sunshine and rain

It's sunny again this morning. Which makes me happy, but will probably make Rob pray for rain. He doesn't like sunshine, though as he's very fair and burns easily, that's understandable.

Over the bank holiday weekend, we went walking in the Lake District. We had sunshine and rain. I like wandering in the hills, Rob doesn't like outside. Poor Rob. I don't think we'll be doing any more hill walking together.

Rob likes rain and I like rain too, especially being inside and warm and listening to a thunderstorm outside, though I'm mostly sunshine powered. Rob survives sunshine, armed with a big hat and 50+ SPF. We'll weather the weather together.

Eurovision!

Tonight is Debs' annual birthday celebration and Eurovision party. Since her birthday is on 18 May, she almost always organises a party to coincide with watching the Eurovision song contest. I haven't been able to make it for years for one reason or another, but this year, I'll be there.

Everyone who's coming gets a country to represent by wearing a costume and bringing food to represent their country. My country is Israel, so I'm taking falafels and hummous and wearing a tea-towel headdress and carrying a sheep (think nativity play shepherds). Should be fun. I'm sure there will be photos.

baby steps

I went to the library and it was OK. I haven't done any proper studying in ages. I've been meaning to ease myself back into it for ages but this was the first time I've actually managed it.

Today I set myself three goals:

To spend at least an hour in the library doing useful things (i.e. not facebook, email etc)

To read through the last pieces of work I did (dissertation proposal and a critical review essay), including my tutor's comments (I handed them last September and even when I got them back I didn't have the courage to look at anything beyond the numerical marks).

To find two articles or books to read which would be helpful.

I managed all three. My dissertation proposal actually made some sense to me, which was comforting, although it was different from the way I've been describing my dissertation to people for the last year or so. The project I've outlined looks do-able and is less focused on Dawkins and his ilk than I'd remembered. (This was one of the things I was dreading about getting back to it). My tutor had made some useful suggestions for things to read, so I came home with Bahktin's The Dialogic Imagination (which looks pretty dense, but I should have a go) and a Foucault Reader, including his essay What is an Author?, which is relatively short and I think I may have read it before.

It may not sound like much, but it was an achievement to get to the library at all, let alone read things. I felt a bit panicky before I went and I'm still a bit tense now, but I feel like I've made the first, very tiny, step towards completing my dissertation. I am setting myself the goal for the rest of May of doing an hour's work on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, either in the library or reading at home. This afternoon I'm going to make the wall planner I promised in my last post, so I can tick off the days and see how I'm progressing.

plodding

Plodding is what I aspire to at the moment. I seem to be rushing rather than plodding much of the time. Today, I have some unexpected extra time thanks to my usual Thursday afternoon activity being cancelled. I think I shall do what I've been meaning to do for a while and go to the library and do some lit searching for my dissertation research.

I should also make myself a wall planner so I can see the upcoming weeks and months and make plans for them.

monstering

Me and my Rob, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

Me and my Rob in the sunshine.

surrounded by weddings

Here comes another one. Debs' wedding is barely passed and I'm getting ready for another one. My landlord, Ben, is getting married on Saturday and the house is a whirl of activity and packing. His parents have arrived to stay for the week, there are wedding cakes to be iced and all sorts of things to be done. I'm not complaining. It's fun. I'm going to at least two more weddings this summer, but not until August.

I've got a dress to finish if I'm going to wear it on Saturday. It's mostly done, just the (time-consuming) hand-sewing bits to be done.

HP was here over the weekend. I think she had a good time, mostly. We did a little bit of wedding planning and made plans for what we should do with all the pom poms we've been creating. Many more needed!

I am tired again. (Is that news? Maybe you just take it as read.) I'm gradually cutting down on the fluoxetine I'm taking since I'm feeling much better and I'm fed up with the sleep disturbance and vivid dreams I'm having. So far, there's been little discernible effect on either my mood or sleep. I'm hoping for slow but steady change.

catching my breath

Life's been a little hectic recently. There was New Word Alive, there was a wedding, there was Spring Harvest. This week, well the last three days (after getting back from SH on Tuesday afternoon) has felt like a breathing space. Before what, I wonder? HP's coming to visit for a few days tomorrow, I'm going to another wedding next weekend, going camping the weekend after that.

One of the things I thought I'd learnt last year was how to do less and be more. Reflecting on the last few months, I seem to have forgotten that lesson. I'm as busy as ever, and failing to find time for things that I want to do but find scary, like thinking about my future and preparing myself to go back to my dissertation.

On the upside, I am mostly happy. There are the odd blue days, like Thursday when I woke up from confusing dreams and felt grumpy and befuddled all morning. But I do know ways to cope now - like taking myself out for a bike ride to Beechwoods and talking to people. And there's Rob: just the thought of him makes me smile. :o)

I'd like to slow down and enjoy the ride a little more. Lots of lovely things are happening in my life and the lives of those around me and I want to spend time enjoying life and thanking God for all the good stuff. My resolution for 2009 was to have more fun, and so far, I'm keeping to that! I just need to make sure I take time out to breathe, reflect and be thankful.

Debs and Menard

Debs and Menard: first dance, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

It's been a lovely day. Here are Debs and Menard in their first dance. Ah!

Must sleep now!

wedding bells!

No not mine! My sister Debs is getting married today and I'm being a bridesmaid. Actually, bells are unlikely, as she's getting married in a cinema, where her church, Jubilee Church, Lee Valley, meet every Sunday. Debs and Menard and getting married as part of the Sunday morning service. It's going to be fun!

Saturday, saturday, what shall I do today?

Morning world! It's Saturday morning. It's raining. Rob's coming round soon. I need to go food shopping, Rob probably needs to go suit shopping. We're off to New World Alive on Monday. I need to make cake by then (probably chocolate brownies).

This has been a long week. I was ill-ish at the beginning of the week - a cold, probably caught off Rob, but it made me feel awful and very tired. Still, I managed to go home to London to do useful things like buy bridesmaids' dresses for Debs' wedding on 5th April.

I feel in need of a break. I hope Word Alive will be that, though I suspect it will be very tempting to go to lots of meetings and get no sleep. Not a brilliant idea, really. I shall have to make sure I get enough sleep. Still, I'm looking forward to spending lots of time with Rob and learning from God together.

I'm trying to think of some aspect of my life that isn't connected with Rob, but apparently I can't. I didn't want to become one of those girls who gets a boyfriend and suddenly has no time for anything else, but it seems I may have done. I'm sorry, my lovely friends! I do still love you and once I'm back from Word Alive and Debs' wedding is out of the way, oh and maybe Spring Harvest too, I shall try to plan in more time with friends. :o)

Wednesday again?

Hello there! It's Wednesday again and I haven't posted for a week. Life is going by in a bit of a blur at the moment and will probably continue to do so, what with a part time job, a boyfriend, two sisters' weddings to help organise, an MA dissertation to think about (if not actually start on yet), post viral fatigue still making itself a nuisance and umpteen other things to do. I need to practise saying no to stuff!

Still, I like having things to do, even if I get tired. I'm having fun. (And I am getting to bed at reasonable times, mostly.)

Spring has arrived! Hooray! And the clocks change soon. The time change will probably throw me out for a while, it usually does at the best of times, but I know that and can prepare by getting plenty of sleep.

On with the day.

My Rob!

Blogging has been a little quiet of late, and this man is the reason why.

This is Rob. We 'met' when he left a very long comment on my post about dating. We exchanged many many long emails, I found and read his blog and liked what I read. We met IRL for the first time at the City Church Ceilidh on Saturday 30th 31st January and got on very well! So well, that we started going out the very next day.

So far, it's lovely! I met Rob's family the weekend before last and they like me. Rob met a lot of my family all at once this last weekend and not only survived that ordeal, but enjoyed seeing HP in Yeoman of the Guard. My family like Rob too.

We are in love and very happy! :o)

Is this thing on?

My blog seems not to be showing anything on the front page. If this appears, it's working.

ETA: Now all is well again. Weird. Oh well, it proves I'm not dead.

Friday things

Today I had a meeting with someone who pronounces innovative in-NOH-vat-ive. Weird.

Today I ate peanut lasagne for the first time. It was pretty good, though Ben thought it would taste even better without chickpeas in.

Today, I didn't get to bed very early. Not that I exactly tried very hard.

Tomorrow, I am meeting some people on whom I would to make a good impression. Possibly I should therefore have made more of an effort to get good sleep.

Today, I am happy. Tomorrow I expect to be happy, if a little nervous.

Happy weekend!

lazy sheep

lazy sheep, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

I had a lovely Valentine's Day. I saw sheep and pigs and donkeys and rabbits and cows.

