wellies with wings

moving....

2007-12-05T14:57:00.000Z

So a while back I decided I needed a change of scenery, a move to somewhere more me. It's taken me a while but I've finally got around to it. I'm leaving the lovely blogger for wordpress and my very own domain. From today I'll be over here. Or if you're really lazy and just want to pick up the feed from Feedburner, you can get that here. It's definitely a work in progress at the moment, I'm battling with PHP, plugins and widgets galore, but I like it. So come have a look, there's no point in hanging out here.

winner!

2007-11-21T20:15:00.000Z

I sat down to start writing this post about half an hour ago, but my chores got the better of me. There was a pile of washing in the basket, washing up covering the kitchen tops, but I'll be honest and admit that I did try to ignore them, again. Fortunately though, they niggled and niggled and got the better of me, so I now have the distant hum and chug of the dishwasher and washing machine in tandem. Of course, I'm still ignoring the rest of the kitchen that needs cleaning - but hey I can't do everything!

I have to make time to post about the Brighton Web Awards, which took place last Thursday. I would have posted sooner, but the hangover took a while to recover from. Friday was extraordinarily painful!

I admit, I went along convinced that I wouldn't win. When asked if I had a speech prepared, I said "no, there's no need!" So I sat down with the chaps from Future Platforms, drank some champagne and prepared my hands for clapping. By the time that Best Blog came around I realised I was starting to feel ever so slightly nervous, there was this page up on the big screen and a room full of people looking at it. The nerves continued as we listened to a presentation from Spannerworks before the winner was finally announced. And there was my blog, back on the screen. Did that mean I'd won? Yes, it did. And suddenly the room seemed a lot bigger and the walk onto the stage a lot longer than I'd expected. I came back to my seat, grinning from ear to ear, quite astounded at how the evening was turning out. Pleased as punch mind!

Of course, more champagne was opened, and drunk (much quicker than I realised - must have been those nerves catching up with me) and the remainder of the awards seemed to fly by. Now it was time for the dolphin race (courtesy of FP and their fab designer Bryan Reiger) - who was going to win Best Website of the Awards? Well my little green dolphin swam on, thanks to all the wonderful friends I had with their nifty texting fingers. Two awards in one night! No wonder I felt the need to celebrate!

It was a fantastic night, thanks to everyone who voted for me, you're all wonderful people! And congrats to all the other winners - I do hope your hangovers were less painful than mine!

Flash on the Beach so far

2007-11-06T22:52:00.000Z

Day two of Flash on the Beach and I think I can safely say that the thing I've found the most interesting are the fantastic works of art that I've seen at the close of each day.

Yesterday was Joshua Davis, New York based Graphic Designer who creates beautiful pieces of art using Flash. Not only is Josh a very funny chap, he's also wonderfully enthusiastic about his work. Bringing the stage alive, he took us through the processes he uses to create his work. I love the fact that each piece is different, and that Josh has no idea what the program will turn out next. What are you producing? "I don't know." What will it look like? "I don't know".

Today's goosebumps were created by Robert Hodgin, who uses Processing to create the most amazing visuals. I think rather than explaining it you should check out Robert's Vimeo page - I recommend the magnetosphere, it is truely beautiful.

On a separate note, wellieswithwings has been shortlisted for the Brighton & Hove Web Awards. If you feel this blog worthy, do feel free to vote for me.

cider, and a distinct lack of zombies

2007-11-02T19:08:00.000Z

Tuesday night was cider night, the Geek Cider Night in fact, at the Regency Town House. I'm a bit of a fan of the appley goodness and there's nothing quite like hanging out in best, if only part finished, venue in Brighton so I signed myself up and taxied over to learn more and of course partake of said goodness.

Jim took us through the history (I was rather surprised to find out that peasants had actually been paid in cider - happy if slightly sozzled workers!) to the making, both traditional and modern, before we tucked in to a range from dry to sweet. Middle Farm provided us with nine of the best, which we steadily (at least at first) worked through, noting our favourites along the way.

It was a really enjoyable evening, though I am quite surprised that I managed to wake up without a hangover.

I did wake up with germs though. Germs which meant I had to miss the Crawl of the Dead, something which I admit I'm still urked by. I was really looking forward to zombie-ing up and slowly staggering through the streets of Brighton with my fellow zombies; swarming into pubs and generally chasing after braaaiiiins for the night. I know all those who went had a fantastic time, so I'm determind to make it next year, latex scars and all. There are plenty of photos of the night, for those of you keen to see what a swarm of zombies looks like. I suppose it could be handy, just in case you ever come across one.

Slava's Snow Show

2007-10-24T11:33:00.000+01:00

Yesterday evening I went along to the Theatre Royal to see Slava's Snow Show. I'd never heard of the show until tickets were bought months back. To be honest I didn't think about it all that much, it was just a show about clowns. That is until recently when I mentioned it a couple of times to various people. Eyes lit up, there were cries of "oh, that's an amazing show!" or "I went two evenings last year, I'm going to try for three this year!" OK, I thought, so it's rather popular then.

I suspect that was my biggest understatement for a while now. I've never seen the Theatre Royal so full of people (although I admit I don't do panto which may well be extraordinarily popular for all I know). I was a little bemused by the quantity of white ticker tape on the floor, but was sure all would be explained shortly. Not only was it explained, it fell in abundance throughout the show and left me finding bits in my clothes until I got home. That's the kind of snow I like.

It became apparent as soon as the lights dropped and the music started that this was going to be something a little out of the ordinary. The colours are simply amazing, almost blindingly bright against the dark night background. Clowns come on, clowns go off, clowns chase each other, shoot each other with bow and arrows, soak certain members of the audience in water, climb over seats or along the edge of the circle high above the stalls. From the perfectly executed first half, we sink into further involvement on our return from the interval. Clowns are slowly working their way through the audience, falling on elderly ladies, stealing younger ladies and dragging them off stage. It is organised chaos and it is beautiful.

There is the elaborate balanced with the simple, longer stories balanced with fleeting sketches which last seconds yet make the audience burst into laughter. The barriers between audience and clowns are fully broken down at the end, when giant inflated balls are passed back and forth across the theatre. I did feel rather like an ant playing with a beach ball, although it did have the advantage of drying me off from my soaking earlier.

Watching the show is like seeing a fairy story played out before your eyes, a truly magical experience. Amusingly the second clown reminded me of my lovely friend Pete, who is also going to see the show this week. Unfortunately he is terrified of clowns, which I suspect may put a bit of a dampener on his evening, lets hope he manages to come out from hiding behind his hands for long enough to enjoy it.

The only thing I can say is Go See This Show! You will love it.

Picnic07

2007-10-02T17:33:00.000+01:00

So to Picnic07 in lovely Amsterdam. I spent three days immersing myself in everything from social networking, to film credits, to ubiquitous computing and I let my brain fill with interesting stuff, much like a sponge fills with water. It was brain filling by osmosis, and it was great!

I want to jot down some of my notes from the talks that really stand out for me, though be warned they're quite rough.

Jonathan Harris; Creative Genius (wefeelfine).

A partial view is more interesting than a whole. He became interested in studying the footprints of other people's lives, and started writing code to understand this.

wefeelfine: the way something behaves physically should represent the emotion behind it. Any link can be saved, and all saved links are added to the archive - creators are archivists.

The most common feeling represented is "better", out of around 4000 - 5000 emotions/feelings collected. The site is dominated by people in their 20's. This is passive observation, those posting do not know they're being watched.

The Whale Hunt Project - Jonathan wanted to subject himself to the same rules as he would a project. Set out to take a photograph every five minutes throughout the experience, even when sleeping. When exciting things happened, he would quicken the pace and therefore match the changing pace of his heartbeat. This led to 3214 photographs over 7 days.

The second objective was to experiment with a new interface for storytelling: taking the experience, documenting, attaching metadata to each document, then creating a framework to unearth other narrative angles.

This project isn't live yet, but should be in a couple of months.

David Weinberger: Everything is Miscellaneous

There is more porn, love, hate, utter foolishness, more amateurs and more experts on the internet. The task is to find more of value, of what is of interest and important to us.

Now we are digitising everything, we loose the authority that comes with the limitations of paper. In the first order, you archive things yourself. In the second you physically separate the metadata, whilst in the third everything is digital - the order is digital and the information about the order is digital.

There are four principles of change:

1. Leaf on many branches
2. Messiness is a virtue - each link adds value
3. There is no difference between data and metadata. Metadata is what you know, data is what you're looking for. If everything is metadata, our species just got way smarter.
4. Unowned order - online users own and control the organisation.

It's more expensive to exclude than include - we can't predict what other people are going to be interested in. Instead we can postpone the moment that we organise until the very moment we want to use the information. It's an additive process, not an exclusive one - by letting information go you're allowing it to accrue interest - Metabusiness.

We externalise meaning with the web, we do it every time we use tags. The web was built to solve the problems of messiness, it is about finding what happens to us and why it happens.

Stefan Sagmeister: Things I Have Learnt In My Life So Far

Did some work with truemajority - funded by big business to highlight the amount spent on the war with Iraq.

"Then we got really ambitious and went blimp shopping".

Stefan took an experimental year out in 2000. He found unavailability created desire, and also created freer briefs from clients, "do something". "Everything I do always comes back to me", "Trying to look good limits my life", "Everybody always thinks they are right", "Starting a charity is surprisingly easy". As this went along, the clients became freer and freer with their briefs, resulting in "do anything". "Keeping a diary supports personal development".

Adam Greenfield: The City Is Here For You To Use

Urban form and experience in the age of ambient informatics. How Adam became an urbanist: Jane Jacobs, Christopher Alexander, Bernard Rudofsky. They gave luminosity and a concern about life on the street.

Streets are no longer a space outside houses that we can use, they are now a throughway for cars etc. People's worry about cars, traffic, over-planning. We've managed to kill the street (although not in cities like Amsterdam which are still very much alive).

We have a repeating module of doom - branches of chain stores/restaurants repeating down each street. They take from the neighbourhood but don't give anything back. Malls created persistent alienation and displacement.

The conventional humanist response is that ambient communication doesn't do us any favours either (e.g. ipod's, mobiles). We surround ourselves with information rather than relating to our surroundings. It's a vicious circle - we've lost something.

But - "nostalgia is for suckers"! Ubiquitous computing is the way forward. "Everywhere" means that information systems are embedded in the environment, wireless, imperceptible, post-GUI. And information processes are showing up in new places, particularly at the body, street and city level (e.g. the Nike plus ipod kit). Information about our cities in being made available locally so that we can act upon it (e.g. wifi hotspots). this will profoundly influence, at a very simple level, how we make choices within the city we live in.

The bottom line is: a city responds to the behaviour of it's residents and users, in real time. "The city is the platform".

There are inevitable downsides to this: new inscriptions of class, over-legibility and emergent behaviour. But there are also upsides: more efficient resource utilisation, product-service ecologies.

Ambient information is increasingly going to pervade our cities, how and when will depend on our culture.

"Systems are for cities and cities are for people".

The most inspiring talk by far was from Dr. Sugata Mitra, Professor of Educational Technology, Newcastle University (United Kingdom/India) on Minimally Invasive Education through Social Play. I'm afraid I closed my laptop and sat back to listen, if you get a chance I really recommend that you go listen to Dr Mitra. His talk was both heart-warming and thought-provoking, and still makes me stop and think about how I can take what I learnt from it back to every day life. Teaching 300 illiterate, non-English speaking Indian children to use a computer and learn the principles of DNA (in English) in three months is almost unbelievable, especially considering that they taught themselves. Each wanted to be seen as the "teacher" within the group, driving them to find ways around the language barrier. I would love to see how Dr Mitra's research continues.

dConstruct 07

2007-09-25T11:26:00.000+01:00

I know, I know, I'm really bad at keeping my blog updated. It's been weeks since dConstruct and I haven't mentioned it once. Truth is, with two birthdays and catching up with the world I haven't really had much time to sit down. Tomorrow however, I'm heading off to Picnic and I really ought to get one conference down here before I start with the next.

It was unfortunate, and entirely my own fault for completely confusing the whole time zone issue, that I flew into Gatwick the morning of dConstruct and not the morning before as I'd originally thought. There were many tears and frantic phone calls to try and sort this out, but unfortunately there was no way I could change my flights without spending a fortune. So I touched down at around 10am, and immediately received a MMS from Joh of people registering an hour or so earlier. It was happening! A train journey, a brief kip and a stroll into town later and I made it to the last two talks.

Many people have posted up their thoughts on the day, so I will simply say that it was great to see so many people enjoying themselves. I heard many people utter the words "the best yet", and there was a really good atmosphere both at the Dome and at Above Audio afterwards. It was lovely to finally put names to faces having been in email contact with speakers, sponsors and attendees over the previous few months.

Of course, we're already starting to plan next years. And dare I say it, I'm really looking forward to starting the whole process again.

Thoughts on the Man

2007-09-13T22:20:00.000+01:00

I flew back from the desert a week ago, and I have finally caught up enough to be able to jot down a few words about my adventures. To say that Burning Man is crazy is glazing over it a little. My experiences were both bad and good, but I'd rather focus on the good bits - which were, in a word, amazing.

I think the first two things you notice are the heat and the dust. Now I know everyone says this, but really you can't imagine just how hot and just how dusty until you get there.

In order to acclimatise ourselves to the heat before we got there, we turned the air-con off whilst driving through the entrance to Black Rock City. And a short while later, having lost a couple of pints of water each, we turned it back on again. What were we thinking?! My first day camped was a horrendous day of dehydration and heat stroke. I gulped down water like there was no tomorrow, and yet it didn't really seem to go anywhere. I fluctuated between feeling faint, sick and quite oddly happy. Still, lots of Gatoraid, some rehydration powder and a snooze in some shade did the trick and by twilight Tom and I were wandering around the Playa.

The dust, well that's just freeky. It gets everywhere. I mean, you think it's got everywhere and then you have a white out and you realise that, impossibly, there are more places for it to get. We returned back to camp to find our tent covered in a layer or two of the plaster fine dust, unfortunately on the inside. It's alkaline and so it really hurts your feet and hands if you don't take care of them. Fortunately washing in vinegar does the trick. So yes, I did bathe my hands and feet in vinegar and yes, it felt perfectly normal. Course, you won't find me hanging around near chippy's now - it was a "strictly in the desert" thing.

The sky - wow now there's a sight. From the mountains on one side, to the mountains on the other, sky is all there is above you. Bright blue with clouds you can spend hours finding the shapes in, and at night there are so very, very many stars. So many, in fact, that you can see the stars between the stars and have this awe inspiring realisation of the galaxies beyond. After that it got a bit Stephen Hawking and I had to look at all the neon lights instead.

But enough of trying to explain it. You need to see it to believe it. But here are some memories, in no particular order as, to be honest, I can't remember what happened on which day. I blame the lack of sleep!

