Anniversary Month!

Howdy-do-dee (as my mum and I sometimes say to each other)!

Well so far August has been amazing, and it is also clearly in a hurry. There are a couple of conversations that we, as human beings, keep having. One of them is the “Can you believe it’s already lunchtime/bedtime/Easter/August/Winter ?!” Considering that our time and calendar systems move in a very predictable way, none of these events should come as a surprise. Of course, perception of time is very subjective, regardless of how objectively it is measured. I for one remember summer holidays as lasting, almost literally, forever. I feel I have more “summer” memories, than I have of any other season, with the exception of Christmas specifically. A lot of people I know feel similarly. This summer has been good, so far, and although it’s taken a turn towards the chillier end of the thermal spectrum, I am still holding out hope for another blast of heat. 

I took the bulk of my remaining annual leave in this month, and that was awesome. I went to a festival called Bloodstock (not nearly as violent as the name suggests), and then just spent some time at home. There is a very real delight in being able to live in my pyjamas for 2 days. 

 

There are also two major anniversaries happening in August. On Saturday the 23rd, MoTH and I have officially been homeowners for a year. Yes, we are slightly freaked out about how long it’s been already. There are still a few weeks to go before we have LIVED here for a year, which is good because it gives me time to unpack the very last boxes, haha!

This next anniversary is so important to me that I actually find it hard to find the right words. Ten years ago this month (clearly so long ago that I cannot remember the exact dates!), is when my four best friends and I found each other. Although not really. Well, kinda. Three of us had already met the previous year, as we were in the same class in high school. So we were already friends, but it took an additional two people to forge us in to this pentagonal force of awesomeness. 

These four ladies have really spoiled me, and have set the bar of friendship really high. You know that kind of friend who knows your history and where you’re coming from? I have four of those. We don’t always agree on everything (which is good!), but we provide a forum for each other to vent about the world. The sad thing is that we haven’t all been together in one room since… Christmas 2006 or 2007? We have met up separately (though not as often as any of us would like!), but it’s tricky to plan a “reunion” (were we ever really separated though? I mean really?) when we’re spread across three different countries. I think communication has been key in keeping our friendship going! We started off with group emails and chats via MSN. Then came Facebook, which helped a lot too, I have to admit! And now with mobile technologies like WhatsApp and SnapChat it is so much easier to communicate about the small things again. Maybe in the past we would have saved up for the group email, relayed the big(ish) news or ideas. Now I can just text them a picture of me doing my nails. It may seem intensely trivial, but that one picture can spark a twenty minute conversation about how we’re all doing and what we’re up to. One of my friends is doing awesome science at Columbia University, and when she sends a photo of the beautiful campus grounds on a sunny day, I feel like I know a little bit more about how she’s doing. And isn’t that what friends are supposed to know? :-)

The downside of having super awesome friends like these ladies, is that I sometimes fail at initiating and engaging in friendships here in my immediate vicinity. Learning to be friends with someone new as an adult is something I find slightly intimidating. When are we “friends”, exactly? When we become Facebook friends? How many nights out does it take? How do you even ask someone to be your friend? I met a lady who came in to my office, she was fabulous and after 5 minutes we were already talking about the varying infrastructures of the different European countries. I mean.. who does that? I wanted to be friends with this lady, but because of the work scenario I was in, I didn’t feel I could ask “so do you wanna hang out and get coffee some time?”. Because, seriously, if the cashier say, Tesco, or the Post Office did that to you, you would say “Uhm…. no… thanks, I have…. stuff… to do” and quickly run away, right?

I suppose one way to Friend, is by connecting over a shared hobby. But I don’t really have a hobby (I must do something about that)! I will figure it out eventually!

Bottom line: I miss my Clan (you know who you are), but I know we’re all off doing the things we need to do for life purposes. I love that we visit each other, and that we talk as much as we do. I hope that one day we’ll all live in the same country again! :-)

Salutations in the Sunshine!

So.. is it just me or is it hot in here? And no, not like in Nelly’s music video. It’s been too hot to even dance! Like, 15 minutes out of the shower and already feel to icky to function hot. Or maybe that was just London? I was in London for a 4-day extravaganza to see one of my friends. It was amazing! Well.. when I got there!

