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!

222: a nettle-strewn hellscape, you say?

Last Sunday afternoon London sister Tan and I went for our first long walk for aaaaages – well, since the ludicrously long one we did last July. She’s been running a lot (marathons and half marathons) while I have been doing weekend wanders and hoping that at some point the rain will stop long enough for the footpaths to dry out.

Despite her belief that Essex is a fly-blown wasteland, Tan trekked over to my ‘ends’ and we did the Moreton and the Matchings circular walk that I’d tried a couple of times last year. It takes in a few pretty churches and villages, and – as it turned out – a LOT of nettles that haven’t been cut back. These were head height in places, with added brambles, and some farmers haven’t cut the crossfield paths so many detours were taken. I spent some time on Monday morning reporting all this to the council, who may or may not get round to looking at it in an estimated nine weeks or so. Add the detours to my legendary (lack of) sense of direction, and the 17k walk came in at just under 20k.

You can just see the top of my head – this was a waymarked footpath!

We stopped for a snack break (Mini Cheddars, Snickers and coffee) on the green at Matching, next to the very pretty medieval marriage feast house and the church, facing an oak tree that was planted for Queen Victoria’s jubilee in 1887. The friendly vicar came along and very helpfully told us that they had a toilet, which made us happy. We saw kestrels, heard a lot of pheasants, snuck up on a few bunnies and a muntjac, and apart from the extremely hardcore nettles it was a good ramble. We finished with a look inside the 13th century St Mary the Virgin church in Moreton, where we’d parked the car, and then she refused to take my directions on the way home and insisted on using the satnav. Honestly!

Still, Tan’s opinion of Essex has changed – it’s now a nettle-strewn hellscape. Which is nice.

So how’s that skirt coming along?

Very well, thank you for asking! Having definitely said last week that I wasn’t going to do any boro patching as it would be too cottagecore for words, I remembered that not only did I have some Japanese prints in the stash, I had a boro inspiration pack from Japan Crafts that some lovely Secret Santa gave me a couple of years ago when the Young V&A theme was ‘blue’ so clearly DESTINY was saying DO A PATCH.

Also, the skirt doesn’t have pockets, and I NEED pockets, so I made a boro patch as a pocket. I used some of the indigo fabrics, some scraps from the V&A sample sale, and a square of cotton as a base, and lined it to make a patch pocket. That was my portable project on the tube this week, and it was clearly performance crafting as people kept watching me. As well as the running sashiko stitch, I also used some of the fabric features to embellish with lazy daisy stitch and outlining hexagons. I enjoyed it so much that I looked for other things to boro – starting with some of the zillion cotton tote bags I have collected over the years, probably! This will also encourage me to use some of the embroidery threads people keep giving me…

I gave up on all my marking tools and just used washable poster paint to mark out the final bits of stitching I wanted to do on the skirt, which was lovely and messy and a good way to spend a Saturday afternoon after a morning of ironing. While waiting for the front of the skirt to dry, I marked up a fabric pouch that I bought in a Hobbycraft sale with the Seigaiha (wave) stencil, and then used Bondaweb and more fabric scraps to create a boro panel on a tote bag. The yellow marking pencil worked on this, so I used the Sakura (cherry blossom) and Fondou (weight) stencils for a panel as well. That should keep me busy! Also, guess what everyone is getting for Christmas?

Things making me happy this week

Cat insurance. Lulu isn’t well and the vet quoted me £600. Once I’d stopped freaking out they helped me put the claim in so that they would be paid directly. Now we just need to get the meds down her.
Inter-library loans, and new colleagues who recommend books to me. The two may be connected.
Lots of strawberries and raspberries from the garden
Coffee with Brian on Thursday morning and a colleague who is leaving asking if they can join my early morning coffee roster. This is clearly now A Thing.
Cinnamon Bun flavoured Pretzel Flipz.

Today I am off to hang out with illustrator Skye Baker at the Little Angel Theatre community street party in Islington, where we’ll be illustrating houses.

Next week I may even have finished the skirt – the problem is always knowing when to stop with these things….

