Merry like Christmas

At the beach with Jakob, Sacha and Fuensanta

2009-07-26T11:22:00.000Z

Pondering whether to resurrect this site

2006-12-20T19:50:00.000Z

New Job!

2006-02-18T17:18:00.000Z

Well, folks, I finally did it. After years of getting absolutely no-where, I finally got that phonecall.

"We were really impressed with your interview and we'd like to offer you the job..."

WhooHoo! Yeah! etc.etc.

I didn't cheer on the telephone, naturally. Rather, I skillfully negotiated myself two pay rises. Yep, that's twice what they were originally wanting to offer me and I haven't even started there yet.

Ah, life is grand.

Did I mention the new job is in Aberdeen? Only a small matter of four hours on the train to the north east of Scotland, on the edge of the highlands.

The train ride there is stunning. It follows the coast, via Edinburgh (where I stopped off for a Power Breakfast with Imo), crosses over the Forth of Firth, through Dundee, out across the rivers Dee and Tay and over the rugged cliffs. Past seals basking on rocks and old stout dogs being walked along wide silver beaches by even stouter old men. Mothers urge small children to wave up at the train as we whistle past. The train tracks mostly run high above the cliffs and coves but at one point it actually seems to run along the beach, there is nothing between you and the sea but sand. The beaches look so idyllic and inviting: wide empty stretches of glistening sand. Inviting that is, until one looks at the cold, grey sea, which has all the tempting allure of liquid nitrogen.

The interview itself went spectacularly well and I was convinced that the job was mine, but self-doubt crept in and by the time I got home again I was miserable. What if, after such a great interview for a job that I have years of experience at in my 'specialist field' even, what if I still didn't get the job? I'd have to throw myself under the Newcastle-Aberdeen express.

Of course, that didn't happen and now I just need to find somewhere to live in Aberdeen, and bloody quickly too. Ideally, I'm looking for an eccentric millionaire (geriatric, homosexual preferred, so as no bothersome midnight visits) who has a nice large city-centre house, with a garden and who isn't too bothered about little things like rent.

If you know anyone matching that description, please get in touch.

So long and thanks for all the fish

2006-01-21T01:16:00.000Z

This is not something you see everyday. Whales in central London just don't happen that often.

Read all about it

Are the animals of the world trying to tell us something? First flaming mice in America, then snakes and hamsters colluding in Japan, now whales in London. Is something going on?

I think Douglas Adams could have told us...

So it came to pass...

2006-01-19T20:13:00.000Z

And Yea, the Snake Shall Lyeth down with the Hamster and there shall be great joy and the world will laugh and nameth the Hamster 'Brave Rodent' and 'Lunch'...

Who makes this stuff up? Read all about it

Maybe the snake is dieting. "Hamster? No thanks, I'm trying to quit"

Like the Windmills of My Mind

2006-01-11T13:30:00.000Z

This village gets more and more like Royston Vasey everyday.

We received this notice through the door yesterday:

WINDMILLS

WANT TO KNOW MORE?

Come to the VILLAGE HALL

BRIEF PRESENTATIONS BY LOCAL PEOPLE

4PM SATURDAY

THIS IS NOT A PROTEST MEETING

Well, it sounds like a protest meeting to me. If even the notice is shouty what are the chances of it not turning into a public lynching. It stops just short of saying BRING YOUR OWN PITCHFORKS. And they insist on calling the turbines 'windmills', which is very irritating. If they can't even get that right it doesn't bode well for a reasoned and informed debate.

My neighbour, John, mentioned yesterday that he thought I was very brave for publishing a letter in the local newspaper in support of the windfarm proposals. I think I'm starting to see what he means. I won't be able to go to the meeting unless I change shifts at work, which may be a good thing.

The Flaming Mouse of Justice

2006-01-09T10:28:00.000Z

A US man who threw a mouse onto a pile of burning leaves could only watch in horror as it ran into his house and set the building ablaze.
Luciano Mares, 81, of Fort Sumner, New Mexico, found the mouse in his home and wanted to get rid of it.

"I had some leaves burning outside, so I threw it in the fire, and the mouse was on fire and ran back at the house," he was quoted as saying by AP.

Though no-one was injured, the house and everything in it was destroyed.

"I've seen numerous house fires, but nothing as unique as this one," Fire Department Captain Jim Lyssy said.

Serves him right, too.

It doesn't mention what happnened to the mouse though.

Wise words

2006-01-08T15:18:00.000Z

"Education is the ability to listen to almost anything without losing your temper."
--Robert Frost

The Science Blacklist

2006-01-03T20:11:00.000Z

Whitehouse crimes against science as told by the BBC. I'm listening to this whilst trying to write yet another job appplication form.

Political interference in science is causing widespread alarm across the United States. Thousands of scientists are accusing the Bush administration of systematically suppressing, manipulating and distorting their work. Many government scientists have resigned in protest, claiming that industrial and ideological powers are infiltrating their work to an unprecedented level.

BBC Washington Correspondent Justin Webb investigates the growing number of US science scandals - from editing climate change research to repressing the sale of contraceptives.

This program will not come as a surprise to anyone who has been following these things at all, but it is scary to hear it told succinctly and on BBC Radio 4.

You can listen to the program for yourselves on the BBC Radio 4 website here

Welcome to 2006

2006-01-01T19:20:00.000Z

We celebrated last night in traditional style, by getting absolutely shitfaced.

If, like me, you find you have a tiny wee hangover today, then this New York Times article may be helpful.

Other favored hangover balms, however, would seem worthless, he said. Eggs, which many sufferers swear by, are high in protein and cholesterol, but neither of those seems to have anything to do with hangovers. Spicy food will do nothing more "than make your breath smell really interesting," Dr. Rosenberg added. As for the raw fish Mr. Anante relies on, it is of no apparent value, "unless you're a really drunk polar bear."

Hair of the dog, meanwhile, only prolongs dehydration and replenishes the body with toxins. As for fatty foods, they're "a mistake, because the liver can't process all of these things at once," said Dr. Marc K. Siegel, an internist at New York University Medical School. "You're bombarding your liver with a toxin, then bombarding it with fat."

To him the best bet is a cup of coffee, a dash of Mylanta and a lot of water. "It's not sexy," Dr. Siegel said. "But those things work."

It was all good fun though. We stayed at home, had friends over for fondue and Feurzangenbowle, and then we went over the church with a neighbour just before midnight and rang the bells to toll in the new year and frightened a resident church mouse.

I hope you had a good time too and that 2006 is all that we hope it will be.

This is not food

2005-12-29T15:35:00.000Z

Is written on my shampoo bottle, which is reassuring as I have been using it to wash my hair.

We have just arrived back from Germany today. I'm too tired to write about it now, but the shorthand version is:

I learnt to knit (Impressionist6 you would be so proud of me, I have created a masterful rectangle of green that looks as though it has been fought over by moths)

I got to play Aunty with my five adorable nephews.

We shopped, we got presents, we gave presents, we sang carols around the piano, went to church on Christmas eve, ate too many biscuits and cakes, you know, the usual stuff.

I hope you had a good Christmas too.

Love Rules

2005-12-21T10:09:00.000Z

You would have to have a heart of icey flint not to be touched and pleased for those gay couples getting wed today. Every couple should have the right to declare their love in front of their friends, families and communities, and to have it respected, not to mention have the same inheritance/next-of-kin/tax rights.
Those supposed Christians protesting and trying to spoil their special day by shouting vile things should be ashamed of themselves.
Read All About It

Aah, Christmas...

2005-12-20T21:37:00.000Z

My mother and sister are screaming at each other over the mango salsa, J is trying to pack four crates of empty beer bottles into our tiny car ready for our trip to Germany tomorrow. I have finally wrapped all the presents for here (the ones for there are in a carrier bag to do later) and I'm half way through getting the washing dried to pack. And I'm on my third glass of Chablis. Lovely.
We had our work Christmas 'do' on Friday night. I was full of flu with a very sore throat so I hardly drank anything and we left early - sadly missing the drunken fights between co-workers. Dammit, why do I always miss the best bits?
I spent the following two days in bed with my throat doing alarming shades of red and yellow, but I'm much better now and now that most of my shopping is done and we're nearly ready to go, I'm almost feeling festive.
To those of you feeling entitled (and rightly so) to a Christmas card from me, I should warn you that things on that front are a little bit behind schedule. I'm starting a trend for 'January Cards'. This doesn't mean I don't care deeply about you all, I do, I just haven't done anything about it yet. Sorry.
Ditto the invitations to our New Years Eve party...check your emails.

Cute is...

2005-12-13T11:32:00.000Z

Pictures of kittens!

Can't help myself, sorry. Kitten on the right is Jack, kitten on the top of the pile to the left is Daisy.

Feeling festive Yet?

2005-12-11T23:40:00.000Z

No? Well, then this should help..Oh Come all ye Faithful

I blame Elle myself, she's a bad influence you know.

I was sorry to hear that George 'Monkey boy' Bush has gotten into trouble for being too secular with his Christmas cards this year. Perhaps he should have read his Bible more closely. I think Luke 2:24 would make an appropriate Christmas motif for the White House this year. The bit when the Little Lord Jesus (as he was referred to before they started calling him just plain ol' JC) gets presented at the temple shortly after his birth (fast forward shepherds and angels a little bit) and we get the oft forgotten christmas imagery of slaughtered doves "They also went to offer a sacrifice of a pair of doves or two young pigeons as required by the law of the Lord". A beautiful Christmas decoration, I'm sure you'll agree. We've slaughtered our doves already. I hope you have too.

The Gods of Football

2005-12-10T00:08:00.000Z

are smiling on England....

England have been drawn against Paraguay, Sweden and Trinidad & Tobago in the 2006 World Cup finals group stage next summer.

Trinidad and Tobago? Correct me if I'm mistaken, but isn't that like drawing the Isle of Wight in the World Cup?

I'm looking forward to summer already. Read All About It

(I realise that I have just jinxed the World Cup, we are now guaranteed to be humiliated by all of our first round matches, I apologise unreservedly)

Talk less. Listen more

2005-12-10T00:06:00.000Z

Talk less. Listen more
Talk less. Listen more
Talk less. Listen more
Talk less. Listen more
Talk less. Listen more
Talk less. Listen more
Talk less. Listen more
Talk less. Listen more

Sorry? Did you say something?

Graduation - the MLC Official Photos

2005-12-07T20:31:00.001Z

Or at least the only photos I liked - I think blurry is so much better than harsh reality.

The last two are of me being 'arranged' by the photographer. We also have the proper, professional picture, which will be sent out as Christmas presents to the poor unsuspecting Aunts. I'm sure they'll be thrilled.

Hush now, what's that sound?

2005-12-06T20:51:00.000Z

Sssh, can you hear that?

No? Nothing?

That's the sound of my phone not ringing.

