Some vague Utopia

Roses

2011-11-19T22:16:00.000Z

I took this picture last year, but here it is now. Just because.

Hope you're enjoying your Sunday!

How we roll...

2011-11-12T23:17:00.000Z

Thinking about posting these shots it occurred to me I may as well just call this blog "Cute pictures of the kid. Dot com." I suppose the thing is though, we go out and he's like "Wow! Check out these leaves! They look like DINOSAURS! And you can kick them!" which is great, and I'm like "Check out the LIGHT! Right, kiddo, stand THERE, just THERE that's right, in the good light. Those trees are going to make some great bokeh. You know what kind of leaf that is? Sycamore. SYCAMORE. Yeah, it DOES look kinda like a dinosaur. One second while I meter off your skin. They're not actaully called Dinosaur Leaves though. SICK-A-MORE. OK. Dinosaur leaves it is."

And that's how we roll. Come to think of it, that's pretty much how we've rolled for the last three years, 10 and half months. Cheers kiddo, you're a great model. And you've taught me a lot about taking pictures. Here's to the next x years until you get annoyed with it and start showing me the hand. I'll probably still take pictures of the hand, just so you know.

ps - I was so pleased with that last shot 'til Richard came in and said "Clockwork Orange". Ha! It is a bit.

golden hour

2011-11-07T16:45:00.004Z

Oh, wow. I've been reading A Practical Wedding since forever. It's the yin to the WIC's (that's wedding industrial complex to the uninitiated) yang. It's the place smart people go when they're nagivating the rough waters of being pre-engaged, and engaged, and married. And today my blog's been referenced in Lauren's post. Pass the smelling salts, I may require reviving.

Also, aprops of nothing, William and I went for a walk just now, and the light at sunrise and sunset just now is STUNNING. It almost makes how Baltic it is worthwhile.

Bwahahaha

2011-10-03T23:49:00.000+01:00

so, I got me a NEW LENS!

It's a wide-angle (17mm at it's widest), so there's an inevitable bit of barrel distortion, though not an excessive amount for a lens of it's class. You can see it in William's big honker here... I kinda like it.

And... it came with FREE SNOW!

-which belongs on the floor, naturally.

Doors of the mind

2011-09-27T12:41:00.003+01:00

I was browsing the internet today, came across a relationships forum where a lonely and miserable young woman had posted a thread. Her husband has gradually isolated her from the world. She has no telephone, no contact with her friends and family, has been moved to a new neighborhood. She could wander the streets with her dog, but he is now telling her to wait for him to come home to walk the dog together, so even that freedom is being curtailed.

The thing was, he's away to work a lot. She has little access to money, true, but he isn't physically interring her: she is a prisoner of her own mind. To you or me it would be the easiest thing in the world to take a rucksack and the dog and leave. To her, it is the hardest.*

It got me thinking about how we become imprisoned by the expectations of others , by patterns of thinking, by ourselves. I started to wonder, what doors are there in my mind? I'm overweight, unfit, not the person I want to be in many ways. But how far are these things I am dissatisfied with in my own life, the ways I behave but don't like, how far could I open that door and just walk out? No-one forces me to eat badly, to move less than I should.

Could I lose weight, get fitter, improve my photography, just by choosing to, simply by opening a mental door? It's a powerful thought.

*internet forums can be poisonous things, notoriously agressive and spiteful places. But this lady has had nothing but encouragement, an offer of a place to stay, lists of women's shelters near her. Restores your faith in humanity a bit.

2011-09-12T11:03:00.001+01:00

Ben and Pete sit while Charlotte and Sadie blow bubbles.

BEN

They seem to love bubbles.

PETE

They go ape-shit over bubbles.

BEN

They’re really going ape-shit.

PETE

That’s an incredible thing about a child. What’s so great about bubbles?

BEN

They float. You can pop them. I mean,

I get it. I get it.

PETE

I wish I liked anything as much as my kids like bubbles.

BEN

That’s sad.

PETE

It’s totally sad. Their smiling faces just point out your inability to enjoy anything.

Judd Apatow, Knocked Up (2007)

Banana Bag & Bodice at the Hidden Cafe

2011-09-04T21:44:00.000+01:00

I seriously could not stop smiling today.

See, moving to a new place, even when two of your best friends live there already, I find it... socially difficult. I like people, and I like hanging out, and sometimes you just sort of click with a vibe and an ethos but I wasn't sure if it really felt right for us. Possibly a little lonely, especially on the weekend when Richard and our friends are all working and there isn't the routine of nursery, even.

It's a little plain village. Two corner shops, some pubs which we would probably go to occassionally if we were childless. A play park and a little wood. Zumba on a monday night (we tried it, it was very.... jiggly), possibly bingo some other time (we didn't try that), a charity cafe. Annual flower show, village hall art exhibition. A travelling puppet show came to visit a few months ago, did a show, which was nice. Old people's home. Friendly people who speak a dialect I don't quite understand yet.

Quite a lot of rain, drip, drip, incy wincy spider rain rain go away.

Then, two weeks ago, we discovered a hidden cafe half a mile out. It's up a little country lane, no sign it's there. We were slightly miffed when we found he'd been open three months already.

So we toddled up today, William and I, we knew a band were coming to visit. And I had an coffee and William had an icecream and a vinyl record played and we had a chat, and then the Banana Bag & Bodice crew turned up so Mike, the owner, lowered the steps to the mezzanine with a rope on a pulley and took the record off, and they all came in and said Hi and fell on the organ and the accordian and felt the need to get the trombone out of the car and play some tunes, even though there were only a handful of us there and it was FECKING AWESOME. Achem.

They're from New York and California by the way, but they're touring all over. And if you ever get the chance to go see you should, because if the aforementioned awesomeage and also just being some of the nicest people I've stumbled across, ever.

More on the hidden cafe later, there's so much more to that place.

Seriously. Could not stop smiling.

1/250

2011-08-31T11:05:00.001+01:00

I don't know what's putting me in this mood: some combination of listening to King Creosote and Jon Hopkin's aching-beautiful, nostalgic album Diamond Mine and editing some photographs I took at a wedding a few weeks ago.

"First Watch" has a recording of a Fife tea room, and the sea and seagulls, like catching the scent in the air of someone you used to know in the supermarket.

They say the Dutch artists, you know the ones who used to produce such detailed still lives of things like fruit and flowers, all at the start of decay, maybe a watch or skull somewhere to hammer home the point, they say they were obsessed by time. More real than life. It's funny, you know, by stopping time, they were really drawing attention to your own life flying by you like a scent on the wind.

The thing about the decisive moment is, you need to be so fast and ready. It can come from nowhere. A micro-expression, a gesture, the light breaks through for the clouds and shines that way for a split-second. I wonder if thinking slows things down. Oh that's nic...gone.

I saw King Creosote in concert once. I say concert, it was the wee back bar in the union, we sat on the floor. The Pictish Trail, lovely Jonny, played too. I still owe him a few quid for albums he gave me. Haven't seen any of them in six years, apart from Richard of course, and Aidan, who is the same. But different. Of course.

Six years. How did that happen?

image: Mum and William, 1/250 second, 16:05:51, 27th July 2011.

August

2011-08-25T17:55:00.000+01:00

It stops raining in Scotland, it does!

Occasionally.

Macduff aquarium

2011-07-20T00:37:00.000+01:00

The north-east of aberdeenshire is dominated by the cold, crashing, grey and extraordinarily fertile waters of the North Sea. The sheer variety of life produced is astonishing, and it's cool and fascinating and ever-so-slightly *creepy* at the same time. Like aliens, but real that you can touch in a touch tank at the aquarium. Love it.

Details

2011-07-06T20:30:00.001+01:00

So... we moved to Aberdeenshire. We discovered we have far more *stuff* than we thought. And William had trouble settling into his nursery.

But... things are going good! Richard's enjoying his job, particularly the teaching side of things, and I've had the opportunity to do a little more wedding work, which I *love*. Such a wedding sap, there's just something about them.

Here are some details..

at fyvie castle

2011-05-17T19:20:00.000+01:00

It's not what you wear

2011-04-13T21:30:00.002+01:00

-so much as how you wear it.

**edit - what did blogger do to the picture first time I posted?! Apologies and swears.

Moving

2011-02-23T23:49:00.001Z

Um, hello blog. Sorry. I know, it's been a good while.

While I've been away, I tried a sales-type job for a while. By which I mean for a month and a bit. Well, you know, my photography wish list isn't going to pay for itself. Sadly (or not) I don't think the home improvements industry is for me... but hopefully I'll be getting some more photo work soon, excitements! Meanwhile, Richard landed himself a new job running workshops for a charity. So we're moving, and by moving I don't mean down the road, I mean a 3-4 hour drive away. It's stressful (so much admin! So much STUFF!), and scary, and it means leaving behind a place and a set of people I've come to love. It also means a much nicer house, being closer to some wonderful people, and a chance to prove ourselves creatively.

Well, meet you on the other side...

Leaves

2011-01-28T17:08:00.003Z

Inspired by anna's animation and the kind request of my spare thoughts for more pictures

The track is Gomez "Let it be"

2011-01-09T21:44:00.000Z

On days like today it's good to get the camera out and remember what's important.

I wasn't *aiming* to look like a garden gnome btw, it just sort of happened.

!

2010-12-27T18:44:00.000Z

William found one of those paper crowns you get in christmas crackers today and made me put it on.

W - Mummy! You look jus' like.... a QUEEN!

Me (very touched) - Oh, thank you darling!

W (imperiously, with dismissive gesture) - Go on den, go on!

Back to the washing-up it was. I kept the crown on, like...

Merry Christmas

2010-12-24T18:05:00.000Z

Tonight we'll be hanging up William's stocking by the, um, halogen heater, leaving out a carrot for Rudolph and a mince pie for Santa and hoping he comes *cough*. We'll be opening pressies in the morning, phoning family, eating something yummy for breakfast then a not-too-strenous Christmas dinner. Stilton and crackers later, not that it's all about the food. Ok, it's all about the food.

I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas x

Discipline

2010-12-04T11:07:00.000Z

With increasing frequency these days, the little guy has been displaying some rather naughty behaviour. The thing is, he's so young and cute he can quite often get away with it. Specificially, he's been making an almighty MESS by upending things - bags of toys, boxes of cereal, and then refusing to help tidy it all up.