Those of you who know me, know how much I love complaining about air travel. Unfortunately Thursday’s journey merits my travel induced rage. I was at the airport in time. For the first time ever, I was travelling with hand luggage only. I had sorted my liquids in to a resealable bag, all was organised. I was waiting for the gate to be called, my flight was meant to be at 21:20, until… “Flight delayed until 21:50”. Normally a 30 minute delay wouldn’t bother me, but the later it gets in to the evening, the more limited further travel options get. I could go on about exactly how a 30 minute flight delay  (with an airline which boasts that 87% of their flights are on time), plus being stuck during a supposed fire alarm drill at Gatwick actually cost me an extra £30 and added 1 ½ hours to my estimated arrival time at my friend’s house, but it’s so depressing that I can’t even bear reading it. Let’s just say that I am very grateful to the private hire driver who waited for me for 15 minutes (he was early, I was late); he played a crucial part in preventing me from breaking down in stress-related-sobs. Needless to say I will be contacting the airline and Gatwick (because I’m apparently an old person, that’s what we do! :-P)

I will say that I LOVE flying. I think it’s a wonderful feat of mechanics and engineering. I love take-offs and landings especially. I always want to sit at the window, because it’s the seat for winners (unless you have long legs, then I understand the aisle seat preference). It fills me with dread to be sat in the middle seat. No one should have to bear that unless they’re sitting next to people they know on both sides! I love watching everything, and if you’re so lucky to be flying at the most magical times (sunset, sunrise, night time), then the views you can get are so amazing. Both my flights were late, but the late summer sunset meant that I still got to see the lovely colours in the sky. Honestly, it would make watercolourists and impressionist painters reach for their brushes, and I wish I had any photography skills at all, so I could capture some of the lovely colours and images. I’ve flown over Norwegian mountains lit only by moonlight, and it’s stunning. Equally I love coming in for landing late at night when it’s dark, when you get an aerial shot of an illuminated city. The sad thing is that behind many of those lit up windows in those lit up areas sit unhappy people who think they’re all alone. If they could just see that the people all around them have their lights on too, maybe that would help. 

I feel like I can’t talk about flying right now, without also mentioning the absolute tragedy of the Malaysian Airline flights. First one is “lost”, then another is shot down? I actually can’t genuinely fathom it. How do either of those things even happen in this day and age? How can people be dead because of something like that? I can’t even begin to imagine what the families of the passengers must be going through, but I hope that they’ll be able to put their loved ones to rest as soon as possible. 

On Saturday my friend and I went to Stonehenge, which was amazing! I was informed by my mother that I have apparently been there before when I was small, but I have no memory of this whatsoever, sorry Stonehenge! Thanks to the deal-scouting efforts of my friend, we had managed to get the coach and entry for half price (ka-ching!), the only downside was that we had to get up very early on a Saturday. We were not amused, hehe. The weather was perfect, a bit overcast, but not looming with the threat of rain. I think it’s simultaneously baffling and awesome that we still don’t know what Stonehenge was built for. Yes there are theories, of course, but we can’t really tell definitively what its purpose was. It was impressive and beautiful nevertheless!

On the coach during the return journey the person sitting in front of my friend decided to recline his seat. I am sorry, but unless you have a medical condition or back problem that necessitates seat-reclination, then don’t. Please, dear readers, just don’t. If one person starts reclining, then we all have to start to recline in order to not get each other’s hair (and possibly dandruff) up our noses!

On Sunday we went to the Victoria & Albert Museum, which is totally free! I love free museums, it embodies the best about a cultured society that values preservation of art, culture and knowledge. I also enjoyed the inscription over the front entrance, which you can barely make out in the photo below: “The Excellence of Every Art Must Consist in the Complete Accomplishment of Its Purpose”. 

Please also feel free to browse the 100 Facts about the V&A, which is actually (though not surprisingly) quite interesting! 

Lidded Incense Burner in the form of a tripod vase on a tree root with attached peacock and peahen

The only downside to going somewhere so very metropolitan, cosmopolitan and lively, is that I get a case of the Grass is Greener Complex. Suddenly I have images of packing up and moving there, starting afresh (although I fear it would be slightly less Sex and the City style, and more Bridget Jones style…), and going wild. The opportunities are dizzying, but then so is the cost of living, and transport, and basically the cost of everything, hehe. Please don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t give up my life with MotH for anything, I just wish I could experience it ALL! I wish I could split myself in to several versions of me, with a joint consciousness. I would send myself across the globe, pursuing every avenue and option. Every major city, alone or with others, good times and bad times, rich and poor, I want know it all, have it all and see it all. On a smaller scale I have this sense of possessiveness and want about books. Whenever I go in to a large bookstore, I just wish I had the power to absorb the story from every book. I think that’s why I sometimes go in to a bit of a funk. Being only one person with one consciousness, I have to make choices, and although I like them, there’s always the “what if” lurking in my head. More often than not I tell myself to get over it, but sometimes that’s hard, hehe. 

And suddenly we’re over halfway through July. I don’t remember permitting this to happen, but there’s nothing we can do about it now except enjoy it! I hope you all enjoy it, and I should be back in a few weeks with another post!

Toodles!

Sun, Glorious Sun!

It’s summer! The sun is out, it’s warm, what country am I in again?! Surely this can’t be Scotland, land of wind and rain. 

Oh don’t get me wrong, it still rains plenty, but we’re actually getting some half decent full-on sunshine too. Which is great for anyone suffering from a lack of good old Vitamin D. 

It’s been a good few weeks since I last posted, so I will bring you up to speed with my endeavours!

