Category: General musings

208: so, what do you want to be when you grow up?

So here we are at week 208 – four years of me rambling (physically and literarily), reading, making stuff, working, swimming and anything else that’s taken my fancy., Happy birthday to WKDN once again. 11,688 people have visited my little corner of the internet, which is pretty cool – thank you, especially to those people who drop in every week to see what I’ve been up to. Some of them aren’t even related to me!

Does this make me a writer of sorts? There’s certainly been a lot of words. 214,103 to be exact. Some of them have been quite cross and some of them have been airyfairy and about mushrooms and flowers and things, and a lot of them have been about various crafts. Some of them may even have made people think about things differently – I hope so, at least.

At one point in my life I wanted to be a writer, but the trouble was I didn’t know what I wanted to write about, and as it turned out I accidentally fell into a career I rather liked so that worked out quite well.

I’ve been thinking a lot about careers recently thanks to a couple of events I’ve taken part in: one for Year 10s with Inspire, our local Education Business Partnership, and one for undergraduate Education Studies students at the University of East London, but both aimed at helping various levels of students think about their career choices post-education. I’ve just signed up to the latter’s professional mentoring programme, in fact.

When I do these events we’re always asked to talk about our ‘career paths’ and in the last year or so there’s been a focus on non-traditional paths to the workplace – less of the narrow academic routes and more about apprenticeships, traineeships. Definitely less of the ‘I got 3 A*, went to Oxbridge/insert Russell Group uni of choice, got the job of my dreams and now I have a house, 2.4 kids and a dog called Volvo’ career path. I do see some of those people still around – one engineer telling students that they have to do a degree or they won’t get a job, for example, which in the middle of a white working class council estate in depressed post-Ford Dagenham isn’t really the most helpful advice in these days of student debt.

I was on a panel the other day with someone doing youth work and marketing, and he was really open about the fact that he’d dropped out of university having made a mess of his first year, and his dad made him get a job. The job turned out to be in youth work, and he loved it – so he went back to uni with a purpose and now is doing amazing things. He also had an excellent hat.

Another event saw me talking to an environmental scientist who wishes she’d gone down the apprenticeship route as she’d have entered the workplace with practical experience rather than a lot of theory. Her job, on the Tideway Tunnel project, seems mostly to involve telling the construction workers off for throwing mitten crabs back in the river.

The panel event at UEL was essentially for opening up the students’ horizons about the different careers in education: as well as the marketing youth worker, there was a teacher and someone who works in outreach in the Home Office. I always like to describe my career as accidental, as the move out of teaching came as a result of an Inset Day arranged (coincidentally) by the very EBP I did the school event with a few weeks ago. I like these circular moments.

We inevitably get asked at some point what advice we’d give to people starting out, and mine is invariably to take every opportunity you can as you’ll always learn something useful. A range of handy teaching skills, for example, actually came from working behind a bar and clearing people out at closing time. Be curious about all the people around you and what they’re doing – getting the whole picture of an organisation helps you work as a team, and builds relationships. I mean everyone, from the cleaners upwards – make friends, ask them how they are. No one is too low or too high to say hello to. Play nicely, and – this is my current office bugbear – always put your cups and teaspoons in the dishwasher.

Other things making me happy this week

  • Interesting online meetings about working with young volunteers and Bradford City of Culture
  • A surprise birthday breakfast for Rachel at the lake after a chilly swim
  • Good progress on the current cross stitch
  • Visit from Timeshare Teenager 2 and Grandthing 2
  • Coffee and world-righting with Amanda
  • Still watching Silent Witness. We’re up to series 15!
  • A visit to the Foundling Museum with a colleague
Courtroom ceiling at the Foundling

Same time next week then 🙂

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

The Rules of Magic/Magic Lessons/The Book of Magic – Alice Hoffman

The Wild Rover – Mike Parker

At Home – Bill Bryson (Audible)

Killing the Shadows – Val McDermid

206: a right pain in the neck

This week has been mostly notable for a migraine which has been sulking and stropping around since Tuesday, making its presence felt in a variety of unpleasant ways. Quite apart from the pain, a full-on migraine comes accompanied by visual disturbances, nausea, light and sound sensitivity, shakes and – joy of joys, these days – hot flushes which are a new and entirely unwelcome addition to both the menopause and the migraines.

