A weekend without plans used to be a cause for apprehension - have I forgotten something I'm supposed to be doing? What if I don't get "enough" done? What will I do with myself?
How I thought any of those worries had any grounding is beyond me. But the reality is that I am in the process of mastering the art of "empty weekends". Yesterday was a case in point - no plans whatsoever, so a slow start, with a bit of reading, following my train of thought in terms of priorities for the day and getting to potter around a building which I normally only spend time in "getting stuff done" - not simply enjoying it for the fabulous (and growing) place that it is. Continuing to mull all my growing possibilities (cut and come again crops on my window ledges - mwahahahaha) and generally having a bit of a breather after a very busy week. Today will be much the same. Both yesterday and today I'll do some "work" (paperwork, banking, correspondence and the like) but that's fine - because it needs doing, I enjoy it and the sense of satisfaction is always a bonus. But if I fancied just going for a walk or some other entertainment, that would be fine too. Except *this* weekend is all about being here. In Morecambe. By the seaside.
Which reminds me, I don't like to be by the seaside - I love it! That classic ditty is all well and good, but walking the Prom, especially in the Direction Less Trodden, is utterly marvellous. The sea air in my lungs. The vista stretching out. The space above and across. The hints of times gone by. All brilliant. That I've managed to bring my life together into this one wonderful place remains something I am eternally grateful for. Huzzah.
Books and their role in this increasingly electronic age is another thing that has been preying on my mind recently. In a spare few hours I ended up in a discount book shop - and picked up some beautiful, full colour hard backed books for about 50p a piece. Incredible! And I have a stack of books waiting for me on my bedside table. I love reading real books - I have yet to get into ebooks (although I now have the facility to) and wonder if I ever will. But electronic or paper, the effort that goes into each publication is immense - the authors, editors, designers, publishers, everyone. And yet you can pick up new copies for 50p. Mind boggling. Supply, demand, economics - the phenomenon could be explained away but it does simply make my head spin. More excitingly on the real-books front, I have the prospect of having some full height shelves installed soon and I'm really enjoying the prospect of plotting my themed shelves. Lucky, lucky Tigger!
And now - time to continue with my laid back but progressing weekend. The world beckons!
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Technology & Nature
This was actually written before my two previous entries, while sitting on the Tyntesfield Estate. However, until now it had been confined to my notebook...
Technology is amazing - it truly is. The discoveries and developments that have been made through increasing advances in human technology are truly awe-inspiring, even the ones which are massively destructive. The knowledge and collaboration (be it collaboration in the present or building on discoveries of those who came before) of the ever expanding population of the planet is a collective feat almost incomprehensible.
And yet.
My world and that of those immediately around me is increasingly dominated by virtual reality. Send an email - not a letter. Google it on your Smartphone instead of discussing it with those around you. Do some Wii fit instead of getting out and about, or simply having a life which, by default, includes physical exercise on a day to day basis. The list goes on.
I see a place for these advances and technologies but my concern is that they are swamping the public consciousness and squashing out the ways of doing and being that have been around for aeons.
Today I used technology (car and SatNav, let alone the technology that went into the clothes I'm wearing, the food I ate and the house I stayed in last night) to get to Tyntesfield, a National Trust property in North Somerset. Arriving early I had a quick chat to an administrator who advised "there's nothing really to do yet - except for enjoy the air". Which was exactly what I'd come to do.
I meandered off and have found myself sitting on a log. The log is part of a circle around a fire pit and is gloriously calm. I can hear the drone of traffic in the background (being only 15 min drive from Bristol) but I can also hear birdsong and the gentle movement of the woods. The occasional rustle as a bird lands or flies off. And what I find stunning is that I may be the only person to sit here today. Perhaps even all week. I understand there is plenty of "doing" to be done (harken the sound of light rainfall) and yet - is there really no space for getting out, pausing, and being amazed by the rest of nature "just getting on"?
This week my aim was to get to lots of places like Tyntesfield and enjoy the space. The freedom to wander and explore. To stop and breathe. To be inspired. (Hello Squirrel). I feel utterly ignorant of the scope and brilliance of the ecosystems of the UK, let alone the rest of the world, and from this conscious ignorance I can build and grow my knowledge - while getting to enjoy stunning grounds and the changing sky.
I feel incredibly lucky to find myself living by the sea and with time to get out into the countryside. And by immersing myself, perhaps that's one more step towards evening up the balance of Technology versus Nature.
Technology is amazing - it truly is. The discoveries and developments that have been made through increasing advances in human technology are truly awe-inspiring, even the ones which are massively destructive. The knowledge and collaboration (be it collaboration in the present or building on discoveries of those who came before) of the ever expanding population of the planet is a collective feat almost incomprehensible.
And yet.
