factor). I'm probably more tanned after some short reading sessions than my colleague who spent a week “in the sun” earlier in the month. It was just brilliant. The simple pleasures of a beach holiday combined with being in my fabulous house made it marvellous marvellous and marvellous. And had I wanted it, I had historic Lancaster on my doorstep to amuse me with cultural heritage and the like – but all I wanted was sun and beach and Morecambey goodness. Good times.
I've also had a lot of success creating more patchwork curtains for some of the rooms in Chez Tigs, most notably in the front room bay. All the windows in the house (except in the basement which doesn't count) have curtains at the moment but some are curtains I inherited with the house which I'm not particularly fond of. Until about 6 hours ago that included the front room bay window curtains – they were OK, but had no fullness, were bit faded and just somehow didn't bring the funness to the room I wanted. Now, when I started my epic mission to get curtains I liked throughout the house I had various options – including buying lots of fabric and the agonising decisions of what fabric to buy. Having a large quantity of fabric already, just not sufficient of any one pattern / colour to make “matching” curtains I opted for patchwork curtains – with large chunks of different fabrics sewn together to make the size I needed. The same went for the lining fabrics too occasionally, but thankfully not too often. Not only has this meant I now have wonderfully colourful curtains which combine fabrics I've bought, inherited (some of which I remember being curtains when I was growing up) or otherwise acquired, it also means I've made significant headway in reducing the Fabric Mountain which I've been carting around with me for the past few years. I think I'm almost there on the curtain front now – next on the list? Patchwork bedspreads and / or quilts. Hurrah!
The week also found me spending some time clearing out the basement – I've a long way to go but there's now one room which has been cleared, swept and sorted. As well as giving me the satisfaction of clean and tidy space, it's also got me thinking about the bits and pieces in the house that I just don't need – and so I've started Freegle-ing them (same principle as Freecycle: an email list that you can tell people about stuff you are giving away for free, folk who are interested get in touch and then you arrange between you the best pick up time etc.). Some fishing kit I had in the basement was immensely popular, as were some baby items. Some furniture I offered up had more mixed responses – one piece proved entirely undesireable and the other I had 4 “yes please”s for, 2 of which I offered it to and they never got back to me. Ho hum – shall try the third and, if necessary, the fourth and see if they fancy a collection next Monday when I'll be back...after an exciting adventure in Barrow in Furness where I'll be learning how to kite surf! Woo!
More basement shenanigans came in the form of having 3 different builders come round to get an idea of some jobs I need doing – and to give me initial thoughts on basement conversion costs. Which in itself got me thinking about a whole host of possibilities which would require the services of an architect – but could be really fun and could bring the basement back into use with a vengeance.
And overall I feel like I've started making headway on how to make Morecambe work for me. I've loved it for well over 2 years now, and Chez Tigs has been in my life for 2 years next weekend, but other than a somewhat unexpected and unexplainable love, it hasn't made much sense. Now I find myself discovering Morecambe-specific fun to entertain myself with (rollerblading on the prom, the potential of kite surfing) and really settling into the house. Which only leaves...working out what I can do in Morecambe which means I can actually be there for a larger chunk of time. Thoughts so far: start my own company / co-operative so I'd be working in a team doing....something. Perhaps some kind of consultancy for businesses in Lancashire / Cumbria so Morecambe wouldn't be an entirely crazy place to base myself from, but at the moment that's where the idea ends. It's definitely not setting up a massage business, although there will likely remain elements of that in my life generally. And it won't necessarily happen overnight – in fact, I don't expect it to happen for a couple of years, but it really feels like a seed has been planted and now it just needs nurturing.
Watch this space.
And so to the blog title: my holiday this year was spent in Morecambe it was outstanding. I was there for a week (including 2 weekends) and there was glorious sunshine pretty much every day – there was only one day that stands out as really not being sunny, and even then it was pleasantly warm. I remain utterly blown away by Morecambe Bay – even more so now I have a growing interest in the band of kite surfers who go out from the Battery. I had friends visiting throughout the week and they all loved it – both Chez Tigs and Morecambe as a whole. The days when I was on my own I pottered around the house, sat on the beach in the sun reading, or went wandering across the sands (near the coast, I'm not off on intrepid / stupid expeditions across the sands on my own. That'd be crazy) or rollerblading on the prom. Even when it rained I was out on my blades – and somehow ended up at a roller disco at the infamous Carleton on Saturday night. Next challenge: learn how to go backwards!
Point being, there was loads of sun, sand, sea and just a fabulous place to spend time. I had more sun on this holiday than I remember having in France on family holidays when we sometimes ended up resigned to another day playing cards in a soggy tent (not that said days weren't enjoyable in their own sweet way, but the key point here is the sunshine factor). I'm probably more tanned after some short reading sessions than my colleague who spent a week “in the sun” earlier in the month. It was just brilliant. The simple pleasures of a beach holiday combined with being in my fabulous house made it marvellous marvellous and marvellous. And had I wanted it, I had historic Lancaster on my doorstep to amuse me with cultural heritage and the like – but all I wanted was sun and beach and Morecambey goodness. Good times.
I've also had a lot of success creating more patchwork curtains for some of the rooms in Chez Tigs, most notably in the front room bay. All the windows in the house (except in the basement which doesn't count) have curtains at the moment but some are curtains I inherited with the house which I'm not particularly fond of. Until about 6 hours ago that included the front room bay window curtains – they were OK, but had no fullness, were bit faded and just somehow didn't bring the funness to the room I wanted. Now, when I started my epic mission to get curtains I liked throughout the house I had various options – including buying lots of fabric and the agonising decisions of what fabric to buy. Having a large quantity of fabric already, just not sufficient of any one pattern / colour to make “matching” curtains I opted for patchwork curtains – with large chunks of different fabrics sewn together to make the size I needed. The same went for the lining fabrics too occasionally, but thankfully not too often. Not only has this meant I now have wonderfully colourful curtains which combine fabrics I've bought, inherited (some of which I remember being curtains when I was growing up) or otherwise acquired, it also means I've made significant headway in reducing the Fabric Mountain which I've been carting around with me for the past few years. I think I'm almost there on the curtain front now – next on the list? Patchwork bedspreads and / or quilts. Hurrah!
