- Drivers who don't indicate at a roundabout - where are you going? I'm not psychic!
- Thin people who whinge about how fat they are. Do you want a smack?
- Adverts with crappy jingles that nevertheless stick in your head and play for days.
- Buying something at full price and then finding it significantly cheaper when it's too late to change.
- Snow. <-- that's a fairly new one that only applies when it lasts more than 1 day, stops people coming to visit and doesn't even get your husband a snow day.
- Cats who won't snuggle when you want them to, but climb all over you when you're trying to type, knit or write.
- Being let down at the last minute
- Passive aggressive behaviour - if you have a problem, just tell me.
- Parents who don't bother to control their children - take control, take responsibility.
- People who expect me to make a quick decision. I'm a ditherer, deal with it!
- Gossip mags - why would I give a rat's arse about people I've never met and have no connection with?
- People who don't understand chocolate addiction - that's not normal.
- Anyone who pushes in front of me in a queue.
- Babies with pierced ears.
- Small girls in adult style clothing - put them in a frilly dress and ankle socks!
- Twins or siblings who've been dressed in the same clothes - way to incubate an identity crisis in later life.
- People who expect you to find something easy just because they do.
Wednesday, 13 January 2010
Monday, 11 January 2010
New Year, Old Me
So, on a brief sojourn to the old country (Surrey) to visit my parents and have a dentist's appointment (must find one in Coventry - thank God I got the all clear though) I decided to have a rootle through some of my treasures (junk) carefully stored (stuffed) into the wardrobe in 'my' (the Spare) room. [Are you bored of the subtitles yet?]
I was hunting for an old party dress that needs a seam stitching up so I can fix it and wear it out dancing and also a heap of old notebooks that I was certain were lurking somewhere about, because I have cunning plans for turning them into little hand-written illustrated guides and recipe books, but more on that plan another time.
I quickly located the notebooks in question and was amused (or should that be horrified) to find some *really* old diaries lumped in with them. Not quite the oldest I possess, although I don;t think I'd mind too much if I never re-discovered the desperate journal from 1996 when, aged 13, I kept a diary that read more like a stalker's record of a boy I fancied, probably because he was the only boy I knew. All girls' schools are, I maintain, most unhealthy. Entries for that one, if I recall correctly run something along the lines of "Saw ***** today. he was wearing a red LaCoste t-shirt and jeans with adidas trainers and he looked really nice. I got close to him and he smelled amazing."
Anyhow, I did recover one from 1999, the year I turned 16 and everything went wrong for me in the way only teenagers can manage it, I think. Ex boyfriends, ex friends, splintered friendship groups, shattered self-esteem, burgeoning sexuality with no outlet and emotional faculties lagging somewhat behind the physical - well. The diaries read like a text book of angst, despair, self-loathing, explosive rage and tearful piteousness. It seems utterly bizarre to link those outpourings to who I am now and, re-reading them, I mostly just want to advise and protect the confused, f*cked up teenager who has set off a whole gamut of emotions in herself and all the teenagers around her and simply doesn't have the firefighting capabilities required to deal with the result.
There's a couple of close friends lost to that inferno of hormone fuelled emotion that I wish I could still call friends, but I'm not sure how I could rekindle the connection without looking like some nostalgic weirdo trying to recover the past... and to be honest I'm not sure one of them would give me the time of day anyway. I just feel a bit sad that I've lost contact with so many of the people who I shared my teen years with. Only one of my current close friends shares that kind of history with me, all the rest are from Uni or later. I suppose I just need to be stoic, though I'm not sure that's the correct word really, and accept that mistakes lead to personal development. I wonder what kind of hideous beast I'd be now if I hadn't arsed up when I was younger.
Sorry about the the slightly reflective end to this post, it started out so well with the mildly comic subtitles. Perhaps I can end on a lighter note, let me see...
Oh yes, I also found a school project from my first year at 'big' school, so it must date from about 1987. "We had pet day at shcool. I saw a god. It waged its tale" Nice to know they're still walking amongst us, huh?
I was hunting for an old party dress that needs a seam stitching up so I can fix it and wear it out dancing and also a heap of old notebooks that I was certain were lurking somewhere about, because I have cunning plans for turning them into little hand-written illustrated guides and recipe books, but more on that plan another time.
