245: I predict a riot

Saturday night – post-writing of the blog – degenerated into a noisy card game called Sussed where we proved that we all know each other way too well (yes, family, the best invention for me would indeed be a remote control to stop people talking!), a hot tub complete with cheese buckets as we didn’t think the cheeseboard would float, and much listening to tawny owls squawking in the trees around us, possibly in hopes of us sharing the cheese.

On Sunday I walked the Christchurch to Symonds Yat Rock trail in blissful solitude as I knew there was going to be an extremely peopley week ahead. There were deer and evidence of the wild boar, though none came into sight, and some excellent dogs to make friends with. Tan and Jane caught me up at the viewpoint, and a very confident robin hung around for a while.

In the afternoon I headed up to Manchester to be an operations lead for the World Skills UK National Finals. I remembered not to change at Crewe for Preston – Crewe station was as gloomladen as ever – and Miriam picked me up from Piccadilly and dropped me at my hotel. I was quite concerned that there was a chain on the inside of the door but not as concerned as I was when I noticed it had been smashed through at some point. The bathroom door handle came off in my hand but that seemed less worrying…

I had dinner in the ‘Pub and Grill’ which was possibly the noisiest hotel restaurant I have ever been in. ‘A good time guaranteed’ is the strapline, and if you like football being blasted at you from three massive screens this may indeed be the case. This is not my idea of a good time, which would be a lot quieter and probably involve being allowed to read a book. Still, the cheeseburger stack was excellent.

There was NOTHING on the television so I ended up watching What We Do In The Shadows on iPlayer, crocheting tiny Christmas jumpers and having an early night.

Monday came, and despite the state of the door I had survived the night. Breakfast was anaemic bacon with grilled tomatoes, large flat mushrooms and toast, and then I had to negotiate the Manchester public transport system to get to the day’s venue. The tram was very exciting, the buses less so – one went out of service and the other was on a long diversion so the journey took an hour. The possibility of snow was in the air, with up to 10cm predicted, so we were all slightly worried that no one would be able to get to Manchester the following day. Over the day I clocked up 17,000 steps, mostly between floors as I put all the competition things in the right classrooms. My packed lunch had been delivered to the other site, so I made a dash to the local Greggs – no corned beef and potato pasties! What is the north coming to? I had Asian-style salmon fishcake for dinner, followed by a M*A*S*H four-episode marathon on the TV and yep, more crochet. I was told ‘you seem very capable’, which is nice if somewhat patronising – I’m not employed for decorative purposes, after all!

Tuesday began with a sprinkling of snow, far from the predicted 10cm, but it was apparently enough to stop the bread deliveries. The hotel had no bread or waffles, and breakfast carbs were represented by only a few stale croissants and no jam. I was seriously considering rioting , probably joined by the hordes of dismayed Cadent, Fire and Rescue Service and other van-based service people also looking for carbs. Coco Pops and a stale croissant with honey had to do instead of Marmite on toast.

Most of the morning was a stark reminder of how much I hate spreadsheets, especially those which are not sorted! The whole day, in fact, was a chaos of spreadsheets – I have some strong opinions on how these can be better organised, to say the least. The reception in the evening, catered by the hospitality and catering students at the college, was great – excellent cheeseburger sliders, battered fish on giant chips, caramelised onion and goats cheese tarts, and tiny caesar salads on little gem leaves.

Wednesday was bitterly cold but sunny – but they had bread for toast and Marmite in the morning so I was quite well-disposed towards the world. The morning was quieter as almost everyone had registered the day before. I was in charge of group photos, so spent some time herding the teams into their t-shirts and posing nicely. They don’t seem to understand that not everyone can be at the back…. I had a good natter in the morning with fellow Welshman (from Penarth) Mark, who was in charge of the results process. I ended up doing several tours with various groups of people, escorting them around the competitions – I suspect that while our comps aren’t very exciting to watch, they will have some lovely outcomes from Graphic Design and Digital Media Production! I like the fact that the briefs for these mark on soft skills and problem-solving as well, as these are quite useful attributes in the real world.

Dinner was a very salty pizza with Miriam at my hotel, followed by more M*A*S*H and crocheting of tiny mitten ornaments.

