Hieronymus Anonymous

Dance With The Rabbit

2012-01-15T18:07:00.008Z

Peh. You know how some people with depression get all super-creative and whatnot when it gets bad? Well, that is not me. I get all mumpy and boring. And I irritate myself. You think I'm annoying now? Try living in the same head as me!

Anyway, I had this ghastly stomach virus thing which led to me not absorbing my anti-mental pills for a couple of weeks, and now I'm having to put up with the stupid brain chemicals until the meds start working again. Fun, fun.

The virus has also left me with short-term lactose intolerance, which is bloody awful, as it means I can't eat cheese without a lot of pain. And you guys know how much I love cheese. We were in a supermarket cafe yesterday, and I came thisclose to breaking through the clear barrier and licking the macaroni cheese. *sigh*

Mind you, it gives me an excuse to google new recipes (like I need an excuse), and prompted me to make Thai chilli sauce from scratch last night, so that's good, I guess? Silver lining?

Whatever. I want cheese.

So, new year. New EXCITING year, as we've booked our time off work to go and see Nettie and Christian! Yeah, it's not until October, but that's only nine months away now, and therefore it is easily near enough for Nettie and I to start being intolerably excited. Nettie's already posted a list of things we're planning to do, so I won't recreate that here, but you can see from her blog that it's going to be AMAZING. We love Perth, and we love Nettie and Christian, and now I'm working myself up into a state of incomprehensible excitement (again), so I'll stop typing about that.

Other than that, nothing particularly of note has been happening over the last couple of weeks. Work, sleep, books, food, N64. That's about it. So have some pictures from over the festive period (not of my stomach virus, though. You should thank me for that). Many of them are of Zeph and Belle, so if you are uninterested in toddlers and dogs, now would be the time to stop looking at this post. Seriously. Close your eyes. Try and navigate away from the page using only your own innate power of internets.

This is either Dave reading to Zeph, or Zeph reading to Dave. I'm not sure which.

The look of awe on a nephew's face as he sees all the Christmas presents for the first time!

On the way back from (my only annual visit to) church, Huw and I found this. I was all "Look! That rust! It's a rabbit doing a dance! Dance with the rabbit!", so he did.

Matt and Rowenna were the Dingbat Winners. To the relief of everyone, because that meant the game was finished (it's a madly annoying game, yet we still always play it).

Once Thomas joined the cage match, it was all over bar the screaming.

Sometimes Belle is just so mad that even the two-year-old notices. Here, she's staring at the wall to see if her friends (light reflections) are going to come and visit.

Zeph LOVED his little motorbike.

Cutest dog in the world.

I played around on Photoscape with this one. I like it. It's very 70s.

A walk round the loch at New Year. It sleeted. And Zeph gave up on the way back.

Swans!

Zeph!

I love this one of my dad, Rowenna and Zeph taking a shortcut.

Awwww... Huw and Kirsty, looking handsome and pretty, respectively.

Travelling in style.

FESTIVE!

2011-12-18T18:56:00.010Z

The following are all jolly festive:

Tree

Wander

Carousel

Ice rink

Wreath

Big wheel

Snowman with Huw and Kirsty

Lights

Snow

Penguin with Matt and Huw

Giant snow globe

Pretzel

Matt

Fonzie the festive greyhound

Macaroni cheese

Mustard udders

Scary shop dummies

Reindeer

Cart and horses

Happy holidays, everyone!

Maybe You Won't See Them

2011-12-07T18:11:00.008Z

There's a snatch of humming blown in the wind. The woman comes into view. She's average height, average build. She wears a great warm coat and fur lined boots. Well, of course she does; the wind is bitter tonight.

She walks down the dark road at the side of the mountain all alone. Cars pass, and she is silhouetted in the glare of their headlights. Just a woman. But when the cars are gone, and the darkness descends like a curtain, she pushes back the hood on her coat and grins, a huge grin, at the moon. The sky is ringed with the fluorescent orange of the city but, up high, the stars are smiling back at her.

The woman is in no hurry. She hums her tunes and watches the world. She sees the lights that shape the buildings that shape the city; the towers and spires rearing up against the illuminations. She sees the patterns and shadows cast by the great wall of rock by the road, and she turns these into dragons and wolves and lizards to follow her. They scuttle and dance by her side as she continues on her way.

Soon, the woman comes to a village. The lizards twine their way up the lampposts, hanging as they taste the bulbs. The dragons soar to roost amongst the trees; to wrap themselves round the church steeple. The wolves sniff the air, and slink around the woman, suspicious. The woman continues her walk. Up the dimly-lit alleyway, and on to the street. There are lights in the houses at this time of year. Lights and gaiety and warmth. So much to look at.

Still, to see the woman, she is normal. No watcher would notice the wolves, spreading across the road like a river of fur and teeth. Nor the lizards, their elongated forms skittering behind her; or the dragons, old leathery wings smelling of time and decay. The woman's head turns from side to side now, looking, watching, seeing. She sees the vase of flowers in a window and the space around it. She sees a child's drawing proudly displayed. She sees the old man in the pub, nodding over a pint of beer, and the friends so lively as they chatter. She sees a table, set for dinner. Gradually, her pace slows. Although the night is only getting colder, she pulls off her knitted gloves and pushes them deep into her pockets.

The woman stands for a moment or two, tugging at her lower lip. She nods, and with a glance to her shadow creatures, chooses a house.

Then quietly, quietly, she opens the door.

Shazam

2011-11-19T16:50:00.004Z

Oh, the pretty clouds. Taken at the bus stop that we walk to in the mornings. It's not long until the dawn will be after we set off for work, though.

This is a display in one of the posh shops in George Street. I understand it's supposed to be the Nutcracker, but it's fucking terrifying. Especially at quarter to eight in the morning when we go past it on the bus. Note the man's shoe in its mouth. *shudders*

Misty castle.

We went down to Portobello today. We went to the butcher (pork and leek sausages and two types of haggis) and the fishmonger (coley and haddock) and we dropped into this deli to see what they had. We bought goat cheese, and venison pate. Om nom nom. I always laugh at their sign.

Matt took me to a greasy spoon for lunch. I was charmed by their version of an omelette. It was folded over, but all the cheese and onion and bacon were on the top. It was, however, pretty damn tasty.

Mislabelling.

I think I might have reverted back a few years, clothing-wise. I was wearing my short pirate trousers with clumpy boots and stripy socks, and my new Sunnydale High School t-shirt.

Later, taters!

Hakuna Matata

2011-11-15T17:56:00.007Z

I finished By The Pricking Of My Thumbs by Agatha Christie last night, and moved on this morning to Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury. I wasn't deliberately finishing the quote, it was just a cool coincidence.

Something Wicked..., by the way, is creepily scary. It has carnival freaks and people that can change you, and horrible repercussions for wishes. And it totally unnerved me - I was finishing it this evening by the light of the lampposts as I was walking home. Don't read creepy books in the dark. Word to the wise.

What else?
My birthday was on Sunday. It was a good birthday. I now have a brand new (well, old) N64 and all my favourite games. And I got to talk to Nettie, Matt made me a cheeseboard, and I had birthday truffles.

The weather's got deliciously chilly. I am making good use of my big warm coat with the fur lining and giant hood. Mmm, snuggly.

We've made a start on the new El Toro Fuerte ABC, too. It was an awfully fun thing to do on a Saturday night, even if all the cool people were out clubbing and whatnot. Don't hold your breath for it, though - we're only about a fifth of the way through, and it's got to be in order!

I also got my blood tests back from the doctor, and it appears (in their words) that I'm normal. So put that in your pipe(s) and smoke it, all you doubters!

So, as it is a nice chilly night, I'm off to make potato and leek soup.
Now, be good while I'm gone, or else.

Ola!

2011-11-09T17:46:00.006Z

It's been a busy old time recently.

Matt's been doing some crazy overtime, and my clearing out junk we don't need from the house has been ongoing. I'm pretty proud of the amount of stuff we are getting rid of - we have chucked out and recycled bags and bags of rubbish, and the items we're giving to the charity shop take up about half of the spare room. There's still a lot of work to do, but it's quite satisfying, really.

Unfortunately, I've had a horrible glandular cold for a little while, which takes it out of me a bit.

We've also had people round a couple of times, which is nice.

So this is just a quick hello from me and the family.

More next time!

No time!

2011-10-23T18:59:00.002Z

I'm lacking a proper update this weekend because we're doing a gigantic de-cluttering of the house and, well...

On the bright side, we've put out bags and bags of junk, filled the recycling boxes to the brim, and this picture shows the massive pile of stuff to go to the charity shop.

We're quite proud of ourselves.

Lush

2011-10-15T09:39:00.004Z

I've been reading a lot of books recently that feel similar to me. And I'm not sure why they do. Several of them are steampunk or Victorian themed, but I think the real likeness is the lushness of the writing. They're atmospheric, a bit macabre, and detailed in their descriptions.

The Tell-Tale Heart and Other Writings by Edgar Allan Poe.
Poe has always fascinated me. I heard 'The Raven' at about the age of eleven, and I adored the imagery and scansion.

The Food of the Gods and The Time Machine by H.G. Wells.
Classics of the genre. Despite my distaste for some of Wells' personal social beliefs, the man sure could write. Personally, and I know this is not a generally agreed on opinion, I much prefer The Food of the Gods.

Camera Obscura by Lavie Tidhar.
Oh, so gruesome. There are descriptions of unwanted surgeries, of mutilation, of horrible deaths and intricate plots. And yet... there is warmth and camaraderie, and paper-thin trust. There is a rich world peopled with characters of interest.

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie.
This is one of my favourite of her books (and you know what a huge Christie fan I am). I remember the terror when I first read it. This isn't a crime novel. There is no detective. There is just an island and ten people. And one by one they die.

The Haunting of James Hastings by Christopher Ransom.
This is a bizarre horror novel. It's part supernatural, part psychological. I was given this by a friend at work and, whilst I'm not sure it's one I'd reread, I did blame her the next day when I was exhausted. Because I was up until 1am finishing it, so I had a vague idea what the hell was going on. To be honest, I'm not sure if that's a recommendation or not.

The Coma by Alex Garland.
It's a neat little book - I read it in the time it took me go to and fro between the bus stop and work , and on my smoke breaks, in one day. So maybe 40 minutes of reading in all. It's quite absorbing, and features some lovely little woodcut illustrations by the author's father. It's a good read, but I think it's a little self-absorbed to have been a longer book. At the length it is, it manages to pull it off.

The Illustrated Man and The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury.
The Illustrated Man is my favourite book. The stories are haunting - they whisper around the back of your mind when you're thinking of other things. I remember first reading this book at my grandparents' house. I must have been about eight or nine. I remember sitting absorbed in the magic and the imagery and the worlds woven from words. I know that I must have not understood a lot of the nuances - I still discover new things every time I read it, after all - but it instilled in me a love of science fiction of this particularly atmospheric type. The Martian Chronicles is almost as amazing.

So, tell me of your books!

There's a party on my wall, and everyone's invited!

2011-10-01T16:59:00.012Z

Back to basics, my darlings!
If you walk up behind the museum in Edinburgh, there is a long wall which is for graffiti. I've posted pictures from it before, but they change relatively regularly, so here's some of the latest batch.

Warning: One of these features a monster vomiting and masturbating.
(Best sentence I've ever typed!)

I love this one. I have it as the desktop image on my phone.

Somebody'd obviously been paying attention to Charlie Sheen's breakdown.

Cute! I'd totally wear a necklace or hairclip of this.

I did warn you...

I... wish I knew. I really, seriously, wish I did.

Post-Apocalyptic

2011-09-29T18:44:00.002Z

As you probably know (no point pretending that people I don't know read this), I have been quite sartorially steampunk recently. Not proper steampunk, pure steampunk, but more steampunk / military / Agatha Christie novel / explorer. Tweed and buckled boots. Goggles and caps. Cropped leggings and waistcoats. Jewels from the depths of ancient temples, and big floomfy skirts.

But there's another look that's been hovering in my mind for nearly a week, and I don't know why.

I want to be post-apocalyptic. Black and grey and dull greens. Layers and layers, patched and worn. Fingerless gloves. A satchel and sturdy boots.

I want to be the character who knows their way around the post-apocalyptic world. Not the protagonist, but the one who helps them when they stumble across this wasteland. The one who can spy the dangers and read the signs. The one who's scavenging and has cobbled together a rudimentary generator. The one who's quick and surefooted and knows the terrain.
Because, despite their almost inevitable death, they're always the coolest character.