It was a good day.

sometimes life trumps blogging

This is one of those times. I am happy. Lots of lovely things have happened in the last week and a bit. Maybe I'll tell the blog about them, maybe I won't.

Today has been a cold sort of Monday. Cold and damp. I spent the afternoon tucked up in the warm reading Permutation City which, so far, is interesting. Tonight was Rev in a freezing cold Trinity chapel. Singing is always fun, but we were all fairly chilly by the end of the evening.

Tomorrow is a day off, which will probably get filled up with useful things like washing, with a fun evening to look forward to. Yay for friends!

the weather continues fine

Actually it doesn't, we've had snow and cold and nastiness. But yesterday was sunny and gorgeous and full of lovely things.

Today I saw a fox on the way home from work. I went the back way from the station, over the cycle bridge and then down the alley ways parallel to Mill Road. The fox was ahead of me in the last alley way. I thought it was a cat at first, but then I saw the ears and the white-tipped brush tail. I think it's the first fox I've seen in Cambridge. I used to see (mangy and unhealthy looking) foxes around the streets of Walthamstow (like the one Debs saw) but this one was rather more glossy and alert. Cambridge is obviously a nicer place to be a fox!

Where is this week going? It's flying past! I'm looking forward to lots of fun things this weekend and, I hope, in the days to come. Right now, life is good!

sleepy Monday

I've had a lovely weekend. Though I could do with a little more sleep. The ceilidh I went to on Saturday night has left my legs achy and stiff. I'm clearly not as fit as I could be!

Still, aches and sleepiness aside, I am very happy. :o)

paint box

Today I discovered that I prefer painting in watercolours to painting in acrylics. I like the subtlety and delicacy of watercolours to the brashness of acrylics. With watercolours, you can lay down washes and build up colour slowly, or let colours seep into one another. You don't have to be definite, if you don't want to, and you can easily wash one colour off your brush and pick up a new one.

I used to paint a lot in watercolours, usually drawing an outline in pencil and then colouring it in with paint. Today, that seems too definite. I'd rather start with the brush and a pale colour and see what happens. I can always make it darker, or wash it into even paler, or even wait until it's dry and paint over the top.

I am wondering what this says about me. Perhaps that I like subtlety. That I like starting small and getting bigger. That I like to be sure of the direction before I move, rather than jumping in with both feet. Hmm.

drifting

I feel like I'm drifting along through life at the moment. I'm not planning anything, it's just happening. I'm not sure that's a good thing. I'm drifting through work. It's OK, but I don't want to do it forever. I don't know what I do what to do though and I'm not particularly doing anything to work it out.

My course is drifting. It is officially on hold, but if I want to finish it, I need to get back into the habit of studying, starting by teaching myself how to read properly again. And if I'm going to finish my dissertation, ever, I probably need a plan of how that's going to happen.

My weight's drifting upwards, gradually, but inexorably and I don't seem to be able to muster the will power to do anything about it for more than half a day at a time.

I don't feel able to plan. I'm living week to week, financially, never quite sure how much work I'm going to do and therefore how much money I'll earn. I'm just about OK, but it's easy to imagine sudden emergencies for which there's no slack.

There's no end goal, no time line. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm fighting wars on several fronts at once, trying to deal with stuff the last year has brought to the surface. It feels like there are too many things for one person to deal with all at once. Plus there are plenty of other people around who need looking after.

Oh dear, I seem to have made myself sad. :o( What on earth am I doing in this mess and how do I find my way out of it?

Monday morning strikes again

Ben loves Mondays. He's always happy and excited about getting back to work.

Poppy loves Mondays. She has a day off since she works on Sunday.

Bekki does not love Mondays quite so much. She has to get up and go to work. It is, however, only a morning (10-2) at work. And there's Rev to look forward to in the evening.

on dating (or the lack of it)

So, I'm single. (You don't have to read this blog for very long to find that out). And I'm thinking I'd quite like to do something about that. And I haven't got a clue what to do. In yesterday's Guardian, there was a guide to dating (which, cynically viewed, is an extended advert for their Soulmates site) which made some interesting reading. I've never done 'dating'. Well, I've never really had a love life which existed outside my head. No, that's a bit harsh. But there's been a lot of unrequited longing and the occasional attempt to do something about it, all of which ended in disappointment of one sort or another.

I tried speed dating in October 2007. It was an experience. Not necessarily one I wanted to repeat. I'm glad I did it, but it's not exactly fun, trying to make a decision on a bloke in 3 minutes and knowing he's doing exactly the same with you. It probably didn't help that I was among the youngest there and most of the guys were a good 10 years older than me. Not that's necessarily a problem. I just didn't hit it off with any of the guys I met.

Last year, I wasn't terribly sociable. Being single was one of the many things that bothered me, but I knew I wasn't really in a fit state to do anything about it. Now, I'm feeling better. Mostly. A bit more confident on a good day, at least, and wanting to do something. Yes, the fact that both of my sisters are attached probably has something to do with that. And the fact that I'm not terribly good at waiting and want to make things happen. But, what can I do?

I feel like I have no idea. It's the eternal cry of the single Christian woman that there are no single Christian men, but I don't think that's entirely true. My main problem is not so much finding a man, but what to do if and when I do find someone I'm interested in. I have no idea how to go from being friendly and smiley to making it clear I'm interested in seeing if there's something more between us. I suppose I could say it in English with words, but I'm so expectant of rejection that that feels too scary. (Yes, I know that attitude's wrong, I'm working on it with God's help.) I can do friendships with guys (mostly. Occasionally there's had to be some negotiation of the boundaries. Mostly when I'm interested and they're not. (I can't think of a single successful friendship where it's been the other way round. I can, though, think of some guys I wasn't interested in who I put down pretty ungraciously. If any of them are reading, I apologise. Hmm, I think I've got a lot to learn from some of my lovely Christian brothers)). Anyway, you can't survive as a female physicist without learning to be friends with men. But I don't know how to go from friend to potential girlfriend. I think the idea of being attractive scares me.

So, right, where does that leave me? With no idea of what to do. Any suggestions? Any single male Christian friends you can set me up with? (Preferably local, rather than say, across the Atlantic). Anyone out there want to say hello?

learning to read

I don't remember learning how to read. I just did. I remember reading Spot books to myself before I went to school and I remember coming home from school with my first reading book ("The big red lorry went up the hill..."). I've always been a book worm, always the one tucked away in a corner, lost in a book. I read voraciously, anything and everything, had the usual phase of finding a book I loved and then seeking out everything by the same author. I think when I went to secondary school, my first method of assessing the school library was to find out how many P G Wodehouse books they had that I hadn't already read.

I carried on reading. I didn't plan to take English Literature A-Level, but when I picked it up a month into sixth form, I discovered I'd read more over the summer than people who had planned to take it, which made me wonder why I hadn't thought of it in the first place. I loved English and the lessons kept me sane through my A-levels. They were discursive and thought-provoking in a way that Maths, Physics and Chemistry just weren't.

I read less during my Physics degree. There just wasn't time in term, but I did still read lots in the holidays. I wrote some poems then too, even got elected JCR Poet Laureate for a year.

Jump forward a few years, and I started studying with the Open University while working. At first, just for fun, but as I started to find my feet and get into the course, studying literature become something I loved doing and was good at, something I wanted to pursue more seriously.

But something changed as I studied. By my third year of OU, a sort of panic was beginning to set in whenever I had to read for study, especially text books. I'd look at a page and find myself speeding up, getting faster and faster and more panicky, wondering how much I much I was taking in. I rarely read anything that wasn't for my course, and when I did, I felt guilty about it. I dismissed the panic as pressure of time. After all, I was also working full time and studying had to get squeezed in between working and the rest of life. I'd work in short bursts, often relying on the pressure of an approaching deadline to get myself motivated to write.

When I left work to start my MA, I initially enjoyed the freedom to read. My course texts were varied and interesting, especially the 20th century ones. I tried reading Ulysses in one day (didn't make it, but got quite a good way through), read in the library, at home, in bed, at work while waiting for videos to process. It was fun. But the panic was still there, especially when I sat down to write an essay. I sailed closer and closer to the wind with my deadlines, producing things at the very last minute, and always conscious that they weren't as good as I wanted them to be.