Vodka and red bulls whilst putting up tents, and a sip of bloody mary that actually tasted good.
That fine, fine mist of water sprays that is both startling and deliciously cold.
Break beats by the temple, a flame thrower over the dance floor.
The monkeys, a beautiful installation, some would say the best.
Crazy golf at night on the Playa.
Dance, Dance Immolation, which I never got to try out.
Roller skating during a white out.
Tying down a parachute whilst the desert blows in.
Rain on the Playa.
Tarot cards and ice cold home made red wine.
Watching the pretty lights, and standing with your friends gazing up at the stars, giggling.
Trampolines at 4am.
Watching the sun come up on theatre seats on the Esplanade.
Ice, ice, cold lemonade.
Spikes Bar, a happy Joh.
A lazy afternoon in hammocks.
The man, who burnt quietly.
The oil rig, exploding against the night sky and seemed to shake the world.
Walking for an hour and a half across the desert, without really noticing.
The Sapphire Portal, sitting down realising it was well worth the walk.
Porta potties that sang "happy birthday".
My boy, taking my hand and smiling at me, whilst inside my head I cry "We're in the desert! And right now it is just beautiful!"

I've spent a few nights dreaming of the desert, I suspect there'll be many more. And I know I will go back.

Hols

2007-08-02T19:36:00.000+01:00

Last week wasn’t all that nice in places. We had a lovely note from some neighbours pushed through our door (when I say ‘lovely’ here, I actually mean ‘rude and insulting’ but I thought I’d enjoy the sarcasm a bit), shortly followed by finding that someone had slashed the roof of my car. I know I’ve been having some problems getting it running recently (with really helpful mechanics saying things like ‘we couldn’t find anything wrong with it’) but I felt this was going just a touch too far (again, that lovely sarcasm). So there were phone calls to the police, garage and insurance company and I’m still waiting for it all to be sorted out.

So it was a welcome relief to have a couple of days holiday at the start of the week (and of course for the major upturn in sunny weather!) We didn’t go abroad but just spent four days pottering around, enjoying being able to stay till closing on a Sunday night (amid cider fuelled discussions on Burning Man), to wake up slowly and spend time by the river in Barcombe, or laze about by the beach or Queens Park reading (The Vesuvius Club – fantastically funny). Of course, I was really rather silly and neglected to put sun cream on and so now have a rather fetching lobster coloured back which requires careful movement when dressing/sleeping. Still, I’m not complaining (much!) – there is sunshine after all.

But it was rather nice to go back to work yesterday (yes, I did really say that) feeling rested. And only another three weeks until the Man – which of course won’t be restful at all, but will most probably include further sun related issues.

That lovely green stuff....

2007-07-18T11:49:00.001+01:00

On Saturday I finally got to visit Kew Gardens again. I say finally because I really wanted to go last year but never had the time, and two years ago when I first went seems, a long time ago now.

I love Kew, it's one of those places where I can feel my heart rate slow as I walk through the gates. (What is that about me and greenery?) Suddenly all is calm, the only distraction is the multitude of planes that fly over. I don't remember there being that many - but last time I went mid-week when perhaps there are less flights? Or I just cut them out of my memory, and chose to remember more trees instead.

With only a couple of hours to spare before the Mousetrap (I know - what a perfect day; gardens and Agatha Christie!), we took in the Pagoda and my favourite walk up the cedar vista. There's something rather lovely about the long grass, filled with grasshoppers (Ok, they were nice at the time but I'm not a big insect fan in general), trees reaching skywards and that occasional (Ok, not that occasional) interruption from the flight path.

Of course, no sooner had we walked out of the gate (and amazingly avoided the ice-cream van) we wanted to go back and spend a day, with a picnic and a book and not too damp grass between our toes.

A quick hike along a couple of tube lines and we were in Leicester Square, hunting around for the theatre (there are so many!) and a healthy dose of murder. Of course I can't tell you who did it (if you still don't know), but I can tell you that it was good fun. Tweed and chintz sofas ruled, posh accents and a fair dose of over-acting in true Agatha Christie style. And Tom only fell asleep once!

Amazingly the rain held off until we dashed for the train home, in itself quite a miracle at the moment. What was lovely was to get away from Brighton for a day, oh and all that green. I do love that green.

on ticket sales, poker & a traitorous car

2007-07-13T15:06:00.000+01:00

It's been a busy few weeks for me and possibly a bit too much burning of the candle at both ends. But it has also been a really exciting time. I've been busy organising more for dConstruct, tickets went on sale at 11am on Tuesday and sold out in an astounding 5 hours - an event suitably rewarded with a bottle of bubbly at Clearleft towers.

Yesterday evening was again time to celebrate the girl geekiness, at July's Geek Girl Dinner. Denise Wilton gave a fantastic talk on designing web applications with character, something I find increasingly interesting. It got me thinking more about using language to appeal to your target audience. Quite rightly, banks shouldn't be using "hey, you've just deposited some funds, cooool!" and if they did I suspect they would loose the trust of their users. Banks = serious.

However more social websites have a much freer reign when it comes to deciding on language and tone - do they want to appeal to teenagers, young adults, 30-somethings? The language and tone they use for each audience will be different, and will therefore not necessarily appeal to others outside this range.

I must try to catch Denise's talk at dConstruct (dependent on my poor sleep deprived brain and generally running around in a gopher like fashion).

I also played my first game of poker, huddled round the meeting room table, beers in hand and delicious pizza to keep us going. I ended up £1.50 up, although Cath cleared up very efficiently... I just wonder if it was the old "let the first timer win, she'll come back for more".. But yes, I suspect there'll be more Clearleft poker nights to come.

All this may lead you to believe that life is going good - and it is, apart from one thing. My traitor of a car. I laugh at the last garage I took it to (now I've stopped being very angry anyway) who claimed there was nothing wrong with it. Pah! I say. You take it out and wait for it to stall, stall, stall, stall, stall, refuse to start. Then you can cope with the panic and the trying to park it on a hill. So at present it's sitting there, all forlorn, waiting for me to decide whether I can afford to fix it, sell it, or scrap it.

zombie meme

2007-06-22T19:01:00.000+01:00

I have been Zombie Tagged, by Ginquinn to celebrate the young Mr Burt's birthday. By a stroke of sheer coincidence I put in an order at Threadless about two weeks ago, and what should be in that order? Well I'll tell you what - an "In case of zombies" t-shirt which quite frankly gives me answers a plenty on how to survive a zombie invasion. How handy is that? So without further ado:

1. Describe your zombie escape plan (generally). Explain your choices.

Well on another stroke of coincidence I was discussing zombie escape plans up in Leeds recently. Corner shops with their own generators seemed a good idea at the time, but since then I've come to a different conclusion. Somewhere with only one door, a long hallway and some stairs. That seems the best idea. You see, zombies a) arn't very clever and b) you can only fit one through the door at any time. So they're likely to form a nice queue, whilst lots of well-armed people can line the hallway and safely dispose of them. Of course, if it gets too much you just climb the stairs. After all zombies can't climb stairs and certainly don't have any ridiculous dalek type hover skills.

2. Who would you choose to have with you and why?

Strong men. This is for two reasons a) strong men are always handy to have around. I rather like them. And b) strong men are strong and therefore very good at killing zombies. I thought everyone knew that?

3. What is your choice of zombie bashing weapon?

Well obviously a cricket bat. They're great! In fact, my t-shirt helpfully says "sporting goods can be handy in a panic". But I'd like some big guns too - just to look cool.

4. Finally if you escape plan goes horribly wrong what will you do?

Sack all the strong men for a start! But fortunately here my t-shirt comes up with some helpful hints: "zombies are slow and dim-witted. It may be possible to move amongst them undetected". So I'd try that for a while and if all else fails, I'll die or become zombificated. Mmmmm brains......

designing interactions & friendly software

2007-06-18T19:15:00.000+01:00

On Wednesday evening I jumped on another train up to London with Andy & Tom for Designing Interactions at the RSA, part of their ongoing lecture series. Overall I found the talks really interesting, but it was the question and answer section which I got the most out of. There was a range from, "how can I find inspiration" - one I defy anyone to be able to answer, to how we design products to interact better with themselves.

Despite protestations that London is the place to be for design, I was not surprised to hear from Tony Dunn that a number of his students were finding it difficult to find placements here. I remember my brother finding a similar situation when he finished his Product Design degree.

Tom and I headed off at the end, missing the drinks in what I know to be a beautiful vault, and spent quite a while discussing whether software can ever be held in esteem in the same way that hardware is. You don’t hear people discuss Omniplan in the same way as they talk about their Macbook, when I can imagine voices softening as if talking of a friend. I boiled this down to the physical, you can reach out and stroke your ipod, you hold your mobile, but you don’t get that same level of closeness with software. It is an integral part of all these things that we use on an every day basis, but we don’t reach out and touch it. I think the closest we get to the same sense of engagement are social networking sites like Flickr – which has a voice that we can personify, can build a sense of community with. However, reading comments on Tom’s post, I could well be wrong!

On another note: finally, seven months later, the wallpaper is now all up. The Chinese Dragon print went up on Thursday, and looks really rather fabulous. Thanks to Mum for popping in and putting it up whilst I went to work!

more on ghosty

2007-06-07T10:57:00.000+01:00

Serge has uploaded video footage of last Friday night's ghost-in... Cool!

car trouble and late nights

2007-06-03T19:12:00.000+01:00

It’s turning out to be an expensive month, first the car, then the washing machine, now the car again. A trip out to The Ram in Firle was scuppered this afternoon when, having got to the Kingston roundabout I realised that there was something most definitely wrong. This was after Tom found the passenger foot well filled with water (a leak from the soft top I think), and so had been bailing us out at 70mph. Limping home, the revs all over the place, the engine stalling or just loosing power I was a bag of nerves by the time we got back. I love my car, I don’t want to sell it, but Lord only knows how much it’s going to cost this time.

Fortunately the rest of the weekend has been spent either out in the glorious sunshine (yay, summer’s back), asleep (most necessary), or staying up all night at FP towers watching Most Haunted Live from the Eastern State Penitentiary (it was only for the Ghost Detector for your mobile, honest). American TV – what can I say? There are lots and lots of terrible adverts, the majority of which are still jingling around my head (especially the Campbell’s soup one! Ghastly!). I don’t remember much else, I was tired, there was wine, and we didn’t leave till 7am. Good fun though!

Chelsea Flower Show

2007-05-29T20:17:00.000+01:00

The Chelsea Flower Show was great fun this year, the day only being slightly marred by lots of travel complications on the way home. But until four o’clock we had a lovely day wandering about in the sunshine. It was much busier this year, perhaps because the weather was so much better than last, and so we spent much of the morning huddled between ladies in their summer frocks and elder gents, Show Guides in hand, peering at the show gardens over shoulders. I spent a lot of time on tiptoe – pointing my phone over heads in the hope of getting a photo that showed at least some of the garden.

We voted for an early lunch (mostly because I hadn’t had any breakfast and was beginning to feel it!) before heading back out in the afternoon and fortunately getting a better look. I ended up with a head full of ideas, feeling really rather hot and with sore feet – definitely Pimm’s o’clock. It was glorious to sit back under a tree and sip a nice tall glass.

I was happy to see a wide range of designs, lots of fun new ideas and some new variations on familiar ideas. I especially loved the Un-Tei Garden of Clouds (although so did everyone else - there was always a hoard of people standing around it admiringly)! There was a "Where the Wild Things Are" garden - complete with boat and bed of grass (real bed that is). Then there was the Chetwood's Urban Oasis - a fantastic solar powered "flower", which opens and closes and pumps water around the garden. Probably wouldn't fit in my little patio though.

Of course, heading back into London a while later was rather weird. From greenery and gardens to the smog of Slone Square! But then disaster struck, on the tube we were told that Victoria station was closed, so started heading for London Bridge. Of course, Sod’s Law, halfway to London Bridge I saw that it was only Victoria tube station that was closed, but we were nearly at London Bridge so didn’t see the point in turning round. Heh – until we got to London Bridge that is! A trackside fire (which the tube driver helpfully didn’t actually tell us about until we got to the station) meant that the station was closed. So out we trooped, across the platform and back the way we came. Then a long walk along to Victoria, along with lots of other people, until we finally caught the train home. There was snoozing, and not much chatter – we were just glad to have got a seat!

Fortunately by the time I got home, foot sore and knackered, my head was still full of alliums and rills, beds in the sunshine and silk parasols galore. Fantastic!

adventures in town

2007-05-22T18:49:00.000+01:00

This week has been a bit of an eye-opener. I suspect it’s the fact that I’m in town during the day now, rather than stuck off in Falmer, watching squirrels and commenting on dandelion growth. In town, “things” happen.

Like last night, when we were 20 minutes late to Stewart Lee and therefore weren’t allowed in. OK, so we shouldn’t have been late (slapped wrists etc), but surely theatre's and cinema’s have been coping with late arrivals for decades? Couldn’t they have just let us in at the side, I’d have promised to be quiet. But no. They couldn’t. Grumpiness followed.

Which reminds me of last Thursday, when Katharine and I popped to the Dorset for lunch, and finally got it, 50 minutes later and wrong. I’ve decided their Eggs Benedict isn’t that nice, I’ll just go to Bill’s next time.

Today has been the turn of car related incidents. I jumped out of my skin on my way home at lunch time when a truck suffered two blow-outs opposite St Peters Church. The driver though, was very entertaining: he got out, checked his truck, shouted at the sky and drove off – tyres flopping against the road and wheels all buckled. Lord knows how far the loony got!

And on my way home, along a very near stretch of road was a Domino’s pizza delivery chap, having been knocked off his moped (I think, he look shocked, there was a smell of petrol, an over-turned moped and a couple of ambulance men). Fortunately my head was full of spreadsheets at the time, so I managed to cope with all this excitement just fine.

So tomorrow I’m going to leave exciting Brighton and head off to the Chelsea Flower Show. Nothing is likely to happen there, except perhaps a glimpse of Charlie Dimmock and or a wilting allium. At least, I don't think anything is likely to happen.....

and so to work....

2007-05-19T12:11:00.000+01:00

Shameless plug time! For those of you who haven’t already seen it elsewhere (and have at least a vague interest), the dConstruct 07 site is now up, running and looking rather fab thanks to lots of hard work from Paul in the Clearleft office. I’m really looking forward to it, not only will it be my first conference, I’ll also be helping organise it, and will have the great pleasure of flying back from the desert and San Francisco to attend. (OK, that bit I’m not looking forward to quite so much!)

Tickets will be available from July, so subscribe to the RSS feed for regular updates.

Right, that’s enough plugging from me! Back to the joys of the weekend.

so sleepy..

2007-05-16T19:41:00.001+01:00

I am absolutely exhausted. My head is full of Gantt charts, numbers from lists of invoices and PO’s. I’ve finished day three of my first week and I can barely keep my eyes open, but I am really rather happy.

It is typical that I start my new job in the week that we are getting out and doing the majority of our festival stuff. After a lovely weekend up in Leeds visiting Julie & Jonny (with a lovely day at the Forbidden Corner followed by the best ice-cream I’ve had in a long time), we spent Monday evening in the Udderbelly watching the Caesar Twins. I wasn’t really sure what to expect, having been told various things about half naked men in baths (poor Tom didn’t look impressed!) but the acrobatics were really rather fab – if a little painful looking.

Yesterday we headed out to James’ Telling Lies night, where I giggled about Bill and the mice with placards, and laughed until tears streamed down my face to the wonderful “pig heart boy” song. I will do my best to make it to the “Poetry in a Brothel” readings, firstly it sounds like great fun and secondly because it’s the first time I’ve had a chance to visit a “massage parlour” – not that I’ve ever really felt the urge to before, but you need to try these things I guess.