Sometimes we walk home on the path through the golf course. It's bounded by trees and tangles of rosehips, nettles, brambles and grass. We can see the odd glimpse of a person on the fairway, and we can hear noises, faintly, from the road at either end. And sometimes we pretend that the world is different. We hear a siren in the distance, and know it's the ten-minute warning before the darkness comes. We move quickly, keeping watch for the movements of the creatures beyond the bushes. We eye the compound to the left, making sure that there is no-one there.

I wouldn't want to live there, but it's a fascinating place to visit.

Odd stuff seen on holiday.

2011-09-26T18:54:00.000Z

Found in our room the first evening.

Flying dog!

Allegedly, Zeph drew this. I suspect it might largely have been my brothers.

Dave is a dhole.

The scariest children's ride I've ever seen.

Aaaaaaaaugust

2011-09-14T19:14:00.010Z

Well, August was quite a busy month for us. As my anti-mental pills kicked in, we got out and about more.
We went to the zoo for Matt's birthday.

We went to the circus.

We saw Mitch Benn and Phill Jupitus doing stand-up, and I met Neil Gaiman at the Book Festival.

I've got out of touching with blogging (I know. Again, right?), so I'm renewing my vow to myself. Blogging every week from now on. Pinky swear?
Have some birds, because this post is long enough.

We wouldn't even recognise ourselves...

2011-09-04T20:12:00.010Z

I have loads and loads of things to tell y'all about, and many pictures to share, but today I wanted to talk about something I've been pondering since yesterday.

Matt and I went grocery shopping, as we do most weekends. Normally we try to stick to what we need, but about once a month we splurge and buy more exotic foods. We were in the checkout queue, and we were eyeing our purchases.

When we met (12 years ago, minus two weeks!), we seldom cooked. We'd grill bacon, or put together simple pasta dishes. Mostly, we'd eat frozen lasagnes and oven chips.

Nowadays, our shopping features fruit, vegetables, pro-biotic yoghurts, couscous, reduced fat hummus and creme fraiche (I have a rule with things like this - if it doesn't affect the flavour, I'll choose low-fat. If it does, then I won't), fish, cheeses and meats. It certainly isn't some moral thing or even specifically a health thing. It just seems our tastes have changed.

We suspect that we might be middle-class ponces, whose pomposity knows no bounds.
We were certainly putting on the voices and going 'Ahawhawhaw' a lot at the supermarket...

I have been thinking about how we wouldn't even have contemplated buying this sort of stuff back when we met, and I was wondering what changed. Some theories:

Age: Maybe it is just that tastes change with age, as my mum always told me. If you'd told 19-year-old me that I would be enthusiastically eating courgettes and beans and aubergines and chickpeas, I would have ~~laughed in your face~~ probably nodded politely and assumed you were mad.

Cashflow: We are no way rich, but unlike 12 years ago, we are fortunate enough to have a decent-ish cashflow. This means we have more options.

Knowledge: For me, the best way to learn to cook was just to damn well do it. Other people learn other ways. Over the years, as I have moved from ready meal afficionado to enthusiastic cook, I have discovered that I'm not really a follower of recipes. When I find one I like, I will make the food to the recipe the first time, but then make substitutions, additions and subtractions on subsequent occasions to suit our tastes.

Experimentation: I made a joking passing comment on FB the other day regarding Matt and my's "quest to try every food in the world". That might be a slight exaggeration, but we're very excited by new foods, and that's almost entirely been inspired by people I know (Jay, I'm looking at you), books and blogs I read (especially Smitten Kitchen, with which I am infatuated), and just... pictures and flavours and imagination! I love love love when there's a day on which I'm wondering what to make for dinner, and my brain just goes "Well, we've got half a pack of feta. Ooh, and we have loads of peppers this week. Hmm, I wonder if we've got quinoa..." and it all snowballs from there.

Realistically, it's likely to be a combination of the above. And that's cool with me, because it's an infinite experiment! There are always new flavours and combinations and techniques to discover. I am having a ball with the cooking, and Matt's having a ball with the eating, so it's alllllllll good.

Hiatus

2011-08-13T00:16:00.004Z

Sooo... let's just call the last five (or so) weeks a mental health hiatus, shall we?

I knew my depression was back. I tried to deny it. But it was due to some severe prodding from my friend Allison, requests from Matt, and some very wise words from Nettie, that I took the plunge and went to the doctor about it.

I told her of the situation - that I was apathetic, that I'd had an emotional breakdown at work, that I'd tried the CBT techniques and they weren't doing anything. And I told her that, more than anything, I was very very scared because I could almost feel the cutting. That I haven't self-harmed in about five (or more) years but I was really, really tempted.

And she said that she thought I needed help.
So, I've been on the anti-depressants for four weeks now.

Guess what?
Well, I'm still not 100%, but I have the urge to write again. I am not just animated when other people are around as an automatic thing, but I really feel that way. For really real. I'm drawing again. I can genuinely feel optimistic.

Cliche time!
It actually does feel like I've come out from under a cloud. And whilst it may not be all sunshine and rainbows and kittens and unicorns, it's the sort of blustery, cold day that I love.
And that works for me.

Wholesale Destruction

2011-07-04T08:14:00.012Z

We went to Matt's parents house to knock down their porch thingy. The glass was already out of it, but there were concrete block walls and timbering to take out, as well as plastic roofing.
Safety was vital. Well, in as far as we took turns at wearing the protective helmet.

Matt started on the timbers at the back on Friday evening.

Matt and his father: "How do we get the roof to come down now we've taken out the woodwork and some of the brickwork?"
Me: "Hey, why don't we sort of pull this bit and smack it with a sledgehammer?"
It worked, too. I am a sexy, shoeless God of War.
Next morning we finished off the bit round the back.

And then we had to tackle the front. This comes up to the second storey at its peak, and the roofing was bolted onto the beams. So we went up on the roof (I know! I went on the ROOF!) to have a look from above. Turned out we could only get some of the bolts out without plummeting to our deaths, so we climbed back down.
Our technique was 'hit the wooden bits with the big sledgehammer until they catapult across the garden', which proved quite effective.

Also hauling. Lots of hauling.

Whack whack whack the timbering!

Pause for thoughtful staring. The roof, at this point, was only held on by one large beam along the top. We tried to work out how to bring it down.

Culminating in John's best idea yet. Hooray! Hit the roof with a ladder!

Then we knocked down the wall. My proudest moment - I'd been hammering away at a block, and the wall split so that a piece made up of four concrete bricks came off all in one lump. Matt and his dad were just saying that they didn't think it was going to split into individual blocks, and that we'd have to deal with it as a massive piece, when I gave it one more thump and it neatly divided into the four bricks. Muahaha. Total fluke, but still...

Matt's mum was in charge of feeding the starving troops.

And that's the culmination of our hard work - no porch thingy, and a massive pile of concrete blocks!

It was a lot of fun, and the worst injury that happened was when I was driving a wedge through the doorframe and the head flew off the small steel sledgehammer, bounced off the floor, and cracked me in the shin.
All my muscles hurt now, but it was worth it, as it seemed to kick my blues into touch, if only temporarily.

Motion Sensitive

2011-06-28T20:01:00.005Z

Lately I have been feeling apathetic.

I feel like only bad things have happened recently, however inaccurate that may be. Dresden died on Sunday after a rather lengthy illness and, since she died, Noser has started wheezing.

I've had issues with my holiday from work.

I feel physically hideous, and mentally like I'm motion activated - if there are other people about, I can react appropriately, but if I'm by myself I just want to sleep or read.

I have no interest in doing things. I have projects I have yet to start, and games I haven't played. I have partly-written blog posts in my saved folder with no end in sight.

I feel the urge to self-harm, but I'm too passive to actually do it.

I don't know what to do. So I am going to go shoot zombies in the face. That might help a bit.

How Matt Won His Damsel

2011-05-31T18:33:00.005Z

As mentioned previously, Matt and I have recently celebrated our ten-year wedding anniversary.
And I'm sure you'd all like to know how Matt managed to hook a high-class dame like myself, right?

Well, he kindly agreed to tell you (whilst refusing to be shown on the video).

Yes, he told me this awful pun. And, in the immortal words of Johnny Cash, I fell for him like a child.

On reflection, this doesn't seem like such a hot idea.

2011-05-21T07:59:00.004Z

It's Saturday. On Sunday, we are going to try dirt biking. I have been freely cracking jokes about limb breaking and so on, but I am honestly getting a little nervous. My mother's reaction... well, it didn't help. Even after I told her about all the safety gear I'll be wearing (and the fact that some of Matt's workmates are bringing their children). The tremulous voice as she whispered "Just... be careful, all right?" has made me maybe a tad paranoid.

The thing is, as you all know, I am a little accident prone. A touch on the clumsy side. I am assured that it is a charming quirk of character, and only makes me even more loveable, but it does make for a high-risk life. Also, it makes people assume some sort of tragedy will befall me. The secondary thing is, when I point out that I will probably be fine, these people (of whom there are quite a few) have a whole list of "what about the time?" examples. Damn them.

So, hmm.
1) Broken leg. Car accident, not my fault.
2) Cracked skull. Fell off a swing that I was trying to stand up on onto concrete. Not my fault, because the Council shouldn't have put concrete under the child's play park.
3) Broken finger. Fell off a wall that I was running along. Totally the Council's fault again for not having maintained the wall's physical integrity.
4) Broken wrist. Ok, this one was my doctor's fault, for real. She made me wear flat shoes because I was having a nerve issue in my foot. And then my trousers were too long, and I fell over. There is no way that was not her fault.
5) Broken toe. I dropped a full jar of sauce on it. Accidentally, I hasten to add. It's not my 'thing' to hurl pasta sauce at parts of my body (well, not whilst it's in the jar, anyway). Not my fault. It's... It was... Hmm. yeah, that one was my fault. But bonus points for catching it in a fold of dressing gown a week later and re-breaking it!

And that's just the breaks!
I'm sure some of my friends will remember years ago when I arrived at the forum in a panic from work because I'd accidentally stabbed myself in the hand with a knife I'd been using to open a parcel with, and I couldn't find the first aid kit. I don't remember who it was that suggested paper towels for stopping the bleeding and sellotape to hold the wound shut, but I am eternally grateful to you! (That's totally my favourite scar, by the way.)

Huh, and that's just reminded me about the time I accidentally sliced the edge off my finger at that very same workplace.

And that reminds me of myriad incidents.

Soooo... see title.
Don't worry too much, Matt knows to contact people if I do end up in A&E.

इन व्हिच इ से फुक्क आईटी

2011-05-08T09:44:00.019Z

Sorry for the breakdown in communication. I have no excuses for the first few weeks, but this last week was pretty much down to blogger being an ass. I changed to the new edit mode, which at first I thought was spiffy. Then I started having trouble with my photos. Then with the text. Then with the photos again. And finally, having managed to change the edit mode back, the formatting's still out of whack, and it started posting all my text in what looks like Arabic (see title). No idea why. I'm fairly sure the blame for that last one can't be apportioned to me, even if the rest can. The formatting is undoubtedly iffy in this post, and I have no idea what day it's going to claim to have been posted on, but it's going up anyway. So... it's like a mysterious adventure, isn't it?

The title, by the way, is in reference to these issues. It says "In which I say fuck it".

Anyway. On our wedding anniversary, we set off down South for a visit to my granny, aunt Hilary and uncle Nigel, none of whom we'd seen in ages.

Our bag choices left us looking a little like gender stereotypes. Even though both bags are mine (and the wee one is a toiletries bag that wouldn't fit in the large one).

We had a fairly meh train journey, due to arseholes making a racket, but we were so excited to be going, we didn't mind too much. When we got down there, Hilary picked us up from Peterborough station. We didn't do an awful lot that first evening, except that my aunt Jill turned up as well, which was pretty exciting, because we haven't seen her in even more ages.

The next morning was the Royal wedding. Poor Matt was stuck watching it with four women, but he had fun trying to point out the worst hat, and looking at the architecture.
The weather was gorgeous. We went for a walk round the village (including the cricket pitch) with my granny and her super-mobility scooter. Let me tell you, this woman gives no quarter! She buzzes along at high speed and if you stop to take a photo, well, you just have to run to catch up.

The village was having a celebration of the Royal wedding. This man (asides from looking awesome) is, I gather, a local councillor.

The village really is just unnecessarily pretty.

Hilary and Nigel's dogs, Billy (on the left) and Cassie.

Billy rather thinks he's a lap dog. Accidental photo of him mid-leap onto Nigel...

Don't get me wrong, it's adorable that he likes to snuggle, but it's best when he doesn't put his entire weight on your lungs.