It all started to come to a head yesterday, I was starting to clear up the jar of marbles all over the shop when I left the room for a second and returned to find he'd upended chalk, crayons and felt tips, all strewn on top of the mess I'd been trying to clear.

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggghhhh.

I lost the plot enough to shout, but whether fortunately or unfortunately William finds me about as scary as a wet fish. Lowering my voice, we had some serious words, culminating with a warning of something we have never felt the need to threaten before. The Naughty Step. I warned him and gave him til the count of 5 to start tidying, and he watched my Very Serious Counting with amused indifference.

Arrrrrrrrrghhhhhh.

Observing that I was cross, he attempted to leviate the situation by being a Very Scary Dinosaur, and when *that* didn't work he was the Dancing Owl.

Naughty step.

Amazingly, he stayed on the step, and apologised when I came to collect him. Ahhhh. Hugs all round, let's get this tidied up then.

No!

No?!

Warning. Countdown. Naughty step part 2.

And that's when we had some very lovely and unexpected vistors and our little war of attrition took a time out.

Until this morning, when the little, um, darling, when asked to put away his letters on the dining table, quite deliberately pushed them off and declared that Mummy can do it (pick them up).

It took 6 applications of the Naughty Corridor. Every time when Daddy came out to him he would say, cheerily "Hello! Are you very happy?" and the reply would come that, no, we were Very Sad for he would not tidy up, and are you ready to tidy up.

No.

Ok then, you'll be in the corridor for another two minutes.

And so it went on. On time 3 Richard was told to Go Away for there would be No Tidyup.

On time 5 he decided to change tack and declared that Yes, there would be Tidyup, only to demand Mummy do it once confronted with the mess. 1, 2, 3, 4... 5, naughty corridor.

THEN he tided up, and we made a massive happy fuss.

Maaaannn what a kerfuffle. At least I got to eat a very peaceful breakfast as William stood in the corridor....

Never mind the snow....

2010-12-03T12:49:00.000Z

For me, it's all about the epic icicles.

Photography in the snow

2010-11-29T23:11:00.000Z

I'm not sure how I feel about the snow.

For a start, it meant half an hour's work digitally reconstructing Richard's right nostril because a snowflake feel awkwardly. Harumph.

He's taken against the burglar hat now, by the way, and is going for the full Dr Zhivago in a furry one instead.

The light's actually lovely for portraits, the combination of soft sunlight coming through the cloud, diffusion through the snow and reflection off the ground makes for a natural high-key studio. But my camera's not waterproof so there have only been a few shots (Need an umbrella wielding assistant - ha! Or a Canon 5DMkII and the L-series 50mm - haha! Or the snow to stop - hahaha!). And it took me a little while to figure out what I was doing wrong the first time I brought it out. Everything came out slightly underexposed you see - the camera naturally wants to even things out at an average of 18% grey. Which means it will tend to underexpose a naturally high-key snow scene, I needed to bump the exposure compensation up about 2/3 stop. And I need to look out my fingerless gloves, I'm just not fast or precise enough in normal ones! A combination of clumsiness and the falling snow frequently snookered my attempts to focus...

Well, I guess that's just the nature of snow: brilliant and annoying at the same time. We have a foot and a half now and it's coming in avalances off the roofs of neighbouring houses, we can't get anywhere and everyone seems to be complaining about it with a wee smile on their face.

Posin'

2010-11-28T18:52:00.000Z

OK, so it *was* snowing today, and I've decided to put up these pictures from last week instead.

Shut up, that's why ;P

Maybe I should explain "shut up that's why": it's a Simpsons quote. And it's what R and I say to one another when we in the wrong and we know it.

So.

The first two pictures made me smile, cos they reminded me of Ben Stiller in that movie where he's being a male model. Strike a pose!

More from Willows

2010-11-17T23:06:00.000Z

We were up in the (rather picturesque) wilds of the north for Halloween this year, and were caught the Willows Animal Sanctuary Halloween Spooktacular. Who knew that cute animals and creepy fun could go together so well? My favourite bit was when Edgar the Vampire interjected into his own riddle to explain to the children that spiders aren't scary in *this* country, just Africa and places like that.

William was mostly into the chocolate eyeballs.

At Willows

2010-11-17T21:36:00.001Z

Autumn leaves

2010-10-18T20:53:00.001+01:00

Today at the park.

2010-10-14T13:43:00.000+01:00

Lots to do, but you know obviously fantasy clothes shopping for autumn/winter on the interwebs is a priority. Me and my imaginary funds have been hitting up joules, anthropologie, net a porter, burberry, and gap. It's been fun!

Next time I have Important Stuff I Should be Doing, I might do the same for William and Richard. Mind you I'm sure they'd prefer some toys...

2010-10-04T17:31:00.000+01:00

Sometimes I look at dogs and cats and I envy them. Really I do. For a dog, life's simple. Take this one for example - goin' for a walk, takin' my ball. Happy. Simple. Careless.

Or a cat. A fat cat perhaps, just having a sleep by the fire, or having a stretch.

Dogs and cats, they don't worry about money, or housework, failing at life or anything like that you know, they're happy in the simple moments, without a fug of distraction and worry.

Mind you, I do have opposable thumbs, so it's not all bad.

Elcho Castle

2010-09-25T19:27:00.000+01:00

Just a few snapshots from a great day out we had at Elcho Castle, near Perth. There's a house behind the big boat there, right on the river; it looks like such a peaceful place to live.

Inside there are a few more traces than ordinarily survive in these ruined Scottish towers, fancy pasterwork and some fleur de lis mouldings. Mostly of course it's all gone now, but it gave me this sort of surprising sense of the place as it was, with woodwork and big furniture and all in a sort of renaissance style that somehow seems surprising for a Scottish fortress.

They have an orchard outside, and while we were exploring the ground floor, so dark you need to use a torch, we entered the old castle pantry to discover the delicous smell of apples. Of course, it's still the perfect place to keep them fresh and good, and the corner was stuffed with fruits in boxes.

Later, Richard obligingly fetched some blackberries, which I lightly stewed with cloves and cardamom and made into a crumble; effing gorgeous!

Monarch of the Glen

2010-09-07T00:22:00.000+01:00

We've been at a few weddings this summer, it's been well loved up! Last weekend was Arverikie House i.e. "Glenbogle" where they filmed "Monarch of the Glen". To be honest I'm not sure the tv series did it justice (nor me!) it was just. breathtaking.

Too many pictures to blog easily, so please to excercise your clicking finger and take a looksee here.

Plum job

2010-09-01T18:43:00.000+01:00

It's been raining. A lot. Also, the house needs a lot of housework done, and I'm not in the mood. Lazy, but true. Later. But today William and I went OUT which is something we've not been doing enough lately, and visted with our friends Alison, Rocky and Stella down the road. They're lucky enough to have a garden which is what, 200 feet long? Very long. A big old strip of it, behind their old high street home, thankfully devoid of access otherwise it'd have been built on already, filled up with mature Newburgh Orchard. Newburgh's mild climate and gentle north-facing slopes seem to be good for orchards because at this time of year the town is heaving with the sort of sweet yellow-pink-red plums you rarely find in shops. Alison has literally tons of them in her garden and she's manfully planning to sell, chutney and jam as many as humanly possible. It's a tall order. Her daughter Stella has enterprisingly set up a wee stall out the front of their house selling them, coming into the garden occassionally to shriek "More plums!!"

We chatted about plum preservation and wondered how they used to sell them in the Olden Days, picked plums and ate bread and cheese with them and the kids bounced on the trampoline and William chased the ducks and played with windfall and didn't want to leave. Ever.

I'm thinking about just packing this "house" business in altogether and living in a yurt at the bottom of their garden. Who needs running water anyway? And we can just live on fruit for a bit, right?

Presents for memories

2010-08-16T23:12:00.000+01:00

Lookeee! Look at what we did! We bought a cbeebies make and do magazine and made and did a seaside scene. Let me tell you, it was bloody fiddly stuff. William was very patient as he watched me muck around with scissors and glue and next time, let me tell you, there shall be no glitter without putting newspaper down and donning protective bee-keepers equipment. That stuff is the invention of Lucifer I tell you, it gets in your eyes, on your skin, your clothes, ingrained into the table...

All great fun, and His Nibs did lots of sticking down and folding and put the donkey for a sleep in the hammock between the palm trees and insisted on a flag for the boat. I'm sure he enjoyed it almost as much as me.

When I was a little girl, Mum bought me red shoes. It later transpired that her own girlish passion for red shoes had been thwarted by her mother, so it was sort of a belated wish fulfilment. Though she point-blank refused to indulge me with patent leather ones - that was beyond the pale. Ummmm, patent leather. Now, the red shoes were cool. In fact, I had red leather pixie boots for primary school, worn with grey opaque tights, a grey pleated skirt, white shirt and school tie. Small kids don't wear school ties much anymore, sort of a shame. Anyway.

My big brother who loved Lego now has small boys with extensive Lego collections. He'll help out, you know, when they're making stuff. My other brother bought his small daughter a rather fancy Scaletrix set for Christmas, I think it was, she loved it, do did he!

It just made me think, sometimes we parent a memory of ourselves. Which isn't, in my humble, a bad thing, to keep the small child you were on consultation. They know how it feels, to be little.

Come to think of it, perhaps my niece would like a pair of patent leather shoes for Christmas. Or another pretty party dress, I have a definate weakness for those...

2010-08-15T23:34:00.000+01:00

Just some stuff which makes me smile!

Birthday!

2010-08-03T11:40:00.000+01:00

William's real birthday is just a few days from Christmas, which tends to overshadow it somewhat. So we have a summer party for him instead, the idea being that you can get outside and have a barbeque and it's brilliant. Of course, this year it chucked it down. Hard.

Neva mind, as William would say. He wasn't bothered, it was quite exciting to stand in the covered alleyway and watch it come down.

Hats, dancing, bubbles, balloons, cake!

Swiftly followed by a tiredy-pie breakdown, naturally. William had to have a power nap before he could carry on!