Interview No.3 in three months, in London yesterday and no news yet. The silence is deafening, it shouts "you didn't get it, stupid, now piss off before we call the police"

I may be being prematurely bitter, they were interviewing people today as well as yesterday, but hmmm. Somehow, I think somewhere there is someone called Felicity, or Clarissa who is congratulating herself on her new job. Which should have been mine.

Post a Secret?

2005-12-02T10:02:00.000Z

J sent me this link and it's fascinating. Prepare to waste an hour or more exploring it.

Bill O'Reilly Saves Christmas!

2005-11-30T08:21:00.000Z

Relax folks, Bill O'Reilly has saved Christmas from us bleedin' heart liberals. MerrylikeChristmas is grateful.

O'Reilly: "Every company in America should be on its knees thanking Jesus for being born"

During the November 28 "Talking Points Memo" segment of his Fox News show, The O'Reilly Factor, host Bill O'Reilly decried those who avoid using the holiday greeting "Merry Christmas": "Anyone offended by the words 'Merry Christmas' has problems not even St. Nicholas could solve." He further asserted: "Every company in America should be on its knees thanking Jesus for being born."

From the November 28 edition of Fox News' The O'Reilly Factor:

O'REILLY: What's happened is frightening. A legal assault by the ACLU [American Civil Liberties Union] combined with the media that blatantly promotes secularism has succeeded in convincing some Americans that the words 'Merry Christmas' are inappropriate while celebrating the national holiday of Christmas.

This, of course, is nuts. Anyone offended by the words 'Merry Christmas' has problems not even St. Nicholas could solve.

Every company in America should be on its knees thanking Jesus for being born. Without Christmas, most American businesses would be far less profitable; more than enough reason for businesses to be screaming Merry Christmas.
From Mediamatters

How does he make this shit up? And who exactly has been convinced that saying 'Merry Christmas' is in appropriate? I for one am rarely offended when people take my name in vain.

And I bet Jesus is relieved to have Bill O'Reilly on His side.

Aagh Pissy Zum!

2005-11-27T00:14:00.000Z

That's not rude in Afgani, honest.

I'm sorry to have neglected you, my blogging chums. If I say I've been busy you might not believe me, so here is a brief synopsis of my week:

We celebrated Eid, a little late, with the Pakistan Cultural Society in Gateshead; only the PCS could hold a major Muslim celebration at the Federation Brewery...cue many lame jokes about not being able to organise a piss up in a brewery (mostly made by me). Highlight of the festivities was watching an Afganistani pop star miming to Afgani Golden Oldies, my favourite of which had the chorus "Aaah pissy zum, aagh pissy zum zum!" (or at least that's what it sounded like to me) and enjoying the spectacle of portly middle-aged men dancing, arms akimbo, in concentric and eratic circles. Drank more Coke than I have in the last ten years but proved to myself that I can enjoy an evening and still be capable of walking out unaided at the end of the night.

I won two of my drunken ebay purchases: cat toys and a Coast silk top. I haven't told J about the second one yet, I guess I have now - for some reason he is never impressed by a bargain, I could tell him I had paid anything and as long as it was something I really liked and wanted, he really wouldn't argue, it's not a reaction I am used to. But the ebay top was REALLY cheap! I know my female friends will appreciate my sense of achievement.

I have discovered that I am even better at my crappy airport job than even I ever imagined, I have twice broken my own 'personal best' target. I must have an honest face. Whatever the reason, I have come to the sobering conclusion that I am currently being paid as well, if not better, than most of the museum jobs that I am applying for. Begging the question: why am I bothering. Answer: do I really want to spend the rest of my life saying "do you want to win a car?" I think that answers itself.

I have another job interview. In London, of course, they all are, not through planning but that is just where the jobs are. I sent in the application on Monday and got the interview letter today. Heigh-ho, here we go again.

Our heating oil ran out on Monday morning, as blizzards were forecast for Britain and my parents in law were forecast for Tuesday. Naturally, the oil people couldn't possibly deliver for 2-3 working days so we stoked the wood and coal fires and hoped the in-laws brought thermal underwear. In the end the snow avoided us entirely and all was well. We spent a night huddled in front of the wood fire in the dining room playing card games but it was not too cold really.

The annual visit of J's parent's from Germany is timed to coincide with the start of our German Christmas Market and they also visit several local schools to teach making Christmas decorations to the GCSE German classes and to bake like little demons for days so we can sell their biscuits at the market (along with wooden stuff imported from Germany, Pyramids and the like.

Yesterday, I spent eight hours at the airport and then we went to the Sage to a Czech-themed concert, including Mozart's Prague symphony, as well as work by Janacjek, Dvorjak and Krasa. It was excellent, but we still had things to do at the Chapel for the market this morning, which meant we were up again at 7am today, I worked until 12:30 and then went to my other job until 6pm. We played cards games again all evening and now I'm going to bed.

The market started well and seems to continue our tradition of being our most popular annual event. Which almost makes up for how exhausting it is.

Where's Wally?

2005-11-21T00:20:00.000Z

Don't answer that.

I'm missing my far off friends. I got my dissertation mark, but still no news on my overall degree mark. I got a 2:i on my dissertation (one tutor thought it was ok, the other marker tore it to shreds basically, so their compromise mark was 66% - to say I was a little disappointed would be an understatement). My degree mark will probably be a 2:i overall but could just possibly be a Geoff Hurst (first). I guess I could live with a 2:i.

Busy doing nothing

2005-11-17T08:33:00.000Z

I went to London on Monday for another job interview, this time at the National Army Museum in Chelsea - nice location, but even having lived in London for almost five years, it is not a museum that I had visited before - which should have rung a bell or two.

I really wanted to want the job, but I just couldn't muster any enthusiasm for it. Anyway, the interview went well enough but the two old duffers on the panel (like a cliche of museum curators; all military ties, tweed jackets and comb-overs) and the 1970's insitutional feel to the place put me off and I suspect I may have been a bit radical for them. So I got the 'thanks but no thanks' letter yesterday, not surprised and not disappointed. Still, it was very pleasant to stroll through Chelsea on a sunny November and it has helped me to work out what I really want from my next job - and it's not that.

No news on my dissertation mark, and therefore no news on my degree mark. I emailled my tutor last week and haven't heard anything yet. This either means that my dissertation was so bad she can't bring herself to tell me how awful my mark is, or it's just so brilliant that all the lecturers wanted to read it twice.

Or she's away for the week. (Impressionist6 has actually just emailled to say our tutor is away, so clearly I've been letting my imagination run wild for no reason).

Bill Hicks gets the last word

2005-11-12T00:19:00.000Z

OK, real genius is being dead for ten years and still being topical.

"I asked this guy, I said, 'Can I ask you a question? It's a one-word question.' "Go ahead." "Dinosaur. Come on man, Dinosaur fossils. What's the deal?" "Dinosaur fossils? God put those there to test our faith." "I think God put you here to test my faith, dude. You believe that?" "Uh huh." Does that trouble anyone here? The idea that God might be fuckin' with our heads? Anyone have trouble sleeping restfully with that thought in their heads? God's running around, burying fossils: "Huh huh ho. We will see who believes in me now, ha HA. I'm a prankster god. I am killing me. Ho ho ho ho." You know, you die, you go to St. Peter, "Did you you believe in dinosaurs?" "Well, you know, there was fossils everywhere." [Bill makes a whap sound on the mic] KOOM Ooowwwwwww. "What are you, an idiot? God was FUCKING with you! Giant flying lizards? You moron! That's one of God's easiest jokes!" "It seemed so plausible! Aieeeeeeeee!" Bound for the lake of fire. . . . While I appreciate your quaint traditions, superstitions, and, you know, I on the other hand am an evolved being who deals solely with the source of light which exists in all of us, in our own minds, no middle man required. [laughs] But anyway, I appreciate your little games and shit, you putting on the tie and going to church, a de da de da. But you know there's a LIVING GOD WHO WILL TALK DIRECTLY FUCKING TO YOU. Sorry, but not too many pages of the Bible that FORGOT TO MENTION DINOSAURS!"

and while he's on the subject, here are a few more gems from Mr Hicks that made me laugh...

"Christianity has a built-in defense system: anything that questions a belief, no matter how logical the argument is, is the work of Satan by the very fact that it makes you question a belief. It's a very interesting defense mechanism and the only way to get by it -- and believe me, I was raised Southern Baptist -- is to take massive amounts of mushrooms, sit in a field, and just go, "Show me."

"We are the facilitators of our own creative evolution."

"You ever notice how people who believe in creationism look really unevolved?"

Once and for all

2005-11-11T10:40:00.000Z

Just so there is no misunderstanding on this subject, I'll just clarify again for those of you who were not paying attention the first time I mentioned this issue...

This is NOT a museum

It is a theme park for nutters and idiots, perhaps, but definitely not a museum. And, if the 'answers in Genesis' the question therefore must have been: 'how do we get all the idiots in North America into one place and separated from their money?'

And another thing, if the answer is in Genesis, why does Genesis not mention little things like dinosaurs?

And that, my friends, is my final word on this sorry chapter in American culture.

How to Toilet Train Your Cat

2005-11-09T13:11:00.000Z

I hope this is genuine, I've been laughing out loud reading this for the past ten minutes. Those photos are hilarious. Visit this website to read more, "just remember that you will never have to clean a litter box again".

Let the public decide

2005-11-09T01:12:00.000Z

I stumbled upon this site whilst looking at entirely unrelated matters (I actually was searching for cultural memory texts on amazon) but the link intrigued me.

So my question to my female friends principally, but there is no reason that my male friends can't add their opinions if they have any, is: a/ Eeew! a reusable natural sea sponge tampon? or b/ Wow, a reusable natural sea sponge tampon! See for yourselves here at the Sea Pearls website.

Walkies

2005-11-07T13:14:00.000Z

They look like dead dogs because they had a very long and adventure-filled walk yesterday, Molly got into a fight with Fizz, swept down stream in the swollen river and chased rabbits and pheasants all over the landscape. No wonder they look tired.

Saying it with flowers

2005-11-05T12:13:00.000Z

But what does it say when the first flowers I've been given in ages come from my boss, rather than my husband?

They were a reward for the being the best, incidentally, no romantic intentions.

Comedy moment yesterday at work as my hold-up stockings decided they wouldn't up hold any longer and everytime I moved they started to descend. I was alone on the stand and had to resort to hiding in the car to pull up my stockings or wedging myself between the small desk and the pillar to have a rummage up my skirt. I'm sure I've made some dirty old men very happy.

Doing something for the pet community

2005-11-02T13:00:00.000Z

It's fairly common knowledge, here in a rural farming community anyway, that cows produce more milk when they get to listen to the radio in the milking shed. Indeed, an interview with Prince Charles last week followed him through his organic farm and the sounds of Terry Wogan's show on BBC Radio2 were audible, entertaining a shedful of contented-looking bovines. So I guess it was only a matter of time before someone came up with the idea of DogcatRadio. It's an internet radio station dedicated to pets stuck in the house all day without their owners. You can read all about it in the New York Times article here.

