237: excuse me, did you see where summer went?

Well, where did it go? This week has been very rainy – indeed, torrential at times – and there’s been a definite chill in the air in the mornings and evenings. I was even forced to wear socks while working at home on Friday which seems a step too far after last week’s warm sunshine. I’ve swapped the cats so Ted and Bailey are the upstairs ones this week, as they’re pretty much guaranteed to lie on me at night and keep my feet warm. The downside of this is opening my eyes of a morning to find the pair of them glaring at me, especially if I’ve had the temerity to sleep in past 5.30am and their breakfast is late. Teddy, in particular, likes to tap-dance on my ribs to encourage me to wake up.

In the usual manner of things, of course, I can’t find the jacket that’s been hanging around all summer, and it’s still not quite cool enough for a coat. It’s also dark when I get to the bus stop in the mornings. It does mean we can look forward to crispy autumn and winter swims soon, and Thing 2 and I had fun popping conkers on the way home this afternoon. She brought me a pocketful of conkers from a walk the other day, knowing how much I love their shiny, silky shells.

I love autumn, it may be my favourite time of year, with the forest showing off its best colours – even London’s street trees get their chance to shed crunchy plane leaves all over the place, at least until the street sweepers turn up. There’s tiny pumpkins in the garden and squirrels are parkouring around the place collecting acorns and burying them so they’ll pop up as little oak saplings all over the garden next year. We* have transplanted enough of these into pots to make a small portable forest.

*Not me, obviously. My beloved, but I admire them when he’s done it and point out new ones when I spot them.

Other things making me happy this week:

Christmas crafting – making gingerbread men and yet more tiny mice
Afternoon at Jill’s for her annual Macmillan tea party. I left before the gin was cracked open…
Colleagues who recommend good books, and library ordering systems
Another cross stitch finish and a StayPuft Marshmallow Man
My job – working in an organisation genuinely committed to EDI and understanding barriers to access both internally and externally. Kindness and respect go a very long way.

Today I am off for a morning swim, and then Thing 2 and I are off to the cinema to see Beetlejuice Beetlejuice – I was in charge of tickets and she’s on snacks, and then we’re going to go and see TT1 and the family. And then she’s in charge of dinner, hurray!

This week is new washing machine week, as Repairman 2 wrote it off. Currently when it goes into spin it sounds like its filled with cats and rocks, neither of which should be included in laundry.

Same time next week, then?

What I’ve been reading:

Murder at the Monastery – Rev. Richard Coles

The Island God – Sarah Painter

We Are All Made Of Glue – Marina Lewycka

Tricky Twenty-Two – Janet Evanovich (Audible – and a lot of live Eddie Izzard)

Real Tigers – Mick Herron

234: I thought we said Saturday

Some weeks it feels like the weekend is a long time coming. Other weeks you text your friend and say ‘still on for tomorrow?’, they come back with the title of this post and you realise it’s only Thursday and there’s still a day to go.

Not that it’s been a bad week – just long and quite productive, from chatting to the lovely Islington crowds at Angel Canal Festival on Sunday to writing a journal post about our play adventures over the summer, via a thought-provoking evaluation kick-off session, lots of spreadsheets and report writing, and the odd meeting or two.

Things Two and Three went back to school this week, and Thing 1 came back from a long weekend in Brighton and enrolled in year two of her T-level course. I am so over school now, and no longer feel the need to ensure they have new pencil cases and so on. Not because I’m a terrible parent but because they either lose them or don’t use them, preferring instead to use their blazer pockets, a random paper bag or something equally irritating at laundry time.

I, on the other hand, know the value (and joy! so much joy) of a new pencil case. I have many, including my sixth form pencil tin which has ‘Beware of the Spiders!’ on it. Today my pencil cases are scattered across project bags filled with notions and crochet hooks, or even occasionally with pencils. Every ‘Back to School’ display in WHSmiths or The Works or Hobbycraft is a temptation.