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Demolition Angel/The Forgotten Man/The Watchman/The Promise – Robert Crais

Shadowstitch – Cari Thomas

Neither Here Nor There – Bill Bryson (Audible)

221: you know they sell those, don’t you?

A few weeks ago, as you may remember (it’s fine if you don’t. Really.) A & I visited a cemetery in South London and took in a charity shop while we were there. I bought a couple of linen skirts, one in navy and one in black. This week I have been bombarded by adverts from a clothing company who sell Japanese-inspired printed dresses and skirts and sashiko-style prints featured heavily. I did a sashiko mending course last year at the V&A, so – as all crafty types have a bad habit of doing – I decided to make my own version using the navy skirt.

I have the templates, I have the threads and needles, and in theory I have a whole variety of marking tools for use on fabric. Chalk pencils, marking pencils, air-erasable chako pens, heat-erasable markers, dressmakers’ carbon paper, fabric pens…I have them all and none of them did the job, The chalk pencil snapped. The marking pencil only made tiny marks with the stencil but was good with a ruler. The chako pen disappeared within seconds. The heat-erasable marker didn’t work on the fabric. The fabric pens don’t show up. The carbon paper tears. Something that should be straightforward has turned out to be rather frustrating. The only thing I’ve found that does work with the stencils is a Derwent white blender, which washes off me and the stencil so I really hope it washes out of the fabric too….I probably should have checked…

Anyway, I have done a row of sakura blossoms and the next row will be waves, I think, though I might use some of the patterns from this book if I can find a way of marking them! I may also try some boro patches, but don’t want to lean too far over into folksy/cottage core. At least I don’t think so – my mind just recalled some Japanese cotton prints I have in the stash. Oh dear.

You’re supposed to use a running stitch but in some of the curves I found it easier to take individual stitches. You can definitely see where I started, and in which direction I travelled. Once you’re actually sewing its quite a fast craft, but the marking may defeat me!

Other things making me happy this week:

Visiting RIBA to talk about potential for working together, and getting a tour of the building – I have serious architecture and learning room envy.
And as I was in the area, I messaged my lovely ex-director and for once she was working at home. We had a walk in the sunshine round Regent’s Park and I found one of Quentin Blake’s Enormous Crocodiles in the wild.
Early morning coffee this week with Amanda at EL&N in St Pancras. St Pancras always makes me want to hop on the Eurostar and head off into the wilds. Sadly neither of us had our passports and we both had morning meetings. Ah well.
Finishing the crocheted Christmas cactus. This one was a lot of trial and error and the flowers need a bit of work.
Running into another friend at the station – you know that friend who gives the best hugs? That one!
A great kick-off meeting for a community project with The Parent House in Islington.

And now I am off to investigate the shed to see if I can lay hands on that quilting fabric…

Kirsty

What I’ve been reading:

L.A. Requiem/Chasing Darkness/The Last Detective/The First Rule/Demolition Angel – Robert Crais

Shadowstitch – Cari Thomas

The Lost Continent– Bill Bryson (Audible)

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

218: where have all the weirdos gone?

Yesterday Amanda and I ventured south of the river to tick off West Norwood Cemetery, the sixth of the Magnificent Seven Victorian graveyards – the original plan was Nunhead, but one of my colleagues tipped me off that it was their annual family open day and likely to be infested with Morris Dancers and small children rather than our usual cast of weirdos.

We met at London Bridge, where we both – separately – encountered a man wandering round with some rather grubby cards and a slightly desperate look on his face who was offering to do magic for people for some reason. South London hasn’t really featured on either of our radars, so it was new ground for us – we earmarked the RSPCA shop for a mooch after the cemetery, and we were quite surprised to find that the cemetery was very close to the station rather than a lengthy walk like the others.

West Norwood was the second of the seven to be built but is less higgledy-piggledy than Highgate and Kensal Green, with lots of mowed spaces and a newish rose garden for cremation burials where ashes can be scattered. There are wildlife areas – lots of wild flowers and birdlife, including cheeky robins and wagtails, noisy parakeets and magpies and the odd squirrel.