The migraine landed on Tuesday night and I beat it into submission with painkillers, heat packs and an early night, and then (thinking I was winning) I went to work on Wednesday morning. The Central Line, which at the moment is a portal into the deepest pits of hell (and no, I am not exaggerating) was crowded, hot and delayed. By the time I got to work the side-effects were back with a vengeance and the pain was gearing up for round two, I went home after a couple of hours and took to my bed, which helped, but I’ve had to be careful with my choice of activity for the rest of week.

I’ve had migraines since my late teens, occasionally triggered by food and drink (red wine, white wine and lager – halfway down the first glass, which effectively ruins an evening out; strong cheese; too much dark chocolate – all classic triggers). Sometimes they’re hormonal, sometimes stress-related; sometimes they just turn up for no good reason whatsoever. They’re exhausting, and the really bad ones leave you knocked out for several days and feeling fragile. Painkillers take out the pain, but not the rest of the symptoms – over the years I’ve tried all sorts of thing, like Migraleve and Syndol when they strike; amytriptyline which didn’t work; a nasal spray containing ergotamine which came with a long list of side effects including death, so I didn’t use that much; Tiger Balm, Kool’n’Soothe, heat packs, Deep Freeze gel, and right now I have my neck on an acupuncture pillow which is spiky but effective. It would be nice to find something that worked consistently but so far no luck. Everyone seems to have their own ways of dealing with theirs – currently I take Paramol alternating with Ibuprofen, use Tiger Balm on my temples and a heat pack or cold gel on my neck – I have seen something that recommends a bag of frozen peas on your neck and your feet in a bowl of hot water, but that seems complicated at a time when even thinking in single syllables is a challenge.

Things that were better about the week…

  • Interesting meetings – the Participatory Arts Network and a friendly rabbi
  • A great walk in the chilly sunshine with Toby and Loki the Weimaraner on Saturday morning – we anticipated squirrels and rabbits but the geese were a surprise!
  • Finishing the cross stitch that’s been on my frame for about a year and kitting up the next one
  • Finishing the scarf I’ve been crocheting on the train
  • A bit more attempting to draw – this time I liked the bricks but I need to learn about perspective and things. Somewhere I have a book but it’s hiding from me!
  • The Naked Marshmallow Company’s salted caramel gourmet flavour (thanks Tan)
  • Thing 2’s lemon and cranberry biscuits

I am off for a swim this morning for the first time in a couple of weeks – let’s hope I haven’t lost my acclimatisation!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Threadneedle – Cari Thomas

Silver on the Tree – Susan Cooper (Audible)

Neighbours from Hell?/The Wild Rover – Mike Parker

200: surprise!

Here we are at post number 200, which is quite a lot and probably I should look back at the last 200 weeks and be all marvelly at what I’ve achieved. 200 posts is what I have achieved, despite Covid, labyrinthitis, new jobs, children, and general life happening all at the same time. Thanks to all of you who have been with me since the beginning (hello Mum, hello Dad, hello Fi), and to everyone else who’s dipped into my ramblings, roamings and adventures with the sewing machine.

Anyway, this week I am coming at you from a cold but sunny Brittany, where London sister and brother-in-law and I rocked up on Friday evening to surprise my mum for her significant birthday. I can’t tell you how old she is as she may make me sleep in the garden. Dad had managed to keep the secret, even sneakily making up the beds, hiding the extra baguettes in his office and putting the fizz on ice without Mum noticing.

A snowy coffee
Winter fun in Le Shuttle terminal

Having left Ealing at 6am for a morning Eurotunnel crossing, we made good time across a snowy Normandy and a not-snowy Brittany – spotting the dozens of birds of prey, deer and trees full of mistletoe (at least while I wasn’t snoozing) and only running into a bit of traffic on the Rennes rocade where a combination of roadworks and rush hour conspired against us. At 7.10 Tan dropped me off at the bottom of the drive so Mum wouldn’t hear the car, and clutching the magazine featuring Irish sister Steph* I knocked on the door. Dad had apparently delayed their dinner as long as possible, so when the door went he said he hadn’t finished and made mum get up. She opened the door and stood and looked at me for about 30 seconds in total silence while her brain processed the fact that the daughter who was supposed to be in Essex was on her doorstep. And then I told her I’d hitched a lift with Tan and Darren…there were tears and hugs and much joy, as well as cursing Dad for being a sneaky so-and-so**.

