give me your answer do
why are you carpeting my lawn today
and why so many of you?
OK so that was lame, but the daisies look amazing out on the back green in their thousands. Reminds me of making a daisy chain that went right around our house when we lived up in Lewis.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Have wheels, will travel
We're quite excited and delighted to be drivers once more - a lovely man from Yorkshire delivered this wee cutey a couple of weeks ago (thanks Intelligent Finance, yay company cars).
Since then we've clocked up 500 miles or so - work and back a few times (the poor scooter's feeling neglected), plus a couple of longer trips. Last weekend the sun was shining (just like in the car photo taken the weekend before - it's not all dreich and dreary in Edinburgh) so we headed out to St Abb's Head for a bracing clifftop walk (Scotland does bracing very well). Saw lots of seabirds making kamikaze aerial manoeuvres, and lots of old men with binoculars. A bit further south (almost in England, in fact), we stopped in at Eyemouth for a fish supper at Giacopazzi's, followed by home-made Italian ice-cream. Mmmmm.
On Friday, after work, we headed further afield. As we were driving to an outdoor concert (always a risky proposition in this part of the world), the torrential rain en route was somewhat concerning. But the sun was shining by the time we got to Culzean Castle, for the Burns an a' that Gala Concert. Culzean, by the way, is Cullane, and I also discovered on Friday that Menzies is correctly pronounced something more like "Menghis".
This is a blurry pic of Culzean lit up in pink at the end of the concert. It's about 11pm, and not dark yet...one of the best things about Scotland at this time of year.
The main reason we trekked across to the Ayrshire coast was to see this man:
Lou Reed. He only sang four songs, proclaimed Scotland to be "colder than Finland" and was perhaps a touch grumpy , but it was still very cool to see him, live, and in such a stunning setting.
Other acts included the orchestra of the Scottish Opera, Eddi Reader (singing Burns: my fave was John Anderson My Joe), Phil Cunningham & Duncan Chisholm (very nimble-fingered on the fiddle and accordion) and folk singer Dougie Maclean. His Caledonia made me feel very Scottish and somehow sad. Whether I'm in NZ or in Scotland now, I think I'll always miss the other place. The downside to dual citizenship...sometimes feeling torn.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
It's a lockout!
Got home from the pub quiz at the Antiquary last night at 11-ish. 10th out of 16 - a pretty poor performance. A & I suspect we may not be asked back!
So, 11pm, A takes out his keys, and discovers one has developed an unusual curve while in his pocket. Tries to straighten it and *snap*. Broken clean in half. Crap.
We borrow some pliers from a neighbour who's still up, but the haf-key is too short to open the lock. Nobody seems to have the key for the long ladder upstairs. Time to call the locksmith.
Enticed by big ads in the yellow pages promising no call out fees* (beware of the asterisk) we called a few. And discovered that £100 is the going rate for such a service. Per hour. Minimum. Plus of course VAT and materials. Not a buyers market, then.
We waited in our neighbour's flat and watched a rerun of Footballers Wives. There's something comforting about trash TV in moments of crisis. Eventually, anonymous locksmith arrived (later, when things weren't going so well and I asked his name, he refused to tell me).
His initial proclamation that we were in real trouble because the lock on our door was more at home in a jewellers shop and was impossible to open didn't fill me with confidence. Since it was now well past midnight, the volume of his delivery and propensity for swearing wasn't great either. Still, he had a box of tools. There must be something in there that could sort it, right?
Wrong. Said box contained a motley assortment of re-purposed and homemade junk. Not a purpose-built gadget in sight. The torch ran out of batteries about 2 mins into the job (yes, you guessed it, "materials" and therefore chargeable). A noisy half hour later, after much cursing and pulling scarves through the letter box (but magician he wasn't), I remembered that our spare key might be within reach. Off he went to get the fishing rod. Really. A fishing rod. Probably still had bait remnants smeared on it. Didn't work.
Next he had a hissy fit and noisily packed up his "tools". Didn't really want to stand on a ladder in the dark and rain to get in the window. He was a master locksmith. We could call anyone we liked. They wouldn't be able to get in either. Our flat was impenetrable. The only way was to drill out the lock, but that couldn't be done at night in a common stair. Stomp shout.