The week also found me spending some time clearing out the basement – I've a long way to go but there's now one room which has been cleared, swept and sorted. As well as giving me the satisfaction of clean and tidy space, it's also got me thinking about the bits and pieces in the house that I just don't need – and so I've started Freegle-ing them (same principle as Freecycle: an email list that you can tell people about stuff you are giving away for free, folk who are interested get in touch and then you arrange between you the best pick up time etc.). Some fishing kit I had in the basement was immensely popular, as were some baby items. Some furniture I offered up had more mixed responses – one piece proved entirely undesireable and the other I had 4 “yes please”s for, 2 of which I offered it to and they never got back to me. Ho hum – shall try the third and, if necessary, the fourth and see if they fancy a collection next Monday when I'll be back...after an exciting adventure in Barrow in Furness where I'll be learning how to kite surf! Woo!
More basement shenanigans came in the form of having 3 different builders come round to get an idea of some jobs I need doing – and to give me initial thoughts on basement conversion costs. Which in itself got me thinking about a whole host of possibilities which would require the services of an architect – but could be really fun and could bring the basement back into use with a vengeance.
And overall I feel like I've started making headway on how to make Morecambe work for me. I've loved it for well over 2 years now, and Chez Tigs has been in my life for 2 years next weekend, but other than a somewhat unexpected and unexplainable love, it hasn't made much sense. Now I find myself discovering Morecambe-specific fun to entertain myself with (rollerblading on the prom, the potential of kite surfing) and really settling into the house. Which only leaves...working out what I can do in Morecambe which means I can actually be there for a larger chunk of time. Thoughts so far: start my own company / co-operative so I'd be working in a team doing....something. Perhaps some kind of consultancy for businesses in Lancashire / Cumbria so Morecambe wouldn't be an entirely crazy place to base myself from, but at the moment that's where the idea ends. It's definitely not setting up a massage business, although there will likely remain elements of that in my life generally. And it won't necessarily happen overnight – in fact, I don't expect it to happen for a couple of years, but it really feels like a seed has been planted and now it just needs nurturing.
Watch this space.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
The Long Way
Today has very much been a day for doing things the long way. Be it distance, time or both. But it has also had some interesting revelations. And lots of ponderance (possibly more than was required, but these things happen). And *now* the day has chocolate. Which always makes things infinitely better.
So, as my weekends are beginning to do on a fairly regular basis, it started earlier than was entirely necessary which resulted in a relatively prompt departure from Hebden off on the day's first adventure. Yesterday was my last day at work for a week and I'm now looking forward to a week in Morecambe with various friends visiting during the week. However, there was no particular urgency to get over to Morecambe today so I thought I'd take the opportunity to take the scenic route to Morecambe....via Carlisle.
You see, the tourist board people would have you believe that the line between Settle & Carlisle is one of the most stunning in the country, so much so they do regular "go on a steam train and make an outing of it" trips up there. Anyway, bit of a diversion for my usual trips to Morecambe, but thought I'd see what all the fuss was about. Unfortunately my overwhelming sense is that it is, in fact, a lot of fuss. The countryside is nice, but as a train-views connoisseur, it wasn't outstanding. The coastal line up to Aberdeen, and the track between Perth & Inverness would be higher up my list - actually, probably even the Lake-District-and-further-north bit of the West Coast mainline. So in some ways it was a bit disappointing, but I was glad to have done it as I now have my own informed opinion of it...
So that was long way round numero uno.
Having got to Carlisle I thought I'd have a wander around - found an art exhibition at the cathedral, wandered in the cathedral itself and was going to go in the castle but after a "no thank you, I'm happy perusing on my own" conversation not ending and resulting in me having to decline assistance repeatedly, I decided sitting in the sun just outside the castle reading was a much better option. Carlisle seems to be a very tourist-friendly city: there are a number of different sites within very easy walking distance and if you're there for longer there's plenty within easy reach as well. A house which is now a museum (name of which I now forget) had a lovely medicinal / edible garden in the style it would have been a couple of hundred years back which I enjoyed - although the champagne flute hiding in a flower bed was a tad random.
Back to the station (having studiously avoided the many charity shops I saw - only to see a friend had specifically mentioned them on my return to a computer!) and the first train departing going my direction was one...that went all the way around the Cumbrian coast. Another long way round: this time both distance & timewise. When I'd looked up train times Carlisle - Morecambe earlier it was either 1 hr and 7 min, or 1 hr and about 30 min. This train took 3 and a half hours just to get to Lancaster. But that was the way today went - so on I hoped!
It being Cumbria the train went right past Sellafield which brought back memories of going to peace camps there - and turning up by train with a huge heap of stuff! I spent the journey variously snoozing, gazing and reading (a book of little essays on the philosophy of various little bits of life - the easiest-to-read philosophy book I've come across thus far) and found myself in Lancaster just after 7pm. The next train on to Morecambe wasn't for half an hour or so, so I thought I'd pop into town to get some food...
...popping into town turned into failing to get food and walking back to Morecambe, it being a gloriously sunny evening and having spent most of the day just sitting watching the world go by. Don't think I'd choose to walk it again (it's a nice cycle, but a bit longer than I'd choose for a walk which isn't taking in amazing vistas) but it felt like the right thing to do. Albeit the longer (time wise) one. As well as taking the long route, today's journeys have all been a continual "going forward" - none of them have gone back over the same ground. There's something I quite like about that feeling.
The Morecambe house is still standing although I think everyone's out tonight as it's rather quiet - which suits me. Walking along the front I saw one of the flats in the block at the end of my street which look out on the sea was for sale...which reminded me of another property for sale I'd seen in Hebden. I looked up the Hebden one and it was pretty much the price I'd expected it to be. I looked up the Morecambe one and was both pleasantly surprised to see that the property prices seem to be making a bit of a recovery and also completely befuddled by the fact that 2 bed flats were on the market for more than I paid for my lovely lovely house. Craziness.