My world and that of those immediately around me is increasingly dominated by virtual reality. Send an email - not a letter. Google it on your Smartphone instead of discussing it with those around you. Do some Wii fit instead of getting out and about, or simply having a life which, by default, includes physical exercise on a day to day basis. The list goes on.
I see a place for these advances and technologies but my concern is that they are swamping the public consciousness and squashing out the ways of doing and being that have been around for aeons.
Today I used technology (car and SatNav, let alone the technology that went into the clothes I'm wearing, the food I ate and the house I stayed in last night) to get to Tyntesfield, a National Trust property in North Somerset. Arriving early I had a quick chat to an administrator who advised "there's nothing really to do yet - except for enjoy the air". Which was exactly what I'd come to do.
I meandered off and have found myself sitting on a log. The log is part of a circle around a fire pit and is gloriously calm. I can hear the drone of traffic in the background (being only 15 min drive from Bristol) but I can also hear birdsong and the gentle movement of the woods. The occasional rustle as a bird lands or flies off. And what I find stunning is that I may be the only person to sit here today. Perhaps even all week. I understand there is plenty of "doing" to be done (harken the sound of light rainfall) and yet - is there really no space for getting out, pausing, and being amazed by the rest of nature "just getting on"?
This week my aim was to get to lots of places like Tyntesfield and enjoy the space. The freedom to wander and explore. To stop and breathe. To be inspired. (Hello Squirrel). I feel utterly ignorant of the scope and brilliance of the ecosystems of the UK, let alone the rest of the world, and from this conscious ignorance I can build and grow my knowledge - while getting to enjoy stunning grounds and the changing sky.
I feel incredibly lucky to find myself living by the sea and with time to get out into the countryside. And by immersing myself, perhaps that's one more step towards evening up the balance of Technology versus Nature.
From the Sublime to the Ridiculous - and back again
The title of this post had already been decided upon. And now is even more fitting because I have been presented with a single-portion-jam-size-glass-jar-of-tomato-ketchup. Craziness! Apt for the setting, but crazy.
Yesterday's indulgence: time at a spa hotel pool, steam and sauna. Today's: some meandering around in my car without entirely knowing where I was going, ending up in a posh hotel overlooking the sea, the sunset and the sky. I just fancied somewhere to unwind in calm surroundings (check), on a big sofa (check), without too many other people (check). It seems I may get turfed out in the not entirely distant future for a pre-booked event they have on (furniture is being moved in preparation for a band and dance floor) but for the mean time I can just sit and enjoy myself.
It seems I have a threshold for amusing myself, by myself, and it's certainly less than a week. Earlier today I had the chance for a proper explore at the Lost Gardens of Heligan and, well, wow. The amount of work that's gone into it is truly awe inspiring - both the work of the original gardens in creating it in the first place, and the work of the team who have been restoring and continuing to develop it since it's rediscovery back in the 90s. I had a wander around the Jungle area today and there's a boardwork round the whole area - which is both fun and a LOT of boardwalk! Counterposed with this morning's reading (a classic text on permaculture) today has been a very gardeny/greenery filled day. The escape to somewhere to simply take in the day and round it off was beginning to feel like a lost cause but has been delightfully fulfilled by The Carlyon Hotel. And, even better - with the price of a pot of tea being £3.50, having a hot water and a portion of chips (at a mere £3) was a much more sensible option. Huzzah.
Overall, today's thought for the day has been that of what, to me, counts as a holiday. And that although I really do enjoy Doing, this week in particular has seen a lot of space to think - or not think, as the case may be. What the end result of said time out will be I'll only know when I'm back in the thick of things next week but it's a rather pleasant place to be, either way.
Yesterday's indulgence: time at a spa hotel pool, steam and sauna. Today's: some meandering around in my car without entirely knowing where I was going, ending up in a posh hotel overlooking the sea, the sunset and the sky. I just fancied somewhere to unwind in calm surroundings (check), on a big sofa (check), without too many other people (check). It seems I may get turfed out in the not entirely distant future for a pre-booked event they have on (furniture is being moved in preparation for a band and dance floor) but for the mean time I can just sit and enjoy myself.
It seems I have a threshold for amusing myself, by myself, and it's certainly less than a week. Earlier today I had the chance for a proper explore at the Lost Gardens of Heligan and, well, wow. The amount of work that's gone into it is truly awe inspiring - both the work of the original gardens in creating it in the first place, and the work of the team who have been restoring and continuing to develop it since it's rediscovery back in the 90s. I had a wander around the Jungle area today and there's a boardwork round the whole area - which is both fun and a LOT of boardwalk! Counterposed with this morning's reading (a classic text on permaculture) today has been a very gardeny/greenery filled day. The escape to somewhere to simply take in the day and round it off was beginning to feel like a lost cause but has been delightfully fulfilled by The Carlyon Hotel. And, even better - with the price of a pot of tea being £3.50, having a hot water and a portion of chips (at a mere £3) was a much more sensible option. Huzzah.