We are now getting to the age where mortality is making its presence felt and I think we’re quite pleased that there’s only one more to go on the list. We noticed a lot of child and baby burials from the 80s and 90s which made us sad. There are some great tombs, especially in the Greek quarter where there is a monumental chapel being restored with a Heritage Fund grant – a stonemason was at work, in fact, doing something with a chisel in the chapel. We didn’t find a single Martha on the stones – but there is always a Martha! – but did find lots of Elizas. We also found the wonderfully-named Carlton Parchment who, if I ever write a detective novel, will definitely be featured. Oswald Manoah Dennison is buried there, described on his gravestone as ‘The Columbus of Brixton and Empire Windrush pioneer’, which is a wonderful epitaph to be buried under. I love this poem by Dan Thompson I found about him and you can read an interview with him here.

Lunch was at Pintadera, a busy, friendly Italian cafe close to the station and an excellent suggestion by a friend who lives locally. Amanda had the mushroom and nduja pasta special, I had the ravioli with a beef and veal ragu which was delicious. We both had affogatos! Really reasonably priced, and highly recommended if you find yourself in the area.

The RSPCA shop trawl netted me a new pair of linen trousers and a skirt, a book and a pair of sunglasses for Thing 2. I do love a charity shop and this one was a really good one for clothes.

Other things making me happy this week

A girls’ night out to the cinema to see The Fall Guy, which just consolidated my love for Ryan Gosling (especially after watching La La Land earlier in the week)
Mental health awareness week – we went for a work picnic to get out of the office as the theme was movement. It was raining so instead of one of the local gardens we went to the Barbican, which was a great call by one of my colleagues. So good to step away from the desks and have a chat at the end of an exciting week.
And on the way back Esme Young from the Sewing Bee walked past us and I tried really hard not to embarrass myself.
Finishing Ashes to Ashes – the Daniel Mays character was completely bonkers, I still love the Gene Genie, but Alex was getting on my nerves.
Building an extremely long playlist based on blokes with guitars and angst. It’s great.
Coffee with Brian on Tuesday before work.
Finally being able to announce that our development is going ahead!
Running into ex-colleagues at the Museums and Heritage Show.

And that’s it from me for the week – this week it’s my Irish sister’s birthday (happy birthday!), and a session with my favourite teacher training alliance.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Bubbles All The Way/Bubbles Reboots – Sarah Strohmeyer

The Monkey’s Raincoat – Robert Crais

The Lost Continent – Bill Bryson (Audible)

Pay Dirt – Sara Paretsky

Necropolis -Catharine Arnold

217: sequins and a shortage of shorts

Yesterday I found myself watching some of the Eurovision finals for the first time since I don’t know when. I am not sure what to think about it – some of the songs were truly dreadful (Norway), some were naff, and some of the staging caused my eyebrows to raise almost to my hairline (I’m looking at you, UK, and a bit of side-eye for Finland as well). Graham Norton is a worthy successor to Terry Wogan, complete with cheeky comments, and there were enough sequins to keep the entire cast of Priscilla Queen of the Desert in costume for some years. Why was the man from Croatia wearing his Granny’s tablecloth? Why was one of the Ukrainian ones dressed as a pimped Ghengis Khan? Just some of the many, many things that crossed my mind….

This pair would have blended right in at Eurovision

The comperes in Malmo didn’t half drag out the results though, which got quite annoying towards the end but did give cheeky Graham a chance to be entertaining. I do feel a bit sorry for poor Olly Alexander with his nul point from the audience, but it was pretty dreadful all round – sad, as I rather like some of his Years and Years stuff. The ‘political’ voting was interesting this year, and perhaps it was best that neutral Switzerland won in the end….

The entertainment the previous night was far more spectacular, and caused my social media to go quite mad the following day. I am, of course, talking about the Northern Lights making an appearance all over the UK thanks to a huge geomagnetic storm. We were lucky in that we had a very clear night as the persistent rain has finally taken a break, and after trying to spot them from the back garden where the lights kept coming on, Thing 2 and I went for a late night walk on the Common behind the house where we were away from the streetlights.