There is something magical and filled with potential about stationery: new notebooks, sharpened pencils, a rainbow of coloured pens. My favourite notebooks these days are the freebies from events and conferences with their smooth covers and elastic pen holders. For well-organised to-do lists you can’t beat a classic A4 refill pad separated into sections. And dotted and squared pages make me feel cool and creative. The V&A shop does a nice A5 hardback notebook with different sections, which feels solid and professional and classy. All my notebooks bristle with sticky markers within days, which give the illusion of organisation…

Of course, there’s also the fear of a blank page and of making a mistake on that beautiful clean page and therefore RUINING the whole book, but there we are. Perhaps this will be the notebook where you write your best essay or poem or story, or that is the pencil with which you will draw your best ever picture, or create the most magical doodle. You make a silent promise to the notebook or the new fountain pen (I love a fountain pen. I need a new one, I think) to always use your best handwriting and definitely never to tear scraps off the last page for shopping lists or bookmarks. The promise lasts at least until I make my first mistake, but it’s good while it lasts.

Things making me happy this week

Finishing the kantha-inspired bag
MANY baby cuddles on Saturday, starting with Twin 2 and moving on to The Oat (TM) over iced coffees at Gail’s…looking forward to snuggling Twin 1 tomorrow
Starting a new cross stitch small project
The Airborne Toxic Event’s new album
Fab lollies and avocados, but not at the same time
Finally starting to watch Slow Horses, which is so far living up to to the books and is filmed just round the corner from my office
Lulu Moggy coming through her bladder stone operation. She’s now feeling much better and is back to savaging small children

Today I am taking Thing 2 to the cinema for a mum and daughter day out – she offered to watch the new Beetlejuice film but I know she secretly wanted to see Despicable Me 4,m so that’s what we’re doing. There will be popcorn.

Same time next week, gang!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Smoke and Whispers/Why We Die – Mick Herron

We Are All Made Of Glue – Marina Lewycka

Four Seasons in Japan – Nick Bradley

The Skeleton Road – Val McDermid

233: this episode is brought to you by the letter B

How has it come to the end of August already? My sister is posting back to school photos of my small nephew as he heads off to his final year of primary school, Things 2 and 3 are informing me that they require bags and shoes and stuff, and I am hoping for an onslaught of schools bookings as we launch our first teacher newsletter featuring our shiny new sessions. If you happen to *be* a teacher, you can find them here.

It was also a short week, kicking off with the bank holiday. My Beloved has been gently nagging me about a HUGE and enthusiastic bramble which has been making inroads into my little patch of garden. I had noticed it, particularly as it was sending runners across the deck outside my shed in a very Sleeping Beauty’s castle fashion, but I was pretending it wasn’t there in hopes that the Blackberry Fairy would take it away. The bramble was also near the mysterious ‘ole that something has been excavating in the corner, so I grabbed a spade to put some of the earth back in the ‘ole to discourage whatever it is, some secateurs and gloves, and the green bin to put all the bits in.

The bramble was tough and invasive, and had sent very long runners out in a tentacular sort of way across quite a large chunk of my corner. Some of them were trying to take root themselves, striking out and forming their own independent thorny republics. It was a rather lengthier task than I expected, to say the least, and while I was doing it some bitey thing bit my leg twice, which made me quite thorny as well. I was talking to an NHS person a few weeks ago and she said that mosquitoes are very fond of O-positive blood – apparently we are universal donors for bitey bugs as well as people. This explains a lot. The bites were exceedingly itchy and swelled up to enormous proportions. This is why I do not do gardening.

The ‘ole, with a cameo from the bramble. Spot the bees.

The ‘ole was next. It appeared one day, and is too big for a rabbit or a rat, so we are wondering if a foxy is trying to take up residence. If so, he’d missed his chance and the ‘ole was surrounded by furry red-tailed bumble bees being very industrious. They are welcome to nest, but I did put quite a lot of earth back where it was supposed to be which they weren’t too happy about. Bees, eh?