Wedding present fail

2010-07-24T11:09:00.000+01:00

The fabtabolous My Spare Thoughts is getting hitched today. Waaaa! Much excitement :D

So, naturally, obviously, who wouldn't, I messed about with the camera for an hour or two at half eleven last night trying to take a decent photo of some pretty gerberas Richard gave me the other day.... and it just wasn't happening.

So, MST, this one's for you instead.

Happy Weddingday!

yesterday in the kitchen

2010-07-20T22:05:00.001+01:00

Walking the walk

2010-07-14T21:08:00.003+01:00

I walked across England and all I took was this lousy photo (oh, and a few more slightly better ones when I nicked Oli's camera). I brought my camera, intended on using it, even, but then everyone else had theirs and it was sort of intimidating and by heck I was slow enough already without stopping every two minutes to fiddle. As I smile and look through everyone else's record I know it was the wrong decision - everyone had a slightly different Walk and I should have made more of a record of ours. Regrets, I've had a few, but here are some Walk highlights and low points before memory fades from view:

Day One, through Newcastle

We mostly followed the course of the lazy Tyne, passing great flour mills and fish markets, now used for arts complexes or nightclubs or left empty. People hanging from the rigging of Tall Ships, caught like flies caught in a strange and incomprehensible but deeply organised web. We marvelled at the ingenuity and were grateful that some keen sailors are keeping the skills and knowledge alive, for when the Oil Runs Out and we all have to revert to being pushed across the surface of the planet by pieces of cloth and wood and rope again. Perhaps, probably, it won't happen. But still.

Day Two, Heddon-on-Wall to Greencarts

Into the country now. Once we caught up with them, we spent the day walking with Oli, Jo, Ellie and Phil. Phil kindly waited for us as we stopped, faffed, snacked and generally kept our spirits up with some good old british smut. "May I have a handful of your golden salted nuts? Why thank you."

Day Three, Greencarts to Winshields

Into the middle section of the walk, agricultural at first and increasingly stunning, with the second half of the walk opening out into classic "wall" country, the wall itself snaking over the edge of the crags and ridges, up and down, up and down and u... you get the idea.

Earlier that day, we came across a rather handsome bull consider getting, um, friendly with a cow. Though she was rather more proactive. Anyway, they were right on the path, much to our alarm. We casually backed off, climbed a five foot dry stone wall and lept over a nettle-filled ditch from the top of said dry stone wall in order to avoid the bull. Then Oli told us all about bull-fighting in Madrid and I was glad we'd gone to the effort.

Day Four, Winshields to Greenhead

More stunning countryside. We went wrong. A lot. In fact, there was a mile or so when Richard and I barely talked. Then to Greenhead hostel.

Day Five, Greenhead to Carlisle

Agony, absolute agony in the morning as everyone else overpaid for their breakfast as we were able to eat from the provisions in Granny's van. In retrospect I wish I'd arranged for Granny to call in at a shop the previous day and pick up more food to share, but hindsight is a wonderful thing. Suffice to say I felt rotten and all that walking was hurting. All in all it was wonderful, and very kind of them, to have Richard's parents along as sherpas and baby sitters, though sometimes it meant we were sort of a mini-group unto ourselves when it would have been nice to be part of the main gang. C'est la vie.

Day Six, Carlise to Bowness-on-Solway

Mood restored, the rains came. Lightly at first, then heavier and heavier as we left conventional countryside to walk along the marshes of the Solway Firth, along the Straightest Road in the World, never stopping until that glorious sign:

"Toilet Tea Toilet"

Toilet tea toilet was just a little concrete outbuilding with a loo, little table covered with a plastic tablecloth, an honesty box and my god, hot drinks, ice creams, crisps, chocolate.... Alex wrote in the visitor book "I want to live here" and at that moment I believe she almost meant it. The place was stuffed with 20 or so sodden walkers, grinning like idiots, basking in the sheer luxury of being dry and 4 miles or so from the finish line.

I remember feeling so much admiration for the people who were injured, really in agony, and limping quickly towards Bowness with grim, implacable determination. And the atmosphere in the pub at the finish line. We were splattered with cow shit, soaked through like drowned rats and I was not the only one unable to walk normally, the lactic acid build-up in our legs making moving a difficult, slow and sore business. And we didn't care and there was ice lollys and cheering and drinks and laughing and I even saw Martin grin. I'm smiling just thinking of it now, it was pretty special.

And now I'm home and my hip and my back and my knees still hurt but somehow things seem more... possible.

http://www.hadrianswalk.org/

Bubbles

2010-06-30T16:22:00.002+01:00

Earlier today I was feeling pretty ugh. But I opened up the file of photos Oli Walker gave me of photos he took at the wedding. I think the landscapes are mine from when I borrowed his camera the next day, but I wouldn't swear to it in court.

I should convert all these zeros and ones into real objects.

Anyway, big bubbles, light through trees, happy memories and happier me :D

Valour and Felicity

2010-06-27T00:59:00.000+01:00

So, I sent Dad my tripod for Father's day thinking I need a better one, and he done gone bought me a shiny Manfrotto to replace it! Cheers pops :D

Here's the first shot with my new baby. I love it. I may sleep with it tonight, in the same way that William insists sometimes on taking his largest and most spiky toy to bed and sleeping with that.

Onto the exciting news though - I used it in ernest last night at the University of St Andrews Grad Ball, doing a sponsored photo wall as part of Valour and Felicity*. It was a long day, and a late night, and a lot of work to set it up so today I have been mostly feeling like that flower at the bottom left, but without the elegance. Brilliant, brilliant fun though and the images are just priceless. More on the new site soon but that's all the horn tootin' there'll be here.

Cx

ps - Do you like the name?

pps - still lots to do on V&F's blog, things will be a'changin'.

ppps - Bed.

honeymoon day two

2010-06-24T22:09:00.000+01:00

On night One of honeymoon, we snuggled down in the kata, with light sleeping bags and a blanket. William had his little quilt; he was toasy warm. The Glaswegians in the tent next to us stayed up quietly drinking, then went to bed to snore and have energetic relations.

It. Was. BALTIC.

4 degrees, apparently. Our fault for assuming it would be hot at that time of year. At four in the morning, Richard headed down to acquire a new bag of wood (honour system. It's nice to be trusted.)

We got a few hours sleep, then headed back to Newburgh.

You know, I said as we drove back into town, I hear round here's great for a holiday.

Biggest reed beds in Britain, said Richard

Home of the Bearded Tit, I added

Historic abbeys

Lovely walks

I here there's a nice woman that sells eggs and has a beautiful cottage garden. Been in the family for 130 years.

Yeh, I hear that two.

William had fallen asleep in the car, so we parked in the driveway, filled the boot of the car with *all* the bedding, and added a few fold-up chairs for good measure, experienced the great pleasure of boiling an electric kettle (sooo fast), made some coffees and sat drinking them in the car, looking at the bird shit on the front door. Needs a clean. Pigeons.

Anyway, let's get on.

Yup.

So, we went back and visited Auchingarrich Wildlife Centre. It had a real banicoot, which was nice. And wild cats, who looked a lot like the cat of my childhood, Garfield. They had a little sign outside their cage, saying that they didn't eat the bags of food they sold to the kiddies to give to the animals, just "dragons 'an princesses 'an stuff". Frankly though, they were just having a nice nap when we saw them. Looked kinda cute.

Photos. Check out the reflections in Richard's glasses.

Daisy daisy

2010-06-23T21:20:00.000+01:00

William gave me four daisies from the garden today, one at a time, with a big grin on his face.

Kids are AWESOME.

Comrie Croft, the first day.

2010-06-20T16:15:00.000+01:00

On the first day of our honeymoon in the morning we all donned our waterproofs and went for a long walk in the rain round Newburgh. It was a Sunday after all and we had nothing better to do. A cup of tea or two later, and I went to check my email to see when we were to arrive at our honeymooning spot tomorrow. It was 12:50 on Sunday 30th May, and as my email clearly and coolly informed me, we could take possession of our kata at any time after one in the afternoon. Today. Sunday 30th May. As in, in ten minutes. We weren't even a *little* bit packed.

So we were feeling pretty smug when we managed to make it to Comrie Croft by four.

I crossed my fingers driving my middle-aged Focus up the dirt track - there was a wee warning on the welcome map that it was really for 4 by 4s and you take your [puny] 2 wheel drive car up there at your own risk. It was bumpy, but fine. I wouldn't do it in winter though! We left our stuff up at the kata, made the beds up, and explored.

The best recipe in the world, ever

2010-06-18T21:59:00.003+01:00

Every culture has something special, some national dish or ingredient, to add to the lexicon of cooks everywhere. Fajitas, curry, sushi, lasagna, hotpot... the Irish have quite a few national dishes. For me the taste of home is Maud's ice cream, potato bread, Ulster fry, Tayto's cheese and onion crisps, and soda bread. And actually soda bread's at the top of the list. There are many different varieties, some for the griddle, others for the oven.

Dad bought me a great wee wedding present, a book by the Irish cookery writer Darina Allen, Forgotten Skills of Cooking. As far as I can tell she's sort of Delia and Hugh F-W rolled into one, with a thriving and famous cookery school to her name and many books. And so far the recipes have worked so well I can't wait to try the rest of them! It's a treasury of real, practical cooking, gorgeous photography, and information on producing your own food, eggs, growing veggies, foraging and so on.

Anyway, let's talk about soda bread. It rises because of the combination of acid (in the buttermilk) and the bicarbonate of soda. It tastes delicious. You can eat it like a normal bread, though it's not usually used for closed sandwiches, too crumbly. It's great on a plate with a topping though, as an open sandwich. Eat it with soup, or cheese, or toasted with butter and maybe a bit of jam. Boil up a good egg, sure, and eat it with that. Just fresh, sliced and buttered it's the only way to eat smoked salmon, truly it is, forget blinis. You don't need to knead it, leave it to rise, knock it back, repeat the process... oh no. Just mix the ingredients and tip it into a tin, bung it in the oven and kapow. One hour later, you are a God of Bread and your friends, family, and stomach will be forever grateful. Good stuff.

So, here's the recipe, paraphrased and slightly adapted from the aforementioned fantastic book:

Stick on the oven to 200 C, Gas 6, and grease a 2lb loaf tin with sunflower oil.