I will start with the exciting news I mentioned at the end of my last post. Mere days after launching the last blog post in to the “blogosphere” (I hate that word, and promise never to use it again, probably), I was accepted on to the University of Glasgow’s Access Programme. As my high school  grades are not super amazing and also about 8 years old, I need to put some more work in to getting back to Uni that your fresh-out-of-high-school-youngster. The Access Programme involves taking two evening classes a week over an academic year, and if I achieve good results I will be admitted to the University proper in my chosen undergraduate degree programme! I cannot tell you how excited I am, and I for one cannot wait for September, when my evening classes start. While I don’t regret leaving the course I attended when I first went to University, I do regret not thinking more carefully about other options. But that’s water under the bridge now and I’m really looking forward to the future. I suppose there are downsides to returning to full time study at this stage in life. It would likely involve leaving a public sector job unless I can get part-time hours, and there’s that biological clock to consider. I remember when I was around 20 years old, my plan was to either have no children, or to have had all of them by the time I was 30. Sorry past-me, that was not to be, but that’s just how life is! But I know other people have pursued their ambitions and faced even greater challenges than I will, while managing a job and little ones, so I’m just going to run with it. My job is just that, a job. It’s not a career, there are few (if any!) development opportunities linked to my current role, whereas with the degree I’m looking at, there are a few options available that tickle my fancy that could lead to a genuine career path, even in my mid-30’s. 

I feel supported in this decision by this magical Unicorn, that I discovered in a shop while in Edinburgh for the weekend:

It’s clearly a sign that I’m on the right track, after all, it’s not every day you find the softest, plushiest and oh-so-affordable (it was on sale, another sign!) Unicorn! My joy at the Unicorn discovery (I named him Fred, by the way) was boosted by finally seeing the Edinburgh trams in action!

Okay, so it took way too long for them to be built, and they cost way to much money to build, and the whole project was one gigantic mess after another, but now that they’re here, I kinda like them!

My Edinburgh weekend was amazing, it was a proper girly weekend with two of my friends. There was take-away food, there was wine, there was music and dancing. Oh, and we visited the Ting Thai Caravan, a pop-up restaurant that decided to stick around, offering up some delicious food. 

Near the end of June, MotH and I, along with a friend, let’s call her G, attended the Southside Shindig in Queen’s Park in Glasgow. It was a scorcher of a day, and the festivities were in celebration of the upcoming Commonwealth Games and diversity in general. There were wee performances and more delicious food! Mmmm, jerk chicken, so good! We ended the day with a pint of something alcoholic (naughty!) and a lovely view.

And I got my annual sunburn.

This happens every year, I step out of the door thinking “oh, it’s partly/mostly overcast, I’ll be fine”, and then the sun comes through and goes “hahahahahaha, fooled you!” It leads to an even redder faced me, along with tender arms (my legs on the other hand never see daylight). When I remarked on how warm my sunburnt skin was, even days after the initial burn, MotH replied with “it’s because you’ve trapped the sun in your skin!”, which I thought was quite adorable (awwwwww!). 

Despite all these outings, I have been a right hermit for pretty much the last half of May and most of June. A new MMORPG (that’s Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game for you uninitiated) has been launched by the name of Wildstar, and it’s awesome! Despite the “Multiplayer” aspect, I do most of my playing by myself, much to the dismay of MotH, who thinks I should be more social. The game is clever and witty and sarcastic, and doesn’t take itself to seriously, which are all good things in my book. The characters I’ve created are me, but more awesome and with enormous weapons. I feel like a ninja, an angel of death, and sometimes the power gets to my head, muahahahaha. I have engaged in small-scale socialness, like small group events and some general chit chat in the chat function. MotH doesn’t understand my reluctance to play large group oriented events. My main worries are those age-old fears that we all had as children (unless you were a psychopath/sociopath): “What if the other kids don’t like me?!”, “What if I don’t play well?”, “I haven’t done this before and I’m scared of doing it wrong!”. Considering that it’s a GAME, and that I’m 28 years old, I can see why these fears seem totally irrational. But it’s still a social game, and behind all the pixels are real people of every creed, gender (or non-gender), orientation, age, ability and so on, and I don’t want them to dislike me :-P But despite the non-socialness, the story within the game is really compelling, the graphics are beautiful, and it’s just awesome! It keeps me coming back, which I can’t really say for World of Warcraft (the Big Boss of MMORPGs that every other MMORPG gets compared to) anymore. I’ve slightly overcome my yay-it’s-so-shiny-and-new addiction, which resulted in a stack of dirty dashes, piles of dirty laundry and many missed bedtimes. What can I say, I was enthralled! If you’re in any way of the computer game persuasion, I can highly recommend it! In fact, I think it’s time I went back to play some more!

Have a continued lovely day, everybody!

Back Up for Air

She's Alive!

Once again apologies for the long break, convalescing post-surgery and then going back to work proved to be a bit of a drain on my energy levels. It wasn't for the lack of doing interesting things though!

