Greetings! Its big bang day today; an event widely publicised in Britain and which our household is following with rapt interest. The First Post carried a series of stunning photos of the LHC at CERN yesterday at http://www.thefirstpost.co.uk/45338,features,large-hadron-collider-back-with-a-big-bang. If you fancy a chuckle, though, The Daily Mash has a satirical take on the event at http://www.thedailymash.co.uk/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=1242&Itemid=59.
The Mash's article about Sarah Palin parodies those more tactfully expressed veiled concerns of the mainstream British media - http://www.thedailymash.co.uk/news/international/ama-gonna-git-me-a-niggra%2c-says-palin-200809041227/. A colourful character deeply involved an event whose consequences the world will live with.
Recently I started listening more to Radio 4. It started off as an early morning escape from Phil's grizzling about Terry Wogan's intonation on Radio 2's morning slot. I'd previously dismissed the station as overly serious and listened only to the occasional reading of Book of the Week in the car, Woman's Hour and Desert Island Discs. I was too hasty. Where else could one hear a whole program about Oliver Cromwell's head? After his death. The unfortunate body part took on a whole life of its own. You'll be relieved to know its now at rest. I'm a willing convert to the station's topical and sometimes eccentric subject matter. Unlike Radio 2 which is easy to "zone out", Radio 4 is somewhat more demanding of its listeners, so I have to practice discipline to remain productive as I go about my daily business. Just as well the broadcast signal in our home is poor, so its currently only available in our bedroom, one bathroom & the kitchen. On occasion I've caught myself lingering in these rooms ...
Since my last email there has been more than a little reconstruction of our property. Some routine work needed done to the house, and some was of a more transformative nature. With muscular help and artisanal expertise from Tom, a resourceful local builder-cum-miracleworker-cum-handyguy, part of the garage has been converted to accommodate furrynuff, my new dog grooming venture. Doggie clients have been relieved of half of themselves since the beginning of the month. Our two haven't escaped every tool in my armoury either. They've been groomed to within a millimetre of their coats. I'm ready to take on the role of the furminator of Stow. My official designation is still groomer-in-training; I'll sit the final exams within the next couple of months. Credits to both Phil & Callan for their creative help with the leaflet and their unflagging, supportive enthusiasm. Gushing indulged, I've attached a few more pics of the furrynuff project. Jodie is the next door neighbours bichon frise, and one of my first models. Dizzy & Lady are our mutts.
In addition to furrynuff, this week I accepted the offer of a 6 hours per week position as a playworker at the Stow Kids Club, starting in October. Its the after school club for the village primary school two blocks from home. This role will be more hands-on than the free play and chitter chatter at youth club, from where I know most of the children already.
The ATG Oxford seasonal job wraps up until next spring at the end of September. 22 walking parties have travailed the Tweed Valley route this season. I've thoroughly enjoyed the meet-greet-'n-luggage-hauler role (with the grand title of Route Manager) and will continue with it next year. It has significant development potential, although I have to limit the amount of time & energy I can allocate to it. I'm hoping in coming months however, to prick the interest of a village based acquaintance in the hope that we may jointly develop the area for ATG. Its been a wonderful opportunity to meet very interesting and well travelled people.
The Open Uni degree I had planned on starting in October was kaiboshed in June. There were a few frustrating weeks communicating back & forth with Unisa, the accreditor of my original qualification. The regime changes in South African education have rendered them unable to locate the necessary academic records to qualify for the exemption credits I had factored into the study period. I couldn't see my attention being held for 6 years to do the degree course from scratch, so made the decision not to pursue the registration any further. You may be asking where's the link between science degree and dog grooming course? You can't tell? Nor can I... but I'm loving it! And I can still curl up with a science book of an evening, even if I'm covered in dog hair.