Weigh out and bung into a big bowl 400g wholemeal flour and 75g plain flour. Add 1 teaspoonful fine salt and sieve in a teaspoonful of bicarb of soda. If you want, add 4 tablespoonfuls of mixed seeds (sesame, pumpkin, sunflower, kibbled wheat, that sort of thing). Give it a mix.

Next, put one of those 284ml cartons of buttermilk in a jug, add a couple of big tablespoonfuls of natural yogurt and make it up to the 425ml mark with milk. (Alternatively, I'd use just half and half natural yogurt and milk, or just buttermilk). Add 1 teaspoonful of sunflower oil and 1 teaspoonful of either treacle, brown sugar or honey. Crack in an egg and whisk the lot up.

Now for the hard part: tip the jug of wet stuff into the bowl of dry stuff and give it a wee mix. Feel the burn. Ok that's enough, it doesn't take much.

Pop the mix into your greased loaf tin, sprinkle on a few more seeds if that's the way you roll, pop into oven. An hour later, take it out and out of the tin to cool, and allow a satisfied smirk to develop on your face, because you're brilliant, and there is no limit to your achievements. Huzzah!

Motherhood

2010-06-16T16:08:00.001+01:00

It's a broad topic, motherhood. Still, there are two things I know to be true, for me:

It frequently feels like someone else is in charge :-

And if you don't get dirty, you aren't doing it right :-

For Tara's gallery (prizes this week! Oooh!)

Your wish....

2010-06-14T18:06:00.000+01:00

...is my command.

I did offer some to Richard, but he said I could have it all. Then William scarfed the icing, which is sort of us in a nutshell really.

Scrom!

To let them eat cake or not to let them eat cake?

2010-06-12T01:16:00.000+01:00

So, I have a dilemma.

*serious face*

I have one piece of cake left. Now, on a normal basis, there is no problem here. Me see cake, me eat cake. Cake is toast; not literally, but ya ken whaah mean? (I'm a bit tired, humour me)

But...

This is not normal cake. This is the Last Slice of Wedding Cake, and doubts assail me.

1) If I eat the cake, the celebration is sort of offically Over. And that's a bit sad.

2) What if it's bad luck? Or I should keep the cake in a box to show to my great grandchildren when we're 90? What then I ask you?

3) I *could* keep the cake. But then I don't get to eat it.

So, there it sits, in it's transparent house in the kitchen. Mocking me with it's marzipanned chewy goodness and hidden and possibly non-existent meaning.

Answers in the comments please: to eat or not to eat, that is the question.

The wedding ceremony

2010-06-08T14:23:00.001+01:00

I do love a nice monochrome shot, it captures the classical, timeless elegance of a wedding so beautifully *cough*. This is one of the gorgeous Olga's shots. She's my little brother Hugo's girlfriend, they're the cutest couple ever. She likes her photography too so of course when he saw a Holga he couldn't resist and bought her one. I meant to ask them to bring it, but like many of my plans for the wedding it went by the wayside!

Most things went brilliantly, better even than I'd hoped. If Ruth doesn't mind maybe I'll put some of her piccies on after I get them to tell more of the story, but I can start with the ceremony. It was pretty much the first thing we planned. Funny enough it sometimes seems to me that the ceremony gets kicked to the wayside a bit in wedding planning magazines, big blogs, and all the rest, but it's the most important bit so we spent aggggges trawling books and the internet for something meaningful. And it was.

We had a harpist, Annette, who played an old-fashioned Clàrsach, a medium-sized harp with a beautiful, mellow, relaxing sound. Our lovely celebrant Derek (he used to be a policeman! I love that) welcomed everyone, and read:

Friendship , by Judy Bielicki

It is often said that it is love that makes the world go round. However, without doubt, it is friendship which keeps our spinning existence on an even keel. True friendship provides so many of the essentials for a happy life-it is the foundation on which to build an enduring relationship, it is the mortar which bonds us together in harmony, and it is the calm, warm protection we sometimes need when the world outside seems cold and chaotic. True friendship holds a mirror to our foibles and failings, without destroying our sense of worthiness. True friendship nurtures our hopes, supports us in our disappointments, and encourages us to grow to our best potential. Catherine and Richard come together as friends. Today, they pledge to each other not only their love, but also the strength, warmth and, most importantly, the fun of true friendship.

Today you are agreeing to the ongoing process of shaping and reshaping your lives together. You are committing to always listen to each other, to each respect and value the other as your equal, to be honest with each other and to treat each other with kindness and thoughtfulness, not only when you feel like it or when it is easy, but when you want to be selfish, when you are tired, when you are full of fear and uncertainty. You must make this commitment with faith and trust in each other, knowing that sometimes, individually and together, you will fall short. But when frustration, difficulties and fear assail your relationship, as they sometimes threaten all relationships, remember to focus on what is right between you, not only the part which seems wrong.

It is not this ceremony or the state of being married that will truly join you and hold you together, but your ongoing commitment to your relationship and to the kind of life you wish to make together.

In this way, your love will not be just a word or a temporary emotion; it will be more than that, it will be an action, it will be something you work to do every day.

Lee's girlfriend Caroline then did a fantastic job reading Shores by Sorley Maclean, despite William, who was by this time a bit too hot, a bit too tired, and a bit too confused, muttering "Mummy! Bed!" throughout. He had started off with his Auntie Aurora but he seemed so unhappy (not because of her, just the aforementioned sleepies) that he came up to see us for the rest of the ceremony. Which was kinda cute :D

Next came the vows, which were of the traditional "to have and to hold" variety, for better "MUMMY!" .... or for worse... (the little guy just had a wee cuddle then, he was ok). I really liked having the traditional vows. Weddings are in part a social contract, a way to ratify your union before friends and family, and it was good for us to be able to repeat the words that so many before us had used. For me, they sort of become stronger in the repetition, each couple adding another layer of meaning.

As we exchanged rings, Derek read the Geal Turnbull poem These Rings (I think of the phrase "garlands but never binds the coastline" when I look at mine). We bought vintage rings by the way, old, rich-coloured gold, and they fitted perfectly. The celebrant said they normally don't go on properly during the ceremony as the couple's fingers are swollen and sweaty with nerves, but we were ok.

Then the register, signed in the beautiful carved old oak chairs at the town hall, and Lee (who is fabulously funny, and whose ice cream Richard is stealing in the picture) read the final poem:

‘I’ll be there’ – Louise Cuddon
I’ll be there, my darling,
Through thick and through thin
When your mind is a mess
When your head’s in a spin
When your plane’s been delayed
When you’ve missed the last train
When life is just threatening
To drive you insane
When your thrilling whodunit
Has lost its last page
When somebody tells you
You’re looking your age
When your coffee’s too cool
And your wine too warm
When the forecast said ‘Fine’
But you’re out in a storm
When you ordered the Korma
But got the Madras
When you wake in the night
And are sure you smell gas
When your quick-break hotel
Is more like a slum
And your holiday photos
Show only your thumb
When you park for five minutes
In a resident’s bay
And return to discover
You’ve been towed away
When the jeans that you bought
In hope or in haste
Stick on your hips
And won’t reach around your waist
When the dentist looks into
Your mouth and just sighs
When your heroes turn out
To be wimps in disguise
When the food that you most like
Brings you out in red rashes
When as soon as you boot up
The bloody thing crashes
When you gaze at the stars
And step on a nail
When you know you’ll succeed
But, somehow, you fail
When your horoscope tells you
You’ll have a good day
So you ask for a rise
And your boss says ‘No way’

So my darling, my sweetheart, my dear….

When you spill your beer
When you shed a tear
When you burn the toast
When you miss the post
When you lose the plot
When I’m all you’ve got
When you break a rule
When you act the fool
When you’ve got the flu
When you’re in a stew
When you’re last in the queue
Don’t feel blue
‘Cause I’m telling you
I’ll be there

I’ll be there

I’ll be there for you.

Honey moon

2010-06-05T00:52:00.000+01:00

It is late, I shall go to bed, I have just noticed this picture needs straightened. But I thought I'd share anyway - we're just back from our holiday at Comrie Croft, and here is a big stone I saw in the top camping meadow, it had a hole carved into the top and it looks like there are more etchings on the surface.... I'd love to know more about the meanings of Pictish symbols. A trip to the library is in order this week I think.

Honeymoon was great. There was Eric the Mouse and lovely George the campsite guy who carved us a little curved rowanwood spoon and David who showed us the nesting ospreys, Rob(bing sods) the robins, Eric the cheeky field mouse and newts and waterfalls and bluebells and ferns and big old oak trees and a crannog on the water and new games were invented, mostly involving getting wet and/or dirty, and scary but beautiful drives undertaken... I'll tell you all about it. After a big sleep...

Afterparty

2010-05-28T17:00:00.000+01:00

So yeah, we did it!

I'm wearing my ring, which is just a simple slim band, made in 1856 (the year that one of my favourite artists John Singer Sargent was born, it was meant to be), and Richard is drinking ginger beer and watching a Bruce Willis flick. So far, so the same... and yet, it isn't really. It feels different... good different. Hard to put your finger on different. After all, as my sister in law Aurora put it, this was merely the "ratification of an existing treaty" hehe.... It's nice. I think it's a little like having William, one big shift and the consequences will make themselves known, gradually.

Here is a wee picture I took of the bouquet a few days later. Some of the roses were mail-order scented, old-fashioned ones, some flowers were from the florist, the big purple aliums and the mystery green flowers were from our garden. Hugo's girlfriend Olga (cutest couple ever) helped with making the bunches, then we wrapped them in florists tape and I finished them with a lace handkerchief and some pearl-headed pins the morning of the wedding. Which is pretty much where Ruth the photographer found me when she arrived, as you can see by her flickr album: Catherine and Richard

We'll be off for our honeymoon soon to stay in a swedish style Kata which is sort of like a wigwam in the woods. I can't wait!!

Tarra for now.

Mwah! Mwah!

Walking

2010-05-20T12:23:00.000+01:00

The weird thing is, that for 99% of people across the planet, this is just Thursday. Nothing special, much. But for us it's the Thursday Before We Get Married, and hence a Thursday of significance. On days like this one's personal universe seems to contract, twist, and emerge anew, for better or for worse. Today, those 99%, those normal people, they seem like a barely conceivable possibility. It's a peculiar feeling.