I believe that healing is in the mind as well as in the body, so I made myself go in to town and see some things that my normal work schedule otherwise wouldn't allow. I went to the Gallery of Modern Art (affectionately known as GoMA here), during the end of their Living with War exhibit. This featured works by various artists, spanning the 19th, 20th and 21st centuries. It was quite moving and I'm really glad I was able to go. Obviously I didn't take pictures of the art, because that would have been less than popular, but I did snap some photos of the GoMA itself, which is also lovely!

Lovely Glass Dome

A view from the Top!

I also went to a talk on Seeing God in Japanese Traditions, which was held by St Mungo Museum of Religious Life and Art as part of a wider "Seeing God in... " series. I didn't get round to seeing any of the other talks, but Japanese spiritual life is a topic I know very little about, yet it seems so important to the culture. The talk was really lovely and informative, and the speaker was kind enough to email me with some suggestions for further reading. 

Sometimes when I wait for my train home from work I am struck at how lovely Glasgow Central Station really is, architecturally speaking, when you strip away all the fast food restaurants and newspaper shops. In my imagination I try to envision how it must have looked like when it opened in 1879. 

It's the lovely metal frame and glass roof, it's really quite iconic. The other large station in Glasgow, at Queen Street, has similar features inside, but not nearly on the same scale. Until I moved to Glasgow, I had no cause to see Central Station, as the fastest trains between Glasgow and Edinburgh run from Queen Street Station. I still remember telling MoTH "Why didn't you tell me Central Station was so beautiful?!" when I first saw it. If I told any resident "weegies" that I think Central is so lovely, they'd look at me as if I were daft, but sometimes it's all about looking up and seeing it as a construction marvel. The people in the station and on the trains, however, are another matter. As much as I like public transport, I have a great dislike of some of my fellow travellers. 

BBC Radio 2 recently had a mini debate about the eating of food on public transport. Hot and smelly food in particular. Apparently people are taking to snapping photos of the "offenders" and publishing these photos on facebook. You know, because apparently the smell of an egg sandwich can ruin someone's entire day! Boo hoo. If that is your greatest trouble in life, I hope you get reincarnated as a worker in a sandwich factory. If people are still getting limbs blown off by landmines, the rest of us don't get to complain about a smelly sandwich. Don't get me wrong, I get annoyed by a lot of things. Do I feel so strongly about it that I have to shame individuals on social media for mildly irritating me? No. There are bigger fish to fry in the world.

In early April MoTH and I had the opportunity to go see my parents in Norway! Yay! One of my mum's dogs had puppies back in February, so by the time we got there they were all fluffy and playful and adorable. It was very hard not to steal all of them, they just make you want to  love them forever!

Usually when I come back from Norway people ask me if I did much. And usually the answer is no. When I go home to visit my family, it's like when "normal" people go to their parents house for Sunday dinner. It's just that in my case it cost me a plane ticket and about half a day of travelling to get there, that's all. So it's not a "vacation" in the travel magazine sense of the word. On this occasion I did manage to snap a few shots of what they call "Salmon Stairs/Steps":

The idea is that in the salmon mating season the salmon swim upriver back to where they were born, to spawn. These stairs are put in where there may be dams, waterfalls or other hindrances to the salmon getting where they need to go. It's a pretty cool design, and pretty as well!

MoTH also caught a photo from the very bottom of the "stairs", over the river itself:

I feel like I always take photos of home when it's all misty. I promise, the sun does shine there! A lot! I just think it looks so magical, mysterious and moody, hehe. 

And now, because they are too cute to leave out: PUPPIES!

Okay, so they are asleep, but just look at them! Don't they just make you want to bundle them up and cuddle them forever? They are obviously all a bit older now, and have found loving homes, none of them with me, unfortunately. Ah, one day!

And then of course, the inevitable yearly event, my birthday! And MoTH had his the day after! We both had really great days. Actually, I think we had a really great week! Lots of well wishes, lovely and thoughtful gifts, nights out and just an overall fantastic time. MoTH got me this mug as one of my presents, and I have to say it feels like someone drew me as a pony. A disapproving, chubby (and AWESOME) pony.  I love it (because deep down I'm really a Unicorn, the fat pony is just a cover!)! 

Get Your Own! From TopatoCo

And with that, I feel I should conclude my return to blogginess! I hope to have fun and exciting news for you all soon! In the mean time, take care and enjoy the rest of your weekends (did I mention that I have Monday and Tuesday off too? hahahahaha!)!

XOXO, 

Miss Sophie

Engine Problems, or Lessons Learned from a Hospital Visit

First February Blogpost! Woo!

As many of you may have picked up, I was taken to hospital twice in two weeks due to pancreatitis caused by pernickety gallstones. I have now been discharged and am fine and well, although very tired, sore, and a little shaken by everything.