Boo II

2005-11-01T12:42:00.000Z

We did get some Trick or Treaters round last night - but of course I was at work so I missed them. Mum did a grand job of making the house spooky (not too difficult in our house), had candles lit in the dining room and Ish did an impersonation of the Hound of the Baskervilles.

Boo!

2005-10-31T08:51:00.000Z

Carved and scary-looking pumpkin = 1

Bags of gelatine-based sweets and mini chocolate bars (approximate number of individual sweets: 60) = 2

Number of small children/adults in cute home-made costumes = 0

Damn, I'm just on the wrong continent for this. OK, so maybe it is only 9am...not exactly the witching hour. Perhaps some small ghouls will visit tonight and relieve me of the mini sweets mountain I have. I shall declare at midnight, and maybe post a photo of my excellent pumpkin.

We were visited by one monster last night, a tick the size of a broad bean munching its way through Jack's head. It must have been there for days but Jack rarely lets anyone stroke or fuss him so it was just a fluke that I stopped by his cushion last night and thought I'd see if he felt in the mood. Maybe the tick was hurting him and he knew he'd need some human intervention to get it out. Either way, I felt it almost immediately and as my laptop was on and to hand I did a quick google: tick removal cats and got a step-by-step guide on how to get the bugger out. I seem to remember hearing stories of burning them off with cigarettes or other stupid ideas, but that is definitely not recommended by the Veterinarians of America. I grabbed my tweezers and gently holding Jack in my lap with one hand, I grabbed the tick and pulled. It was really hanging in there, it took a good minute of pulling with all my might to get it out, poor old Jack just grumbled a little bit and finally out it popped. The website said to drop the still-living beastie into alcohol to kill it, a touch extreme as I don't think we have Lyme's Disease in Britain, but I complied and dropped it into a thimble-ful of vodka, which meant I could examine it properly. I had got it all out, head and eight still-moving legs and massive bloated body. Then I threw it and the vodka on the fire. That'll teach it to suck on my cat's blood.

There you go, an educational yet creepy Halloween tale.

Weird World (that doesn't look right either)

2005-10-27T11:03:00.000Z

I think it was this photo accompanying a New York Times story that caught my eye. I'm less impressed with the whole goats eating and shitting fruit kernels from which locals make oil to be used in cooking and cosmetics, or even that the trees which produce the fruit live for up to 200 years and only grow in a few select places in Morroco. No, it's definitely the photos of those goats standing on branches that really don't look like they should support them that makes me laugh. It looks like a cartoon.

Fromage to Eternity

2005-10-23T14:33:00.000Z

We went to see the new Wallace and Gromit film last night. I loved it, so no surprise there then. The man behind us in the cinema loved it so much he read out all the puns, (I have to admit I may also have done this once, when I spotted a book on Wallace's shelf titled 'Fromage to Eternity'). Lots of laughs by the entire audience though.

It's clearly not just me that has spent too many hours of my life watching Neighbours; as this discussion on the BBC news website shows.

Just Remember: you heard it here first

2005-10-21T23:46:00.000Z

Ok?

Watching Jools Holland Live is always an education, it's like the best nightclub in the world - the sort of nightclub you wish really existed, but it doesn't, it's just a tv show. Nontheless, he gets some great people on and tonight I really enjoyed a singer called Corinne Bailey Rae, from Leeds. Her first album isn't out yet but you can hear some of her work on her website here

The Cat Whisperer

2005-10-21T10:13:00.000Z

The cats are doing better these days, you can now walk into a room without them both immediately vacating like you had just thrown hot water at them. It is also just about possible to get a purr out of Daisy - as long as you are prepared to sit on the floor for ten to fifteen minutes while she circles you closer and closer until you can actually stroke her. Then she might even curl up on your knee until your backside is frozen and your legs have gone numb. Jack has only let me stroke him once, while he slept in the dogs' basket, but he would not purr.

This was Jack looking to escape via the log pile in the fireplace yesterday.

Everybody needs good Neighbours

2005-10-18T21:54:00.000Z

It's like checking out an old flame by googling their name; suddenly I'm drawn, helpless against my better judgement, to the website and the Neighbours 20th Anniversary Catch up episode. Even when I know I risk losing your respect, I can't help myself. I know it's only matter of time before I start taping epsiodes while I'm out at work so that I can save them up and watch them all together in one glorious full-length Neighbours feature film. Oh Happy days.

About six-months before the final implosion of my first marriage I wrote to the producers of Neighbours telling them that my husband and I had watched their show every day since High School and would they please name a character after my husband as I knew it would please him (an act of devotion I could have cited in court had it ever come to that - it didn't, but I think you'll agree there's no Judge in the land that wouldn't have signed the house over to me, on the strength of that alone, as the faithful and wronged party). This request the show's producers duly did, but, oh cruel irony, by the time it was screened in this country my dear husband had come adrift from his senses, packed his bags and was shagging some geriatric bint from Birmingham. That little escapade could have been an episode of Neighbours in its own right.

It has just occured to me that perhaps, with the benefit of hindsight, it is just possible that having one's name used for a character on Neighbours is enough to drive one off the sanity-rails and into a dark, dark place where women who remind one of one's mother seem like a good shag prospect.

I had never thought of it like that before. Perhaps it was all my fault afterall.

WTF?

2005-10-17T10:58:00.000Z

When I see job adverts like this one it really boils my piss, as my dear old father would say.

'A key role of the post will be interpreting the collection and making it accessible to a wider audience through an
exciting programme of contemporary exhibition, events and activities.

Applicants must be self-motivated, committed, flexible and possess interpersonal skills. A degree in history or a related subject, along with a post graduate museum qualification or the AMA are essential.

This post is an excellent opportunity for a museum professional to extend their management and creative skills. An understanding of visitor needs and ideas for developing new audiences are essential, as is the ability to work with a diverse
range of people and agencies.'

So far so good, what am I so angry about? Well the pay scale for this choice position, requiring a masters degree or an AMA, is...

£15,675 -£17,469

So I've studied for four years and got myself into a cart-load of financial debt so that I can have the privilege to earn an absolute pittance. What they should add to the bottom of their advert is 'Must be independantly wealthy'.

I was actually earning more doing a crappy admin job in a small market town in rural Northumberland, a job that didn't require a Masters Degree or even the use of both sides of my brain at once.

A few years ago I turned down a job at a local museum because I was offered a pay rise by my current non-museum employer that the museum couldn't match and we just needed the money too much for it not to matter. The Head of Department, when explaining why they couldn't match the offer, said "well, you know all museum jobs are badly paid, I can only afford to work here because my husband has a good job". This may go some way to explaining the lack of diversity in the museum world - why on earth would anyone want to work so hard for such little reward. A job in a museum is just an interesting diversion for the upper middle-classes, one is clearly not meant to actually live on ones earnings.

I think I could rant about this for quite a long time, but I have job applications to write.

From the Sublime

2005-10-15T22:09:00.000Z

We finally went to a performance at the Sage Gateshead tonight - we had watched it being built and had wandered about its public spaces, but tonight was our first proper performance. It was absolutely sublime. We witnessed Mr Jian Wang do things to a cello as written by Mr J S Bach. As an enchore he played a piece which he described as written by a blind orphaned Chinese beggar - there's nothing like a sob-story involving abandoned children to get the audience on side, but the beautiful music helped too. Mr Wang played like he was in a trance, he sat bolt upright in his tux, his bow hand never moved but seemed to be guided by the bow, rather than the other way about. His left hand was the only real part of activity, it reminded me of an angry spider threathening to attack him if he moved his head any closer. Good stuff, and it was only ninety minutes so I didn't have time to get bored or fractious.

To the Ridiculous

My very good friends of long-standing will already know about my dirty secret, but I think that this article in the Scotsman helps to put my case; that Neighbours is a fine contribution to the artistic and cultural heritage of humanity.

Psst!

2005-10-13T23:37:00.000Z

Jack is playing with a toy mouse, just like Georgey used to do! It's so cute but if I try to stand up or even look at Jack he's going to run away, so I'll just keep typing and pretend like I haven't noticed.

'Jack' is the Cat word for

2005-10-12T22:40:00.000Z

'I'm going to eat you up and spit out your bones' or perhaps it means 'Fire!' in the language of cat.

Certainly every time I say "Hello Jack!" he runs for the hills like I'm about to break my fifteen years of vegetarianism with a fresh slice of raw cat.

Every Object Tells a Story

2005-10-12T22:36:00.000Z

This sounds like a fun project. Just turn up at the University next tuesday afternoon with an object that is important to you, sit in the Lilac Taxi and have your story and your object videoed. Here's a handy link to expain it better than I've just managed: Link to the Lilac Taxi

I don't know what I'd take, I shall have to think about it.

I'm throwing a Pity Party

2005-10-12T14:21:00.000Z

and I'm the guest of honour.

I was so disappointed not to get the super cool job that I was interviewed for last week that I went into a bit of a fug.
I must learn not to get my hopes up every time I get an interview though. I even bought a British Museum cereal bowl at the shop, so I could have my breakfast from it every day in my British Museum office but I can't bring myself to unwrap it now. Talk about a pity party. That'll learn me.

I get knocked down but I get up again, you're never gonna keep me down, as Chumbawumba so rightly put it and today I've just sent off another application form and I'm looking at two other jobs as well, so life carries on as before.

Does anyone want my BM cereal bowl?

A Photo for Hedley

2005-10-10T23:48:00.000Z

Dickie gets culture

Crazy Daisy

2005-10-10T23:18:00.000Z

The new cats are unsettling in. A week ago Daisy took off for five days in the great outdoors and left us feeling guilty and upset, scowering the village checking roadsides and under hedges loooking for her rain-soaked lifeless body. Only for her to bowl up at the kitchen door, like Bobby Ewing stepping from the shower, as though nothing had happened. Now she's back she is so much more affectionate but it has to be on her terms. This so far involves me sitting on the kitchen floor like an idiot for hours at a time while I fuss her and she rubs herself against me, purring and talking. If I stand up or try to stroke her by merely bending down then she runs away. Tonight she finally decided to sit on my knee while I watched tv and I got the full kneading of claws into my leg while she purred. Thanks Daisy. I know this is a sign of affection but it still hurts quite a lot.

On Saturday it was Vanishing Jack's turn to, well, vanish. He was last seen stalking the chickens under the yew tree, which made them squawk, which in turn made the dogs bark and go running over, which made Jack head for the hills. That was at about 4pm on Saturday, it is now 12:30 am on Tuesday and he has only just come home.

Well, at least we can say that they have both explored and that all things considered this is where they now call home. Or at least, this is where the food bowl is.

Everyone should get married

2005-10-09T10:44:00.000Z

at least once (or, in my case, twice).

We've suddenly found ourselves in a flurry of weddings. Yesterday was Sophie and David's turn to get spliced. We bowled up for the evening reception at Otterburn Towers and it was a bit like walking into a sixth form reunion, lots of familiar faces stirred a vague recollection of names and school encounters.

