Finishing books

As most people close to me know, I am a prolific reader. Mainly of sci-fi and fantasy books, and I am not the most discerning of readers, usually devouring whatever I pick up (probably the only really notable exception being Ian M Banks - I just can't get through the first few chapters of his books.)

I'm not a very discriminating reader - obviously, there are stand-out books that just take your breath away, but I get equal levels of enjoyment from a 'trashy' fantasy book (full of cliches, plot point a-z storyline, cardboard characters) as I do from something that is well written and well grounded.

Every time I finish a book for the first time, I have to take a few minutes to regather myself. It's not something I have to do on re-reading a story, but the first time one ends, I feel a deep sense of loss. I have been transported into another world, with characters that are as real to me as those that I meet. When something good happens to those characters, I am overjoyed. When something bad happens, I feel the emotion (to the point that I had to stop reading on the train this week as I was about to cry in public). And when the book finishes, all of that is over. I will never again get the exploration into the unknown - I may re-read the story, but it will now be familiar - I know what will happen before the characters do. The enjoyment will still be there, as will the escape into another world, but it will not be the same.

So, if you see me sitting still with a closed book in my hand, let me rest quietly for a few minutes. I will tell you all about the book shortly, but for now, I need to mourn.

Scotland the Wonderful

So....
It has been a while since posting - apologies! We've been away for a while (5 days in Scotland, and then the following weekend down to the in-laws), so I've not had much of a chance for posting.

Scotland was amazing. Every time I visit, I am struck by the beauty of the country - I have been in love with it since my first visit about 15 years ago. If it wasn't for the fact that it gets so cold (I don't *do* cold at all...), I would be up there permanently.

We were there for the wedding of two of our friends, at a gorgeous location right on the edge of Loch Lomond. John and I were very lucky - our room at the hotel looked out over the loch...

This was the view from our bedroom window.


This was the sunset on the Friday evening two minutes' walk from the hotel.

The wedding itself was brilliant - Sarah looked amazing in her dress, complete with grey cloak and elven circlet, and she turned into a warrior princess whilst weilding the knife for cutting the cake! (I'm sure she scared the photographer...) She went up the aisle to the Dance Macabre, and I really hope that she has the same reflex grin that I get when listening to the Arrival of the Queen of Sheba.

There was a ceilidh afterwards, and John and I danced our socks off! Obviously, as the wedding was in Scotland, there were a few experts, and I don't think that the caller was quite prepared for the number of people who really didn't know what they were doing (as evinced by the fact that he had to stop calling at one point because he was laughing so much!) But it was great fun - the first time I've ever seen people dancing the Gay Gordons to "Postman Pat" - the music mutated in the middle of the dance, and watching the "It can't be... It is!" look spread across people's faces was fantastic.

After the wedding, the group of six of us from the South West stayed in the Loch Lomond area for a couple of days, having hired a car, to make the most of our time in Scotland. We stayed at the Oak Tree Inn, a pub/hotel that I can't recommend highly enough. The staff were so friendly and helpful, the food was amazing (I am determined to ferret out their recipe for Mars Bar Cheesecake...), and the location was stunning. And, as we were there out of season, there were very few people around - once we strolled down to the loch, the only sounds we could hear were the birds singing. Even better, from my wildlife loving mindset, was that the birds had not had enough negative contact with people to be scared of them. We were used as chasing posts for a male chaffinch determined to catch up with his lady love (sadly no picture of this - they were too fast), a robin guarding his territory:

a very inquisitive raven:

two swans who wanted to dabble like ducks:

A chicken who wanted to cross the road:

an island full of cormorants:

as well as wrens, blackbirds, ducks and gulls.