Kind, lovely people have been ringing up asking if there's anything we need as a wedding present but I have to admit I hate the feeling that I'm asking for stuff. "Why yes I appreciate you're flying in from Vienna on a shoestring but I tell you what some of those lovely hand made glasses would be great. What do you mean that's Venice? I always get the two confused." Needless to say this conversation didn't happen. I asked for sweeties from the airport.

All of this is a roundabout way of saying, if you are able, if you haven't donated yet (thank you), if you would like, pleasethankyou, you can sponsor us here:

http://www.justgiving.com/Catherine-Sinclair

We're walking across England, 86 miles, in the space of 6 days (yeah, wish us luck!) for the Joseph Salmon Trust, a charity in memory of Joseph Salmon, a little boy not too much older than William who died suddenly in his sleep. His parents Rachel and Neil set it up to financially help out people who have lost a child. A headstone, a electricity bill, a week or two off work. Whatever helps.

2010-05-10T18:36:00.001+01:00

Camomile tea

2010-05-06T22:22:00.003+01:00

Camomile Tea

Outside the sky is light with stars;
There's a hollow roaring from the sea.
And, alas! for the little almond flowers,
The wind is shaking the almond tree.

How little I thought, a year ago,
In the horrible cottage upon the Lee
That he and I should be sitting so
And sipping a cup of camomile tea.

Light as feathers the witches fly,
The horn of the moon is plain to see;
By a firefly under a jonquil flower
A goblin toasts a bumble-bee.

We might be fifty, we might be five,
So snug, so compact, so wise are we!
Under the kitchen-table leg
My knee is pressing against his knee.

Our shutters are shut, the fire is low,
The tap is dripping peacefully;
The saucepan shadows on the wall
Are black and round and plain to see.

Katharine Mansfield

Ummm... Hi! Does anyone still visit? I know I haven't been here so it would serve me right if I'm speaking to an empty room... I have been caught up in all sorts of stuff, but my brain has turned to mush so I'm not quite sure what it all was.

The wedding is starting to Come Together though, which is good. I am feeling quite zen about it all now actually, after a brief period of mild panic. Most stuff is about as organised as it can be at this stage in the game, we have a photographer and cake and champagne and caterers and a ceremony.... there is other stuff to organise. I got some cheapish pinot grigio for the few white wine drinkers, opened it to, ahem "check" it then realised it wouldn't do. Oh a few other things are going a little wrong too... but it'll be fine. In the grand scheme of things, they're little things. We met our celebrant today in the little organic coffee shop near Falkland, Pillars of Hercules (I want to live in a house like this! Note the mighty oak tree growing through the veranda). He was really lovely, neither too serious nor too light. He certainly didn't mind small children running about the place, and if something goes a little bit wrong? He doesn't mind that either. Most reassuring.

Anyway, here is a poem we considered for the wedding. One of my favourite bloggers, first milk, reminded me of it. One of my (many!) ambitions for this year is to grow more herbs, and camomile for tea is on the hit list. I shall mix it with a little dried lavender for fragrant teas, to be drunk late at night, from a chipped cup, sitting with Richard.

Mummies and Daddies

2010-04-19T22:31:00.002+01:00

The interior of a child's mind is an interesting old thing. I remember making all sorts of weird connections on limited evidence, and now William's two he's starting to do the same of course. This is funniest when it's directed at us.

For example: Oh, help! Oh no! It's a.....

William: "Da!"

Hahaha. To Richard's credit, his dressing gown is made of soft brown fuzzy material, and The Gruffalo is revealed to be a rather nice snuggly Dad in The Gruffalo's Child, our number one bedtime reading book.

Still, the trend continued when "Da cars" from the Disney film Cars were the sort of grizzly older ones like Sheriff and Luigi, not shiny Lightning Macqueen, whereas Mummy Car is...

Sally Carrera. Oh yeah. Ok, so she has a mildly annoying monologue in her opening scene, but still I was feeling pretty smug. "Mummy Cars" also include the cute groupies at the start of the film. Happy days! Richard's the Gruffalo, I'm a Porsche. Maybe I don't need to lost a couple of stone after all. I'm a Porsche!

They say that pride comes before a fall. The next "Mo-me"? Ahem.

Ladies and gents, I bring you Frank, the insanely cross combine harvester:

"Moooomeeeee!"

No further words are really required, except that whereas Frank is meant to be interpreted as a bull with a herd of tractors in a field his cows, I think William sees them more as "her" kids and she's trying to protect them from Lightning and Mater who are, after all, being a bit mean by scaring them to tip them over comically backwards. Incidently, Frank is exactly how I picture Maggie May riding to the defence of her own "delicate bulls"..

Blossom

2010-04-14T20:44:00.000+01:00

Spring spring springy springy spring.

That is all.

Red tulips

2010-04-07T17:10:00.000+01:00

So, the longer I live in Newburgh the more I realise I really like it here. Take this weekend. Richard was off galavanting on his stag do and so William and I had the weekend to ourselves. So first of all we trotted off to the opening of the new little shop on the high street, Kit & Caboodle. Very shabby chic, very cool (they nicked my idea of vintage toys, the sods), and best of all for a pauper like me very reasonably priced too. I picked up this cool handpainted vase and some red tulips for it for a song while William was feed mini eggs by the proprietress. We got some wooden dominoes for William's friend Fergus too, then trotted (ok, puffed) up the hill to visit him. His parents have been working like Trojans to renovate their huge old house halfway up the hill, and it's so worth it. They have ha-uge rooms and windows with panoramic views over the Tay Estuary and reed beds. Amazing.

On Easter Sunday we walked up the road to Hatters Tearoom, which was absolutely full of happy diners, and shared fresh tomato and pesto soup, Spanish omlette with smoked haddock and gorgeous vanilla icecream. Scrom nom.

Now, lets be honest, I'm feeling a little under the weather today. One thing and another. But looking at those tulips is still making me smile.

Catch-22

2010-04-02T16:46:00.000+01:00

I have this problem.

There's this pear, right? If it's left, eventually it'll go all grainy and yuck then mushy and yuckier....

But it's too goddam cute to eat.

*sigh*

Outside my front door

2010-03-31T12:19:00.000+01:00

For Tara's gallery

Frankly we haven't actually been outside the door in about 48 hours, the weather has been shocking! We live right on the high street, but there's a lovely copper beech tree right outside the front door.

Spring is sprung

2010-03-29T15:57:00.000+01:00

We went oop North to near Banff (where the trawlermen are from) this weekend. It's frosty, aye, and apparently *still* threatening snow. Like, eh? But who cares the clocks have gone back there are crocuses out and that's enough to make me smile.

Still in morealess full wedding planning mode, but have work to do and the house is a tip (which is why I'm blogging! Ha! Procrastination central, right here. Come by, I'll make us all some tea) and besides I watched some wedding telly at the weekend (4 weddings) and it made me feel slightly ill. Also, also, Richard's new brew kit has just arrived today and am now really starting to think more about Hadrian's Walk. Though actually *doing* some, like, massive walks to prepare would probably be constructive than thinking "Heck, I don't think I've ever walked more than 6 miles at once, and in a few months it'll be 20 mile days. Best think about that then."

the natural look?

2010-03-23T22:06:00.000Z

We met our photographer Ruth today after spending £coughity-cough on makeup at the Estee Lauder counter (I got a big bag of freebies though, so it's ok, right? It's just like saving money, really.) She said I looked nice, I said I have eye wrinkles. She said you *need* eye wrinkles, for character.

I <3 Ruth.

Also, light rose lipstick (like here) or red red red? The jury is out, I need your help to decide, comments please!

brighten my northern sky

2010-03-21T23:25:00.002Z

The jury's still out on dancing - probably not, and certainly there isn't the wherewithal for the traditional wedding disco - but if, if there is a first dance, it might be this:

I never felt magic crazy as this
I never saw moons
knew the meaning of the sea
I never held emotion in the palm of my hand
Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree
But now you're here
Brighten my northern sky.

I've been a long time that I'm waiting
Been a long that I'm blown
I've been a long time that I've wandered
Through the people I have known
Oh, if you would and you could
Straighten my new mind's eye.

Would you love me for my money
Would you love me for my head
Would you love me through the winter
Would you love me 'til I'm dead
Oh, if you would and you could
Come blow your horn on high.

I never felt magic crazy as this
I never saw moons knew the meaning of the sea
I never held emotion in the palm of my hand
Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree
But now you're here
Brighten my northern sky.

Nick Drake, Northern Sky

Other suggestions onna postcard. Or, er, in the comments box. We're also thinking maybe, like, Tim Minchin's "If I didn't have you", with a full-on choreographed and rehearsed hip-hop dance, a bit Beyonce, a bit that youtube video of Daft Punk "Stronger Better Faster"... and here's where I need the "just joking" tag. Where do you get those tags anyway?

Invitations...

2010-03-19T15:32:00.000Z

...done! Almost. I won't be winning any prizes for my beautiful handwriting, but if you squint from a distance they look nice! And if you don't they're "individual." Maybe even "different," or worst of all "interesting" which is what the Queen says at Chelsea when faced with some ultra-modern garden she secretly hates but is too polite to say. So "interesting" it is.

The motif on the front is (meant to be) lily-of-the-valley, the quintessenial May flower for bouquets, apparently, but curiously about as easy to get hold of as gnat's teeth. And on the back we have a wee doodle of the owl and the pussycat and their informe owl/cat progeny in their beautiful pea-green boat. It'd almost be good to read at a marriage ceremony, but if your family are anything like mine, there would be tittering at the back.

Swingin' for the gallery

2010-03-10T21:13:00.000Z

It's time for a gallery entry again.

Two feets!

2010-03-08T23:03:00.003Z

Formula for reusing stuff.

We were at our lovely friends Vicki and Dave's house yesterday for an Italian themed dinner. The hosts made a yummy gnocchi-based main, Dan made an amazing salad with baked pear and cheese, and our contribution was the last course - but we were trying to avoid chocolate, coffee, booze, cream and excessive quantities of sugar for one reason and another. So no zabaglione, no tiramasu, no fruits with alcohol, no cream tarts, no gelatto, no biscotti for coffee or wine.... you can see how this is going? So Richard packed up our basket (my Mothers Day present from last year, filled with chocolate goodness) with Manchego, Dolcelatte, grapes, olives, and Italian flatbreads (made with lots of olive oil, very good), and his cunning presentation made up for the fact that we didn't, er, do any cooking. Either that or we have very polite friends...?... nah, it was demolished with relish. They're fab, but they ain't that polite.