This evening though I have a night off, I’ve ordered pizza, I’ve blearily eyed a DVD for the evening and I plan on closing the laptop, ignoring the phone and curling up on the sofa with my bears. I wonder how long I’ll last before my eyelids give up on me and the snoring starts? (Not that I really snore, you understand. No, never. Well, maybe after a couple of beers.. )

drink pimps

2007-05-01T18:04:00.000+01:00

So I woke up this morning, looked around, groaned and thought, “yes, I do really have to get up.” It wasn’t nice, and I blame the rhum entirely. Last night we took my parents out to Drink Pimps at the Hanbury to (really rather belatedly) celebrate my mum’s birthday and give dad a chance to show off his cocktail making prowess.

We arrived, sat at a table complete with shaker, slop bucket, ice bucket, knife, strainer and muddler and were given a free cocktail to get us in the mood. Wehay! This was followed by a brief presentation on La Mauny rhum and how it’s made in Martinique (with lovely photos of the Caribbean, just to make us green with envy). And then the tasting; white rhum, amber rhum and old rhum (aged in bourbon or cognac barrels). Yum!

It was about this time that I thought to myself, “mmm, there’s rather a lot of rhum here, I suspect tomorrow morning will be painful”. Wow, my powers of deduction are unsurpassed! This morning was definitely ouchy.

We were given our secret ingredients and sat down to invent the “Caribbean Spray”. It involved bashing a lot of fruit about, squeezing a lot of lemon and lime and commenting on the fact that guava juice wasn’t all that helpful. I hasten to add that we didn’t win, but we did get wonderfully sticky fingers!

an exciting update

2007-04-27T11:01:00.000+01:00

What a week! Things have been remarkably like a roller coaster for the last couple of days, but it’s Friday and I think I finally have a clear enough head and a couple of minutes to tell you all about it.

On Monday night, still recovering from a rather heavy weekend courtesy of the MacKriell’s, six of us headed out to the Jooglebury for a Catalyst Club special. Ken Campbell regaled us with highly amusing tales of the Liverpool Science Fiction Theatre, how buying a parrot is only slightly more expensive than a computer and the joys of decorating dog poo (I kid you not!) It was really very funny, if a little weird, and cheered me up good and proper.

The lovely Mr Glasnost came around for dinner on Wednesday, complete with two bottles of red and in perfect timing to coincide with a fantastic job offer. Drink I did, and was merry (if somewhat distracted and liable to shout “woohoo” at inopportune moments). So yesterday I dashed about, handing in my resignation letter, trying to explain my new job to numerous people and being stopped in car parks, corridors and toilets and asked, “what are we going to do without you?”

What will I be doing now, you ask? Well on the 14th May I start as Studio Manager/Project Assistant at Clearleft. I am a combination of very excited and a just a little bit scared. I’ve been at the University for over five years now, so working somewhere else is a bit of a daunting prospect. But it is my ideal job, with a bunch of great guys and in the industry I want to work in – what could be better?

And now I shall go back to grinning happily at people and occasionally shouting “woot!” Me? Chipper? Good Lord yes!

bargaining

2007-04-20T09:16:00.000+01:00

On Wednesday evening Tom & I headed out to the theatre to see The Bargain, a new play by Ian Curteis based on the imagined conversations (i.e. blackmail) that took place between Robert Maxwell and Mother Teresa when she visited London way back in 1988. I’m not really sure what to say about the play, the jokes were fairly obvious, a lot more could have been done with the characters (Maxwell was the typical tyrannical capitalist). Mother Teresa was slightly more interesting, and came off as a cool, hard businesswoman rather than meek and angelic.

It’s not so much that I didn’t like the play (I only gave it a 4), but I’d decided to wear my pointy shoes and they were a little distracting. I mean you do need to make a bit of an effort to look good when you go to the theatre. At least, that what I’ve always been told. So to make up for the fact that I was wearing jeans (I had a minor crisis trying on a number of skirts and failing miserably to like any), pointy heels and a pashmina were my saving graces. Unfortunately my little toes didn’t really agree. They got somewhat squished. And the pashmina? Well apparently that’s just a scarf!

So last night, when all the girls bundled onto the sofa, wine or jasmine tea in hand, it was a great relief to be in a big cozy jumper and slippers. Me, style? But of course! I have a style all of my very own.

dark energy

2007-04-18T09:29:00.000+01:00

Yesterday evening we headed out to Café Scientifique at the Branch Tavern to listen to Bob Nichol answer the question “Has anyone seen our universe?”

Now me and maths, and physics for that matter, just don’t get on. I did try but for some reason each lesson became a struggle to keep my eyes open, to concentrate as equations and theories went way over my head and travelled off into the distance. And brown: there seemed to be a lot of brown involved in both maths and physics. Brown shirts, brown trousers, brown floors. However I was greatly impressed to understand (all bar the equations of course) the premise behind dark energy.

What really got to me though were a couple of small sentences. Firstly, what if the mass within the universe has enough gravity to stop it expanding? Will it then stop and reverse the expansion? Hold on! I thought, does this mean that we’ll end up being squished out of existence? And then my brain went down the whole, “but if we’re not here, and the universe isn’t here – what would be left?” series of questions, which make my brain boggle and the rest of me feel slightly disorientated.

Secondly there was supernovas, and how if one happened near us we’d have a whole two seconds before our atmosphere evaporated. “Don’t worry about global warming or your mortgage!” we were told. But somehow I have a feeling that the bank might get a little bit shirty if I told them that I didn’t want to pay the mortgage anymore because a supernova could happen at any minute and then we’d all be dead.

Fascinatingly though, I learnt that gravity may work in a different way when dealing with space-time. In fact, whole chunks of gravity may be leaching off into another dimension. String theory and the eleven dimensions are apparently not just way beyond my mathematical abilities but everyone else’s too, and so five dimensions seems a sensible place to start. Five? I thought. And then decided to stop thinking and go home and have some dinner.

picnic

2007-04-17T18:13:00.000+01:00

The first picnic of the year, and boy was the weather lovely. I've decided that picnics are the way forward this summer. There was something simply glorious about finding a patch of warm grass in Brighton, away from the hoards where you can lay down your blanket, nestle against your boy and only have the gulls to fend off.

We settled in Queens Park at lunchtime, having climbed up Southover Street panting (me) and admiring the view (Tom). After a quick look around we decided on a patch of grass near the pond, in sight of the ducks but far enough away from the nearest group of people. And then we began, tearing apart the loaf of soft white bread, smearing it with delicious dolcelatte or brie, fingers greasy from samosas and glugging on ginger beer. Personally I really don't like ginger beer, but glug I did, and only having drunk much of a can in one go did I let out a "yuck". No one can say I didn't try.

It was glorious, and since then I have filled my head with images of picnics in fields of long grass, picnics by the river at Barcombe, picnics on the sand in Camber... and of course without the lashings of ginger beer. There's nothing quite like them, and with a "garden" I can only describe as a walled-in area of concrete, they are likely to be the only times this year I shall be able to feel the grass between my toes.

I know how the green woods laugh

2007-04-08T19:19:00.000+01:00

It was the perfect start to Easter Sunday, a walk out along the farm track at the bottom of the paddock. The track leads along by fields of bright yellow oil seed rape, blue sky above and the warm sunshine beating down on the cracked earth.

We walked along to the end of the track and then up and around the fields, before picking our way through the yellow to a patch of woodland. Under foot the branches cracked, primroses, celandines and bluebells a carpet under still leafless trees. There was no noise at all but the bird song and hum of bees. And there we stood soaking it up and dreaming, my boy and I.

barcelona

2007-04-02T15:03:00.000+01:00

Tom and I headed off to Gatwick at around 4pm on Thursday, dashing through the rain, eager to start the holiday on sunnier soil. We landed in Barcelona at around 9:30pm, picked up my bag and headed through the dark in a taxi to our hotel on Carrer del Bruc. A brief unpack and change later and we were headed into the city for a lovely meal at Ciutat Comtal and a night of exploring Las Ramblas. We drank beer in a bar with bicycles hanging from the ceiling, spent time wandering through the narrow lanes and remarking on the number of people trying to sell us beer in red cans.

Friday dawned bright and sunlit and after finding coffee and breakfast we headed out to the Gaudi park. Despite much searching, we only saw a couple of kittens but spent the morning wandered through the gardens, sun on our backs. We caught the metro to Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s cathedral, which stands tall and grotesque, surrounded by cranes. With fascination we walked through the unfinished arches, staring up at windows, the façade, the gargoyles, through squinting eyes. It is an amazing structure, but one that leaves me feeling slightly unsettled.

We dined by the port, braving the cooling air until we had too many goosebumps and headed back for cocktails in a basement bar. We found a gem, the Palace Hotel, which served us mojitos with a pile of crisps and let us sink into the sofa for a few hours to talk.

On Saturday we caught up on shopping before heading to the zoo. What struck me particularly was the lack of fencing. There sat this pride of lions, tails flicking at flies and blinking into the sunshine, with only a trench and a short fence between us. Fortunately they looked far too lazy to make an escape, but I wondered if, had one of them been feeling particularly peckish, they’d have made short work of trench, fence and a tasty looking small child. Just as the rain started to fall we headed back for a snooze before dinner at Dom’s, delicious Thai curry and lashings of wine. It seemed fitting that we head back for one last cocktail at the Palace on our last night, wandering through the darkness and making plans.

spring

2007-03-27T10:36:00.000+01:00

Spring certainly sprung for me this morning as I walked home. Although there was that slight chill in the air, fresh and clear, there was a definite promise of warmth to come. I shut out the hum of traffic and just listened to the bird song gloriously rising from trees and gardens along the road. I can hear it now, above the tap of keys and ring of phones.

It is one of those quiet weeks in the office, where we stop to drink coffee and catch up every so often, gathering by the window to look out across the Downs. I keep hoping to see green on the trees, and look out daily for the first signs. The tree directly outside drops seeds over the course of one afternoon later in the year, which looks like snow falling. They stream through the open windows and cover the floor in a carpet of white fluff, but that isn’t until May.

If I had to choose a favourite month, it probably would be May. When the weather finally gets to the start of summer, with the first hot days. The flowers all seem to burst out in chorus, petals bright. It has a deeper significance to me now; one which makes the weather warmer, the days hotter, and the flowers seem even brighter than ever. It is truly wonderful and makes my heart sing.

of many spartans in leather pants...

2007-03-26T16:00:00.000+01:00

It was another productive weekend for me. I spent a lovely evening on Friday with Katharine & Lyndsey, drinking wine and chatting. Katharine told us of her new found fame, she may well be appearing with Sam (or perhaps just Sam with his dragon and no Katharine at all) on the television in May – something to look out for.

Despite the wine I managed to get up early on Saturday and head out onto the quieter streets with my bike. It started off wonderfully well, no traffic at all, but having navigated the terror of the Vogue Gyratory I then realised that the A27 is in fact a ghastly wind tunnel. I found out what all my gears do (not a lot in the face of so much head-on wind!), and peddled forth bravely until my legs could take no more. On the plus side, the cycle back was much easier and I felt gloriously angelic for the rest of the day.

I met up with my boy, and we headed into town for pizza at the Atlas Lounge, delicious and many cheesed. We braved the cold and stalked around the town, buying trainers and trousers before heading back home for a doze.

The evening was spent in the charming company of Dan, Lucy, Ken, Rach, and Paul, settled in at the front of the cinema for 300. Many fights, many battle cries “Spar-tans!” and many pairs of leather pants… oh, and a rhino and a strange goat (although I’ve been told it was Pan.. not sure about that one). I liked it, but I suspect some of the others were hoping for something a bit more “epic”. Sin City, I admit, was better.

Next it was on to Dangermouse Dave’s birthday party. We guzzled cider, caught up with more folks and thoroughly enjoyed a party at someone else’s house for a change. Then we realised that, due to the clocks changing, it was in fact far later than we’d thought, so we headed home, fell fast asleep and didn’t stir till Sunday lunchtime. Further naps followed and a remarkably quiet and restful Sunday was had. Glorious!

spring cycling

2007-03-20T15:51:00.000Z

On Saturday, whilst the weather was still warm and the sun was shining brightly, I took a wander into town with my boy for a spot of breakfast. We sat down in one of the window seats in The Dorset and people watched whilst I munched on eggs benedict. We talked bikes. I had decided, a day or so before, that a new bike was the way forward. I used to cycle around the countryside as a kid, and teenager, but after I passed my driving test all thoughts of such exercise were banished – the car reigned free!

I still love my car, it’s beautiful and is especially so in the summer months when I take down the top and speed off along country lanes, dual carriageways and the like. But there is something rather lovely about cycling along on a spring afternoon. At least, there is in my head.

So after breakfast we took a short walk to Baker Street Bikes, where I was introduced to my new hybrid; open framed and a shiny dark red. It wasn’t love at first sight, but there was a definite appreciation there. I added mudguards and a helmet to the list, a bike chain and lights and left it there to be fitted up.

This left us with an afternoon of sunshine, and a short trip out to Streat. The sun was indeed shining but the weather was also still cold, and it was with quiet determination that I drove back along the A27, fingers frozen to the steering wheel, wind blowing through my hair, bullishly refusing to put the top back up. An afternoon of sunshine, and the English go ever so slightly mad.

faust

2007-03-07T10:01:00.000Z

We got off the tube at Wapping, finding Wapping Lane easily whilst I gulped down the last bit of my prawn and avocado sandwich. Finding number 21 was a little more difficult; we stopped along the road to consult a map that made no difference at all, and giggling we reassured ourselves that it was just a little further along. It was. There, on the right hand side of the road, opposite the Tobacco Dock Pirate Ship, stood 21 Wapping Lane; a sign on the side proclaiming “WARNING: dangerous structure keep out”. With fifteen minutes to go until Group 4 opened the gates and let us in, we wandered about a little, admired the pirate ship and remarked on how the evening and suddenly become somewhat more obscure than a usual trip to the theatre.

At seven they let us in, and we took the long walk around the warehouse to the entrance, clustered into the worn and dusty hallway area before being led down into the dark. Here we caught a brief glimpse of the bar before each being handed out a white mask that covered our faces entirely, then herded into a lift and whisked up to the third floor. At each floor a number of us were shoved out into the darkness and told to be brave before the lift gates slammed shut and the few of us remaining went down to the next. On the first floor we were all out, letting our eyes adjust to the darkness and beginning our adventure.

For three hours we wandered through the dark, over five floors in near silence. We met the old Faust, the young Faust, Mephistopheles, Gretchen, Angels and an Evangelist. We walked through 1950’s diners and bars, through rooms that smelt of musty old fabrics, rooms where white linen hung from the ceiling. There was a corridor of almost complete darkness, lined on each side by candles and statues of the Virgin Mary, black tassels of fabric hanging from the ceiling and noises coming from barely visible rooms on either side. A room entirely filled with racks and racks of what looked like old tape cassette holders led in to another room, pentacle painted on the floor. There were floors filled with pine trees, a fallen church spire on the floor. An attic room that was filled with the scent of lavender and a mannequin hidden in the corner that would make you jump out of your skin.

In between this wandering, we caught glimpses of the story. Followed characters for a short while on their journeys, or watched entire scenes play out. We were all present at the final scene, acted out in the basement and lit by a blue light. We watched as the characters danced, hanging by their arms from the ceiling, or leaping onto cage walls, and still that darkness and near silence.