The next day, we wandered down to the post office, then went to the church for a coffee morning. Celebratory local pub decorations.

Mysterious statue in the church. As Jill pointed out, it had clearly been outside for some time, as it's pretty weathered.

I love these windows.

The church is a bit of a hodge-podge, dating from all different eras.

Clem!

On Saturday afternoon, we took the dogs for a walk. Cassie manages to hold a ball in her mouth AND hang her tongue out the side.

Billy needed a helping hand when his ball-onna-string got caught in the tree.

We went out to dinner at the pub on Saturday, then just had time to take in an antiques fair with Hil and Nigel before heading home. It was an amazing little break. It was so nice to see everyone.

And here we go - interesting little fact. This is a portrait of Michael Faraday as a young man. Theoretically, I am related to him in the most tenuous way - my great great aunt married a man who was descended from his sister. Unfortunately, there's not a lot of information on this, and it could be entirely spurious. I'm still claiming it as an awesome nebulous possibility, though.

Streams of consciousness.

2011-04-10T12:06:00.001Z

Yeah, you might have guessed that I'm in a dry spell, writing-wise.

I can't make any of the large amorphous ideas crystalise, and that leaves me at a bit of a loose end when it comes to writing posts, I'm afraid.

So, instead of lapsing (too much) into non-blogging, I'm just going to try and carry on. Putting up random pictures, and random links. The writing will come back sooner or later.

Because I was tagging my photos of the shelves, I was reading up on Fluorite this morning. Wiki says "The word fluorite is derived from the Latin root fluo, meaning "to flow" because the mineral is used to increase the fluidity of slags used in smelting flux." This is fascinating (I love learning new things), and the description also sparks other memories for me.

It reminds me of Wierdale (where we no longer go, as it was somewhere we went from my granny and grandad's house). And the reason it sparks memories is because when you wandered back down the valley at dusk, you could see the tiny crystals of fluorite glowing in the stream, there being more (although 'more' is a tricky word to use here) UV at dusk. So, yeah. Flowing streams and fluidity in general. Isn't it funny how your brain works?

Speaking of brains, does anyone else ever get a weird freaked out feeling when they suddenly realise that their eyes are just light-receiving holes for their brain to peer out of? No? Just me?

On that awkward note, I'll just throw some random photos up here.

Whole monkfish! The fishmonger said that it's expensive because 2/3 of the fish is wasted. I'm guessing most of that is head. Terrifying head.

Secret allotments! They are at the entrance to an industrial estate. I'd never have guessed they were there had we not had to go to the Post Office depot.

I like the Royal Mail logo. This one had the name in Gaelic.

Nah, pal.

Sword! (STILL not hung from the wall, as the stupid rawl plugs are flimsy and rubbish).

Dangermouse bag, ring, and ripped jeans. Yeah, I'm so cool.

Lovely belt, and ribcage t-shirt.

There are a few more photos up at Small Things, too. First post there in eight months!

Dresden's not been well, but seems to be responding to her antibiotics, which is a relief. And in a while we're off to listen to a talk about zombies as part of the science festival. It should be fun! This weekend's pretty good, all in all.

I go tappety tap, and words fall out.

2011-03-27T16:49:00.004Z

Sorry about the radio silence last week.
I have one of those thoughtful posts percolating around in my brain, but it hasn't quite got to the coherent stage yet, so when I sat down to write something, my mental coffee pot was blocked. It's probably the filter. I don't know, I don't drink coffee. Is it usually the filter? Gosh, this was a poorly chosen metaphor. Anyway, I am still not ready to pour out my bitter-tasting caffeinated thoughts (still a poorly chosen metaphor), so here's some other stuff.

I hung up my Rembrandt print in the corner of the sitting room last week, then decided I need to spruce up my writing desk to go with it. It was pretty dusty, and had random ornaments and junk on the top of it. So I cleared it off, cleaned and polished it, then considered what do next. I thought it needed a light, so I fished out my brass lamp from ~~the spare room~~ Nettie and Christian's room, and then I added my two pairs of antique binoculars, a couple of ornaments I felt went with it (although I'm still playing around with what exactly I want up here - if I can get a stand for it, the antique weights set might look really nice), and a photo of Zeph in a brown leather frame.
Unfortunately, I couldn't get a very good photo of it - it looks a lot nicer in real life - but I like it.

EDIT: Just after I posted this, I suddenly thought of something we own that would go quite nicely here - Matt's Young Mad Scientist Alphabet blocks.

We're hanging pictures again this evening. I have decided to rehang the record covers I framed, as I feel they were looming rather heavily over that area of the hall. I'll swap in some lighter-framed pictures, I think. The hall's not very wide, and the record covers (especially with their thick leather frames) were just too overpowering.

Having got entirely absorbed by the archives of The Steampunk Home, I found this link for making your own rugs from second hand leather belts. Pretty! I might have to have a go at that. It's at times like this I really wish we weren't constrained by this being a rental property.

Check out the print case of treasures that Doktor A has on the wall. This is exactly the sort of thing I've been wanting for years! I really really want an interesting way to display all our little tchotchkes and treasures.

A friend of mine posted a link to a website that is irritatingly addictive. And having read this article, I went to youtube and looked up videos of the comedians.

This one is hilarious (but short) and in NO WAY suitable to watch at work. Also, for any of my hundreds of thousands of readers who are a little shy... it's talking about masturbation. I wouldn't say it's too explicit, but I gather some people might.

The end of this one is the best bit, but I like it all.

I wouldn't bother watching this one - it's just a slideshow of pictures - but I would totally recommend listening to it whilst doing other things on the computer.

Aaaaand, I'm done.

Why I love modern technology.

2011-03-13T18:35:00.000Z

This weekend, I have interacted with friends all over the world. From people who live a couple of miles away, to people who live on the other side of the planet. I have done this through phone calls, text messages, online instant messages, and Facebook.

In what way is this technology not awesome? And, whilst I know I overuse that word, I mean it in its strictest sense here. Worthy of awe.

An example - today Nettie was hosting a tea party. I was sad I couldn't be there, but was pretty excited to hear about it. We were chatting on instant messenger, and she told me about her outfit. And then she sent me a picture of it. In real time. From the other side of the world. Here I am, sitting on my sofa in Scotland, and I am able to see what a beloved friend is wearing for a get-together in Australia. It's just mindboggling, sometimes.

Here's another example of how great this is. I went to the junk shop on Saturday, and returned with some treasures.

I posted a picture of the records on Facebook, and a friend of mine, who lives in the US, commented to say she loves Rosemary Clooney. I admitted I'd never actually heard her, so my friend gave me a link to one of Clooney's songs on youtube. I listened to it - it's beautiful - and then I decided to try and track down the dates of the two records. The Rosemary Clooney one was easy. I found a recording of the song in question, and it had the year of the album on the webpage, but the other is trickier.
It seems to be a not-very-well-known version of "Have You Met Miss Jones?". So, in my searches, I read a biography of the artist in question on wikipedia. I found a website where someone had recorded their gramophone playing one of his other songs. I bounced through IMDB. And I learnt lots of interesting new things! Unfortunately, none of them were the year of release for this particular record, but to me, that's not the big picture.

This is what I love about the internet. If you are a trivia lover like me, it can lead you down the rabbit hole to a wonderful world of facts and minutiae. It's a warehouse of people's passions (and, ok, some of those passions are disturbing things which are best avoided), and that is, to me, a Good Thing. I love that, for example, someone recorded their gramophone playing records from the 1950s. I love that there are webpages out there for people who are obsessed with My Little Ponies, or woodworking, or Batman, or model railways, or folk music, or pirate music, or oboes, or stamps, or tartans... or anything.

I know, it's not a very in-depth post today, but I think it's something worth thinking about. It reminds me of Clarke's Third Law:

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

This weekend in images.

2011-03-06T19:40:00.005Z

Just some extra pictures.

New Victorian Friends

2011-03-05T19:39:00.008Z

Just a quick post. Today we went into town to do a bit of shopping, and I requested that we stop off at the antique / junk shop where we found Mr Cook and Mr Cox. Much to my delight, the shop had a batch of little Victorian photos in. These ones are smaller than the others I bought - more like playing card sized - but no less charming for that.

Please forgive the slight blurriness of the photos. We are having camera-to-computer problems currently.

The names given are of the photographers, by the way.

George Mansfield, Dublin. A most excellent beard.

R. Seggons, Belfast. This is the only photo for which I have the name of the subject. She's apparently Mary Louise Graham, and I think she looks a little like she doesn't want to be a demure lady. It's something in the eyes. Maybe a hint of rebellion. Or maybe I'm just reading things into it too much.

W. S. Moir, Portobello. Matt describes this as being like a photo one would have taken to give to one's mother or sweetheart shortly before going to war. I can see what he means.

J. Wellings, Peckham. The dress! The furniture! It's all too charming.

Charles Wright, Edinburgh. I admit, this one I bought largely for the furniture too. And the shirt / waistcoat combination is excellent.

Thomas Burns, Edinburgh. I am slightly irked that what is probably my favourite out of all of the pictures is also probably the blurriest. This man is wonderful in SO MANY WAYS. The checked trousers, the walking stick, the fobwatch chain going through one of the buttonholes on his waistcoat... it's all just marvellous. I also adore his expression, which is as if the maids were laying out a lavish cooked breakfast on the sideboard, and he's slightly worried that the rest of the family will demolish it and leave him no eggs and devilled kidneys.

W. T. Watson, Hull. Absolutely awesome cravat action going on, and an excellent moustache.

J. Hobbiss, Leeds. OH MY GOD the mutton chops! That's some seriously dedicated sideburn-growing. Love it.

They all have charming little advertisement-y (totally a word) backs to them, too. Click the picture for a larger (but undoubtedly blurrier) view.

A couple of odd little extras. This seems to have been cropped from a magazine. It's "The late Mr Thomas MacKenzie", and the writing on the back suggests he was part of MacKenzie & Son, a company which was "the only bat makers in Scotland", being "Manufacturers of Cricket Bats, Stumps, Tennis Racquets, Golf, Footballs, and all Outdoor Requisites." What gorgeous wording.

I don't have a clue who these people are, nor in which decade this picture was taken (I'm hazarding a guess at the 60s, but I could well be wrong). I just... well, it has the remnants of glue on the back of it, suggesting it was stuck to something, and it seemed sad for the people to be forgotten in a junk shop. So I bought it. Yes, I know I'm weird.

Der spring is sprung, der grass is riz.

2011-02-27T21:07:00.005Z

So, after the bubble was back all week, I'm feeling a lot better now. Thankfully.
I guess I'm lucky in a way - my depression has lessened a lot over the last few years, and I seldom feel that bad any more.

I was talking to Nettie the other day, and I said that, whilst I was planning on mentioning the d-word in this week's post, I wasn't intending to write solely about it. Because... well, to address the depression directly, and to put it in words from Labyrinth:

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great. You have no power over me."

So, on that note - onwards!

Real psychics: Criminal profiling and the F.B.I. A fascinating read.

On Saturday, we didn't do much - we just did some grocery shopping and popped down to Portobello to go to the butcher. All their meat is amazing, but I have discovered my new favourite type of sausage (pause for childish sniggering), Pork and Lanark Blue. My parents came round for dinner, and to watch the rugby, and to play Disappointing Mr Woods (AKA: Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2008 on the Wii). I made a slightly experimental dinner of pasta with creme fraiche, Casalingo Piccante sausage, chicken breast, mushroom and leek. It seemed to be highly popular.

Today we actually, finally, went to the exhibitions we have been meaning to visit for weeks. The Young Vermeer was very interesting, even though it was only three paintings. His use of light is fascinating to me. The Jean-Marc Bustamante one was... well, not really to my taste, although I could see where he was coming from in terms of his themes.

I think this might be my favourite restaurant sign of all time, and I had to get a picture of it before someone buys the premises and rips it down.
Fear the... STEAKBURGERMASTER!

Ok, this is just odd. Whatever shop or cafe or whatever that used to be here closed down. And now there is a raggedy door that looks like it was hacked through the security shutters. I realise it's not very clear, but all there is inside are cardboard boxes and big industrial wholesale bags of bread rolls. Some secret sandwich-making cabal, maybe?

Matt 1) is interested in the sweet shop

and 2) ain't afraid of no ghost.

*does air quotes*
For "cash".

I asked Matt to take a photo of me. He took a photo of my legs.

Maybe it's Spring. Maybe. Hopefully.
It seems like it's been a long winter.