And after all today's fun and games, I seem to have decided it's time to make a serious dent in my chocolate supplies. Which I'm succeeding in doing rather well :)
So, as my weekends are beginning to do on a fairly regular basis, it started earlier than was entirely necessary which resulted in a relatively prompt departure from Hebden off on the day's first adventure. Yesterday was my last day at work for a week and I'm now looking forward to a week in Morecambe with various friends visiting during the week. However, there was no particular urgency to get over to Morecambe today so I thought I'd take the opportunity to take the scenic route to Morecambe....via Carlisle.
You see, the tourist board people would have you believe that the line between Settle & Carlisle is one of the most stunning in the country, so much so they do regular "go on a steam train and make an outing of it" trips up there. Anyway, bit of a diversion for my usual trips to Morecambe, but thought I'd see what all the fuss was about. Unfortunately my overwhelming sense is that it is, in fact, a lot of fuss. The countryside is nice, but as a train-views connoisseur, it wasn't outstanding. The coastal line up to Aberdeen, and the track between Perth & Inverness would be higher up my list - actually, probably even the Lake-District-and-further-north bit of the West Coast mainline. So in some ways it was a bit disappointing, but I was glad to have done it as I now have my own informed opinion of it...
So that was long way round numero uno.
Having got to Carlisle I thought I'd have a wander around - found an art exhibition at the cathedral, wandered in the cathedral itself and was going to go in the castle but after a "no thank you, I'm happy perusing on my own" conversation not ending and resulting in me having to decline assistance repeatedly, I decided sitting in the sun just outside the castle reading was a much better option. Carlisle seems to be a very tourist-friendly city: there are a number of different sites within very easy walking distance and if you're there for longer there's plenty within easy reach as well. A house which is now a museum (name of which I now forget) had a lovely medicinal / edible garden in the style it would have been a couple of hundred years back which I enjoyed - although the champagne flute hiding in a flower bed was a tad random.
Back to the station (having studiously avoided the many charity shops I saw - only to see a friend had specifically mentioned them on my return to a computer!) and the first train departing going my direction was one...that went all the way around the Cumbrian coast. Another long way round: this time both distance & timewise. When I'd looked up train times Carlisle - Morecambe earlier it was either 1 hr and 7 min, or 1 hr and about 30 min. This train took 3 and a half hours just to get to Lancaster. But that was the way today went - so on I hoped!
It being Cumbria the train went right past Sellafield which brought back memories of going to peace camps there - and turning up by train with a huge heap of stuff! I spent the journey variously snoozing, gazing and reading (a book of little essays on the philosophy of various little bits of life - the easiest-to-read philosophy book I've come across thus far) and found myself in Lancaster just after 7pm. The next train on to Morecambe wasn't for half an hour or so, so I thought I'd pop into town to get some food...
...popping into town turned into failing to get food and walking back to Morecambe, it being a gloriously sunny evening and having spent most of the day just sitting watching the world go by. Don't think I'd choose to walk it again (it's a nice cycle, but a bit longer than I'd choose for a walk which isn't taking in amazing vistas) but it felt like the right thing to do. Albeit the longer (time wise) one. As well as taking the long route, today's journeys have all been a continual "going forward" - none of them have gone back over the same ground. There's something I quite like about that feeling.
The Morecambe house is still standing although I think everyone's out tonight as it's rather quiet - which suits me. Walking along the front I saw one of the flats in the block at the end of my street which look out on the sea was for sale...which reminded me of another property for sale I'd seen in Hebden. I looked up the Hebden one and it was pretty much the price I'd expected it to be. I looked up the Morecambe one and was both pleasantly surprised to see that the property prices seem to be making a bit of a recovery and also completely befuddled by the fact that 2 bed flats were on the market for more than I paid for my lovely lovely house. Craziness.
And after all today's fun and games, I seem to have decided it's time to make a serious dent in my chocolate supplies. Which I'm succeeding in doing rather well :)
Sunday, August 8, 2010
And this weekend I am mostly surviving on...
...teacakes and lime marmalade. Yum! Another quiet weekend in Tiggerland and this weekend I did actually manage to make it over to the cheap supermarket in Tod - which does fabulous vegan teacakes and also stocks my favourite lime marmalade - Roses. It being a lazy weekend I wasn't really in the mood for cooking hence the teacakes are almost gone but I'm feeling good on it!
Also did something I haven't done since starting this job this weekend - which was going into the office. Now, part of me really was resisting going on because I thought it would be the start of a slippery slope but actually, it was spot on. I went in because I wanted to - because there were a couple of loose ends I wanted to tidy up before next week started (which I normally would have done on Friday evening, but I had a massage at the end of the day and it just doesn't make sense to go back to work after a massage!) and because actually, I felt like I was festering at home and wanted to *do* something. Working for NO HANDS is very different from previous jobs - because I actually believe in what they're doing and want to support it. In actual fact, there are very few weekends when I'm around in Hebden and hence won't really find myself in the position to go in that often on weekends but overall I'm feeling pretty good about it.
Also just given my room the once over with a duster, my "noodle" mop (works wet & dry!) and even cleaned my windows. Get me and my domestication! Unfortunately one of the windows has condensation between the two double glazing panes but they both had quite a lot of lichen on them which has now been cleared off and the one over my bed is looking infinitely better - well, they both are but it's more noticeable on that one. Again, noodle mop came into its own although it's now very much in need of a thorough wash. That's on the menu for a little later in the day as I've a friend coming over for a massage swap.
These quiet weekends really are novel - not sure I want them to become the norm, but now and then is pretty nice!
Also did something I haven't done since starting this job this weekend - which was going into the office. Now, part of me really was resisting going on because I thought it would be the start of a slippery slope but actually, it was spot on. I went in because I wanted to - because there were a couple of loose ends I wanted to tidy up before next week started (which I normally would have done on Friday evening, but I had a massage at the end of the day and it just doesn't make sense to go back to work after a massage!) and because actually, I felt like I was festering at home and wanted to *do* something. Working for NO HANDS is very different from previous jobs - because I actually believe in what they're doing and want to support it. In actual fact, there are very few weekends when I'm around in Hebden and hence won't really find myself in the position to go in that often on weekends but overall I'm feeling pretty good about it.