Suddenly, I was reminded of a TV programme I'd seen called something like "all locksmiths are dodgy", which showed that in 95% of lockouts they drilled out the lock rather than using less invasive procedures, so they could charge you for more materials (at a premium). Suddenly, I was glad of the late hour, and understood his bad humour. No drilling allowed.
Somehow, he changed his mind and decided he would get his ladder out and try the window. Must have been that vision of big fat wads of cash. More noise and harumphing. But once he was up the ladder, he was in within 30 secs. So why didn't he try that first?
So feeling a bit tired this morning, and determined to make some kind of a spare key plan to avoid ever having to experience a master locksmith again.
So, 11pm, A takes out his keys, and discovers one has developed an unusual curve while in his pocket. Tries to straighten it and *snap*. Broken clean in half. Crap.
We borrow some pliers from a neighbour who's still up, but the haf-key is too short to open the lock. Nobody seems to have the key for the long ladder upstairs. Time to call the locksmith.
Enticed by big ads in the yellow pages promising no call out fees* (beware of the asterisk) we called a few. And discovered that £100 is the going rate for such a service. Per hour. Minimum. Plus of course VAT and materials. Not a buyers market, then.
We waited in our neighbour's flat and watched a rerun of Footballers Wives. There's something comforting about trash TV in moments of crisis. Eventually, anonymous locksmith arrived (later, when things weren't going so well and I asked his name, he refused to tell me).
His initial proclamation that we were in real trouble because the lock on our door was more at home in a jewellers shop and was impossible to open didn't fill me with confidence. Since it was now well past midnight, the volume of his delivery and propensity for swearing wasn't great either. Still, he had a box of tools. There must be something in there that could sort it, right?
Wrong. Said box contained a motley assortment of re-purposed and homemade junk. Not a purpose-built gadget in sight. The torch ran out of batteries about 2 mins into the job (yes, you guessed it, "materials" and therefore chargeable). A noisy half hour later, after much cursing and pulling scarves through the letter box (but magician he wasn't), I remembered that our spare key might be within reach. Off he went to get the fishing rod. Really. A fishing rod. Probably still had bait remnants smeared on it. Didn't work.
Next he had a hissy fit and noisily packed up his "tools". Didn't really want to stand on a ladder in the dark and rain to get in the window. He was a master locksmith. We could call anyone we liked. They wouldn't be able to get in either. Our flat was impenetrable. The only way was to drill out the lock, but that couldn't be done at night in a common stair. Stomp shout.
Suddenly, I was reminded of a TV programme I'd seen called something like "all locksmiths are dodgy", which showed that in 95% of lockouts they drilled out the lock rather than using less invasive procedures, so they could charge you for more materials (at a premium). Suddenly, I was glad of the late hour, and understood his bad humour. No drilling allowed.
Somehow, he changed his mind and decided he would get his ladder out and try the window. Must have been that vision of big fat wads of cash. More noise and harumphing. But once he was up the ladder, he was in within 30 secs. So why didn't he try that first?
So feeling a bit tired this morning, and determined to make some kind of a spare key plan to avoid ever having to experience a master locksmith again.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
More on bunny rabbits
Real live ones this time though, with bouncy legs and cottony tails. We saw lots of them this weekend, at the nature/sport themepark that is Center Parcs. Lots of ducks too (check out the photo), and squirrels and big fat woodpigeons. And tadpoles and squashed toads (I thought the "toads crossing" sign was a joke until I saw the squashed ones).
Someone at work today asked me why I had gone to Center Parcs - they had the (quite reasonable) opinion that you only went there if you had children. We did see a lot of children. Hooning around on bikes, poking aforementioned ducks, screaming in the swimming pool. Even more dangerous on the bikes, however, were the adults who had forgotten how to ride. Wobbly. Everyone's on bikes, you see, because you have to leave your car in the carpark - it's a car-free environment. I guess that means that the toads were squashed by bikes.
We were at CenterParcs among the trees for a reunion of one of the branches of my family. 44 kith and kin (of whom I had met only 4, including A, before the weekend) - some closely connected, some more tenuous, some I still haven't figured out.
The sun shone, we had a big barbecue, people told their favourite stories. It was nice to meet the extended family, but still feels strange to be so far from my immediate family.
Someone at work today asked me why I had gone to Center Parcs - they had the (quite reasonable) opinion that you only went there if you had children. We did see a lot of children. Hooning around on bikes, poking aforementioned ducks, screaming in the swimming pool. Even more dangerous on the bikes, however, were the adults who had forgotten how to ride. Wobbly. Everyone's on bikes, you see, because you have to leave your car in the carpark - it's a car-free environment. I guess that means that the toads were squashed by bikes.
