owned_by_a_cat | Entries tagged with rl

Hubby called to ask if I'd heard Brian Clemens had died. And while you most likely get a blank look if you ask me who Kim Kardashian is, it took me a mere second to recall the name of a man who wrote TV scripts for a living. Back in the 1970s and 80s, when I was still locked away behind the Iron Curtain. And yet, I can quote many of the lines he penned.
That says something.
RIP Brian Clemens.
And thank you.

I'm usually not too keen to revisit places where I've lived. Some things are best left dead and some memories are too precious to pollute them with images of change. Sheffield, where we lived for a couple of years when we were first married is one such place. We were skint, we didn't know what would happen, we were only just starting out, but we had fun... So even though we loved many places in the Peak District, and talked about them frequently and fondly, we haven't been back that way in 18 years.

Then last year, I decided that Steve needed a chance to drive a steam train. The closest location to us where that's possible is Wirkworth and since it seemed a waste to just rush up there and back for the day, we decided to book a cottage for a week and reacquaint ourselves with places we used to love and know, some of my absolute favourites - Bakewell and Castleton (top pic) and Stannage Edge (middle pic) - amongst them.

And it was great.

Yes, some things change while others stay very much the way they've always been, but I'm still very glad we went. It was busier in some places, yes. But our old home looked just as gorgeous as it used to. My favourite place to sit, read and write is still very much there and just as drafty as it used to be. And the views haven't changed. Not there, at any rate.

The weather played ball. And despite my questionable state of fitness, we got in a few great walks around Mam Tor and Monsal Head and Ladybower Reservoir. We went and explored a few places that we couldn't afford to go see back then and found a couple of great pubs for lunch. We stumbled into fields of wild garlic - and took stacks of it home for dinner. We enjoyed real Bakewell Pudding and Two Hoots ale - not together, I hasten to add.

As an extra bonus, the muse gets all excited when I'm out walking and I managed to turn out a couple thousand words of Job Hunt and a couple of shorts. Especially after we happened across a couple of four-legged KenShuu fans. So, Derbyshire... what's not to like?

Sore butt and supremely sore shoulders after yesterday's exertions.
Still, the sun was shining this morning, which made a really nice change. The wind had picked up, but it had shifted from a cold NE to a SW and it felt much much warmer, so we added another 8 miles to the tandem tally, sore butt be damned.
Babysteps compared to the 30-40 miles I want to be able to do comfortably, but when I caught myself grovelling uphill, into a head wind, and gasping for breath I realised that babysteps are all I'm fit for right now.

I'm sure I was in better shape on January 1st... but then England caught a prolonged bout of winter and I caught a prolonged bout of lazy and I'm paying for it now.
So what's next? Writing, gardening, gym, work or cooking lunch?

First tandem ride since the beginning of January. Colder than I'd like - double gloves, socks, tops and earmuffs since I can't abide hats - but at least it was dry and we even got something approaching sunshine at one point.
Just rode to the post office and back - 10 miles in a sedate 40mins, but it was a start.
Strangely enough, my elbows hurt more than my butt when we got back. But red wine makes a good anaesthetic.

The snow's gone, the sun was shining for the first time in forever and despite having picked up a bit of a sniffle last week I was desperate to be outside. So we went for 4.5 mile walk - in a long loop around the village - to see how everything had coped with the snow.

And now, back home and lunch made and eaten, I have only two things to occupy my afternoon: ironing and fiction.
Life is decidedly good.

When you write a half-way successful website, people eventually start giving you things:

their considered opinion about what you're doing wrong
treatises on how they would do it so much better if only they had the time
thank-you notes and pats on the back when you most need and least expect them
books and music to review and promote
chances to meet (albeit virtually) the most amazing businesses and the people behind them

and items that don't even occur to you to ask for. I was visiting a client last week, loaded down like a camel with laptop, notebook, briefcase etc. and bemoaned the fact that I hadn't thought to slip the camera into my overflowing bag since it was a wonderfully frosty day and the trees were amazing.