Also just given my room the once over with a duster, my "noodle" mop (works wet & dry!) and even cleaned my windows. Get me and my domestication! Unfortunately one of the windows has condensation between the two double glazing panes but they both had quite a lot of lichen on them which has now been cleared off and the one over my bed is looking infinitely better - well, they both are but it's more noticeable on that one. Again, noodle mop came into its own although it's now very much in need of a thorough wash. That's on the menu for a little later in the day as I've a friend coming over for a massage swap.
These quiet weekends really are novel - not sure I want them to become the norm, but now and then is pretty nice!
Saturday, July 31, 2010
The Marvels of Unexpected Change
This morning, I'm having a lazy Saturday morning. This is somewhat of a new experience - not entirely, of course, but not the usual. The plan had been to get up, cycle about 5 miles over to Tod, do some shopping, come back, do useful stuff blah blah blah. Instead, I rolled over about 8am, picked up a book, dozed, read, wondered how to get out of bed, had a bath, made a smoothie and now, two and a half hours later, I'm still not dressed but snuggled on my attic couch under my polar-bear blanket reading, occasionally tapping away on my laptop (like now) and generally realising that yes, I am allowed to have a quiet morning of doing, well, pretty much nothing!
At the moment I'm living between two abodes - both of which I love in very different ways. Where I am right now, in Hebden, is a gorgeous room with lots of light, right by the canal, up in the attic, oodles of space and just a lovely feel to it. I told my landlady the other day how much I enjoy living here and she was really touched (bless). But it's true - I've really landed on my feet with this abode and it very much feels like a Tigger room, especially now I've moved the furniture around 2 or 3 times!
However, it lacks the random jobs that aren't urgent but need doing at some point - of which there are oodles and oodles in Morecambe. Last weekend when I was there I realised that all those jobs will happen - when the time is right. For example, the back room on the ground floor had a going over, simply because I had a bit of time at the end of the afternoon before catching my train and I felt like shifting boxes and stuff. And it now looks lovely (not entirely functional but that's easily changed in about 30 seconds by dragging chairs out from under the bed to more sociable positions) and much more "finished". Obviously, it's not entirely finished (still some of those non-urgent jobs lurking, like making the boxing in round the electrics a bit tidier, boxing in the water pipes and sorting out FabricLand) but in a *much* better state ahead of the fun of folks coming to stay in August. I also really noticed a) how much stuff I have and b) how much rooms in Morecambe really feel like home. I think my developing relationship with the house over such a long time (without spending much time there at all) has worked really well and the incessant "must get everything done!" feeling has also eased - although I do now have a veritable workshop in the basement. A workshop that needs tidying, mind, but a workshop all the same. And two blown light bulbs (including one where the light fitting has gone as well) but in bits of the basement I can ignore for the time being.
Point being, there's a bit of a shift going on at the moment and I like it. Maybe this is what "getting older" is all about, but actually I think it's just finding a new level of "Relax" which is ace. :)
At the moment I'm living between two abodes - both of which I love in very different ways. Where I am right now, in Hebden, is a gorgeous room with lots of light, right by the canal, up in the attic, oodles of space and just a lovely feel to it. I told my landlady the other day how much I enjoy living here and she was really touched (bless). But it's true - I've really landed on my feet with this abode and it very much feels like a Tigger room, especially now I've moved the furniture around 2 or 3 times!
However, it lacks the random jobs that aren't urgent but need doing at some point - of which there are oodles and oodles in Morecambe. Last weekend when I was there I realised that all those jobs will happen - when the time is right. For example, the back room on the ground floor had a going over, simply because I had a bit of time at the end of the afternoon before catching my train and I felt like shifting boxes and stuff. And it now looks lovely (not entirely functional but that's easily changed in about 30 seconds by dragging chairs out from under the bed to more sociable positions) and much more "finished". Obviously, it's not entirely finished (still some of those non-urgent jobs lurking, like making the boxing in round the electrics a bit tidier, boxing in the water pipes and sorting out FabricLand) but in a *much* better state ahead of the fun of folks coming to stay in August. I also really noticed a) how much stuff I have and b) how much rooms in Morecambe really feel like home. I think my developing relationship with the house over such a long time (without spending much time there at all) has worked really well and the incessant "must get everything done!" feeling has also eased - although I do now have a veritable workshop in the basement. A workshop that needs tidying, mind, but a workshop all the same. And two blown light bulbs (including one where the light fitting has gone as well) but in bits of the basement I can ignore for the time being.
Point being, there's a bit of a shift going on at the moment and I like it. Maybe this is what "getting older" is all about, but actually I think it's just finding a new level of "Relax" which is ace. :)
Friday, April 30, 2010
Hello, I'm the Landlord
Arrive "home". Enter property. "Oh, hello Francoise...Oh, you're not Francoise," (you're a boy) "Are you the new person moving in? Great. I'm The Landlord - hello!"
Being back in London is a very odd place to be. It brings back all the "oh, I'll put up with it" sense that I had when I was here full time (in as much a I ever *was* here "Full time") and reminds me of just how lucky I am not to be here. But made me wonder why it is I have a flat here. And how it is I have a flat here. And how flats and property are all a bit weird. And how my life is brilliant (and right now, having checked my email, feeling a little bit all alone). And how things move on and change.
This weekend is a strange one. I've been battling a cold for about a week now and I'm either losing the battle or it's showing itself in full force so it can wrap itself up swiftly. I'm definitely hoping for the latter. In the mean time (while I work out which) I have lots of places to be. Although thankfully less than I had originally planned - although my purse is a little lighter for the privilege. Working out one's train travel in advance is a crazy thing.
But mainly it's a sense of disconnection. Looking forward to seeing Connor when he makes it back from being out and about - if only because otherwise I feel like I'm gate crashing my own flat. Which is weird. Although I do like "what they've done with the place". Still feels like the flat I knew but feels very much like other people are living here. As 'twere.
Being back in London is a very odd place to be. It brings back all the "oh, I'll put up with it" sense that I had when I was here full time (in as much a I ever *was* here "Full time") and reminds me of just how lucky I am not to be here. But made me wonder why it is I have a flat here. And how it is I have a flat here. And how flats and property are all a bit weird. And how my life is brilliant (and right now, having checked my email, feeling a little bit all alone). And how things move on and change.