Other things making me happy this week (mostly by not biting me)

Deciding what this year’s crochet Christmas decorations will be, starting with some very cute chilli peppers. Later versions did, of course, have eyes.
Catching up with my QB predecessor Kate and talking about rest (and cats and work!) over coffee at Bench
Taking Ian and Stacy from the V&A Academy around our new site and picking their vast brains about creative courses online and in real life
Gorgeous swim with Jill on Saturday morning
A mooch around the charity shops of Epping, scoring a couple of Marina Lewycka novels as I’m really enjoying the one I got from the library
The final day of our play project with families from The Parent House – joyous, chaotic, colourful, and a great way to introduce our local community to the site and find out what they want from us. The sun shone, Valentina is the undisputed Queen of the Snack, Thing 2 came along again, and we had an amazing day. The site has never been so colourful!
And last but not least, the arrival of A & B, aka Grandthings 3 & 4, thanks to TT1 Amy and her partner Callum. Can’t wait to meet them!

Today I can be found at Angel Canal Festival talking to people about the Centre, and hoping the thunderstorms hold off…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

The Good, The Bad and The Little Bit Stupid – Marina Lewycka

1983 – Tom Cox

The Covent Garden Ladies – Hallie Rubenhold

What You Are Looking For Is In The Library – Michiko Aoyama

Four Seasons in Japan – Nick Bradley

The Days Are Just Packed – Bill Watterson

230: there’s a nap for that

I like sleep. I’m a big fan of it, quite frankly, and am willing to embrace it at the drop of an eyelid. Lockdown was brilliant, as I was on furlough, it was really hot and I could have siestas in my hammock whenever I wanted. Weekends almost always include a good nap or two. At night I like to read a bit (until the book falls out of my hands, usually) and then snuggle down with whichever cat happens to be on hot water bottle duty until the alarm goes off.

The hot water bottle on International Cat Day this week

One of the most annoying bits about menopause – which was saying something, given the rest of the symptoms – was the constant waking up at stupid o’clock and not being able to go back to sleep, but the patches seem to have sorted that out. Sleeping with earplugs has also helped enormously. My Beloved claims that earplugs aren’t helping him as he can still hear me snoring, but he can always get his own.

However, so far no one has made a patch that reduces wakefulness due to stress (the first of our National Lottery Heritage Fund community co-design projects starts this week, and what if no one turns up? I haven’t booked the transport yet! Is the bus big enough? What if it’s a total disaster? What if no one comes to the last day which is the really important one? What have I forgotten? What if too many turn up for the bus who didn’t RSVP? Argh! ).

There isn’t a patch to deal with having an 18 year old daughter on the loose in London with her friends, either. Thing 1 has embraced raving and has been off to South London (of all places!) a few times since her birthday. I am not sure why I am more concerned with her going to Vauxhall or Lambeth than when she goes to Camden, but there we are. We give her the lecture every week: no sex, no drugs, no sausage rolls (on the basis that rock’n’roll is in short supply at raves, but there might well be a hot dog seller or a 24 hour Greggs to hand). She’s quite sensible, we think, and we know she’s got a getting home plan and she’s with her friend from the village, but STILL. It’s my job.

At this point my mother is cackling away in her little village in Gaul and muttering about karma. I see you, mother. Don’t deny it.

Things making me happy this week

A couple of evening walks with Thing 2 through the fields and woods between our village and the next. There were deer, we startled a badger on his dusk patrol up near the fishing lake, gorgeous waterlilies.
I say walk – my Achilles has been playing up so more of a hobble. Still, I made it to week 5 on the C25k before it went. However, this evening it went ‘pop’ which Google assures me is not a good sign.
A day at the Peel/Three Corners Street Party – bubbles, dogs to make friends with (including a puppy who’d never seen bubbles before and kept trying to catch them), a DJ playing excellent tunes, lots of people interested in our project.
Saturday with my gazebo, touting my wares at a local church fundraiser. Sold a few bits and bobs, talked to lots of nice people and cut out a lot of paper hexagons for an English Paper Piecing project while sitting in a pretty graveyard. I love a graveyard, as you know.
Hydrangeas flowering nicely thanks to no intervention from me
The prospect of a few days off and a new dress pattern.
Apple cakes using my mum’s recipe, making use of the windfalls in the garden.
Early doors walk with Jill on Friday, putting the world to rights and plotting dastardly deeds.
Progress on the kantha-inspired bag which I keep forgetting to take photos of.
Unputdownable books.