Bacterial Culture

2011-02-20T19:40:00.004Z

Our method of celebrating Valentine's Day was met with more than a few raised eyebrows when we were asked about it.
I e-mailed Matt a little picture of a zombie.

Matt responded by sending me a copy of a scientific study theorising the hypothetical real-world spread of zombieism.
I made him dinner. He surprised me with three zombie DVDs.

Of course, this was to do with the fact that Monday was also Zombie Appreciation Day.
And, as you all know, we don't take our Zombie Appreciation lightheartedly!

Bear in mind that Matt has a proper businessman-esque job in a huge (poss. evil) important corporation, yeah?

On Monday, in response to some talk about Valentine's Day during the big weekly teleconference thing, he said (to 40 or so colleagues based all over the UK) "And, if you aren't into that, today is also Zombie Appreciation Day!" Apparently he got a couple of "Oh, your poor partner" style comments, but then he said "But if she hadn't told me, I wouldn't even have known about it!"

I could not stop laughing when he told me about it. I suspect he will henceforth be treated with a certain amount of suspicion from some parties.

I was going to write today about culture. Our plan for yesterday was to go out to the Fruitmarket Gallery to see an exhibition of Jean-Marc Bustamante's work. We were going to follow that up with a visit to the National Gallery to see The Young Vermeer exhibition. Then, five minutes before we were due to leave, I realised that the freezer had managed to get unplugged (due to me tripping over the cord on Friday evening) and half our food had defrosted. So, instead of a day of art, I had a day of chucking food in the bin and cooking whatever I could save. Oh well, we've rescheduled for next week.

(I also had the delight of finding a mouldy half-bag of raw lamb mince in our kitchen bits 'n' bobs drawer. The only explanation is that, when I had used half of it, I went into the drawer to find a plastic clip to seal the bag shut, then just absent-mindedly dropped the bag into the drawer, instead of putting it in the freezer. Yay.)

Other than all that fun, we pretty much just spent the weekend playing computer games and napping. I just woke up from my second nap of the day, which means Sunday counts as a big WIN on that front!

Ok, I'm going to draw this rambly, non-cohesive blog post to an end, I think. Maybe next week I'll have something a little more... cogent to say. Have a picture of a very odd tattoo, and I'll talk to you later.

see more Ugliest Tattoos

How I hurt my shoulder. This time.

2011-02-12T09:22:00.007Z

Ok, so we're all agreed that 'The Empty Child' is the scariest episode of NuWho, right?
Well, when I say 'all agreed', I mean 'I definitely think this'. It's seriously the scariest thing I've seen on TV as an adult.

So, Matt and I were watching it the other day, and then decided that of course we should watch the concluding part ('The Doctor Dances'), as then everything would be ok.
About halfway through TDD, I got up to make a cup of tea.

Matt was jokingly telling me not to leave him alone where the gas mask zombies could get him, so I thought I would go and fetch the big plastic sword we'd bought at Halloween so he had something to defend himself with if they did happen to show up. Which I did not expect them to.
So I went to dig it out from behind the bookcase in the bedroom (I have no idea why it was in the bedroom - I think it might have been a previous defending-from-monsters incident).

Unbeknownst to me, Matt had come to the door to see what I was up to. And was standing there, half hidden by the door. Silently.

Do you see where I'm going with this?
I turned round and saw someone where I hadn't expected to see someone.
I made a noise. It was sort of a cross between a scream and a battle cry. And I flailed (if you were here, I'd re-enact it, but you're not, so you'll just have to imagine it. If you've ever met me, it's not hard to imagine), and ended up with the sword pointing at Matt's head.
What the hell I was going to do if he were actually a gas mask zombie, I have no idea, seeing as it's a plastic sword.
I'm vaguely proud that my first instinct was not to curl into a ball, but to threaten the supposed monster.
All this took about a second, and then I had to have a nice sit down until my heart stopped hammering.

And then I discovered I'd strained the muscle in my shoulder again. Yay me.

Matt and I may just be nerds.

2011-02-11T19:13:00.016Z

Or geeks. Or whatever.
I was making dinner this evening, and I suddenly thought "I haven't shown my friends my life-sized cardboard cutout of R2D2!"
(Photo taken from above...)

And then I got distracted by other things.

My DS with Star Wars and Doctor Who styluses.
On top of our TV.
I love that Spiderman is kissing Iron Man's shoulder.

RoboCow (MOO) lives on top of the microwave.

A pile of books that I've been reading (amongst others) over the last couple of weeks.

D&D books and playstation controller.

Cerberus guards our door.

Matt took this photo. I think he thought it was nerdy because of the dice. I love that he didn't notice it's even nerdier because we roll our dice in the lid for a Star Wars RPG.

And I thought I was exaggerating. And then Matt pointed out we were wearing these:
Me, a Dalek necklace.

Matt, a SNES t-shirt.

Just some links 'n' that.

2011-02-06T18:36:00.009Z

Sam died yesterday afternoon, and I'm not really feeling like a big blah-blah-blah talky post, so I'll just leave you with some links and stuff. Hopefully I'll get something more up over the course of the week.

I've spent today, thanks to Nettie, reading all The Oatmeal's comics. I think The Bobcats is my favourite.

I'm still loving Epbot - it features all my favourite things, although Jen (on whom I have a huge internet nerd-crush) is keen on Disney memorabilia, which I am... not.

Which reminds me... some of the ~~toys~~ collectables that we own.
Our new shelves with my Consolidator, and Messrs Cook and Cox; and with a Dalek, Ultra-Magnus, and a Domo-kun.

Eve and Wall-E (yes, ok, they're Disney items), Sackboy and Sackbot (from LittleBigPlanet), Scuttler the Butler and Mr Head (by Doktor A.).

I'll leave you with this Cyanide and Happiness comic (which is for my good friend David, who keeps trying to persuade me to smoke a pipe):

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net
Talk to you soon.

Picture the scene... (A Post About Sledging)

2011-01-30T18:39:00.010Z

It's Christmas. The family is all together - from grandparents...

... to a baby and a dog.

It's your typical Christmas. Gifts are given and received, much food is eaten, silly paper hats are worn.
Seeing as it's snowy out, a snowman is built.
Well, sort of.

All clear in your mind, yeah?
Well. Matt and I, along with my two brothers, decided we wanted to go sledging. The snow wasn't very deep, and it was pretty icy by this point. Oh, and we couldn't find the sledge in the garage. So we improvised.
First up was an old skateboard from which Huw had spent some time removing the wheels. Unfortunately, the snow was somewhat lumpy, so Dave had to do a bit of smoothing with a spade.

So we moved to a different slope around the corner, where I managed to get a few action shots.

The plan here was that Matt and Dave would pretend to run behind Huw in order that Huw would look like he was moving a lot faster than he was. I think it makes it look like Huw is being pursued by the undead.

For some reason, pretty much EVERY photo I took of Dave makes him look like the undead, actually. Especially this next one.

And now a break from sledging photos in order to show you an adorable dog. Belle's gorgeous, but mad.

And we're back.
The next day, we decided we'd have to change our approach if we wanted to successfully sledge. Dave had hauled home a couple of road signs a while back, after a drunken night out, and we thought Hey! With the sharp edges and rusty patches, these will be ideal! Spoiler: No-one injured themselves beyond the odd bruise, weirdly enough.

We set up a ramp made out of one of the signs and some bricks (I know - this is sounding more and more sensible and safe by the minute, isn't it?)

And then there were races. The picture(s) below are chronologically left to right, top to bottom.

And what you're seeing here is a race between Matt and Huw. As they start out, Huw shoots into the lead. He's taunting Matt. Then tragedy strikes, and Huw comes flying off his sledge. He's determined to win, and attempts to rugby tackle Matt from his sledge. Luckily for Matt, he misses, and ends up face down in the snow as Matt glides to victory. Poor sportsmanship!
(But lots of fun.)

Duel of the Cephalopods

2011-01-22T18:31:00.002Z

Matt and I bought a couple of octopuses at the shop. Not for companionship, I hasten to add, but to eat.
They were pretty squishy, and their heads were interestingly gelatinous when you poked them (which we totally did).

When we dropped them into boiling water, it was fascinating. The tentacles all curled up...

...and their heads became firm and rounded.

When we removed them from the boiling water, they were still a little grubby.

We'd tonged them (ummm... used tongs to pick them up) around the heads, which made the larger of the two ink everywhere. Yeah, there's also that brown stuff, but we chose to ignore it, seeing as they were getting a good wash afterwards.

Octopus duel!

Shortly after this, we decapitated them and put them in the oven. No heart-warming moral of the story here, kids!

Lasagne Party! Woo!

2011-01-09T16:44:00.007Z

Yes, I am hanging my head in shame. It has been weeks since my last post, and I have no excuse. I am a penitent woman.

So, without further ado (and emotional self-flagellation), here's a new post!

A week before Christmas, we hosted a small and informal lasagne party.
We had a four-course all-lasagne dinner, and played games on the Wii. It was a very good night, although we were sadly down one guest. Still, that means we can do it again so that she can join in!

Starter:
Pesto, spinach and ricotta. I tried to keep this light, with only two layers of pasta, as it was the first of four courses.

Spreading the spinach, pesto and onion mixture.

Spreading the ricotta mixture.

Finished (and half-devoured).

Fish course:
Smoked salmon and king prawns in a creamy tomato sauce. Again, just two layers of lasagne sheets.

Ready for the oven...

...And just out of the oven.

Main course:
Mostly a standard meat lasagne, but I made the meat sauce using bacon lardons, smoked sausage and gammon rather than the standard minced meat. And I added a healthy sprinkle of black pepper, too.

Meat!

Being enjoyed by my brother.

Dessert:
This was somewhat (and when I say 'somewhat', I mean 'totally') experimental. Layers of marble cake mixed with chocolate sauce, caramel sauce, and shortbread, topped with a layer of ice-cream.

2-3 layers in.

Getting there - also incorporating honeycomb chunks.

Completed with ice-cream layer.

The sugar from the dessert lasagne gave us the energy to rock!

More posts soon, I promise.

For Nettie - Snow!

2010-12-11T10:26:00.005Z

Our icicles were about eighteen inches long.

At work, they didn't think to take the chairs and tables in...

More pretty icicles.

Snow!

More snow!

Me in snow!

Graffiti in snow!

ROBOTS!

2010-12-04T23:37:00.004Z

Robotsrobotsrobotsrobotsrobots.
All done with biro on post-it notes (so the scans are about 1/3 bigger than life-size). This is what I do when I have nothing to do on a late shift at work.
Acrobat robots.

Shop assistant robot.

Broken sad robot.

Clown robot.

Demonstrator robot.

Juggler robot.

Scary nurse and doctor robots.

Pirate robot.

Religion robot.

The circus-themed ones are actually a really weird commission, and the robots in general have something to do with the Top Secret Project that Nettie mentioned on Facebook...

Robotsrobotsrobotsrobotsrobotsrobots.

Probe 7, Over and Out

2010-11-28T20:15:00.002Z

Well, I thought it was time to do a good, old-fashioned, rambling about stuff post, as all my posts recently have had a 'theme' or 'topic' or something equally grown-up.
Pah.

I'm on a bit of a clearing kick right now. I've spent a couple of days sorting through my clothes, and washing all the ones I want to give away. Because I have shedloads of clothes, and a lot of them are ones which are too big or too small for me, are unflattering to my body shape, or I just plain don't really like any more.
SO! Out they go to better homes.

I've also had to stitch the lining of my beloved bag of holding (holding abilities seen here).

Yesterday was a snow day (hooray!), and Matt and I went out adventuring.

(Going into the middle of town at this time of year is, in itself, an adventure.)
We went to do some Christmas shopping, and then went to the German Christmas market for lunch. Some of it seems to be a bit battered.

Spicy burger and bratkartoffeln. Om nom nom. We love this stand, and share these every year.

I... don't really know.

I had stupidly gone out with only one set of leg coverings on, so I needed tea to try and thaw my knees from the inside out.

The huge Big Wheel that I may be brave enough to go on again this year.

Helter skelter!

Matt looks beatific whilst eating the most amazing toastie we've ever had - cheese, leek, onion and garlic. Again, om nom nom.

I was in a brooch mood. I think I'm going to do a swap around tomorrow, and use the dangly brooches I have - a really pretty one my sister gave me for my birthday, and one that is a paint palette with little art tools dangling off it.

I just thought this was striking.

Awwwwwwww!

In Armstrong's. Matt is quite the gentleman (of straitened means). He did not buy the top hat, despite my impassioned urging.

Ewwwww. Glittery fabric colouring kits. Just right for Christmas!