I’ve always wanted to see the Northern Lights, but had never expected to, so this was a magical moment. Although my phone camera picked up the colours better than the naked eye, the sky itself was glowing and constantly changing with cloudplay; the stars were out in force and we were awestruck by the show. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it. Both of us wished we were in West Wales watching over the sea, but Essex just had to do on this occasion. North Weald has a lot of sky, and we don’t get the glow from London so much, so we were lucky.

(At the risk of sounding entirely soppy, too, both my sisters were watching the same lights in west London and Northern Ireland at the same time, and that felt pretty special as well).

I did check for triffids in the garden the following morning…

Other things making me happy this week:

Many completed crochet cacti and some bags for the Copped Hall stall at the beginning of June
A visit from the local peacocks
Gorgeous sunny swim this morning – and a nice cup of hot chocolate and a bacon roll when we decided not to swim in the pouring rain last Monday
GrandThing 2’s first birthday party yesterday – a Peter Rabbit party in our back garden
Sunshine!
Not migraines, though. No.

And now I’m off to enjoy the sunshine with some crochet and a cup of coffee, and quite possibly a maple raisin muffin. See you all next week!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Bubbles A Broad/Bubbles Betrothed/Bubbles All the Way – Sarah Strohmeyer

Pay Dirt – Sara Paretsky

A Walk in the Woods/The Lost Continent – Bill Bryson (Audible)

Necropolis – Catharine Arnold

216: it’s 1973, almost dinner time…

…I’m ‘avin ‘oops.

This week, having worked our way through all 27 series of Silent Witness, we’ve been watching the brilliant Life on Mars which has just appeared on Netflix. For anyone who missed this gem the first time round, the premise was that Manchester copper Sam Tyler (John Simm) was hit by a car, went into a coma and woke up in 1973. He’s been ‘transferred’ from Hyde where policing is a little more progressive. He’s confronted with sexism, racism, Neanderthal attitudes, ‘old-school’ policing and a camel-coated, gun-toting DCI called Gene Hunt (Philip Glenister) who zooms around in a Cortina and shouts a lot (I love him. So. Much.). He spends two series attempting to reform the Gene Genie, hearing voices from various bits of electrical equipment linking him back to his comatose life in the 1990s. There’s a love interest, a truly excellent soundtrack, great clothes and good storylines. I really liked the ending though my Beloved always picks holes in these things, being very bad at suspending his disbelief.

Things 1 and 2 have dropped in and out of the series with us, especially Thing 2 who gets quite engaged with these things – she got very involved with Silent Witness too. About halfway through one episode she said ‘I wish I’d been there for all the feminism stuff, I think it would have been really exciting, really important.’ I’ve been thinking about that quite a lot – I probably should have questioned her a bit more about what she sees as having changed in the last 50 years but I was too busy thinking about how much she’s changed in the last year or so.

Thing 2 was desperately shy as a small person – I had to go to all birthday parties with her and she’d rarely leave my side. I called her my limpet as she’d cling on to me with her arms and legs at all times, which at least left me hands-free. Strange relatives in the house would have her posting notes under the door informing us that she wasn’t coming in the room as she was too shy. It usually took several hours for her to get round to talking to them. Combined with her legendary (inherited – karma strikes hard) stubbornness, this could make things like getting her into school quite difficult. Speech therapy was a trial as she refused to speak to the therapist for the first several weeks. She was seven before I could go to a school assembly without her clambering across every row of people to get to me rather than take part – when she finally managed it I was so proud I cried. She still hates answering questions in class and for her English speaking assessments we have to arrange for her to do her presentation to the teacher and some of her friends rather than the whole class. She hates speaking to waiters which drives her Aunty Tan mad.