Lessons I have learned from all of this:

1. Take aches and pains seriously. Gallbladder issues can be so painful you feel like you’re giving birth to one of those chestbursters from the Alien films. A gallstone episode is sometimes known as biliary colic. If you get increasing pain in your upper abdomen (just under your chest, it is not a heart attack!) which reaches a crescendo and then diffuses slowly over the course of an hour or so, that may be the sign. My episodes have varied in terms of pain levels and how long each episode would take, but they all started with the same discomfort that morphed in to pain. The worst times I was genuinely frightened as that was a whole new level of pain. I didn’t go see my GP about these pains until after the third or fourth episode, purely because it was starting to happen on weekdays (and thus work time). Let’s pause for a moment: I waited until something was going to bother me AT WORK to seek medical help. Because apparently hurting and being in agony in my own spare time is ok? No, it isn’t. I would ask and beg all my friends, family, strangers on the street to seek proper medical attention as soon as you are able if something is not right. You know yourself well enough to know if a pain isn’t “normal”, and if something just isn’t right. Your time is just as important as “company time”.


2. As much as the NHS want us to use it, I’m not wholly convinced by NHS 24. To those who don’t know, NHS 24 is a telephone helpline for people to call up if they’re feeling a bit under the weather but can’t see their GP. During the swine flu season a lot of people were asked to call NHS 24 if they displayed flu like symptoms INSTEAD of visiting their local doctors’ practice, so they didn’t cough up their flu germs on everyone. HOWEVER, calling this number and having to go through that rigmarole when you are alone and in pain is an agony all in itself. After getting your personal details they then have to determine whether you are so ill you merit an ambulance, and if not, you get passed over to a nurse on doctor. These people can’t see you, so they can’t take your temperature, see that you’re covered in sweat and flailing like a child with colic and they certainly can’t give you any drugs to help it! “Get warm, take some paracetamol and take deep breaths” was actual advice given to me by a nurse who had ascertained that I possibly had acid reflux. When she said that, all I could think that those Gaviscon (a branded UK antacid made to combat acid reflux) adverts *really* downplayed the level of pain experienced by acid reflux sufferers. Don’t get me wrong, she did well given the extreme limitations of that service. It is, in my opinion, not an ideal service for people going through acute pain.


3. Surgery is terrifying and really cool at the same time. I went in to the theatre on Valentine’s Day. Let me tell you that exposing myself to a bunch of surgeons, nurses and anaesthetists and getting cut open was not what I had planned for that day, but it couldn’t be helped. I am slightly embarrassed to admit that I was not as brave as I had earlier let on to said surgeouns, and a tear or four escaped while I was lying under the harsh lights, listening to my own pulse racing on the heart monitor and keeping track of the ca. 5 - 6 people that I could see. That was before a nice lady doctor knocked me deeply unconscious with the power of drugs, of course. The seconds before my enforced Sleeping Beauty moment I willed myself to marvel at the miracle of science. Gallbladder removal surgery is usually done as a keyhole operation. Think about that. No one has their hands in you, 4 small cuts and some telescopic instruments are all they need. Apparently the procedure only takes about 45 minutes. My lunch break at work is 50 minutes! All that jiggery-pokery and playing peek-a-boo behind the liver, and hey presto, the gallbladder has left the building, in 45 minutes. It is deeply cool and awesome. NHS, take my money, it’s all good!


4. Be nice to porters. A totally under-appreciated group of people in the healthcare system, they are the ones who make sure you get to the right place. Going for an MRI? They’ll wheel your butt over there and back again. Going for another procedure somewhere else? No problem. Oh, changing wards? That’s fine. They spend their time wheeling people in beds and wheelchairs from place to place to let the nurses and doctors pend their time doing what they do best. Oh, and a shout out to lab techs and other unseen and unsung folk who work in the medical profession, you’re all part of the great science machine.


5. I hate morphine. The second time I went to A&E the doctor had only squeezed a minuscule 2 ml of morphine in my veins, when I grumbled and asked what on earth that was. Yes, it took away the pain, but it also took a dimmer switch to my cognitive thinking abilities. It was like someone was smothering my thoughts with a metaphysical pillow. Not to mention the nausea. While she laid off the morphine for the evening, I had a re-visit from my newfound nemesis post-surgery (apparently it’s the recovery drug of choice), which a poor surgical nurse had to witness the effects of. It may just be because I’m a control freak about… well me.. I hate being incapacitated in a way not of my own choosing. 