1970s half-apron!

Mr Cook and Mr Cox. These gentlemen are now our ethical and moral guides. WWMCAMCD?

My evenings are being swallowed up by the archive of Questionable Content, a web comic that I cannot believe I haven't met before now, goddamnit!

A hit-list of some of the awesome people - fictional and non - and awesome things which are inspiring me right now.
Marianne Kirby
Tavi Gevinson
Penelope Garcia
Emily Martin
Claudia Donovan
Hercule Poirot, as he is in the books, or portrayed by David Suchet

Bags from the May 1984 issue of The World of Interiors, via The Snail and the Cyclops
Old British Red Cross Society badges which used to belong to my late grandparents.

Window displays in Walker Slater

Glass heads for wigs (I really want one)

What's inspiring you at the moment?

Dance like you just don't care*!

2010-11-20T20:21:00.005Z

(*And are willing to share this sort of thing with the world.)

Harking back to my previous post (and the one about quitting dieting, also), I really feel like I am more confident in and of myself than I ever used to be.

Like... I don't care that I'm not a size eight. I take photos of myself that may be considered 'silly' or 'ridiculous' (see above) and I post them online. I dance and sing and playact and wear 'costume' clothes - like my tweed waistcoat and fob watch and cool new space pirate boots. I tell people that I consider them to be space pirate boots, rather than keeping quiet about it. I led a conversation about what to do in case of a zombie apocalypse - at work - the other day. I am open about my newfound love for D&D, and my agelong love for Star Trek and various sci-fi.

I have realised that people are going to think I'm weird, or cool, or eccentric, or funny, or a nerd, or all of the above. And that's good with me. Because I'd rather be open about who I am and what I like than pretend to be someone I'm not.

And I think I'm pretty awesome, actually. No matter what other people might think.

30

2010-11-20T09:42:00.005Z

So, yeah. You guys just may have heard that I turned 30 last weekend. Just perhaps.

I had the best weekend (including Monday off work). 30 is awesome so far!

I was looking forward to being 30 anyway. I read a quote on Marianne Kirby's blog recently which really resonated. I'd been trying to work out how I felt about this birthday, which everyone was so quick to point out was A Big Deal.

The quote runs:

Several years ago, a woman I knew who was turning 40 told me that she was excited about it because the older we get, the more practice we get at our lives. We get better at living because we have simply done more of it.

And BOOM! That was exactly how I was feeling.

I wasn't sad at the 'loss' of my twenties, I wasn't dreading aging. I was (and still am) excited.

Because, whilst my twenties were fun and all, they also involved a lot of ups and downs. And, of the people I know who are comfortable with who they are, who don't feel the need to apologise for being themselves, who are just happier in their lives... well, they're almost all at least in their 30s. And that's because of all the practising, I reckon. I wouldn't go back ten years if you paid me. I'm too excited about the adventure still to come!

Matt made me a card using my favourite ever xkcd strip – the one
that contains a highly valid philosophy of life, in my opinion.

I was allowed to poke my presents the night before, but gently, as I
wasn’t to tear the delicate wrapping paper he’d made by taping
together foil covers from chocolate eyeballs.

In the morning, I shook Matt awake quite early, and he gave me my
presents. I was thrilled with my funky boots, necklace and Sex
Bob-omb t-shirt. He also gave me some books, including one of my
favourite Miss Marple novels (sadly, my previous copy had fallen apart) and a DVD and, to complete my joy, a DS.
Happy Flora.

So we went out for lunch, came home, I had a nap, then Ewan came round to play computer games. And after a bit, Huw and Kirsty joined us, and we reformed our Guitar Hero band.
*does the devil horns*
We (semi) rock!
And then we went out for dinner.

I was having a joint party with my mum, as she didn't get a 60th party, due to Zeph being in hospital. We went to International Starters - a sort of non-Spanish tapas restaurant. It's really nice to go there with a big bunch of people, as everyone shares round their dishes.
My dad and Zeph and Rowenna.

Zeph spent a good proportion of the meal staring at my brother Dave as if he was slightly unnerved. It's Dave's hair, I think.

In fairness, my aunt Hil, my mum and Dave all spent quite a lot of time staring back at him.

Menfolk! Matt, Chris, Zeph and my Uncle Bob.

You can see the mutual wariness in this shot, I think.

Sharing is fun. My aunt Tricia looks on.

It's the chair - I do not have a humpback.

Huw is a startled goat, Kirsty is a leopard.

We had many (well, a couple of) drinks and much food!

And then we all went back to my house, Barnaby. For cake. You can see the one my mother made me in this photo. Sadly not pictured: The one I made her. Where the unset white chocolate ganache made it look rather like it had... man essence on it.

Uncle Huw and Zeph are wearing matching shoes. Awww.

It was all a little too much for the youngest member of the party.

Anyway, it was all awesome, and I had a great time.
I am loving my 30s so far!

Things that have made me happy recently.

2010-11-07T15:45:00.007Z

Traditional afternoon tea!

Zeph in my awesome new hat!

Rats!

Ewan and Sam!

Military gaiters with fetish boots!

Bonfire night!

Fire!

Conservation Village poshness!

Beautiful new fob watch!

Matt!

The gorgeous camera I have on loan!
And also, in this picture, my hair!

What's making you happy currently?

Last Days

2010-10-24T17:02:00.013Z

On the 6th, Nettie made pancakes.

We had quite a quiet day around the house.

Then we went round to Rowenna's for a barbecue. We thought it might rain, so we sort of draped a broken gazebo cover thing over the shed and fence. It did not rain. But Matt and Christian loyally cooked sausages in a giant tent anyway.

On the Saturday - Nettie and Christian's last full day - we didn't do an awful lot. We went for a final wander around town, and Nettie made sure to do a lot of Zeph snurgling.
Uh... yeah. Flattened mouse.

We sat around in Princes Street Gardens for a while. Zeph was looking chavtastic (I'm not entirely sure why) in his baseball cap.

I don't know this lady. I just thought it was a really nice shot.

Matt looks like he was saying "Well, you threw it..."

Zeph loves Nettie. And she loves him.

As it got on towards dinner time, we headed up to the Meadows, picking up some takeaway pizzas on the way.

And then we played on the kids' park.

I snuck into the bathroom that night to take a picture of the smiley toothbrush holders. That's not weird, right?

Then, on Sunday the 8th... *sigh*
We headed through to Glasgow.

Had some brunch (we had a flag).

Scared and were attacked by a baby.

Took some photos, and said our goodbyes.

Matt and I miss Nettie and Christian, but we're still in contact with them, of course, and we're planning to make it over there for 2012. And we have great memories from their visit.

The Monsters Are Coming!

2010-10-17T14:42:00.019Z

This post is for my friend David (Hi, David!) who wanted a rundown on the Doctor Who Live show we went to see. Also, he steadfastly refuses to go on Facebook, so...

Ok, setting the scene. Matt and I went to Glasgow at lunchtime, pottered about a bit, and had some lunch.

Unicorn!

Matt was drinking his Coke out of a semi-formed ice cube. Don't ask me why.

BEST EARLY BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER!

How swarthy do I look in comparison to Matt? We had stamped our hands to show the Judoon that we had already been categorised.

We were both wearing our Dalek t-shirts. A lady on the train had said to us "Are you going to the show?" When we said yes, she said "I went yesterday. It was amazing!" And then we looked around, and there did seem to be quite a few DW-themed clothing items on people in the carriage.

Now to the show!

The show's full title is Doctor Who Live: The Monsters Are Coming. Quick synopsis goes like this: our host, an intergalactic showman named Vorgenson, and the Doctor's biggest fan, has invented The Minimiser, in which he has trapped a range of the Doctor's enemies (and also the Judoon, who don't really count as enemies). He can keep them there, and bring them out during his shows to thrill his audiences. By pulling Winston Churchill forward in time, he manages to lure the Doctor to his show. Then he traps him in the Minimiser. The Doctor must escape the prison, and find out who is the shadowy force behind Vorgenson's plans.

I must admit that about 90% of my photos look something like this. But I've dug out what I can. I am sad to admit that I don't have any photos of the Silurians (last seen in The Hungry Earth / Cold Blood), Judoon (last seen in The End of Time / The Pandorica Opens), Smilers and Liz 10 (The Beast Below), or the Saturnyne Sisterhood (The Vampires of Venice),

There was a choir that sometimes turned up on stage along with the orchestra. And on the left in this picture is a woman who was playing the most awesome cello.

Very British. This is when Winston Churchill popped up.

When the Weeping Angels (Blink, The Time of Angels / Flesh and Stone) appeared on stage, and on the screen as the video loop, there was a big commotion at the back of the arena, where some 'police' came bursting in. And of course, everyone turned to look. And that's when the Angels moved for the first time.

When the various species were introduced, they often entered from the back of the arena, and spent some time freaking out unsuspecting members of the audience. It was shown up on the big screen over the stage, so you could see small children (hopefully not literally) crapping themselves with fear. When the Smilers and Liz 10 showed up, I whispered to Matt "They'd better not come near me. I fucking HATE the Smilers." At which, Matt pointed to the one standing three rows behind us. *shudder*
The Scarecrows (Human Nature / Family of Blood) were very well done.

Accidentally arty-farty shot of the Clockwork Robots (The Girl in the Fireplace).

Cybermen! This was very nicely scripted. They are a lot scarier in the flesh... er... metal than they are on TV, and they were marching through the audience. Then they pulled a man from the audience (clearly he was part of the show), marched him up on to the stage, and shoved him through a doorway to be 'upgraded', at which point there were horrible screeching noises and showers of sparks. And then a new Cyberman marched out. Pretty damn cool.

SPOILER! It was the Daleks behind the plan all along! Surprise!

The Doctor showed up only in specially filmed video clips.

Strategist, Drone, Scientist, Eternal (Victory of the Daleks).

How do you stop the Daleks? Cybermen with Anti-Dalekanium plasma bolts!

Hooray! Everything's ok!

Aww, crap. Flying Supreme Dalek.

It was an awesome show. I don't think Matt even blinked or breathed throughout the first half, and not just because of the Weeping Angels.

Giant peacock on the way back to the station.

Vintage sewing machines!

WTF, phone? I realise I'd pressed the wrong button, but 'apesnod'?

All in all, it was the best day out we've had in ages. And the show was... well, the show was apesnod indeed.

Nettie Levels Up.

2010-10-10T14:22:00.009Z

Since I'm dying* from the plague**, this is going to be a quick post. Self, I thought, if we (because there's two of me - one to do the asking and one to reply. Obviously.) die now, all croaky and drippy and miserable, what will we regret never doing? Posting pictures of Nettie's birthday, I thought.
So there we are.
(There had to be an easier way to start this post, right? I blame the codeine.)

*Not actual death.
**Not the actual plague.

Ok, I'll stop my fevered rambling and get on with it.

On Nettie's birthday, we went to see Adam Hills at the festival. After I mistakenly directed us to the wrong venue, we made it to the correct place in plenty of time for the show.

We queued patiently.

Well, maybe some of us were a little more impatient.

It was a beautiful day.

Hello, San Dimas High! Mr. Ryan, fellow distinguished classmates, teachers... babes!

The show was awesome, and featured some heckling from Nettie, and Chris amusing Adam Hills by calling himself a 'coffee monkey'. Afterwards, we went for dinner at Frankenstein's - a theme pub.

Nettie's pie thing came in a wee cauldron! I was perhaps a little over-impressed by this.

Foooood.

It had got a bit chilly by the time we were waiting for the bus home.

I love the green lights, and the wobbly reflection of spires in the museum window.

I'd made a chocolate birthday cake, so when we got in, Rowenna and I decorated it, adding icing and message candles and chocolate curls and coloured flame candles. And the guys set it alight.

Singing Happy Birthday. Yeah, we know one of the number candles is the wrong way round.

You can see the coloured flames in this one.

Finally, view the following photos and answer me this: why is Nettie allowed to handle large knives? Eh?

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bum

2010-10-04T18:36:00.003Z

I'm going to take a moment out of my holiday posting to talk about something I've been struggling with. And when I say been, I mean pretty much since I hit puberty.

Body-image and I have an entangled relationship. I've spoken to you guys before about my history of eating disorders and self-harm, both of which are big red flags - gigantic red flags - that I am a person with 1) mental issues and 2) a bad body image.

Whilst I have still not self-harmed since the last time I posted about it (despite temptations), I am feeling more and more like I have to do something about my relationship with food and exercise. I don't mean dieting. I mean...