It was the most exciting play I’ve ever seen, and certainly the most adventurous. Leaving the audience to wander around, finding their own play within the play, being able to follow whichever character they wanted and yet knowing that they would never be able to see the whole story, that other sections were happening elsewhere in the vast building. A truly fantastic night out.

developments

2007-03-02T17:12:00.000Z

With a couple of early nights under my belt and finally having the wallpaper up in the sitting room (thanks Mum!), I am finishing the week in a much better mood than I started. I find myself curled up on the sofa, yet again watching rain splash against the windows, but with the whole weekend ahead of me. The lovely Donovan & Sam, just back from Australia, will be visiting this evening along with upstairs neighbours Lyndsey & Owen. Then tomorrow is Ikea followed by Amy and Em’s party whilst Sunday I intend to spend nestled somewhere quiet with a book and my boy.

Top most on my mind this afternoon though, is the news that the entire back of the building needs to be re-rendered as the current rendering has blown. This is hardly surprising; the maintenance so far seems to have consisted only of patching up cracks rather than dealing with the problem properly. It’s not an entirely unexpected development, but one that leaves me clutching at my wallet and wondering just how much it will cost. Perhaps replacing the kitchen will need to be put on hold for a while. But this work does need to be done, if the builder who looked at the building today is anything to go by, it hasn’t been for the past forty years! It’ll save time and money in the long term, but means that I won’t be decorating the bedroom just yet. There is damp coming in through the wall and I want to wait until any work is done before I start on that room.

So as I look up at my new wallpaper, and marvel as its lovely iridescence, I’m fully aware of just how much I will appreciate having one room done. It may be a long while yet before I can do anymore.

home and dry

2007-02-27T18:35:00.000Z

Today is a day when it’s good to be home and dry. I can hear the rain lashing against the windows, watch the drops run down, glistening in the streetlight and all the while hear the gentle tick of the radiators warming up. Zack, who is a bear of much sense, is nestled on a cushion next to me, occasionally opening his eyes to give me a look before stretching out a paw and letting his chin fall back into place.

I have found myself thinking more often of living in the countryside over the past few weeks. This evening is one I can imagine being perfectly spent in front of an open fire, watching the flames crackle and snap whilst knowing full well that the downpours continue on the other side of the walls. The church bells I can hear ringing from St Peters I imagine are from a village church, nestled between yew hedges with a graveyard full of stones bearing barely legible epitaphs.

It is fortunate that I have nothing planned for the evening but to cook lasagne and curl up on the middle of my sofa, cushions and blankets and bears at the ready with an Agatha Christie or P D James and nothing to interrupt but Mr Zack’s slow purr. I have prescribed this night of self-indulgence to help ease the melancholy that has slipped over me for the past week or so. I shall refuse to let the grey clouds past the windows, instead basking in the soft light and tempting smells of browning mince and garlic.

valentines

2007-02-15T10:47:00.000Z

At just after seven we loaded the car and headed out, headlights popped up, along the A27. Over the Kingston roundabout and on, past Beddingham, Selmeston and down the winding lanes to Alfriston, shrouded in darkness bar the occasional lit window.

Our hotel lay behind a long and smooth lawn, lit up to guide us in. We parked the car, dropped off our bags and walked the short distance along the pavement to The George. It is a beautiful pub, oak beams bringing the ceiling down low, a roaring open fire and leather sofas making up the quiet snug. We supped on delicious local ham, roasted garlic, warmed balsamic vinegar and home made bread. Then fillet steak on half a toasted muffin with home made béarnaise sauce, thick cut chips with a sprinkling of salt. Finally there was chocolate ice cream for my boy and an enormous board of cheese for me, crackers sloping off the sides and thick creamery butter. We drank red wine and talked low in the candlelight.

The phone never rang, there was no car in sight and walking back through the night we marvelled at the brightness of the stars. And how delicious to wake up to bird song and out of the window the river, winding back and forth across the fields, trees bare of leaves and not a sound of traffic or people to be heard. Perfect.

a return

2007-02-12T19:45:00.000Z

Dear Readers, I do apologise for my recent lack of posting. Life recently has been somewhat busy, on those occasions when I have found myself with a brief period of peace my brain has only come up with utter nonsense. “Oh yes,” it will say, “ice over the road and breed slightly lop-sided penguins. Then we can indeed invade France and steal all their cheese!” Not, perhaps, the most helpful of ideas, but I admit to being somewhat fond of French cheeses.

I have, however, finally got the sitting room painted. It is now a delicious pale greeny/blue, which brightens up the whole room. I have found myself picking up the rolls of wallpaper and holding them against this glorious colour, smiling gleefully. I’m crossing my fingers that it won’t be too long until this final bit is done and can then move onto the bedroom and that beautiful golden Chinese dragon print.

Last Wednesday I had a lovely visit from Katharine and Lyndsey. We spent an evening drinking wine, trying on my fabulous new corset and gossiping in true girly fashion. With the flat beginning to look more like a home and less like a storage facility, more visits from friends are in order. This evening Joh is popping over, and tomorrow James. At last, visitors!

My brother is having a very exciting day today, he has completed on his own house along the coast in Eastbourne and is now, I hope, settling down to the traditional fish and chips amongst his own set of boxes, hunting frantically for a fork and a bottle opener. I shall have to pop over and visit soon, though I suspect allowing him a week or two of settling in would be appreciated.

So far, I admit, I haven’t hinted at much busyness. But in between the painting and the visits from friends I have been to birthdays, sat in pubs drinking beer and getting excited about Burning Man. I’ve cooked rösti for my boy with delicious bratwurst brought back from Switzerland. I’ve drunk cocktails with Jane and found a new gym, eaten Japanese takeaway with Pete, had dinner with friends and driven out to the country. It has been a lovely few weeks, but I do feel guilty for not posting for so long. I do promise to do better, dear reader, and not neglect you for so long again.

evening in

2007-01-23T18:27:00.000Z

Although it’s the Brighton Bloggers Meet Up this evening, I’m feeling achy and cold, my nose is running and I feel generally rather sorry for myself. I don’t want to be ill, I hate colds, and so in an effort to stop any further germination I’ve decided on an evening in, with a cup of lapsang souchong, the furry cushions and Zack to keep me company.

I’ve also decided that the best way to fill my evening is surround myself with candles and dig into The Shadow of the North, one of a collection of new books that arrived from Amazon yesterday. Yes, I know I said I couldn’t buy any more books until I’d got the shelves sorted, and I know that I haven’t done that yet and am still deciding on paint colours, but I forgot! I was swept away in the moment. Books, I said to myself, I must have those books. And so I bought all of the Sally Lockhart series and I don’t feel sorry at all.

I’m trying to resist the lure of take away, instead leaning towards the lure of hot soup and eggy-bread. When I have a cold, well when I can still breath and have a cold, I find it increasingly difficult not to just shovel food down my face. After a weekend of doing much the same, although without the excuse, I can’t really justify phoning Murasaki Bento… or can I? I am feeling a little under the weather after all, what better time to dig into gyoza and chicken katsu? I must be strong. More tea, I think, and the next chapter. That’s bound to help.

chilled for a while

2007-01-22T19:04:00.000Z

At last there was a quiet weekend. After a Friday afternoon with a major crisis at work, it was entirely necessary that I spent the evening curled up with the cats and a good round of murder mysteries, nursing a gin and tonic and recovering from my grr-y-ness.

Saturday dawned with glorious sunshine, in January! What joy! It was made better by a lovely, if brief, jaunt into the countryside, lunch at the Open House and a deliciously decadent afternoon nap. Saucy was in store for supper and discussions on beliefs and evolution. Then I have to admit, I gave in and despite many protestations over the months, watch Napoleon Dynamite. I’m still not sure I like it; although there were some beautiful bits, mostly I just found it teeth-wrenchingly painful to watch.

On Sunday we had a lovely time having lunch with James at the Chimney, and ate roast chicken (as you can see, I spent a lot of time eating this weekend, but of course it is one of my favourite things) whilst catching up. We wandered around town, snoozed on the sofa and generally spend the day doing exactly what you should on a Sunday – nothing.

But today is full of excitement because today I booked my holiday and bought the tickets for Burning Man! We’re going to the desert!

five things

2007-01-09T18:41:00.000Z

Having been tagged by Joh, and having spent quite a lot of time trying to find one interesting thing about myself, I’ve finally made it to five:

1. I’m still afraid of the dark. So much so that after a nightmare I may find it impossible to sleep without the light on. This happens less often these days, but I do still find myself compulsively checking behind me if I’m walking along in the dark.

2. I can’t swim. In fact I’m quite terrified of water. At school, at the tender age of around six, I went swimming. Unfortunately the shallow end was full so we had to wait in the deep end. I sank, and sank and began to get terrified that I’d never see the surface again. I grabbed hold of my PE teachers arm and, having seen the sheer terror on my face, he took me to the side of the pool and left me to shiver. Since then, swimming and I have not got on.

3. I worry that I have no dress-sense at all. I look at other people and, no matter how much attention I paid when getting dressed, I feel that somewhere along the line it’s gone a little awry and I’ve been left with no actual sense of style at all. This is why I wear jeans so often. They’re safe.

4. I love imagining that I live somewhere different, like in a cave, or underground. I’d love to live in a windmill, or water mill. I used to be fascinated by the cave in the Famous Five books and would spend hours imagining that I lived in something similar.

5. I cry far too easily. In fact I’ve been known to cry at mobile phone adverts (the ones for the Carphone Warehouse when the poor blighters get left behind). I’ve become quite good at hiding it, especially in cinemas, otherwise everyone would think me far too girly and emotional!

** As per Joh's instructions, I'm tagging: Ed, Glasnost, Kerry, Jeff, Aims. However, I don't think any of them (other than Ed) read this blog! **

insecticide

2007-01-05T17:04:00.000Z

So it’s finished - three days back at work after ten off and the only really difficult part has been wrestling with bizarre sleeping patterns. Why is it that I can’t fall asleep before 2am? And why all the weirdly vivid dreams? I don’t need insects in my dreams! The world would be much nicer without handbags filled with enormous woodlice!

I’m hoping that the weekend brings the breaking of this week long problem, with an evening at the Krater Comedy Club tonight. I haven’t been for far too long, having had a lovely spate of visits a while back. For very convoluted reasons, whenever I see MC Stephen Grant now I will be picturing Johnnie Vegas, but I’m sure I’ll get over this minor affliction soon enough. A good giggle is just what I need before term starts on Monday.

I need to pick up the wallpaper tomorrow, which means that yes: the plaster is finally dried. The damp proofing is finished and the decorating can start. Which coincides wonderfully with the start of my chief helpers yearly holiday on the slopes. Just my luck!

I also need to find a lion tamer costume for tomorrow night. As usual, photos will be posted so you’ll find out more in due course, but I expect the usual messiness.

out with the old, in with the new

2007-01-02T19:21:00.000Z

New Years Eve was a fitting end to what has been a year of many changes and wondrous beginnings. We started out at Giles’, where we drank red wine and caught up with old friends. We then headed over to Dan’s for midnight, guzzling bubbly and playing games. We sat about discussing what 2006 had meant for us, and what our plans were for 2007.

For me, 2006 started off quietly. The first few months of the year were a little frustrating, with me very stuck in an old rut. James helped me out of this, taking me along to story-telling events and introducing me to new people for which I will be forever grateful to him.

Also due to James, I headed out to a May Day festival on the last day in April which led to one of those afternoons that you know will change your life. One date, and seven months later, and I can confirm that it certainly has! The last seven months have been filled with fireworks, and in the words of a very wise man “it is just the beginning”.

In September I left my home for the past eight years, having a brief sojourn at Rosehill moving in to my very own flat. It was a time of great stress but picking up they keys that wet October morning more than made up for it all. With the plaster nearly dry after the damp proofing, I’m looking forward to picking up the wallpaper at the weekend and beginning the decorating. Soon it will be looking more like home, and I will finally be able to get rid of the multitude of boxes. I love my home, and am really looking forward to having more of my friends to visit in the near future.

I have shared some fantastic times with friends, although both my best friends have had a difficult year. Katharine has had to deal with the knowledge that Sam, my Godson, is autistic. She has coped so well, and I am enormously proud of her for remaining optimistic in the face of such adversity and being such a fantastic mother. Lyndsey has been diagnosed as suffering from CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, or ME in old currency), which I know has been incredibly frustrating for her. However yet again, she is coping remarkably well and not letting it get the better of her. Even the little improvements that she makes are huge milestones, and I am thrilled that she is starting to manage her illness more effectively.

I have also decided to change careers, something I have been pursuing recently and will continue to do so into the new year. I’m looking forward to making the break, although the thought is a little daunting.

2007 is going to be a marvellous year, I feel so excited about it. But 2006 was amazing – and I will always remember it for being splendid in so many ways.

Christmas

2006-12-28T18:44:00.000Z

Once I'd opened my stocking and recovered from my hangover, Christmas morning began to look a little bit easier to deal with. I spent a lovely day roasting boar, drinking bubbly, munching on smoked salmon and opening a multitude of presents. It was a wonderfully relaxed day, with the food turning out tasty, the company cheery and the required silence through Dr Who.

On Boxing Day I woke up full of cold, something which I haven't yet managed to shift. Tom drove us out to my parents where we munched our way through goulash, whilst keeping myself breathing with the help of a stiff gin and tonic. It was another lovely relaxed day, with the usual banter and yet more fab presents. Unfortunately though, by five I was beginning to flag and so we came back to Brighton and curled up on the sofa to end Christmas with a quiet night in and a couple of glasses of wine.

It was lovely to catch up with friends and family and despite cooking for people, it was all thoroughly calm and unpressured. All the presents I recieved were wonderful and very thoughtful, and it has been so lovely to just spend time with my boy. I just hope I'm feeling better for New Years...

phew!

2006-12-22T18:12:00.000Z

I've wrapped all the presents, I've put up the tree, I've put the tree up again once the cats had knocked it down, I've cleared the dust and cleared more dust from the plasterers and I've finished work until next year.

Tomorrow I'm going to pick up the joint of wild boar ready for marianading. I will
do this for approx 48 hours with red wine, ginger, chilli, bay leaves, garlic and onion and will also use this mix as a baste whilst I slow roast it on Monday. I'm then going to make the Biscuit Tortoni for the dessert, a frozen mixture of sherry, cream and biscuit that was my favourite for a number of years. I'm really looking forward to cooking again, having not had time to make anything resembling a proper meal for weeks now. The days of catching up on our working day over the oven have been few and far between and I've really missed the joy I get from concocting something heavenly.

I'm so looking forward to relaxing for the next week and a half. Christmas Day will be lovely and relaxed, and after that we're off to Mum & Dad's for Boxing Day. Lyndsey and I are off to the ballet on Wednesday evening and that is all I have planned until New Years Eve. It's such a wonderful feeling to know that I don't need to do anything for days on end.

damp begone

2006-12-10T18:14:00.000Z

It's with some frustration that I find myself boxing up books again today. Two months after moving in, I now have the damp proofing starting on Monday which means that I have to clear the area in front of the window. However frustrated I am at the reboxing, I'm grateful that they could fit me in before Christmas. The sooner the damp problem has been treated, the sooner I can decorate and also the sooner the smell will go. It's not an over powering smell, but it is there and I find it particularly noticeable when I first walk into the flat.

