395: post-apocalyptic life skills

This week there’s been a lot in the news about the need to be prepared for a whole range of potential emergencies like total power failure, bad actors, foreign hackers, anarchy, riots and so on. We’re all supposed to be stashing enough tinned and long life food, water, medicines, hygiene products and pet food to get us through a fortnight of national disaster, along with copies of important documents, cash, wind up torches, batteries, radios and a list of helpful phone numbers. A go-bag for fires, floods, zombie attacks. Blankets, sleeping bags, things to keep the kids amused when their phones run out or TikTok goes dark. Board games are an option, though presumably not Monopoly as that’s guaranteed to cause societal breakdown in your house as well as outside.

I can see some issues with the list above, as getting your doctor to provide you with a prescription for prepper purposes is quite unlikely. Other problems that have been put forward have been lack of space for storing the stash (stashing the store?) and also – probably more of an issue given the economy – the number of people living in food insecurity who can’t afford to eat day to day let alone to stockpile. People mutter about food banks filling that gap but I have a feeling that people will be buying those extra tins for their own families now rather than donating,

It’s something I’m considering doing although my main problem would be stashing enough food somewhere in the house to supply a growing 15 year old Thing 3, and also enough of the right sort of food to keep Thing 1 fed as she is and always has been a picky eater. Thing 2 will just mix stuff together according to her mood.

Tinned vegetables are recommended, corned beef, tuna and sardines, beans, soups, tinned chilli and bolognese, UHT milk, dried fruit and nuts. Pasta, rice, instant mash and porridge, chocolate. Huge jugs of water. The list of food above is more of a ‘won’t eat’ list for Thing 1, and that’s before she even gets onto the need for oat milk. Wes Streeting clearly does not have teenagers to contend with, and definitely not teens who can sniff out a stash of chocolate biscuits through several layers of lead insulation.

So assuming I can find somewhere to stash my disaster store (other than the salad drawer, which none of them look in and which is so far safe) it will probably have to include the following:

Approximately one million tins of Ravioli, which they all eat
Sausages and beans, in a can (a nod to my small nephew there)
Spaghetti and sausages (I don’t like beans)
Heinz Cream of Tomato soup in large quantities
Curry Pot Noodles (blame their father)
Tuna in spring water (the cats get the water)
Corned beef and tinned potatoes for hash, maybe with some dried onions
Dried fruit (mostly for me) and a locked stash of biscuits
A barista’s dream of oat, almond and semi skimmed milk
Coffee. Otherwise I’m not going to make it through this let alone the kids.
Wind up torches so my little wind up merchants can see to wind each other up
A big pile of books, also handy for insulation and building a fort to hide in
A large yarn stash and crochet hooks. For sanity and blankets, obviously. Crochet is a post apocalyptic life skill, you know.
The other stuff on the list, though the government have stopped short of actually publishing a list in case of precipitating the food shortages.

So there we are. Apparently this is SOP in European countries who are all much better prepared than we are for national disasters and so on. I wonder what makes the UK different? Answers on a postcard…

Things making me happy this week

Thing 2 turned 18!
Miranda being murdered by the Traitors. I never took to her.
Crocheting watching Widow’s Bay and Slow Horses while Storm Austen howls outside
Ben and Jerry’s Minter Wonderland season again!

That’s it from me…back to work tomorrow after ten days off. Can’t wait to open my inbox…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

Miss Wolcott’s Ghost – Louise Penny

The Charlie Method/The Graham Effect – Elle Kennedy

Cover photo from The Guardian

393: cautiously optimistic

There have definitely been moments over the last twenty (yeesh!) years when I have questioned many of my life choices, almost always involving the Horde. Coming into the living room and finding that Things 1&2 have rigged up a tightrope using their gloves on elastic and are about to start testing it. While applying yoghurt to Thing 2’s face after she decided (against all advice) to eat a chilli pepper straight off the plant and then rubbed her face. Thing 3’s willingness to eat anything as long as there was a dip with it.

Wednesday and Friday mornings, trying to wrangle all three of them into their school uniforms and out of the door with all the appropriate equipment to catch the unreliable bus. Thing 1’s ability to fall over from a standing start and lose things in a matter of seconds, Thing 2’s stubbornness and the need to pick my battles very carefully, and Thing 3’s obsession with stopping at Every. Single. Lamppost between school and nursery to say ‘That sign means lightning. If there is lightning you must not go in the garden because you will DIE.’