By the time I got really ill, books just weren't working anymore. Although I did read (and love) Bleak House during a week in bed, that was probably the last time I managed to read something complex. A few weeks after that, I couldn't read, couldn't think coherently, couldn't do anything much. Somehow, over the summer, I managed to read and write enough to produce an essay on The Water Babies, a review and a dissertation proposal. I'm not entirely sure how. As my ability to concentrate came back, I read a bit - mostly detective stories, old favourites, the odd bit of fantasy fiction and not too taxing comic fiction. I'm not sure how I'd define it. Not quite chick lit. The sort of novels with tragi-comic families and adolescent heroines. Lots of Kate Atkinson. I didn't feel up to tackling anything big, say, Pat Barker's Regeneration Trilogy, which I've wanted to complete reading since I studied The Ghost Road in my OU course, or Thomas Pynchon's Against the Day, which has been sat on my to-read pile since I found it second-hand, or Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell which I've been halfway through for over a year. There are lots of books I've started and failed to finish - Nights at the Circus, Lud-in-the-Mist, A Confederacy of Dunces, all of which sat by my bed for months, waiting for me to feel up to reading them again.

I still don't. There are signs of hope. I read Coraline in one go on a train journey at the beginning of January. I'm slowly working my way through Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, when I'm not feeling too sad to read it. But I haven't yet approached anything relevant to my MA, or even re-read my dissertation proposal, or properly read the marker's comments. I'm scared. Scared that I'll never re-capture my love of reading. Scared that some part of my identity is gone forever. Scared of pushing myself too hard and becoming ill again. I know I need to retrain my brain to concentrate and that I can't go straight back to tackling big serious books again, but I don't quite know where to start. I'm also not very motivated to get back to my dissertation. The topic is too close to my heart. There are too many aspects of it that are important to me, that I want to get right and say something worth saying and thought-provoking about, and yet I'm also sick of it because I've been living with those same issues for the past three years and I'd really rather do something else, that mattered less. I don't know whether to give it up; pick another dissertation topic (if I can) or just plough on through the difficulties. I feel like I could do with a reading coach. My supervisor, I suppose, might fulfill that role, but I'm scared of her. And I'm not good at asking for help.

I don't really know what to do. Pray, and live and try to do what I can. And ask God to help me conquer my fears.

mellow Friday night

It's been a funny week. I was in a pretty bad mood for most of it. Sad and not really sure why, if not actually bad tempered. Today I'm fine, happy even, despite a pretty long day of taking minutes for meetings. No idea what made the difference. Which probably proves just how subjective feelings are and how little relationship they can have to reality.

I was going to go out to see some contemporary dance this evening, but I'm not really awake enough. Instead, I shall stay in and relax.

Nothing very profound to say.

I love the sound of a guitarist's fingers squeaking on frets.

29 going on 30? 17? 22? 5?

I've been watching 13 Going on 30, which is very silly, but got me thinking about what it means to be grown up. It was rather comforting to be watching something where 30 is the ultimate age of sophistication and grown-up-ness. I'm going to be 30 in October, and it's scaring me a little.

There's all those things you expect to have done by the time you're 30. Got married (nope), bought a house (er, no and not likely to, judging by current house prices), had a child or two (see above), launched oneself into a glittering career (not really. Unless by career you mean headlong out of control rush with no clear direction). In the film Jenna Rink wishes to be "thirty, flirty and thriving!" And she gets what she wishes for. Of course, one of the points of the story is that the person she's become to get exactly what she wants isn't someone she recognises or even likes. She's dumped her best friend for the in-crowd and built a career out of back-stabbing and bitching. All that apparently good stuff came at a price she comes to realise wasn't worth it.

So where does that leave me? What did I wish for aged 13? I honestly don't think I ever thought beyond going to university, meeting my husband and starting a family. I thought there'd be a job somewhere in there, probably in physics (aged 13, I think I wanted to be a quantum physicist) but I wasn't really bothered about what it was, or whether it paid well or not. Sometimes I feel like I've failed on all fronts. I didn't meet the man of my dreams at university (not the first time, or the second time or the third time). I didn't get a job in physics and right now I'm a temp, with no clue where she's going next.

On the other hand, I'm still me. I think my 13 year old self would recognise me and like me. Maybe she'd be surprised at my confidence (on a good day) and some of the things I'd done. Maybe she'd be sad that I'm still single. I don't know.

I do know that jobs and possessions and husbands aren't the measure of maturity. That's a pretty hard thing to hold onto when rather a lot of the world around you is telling you that they are. I'm not always sure what is. What do I mean by mature? Do I mean being taken seriously as an adult person? Yes, probably. Sometimes I feel about 15. Or 21, newly graduated and applying for my first job. Or 7. (Especially when choosing clothes. I think I have the dress sense of a small child. When I'm relaxed and happy that's a good thing: when I'm trying to look professional for work, less so). I don't quite expect people to think of me as an adult, when an adult in my mind is probably someone with a proper job, a spouse, a house, a car. But actually, lots of 'proper grown-ups' I know don't have all or any of those things. They do have the ability to take on responsibility for themselves and for others and confidence in who they are.

I'm reading Hebrews at the moment and this morning I got to this: "But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil" (Hebrews 5:14, ESV). That's a totally different definition of maturity. Not about stuff, not even about how old you are, but about how tuned in you are to what is good and of God and what is not. Am I mature in that sense, the one that counts? Like everyone, I'm a work in progress. Am I more mature than I was? Yes, I think so. But I've still got a long way to go.

So, how grown up am I? Sometimes, not very. At my most vulnerable, hardly more than a kid. When I'm relaxed and happy, a giggly teenager. Sometimes, on a very good day, a sophisticated 20-something, soon to be 30-something. Mostly, I don't know. But I'm still growing and still learning to love being me.

time for new music?

I have not bought any new music in over a year*. My CD player broke in January 2006 and somehow I never got round to buying a new one. And there wasn't much point buying CDs with nothing to play them on. Then I got a laptop, but little tinny speakers aren't the same as big ones. And then I got ill and depressed and wasn't interested in much. But now I'm feeling better and I have a CD player again (courtesy of the previous inhabitant of my current room) and the hi-fi system in the living room has a handy audio cable to connect up laptops to. So, I'm thinking it's time to buy music again. (Not that I have any money, but we'll let that go).

So what should I listen to? Any recommendations?

Things I like:
Belle and Sebastian (I'm a sucker for stories and vignettes and I love the way their arrangements are sweet without being twee.)
The Divine Comedy (I could listen to Neil Hannon sing anything.)
Interesting 20th century classical music. I had a bit of a Kurt Weil phase.
Ella Fitzgerald (I'd love to sing like her)
Blur (and most things involving Damon Albarn)
Ben Folds (more vignettes and wit and piano amazingness)
Bjork (bonkers but brilliant. Medulla is spine tinglingly beautiful)

Things I don't like:
Twee female singer/songwriters - Joanna Newsome, Feist, anything involving skipping and fluffiness and fragile blondeness. (Not quite sure why. I think it just sets my teeth on edge like too much sugar)
Europop
Dance/trance/all those sorts of music that sound computer generated and moronic but I can't keep track of their names anymore. Maybe to dance to in the right setting, but not to listen to. Not that I'm opposed to electronica, more that I don't like the sort of things that get called 'club anthems' and boom out all summer from boy racers' cars.

Things I thought I liked, but got sick of:
Sufjan Stevens (I bought and initially like Seven Swans, but after a while got completely sick of it)
Guitar bands. Maybe I'm growing out of them. I have in my collection and sometimes still listen to Athlete, the Bluetones, Space, Franz Ferdinand. (Though FF probably should be in the top list).

Things I think I like, but don't know much about:
Northern soul
Jazz - the sorts of things that involve tunes. Not trad, not dixieland, occasionally big band and swing, anything singable, I can just about recognise a Miles Davis track on a good day. Jazz is like poetry, in that I'm intrigued, but a bit intimidated by it.

Random CDs I have in my collection but am not sure if I like or not:
Tom Waits - Alice (I listened to it once, it scared me, then my CD player broke)
The Fall - 50000 Fall fans can't be wrong (Bought under the influence of watching The Manchester Passion)
Aimee Mann - Lost in Space (I can't remember why. After watching Magnolia probably)
Tori Amos - To Venus and Back (Bought for Cornflake Girl, but very rarely listened to)


*Almost true. Actually I bought a Guillemots album on iPlayer just before Christmas. And a few random songs I was learning for a gig in October. And Tchiakovsky's Liturgy of St Chrysostom in about May.

hmm

Might have spoken too soon about the back. It's hurting again. But something was happening when I was being prayed for.

Work's OK, though I often feel like I'm bluffing my way through. Still, it's going well. Someone told me today they were bit a scared because they'd heard I was very efficient. So I must be doing something right. The people thinking I'm efficient bit, not the people being scared of me bit. I'd rather people weren't scared of me.

I do need more sleep. Is it too early to sleep yet? Maybe I'll curl up in bed with a book. Or a radio play. Or a DVD. Or some knitting.

good things

Thursday's depression lifted after a great prayer meeting and lots of prayer and hugs. Friday was a bit fraught in the morning, but got better once I'd got through work, rushed around packing and got on a train to Oxford.