And that’s it from me – next week I’ll try and remember to take photos, as I’m off with a load of families to Kew Gardens. If they turn up. And if the bus is big enough.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Still Life – Val McDermid

Joe Country/Down Cemetery Road – Mick Herron

The Diary of a Secret Tory MP – The Secret Tory MP

Honeycomb – Joanne M. Harris (Audible)

The Full English – Stuart Maconie

The Covent Garden Ladies – Hallie Rubenhold

Necropolis – Catharine Arnold

229: Alexa, tell me a joke about robots

It’s Saturday evening and I am surrounded by small children jumping on and off the sofa and my stool as we run through my repertoire of counting songs, from monkeys jumping on the bed to frogs sitting on a log. We’ve exhausted Alexa’s store of jokes (turns out she doesn’t know any jokes about Transformers, much to Grandthing 1’s disgust) and all her fart noises. She’s now ‘having a rest’ (aka ‘Granny turned off the microphone’) and the kids are being kittens. The garden’s full of the Things and the Timeshare Teenagers – or Timeshare Twentysomethings now – and their partners, and various of their friends have been drifting in and out over the day as we do ‘open door’ parenting. If they know there’s a welcome for them and all their friends in easy times, they know the door will always be open when things get tough.

Our little blended family is expanding at the moment, and it brings me much joy: TT1’s partner has a little girl the same age as GT1 (they’re the ones being cats) and the pair of them are very much looking forward to being big brother and sister to the twins when they arrive in a few weeks’ time. This little girl loves Lilo and Stitch, collects snails and has an endless imagination. She’s a water baby and spent all afternoon in the pool splashing about. Turns out Grannies always have enough love to go around, although I think we’re going to need a minibus for the next family day out.

Other things making me happy this week

Airconditioning on the Elizabeth Line. Especially when the Central Line is up to its old tricks again
Running – I’m up to week five on the couch to 5k plan and while the 8 minute blocks came as a shock to the system today I still enjoyed it!
A day at the Royal College of Art with a colleague talking to the MA Visual Communications students -one of them told me that my talk had helped him decide what he wanted to do next. It’s nice to be a good influence instead of a terrible warning sometimes.
Also, they have a nice fernery in the middle of the college, with huge tree ferns, and the roof terrace has a view of the Albert Hall
Some gorgeous and much needed evening swims with Sue and a lot of ducks
Slow stitching on a felt hoop – a Corinne Lapierre kit of toadstools and ferns – at home, and on the sari silk patchwork bag on the tube.
The film of Paul Gallico’s book Flowers for Mrs Harris – they didn’t ruin it, hurray!
Sourdough crumpets – thanks to London sister Tan for the recipe, which is a winner

Now I’d better go and sort out tomorrow’s batch of bread….

Same time next week then,

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The Stones of Green Knowe – Lucy M.Boston

London Rules/Nobody Walks/Down Cemetery Road/Joe Country – Mick Herron

The Moonlight Market – Joanne Harris (Audible)

225: party like it’s 1997

So, this week was the General Election and – to no one’s surprise – the Conservatives are out and Labour are in. I don’t know about the rest of you, but to me this doesn’t feel quite as momentous an occasion as it did when Labour got in in 1997. Back then there was cake and early morning partying in the staffroom. I think, as teachers, we really believed that Tony Blair and his ‘education, education, education’ would make a difference to us – the National Curriculum (a cupboard full of files and not a single word about fun, as my teacher mentor Mr Deakin told me when I first said I was thinking about teaching) might be overhauled, the workload might be decreased, there might be some proper thinking about what children needed to know for the 21st century rather than what they needed to know to pass a SAT. They made a start with the Rose Report, and were doing great things for early years like Sure Start and the children’s centres, but all these things vanished into the ether when they got voted out again in 2010.