Moments when sentences I never thought I’d say came out of my mouth. Moments when keeping a straight face while issuing a telling off was the hardest thing in the world. Moments of remaining sensible and calm when what I really want to do is lose what’s left of my rag and go all medieval.

They’re 20, 18ish and 15 now and luckily those moments are further and further apart now: Thing 3’s worst habit is missing the bus in the mornings (though a couple of late detentions seem to have helped). Thing 1’s chaotic bedroom seems to have resolved itself and she and Thing 2 are sharing space nicely. I need to pick fewer battles with Thing 2 these days, which is much less stressful. Watching them become friends as well as siblings is a joy.

Just this week, for example, 2 & 3 had an evening making a lemon tart. 2 is helping 3 with his DT Food work. On a side note, should I worry that all three of them are planning on culinary careers? 1 is working in the local pub kitchen, 2 started a commis chef apprenticeship two weeks ago and 3 is planning on the same next year. Is it self-defence after years of my cooking? There was the moment when Thing 3 – as a three year old – sighed at the sound of the smoke alarm and toddled off to tell his dad that dinner was ready. Thing 1 peering over my shoulder at the fish fingers and asking ‘haven’t you burned them yet mummy?’ Thing 2 putting cake kits on her birthday list in case I got it wrong. And don’t get me started on Stroganoffgate, which was the last time I tried getting all of them to eat something new.

1 and 2 have had a sisterly shopping trip this week, and last weekend 2 and I had a movie day with popcorn, snacks and Hocus Pocus1 and 2 on the TV. I introduced her to the Buffy movie too. Thing 3 still comes and hugs me and asks about my day when I get home. They’ve taken their parents’ separation in their stride and are supportive of both of us, which is great. They’re adorable with their nephews and helpful around the house. They’re polite to adults and can be taken out in public (I credit their aunty with this – she followed through when she said ‘stop it or we’re leaving’).

I’m biased but I think they’re awesome….

Things making me happy this week

A sunny ramble in the woods last Sunday morning – heading into my favourite season
Adding handwarmers to the portable project
Impromptu pub evening with Miriam and Jill on Wednesday, and coffee and cake at the market on Saturday
Being discharged by the maxillofacial team at my post-op

That’s it from me – next week I’m in Wales at the Swn festival in Cardiff. Festivals with no camping or portaloos are the way to go.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The Red Queen – Martha Grimes, who needs to stop now as this was barely readable.

The Deal/The Chase – Elle Kennedy

The Amberglow Candy Store – Hiyoko Kurisu

320: navigating murky waters

This weekend I’m coming to you live from halfway up a mountain in Wales again, which is rapidly becoming one of my favourite places to be. I’ve been here since Thursday and am making the most of a long weekend before the madness of pre-opening hits. We announced last week that we’ll be throwing the doors to the Centre open on 5 June – tickets are on sale, celebration planning is underway and it’s all happening…

A bit of mental getting myself together is sorely needed, I feel. I’ve mentioned in previous posts that there’s a lot going on in my life these days. The biggest change is that I split up with my partner in March and we are navigating our way through what sharing a small house, five children, five grandchildren and three temperamental felines looks like now. I hate to use the term ‘conscious uncoupling’ à la Gwyneth Paltrow but essentially that’s what’s happening at the moment, after 22 years together.

People keep telling me how brave I am to have made the choice, and one or two have offered to help me negotiate the weird world of dating apps. I have thanked them and declined – I spend enough time hearing about the terrible people on these apps that the mere thought fills me with horror. Of course there are some nice people (like my friends) and successful relationships that have come from these apps, but they are few and far between.

Navigating both situations simultaneously has been tricky at times, to say the very least, and I’ve been extremely grateful for the support of friends and family – offering beds and emotional and other support, while recognising that there’s no easy solution. This is just as well as the doctor already has me on the maximum dose of my antidepressants….

The hardest part of all these things is telling the children: while they’re all in their mid to late teens it’s still inevitably going to be a big change in their lives. Thing 2, being an MI5-level investigator, interrogated her father within minutes of the event and wormed the situation out of him despite an agreement to tell them together at the right time. This put her in the position of knowing something her brother and sisters didn’t, which wasn’t fair on her, and meant that we had to tell the others sooner than I would have liked.