On Friday Tan, Darren and I went for a walk along the Blavet to see if we could spot a coypu in the lagoon. We didn’t spot a coypu but we were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a kingfisher, a heron, a kestrel, any number of ducks, a buzzard and a cormorant in its favourite tree. It’s a canalised river which flows through to Lorient, and the towpath is popular for walking and running. Last winter we did a 10 miler along there with a total ascent of about 3 metres, which tells you how flat it is!

One of the great mysteries of French life is when the polite passing greeting changes from ‘bonjour‘ to ‘bonsoir‘ – if you open with bonsoir, you can guarantee that they’ll come back at you with bonjour, so mostly we’ve given up and just start there. Yesterday’s walk was no different. On the outward stretch we bonjoured away merrily until we’d almost reached our turnaround point. Tan bonjoured a French gentleman who responded with ‘Non! Bonsoir! Nuit est arrive!‘. When we met him again close to his turnround point in Pont-Augan, I bonsoired him….to which is his response was ‘trop bonsoir!’. Er, what…. had we bonsoired him too many times? Was it too evening, in which case was there a third option of ‘bonne nuit‘? Duolingo – or, indeed, Mr Morgan French (to distinguish him from any other Mr Morgans at the school)- never covered this clearly tricky aspect of the language. Is it some secret French thing designed to catch out the tourists? Answers on a carte postale to the usual address, s’il vous plait.

We are here till Monday, when we’ll make the marathon trek back across to Calais. By then I confidently expect to be approximately 75% baguette.

*Women’s Weekly, since you ask, in a feature all about her live interpretation business, Time Steps. Steph had promised to send her a copy….

**censored, for the delicate ears of my readership

Other things making me happy this week

  • A great meeting with Little Angel Theatre about where we could work together
  • Kicking off a new project with our illustrator Alaa Alsaraji and Holborn Community Association’s Digital Arts Club
  • A swim with Sue and Rachel – the temperatures are heading downwards to extreme sports levels again!
  • Getting organised for this year’s temperature tracker and starting a new Hydrangea blanket as well as mounting last year’s.

Same time next week, mes amis

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Midwinter of the Spirit/A Crown of Lights/The Cure of Souls/The Lamp of the Wicked – Phil Rickman

The Last Devil to Die– Richard Osman (Audible)

Map Addict– Mike Parker

197: a child’s Christmas in Wales

The build up to Christmas this year has been thoroughly miserable, weatherwise, and lemon juice is being rubbed into the papercut by my Facebook memories showing me snow photos from recent years. The torrential rain is bringing back memories of childhood Christmasses in Wales when the festive season was marked by the man from the council turning up with the gift of sandbags in case of flooding from the brooks that bounded our road. There were a few pub evenings when someone would come in and tell us we’d better get home before the road went under!

We’ve recently moved offices in our building from a ground floor that felt like a basement, tucked away at the back of the building, to the attic space with skylights. The rain, thunder and howling gales we’ve experienced this week have been hammering on these little windows and reminding me once more of my Welsh childhood…this time, though, summer holidays in caravans when you’re only separated from the weather (or tapdancing gulls) by a thin metal skin. Those days meant a trip to a town rather than the beach, and I was 40 by the time I discovered Fishguard didn’t exist in a permanent monsoon microclimate. Other rainy day destinations included Devil’s Bridge, Aberystwyth, or the Centre for Alternative Technology in Machynlleth where the coffee was made of dandelions or something – my dad was horrified.

Rain = learning, by this logic, so the new office makes me quite happy even though it’s a very long way up. The stairs are quite open, too (all 73 of them) and it took me a week to get past the cognitive dissonance caused by the very steep drop to the left of the door which told my mind was going to fall. It’s perfectly safe, but my heart skipped a beat every time I opened the door as I’m not very good with heights. The new office is cosier, and we share it with a small theatre company who have their own Welsh person.

I am now off until the New Year and have plans – such plans! – involving various craft kits, some fabulous fabric and a whole lot of naps.