Thursday began with toasted waffles, although the item missing from the menu that day was maple syrup so I had to make do with honey again which is not the same at all. In the cab ride from the hotel to the venue I listened to the competitors (from two different digital media production teams) discussing their strategy for the day and a competitor from another team who was apparently trying to get them to form alliances to take other people down. He was, according to them, too tall (but in a weird way) and in his neon blue jacket and red hat bore a striking resemblance to Papa Smurf.

The catering students produced another excellent buffet lunch, this time aimed at teenagers on a tour of the competitions: pizza, fried chicken, sausage rolls and cheese and potato pastry, pasta salad and sandwiches. The visiting students were certainly appreciative of their efforts.

The relief on the competitors’ faces as they arrived back in the restaurant as they finished their tasks was huge – even the Cyber Security team were positively chatty for a change. I learned about Sigilkore and how much it is to get into a club in Ibiza, for a start! One of them had had their 18th birthday on Day One of their competition so they were telling me about their adventures in Manchester that night. By the end of the competition days I’d spent a lot of time with the teams and had got quite invested in what they were doing.

Snow started coming down hard about 6pm, as I was waiting for the last of the teams to finish and for all the judges to complete their marking – it was freezing as it hit the ground so the trek back from the tram stop to the hotel was interesting. Dinner was a burger and salad, and I treated myself to a ‘Frozen Hot Chocolate’ dessert as I think I had earned it. No crochet, as I’d started a new book the night before and I was hooked. It’s called Witherward, and it’s excellent – an alternative London peopled with warring magical factions, highly recommended. (Turns out there is a sequel, which is excellent news)

On Friday I was sent to the other college campus to look after the final day of activity, so after breakfast (cereal and fruit, and Marmite on toast) I skated back to the tram stop and found my way over to Beaufort Road where the engineering competitions were being held. I had a hug from a robot, and scored a rather nice Middlesex Uni fleece which was much needed on a very cold day!

The site was clear of kit by early afternoon so I hopped on the tram* to central Manchester to check into another hotel before the medal ceremony that evening – this time, the Leonardo where they put me on the sixth floor. The room was compact but I was so tired all I needed was a bed.

The ceremony was at Bridgewater Hall and I was tasked with the helpdesk, checking in guests and people who despite many reminders still managed to forget their lanyards. One very breathless family turned up saying their son was due to play the euphonium in the band at 7pm, and were insistent it was at the Bridgewater Hall – it transpired that they actually needed to be at the Manchester Hall on Bridge Street, and there was no way they were going to make it.

I managed to watch the medal ceremony until ‘my’ competition winners had been announced – I got quite emotional when G, a Cyber Security competitor, was awarded the gold medal. He was so painfully shy, and it turned out he had been working full time and studying at the same time – he got very emotional backstage – his family were all watching online. And then his flight back to London the following day was cancelled due to Storm Bert and I think it was the final straw. I was unable to resist telling them ALL how proud I was of them…

Miriam and I made it back to the hotel with ten minutes to spare before the restaurant closed -I had steak frites, and it was very good. And then I slept…..after breakfast (no mushrooms or Marmite!) we leapt in the car and braved Storm Bert to head down the motorways in time for Miriam to meet some friends at the Tiptree Team Room while I wandered round the rather disappointing ‘craft village’.

Either the cats have missed me or my reappearance triggered their dinnertime clock, but they were the first to greet me at the door. I think everyone missed me….

*I find trams good in theory and they were a novelty but I have decided I do not like sharing the road with them. It’s weird.

Things making me happy this week:

  • Snow. I love snow.
  • M*A*S*H. I love M*A*S*H.
  • Uninterrupted evening reading. I love reading.
  • Not getting on the tube for a week.

So this week it’s back to the day job, where I’ll have to look at emails and make my own packed lunches. Still, it’s been great to stick my head over the parapet again, to make some excellent new contacts across the UK and talk to some FE lecturers about National Illustration Day. Next weekend is the first of this year’s Christmas markets so I’d better get on with things!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The End of the Matinee – Keiichiro Hirano

The Last Words – Elly Griffiths

Witherward/Wayward – Hannah Mathewson

244: scrappy tits and chunky squirrels

This week I am coming to you live from the Forest of Dean in darkest Gloucestershire, where we have spent the morning sitting in the hot tub watching nuthatches, tits (blue, great and coal), blackcaps, robins, blackbirds and some cheeky squirrels stuffing their faces with birdseed. We’re here to celebrate Tan’s upcoming big birthday at Forest Lodges near Coleford.