Last month we availed ourselves of some culture in Edinburgh during the festival season. Phil & I went to see Christopher Hitchens debate Prof John Lennox at the Usher Hall. It was billed as New Europe should prefer the New Atheism, although I thought the title poorly reflected the content. In my view it was only narrowly prevented from descending into an atheism vs. religion debate, as Lennox was unable to defend any religious viewpoint other than Christianity. It kind of missed the point, although it was a joy to hear Hitchens speak on secularism in the eloquent and erudite way one would expect of a widely read critical thinker with a rational worldview steeped in provisional ethics.
We saw Jimmy Carr's new comedy routine Joke Technician. His ability to produce wit and humour through observation of life's banality is masterful. His experience was successfully exercised in tempering a persistently obnoxious drunken heckler throughout the performance. Richard Herring was our choice of comedy at the Fringe festival, held in a small venue in one of the vaults in underground Edinburgh's Old Town. His continuing midlife crisis was this year played out under the title of The Headmaster's Son. Right funny, he was, too.
Other weekends in August were occupied with fresh comedy and drama at a newer upstart rebel of the original "alternative (but now outrageously expensive and mainstream)" Fringe Festival - the attractively named Free Festival. I find the notion of revolting against the revolter is mildly amusing. Who's the most revolting now? Okay, I'll stop there.
A steady stream of guests have dropped by in recent months, including:
my mum for most of June
some of Phil's family and friends from Up North Down South
Callan's usual coterie of teenhood (our very own assortment of near resident idles)
and couchsurfers:
a Finnish high school art teacher, who taught us much about Sami culture and was a wonderful conversationalist
an English charity cyclist en-route between Edinburgh & Cornwall
a Canadian father & son European roadtrip duo, the more senior of whom gleefully volunteered for one of Phil's walks. He was revived at the end by a few lagers & a cream scone.
We're anticipating a repeat US couchie visit sometime in October.
We relish our visitors company and their tales make for charming, stimulating conversation.
Callan recently started her final year of high school. Having done very well in her standard grades she has taken five Higher Grades this year with the aim of completing in June 2009. She will be too young to proceed to university - one of her choices - until October 2010 at the earliest. Her options are to either stay on for an additional year to do some Advanced Highers (unlikely unless she doesn't get the target grade in any Highers), find paid work (which she'll be "actively encouraged" to do part time next year regardless), take a gap year & fill the time constructively, or undertake some other short term study. We have to stay focussed in the medium term however, and GET THOSE HIGHERS. Once that's under the belt we'll navigate to the next hurdle.
British Summer 2008 has been a non-event. I can confidently report that as a consequence of all the rain our lovely green isle is even lovelier and greener, in an abundantly more lush and verdant way than it was 6 months ago. The rain has been relentless and we awoke last Sunday to extensive flooding in our area. The wade back from the paper shop was almost bracing and their leads prevented the dogs from being swept away. Fortunately our street wasn't affected, although many homes in the area were. The level of Gala Water was the highest this year that I have seen in the 5 years we've been in this house. The road our cul-de-sac leads off was flooded just a few hundred metres away; the river burst its banks onto the ajoining field, flowed across the road and into the bowling club and playing fields.
That's probably more news than you've the patience to digest.
Wednesday, 10 September 2008
Monday, 19 May 2008
the stow life - may 2008
The rainclouds are threatening between bouts of lovely bright sunshine. Bleh, I'm catching up on admin today, with the promise of a spell in the garden later to get sweetpeas in the ground just as soon as the "paperwork's" done ... this being Scotland, it may be a case of dashing between raindrops.
Spring has arrived, albeit later than in previous years. We had a wet and chilly April. The upshot of the late spring has been an almost tropical May with the countryside lushly layered with too many shades of green to count. The bluebells and wild garlic are abundant in the local meadows and woodlands. I've been guiltily coveting the less plentiful pink bluebells - we already have some blues in the garden. Yesterday I dug up a small bit of earth next to the roadside containing two bulbs of the pinks and a few rhizomes of wild garlic to replant in our beds. There's still a reserved spot in a carefully prepared and replanted bed in the front garden awaiting some snake's head fritillary. It will very likely have to wait until next year, though, as I've been unsuccessful thusfar in sourcing these rare and endangered native woodland flowers. We had a few clumps of them on a shady slope at Lee Brae. I guess asking the current owner for one or two of the rhizomes would be a step too far. Especially since she's put the house on the market!