6. And let’s pause for a moment while I recite my ode to nurses.
Nurses are actually awesome. I know we all say this, and we all lament how underpaid they are, but they REALLY are. Don’t get me wrong, they aren’t all “nice” in the Sunshine Sally with Rainbow Sparkles kind of way, but bloody hell they do a lot of work. They are the ones who make sure you have tissues when you’ve burst in to tears in front of the 10 consultants and their minions who talk about you and not to you. They are the ones who tie your open-back (really irritating for someone who turns in her sleep, by the way!) hospital gown properly because you can’t reach the ties, and bring you lots of tea (or coffee). They dispense your medicine, turn down your bed, help you wash your face when you’re away in morphine-hell, make sure you get fed and watered, and are not bothered by various bodily functions and reactions. It was a nurse who helped me sit up and get out of bed the first time after surgery, a nurse who dressed my wounds, and a nurse who told me what to expect when going home. Being an introvert, I love the night nurses, who glide across the darkened ward and fix your saline drip while you sleep, or apologise when they wake you because they have to check your blood pressure.


7. Speaking of wards; I have a newfound admiration of the system. There’s a new giant super-hospital being built in Glasgow, which is proposing to have everyone in individual rooms. Again, the introvert in me rejoiced! I am not a-social or anti-social, I do like people, but I like to control who, when and how long. I can get over-saturated with human contact, especially around people who aren’t my family and very close friends. So the idea of being in a ward with 3 other people is a bit freaky to me. However, there was no way around it. The beds were far enough apart that we could sit happily in silence and have our naps (sweet, blessed naps!), but close enough to have an occasional chat. I am now a bit of a convert to the system, for a couple of (possibly weird) reasons. Firstly, being in isolation for prolonged periods of time can’t be good. One of the ladies in my ward had been there for over a month! Can you imagine if she’d had to sit in a room on her own all day? Second, knowing other people are in the same boat is both comforting (in the “I’m not alone in this” kind of way), and also a bit humbling. It forces you to stop thinking about you and your pain for a moment and share a sympathetic and empathetic moment to someone else’s pain. I think that’s incredibly important, not just on hospital wards, but in society in general. The moment we remove ourselves from others entirely and fail to see and acknowledge other people’s troubles, pains, joys and successes, is the moment society, in the true sense of the word, dies. But that was possibly a bit too philosophical. You can’t blame me really, I had a lot of time to sit and think!


8. Now, my last point: Having someone at home who tidied the house, went shopping for me and made me dinner on my first day home is awesome, and I am incredibly grateful to the Man of the House for the pains he has taken to take care of me! <3

A bit of a long post about something we are apparently not meant to talk about in polite society, hehe. As I’ve been signed off for 3 weeks I don’t know if I’ll have anything to really blog about, but in any case, I will endeavour to make my next post a bit more lively, hehe. But if I start blogging too much about daytime TV, please please please put me out of my misery!

Happy Halfway to Weekend and Good Health to all my readers! 

Shopping, Life, and Food!

Hi-de-ho campers!

Okay so I’m like four days late with my promised follow up blog, BUT it is still January meaning that this will be the third update in a 30-ish day period, the second post in January proper. Ha! I am awesome. ^.^

No but seriously, I am enjoying being able to write in a semi-creative way. I even managed a couple of hundred words of my novel the other day. They were terrible, but they were better than nothing. I also had a chance to look at something I had previously written and was actually able to give myself constructive criticism without telling myself things like “that is horrible, why would anyone publish that, ever? YOU SHAME ME!” So, progress is being made. I am pleased. 

This January saw me do something I never thought I would do: hit the January sales. In a big way. I mean really big. For me anyway. I have spent some portion of my adult life with very little money, so I have developed a habit of buying things on a needs-must basis. For example: I need food, so I buy it. I need a new pair of shoes because the only other flat pair I have are now broken and letting in water (an abomination I will not suffer gladly!), so I buy a new pair, etc. Buying something now for another day hasn’t really been a factor for me for a long time. It’s getting a lot better and I’m at the stage now where I can save AND buy something nice once in a while, woo! So what did I buy? Christmas things. Yes, you heard right, don’t judge me!

I was watching TV when the show Extreme Couponing came up, and it was themed specifically about the post-Christmas super sales a lot of stores (in the US) tend to have. While they may look mental, those women carted a whole load of stuff away for about half the recommended retail price. And mostly it was not luxury items, it was very methodically planned to stop them from shopping pretty much for the rest of the year (except for food, of course). My shops were much less organised, but I did manage to score some really awesome things! As I said, a lot of it was Christmas stuff. I bought about £70-£80 worth of stuff for about £35 which included baubles, cards, gift tags, a pillow (it had two turtle doves on it, I could literally not stop myself), etc. No I didn’t *need* all of it. No one *needs* a serving platter shaped like a Christmas tree, but it was adorable and now I have something cute to display my vaniliekranse (that’s “vanilla wreaths” to you non-Scandis, a lovely vanilla flavoured biscuit) on for Christmas 2014. And anywhere that sells gold and silver spray for less than £1 is a winner in my book. 

Apart from Christmas stuff I also got my very first Le Creuset item! I am so bourgeois that I would be one of those people that get killed in revolutions, so obviously I love me a bit of finery and well made products. My mum has a Le Creuset casserole dish in the original dark blue (they come in all sorts of fancy pants colours now!), and because I can’t remember when we got it, I am convinced it was forged in the primordial fires of the Earth’s creation, because that’s how long it’s lasted. It still works, it’s still awesome, and it’s still gorgeous. 