Until the initial work has been done, and the area can be left to dry off over the next few weeks, I can't put up any decorations. Great for my wifi, but having spent the day Christmas shopping, I find myself missing them. I want to put up my tree! I want flashing lights and baubles! But it'll just have to wait.

I am also having a think about how to move on with this blog. I have been writing another one recently, and I'm unsure whether I want to continue writing two or not.

dublin - fair city

2006-12-04T18:24:00.000Z

We spent a lovely weekend wandering around the streets of Dublin, dodging rain drops and folding our collars up against the wind. On arriving we were welcomed with the wonderful news that our room had been upgraded to an apartment, giving us a kitchen and sitting room along with our Divine king sized bed. We headed out to lunch and a stroll around Temple and Grafton Street before an evening of Nepalese food at Monty's of Kathmandu and cocktails in the bar with the added excitement of a man dressed as Father Christmas, trying desperately hard not to set fire to himself whilst limbo-ing under a flaming pole.

Saturday was much the same, more strolling about in search of lunch before an evening of comedy (although some was distinctly unfunny and even a little scary) at Bankers, where keeping the audience under control seemed to be the main source of entertainment. We decided to head back for more cocktails, and perched by bamboo trees or perched on square seats under heaters, gazing up at the rain.

Sunday seemed to come around far too quickly, and a morning of an enormous breakfast, followed by sitting about recovering from it and reading the papers, was followed by our journey back to the airport and the unwelcome news that flights were being cancelled left, right and centre. By the time we left, on time, there was a general feeling of grumpiness from a number of passengers but there were no further problems and we landed safely only to be faced with the thought of buses from Three Bridges! I bit the bullet and decided that a taxi was the only way forward, so half an hour later we were greeted by very happy cats, a warm flat but with still that sad feeling you get at the end of a break.

I'd love to go back to Dublin, but with a record four holidays proposed next year, I suspect it may have to wait a bit longer!

catching up

2006-11-29T18:26:00.000Z

I headed out to the Cella last night to catch up with some of the survivors of Black Friday. It was fab to listen to the lovely Dominic VonTrapp and spend an evening drinking yet more cider and laughing at Amy's lady beard.

It's been a busy few weeks but I'm so looking forward to a weekend in Dublin. With only one working day to go, I can see the light and boy is it glowing. We've made no plans, except to visit a comedy night, and I fully intend to just enjoy being able to amble about aimlessly. It feels like such a long time since my last holiday, so many things have changed since July.

This evening I'm heading out for dinner with the lovely Katharine, something I haven't had a chance to do for ages and so am really looking forward to it. However, with a very busy day tomorrow I must stop myself from getting into that holiday spirit too early!

lounging

2006-11-23T19:38:00.000Z

Finally my beautiful sofa has arrived, and I am sat with feet up relaxing in a most comforting manner, marvelling at how I ever survived a month without one. It is enormous, in fact if I lie down there is still room at the other end, which is a most satisfying discovery. I suspect that any number of lazy days will be spent, sprawled out in comfort, book in hand, tea or gin and tonic within reach and head resting against cushions. Utter bliss.

Yesterday evening Tom and I popped into the Library to see the highly amusing Jon Ronson. I now have a strong desire to incapacitate goats with the power of my stare, but suspect I would have as much luck as the US Army. Still, I can but practice!

Rain

2006-11-17T18:47:00.000Z

It is glorious to be inside tonight, as rain lashes the window panes and races down in torrents from the guttering, splashing loudly on the patio. What better than to be curled up with the bears on their bean bags, or watching them chase a wine cork around the flat, a glass of gin and tonic and Bach to keep me company.

I managed leave early today and came home to nap away the afternoon. It has left me feeling much more able to cope with making soup for Lyndsey and an evening of champagne cocktails and series six of Sex & The City. I am, however, still slightly concerned about my boy who has gone off to London to be brain-washed by a cult. But then I suppose anyone would be a little apprehensive, wouldn't they?

red and gold

2006-11-15T09:53:00.000Z

I opened the car door this morning to the lovely early smell of autumn leaves, which coated the car park in their beautiful gold, yellow and red hues. It was glorious to gaze out over the roofs at the distant trees in Stanmer Park, russet red against the sky. This is one of the things I love most about autumn, those beautiful colours and the way the air suddenly starts to bite but is at the same time fresher and cleaner.

I want to pull on my wellies and kick up mountains of leaves, to splash through puddles with a scarf billowing out behind me, gloves pulled on tight and my nose and cheeks burning red against the chill. I want to set out on adventures mid way through Sunday afternoon, and come home in the dark to a glass of red wine and a bowl of home made soup.

It’s on days like today that I really miss living in the countryside.

oh for decorating

2006-11-14T11:37:00.000Z

I am beginning to find that being surrounded by boxes is taking its toll. I feel as if I can only look at half my sitting-room, I do my best ignore the piles of boxes or I get this horrible sinking feeling.

Fortunately though, I have an entire Saturday without my boy to go trawling around looking for light fittings, wallpaper, paint and the like which will certainly help me to see the finished product more clearly. Unfortunately I won’t be able to start decorating the majority of the flat until January, but I’m looking forward to at least feeling as if I’m making some kind of headway.

It is going to be odd having bare walls and dust everywhere for Christmas, but I’m relieved that the whole process will be over as quickly as possible. The sooner the damp proofing is done, the sooner I can get the place looking spick and span. Although I’m settling in as the weeks go by, the colours are definitely not mine; sparse and blank they remind me of hospitals or show homes. I can’t help feeling that until I’ve made my mark on the flat, it isn’t quite mine.

a step back from it all

2006-11-12T12:30:00.000Z

It has been one of those rare weekends of late mornings with pots of tea, wanders through the Lanes and afternoon naps. A glorious muddle of visits to friends and feasting on delicious food, with a spot of escaping from the world.

On Friday we popped in to see some presentations from local Flash developers at DScape, before heading off to Ben’s birthday gathering. We stayed, caught up with Dave and talked job interviews with Jane before heading off to munch our way through Japanese food at Murasaki. Saturday was started with a much-needed lie-in; followed by a lazy jaunt into town, lunch at the Fringe and a couple of hours spent in search of a shirt and a skirt. I managed to sneak in a nap just at the light faded, watching the darkness grow out of the window as I drifted off.

Saturday evening was pure and utter escapism, as we headed off to the Hanbury Club for dinner and an evening of black gloss chairs, gorgeous wallpaper and the fabulous feeling of being thrust back to the 30’s. It was perfectly relaxing to just sit there, tables far enough away to be unobtrusive, conversations not overheard, in our own cocoon of fabulous food, delectable cocktails and a beautifully crisp bottle of white wine.

Today I plan to spend immersed in books, with the occasional burst of tidying whilst I wait for the kettle to boil. I fancy a lazy day of slippers and warm socks, of curling up under blankets and keeping the outside world firmly on the other side of the double-glazing. Today is just for me.

of broken plates and scottish accents

2006-11-03T13:57:00.000Z

Today I am glum, miserable and achingly gloomy. I feel heavy with weight, from the piles of work that surround me to the knowledge that I have to empty the dishwasher, a task which today seems insurmountable. I long for my duvet, to curl up, close my itchy eyes and let sleep wash over me. I long to nestle on my soft brown leather sofas, which of course have not yet arrived, thick socks pulled on and blankets on my knees with a pot of Earl Grey and an Agatha Christie. I long to be sat by an open fire, watching the sparks light up the chimney breast like miniature fireworks, breathing in the wood smoke and listening to nothing but the crackle and pop of the sap.

All these things seem so far removed from the dullness of my desk. Another day spent before it, bleak and utilitarian and offering up nothing to nudge my imagination. The chair makes my back uncomfortable and hunched, the table is cluttered with piles of applications that I can’t store anywhere else. And to listen to me roll off this catalogue of complaints is only exacerbating the glumness.

To make matters worse, my lovely new John Lewis plates have just arrived, and three out of four have been smashed into pieces on their way here. Fortunately I spoke to a lovely man, with a delicious Scottish accent named Kenneth (although in my head he is definitely Hamish) and a replacement set are on their way.

Oh for four o’clock when I can return home and bury myself under blankets and duvets and shut out the day until I am recovered enough from this misery to venture forth, in my new skirt and boots, to Gars with my boy. For most of all, today I want my boy.

a weekend of opposites

2006-10-29T19:04:00.000Z

On Saturday morning, battling a slight hangover, we headed out to Crawley for Nig and Paul’s 30th birthday and an afternoon go-karting. We donned our boiler suits, pulled on gloves and helmets and set off around the track, adrenaline getting rid of my hangover at almost the same speed as the go-kart.

On the second run I found myself in a four kart pile up which left me with a twisted and swollen ankle and a bruise on my left thigh which anyone would be proud of. A day later it is black and purple and spreading with ferocity across my leg. But it wasn't over yet, through my steamed glasses I saw the others zoom around the track and was surprised that the fast rate I was going was nothing in comparison. I was lapped and lapped again and found that the only thing for it was to put my foot down.

But seemingly minutes later it was all over, just as I was warming up. Our 45 minutes up and due to my lack of speed we finished second to last. Only slightly disappointed, I’ve now sworn to do it again, once my current injuries have healed.

Fortunately an evening spent in the Albert with many a pear cider followed by Chinese takeaway with Tom and Ben meant that my ankle at least, had recovered sufficiently this morning. A lazy day followed, spending time with the bears and strolling through the autumn sunshine to the Open House for roast chicken with bread sauce. Gloriously, I curled up on the sofa to snooze, dipping through the odd Asterix and Ian Rankin and watching the world go by. Just what Sunday’s are for.

and rest

2006-10-24T20:10:00.000+01:00

Here I am, stealing WiFi from someone, squeezed in between boxes with only a Mongolian cushion, a glass of warm white (there is no fridge yet) and the cats for company. But oh what relief! And what joy! I'm in! I have my own flat, home owner I am.

The move went remarkably well considering the rain we had on Friday. I completed at around 11am, quite unexpectedly and proceeded to load up the van with Mum and the lovely Pete, dashing back and forth from storage to the flat, hefting tables, the bed and television, but mostly (to my pride) boxes and boxes of books.

It was an evening of the traditional fish and chips, followed by champagne and a visit from the upstairs neighbours Lyndsey and Owen. We drank till the early hours, leaving me far too tired to think straight as I headed up to Ikea on Saturday to pick up the necessary essentials. I now have a multitude of glassware that leaves me ready for any occasion, and further bookshelves to store my beautiful books. However, I fear a reckoning has come. In order to buy more, I must get rid (she whispers quietly in case they hear) of a number of boxes of those few I shall never read again. I promised it would never happen, but I'm now faced with the horrible realisation that I only have so much room.

I am still awaiting the fridge/freezer, but have installed the dishwasher. I'm awaiting my new sofas at the end of November, but have got a sun lounger, piled high with duvets and pillows. All in all it feels much like camping out, but with central heating. Already my flat feels like home, and with the cats settled I feel my shoulders droop and all the weight of worry fall away. Of course, that could just be the wine!

tuesday's history

2006-10-17T10:42:00.000+01:00

Today I will be posting on the History Matters blog, describing the in's and out's of my Tuesday. I'm glad they're aiming for "run of the mill" posts as I'm not expecting to do anything too exciting but will be leaving campus for lunch at the Open House, which is a least out of the ordinary.

sunny sunday

2006-10-15T15:41:00.000+01:00

We set off just after one o’clock, taking the top down on the car and heading along the A27 to Kingston. The Juggs was busy, but we settled in on a table in the garden, dappled sunlight shining through the hedge. I ate roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with redcurrants hiding in the centre. Tom had a cheese and ham ploughman’s, the warmth of the day making it entirely suitable despite being mid October.

We took a wander up The Street, greeting the occasional dog. We looked at gardens, through windows, searched for an old well and walked through woodland and uphill before gazing out over the fields. We watched leaves caught in the wind, said hello to a group of sheep and saw a dragonfly dancing through the air.

A glorious way to spend a Sunday afternoon. I feel rested, relaxed and determined to move back to the countryside. I miss the birdsong, the fact that all the noise is in the distance, and that glorious sense of peace that vast swathes of green gives me. Oh for walks though autumn sunshine, being snowed in and curling up in front of an open fire, watching for those first signs of spring as the flowers push up through the grasses, and those long balmy summer evenings, sat in the garden with a glass of wine and no reason to go to bed.

imagining at dusk

2006-10-13T18:40:00.000+01:00

A week to go and I’m finally starting to feel my stress levels dip to something near the normal levels. After exchanging on Wednesday I could literally feel the worry fall off my shoulders, although despite this they still feel tense and tight. I feel a massage is in order once the move is over and may splash out on a morning at The Treatment Rooms.

I have ordered my fridge/freezer, dishwasher and gorgeous new plates. I decided on duck egg blue square plates, thinking ahead to how I’m going to decorate the sitting room once the damp proofing has been completed. I’ve searched for book shelves and sofas, rugs and cushions, dining chairs and wardrobes and have now only to decide on a sideboard. I can actually feel each idea, each design, click into place in my head. I can see myself in my rooms, curled up on the sofa reading a book or pouring a gin and tonic and gazing out of the window into the dusk. Perhaps a little romantic but I need to imagine these things. For such a long time now I’ve merely been seeing the worst, the downside, the problems and the difficulties. It is such a big step to be looking forward to living there again, as I did when I first looked around the flat. Such a relief to shake off the shackles of the moving stress.

But it hasn’t all been flat related around here. On Wednesday Ayng and Rob came over for cheese fondue, we supped on wine and played Horror Top Trumps, dipping our bread and dribbling cheese across the table. I was simply happy that the cheese thickened and guzzled on the celebratory bubbly contentedly. It wasn’t long before the conversation sank to its usual depths, with Tom eventually managing to divert us from persuading him to don his “Big Baby” dressing up kit, another one of those terribly useful birthday presents!

Which of course brings my mind back to those gorgeous duck egg plates, and thinking of the food that I shall lay on them. How wonderful to sink into imaginings again.

moving update

2006-10-10T20:46:00.000+01:00

Again, I have another date for exchange. This time, and third or fourth time lucky I’m hoping, it will be tomorrow. The completion date is still set as the 20th, next Friday and a day a part of me is already dreading. I can picture the hold ups – the delays in money clearing bank accounts, parking tickets on the van when we’re clearly unloading, problems getting the bed in through the front door. This last I’ll admit is my biggest fear, I love my bed and after five and a half weeks without it I shall be chomping at the bit to curl up under my goose feather duvet and stretch out to the edges of that king size goodness. Oh glorious!

I went to visit the cats today, something I’ve not had a chance to do for nearly two weeks, and was relieved to see that they do still remember me and were only a little sulky. I had visions of walking into the room and being confronted with bemused faces and a complete lack of recognition. Instead it was purrs and chirrups and put out meows. I fussed and stroked, and cuddled until it was time to leave, promising that it would only be a week and a half until I could whisk them away to their new home, where finally they would be able to roam free outside once more.