Tan knew we were joining Jane and Sal (last seen on a beach in Aberporth a few weeks ago) but wasn’t expecting cousin Hev and Irish sister Steph to be here waiting for her either. We’ve been plotting this for months. Tan is not very good at surprises at all, and has packed for every eventuality, including four – four! – first aid kits and a number of hats. She gets quite grumpy about things, you see, and she’d only been given a short packing list.

After a giggly, slightly boozy pizza dinner followed by Sal’s layer cake, Hev, Sal and I tried out the hot tub under the light of the supermoon. The lodge has three bedrooms, and these were distributed according to how badly each of us snores and whether we were likely to get up early or not. Jane and I, as we’re guilty of both, bunked in together (with our earplugs) and sure enough we were up just after six and out for a walk in the forest at seven. I found Tan on the sofa when I got up as Steph is apparently now a snorer…

We followed the walk with coffee in the hot tub, watching the birds flying in and out snatching seeds from the deck and being menaced by squirrels attempting to help themselves to dregs of coffee. Breakfast was very late, with much toast and boiled eggs and watching the birds out of the window.

Saturday afternoon saw the gang head over to Puzzlewood, an ancient woodland near Coleford where the Romans used to mine for iron ore.

Nature has reclaimed the area in spectacular fashion, with fantastical mosses and rock formations. It’s a temperate rainforest and ancient woodland, and paths were laid in the early 19th century to make a tourist attraction. It’s been used for filming Doctor Who, Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Merlin and lots of other stuff, as it’s such a unique landscape. We stashed Steph and her broken foot in the cafe while we explored, had a good wander round all the paths with MANY photos taken on the way round. Autumn has got itself together at last, so the colours in the trees were gorgeous too.

Both Tan and I spent a lot of time in the Forest as teenagers with various friends and boyfriends, so we know the area well. My first ‘proper’ date was to see Buster at Coleford Cinema (yes, we had to cross the border to get to our closest cinema). It’s so lovely to be back here with all the cousins, too, and we’re getting better at doing more of this!

Other things making me happy this week

  • Coffee and cake with Sue and the Bella-dog
  • Babysitting for TT2’s little one so she could have a night out – I’d forgotten the joy of a warm sleepy baby snuggled on your chest. The midnight Sesame Street binge when he woke up was also fun – he’s a big fan of Elmo, it turns out

Today I have to hop on a train from Hereford to Manchester to work at the World Skills UK National Championships. This is the train I used to catch when I was at uni in Preston so I just need to remember not to change at Crewe.

Next week I’ll be back in sunny Essex and gearing up for National Illustration Day on Friday 29th. See you then!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The Kamogawa Food Detectives – Hisashi Kashiwai

More Days at the Morisaki Bookshop – Satoshi Yagisawa

Fortune and Glory/Game On/Going Rogue – Janet Evanovich (Audible)

We Solve Murders – Richard Osman (Audible)

At The End Of The Matinee – Keiichiro Hirano

The Last Word – Elly Griffiths

Wild City – Florence Wilkinson

243: if he worked on a checkout this would never have happened

Suspension of disbelief or willing suspension of disbelief is a term coined in 1817 by the poet and aesthetic philosopher Samuel Taylor Coleridge, who suggested that if a writer could infuse a “human interest and a semblance of truth” into a fantastic tale, the reader would suspend judgment concerning the implausibility of the narrative.

Suspension of disbelief often applies to fictional works of the action, comedy, fantasy, and horror genres.”

Dear readers, this is my text for the week and the reason I spend a lot of time wishing to strangle my Beloved. Obviously I love him dearly, and he tolerates my snoring and the fact that my cooking is usually singed as I’m so easily distracted, but he does have one terrible habit.

Recently I have been watching Sons of Anarchy – I like the soundtrack so I thought I might enjoy the series. It has Ron Perlman and Katey Sagal and Jimmy Smits and Henry Rollins and other good people in it. It has redemption arcs and romance, and while I want to tell Charlie Hunnam to pull his trousers up I am, indeed, enjoying it. Yes, it’s all about a biker club who are – by their own admission – breaking the law and generally not being very nice people but (and this is an important but) it’s a work of fiction and thus requires the suspension of disbelief. This is the whole point of fiction.