We were at CenterParcs among the trees for a reunion of one of the branches of my family. 44 kith and kin (of whom I had met only 4, including A, before the weekend) - some closely connected, some more tenuous, some I still haven't figured out.
The sun shone, we had a big barbecue, people told their favourite stories. It was nice to meet the extended family, but still feels strange to be so far from my immediate family.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Save Tob(e)y
It's amazing what people will spend their money on. I've always found the wealth (in both senses of the word) of animal charities in the UK a bit disturbing. Are we so dislocated from each other that it's easier to give to animals than to fellow humans?
Taking things a step further, animal lovers are now shelling out thousands to stop someone eating their pet rabbit. Clever chap has already raised US$28,000, and been on telly.
Our pal, Al, never one to miss a trick, suggests there's another Tobey out there that we could all save, if only our pockets were deep enough. Go on. Dig deep. Save Tobey Maguire.
Taking things a step further, animal lovers are now shelling out thousands to stop someone eating their pet rabbit. Clever chap has already raised US$28,000, and been on telly.
Our pal, Al, never one to miss a trick, suggests there's another Tobey out there that we could all save, if only our pockets were deep enough. Go on. Dig deep. Save Tobey Maguire.
Monday, April 18, 2005
Painting
It's a year since we bought this place here in EH1o. About time I sorted out the kitchen, thinks me. Anniversaries seem to have that effect - a good motivator to do something.
I thought it would be a small job, just stripping and painting a couple of walls. But then A said all the woodwork should be painted too. Fine. Still should manage this long weekend. Hah!
Stripping the walls started well, with the paper coming off easily. The second wall, though, had seven layers of paper (including quite a few vinyl layers). Aagh. It soon became apparent that all that paper was holding the wall together - as the paper came off, so did bits of the wall. Lucky I'm so experienced in the art of Polyfilla.
Back to wall one, which seemed so easy. But the wallpaper paste was actually superglue, unbudgeable despite sugar-soaping. Only sugar soap applied with sandpaper would do the trick.
A bit more sanding this morning, then I'm ready for painting.
I thought it would be a small job, just stripping and painting a couple of walls. But then A said all the woodwork should be painted too. Fine. Still should manage this long weekend. Hah!
Stripping the walls started well, with the paper coming off easily. The second wall, though, had seven layers of paper (including quite a few vinyl layers). Aagh. It soon became apparent that all that paper was holding the wall together - as the paper came off, so did bits of the wall. Lucky I'm so experienced in the art of Polyfilla.
Back to wall one, which seemed so easy. But the wallpaper paste was actually superglue, unbudgeable despite sugar-soaping. Only sugar soap applied with sandpaper would do the trick.
A bit more sanding this morning, then I'm ready for painting.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
No posts
This blog has been a bit gappy lately.
During the last couple of weeks, work has been keeping me busy and away from internet access - I was at a conference in Milan, and before that a meeting at the gorgeous Grand Hotel Villa Serbelloni in Bellagio. If only our punishing 8am-10pm schedule (wall-to-wall stem cell science!) had afforded more time to enjoy the stunning and luxurious surrounds. At least I had trompe l'oeil ceilings, elaborately carved columns and huge gilt mirrors to distract me when the data, proteins, transcription factors and other scientific detail became too much for me. And meals were always a welcome interlude - especially the "molecular cuisine" we enjoyed on the first night. This meal included nitrogen-frozen ice-cream of the smoothest possible texture, created right in front of us by a virtuoso chef of the Ferran Adrià school of cooking.
During the last couple of weeks, work has been keeping me busy and away from internet access - I was at a conference in Milan, and before that a meeting at the gorgeous Grand Hotel Villa Serbelloni in Bellagio. If only our punishing 8am-10pm schedule (wall-to-wall stem cell science!) had afforded more time to enjoy the stunning and luxurious surrounds. At least I had trompe l'oeil ceilings, elaborately carved columns and huge gilt mirrors to distract me when the data, proteins, transcription factors and other scientific detail became too much for me. And meals were always a welcome interlude - especially the "molecular cuisine" we enjoyed on the first night. This meal included nitrogen-frozen ice-cream of the smoothest possible texture, created right in front of us by a virtuoso chef of the Ferran Adrià school of cooking.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
weird things
There is a guy lying on the pavement across the road. It's cold and damp, not really the kind of weather for lying on the street. He is youngish, though (hasn't collapsed there), and seems quite happy - wiggling his feet and chatting to my neighbour who was I guess concerned about a guy lying on the street.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Professor Doherty?