We've managed to soak in a bit of culture the past few weeks. There was a one man play at Bowhill Theatre called The Life & Death of Sherlock Holmes, superbly acted by Roger Llewellyn. He played Holmes, Professor Moriarty, Watson and Conan Doyle, as well as a few other minor characters brilliantly through a skillful combination of intonation, accents, gestures and just a few small props. He was limited by the confines of the theatre itself (a converted hunting larder on the Duke of Buccleuch's estate; with a stage no bigger than a large kitchen). I've never yet been disappointed after a night out at Bowhill. Its a small, intimate venue which requires the actors to push the limits of their craft in the absence of elaborate props. The productions are from modest, independent companies with jobbing actors. The limited theatre space means that productions number no more than a handful of actors.
Last night Phil & I enjoyed a meal in Edinburgh with one of his South African workmates & Polish wife before going to see Orkestra del Sol at the Queen's Hall. What a wonderfully and enjoyable noisy, foot stomping, hand clapping, arm waving evening it was. The Orkestra is difficult to categorise: ten multi-talented musos playing a range of acoustic traditional European instruments - ranging from a half size fiddle to a massive tuba, as well as the clarinet, trumpet, saxophone, bass drum and a few other musical contrivances I've never heard or seen before. In a variety of styles including waltz, polka, calypso. Sousaphone is how they describe themselves. Add to that some rip roaring storytelling and you've got Orkestra del Sol. The warm up act, The Den Collective, was just as good - sort of Afrobeat, with lots of traditional drums which they used to excellent effect to accompany their dancing & movement.
Next Saturday we've a day trip to Northumberland planned. Our neighbour, a retired merchant seaman, will be joining us. It'll start with a drive over the causeway to Lindisfarne & Holy Island while the tide's out. From there its on to Seahouses where you hop on a boat over to the Farne Islands to do a spot of puffin watching. We'll take a picnic with to enjoy mid morning at Lindisfarne and end off with a fish supper along the Seahouses pier in the evening. If the gulls can be kept at bay long enough, that is. I'm hoping to be able to squeeze in the Gertrude Jeckyll garden on Holy Island, for some gardening inspiration.
The spare room's been occupied on and off since March with guests and couchsurfers. We had a delightful American family with their two young daughters for two nights, from North Carolina. Their visit was followed by a repeat visit from a couchie turned friend, who returned with her teenage son this time. It was his first visit abroad, and we're looking forward to hearing his thoughts & observations when he's had a chance to digest the trip. I find children's and young people's views about travel & meeting different cultures very insightful and realise how influential and formative they can be when I read Callan's creative writing, look at her art, or listen to her put forward points of view. She has gained valuable insight through seeing how other people live, and it has had a significant effect on her worldview. It has opened her mind to many different perspectives and she has strong convictions about universal issues as a result.
One couchsurf encounter resulted in a job over the summer. This has kept me busy this month, and is a very refreshing alternative to the more mundane, rather mind numbing temp assignment I was doing in March and April. The job itself was a text book case for the bureaucratic and self serving tasks found in organisations reluctant to evolve or change. Things are done the way they always have been. But no one knows why. Or what purpose they serve. One can only assume that people who repeatedly perform inefficient tasks, liberally interspersed with periods of idleness for their day job must find fulfillment and stimulation in other areas of their life. I found it frustrating to surrender so much precious time, albeit paid, to feed the machine of bureaucracy.
The ATG Oxford job over the summer couldn't be a more stark contrast to the temp assignment. It involves driving luggage around the countryside and meeting-n-greeting independent travellers on a 50 odd mile walk through the Scottish Borders. The formalities are briefing & debriefing them and ensuring their holiday is hitchfree. Its on a self employed basis and keeps me busy anything between 2 to 4 hours a day pretty much everyday until the end of September.