Well, an example. Whilst I'm not really a runner or a 'proper' sports player, I do like to do something energetic outside now and again. A friend of mine posted on Facebook about how she was looking for someone to accompany her on walks round Arthur's Seat twice a week. I didn't take her up on it, as I can't schedule my hours at work in advance, but I thought "What a good idea! I might start up a routine like that myself!"

So I started making elaborate mental plans about how I'd set it up, and how often I'd go, and so on... and then I didn't. Because there is a part of my brain that seems to assume that if I can't do the whole ridiculously strict plan, then I'm a failure, and there's no point even doing it once a week.

W.T.F?

Balls to that, say I.
So I did a wee walk down the path by the side of Arthur's Seat on Thursday, and Matt and I went for a walk/scramble up it on Sunday. Not because we 'should', but because it's fun. And pretty. And getting exercise makes me feel better. It doesn't matter if it's sporadic, or if it's not as challenging as what I'd planned. Because rather than failing to stick to an entirely random, nebulously conceived routine, I am going out and doing these things, and it's all good.

I'm noticing things like that - stupid, counter-intuitive things - more often these days, when my brain spits them out.

My relationship with food is, and has been for the last 16 years or so, exponentially more effed-up than my relationship with exercise, even though it stems from the same place.
Thankfully, I am now able to deal (most of the time) with urges to purge or restrict. However, the nagging thoughts are a lot more of a challenge to deal with. And I don't think these are unusual thoughts. Quite the contrary, actually - they're the ones that are highlighting every flaw when I look in the mirror, and which make me depressed when I don't fit into something I'm trying on. I think they're unnervingly common, especially amongst women, and I think they are harmful.

So I am trying to 'de-programme' myself. And finding out some things in the process. My discovery of HAES (Health At Every Size) has really helped me start coming to terms with it over the last few years.

Maybe it's just that I'm nearing 30, and having some realisations about my life, but I don't want to spend the next ten years hating myself as I have the last ten. It's just so much energy and so much time wasted on physically, emotionally and mentally beating myself up for the way I look, for the fact that I eat, or that I don't have a regular workout regime. I'm quitting those thoughts.

In doing so, I've discovered some cool things.

It's ok for me to eat a big salad, if I want. It's also ok for me to eat a big pizza, if I want. Because (and unfortunately I can't remember from whom I stole this phrase) eating is morally neutral.

It's ok for me to (as on Sunday) go for a walk/climb for an hour and a half, then come home and spend the next hour playing Wii tennis. It's also ok for me to spend a Sunday baking, reading and napping.

I feel better if I buy clothes that fit, no matter what the label says. And I discovered something that I never thought I would. I tried on some item of clothing that turned out to be too small. And instead of mentally berating myself for being 'too fat' and, ergo, a disappointment, I just thought "Aww, that's a shame. It's too small." And that was it. No depression, no self-hatred, just the thought that it was the clothing that didn't fit my body, not vice versa.

And that was a huge fuckin' breakthrough.

Excuses, excuses.

2010-09-23T22:36:00.000Z

Gosh, sorry. It's been three weeks since I last posted. It's all due to a combination of things - a family bereavement, injury, illness, hamster escape, work stress, a patch of poor mental health, and just being so achingly tired over the last few weeks that most nights I get home from work, make dinner, and crawl into bed.

I think it's also to do with the fact that I don't want to finish posting the pictures. Because, well, that means that it's all over and done with, and that sucks.
But hey, that's how the ~~cookie~~ biscuit crumbles, right?

So, here we go.
Nettie, Christian, Matt and I made it up Arthur's Seat on the morning of the 3rd.

Old-fashioned graffiti is so much more impressive than today's paint scrawl.

View!

Matt being gusted by the wind.

Proof that Nettie made it to the concrete 'cairn' at the very top.

We couldn't quite work out if the lack of Diego was mournful or triumphant. I like to think that, the morning the group were going to climb Arthur's Seat, Diego rolled over in his hotel bed, and told them to fuck off, because he was going to have a lie-in instead.

Matt had told us that a teacher had once told him it was easier to walk on slopes if you zig-zagged. So he and Christian zig-zagged all the way back down...

Later on, we went into town. Nettie tried on some hats.

We headed home when it was getting late, and all dusky.

This is an ad for a comedy show, and I just love the slogan.

The next day, we went up to the Camera Obscura, which is always a lot of fun. Whilst Rowenna was getting the baby carrier sorted out, I distracted Zeph with a mirror illusion that was by the ticket desk.

We walked all the way to the top of the building to watch the Camera Obscura show, and to take in the views.

A crazy mirror.

The 'Tunnel of Eternity'. Or something like that. Mirrors, lights, that sort of thing.

Ok! Next up: Nettie's birthday!

Do Not Snurgle the Painted Hunting Dogs.

2010-08-30T15:12:00.007Z

So, on the 2nd, we went to the zoo.

Painted Hunting Dogs are very dangerous. If you drop anything into the enclosure, staff will not go and get it for you. Do not lean over the fence. Do not climb into the enclosure. Do not skritch the Painted Hunting Dogs. Do not try to snurgle their fluffy tummies. Do not wuzz their soft ears. They will eat you.

Zeph looks thoughtful here - somewhat like an academic gesturing with his pipe whilst expounding on a theory. Or maybe I'm mad.

Stop. Lunchtime!

Penguins with chick.

Swimming penguin.

Bendy-necked penguins.

Nettie with penguins (one of them may be the famous Nils Olav. Not Nettie, though. She's Nettie. Also, she's the one who's wearing trousers, in case anyone was in doubt).

Rockhopper penguin.

Snuggly rhinos.

Odd wee sculpture things.

Piss-drinking pigs (with baby piss-drinking pigs)! (No piss-drinking occurred this visit, thankfully.)

Actually, there were quite a lot of young animals at the zoo this time around. Observe:
1)

2)

3)

Awww, the sleepy tiger!

Herd!

These ravens allegedly solve puzzles.

Rowenna, Nettie and I had a go on a raised assault course thing. I, being scared of heights, was pretty nervous.

Nettie's hand is not as big as a sun bear's paw.

Potoroos!

Matt, as ever, is king of the jungle.

Rounding off the day with a bit of inappropriate touching of a giant stuffed penguin. Good times!

Aussies in Linlithgow (Or: How Nettie Got to Visit a Real Castle).

2010-08-22T19:16:00.001Z

Since Cawdor Castle was so incredibly rubbish, we took Nettie and Christian to see Linlithgow Palace, which is more castley than Cawdor could ever be.

A boat on the canal.

We went for lunch at my parents' house, and were all instantly smitten with Belle, my brother's puppy. We tried to swap her for Zeph...

LOVE this picture. It's the expression on Zeph's face that makes it for me.

And then we headed down to the Palace.

You know, I'm sure the upper of the two faces on the fountain was something from Labyrinth. Or the Muppet Show.

The Peel and the Loch.

Matt in the fireplace of the Great Hall.

A lot of the Palace is no longer roofed.

There are still lots of stairs, though.

Ok, yes, we did spend quite a lot of time in fireplaces.

A face?

I was hiding in yet another fireplace, spying on the others, to take this one...

I love how the window acts as two frames - one with the 'picture' of sky, and the other with the 'picture' of hills.

Most of us went up Queen Margaret's Bower, which is the highest point of the Palace. It was very very scary, but there were some awesome views! It was ominously cloudy, which really gave us some dramatic contrast.

The spire of St Michael's church is allegedly supposed to look like a crown of thorns. I'm not convinced.

After being all that way up, we visited one of the cellars.

Nettie is a bat.

Kind of like the Brady Bunch. A bit.

Matt, tired after all the stair climbing.

Be still my heart...

And then we went for cakes and a sit-down, before setting off back to Edinburgh. The End.

Aussie Madness

2010-08-14T22:16:00.000Z

Christian looking insanely enthused.

Roof and balconies.

Rocket!

Nettie and Christian Learning (about pulleys) By Doing.

Rowenna testing her reflexes.

Giant pump thing.

Racing car.

I have no idea what startled Rowenna and Zeph so.

Paolozzi, my favourite sculptor, has made these awesome statues/cases for the museum. They're all in the shape of people, with little glass display cases in them to hold small pieces of jewellery.

Ball o' bones, by Andy Goldsworthy.

Viking treasure!

Greyfriars Bobby's grave.

Once we got home, we just all hung out for a while...

Chris came round once he finished work, and gave Zeph his dinner. For a cute baby, Zeph sure can look disgusting sometimes (I think it's the orange sauce that makes it so bad)!

Matt and Christian were playing computer games. Nettie has a remarkably similar photo of the two of them from when we were in Australia.

The following day, we went to play skittles at the Sheep Heid Inn. I only got one photo (but Nettie has photos and videos).

The day after that, some of us went up Calton Hill. We all helped each other up on to the National Monument.

It was pretty windy up there...

...but we had some nice views.

Even better were the views from Nelson's Monument, which Nettie and I braved.

Then we took some slightly innuendous photos involving sitting on a cannon.

And then we went to the Museum of Childhood, which was preOHFUCKWHATTHEHELLISTHAT? FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST GET IT AWAY FROM ME!!!11!1

'Til next time, my dears.

Camping and beyond!

2010-08-06T12:43:00.004Z

On Tuesday we packed up our stuff, picked up the rental car, took a brief trip to hospital (Zeph had hurled himself head first off his change table, so Rowenna wanted to get him a check-up. He was fine, luckily), then set off for the campsite. It was a cloudy but dry day, with the sun shining.
Until we arrived, when the heavens opened.

It rained for the entire time we were camping (including during our visit to Cawdor Castle, which was fairly shit and expensive)

- up until we packed up to leave on the Thursday. At which point we thought we'd make the most of the brief sunshine and visited the Highland Wildlife Park.

Snowy owl.

Arctic fox.

Amur tiger.

Nettie's hand is not as big as a tiger's paw.

Macaques.

Scottish Wildcat kitten.

Playing.

We were all pretty knackered after the camping. So we spent the next couple of days having some down time (See my Small Things blog for shots from Meadowfield Park and the Royal Mile).

And cooking. Because Zeph's naming ceremony was on the Sunday. We ate food, met up with a lot of my family, Nettie and I were named as two of Zeph's Companions (secular godparents), and a marvellous time was had by all, especially Zeph himself!

I know how bees work!

2010-07-23T21:15:00.009Z

So, Nettie and Christian arrived at Glasgow airport at around lunchtime on Saturday.
We made it through to Edinburgh, got them their bus passes, and headed home. It was a pretty quiet evening - they were jetlagged, we were knackered, so we went to bed quite early.
The next morning, they were up at 5.30. I was awoken at 6.30 by the noise of them trying to do the previous night's washing up very quietly. Since we were up, Nettie, Christian and I went for a walk through Duddingston village and about Arthur's Seat. Matt went back to bed.

Nettie and Christian in front of Duddingston Kirk.

Then we went into town. We didn't really have any plan, other than wandering about.

Edinburgh Uni's McEwan Hall.

Greyfriars Bobby.

Christian decided not to buy the hat.

Piggy and Nettie.

This photo did not go according to plan.

We also went to Poundland, and bought items for going camping. These included, but were not limited to: beautiful raincoats (this one modelled by Nettie)

: A very cheap (i.e. £1) and somewhat psychadelic football

: A Rubik's Snake which, no euphemism intended, has given Christian many hours of fun.

Join me soon for the Highland installment!

Morning rituals.

2010-07-08T18:08:00.003Z

I feel I don't need to point out to you again, oh friends, that Matt and I are sometimes a little... odd.

So, without further ado, here are the rituals/habits that make up our trip to work(s).

1) Head Nettles. The person walking on the road side of the pavement has to call "Head Nettles" when the other approaches the raised garden with nettles poking out of the fence at head height.

2) Here Comes Your Bus. There's a bus stop down by the junction that we know from experience is very annoying to wait at, as you can't see if the bus is coming. So we sing quietly a verse and chorus of "Here Comes Your Man" by the Pixies using either "Here Comes Your Bus" or "There Is No Bus", depending on whether we can see the bus coming from our location.

3) The Cat Guess. Once we're on the bus, we soon reach a ground floor flat with two cats (Pedestal Cat and The Pretender) residing in it. They have one of those cat pedestals in their front window, so we have to guess whether there'll be one cat or two there, and their relative positions in the window.

4) Cyberlady. She waits at one of the bus stops every morning, and seems to be wearing Cybus Industries earpods. We just keep an eye out for her.