I quickly located the notebooks in question and was amused (or should that be horrified) to find some *really* old diaries lumped in with them. Not quite the oldest I possess, although I don;t think I'd mind too much if I never re-discovered the desperate journal from 1996 when, aged 13, I kept a diary that read more like a stalker's record of a boy I fancied, probably because he was the only boy I knew. All girls' schools are, I maintain, most unhealthy. Entries for that one, if I recall correctly run something along the lines of "Saw ***** today. he was wearing a red LaCoste t-shirt and jeans with adidas trainers and he looked really nice. I got close to him and he smelled amazing."
Anyhow, I did recover one from 1999, the year I turned 16 and everything went wrong for me in the way only teenagers can manage it, I think. Ex boyfriends, ex friends, splintered friendship groups, shattered self-esteem, burgeoning sexuality with no outlet and emotional faculties lagging somewhat behind the physical - well. The diaries read like a text book of angst, despair, self-loathing, explosive rage and tearful piteousness. It seems utterly bizarre to link those outpourings to who I am now and, re-reading them, I mostly just want to advise and protect the confused, f*cked up teenager who has set off a whole gamut of emotions in herself and all the teenagers around her and simply doesn't have the firefighting capabilities required to deal with the result.
There's a couple of close friends lost to that inferno of hormone fuelled emotion that I wish I could still call friends, but I'm not sure how I could rekindle the connection without looking like some nostalgic weirdo trying to recover the past... and to be honest I'm not sure one of them would give me the time of day anyway. I just feel a bit sad that I've lost contact with so many of the people who I shared my teen years with. Only one of my current close friends shares that kind of history with me, all the rest are from Uni or later. I suppose I just need to be stoic, though I'm not sure that's the correct word really, and accept that mistakes lead to personal development. I wonder what kind of hideous beast I'd be now if I hadn't arsed up when I was younger.
Sorry about the the slightly reflective end to this post, it started out so well with the mildly comic subtitles. Perhaps I can end on a lighter note, let me see...
Oh yes, I also found a school project from my first year at 'big' school, so it must date from about 1987. "We had pet day at shcool. I saw a god. It waged its tale" Nice to know they're still walking amongst us, huh?
Friday, 8 January 2010
An Ode to Snowy England
Snow has fallen,
Like the song.
Three days already
Feels too long.
The cats both love it,
It seems so sweet,
'Til they use your lap
To warm their feet.
The roads are iced,
The car won't start,
You're stuck at home,
Like some old fart.
The whole thing's rubbish
When the novelty's gone.
It's nearly a month
Since the bins were done.
I'm bored already -
Who'd have thunk?
Without my computer
I'd be sunk.
If it wasn't for shopping
On the internet,
I'd go back to bed
And hibernate.
Like the song.
Three days already
Feels too long.
The cats both love it,
It seems so sweet,
'Til they use your lap
To warm their feet.
The roads are iced,
The car won't start,
You're stuck at home,
Like some old fart.
The whole thing's rubbish
When the novelty's gone.
It's nearly a month
Since the bins were done.
I'm bored already -
Who'd have thunk?
Without my computer
I'd be sunk.
If it wasn't for shopping
On the internet,
I'd go back to bed
And hibernate.
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
Improvising
So in these days of dreary chill there is one small upside, for me at least - I'm able to increase my storage space. Ok, I know that sounds weird, but wait and see...
At the front of the house we have what I call an 'airlock' - a small enclosed porch, so you have to pass through two front doors to gain access to the house. Not only does this provide added security and offer a very helpful access point when you have two small kittens you're trying to keep inside the house, but it also doubles up as a greenhouse and larder/'fridge. You see, as I said yesterday I had to bring all my pots in from the garden and I haven't that many places to keep them. The airlock provides an ideal spot, because it is bright and not as cold as it is outside, since it is brick and double-glazing.
Despite the brick and double glazing, it is un-heated, which means that it is far chillier in the airlock than in my lovely warm front hall (also helps keep the cold out of the house when you're going in or out). Therefore the temperatures in there are very much in line with what you might expect to find in a refridgerator, which is why, when you come in through the first front door, you are confronted not only with hubby's smelly running trainers (better there than inside the house, believe me!) but also with two large potted plants, a container of chilli con carne, a 4 pint bottle of milk, a large bag of carrots and a block of cheddar cheese. It's also a very handy place for cooling things down before refridgerating them - much like an old fashioned larder - without just sticking them in the 'fridge, which costs money as the 'fridge struggles to cool itself down again.