Perhaps we are all more jaded about politics, post-Brexit, post-Partygate, post-pandemic. Post Johnson and his constant lies and calculated buffoonery*. Post-Liz Truss and her failure to outlast a lettuce. And now, post-Sunak after his drowned rat announcement of a snap election soundtracked/derailed by D:Ream’s Labour anthem, his well-timed Euros gaffe in Wales, his inability to read a room and his total lack of understanding of life for non-billionaires in a cost-of-living crisis. Or – as I read this week – ‘cossie livs’. Dear gods. This did at least provide meme fodder during the campaign – poor Rishi and his lack of a satellite dish! When I was teaching in Hackney the kids thought I was poor as I only had five channels on my telly, so Rishi’s family must have been really broke.

The more cynical pundits have suggested that Sunak was deliberately trying to lose the election – you can’t offload a government in the way you would a business, after all, and he is at heart a businessman. Bowing out gracefully isn’t really a Tory thing, so perhaps the most he could do was call this election and hope for the worst (or the best, depending on your point of view).

The constant banging on about migrants and small boats (although legal migration dwarfs illegal by many, many thousands even post-Brexit: 29,437 illegal vs 685,000 legal in 2023) has precipitated the rise of the Reform Party resulting in the inevitable election (at his 8th attempt) of the loathsome Farage in, unsurprisingly, Clacton. The blue wall of Essex took a serious dent this week, in fact, although sadly the Conservative hold on Epping Forest and Brentwood and Ongar was maintained. Reform came in second in Brentwood and Ongar and I’ve never been so grateful to a Tory before – despite there being a credible Labour candidate and, as a first, leaflet campaigns by all the parties. Wales, bless them, have booted out all the Tories at last – perhaps they noticed the lack of funding post-Brexit when those EU roads stopped being built?

Anyway, as the song says – things can only get better, if only because they couldn’t really get worse. Also, Larry the Cat has been all over social media and he’s outlasted the lot of them.

*The sly characterisations of fictionalised politicians in Mick Herron’s Slough House series are excellent – read them!

Cover image: https://www.sadanduseless.com/funny-hedgehog-cakes-gallery/

Things making me happy this week

Using some scraps from a Bazaar grab bag and some Indian fabric to patch a bag for a try at Kantha stitching
A lovely afternoon with the extended family for Timeshare Teenager 1’s baby shower – the actual showers held off for the afternoon after 24 torrential hours
An excellent parent’s evening for Thing 2. We shall keep her another year then.
Not the football, that’s been extremely boring
A lot of reading

And that’s it for the week – hope election Santa brought you what you wanted this week! Today I am off to Cally Road Festival with our lovely illustrator and Thing 2 – please wish for good weather!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Taken – Robert Crais

Slough House/Bad Actors – Mick Herron

Down Under – Bill Bryson (Audible)

Shadowstitch – Cari Thomas

223: this week I am mostly…

…complaining about the weather. I had planned to start this blog with ‘well, it’s taken a while, but summer seems to be finally here’. And then it rained again, quite emphatically, this morning – before my run (week 1, day 3 – it’s a start) and then again while I was at the library. And then again after my lunch. Ah well. I won’t start with that then.

….saying its too warm. It’s Saturday evening and I have just retreated to the extension away from Things 1 & 2’s new YouTube playlist. It’s way too warm in the front room, and the aircon thingy is out here which is another good reason to escape. I mean, Justin Bieber? One Dimension? Ugh.

…fed up of cooking. I envy friends whose children eat everything they put in front of them, from cockles and olives to proper home cooked meals. Mine are better than they were, but you can guarantee that at least twice a week one of them won’t like whatever I’m planning to cook. These days they are big enough for me to say ‘well, make yourself something else then’. However, after a long day at work and rush hour on the baking-fires-of-hell Central Line, I have very little tolerance for put-upon teenage faces.