I went to Oxford for a Gaudy and had a lovely time. It was odd to be back in college; I haven't really been back since I left, well apart from my two graduations (Yes, Oxford's weird. That's why we love it.) But all the other people were familiar faces and the whole evening was about catching up with what everyone's been doing for the past few years and being nostalgic for our student days. In some ways I felt just the same, but in others I knew I'd changed. I felt more confident and more sure of who I am. I didn't really mind what people what of what I was doing now, it just good to see them again. (And I was wearing a gorgeous dress, which is always a confidence booster!)

The moon on Saturday night was surrounded by a beautiful rainbow halo.

I had lunch in G&Ds on Saturday. I was supposed to be meeting up with a friend (V), but the thing about G&Ds is that there are now three of them. (There was only one in my day, the second opened up just after I left and the third about a year ago). I suggested one, but we hadn't finalised it. So I went to the first (and oldest) one. No V. So I sat inside and had a hot chocolate to warm up, but after half an hour, still nothing. So I walked down to other end of town, reasoning that maybe if she'd gone there and realised I wasn't there she might have started off towards where I was and we'd meet up on the way. But I got all the way there and still no V. I have idea what happened (and now her facebook account seems to have disappeared, so I'm puzzled. V, where are you?). So I decided to give up and have lunch alone. And then I noticed that sitting next to my table was someone I'd met once and had been sort of trying to arrange to meet. So I introduced myself and we chatted and it was fun. So I dunno what that's about, but coincidences are a lovely thing.

I went to Emmanuel this morning, which was great - really friendly and just felt like home. (And several people seemed to know who I was before I introduced myself, which I suspect is a direct result of telling the legend that is Bryan McGill that I was planning to visit). And I got prayed for and I think God might have healed my back! Wow! I'll see what it's like over the next few days.

C and I went for a walk in the grounds of Blenheim Palace on Saturday afternoon. Everything was covered in frost, every blade of grass, every twig of every tree. It was magical. Too beautiful to photograph. In fact I failed to take any photos this weekend. Sometimes it feels like fishing around for a camera would spoil the moment and I'd rather look around carefully and remember. There were lots of moments like that this weekend.

:o)

today's things

I wish I listened to myself more.

It's easy to feel better for a few days, decide I'm fine, do lots of things and then find myself back to collapsing in a heap again.

Which is what happened. I did a whole day at work yesterday, which wore me out and I've been tired and low all day as a result.

I am feeling very single today and not in a good way. It didn't help that I was all alone last night AND there was a power cut and I got to eat my dinner by candle light. All alone. :-( I didn't even have a friendly housemate to share the fun with. And I read more of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close which made me want to cry*. And it would have been lovely to have someone to give me a hug and make it better. I did have a chat on facebook with an old friend, which was a good thing too. Not as good as a hug, but friendly.

I am not doing at all well on the eating front. Not really trying. It's not like I haven't got a pretty good reason to lose weight (HP's wedding in August) I just can't get myself convinced I can do it. I need to kick comfort eating for a start. I know this. I've got a strategy for doing it. I need to convince myself I can do it, with God's help. And that I want to.

Am I stopping myself finding a man? What's wrong with me? I'm still trying to deal with one of the strategies I think I've been using to keep myself safe from the prospect of a relationship. (The pig and her hook. I'm not going to explain more than that.) I want to be in a relationship, but I seem to be too scared or too afraid of hard work or too something, (I don't know what, on a bad day too weird and ugly, on a good day I know that's not true) to actually make that a reality. I say there are no men. Is that really true? Do I need to look harder? Be less picky? Chill out and stop scaring them away? Arrrgh!

Today, insects seem to be waking up. There was a fly buzzing round the room this afternoon, which was pretty annoying. When I got home, there was a small winged thing crawling around on my computer. I think it might actually have crawled inside the keyboard. Grr.

It's been a bad day. I hope tomorrow is better. I'm doing another long day at work, but I need to leave in time to get home and then get to the station to catch a train to Oxford. I'm off to a Gaudy (college reunion) and catching up with some old friends. I'm planning to go to Emmanuel Church on Sunday morning. Look out for me if you're there!

*Which is, I suppose, progress in a way. I used to be a little proud of never crying at films or books, but after having had several months of being unable to cry, broken by a weekend of howling, I'm beginning to think I was actually very cut off from my emotions and that I'm now able to be touched by other people's sadness, even fictional sadness, is a good thing.

bored = getting better?

Well. I got bored yesterday. I didn't know what to do with myself in the afternoon, after a morning at work. I ended up doing some tidying and watching stuff on iPlayer. Which was a short term solution, but perhaps I need to find some better solutions.

My work hours are going to be fairly regular for the next few months, so I should be able to get until a routine and do some useful things as well as work. Like getting some exercise and maybe even doing some reading. (I read a book in bed last night! 15 pages or so of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer.) I'm trying to get myself back into the habit of reading. I'd like to start doing some dissertation relevant reading, though the idea scares me a bit at the moment. I don't quite know where to start. But there's no hurry and if I can do a little bit now and then, all the little bits will add up.

I feel a lot better than I was a few months ago, though I still seem to need lots of sleep. (Though I'm probably still catching up from the weekend). I need to be careful though and not try to do too much. It's easy to feel better for a few days, decide I'm fine, do lots of things and then find myself back to collapsing in a heap again.

I suspect January doesn't help. It's so cold! The biting wind doesn't make one inclined to get out of the house. Must wrap up warm and brave the weather. And look forward to spring.

goodbye 2008, hello 2009

Bye 2008. You were interesting. Pretty horrible in bits, too much depression and sadness and serious introspection. On the other hand, I did learn a lot about myself and about God. And there were good bits too - friends and holidays and fun and laughter.

2009 - I'm looking forward to good things in you. This year, I would like to have lots of fun and laughter!

Happy New Year everyone! May your 2009 be filled with wonderful and awesome people, events and experiences!

home again and about to move

Whew! I'm back in Cambridge after Christmas with one set of grandparents, followed by a few days with the other set. I got back this afternoon with Debs and HP who graciously agreed to help me pack and move house. I'm moving again, not too far away. Some of my stuff got shifted this afternoon, but there's still at least a couple of car loads to go. I hate packing, but fortunately Debs likes it (and is very good at it. Thanks for the a-sister-ance!). I do like unpacking. I'm looking forward to organising my stuff into a new place.

Before that, sleep, New Year's Eve celebrations, a New Year's day walk. Funness!

Good night!

Christmas Eve Eve

That was cryptic, wasn't it? No, I'm not explaining. Just things that popped into my head that I wanted to record.

Today was been a good day. I spent most of it working through steps to Freedom in Christ. Lots of praying and renouncing stuff and forgiving people. It feels like God's lifted a huge weight off me and I feel relaxed and free. And very tired. :o)

This evening I've been out to run errands and meet knitters in the pub. Now I'm sitting in my room listening to carols on the radio and contemplating packing. Tomorrow I'm off on the train to join my parents and sisters at my Grandparents' house and the day after that, it's Christmas day!

Have a wonderful and blessed Christmas!

tales I could tell but probably won't

The frightened pig and the man who peeled mushrooms

The confused pig, the sea urchin and the egg-head

The pig, the acrobat and the Tigger who saved the day

The pig who walked by herself and fell over

The pig, her hook and how she got unhooked

The pig and her friends

How the pig learned to fly

well well well

So here we are at Monday again. I am really very tired. Too much fun. I went to a party Friday night, Nathan was here over the weekend, church carol service was last night.

I'd happily curl up and go to sleep, but I'm hoping the anti-squirrel man might turn up soon.

I had my hair cut. Maybe I'll show you.

I've been watching repeats of the last series of Doctor Who. Christmas special soon, yay!

what day is it?

I'm losing track of what day it is. I keep being a day out. Last night I was fairly sure it was going to be Friday when I got up again. Alas, no.

I do know it's a week until Christmas! And that this is my penultimate day at work before Christmas. And that the weekend (beginning with Friday) will be filled with fun things.

This cold's still dragging on. I think it's contributing to the feeling of timelessness. I slept through the night last night which was a lovely thing. For someone's who's recovering from post-viral fatigue and also has a cold, I think I'm doing pretty well. There were almost tears between work and an evening do yesterday, because I felt so tired and didn't want to go out again, but when I did, I enjoyed myself. And I got home at a reasonable hour and went straight to bed with hot lemon and honey.

These diary posts aren't exactly thrilling, are they? I wish I had more exciting/profound/amusing things to say, but I just don't at the moment. I'm not reading any books, not doing much other than sleeping, eating, working, knitting, seeing friends.

Talking of books, can anyone lend me Little Dorrit over Christmas? I loved the BBC version and would like to read it. Or try. I'm hoping Dickens is escapist enough (and unlike Ian McEwan enough) for it not to cause me to panic.