A few faces that weren't so vague, of course. It was lovely to catch up with Lindsey and Jocelyn and their gentlemen. We danced like loons, drank too much wine and pledged that we wouldn't leave it another two years before we see each other again. And we meant it, but who knows - we live at opposite ends of the country.

Kate and Marcus Get Hitched

2005-10-05T10:15:00.000Z

We were lucky enough to be invited to Kate's wedding on Saturday and I don't think I have ever been to a more elegant and stylish do. Kate, as ever, was effortlessly beautiful and although it was the first time I had met the groom I could tell (not least because he has the good sense and good taste to have married Kate) that he is someone I will like very much once we get the chance to get to know one another.

Here are a selection of the day's photos. The service was at St Anne's church in Kew and the reception was at Templeton in Putney.

Kate outside the church

St Anne's, Kew

The Reception at Templeton

Cat, Cat, Dog

2005-10-05T09:58:00.000Z

The Amazing Vanishing Jack, his place of preference is on the landing, keeping watch for dogs.

Spot the Cat competition. First Prize = Daisy

Molly wanted her photo taken too

No News is

2005-10-05T09:56:00.000Z

no news.

I had a job interview on monday and I thought it went really well. But it is now Wednesday morning and I haven't heard anything so I guess that is not good news.

Stand and be counted

2005-09-28T18:20:00.000Z

Well, our little village is tonight a seething hotbed of politcal debate, stirred from its usual state of complacency and self-centred content into a luddite lynch-mob. What larks!
What could possibly rile the normally indifferent and apathetic people of sleepy Whelpers? Renewable energy. Or, more accurately, the perceived threat to their property prices from the five proposed wind farms that have been announced for our surrounding fields.
We watched in amusement a local television news item this evening interviewing a local farmer who claims he will have to leave his farm because he has a phobia of tall structures - I swear to god. This is setting the level of serious debate very low indeed.
So mother and I dutifully trotted over to the village hall to inspect the information exhibition that the developers have erected for our edification and delight, only to find a small riot mob gathering in the corner eyeing a nervous looking man in a suit.
What made me laugh about the purple-faced outrage of the locals was how many of my dear neighbours drove their Jaguars and 4X4s the several hundred metres from their over-heated houses to the village hall to poke sticks at the developers.
So why do I think the wind farm is a good thing?
This is my opinion:
- I think they look nice
- I think that global warming is a bigger threat to our environment than a bunch of wind turbines on the horizon
- I want my grandchildren to know that we at least tried to stop the destruction of our planet and that we cared enough to stand and be counted in our little community
- I hate NIMBYism
- I'd rather have a wind farm in my backyard than a nuclear power station (and don't think it couldn't happen, I bet the good folk of Sellafield thought it couldn't happen to them and now their houses glow in the dark)
- I believe renewable energy is the only solution for a self-sufficient power industry that frees us from the grip of oil cowboys like George Dubya
- I believe that in 25 years when the technology has developed these turbines will be taken down without leaving any lasting damage and our little village will continue just as it has done for the last nine hundred years.

Just a Frog, doing his bit for world peace

2005-09-28T16:19:00.000Z

Kermit is 50, still touring and he has aged better than the Rolling Stones. Read All About It

My New Arab Friend

2005-09-28T10:26:00.000Z

I have a new friend, whether I want one or not. I am generally of the opinion that one can never have too many friends but it is rather strange to have one forced upon me. It all started last month while I was taking a break from writing my dissertation, sitting in the library cafe minding my own business and doing the Guardian crossword. A middle-aged Arab came across and shoved a book in my face and said "please help me please what is this word?" Being a polite and usually helpful person I put aside what I was doing and spent the next fifteen minutes helping him with his English homework. Fahad explained that he didn't have anyone to speak English with and that I was like his sister and how very kind I was etc etc and please would I email him to help him with his English so I felt sorry for him and gave him my email address.

A couple of days later he emailed to say he was going back home to Saudi Arabia and he would like to bring me a present. I discussed this with J and my sister who suggested I should ask for some Arabic coffee as that is something traditional from his country and not an expensive gift. This struck me as a very good idea, a way of saying yes I'll be your friend. So on Sunday Fahad emailed to say he was back in town and could we meet up, I suggested Monday at the University Library again.

So we met again and I immediately felt a little awkward as he had obviously dressed up in a suit for the occassion and I was concerned that he considered this to be a date. I told him about my lovely husband pretty quickly and we had a polite but strained conversation (his English isn't strong) and we chatted a little about Saudi Arabia and studying and his job at home (he's a psychology lecturer, earning £4,000 a month). We talked for about an hour and then I had to leave to go to work and he pulled out a suitcase and started handing over all these gifts; two types of coffee and some sweets, a leather handbag, some expesnive perfume, two purses and then he went on to explain that he also has two watches for me but one of his suitcases was delayed. I was just overwhelmed. Hedley had told me that some countries have a culture of gift giving so I suppose I shouldn't have been suprised but I was, and I felt embarrassed and guilty.

I tried to explain that really it wasn't necessary but he insisted saying "everybody in my country is very rich" and I didn't know how to explain that that wasn't the point, I hadn't helped him because I expected to be rewarded, I did it because it was the right thing to do. I don't think I was very gracious but I accepted his presents and said I would meet him again for coffee next week sometime. I really don't mind helping him with his homework or being someone to talk English with but I hope there is nothing else on his agenda. Perhaps I am being unkind in assuming that he even has an agenda other than saying thank you to someone who helped him. Maybe I'm analysing this too much.

I tried to make the Arabic coffee this morning and it tastes like herbal Horlicks - maybe I'm not making it correctly. The coffee smells delicious but has a bitter malty taste. I might just brew it up for the smell from time to time. I looked up on the Internet how to brew coffee and found this useful piece of information:

"the ritual of coffee serving is still carried out with immense care, and is still a great gesture of welcoming in virtually any Arab home. At special occasions, or even just during visits from neighbors, coffee is very much a part of socializing. Upon finishing a cup of coffee, the guests usually return the kind gesture from their host by saying the following kind words: “fi sehtuk” ("to your health", said to a male, or "fi sehtik" said to a female), or “fil afrahh” ("to your happiness"). So, if you happen to be invited for a cup of coffee in an Arab home, it is wise to remember these kind words, and, more importantly, the meaning of coffee serving in Arab culture."

Poster Boy for the Catholic Church

2005-09-25T15:40:00.000Z

I hadn't heard about this man, Mychal Judge, until I read this article in the New York Times:

'The Rev. Mychal F. Judge, the Fire Department chaplain who died in the rubble of 9/11, was, and still is, one of the most widely loved Roman Catholic priests in New York City's recent history.

For 40 years, Father Judge tirelessly ministered to firefighters, their grieving widows, AIDS patients, homeless people, Flight 800 victims' families and countless others. At his funeral, Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani called him a saint, a sentiment that admirers have followed up by campaigning for his canonization. A simple prayer that Father Judge wrote has been circulated around the world and attached to thousands of donations to the needy. Pope John Paul II accepted the gift of his helmet.

Father Judge was also, according to many of his friends of all sexual orientations, a homosexual. A celibate homosexual, he told friends, but a homosexual nonetheless. And reports last week that the Vatican is likely to try to bar gay men, even celibate ones, from the priesthood stirred anger among those who revere his memory.'

Of course, the real question is why anyone should care about the sexual orientation of other people and it's certainly not just the Catholic church that gets its collective knickers in a knot about homosexuality. Anyway, go away and read this interesting article for yourself.

Three in One

2005-09-25T14:14:00.000Z

A quasi-religious title to make up for my being too drunken and slovenly to get out of bed in time to go to the Harvest Festival at church this morning - J, a paradigm of virtue and saintliness, was actually singing in the choir - I'm hoping to make it into Heaven by association with him rather than through any active devotion on my part.

No, my title refers to my top night out last night, which was actually three top nights out in one. We started at the pub with one friend, went on to see The Honest Johns at the Tyne theatre and then went on to another friend's 30th birthday party at the Telegraph. I was marginally trollied by the end of the night, pleasantly so rather than my usual steaming, bob-eyed drunk performance.

Party nights are like buses, you don't see one for ages and then three come along at once.

Scaredy Cats

2005-09-21T15:45:00.000Z

I would post you some pictures of our new cats if we ever saw them. So far they have spent five days behind the bookcase, under the setee or in their carrying case. We have boring cats. I hope they do something more fun soon or I shall lose interest entirely. George was cool and mischievious and gorgeous. Maybe it was too soon to get new cats.

New Arrivals

2005-09-17T08:40:00.000Z

Two additions to the household yesterday - we lasted two whole months without a cat after George died and then caved in and got two more. They are Siamese, of course - one seal point and one tortie point, brother and sister and they are four years old. They couldn't be more different from my Georgey though; where he was fearless and intrepid, they are scared and timid. I just had to drag Jack out from behind the toilet in Hedley's room and Daisy was in the cupboard, other than that they seem very sweet and they are so pretty. The dogs are very enthusiastic to meet them, but, as they've only had one home before and that was just their own family and humans, we thought it might be one cultural shock too far for them just yet. So Jack is now in bed and Daisy is under the bed with Hedley and we're taking things slowly.
J is underwhelmed by the entire event, which is not helped by the fever he has had since yesterday morning - the poor love hasn't been out of bed in almost a day.
I'll post photos of the new'uns as soon as they come out of hiding.

Making it to the Big Times

2005-09-14T14:35:00.000Z

'My' show reviewed in the New York Times - and they loved it, in fact, and I quote 'The result is a sweeping fisheye view of photography's history, extending and receding in unexpected ways. I love every bit of it' (Read the rest of the review here

There is nothing like a major national newspaper giving your show a good review to really boost the spirits. I know the article was published in July, but I only just got sent the clipping. Better late reflected glory than no reflected glory at all. WooHoo!

The Persistent, Wrongheaded Idea

2005-09-12T23:06:00.000Z

'The show reveals some chilling cultural trends: the devaluing of art as a proper response to 9/11, and the persistent, wrongheaded idea that to question the government is to dishonor the memory of those who died.' New York Times September 12th 2005 Read the rest of that article here

Footloose and Fancy Free

2005-09-12T08:54:00.000Z

but feeling stray and anxious.

This weekend we held the Heritage Open Days at the house (Read about HODS here) which was fun. Although we didn't get a huge number of people visiting, those that did come were very interesting: a lady from the Society of Antiquarians who is cataloguing John Hodgson's letters (he was first historian of Northumberland, attributed the Roman Wall to Emperor Hadrian and did other good deeds in the spirit of the Enlightenment and he lived here whilst doing them), a chap who has written two books on castles in England and Wales and is now writing one on Scotland, and various others who were interested in local history. I enjoyed writing the guide and think it looks quite good, if I say so myself.

Now, though, I'm at a loose end. I still have my airport job, of course, but now I have to find a proper job. So I suppose I'm now a full time job hunter with nothing certain to look forward to but Christmas.