I got an email at work today, from organisers of a conference in Milano that I'm going to next week (yes, I have scheduled a day's shopping at the end!), which began "dear Professor Doherty". Naturally, I corrected the mistake. The next email I received was addressed to "Dr Doherty". It seems that in the field I work in, it is inconceivable to be a lowly old Ms. It's OK, though. I'm getting used to being the least educated person in the building!
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Tell me a story - plot generator
Since DIY's been on the back burner, we've been busy building something else instead. A plot generator.
A what?
A nifty gizmo that's guaranteed to while away hours of your time, producing Hollywood-style plots at the click of a button. Give it a shot. It's a throwback to A & Steve's code geek days (they also made a programme that produced cocktail recipes), rewritten in PHP and housed on my nice new website.
Let me know what you think.
We caught up on a couple of movies this weekend too, Closer and Sideways. London and California. Art and wine. Beautiful people making a mess of things, and not so beautiful people making a mess of things (but not so irredeemably). I liked both, but Sideways wins for making me want to hit the bottle (in a wine-appreciating way, of course!). And for making me laugh lots.
A what?
A nifty gizmo that's guaranteed to while away hours of your time, producing Hollywood-style plots at the click of a button. Give it a shot. It's a throwback to A & Steve's code geek days (they also made a programme that produced cocktail recipes), rewritten in PHP and housed on my nice new website.
Let me know what you think.
We caught up on a couple of movies this weekend too, Closer and Sideways. London and California. Art and wine. Beautiful people making a mess of things, and not so beautiful people making a mess of things (but not so irredeemably). I liked both, but Sideways wins for making me want to hit the bottle (in a wine-appreciating way, of course!). And for making me laugh lots.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Springtime?
It feels like it. Today was a home-work day, and I had windows open, bare arms and sockless feet as the sun streamed in. It's been like this for days, unseasonably warm and spring-like. Crocuses are sprouting all over the place. It's enough to distract a girl from the dangers of climate change for long enough to enjoy the moment!
We hired a car this weekend, as we had a family 5oth to attend in Uddingston (much like the family 60th in Uddingston). Nobody in my family lives in Uddingston, I hasten to add, but for some reason St John the Baptist Church is a favourite venue. Must be the cheap beer (£1.40 a pint) and liberal smoking policy, which to me seem incongruous with a church hall, but it is like a different country over west. Uddingston is a Glasgow commuter town these days, but hard to commute to a) from Edinburgh and b) on a Saturday night. Hence the car.
Anyway, with such splendid weather and a car to play with, the Pentlands were a good choice. If you've been to our flat, they are the hills we look out on. The hills were nice and high (for lowlanders like us) and the views right nice:
View from Carnethy Hill, the Pentlands
Those of you who hang out for DIY updates (or should that be DIY, A?) will be pleased to know that we now have two shelves in the study, nifty floating bracketless ones that were a complete bastard to mount on our crumbly masonry. It's starting to feel like a proper office now. Progress on the bathroom has been slower, and our designer curved ceiling is yet to materialise. Maybe we need a designer's help?
We hired a car this weekend, as we had a family 5oth to attend in Uddingston (much like the family 60th in Uddingston). Nobody in my family lives in Uddingston, I hasten to add, but for some reason St John the Baptist Church is a favourite venue. Must be the cheap beer (£1.40 a pint) and liberal smoking policy, which to me seem incongruous with a church hall, but it is like a different country over west. Uddingston is a Glasgow commuter town these days, but hard to commute to a) from Edinburgh and b) on a Saturday night. Hence the car.
Anyway, with such splendid weather and a car to play with, the Pentlands were a good choice. If you've been to our flat, they are the hills we look out on. The hills were nice and high (for lowlanders like us) and the views right nice:
View from Carnethy Hill, the Pentlands
Those of you who hang out for DIY updates (or should that be DIY, A?) will be pleased to know that we now have two shelves in the study, nifty floating bracketless ones that were a complete bastard to mount on our crumbly masonry. It's starting to feel like a proper office now. Progress on the bathroom has been slower, and our designer curved ceiling is yet to materialise. Maybe we need a designer's help?