5) Doggie Watch. Ahh, Doggiewatch. We pass a park on the bus and, since it's generally around the same time each day, we keep a lookout for the regulars (this is partially because we'd love to have a dog, but the fates align to deny us one for now). There's MyToy (loves his chewy toys), Small Grey Dog (has the cutest face, and his owner is always standing patiently as he spends ages sniffing things), Elderly Collie (with her equally elderly owner), Stiiiiick! (who loves his sticks, and sometimes has a full-body mohawk haircut), Fat Black Lab (who is the ambliest dog ever, but is no longer quite as fat as his name might suggest) and Hill Dog (whose owner spends ages throwing a ball up a hill so that he can chase it). Sometimes it's good when the bus idles at a stop for a while...

6) Honourable mentions: This Is Italy (as discussed here), and Giant Freddy Mercury. When the next-door Playhouse was showing "We Will Rock You", the Omni centre displayed a 19ft tall bronze statue of the Queen frontman. We said "Good morning, Giant Freddie Mercury" every day, and were sad when he went away.

7) Clancy Docwra. There are a lot of roadworks going on at the moment, and we pass a site which is filled with diggers and tipper trucks and so forth with "Clancy Docwra" written on them. We, under our breaths, sing a verse of Nita Nitro, but swapping "Nita Nitro" for "Clancy Docwra".

So... tell me your weird little rituals!

Schrödinger's moods.

2010-06-27T15:47:00.005Z

It's now less than three weeks until Nettie and Christian come to visit. I am alternating between insanely excited, and panicking about all the clearing and tidying I still have to do.
So yesterday, whilst knowing we're trying to cut down on our junk, we picked up some stuff from my granny that she didn't want any more, and then we went to Ikea.
It's all useful stuff (well, mostly), but still...

We're replacing what I described to Nettie as the 'big horrible plastic thing' we have in the bathroom. It's ugly, it's too wobbly to actually store much in, it looms over the whole room, and what's in it currently? Toiletries that I have been given as presents at one time or another, and never used, and a couple of bottles of conditioner.

Please note that all our other toiletries are sitting next to it. Well, what's the use of that, then?
So it's gone now.
Much better, don't you think?

We also set up our batch of raspberry vodka.
Hopefully it'll work.

And we've done some scrubbing of patches of damp in the bathroom, and we've done a bit of clearing in the spare room, and ~~we've~~ I've done a whole bunch of washing up, and Matt's done some laundry, and we're really feeling very domestic today. And excited. Don't forget excited.

Weird and wonderful things we saw in Amsterdam.

2010-06-21T11:22:00.000Z

Public art.

Arthur Van Schendel is unamused.

Hehehe...

Booby pirate!

Random painting.

Reflection.

Street performers.

Sort of lens antlers public art.

Graffiti!

More graffiti!

Random ladybird tile.

Disturbing mascot of a hotdog stand...

Pigeons having a fight over litter.

Really cute graffiti.

Some graffiti is the same world-wide, it seems.

Cool advert.

Cruel graffiti.

Gardenboat.

Giant bear.

Cool elephant hand rail.

Scary elephant boat mascot.

Airport pirate (and Matt).

Amsterdam, part three.

2010-06-20T14:16:00.001Z

On Monday morning, we sadly packed up, and set out.
We dropped our bag in the storage at the station, then went for our complimentary boat trip. In one of the Dan Dare boats!

We sat out the back - where it was open - despite the cold.
The boat set off round the harbour, then up one of the canals into the city.

This is the best houseboat EVER!

And now for lots of pics of canals and houseboats and pretty scenery...

After our little cruise, we set off around the city again, as our flight back wasn't until the evening. We found Hermitage Amsterdam, which had a rather impressive exhibition of paintings by Picasso and Matisse and so on. I loved it, and Matt was rather bemused by some of the more Cubist ones.

And then Matt was on a bridge.

We then headed up to the FOAM photography museum. Fascinating stuff, especially the Vrolik Collection (info and some of the pictures at the link. Probably not suitable for the squeamish - medical science anomalies).

From there we went to Rembrandt's house. Beautiful. It was really interesting to see how he lived, and where he peddled his paintings (one of his front rooms), and there was a guy there showing people the methods of etching and printing that Rembrandt would have used.

After that, there was time for us to do a last bit of wandering about before heading back to the station.

The most awesome bike I saw, I think, in the time we were there.

This house made my eyes hurt.

Gorgeous architecture...

Garden in the middle of the city...

Windows full of globes and plants...

And most of all, bicycles!

So we picked up our luggage from the station, and set out for the airport. Everything was going well until our plane was delayed for two hours. There's really only so long you can play I Spy in the airport at night. We eventually got on the plane at about 11.25 (Amsterdam time), so we didn't get home until 1am our time. It was worth it, though.

Style Guru, part two.

2010-06-07T16:58:00.003Z

So, allow me to hark back to a previous post for a moment.

I am still really getting involved with my clothing. It's pretty new to me. Not clothing, obviously, but this... well, I suppose it's this enjoyment of it that's new.
I mean, I've always liked certain styles of clothes, but now I find myself actually seeking out articles about them. I realised on Saturday night that two of my great style icons are Penelope Garcia from 'Criminal Minds' and Marianne 'The Rotund' Kirby. Ok, so one's fictional and the other isn't. But they both have such wonderful and FUN ways of dressing. And I think that's what has finally clicked for me - that it doesn't matter what you wear, providing it makes you feel good. And that wearing, say, my studded ankle boots and my studded wristband make me feel really bad-ass on a day when I am otherwise sleepy and just trying to get through work.

Or that wearing ridiculously dangly neon pink chandelier earrings, or my purple leopard-print tights (as seen in my Style Guru post) make me feel kitschy 1970s glamorous, even when waiting for the bus in the rain.

Or that wearing my 'Minnie Mouse' skirt, with its polka dot sash and netting underskirt, or wearing my 'confused bunny' necklace (adapted from a keyring) just cheers me up.

I think part of this new-found delight is due to my having found a whole lot of lovely websites and articles that celebrate people's unique stylings.
I love 'What I Wore Today - In Drawings'.

And I recently discovered 'Worn Fashion Journal', which seems to be how I think of clothes. No 'this is by a designer, so you should wear it' nonsense. Just people talking about how they like to express themselves sartorially. I adore it.

So... yeah. Whilst this may be another mood of my legendarily fickle creativity, I'm enjoying it.

Amsterdam, part two.

2010-05-30T09:58:00.005Z

There are a lot of stairs up to the apartment.

On the Sunday, we set out early to the Van Gogh Museum. We got there half an hour before it opened, and there was already a queue. It was fascinating, and I was thrilled that one could get in good and close to the paintings, and thus get an opportunity to see all the little details. In similar museums and galleries over here, you're cordoned off from the pieces, and you just don't get the same impression. A lot of the paintings are the really famous ones, and it was just so exciting to be able to view them like that! [/art nerd]

Afterwards, we headed out to the Tropenmuseum, which is a fabulous place - we investigated rooms full of statues, and weird musical instruments, and tribal costumes. We wished we could spend a lot longer there.

I was pretty tired by this point.

But onwards!
We found the Sex Museum, and felt we really had to investigate. It was quite interesting, but I must admit that there are only so many penises one can look at before it becomes a tad dull. And I don't know whether I'm too knowledgeable about certain things, or whether my friend who'd told us about the museum is really innocent, but there wasn't really anything in the displays that I found particularly shocking.

After we left the museum, we just ambled around the city for a bit, dropping by the red light district (where I was startled by the girls in the windows - we were in a narrow street, and I'd popped into a shop. When I went in, there were no girls there, and when I emerged, the street was lined with semi-naked women in the window booths. *laughs* Startled by Sex Workers. Now, there's a good name for a band!) and just being touristy.

And this is our local coffee house, of which we were very fond.

Join me soon for the culmination of our adventure!

Amsterdam, part one.

2010-05-23T10:37:00.001Z

We both worked a half day, then made our way to the airport. All went well with the flight, and we arrived in Schiphol airport at about 7.30. After getting utterly confused with the airport - it's also a railway station and a shopping centre - we found our way to the train to take us into Amsterdam.

We got in to our hotel at about quarter to nine. We dropped off our stuff, then headed out to find something to eat. We went one street over and found this square - Rembrandtplein - which was utterly ringed with cafes and restaurants. Matt and I were somewhat overwhelmed.

We eventually found a cheap pizza place to have dinner, then dropped into our local 'coffee' shop. It was actually very cool - it had elaborate murals on the walls, and was very quiet and peaceful. I tried, afterwards, to get a picture of all the lighting over the canal across from our hotel. Hmm.

In the morning, we set out, full of vim and vigour (which was a tad dampened when we discovered it would cost nine Euros to get two pastries from a bakery for breakfast). We were ooh and ahhing over the canals, and the stupidly picturesque scenery.

We'd (after much debate, as I'm sure people will recall) invested in I Amsterdam cards, which got us free entry into a lot of the museums around the city. So we rocked up early to the Rijksmuseum. It's undergoing extensive renovations, but some of it was still open, including a room with Rembrandt's "The Night Watch".

Afterwards, we went for a stroll, then headed back into town to meet Marco. I was very excited, and also very nervous. Matt was helpfully pointing out to me how ridiculous that was, seeing as I've known Marco for five years, but logic does not play a part in these things...
We found him (partially thanks to his Indiana Jones hat), and we headed off for lunch. It was great to finally meet him IRL!

After lunch, we consulted our map, and tried to figure out what to do next. Marco, who doesn't actually live in Amsterdam, kept apologising for his lack of local knowledge, but it was a heck of a lot more knowledge than we had, so anything he could give us was gratefully received!

We wandered around the city for a bit, and then parted ways. Matt and I went to De Nieuwe Kerk, which had a very impressive organ *sniggers*, and then headed out to see what else we could find.

We did find the Red Light District, but it's not so interesting in the daytime.

The Giro D'Italia was running time trials that day, so we were effectively cut off from our apartment. We just wandered until about six-ish. We were pleased, though to stumble across the Museum Our Lord in the Attic, though, as that had been on my wish-list to see.
Anyway, we eventually got back to the apartment, knackered after something like nine hours of walking, to discover that we apparently had a housekeeping service. We had kind of assumed we didn't, so it was a surprise to come back and find out that someone had been in and made the bed, and carefully folded my dirty underwear...

Oh yes. What we were informed was an apartment, and were paying 100 Euros a night for, turned out to be a single room with two teeny offshoots (for the shower and the toilet) and a dollhouse-sized kitchen. We didn't really mind - we weren't spending a lot of time there - but we did feel we'd been somewhat misled about it.

Our dining room / kitchen / bathroom.

Our bedroom / dressing room / living room (please excuse the mess).

The smallest table in the world. Matt couldn't even sit at it, as he couldn't fit his legs underneath it.
The outside of our hotel.

Across the road was an area where some of the canal tour boats were moored. I thought they were brilliant - they looked like 1970's era spaceships. I was expecting to see Dan Dare leap into action, but alas, no.

Sorry it's taken so long to get this posted. Stay tuned for the follow-up!

What do cooking and jewellery have in common?

2010-05-03T16:57:00.007Z

I've been creating interesting recipes these past few days. I know, you're shocked, right? I made a pasta bake thing with garlic (and nutmeg and bacon lardons and spring onions and goat cheese) based on a very simple recipe I found somewhere on teh interwebz.
And I made a leek bread pudding yesterday. It was somewhat experimental, but tasted SO MUCH BETTER than the name made it sound. It was great eaten cold in the early morning, when we got home from clubbing.
Today (and yes, this is the point you can all say 'ew' and back away) I'm making a very simple haggis lasagne for dinner. Yum yum yum.
I adapted it a bit (as I do most recipes) and added in an extra layer of bechamel sauce, as I was a little concerned it might turn out too dry.

Speaking of food, I have added another item to my collection of food-related jewellery.
(Didja see that segue? Like a ninja!)
I'm not sure why I love fake food items as jewellery so much. There's something that's just charming about them. I have been eyeing this ice-cream pendant for a few weeks now.

I also had to stop myself from buying a ring in the shape of a cake with glittery stones on it. My self-restraint is legendary, yo.
Thing is, my tastes seem to run either of two ways. The faintly-gothic items way, and the girly-dorky-cute items way. Things like a zombie Hello Kitty or gothic Bratz dolls (like the ones Chary sent me a few years ago (and which are still proudly on display in the living room, by the way)) are pretty much my ideal. I'm not sure how these two... genres of personal taste match up, and I know it surprises some people that they do, but hey, it seems to work for me. And that's the main thing.

Bonus: out-of-focus photo of me ready for our night out.

Hair! And... things.