Things making me happy this week

  • A good wander through the fields with Sue and the Bella-dog
  • Coffees with Heather and Miriam
  • A girly night in with Amanda, watching a Doctor Who Christmas special and then Weekend at Bernie’s
  • Finishing the crochet blanket I started two years ago (at least!) – see above!
  • Making more toadstools (all of which have gone to new homes) and giving in to the urge to add a door and window to one

The thing making me sad this week

Thirty-something years ago, in a pub called the Nag’s Head in Monmouth, an ex-boyfriend of mine introduced me to a bloke called Nigel. A few years older than me, he’d been in sixth form when I started at the local comp, so I’d seen him around but never spoken to him. We bonded over music (especially Mr Springsteen and a range of classic rock), books (shout out to Terry Pratchett) and shared a dry (at times I’d go so far as to say arid… desiccated, even) sense of humour alongside a horror of misplaced apostrophes. If I’d had a big brother, I would have liked him to be like Nigel, up to and including the ability to take me down several pegs when I’m taking myself too seriously. I know not everyone appreciated that about him, particularly his habit of saying the things that needed to be said on Monmouth’s local Facebook pages and his total inability to suffer fools gladly. He loved diving, and was delighted with the crocheted nudibranches I sent him instead of a Christmas card. He appreciated good cheese, good rum and bad puns.

Last year he did a round with cancer and we thought he’d kicked its arse. We’d planned an evening out in ‘that there London’ in October for his birthday this year but he’d been in hospital and was on antibiotics for an infection. It turned out that the bastard cancer had made an aggressive comeback. Two weeks ago he told me his prognosis wasn’t great, and – typically – that he wasn’t going to be starting any long box sets on TV. I offered any assistance that he and Caroline needed, although I drew the line at crocheting a giant life-sized Nigel as that was just weird. He laughed.

Caroline phoned me this week to say he was receiving end of life care, as he’d gone downhill very quickly. I woke up to a message from her on Saturday morning to say he had gone. It hit me in the evening when I saw a cartoon about fancy Christmas cheese that on any other day I would have sent straight to him. I will miss him terribly. 

All I can say is that wherever he’s ended up, they’d better make damn sure the apostrophes are in the right place and to put him in charge of the music, otherwise they’ll never hear the end of it.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The Drowning Pool – Syd Moore

Hogfather – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

Lost Christmas – David Logan (Audible)

Sharon, Tracy and the Rest – Keith Waterhouse

The Dark is Rising – Susan Cooper (BBC World Service adaptation)

Past Lying – Val McDermid

196: you were wearing your red jumper

My writing today is accompanied by the sounds of gunfire and torpedo explosions, as despite it being only nine days till Christmas my beloved still insists on watching normal films and Vikings for the umpteenth time – this evening’s choice being U-571, featuring Matthew McConaughey (yay!) and a submarine (meh). I know he has seen this before, as I have seen it before and this is not a film I would ever have watched by choice, despite the presence of the delicious Mr McC. He claimed when I pointed this out that he has definitely never seen it before and that I must be thinking of another film. He has form in this area: I call it his Father Dougal brain, after an episode of Father Ted where Ted is attempting to remind Dougal of a day in the local town where they witnessed a car chase, a bank robbery and other such exciting things. Dougal has no memory of the day until Ted says, ‘You were wearing your red jumper!’

With 22 minutes to go, 90 minutes into the film, my Beloved has just said, “is this the one where they drop a torpedo on someone’s legs?” as recollection dawns. Yes dear, you were wearing your red jumper.

While he claims not to recall the many films he has watched, and therefore can watch them again a seemingly infinite number of times, he has decided he has seen The Muppets’ Christmas Carol too many times. Ditto Elf, Scrooged and other such classic Yuletide films, although not Home Alone, which gets right on my nerves and I suspect they actually left Kevin behind on purpose as he’s so bloody annoying.

The number of times you have watched them is not the point of Christmas movies, I feel: they are part of the festive tradition, the background to the season, and make you feel all Christmassy and warm and fuzzy: a classic being It’s a Wonderful Life. Bankruptcy? Throwing yourself into a freezing torrent? Being terminally frustrated by the unfairness of your life? No one understanding you? Evil big business type person? Truly, it has it all.

And Miracle on 34th Street? Sectioning Kris Kringle? Rampant commercialism? Sceptical small child? Bitter divorcee mother? Court case threatening the very existence of Christmas? Again, it has it all. The 1947 version is obviously the best, but the Dickie Attenborough version will do in a pinch.