True story

2010-03-06T21:14:00.005Z

So, yesterday started like a pretty normal day.

There was painting, for starters:

Mr Man was gingerly extracted from his throne and carried to the bathroom by the armpits, kicking happily. Where he proceeded to turn the water pink:

Buggled up in a warm towel, a big cuddle and a fresh set of clothes later, we made a card for his cousin Rose who is turning 4 on Monday, and wrapped her present in a clean old silk scarf:

...and headed out to the post office to post it. Where something unexpected unexpectedly occured: the tall chap behind us in the queue turned out to be called Mark.

MAAARK! said the post office guy. When did you get back?!

Oh about a week ago now.

How was it man? Hey, you're in the Herald today!

Oh really?

Mark get the Herald, and post office guy opens an article "Heroes welcome home for Fife man" (something like that)

And suddenly I'm interested and pipe up, like an idiot: Oh, what did you do?

Cycled from Alaska to Ushuaia in Southern Argentina, climbing the tallest peaks in the Americas on the way.

Oh. Wow. Incredible!
says I. I mean, what do you say?

He looked just as surprised to be in Newburgh post office as I was to see him there, even though I'd heard of him. The next Ranulph Fiennes, behind me in the post office queue. Now that's just plain weird. They didn't charge him for the newspaper, and William and I, having nothing further of intelligence to add, left and set off for our own epic expedition around, er, Newburgh. Population 2000 or so, famous amoung the ornathologists who gather to twitch for the Greater Bearded Tit and Sea Eagles. And because it's the home town of Mark Beaumont.

Hey, maybe we'll get a statue of him someday?! Apparently there used to be a bit of a feud between Newburgh and Auchtermuchty, I think it would beat the Jimmy Shand memorial in the coolitude stakes anyway.

2010-03-04T22:27:00.006Z

Richard was off work today, just a normal day off. We had a bit of a lie in, then the usual for breakfast, though it'd been nicer with local bread:

William's dvd copy of the film Cars arrived at the door just after we'd finished the tidying up, you should've seen the smile on his face. Lunch was easy as I'd roasted some veg last night: sweet roast beetroot, pototo and chard, melting goat's cheese and a splash of olive oil, balsamic, a blast of black pepper:

Homemade carrot cake for tea. Great cake, and really easy with a food processor.

And after a play, and a chat, and a nap for the little man, and Cars: roast chicken (sorry veggies!). I'll make stock tomorrow.

And now it's time for bed, and I shall finish The Angle of Incidence, which is a luminous, beautiful book about family, courage, class, masks and art. The first chapter is... surprising... but once you get past that it's a fabulous read.

perfection ain't perfect

2010-03-03T16:52:00.003Z

Sticky fingers Tara is someone who's sort of been on the edge of my conscious for a while now in a blog-friend-of-a-blog-friend sort of way, but when these "Beauty" pictures and posts started popping up all over the place I *had* to go see. It turns out I should've visited her blog agggges ago as she was Readered within three lines.

She's started a photo Friday, a challenge with a theme, and this week's one is "Beauty". Trawling the archives for the perfect candidate, I knew what I was looking for.

Imperfection.

I wanted a good close-up of some wrinkles on a laughing face, a daft expression, a marked and misshapen fruit... that's beauty. Incidently when Richard was at college studying blacksmithing he would greet his soot-blackened muscly chums the same way each morning: "Awight gorgeous!" I don't know if he then pinched their bums, but I like to think so.

So I found the above picture of my lovely man; but then I liked the leaf. And I couldn't resist the swan - it's not perfect, it's at the wrong iso, and maybe it's a bit dull.

Anyway, me to you, beauty. And I even resisted posting yet another picture of the newburgh water. or William. Go me!

2010-03-01T17:55:00.000Z

From Branklyn Gardens in Perth, a sort of recreation of an acre or two of Himalyan foothills, but in a leafy Edwardian suburb (would be a lovely piece to tie the knot NOT THAT I AM WEDDING OBSESSED or anything *cough*). It's gorgeous, dappled shade, paths everywhere, big trees and secluded pools... it even made rhododendrons look good, which is impressive.

Roll on the spring!

big blue bird

2010-02-27T21:23:00.003Z

So, as the whole WORLD surely knows by now, lovely Martin of XBox4NappyRash (naff title, seriously great writing) and his lady wife had a much-wanted baby girl last week. He kept everyone hanging on til the last minute as to Sanne's gender so we all guessed and I was right, right I tell you! It's good to be right occassionally, I mean obviously I am all the time.... I also predicted a stubborn streak, so look out Martin.

The pictures were taken for Dan's video of congratulations and a fine piece of work it is too. The video, not the pics particularly. They were helped along by using bounced flash though, favourite method du jour. I've been reading a lot about lighting technique lately on The Strobist, the most amazing resource for learning lighting technique ever. The funny thing is, many of my favourite photographers seem to exclusively use ambient, but of course to make great pictures they will understand light as well as any "Strobist." So yeah, happy enough, though the last one is too soft, and a larger light source would've created more satisfying specular highlights. But now I want a light stand, shoot-through umbrella or softbox, maybe a few more speedlights, a set of pocket wizards for triggering the whole lot off, gels for colour-correction, a ring flash adaptor, maybe a beauty dish to try. That's on top of an almost total equipment upgrade you understand: a Canon EOS 5D Mark II body, a few new lenses: the new Canon EF 70-200mm f/2.8L, oh, and the EF-S 17-55mm f/2.8. I'll keep hold of the 50mm though. And my camera bag. Oh yes, and a Manfrotto tripod and a set of neutral density filters for landscapes... Hello? Still there? Oh but I love kit more than SHOES. Far more. Not having a spare 10k to blow on premium kit however, I'll just be doing a bit more, er, understanding for now. And maybe working on some DIY light modifiers. Also, maybe a Holga? Of course, film is a whole new frontier, a big view camera would be nice. And a few years to learn to use it right.

I do love kit. But I bet the most annoying thing great photographers hear is "Oh! You must have a really great camera!" I bet Alfred Stieglitz heard *that* one a few too many times, as he made a point of using a little portable Kodak for some of his best work.

Best stop rambling now... congrats Martin!!

2010-02-21T12:34:00.000Z

blue and black

2010-02-20T18:19:00.002Z

A gift from Richard, three white hyacinths, sits on the mantlepiece and on the edge of perception as I type. I have to breathe in deeply to catch the scent but once I do it's a strong, seductive promise of the coming spring. Surely it's here already, the snowdrops say so, I can see crocuses coming up too. But just as summer seems reluctant to relinquish its reign in September, taunting school children with bright, hot days, winter still dominates now, in February, and will continue imposing hard frosts and early sunsets for a few weeks to come.

For me, the real high point of the year is May. Still fresh, still blooming, cherry blossom, the white froth of hawthorn, the end of the tulips, and summer on the way. It's a hopeful sort of time. That's why we chose the month for our wedding, as a wish for the future.

Three months to go.

more from the winter

2010-02-19T22:56:00.000Z

Between Christmas and New Years the snow was more of a joy than a pain, with larger children screaming as they sledged down the impromptu snow slope in the park, and small ones giggling as they slid down the slopes sitting between the knees of someone six times their size.

Click on the picture for big

Boxing Day

2010-02-18T16:21:00.002Z

And on Boxing Day, we all went out.

Why is it called Boxing Day, anyway?

2010-02-17T18:41:00.000Z

And this was Christmas Eve. I don't have too many pictures of us from Christmas, just a few landscapes. Life had been hectic in December, with long work hours and heavy colds all round. William looked like he'd gone 10 rounds with some mini Mike Tyson his eyes were so swollen. Richard finally got four days off from Christmas Eve; the snows came, and I went out for a few long walks on my own with my camera. My Mum calls it "getting your head showered," it was completely what I needed: a wee snatch of freedom and fresh air, and home to a grateful cup of tea.

Today I'm finding my Lenten abstinence from java surprisingly challenging. I wanted one after breakfast, and the craving reappeared while I was getting William to sleep. My afternoon habit of coffee and internet is more ingrained than I thought!

2010-02-16T23:28:00.001Z

I am tempting fate here, but it's Shrove Tuesday, buds are on the trees and the snowdrops are out and I am feeling... Spring-y. As I have declared Winter over (offical! It will snow next week for sure) I thought I'd go through and put up some winter photos, though tbh I'm not feeling too impressed with my work lately. Mind you if I was all self-satisfied I wouldn't push myself on, so...

Do you do the Lent thing? It seems like a good time of year for self-improvement, almost like people are renewed with the startings of new growth, or something. I'm not being too ambitious, just replacing coffee with herbal tea. We've developed a real thing for coffee lately, strong and sweet, but post-pancakes (flat ones, made with lemon juice, caster sugar, and far far too good) I had a cup of it and came over all funny. Dizzy, nauseous, tired... I had a lie down (William was already sleeping) and only later realised how dehydrated I was! Oops. Have resurrected the water filter jug and am aiming to drink some of the stuff too, quite possibly a few glasses in non-tea form. Unprecedented.

2010-02-15T21:49:00.000Z

Check it out! I am now the proud borrower of a manual flash, and owner of a TTL cord, meaning I can use it off-camera mwahahahahaha.

Now all I have to do is figure out how to use it!

Favourite picture meme

2010-02-05T18:33:00.000Z

What's you favourite picture? I have been trawling the files hoping for inspiration to strike but I don't have one. I have dozens!

This one was a year and a half ago, on holiday to Fortwilliam. I can't remember whether William wanted to wear the hat or merely tolerated it but whatever, he looks like a miniture but entirely non-threatening John Wayne.

Slimed

2010-02-03T13:46:00.000Z

If this snot-Goblin belonged to someone else I would probably run a mile. Ok, I wouldn't, that would be rude, I'd offer sympathy but be slightly grossed out; snotty little-uns are undeniably icky.

But here's the weird thing, Wm's nose is some sort of mucus factory today and while the snot is ickable, I can deal. I don't mind*. Who else is going to clean up that ectoplasm-coated top lip? He's Slimer but it's still kinda cute.