What an unexpected outcome from accepting a couchsurf request. The couchsurfer was a great guest, too, sharing with us his cycling adventure from Britain to China, and then back again. He's aiming to publish the story in book form, and meantime there's more about it at www.2wheels.org.uk. Some tales he had, and also very thought provoking insights about life and human nature, which we thoroughly enjoyed.
We're looking forward to more interesting couchsurf hosts over the summer, interspersed with visits from some of Phil's family from "up north" of England. We've eventually persuaded some that its reasonably safe for the English to venture over Hadrian's wall to check out the natives in Scotland. Frankly, one has more to fear from the artery clogging diet. Although the loutish behaviour of a small hardcore of footie supporters in Manchester last week may not convince a fearty Englishman.
I registered last month to study part time with the Open University; with the first course starting in October. It'll be the Open Degree - either BSc or BA - probably with Honours. I aim to fast track the course by applying for credits for an existing qualification, but got word back last week that the OU doesn't recognise my Higher Diploma of Education - the equivalent in Britain of a Bachelor of Education. Even more frustratingly, the BA Ed qualifies significantly for credits. I'll follow up with the awarding body - Unisa, and make a case to OU, because the thought of doing a degree from scratch, part time for the next 6 years doesn't appeal quite so much. I had hoped to get exemption for at least a quarter to a third of the degree.
A selection of last year's Southern Africa holiday photos (a 100 odd of them, to be more exact) have now been uploaded to Flickr. They're uncaptioned there - only because the hours of work put into carefully captioning them on the computer didn't move across with them - but the more touristy ones and some of the mugs in them are quite recognisable. They're at http://www.flickr.com/photos/raona/
Spring has arrived, albeit later than in previous years. We had a wet and chilly April. The upshot of the late spring has been an almost tropical May with the countryside lushly layered with too many shades of green to count. The bluebells and wild garlic are abundant in the local meadows and woodlands. I've been guiltily coveting the less plentiful pink bluebells - we already have some blues in the garden. Yesterday I dug up a small bit of earth next to the roadside containing two bulbs of the pinks and a few rhizomes of wild garlic to replant in our beds. There's still a reserved spot in a carefully prepared and replanted bed in the front garden awaiting some snake's head fritillary. It will very likely have to wait until next year, though, as I've been unsuccessful thusfar in sourcing these rare and endangered native woodland flowers. We had a few clumps of them on a shady slope at Lee Brae. I guess asking the current owner for one or two of the rhizomes would be a step too far. Especially since she's put the house on the market!
We've managed to soak in a bit of culture the past few weeks. There was a one man play at Bowhill Theatre called The Life & Death of Sherlock Holmes, superbly acted by Roger Llewellyn. He played Holmes, Professor Moriarty, Watson and Conan Doyle, as well as a few other minor characters brilliantly through a skillful combination of intonation, accents, gestures and just a few small props. He was limited by the confines of the theatre itself (a converted hunting larder on the Duke of Buccleuch's estate; with a stage no bigger than a large kitchen). I've never yet been disappointed after a night out at Bowhill. Its a small, intimate venue which requires the actors to push the limits of their craft in the absence of elaborate props. The productions are from modest, independent companies with jobbing actors. The limited theatre space means that productions number no more than a handful of actors.
Last night Phil & I enjoyed a meal in Edinburgh with one of his South African workmates & Polish wife before going to see Orkestra del Sol at the Queen's Hall. What a wonderfully and enjoyable noisy, foot stomping, hand clapping, arm waving evening it was. The Orkestra is difficult to categorise: ten multi-talented musos playing a range of acoustic traditional European instruments - ranging from a half size fiddle to a massive tuba, as well as the clarinet, trumpet, saxophone, bass drum and a few other musical contrivances I've never heard or seen before. In a variety of styles including waltz, polka, calypso. Sousaphone is how they describe themselves. Add to that some rip roaring storytelling and you've got Orkestra del Sol. The warm up act, The Den Collective, was just as good - sort of Afrobeat, with lots of traditional drums which they used to excellent effect to accompany their dancing & movement.