Better people than I have probably written reams on the morals behind these stories, using words like redemption, faith and suchlike, but for me they’re an integral part of the time of year. In a similar vein is Lost Christmas, which was a BBC production in 2011 based on David Logan’s book. Starring Suzy Eddie Izzard, this was a gorgeous magical fairy tale that’s hardly ever repeated and isn’t available through the usual streaming services or on DVD. The audiobook is next up on my list, once Terry Pratchett’s Hogfather is wrapped up.

Similarly, Christmas music is part of December*: I love Noddy shouting ‘It’s CHRISTMAAAASSSS’ and Jona Lewie stopping the cavalry, Steeleye Span burbling along in Latin and Mike Oldfield’s In Dulce Jubilo can make me feel Christmassy in July. The Darkness and their glam bells, Annie Lennox and Al Green putting a little love into our hearts, The Dropkick Murphys ode to family get-togethers, Bruce checking that the E-Street Band are on the nice list, Darlene Love begging her baby to come home for Christmas, Greg Lake’s miserable classic, Chris de Burgh getting all spacey, Elton stepping into Christmas, Joni wishing for a river to skate away on, Earth Kitt imploring Santa for diamonds, and Bing and David getting all twee. I love them all**. A friend sent me some digital equivalents of Christmas mixtapes a few years ago and they’re now required listening after December 1st, and I can even tolerate East 17 and Coldplay once or twice.

*not John Lennon or Paul McCartney’s offerings though. Or Cliff Richard. Drivel.

**Justin Bieber and Mariah Carey are deleted on sight. Dreadful.

Other things making me happy this week

  • A morning at an Islington primary school with Grace Holliday, one of our illustrator-educators, with a ‘Meet the Illustrator’ session rearranged from National Illustration week.
  • Crochet toadstools from a pattern by Haekelkeks
  • Catching up to October on the temperature supernova
  • An early morning walk
  • Pretty sparkly nails and a morning out with hot chocolate and catching up
  • Being proud of No 1 Timeshare Teenager speaking out about the stigma of food banks

What this all translates to is that I’ve passed from resignation to acceptance and into anticipation… I should probably do some shopping, and remember to get the turkey out to defrost on Thursday. The cake and I have finished the rum, so the marzipan can go on mid week ready for icing. It’s nearly CHRISSSSTMMMAAAASSSSS!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

Jeeves and the Yuletide Spirit – P.G.Wodehouse

Misplaced Magic – Jessica Dodge

Mrs Pooter’s Diary/Sharon, Tracy and the Rest – Keith Waterhouse

A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens (Audible)

Hogfather – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

The London Seance Society – Sarah Penner

Witch Hunt – Syd Moore

195: giving up the ghost (of Christmas present)

Well, that’s it. I am now resigned to the fact that it’s December and Christmas is inevitable. The work Christmas lunch is done (at The Wilmington, and very good it was too) along with the office Secret Santa, my Christmas cake is finally made and drinking all the rum, and I have even managed to do some shopping. The turkey is in the freezer, which is a relief on several levels – not least the one where it fits in the drawer – along with literally dozens of chipolatas for pigs in blankets, no less than seven boxes of stuffing for some reason, and the tin of Quality Street is stashed with strict injunctions against even looking at it before the big day.

Having missed stir-up Sunday and the chance to use my usual Mary Berry recipe, this year I’ve tried a no-soak recipe from Good Housekeeping and will just have to drink any rum that hasn’t got time to go in the cake. Oh dear, how sad. Ah well, etc etc. Pass the Coca-cola.

The theme for Secret Santa this year was decorations, and it was so lovely to be given something handmade in the shape of the adorable Moomintroll and Moominmamma you see below. One of the downsides of being a ‘maker’ yourself (“you mean, apart from all the paraphernalia required, the need for two sheds and the fact that the dining table is constantly under a pile of fabric?” – My Beloved) is that people often don’t feel they can give you something they have made so opening the package with these Moomins was such a treat. I can’t wait to put them on the tree later today, hung well out of the reach of the furry predators.

The downside of the week has been watching various members of the team topple like germ-laden dominoes as Covid and other seasonal plagues make their presence felt once again, like the Ghosts of Christmasses Past*. Please Santa, if I’m due for round 4 of the Covid-gift-that-keeps-on-giving, could it wait till the end of the week and be over by Christmas please – or at least until I’ve got the last of the school sessions out of the way! Also, this time round I could do without the associated ear problems that have topped and tailed the last rounds.