I still have to buy a fridge/freezer, dishwasher, sofa and a vast quantity of other bits and bobs to furnish, but am reluctant to start ordering too much until I’ve moved what I have got in. Otherwise I have visions of standing in my new sitting room, entirely surrounded by stuff and completely unable to leave the flat. Some things though, I will need straight away, and plates and saucepans are one of them. Having donated or thrown out my last lot, I’m left with only a few odds and ends to furnish my new kitchen and must restock before I find myself in the dreaded “eating scrambled egg, with a fork, from a shoe” phase.

But forefront in my mind is the fact that finally, after so long, so many false starts and expectations, the date will be set, the wheels will be turning and in a matter of days those keys will be in my hand. Unfortunately, until they are I will continue to panic, and worry, plan and re-plan and generally let my imagination run away with me.

macbook joy

2006-10-06T20:09:00.000+01:00

It has arrived! My lovely shiny macbook of joy. And boy did it make my day.

Unfortunately the other exciting event of the delay has been delayed, once more. Exchanging contracts is being held up by a very slow solicitor (on the other side, I hasten to add) which although it not a great worry, is just one of those thorny irritations which won't go away. Well, until Monday anyway. Hopefully then all will be sent off and we'll be on target for completion on 20th October.

lurgy

2006-10-04T10:35:00.000+01:00

Somewhat predictably, I have succumbed to the dreaded "freshers flu". It hit sometime over night and despite a brief sojourn to work in an effort to convince myself that I wasn't ill, has left me curled into a mess on the sofa, surrounded by Kleenex Balsam tissues, honey & lemon and with a temperature causing shivers one minute and sweats the next.

I am not a happy bunny.

Still, at least I have Monty to keep me company. He's very good at curling up with me, looking up with doleful eyes, and not expecting too many strokes when the sneezing fits strike. Thank goodness for cats, I say, without them where would we be?

stormy sunday

2006-10-01T20:21:00.000+01:00

Sitting inside, curled up on the sofa with an Ian Rankin and a beautiful storm raging outside is a fabulous way to end what has been a charmingly quiet weekend. The rain is lashing down in torrents against the window panes, splashing in puddles that passing cars spray back up as they speed past. The cats occasionally wander in, look out of the window in a mixture of curiosity and fear before heading out of the room again to hide upstairs.

It is wonderfully autumnal to sit here, hair still damp from the bath, curled up with a mountain of cushions behind me and a book in hand. The season of extraordinary weather is upon us, with a tornado hitting Brighton beach first thing this morning, followed by the current thunder pounding across the sky. Its a glorious feeling, to be inside and cosy looking out on such weather. I get caught up counting the seconds between lightening and thunder bolt, wondering how far away the storm is, whether its coming closer or further away. And intermingled are the seemingly continuous sirens. Perhaps my memory plays tricks on me, but I remember there being sirens throughout every storm.

The only thing missing from this glorious evening is an open fire, although it's hardly cold enough for one. I would love to hear the crackling and the spit of sap, watch the fire flicker in the corner of my eye whilst waiting for the next strike. It is no bother though, I have a beer at hand and a large, warm, cosy, jumper; book at hand and a happy glint in my eye. Roll on thunder bolts, I say, and smile at each one.

memories that made me smile today

2006-09-28T16:20:00.000+01:00

Rabbit County
My last meal at Wagamamas
Walking through Paris streets on a warm summer evening
Dreadful cocktails on Bournemouth beach
Beautiful cocktails in Valentino's bar & arguing about why people read fiction

toasty

2006-09-28T13:35:00.000+01:00

Today is a day for sitting on a sheepskin rug, mug of homemade soup in hand, and staring into the open fire. Despite the extraordinary amount of effort it took to get up this morning, I’ve settled into one of those gloriously serene and romantic states of mind. The world is continuing around me, I occasionally look up and watch it, smiling to myself before turning back to work.

It is a day for nesting, for settling down amongst the bits and pieces in my mind and putting them all in their rightful place. I have that lovely calm feeling I get from knowing that everything I want is where it should be; that feeling you get when you finish the spring clean. Everything sparkles, surfaces are clear and you know you could reach out one hand and find anything you want at the tip of your fingers.

So in my head, in much the same way as I would do after a spring clean, I’m sitting back and putting my feet up. Basking in that fire glow and warming my toes. I pull my sleeves down and curl up on my sheepskin, nestled down and rested. I know that outside the storm is brewing, I can see the thunder clouds, but inside is warm and cosy and I am happy here.

sweet sorrow

2006-09-27T19:12:00.000+01:00

It looks likely that I will be exchanging contracts on the new flat within a matter of days. It's such a relief to have that light at the end of the tunnel, to know that moving will be within a week or two and I can finally go back to having "my own place". A new one, where I shall rip off plaster, damp proof, and lovingly redecorate. I can almost smell the paint and feel the wallpaper, but before that I will have to leave Tom's.

Although it's only been two weeks, I actually feel quite sad at the thought of leaving. I miss the cats dreadfully, and the excitement of buying my own place and finally getting that foot on the property ladder does fill me with a desire to be out at once. But I also feel quite torn, with part of me wondering how things would have been if I had have been moving in permanently.

Of course, the fact that I'm moving three minutes walk along the road helps to combat this; knowing that I could almost walk home in my bathrobe, slippers on feet and bleary-eyed to feed the cats. It has been fun, and it is a lovely house: I'm glad that I won't be leaving it completely.

partied out

2006-09-25T19:51:00.000+01:00

Finally the birthdays are over, at least for a month or so. It was a wonderful week of dining out, dashing from restaurant to restaurant, munching through delicious meal after delicious meal. We spent Tom's birthday on Friday at the Tin Drum, supping with Tom's dad and others before heading home to sip champagne and watch Spaced until our eyelids drooped.

Saturday was a busy day, catching up with parents and getting ready for the Woodland Disco, a fabulous fest of every imaginable animal, along with fairies galore. Everyone took part with relisPublishh, dancing and talking the night away, at least until costumes got to hot, face paint ran and face wash was used by plenty.

Sunday was spent, as you can imagine, recovering with a long lie-in and a Chinese take away. We curled up on the sofa together, bears and all, and relaxed in front of what can really no longer be called a television, instead the projector threw Midsomer Murders against the wall.

I'm thankful though that, as lovely as the partying was, it's now over for a couple of weeks. Worn out, it will be nice to eat at home, to spend time together and maybe even have a Sunday morning without a pounding headache. Oh joy of joys to not be rushed off feet and dashing from place to place. Instead I shall concentrate on sorting out my flat, with an exchange of contracts looking closer than it has before. Enjoy the peace, I say, before the moving starts again.

shiny

2006-09-20T10:14:00.000+01:00

Today is a good day, today I ordered my shiny new black Macbook.

Now begins the wait. Exciting as it is, it has taken far too long already - how will I possibly last two weeks?!

birthday bliss

2006-09-19T10:18:00.000+01:00

What a glorious way to spend my birthday! The morning was gentle, settling down in front of the laptop to check my emails, reading Ian Rankin and lounging in the bath.

I met Tom for lunch at Bill’s, wolfed down delicious Buck Rarebit with ham and a fried egg, deliciously yolky, which oozed into the toast. Then it was a stroll around town to pick up two new dresses for our evenings out this week. I popped into River Island for a lovely wrap around, and Velvet for a longer dress with a beautiful print for Wednesday’s trip to Blanch House.

The rest of the afternoon was spent spread out on top of my duvet, with Horace and the book that James bought me for my birthday: Mortal Engines, a fabulous story which I found unable to put down except for brief moments when making cups of Earl Grey.

Then, wearing the new dress, we drove off to Cooksbridge and The Rainbow Inn, to dine on delicious pork, chicken and lobster ravioli, steak and duck. It was wonderfully tasty, and so good to go back to the Rainbow again after too many years. We returned home for a glass of champagne before resting our weary heads and falling asleep before they hit the pillow. Bliss.

moving on

2006-09-17T19:05:00.000+01:00

It has been a busy few weeks, but I have now moved out. We took a vast quantity of unwanted belongings to the dump, filling up the car or van on numerous occasions and trailing back and forth. I have also put what little I am keeping into storage, all locked up safe and sound along the road where it shall patiently wait until I am ready to move into the new flat.

It was a long and stressful process, one which has left me covered in bruises but with fabulously strong arms. Although it was sad to leave the old house, home for so long, I have to admit to only occasional twinges when I miss it.

Yesterday I celebrated my birthday, with a meal at the Sukhothai Palace followed by much drinking, debauchery and dancing back at Rosehill. It was a fabulous way to wind down and relax, and despite my tiredness did manage to stay awake until five thirty, when I fell asleep on the sofa.

Today has, naturally, been one of rest. After my brother rose from the depths of unconsciousness just after midday, we sent him home and trotted down to the Park Crescent for a roast. Although near, it was disappointingly either burnt or cold, depending on which area of the plate we were attacking. To make up for this I decided on an afternoon of snoozing, which certainly made up for the lack of gastronomic success. Quietly nestled up on the sofa, I’m settled in for an evening of Spooks and curry and not a box to pack in sight. Glorious!

packed out

2006-09-11T16:14:00.000+01:00

I’ve now spent more time around cardboard than I have ever cared to, given myself numerous paper cuts, become smeared in news print and been covered in dust and dirt when clearing out the attic. The house is in a complete state of confusion, with boxes being a feature in every room.

However this didn’t stop me from having a house-cooling party on Saturday. The crowd gathered round to drink lots of wine and chilli beer, talk nonsense and toast the house and the last eight years in it. It was lovely, if a little sad, to sit with those people who have spent the most time there over the years, to look back over the memories and yet be safe in the knowledge that we didn’t spill nearly as much wine as we used to.

Sunday was a day off, I spent the vast majority of it asleep, catching up and letting myself wind down after another stressful week. This evening I will be back to the parcel tape and marker pen, labelling up the boxes. Tomorrow Mum & I will be ferrying things to the tip, and this will hopefully get the vast majority of useless junk out of the house, giving me that much needed light at the end of the tunnel for the end of the week. Only three more days to go and then it's all over.

moving date

2006-09-04T15:14:00.000+01:00

My moving-out date is set, 15th September, three days before my birthday. This means that I will be homeless for my birthday, a depressing thought only made bearable by the fact that I will also have a rather large sum of money, for a short while at least.

It’s exciting to have a date but it’s also rather sad, a bitter-sweet pill. I have been saying goodbye to the house for months now, and had one of those lovely solitary weekends where I shut myself away to pack and immerse myself in books. It was glorious to sit there, snuggled up on the sofa with the bears and Josephine Tey, occasionally raising my head to glance out of the window at the grey skies and rain showers.

My mind fell back to the cottage we lived in when I was young, with low square-paned windows looking out over the fields. You could sit and watch the storms brewing in the distance and yet have the warm crackling of the open fire behind you.

But there shall be no more resting for me, there will only be boxes and boxes and farewells before that limbo in between homes. It all seems to have happened so quickly and yet taken such a long time that I am left clutching at nothing but panic and lists, endless lists. I hope it won't be for long.

back on form

2006-08-31T15:27:00.000+01:00

A long soak in the bath, the calmness of making soup and an early night with an Agatha Christie certainly did the job. By the time I turned out the light I felt beautifully relaxed. This morning I woke feeling awake for once and back to my normal smiley self. What a relief!

Today is an exciting day, although I didn’t know it when I woke. Today I hear that contracts are being signed on the house, which means that at least one side of my move is going well. I shall have a completion date shortly, and so I aim to spend the weekend packing what I can. I’ve so far trawled the offices and collected a load of boxes to fill with books, clothes and all those other things I’m not going to need for the next few months. (OK, I know I’m going to need books – but not all of them. I shall have to be very firm with myself and only choose a few to take with me, and just go to the library more!)

Next week I should also hear more regarding estimates taken today on my (hopefully) new flat. It is obviously all up in the air at the moment and causing me much stress, mostly because it’s out of my hands. Me? A control freak!? Never! But there is nothing I can do but sit back, wait and cross everything it's possible to cross.

the blue funk

2006-08-30T12:48:00.000+01:00

Today is a Wind in the Willows day. I feel as if I want to be curled up on a visit to Mole’s house one dark winters eve.

“The Rat paid no heed to his [Mole] doleful self-reproaches. He was running here and there, opening doors, inspecting rooms and cupboards, and lighting lamps and candles and sticking them up everywhere. `What a capital little house this is!' he called out cheerily.”

I want to be in a capital little house, with bunks and candles, a blazing fire and a parlour. I want duvets a plenty and warm mugs of honey and lemon, home made soup and chunks of bread, still warm from the oven.

Although the weather is gloriously sunny, I feel tired and worn out and know I’ve lost the battle to hold off autumn. I’ve even gone so far as to order a new jumper, and find my thoughts turning to winter as the evenings get darker and the mornings have that inescapable chill. I would be prickly but I’m too dulled for that, and instead just sit looking morose and sorry for myself. I have promised myself an early night, and some homemade soup, and hope that this raises my mood from the doldrums. I do so hate to be glum.

acid brass

2006-08-27T15:43:00.000+01:00

Yesterday Tom and I gave up on the idea of a picnic and headed out to Bexhill on Sea and the De La Warr Pavillion to see the Jeremy Deller exhibition. We wandered around the newly renovated building, gazing out at the rain along the coast and marvelling at the "thing" out in the sea which looked rather like an oil platform but wasn't.

After a brief wander for some food and a bit of rock pooling, we headed back for Acid Brass. It started as an experiment that Jeremy Deller set up, whilst sitting in a pub and thinking of the many links between brass bands and acid house music. There was a lovely range of people there, from chaps in their dotage to children dancing about and running back and forth in front of the stage. It didn't take long before the dancing started, with a couple of groups who were determined to relive part of their misspent youth.

I don't think I've ever heard anything quite like it, it was great fun but also quite surreal.

the weekend beckons

2006-08-25T12:01:00.000+01:00

With the sunshine, my mood returns and I find myself gazing happily out of the window at the blue sky, listening for birds and dreaming of picnics by the riverbank. Tomorrow we shall head out into the countryside and find a place to spread our blanket, but beforehand I shall pick up the necessary delicacies on my way home and somehow keep myself from picking at them this evening.

It is a relief to be in such a chipper mood especially considering that yesterday brought a conversation with my surveyor, which could result in problems with the new flat. I had thought that the whole process was moving too well, positively swimmingly in fact. But until reports are made and quotes received there is nothing I can do but hold fire and try not to worry too much. It is a little frustrating, but then again not entirely unexpected. I have been repeatedly told, by numerous people, that the whole house buying process is a minefield of problem after problem and for once I paid close attention to this advice.

I shall put the whole business out of my mind for the weekend though, and delight in picnicking, and adventures into the wilds of East Sussex to see an exhibition and a concert. What better way to spend time with my lovely boy?

dinner out

2006-08-24T10:41:00.000+01:00

Last night Tom and I headed to Katharine & Rich’s for dinner. It’s only been a month or so since they moved in, and the new flat is already looking lovely and lived in, with the vast majority repainted. Sam has a larger room, which means he actually has space to play with his toys and although the sitting room is narrow and galley-like, there is actually more room for their dining table than at their previous flat.

I got to spend some time with my lovely godson, who is coming on leaps and bounds but was feeling a little grizzly due to the terrible weather. He is adorable, and cuddled up to watch the teletubbies with me for a short while.

Katharine cooked a lovely chicken tikka massala, washed down with liberal amounts of wine, poppadums, nans and chutneys that left us feeling distinctly well fed. A sticky toffee pudding followed, which I unfortunately had to pass up due to the fullness of my belly.