The loch was just gorgeous, and we were so lucky with the weather - blue skies and sunshine for pretty much the whole holiday. I think we all turned into slight artists with our cameras, all looking out for good shots :-) The scenery was so peaceful - the landscape really humbles you, the mountains telling you, "We were here a thousand years ago, we will be here in a thousand years' time. Your day to day stresses and strains really don't make a difference to us." It really helped to be able to wrap that peace around me, and to think that whatever happens, the mountains will always be here. (and yes, for the pedants amongst us, I know that geologically speaking, they won't, but for a recordable period of time, they will...)

Here are some of my favourite photos, capturing the peace and the colour of Loch Lomond.
















PS - I worked out how to get photos working in posts! ;-)

Car off the road again...

It definitely hasn't been our year for motoring! To start with, there was the accident, then a near month without a car before we bought the Toyota. Then, at the beginning of January, the brakes failed on the car - they went in a rush from being fine when we drove to the pub, to not feeling right when I drove home a few hours later, to having pretty much no braking power at all the next day. A trip to the garage confirmed that the reservoir that holds the fluid had split, and there was nothing left... Fortunately, a couple of £100 later, the car was back on the road. Till Friday night.

John picked me up as normal from Parkway just before half six, and we started heading home, chatting as we usually do about the events of the day and the plans for the weekend. We stopped at the red lights of the pedestrian crossing to allow some people to cross the road. As they reached the pavement, the car behind us failed to notice either the red lights, or the fact that we were stationary, and with a loud bang, went straight into the back of us. Fortunately, first off, no-one was hurt (though John and I have both had a bit of stiffness, neither of us have developed full blow whiplash. Even though one of my colleagues has told me to claim for it anyway (which I think is immoral and wrong!) - I don't have the time to be laid up with neck pain...), and there was no-one left on the crossing. We were able to exchange details, just about, with the Russian man who had been driving. He had his insurance certificate with him, which I think is a good thing, as he barely understood what we were asking for! (John believes that he was smelling of dope as well - I have a very heavy cold at the moment, and can't smell a thing, so I can make no comment).

As with my accident, I was so suprised by the number of people who stopped to see if there was anything they could do to help; the First Aider, who came straight over, first of all to see if anyone was hurt, and then secondly to direct traffic around the accident till we could move the cars. She left without me saying thank you. The couple who had been crossing, who not only lent me a pen so that we could write down details (first time in ages I'm not carrying pen and paper on me...), but also gave us their contact details so that if there were any issues they could corroborate the fact that we were stationary and at the crossing (they didn't see the accident itself, but had clocked that it was us letting them go past).

Even better, or so we thought, the Toyota was still driveable - the bumper was a bit dented, the boot squashed a bit out of shape, and the lights, although still attached and not broken, were hanging off (they sort of popped back in, but would need a bit of tape to actually keep them on at any speed). So at least our weekend plans (which involved driving to Swindon for a Fforde Ffiesta meeting, and going to a friend's for pancakes on Sunday) wouldn't be disrupted.

Unfortunately, the insurance company begs to differ - apparantly slightly loose lights and a possible dodgy boot means that the car is automatically unroadworthy. And, even more galling, because of the age of the car, it is also likely to be a write off :-( They are sending out an engineer today.

Fortunately, we are not as stuck as we were last time - the insurance provides for a courtesy car, and hopefully it will not take as long to sort out.

On a much brighter note - the sun is shining, and, after a very heavy frost this morning, it is glorious outside. I just wish that I carried my camera out with me - the pigeons were bathing in the fountains on Bristol City Centre this lunchtime - some standing right under the spray, and all looking like they were very glad of the Spring time bath!

Autumn Days take 2

I have Sitemeter on my blog - you might have noticed the little symbol in the top right hand corner. One of the nice things that Sitemeter does is tracks people that access my blog, and sends me a little report every week - not a scary report, but one that means I know, in the absence of a traffic counter, how many people are reading my work, and whereabouts they come from (over the last week, as well as the many UK and US readers, I've also had visitors from Israel, Romania and France). It also tells me what Google Search terms have been used to access my blog, and one of the ones that has been coming up a lot is "Autumn days, when the grass is jewelled", which links through to my post from last autumn. The first couple of these I ignored, but I'm getting two or three a week - I never knew that the old school hymn was so popular! Even more scary, when I actually put the search into Google, without " " marks, my blog comes up 6th, and with them, it's third!