*Yes, I’m listening to A Christmas Carol again. Read by Hugh Grant, this was a freebie from Audible a couple of years ago, My Beloved is off at Copped Hall walled garden for his weekly stint as a volunteer today, so I shall also be watching the Muppet version while the tree goes up – he doesn’t love it like I do. Scrooged is also on the watchlist.

Other things making me happy this week

  • Crocheting things that have nothing to do with Christmas
  • Having a weekend with time to do things
  • Working with lovely people
  • A peaceful mooch round the charity shops of Epping
  • Pretty Christmas lights

I must now go and do useful things with my day – especially some baking as Thing 2 has been demanding banana bread for several days, going so far as to check the cupboards for missing ingredients and writing them on the shopping list. Let no one say I can’t take a hint! There’s also Christmas Welshcakes on the cards, as I haven’t made any for ages.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Bimbo/Mrs Pooter’s Diary/The Collected Letters of a Nobody – Keith Waterhouse

Bernard Who? – Bernard Cribbins

A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens (Audible)

194: it’s five o clock somewhere

This week I have been having great difficulty convincing my brain to stop being in full-on mode after two madly busy weeks with work. While this has been good in some ways, as Monday and Tuesday were very productive – mopping up a lot of things lurking on my to-do list, for example – its also had its downsides.

Tuesday was a case in point. When – as I expected – my alarm went off, I hopped out of bed, into the shower and was dressed before looking at a clock and discovering that it was only 5am rather than 6, and it was too early to go to work as we can’t get into our building till much later. At 6am my alarm actually went off, waking Thing 3 – as I found out when I was puzzling over it in the evening to my beloved. It turns out I’d dreamed my alarm, whispered at Alexa to shut up despite not actually being on, and got up.

It wasn’t until I got into pyjamas in the evening that I discovered I’d been wearing my bra inside out all day. The week did not improve.

Luckily, I had booked Thursday and Friday off as an ersatz weekend, as Saturday and Sunday (today!) are full of Christmas markets. Epping was yesterday: cold and sunny but not windy, which meant lots of people about and that the lack of sides on my gazebo wasn’t too noticeable. Thing 2 spent a couple of hours with me before heading off to meet the boyfriend – she was very useful when setting up! The tiny Christmas mice and mince pies were the best sellers, and it was nice to see familiar faces from previous years. I’ve done this event most years since 2009, when two friends and I shared our first stall. Today I am off to a school in north west London lugging an enormous suitcase of stuff – another repeat visit, which I am looking forward to.

And so I must go and get ready for the day! Short but sweet once again – at some point normal service will resume. I hope.

Other things making me happy this week

  • Coffee and a debrief with Amanda on Monday
  • Showing Paul Talling of Derelict London round our future site on Tuesday
  • A new haircut – I don’t think I like the grey coming through. I’m still not ready.
  • Seeing all the amazing illustrations coming in from schools after National Illustration Day
  • Christmas lights in the city

Let’s see if this week is any better…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

Walk the Lines – Mark Mason

Crazy Salad/Scribble Scribble – Nora Ephron (Audible)

The Fine Art of Uncanny Prediction – Robert Goddard

Diary of a Nobody – George & Weedon Grossmith

Mrs Pooter’s Diary – Keith Waterhouse

London Overground – Iain Sinclair

193: the week in five pictures

A week spent whirling from place to place, so this week you get some nice pictures and not many words.

Lena’s wallpaper going up

Monday was spent mostly at Angel Central, where we’d been lent an empty shop for the week and had lots to do. Here’s our Artistic Director Olivia putting up vinyl wallpaper designed especially for National Illustration Day by Lena Yokoyama. This was a proper team activity, with various members of the team footing ladders, plastering ourselves against walls while trying to hold up rolls of vinyl, and trying to match up the overlap. Next year we’ll get the printers to install it.

Eton’s tasteful Christmas lights

My annual stint as an external adviser at Eton College Collections– a meeting followed by a nice dinner. Celeriac soup, something chickeny, poached pears with hazelnut meringue and a sour cherry sauce. I sat between the charming Vice-Provost and the curator of antiquities and was highly entertained. I stayed at London sister’s overnight and was shouted at by owls, who nest in the tree outside her flat.