This weekend is a strange one. I've been battling a cold for about a week now and I'm either losing the battle or it's showing itself in full force so it can wrap itself up swiftly. I'm definitely hoping for the latter. In the mean time (while I work out which) I have lots of places to be. Although thankfully less than I had originally planned - although my purse is a little lighter for the privilege. Working out one's train travel in advance is a crazy thing.
But mainly it's a sense of disconnection. Looking forward to seeing Connor when he makes it back from being out and about - if only because otherwise I feel like I'm gate crashing my own flat. Which is weird. Although I do like "what they've done with the place". Still feels like the flat I knew but feels very much like other people are living here. As 'twere.
Friday, April 9, 2010
*The blog post with no name*
I feel very privileged to be a habitual train traveller. Just now I'm on my way from Hebden Bridge to Morecambe (hurrah!) and I think it's fair to say that I'm entirely of the opinion the stretch between Hebden & Burnley is among the nicest I know. It cuts right through narrow valleys, involving various tunnels, as well as views which are normally only seen when one has wandered into the wilds. Yes, there are roads that cut through gorgeous scenery, but they're roads. They're different. Seeing sheepies and herons (OK, only one heron) and people, and houses and all sorts of greenery is great. As is seeing a selection of saplings in a little soon-to-be-copse, some of which are already fully green and leafy, the others still like bare twigs. A stark reminder of the different growing patterns of different trees, even in exactly the same spot.
A couple about my age were sitting at a table across from mine and somehow that got me to thinking about the fact that although I always imagine my boyfriend / partner / husband having a car (and perhaps meeting me from the station), I don't see me having a car. Don't know why. It started as an environmental habit and it is now very much a lifestyle choice. Yes, there are days when it's a veritable pain but I've got to know the rail system well enough to know how to make it work for me. And it does work. It means I can write this now (rather than being on miles of boring boring motorway). It means I get to gaze at countryside not available to see from a road. It gives me a vantage point higher than in a car – and so a different view on the world. Last week my boss took a train for the first time in a good few years (he used to be a regular train traveller) and remarked that he felt like he'd rediscovered a whole world just beyond his usual sphere. I feel a little like that when people have long discussions about motorways and A-roads. But you know what? I'm quite happy dabbling in roads when travelling with others, or when I get behind the wheel myself, but for the rest of the time, train travel is the way for this little Tigger.
**
It's been another epic week. After much much fun over the Easter weekend with Joinees in Nottingham (I played football! And we won! And I took a header! And gave the other team's captain a veritable bruiser because I flowed with the tackle and he, well, didn't!) and then a gorgeous 24 hours with my cousin and her family, it was back to Hebden, land of my beautiful spacey, airy, yet somehow cosy attic room and into the office. My co-worker in the office had hurt her ankle over the weekend (originally diagnosed as bad bruising: now suspected to be a fracture) which left me covering bits of her job while also doing my own. Definitely kept me on my toes! I had some really exciting pieces of work to follow up along with the more mundane activities, but I somehow managed to stay sane and smiling – albeit on occasion the end of day smiling being more a vacant-eyed hysteria than anything else. I can't believe I've been in this new life of mine for 2 months – it feels both much longer and not that long at all. I only hope my boss's fear I'll burn out remains a fear and nothing more.
But Preston is approaching and with it a level of relaxation and happy anticipation of the sea, my wonderful home and my even more wonderful weekend stretching out ahead of me. Mmmmm.
A couple about my age were sitting at a table across from mine and somehow that got me to thinking about the fact that although I always imagine my boyfriend / partner / husband having a car (and perhaps meeting me from the station), I don't see me having a car. Don't know why. It started as an environmental habit and it is now very much a lifestyle choice. Yes, there are days when it's a veritable pain but I've got to know the rail system well enough to know how to make it work for me. And it does work. It means I can write this now (rather than being on miles of boring boring motorway). It means I get to gaze at countryside not available to see from a road. It gives me a vantage point higher than in a car – and so a different view on the world. Last week my boss took a train for the first time in a good few years (he used to be a regular train traveller) and remarked that he felt like he'd rediscovered a whole world just beyond his usual sphere. I feel a little like that when people have long discussions about motorways and A-roads. But you know what? I'm quite happy dabbling in roads when travelling with others, or when I get behind the wheel myself, but for the rest of the time, train travel is the way for this little Tigger.
**
It's been another epic week. After much much fun over the Easter weekend with Joinees in Nottingham (I played football! And we won! And I took a header! And gave the other team's captain a veritable bruiser because I flowed with the tackle and he, well, didn't!) and then a gorgeous 24 hours with my cousin and her family, it was back to Hebden, land of my beautiful spacey, airy, yet somehow cosy attic room and into the office. My co-worker in the office had hurt her ankle over the weekend (originally diagnosed as bad bruising: now suspected to be a fracture) which left me covering bits of her job while also doing my own. Definitely kept me on my toes! I had some really exciting pieces of work to follow up along with the more mundane activities, but I somehow managed to stay sane and smiling – albeit on occasion the end of day smiling being more a vacant-eyed hysteria than anything else. I can't believe I've been in this new life of mine for 2 months – it feels both much longer and not that long at all. I only hope my boss's fear I'll burn out remains a fear and nothing more.
But Preston is approaching and with it a level of relaxation and happy anticipation of the sea, my wonderful home and my even more wonderful weekend stretching out ahead of me. Mmmmm.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Tigger Gets Curtain Track Without Paying Real Money: Shock!
The truth is true: today, I went into a well-known DIY shop, perused the various curtain track options, settled on the one I wanted (genius, that), took it to the check-out, didn't pay any money and left without being apprehended! Admittedly, payment was taken in the form of accumulated points but I was happy anyway.
And while we're on the subject of being apprehended, I witnessed a security guard veritably fly at a young chap attempted to walk off with some merchandise from a music-type shop earlier today. Initially thought it was a mate of said young chap about to "bounce" him (much as I have been known to do) but the grabbing of said chap, shoving of arms behind back and frog-marching back into the shop somewhat altered my view on that one.