So, to help out those who are looking for the words to the hymn (which was one of my favourites at school), here they are:

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

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

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

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

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

And for the people who have been looking for a download of the song - I can't find an mp3 version of it, but another website has a YouTube link (I can't actually hear the link from work, so I'm trusting that it works!):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9mvrkQbzgc

Differences

It occurred to me as I walked home this afternoon that when my mother was my age, she was four months pregnant with her first child (me). She was considered to be an ‘old mother’, at risk because of the late stage of having her firstborn. Yet now, when I’m being told that another of my school friends is pregnant (only the fifth or sixth that I know of), it’s a surprise that she is having a child so young. I don’t know, maybe it’s because I still don’t feel old enough to have a child myself. The question of producing my own offspring has definitely moved from a “never” to a “when”, and the timing is going to be dependant on when we get out to New Zealand (I have to be working for 12 months with one employer in order to get maternity pay, which, even though it is very low compared to the UK (12 weeks of income), is better than nothing!). I am hoping that when John and I do finally decide to have our own child (whether that becomes children is completely open – we’ll have to see what happens with the first one!!), I will feel slightly less immature than I do right now, and better able to cope with taking on the responsibility for the care and upbringing of another life.

Round the corner

It might just be because the sun is shining for the second day in a row (nice weather at a weekend? Unheard of!), but it definitely feels like Spring is peeking round the corner. Not quite here yet – there is still a bit of ice in the wind (particularly when you are facing into it for half an hour at 4pm waiting for someone to try to score a goal), but that ice is starting to melt. The trees are still bare, but some of the bushes on the walk to the station are starting to bud – one has a few flowers hidden amongst its thorns, and one is coated with the bright green of new leaves.

I did some repotting at the beginning of January – the flat we are in doesn’t have a garden, but does have a garden path, so I have a number of plant pots with various bulbs in outside the front door. The gladioli are shooting up so fast that you can almost see them growing, and I’m sure that a couple of the daffodils are also starting to peek above the surface. What has surprised me is how fast the garlic is coming up – my mother-in-law gave me a bulb to plant out – I realised with about five cloves left that I probably ought to actually put some in soil, rather than just eating it, so there are three cloves in a pot. One of them has already broken the surface, and I’m now left wondering how you can tell when garlic is ready? I’ve never planted it before, so have no idea of when I’ll be able to dig it up and eat! (probably when the neighbours start complaining about the smell…)

The sun is streaming through the window right now (I’ve had to draw the curtain slightly so that I can see the computer screen), and the warmth inside the flat is lovely. Even better was the rather surprised observation from one of my colleagues this week; “It’s half past four, and it’s still light!” Even though the turning of the seasons is inevitable, it still comes as such a wonderful feeling to know that the back of Winter has been broken, and that the sunshine (and showers) of Spring is (are? Grammatically do you have to count something in brackets for is/are in a sentence?) waiting for us. It makes the walk to work a bit more bearable.

On My Own

John is in London this weekend at a Dr Who Fan Olympiad, so I have the flat to myself. However, this hasn’t been the weekend of rest and relaxation that I thought it would be when the trip was first talked about a few months ago. Aside from the getting John to the station for 7am (not something I begrudge – he has ferried me about far more than I have returned the favour – but still quite a difficult get up on a Saturday morning!), yesterday I also had a hockey match and an orchestral concert, and this morning, I was up at 9am (not overly early, but still not great for a Sunday…) to get into Bristol City Centre to buy tickets for the Beer Festival. I’m not a beer drinker at all (I’ve tried on numerous occasions – I have once managed to finish a whole half pint, but felt so ill afterwards that I’ve not tried again), but I love ciders and perries, and I am sure that, with 40 on offer, even with drinking half pints, I’m still not going to get a chance to have them all before the last train leaves (we are going on the Friday evening after work – the train companies in their wisdom have decided that the last train from BTM to Parkway should be 10pm) – I think if I try, I might end up in hospital!