Overall, today's thought for the day has been that of what, to me, counts as a holiday. And that although I really do enjoy Doing, this week in particular has seen a lot of space to think - or not think, as the case may be. What the end result of said time out will be I'll only know when I'm back in the thick of things next week but it's a rather pleasant place to be, either way.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Today Did Not Go According To Plan
They say it's all in the preparation. I say it's all in the DETAIL of the preparation. The devil, that is. My galavant around the South West seemed to be continuing well this morning - the drive to the next National Trust property on my list (Buckland Abbey) was taking longer than I'd imagined in my head and I'd decided to over-rule the SatNav because I fancied a slightly different route. Nothing wrong with that. Except that's when the rot set in...
My SatNav is usually a creature of much delight. It gets me to where I want to go and means that despite the fact I STILL haven't remembered to put my real-made-of-genuine-paper-atlas in the car, I can get to where I need to be. Even if where I need to be has only just become the destination of choice. However - every now and then it has an off-moment and lands me somewhere just, well, wrong. Today it decided Buckland Abbey was up a dead-end single-track road at which point I defaulted to following the road signs...which then somewhat petered out. I picked up the scent again (and was sent in a big loop which was entirely unnecessary...hard to describe without a gazillion words, but not SatNav at it's most sensible) only to arrive at said Abbey to discover it was CLOSED.
Now, I've been diligently checking The Book (2012's catalogue of all National Trust sites) and was convinced the Abbey was due to be open today. On careful checking, however, one line gives opening times until Dec 2nd...and the next line down is "from Dec 7th..." - and today is December 5th. And today it was closed. The sun was shining and I was feeling a bit miffed but after a brief wander around the key bit of the grounds (during which period I was sure I was going to be "found out" and briskly escorted from the premises) and a conversation with my Dad (who DID have real genuine maps in front of him) I ended up heading on down towards St Austell.
And this is where the fun really began. I've always rather been of the opinion that whichever direction you go, a SatNav will always, eventually, recalculate your journey so you don't have to turn around. It's an interesting idea, but completely wrong. Especially when the road you've decided so firmly is the "right way to St Austell" turns out to end with a train station and a pedestrian ferry. But back on the (not very straight but especially narrow at times) track to St Austell I found myself wending along quite merrily. Still unsure of where to head to, I ended up enjoying some glorious sunshine on Porthpaen beach - delightfully I was able to settle on some rocks at the foot of the cliff in full sun just as the afternoon was ending. Even more delightfully I was already back at my car when the heavens opened - getting drenched was DEFINITELY not part of the plan.
At which point the only sensible option was an indulgent couple of hours at a local country hotel which had a spa attached. No treatments for me, but steaming, saunaing and some meandering about in the pool, along with reading National Geographic poolside in between times was spot on before heading off to my bed for the night (a little B&B just the other side of the Lost Gardens of Heligan - or, in case my DOD is reading and getting confused: the Pelican Gardens).
So, not the plan, but a good day all the same.
My SatNav is usually a creature of much delight. It gets me to where I want to go and means that despite the fact I STILL haven't remembered to put my real-made-of-genuine-paper-atlas in the car, I can get to where I need to be. Even if where I need to be has only just become the destination of choice. However - every now and then it has an off-moment and lands me somewhere just, well, wrong. Today it decided Buckland Abbey was up a dead-end single-track road at which point I defaulted to following the road signs...which then somewhat petered out. I picked up the scent again (and was sent in a big loop which was entirely unnecessary...hard to describe without a gazillion words, but not SatNav at it's most sensible) only to arrive at said Abbey to discover it was CLOSED.
Now, I've been diligently checking The Book (2012's catalogue of all National Trust sites) and was convinced the Abbey was due to be open today. On careful checking, however, one line gives opening times until Dec 2nd...and the next line down is "from Dec 7th..." - and today is December 5th. And today it was closed. The sun was shining and I was feeling a bit miffed but after a brief wander around the key bit of the grounds (during which period I was sure I was going to be "found out" and briskly escorted from the premises) and a conversation with my Dad (who DID have real genuine maps in front of him) I ended up heading on down towards St Austell.
And this is where the fun really began. I've always rather been of the opinion that whichever direction you go, a SatNav will always, eventually, recalculate your journey so you don't have to turn around. It's an interesting idea, but completely wrong. Especially when the road you've decided so firmly is the "right way to St Austell" turns out to end with a train station and a pedestrian ferry. But back on the (not very straight but especially narrow at times) track to St Austell I found myself wending along quite merrily. Still unsure of where to head to, I ended up enjoying some glorious sunshine on Porthpaen beach - delightfully I was able to settle on some rocks at the foot of the cliff in full sun just as the afternoon was ending. Even more delightfully I was already back at my car when the heavens opened - getting drenched was DEFINITELY not part of the plan.