ANYWAYS, more good news in the form of it no longer being Freezey McFreezo in Morecambe, and as such distinctly warmer in my modest abode even without the heating on. Plus the boiler's fixed which is always a bonus (the bill will be less of a bonus, but these things happen). The house is also feeling more and more like my home - I seem to feel I say this every time I come here, but things like patchwork curtains in the snug and, well, just having made more cosmetic changes (my built-in shelves are still standing the test of time - and the weight of the various paper-based items on them) which suit *me*. Hurrah.
So all in all, it's been a good day. I've travelled. I've got to Morecambe. I had a vegan ice cream sundae and I don't have to leave the house (unless I choose to) until Monday morning. Good work, the Tig. :)
And while we're on the subject of being apprehended, I witnessed a security guard veritably fly at a young chap attempted to walk off with some merchandise from a music-type shop earlier today. Initially thought it was a mate of said young chap about to "bounce" him (much as I have been known to do) but the grabbing of said chap, shoving of arms behind back and frog-marching back into the shop somewhat altered my view on that one.
ANYWAYS, more good news in the form of it no longer being Freezey McFreezo in Morecambe, and as such distinctly warmer in my modest abode even without the heating on. Plus the boiler's fixed which is always a bonus (the bill will be less of a bonus, but these things happen). The house is also feeling more and more like my home - I seem to feel I say this every time I come here, but things like patchwork curtains in the snug and, well, just having made more cosmetic changes (my built-in shelves are still standing the test of time - and the weight of the various paper-based items on them) which suit *me*. Hurrah.
So all in all, it's been a good day. I've travelled. I've got to Morecambe. I had a vegan ice cream sundae and I don't have to leave the house (unless I choose to) until Monday morning. Good work, the Tig. :)
Monday, February 22, 2010
Thank You
Thank you to the lady in the red coat who offered me a seat on the overcrowded tube this morning (not because I looked particularly in need: just because she was getting off shortly).
Thank you to the students from this weekend (and particularly those who helped me understand a new level of patience & love and the fabulous power of the mind...or at least that's what I like to think of it as).
Thank you to the amazing trainer and support team for this weekend - I've learnt, I've been supported and I've loved spending time with you.
Thank you to my friends for understanding when I wasn't going to make it to see them - and to those who stepped in and looked after me, fed me, and made me feel welcome.
Thank you to whatever it was that got me to the train station just in time to see my train was cancelled and get me on the preceding train.
Thank you to the sense of the train operator for the flexibility of letting advance purchase tickets go on either the train before or after the cancelled ticket.
And thank you, thank you, thank you for the sanity of free wifi for *everyone* on the train.
I've a lot to be thankful for - so Thank You.
Thank you to the students from this weekend (and particularly those who helped me understand a new level of patience & love and the fabulous power of the mind...or at least that's what I like to think of it as).
Thank you to the amazing trainer and support team for this weekend - I've learnt, I've been supported and I've loved spending time with you.
Thank you to my friends for understanding when I wasn't going to make it to see them - and to those who stepped in and looked after me, fed me, and made me feel welcome.
Thank you to whatever it was that got me to the train station just in time to see my train was cancelled and get me on the preceding train.
Thank you to the sense of the train operator for the flexibility of letting advance purchase tickets go on either the train before or after the cancelled ticket.
And thank you, thank you, thank you for the sanity of free wifi for *everyone* on the train.
I've a lot to be thankful for - so Thank You.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Train Travelling Feb 18th
I find a strange peacefulness in train journeys. Not all of them – sometimes I'm too tired, or not tired enough, to enjoy them. But tonight is a time when I'm in exactly the right place for a train journey: not impatient to get where I'm going, not so alert I want to be incredibly busy, I have a book to read, music to listen to and interest in the passengers around me should I wish to people watch, discretely of course. I'm sharing a table with a blonde haired guy about my age – easily could be a consultant on his way back from 4 days working out of town, I remember those days. He's deep in a book which seems to be book ten of, well, I don't know how many. And either he's not a regular train traveller or something about me he finds curious – perhaps the absolute ease I have with reading other passengers' looks as they hunt a seat, being just ready for the lady collecting rubbish, or just me being me.
In many ways this journey is a bit of a first: travelling down to London for the first training course since I've been working for the company as my “day job”. The wearing of separate hats I feel may be more of a challenge in this particular scenario but time will tell. I'm carrying last minute items, I've done a full day's work and I was cheated of the opportunity for chips by a cafe refit. Oh, and of paying in some cheques because the required cash machine was out of service. Grr. But these things happen. Despite being on this line just a week ago (not even, today being Thursday) something feels very different. Perhaps I'm just not used to this line yet. Who knows.
There is so much to write of. Walking along the canal. Settling in (or otherwise) to a new abode. All the news of my new job. But right now is the time for reading.
In many ways this journey is a bit of a first: travelling down to London for the first training course since I've been working for the company as my “day job”. The wearing of separate hats I feel may be more of a challenge in this particular scenario but time will tell. I'm carrying last minute items, I've done a full day's work and I was cheated of the opportunity for chips by a cafe refit. Oh, and of paying in some cheques because the required cash machine was out of service. Grr. But these things happen. Despite being on this line just a week ago (not even, today being Thursday) something feels very different. Perhaps I'm just not used to this line yet. Who knows.
There is so much to write of. Walking along the canal. Settling in (or otherwise) to a new abode. All the news of my new job. But right now is the time for reading.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
I *heart* Perth Station (Jan 8th)
I like to think of myself as a bit of a train station connosieur - and today I've found a beauty.
Never before have I stopped in Perth (I've passed through at least once, but possibly no more) and with a 7 minute connection between trains I was somewhat anxious. The snow meant I had nothing to worry about regarding connection times (a 20 minute delay to my departing train at the time of writing) but the station - oh, how my heart sang!
At the moment I'm travelling with my trusty Brompton folding bicycle, Billy. I was able to stepp of the train lifting bulky & heavy (but manageable) the Billy-laden-with-full-panier combo, and once settled at the platform I saw...steps to the bridge to my right...no evidence of a lift to the bridge in front of me...and a RAMP from platform to bridge level to my left! Genius! Not sure how long they've had that ramp, but it looks like it's been there as long as the bridge itself - recent additions don't tend to have the gorgeous ironwork of yesteryear.