Thing 2 takes a while to process things and now is beginning to ask questions like ‘are we going to have two Christmases?’. That’s nine months away so I don’t want to make any assurances, of course, but what do you say? At 17 she’s incredibly perceptive and sensible which in some ways is great but in others…not so much…

Thing 3, being a 15 year old boy, took it very much in stride – at least I thought he had, until one evening when he said ‘why are you sleeping in the living room, mum?’. When I reminded him that his father and I had split up, his response was ‘oh yeaaahhhh!’. Perhaps he just wasn’t listening to his aged parent as usual.

Thing 1 was mostly angry and upset, and didn’t speak to me for several days other than in monosyllables. I told her the news when she was with one of her older sisters so she’d have support. Their father spoke to the oldest one over the phone. Both the Timeshare Twenty-somethings have been incredibly supportive – I still get to be their step mum and Granny K which is lovely. I think they’re just used to me now.

As the unmarried, unstable daughter my next biggest worry was telling my parents that my relationship has failed at the age of 52. It’s daft the things that you think about at these moments – I know that all they ever want is for their children to be happy and I very clearly wasn’t. London sister explained the situation to them and I phoned them the next day. They were, of course, supportive and wonderful as always and at my age the ‘balance and options’ conversation with Dad is taken as read.

I don’t know what the next steps are, but I do know they need to be carefully navigated. A previous boss, now a valued friend and mentor, talks about moments like this as being swimming in murky water: being able to see what’s straight ahead but not knowing what’s under or around you. This seems apt.

Things making me happy this week

Dinner at Caravan in Granary Square with Amanda on Monday, and this week we have an evening with David Olusoga to look forward to.
Moving all the learning materials and kit across to the new Creative Studio and buying storage crates to put things in. For someone whose alignment in D’n’D is always chaotic (and mostly good) my love for a good storage solution can’t be underestimated.
More sunshine than rain in the forecasts.

And now I am off to appreciate the weather while it lasts…same time next week!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

Kathy Reichs – Evil Bones

Jonathan Kellerman – The Ghost Orchid/Open Season

Ian Hunter – Diary of a Rock’n’Roll Star

319: is it safe to come out yet?

This blog post finds me lurking in my lair, dear readers, while untold numbers of small children and twenty/thirty somethings rampage about the garden in the name of GT2’s birthday. There are Fruit Shoots in industrial quantities, brightly coloured icing, one of the twins already has a split lip and there has been a minor meltdown over a small and innocuous beetle on the trampoline. Thing 2 has discovered my hiding place and is querying what I am doing up here….send help, or at least quantities of rum. I have written before about my feelings on children’s birthday parties but apparently when you live in the venue it’s not OK to drop and run. Motherland was entirely too accurate at times, I can tell you. Thing 2 has made the most amazing cake, so I’ll show that off next week – Spiderman and Bluey and other things three year olds like.

It’s been a funny old week all round, to be honest, with things not going terribly wrong but also not going terribly right either. There’s been two days of tube strikes – but not nice polite tube strikes from midnight to midnight, oh no, but midday to midday ones which meant I could get to work or from work on any given day but not (crucially) both on the same day. I support people’s right to strike of course, and more than half of services were running in the end, but it wasn’t guaranteed that the ones you needed would be online.

So I have been at home since Monday and have been really missing my commute – I know, weird but as I noted in lockdown before being happily furloughed, that hour long slice of day between work and home allows my brain to process the difference between work me and home me. So, in desperation, I have been for a long walk every evening after work to clear my head. Thing 2 joined me on Tuesday as we hadn’t been out on Sunday (I went for a glorious lake swim with Rachel instead, and tomorrow I am going with Jill) but on other afternoons I have been out by myself.

I have used the time for the occasional non-work phone call while I’ve been walking, and on Friday it was so sunny and nice that I walked to Toot Hill and had half a cider (knowing I had to walk home and being rubbish at drinking these days) in the courtyard at The Green Man while making friends with some cute dogs and relaxing. It felt like a real treat.

The rest of the week has been conspiring to irritate. On Monday I managed to see a doctor – I had an actual list of things to speak to him about and the 30 minute wait to see him after my appointment time only honed my determination. The ongoing wait to see the rheumatologist consultant again (I now have an appointment over the border in Hertfordshire at the end of May, and I’ll work out how the heck I’ll get there nearer the time), the latest unwanted menopausal symptoms (I had to suggest a solution to him after doing some reading, as he’d have been OK with things carrying on but he’s not living with it. ‘Oh yes, that might be an option’ he said) and the possibility of getting my med review out of the way. It was a helpful visit but then I was that person who left the pharmacy with a large bag full of drugs. Let’s see if things improve, shall we?