At which point the only sensible option was an indulgent couple of hours at a local country hotel which had a spa attached. No treatments for me, but steaming, saunaing and some meandering about in the pool, along with reading National Geographic poolside in between times was spot on before heading off to my bed for the night (a little B&B just the other side of the Lost Gardens of Heligan - or, in case my DOD is reading and getting confused: the Pelican Gardens).
So, not the plan, but a good day all the same.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
The Sea
It's been just over 5 months since I've been living by the sea full time. And it's been great. I walk to work along the seafront. I get blown hither and thither as I attempt to get home in a full blown gale (OK, maybe it's not a gale - but it's a pretty strong wind). I get soaked through on days when the rain decides to set in with a vengeance. But overall, I've been living by the sea!
As I was driving down on Friday evening starting about 10 days away I realised my overwhelming sense was "I'm driving away from the sea!" The thought amused me but I didn't put too much weight on it. And yet today I gave in and, after 3 days away, I have ended up looking out over a beach - this time in Weston-Super-Mare. I've always been fond of the sea but never realised it could take quite such a hold. Of course, I can survive without it...but given the choice I'd really rather be beside it. And, thankfully, the UK has a whole host of beach-side resorts to choose from, many of which are now rather down at heel and as such, perfect for a day tripper like me to take the air without hordes of other people.
But don't get me wrong - if I could encourage more people to take in the delights of a seaside break, I would! Whether it's coming to visit me in Morecambe or simply choosing a weekend by the sea in the UK rather than jumping on a flight to the continent, I think the great British seaside resort is under-rated and rather neglected. Right now I'm watching the last of the light fade from the sky as I look across the Bristol Channel. Clouds mask much of the land on the south coast of Wales but some twinkling lights (of Cardiff?) shine through and with the tide out the last of the light is reflecting in beautiful patterns on the remaining water on the exposed sand on the beach. Lights are coming on in the windows on Knightstone and the hum of the pub I'm in provides a sound backdrop. Who wouldn't want to be here?
And so my rather romantic and very deep-seated attachment to the sea continues. And this having spent 5 enjoyable hours at a gorgeous country estate (Tyntesfield House). You can take the girl from the sea, but you can't take the sea from the girl.
As I was driving down on Friday evening starting about 10 days away I realised my overwhelming sense was "I'm driving away from the sea!" The thought amused me but I didn't put too much weight on it. And yet today I gave in and, after 3 days away, I have ended up looking out over a beach - this time in Weston-Super-Mare. I've always been fond of the sea but never realised it could take quite such a hold. Of course, I can survive without it...but given the choice I'd really rather be beside it. And, thankfully, the UK has a whole host of beach-side resorts to choose from, many of which are now rather down at heel and as such, perfect for a day tripper like me to take the air without hordes of other people.
But don't get me wrong - if I could encourage more people to take in the delights of a seaside break, I would! Whether it's coming to visit me in Morecambe or simply choosing a weekend by the sea in the UK rather than jumping on a flight to the continent, I think the great British seaside resort is under-rated and rather neglected. Right now I'm watching the last of the light fade from the sky as I look across the Bristol Channel. Clouds mask much of the land on the south coast of Wales but some twinkling lights (of Cardiff?) shine through and with the tide out the last of the light is reflecting in beautiful patterns on the remaining water on the exposed sand on the beach. Lights are coming on in the windows on Knightstone and the hum of the pub I'm in provides a sound backdrop. Who wouldn't want to be here?
And so my rather romantic and very deep-seated attachment to the sea continues. And this having spent 5 enjoyable hours at a gorgeous country estate (Tyntesfield House). You can take the girl from the sea, but you can't take the sea from the girl.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Adventuring
I never thought I'd look forward to taking a break at a motorway services. Of course, often I have looked forward to arriving at motorway services and dashing into the loos, but today I've actually decided to pause, blog, catch up, ponder and otherwise have a break. A novel experience but one that may yet repeat itself. Even the experience of the other people who are also breaking their journeys (for whatever reason) is friendly and almost enchanting. Services are strange environments, very specific in their existing and very functional in their purpose but this evening I'm finding the whole atmosphere pleasant in a way I never have done before. Curiouser and curiouser.