So this is my "Fennel" coloured Le Creset dish - I love it!

I also bought something to remind me of home. Royal Copenhagen are a Danish (duh) company that make stunning (and expensive) porcelain and china crockery. In addition to their traditional sets, they also make novelty style items with a yearly theme (you can see the 2013 stuff here). Last year was dedicated to The Little Mermaid, as the statue of her was erected in 1913, so it was a big anniversary! I bought the commemorative plate, but because I bought it after Christmas in the sale, I didn’t get it for the recommended retail price of £75, oh no. I bought it for £25! You could argue that no one needs a decorative plate these days, that’s old fashioned, and as it has no practical use (I wouldn’t dream of actually putting food on it!) then it’s just snobbery and a luxury. You could say that, but then I would just shrug and think you were very wrong. I need it because I am homesick and as I am set to be staying in the UK for a fair few more years, I want to have something that shows off my “heritage”, where I come from. I think it’s important, especially when it comes to settling down with a partner and making a home together.

Isn't she beautiful?

One of the things I bought in the Christmas sale was actually just sheets of coloured paper. It was obviously meant to form part of a “Oh God, please just give this paper along with some crayons to small children to get them to leave you alone!” scheme, but I knew there were destined for a higher purpose! Last year one of my friends told me about this awesome idea. The premise is that for each awesome, lovely, quaint, delightful or just-positive-in-general thing that happens to you, you write it on a scrap of paper, fold it up, and put the paper in a jar. Over the course of a year the jar with fill up with a visual reminder that life is actually okay, look at all the awesome stuff you’ve done so far! And then, at the very end of the year you tip all the paper pieces out and read them, to think about the year gone by in a really positive and uplifting way. I meant to do this last year, but was totally unorganised, and by the time I remembered it, it was May and I couldn’t remember what I had done in January! Not so, this year! Behold! 

So I basically cut strips of the paper and I write my little notes starting with the date, then what happened, and why it was awesome. So far I have included cinema trips if the film was really good, chats with friends I haven’t seen in a while, basically anything that made me go “Aww, that was really nice!”. There are no set criteria, except that it is nice, positive, or powerful in nature. Feeling down and just had a lovely mug of hot chocolate that made you feel better? Write that stuff down, and put it in the jar. I want to remember all the nice bits about this year. Also, to steal a phrase from another website (called The Everygirl), I want to make this year a “platform" year - A year of developing skills and laying the groundwork for things I will want to do next year and the year after. Basically a present to “future-me”. While I realise that I should also take care of “now-me”, I think there are ways of doing both. 

I’ve also been gluten-free (ish) for just under a month. So far… Well I never really liked bread that much anyway. Except Danish style rye bread, but I found an awesome Danish gluten free blogger who may have solved that issue for me, hooray! (for you Scandis reading, here she is: http://tante-glutenfrei.blogspot.co.uk) The world of bloggers have been immensely helpful in finding a shining glimmer of hope in the gluten-free desert. I’m finding it a bit hard though, and have slipped up a few times, because who knew that manufacturers put gluten-containing stuff in so many things?! That and I feel like such a killjoy for being the person who always says “I can’t have that” when sweets are being passed around the office. And I feel like a prat for Googling the gluten content of the custard my “mother-in-law” has made for dessert (there is none, by the way, yay for custard!). One of my colleagues was really sweet and bought me gluten free cookies. I could have cried of happiness. I don’t know if it’s just me, but when someone tells me I can’t have something, I immediately want it. I have such a craving for every kind of baked goods, it’s unreal. I want a mountain of pancakes. Luckily there are ways to make gluten free pancakes, but I’m trying not to go overboard because I don’t want to eat something just because it’s gluten free, if that makes sense? Anyway, next month I will be more organised and hopefully slip up a bit less! It’s all a learning process!

These are NOT gluten free! Boo!

These are totally gluten free! Yay!

Anywho, it’s time to put this blog post to bed. I hope everyone enjoys the rest of January, and I will probably be back in February with some new stories. Maybe. Hopefully! 

Tata for now!

My Favourite Thing - Books!

Helloooooooo! I'm back! Yes, can you believe it, two blog posts in a month. You'll see pigs flying soon, hehe!

This is more of a hold-up, slow-down, let me tell you something blog, but I promise my next one will be slightly bouncier :-P Maybe. Hopefully!

I said a while back that I would do a book "review" type thing, but with the moving and everything else it kinda got away from me. This isn't going to be a countdown, a top 10/20/40 or a critical anything, just an exaltation of the books that have really stuck with me and that I go back to time and time again. 