Wednesday

Yesterday went OK. The people who were supposed to turn up, turned up. There were no panics. Today I don't have to be in til lunch time.

Yesterday, the beasties in the loft were identified as squirrels. Which is sort of better and sort of worse than rats. I'd rather not have rats running about above our heads, but squirrels are harder to eradicate. Still, knowing your enemy is progress, I suppose.

Today, a man is here to fix the bathroom floor. Hooray! We've only got the one loo, so he's going to do his best to put it back in before he goes today. I do hope so. Eek!

Today it's not raining, though it looks cold. I am still coughing. I am not surprised, having learnt last week that the average cough lasts 21 days. I wish it would hurry up and go though.

what a girl wants, what a girl needs

Things Bekki needs:

sleep

a haircut

food to take to a picnic (indoor obv.) tomorrow night


Things Bekki wants:

her cold to go away

her throat/ear/head to stop hurting

snow at Christmas

everything to go well at work tomorrow

chocolate

this week I have been mostly sneezing

At least, that's how it feels. I've got the sniffly lurgey that's going around and I've spent the last couple of days lying on the settee feeling sorry for myself, producing large quantities of snotty tissues and watching stuff on iPlayer.

Last night, I slept well and didn't wake up at 3am like I have the last few nights. Hooray! I'm feeling a bit more alive this morning, though I'm still coughing and sniffling. I hope by tomorrow morning I'll be feeling even better and be ready to sing at church.

Christmas is coming up fast. One good thing about being ill is that I've had lots of time to knit, so my gift knitting is under control. Christmas shopping on the other hand, hasn't happened at all. I don't think I'm going to attempt any today - town will be packed. Maybe Monday.

And there are Christmas services next weekend to sing at and invite people to. And then it's Christmas proper. Yay!

frost and sunshine

frost and sunshine, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

I've been away for the weekend with lots of lovely people from my church. It was a wonderful time. I wasn't feeling very happy on Friday night and expected to spend a lot of the weekend crying. But God had other plans and instead I spent lots of time smiling and relaxing and being filled with peace.

This morning the frost was beautiful. I went out and took photos around the grounds of the place where we staying; details of leaves and views across the valley below. More on flickr.

splinter birds

There's a tree in the next road over that's often full of magpies and sometimes jays. I like jays. They remind me of the Splinter Birds in Rebecca's World by Terry Nation. The splinter birds are extinct at the beginning; they're an almost mythical species of birds with long beaks who can be called upon to remove splinters from fingers. It's been a while since I read Rebecca's World (Memo to home: Can someone bring it when you next see me? It better not have gone in the great book clear out.) but I remember bits of it very clearly, especially the illustrations; Rebecca with her long curly hair and long ruffled dress with pockets, the shiny Mr Glister. At a time when I was far too scared to watch Dr Who, I think I read a Dr Who novel I found in the school library because it was also written by Terry Nation. (I wonder what it was?)

I still love fantasy stories. Not everything, but well crafted novels which draw you into a parallel or surreal world. Gormenghast, The Never-Ending Story, The Box of Delights, The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings (though probably the former more than the latter), Neil Gaiman, Douglas Adams. (I think a taste for HHGG probably helped me survive years of male-dominated physics lectures and practicals. If you share geeky humour, you can fit in by being an honorary bloke.) I briefly considered doing an MA dissertation on Neil Gaiman and Hope Mirlees' Lud-in-the-Mist but decided I didn't really know enough about either.

I'm fond (possibly too fond) of escaping into books. I didn't like 'teenage fiction' when I was younger because it was to much like real life. I wanted my books to be unreal worlds, to take me away from the life I knew. In the last few months, I've gone back to that feeling. I've been avoiding serious hard work books (i.e. anything that might be relevant to my MA) and instead reading silly ones, detective stories, fantasy, children's books. Anything to escape. I don't know if that's a good thing or not.

Footnote: While googling to find some explanatory links, I found this page which suggests Gentlemen and Players by Joanne Harris as a similar book. Er, how, exactly?

almost midnight

I should be asleep. I'm sitting in bed, blogging. I was trying to be asleep, but too worked up about stuff to relax.

It's been another rollercoaster of a week. Yes, I know it's not over yet. But my working week is over.

I wish I were different. I wish the world were less screwed up. I wish people didn't hurt each other.

I'm going to lie in bed and read Psalms to get some perspective.

today I finished a camel

completed camel, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

I didn't make the camel, but I did make the saddle and all the cargo.

It's December!

Hmm, shall I stop this daily posting thing or not? Let's see how long it lasts.

I've been doing more singing at the Rev Christmas concert. Twas fun.

December always seems to creep up on me. I forget that it comes straight after November (despite the fact that it happens every year) and suddenly get surprised by the fact that it's December and not many weeks until Christmas. Yay! I like Christmas. But I do have a few things to do before then, like Christmas knitting and present shopping. And packing to do, and a conference to help organise and lots of other things too.

Better get to sleep then.

ooh look

It's the last day of November! And I managed to post at least once every day. Yay me!

Though I don't think every post was exactly wonderfully contentful, I have enjoyed the challenge of finding things to write about. I'm going to aim to continue blogging regularly. Maybe not everyday, but more than the once a week or so I have been doing.

There's been rather a lot of soul-searching/moaning going on in the last month. That's because that's rather the way life is at the moment. Good things are happening too. I'm moving house sometime after Christmas. This is because my landlady's leaving the country next year, which is both exciting and sad, 'cos I'll miss her. I'm moving to my church small group leader's house, which feels like home already since I've been there at least once a week for the last 2 years or so. I have a temporary job at least until Christmas, possibly on into next year. It can't last forever though. I need to find something more permanent. I'm unlikely to go back to my MA in January. At the moment I'm assuming I'll restart it in September 2009, unless there's a good reason not to. My GP suggesting starting to limber up for study again by trying to read useful things for half an hour a day, or maybe half an hour a week at first to get my brain back in the habit of studying. There are lots of exciting changes happening or about to happen at church. Even if I don't know what I'm doing careerwise, I think I'm in the right place at the moment with church and friends.

I don't know what 2009 is going to bring. I hope it's going to be good.

independence / get over it!

HP said "And we always thought you were the independent bear!!!".

Yeah, maybe I was once. I'm so used to doing everything myself. It's partly fear, I think. Fear of explaining myself to someone else, so I do it myself. Trusting someone else is scary, and involves having to think clearly about what I mean and communicating it.

Sorry, this doesn't make any sense, does it? I'm trying to untie a knot (a particularly Gordian one) in my head. I don't want to be lonely anymore. Specifically, I'd quite like not to be single any more. I don't know what's a legitimate thing to do about that. Where do I look? What do I do? It's as if I'm not allowed to be independent in looking for a man. Not allowed by whom? Myself, mostly. If I'm looking for someone to lead me, I don't want to take the lead in finding him. I want him to find me.

I'm almost cross with men in general. It's as if we women just have to wait in line until the guys get their act together, chose their woman and woo her. Nothing we can do but wait to be picked. And if no-one picks us? Tough! Nothing you can do about it, but feel inadequate and unattractive.

I think that's what's been making me tearful and irritable this week. I'm not quite sure of the way out. If you're the praying sort, please can you pray for peace in my head and heart and for me to trust God on this one.

And if you've got any advice...

whoosh

And Saturday's rushing past me. Not in a bad way. I helped move Rachel across town, read the paper and went to a choir rehearsal. Suddenly I'm feeling very tired. I think it's the light - as soon as the sun goes down I get very sleepy.

Tonight I'm off to have dinner with Liz. Yay!

friday night

It's been an odd week. I've been happy, sad, exhausted, well rested, busy, bored and everything else in between. This afternoon I've been feeling homesick, for what I'm not exactly sure, but like something's missing. I think I just need a bit of being with friends time. Soon, friends will arrive for dinner. My housemate and I have made a lasagne and it's about to go in the oven. The oven wasn't co-operating and decided not to work for a while, but now it seems to be OK again. Most odd.

Tomorrow, I'm helping a friend move house and going to a rehearsal. Probably lots of other things too. It's the weekend, it's mostly unplanned. I hope good things happen.

solos and duets

I've been singing again, so it's on my mind. Indulge me.

I rarely sing alone. Even if I'm singing solo, there's generally an accompanist with me. The relationship between singer and musicians is key to how good the music sounds. There's always an element of uncertainty singing with somebody new - will we get on? Will we understand each other? Are they any good? Am I any good? What if it all goes wrong? But when it's good, it's great. There are some people that I love to make music with - they know what they're doing, we trust each other, even if it goes wrong, we'll have sorted ourselves out before the audience has noticed. I especially love singing duets and improvising harmonies. When you don't quite know what's going to happen, but you weave melodies round each other and it just works. It's so much fun! (And I think people like it.)