We talked autism and politics, privatisation and the Royal Mail, generally putting the world to rights. But home time eventually came, and Tom and I strolled out into the dark night to get soaked to the bone in yet another torrential rain shower. It is probably time I invested in an umbrella; there is after all a big difference between being optimistic and just plain damp.

come back summer...

2006-08-23T10:48:00.001+01:00

I’m trying desperately hard to hold onto the thought that it is still summer, that autumn hasn’t yet started and that all this rain and gloom is simply a bad patch of weather that will soon pass and reveal lovely sunshine like July.

Despite the aid of chocolate biscuits, I can feel this glimmer of hope quietly disappearing. Surely summer can’t be over? Surely that can’t be it? It’s only August – and only half way through August at that.

Of course a part of me quite likes autumn, if only because it provides another season in which I can wear jumpers. Jumpers and me get on. They’re warm, cosy and soft. I’ve stolen a few in my years too, normally from boys. There is something even better about boys jumpers, and stolen ones better still.

As much as I love jumpers, and boots, which also remind me of autumn and kicking up piles of red leaves, it’s just not time for it yet. There is still warm weather to be enjoyed, evenings basking in the slowly cooling light, days on the beach or driving through the glorious green countryside. And most importantly, I still haven’t had a picnic this year. It simply can’t be over until I’ve had a picnic!

school photo

2006-08-21T11:40:00.001+01:00

Every year a group of us get together to document the past year with a photo, an event we fondly call the “school photo” simply because it is similar to those posed affairs where you had to stand on metal staging for hours on end, staring into the sun and sweltering in blazers, ties and the like.

Yesterday afternoon I made my way, via Katharine’s, to Preston Park and our usual meeting place on the rockery. Of course, just as we reached the park the heavens opened and torrential rain fell out of the sky, soaking us to the bone. We leapt from cover to cover, and dashed across the bare grass when there was none until finally meeting up with James and heading for the cover of the café.

The usual tomfoolery followed, with cups of tea a plenty and much brushing of damp hair. We sat about waiting for the stragglers to catch up, before Kate; our photographer, ordered us about like a true professional. We sat obediently, before leaping up and down stairs, dashing from left to right and generally making artistic fools of ourselves.

Whilst some staggered off to the pub, braving the prospect of more rain, I tramped my soggy and cold self home for a much needed bath and the promise of warm, dry clothes. However much I love the romance of summer rainstorms, there does need to be a deliciously warm bath at the end or else I fear the dreaded summer cold.

hols

2006-08-19T12:25:00.000+01:00

It has been a glorious week off but a part of me can't help but be a little sad that it's nearly over. We spent a relaxed weekend, with a drink on Sunday afternoon to celebrate Glasnost's birthday, before settling into the seemingly endless unplanned days.

Tuesday became a busy day with my interview in the morning, followed by lunch at Havana's and a brief meeting with my solicitor. Fortunately though we still had time to lounge around on the beach, gazing up at the bright blue sky, or lying on a pile of cushions on the decking, absorbed in our books.

We met with Donovan & Sam on Tuesday evening and headed out for a night of indie at Audio, much dancing ensued and Wednesday was therefore a day of relaxing and hiding away from the light.

Yesterday we headed up for London, abandoning our Plan A of Kew Gardens for Plan B and headed to the Science Museum and the Natural History Museum. I saw my first IMAX film, a beautiful piece of film about deep sea creatures, wandered around amongst dinosaurs, fossils and stepped through a fake earthquake. We then headed out to the Nordic Bar off Oxford Street for a fabulous cocktail before heading to the much loved Ping Pong for steamed parcels of deliciousness.

It has been so nice to relax and unwind for a week, especially with the previous week being so stressful. Although the weather hasn't been it's best, we've had a good mix of getting out to do stuff, and staying in curled up hiding from the rain. Books have been read, films have been watched, take away has been eaten and culture has been absorbed. With the remainder of my holiday likely to be taken up with moving, its been lovely to have had such a week to enjoy.

offer accepted

2006-08-10T15:17:00.000+01:00

My offer has been accepted. And I have a job interview.

My day has suddenly got a lot more exciting!

waiting game

2006-08-10T09:34:00.000+01:00

I've found a flat, made an offer and am now sitting, wracked with nerves whilst I wait to hear if it's been accepted. Calmer than yesterday evening, I still find myself unable to think of anything other than when the phone will ring. Every third glance is to the mobile on my desk, I occasionally check it to make sure it's on and panic that if I leave it for a second I'll miss it ringing.

I feel completely irrational, emotional and ever so slightly insane. But now that I've got over my initial abject fear, I'm actually starting to enjoy this. Yes, it's terrifying and bewildering but it's also exciting. It's edge of the seat stuff!

The only thing that could make this better is for my boy to come home, but for that I will have to wait until Saturday. I just hope that the phone call doesn't take that long.

peaks and troughs

2006-08-08T09:53:00.000+01:00

The flat hunting has been more difficult than expected this past weekend. On Saturday I saw a flat that, on first viewing was promising but on second became quite clear would not be suitable. It was a shame; the sitting room was lovely and light for a basement, with patio doors that led out onto a lovely garden. But there were too many “bad points” which out-weighed the good ones, meaning that I decided in the end not to make an offer.

I found this in itself depressing enough, but spent the rest of the day trawling estate agents and finding that there simply is nothing on the market at the moment that fits my needs. Tired and hot, by this time I was beginning to feel not only depressed but despairing of ever finding a flat at all.

Fortunately a late afternoon nap soon meant that I was feeling more myself, as did booking in a viewing for this evening. Finally I started to feel that there was an end in sight.

I spent a much more relaxed Sunday in the countryside, celebrating Dad’s birthday with a BBQ in the dappled sunshine. It was a lovely way to spend the day, and a welcome break from Brighton. We bickered and teased, ate steaks followed by home made strawberry ice-cream and sipped on Pimms or red wine. And it was with a peaceful heart that I set off home, top down on the car, through the orange-turning sunshine.

With the start of the week, it’s back to the grindstone and back on the phone to agents. I suspect that I will be spending a considerable amount of my time on the other end of a line, desperately trying to track down that elusive flat, but with hopefully a cheerier disposition than of late.

and now the fun starts

2006-08-03T16:39:00.000+01:00

This afternoon we accepted an offer on the house. So now the whole wheel is in motion, appointments with IFA's, viewings, offers of my own to make...

I feel this incredible excitement and also this deep terror. Here I am, about to embark on one of life's biggest adventures and all I can think of is wallpaper. Still, it's good to know the creative part of my brain is enjoying this!

Alexander's Feast

2006-08-02T11:13:00.000+01:00

Dad and I trotted up to London yesterday to spend the day being cultured. We started with the Tate Modern, gorging ourselves on Mattise, Dali and other surrealists before having lunch whilst admiring the fabulous view across the Millenium Bridge. We next took a trip on the Eye, which despite the cloud cover gave us lovely views across London. Ever since going on it for the first time last year, I've been dying to go in the evening. I'm sure looking down on all those twinkling lights must be a beautiful sight.

By now feeling a little tired, we headed for a quiet meander through the V&A, taking in some original 60's art work that left Dad in a state of smiling nostalgia, harking back to his school days and playing tennis on the croquet lawn (surely that was a disgraceful thing to do?)

Finally we headed off for the Royal Albert Hall to hear Mozart's rearrangement of Handel's Alexander's Feast. The chorus were enchanting, but unfortunately we sat to the side and didn't get the best acoustics. It's the longest choral piece I've heard, and the only piece with two harpicords.

We caught the fast train back to Brighton to get me home to rest my tired and achey feet. A tiring but definitely worthwhile day.

of morris dancing... and other things

2006-07-31T10:35:00.000+01:00

Friday night was a combination of the weird and wonderful in terms of music, with the added frisson of tequila and toilet roll. Tom, Dan, Kerry and myself headed along to the Komedia to see Victoria Hume play. As mentioned in a previous post, Vic has a superb voice and it was interesting to hear them play as a band, rather than Vic alone and acoustic. I’m hoping that she gets more gigs down in Brighton, as I’d love to hear more of her.

Vic was followed by Circulus, whom Steve found (perhaps due to the tequila, although he did buy the album) worthy of engaging in Morris dancing with toilet rolls. I’m amazed that he managed to get a few unsuspecting audience members to join in, if only for a short and for them I’d imagine, confused time. Despite being urged to join in, I felt it my place to simply document the procedures, so see photos here.

As is often the case when tequila is involved, the night proceeded to continue until the small hours, with further alcohol and Tom & Dan doing their obligatory fighting. Injuries followed, as they are wont to do, and Deep Heat has been applied.

This rather long and debauched evening, along with the recent full diary, led me to spend a quiet and restful Saturday evening at home with the cats. Feeling somewhat neglected recently, they enjoyed the copious amounts of fussing they received in a heart warming fashion, and curled up beside me as I nodded off. It would have been a perfect nights sleep if I hadn’t ruined it by waking inexplicably at 2:40am and found it nigh-on impossible to get back to sleep for a good hour or so. Fortunately though, a lie in on Sunday is obligatory and a slow start to the day, with a breakfast of scrambled egg and bacon and freshly brewed coffee followed by Phillip Pullman for the afternoon, and curry for dinner, meant that I once again feel human and ready to face the week.

changes afoot

2006-07-28T11:11:00.000+01:00

Over the past few weeks I have come to a decision about where to go next. It’s been a tricky decision to make with all the other changes going on (well, the prospect of imminent mortgage). As I recently posted, I’ve been feeling restless and I’ve worked out what it is: I need to change my career.

I only ever got into doing admin as a stop gap between school and university, but with that being nine years ago now it has become far more than a stop gap and more of a weight that I have felt unable to unhook myself from.

As the recent months have gone by, I’ve become more and more aware of the fact that I am unfulfilled in this area of my life. I don’t feel tested, or that I’m putting my skills to their best uses. I don’t want to end up stuck here, resenting that I never made that leap and drudging through each day. So I’ve made up my mind, changes are afoot I shall be making a leap. I just hope I don’t land awkwardly.

amoureux

2006-07-24T13:56:00.000+01:00

I’m in love. I’m in love with Paris, with a weekend that despite the constant heat, the blisters and the aching legs, was filled with beauty and delight.

At first, with those tentative steps out of the Gard du Nord into the rows of restaurants and sex shops, I felt a little disappointed. I was tired, with two hours sleep and a snooze on the train, and I needed lunch. We walked along, heavy bags on our backs with the blazing sun beating down until we gave up, stopping at a small brasserie and ordering salad in pigin-french, words sticking and refusing to form.

The metro only confused me, I stood about wondering which direction, which line, and under ground was so much hotter. But then suddenly we were up above ground again, on the left bank and on the road we needed. A boulevard lined with trees and people, and suddenly behind me was the river, and the Louvre, and Notre Dame and then I felt it.

We spent the afternoon walking along the left bank, dog-tired but determined to make it from Notre Dame to the Jardin des Plantes. We drank water by the gallon and trudged through back streets and squares where people sat in the sun, or basked below the cool shade of trees. We had time to sleep before we headed out for dinner, at one of the only restaurants in the area that wasn’t Japanese. The food was simple but delicious and set us up for the succession of mohito’s we drank at a bar round the corner.

On Saturday morning I felt it again as we walked through the entrance to the Palais de Louvre and stood, necks craned to take it all in. It bowled me over, the size and the beauty; it struck me dumb. But on we went, through the Jardin des Tuileries and up the Champs Elysees to the Arc d’Triomphe. Then down towards the river again and the Eiffel Tower. The queues were too long to spend time in, and so we missed the journey to the top and views over Paris. Instead we walked on, along the Quai D’Orsay to take in the Musee D’Orsay before heading back to change for dinner.

As the sun began to sink on yet another beautiful day, we climbed aboard and sailed gently up and down the Seine, delighting in four courses and the cool breeze that rushed in on either side of the boat. The views were wonderful, from the rows of tents on the riverside to the Eiffel Tower, lit up in sparkling lights and bathing all with the searchlight. We left feeling tired but contented, to stroll along the streets of Saint-Germain in the cool darkness.

Now home again I feel a tug for Paris, a longing for all the things we didn’t get to see, but I know that it was a glorious weekend, and one I shall not forget.

the hunt is on

2006-07-12T09:50:00.000+01:00

The flat hunting has started; I’ve seen three so far this week with another lined up for tomorrow. Walking around them is a rather new experience; I’m being allowed to be nosey. I can peer at cracks in the walls, check for damp and inspect kitchen units and bathrooms with more care that the average visitor. I can ask pointed questions about the area or the neighbours, can remark on redecorating or “ripping that out”.

At first it seemed almost rude, to be walking around someone’s home and mentally taking the place apart. It has been made easier by the fact that so far it is always estate agents who have taken me round, and never the homeowner or tenant. I could imagine that my comments on “the obvious damp problem in the bathroom” and “why on earth did they paint the kitchen dark red?” would be somewhat curtailed if faced with the vendor.

Of the three seen so far, one was a definite “no” with a garden you would need crampons to climb. One was in nice condition, with a new kitchen and a garden which showed lots of potential, but it will be sold by now and to be honest, it had a little too much done for my liking. I would like somewhere that needs more work. The third flat was much more exciting, showing lots of promise and with character, but again there is an issue with the garden.

I am not holding out for a perfect flat but for something with potential, and the selection I’ve seen so far has been interesting. It is great to finally be at the stage where I can go and see property, and when people are coming to see the house. Although with this new rush of energy I realise that I will miss the old house, if only a little, because it has been such a solid home to me and so many of my friends for so long. I only get glimpses of this though, because the rest of me is far more excited to be moving!

flitting

2006-07-07T10:19:00.000+01:00

Since Tom's return from Roskilde on Monday the week has flown by in a concoction of busyness or sleepiness. I suspect the term "burning the candle at both ends" would not quite cover it. In fact I think we got all the candles we could find and set light to them, indeed at many times during the week my brain has felt like a puddle of warm wax.

We had a lovely adventure up to Regents Park Open Air Theatre on Wednesday evening, to watch The Taming of The Shrew. Having missed our train by about 30 seconds, we unfortunately couldn't sup on parcels of deliciousness at Ping Pong. We made up for it with Bratwurst and bubbly followed by chocolate truffle cake, whilst we basked in the warmth of the evening, grateful that it didn't rain after all.

Yesterday evening was Pirate evening, and after meeting at the Fortune of War, we all piled in to the cinema, tricorns aplenty, to "yarrrrr" at Cap'n Jack Sparrow. I am wondering if Joh, Ed and James will be organising another of the fabled "Pirate Nights", but have heard no whispers yet. I quite fancy another swashbuckling adventure, but not today, for today is Katharine's birthday party and I'm not sure she'd appreciate it!

softly sunday

2006-07-03T11:12:00.000+01:00

Having spent Saturday morning trawling estate agents (very exciting) and Saturday afternoon helping Katharine & Rich move (not quite as exciting, but somehow rewarding), it was a relief to put the top down on the car and speed off into the countryside yesterday for my brothers birthday barbeque.

It was such a beautiful morning, and like me, my car loves the sunshine. I sped along the A27 on nearly clear roads, turning off through the Cuilfail tunnel and Ringmer and taking the longer route to Mum & Dad's. The engine purred along the country roads, wind swept my hair and I couldn't help but smile.