2010-04-25T14:49:00.006Z

1) I re-dyed my hair to its dark plum sort of colour on Friday night. I then, with much trepidation, tried a new type of highlight. And it worked! Hooray!

LOVE IT!

2) A bonus to finally having wireless internet? Being able to go online, whilst lounging around on your bed, to try and prove your husband wrong about the average size of a turkey (the bird, not the country). I failed to prove him wrong, but that was not the fault of the internet.

3) Matt and I went out to the park today, for some much-needed running-about time. I couldn't do much in the way of actual running, of course, because last Sunday I dropped a jar on my foot and broke my toe. *sigh*
So Matt did running, and I hobbled along as best I could. Oh yeah, and Matt did some climbing, too.

Let's play a game! Wherrrrre's Matthew?
That's right! He's lurking in the woods like a nerdy Blair Witch!

For more pictures, of Small Things (obviously), hop on over to my photography blog, wherein you will find many wonders.

4) It's our wedding anniversary this Wednesday (nine years! Where does the time go?), and I don't know if we're going to do much. We'll probably go out for dinner, but I think it's going to be low-key, as we are going to Amsterdam in a couple of weeks as a belated celebration. I can't wait!

Ok, this post is rambling and disjointed enough, I think. Hopefully I'll be more together next time. Bye!

The robots are coming!

2010-04-18T17:42:00.003Z

When you're sitting on the bus, and it's raining outside, and the windows are hard to see out of because they have raindrops trickling down them, and you're a little bit sleepy... I think you can be forgiven for momentarily confusing these traffic signs for the security robots from WALL·E.

Did a wee bit of babysitting today, whilst Mouse played with the samba band. Zeph had his very first performance as samba baby! He doesn't have much in the way of samba stamina, though. He gave up playing after only a few minutes, and then fell asleep while I was holding him. Pfft. Five-month-olds.

Sometimes, the most interesting photographs I take are those where I have an idea, vaguely point the camera, then just see what it looks like. I am very fond of this one.

I'm needing to get going with more exercise. Not for any weight-loss reason, particularly, but because I just... feel like I need to. Due to changes at my job, I now spend every second week sitting down a lot more than I used to, and I can feel that taking its toll. I get quite jittery, and occasionally sprint down the corridor to burn off some energy (everyone does that at work sometimes, right? I'm not a freak?) I mean, I'm still walking quite a bit in work, and carrying heavy files, but not as much as I have been. It's still a lot more of a physical job than a standard desk job is.

So, I can't do anything high-impact, because my knees are shot to hell. When it's nice out, I sometimes get the bus halfway home, then hop off and walk the rest of the way around Arthur's Seat, which is beautiful. But you know how it is - if it's rainy and cold, I just can't bring myself to walk it, and get the bus instead. It's the weather's fault. Totally. Not that I'm lazy or anything...

I think I'm going to try to walk at least part of the way home on nice days, and maybe I should find the Wii Sports disc. I really enjoy the tennis, and it gets me moving, which is good. I am also still doing Callanetics, but just for five minutes a day. I had to give up a lot of the leg exercises ages ago, since they were taking too high a toll on my knees. I just don't want to make any high-energy resolutions that I'm simply not going to keep.

What do you guys do for exercise? Any ideas or recommendations?

Bang Goes the Theory!

2010-04-10T17:06:00.009Z

Matt and I are huge fans of the BBC light science show Bang Goes the Theory. It is presented by four people:

Liz Bonnin, who has a degree in biochemistry and a masters degree in wild animal biology and conservation
Dr Yan Wong, who has a PhD in computational and mathematical modelling of self-incompatibility systems in plants
Jem Stansfield, who has a degree in aeronautics, and a qualification in welding
Dallas Campbell, their resident "amateur scientist".

We were highly excited when, as part of the Edinburgh International Science Festival, a big marquee was set up by the galleries halfway along Princes Street. We were more excited when it was plastered with BGtT banners. We felt we really must go to see their roadshow. The website said that you could "meet the presenters, get hands-on with science in the Interactive Area and see the live Bang Goes the Theory science shows", although it's never easy to be sure how much one can do these things at this sort of event.

We got down there at about 11.30 to queue for the 12.00 show. Matt noticed soon, though, that the 1pm show was being hosted by Jem, rather than Liz, who was doing the 12.00 show. So we hopped out of the queue again to wait for that one.

We do like Liz (and Dallas, and Dr Yan), but Jem is our absolute favourite. We've been big fans of his TV career - he's done Wild Thing, I Love You with Bill Bailey, appeared as an expert on Scrapheap Challenge, and was 1/3 of the team on the unfortunately short-lived science show Men In White.
He's a genius inventor and has, over the course of BGtT, climbed a building using a suction pad machine made out of the innards of two cheap vacuum cleaners, made a go-cart reach nearly 50mph powered only by a fire extinguisher, created a human-powered hydrofoil, and built many other really cool inventions.

We went over to the interactive area, and found Dr Yan demonstrating little science tricks to some kids. We stayed to watch, and then were absolutely delighted when Dallas and Jem came over to join in. I was complimented by all three of them on my t-shirt (I was wearing my Schrӧdinger's Cat t-shirt), and we started talking about how confusing quantum theory is for the layperson. And then Dr Yan and Jem got into an argument about it. I hardly understood a word, mind you! And I got autographs from all three of them, then asked if I could be really nerdy and get a photo with them. Jem said "It's hardly nerdy in comparison to what we've just been doing!" Good point.

Me with Dallas and Jem.

Dallas suggested that they all look wise for Matt's photo with them. Matt and Jem jumped at the chance.

The guys were really nice, and I certainly hadn't expected that much interaction - they could just have said hi and scrawled an autograph, but they seemed pleased to have the chance to talk to us. After about half an hour, we headed off to queue for the show. I got a chance to nip out and get Liz's autograph, although she was a lot busier and more surrounded by fans than the guys were. It might have something to do with the fact that she really brings the glamour factor to the show...

And then we went and watched the show, hosted by Jem, along with James Soper. It featured a spud gun that shot at 220mph, and a demonstration of wall climbing using Jem's vacuum machine.
It was pretty damn cool.

We came home, I had a nap, then we watched Doctor Who, just to cement our nerd credentials.

Book List - reading and re-reading.

2010-04-02T14:24:00.003Z

Some of the things I've been reading over the last month.

The Soldier Son trilogy by Robin Hobb. I love Robin Hobb, in a vaguely fangirl-ish sort of way. Her trilogies always follow the same pattern, though. The hero/ine is doing ok. Then something bad happens. Then something else unfortunate happens. Then BONG! A further terrible thing.* This trilogy may well be the most depressing one yet, but she writes so beautifully, and so engagingly, that it doesn't matter. Or rather, it does, in that you are rooting for please, just one good thing to occur to the hero? But they are wonderful because of, as well as despite, that.

*Sorry, Bill Bailey reference.

Dawn of the Dumb by Charlie Brooker - a follow-up to Screen Burn. Ok, a thing you should know - Charlie Brooker is a genius. A misanthropic, hilarious genius. I'm a big fan of his articles for The Guardian, and he has the dubious honour of being one of only two people whose writings have made me guffaw out loud on public transport (the other being Terry Pratchett).

And speaking of Terry Pratchett... Wintersmith. The third? Fourth? time I've read it.

Uglies by Scott Westerfeld. I saw a copy of this book years ago, and saved the title and author name in my mobile. I came across it in a branch of Waterstone's the other day, and bought it immediately. Ok, yes, it's a novel aimed at teenagers. That doesn't, however, mean it's badly written. I've found out it's actually the first of a trilogy, so I'm keen to get hold of the other two novels. I am, in fact, planning to drop in to Waterstone's this afternoon to purchase the second novel, Pretties.

If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor by Bruce Campbell. What can I say about this book? It's an autobiography of Bruce Campbell. Bruce. Frickin'. Campbell. The man is a god! It's actually a fascinating insight into his life, featuring a cubic shitload (totally a real unit of measurement) of photos and an interesting peek into Campbell, Raimi, et al's younger days. I laughed a lot, I learnt new things... it's just awesome.

I've also been re-reading a lot of Agatha Christies - Peril at End House, Murder on the Orient Express, The Mysterious Affair at Styles, The Mystery of the Blue Train, They Came to Baghdad, Murder at the Vicarage... the list goes on and on.

Anyone have any good recommendations for me?

Oh, and I just joined up to dailybooth.com, where I shall be posting photos of me with books. Come see!

And I hope everyone has a great Easter / chocolate day.

This is IT-ALY!

2010-03-28T09:12:00.002Z

So, we decided to go out for lunch yesterday. To a new restaurant that's opened on Antigua Street at the top of Leith Walk.
This place has a long, long history of failed enterprises. Many different types of restaurant have come and gone, most of them only managing six months or so of actual trading. The thing is, it's directly across the road from a whole slew of well-established eateries - off the top of my head, I can list three or four Italian places, a fish place, a Thai place, and a Nepalese place (which, incidentally, does a great lunch deal, and was one of the places we took everyone to when they came to visit).

We go past this corner on the bus every morning, and it's been being done up for months. I took against it at first, because they had a sign in the window proclaiming "This is IT-ALY! Taste of Italy coming soon!"
Fairly innocuous, you might think, but that meant that every morning, as I arrived at work, I was humming Danni Minogue's 1993 pop hit "This Is It". And that's a horrible thing to do to someone, especially at that time in the morning.
But then we walked past it on the way to the cinema a couple of weeks ago, and had a glance at the menu. Which looked good, and very reasonably priced.

So we went there. And boy, I hope they make a success of this place!
I had spaghetti fagolini e pesto - potatoes and green beans sauteed with basil pesto (and spaghetti, obviously). It was fantastic. The slight sweetness of the potatoes mingled with the slight saltiness of the pesto. The spaghetti was just al dente. The pesto was oily, as pesto should be, but not overwhelmingly so. Nom nom nom. That's a recipe I'm going to have to recreate at home.

Matt had the quatro formaggi pizza. But this one, oh, it was so much better than the standard four cheese option. Along with mozzarella, gorgonzola, and emmental, it included goat's cheese. It was possibly the most delicious pizza I've ever tasted. (Yes, we shared our lunches.) I thoughtfully said at one point "Y'know, I think I would give up my hypothetical firstborn for this."

It most certainly isn't a place for people on a diet, and I was somewhat thrown by the fact that they charged £2 for a can - let me repeat that, a can - of lemonade, but it was awesome nonetheless.

Style Guru.

2010-03-20T18:03:00.001Z

I have been wondering recently about style. Style as a concept in and of itself, rather than as fashion, or as a way of fitting in.
Friday, it having been dress down day at work, I wore the outfit below. It's not that dissimilar to my usual outfits, except that I wore my much-beloved hat, and also I wore a t-shirt/dress with skellingtons on.
Oh, and I had to crop the picture, because I got Matt to take this in the evening, I'd taken off my shoes, and I thought that my mismatched socks (one bright pink with owls on, the other stripy red and black with a skull on) didn't quite suit the outfit as my big buckly New Rock boots did.

I got a lot of comments. Some were in the "Why are you wearing a hat?" or "You're a freak." sort of arena, but mostly they were "Your hat is great!" or "Love the look!" or "You have such a sense of style!"

Now, I don't think I do have a sense of style. I suspect that would involve thinking more about what I wear, and perhaps deliberately wearing items that 'go together'. All I do is wear what I like. And judging by the reactions I garner, what I like is somewhat unusual. *shrugs*

Today's outfit (please excuse the squinting - it was taken shortly after I got out of bed, plus I had no glasses on):

Those are my new and adored purple leopard-print tights.

Anyway, what's your opinion of style? Is it inextricably linked to fashion, either popular or not? Is it a reflection of personality? Or is it just a matter of wearing what you love?

Funny how things linger.

2010-03-14T11:18:00.005Z

I wrote this song (which also has a melody) back when I was about 14. For some reason, it still hangs around me, especially when I'm depressed. It's not well-written, but it lingers.
*shrugs*

Father, mother,
Sister, brother,
Why do you try to possess me?
Father, mother,
Friend or lover,
I am not who you think me to be.
I am not me.

Do you see the girl behind the mask?
The tears run down her face.
The wall is round her.
No-one has found her.
The mask is back in place.
I am not me.

Father, mother,
Sister, brother,
Why do you try to possess me?
Father, mother,
Friend or lover,
I am not who you think me to be.
I am not me.

The smooth facade
To hide her heart
Has been in place for years.
She don't seem real.
A smile of steel.
Ice eyes to freeze her tears.
I am not me.

And that's all I have this week.