Then, as I was packing my stuff away ready to leave, one of my client's employees offered me this. Taken that morning, before I was even out of the house. Even if I'd brought the camera, I couldn't have caught it the sunrise.

Writing a half-way successful website is unexpectedly rewarding...

English weather is a byword, of course, but so is English weather forecasting.
In October 1987, southern England woke to widespread devastation after a famous weather forecast that declared: There will be no hurricane in Britain tonight.
Wrong!

This time, they're playing it safe. If I believe what I read, we will be buried in snow tomorrow morning. And it will snow every day between now and Tuesday. The white stuff started coming down about an hour ago... and right now it looks cute. But I rather wish I'd paid attention to the forecast a bit earlier, because I'm for once having my shopping delivered tomorrow lunchtime and there's not a single bottle of wine in the house.

Serves me right for being so pleased about not having any appointments today...

The car is back in working order and life is returning to normal. I'm not one for public displays of ... anything, really,... but blowing off a bit of steam on here worked in a way I never expected it to ... and your comments made me smile and kept me sane - thank you!

The last two days just highlight the importance of reliable transport when living in a small village. Especially in winter.

They highlight the importance of communication even more, since what most stuck in my craw wasn't that the car was broken and they had trouble fixing it. What riled me was the fact that I had no idea what was happening beyond the mechanic making one promise after another - when I finally managed to get hold of him - only to break it again.

I think I could have coped better if they'd rang mid-afternoon saying "sorry, the parts we got in were the wrong ones. We need to send them back and won't get the right bits until tomorrow." Instead, I was waiting for a call that didn't come until it was well past dark, tracked the mechanic down two hours later while he was in hospital with his daughter... only to do the whole thing again the following morning AND the following evening. It shouldn't be so difficult, especially as most of us are surgically attached to mobiles these days.

Well, never mind. It's done. Let's focus on something positive, like the dusting of snow and flurry of white outside the window. Being England, it's not likely to last long. And I'd really like to get some writing done...

I'm hanging on the cliff-edge of a magnificent migraine and feel like hitting the ceiling. And all because I was being 'nice'.
The car's been making funny noises for a week and on Tuesday we took it to a garage where my husband's guess of 'alternator and/or water pump' was confirmed.

We had started looking for a replacement car, but I didn't want the stress of having to spend that much money in a rush, so we decided to have it fixed, though I found it a bit strange that the mechanic didn't take any notes, names, phone numbers... First mistake.

When I dropped the car off this morning, the mechanic we spoke to on Tuesday wasn't there yet. Nobody else seemed to know about the booking, what it was for and what price we'd agreed. Since I'd arranged to meet a client in a nice warm coffee shop in town I left the car with them.... Second mistake.

The meeting ran late, so I came back after 3.5 hours, fully expecting my car to be fixed. Instead, it sat high up on a ramp with half its entrails hanging out. The spare parts were on order, expected by 3pm, and the car was promised back in working order by 5pm. When I wondered what I could do with myself in a small town with nowhere to go - except to haunt wifi equipped coffee shops one after the other - the owner very kindly offered to drive me home and pick me up later to get the car. At that point, I was almost placated and agreed... Third mistake.

It's now after 7pm. No car. Nobody at the garage answering the phone. Spoke to the owner just after five when he told me that someone was working on the car, but that his daughter had been taken to hospital and he was now there. Obviously he had more important things on his mind than my car. I get that. And I don't mind. Only problem is, I'm stuck in a village with no transport and a client to see tomorrow morning.

Maybe it's time to get the bike out. My client's office is about 40 miles away and how he will react if I turn up huffing, clad in scruffy lycra with a laptop strapped to my back I really don't want to contemplate. My racing cyclist husband may be able to carry that off, but I certainly can't.

Ah, well. I feel a little better now. Not that anything's changed, but blowing off steam can take the edge off. Still feel stupid, though.. don't think that will go away however much steam I'm blowing off.