Next Saturday we've a day trip to Northumberland planned. Our neighbour, a retired merchant seaman, will be joining us. It'll start with a drive over the causeway to Lindisfarne & Holy Island while the tide's out. From there its on to Seahouses where you hop on a boat over to the Farne Islands to do a spot of puffin watching. We'll take a picnic with to enjoy mid morning at Lindisfarne and end off with a fish supper along the Seahouses pier in the evening. If the gulls can be kept at bay long enough, that is. I'm hoping to be able to squeeze in the Gertrude Jeckyll garden on Holy Island, for some gardening inspiration.
The spare room's been occupied on and off since March with guests and couchsurfers. We had a delightful American family with their two young daughters for two nights, from North Carolina. Their visit was followed by a repeat visit from a couchie turned friend, who returned with her teenage son this time. It was his first visit abroad, and we're looking forward to hearing his thoughts & observations when he's had a chance to digest the trip. I find children's and young people's views about travel & meeting different cultures very insightful and realise how influential and formative they can be when I read Callan's creative writing, look at her art, or listen to her put forward points of view. She has gained valuable insight through seeing how other people live, and it has had a significant effect on her worldview. It has opened her mind to many different perspectives and she has strong convictions about universal issues as a result.
One couchsurf encounter resulted in a job over the summer. This has kept me busy this month, and is a very refreshing alternative to the more mundane, rather mind numbing temp assignment I was doing in March and April. The job itself was a text book case for the bureaucratic and self serving tasks found in organisations reluctant to evolve or change. Things are done the way they always have been. But no one knows why. Or what purpose they serve. One can only assume that people who repeatedly perform inefficient tasks, liberally interspersed with periods of idleness for their day job must find fulfillment and stimulation in other areas of their life. I found it frustrating to surrender so much precious time, albeit paid, to feed the machine of bureaucracy.
The ATG Oxford job over the summer couldn't be a more stark contrast to the temp assignment. It involves driving luggage around the countryside and meeting-n-greeting independent travellers on a 50 odd mile walk through the Scottish Borders. The formalities are briefing & debriefing them and ensuring their holiday is hitchfree. Its on a self employed basis and keeps me busy anything between 2 to 4 hours a day pretty much everyday until the end of September.
What an unexpected outcome from accepting a couchsurf request. The couchsurfer was a great guest, too, sharing with us his cycling adventure from Britain to China, and then back again. He's aiming to publish the story in book form, and meantime there's more about it at www.2wheels.org.uk. Some tales he had, and also very thought provoking insights about life and human nature, which we thoroughly enjoyed.
We're looking forward to more interesting couchsurf hosts over the summer, interspersed with visits from some of Phil's family from "up north" of England. We've eventually persuaded some that its reasonably safe for the English to venture over Hadrian's wall to check out the natives in Scotland. Frankly, one has more to fear from the artery clogging diet. Although the loutish behaviour of a small hardcore of footie supporters in Manchester last week may not convince a fearty Englishman.
I registered last month to study part time with the Open University; with the first course starting in October. It'll be the Open Degree - either BSc or BA - probably with Honours. I aim to fast track the course by applying for credits for an existing qualification, but got word back last week that the OU doesn't recognise my Higher Diploma of Education - the equivalent in Britain of a Bachelor of Education. Even more frustratingly, the BA Ed qualifies significantly for credits. I'll follow up with the awarding body - Unisa, and make a case to OU, because the thought of doing a degree from scratch, part time for the next 6 years doesn't appeal quite so much. I had hoped to get exemption for at least a quarter to a third of the degree.
A selection of last year's Southern Africa holiday photos (a 100 odd of them, to be more exact) have now been uploaded to Flickr. They're uncaptioned there - only because the hours of work put into carefully captioning them on the computer didn't move across with them - but the more touristy ones and some of the mugs in them are quite recognisable. They're at http://www.flickr.com/photos/raona/
Wednesday, 19 March 2008
the stow life - march 2008
Its a very orinery life here in the village. I did my bi-monthly stint at the local youth club last night. Its one of the opportunities to catch up with gossip. Now that I have a little more time to shoot the breeze with neighbours and friends, some of the minutiae of village life brings me in mind of The League of Gentlemen. Not that I'm suggesting that Royston Vasey is a patch on Stow, although we do have some of our very own homegrown locals. And I'd judge our wee shop safer to venture into. They even sell stuff there, too.