Familiarising myself with the station and meandering along the bridge I discovered my next exciting fact: Perth has ramps from platform to bridge for EVERY PLATFORM! What I had anticipated would be a struggle up and down steps was a blissing wheeling of my bicycle. Hurrah!
Now, it being the middle of The Big Freeze it's somewhat of the variety BITINGLY COLD up in Perth. Never fear - friendly waiting room is here! It's very simple - benches round the outside, lots of space for standing / push chairs / luggage in the middle, brightly lit and WARM. Comfortably warm to wait in, and that, at the end of the day, is what waiting rooms are for. So yet again Perth has excelled itself as a station. My experience of it may be brief but oh my, it's very much turning into Tigger's Top Station (current title holder: Preston).
Yes, I am a train gekk. And you know what? It makes me feel proud :)
Never before have I stopped in Perth (I've passed through at least once, but possibly no more) and with a 7 minute connection between trains I was somewhat anxious. The snow meant I had nothing to worry about regarding connection times (a 20 minute delay to my departing train at the time of writing) but the station - oh, how my heart sang!
At the moment I'm travelling with my trusty Brompton folding bicycle, Billy. I was able to stepp of the train lifting bulky & heavy (but manageable) the Billy-laden-with-full-panier combo, and once settled at the platform I saw...steps to the bridge to my right...no evidence of a lift to the bridge in front of me...and a RAMP from platform to bridge level to my left! Genius! Not sure how long they've had that ramp, but it looks like it's been there as long as the bridge itself - recent additions don't tend to have the gorgeous ironwork of yesteryear.
Familiarising myself with the station and meandering along the bridge I discovered my next exciting fact: Perth has ramps from platform to bridge for EVERY PLATFORM! What I had anticipated would be a struggle up and down steps was a blissing wheeling of my bicycle. Hurrah!
Now, it being the middle of The Big Freeze it's somewhat of the variety BITINGLY COLD up in Perth. Never fear - friendly waiting room is here! It's very simple - benches round the outside, lots of space for standing / push chairs / luggage in the middle, brightly lit and WARM. Comfortably warm to wait in, and that, at the end of the day, is what waiting rooms are for. So yet again Perth has excelled itself as a station. My experience of it may be brief but oh my, it's very much turning into Tigger's Top Station (current title holder: Preston).
Yes, I am a train gekk. And you know what? It makes me feel proud :)
And it all worked out perfectly... (Jan 7th)
Things I resolved to learn more about a couple of hours ago: where Carstairs is and what exactly a points failure is. Turns out my impression of where Carstairs is was confused by a false assumption: I assumed we were past Edinburgh. We weren’t. Carstairs is south of Edinburgh. And that was why the train hadn’t reversed direction. But I jump ahead...
So, I made it on to the train, settled in for the night in my sleeping bag (turns out that was essential luggage – even now the seated car is pretty cold such that we’ve all been offered free tea and coffee) and actually got some good rest. Result! Most of the journey I was fairly oblivious of what was going on but was sure we’d had the usual “extended stop” in Edinburgh – from my sleeping bag cocoon I’d had a glance of the yellow lights of a station and we were stopped. I fell asleep again shortly. Now, usually at Edinburgh the train reverses direction (just the way the train tracks work – you go into Waverley from London in one direction and come out another to head on up to Aberdeen) and later in the journey (after the “Edinburgh” stop) I realised I was going the same way. Sleep-brain in action I put this down to a “new way of doing things” and thought nothing of it.
Turns out “Edinburgh” was probably Crewe or Preston – given which side the platform was on, I’d hazard a guess it was Crewe. So, again, sleep-brain in action when we’d been stopped for some time and I got up to ask one of the train crew where we were and she said Carstairs I got all confused and tried to work out where between Edinburgh & Aberdeen Carstairs was. I knew I knew the name...I just couldn’t place it between Edinburgh & Aberdeen. Because it’s not between Edinburgh & Aberdeen. Silly Tig-Tigs. It was when we pulled into the next big station and a big sign right outside my window proclaimed “Edinburgh Waverley” that I realised my mistake. Assumptions: the downfall of so many things. But at least I now know (roughly) where Carstairs is.
The points failure was at Carstairs (hence the 45-60 minute stoppage there) but once we got moving again I noticed a series of flashes of light illuminating the snow-filled fields next to the train. It was almost like lightning, but much more localised and a greenish-tinged light. Turns out it was being caused by large sparks (which at one point turned into a veritable cascade of orange sparks) from the contact between the train and the overhead wires. A little disconcerting, but we were moving which was a good start!
Next issue: we got into Waverley about 7am – which put us about 3 hours behind schedule. And given I had my first viewing of the flat at 9am, this was going to cause me problems. Even more so because it was a viewing with someone who only had a Hungarian mobile and I wasn’t convinced I was going to be able to make contact. So, in a fit of inspiration I decided to bite the bullet and pay for some internet while at Waverley (I’ve done this before). Turned the laptop on. Got the “available networks” up. And got logged on to the East Coast mainline free wireless. Hurrah! While all that was going on in the background I’d drafted a note to my 9am prospective tenant and searched by his name to find his email address – turns out since the last time I’d checked my emails he’d been in touch to inform me he already had accommodation...and was cancelling the appointment. So that *definitely* worked out perfectly!
The train is now on its merry way again – and the light is just coming into the sky so I’ll have the pleasure of watching the Scottish countryside go by on my way up to Aberdeen. The fact that this bit of railway line is one of my faves for gazing at the countryside is, of course, another bonus. It’s going to be a good day.
So, I made it on to the train, settled in for the night in my sleeping bag (turns out that was essential luggage – even now the seated car is pretty cold such that we’ve all been offered free tea and coffee) and actually got some good rest. Result! Most of the journey I was fairly oblivious of what was going on but was sure we’d had the usual “extended stop” in Edinburgh – from my sleeping bag cocoon I’d had a glance of the yellow lights of a station and we were stopped. I fell asleep again shortly. Now, usually at Edinburgh the train reverses direction (just the way the train tracks work – you go into Waverley from London in one direction and come out another to head on up to Aberdeen) and later in the journey (after the “Edinburgh” stop) I realised I was going the same way. Sleep-brain in action I put this down to a “new way of doing things” and thought nothing of it.