Alongside that, my beloved GHD hair straighteners had decided to give up the ghost on Monday morning, with a pretty shower of sparks, an odd crackling noise and strange smell. And I was only halfway through my hair.

On Tuesday night I found the idiot cat calibrating in the middle of the airbed I am currently sleeping on and shortly after I tucked myself up I discovered I was slowly deflating and decamped to the sofa. Fixed the suspiciously claw-shaped puncture on Wednesday but failed to spot the second one, so after another night on the sofa after that sense of deflation, I finally got it sorted with the aid of some sticky fix-everything stuff. Cross fingers it seems OK now, but I now have an emergency airbed just in case.

At work we were supposed to be moving our kit from the offsite office to the Creative Studio but since we had no guarantee we could all get that’s now been postponed to this week when it’ll be done in a patchwork when people are in. I’m only in till Thursday lunchtime before heading to Wales for the long weekend again, but V in my team is queen of the resources so she’ll get it sorted. Let’s hope it all runs smoothly!

And now I had better head down and join the party for a bit….you can thank the newly three year old for the early blog this week!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Fire and Bones – Kathy Reichs

308: time for a time out

There’s a meme that goes about every so often which reminds you that when a two year old is very very quiet you should be very very worried. This was brought home to me last night while I was babysitting for one of the grandbabies. I was sleepy. He was not sleepy as his dad had let him have a nap. He was cuddled up next to me on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, and I dozed off and thought he had too, watching CBeebies Bedtime Stories. It was 11pm, after all, and I’d had a hard day of staring at recruitment software (again).

Dear readers, you will not be surprised to find that I was wrong, and he was not asleep. I awoke to find that the small boy had discovered Thing 1’s stash of day cream and moisturiser (which, to be fair, I had asked her to take upstairs several times) and had anointed himself, the sofa and the Batman plush he’d been snuggling up to with liberal quantities of both. I was not impressed and told him so in my best firm granny voice while I cleaned him up. His response was to put me on time out for telling him off. ‘YOU’RE on time out, KK!’

It’s been a long while since I’ve had to negotiate with small children and I am out of practice, clearly. Last time we had an incident like this was when Thing 2 had had a fight with her sister, when they were about four and six, and in revenge she had very carefully put a large smear of Sudocrem on every single one of Thing 1’s dresses in the wardrobe. Sudocrem is a bit of a pain to get off things it isn’t meant to be on. I don’t think I’d ever considered grounding a four year old before, but she didn’t get to go to her friend’s birthday party that afternoon. I was not her ‘bet wend’ after that, but I was justifiably annoyed about all the extra laundry.

Her brother used to phone the police on his Thomas the Tank Engine toy phone when I wouldn’t let him play Lego Batman, and if magic wands really worked I’d have been a ‘FWOG’ many times over for being a bad mummy. Telling off small people is a hazardous business.

Anyway. Batman is now in the tumble drier and doesn’t seem to be any the worse for his impromptu facial. And his cape is so soft!

Things making me happy this week

A jewellery making afternoon, turning lovely stitch markers from Chapel View Crafts into wearable things.
Catching up to week three on the Wildshore Blanket crochet-a-long – sadly everyone else is on week five now, but there we are.

Getting into The Night Manager on BBC iplayer. It’s very good.
The revival of The Muppet Show on Disney Plus. Please make more, Disney. And bring back the poor haunted Muppet who has been burned before.
Making another ridiculous skirt. So flouncy. Shorter than the last one.
Not the rain. I am so done with rain.

That’s all, folks!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

House of Earth and Blood/House of Sky and Breath – Sarah J. Maas (Audible)

Fair Market Value/Amber Gambler – Hailey Edwards

289: sorry, what?

I was going to write about protest songs this week but I haven’t had time to do the research into it that I wanted to. So I’ve saved it as a draft somewhere else instead and you’ll just have to wait.