My little brother turned twenty-four, and celebrated with his friends on Saturday night. Feeling slightly the worse for wear, he was still up and about (just) in time for lunch. I turned burgers and sausages whilst the family drank Pimms. The garden, shaded now by trees that have grown since I lived there, was lovely and dappled; keeping the worst of the midday heat at bay.

We talked for hours, and picked at salads, strawberries and cherries in kirsch and soft French and Italian cheeses. It was a perfect afternoon in quiet countryside, and a lovely cooler drive back to Brighton, the evening sunshine beating on my sunsoaked skin

decisions

2006-06-30T11:11:00.000+01:00

I’m feeling restless. My mind doesn’t stay on one topic for long, I stand up and walk around the office, I break off mid conversation and start a new one. I flick from thought to thought without finishing any. It’s leaving me feeling frustrated and twitchy.

I would like to be able to say “I long to…” and whatever it would be, would fill me with calm and peace. But I don’t know what I long to do. It changes from minute to minute, hour to hour and moves so fast I cannot focus.

I feel like a ball of tightly bound energy. Every nerve ending is electric, ready to jump at the slightest provocation. There are butterflies in my stomach and tingling in my fingertips. I have spent the week flitting between thoughts, what I want to do next, what I want to read, what I want to watch, where I want to sit, or to eat, or to drink. I cannot settle on any decision without an almost instantaneous opposite popping up in my head.

At a time when a large proportion of the stable things in my life are changing, it is ironic that I look for more to change. Instead of sitting back and dealing with what I already have to face, I find myself looking for more “improvements” to make. It’s almost like “buy one, get one free”: if I’m doing this now, I might as well get this and this out of the way at the same time. And so I find myself re-evaluating everything, looking at what I want to be different and trying to tackle it all at once.

However I have made no decisions, and this leaves me feeling adrift, restless and frustrated. Perhaps it’s time to take a break and come back to “me” with fresh eyes.

on sam

2006-06-29T08:54:00.000+01:00

A couple of weeks ago I spent an afternoon with Katharine and my godson Sam, who had just been diagnosed as autistic. We caught up on recent events and wandered to Preston Park to gossip with a beer, enjoy the sunshine and let Sam have a run about. It was only a brief stay, but one which opened my eyes to one of the many difficulties that Katharine, Rich and Sam face.

Sam loves gates, and doors, and anything else that opens and closes. Whilst sitting in his pushchair on trips to the library, he will watch the automatic doors open and close. This causes great excitement, his arms flap, his hands clasp and his legs wiggle in joy.

He also loves to open and close the gate that leads to the play area in the park. Unlike other small boys, the swings and slide hold no interest for him. He only has eyes for the gate, which he opens and watches with glee as it bangs closed.

Unfortunately the problem arises when other people want to use this gate, and quite naturally, don't understand why the lovely blue-eyed boy is trying to push them out of the way, or slowly crumbling into tears, or worse still, screaming in obvious distress. Most people move through the gate, look bemused and carry on, forgetting the incident within seconds. But there are the odd one or two who simply want to stand it front of it, or lean against it.

It is an effort to explain why it would be appreciated if they could move, they looked confused and in the end there is the inevitable disclosure of Sam's autism. It is traumatic for all, especially if people still don't understand. Sam, who doesn't either, begins to cry and then to scream.

These little things, a simple trip to the park, are in fact not simple at all. Instead a battle to be fought, to communicate that Sam simply wants to open and close the gate. There will be many more battles as Sam grows up, but I'm proud to know that Katharine and Rich will continue to fight them, whether big or small, with the same love and devotion for Sam. He is, after all, the best godson in the world.

breather

2006-06-27T12:03:00.000+01:00

The results are out, the final year students have been and gone, finishing their three years at University with, on most accounts, the degree they expected. It was a good week, a mixture of excitement and hard work that kept our adrenaline up until the end, when we all collapsed exhausted but happy to have been a part of it.

Now we have a breather, of sorts, whilst the marks for our second year students come in. Once that is done we go through the whole process again, although without the same excitement. By the middle of July it will all be over for another year.

After spending Friday afternoon napping in recovering, and a quiet evening regaining my brain, on Saturday it was back to work. Although this time it was work on the house. Mum, Dad & I built new banisters for the steps in the garden, one of the final bits of work needing to be done before the house goes on the market. Today Mum is going about visiting estate agents and the scaffolding that has been cutting out all the light into my house will finally be removed.

In a way I feel as if I've just jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. Last week is the most stressful week of the year at work, and now starts the most stressful time at home. Although I would love the move to go smoothly, I am fully aware that happens very rarely. There will be problems, there will be issues that need to be ironed out, and there will be inevitable delays. I just hope that there aren't too many.

It is exciting though, to be on the edge of another adventure. There have been so many adventures recently, but I'm not complaining. A good adventure stirs the soul, and that is a fabulous feeling.

long grass

2006-06-16T14:59:00.000+01:00

Today is a day for lying around in tall grasses on picnic blankets. I want to sip champagne and nibble sun-warmed strawberries, leaving sticky fingers to wipe. I want to lie in the grass so all I can see is the blue sky above me and the tops of the grasses, waving in the breeze.

I'll never forget spending one spring under the daffodils. I was small enough that I could lie amongst them and look up under the bright yellow trumpets. They would fill my vision, I'd watch bees fly from flower to flower and time didn't seem to pass at all. I was so upset when, a year later, I was too big to fit under the daffodils. I'd grown so much that I could only flatten them.

I remember making circles of flattened grass on the Downs, little islands to sit in hidden from view. And rolling down the hills, bump after bump, until I lay panting at the bottom, covered in bits of grass and twig and giggling.

Tomorrow I think I'll go in search of tall grasses, I'll tumble down hills until I'm covered in bruises and come home giggling. But first I must sort out my passport, for as lovely as tall grasses are, Paris is beckoning.

rollercoaster

2006-06-15T11:59:00.000+01:00

And so it begins, the busiest working week of the year. This morning has been a wonderful rush of questions, with paper flying from printers and copiers, people dashing from office to office, urgent phone calls and emails and everywhere there are marks.

It is my favourite time of year, I love the panic and the urgency, the constant deadlines and hurried meetings, but only because it lasts for a comparatively short time. If life was like this every day I would have burnt out rather quickly a while ago.

Most of all I love the day of the classification meeting. I rush from printer to computer, meeting to meeting, taking endless phone calls and making copious notes. Then there is the quiet of the classification, before the most nerve racking part of the whole process - where I write the pass list. It gets checked, and checked, and checked again, before I walk out into the sunshine, mafia style flanked by my assistants, list in hand. The mass of students before me supercharge the air with emotions, those few minutes pass in slow motion.

Nothing beats the shouts, the grins, the smiles and hugs and kisses, those gloriously happy faces. It fills your heart and all the stresses and the strains of the previous week wash away. Those smiles, they more than make it worth the effort.

bournemouth bound

2006-06-12T12:19:00.000+01:00

Although more solid looking than Brighton's piers, Bournemouth pier doesn't have quite the same beauty. I decided this whilst sitting on the deck of West Beach restaurant, glass of wine in hand and gazing out across the glorious sandy beach and blue sea on Saturday evening. It was the perfect place to be sitting, sunshine beating down on my burnt nose and forehead, whilst I looked over the menu.

In the end I decided on white mushroom soup to start, followed by halibut cooked in a red wine sauce with mash and asparagus. By this time we had moved in from the deck to get away from the sudden and raucous chants of those inescapable football fans; drenched in Stella and swaying.

The food was delicious and made the perfect stop gap between Monkey World and the Pier Theatre. I suspect, however, that our later plan of cocktails at Hot Rocks was a mistake. Sickly and far too sweet, they cloyed to our tastebuds like toffee to teeth. Of course, that didn't stop us from having a second, just to make sure they didn't improve with time. Again, a mistake. They most definitely did not. But a small price to pay for such a splendid day.

distraction

2006-06-08T12:29:00.000+01:00

The news that the assessment boycott has been suspended whilst members of the UCU vote on the pay deal means that my workload is now at full tilt, exam scripts piling up left, right and centre and marks flying in at rapid rates. Despite this sudden influx I find myself severely distracted this week, something not helped by the bug I seem to have picked up.

I spent yesterday curled up in a small and sorry state, trying hard to swallow orange juice and all things good, whilst my throat burnt as if I had swallowed acid. I am, even now, dosed up on aspirin, sucking on plums and guzzling down vitamin-c laden drink to keep the germs at bay. But I know that it is not the germs that are distracting me.

Out of my office window the sky is a perfect duck egg blue. The sky light dapples through the leaves, which gently wave in the breeze; dancing on the end of their supple branches. There is that glorious smell of cut grass, the distant hum of conversation and the occasional lobster-red shoulders of sun worshippers. Of course, as lovely as it is to finally have summer here, it isn't that which is distracting me.

I know what it is that makes me smile through the day, what makes my heart sing and my spine tingle with excitement. And I know that, in my heart of hearts, I don't really mind being distracted at all because, you see, it's wonderful to be me; I am quite ridiculously happy.

brighton frocks

2006-06-05T13:15:00.000+01:00

On Saturday, Katharine and I downed glasses of white wine and headed out, in true Ab Fab style, to the Brighton Frocks Show at the Concorde. Despite having a 7pm start on the ticket, we found the place remarkably empty when we arrived, and having refilled our glasses a number of times, easily managed to get a front row spot overlooking the catwalk.

Just over an hour, and much wine later, the show started. An array of Brighton based designers showing off their new creations, with the majority being exciting designs. I was greatly impressed by the fabulously frilly knickers of Ophelia Fancy, who brought ballet and tap dancers to the catwalk. Fetique put on a fabulous show, with the most uncomfortable pair of shoes I've ever seen and a lovely blonde writhing for the cameras.

Two hours passed remarkably quickly, as we were shown a wide range of designs to suit any taste. At the introduction it was mentioned that within two years, Brighton Frocks hope to run a Brighton Fashion Weekend. With so many exciting designers I can see this as a possibility, and look forward to next year.

We finished off the evening with dinner at Zafferelli's and, naturally, another bottle of wine. After all, these things have to be done properly!

moth to the flame

2006-05-31T08:21:00.000+01:00

Last night Tom and I went to see his aunt sing. We caught up with the lovely Katharine and Rich, that charming chap James and Evil Pete, who is obviously not evil at all. Vic normally sings with a band, but last night went acoustic with only Chris on keyboard. She sings beautifully, making goosebumps rise on my arms and my spine tingle. With only time for two songs it was difficult to get an idea of just how good she is, but Moth are playing the Komedia on 28th July and I fully intend to be there.

We headed off before the end of the evening to fill our empty stomachs at Wagamama. It was almost eerie, sitting there with only two other people and the whole restaurant in comparative silence. But observing my surroundings was shortlived, as talk came round to the precipice we find ourselves standing on. There are times when I can hear the pebbles rush down the sides, gathering pace and clicking against each other. The world is a whirl of excitement. I can feel it as I look over the edge, and know that any minute I shall start to slip and slide and rush down with the pebbles, over the edge and onto the next adventure, onto a different ground.

It was no wonder that I woke early, walked along the quiet streets with blue sky and warm sun on my back, smiling up in wonder. Today I will find beauty in unexpected places, today I will find each smile makes my fingers tingle, my spine shiver. But it won't just be today. I think this adventure is here to stay.

six days of relaxation

2006-05-30T09:16:00.000+01:00

Chelsea was great! We were lucky with the weather and managed to avoid the two major rain showers by either eating lunch or hiding away in the large marquee, wandering amongst the displays. I found some amazing mirrored sculptures, beautiful hanging seats and found myself inspired by the gardens. It was so interesting to see the designs and planting up close, to see what effects they had on people, how they impressed or disappointed.

After a glorious day exploring the gardens, plants and stopping for a drink in Covent Garden, Mum and I dropped in on Ping Pong, as recommended by Tom and Sprink. Delicious little dumplings of steamed goodness, and a bottle of red between us, filled us and let us rest our aching feet before catching the train home to Brighton.

Friday was probably one of the best evenings I've had. If I said that the food at the Seven Dials Restaurant was delicious and the company fantastic, it wouldn't go anywhere near explaining the evening. And so I shall stop there.

The rest of the weekend passed in a relaxed mismash of wanders to the marina for the Big Splash, catching up on some friends, watching X-Men 3 and numerous glasses of wine. I feel rested and comfortable and supremely happy. Long may it continue.

last day

2006-05-23T08:32:00.000+01:00

Finally a few rays of sunshine this morning, on my last day at work before a six day break. After the past few weeks, having some time off is a dream. I envisage lie-in's, breakfast at Bill's, and glorious sunshine. However, I know the sun won't shine for long.

Tomorrow I'm off to Chelsea, and I plan to take my wellies. I have visions of ploughing through Glastonbury-style mud slides, of feeling continuously damp and cold and shivery. But also I'm longing to see the gardens, to wander among the flowers and take in all those glorious scents.

For the rest of the break I have much to look forward to, meals out, a picnic, a barbecue (I'm noticing a food-related theme here). I shall read books, relax and take long, hot baths. I don't want too many plans, I want to be free to jump up and drive out to the countryside if the rain stops, or stalk down to the beach and watch the waves crash. And only 8 more hours until I can escape.

Lewes

2006-05-18T11:14:00.000+01:00

Yesterday evening Mr "I told you it wasn't along here" Burt and myself made a short train journey to Lewes, to listen to readings from Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf with music from a solo cello at Southover Grange. It would prove to be an interesting evening, but not for the reasons I expected. It began with the cellist, who was completely unaware of who the readings would be from and whilst fluffing his way through an introduction of "Peter Sackville-West", promptly began to make his cello sound like a strangled cat.

It has been suggested to me that the cellist was in fact a fake. The real cellist had been murdered by his identical twin brother earlier on in the day, and as his disappearance would be noticed if he didn't perform that evening, the evil twin brother decided that he would step boldly into the dead mans shoes and brave the cello.

The interval came, and still stifling giggles, we exited, looks of amazement on our faces. I don't think I've ever had to leave a performance half way through before, and it was with relief that we turned the corner and let our laughter burst forth.

To aid recovery, we dropped in on Ollie at the Brewers Arms before heading back to Brighton, safe in the knowledge that culture is not necessarily always a good thing.

shift up a gear

2006-05-17T14:23:00.000+01:00

Tomorrow the scaffolding will arrive. Suddenly flat hunting seems far closer. For a while there I had been drifting, forgetting about flats, about leasehold, freehold and surveying. I had forgotten to remember to start collecting boxes, to make lists of things to keep and things to throw away. After a brief phone call last night it all rushed back to me, and there it is, real again in front of me.

The outside of the house is going to be painted a soft light green, which those small areas already coated show, will be easy on the eye but also give much needed colour. From tomorrow this painting can start at the back of the house, before moving out to the front once the scaffolders have permission from the council to use the pavement. The party walls will be worked on, my bedroom repainted and then the work is complete.

It fills me with excitement and has caught me unawares whilst I wasn't paying attention. Next week I must use one of my days off to trawl estate agents, putting my name on lists and start to anxiously wait for particulars to fall through the letterbox. I have this awful feeling that now I'm a grown up.