I have also, just this minute, stuck my large Le Creuset casserole onto a cork mat outside the back door. I've been boiling up a chicken carcass for stock and soup and, since I want to make soup out of it later, needed to cool it down quickly. What better place than outside in the settling snow?! Brilliant!
When I grow up I want a house with a real larder so I have these options in the summer, too!
At the front of the house we have what I call an 'airlock' - a small enclosed porch, so you have to pass through two front doors to gain access to the house. Not only does this provide added security and offer a very helpful access point when you have two small kittens you're trying to keep inside the house, but it also doubles up as a greenhouse and larder/'fridge. You see, as I said yesterday I had to bring all my pots in from the garden and I haven't that many places to keep them. The airlock provides an ideal spot, because it is bright and not as cold as it is outside, since it is brick and double-glazing.
Despite the brick and double glazing, it is un-heated, which means that it is far chillier in the airlock than in my lovely warm front hall (also helps keep the cold out of the house when you're going in or out). Therefore the temperatures in there are very much in line with what you might expect to find in a refridgerator, which is why, when you come in through the first front door, you are confronted not only with hubby's smelly running trainers (better there than inside the house, believe me!) but also with two large potted plants, a container of chilli con carne, a 4 pint bottle of milk, a large bag of carrots and a block of cheddar cheese. It's also a very handy place for cooling things down before refridgerating them - much like an old fashioned larder - without just sticking them in the 'fridge, which costs money as the 'fridge struggles to cool itself down again.
I have also, just this minute, stuck my large Le Creuset casserole onto a cork mat outside the back door. I've been boiling up a chicken carcass for stock and soup and, since I want to make soup out of it later, needed to cool it down quickly. What better place than outside in the settling snow?! Brilliant!
When I grow up I want a house with a real larder so I have these options in the summer, too!
Monday, 4 January 2010
Engagement Envy
OK, so I've been noticing something strange lately. I was one of the first of my friends and contemporaries to get married and now they're all starting to get engaged I'm finding myself envious of it all. Envious of the excitement, the newness of calling them your 'fiance' instead of boyfriend, the hysterical squealing with girlfriends and the mental designing of the dress, not to mention the trips to dress shops to try them on.
I'm not sure how much of this is related to my engagement, in which I was disappointed for several reasons. I just didn't feel like it was greeted with that much excitement or pleasure by many of my friends and family. My best friend was great - she came straight over and made a big fuss of me, but most everyone else just seemed... blase. It still upsets me now when I think about it. None of our parents or extended family, most of our friends, why weren't any of them more thrilled for us?
I'm jealous, too, that these newly affianced couples have that magical wedding day still to come: the best day of my life. Magical is the only word to describe it - I felt like a princess, like I could do no wrong and everyone was happy for us and with us. I wish I could live it over and over again. I hate that two such massive events are past me already and wonder what, after having my first baby, will be left for me to experience that will be such a massive landmark in my life. It's making me fear ageing at only 26 - not because I'm scared of getting old in itself, but because I'm scared of no more big events with me at the centre of them. Does that make me selfish or narcissistic? I don't know. I just know that there aren't that many moments in my life where I feel truly special and important and I cherish those few that do occur. The rest of the time I'm just the supporting act in someone else's life.
I'm not sure how much of this is related to my engagement, in which I was disappointed for several reasons. I just didn't feel like it was greeted with that much excitement or pleasure by many of my friends and family. My best friend was great - she came straight over and made a big fuss of me, but most everyone else just seemed... blase. It still upsets me now when I think about it. None of our parents or extended family, most of our friends, why weren't any of them more thrilled for us?
I'm jealous, too, that these newly affianced couples have that magical wedding day still to come: the best day of my life. Magical is the only word to describe it - I felt like a princess, like I could do no wrong and everyone was happy for us and with us. I wish I could live it over and over again. I hate that two such massive events are past me already and wonder what, after having my first baby, will be left for me to experience that will be such a massive landmark in my life. It's making me fear ageing at only 26 - not because I'm scared of getting old in itself, but because I'm scared of no more big events with me at the centre of them. Does that make me selfish or narcissistic? I don't know. I just know that there aren't that many moments in my life where I feel truly special and important and I cherish those few that do occur. The rest of the time I'm just the supporting act in someone else's life.