It's hard to believe that it's been just 3 days but my, what a three days they have been. Chronologically or memorologically, it's been utterly utterly fantastic. Part of the difficulty in understanding the "just 3 days" bit is that I completely mashed my time perception on Friday morning, further mashed it on Friday night / Saturday morning, was baffled by time on Saturday and today and have given up caring that I haven't a clue. I have various devices which tell me what time the rest of reality thinks it is as and when required and in the mean time I can potter on in my own little world.
The weekend's adventures (and they were adventures, oh yes they were) were all precipitated by my friend Pippa getting married. I knew her at Cambridge and our paths then crossed again while we both found ourselves rather unexpectedly in Accenture since when we've managed to keep in touch, quite often through the marvellous mode of Real Letter. The theme of the weekend was "what happened to the last three years?" quite often (and there's a simple answer to that but that's another story) and it was hard to believe that she's been with her now husband for 4 years (somehow it still feels like the very recent past that I was getting the low down on The New Boy) but their wedding celebration was utterly marvellous - and their vows moving, touching and very beautiful. The ceremony itself having happened earlier in the day, the reception was held at Bodiam Castle and involved an "Exciting Birds" display (I'd like to say birds of prey, but they weren't all birds of prey, one being an owl and another being a vulcher), a ceilidh, a fabulous marquee (bedecked in mediaeval type decorations which, in a certain light, sometimes morphed into bedouin tent type decorations, creating a rather marvellous blend), a pie and cheese phase (what a brilliant idea! Not just cheese, but hot pies as the evening draws in), tromping around the castle and playing with real armoury and dozens and dozens of MARVELLOUS costumes. The invite had specified mediaeval costumes were optional but about 85% of the guests had opted for the option and there were so many great outfits. A brilliant ice breaker, it also meant I got to handle a couple of real swords AND wear a real chain-mail helmet! Rather sweetly the owner of the chain-mail let me try it on but wanted to rescue it from me again rather swiftly as he was concern the oil on it (to keep it in perfect nick) would get on to my outfit. What a hero.
A wonderful group of people, being held at the castle just added even more awesomeness to the events. In particular throughout the evening the mist got thicker and thicker around the castle creating a stunningly picturesque and beautifully ethereal atmosphere. It was a truly stunning venue and I'm so pleased to have been able to be there and celebrate the start of Mr and Mrs Wainwright's married life. Brilliant brilliant brilliant. (Even more brilliant: the joy of facebook means that although I took rather few photos myself, every time Pippa gets tagged in a photo by friends who WERE taking photos I get to see them - and they're just starting to come through! Ace)
As part of the preparation for attending the wedding I discovered (having not really thought about it) how close the venue was to...the seaside! Being an utter seaside fanatic (I think I always have been but possibly in more of a "closet" way - it's certainly loud and proud these days) I found myself a B&B on the seafront in Hastings and got booked in. A hiccup with the postcode meant some brief shenanigans finding it but when I arrived not only did they have some keys ready for me (I'd let them know I would be disappearing before their usual check in time for a wedding but they'd agreed to let me pick up keys) but my room was ready too! The previous 12 hours had been rather exceptional - more on that later - but having my room was an absolute blessing as it meant I could humanise myself with a shower and freshen up. I'd also hoped to blow the cobwebs away on the front - but it turns out the cobweb blowing ability of Hastings has *nothing* on Morecambe... ;) My room was very snug but had everything I needed...AND a sea view and a balcony! Really landed on my feet with that one and should I ever end up that end of the world again I could quite enjoy staying there once more. The best was yet to come, however, with my B&B choosing skills...
I had never been quite sure how today would pan out (post-wedding breakfast? Dashing off on more adventures? Sleeping and sleeping and sleeping and sleeping?) but as it turns out I found myself awake and ready to enjoy the GLORIOUS sunshine (good work, weather Gods - two gorgeously sunny Sundays in a row!) with plenty of time. An old friend of mine who lives in Brighton had also popped into my mind and I thought I'd find out if he fancied a visit. Turns out he was in Hastings with his fiancee visiting her Mum with their 8 month old in tow! Fantastic! Very unexpected but very brilliant, I got to meet said fiancee, Mum and 8 month old (who's called Arthur and is officially awesome) and hang out with Tom before they headed back to Brighton. A wonderful addition to an already brilliant weekend.
Speaking of small people on Friday I spent the day at my parents' in Oxfordshire and as well as digging the vegetable patch and picking apples (I could claim daughterly duty but actually I was clamouring for jobs I could do in the garden - gardening is ace) I spent a lovely few hours with my nephew and two of my nieces who'd been spending a few days with my parents. Children are inspirational - and definitely keep you on your toes! I am feeling rather more confident in my auntie-ly duties these days and it was lovely to see them - as well as my parents! Timing also worked out perfectly with us all heading off for our respective evenings about 4pm (my parents to return the trio to my sister and her husband) and me to jump on an Oxford Tube to London.