In music, and in other things too, I work better when I've got a starting point and and a structure. I love singing jazz because you take the tune and fiddle with it, ornament it, play with the rhythm and the melody and the words and sometimes just end up with wordless noises, but it's all fitted into the progression of chords and the pattern of verses, choruses, bridges and middle 8s. I'm not good at designing knits from scratch, but give me a pattern and I'll change it as I go to make it fit better or look different. Essays work much better when I've got a starting point to argue from or a statement to disagree with.

Yes, you can read into this that I would love to have a duet partner for life. Someone to do life with, to bounce ideas off, to argue it out and improvise with. My own accompanist and fellow troubadour. And yes, I would love for him to be a fellow musician. But also, I don't work well alone, no-one does. I need people around me to relate to and have fun with and to be loved by and to love.

sing sing sing

I like singing. I love singing. I will sing anywhere, anytime, for no reason whatsoever. Singing makes me happy. Occasionally I get paid to sing, but I'd do it for the fun of it anyway.

I'd love to sing more. I sometimes wish I could make a career out of it. I haven't got a clue how. I don't know where to start and the world is full of young women who think they can sing, most of them prettier than me.

Still, if you're in the Cambridge area and looking for a singer; I'd love to.

shadows

shadows, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

I've been to the woods again. The leaves are almost gone and the trees are bare.

nothing much

sillhouette, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

I've got nothing much to say today. I am (guess what) very tired. I went to Rev and came home again after two songs. I hope a good long sleep will sort me out.

Here's a photo from a couple of weeks ago. I was playing with my camera and using the colour highlight setting to pick out the blue of the sky and put everything else in black and white. It's a little hard to tell since the trees are almost monochrome anyway.

sunday night

It snowed in London today. I didn't take any photos though. In fact I didn't take any at all over the weekend. Sorry.

I did have fun being with my family and friends. I knitted lots, did crosswords with my mummy, mixed Christmas pudding, drank coffee, ate pork chops and fajitas and sausages (not all at once), and generally enjoyed myself.

Now I'm back in Cambridge. I was going to go out this evening, but it's cold and I'm tried out. Early bed, I think.

How was your weekend?

E17 Saturday

I've been enjoying being at home. My mum and I went to the Jubilee church prayer meeting this morning, which is always brilliant. I went to a craft fair at St Mary's and then wandered down the market, looking for (and failing to find) some material from which to make pyjamas. It was cold! I love the fact you can buy almost anything on Walthamstow market - fruit, veg, clothes, toys, pots and pans, tvs, dog leads, jewellery, you name it, it's there somewhere. Except, apparently, interestingly striped cotton suitable for Bekki pyjamas. Ah well.

This afternoon I've been knitting and watching Henry V (the Branagh version). If you're interested, there's an old post of mine about the Branagh and Olivier films of Henry V. I'd like to finish the jumper I'm knitting so I can show it off at church tomorrow, but I doubt it's going to happen.

Back to Cambridge tomorrow afternoon, but I'm enjoying this E17* interlude.

*E17 is the postcode for Walthamstow. As made famous (for good or ill) by East17.

off to London

I'm making the most of a long weekend (I worked Monday to Wednesday this week and will probably do Wednesday to Friday next week) by going 'home' to London. Well, to the house I grew up in, which is still sort of home, but sort of not anymore. You know how it works.

I'm taking my knitting and my camera. I hope there will be knitting progress. I expect there will be photos.

Happy Friday!

how to tell if you're dreaming

If you're flying above a beautiful coastline on a white melamine piece of furniture which is not readily identifiable as table, chest of drawers or bookcase, which keeps bucking and threatening to throw you off.

This may be a dream. However convinced you are that it's white melamine, furniture in the real world tends to have an identifiable form and to stay in one place.

If you're in a aeroplane on the edge of space with hundreds of other people and are being shown a system of intelligent radio stations which can play you just what you want to hear and are labelled with words like 'amazing', 'mellow' and 'super'. And then you notice that each one also has a shape label of 'rectangle' or 'diamond' or 'oval'. And you naturally wonder if this is for synaesthetes, to identify the music by its visual shape, but the manual reveals that this is merely the name of the server the radio station is using at the time.

This may be a dream. The radio stations are all in overhead boxes with speakers that play outloud simultaneously and that would be of no practical use to anyone.

If you're in a therapy session, but you're not exactly sure how long it's been going on and the clock is moving faster than usual and outside the world seems to be spinning round and you decide this must be a dream and start screaming to make yourself wake up and the other people are looking at you like you're mad and eventually, they change places or names or haircuts and even though you're still shouting, you haven't woken up yet, so you just give up and go with it.

This may be a dream. No-one would actually bat an eyelid if you did start shouting in therapy.

If you've got up and out of bed, but five minutes later find yourself still in bed, so get up and out of bed, but five minutes later find yourself still in bed, so get up and out of bed, but five minutes later find yourself still in bed, so get up and out of bed, but five minutes later find yourself still in bed, so get up and out of bed, but five minutes later find yourself still in bed, tired and confused and feeling like you've been wrestling a bear.

This may be a dream. There are no bears in Cambridge.

I think I'm awake now. The furniture's not moving, the room isn't spinning and there aren't any unexpected people or bears about.

Still, you can never be too sure. What will happen if I start screaming to wake up now?

...and zonk!

I think yesterday's wooziness was caused by tiredness. Today I am just as tired and about to have an afternoon nap.

I'm frustrated with getting so tired. I've worked three mornings this week. I did have a relatively late night on Monday, but in theory I've had enough sleep and mostly it was good sleep. I'm tired of being tired. I don't know what to do differently. Most fresh air and exercise? Different food? Go to bed even earlier?

Grrrr.

I am not ill! I am not ill!

Repeat until convinced.

I'm tired, my head hurts, my throat hurts, my neck is achy, I feel floaty. I hope some sleep will help.

How do you feel today?

In case you hadn't guessed already, last night I went to the Flying Pig. I liked it. There were pictures of pigs all over the walls and ceiling, interspersed with concert posters and silly things. I tried to take some pictures, but the ambiance was impossible to capture (i.e. it was too dark). We sat around and chatted and drank our various drinks and played with balloons until someone batted one at a glass and caused a loud crash. (Not me, I was engrossed in the Guardian crossword with Poppy). Although I suppose I did provide the balloons. Does that make me (ir)responsible?

no dead mice on the lawn today...

...just a mushroom. I suspect my housemate (whose lawn it is) will be unimpressed.

The weather feels very late autumnnal, almost wintry. The trees I've been admiring on my way to work have almost lost all their leaves and look woebegone and naked. The sky is overcast and everywhere is damp and drizzly.

Still, today is also the birthday of one my Cambridge friends (Happy Birthday Lizzie!) and tonight we're off to a wonderfully named pub which I probably should have visited before now. Can you guess what it's called?

sociable sunday

Today I...

...went to church

...had lunch at CB2

...sang in a mini concert

...chatted with friends

...drank port for the first time in ages

...got wet in the rain

...was startled into giggles by Marge and Homer Simpson

...ate ice cream

...went to bed before 10pm

dead mouse

dead mouse, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

It says something about my state of mind this morning that all I can think of to post is a picture of a dead mouse.

I think it's a rather sweet and pathetic dead mouse. A memento mori perhaps.

I am tired.

the stuffness of stuff

In just over a month, I'm going to be moving house again. (Not very far). I'm looking around my room and wondering about all the accumulated stuff around me. How much of this stuff do I actually need? How much is just sitting there? How much is still in boxes from the last time I moved? (Quite a bit, I've realised). Part of me would love to travel light. Part of me can't bear to get rid of anything, especially books.

As I pack, I'm going to try to think critically about my stuff and get rid of some of it. Some to the bin, some to other people, some to charity shops. I don't think I need all this stuff.

musings on Morse

Last night I was watching Inspector Morse on ITV.com catchup. I had very vivid memories of this episode (Cherubim and Seraphim), from the opening image of a girl dancing in front of flashing lights to the final rave scene in a country house. As I watched, I tried to work out why I remembered it so well. It was originally aired in 1992, when I was 12, nearly 13. I think it represented to me a teenage culture I didn't like the look of and which scared me. Rave culture and acid house was frightening to me. Loud music, too many people, drugs. Not that I actually ever experienced it, but it was in the air. Or perhaps it's just in retrospect that I project what I know now onto my memories.