Too Early?
I know that in real terms winter hasn't even reached the beginning of the middle yet, but there's something about the post-Christmas period, especially when combined with this very unseasonable bright January sunshine, that promises you Spring, just around the corner.
As a kicker I had to bring all my pots inside, since the temperature has been a very seasonable -6 degrees most nights. The unexpected temperate warmth of the kitchen has tickled my bulbs into waking up and beautiful pea-green shoots have been poking their cheerful little spikes out of the dark brown compost. Every time I go into the kitchen and see them, an exciting little thrill runs through me. It's like having a crush and running into him unexpectedly - that same little blip and the shiver of something powerful and out of control about to happen.
Soon we'll be planting seeds and coaxing them into glorious life as well. In my imagination the garden is already bursting forth with green shoots, flowers and gorgeous, glamorous colour and life.
Spring may not be here just yet, but its potential is welling up inside me and the promise of a new year carries with it a promise of new life in all shapes.
Happy New Year - and here's to a luscious Spring!
As a kicker I had to bring all my pots inside, since the temperature has been a very seasonable -6 degrees most nights. The unexpected temperate warmth of the kitchen has tickled my bulbs into waking up and beautiful pea-green shoots have been poking their cheerful little spikes out of the dark brown compost. Every time I go into the kitchen and see them, an exciting little thrill runs through me. It's like having a crush and running into him unexpectedly - that same little blip and the shiver of something powerful and out of control about to happen.
Soon we'll be planting seeds and coaxing them into glorious life as well. In my imagination the garden is already bursting forth with green shoots, flowers and gorgeous, glamorous colour and life.Spring may not be here just yet, but its potential is welling up inside me and the promise of a new year carries with it a promise of new life in all shapes.
Happy New Year - and here's to a luscious Spring!
Sunday, 3 January 2010
Shop Review: The Cotton Nappy Company
The Cotton Nappy Company
One of my close friends, Pia, is expecting her first baby at the beginning of March. For me, his birth is a first also, as none of my other friends or close relations has any children. My sister-in-law has a son, but I wasn't close enough to her to really be involved in the pregnancy, birth or raising of him in any meaningful way, so Pia's son is a really big deal to me.
Yesterday I undertook a little commission from her to buy some nappies for him. She had found a company called The Cotton Nappy Company that trades online, but is based in Leamington Spa, just 20 minutes away from me. TCNC specialises in eco-friendly nappies (diapers) and accessories for the green parent. I was going into Leamington anyway, so it was easy enough for me to trot along there with Pia's (very detailed) list!
The shop is a cute little place tucked away in a back street. It is housed in an old Victorian building and has a square footage of less than 30, I swear. Wonky wooden floors are set off by simple white painted walls and gorgeous chalky pastels on every shelf - pale mint, rose, duck egg and primrose in all shades sit piled up on shelves in the form of soft little nappies, with a small range of toys, clothes and nappy buckets (in pastel - so much prettier than primaries). A curved desk sits right in front of the door, fronted with shelves and containers holding accessories like cloth wipes and nappy liners.
Behind the desk is a door marked 'Changing Room' in pastel-painted wooden letters, with a small room next to it laid out with comfortable chairs, small tables and shelves around the top holding fabric boxes with extra stock in. It is obvious from its lay-out that a lot of thought has gone into this little shop and its purpose and it is a very welcoming, peaceful space. There wasn't even any music playing, which made a pleasant change from the incessant noise of every other shop I had endured that morning!
After I entered the shop and fished out my list the lady behind the counter, who turned out to be the shop's owner, Anna, stepped in to help me out. Perhaps it was the slightly desperate expression on my face as I surveyed the impressive range of brands and tried to figure out where to start, but she took the list off me and asked me a couple of pertinent questions. Finding me completely inequipped to answer them sensibly she asked for Pia's number so she could discuss it with the horse's mouth, as it were.