Do you know, I’m not sure I managed to get the hang of last week and now here we are on Sunday again. A couple of four day weeks are all very well but at the moment there’s way too much work for those four days. My email inbox is in triple figures when my ideal number is ‘less than 20’. Double figures are but a pipe dream right now, and there have been days when I haven’t even managed to read them all and delete those which don’t require any action.

It’ll all be worth it though, when we welcome all the new team members we’re interviewing (22 interviews down, three to go), when we throw open the gates to a new venue fully committed to accessibility and inclusion, with new programmes for people of all ages and a fantastic set of exhibitions. Until then, I suspect there will be a lot of 4am wake ups. It’s dark at 4am, you know, and even the stupid birds aren’t awake at this time of year – which is an improvement on the peacocks all summer or the angry chickens in France. I think. At least earplugs muffle the birds. Is there a brainplug available? I couldn’t even go downstairs as my living room was full of people asleep on sofas and airbeds.

In a coaching session in July I had a great conversation with someone who helped me work out a plan for just these moments but it involves having five minutes to yourself to do the thing.

It helps (a bit) when you talk to people about what you’re doing and they’re excited, or you talk about access to an expert and you’re doing all the right things, or when people contact you because they want to work with you – or they say yes to your ideas. That was Friday’s meeting with a local SEND school which turns out to be about ten minutes from our site.

What doesn’t help is when public transport conspires against you to ensure that you can’t get anywhere on time: on Wednesday I planned my journey to arrive in Stratford with an hour in hand to get some quiet work done in a coffee shop somewhere. I arrived at Discover with a minute to spare: the bus to Epping was late and then got stuck in traffic, the train took well over an hour to do a journey of 22 minutes, and then they took the train out of service. The rest of the week was not an improvement. There seem to be speed restrictions in place between Epping and Woodford so everything is slow – but not slow enough to be able to claim the journeys back from TfL as that needs to be a delay of 15 minutes or more. Grr. Still, interminable train journeys at least meant I got to start (and finish) this little Autumn Fairy. She fits perfectly in this Bonne Maman jar which I’ve been saving for a moment just like this.

Things not causing me stress this week

The very beautiful Wye Valley, which I walked 15 miles around last Sunday over two walks. The first one was solo and the second was with my sisters and cousins. There’s a lot of uphill, you know. We walked across the Biblins Bridge, had an ice cream in the cafe, an excellent Sunday lunch at the Saracen’s Head and enjoyed the autumn.
By Tuesday I ached all over but I feel in good shape for the Cardiff Half Marathon next Sunday – there is still time to sponsor me as it’s an excellent cause which really annoys the local racists. It would be amazing to make it to £500.

Afternoon tea in aid of Macmillan at Jill’s house on Saturday
Seeing the live action How To Train Your Dragon with Thing 2 on Saturday. A worthy remake – I really enjoyed it.
The right person winning the Sewing Bee for a change (it took a while to catch up)
Conker season
Making a start on stock for the Christmas stalls
The Merlin app – identifying so many different birds. I am a convert from BirdNet now.

Next Sunday I’ll be live and lurching around Cardiff, hoping to come in around the three hour mark – pray for nice weather!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Stone and Sky/What Abigail Did That Summer/Winter’s Gifts – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)

How Not To Be A Supermodel – Ruth Crilly

288: cocktails, cake and cheese

This weekend I am back in the Shire, hanging out with the girl cousins (well, most of them) and slowly stewing myself in the hot tub out on the deck. We’re back at Forest Holidays in Berry Hill, near Coleford – my first proper boyfriend lived round the corner from here and our first date (27 years ago) was at Coleford cinema to see Buster, starring Phil Collins.

A night walk on Friday let us see scores of stars away from towns, a shooting star and the International Space Station zooming across the sky. No wild boars or deer, but lots of tawny owls shrieking.

Two walks on Saturday morning yielded a whole lot of interesting mushrooms and toadstools, as well as a fairy door trail. I kept wandering off the path to peer at treetrunks covered in tiny fungi, narrowly avoiding the acorns plunging down from the trees. They were crashing through the canopy and hitting hard enough to bounce. The afternoon was rainy and the breeze kicked up towards the evening, but the sun came out.

On Saturday afternoon we went to Plates and Shakers for tapas: check out the menus and see if you can decipher what’s in the cocktails, because we couldn’t. We’d booked a table for six, but they only had one for five (but squeezed a group of seven in later, so hmmm) so we squidged up on squashy sofas and drank cava and ate tapas.