I was rather pleased with my parking spot and was all ready to jump straight on to a bus but I seemed to have hit Oxford at peak time for people getting the Oxford Tube so two went past absolutely ram-jam-full before I managed to get on one. A friend was having a birthday celebration in London and the fact I was "in the area" made it a complete no-brainer. Even better, Sci Fi London were having their Autumnal festival in the same end of town and, without really planning it more than about an hour beforehand, I decided to pop in there and say hello too. Sad not to have magicked all my SFL favourites to be there at the same time, but I saw a great number of old favourites and some fresh new faces to boot while reminiscing about old times. Good fun.
Another friend (who I lived with a long while ago, introduce to SFL and now looks after all the volunteers) was also heading to the birthday drinks so we headed off that way and I managed to raise plenty of "Tigger! I didn't expect to see you here!" which was great. Given the festival detour, we only arrived about 10pm and it became clear that the prospect of yoiking back to Oxford and then out to the sticks for a few hours' sleep wasn't particularly appealling...and so I just stayed out with the gang until about 4.30am until I made tracks to pick up the car and drive down to Hastings. Frustratingly (although in hindsight not incredibly so as parking in Hastings is a nightmare!) I missed one of the hourly buses by about 30 seconds but amused myself with a samosa, being confused by time and reading one of the free London newspapers until the next bus arrived. The magic of sleep deprivation won me the perception of having had a good few hours of sleep (got on the bus in the dark, got off in the light...so CLEARLY I'd slept for a good few hours - except it was actually about 70 or 80 minutes) and my body co-operated (I have no idea how) in sustaining me through until providing a taxi service for 3 folk getting the last train back to London from the wedding and seeing me head back to Hastings. That drive back from the castle was probably the hairiest bit of the weekend - the beautiful mist that had descended on the castle had also descended on the local roads and wending my way through unfamiliar country roads in patching heavy mist / fog was rather more exciting than I'd been expecting but just added to the mystery and brilliance. Passengers deposited I got back to the B&B for an excellent night's sleep before awaking to beautiful sunshine this morning. Stunning, stunning, stunning.
So there you have it, an adventure-tastic weekend. Brilliant, wonderous and exciting, and the intensity of brilliance all enabled by the Golden Chariot. Happy Tigger.
AND - how could I forget - an evening with my Space Twin to start it all off! Chats, great food and yet more revelations of the brilliance of the medicine of Touch this was a weekend and a half.
It's hard to believe that it's been just 3 days but my, what a three days they have been. Chronologically or memorologically, it's been utterly utterly fantastic. Part of the difficulty in understanding the "just 3 days" bit is that I completely mashed my time perception on Friday morning, further mashed it on Friday night / Saturday morning, was baffled by time on Saturday and today and have given up caring that I haven't a clue. I have various devices which tell me what time the rest of reality thinks it is as and when required and in the mean time I can potter on in my own little world.
The weekend's adventures (and they were adventures, oh yes they were) were all precipitated by my friend Pippa getting married. I knew her at Cambridge and our paths then crossed again while we both found ourselves rather unexpectedly in Accenture since when we've managed to keep in touch, quite often through the marvellous mode of Real Letter. The theme of the weekend was "what happened to the last three years?" quite often (and there's a simple answer to that but that's another story) and it was hard to believe that she's been with her now husband for 4 years (somehow it still feels like the very recent past that I was getting the low down on The New Boy) but their wedding celebration was utterly marvellous - and their vows moving, touching and very beautiful. The ceremony itself having happened earlier in the day, the reception was held at Bodiam Castle and involved an "Exciting Birds" display (I'd like to say birds of prey, but they weren't all birds of prey, one being an owl and another being a vulcher), a ceilidh, a fabulous marquee (bedecked in mediaeval type decorations which, in a certain light, sometimes morphed into bedouin tent type decorations, creating a rather marvellous blend), a pie and cheese phase (what a brilliant idea! Not just cheese, but hot pies as the evening draws in), tromping around the castle and playing with real armoury and dozens and dozens of MARVELLOUS costumes. The invite had specified mediaeval costumes were optional but about 85% of the guests had opted for the option and there were so many great outfits. A brilliant ice breaker, it also meant I got to handle a couple of real swords AND wear a real chain-mail helmet! Rather sweetly the owner of the chain-mail let me try it on but wanted to rescue it from me again rather swiftly as he was concern the oil on it (to keep it in perfect nick) would get on to my outfit. What a hero.