Even something as quietly irritating as Facebook can have its uses, it seems. Amongst all the recent memes extolling the virtues of fresh starts, diets and detox I came across a rather good idea on the Foodies Like Us FB page. (And I liked it so much, I borrowed the photo)

So here's what you do:

Find a jar and a pad of post-it notes
Every time something good happens, write it down on a post-it and drop it in the jar
at the end of the year, you can literally count your blessings

Though I actually plan to open the jar and read all the little good snippets when I'm having a bad day - just to help me realise that things aren't all that bad.

The first note just went in my jar: a client mailed to tell me they're so pleased with my work and the results they're getting, they'd like to expand on our existing arrangement.

There will hopefully be plenty more where that came from. Only problem left to solve: What do I call the jar?

Current Mood: grateful

The impromptu Japanese(ish) New Year's Day Dinner!

Rice
Seaweed salad with roasted sesame dressing
Gyoza Dumplings with Teriyaki sauce or Ponzu & Sesame seed sauce
Ginger Broccoli with toasted sesame oil

For pudding (sorry, European - need pudding) I made sweet coconut rice and served it with pineapple chunks marinaded in maple syrup and lemon juice.

I wanted to add miso soup to the set, but really need to get some decently sized soup bowls first. (mine are decidedly indecent in size!) Still, all things considered, dinner was a hit - with the people who were eating it!

A very Happy New Year to you all - lots of love, success and plenty of stories!
We've had our laziest Christmas break EVER. Barely set foot out of the house once the family Christmas bit was over - the weather wasn't helping - and just lazed around reading, writing, eating and listening to music until I started to wonder if this is what hibernation feels like.

Today though, life started bright, sunny (shock-horror!) and with a tandem ride. Cold but invigorating - except for the state of the roads after three weeks of heavy rain and a dose or two of frost. The sudden improvement in weather wasn't the real shock, though. That honour goes to my husband's "Can we have a Japanese dinner tonight?" Speechless doesn't quite cover it.

He's had to put up with my Bleach-induced Japanese food odyssee (chocolate-covered watermelon onigiri?) for almost a year now and, on the whole, has been very patient with me - even taking me to Toku for my birthday dinner. Not easy, that, seeing he's Vegetarian. So now I'm unexpectedly playing with a Japanese-themed New Year's Day dinner. Created from ingredients I happen to have around the house right at the end of the Christmas break. As challenges go, this.. is a nice one!

Current Mood: amused
Current Location: headfirst in the larder

Our village isn't on a heavily trafficked route, but on normal days, there's at least a steady trickle of cars and delivery vans going through. If the steady trickle increases to a stream, I can confidently predict that the A43 is shut somewhere between Towcester and Brackley. If the trickle stops, though...

It's easy to forget that silence can be as disturbing as too much noise, but I remembered as I woke missing the early morning traffic sounds and finding the village shrouded in a thin layer of white. Not connected to my recurring hallucination of a lady walking a large black pig... just snow and glistening, slippery roads.

Knowing what England can be like at the first three flakes, I bailed on my early morning appointment and instead lit incense to understanding clients and the gods of skype.

Looking forward to a day of fluffy slippers, hot cups of tea and lots of work getting done. Wish me luck and keep warm, everyone!

Current Mood: chilly & amused
Current Music: E.S. Posthumus

If this were Christmas Eve, I would be in the kitchen, headphones on, happily stirring and tasting and singing along to a newly-made mix. The fridge and sideboard would be filling up with tasty-looking morsels, the whole house would smell enticingly of cinnamon and spice and roasting dishes... and there would be a bottle of Pinot Noir within reach for the cook to refresh herself.

It's still a while until I can enact that happy image, but while my mind is in that joyful place, I'd like to wish all you Americans a VERY HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

And being the nosy sort, I'd really like to know what you're cooking and setting before the hungry hoards tomorrow. What does 'turkey and trimmings' mean to you? Do you change the menu year to year or do you have family traditions as we do at Christmas? (and talking of: is Thanksgiving the big day of the year, or do you push the boat out again come Christmas morning?)

Whichever it is - have a wonderful day - and may there be food enough for everyone!