Actually, we're going to a couple of weddings in October, one of which is in London, so that's something to look forward to I suppose. I just don't like uncertainty, good or bad, I'd rather be able to make plans and know what is going to happen. Control freak? Me? Well, maybe.

Join the Dots

2005-09-12T08:43:00.000Z

An interesting quote from Saturday's Guardian newspaper, Page 2.

'Mr Brown was hired as Fema's deputy director in 2001 by an old college friend, Joe Allbaugh, who ran the agency until 2003. Mr Allbaugh, Mr Bush's former campaign manager, was himself hired earlier this year by Haliburton, vice president Dick Cheney's former company, to provide advice on disaster relief. Haliburton has been awarded the first big reconstruction contracts in the wake of the storm.'

Something stinks and it isn't just the fetid mud, putrid water and rotting bodies.

The world has your number Mr Bush

2005-09-04T19:31:00.000Z

A selection of world reactions to the crisis in New Orleans, I particularly thought the Iranian comment was insightful.
I think George W. should be made to live in the Superdome for a week without food or water. A week of sitting in his own shit and scavenging for survival would do him good.

17,518words and eight pictures

2005-09-02T19:48:00.000Z

It's done, it's printed, it's handed in.

Because Goonies Never Say Die!

Just don't tell me that it's over

2005-08-30T11:38:00.000Z

I have nearly, nearly, finished my dissertation. I have all the right words, just not necessarily in the right order, to paraphrase Morecombe and Wise.

It's really quite physically and emotionally draining, this writing lark. I think I'll need to sleep for a week when it's over. Of course I can't because, typically, I've arranged for us to take part in the Heritage Open Days so I'll be spending next week cleaning like a maniac and trying to work out something intelligent to say to people. Like everything I do, it seemed like a good idea at the time. That's the story of my bloody life.

And tomorrow is the last night out with The Girls, before they jet off to their far away homes. It's the end of an era. I just wish they were going next week at least, then I could actually concentrate on saying goodbye, instead of keeping one eye on the clock so that I can get up early and keep on with the dissertation. It's been like climbing a mountain and I think I'm nearly at the top now. Then I just have to work out how to get down again.

Plan B

2005-08-27T14:21:00.000Z

I didn't get the AHRB funding to do a PhD but all is not lost. My tutor has suggested that I defer my placement to next year and re-apply for funding, in the meantime publishing my dissertation, which will impress the panel so much they will be bound to send me a large cheque. I'm flattered by her confidence in me and in my dissertation, which hasn't actually read yet. I think I have nothing to lose.

It does, however, mean that I need to find a 'proper' job asap.

Whoo-Hoo!

2005-08-24T12:49:00.000Z

The Season is saved. God Bless Michael Owen, even if we were only second best to Liverpool.

In A Nutshell

2005-08-23T11:37:00.000Z

What is wrong with America?

I think it is all embodied in this one man, Pat Robertson, come on down. Now if ever there was a case for a doctrine of assassination then I think Pat should be first on the list. Interesting to note, as well, that communism and Islam are now conflated in the warped minds of the evangelical right in America. Perhaps they just all come under the heading 'foreign', or at least Un-American, and therefore are to be hated and mistrusted.

I particularly enjoyed the line: 'He has also said that feminism encourages women to ''kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians.''- Yep, bang on the money there Pat.

Ladies United for the Preservation of Endangered Cocktails

2005-08-23T11:07:00.000Z

Dismantling the patriarchy one drink at a time Here

Loathing and self-doubt

2005-08-20T22:53:00.000Z

have settled in to stay.

My essay plan has disintegrated, I keep finding holes in my own arguments, I've hit a brick wall and I have less than two weeks to finish this shit. And, some of my favourite people leave town next week to go back to unfeasibly far away places that will take a lot of planning to visit, I hate my crappy job at the airport despite being unaccountably good at it, I still haven't heard from AHRB whether they'll pay me to do a PhD, I've left it far too late to get a decent job (assuming I'm at all employable now) before my career crippling, I mean 'career development' loan kicks in...I'm screwed.

I'm sure tomorrow will be brighter. It is, afterall, my day off.

Random Acts of Kindness Part III

2005-08-15T20:24:00.000Z

This might be becoming an obsession but I can't help noticing how really nice some people are.

My aunt sent me an email the other day about her elderly dog, Pumpkin, which she adores and was bought twelve years ago as a friend and 'comfort dog' when my uncle died suddenly. This dog is a very big part of my aunt's life and consequently all signs of her increasing old age and infirmity are cause for much heartache for my aunt, who is a lovely woman and her sadness is our sadness, even if I don't care too much for Cavalier King Charles spaniels as a rule. No matter, she is the light of my aunt's life and when she had to take her to the vet with a neck problem my aunt was beside herself with worry.
I tend to believe in the adage that what goes around comes around and so, as my aunt is a sweet lady who does a lot of good things for other people, I suppose i shouldn't have been too surprised when she wrote:

'Pumpkin has not been doing well. I am glad you got to see her as she was because lately she has not been able to get up. Two weeks ago I took her to a neorologist who said he thought that she had something wrong with her neck. He put her on medication to get the swelling down. You won't believe it but yesterday I took her to my chiropractor:-) I had told him about taking her to he hospital for visits and he was very inpressed that we would give up our time. As a courtesy he said to bring her in....so yesterday morning I did! I put her on the table in the back room. Dr. Len came in and proceeeded to go up her spine looking for the problem. He found some minor ones in the lower back ( and corrected them) and a major one in the neck! When he "hit" her with his instrument, she stood right up:-) I couldn't believe it and I don't think that he could either!She is better but I need to take her back tomorrow! I never thought that I would be going to a chiropractor ...say nothing about taking my dog!'

I also read in today's Guardian about a man who phoned the police because his young daughter had dropped her soft toy out of the car window on the motorway. Now, I'm as soft hearted as the next person but even I would have said "tough-bumps, tell your daughter she has just learnt an important lesson about life" and hang up, but the police actually set up a rolling road-block to collect said toy from the central reservation of one of the busiest motorways in the country and sent it back to the child. You see, even your average British bobby is as soft as shite when it comes to small children and toys.

Don't it make you all warm and fuzzy inside.

Possibly as a consequence of all this love going around I did yet another good deed today. I know, where will it all end.

I helped a woman with chronic vertigo get up to the second floor of the airport where the departure lounges are. Not exactly a great deal of effort on my part but I know she was very glad I helped. I had been trying to pitch to her but she was so stressed out by the prospect of getting in an aircraft (I dare say yesterday's crash didn't help her nerves) that she just couldn't concentrate. later, I saw her standing at the bottom of the escalators for about fifteen minutes trying to get up the courage to go up them, failed and came back to me to ask if there was another way too get to the 2nd floor. I pointed out the lifts and she looked like she was going to cry. I saw her standing in front of the lifts, waiting for someone else to go up so she could go with them, she stood there for about ten more minutes, until I gave in and offered to travel up in the lift with her. She was so grateful, we chatted about how to pretend you're on a train when you don't like flying and we were on the next floor before she knew the doors had shut. I would never belittle people's phobias, I have enough of my own that are a daily embarrassment to me without trivialising them, so I was glad to help.

Routine

2005-08-15T20:12:00.000Z

Get up, get out of bed, drag a comb across my head.

08:55: Wait for library to open

09:00: start writing 1,000 clever words in Word Doc. titled My Dissertation_02.doc

12:30: treat myself to checking my emails and looking at frivolous internet stuff

13:00: give in to hunger and go to library cafe for a hummous sandwich an a bottle of milk and Guardian newspaper (20p for students). Do quick crossword and eat food.

13:30: catch Metro to Airport

14:00: Would you like to win a car?

20:00: haul my sore feet into the car and go home

20:30: pour wine to self medicate until I can no longer feel sore feet.

And we are now listening to

2005-08-13T23:02:00.000Z

Madeleine Peyroux

So now you know what the cool girls are listening to.

Other Tales of Kindness

2005-08-13T22:23:00.000Z

Ally the Canadian wrote:

When we finally made it to Norway on board the Helena Cristina (thank god we made it there in one piece having lost several boat necessities during that hellish storm), we were greeted by one of the nicest LO's around!
She was wonderful and took SUCH great care of our all-female crew (except for the captain, but he was loving it!). Camilla walked us everywhere, participated in everything and was on-call 24 hours a day (they HAD to be!!)...

When it finally came time for us to part ways, she walked me to the trainstation and even translated for me! I was on my way to Oslo for the night and right before I stepped onto the train, she gave me her phone number, just in case. I gave her a chuckle, saying that I was only going to be there in my posh hotel (with my very own shower!!) for one night, then was
catching my flight the next day. Regardless, she put the piece of paper in my hand and sent me on my way.

Now comes the good part. After going to the wrong airport (yes, it does happen in real life), I was absolutely inconsolable. I called Camilla, who then made several calls and arranged for her niece (my age) to come and pick me up after her father's play (he's a hot shot director) was done. They came to the train station, loaded me into their van and drove me back to their apartment (gorgeous!). While they had to "clean up" the place (probably just a fancy way of saying "hide all valuables"), they
sent me out for a walk with the dog (who was coincidentally from the same part of the world as me)! When I got back, they had dinner waiting and Rosa and I ended up talking for hours (she had spent her last year of school abroad in Ottawa)!! After that, she went to a birthday gathering and set me up with a stack of girly movies to watch. I managed to get through "Grease", "Chocolat" and half of "Titanic" before retiring to my matress on their dining room floor!

In the morning, Morten, Rosa and I prepared a big breakfast and sat out on their balcony. That was when they asked "so, how well do you know Camilla", at which I had to truthfully reply "hardly at all"! haha, it was a classic moment! Anyway, so they drove me to the bus station, I said "goodbye" to them and the big red dog that had been laying across all of us,and hopped onto the bus. About 30seconds into the bus trip, I heard the unmistakable Geordie accent... in Norway!! I turned around and who was sitting behind me but my drinking buddy from the Bessie Ellen... Karen!! We gossiped the whole way to Oslo Torp and took the plane together back to Glasgow! Freaking hilarious!

Anyway, after reading your "act of kindness" story, I couldn't help but share that one!

Willy Wonka

2005-08-10T21:41:00.000Z

I loved it even more than the original. And Here you can sing along with the songs. You see how much I love you.

My Good Deed for the Day

2005-08-10T13:47:00.000Z

Despite bitching repeatedly about how crap my airport job is, there are some aspects I quite enjoy. Not the standing around for hours trying to elicite bank details from perfect strangers, although I enjoy the challenge on the occassions when I'm successful (I learnt today that the new term for what I do is 'chugger' - charity mugger - I prefer Charity Support Interface Facilitator, which is a term I just made up). No, what I really enjoy is people watching. If you are interested in people, that's a euphemism for being nosey, then really the airport is the place to be. All human life is there, not to mention some lifeforms that may only pass for human on a genetic level. I've seen all manner of human dramas; tearful farewells, ecstatic reunions, stand-up family shouting matches, adulterers, drunks, nutters, lovers, transvestites, a woman with three-inch-long fluorescent fingernails and a man being arrested by the police. Not all on one day, you understand, but often enough to pass the time.