.. wondering WHY, if all the food I provide is ‘horrible’ or ‘just ingredients’, where does it all go? And why is it my fault when we run out? Also, if you don’t like mild cheese, don’t bloody eat it. Go and buy your own cheese and leave the mild in the salad drawer where I hid it from you.

….bemused by the sheer quantities of clothes they manage to wear, given that five days a week they’re in school uniform. I know for a fact I cleared the laundry baskets on Monday and Wednesday, so how were there another four full loads today? And my washing machine is a 9kg capacity so four loads is a LOT of laundry. Are there people in my house I don’t know about? Would *they* eat my cooking? And then I get to iron things that belong to me (I refuse to do anyone else’s.)

…not psychic. I cannot see into the fridge/coffee jar/cupboard from 18 miles away in London. Therefore I do not KNOW you have finished the milk/coffee/bread unless you tell me. Perhaps using the mobile device you’re attached to. Try the messaging function.

….not listening to messages. Do not send me a voice note to tell me about the lack of milk/cheese/coffee/biscuits. I will not listen to it. Voice mail is the work of the devil, and calling it a ‘voice note’ is not fooling anyone. Text me. Stop being lazy. Or, better still, go to the Co-op and buy the damn milk/cheese/crisps/chocolate yourself.

…feeling much better for having got that lot off my chest, thank you.

Things making me happy this week

A fun day hanging out at the Little Angel Theatre Street Party last Sunday – giant bubbles, beautiful magpie puppets, free cake. Yay! Our next event is the Cally Festival on 7 July, another big street party.
Coming home after to find Thing 2 making a quiche for dinner so all I had to do was throw salad on plates. She will eat most things – she’d made the quiche earlier in the week for Food Tech and wanted me to try it. I am all for this.
An ‘everybody in’ day at work that we spent at Roots and Shoots in Kennington – the sun was burning me at 9am so I sensibly chose the indoor option of helping put up a display for an event in the evening. Lovely to spend time away from screens and desks with such a great bunch of people. Spent some time watching a newt in the pond and met a cat.
An enormously fun commute home on Friday playing peekaboo with a very giggly toddler. He was wide awake but his Dad definitely looked like he needed a nap.
Lots and lots of sashiko stitching – definitely addicted. The skirt is finished, the bag is well underway, the pouch is all done and a panel that a lovely colleague brought me back from Japan last year is done too. I am using threads that came from a friend’s late mother’s stash, which feels right for a craft that’s all about making things last.

This week it’s my birthday and I have booked a day off – the world is my oyster. Or at least it will be once I’ve taken the cat to the vet.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Suspect/The Promise/A Dangerous Man – Robert Crais

Neither Here Nor There – Bill Bryson (Audible)

Shadowstitch – Cari Thomas

Slow Horses – Mick Herron (a most excellent recommendation from a colleague)

222 and a half: a bonus post

Anatomy of a run

Monday morning seemed like a good moment to start running again, as I quite enjoyed it and I’d like to do it again. I started Couch to 5k again in lockdown, but while my knees were fine my Achilles tendon decided it didn’t like it. Four years later, it feels like time to try again – I love walking but for a quick morning boost running is the way to go. Sounds pretty straightforward, yes? You’d think….