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Hokey Pokey Squiggles...
...quite possibly the best biscuit in the world. I'm tucking into my Christmas stash. mmmmmm. Thanks mum!
I survived a week in the world of science
Thursday lunchtime, and it's the end of my (formal) week's work. One of the perks of being part-time (although I'm less part-time than I was at the beginning of the week - I've been upgraded to 3 days/week).
I've learned lots of new words, like transgenesis and hematopoietic (nothing to do with verse), attended a seminar which felt more like a piece of avant-garde theatre (incomprehensible but lots of juicy words), and discovered that posters are not what you and I might think of as posters. But I'm not quite as green as I was on Monday, and already have trips to Brussels and Bellagio in the pipeline. I still don't have a lab coat, though.
I've learned lots of new words, like transgenesis and hematopoietic (nothing to do with verse), attended a seminar which felt more like a piece of avant-garde theatre (incomprehensible but lots of juicy words), and discovered that posters are not what you and I might think of as posters. But I'm not quite as green as I was on Monday, and already have trips to Brussels and Bellagio in the pipeline. I still don't have a lab coat, though.
Monday, January 17, 2005
Snow, new job
As I type, Edinburgh is being blanketed in white. It's funny how the weather sometimes seems to be attuned to events in my life.
Today I started my new job, at EuroStemCell, as communications and outreach officer. The role will involve dealing with the media, developing an "outreach package" (including a short film, website and leaflets), and a lot of translating cutting-edge science into plain English. First, though, I need put together a communications plan.
It's a part-time job, 2.5 days/week, leaving me plenty of time to develop other projects. I'm based at Edinburgh University's Kings' Buildings, a 25 min walk from here, in a building that sometimes smells of mouse. I haven't been issued with my lab coat yet (although it's on my orientation list!).
Today I started my new job, at EuroStemCell, as communications and outreach officer. The role will involve dealing with the media, developing an "outreach package" (including a short film, website and leaflets), and a lot of translating cutting-edge science into plain English. First, though, I need put together a communications plan.
It's a part-time job, 2.5 days/week, leaving me plenty of time to develop other projects. I'm based at Edinburgh University's Kings' Buildings, a 25 min walk from here, in a building that sometimes smells of mouse. I haven't been issued with my lab coat yet (although it's on my orientation list!).
Monday, January 10, 2005
The MORI Lady
Scotland has been in the grip of some crazy weather in recent days. Edinburgh has been spared the brunt of it - no floods here - but it's been unpleasant nevertheless.
So when the hapless MORI lady rang my doorbell on Saturday afternoon, looking apologetic, damp and windswept, I couldn't send her away. She promised her questions would take only 20 minutes, and would be interesting, so as I'm a pushover, I invited her in.
A torrent of hard-hitting, personal, political, bizarre and just plain daft questions was unleashed. First up was "who would you vote for at the next general election", and some general, opinion poll, impression of the government-type questions. They also asked about the biggest issue in education, and a lot of questions about retirement provision - would my parents be living with me in their retirement? - would my children be providing for my retirement? - and other such crystal ball material.
One of the most bizarre questions involved looking at pictures of egg cartons, and identifying whether they were free-range, barn or battery. As they all said what they were on the cartons, I'm not sure what the point of this was - reading test? I also had to pick my favourite real and fictional double acts - French and Saunders, Sooty and Sweep - perhaps Gordon and Tony have decided to work on their relationship and are looking for guidance.
I saw Scorsese's latest, The Aviator, on Friday. It's the story of aviation pioneer, eccentric billionaire, filmmaker and wooer of leading ladies, Howard Hawks.
Leonardo DiCaprio puts in a fantastic, nuanced performance in the title role, surrounded by a big-name supporting cast that includes Cate Blanchett, Kate Beckinsale, Alec Baldwin, Alan Alda and Ian Holm. Blanchett, in particular, manages to capture the essence of Katharine Hepburn - a character who borders on caricature - without overdoing it.
The film, at 166 minutes, is long, but flies by in a whirl of Hollywood glamour, fabulous costumes, business by instinct (huge decisions in split seconds) and airborne adventures. Yet accompanying the glamour and Hawks' outward ascendance is his inner turmoil and descent into madness. Hawks embodied the classic dichotomy - genius and madness . Scorsese treats it well. While mental illness frames both the film and Hawks' incredible achievements, leaving the viewer wondering what happened to Hawks, the darkness isn't overpowering or bleak - just human.