Rave is just as baffling to Morse. It's amusing how naive the ordinary policeman seems about dance parties in this story. Even the drug squad are under-resourced and short of information. But there's also an innocence to the ravers. They just want to dance. The drugs are about having a good time, feeling blissed out and loving the world. The tragedy of the story is that the ultimate high leaves people feeling empty and pointless, as if after they've experienced the most wonderful thing in life, there's nothing left to live for.

Perhaps the episode is a snapshot capturing a particular moment when rave was young and innocent, when the police were interested, but not concerned, before the crackdowns and mass arrests. Or perhaps Julian Mitchell and Danny Boyle who respectively wrote and directed the episode were painting an overly innocent picture. I don't know. Raves have never been my thing, though I can see the attraction of just losing yourself in music and dancing for hours.

I was happy to see this episode again and see different things in it: the fragments of baroque music sampled in the dance tracks stood out more, I could appreciate the subtleties of Morse's musings on parents and children. Marilyn, the girl who commits suicide, isn't his child (though I did spend quite a lot of the episode wondering whether it was being hinted that she was. Since her mother is Morse's step-sister or half-sister, that seems unlikely), but she is the nearest equivalent he has and his recollections of their conversations about literature suggest a close relationship and shared personality traits.

Some TV programmes I enjoyed when I was younger don't stand up to repeat viewing or only serve as nostalgia triggers. Morse is an exception. Even if I've seen it before and remember who did what to whom, there's usually something I didn't notice the first time around or a new subtlety to be appreciated.

(I have never, however, been able to spot any of Colin Dexter's Hitchcock-like cameos.)

stop!

I'm supposed to be not rushing around too much. I am failing to do so. I was going to go to the cinema tonight to see Quantum of Solace but instead I shall be staying in and going to bed early. Oh, the excitement.

I am getting better at stopping to be. This year I've noticed that I've noticed autumn in a way I'm sure I haven't for the past few years. I was excited about waiting for the leaves to change and about watching them shade into different colours. I allow myself longer to get out of bed, dressed and breakfasted and out of the house which means I've got much better at finding time to read my Bible and pray in the morning. Sometimes I'm managing to take time to hang out with other people and not do much, just breathe the same air and chat. I'm doing 3 mornings a week at work, which I can manage. I'm not sure whether I could manage more. That feels strange. I used to be able to work a full week, do lots, miss out on sleep and eventually recover by collapsing in a heap. I can't anymore. Maybe that's a good thing.

soft things

I've never really thought of myself as a soft toy person. Well, not since I was very little. Apparently my cot was so full of toys there was hardly space for me. But when I moved from a cot to a bed, the toys stayed behind. (Instead, there were books under the pillow, but that's another story). Some toys got adopted by my sisters (notably Baby Teddy who was re-christened Teddy David by Debs) and others drifted into boxes or disappeared. Some still survive. Today in my room live:

Piglet, who for a long time wore a knitted dress belonging to a doll (I don't know why) but now wears a natty jumper I knitted from sock wool a couple of years ago.

Alexander, a small jointed teddy bear (3.5 inches high) who occasionally gets worn as a brooch, who is wearing a yellow ribbon and a miniature cashmere scarf.

Growlie, a very ancient growling teddy with a slightly intermittent growling action. He's a very old friend. The growling mechanism stopped once when he fell (or was pushed) downstairs. A repeat fall brought it back again, but he sounds more like a cow than a bear.

Donkey, a very recent addition. I think he's supposed to be the donkey from Shrek. I keep meaning to mend the seam in his back which is splitting.

Also around at the moment are a camel and a small knitted boy who are just passing through en route to a story sack at church.

Perhaps I'm more of a soft toy person than I thought. I don't want any more though.

Monday

It's raining, it's pouring
I don't like Monday morning.
I want my bed, my eyes are red*
Why did I get up this morning?


*Actually they're not, but it scanned nicely and they are sleepy.


Big yawns! My arms ache which I suspect is due to lugging chairs around yesterday. Or knitting. Or both. I've been doing admin-type things. I'd like to get out of the house, but it's raining and I don't feel like getting wet. So I'm staying in and yawning and grumping.

windy evening

It's one of those autumn nights when the wind is howling around outside and I'm warm inside with a blanket and a hot water bottle. It's been a good weekend, lots of time chilling with friends and just being.

Right now, I feel good about life. I'm enjoying the lack of deadlines and stress. I have work, but I can just turn up, do it and go home again. I've got lots of time to think and sleep and knit and pray and be. Perhaps I haven't got as much energy as I'd like, but I'm trying to be sensible with the time and energy I do have. I have good friends and family who love me.

There are lots of uncertainties too. I don't know how long this particular stage of life is going to last. My job is temporary and life feels equally temporary. I don't know what I'm doing next. This past year hasn't quite been what I expected. Since I haven't a clue what's going to happen next year, that will be equally unexpected!

Still, right now, I'm alive and OK.

Saturdays are for...

...friends: I invited myself round to a friend's house to spend the afternoon knitting and then invited another friend to join us.

...knitting: actually I was outnumbered 2:1 by crocheters.

...fun: Much fun was had by all as we chatted and created and did crosswords.

...food: Large quantities of tea and Battenburg were consumed, curry was cooked and eaten.

I like Saturdays.

brown and gold

brown and gold, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

I've been wandering in the woods again.

The colours are beautiful, breath-taking. I met someone else who was wandering round with a camera, trying to capture the beauty of the brown carpet, golden canopy and connecting grey-green trunks.

Beechwood has two parts, one older than the other. The younger part was golden before the older, but now the leaves are gone and it's in its winter bareness. The last time I was in the woods, the newer part of the wood was shut off for work, so I hadn't seen it for a fortnight or so. It was a shock to walk through the gate from one part into the other and go from rich golds to stark greys. Everything changes.

As I walked, I thought about how I've changed since I discovered these woods early this year. It's been a tough year. Nothing exactly went to plan. I'm still waiting for life to resolve somehow and make sense. I've been waiting for autumn to come to my woods and make them beautiful and now it has. That gives me hope that life will get better; change has come and will come and is coming.

winter of a dormouse

I feel like a dormouse today. No, not for dinner. I feel like curling up somewhere warm and cosy until it's spring again. Actually I like autumn, and cold weather's OK when you've got heating and warm duvets and a hot water bottle, but it's so dark and gloomy I don't want to do much.

This week I have managed to do three mornings (10-2) at work, which feels like an achievement. I've also been out doing things on Monday night, Tuesday night and Wednesday night. All of which might possibly be contributing to feeling the need for hibernation.

I'm staying in tonight, where it's warm and cosy and snuggly.

hearts in the sky

hearts, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

I went, I saw fireworks, I ooh-ed and ah-ed. I took pictures. This is my favourite. More on Flickr.

fireworks!

It's bonfire night! I'm off soon to meet up with friends to watch the city firework display. I will take my cameras and see what interesting photos I can take.

I made a hat.

sily pink hat, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

Started yesterday, finished today.

Who am I?

This afternoon I've finally got round to opening What Colour is Your Parachute? and making a start on some of the exercises and some online tests. So far, I've discovered that my interest colour and usual style are blue (Princeton Review Careers Quiz) and my Myers-Briggs type is INFJ. Which doesn't really tell me anything I didn't know before. The jobs suggested by some of these tests include writing and editing, teaching, counselling, clergy, musician and actor. An article by Marina Margaret Heiss suggests that "overall, INFJs can be exceptionally difficult to pigeonhole by their career paths." Clearly that's the problem; I don't know what I want to do, because there are too many options. :o)

The thing is, I think part of the problem is I'm scared. I'd love to write for a living or edit books or research in libraries all day, but I'm not convinced I'm good enough and I don't know where to start.

sunday

Well it appears I have at least 2 readers. Thank you guys!

I've just spent the afternoon sleeping which is a terrible waste of a beautiful sunny Sunday afternoon. My excuse is that having heard Dave Devenish speak at church this morning, I really want to hear him again at Blaze (our 18-30s evening) and I knew I wouldn't be awake enough if I didn't have a little nap first.

Some of us were talking over lunch after church about faith and plans for the future and about Psalm 37v4: 'Delight yourself in the LORD and He will give the desires of your heart.' The verse seems ambiguous. Is it that God gives us the desires or what we desire? Not that that's really the point - the point is the first bit, 'Delight yourself in the LORD', not in anything else. But sometimes God does give us things we desire, even silly little things. I remember thinking at one point in my life how nice it would be to live somewhere where I could cycle to work, which was small enough not to have to spend ages on the train to get anywhere. I never pursued that dream consciously, but that's where I've ended up. Funny. :-) So if God can give us the small desires, He can be trusted with the big ones too.

windows

What does this blog say about me? I'm not too sure. There's not been much intellectual content to it for a while. Mind you, there's not been much intellectual content to me for a while either. I'm reading, but mostly silly things (in the last couple of weeks, The Vesuvius Club by Mark Gatiss and The Titian Committee by Iain Pears). I put so much of my identity into being clever and reading intelligent literature that when I can't do either, I don't know who I am. How sad is that? So, right now, the blog's not a book review page or a place of cultural comment.