What, I hear you ask, does this have to do with wishing to strangle my Beloved? Surely he is also enjoying it? After all, there were seven series so it must have had something going for it. Make yourselves comfortable and I shall tell you all…

My Beloved, bless his little cotton socks, can be positively transported by hours and hours of hairy-footed hobbits, orcs, appalling space operas like Zack Snyder’s truly bloody self-indulgent and awful Rebel Moon I and II (which he is watching again, and if anything didn’t need a director’s cut it was that), smug pointy-eared blonds elf-splaining Elven lore via inescapably dire scripts like Amazon’s latest Middle Earth epic, Vikings with suspiciously perfect teeth, and Korean zombies/demons/spirits from the vasty deep. He waits with bated breath for the next series of all these things and insists on rewatching the previous series before starting the new one. This can get wearing, especially when he rewinds a bit in case he missed something important in this series he’s watched before. Bear in mind, please, that he frequently cannot remember that he’s seen the film at least twice before, until something completely minor happens and it brings back total recall. I call these his Father Dougal moments.

He cannot, however, watch a single moment of SOA without loudly critiquing their every move for not being realistic. They made their choices, he says. They are criminals and her husband was a criminal so of course she was killed! Live by the sword, he declares. Die by the sword! She is an accessory after the fact! Guilt by association! She is aiding and abetting! Why does no one come and shoot them at home? I, on the other hand, accept that it’s fiction and not a moral fable, at that, and am happy to see where the story goes*. If I wanted a factual account of biker gangs in California I would be watching a different programme on a different channel: I don’t, so I’m not. He also argues with Midsomer, most other crime dramas and – actually – most of my other TV choices on the same basis, up to and including Doctor Who. He says these things loudly and in a tone of mild outrage and disbelief, as if fiction is not allowed to be unrealistic. This, dear reader, is why I am the patient, tolerant being that you all know and love. It’s the act of not strangling him for twenty years.

*My main question about SOA is how Katey Sagal hasn’t changed a bit in 30 years and looks younger now than she did in Married with Children in 1987.

Things making me happy this week

  • Taking part in the Miller Knoll Day of Purpose on Tuesday, helping them prep for a community event in December. Cutting and sticking and making stuff! Fabric galore! A tour of their showrooms! Excellent chairs!
  • A five mile walk on Saturday morning – no baby cows but a happy pig snuggled up in his straw bed and a friendly cat.
  • Starting the countdown to National Illustration Day with a series of weekly challenges
  • The end of the anticyclonic gloom being in sight – can we have some sunshine now please?
  • Tea and a catch-up with Miriam
  • A Saturday sticking PDF patterns together and cutting out fabric to sew up on Sunday, painting boxes for my stall and making a new sign
  • See the works on site underway – sh*t’s getting real….
  • Putting my pixie hat on and getting the office Secret Santa underway…

And now it’s sewing time!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Babes in the Wood/The Ghost of Ivy Barn – Mark Stay. Also The End of Magic by him but it was so awful I returned it. Luckily it was on Kindle Unlimited.

Unruly – David Mitchell

Wild City: |Encounters with Urban Wildlife – Florence Wilkinson

Twisted Twenty-six/Fortune and Glory – Janet Evanovich (Audible)

242: not a dolphin in sight

Well, here I am back in a cloudy Essex after a week in cloudy (but not cold or rainy) West Wales. No dolphins or seals this year, but we still had a lovely time once we’d recovered from the drive down. Today’s cover photo shows the cottage we stayed in – the blue one! – taken from the beach so you can see how close we were.

Sunday started with an early solo dip, accompanied by a rather insouciant cormorant ducking and diving near the rocks. I named him Kevin, and he didn’t seem to mind. The water all week was around 14 degrees, and completely flat – not a wave to be seen.

At lunchtime our cousins Jane and Sal (last featured in this blog when we did Race to the Stones) arrived in Sal’s camper van Hetty. After coffee and things with chocolate on we headed back to the beach for an explore: Thing 2 was keen on rockpools and we found Thing 3 en route. He was all about the solo walks, as apparently he doesn’t like walking with ‘old people’.

We wound up the day with a family swim, even convincing Jane to come in although I am not sure she enjoyed it! Sunday dinner was cooked by Tan (with prep assistance from Thing 2 and I, in the shape of vegetable peeling and chopping. There was a gadget for doing julienne veg but not a peeler, so it took a while and a lot of mangled carrots) complete with amazing Yorkshires and cauli cheese.