So when the hapless MORI lady rang my doorbell on Saturday afternoon, looking apologetic, damp and windswept, I couldn't send her away. She promised her questions would take only 20 minutes, and would be interesting, so as I'm a pushover, I invited her in.
A torrent of hard-hitting, personal, political, bizarre and just plain daft questions was unleashed. First up was "who would you vote for at the next general election", and some general, opinion poll, impression of the government-type questions. They also asked about the biggest issue in education, and a lot of questions about retirement provision - would my parents be living with me in their retirement? - would my children be providing for my retirement? - and other such crystal ball material.
One of the most bizarre questions involved looking at pictures of egg cartons, and identifying whether they were free-range, barn or battery. As they all said what they were on the cartons, I'm not sure what the point of this was - reading test? I also had to pick my favourite real and fictional double acts - French and Saunders, Sooty and Sweep - perhaps Gordon and Tony have decided to work on their relationship and are looking for guidance.
I saw Scorsese's latest, The Aviator, on Friday. It's the story of aviation pioneer, eccentric billionaire, filmmaker and wooer of leading ladies, Howard Hawks.
Leonardo DiCaprio puts in a fantastic, nuanced performance in the title role, surrounded by a big-name supporting cast that includes Cate Blanchett, Kate Beckinsale, Alec Baldwin, Alan Alda and Ian Holm. Blanchett, in particular, manages to capture the essence of Katharine Hepburn - a character who borders on caricature - without overdoing it.
The film, at 166 minutes, is long, but flies by in a whirl of Hollywood glamour, fabulous costumes, business by instinct (huge decisions in split seconds) and airborne adventures. Yet accompanying the glamour and Hawks' outward ascendance is his inner turmoil and descent into madness. Hawks embodied the classic dichotomy - genius and madness . Scorsese treats it well. While mental illness frames both the film and Hawks' incredible achievements, leaving the viewer wondering what happened to Hawks, the darkness isn't overpowering or bleak - just human.
Monday, January 03, 2005
The Long Tail
An article in Wired that I found really interesting, analysing how media markets have changed, fragmented, specialised...and what that means for producers and consumers. Chris Anderson argues that:
It's worth reading the whole article if you're interested in the impact of things like Amazon.com recommendations.
I'm in web research mode, as the above might suggest. A's back at work, so I'm thinking about work too - what that might mean in the year ahead.
"The future of entertainment is in the millions of niche markets at the shallow end of the bitstream...
Unlimited selection is revealing truths about what consumers want and how they want to get it in service after service, from DVDs at Netflix to music videos on Yahoo! Launch to songs in the iTunes Music Store and Rhapsody. People are going deep into the catalog, down the long, long list of available titles, far past what's available at Blockbuster Video, Tower Records, and Barnes & Noble. And the more they find, the more they like. As they wander further from the beaten path, they discover their taste is not as mainstream as they thought (or as they had been led to believe by marketing, a lack of alternatives, and a hit-driven culture)...
Long Tail business can treat consumers as individuals, offering mass customization as an alternative to mass-market fare."
It's worth reading the whole article if you're interested in the impact of things like Amazon.com recommendations.
I'm in web research mode, as the above might suggest. A's back at work, so I'm thinking about work too - what that might mean in the year ahead.
Sunday, January 02, 2005
white, shiny and new
It's that time of the year...contemplation, resolution, overindulgence, bad TV. Makes you wish it would just snow, make everything look clean and white, provide a meteorological distraction.
Last night, it did. We went to the movies (saw Garden State on a second-hand but reliable recommendation (Morg) ) and A said it would be snowing by the time we came home. It was. I don't know how he does that. It was especially exciting as the first snow of the season, and it's nice that it snowed on New Year's Day.
I really liked the soundtrack to Garden State, and the film's quirky randomness - images like the boyfriend in faded armour, the boat atop the crevasse, the beige Canterbury helmet, "we'll go after we've buried your mom, I guess," seem to have stuck in my mind.
Today my Bellshill rellies came for lunch. We ate split pea and frankfurter soup - sounds weird I know, but apparently all those round golden things are symbols of prosperity and just the thing for New Year feasting. I hope my unrisen bread didn't reverse the effect. We also ate "smelly socks cheese" (except the person who called it that), gooey brie and chocolate cake (but not all at the same time), washed down with gallons of tea. There were three Dohertys in the house, after all.