Turns out “Edinburgh” was probably Crewe or Preston – given which side the platform was on, I’d hazard a guess it was Crewe. So, again, sleep-brain in action when we’d been stopped for some time and I got up to ask one of the train crew where we were and she said Carstairs I got all confused and tried to work out where between Edinburgh & Aberdeen Carstairs was. I knew I knew the name...I just couldn’t place it between Edinburgh & Aberdeen. Because it’s not between Edinburgh & Aberdeen. Silly Tig-Tigs. It was when we pulled into the next big station and a big sign right outside my window proclaimed “Edinburgh Waverley” that I realised my mistake. Assumptions: the downfall of so many things. But at least I now know (roughly) where Carstairs is.
The points failure was at Carstairs (hence the 45-60 minute stoppage there) but once we got moving again I noticed a series of flashes of light illuminating the snow-filled fields next to the train. It was almost like lightning, but much more localised and a greenish-tinged light. Turns out it was being caused by large sparks (which at one point turned into a veritable cascade of orange sparks) from the contact between the train and the overhead wires. A little disconcerting, but we were moving which was a good start!
Next issue: we got into Waverley about 7am – which put us about 3 hours behind schedule. And given I had my first viewing of the flat at 9am, this was going to cause me problems. Even more so because it was a viewing with someone who only had a Hungarian mobile and I wasn’t convinced I was going to be able to make contact. So, in a fit of inspiration I decided to bite the bullet and pay for some internet while at Waverley (I’ve done this before). Turned the laptop on. Got the “available networks” up. And got logged on to the East Coast mainline free wireless. Hurrah! While all that was going on in the background I’d drafted a note to my 9am prospective tenant and searched by his name to find his email address – turns out since the last time I’d checked my emails he’d been in touch to inform me he already had accommodation...and was cancelling the appointment. So that *definitely* worked out perfectly!
The train is now on its merry way again – and the light is just coming into the sky so I’ll have the pleasure of watching the Scottish countryside go by on my way up to Aberdeen. The fact that this bit of railway line is one of my faves for gazing at the countryside is, of course, another bonus. It’s going to be a good day.
I Feel Sorry for the Pedestrians (Jan 6th)
It's been an interesting evening. Having spent much of my spare brain capacity in the past 24 hours on worrying about whether I would have a train to take me up to Scotland at all, I ended up with oodles of time to spare at Euston courtesy of Snow Panic.
Snow Panic had caused my disturbed rest the evening before.
Snow Panic cancelled a meeting and gave me a day of listening to my own voice.
And Snow Panic emptied the offices I'm working in by 5.30pm at which point the offices were locked. Hence a lot of spare time at Euston.
I had also been concerned, having watched the snow fall all day, that perhaps my journey acrsoss London may be slower than usual. That was Snow Panic talking. Turns out the roads were pleasantly quiet, mainly free of slush let alone ice (after the London gritters had been out full throttle over the past few days) and it was actually a fairly pleasant ride. The one thing that did strike me was the plight of the pedestrians. Although the roads were clear, the pavements looked to be an icy skateland of compacted snow. I found myself reflecting on the different plights of differentr travellers and just had a sense that, in London at least, pedestrians seeme to come off worst. All hail the car lobby. Or something.
My time at Euston also proved mentally stimulating, A lovely woman held a door open for me and Billy (my Brompton - heavily laden with a full panier) - only to discoer we were going a different way. And then I settled myself in the "Food Court" to pass the time.
After reorganising my bags (the ongoing task of a multi-vehicle-type-traveller) and sending reminders of appointments to prospective tenants, I settled into some reading. People came and went around me, moving tabls, catching trains, drinking beverages (mainly hot ones). The most surprising was recognising a face among many - a man I'd met while doing massage for homeless people during Crisis at Christmas. He didn't approach me - I don't know if he saw me & recognised me and decided not to approach, or if he simply didn't see or recognise me. But I did spend a good chunk of time wondering whether to approach him myself. My indecision cost me the option and he walked off. I feel at peace with that outcome - and a good job too given that's what happened.
And so, here I am, awaiting the train's departure on it's merry journey to Scotland. Feeling quite zen, if truth be told (and mildly amused that a friend called while I was sitting in the food court for my train expertise! Hee hee!)
Snow Panic had caused my disturbed rest the evening before.
Snow Panic cancelled a meeting and gave me a day of listening to my own voice.
And Snow Panic emptied the offices I'm working in by 5.30pm at which point the offices were locked. Hence a lot of spare time at Euston.
I had also been concerned, having watched the snow fall all day, that perhaps my journey acrsoss London may be slower than usual. That was Snow Panic talking. Turns out the roads were pleasantly quiet, mainly free of slush let alone ice (after the London gritters had been out full throttle over the past few days) and it was actually a fairly pleasant ride. The one thing that did strike me was the plight of the pedestrians. Although the roads were clear, the pavements looked to be an icy skateland of compacted snow. I found myself reflecting on the different plights of differentr travellers and just had a sense that, in London at least, pedestrians seeme to come off worst. All hail the car lobby. Or something.
My time at Euston also proved mentally stimulating, A lovely woman held a door open for me and Billy (my Brompton - heavily laden with a full panier) - only to discoer we were going a different way. And then I settled myself in the "Food Court" to pass the time.
After reorganising my bags (the ongoing task of a multi-vehicle-type-traveller) and sending reminders of appointments to prospective tenants, I settled into some reading. People came and went around me, moving tabls, catching trains, drinking beverages (mainly hot ones). The most surprising was recognising a face among many - a man I'd met while doing massage for homeless people during Crisis at Christmas. He didn't approach me - I don't know if he saw me & recognised me and decided not to approach, or if he simply didn't see or recognise me. But I did spend a good chunk of time wondering whether to approach him myself. My indecision cost me the option and he walked off. I feel at peace with that outcome - and a good job too given that's what happened.
And so, here I am, awaiting the train's departure on it's merry journey to Scotland. Feeling quite zen, if truth be told (and mildly amused that a friend called while I was sitting in the food court for my train expertise! Hee hee!)
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