So, running kit on and feeling if not motivated, at least vertical, I…

tape kneecaps firmly into place
found my daps, which on inspection were looking like they needed replacing
located new daps in cupboard. Checked to see if the laces would glow in the dark because, you know, they looked like they might.
put on daps and laced up with my sister’s voice in my head…. they aren’t done up enough! Use the lock things! Thanks Tan
located running earphones
found phone. Battery on 16%. Same, phone. Same.
add watch and inform Strava that I intend to go for a run
Find favourite running playlist
opened C25k app. Phone informs me that the app is so old it might not work on my phone. Ignore warning and continue. Phone says app requires money for new license. Delete app.
Find official NHS Couch to 5k app on principle that this is healthy. Choose a coach, it says. Select Steve Cram on the principle that he probably knows what he’s doing.
Start walking accompanied by the northern tones of Mr Cram
Three minutes later. Steve Cram STILL talking. Then says we’re about to start. I have already started.
Steve Cram still talking while we are doing walking.
Yep, still talking. Beginning to regret choice of coach.
Open app and discover that while I can change coaches, there is no option to do this thing without a coach.
Delete app. Delete Steve Cram.
Remember that I liked running because it’s half an hour when no one talks to me, and that’s why I do it solo. Sorry Jill. Sorry Steve Cram.
Find new app, which has annoying electronic American woman (for some reason I picture her as Korean. Go figure) but at least she doesn’t try to motivate me other than to tell me when to start and stop running. It is the app that goes ping.
Remember I haven’t started Strava. We all know if we didn’t Strava it, it didn’t happen. Start Strava.
Do run accompanied by pings, bongs, electronic American, and excellent choice of music. Knees and ankle still attached. That wasn’t so bad.

Next run is Wednesday. Note to self….charge phone!

220: a commuter story

On Friday morning I discovered to my utter horror that I’d forgotten to charge my phone overnight and faced the prospect of a tube journey actually having to listen to other people at 6.45am. After only one cup of coffee this is an alarming prospect. There is always one person who feels the need to have a loud conversation on their mobile with someone they have presumably left mere moments earlier. There is also, inevitably, someone with an extremely irritating sniff or cough – sometimes both – who is not in possession of a tissue or, indeed, any manners. There are people who feel entitled to play their music on their phones without earphones, as if we would all benefit from their hideous musical choices. It’s never anything I would ever choose to listen to. I can only assume this is the planet-friendly 2024 version of driving around in a knackered Ford Fiesta with a dodgy exhaust and a massive speaker in the boot, as was de rigueur when I was a teenager. Tube etiquette frowns, for some reason, on throwing oneself across the aisle* and strangling people, and a deep loathing of horrible music is not considered a mitigating circumstance in the eyes of the law**. Being able to immerse myself in the sounds of my choice is really a public service.

As it turned out, Friday’s journey was worth the lack of earphones. There was a small person and his dad. Small person was full of questions and poor Dad was clearly regretting his life choices, probably because he hadn’t had enough coffee either. Peppa Pig Hide ‘n’ Seek on the ipad was not cutting it, and this was even before they got to the Natural History Museum on a rainy day in half term. Small boy was hopelessly excited at the prospect of REAL DINOSAURS and Dad was trying to check emails against a constant bombardment of ‘Is this our stop? Is this our stop? DAD, I found Pedro Pony! Is THIS our stop?? Suzy Sheep, Dad! How many more stops? Are we underground yet? When will we be underground?’ Poor Dad. After a while I took pity on Dad and helped count stations, and answered questions – What’s that on your finger? What are you making? Where are you going? My Things, these days, bring their own earphones on the tube and don’t ask me questions any more – in fact they prefer to pretend I am not with them until we get off the tube and they need the Oyster card.

My absolute favourite moment, however, was when he threw his arms round his dad, gave him a huge squeeze and shouted ‘DADDY! DADDY’ (plaintive ‘whaaaaattttt’ from Daddy)…. ‘I’VE NEVER HUGGED YOU ON A TRAIN BEFORE, DADDY!’ The gentle ping of stony little commuter hearts melting was practically audible.

*also, you’d lose your seat. It’s fierce on the Central in rush hour.