I was more than happy to hand over responsibility and Anna soon lined up the products on the counter. Three different nappies in pale greens, with a roll of bio-degradable, flushable liners. Her help and enthusiasm were boundless, enjoining me to make sure Pia knew she could call with any questions. Apparently the shop itself has only been open 5 months, though the company has been trading online for 4 and a half years. As well as running the shop Anna is a full-time midwife with two small daughters - she must be insanely busy!
I was immensely impressed with the shop and, if I were to grade my reviews out of ten (I need a milla-scale, wonder what that could be? 1 dog through to 9 cats?) I would have to give it a 9, the only reason for it not getting a 10 being that a) according to my mum, only God is perfect and b)I need to leave myself somewhere to go in case I come across an even better shop. But trust me, it was a pretty great shop, especially if you can visit it in person.
Pros
- Friendly and helpful
- Available nationwide through its online store
- Offers a wide range of nappies and advice to accompany them
- Bonus services = 'Nappuccino' mornings where you can socialise and find out more
- Discounts available
- Attractive premises with good parking nearby
- Baby-friendly premises
Cons
- Small step up into the shop and a narrow doorway, which might offer some access problems
- Only one branch
One of my close friends, Pia, is expecting her first baby at the beginning of March. For me, his birth is a first also, as none of my other friends or close relations has any children. My sister-in-law has a son, but I wasn't close enough to her to really be involved in the pregnancy, birth or raising of him in any meaningful way, so Pia's son is a really big deal to me.
Yesterday I undertook a little commission from her to buy some nappies for him. She had found a company called The Cotton Nappy Company that trades online, but is based in Leamington Spa, just 20 minutes away from me. TCNC specialises in eco-friendly nappies (diapers) and accessories for the green parent. I was going into Leamington anyway, so it was easy enough for me to trot along there with Pia's (very detailed) list!
The shop is a cute little place tucked away in a back street. It is housed in an old Victorian building and has a square footage of less than 30, I swear. Wonky wooden floors are set off by simple white painted walls and gorgeous chalky pastels on every shelf - pale mint, rose, duck egg and primrose in all shades sit piled up on shelves in the form of soft little nappies, with a small range of toys, clothes and nappy buckets (in pastel - so much prettier than primaries). A curved desk sits right in front of the door, fronted with shelves and containers holding accessories like cloth wipes and nappy liners.
Behind the desk is a door marked 'Changing Room' in pastel-painted wooden letters, with a small room next to it laid out with comfortable chairs, small tables and shelves around the top holding fabric boxes with extra stock in. It is obvious from its lay-out that a lot of thought has gone into this little shop and its purpose and it is a very welcoming, peaceful space. There wasn't even any music playing, which made a pleasant change from the incessant noise of every other shop I had endured that morning!
After I entered the shop and fished out my list the lady behind the counter, who turned out to be the shop's owner, Anna, stepped in to help me out. Perhaps it was the slightly desperate expression on my face as I surveyed the impressive range of brands and tried to figure out where to start, but she took the list off me and asked me a couple of pertinent questions. Finding me completely inequipped to answer them sensibly she asked for Pia's number so she could discuss it with the horse's mouth, as it were.
I was more than happy to hand over responsibility and Anna soon lined up the products on the counter. Three different nappies in pale greens, with a roll of bio-degradable, flushable liners. Her help and enthusiasm were boundless, enjoining me to make sure Pia knew she could call with any questions. Apparently the shop itself has only been open 5 months, though the company has been trading online for 4 and a half years. As well as running the shop Anna is a full-time midwife with two small daughters - she must be insanely busy!
I was immensely impressed with the shop and, if I were to grade my reviews out of ten (I need a milla-scale, wonder what that could be? 1 dog through to 9 cats?) I would have to give it a 9, the only reason for it not getting a 10 being that a) according to my mum, only God is perfect and b)I need to leave myself somewhere to go in case I come across an even better shop. But trust me, it was a pretty great shop, especially if you can visit it in person.
Pros
- Friendly and helpful
- Available nationwide through its online store
- Offers a wide range of nappies and advice to accompany them
- Bonus services = 'Nappuccino' mornings where you can socialise and find out more
- Discounts available
- Attractive premises with good parking nearby
- Baby-friendly premises
Cons
- Small step up into the shop and a narrow doorway, which might offer some access problems
- Only one branch
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