The midwives must have welded on some rose-tinted contacts shortly after he was born, it's the only explanation I can think of.

*Except when I got a snotty kiss. Now that was a bit gross.

These Rings

2010-02-01T13:16:00.000Z

I like an opportunist, and our wedding photographer Ruth Trotter is just such a creature, taking advantage of the frost to create this gorgeous shot of her wedding rings. All the "and here are the rings" shots have lately started to become a bit overdone but this one is fresh, simply composed and beautifully lit by the winter sun and its reflection off the snow. It reminded me of a poem we'll have at the ceremony, These Rings by Gael Turnbull:

These rings that we exchange
renew themselves as the unwearied surf
that garlands but never binds the coastline
of an island from which love ever sails
towards the horizon’s circle
always farther
beyond which we cannot reach
and all of these are emblems
of our taking of each other
no more constricted
than is the earth
by the enfolding of the sea.

Waifs and strays

2010-01-27T18:37:00.000Z

My Mum is a big softie. Over the years she's taken in a seagull with a broken wing, a pigeon (that one died, unfortunately), at least one hedgehog (Spike. Loved crunching on slugs), a bat, a little starling who would sit on her shoulder - Tweet his name was - several cats, and quite a few dogs. Most of the dogs were just passing through, she's only had one in my lifetime who stuck. Tosca. Started out Oscar, until Dr Reid (a.k.a. my Auntie Anne) looked down at her one Christmas as she shamelessly lay on her back wagging her tail, and set us right. She was a great dog. Yes, she licked her paws incessantly. She was scared of men 'til she got to know them, when she did would genuflect embarrassingly. She whinged horribly if left in the car while Mum nipped to the hole in the wall for some cash, and latterly she stank out the house and ran up a huge vet's bill. But she was always pleased to see you, and loyal to a fault. She would pull Mum up a steep slope if she got stuck, would have happily chased sticks all day long, all year long, and would always contrive some way to fall into any body of water, puddle or ocean, she came across.

So Mum and Dad are somewhat at a loss now she's gone, especially Mum. She's filling her time with grandkids and visits, and contemplated getting another dog for a bit, but Tosca was a companion for 14 or so years and I suspect she feels it would be disloyal. Plus, she declared, she doesn't want another dog. She wants *her* dog back, and I can see her point.

Anyway, here's a picture of Rickity-coo, former racing pigeon, released (unwanted) from Cornwall, and now happily ensconced on the window-sill of Mum's living room. And very happy he seems too.

Attire

2010-01-25T16:32:00.002Z

I may have mentioned, we're getting married in May, Richard and I. How cool would it be if we could dance that this? Like, tappity tappity tappity tap MAD CIRCULAR ARMS AND GRINS twirly jump POSE. I have been watching too many dance competitions lately.

Sartorially speaking, though, there are three things I love about this shot. One, chiffon overlay done well = a good thing. Two, pale metallic shoes. I have, I like, me happy. And three, the buttonhole. Lately I have been reading up on buttonhole "arrangements." Magazines and florists, bless them, had me almost, ALMOST, convinced that not only would every male in the wedding party *have* to dress identically, fully accessorised with ties or cravats, pocket squares and socks all in "your colours," but they ought to have complete mini-bouquets pinned to the lapels. In your colours of course. Mum was even convinced that somehow wiring the flowers up would make them last longer... I'm no expert, but I don't think so. Anyway, here's what The Cutter and Tailor said about this no doubt very-important-to-you matter:

Boutonniere

A small white flower should be chosen. The flower should be passed through the button hole of the lapel. Better coats also have a boutonniere loop behind them so as to hold the flower secure.

If a flower (or worse still a busy bouquet with stems, leaves etc) is pinned onto the coat, it is a dead give away that the coat is a cheap rental garment, where the coat has a sham lapel buttonhole that will not permit a flower to be passed through it

Hang on?! I don't have to pay, say, £18 per person for a rose/lily/orchid bouquetwotsit? Some people go further. They say that pinning these wotsits on wrecks one's lapel. And that the buttonhole on the left hand side of your man's lapel is actually for putting a single flower through. AND - get this - there's a little loop of thread on the underside of the lapel to secure said single bloom. Oops yeh he said that above. It was worth repeating though. So, anyway, there's nothing wrong with the arrangment things. I even love many of them. But I no longer feel obliged to insist upon them, when a single medium-sized bloom simply tucked in is the "correct" thing anyway. So I think on the day I'll just plonk a little hourglass vase of mixed white blooms on the hall table, write "Buttonholes" on a little luggage tag and tie it round the neck (of the vase, not Richard, unless he makes too many off-colour jokes in the run-up to the whole thing), and that will be that. Simples.

ps: Check out this funny paragraph on the subject.

Flustration

2010-01-16T15:15:00.000Z

So yeah, William and I went to Ireland. It was like this: worst weather of the year snow ice snow sub-zero temperates most of country has ground to a halt BUT I MUST GO TODAY, bus, really late, panic, panic, train station, can't get the right ticket, mild panic, train to Glasgow, relief, go wrong way, panic, train, relief, the train is faulty and driver tries to fix, panic, he fails, ignores it for the rest of the journey and carries on, relief, change at Ayr, Baltic, William shouts "Raaar" at girl dressed as Yeti in trendy furry parka, another train, but this rain is empty but for us, mild panic, there's no-one at the ferry terminal PANICPANICPANIC, nice man at train station lets us into his warm office and directs us to the car terminal, 400 yards staggering over pure ice-rink ice panicpanicpanic, car terminal = ghost town (but open at least) relief, drunk Belfast man tries to cadge a light "You don't smoke?! That's ridiKu-lus" THERE ARE NO STAFF panicpanicpanic, find staff, relief, ticket, ahhhh, 4hours onna boat, bored, oh there's Dad, hurrah!

No? Maybe you had to be there.

Anyway we took the bus home at the end of the week and it was spectacular. Cobalt misty seas with flocks of ducks, swans, cormorants drying themselves on volcanic rocks. Snow-covered pine tree and hills with wind-blasted trees starkly outlined in white, and finally a swan flying low over the snow as we drew into Newburgh. The way out, by the way, could have made me weep with flustration. The snow was still deep and pristine, and the texture of its undulations was revealed by the most amazing pure, deep gold light at sunset. But no photographs, not one. When I am rich I will buy a double-decker coach and sit on the top, at the front. It won't smell of diesel or mould, and when I ring a bell the driver will pull over so I can open the window or hop out with my zillion-pound camera. Maybe an ancient large-format bellows arrangement. Any inconvenienced drivers would recieve chocolate from my glamourous assistant and everyone would be happy.

No? You definately had to be there, anyway....

Charmed I'm sure

2010-01-14T20:22:00.000Z

You know, when you're two, a cheeky smile gets you a lot of free stuff. Things Wot William Cadged This Week:

1) Free travel. They don't bill him, by reason of being small and stuff. All toddlers are expert at cadging free travel for themselves
2) A fruit pastille (actually he was offered the whole bag) and Rudy the One-Eyed Reindeer from the security guard at the ferry terminal
3) A carton of milk from the food place on the ferry
4) Activity bag (colouring-in and a balllooooon)
5) His very first haircut!
6) Cookies, this morning

And that ain't even including multiple cadges from doting relatives....

2010-01-03T17:18:00.000Z

2009-12-27T16:51:00.000Z

We NEVER get snow like this - great, pillowing, drifting clouds of the stuff. And usually, it's sooo much better being grown-up, but today I envied the kids screaming down the steep hill of the park on sledges. Even though I was pootling about with my own toy :D

Let it snow....

2009-12-23T15:23:00.000Z

Oh but town is wonderfully, thickly iced. In our mild gulf-stream-warmed climes we only get proper snow Christmas once a decade or so: a good four inches right down as far as sea level, and William and I ought to be out with sledges and wellies and soaked gloves making snowmen BUT we're all still poorly. So we're humming "the weather outside is frightful" and playing with balloons and cars and the big blue puppet vulture he got for his birthday yesterday, and the snow will have to wait.

Milk, cream and alcohol

2009-12-14T22:10:00.003Z

Above is one of the greatest blues tunes of all time. (That I've heard, I haven't heard them all. Obviously.) But it is brilliant, and entirely appropriate for we are all suffering from the lurgy and have sore throats and aches and pains and streaming eyes and eye bags and stuffed noses, running noses and coughs. Some remedies have worked brilliantly, others have fallen by the wayside, and I wonder if milk, cream and alcohol might sometimes have been more effective...

William is finding anything Thomas the Tank engine-related very soothing, and one of Santa's helpers dropped by today to give him his gift from Nippers toddler group as he missed his visit to the christmas bash (what with the snotty nose and hacking cough). He had no idea he'd missed all the fun though, and had a great time with his pressie! We've been soft and given him a noisy Thomas book and big car which were meant to be for his birthday next week... Hey, maybe we could put them away for and day or two and wrap them up for birthday unveiling? Genius.

On a side note, Richard wonders if the Island of Sordor is next to Mordor... meh, the Fat Controller could take Sauron any day.

2009-12-11T15:20:00.001Z

We ought to observe also that even the things which follow after the things which are produced according to nature contain something pleasing and attractive. For instance, when bread is baked some parts are split at the surface, and these parts which thus open, and have a certain fashion contrary to the purpose of the baker's art, are beautiful in a manner, and in a peculiar way excite a desire for eating. And again, figs, when they are quite ripe, gape open; and in the ripe olives the very circumstance of their being near to rottenness adds a peculiar beauty to the fruit. And the ears of corn bending down, and the lion's eyebrows, and the foam which flows from the mouth of wild boars, and many other things- though they are far from being beautiful, if a man should examine them severally- still, because they are consequent upon the things which are formed by nature, help to adorn them, and they please the mind; so that if a man should have a feeling and deeper insight with respect to the things which are produced in the universe, there is hardly one of those which follow by way of consequence which will not seem to him to be in a manner disposed so as to give pleasure. And so he will see even the real gaping jaws of wild beasts with no less pleasure than those which painters and sculptors show by imitation; and in an old woman and an old man he will be able to see a certain maturity and comeliness; and the attractive loveliness of young persons he will be able to look on with chaste eyes; and many such things will present themselves, not pleasing to every man, but to him only who has become truly familiar with nature and her works.