However, the rest of the day is mine to do with as I please (well, at least until 7.40, when I head out to Tae-Kwon Do) – however, I’ve already lined a lot up to do (and yes, writing a blog post or two was one of the items on the list – I’m aware that it’s been a while!), including attempting to get out to Sainsbury’s before they shut – the house is running dangerously low on food. Other items that will probably be procrastinated away include doing a bit of washing up (I got one load done yesterday, but there are still very few surfaces in the kitchen without some clutter on them!), clothes washing (well, I have actually done that – the clothes are sat in the washing machine waiting for me to get up and put them out on the racks), writing up minutes from the last Family Centre for Deaf Children meeting, which was at the beginning of January. To be fair on myself, I had intended to get these minutes done a lot earlier, but some very late nights at work, and working through lunchbreaks meant that the last thing I wanted to do when I got home was sit in front of a computer screen all evening as well!

I’m very aware that it’s been a while since I posted – since I last talked about playing hockey, I’ve had another two matches and a few more practices (one match in the rain, which, for the poor players on the pitch, turned into a wet t-shirt contest – whoever decided that white was a good colour for the away strip must have been a bit mad. I was lucky for that one – being goalie meant that I could wear my tracksuit underneath all the padding, and, though damp, was not as bad as everyone else!). We still haven’t won a game since I started playing, which I feel quite bad about (we are languishing near (or at) the bottom of the league). Playing Cleve last week, we expected to lose – the last time Bristol Ladies played them, Cleve won despite only having 8 (out of 11) players on the pitch and no goalkeeper. I only found out the final score a few days later, as I lost count of how many they put past me after the fifth! (it was 9-1…) However, yesterday’s match should have been won – it ended up being 3-0. One of those goals was a good one, which I couldn’t have stopped, but the other two were silly mistake ones (one was a through the legs shot – I need to work out how to move quickly *and* keep my feet together! The other was one of those kerfuffle shots – I stopped it once, thoughts I’d cleared it, and the next thing I knew it was in the back of the goal. Humph.) But I’m still really enjoying it – my back is aching a bit today (not sure why – all the work is coming from my hips and knees, but they don’t seem to mind. I think that my back is just trying to malinger...), but I’m sure that a good TKD session this evening will sort it all out!

Work has been manic for the last couple of weeks, and I can’t see it lifting for at least two more – every government body is wanting to go out to tender for something, and it seems at the moment that it’s all for software that we do. Unfortunately, as the deadlines are absolute (we have been thrown out of a tender when it was delivered 17 minutes late), and the answering of the main questions seems to get left to very late in the day, when it comes to collation and actually getting the thing out of the door (the bulk of my work), long hours have to go in to make sure that it arrives on time. When I started doing this, there were enough lulls between tenders to mean that we could put the time in to make sure that there weren’t too many late nights or missed lunchbreaks. They did occur on the odd occasion, but it was once in a while, rather than nearly every one, as seems to be happening at the moment. A good chunk of it, I feel, is down to organisation, which is my job, and the need to streamline the tender process. Unfortunately, I need a good couple of days with nothing else to do in order to focus on those processes and to make them work. But more tenders come in, meaning that I don’t have the time to devote to this, leading to more inefficiencies. Ho Hum. It looks like we might be getting someone in who could help out (working on the sales side of things, but being more technical, meaning that they could answer the questions that the sales team struggle with (we can cope with “What software does your solution integrate with?”, but “How does your solution connect with x, y and z” gives us more of a problem!), meaning that we don’t have to wait for a gap in the developer’s schedule, with the resultant knock on effect on the tender timings.), but with the pace of recruitment, I’m not going to hold my breath!