It was my mum's 80th at the end of February. She is healthy, sounds happy and is well settled in Kloof. Her leg, which has been painful for sometime now, is curtailing her physical activity, and she's a little forgetful, but apart from that doesn't have any other complaints. We spoke on the weekend when she phoned to tell us about the very unexpected death of a family friend. Gawie Krause was the 50 year old son of one of my dad's oldest friends and a very successful businessman. He'd been in management consultancy type work, I think - in Dubai, in the years it was quietly transforming itself from a Middle Eastern fishing village into an economic powerhouse and before many Westerners knew of its existence. He returned home from a run on Saturday and literally dropped down dead. Probably the best way to check out, but shocking that it came without warning, and at a relatively young age.
The past month has fairly flown by and spring is in the air. I've bought a car in the interim - a good second hand Fiat Panda - and so have wheels again. I rather enjoyed the challenge of doing without one for the month I was carless. Shopping and appointments were planned with military precision; owing to the high cost of public transport locally and my physical limitations. That said, with petrol costing £1.05+ per litre, I'm not easily pursuaded to make unnecessary car journeys in any event. Callan very thoughtfully delayed her homeward bus journeys on shopping days and helped me lug our shopping bags of "messages" between shops, bus stops and home. Phil, our household's fearless and very experienced public transportation-ist, kept me right with bus protocol. He also pretended not to be with me on a few occasions when I negotiated keener bus fares. Whilst my maxim is if you don't ask you don't get, and I do love a bargain, I think he views it as confrontational. Or "making a fuss". Very un-British.
Phil's adjusted well to work after his time in pasture and is enjoying being a Samsung tech support bod. The vast majority of the calls are to do with widescreen tellies. And elderly folk befuddled by all the buttons on the remote and telly's menu. Who can blame them? It used to be that one pressed a button and one was entertained. No longer ... Nevermind, a "factory reset" is to telly what "alt-ctrl-delete" is to computers. Although the timing, sequence and execution of buttons needing pushed in quick succession challenges even the most dextrous. His patience and empathy seem to result in success most of the time, and this gives him a sense of satisfaction when dealing with frustrated callers. He says patience is somewhat lacking in the younger agents, and he's concluded this comes with maturity.
Now that spring is springing, and after a quiet period, we're again inundated with Couchsurfing requests. We were to have hosted a woman from Norwich just after the Easter weekend. She's had to curtail her adventuring to Scotland though, due to an ankle injury, so we've taken a raincheck. Our first lot of visitors is a family of 4 Americans (who are also Couchsurf virgins, so they're likely feel a little awkward first time round) and then a repeat visit from a couchsurfer-turned-friend - who stayed with us last year with her sister. She's bringing her eldest son with on his maiden international outing, and is really looking forward to introducing him to the UK. As we're unlikely to get a holiday abroad this year, the hosting in some way compensates by bringing the world to 7 Mill Court.
My ex-colleagues sent me the most thoughtful goodbye email, accompanied by a very generous gift voucher from Amazon (the internet vendor of just about any- and everything, but which pioneered online booksales in the heady days of the Dotcom boom), which encouraged me to fulfil my "wishlist". If you're familiar with Amazon you'll know this is a very useful feature which allows you to keep a note of books which you don't intend to necessarily buy. Or not immediately anyway. Mine had been populated with a long list of books, some more than a year ago. Now, any bookophile will know the extreme self discipline which must be exercised to prevent onesself from just checking them all out using Amazon's 1-click, and I was impressed by my prudence and self control. Having initially almost dismissed the email as spam and inadvertently deleted it, I rapidly popped a good 3/4 of the wishlist in the checkout basket. They arrived last week, and will be voraciously consumed at leisure.