**Law, schmaw. The rest of the carriage would probably help me.

Other things making me happy this week

Finally visiting the Barbican Conservatory, for a celebration of their project with Headway East London, a brilliant charity for people with acquired brain injuries. It was like those pictures of concrete cities that have been taken over by the jungle. I liked it a lot
A really useful strategy meeting. Adding 70s & 80s rock stars, Prince and Harry Styles to my powerpoint entertained me, at least, and people got extra points for recognising Journey.
A partnership event with the Museum of the Order of St John and our lovely illustrator Grace Holliday exploring ‘Fabulous Ferns’.
Coffee with Amanda and her Thing 3 on Thursday morning
The new series of The Outlaws and a ludicrous new episode of Midsomer Murders

Today I am off to Copped Hall with all those crochet toadstools and cacti!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The Sentry/Indigo Slam/L.A. Requiem – Robert Crais

Bridgerton 1-7 – Julia Quinn

The Lost Continent – Bill Bryson (Audible)

219: you are entering the Twilight Zone

As it turned out, all the weirdos were lying in wait for full moon week before lurching out of the woodwork to talk to me. I thought we’d gotten away lightly last week. Perhaps they don’t venture south of the river.

Whatever, they certainly latched onto me this week, virtually every time I found myself waiting for buses.

On Tuesday afternoon, on my way back from work, I had just missed a bus and with time in hand before the next week I was quietly reading my book, listening to music (The Airborne Toxic Event, if you’re interested) and enjoying the sunshine. A man asked me if the Harlow bus had gone (yes), we briefly chatted about the weather (nice) and then he left me alone. This is my preferred method of conducting a bus stop conversation. Mere moments later a man in a raincoat sidled up to me and started expounding on his idea that London Transport should build a multistorey car park with a new station underneath it so that the Epping Ongar Railway could have the the old station and run trains to Epping*, and the Central Line could run into the new station and there would still be places to park. Three times he told me this, despite my initial polite but noncommittal nods, the fact that my earbuds were still in and I was trying to emanate ‘GO AWAY’ vibes. And then he informed me that he was wearing a raincoat because even though it was sunny it was going to rain, whipped out his phone and proceeded to show me his radar map to prove it. At this point it must have sunk in that I really, really wasn’t interested and he wandered off. Harlow bus man said he thought I knew him and by the time he realised I didn’t and might need rescue it was too late.

Moments later, having failed to find anyone else to talk at, he circled back towards me and I went and hid behind someone else. I’m not even sorry.

Wednesday morning – again, earbuds in place and this time trying to do my Duolingo lessons – a woman on the bus stop in the village finished a phone call and decided that as I was the only other person on the stop that it would be fine to tell me all her woes (of which there were many, principally caused by her unhelpful brother and sister-in-law and possibly the people not fitting her new double glazing). I did not want to hear her woes. I have seen her around the village, usually accompanied by her woeful-looking husband, but have never spoken to her before and she isn’t even the type of person who says good morning to the other people on the bus stop on a normal day. This is a state of affairs I would have been happy to see continue. What if she now continues to speak to me whenever she sees me? Fortunately the bus was very busy when it arrived and she found another person to tell all her woes to.

The man who approached me as I was waiting for the #4 bus from Archway back to the office later that morning got short shrift from me, I can tell you.

*Actually this is not a bad plan. But still.

Things making me happy this week:

A new haircut
Studio Ghibli characters on signage at Whitechapel Station
A great afternoon with the London East Teacher Training Alliance cohort – always one of my favourite visits (been doing these for well over 10 years now!). This year I took along the wonderful story teller Olivia Armstrong and the Coat of Many Pockets, and we explored sequential illustration and sensory story telling inspired by Quentin Blake’s Angelica Sprocket’s Pockets. Warm, joyful, energising – ‘I didn’t look at the time once, I can’t believe it went so fast’.
Friends (always, but one pair went above and beyond last Sunday morning)
The library reservation service
Seeing not one but four Dakotas flying over the village, before a visit to Duxford next weekend and then a trip to Normandy for a parachute drop on the D-Day anniversary

This week marks the start of a summer of popping up at various festivals and street parties in Islington, armed with an illustrator and making our presence felt in the borough as we start the journey towards opening. So exciting!

See you next week,

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

Stalking the Angel/Lullaby Town/Freefall/Sunset Express – Robert Crais

Necropolis – Catharine Arnold