A wonderful group of people, being held at the castle just added even more awesomeness to the events. In particular throughout the evening the mist got thicker and thicker around the castle creating a stunningly picturesque and beautifully ethereal atmosphere. It was a truly stunning venue and I'm so pleased to have been able to be there and celebrate the start of Mr and Mrs Wainwright's married life. Brilliant brilliant brilliant. (Even more brilliant: the joy of facebook means that although I took rather few photos myself, every time Pippa gets tagged in a photo by friends who WERE taking photos I get to see them - and they're just starting to come through! Ace)
As part of the preparation for attending the wedding I discovered (having not really thought about it) how close the venue was to...the seaside! Being an utter seaside fanatic (I think I always have been but possibly in more of a "closet" way - it's certainly loud and proud these days) I found myself a B&B on the seafront in Hastings and got booked in. A hiccup with the postcode meant some brief shenanigans finding it but when I arrived not only did they have some keys ready for me (I'd let them know I would be disappearing before their usual check in time for a wedding but they'd agreed to let me pick up keys) but my room was ready too! The previous 12 hours had been rather exceptional - more on that later - but having my room was an absolute blessing as it meant I could humanise myself with a shower and freshen up. I'd also hoped to blow the cobwebs away on the front - but it turns out the cobweb blowing ability of Hastings has *nothing* on Morecambe... ;) My room was very snug but had everything I needed...AND a sea view and a balcony! Really landed on my feet with that one and should I ever end up that end of the world again I could quite enjoy staying there once more. The best was yet to come, however, with my B&B choosing skills...
I had never been quite sure how today would pan out (post-wedding breakfast? Dashing off on more adventures? Sleeping and sleeping and sleeping and sleeping?) but as it turns out I found myself awake and ready to enjoy the GLORIOUS sunshine (good work, weather Gods - two gorgeously sunny Sundays in a row!) with plenty of time. An old friend of mine who lives in Brighton had also popped into my mind and I thought I'd find out if he fancied a visit. Turns out he was in Hastings with his fiancee visiting her Mum with their 8 month old in tow! Fantastic! Very unexpected but very brilliant, I got to meet said fiancee, Mum and 8 month old (who's called Arthur and is officially awesome) and hang out with Tom before they headed back to Brighton. A wonderful addition to an already brilliant weekend.
Speaking of small people on Friday I spent the day at my parents' in Oxfordshire and as well as digging the vegetable patch and picking apples (I could claim daughterly duty but actually I was clamouring for jobs I could do in the garden - gardening is ace) I spent a lovely few hours with my nephew and two of my nieces who'd been spending a few days with my parents. Children are inspirational - and definitely keep you on your toes! I am feeling rather more confident in my auntie-ly duties these days and it was lovely to see them - as well as my parents! Timing also worked out perfectly with us all heading off for our respective evenings about 4pm (my parents to return the trio to my sister and her husband) and me to jump on an Oxford Tube to London.
I was rather pleased with my parking spot and was all ready to jump straight on to a bus but I seemed to have hit Oxford at peak time for people getting the Oxford Tube so two went past absolutely ram-jam-full before I managed to get on one. A friend was having a birthday celebration in London and the fact I was "in the area" made it a complete no-brainer. Even better, Sci Fi London were having their Autumnal festival in the same end of town and, without really planning it more than about an hour beforehand, I decided to pop in there and say hello too. Sad not to have magicked all my SFL favourites to be there at the same time, but I saw a great number of old favourites and some fresh new faces to boot while reminiscing about old times. Good fun.
Another friend (who I lived with a long while ago, introduce to SFL and now looks after all the volunteers) was also heading to the birthday drinks so we headed off that way and I managed to raise plenty of "Tigger! I didn't expect to see you here!" which was great. Given the festival detour, we only arrived about 10pm and it became clear that the prospect of yoiking back to Oxford and then out to the sticks for a few hours' sleep wasn't particularly appealling...and so I just stayed out with the gang until about 4.30am until I made tracks to pick up the car and drive down to Hastings. Frustratingly (although in hindsight not incredibly so as parking in Hastings is a nightmare!) I missed one of the hourly buses by about 30 seconds but amused myself with a samosa, being confused by time and reading one of the free London newspapers until the next bus arrived. The magic of sleep deprivation won me the perception of having had a good few hours of sleep (got on the bus in the dark, got off in the light...so CLEARLY I'd slept for a good few hours - except it was actually about 70 or 80 minutes) and my body co-operated (I have no idea how) in sustaining me through until providing a taxi service for 3 folk getting the last train back to London from the wedding and seeing me head back to Hastings. That drive back from the castle was probably the hairiest bit of the weekend - the beautiful mist that had descended on the castle had also descended on the local roads and wending my way through unfamiliar country roads in patching heavy mist / fog was rather more exciting than I'd been expecting but just added to the mystery and brilliance. Passengers deposited I got back to the B&B for an excellent night's sleep before awaking to beautiful sunshine this morning. Stunning, stunning, stunning.