What she does have, however, is a fierce sense of what’s right and wrong, and this is when she speaks out – she stands up for her sister when she’s in trouble, she speaks up for friends in school. On one memorable occasion last year our next door neighbours were having a barney outside – my Beloved phoned the police, Thing 1 was monitoring the situation and Thing 2 flung open the front door, puffed herself up to twice her size like an angry cat and stormed out of the house shouting ‘WHAT THE F**K, B…?’ He was so surprised he stopped what he was doing and legged it before the police arrived. His wife brought flowers to Thing 2 the following day which flustered her completely. She was worried that I’d tell her off for swearing – on this occasion I let her off! See? Fierce. Far from telling her off, I’d like to get it printed on a commemorative t-shirt or mug for her. She might not say much but when she does it makes a difference.

Gene Hunt makes his return this evening as we start Ashes to Ashes – similar premise, except our time traveller is a woman heading back to 1981. Fire up the Quattro!

Other things making me happy this week

Coffees with lovely people: a fellow crocheter who’s currently working at the Museum of the Order of St John, with Amanda, and with my team.
Lunch with Panagiota, the friend I made a few weeks ago – we managed to find a date at last!
The prospect of a long weekend with a couple of swims
Two encounters with the Bella-dog, who is unfailingly pleased to see me and lets me know with boisterous enthusiasm
A visit from Timeshare Teenager 1 and No 1 Grandson this afternoon
A gorgeous sunny walk through the lanes today after several days of torrential downpours this week
The return of Disco Jesus to the church just down from our site

Sunshine and flowers!

Enjoy your Bank Holiday Monday!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Mrs England/The Foundling– Stacey Halls

A Walk in the Woods – Bill Bryson (Audible)

Necropolis – Catharine Arnold

Bubbles Unbound/Bubbles in Trouble/Bubbles Ablaze –Sarah Strohmeyer

(Cover image: https://contra.com/p/U6k3LMvr-are-spaghetti-hoops-vegan)

215: next stop, Islington

This week I’ve spent a lot of time on buses on my way to and from visits to interesting people. I like London buses. They are reliable, cheap and almost never involve changing at Bank station. They’re also above ground so hopping on buses around the borough is helping me consolidate my mental map of Islington – this week I connected the dots between Highbury and Islington Green, for example. I now know that the number 4 bus will get me back to Barbican from Finsbury Park, and that it’s no slower than taking various trains.

I like to sit on the top deck when I can, as you’re above the shop fronts and can see the bones of the buildings above them. Islington, bordering the City, has elegant squares (especially in the bit around New River Head where we’re building our new Centre) and brick villas and terraces – home to the Charles and Carrie Pooters of Victorian London. There are modernist council estates like Berthold Lubetkin’s Spa Green Estate and Bevin Court. Interesting buildings include a gorgeous Art Deco cinema (now a community hub) in Upper Street. Exmouth Market has traditional tiled pub fronts, and the old Metropolitan Water Board HQ (also New River Head) oozes Edwardian grandeur at the front and 1930s sweeping glass brick glamour at the old Laboratory building. There’s Islington Green, a tiny square where the statue of Bob the street cat holds court. There are also ridiculously posh corners like Highgate Village, and of course the gothic glories of Highgate Cemetery.

The Pooters, residents of Islington – *Diary of a Nobody,* George and Weedon Grossmith

There are railways and stations and canals, including the very long Islington Tunnel, and for some reason a lot of theatres in pubs, and medieval wells where people would go to take the waters. The more time I spend on buses and visiting new places, the more I like it. I’ve even stopped getting lost on my way back to the office.

Other things making me happy this week

A visit to Artbox in Islington, an arts organisation working with adults with learning needs
Coffee with Amanda
Finishing Silent Witness – all 27 series!
Mike Bubbins’ sitcom Mammoth (BBC) and Deadboy Detectives (Netflix)
A walk in the early morning woods on Monday
Book recommendations from a colleague – finding a fellow fantasy fan is always good. Also, I read the start of a book over someone’s elbow on a busy tube and it looked really good so I had to buy it. Not even sorry.

What I’ve been reading

A Court of Mist and Fury/A Court of Wings and Ruin/A Court of Frost and Starlight/A Court of Silver Flames – Sarah J. Maas

Notes from a Small Island/A Walk in the Woods – Bill Bryson (Audible)

Mrs England – Stacy Halls