Occassionally we on the car stand are included in the mini-dramas. Like yesterday, one of the security guards asked me if we had a tool kit in the show car because there were two German lads who had just arrived for a cycling holiday and one of their bags had gone astray containing the tools they needed to reassemble their bikes, plus sleeping bags and a tent. The bag was not due to arrive until the next day so they were stranded at the airport, having no forwarding address for the bag and in any case needing the contents to start their holiday. The airport maintenance crew found a suitable socket set and soon the bikes were assembled but they still weren't able to leave the airport because they had no tent to sleep in and had to wait for the bag to arrive.

Well, I watched these two sitting on the chairs opposite me for about five hours; they ate their sandwiches from home, took turns to wait by their bikes while the other read through the contents of WHSmiths and generally mooched about looking very sorry they'd come here at all. I have already spent enough time at Newcastle airport to last me a life time and frankly I'd rather stick myself with pins than be trapped under the relentless lights in crippling upright chairs for 24hours at one go and I just couldn't bear the thought of these two having planned this holiday for their school break only to spend the first two days stuck at the airport, it was just all more than I could stand. So I invited them home with me.

I was quite surprised they accepted actually, clearly their mothers had never warned them about going off with strangers, even strange (and foreign) women, but they actually looked quite relieved and grateful. J was picking me up from the airport and bringing Amy with him so it was a snug fit in our little car with an extra two plus their bags. I'd called ahead to clear with mother that there'd be two more for dinner and could she make up two extra beds - I reminded her that it was exactly what she would have done too if she'd seen them sat there instead of me and she agreed that she would have, so clearly it's an inherited soft-heartedness. It might have been my offer but actually it was mother and Hedley that did all the hard work as they got one of the bedrooms cleared, tidied and made up by the time we got back and had set the table for dinner - what troopers.

We had a very pleasant dinner together, all seven of us, chatted and found out all the places we have in common and discussed cycle routes around England and then this morning, after the compulsory tour of the village, we went off to work, leaving them for mother to give them a tour of the wider area before dropping them back at the airport by noon. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling that they had at least had something like a good start to their holiday here, even if it wasn't quite what they had expected it to be, as Fabian said, ' no risk, no fun'. I think I agree.
J was just very amused that I don't seem to be able to resist picking up Germans at public transport interchanges, although I hardly think twice counts as having a habit. Just a weakness I suppose.

Marianne has a new job

2005-08-08T19:41:00.000Z

A new, well paid job

Marianne still finds time to send me this during her working hours. Working hard then, Mazza?

I'm jealous.

My only question is, how much will she pay me not to snitch to her boss?

Three Groovy Chicks 'Do' Edinburgh

2005-08-08T09:07:00.000Z

Something else that is becoming part of our Edinburgh Festival tradition, is meeting up with Imo and Mary and 'Magic' Stephen.
A good tradition, long may it continue. Although, sadly, no visit to the Whisky Society rooms this time.

In other news, today is my first day back at work at the airport since losing my voice last week. The head cold I had last weekend lingered and after two days at work shouting 'do you want to win a car?' at people my voice started to fade and then going out to the pub on wednesday night to say good bye to Mary C meant that by Thursday morning my voice gave out completely. Silence does not come naturally to me and so I was extremely irritated by the whole thing. J was, as he always is, very concerned and protective of me and tried to stop me talking (I am certain this was from concern for my health and not just to shut me up) but frankly, King Canut had more luck turning the tide. Anyway, something resembling my voice has now returned and I can't avoid going back to my great job at the airport.

Would you like to win a car?

How to Avoid Work Pt.I

2005-08-08T08:40:00.000Z

In a bid to avoid having to do any dissertation work, J and Heds and I drove up to the Edinburgh Festival yesterday.

We saw:

Mini-Break - A very funny but quite sad short play, the cast are outstanding though, and we all agreed that the lead actor looked a little bit like Adam Sandler, although we didn't hold that against him.

Dan Tetsell's 'Sins of the Grandfather' - An occassionally funny, not really stand up comedy, show about his grandfather's Nazi past. Too many old gags and not enough about the British obsession about WWII, surely a much richer seam of comic potential than joking about Hitler having only one ball, for my liking, at any rate. It was very interesting though I felt it missed it's chance to be really brilliant. It didn't help that Dan Tetsell reminded me of a cross between Ronnie Corbett and my old boss Paul, he couldn't help that, I suppose, but it didn't work in his favour.

Omar Marzouk - a truly funny stand up comedian from Egypt via Copenhagen. This is what stand up comedy should be; pesonal, political, charming, insightful and actually very funny. Ok, it helped that he was also quite cute, but honestly, he is also good at his job.

Then we rushed over to end the evening with Kiki and Herb - it's becoming a bit of a tradition for us to end our Edinburgh Festival days with a female impersonator and by God they seem to give it their all, what Kiki lacks in tunefullness she makes up for in high-kicking and pathos. So we left as we arrived, with a show that was very funny but really quite sad, if you see what I mean.

Banksy: Doing what artists should do

2005-08-05T15:22:00.000Z

See what that little rascal has been up to this time. Banksy Does Israel

So Long Mary C

2005-08-04T08:28:00.000Z

Have a good flight home.

Pizza and Champagne

2005-08-03T08:57:00.000Z

That's just the classy kinda couple we are. Some people go to fancy restaurants or give lavish presents on their wedding anniversary, but not us.

We bought a takeaway pizza and a bottle of champagne and drove to Tynemouth where we sat overlooking the harbour walls with the priory above us and watched the sunset, pillars of rainbows spring up from the horizon and seagulls wheel about. It was very romantic since you ask.

I have now completely lost my voice. I'm still suffering the remains of a cold that meant I spent most of the weekend in bed despite having Marianne to stay for the first time in almost a year. It has been suggested, cruelly I thought, that losing my voice is the best wedding anniversary present I could give my husband. He was too tactful to comment.

Race Results for Newcastle to Fredrikstadt

2005-08-03T08:47:00.000Z

Vessel Name - Pos. OA - Position Class - Class
CHRISTIAN RADICH - 1 - 1 - A - 58.10N 08.41E 08/01/2005-15:00:00
STINA MARI - 2 - 1 - B - 57.45N 07.28E 08/01/2005-15:30:00
MIR 3 2 A 58.49N 10.29E
08/01/2005-15:00:00
DAR SZCZECINA 4 1 C 58.28N 09.35E
08/01/2005-15:45:00
SPIRIT OF JUNO 5 1 D Finished
08/01/2005-11:20:35
JOLIE BRISE 6 2 B 57.42N 06.54E
08/01/2005-15:30:00
TORNADO 7 2 C Finished
08/01/2005-15:26:11
DAR MLODZIEZY 8 3 A 58.05N 09.02E
08/01/2005-15:00:00
TENACIOUS 9 4 A 57.39N 06.59E
08/01/2005-15:00:00
SPANIEL 10 3 C Finished
08/01/2005-14:02:33
EUROPA 11 5 A 57.39N 06.16E
08/01/2005-15:00:00
SORLANDET 12 6 A 57.34N 06.47E
08/01/2005-15:00:00
EENDRACHT 13 7 A 58.11N 09.12E
08/01/2005-15:00:00
ST BARBARA V 14 2 D 58.19N 09.26E
08/01/2005-16:00:00
WINDROSE 15 8 A Finished
31/07/2005-08:51:46
OCEAN SPIRIT OF MORAY 16 4 C 58.43N 10.04E
08/01/2005-15:45:00
LIETUVA 17 3 D Finished
08/01/2005-15:03:00
HARTLEPOOL RENAISSANCE 18 5 C 58.11N 09.13E
08/01/2005-15:45:00
FLORA 19 4 D 58.13N 09.09E
08/01/2005-16:00:00
SAGRES 20 9 A 57.42N 06.37E
08/01/2005-15:00:00
FEELINGS 21 5 D 58.09N 08.24E
08/01/2005-16:00:00
RUPEL 22 3 B 57.37N 06.06E
08/01/2005-15:30:00
SHABAB OMAN 23 10 A 57.36N 06.12E
08/01/2005-15:00:00
HETMAN 24 6 D 58.10N 08.28E
08/01/2005-16:00:00
WHISPA 25 7 D 58.31N 09.27E
08/01/2005-16:00:00
LUA DOS 26 8 D 58.30N 09.40E
08/01/2005-16:00:00
POGORIA 27 11 A 57.37N 06.50E
08/01/2005-15:00:00
JOHN LAING 28 6 C 58.10N 08.27E
08/01/2005-15:45:00
ESPRIT 29 7 C 58.24N 09.15E
08/01/2005-15:45:00
CONCORDIA 30 4 B 57.15N 04.59E
08/01/2005-15:30:00
KUKRI 31 9 D 58.29N 09.50E
08/01/2005-16:00:00
OCEAN SCOUT 32 8 C 57.45N 06.57E
08/01/2005-15:45:00
GEDANIA 33 9 C 57.43N 06.29E
08/01/2005-15:45:00
MERKURY 34 10 C 57.31N 06.30E
08/01/2005-15:45:00
ANNE MARGARETHA 35 10 D 57.55N 06.50E
08/01/2005-16:00:00
JENS KROGH 36 5 B 56.56N 02.50E
08/01/2005-15:30:00
TARANGINI 37 12 A 55.25N 05.33E
08/01/2005-15:00:00
ALBA VENTURER C No Report
MERCEDES A Retired
MANDALAY B Retired
ALBATROSS D Retired
SWAN B Retired
ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT A Retired
EYE OF THE WIND A Retired
EXCELSIOR B Retired
EXCALIBUR D Retired
VILLA MARE D Retired
VICTOR JARA B Retired
BESSIE ELLEN B Retired
DUET B Retired
DEWARUCI A Retired
DE GALLANT B Retired
ANTWERP FLYER C Retired
AURORA OF LONDON D Retired
BELLE POULE B Retired
WILLIWAW C Retired
CHALLENGE D Retired
BLACK DIAMOND OF DURHAM C Retired
TORDENSKJOLD B Retired
ASGARD II A Retired
SHTANDART A Retired
KVITUREN B Retired
KRUZENSHTERN A Retired
KAPITAN GLOWACKI A Retired
KALIAKRA A Retired
JUAN DE LANGARA C Retired
SIBERIA D Retired
JEAN DE LA LUNE A Retired
JAMES COOK C Retired
ICE MAIDEN C Retired
HELENA CRISTINA C Retired
SMIALY C Retired
GROSSHERZOGIN ELISABETH A Retired
MOOSK B Retired
QUEEN GALADRIEL B Retired
MIRCEA A Retired
MORNING STAR OF REVELATION B Retired
LORD RANK C Retired
SOFIA D No Report
OFFSHORE SCOUT C No Report
FRITHJOF II B Retired
PRINCE WILLIAM A Retired
ATENE B Retired
REGINA GERMANIA C Did Not Start
ROALD AMUNDSEN A Did Not Start
AGLAIA B Retired
SMUGA CIENIA C Did Not Start
WYVERN B Retired
SPIRIT OF ISIS D Did Not Start
PRIDE OF BALTIMORE II B Retired

Spaniel Forever

2005-08-01T19:09:00.000Z

Bragging or Complaining

2005-07-29T10:58:00.000Z

I've been so tired for so long now that it's starting to feel a bit trippy, like I'm permanently stoned. Not necessarily unpleasant but not very good if you're trying to get stuff done. Like a dissertation for example.