It was sad to hear about the sudden death of Anthony Minghella yesterday. I don't know if you are aware of the Alexander McCall Smith series of No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency novels. Minghella had bought the film rights and made the first one into a feature, which will be screened on BBC this weekend. The lead role is played by Jill Scott, an American soul singer, and it was shot in Botswana. If you've not yet read any of the books, I can highly recommend them as an alternative perspective on an African theme - optimistic, gentle, hopeful - refreshing compared to the usual gloomy portrayal. His writing style is beautiful, they are truly a joy to read. I wonder what will happen with the next 13 episodes which the Beeb and HBO commissioned Minghella and Richard Curtis to produce?
Callan returned home from school yesterday, having committed herself to the five fifth year subjects she'll be studying. This follows a term of intensive specialist advice and counselling to guide the students towards deciding on a career post school. She has made some unwise academic decisions recently and her attitude borders on slacker at the moment - due in part to high academic grades. Whilst its perfectly acceptable to coast through life, one is very unlikely to achieve one's potential. She has some, and then some ... potential, that is, just waiting to be realised. Throughout it all, and much to her consternation I've refused to co-erce her into anything other than considering options, as I think it is vital that she take responsibility for her choices and understands the consequences of the decisions she's made. Its been a rather trying time, but I'm hopeful we're over this hump. This being teenage-hood the next one won't be far off. Ah, nostalgia kicks in ... how I long to know so much again.
My career break days have been constructively filled and I'm finding them enormously fulfilling. My portfolio of skills also now extends to amateur plumbing, which I'll away to in a bit, as one of the showers needs some maintenance. (I should stress that amateur, rather than the plumbing, is the operative word.) But I'll have a go at most things. I draw the line at tinkering with electricity though. My days consist of dog walking, contemplating, socialising, creatively food conjuring, the odd bit of housework and then attending to the plethora of other important stuff which just has to be done. Its go-go-go and the days fairly fly by. I've even started getting up an hour earlier to fit more of life in, as morning is the time of day I function best at. There are some interviews pending in the next two weeks for some interesting part time work.
Right, I'm off to hone the plumbing skills.
It was my mum's 80th at the end of February. She is healthy, sounds happy and is well settled in Kloof. Her leg, which has been painful for sometime now, is curtailing her physical activity, and she's a little forgetful, but apart from that doesn't have any other complaints. We spoke on the weekend when she phoned to tell us about the very unexpected death of a family friend. Gawie Krause was the 50 year old son of one of my dad's oldest friends and a very successful businessman. He'd been in management consultancy type work, I think - in Dubai, in the years it was quietly transforming itself from a Middle Eastern fishing village into an economic powerhouse and before many Westerners knew of its existence. He returned home from a run on Saturday and literally dropped down dead. Probably the best way to check out, but shocking that it came without warning, and at a relatively young age.
The past month has fairly flown by and spring is in the air. I've bought a car in the interim - a good second hand Fiat Panda - and so have wheels again. I rather enjoyed the challenge of doing without one for the month I was carless. Shopping and appointments were planned with military precision; owing to the high cost of public transport locally and my physical limitations. That said, with petrol costing £1.05+ per litre, I'm not easily pursuaded to make unnecessary car journeys in any event. Callan very thoughtfully delayed her homeward bus journeys on shopping days and helped me lug our shopping bags of "messages" between shops, bus stops and home. Phil, our household's fearless and very experienced public transportation-ist, kept me right with bus protocol. He also pretended not to be with me on a few occasions when I negotiated keener bus fares. Whilst my maxim is if you don't ask you don't get, and I do love a bargain, I think he views it as confrontational. Or "making a fuss". Very un-British.