Ordering stuff in advance creates its own problems. I've been looking forward to seeing Steve's birthday cake for a few months now and it's been bugging me that I would only know if it was what I had in mind a single day before he got it.
But there was no need for all the worry. It turned out just....

I know we're quite an international team here, but if you're in middle England and need a celebration cake - I would heartily recommend Rosy Fallick and her team at Cakes for All UK. All the decorations are edible and the actual cake is chocolate Baileys...
It looks too good to eat, actually.

Oscar went to sleep this morning. He clearly wasn't well. Though it hurt like hell, we didn't want to be selfish and drag him to the point where he was in continuous pain, as well as continuously nauseous. He couldn't keep any food down most days and the vet said that he'd have more 'bad' days as time went on. So we made the hard choice.

Oscar's last day had lovely weather. He spent it cuddling with us, running around the garden and being fed tiny amounts of food every two hours to keep his blood chemistry level. I was so glad when all the food stayed down. Surprisingly, after a week of barely sleeping, I did get 4 hours last night. And Oz was a darling, curling up and cuddling and purring as if it was going out of fashion.
We tried to keep calm and collected for his sake, but when he hoofed down a whole plate of shrimps for breakfast, just as if nothing was wrong, I felt like I was about to commit murder.

The vet was amazingly supportive and Oscar went to sleep without knowing what was happening. Strange thing is, while before I hated to be woken a couple of times in the middle of the night, by a cat who wanted cuddles or just wanted to talk - now I would pay money to be woken in the middle of the night again.

Not in a good place today.
Our beautiful Oscar won't be with us much longer. He apparently has a malignant tumor on his liver and spleen and maybe three months left to live. While speaking to the vet on the phone I was given the option not to let him wake from the anesthetic, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Then felt bad about it. Then felt bad for feeling bad. I know I'll have to make that choice soon, but right now he's not in pain, he's not visibly sick, he loves playing, he eats as if food is being rationed tomorrow... who am I to cut short a life? No, definitely not a good place. Sorry.

Current Mood: devastated
Current Music: No sound but the Wind (The Editors)

Ok, in the last two days I've been awake for more hours than was strictly necessary. I've been talking to more people than I usually talk to in a week, too - but that's sort of beside the point. What I'm saying is, I'm tired, and pie-eyed and a little strung out on caffeine. But it really shouldn't be enough to make me see things. Things like very large black pigs, for example.

I've just been driving home from a networking meeting on my usual cross-country route. It has nice scenery, a couple of quaint, really English villages and acres of fields and hedgerows. Occasionally, it has cyclists and a school bus. What I've never seen before, were women taking pigs for walks.

Ok, it was only one woman. And one pig. But that pig was huge! It wore a sort of harness thing made from blue and red cord, and walked in a very civilised manner all by itself. I was suitably flabbergasted at the sight and expected shouts of Bonnie-chan from round the corner, but no sign of Ganjou Shiba. Just a lady and a pig and an empty country road.

Now, what was in that coffee they served at the networking meeting?

Current Mood: confused

Keeping ridiculous hours only gets harder as you get older. When you're 17, staying up forever is a hoot. When you get to my age, it's a challenge.

Yes, I got up at 3am and drove to the station. I got back home, tried to catch some sleep, tried to do some work... tried to being the operative. My brain was mush. But I got through the day, remembered to tape all the relevant programs on TV as instructed, managed not to screw up client websites I was working on, got the ironing done (brainless exercise that, and I can watch Bleach while I do it) and drove to the station to pick hubby up on his return.

He was just as zonked, but had stopped off in Central London on the way back to get me some live Olympic pictures for the England website. He failed to mention that that included an hour-long brisk walk along a heaving Southbank, just to get to Tower Bridge! (The train ticket he had bought did not include the Underground) It made me feel guilty, as I had idly asked for pictures if he saw any. I hadn't intended for him to traverse London on foot at the end of an endless day...

And then, today, when we were finally awake enough to watch the recording of the race he'd been to see... we spotted him by the roadside, in full colour on the BBC! Just for a laugh.

Now, here's to a repeat performance to watch the time trial on Wednesday...