So there you have it, an adventure-tastic weekend. Brilliant, wonderous and exciting, and the intensity of brilliance all enabled by the Golden Chariot. Happy Tigger.
AND - how could I forget - an evening with my Space Twin to start it all off! Chats, great food and yet more revelations of the brilliance of the medicine of Touch this was a weekend and a half.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Mud & Spectating
The absolute highlight of today was getting properly muddy. I've recently got involved in a "garden share" scheme and have been linked up with a garden about 3 min walk from my house - result. Today was the first time I was free to do some digging since being linked up and, I found myself without much of an idea as to what I was going to do other than pot on some strawberry runners and plant a rhubarb root kindly donated (OK, coerced) from my parents' garden.
I've done some gardening in the past but wouldn't call myself an expert by a long shot. However, patience, a hand-fork and more plant-knowledge than I thought I had saw me getting on with the main border in the garden. It's a front yard and has a couple of narrow "borders" plus lots of big pots. There's plenty already growing but it's been left to its own devices for a while and I'm aiming to increase the number of "productive" plants growing. At first glance the main border seemed to be mainly weeds but as I got closer it had a lot of orange-flower-plants (which had been pointed out as useful for something, but I forget what and I forget what they're called: any pointers gratefully received - I think they're the ones pictured), parsley, strawberry runners, clover (good for nitrogen fixing while I'm working out what I want to grow) mint and a couple of hiding potatoes (I think they were potatoes...I wouldn't like to be sure). I rescued the plants I could identify (oh, and there was a clump of what I think was a lupin which I relocated) and then dug over the patch before replanting with a little more organisation and making one of the empty large pots into a parsley pot (much more accessible). How the plants will fare remains to be seen but it reminded me I do have *some* gardening skills and there's plenty of scope for learning more. The other pots have chives and forget-me-nots, among other things (and more strawberries!) and now I'm on the hunt for new and exciting edibles that I fancy eating and can get my hands on.
The morning was cold but while I was keeping active I was plenty warm enough and it was particularly brilliant to bring some parsley & strawberry plants home with the idea of potting them up and having them here. The potting has been done but I'm now somewhat short of suitable pot containers (so when I water them they don't spill everywhere) so shall just have to get through some more tofu (which comes in rather handy pot-trays, which some may consider plastic packaging...)
So yes, mud & gardening - brilliant.
The main reason gardening happened today was because I'm spending a whole weekend in Morecambe - for the first time in a good while. Last night there was an arts event in the streets of Lancaster (Light Up Lancaster - part of Lancaster Arts City) which I ended up at and today, being the Saturday closest to Bonfire Night, there were a couple of different fireworks displays going on. By accident rather than design (timing wise, at least) I arrived in a quiet back street of Bolton Le Sands just as their annual fire works got started and I had a great view from the comfort of the Golden Chariot and often silhouetted trees between me and the lower-level fireworks. So for two nights in a row I've been out and about, along with other people, watching things. And I think I've come to the conclusion I haven't done particularly well in cultivating my "spectator muscle" having preferred to be Doing. Last night there was one performance which was rather more interactive - a scaff-tower with various metal bits hanging off it which was used as a large percussion instrument, and which the assembled crowd was encouraged to have a play on as well. I didn't need to be asked twice. And I enjoyed both evenings - but there is a definite sense of wanting to Do more. There's a plan in there somewhere...
The morning was cold but while I was keeping active I was plenty warm enough and it was particularly brilliant to bring some parsley & strawberry plants home with the idea of potting them up and having them here. The potting has been done but I'm now somewhat short of suitable pot containers (so when I water them they don't spill everywhere) so shall just have to get through some more tofu (which comes in rather handy pot-trays, which some may consider plastic packaging...)
So yes, mud & gardening - brilliant.
The main reason gardening happened today was because I'm spending a whole weekend in Morecambe - for the first time in a good while. Last night there was an arts event in the streets of Lancaster (Light Up Lancaster - part of Lancaster Arts City) which I ended up at and today, being the Saturday closest to Bonfire Night, there were a couple of different fireworks displays going on. By accident rather than design (timing wise, at least) I arrived in a quiet back street of Bolton Le Sands just as their annual fire works got started and I had a great view from the comfort of the Golden Chariot and often silhouetted trees between me and the lower-level fireworks. So for two nights in a row I've been out and about, along with other people, watching things. And I think I've come to the conclusion I haven't done particularly well in cultivating my "spectator muscle" having preferred to be Doing. Last night there was one performance which was rather more interactive - a scaff-tower with various metal bits hanging off it which was used as a large percussion instrument, and which the assembled crowd was encouraged to have a play on as well. I didn't need to be asked twice. And I enjoyed both evenings - but there is a definite sense of wanting to Do more. There's a plan in there somewhere...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