My crazy Latvians left yesterday morning through a light drizzle down the Tyne and off to Norway. We had a lot of fun together and they were so lovely and friendly that I think J and I may have to visit Latvia some time on our travels. You can see more about them and their yacht, probably the world's largest Spaniel, as they loved to tell me, Here

As soon as they had gone I went back to bed for a nap, got dressed and went up to Edinburgh for the afternoon and met up with Little Imo. It was great to see her and spend some time together catching up. I got back late last night and this afternoon Marianne arrives, hopefully I'll see Carla tomorrow, so I'm slowly catching up to speed with my friends,

Back to the airport on Monday and then it will really feel like I've never been away.

What's Latvian for 'I can't feel my toes'?

2005-07-25T23:00:00.000Z

I have just finished my first day as LO for the Latvian sloop 'Spaniel' and I am numb from the neck down. A combination of running the length of the quayside half a dozen times and drinking large glasses of neat Lithuanian vodka (I learnt two words of Latvian today, 'Tilts', which means 'Bridge' and 'Brieka' which means 'Cheers'). My crew are fabulous, a few of them were LOs a couple of years ago when the Tall Ships went to Riga, so they were very relaxed and informal, indeed some had already begun drinking when I arrived at about 09:30am.
I found them showers (blagged them into the Baltic Art Centre to use their staff showers when the nearest official ones where closed, which got me big credits from my crew) and I got them successfully signed up for the bus tour of Durham and got them onto the bus on time with one extra person sneaking in at the last minute (more credibility from my crew) and in between found internet access, hip-hop/RnB nightclubs info, money exchange information as well. I finally stopped running about at 2:30 and the remaining crew (one Latvian and two Lithuanians and a large bottle of vodka) made me a cup of tea and insisted (yes, really insisted, I would have rather just had the tea) that I drink a large glass of neat vodka down in one. Udo saw how stressed and tired I was and said, 'just tell them to fuck off and drink vodka with us instead'. Not wishing to create an international incident I drank the vodka. After the first glass all subsequent glasses tasted as smooth as water.
I showed two of the youngest crew members, the most gorgeous girls about 18years old, white blonde hair and sleek natural tans, where the nearest nightclubs and shops and bars are, which was all they are interested in. To my single (or otherwise) male friends in the area, I will introduce you to them for a small 'finders fee'.
But really, I have walked, and occassionally run, miles today, literally. I'm sure tomorrow will not, could not, be as much of a chaotic, half-arsed, balls-up as today's lack of organisation was, thanks to the inept organisation and communication that we have, which involves me running miles for every piece of information. Certainly I'm not going to spend the whole day running like I did today, I think I'll just sit on the boat and watch the world go by. That was what made it all worthwhile today, sitting there on deck with a glass of vodka, talking with three men I'd never met until two hours earlier, drinking, laughing and talking like old friends, and seeing half of Tyneside cramming their way past above us.

Sticks and Strings and Bits of Curtain

2005-07-22T15:13:00.000Z

As Bob would say.

Yes, the Tall Ships Race is in town, well on the river to be pedantic and I'm a Liaison Officer, Dib-Dib! My ship hasn't actually arrived yet, of course, but some of the other ships have, including Hedley's Dutch friend Charlotte onboard Eye of the Wind.

Last night was also the grand reception for Joachim's refugee art project on the quayside, 80 brightly coloured signalling pennants flying from the lovely-lovely flat for all to see. They look really good and I think the Sudanese children that came to the reception last night were quite proud of their efforts. The other refugee groups will be coming along during the week to see their flags and to go onboard some of the ships too.

Hedley stayed overnight and went off sailing this morning. I'll be back in tomorrow morning for our final briefing before the majority of the ships start to arrive. My ship is a little Latvian sloop called Spaniel, should be fun. If you come down to see the ships then stop by and say hello.

Dissertation update: I did actually start doing some reading this week, in the library and everything! I'll be too busy for the next week to do anything further really and then I'll have to work like mad.

Wendi Rocks Boston

2005-07-18T22:46:00.000Z

If you are likely to be in Boston in August then check out my friend Wendi on the 27th when she's playing at Jacques Underground - 'New England's best venue for alternative music', which is downstairs from and not to be confused with Jacques Cabaret, 'New England's best bar for female impersonation entertainment' - although that also looks fab and I see is recommended by Modern Bride magazine.

I love the 'Wendi Whitsett and guests' - sounds like one of those cheesey Saturday night TV cabarets. Should be fantastic anyway.

Also coming up, while we're on the topic, is the forthcoming gig by another showbiz pal of mine, Mark, who I see will be playing at the Tyne Theatre on September 24th.

In other news

2005-07-17T19:37:00.000Z

Keep your eyes peeled for my sister showing more of herself than usual/advisable as part of Spencer Tunick's latest piece in Newcastle. What is it with us Wells Women and public displays of nudity in the name of Art? It must be in the blood, or maybe the papers?

---NEWS-FLASH---

I just saw my sister naked on national TV! Whoo-Hoo! Go Hedley! That was really cool, I'd be jealous except that it also looked really uncomfortable. Watch BBC3 for repeats.

Blind Madmen Eating Dinner

2005-07-17T18:11:00.000Z

and other stories.

We just got back from Germany this afternoon, which explains my blogging absence. No sooner had we gotten back from the States then we flew out to Cologne to see family and then drove on to Berlin so I could interview memorial museum curators for my dissertation. As Carla put it, 'you'll catch yourself coming back', which is quite right. There's just so much to tell that I don't know where to begin.

In Germany we went here

and here

and here

and here

and here

and here

In the USA we should maybe pick up where we left off. Joachim arrived at New York and we hired a car to head down to Philadelphia (I recommend the Nodding Head Brewery on Sansom Street for an atmospheric, friendly and excellent value dinner and they brew their own beer), then on to Washington DC where we met my long-lost cousin and her gorgeous one-year-old son.

The other highlight of our time in DC was the staff tour of the Capitol building, arranged for us by the wonderful Marys, that's Mary Christ Jnr and Mary Christ Snr., who works for a Republican House Representative, Christopher Cox and who had the adorable Michael-the-Intern guide us so charmingly through the Halls of Power. Joachim almost made it through the whole adventure without mentioning the war, but not quite. He mentioned it once, but I think he got away with it.

Of course there were museums, many museums, too many to mention perhaps, but I particularly enjoyed the new National Museum of the American Indian (great museum, terrible name) and thought that the National Museum of American History needs a good shaking.

Then we drove back to Connecticut, saw the aunts, drove on to Mystic Seaport Museum, which I enjoyed enormously, then on again to my young, gifted and beautiful cousin, Heather and her wonderful boyfriend in Massachusetts. We spent July 4th with them, went to Providence, Rhode Island, where Heather graduated from the School of Design, saw a really good but depressing film, Crash and then went to watch the fireworks at a local sportsfield, complete with large screen photos of soldiers holding puppies and a woman in distressed jeans and a boob-tube singing the national anthem.

Then on to Boston for lunch here with an old friend, Wendi, and a tour around the MFA and then back to the aunts to pack and say our goodbyes.

I think the most important thing I got from my trip, apart from the school credits for my internship, was the time I got to spend with my 'other' family; I always knew they were wonderful, talented, interesting people and now I can really say that I know them as well as being related to them.

And we're back and I have some serious work to do, I need to make some money and write a dissertation and see some friends and have a summer. All without my cat.

George

2005-07-17T17:32:00.000Z

George2.JPG, originally uploaded by mgreiling.

No more references to my cat.

George looking for things to play with

2005-07-17T17:31:00.000Z

MollyandGeorge2.JPG, originally uploaded by mgreiling.

George

2005-07-17T17:26:00.000Z

GeorgeandIsh.jpg, originally uploaded by mgreiling.

Georgeplaying.JPG

2005-07-17T17:23:00.000Z

Georgeplaying.JPG, originally uploaded by mgreiling.

My gorgeous George playing in the garden last weekend. He was killed by a car on Wednesday night. I miss my cat.

Gosh, a whole week gone by

2005-07-07T21:30:00.000Z

Home again and it's like nothing has changed except plants have grown and flowered and Georgey isn't speaking to me.

Any spontaneous joy at being home was over-shadowed by the terrible news in London. I just missed any potential bomb-related nastiness. It's heart-breaking to see it.

I'll tell you about the Greek sleaze on the 'plane another time. And my other stories, just buy me a whisky first.

Hello from Washington DC

2005-06-30T13:55:00.000Z

Another whirlwind week and I've been able to tick-off another eight States, I think that's almost all of the top right hand corner done now.

I had my last day at the Bruce Museum on Friday, Nancy took me out for a long boozy lunch on the Avenue and we said our goodbyes. Just as tears were welling in my eyes, The Aunts appeared to take me on a picnic cruise around the islands off the Greenwich coast, so I promptly forgot all about the Bruce and enjoyed myself. I got Aunty a chocolate mousse cake from St Moritz, decorated with 'Happy birthday Cindy' on it and we ate that as we sailed about.

Sunday, Aunty and I went to see the sculpture park at the Pepsi world headquarters. We decided that all the money my uncle must have spent on their drink over the years they probably own one or two of their pieces by now. It is a very pretty park and they have some nice work so it was perfect for an extremely hot afternoon stroll. We also called in at the Neuberger Museum of art, over the road at SUNY, they too have a couple of things worth seeing so if you're ever in the neighbourhood, call in.

Sunday the aunts and I drove up to the family farm in upstate CT, it dates from the mid-18th century and has that colonial charm. My second cousins live there now and are the tenth generation of our family to do so. For me, the highlight though was to go up to the attic and see all of my dad's paintings there. Dad's aunt had agreed to look after these paintings for him in the 1970's and they've been in their attic ever since. They were covered in dirt and bird shit but look great to me. My cousin said I could take whatever I wanted so I did. God knows how they will get home but I'll worry about that later, it's just great to have them back.

Then Aunty and I carried on up to Maine and spent the whole of Monday exploring Portland, a great little city with a fantastic art museum. In the evening we followed the coast south again, stopping to photograph lighthouses on the way and had dinner at a little place called Wells.

We drove on through the night and got home very late. Tuesday J arrived. Finally! Hooray!

J and I have hired a car and we (he) drove straight on to Philadelphia, where we spent a very happy 24hours and did the patriotic stuff, looked at the bell and pretended to be impressed that they have buildings more than two-hundred years old, whooo! Our house is almost eight-hundred years old, so there. I do like Philadelphia though and I hope we can go back when we have time to visit the art museum.