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book III

I'm feeling inspired by this passage today! It's especially calming as I look at the wonky Christmas tree. Yeah, it's better that way, that's right :D

Happy Ten...

2009-12-09T18:56:00.000Z

Two favourite men.

Happy Nine

2009-12-09T01:06:00.001Z

A reindeer from 2007!

I have just watched Kirstie's Homemade Christmas, in which Ms Allsop makes lots of lovely Christmas decorations herself - or, to be more accurate, has a go then gleefully takes delivery of the rest of the lovely hand-blown baubles, real garlands and so on obliging craftspeople have made for her. Frankly you'd need considerably more time than, well, anyone, to do it all and I'm not surprised. Having said that, her finished home looked beautiful, I'm feeling inspired, and the Christmas cookie cutters may well come out again. I haven't baked for the tree since just before William was born (funny, that!) but perhaps he's old enough to do some helping this year. We'll be hauling the decs out this week and studding oranges with cloves and perhaps foraging for evergreens. Perhaps we should call it Freeishmas? Ummm, on second thoughts... nah.

Happy Eight

2009-12-04T23:12:00.001Z

There is something very soothing about a really good *whinge*.

Happy Thing Seven

2009-12-04T00:45:00.000Z

This is my blue silk dressing-gown. My lovely brother Eoin brought it back from a holiday in Hong Kong, oh I don't know, ten years ago now? More? It has been washed so many times that the sapphire-blue colour has faded a little, the fabric is softer, warmer, and a little thinner, and it has a tear just above the pocket. And I love it even more now than when I first got it! Call me a sentimental fool, but clothes and bedsheets and textiles of all sorts which have used and washed a thousand times and are beautifully soft as a result are my favourite things to wear and use. My favourite pillowcase isn't part of a neatly matched set: it has a pale-blue-and-white 70s floral pattern on, and I'll always treasure (and wear) the jumpers which Mum knits.

Ah, the old ones are the best...

Happy Six

2009-12-02T18:27:00.000Z

A nice cup of tea and a sit down while William and Mr Friend take their afternoon nap. The biscuit du jour is a lovely oaty HobNob. Always hits the spot, does a HobNob.

Happy number five

2009-12-01T23:15:00.001Z

Yesterday and today, tomorrow too, my task is to sift through my digital archive. Sometimes it's been depressing: so many almost-good shots that just needed a better angle, or a tripod, more accurate focusing, a Polaroid filter, (most often) better light. I really want (she whinged. Bad workman always blames his tools *cough*) an external flash or two. Ring flash. A lovely big softbox. I am rambling! The best pictures, technically, are the botanics with good natural light, but the ones which bring a big smile to my face are of course those of family and friends. Happy number five! Having some of them printed is my Christmas present to myself.

Happy number four: being right

2009-11-30T20:07:00.000Z

Last night, with one thing and another, I was feeling slightly frazzled. Richard, the lovely man, brought me a delicious spiced hot chocolate in bed, sort of like a light version of liquid Maya Gold chocolate. Willy Wonka would have been envious. The stress slid off as I sipped it gratefully. "Ummm.... What's in it?"

"Nutmeg..."

"That'll be the citrus taste"

"...a touch of cinammon, a smidge of clove, and a teeny tiny weeny smidge of honey"

"Ooooh"

"Oh, and a special secret ingredient."

The poor man barely had time to start a smug grin, as some perceptive part of my brain took charge and blurted "Vanilla," and then the rest convulssed with mirth at his reaction.

"What! You! How? You!" He turned slightly puce, giggling and gesticulating in mock rage. "Yoink! Thunder, my! You stole!"

I'm often stupid, but my gosh it's nice to be right every so often.

Hehee.

Happy Number Three

2009-11-29T21:11:00.002Z

Check out this lady on street fashion blog The Sartorialist. Wow! Some commentators focused on her choice of fur, or that she should've worn sunscreen (I doubt it was invented when she was young.) But that's not the point - she just oozes strength of character. What scandals has she been party too? How many stories could she tell? - if she liked you, that is.

Back in St Andrews, I was introduced to an amazing lady in my first year. Janet Inglis Sykes, always "Bunny" to her friends, though she didn't remember why. She was into her tenth decade, but still living alone, her small flat stuffed to the gunnels with artefacts of a life fully lived: a necklace from the tomb of Tutankhamun, real Persian carpets (afraid she would trip on them, eventually they made her take them up), a shield given to her husband from an Afghan tribe, back when he headed the RAF in the region, a beautiful papercut portrait of her under which she would sit, sipping tea and eating the gingerbread I brought, and telling the most amazing stories of her life. She travelled the world, spoke five or six languages, climbed mountains, made friends with everyone she met, learned to fly, photographed for the National Geographic. Maybe I could fill another blog with her tales! I thoroughly regret not taking a tape recorder with me to keep her exact turn of phrase in somewhere other than memory. She was so bright, so lively I suppose it didn't really sink in that she was coming to the end of her days; I still miss her.

Anyway, that's happy number three: people with a tale to tell. Most do.

Happy Number Two

2009-11-28T21:56:00.002Z

Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street? 'Cos I want to go! Sesame Street is fully awesome. The animated alphabet songs! The liberal ethos!* The Count!

Take Ernie's rubber ducky song (an actual hit in Germany, apparently**). William has been having a bit of trouble at bath time lately. He developed the horrors of the bath for some unknown reason, and was point blank refusing to get in (I washed him in the sink instead.) After three viewings of the rubber ducky song and some gentle persuasion, guess what? The bath's fun again! That's right, Sesame Street has saved my son from years of school bullying for being grubby.

The Cookie Monster is legendary:

Other TV shows feature annoyingly chipper purple dinosaurs; Sesame Street has a dirty green, sarcastic and ever-so-slightly scary trash can monster. It educates its preschool audience without patronising, and even manages to slip in a few jokes for the grownups. (Bert speaking on a pretend banana/phone to Gladys the (pretend) Elephant: "Oh yes I'm very tall and handsome. Blonde. No, I don't think it's a good idea to meet up.") Kermit's original version of It's Not Easy Being Green has a real pathos. And then of course, SS gave rise to The Muppets, and they have several more shades of cool.

Sesame Street, I salute you.

*Could it be responsible for the election of Barack Obama? When Sesame Street started, the state of Mississippi apparently banned it for a while as it "wasn't ready" for the racial integration in the show, now that America has been watching it for four decades, a black American President. A direct correlation? I think so ;P

**According to wiki, so who knows....

Happy number one

2009-11-27T19:00:00.001Z

Check me out! Lovely My Spare Thoughts gave me a pair of blog awards. I am amazing. ;P

But with great power comes great responsibility, and now I must tell you ten things. As it happens, I got a lovely letter from The Queen* this morning to say she owed me some money, the rain cleared for long enough for a walk and I am in a Good Mood. I am more like The Pig of Happiness than Pig A, today (go 45 s. in to skip the intro.):

To celebrate the passing of the rains, I shall share ten thing which bring a smile to my face, over the next ten days.

Number one is: you. I like the interweb, I think social networking is A Good Thing, and that blogging is particularly cool. It's just the perfect antidote to being brought down by things like the news, which tends to be 10% stuff you need to know, 10% whimsy and 80% massive downer. Yeah, you rule.

*Well, not, Her Majesty herself, you know, HM's Revenue & Customs.

ps: Check out the gallery on Edward Monkton's site. Hehe.

pps: There is something slightly Orwellian about the Pig of Happiness, don't you think? Wouldn't like to cross him, s'all I'm saying.

ppps I accidently published this for the wrong day, so apologies if it appears twice

An open letter to the weather

2009-11-24T19:03:00.001Z

Here is a happy fish.

His name is Ray (perhaps. I may have made that up.) he is a ray fish (definitely) and he lives in a lovely big watery water tank, being happily scratched on his nose by delighted tourists and small children.

Like I said, Ray is a Happy Fish.

Here's the thing though.

I AM NOT A FISH.

So, if it could stop raining about now, that would be excellent.

Thank you.

2009-11-22T02:14:00.000Z

It's been a funny old week. Funny peculiar, mostly.

This week, His Nibs has been getting in a lot of practice with one of his New Words. As we stare out of the window of a morning at the branches of the dripping tree outside, the cars splashing by, the random and rapidly-appearing concentric rings of droplets as they hit the puddles, the... you get the point.

"Wrainey."

Yup. That it is, and well observed.

We've had the odd dry-ish patch too though, sunshine through the clouds, and I've had a slightly rocky sort of week too. As we were about to set out for a walk at the start of the week, next door's cat was run over outside the house. He was killed straightaway and a passerby took him off the road. I was a little shaken, but of course his poor owner was dreadfully upset. We did our best with helping to take the cat in and making the lady hot tea but not the circumstances under which I'd have liked to have met her. William had no clue what was going on, at least. In fact, later in the week he became (still is, to a degree) obsessed with Simon's Cat, a brilliantly-observed series of short cartoons. For a person of limited vocabulary, William makes his views extraordinarily clear. Take for instance the first words out of his mouth yesterday morning: "Da. Miaow. Go!" Translation: "Father. You shall convey me to the Amusing Cat. Now!"

I had a grand old time learning more about relational databases (which are surprisingly clever and interesting) for an interview I didn't get, and got a bit down about that. The lack of interview, not the databases. Then I picked up, of all things, an old book of Richard's: Marcus Aurelius' Meditations. A fair bit of this book was pure mince, and dense mince at that, but there was a sort of attitude, the odd line, the odd paragraph which was well and truly uplifting and inspiring. I highly recommend it.

Ups and downs, then, this week, but we finished on a high at least, with friends coming over bearing food for a delicious pot luck dinner today (we made cranachan like this only with normal oats and Talisker).

2009-11-17T23:38:00.000Z

One of those "Laaaaa!" moments today on our walk in the park, do you know what I mean?

It rained 15 minutes later, I suppose I should have seen it coming!!

Dreaming of hobbit houses

2009-11-16T12:31:00.002Z

I'm in lurve.

There is a lovely website all about this house - click here. It's mostly reclaimed and recycled materials, and only took 4 months and cost £3000 to build! Amazing.

It looked like a mad cobweb as it went up:

And so cosy on the inside once it was done!

Me want.