Wonderful Olivia Armstrong wearing the coat of many pockets

Finally the new schools session inspired by Quentin Blake’s book Angelica Sprocket’s Pockets was launched, starring Olivia Armstrong as the storyteller who forgot her coat and had to borrow Angelica’s. Featuring stories of the New River and local history, it went down a storm with the schools.

In the evening my Beloved was watching a Liam Neeson film when I fell asleep on the sofa and he was still watching it when I woke up three hours later. According to him it was a completely different film, but it looked remarkably similar to me.

Angel Central with Lena Yokoyama’s amazing window displays

More of Lena’s work, this time boards for window displays for the BIG DAY on Friday. You can just see the Mayor of Islington through the door. We invited lots of people through the door to help us celebrate. We asked schools to share what they made, and on social media we asked people to share the illustrations that were important to them. At one point we were trending 6th on X/Twitter and had almost 800 uses of the #nationalillustrationday hashtag on Instagram. We made the Radio 4 Today show, who had a live illustrator and interviewed Lauren Child. Illustrations made in the shop were scanned and added to our online gallery.

My contribution to our Angel Central gallery

Here’s my contribution to the online gallery – a self-portrait! Saturday saw more than 300 people come through the doors, including a visit from Amanda and an old college housemate. Hopefully Sunday will be just as busy.

And now it’s time to crash…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Walk the Lines – Mark Mason

Crazy Salad/Scribble Scribble – Nora Ephron (Audible)

The Fine Art of Uncanny Prediction – Robert Goddard

The Master and Margarita – Mikhail Bulgakov

192: because you interacted with content

Algorithms. eh? What’s that all about? I’m hoping someone out there knows the answer to this as I have to say they are leaving me somewhat perturbed.

Take Facebook ads, for example. You know, the things which – some days – are every other post on your feed and leave you wondering why you’re being targeted for all sorts of strange things that have no relevance to any of your interests or are so wildly off course that you’re tempted to actually click on them. Every so often I’ll be bombarded with promotions for self-published rubbish by ‘A N Other – Author’, or for sites posting celebrity rubbish or obvious clickbait. I go through the motions: hide ad, tell us why you hid this ad (usually I choose the ‘not relevant to me’ option as there isn’t an ‘it’s utter balls’ selection), hide all ads from this advertiser. Inevitably this makes no difference, and the same ad will reappear. So I click on the ‘why am I seeing this ad?’ option and it says ‘because you’re over 40’ or ‘because you interacted with content about history’. Well yes, I did interact with content about history – I like history – but the content you are attempting to show me is about Kardashians, or about people I don’t know who went to the doctor and found out something, or about this one trick that will help me keep my house permanently tidy/lose half my bodyweight/some other frankly unlikely outcome. Then it will give me the option to undo the ‘hide all content from this advertiser’ that I chose last time, in case I’ve suddenly seen the light: my god YES I AM over 40 and and I DO like history, why would I not want to see all this other stuff??? DROWN ME IN THOSE KARDASHIAN SHENANIGANS! I AM READY! *

Recently, however, I have am wondering whether the algorithm is trying to tell me something. As you may recall, I turned 50** earlier this year and I may have mentioned – once or twice – the joys of menopause and getting older. So, naturally, I have seen a fair number of ads for ‘the one menopause treatment you can’t live without’ and so on. This is fine and shows that sometimes the ads are at least vaguely relevant (I still hide them though, it’s the principle of the thing) but now I am starting to get a bit concerned. I have gone straight from ads for menopause solutions and to ads for funeral plans and the local burial ground, without passing through Saga holidays and the other fun things us quinquagenarians are supposed to be looking forward to now the kids are old enough to cook their own fish fingers and stuff. Should I be worried?

*I will never be ready. I cancelled my Grazia subscription when it became obsessed with Kardashians and Middletons.

**This whole 50 thing is a bit of a swizz, it seems – this year the government have moved the flu jab goalpost so I still have to pay. This seems unfair. Chiz chiz, as Molesworth would say.