I am taking and posting photos. I've got a new digital camera, so I expect there'll be a lot more of that happening. They aren't brilliant photos, just OK, occasionally good by a fluke. I like speaking in visuals.

I am endeavouring not to moan too much on the blog. It's boring and achieves nothing. Sometimes there are happy things to say and I say them.

Blog readers (anyone out there?) what would you like to know? Maybe if you ask me questions I'll answer them (no promises, mind).

secret's out

If you want to know what's making me all smiley, go here.

(For those in need of clarification, HP is my sister.)

grinning

grinning, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

This is me today. Can't tell you why, it's not my secret. But I expect you'll find out soon enough.

If you go down to the woods today...

scrunch, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

(Or if you had earlier. It might be a bit dark and scary now.) You might have found me, scrunching leaves and taking photos. It was a beautiful sunny day and I had the Teddy Bears' Picnic stuck in my head.

(There are more if you follow the photo onto flickr.)

home again

posing pigeons, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

I've been down in Exeter for a few days having fun with HP and Steve and t'other HP.

These pigeons were hanging around like delinquent yoof in the middle of the Guildhall Shopping centre. There were loads of them on the wall and even more on the roof of St Pancras church. The church itself is a little corner of quiet surrounded by shops and people.

(It has a sign on the door: 'Please shut the door to keep out pigeons'. They'll just have to worship outdoors.)

I &hearts singing

That is all I have to say.

Good night!

slow down, you move too fast

Thanks for all the lovely birthday greetings!

I'm having one of those days when it feels like someone says "Go!" when you get up and you're rushing around all day. I need to sit and breathe and calm down a bit, I think. Actually, my timetable for the day isn't all that pressured and it will be fine. It's just having three points in one day where I've got to be somewhere at a certain time that's making me feel stressed.

Breathe! Chill! It's going to be fun!

Happy Birthday to Me!

It's my birthday!

Actually it feels like it's been my birthday all weekend, what with my family taking me out for lunch on Saturday and spending yesterday with lots of friends, eating good food, walking in the sunshine and enjoying the beauty of autumn.

But today it really is my birthday. Yay!

stuck in my head today

We used to sing this in primary school. I'm reminded of it on beautiful autumn days like today.

Autumn Days by Estelle White

Autumn days, when the grass is jewelled
And the silk inside a chestnut shell
Jet planes meeting in the air to be refuelled
All these things I love so well

So I mustn't forget
No, I mustn't forget
To say a great big thank you
No, I mustn't forget.

Clouds that look like familiar faces
And a winter's moon with frosted rings
Smell of bacon as I fasten up my laces
And the song the milkman sings.

Whipped-up spray that is rainbow-scattered
And a swallow curving in the sky
Shoes so comfy though they're worn out and they're battered
And the taste of apple pie.

Scent of gardens when the rain's been falling
And a minnow darting down a stream
Picked-up engine that's been stuttering and stalling
And a win for my home team!*

*This line was always shouted as loud as possible.

I had a look to see if I could find a school choir singing it on YouTube. I couldn't, instead here's an instrumental version with illustrative pictures.

I could have danced all night

I probably should have been in bed hours ago. But I've been out, having fun, all dressed up in Bugsy Malone style finery and dancing in a friend's living room at the beginning of a weekend of fun. Tomorrow my family are coming to Cambridge for the day, on Sunday I'm going out for lunch with my friends and on Monday it's my birthday. Which, come to think of it I haven't actually planned anything specific for, but will probably be fun anyway.

I like birthdays! I love this time of year, the light, the colours turning on the trees, the sunny fresh days. I wonder if I'd love it so much if it wasn't my birthday? But it is and I do.

Maybe I should go to bed now.

Night night!

Thursdays are better than Wednesdays

Wednesdays don't like me. Or I don't like them. Today was better. I started a new job (I'm working Thursday and Friday mornings). The people are friendly, the work's straightforward, I'm earning money again. It did tire me out though. I came home and slept in the afternoon. Four hours of concentrating and new people and new surroundings after several months of not doing much can do that to a girl, it seems.

I went for a walk with my friend Liz this evening, as the sun was setting. Stourbridge Common on an autumn evening is beautiful. And after that fresh air and exercise and a good long chat, I think I shall sleep well tonight.

Good night!

words don't work

I'm having one of those days.

Words aren't working. Books don't work, it's like something's broken in my reading system. Talking to God seems pointless, I can't make the words express how I feel. I'm a word-junkie, I live for books. How can they seem so pointless, so empty?

The most meaningful thing I did all day was to lie on a bench, looking up at the sky and listening to the wind in the trees. I can't describe the feeling of the roar of the wind in the trees. It's more an image, a drawing, a scribbling on the atmosphere.

I give up on words. Today, they don't do anything for me.

I want a hug, a kiss, a squeeze, a shoulder to cry on.

ready for bed

ready for bed, originally uploaded by the pig wot flies.

Curling up where it's warm to sleep.

me right now

Tired at the end of a busy, but fun weekend.

As seen on blogs by Rosie, Anne and Mary deB.

1. Take a picture of yourself right now.
2. Don’t change your clothes, don’t fix your hair…just take a picture.
3. Post that picture with NO editing.
4. Post these instructions with your picture.
5. Add it to the Pool.

to sleep, perchance to dream?

I am STILL having weird dreams. I'll try fiddling around with when I take my drugs again, but I'm not sure it makes much difference. It's what happens to me in the early morning I can't take. It's more like hallucinations than dreams. I'm sleeping lightly, but as soon as I close my eyes I'm in dream world. It's as if I have to chose between being awake and sleepy or dreaming and confused. And the unreal stuff seems so real, so tangible. This morning I dreamed I was writing and when I opened my eyes my hand was waving about in the air, writing. So strange.

In other news. I am knitting lots. I've finished the fronts of a cardigan. I have an interview for a part time temp job tomorrow. It's only 8 hours a week, but I think it'll be a good first step back into working. On Friday I'm going to London to the 900th anniversary celebrations of the church I grew up in and went to until I went to uni. It'll be good to see some old friends again.

Life is weird, but God is good. I am still alive, and there are people who love and care for me, for which I am very grateful.

I need to make myself write more. Probably not on the blog, but I keep coming up with ideas I want to get down on paper and work out and then being too scared to sit down and write. So my head gets stuffed, and things don't get sorted out. Not good.

I think I'm scared of reading too. Which is daft. But it's like I can't read any serious books, because I won't understand them, or be able to talk about them properly. I'm not sure. But there's definitely fear there. I dreamt the other day that I was talking to someone about books and they started on a subject I knew nothing about - French poetry, I think - and I just had nothing to say, so I laughed and said something like, "I recognise all those words, but I have idea what you're talking about." Which is totally not what I'd do in real life. I'm a terrible bluffer; I hate to be wrong or to be found wanting. Maybe there's a solution there, to be able to admit when I don't know stuff and laugh about it. And learn. I may not know everything, but I want to. Is that a useful aim in life, or am I just setting myself up to fail? I suppose one can keep learning to the end of life.

What about beyond? Will we still be learning in eternity?

I shall stop now and lay my befuddled head down to sleep. And pray for deep and peaceful rest.

Thank you!

To the lovely anonymous person who paid my next month's rent: Thank you so much!

Thursday Thursday

I thought it was time the last rather plaintive post got moved off the top of the blog. Some days I'm OK, some days I'm not. Actually, the good days mostly outweigh the really bad days. But then not many days are free from hopeless moments.

Yesterday was good. I went swimming first thing in the morning with a couple of friends and then had breakfast in a cafe. I hadn't been swimming in ages and it was good to do some exercise and brilliant to spend breakfast chatting to Lizzie and Rachel. I was fairly worn out for the rest of the day though. I sometimes forget how tired I can get, do too much and wear myself out. It's frustrating. Still, it was good to be tired out by exercise rather than tired out by doing nothing.

I'm doing a lot of knitting, in between looking for and applying for jobs. I'm spending a lot of time on Facebook and reading blogs. I'm barely reading any books. That feels really strange. I've always been a bookworm, but now I seem to have gone off reading. Maybe my brain just needs a break. It's probably getting enough escapist entertainment from my dreams (still vivid, but mostly not scary unless I'm worrying about something.) I'm supposed to be having a break from studying, so I shall just wait and not force myself to read when I don't feel like it. It's just odd.

I don't know what to say

I am alive. I am breathing. I am sad. I am trying not to worry.

I'm going out for a stomp in the woods.