The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho - I read this for the first time when I was... 12, maybe? It's not really what I would call a children's book, you're more likely to find Coelho's books in a mind, body and spirit section, or even near the philosophy books. It's a story about a boy who knows what he wants, is given a task, goes on an adventure and ends up, well... Back where he started. In a good way. All of what I just said is a massive understatement. You cannot describe The Alchemist, only read it. It's one of those books that is simple enough for a child to read and understand, but when I read it now as an adult it moves me in profound ways. It's about the material world and what we want from it, the soul and what it needs, it’s also about faith and doubt, but it's not preachy and you take from it what you want. There's an element of "magical realism" in it, which I really like in South American literature. Even the foreword in the edition I have is deeply moving. His later works haven't had the same affect on me, but that's okay, this book is enough.

We'll stay in South America with some more magical realism from Isabelle Allende this time. Her debut novel The House of the Spirits is an epic family saga set in Chile pre-revolution. It centres around Clara, the youngest of a large family and follows her life and the life of her daughter and granddaughter. There are two narrators, one of which is her husband who is writing about her after her death. It is a story about people, some ordinary and some extraordinary, doing awesome, wacky and sometimes horrible things. It is critical of its characters as well as forgiving and generous. It celebrates humanity and the power of women as individuals and in communities. The author herself has become quite the activist for women's right in areas where these are lacking, and her TED talk on the matter is really powerful. If you haven't already experience the pleasure of TED talks then please Google it! There are so many fantastic talks and lectures on every topic you can imagine. Anyway, I digress. Bille August made a film version of this book, featuring Winona Ryder, Antonio Banderas, Meryl Streep (truly one of my favourite actresses) and Jeremy Irons, but it misses out a whole generation and just isn't as powerful as the book. If I had to pick just one book to read the rest of my life, this is it.

The Children's Book by A S Byatt is next on my list. This book takes us to the UK, spanning a time period from ca. 1880 to the outbreak of the First World War. It follows a group of adult bohemian types (some are a bit more "square" or traditional) who are friends and who all have children. One of them is a popular children's book authoress, and she and her husband have the largest brood of the group. The story follows the adults (who may not be as happy, free, or caring as they seem) and their children, and how they and their relationships change with the times. There's love and betrayal, unconventional decisions made by seemingly conventional people and vice versa, a wee bit of politics, scandal and all sorts. Alongside that there are little informative tidbits about the period in general almost seamlessly interwoven in to the story itself. It's a rich and indulgent book that I could do with re-reading soon. When I had finished it, I just had that 'wow' feeling, and I needed to mull it over for a while. 

The Witches by Roald Dahl is another of my favourites, in fact, pretty much anything Roald Dahl wrote was kind of awesome. I think all parents, would-be-parents and soon-to-be-parents should be required to buy and read his collected children's stories. And then read them to their children. I like how un-sanctimonious he is about kids and what little horrible devils they can be, and how hilariously clever and observant they are too. My dad read this to and with me a lot (along with Tales from Watership Down, I remember) when I was younger, and I'm really thankful for that. The film version with Anjelica Huston is actually very good too! 

Next up is Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. It's a coming of age story set in Nigeria. Our main character Kambili is the daughter of a very religious (and seemingly quite affluent and influential) man who appears to have a great disdain for his own heritage and culture. To me the books is about that moment when you realise that your parents are people, and you learn more about who they are as people, and how you may not always like who they are even though you love them. I also have such great respect for the author, who in her TED talk, spoke about the dangers of a "single story", as in the potentially one-sided view we may have of a person, a group, a nation or culture. It's an incredibly powerful talk, and I can recommend anyone to watch it! Press here to be directed to the TED talk!

David Attenborough is an icon and my hero. His autobiography Life on Air only made me respect him even more. Honestly, that book is one of the most amazing stories I have ever read. It's obviously about his career, but he also talks about the beginnings of the BBC and throws in some anecdotes from when he was a child. There's a couple of "behind the scenes" moments, and of course a lovely collection of old and new photos. It is everything you could really want from an autobiography. 

Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden is perhaps not the most amazing book in the world. So why oh why have I included it? Nostalgia, for one. I've moved around a lot, so my memory if very location based. I can tell you what house we lived in when I first read it, and roughly how old I was. I remember that I didn't understand all of it, but that this was set in a really fascinating culture. If you haven't come across the book or the film, it's a story about a girl who by unfortunate circumstance becomes a Geisha in what we now know as Kyoto (I think, my memory may be slipping). In hindsight I obviously do question how accurate a western author can be in describing a culture that is so very different, but the book certainly sparked an interest in Japan that has not faded since. 

There are so many books that I love, but the ones above just stuck on to me and never let go. I hope one day to be able to write a book that does that for other people! 

I may in future write a similar piece for films or TV movies as well. I think it’s easy to scoff at visual media, but it shouldn’t because it can produce some truly beautiful pieces of art and be just as thought provoking as literature. 

I’ll do a more general blog for you all tomorrow as well, a little treat for the weekend, hehe. 

Cheerie Byes!