Monday started with an early dip with Tan and Sal (Jane hung out on the beach and made friends with dogs). Despite the drizzle, once we’d warmed up we took the coast path to Tresaith to see the waterfall. We had lunch in the Ship Inn watching people fly kites on the beach and then walked back to Aberporth in the sunshine. Thing 2’s geography learning has had practical applications this week as she talked about erosion and meanders, and compared the caravan site to a favela (I’m sure they’d be delighted!)

On Tuesday, leaving the kids with strict instructions to stay out of the sea, off the cliff path and to get a chippy lunch (Thing 2 had popcorn cockles again), Tan and I headed back down to Raglan to say goodbye to an old family friend, Little D, who for a tiny person will be leaving a big space in the world. We spent many holidays in Wet Wales with her and her family, watching them attempt to put up their caravan awning and find a signal on the telly. The memorial service was lovely, an outpouring of memories and lots of laughter as well as tears. We had coffee in the Beaufort Arms before, where we met a group of elderly ladies chatting away in Welsh. One of them liked my hair colour, so we ended up chatting to them as well.

Poor Tan got sleazed at by the local barfly – honestly, I leave her alone for five minutes and a disgraced politician hits on her.

We called in on lovely Faye who fed us banana bread and tea (hello Faye!) and marvelled at the fact that the Wicksteed horse is still in the park despite it being quite lethal. The drive back was foggy and autumnal – the trees had turned in just a few days, and were showing off gorgeous oranges and yellows.

On Wednesday I hopped back in the sea first thing, and then we went to Cardigan where we wandered round the town. There’s a lot of crafty gift shops, and the town felt busy and buzzy. We had lunch in The Fisherman’s Rest, where Thing 2 ate crab and Thing 3 ate a lot of cheese.

In the evening we had a message from Mum to tell us that one of our favourite writers, who had become a friend of hers over the years, had died. Phil Rickman wrote atmospheric crime novels set in and around Herefordshire and Glastonbury, and we always looked forward to new books. If you haven’t read his novels you’ve missed out.

Thursday took us to Aberaeron, where the harbour is mostly inaccessible while they reinforce the walls and improve the flood defences. After a wander we headed up into the hills to Bwlch-Nant-yr-Arian to see the red kite feeding. Thing 3 had stayed in Aberporth as his toes were hurting, so we did one of the walking trails and then had pasties in the visitor centre before making our way down to a bench to watch the kites being fed. A few crows have taken to chancing their arm (wing?) for a share of the chicken pieces while the kites are still feeding. I hope that Natural Resources Wales keep this centre open, as it’s so well used by walkers, cyclists and geography students from Wolverhampton as well as the kites themselves. On our return we coaxed Thing 2 into a wetsuit and headed in for a dip.

Friday kicked off with a dip for Thing 2 and I, and then we headed back to Aberaeron with Thing 3 in tow as well. We bought pasties from Y Popty and went back down the coast to New Quay for lunch on the quayside, where we were watched intently by a hopeful seagull and a jackdaw. The dolphins and seals were nowhere to be seen, so we had an excellent ice cream and went down to Mwnt for a walk – we visited the tiny church and climbed the mwnt, then went down the steps to the beach. I love the waterfalls that parallel the stream, and the little wagtails that skip around them.

In the evening we went to the local Indian restaurant for dinner, which was delicious but also entertaining – the waitress is very local and was carrying gossip from table to table. Asking for dessert came as a surprise to them – quite possibly no one had wanted one for a while!

The drive home was much more straightforward than the drive down: we knew the A40 was closed again and so hit the M4. Less scenic but behaving itself for a change! And now back to work we go on Monday….

Things making me happy this week (other than holidays):

  • Helping out behind the bar at the annual school & Scouts firework display – I love fireworks, and this is always a great village event.
  • Working on a jigsaw with Thing 2 (we didn’t finish it so we’ll have to do it again at Christmas!)
  • Not politics, which seems to be loopy all over the place.
  • Not having to get on public transport of any kind.

And that’s it! See you next week.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The Spellshop – Sarah Beth Durst

Our Lady of Mysterious Ailments/The Mystery of Dungevan Castle – TL Huchu

The Crow Folk – Mark Stay