We drove on, yesterday, to Washington DC, following my Mapquest directions. The trouble with mapquest is that if you miss a turning then you're completely helpless. As we discovered, in rush-hour, grid-locked DC traffic only a mile or so from the bloody hotel. We made it, eventually, on our instincts and wits alone.

Last night we had dinner with my cousin, her adorable baby son and her aunt. Today, who knows what will happen, but I'll bet it will include a museum or two.

Likes and Dislikes

2005-06-23T20:30:00.000Z

Likes: open-air theatre by the sea on a warm evening with a nice glass of cava, a picnic and fire-flies buzzing about.

Dislikes: Having to write my end of internship report, or "What I did in my summer non-holidays" - I'm procrastinating big-time.

Likes: Banana Republic sale, they were practically giving the stuff away for free, it would have been rude not to take it.

Dislikes: US Postal Dis-service, don't get me started on my lunch-hour trip to the post office on Greenwich Avenue. At least they tried to be helpful but my patience was beyond tested by the fourth time I had to return to the window to try to pay the postage; first fill out this tax form, then put it in that envelope, then put it in this envelope, then take out all contents and put half of it in this teeny-tiny envelope before storming out to release some pent up anger onto my credit card. See above.

Like: the fancy pants restaurant we had dinner at last night for aunty's birthday; a place called Pasta Nostra in South Norwalk, or SoNo as it likes to call itself in a hilarious piece of pretension. Aunty and I loved it, Uncle not so much as they don't serve Diet Pepsi (all he will drink) and it was very expensive (and he was paying, ha).

Dislike: tip-toeing through the rotten, dismembered carcasses of pigeons under the railroad bridge in Greenwich. Why does somewhere as posh as Greenwich not have people to sweep up these disgusting things? They can employ people to vacuum leaves up, then surely this is far more noxious and unpleasant. And what the hell is causing the pigeons to be not just dead but ripped open? There must be at least four or five of them scattered about under there and it's vile. Very strange.

Right. I really must stop faffing about and get on with this thing.

The End is Nigh

2005-06-21T18:32:00.000Z

Only three more days at the museum.

Only seven days until J arrives.

It has simply flown by. I have still got so much work to do though that I can't even begin to think about getting home. I have to write up my report for my placement and the stupid work log thingy. And then I have to start thinking of some intelligent questions to ask the curators in Berlin the week after we get back from the States. Gah.

This weekend was another personal best for me, six museums in two days. Friday night was a gallery opening at the Silvermine Arts Centre (which would be a good model for the Old Chapel I think, maybe we can get Mum over to visit it as a working trip?) followed by a supper at the Silvermine Tavern with the Aunts.

Saturday I escaped on my own to the big city and did a mad museu whirl through the Whitney Museum of American Art (lots of Hoppers), the Frick and MOMA (more Hoppers and the rest). It was really great to get out and explore a bit on my own too. My aunts are lovely but they were not built for speed and they would never have made it around all of them in one day. We met up later for dinner but it was better to be on my own.

Sunday, one Aunty and I headed north to the Hill-Stead Museum, a country home of more rich industrialists and their art collection. Then onto the State capitol, Hartford, and the Wadsworth Athenaeum a great collection but probably the most confusing layout of any museum ever, very irritating. Signage people, signage - don't they teach you anything about signage in this country? We can't be expected to guess where you are, let alone your complicated layout. Still, the paintings are fabulous.

I managed to catch up with Marina, my Russian friend, on Thursday night. We met just as the heat wave broke with an almighty thunderstorm over Manhattan, we got completely soaked but it didn't matter in the least, we were so busy talking we hardly noticed. It's good to see old friends.

Tonight the cultural tour of CT continues, the Aunts are taking me to Shakespeare on the Sound, an outdoor theatre thing of the Tempest. The weather, currently, is beautiful, lets hope it stays that way. I'm glad it's not A Midsummer Night's Dream, I've seen that so many times, although I guess it would be more appropriate given today's date.

Tomorrow is Aunty's birthday so we'll be going out again. I don't think I can maintain this pace for another week.

Horses in Hats

2005-06-16T16:04:00.000Z

This made me laugh out loud, Horses in Hats.

I do miss the Guardian and Radio 4, American media (I can't bring myself to call it news) just doesn't come close. It makes me realise just how much we take real journalism forgranted. OK, maybe photoshopped pictures of horses in hats doesn't actually count as 'journalism' but I'm talking about the principle here.

Weather update: the heat wave has broken and it's now a traditional English summer, i.e. cold and wet. I think, I may actually prefer this weather, at least I know where I am with rain and cold.

Who Knew?

2005-06-14T12:59:00.000Z

Today I learned that a Woodchuck is not a bird. This journey is truly one of discovery. A woodchuck is in fact the ugly bastard child of a rabbit and a beaver, or so it looks at any rate. I know my aunt has an extreme reation whenever she sees one near her flowerbeds, think Betsy Trotwood for the 21st century with woodchucks instead of donkeys, you'll get the idea.

As yet, however, I have still not worked out how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood. That might be too much too soon.

I also think I may have been out in the sun too long.

Shows, Sales and Shells

2005-06-13T17:59:00.000Z

A friend of mine once mentioned to me that he prefers my blog when I’m have a really bad day and having a rant and bitch about something or other. Apparently that makes for much more entertaining reading than what a great day I’m having. I take his point but in the interests of writerly integrity or whatever the blog equivalent is I just have to tell it like it is (with some censoring for my mother’s benefit – I understand she is now a regular reader). So, I’m sorry but if you were hoping that I might be having a moan about what a hell of a time I’m having here you might want to stop reading now.

So, those of you that are still with me, quelle weekend!

The opening of the show was a triumph. It would be difficult to make a bad show from Michael’s collection; he has been named as one of the top 100 people in photography in the world and in the top 25 in the country so that gives you some idea of what his personal photography collection is like. He’s also a very nice man although with a dodgy gnome-like beard and terrible dress sense.

The museum was packed with the rich and elderly of Greenwich and everyone cooed at the photos and congratulated us on them as though we had taken the pictures ourselves. Nancy and I had our photographs taken and I showed Aunty where her name is on the acknowledgements panel (she did the editing for our labels) so she was happy. I was pleased to read the comments in the visitor’s book, which said things like ‘very informative’ about our labels, and I even saw some people actually reading them. I gave up trying to loiter near some of the ones I had written to pick up people’s comments; it was too crowded. Nancy was all smiles and at the end of the evening came up to me, gave me a big hug and said ‘well, we did it”.

And I only had one glass of wine since you ask, and plenty of sparkling water, although Aunty, Chie (who came out from the city just for the opening) and I went for another glass of wine together afterwards before Chie caught the train back again.

When we got home and told my uncle all about it, his only comment about the whole thing was ‘did you get paid yet?’ He couldn’t think of one nice or encouraging thing to say, just did my aunt get paid for the editing work.

Saturday morning we had a lie in until the other aunty rang to arrange to meet up and go out somewhere. I suggested a visit to Weir Farm, home of the American Impressionist, J. Alden Weir, and an absolutely beautiful, tranquil place but first of course we had to stop off at every tag sale in between. I’m falling out of love with tag sales; there is a limit to the amount of crap I want to wade through on a blistering hot Saturday morning and I shouldn’t buy anything anyway because I’ll only have to carry it all back to England with me. So far I have bought at tag sales: half a dozen books, two suitcases, one hand-stitched evening purse, three vintage German Christmas biscuit plates, a phony pearl necklace, enamel flower earrings and one king sized bedspread. You see my point when I say that I really don’t need to go to any more tag sales. Ever.

Weir Farm is delightful and although it is very small it is worth visiting if you’re in the area. It is also Connecticut’s only national park. Now isn’t that interesting. We had a very personal tour (we were the only people there) around the buildings by a tall and laconic park ranger who became a little livelier when I told him my dad had been an artist from the area, even showing us into one of the artist’s studios that are not ordinarily on the tour. He asked me a lot about the chapel and dad and his work as we walked back to the visitor center. We continued chatting a little bit in the shop as the aunts looked at postcards when the ranger’s assistant came out from a side office and joined our conversation. “This lady is from England, her dad was an artist from here, Tim Wells” said the tour guide, “oh do you know Hedley Wells?” his assistant replied, looking me dead in the eye without missing a beat. Me: “What? Um, er, yeah, she’s my sister. But how do you know her?” (Which, if you know my sister, you’ll know the possibilities are endless and nothing would surprise me) At which the assistant ranger let out a big smile and said he had overheard us talking in the shop, had googled dad’s name and somehow found Hedley’s name. I guess being a National Park Ranger is a lonely job with few opportunities for laughs.

Sunday, or yesterday as it is known today, was another big day. It was the chance to go somewhere in Greenwich that even my dad wouldn’t have been, Great Captain’s Island.

You may have gathered from my previous posts that Greenwich is a bit posh. More than a bit posh. Greenwich has free-range, organic ‘posh’ delivered twice a week by Tiffany’s.
So you won’t be surprised to learn that Greenwich even has posh beaches, so posh in fact that they are actually a series of islands in Long Island Sound that one can visit by way of the private, residents only ferries. One takes ones resident’s pass (or the resident’s pass that one has borrowed from a co-worker) to the booth on the ferry landing and a very pleasant twenty-minute ferry ride later they drop one at the jetty on the island. Several of these islands have been available for decades, Little Captain’s Island being the most popular and is commonly referred to as Island Beach, Great Captain’s Island is, obviously, slightly bigger but was only bought by Greenwich Town Council in 1990 so it isn’t so developed, no concession stands or facilities so it has far fewer visitors. Which suited Aunty and me just fine.

It is just the most beautiful, unspoilt, romantic, idyllic island you can imagine. It has all the romance and beauty of a desert island but with better facilities. There’s a wildlife reserve full of nesting herons, a lighthouse and the most gorgeous sandy beaches but also showers, toilets, changing rooms, picnic tables with bins and little barbeque stand next to each picnic table. All of this and about twenty other people on the island. We could see Island Beach quite clearly and it was heaving with people, mostly families with small, overheated children and there we were, with more space and fewer people. I can’t understand it but I certainly wasn’t complaining.

So we had our picnic and walked around the island, twice (it’s only a mile and a half long), sat amongst some trees and watched the birds and then I got changed and went swimming for the rest of the afternoon. I played about in the lee of the island where the water was still and warm, picking up pretty shells and stones, watching all the thousands of boats darting about on the Sound and trying not to step on any of the frolicking horse-shoe crabs. Neither of us wanted to leave but we had arranged to have dinner with the other aunt so reluctantly we brushed off the sand, put our shoes back on and went to the jetty for the return ferry.

I discovered this morning that I was not so thorough with my factor 50spf sunscreen as I had thought and I now have very attractive pink strap marks on my back, however, I consider it well worthwhile.