Phil's adjusted well to work after his time in pasture and is enjoying being a Samsung tech support bod. The vast majority of the calls are to do with widescreen tellies. And elderly folk befuddled by all the buttons on the remote and telly's menu. Who can blame them? It used to be that one pressed a button and one was entertained. No longer ... Nevermind, a "factory reset" is to telly what "alt-ctrl-delete" is to computers. Although the timing, sequence and execution of buttons needing pushed in quick succession challenges even the most dextrous. His patience and empathy seem to result in success most of the time, and this gives him a sense of satisfaction when dealing with frustrated callers. He says patience is somewhat lacking in the younger agents, and he's concluded this comes with maturity.
Now that spring is springing, and after a quiet period, we're again inundated with Couchsurfing requests. We were to have hosted a woman from Norwich just after the Easter weekend. She's had to curtail her adventuring to Scotland though, due to an ankle injury, so we've taken a raincheck. Our first lot of visitors is a family of 4 Americans (who are also Couchsurf virgins, so they're likely feel a little awkward first time round) and then a repeat visit from a couchsurfer-turned-friend - who stayed with us last year with her sister. She's bringing her eldest son with on his maiden international outing, and is really looking forward to introducing him to the UK. As we're unlikely to get a holiday abroad this year, the hosting in some way compensates by bringing the world to 7 Mill Court.
My ex-colleagues sent me the most thoughtful goodbye email, accompanied by a very generous gift voucher from Amazon (the internet vendor of just about any- and everything, but which pioneered online booksales in the heady days of the Dotcom boom), which encouraged me to fulfil my "wishlist". If you're familiar with Amazon you'll know this is a very useful feature which allows you to keep a note of books which you don't intend to necessarily buy. Or not immediately anyway. Mine had been populated with a long list of books, some more than a year ago. Now, any bookophile will know the extreme self discipline which must be exercised to prevent onesself from just checking them all out using Amazon's 1-click, and I was impressed by my prudence and self control. Having initially almost dismissed the email as spam and inadvertently deleted it, I rapidly popped a good 3/4 of the wishlist in the checkout basket. They arrived last week, and will be voraciously consumed at leisure.
It was sad to hear about the sudden death of Anthony Minghella yesterday. I don't know if you are aware of the Alexander McCall Smith series of No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency novels. Minghella had bought the film rights and made the first one into a feature, which will be screened on BBC this weekend. The lead role is played by Jill Scott, an American soul singer, and it was shot in Botswana. If you've not yet read any of the books, I can highly recommend them as an alternative perspective on an African theme - optimistic, gentle, hopeful - refreshing compared to the usual gloomy portrayal. His writing style is beautiful, they are truly a joy to read. I wonder what will happen with the next 13 episodes which the Beeb and HBO commissioned Minghella and Richard Curtis to produce?
Callan returned home from school yesterday, having committed herself to the five fifth year subjects she'll be studying. This follows a term of intensive specialist advice and counselling to guide the students towards deciding on a career post school. She has made some unwise academic decisions recently and her attitude borders on slacker at the moment - due in part to high academic grades. Whilst its perfectly acceptable to coast through life, one is very unlikely to achieve one's potential. She has some, and then some ... potential, that is, just waiting to be realised. Throughout it all, and much to her consternation I've refused to co-erce her into anything other than considering options, as I think it is vital that she take responsibility for her choices and understands the consequences of the decisions she's made. Its been a rather trying time, but I'm hopeful we're over this hump. This being teenage-hood the next one won't be far off. Ah, nostalgia kicks in ... how I long to know so much again.
My career break days have been constructively filled and I'm finding them enormously fulfilling. My portfolio of skills also now extends to amateur plumbing, which I'll away to in a bit, as one of the showers needs some maintenance. (I should stress that amateur, rather than the plumbing, is the operative word.) But I'll have a go at most things. I draw the line at tinkering with electricity though. My days consist of dog walking, contemplating, socialising, creatively food conjuring, the odd bit of housework and then attending to the plethora of other important stuff which just has to be done. Its go-go-go and the days fairly fly by. I've even started getting up an hour earlier to fit more of life in, as morning is the time of day I function best at. There are some interviews pending in the next two weeks for some interesting part time work.
Right, I'm off to hone the plumbing skills.
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