My uncle gave me a yoga book for Christmas, and I did a nice winter practice this afternoon (the book's chapters are in seasons). He also gave me a book about world peace and how I can help make it happen - I'll give it a go and keep you posted.
New Year's resolutions of sorts (may be updated after reading said book):
Happy New Year, y'all.
Last night, it did. We went to the movies (saw Garden State on a second-hand but reliable recommendation (Morg) ) and A said it would be snowing by the time we came home. It was. I don't know how he does that. It was especially exciting as the first snow of the season, and it's nice that it snowed on New Year's Day.
I really liked the soundtrack to Garden State, and the film's quirky randomness - images like the boyfriend in faded armour, the boat atop the crevasse, the beige Canterbury helmet, "we'll go after we've buried your mom, I guess," seem to have stuck in my mind.
Today my Bellshill rellies came for lunch. We ate split pea and frankfurter soup - sounds weird I know, but apparently all those round golden things are symbols of prosperity and just the thing for New Year feasting. I hope my unrisen bread didn't reverse the effect. We also ate "smelly socks cheese" (except the person who called it that), gooey brie and chocolate cake (but not all at the same time), washed down with gallons of tea. There were three Dohertys in the house, after all.
My uncle gave me a yoga book for Christmas, and I did a nice winter practice this afternoon (the book's chapters are in seasons). He also gave me a book about world peace and how I can help make it happen - I'll give it a go and keep you posted.
New Year's resolutions of sorts (may be updated after reading said book):
- Find a new way of making a living (that one's been forced upon me, but I am embracing it)
- Laugh more, fret less
- Blog more
Happy New Year, y'all.
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Merry Christmas from eh10
That's Jeremy, Andrew and me on a post-turkey, pre-trifle stroll. Jeremy's wearing flashing santas, Andrew's got a sparkly santa hat, and I think he might be trying to be a turkey.
Olly was the photographer, Netty was keeping warm inside (cruel Christmas flu).
We had a super Christmas, just like a childhood one (lots of toys and chocolate, endless dishes), only more champagne. Toy of the day was probably the i-Top, although the Powerball was also popular (Jeremy the reigning champ, much to the other boys' chagrin), and my favourite was my new pink iPod mini. So cute. Lots of lovely NZ goodies too, including a paua Christmas tree for our Christmas tree.
Speaking of Christmas trees, they are better here than in NZ. You get to choose from lots of different varieties - branchy ones or bushy ones, short or long needles, silver or green, 3 feet or 13 feet (metric still hasn't really caught on). Ours is branchy, and its piece de resistance is an African mama painted steel angel from South Africa.
There are a few more Christmas pics on atkd.
Sedition
It's great to see Timothy "electoral fraud" Selwyn up to old tricks again - and still wearing the same suit. Earlier this month, he was accused of an axe attack on NZ PM Helen Clark's electoral office, and has been charged with charged with "conspiracy to commit criminal damage and seditious conspiracy." Serious stuff.
Back in my student days, when I lived above the undertakers with a collection of weirdos and Tom, I got to know Mr Selwyn quite well. Not voluntarily, I hasten to add - he dated one of the weirdos, and spent a lot of time sitting in our kitchen dressed in only a towel. Enough to put a girl off her breakfast. He was also quite fond of expounding his particular view of the world (whether or not you wanted to hear it). It seems that he has developed even more forceful methods of putting across his "alternative viewpoint".
Back in my student days, when I lived above the undertakers with a collection of weirdos and Tom, I got to know Mr Selwyn quite well. Not voluntarily, I hasten to add - he dated one of the weirdos, and spent a lot of time sitting in our kitchen dressed in only a towel. Enough to put a girl off her breakfast. He was also quite fond of expounding his particular view of the world (whether or not you wanted to hear it). It seems that he has developed even more forceful methods of putting across his "alternative viewpoint".
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
In need of a holiday
How can I tell?
- I just spent half an hour looking for a book of stamps that I had put in a safe place only half an hour before.
- I almost sent my computer to an early grave by dousing it in tea.
- The contents of our study and bathroom and some of our living room too are arranged around the walls of our bedroom, and everywhere else in the house is covered in dust or wet paint. There are works in progress - a good time to get out.
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