Other things making me happy this week

  • Falling in love with London all over again. In an attempt to thwart the Central Line and achieve coffee with with Amanda I got an early train. Walking from Chancery Lane to Farringdon through the little Hatton Garden lanes, complete with sparkly Christmas lights and interesting old buildings before the sun was properly up (and before all the people arrived), reminded me how magical the city is. And we managed coffee.
  • Glow in the Angel yesterday – popping up at Islington Green with a star lantern activity designed by Jhinuk Sarkar and meeting lots of our future audience, followed by a drink with Amanda and Karen. There was a polar bear, a celebrity cat and lots of happy people.
  • Esme Young’s autobiography on Audible
  • The sweet elderly lady in Pret with her daughter and granddaughter yesterday – shed been watching me crochet little granny squares and when I turned one into a bauble she got very excited.
  • Celebrating neighbour Sue’s birthday with tea, cake, chatter and the Barbie movie
  • More crochet Christmas decorations – note to self, don’t leave the baubles out overnight as the cat steals them
  • Finishing the ‘Coat of Many Pockets’ for the new storytelling session inspired by Quentin Blake’s Angelica Sprocket’s Pockets – I can’t wait to see the sessions this week!

And now it’s time to get ready for a swim – later there will be a nap, as my Beloved’s (clearly haunted) toothbrush decided to turn itself on at 4.30am and would not turn off. I have been awake since.

Same time next week!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Walk the Lines â€“ Mark Mason

The Master and Margarita – Mikhail Bulgakov

Reaper Man – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

The Thursday Murder Club – Richard Osman (Audible)

Behind the Seams – Esme Young (Audible)

191: probably where you left it

So far today Thing 2 has asked me what the UK female equivalent size for a Chinese website’s men’s XXL, what it means when the website informs her that her order has been closed, and what;’s going to be for dinner in five hours time*. People keep asking me questions, in fact. Who didn’t put that dirty plate in the dishwasher? Where did this cup come from? Who left that here? Who does this toy/nail polish/empty wrapper belong to? What’s for pudding? How long till dinner? Is my grey hoodie washed yet? Where are my trousers? Have you got the stuff for my food tech lesson? Where is my bus?

I do not know the answers to many of these questions. Many are, in fact, rhetorical: my Beloved knows who left the plates there as that child has just left the room. We all know that dishwashers have been rendered invisible to teenagers, even when they have to walk past them to put the plate on the side (never the sink). It’s easy to see who the nail polish belongs to: it’s the child who has just sat next to you for two hours doing her nails.

Some of the questions are answerable only with other questions: did you put it in the laundry basket? Did you tell me about the food tech lesson? Have you checked the bus app? Where did you leave them?

Even now, mere seconds after my Beloved has walked through the front door, there comes a cry of ‘who’s left pasta on?’

Mostly I ignore them, as they do not require an answer, and shrieking ‘I DON’T CARE’, however tempting it might be, is not conducive to a peaceful existence. But it is true. I do not care. If the plate is bugging you that much, put it in the dishwasher or take it up with the offspring (there are three to choose from) who left it there. If you require something washed, it’s your responsibility to make sure it’s in the laundry basket, as I have enough washing to do without searching the house for more. Your trousers are almost certainly where you took them off, ditto your shoes, tie and blazer.

Here endeth the lesson. Now stop asking me stupid questions.

*cottage pie with cheesy mash, as it happens.

You may surmise from the above that my normally sunny outlook on life has been sorely tested this week by having to deal with:

  • Printers which suddenly take against a document and will not print it. Perhaps it was the document, as I tried two computers and three printers before finally succeeding)
  • Caffe Nero’s so-called ‘luxury’ hot chocolate (bring back the Milano, please)
  • editing Zoom recordings (I can’t. I hope someone else can.)
  • the Central Line, which has contrived to thwart my social life (OK, a coffee date with my bestie, but it counts, right?)
  • Having to prove my human status repeatedly to various websites.
  • The ironing, though I admit that that’s probably my own fault for leaving it to pile up for several weeks.
  • Waking up at 4am every day thinking about all the things on my to-do list (lack of sleep may be adversely affecting my sunny disposition).

Not all my week was bad-tempered, obviously. Things making me happy this week include:

  • The return of Christmas sandwiches to the supermarket meal deal
  • Binging The Goldbergs on E4
  • A very chilly swim at 6 degrees this morning
  • A very productive jewellery making day

And now I am going for a nap.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Attack and Decay – Andrew Cartmel (Audible)

Mort/Reaper Man – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

The Saki Megapack

Underground Overground – Andrew Martin

Walk the Lines – Mark Mason

The Master and Margarita – Mikhail Bulgakov