Saturday evening was all about cocktails, cake and cheese, celebrating Hev’s birthday in style. Today we’re off to the Saracen’s Head in Symonds Yat for Sunday lunch and then reality must reinsert itself on Tuesday. We’re now planning our next adventure, which may or may not involve ABBA. It’s so lovely having a bunch of people I’ve known all my life to spend time with!

Things making me happy this week

Pumpkins 🎃 – trying to make these tiny pumpkins the right size to go in the small jars I bought has been a bit trial and error but I think I’ve cracked it now. The lovely nail techs at the Nail Bar in Harlow were very taken with them (I was in for a pedicure. Manicures don’t stand up to excessive crocheting)

Being able to go into the office and see people! No tube strikes this week.
Things 2 (with Thing 3 as sous chef) making dinner on Wednesday – Korean Fried Chicken, which was amazing. The worst part of adulting is having to think about dinner Every. Single. Night.
Buying my first Christmas present. Now I must ensure the safe place I put it in is one I can remember.
A long walk in the Forest last Sunday in glorious solitude, to High Beach and back via Copped Hall.
The Merlin Bird App – better than BirdNet. We heard a spotted flycatcher!

This morning if the weather behaves I will head for Symonds Yat Rock to admire the view!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Wild Hares and Hummingbirds – Stephen Moss

Clown Town – Mick Herron

Amongst Our Weapons/Stone and Sky – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)

Monday Monday – Ben Aaronovitch

How Not To Be A Supermodel – Ruth Crilly

284: getting the hang of Thursday

Thursday was GCSE results today for Thing 2 – we were at school for 8am and then went straight to her chosen college to enrol. Jill brought me coffee in the queue, as she works there, and when the doors opened we got her signed up on the Culinary Arts course and kitted out with chef’s whites, her very own apron and oven cloth, and a pair of extremely no-nonsense steel-toe-capped kitchen shoes. I can’t decide whether she looks grown up or dressed up, but I’m extremely relieved that she got the grades she needed and onto the course she wanted. Apparently there is a shortage of patisserie chefs, so I have heroically volunteered as a taste tester should she go down that route.

Thursday afternoon had more drama – I’ve been feeding Ziggy and the Piggies for the last ten days or so* (next door’s mighty hunter cat and guinea pigs, not a Bowie tribute band) and while chatting to the other neighbour she mentioned that she thought Ziggy had caught a magpie but not killed it, as it was sitting on their lawn. Off I went with Doctor Doolittle (aka my Beloved) in tow to see if the ‘pie could be saved. Its wings were working as it kept flapping away from us, but its legs were dragging. We couldn’t see any cat damage, and Ziggy wasn’t around, so after some manoeuvring Dr D managed to get it into a cardboard box and we covered it with a wire frame to prevent cat attack. In between adding bits to my learning strategy I tried contacting the local wildlife rescues in the hope they’d come and help but they said that if the legs were damaged it couldn’t be rehabbed. I phoned the vet and took Mr Magpie (no idea where his wife and/or children were, though obviously I asked as it’s only polite) round to them. I suspect they would have had to put him to sleep, as the new receptionist didn’t look very hopeful, but at least he was safe from cats.

He wasn’t a fledgeling as all his beautiful feathers were in. We have experience with fledgelings, as we once rescued a baby woodpigeon who’d fallen out of the nest and kept him in a box on the trampoline for a couple of weeks while his anxious parents flew down and fed him. I don’t know whether he was a single chick who was just too fat for them to get back off the ground or if he just went too early. Eventually the rest of his feathers grew in and he fledged properly over a couple of days and headed off. We also used to have a collared dove pair who nested in the Christmas tree where the treehouse was and we always enjoyed watching their nestlings hop around on the railings. We’re lucky enough to have a lot of mature trees around the garden, and usually have robins, blue tits (who treat the trampoline net as a climbing frame), blackbird, woodpigeon and magpie families raising chicks every year. There’s a fierce wren who chased Ziggy off, much to his surprise and embarrasment, and a poser of a bullfinch who sits on a tree stump and shows off. The odd sparrowhawk has been known to rest on the edge of the sunroom roof, and the roof pigeons like to sit on the glass roof and wind up the cats.

There’s a gang of teen corvids – a couple of jackdaws, a rook and a magpie – who terrorise the neighbourhood feeders and hang out on roofs cawing, and sometimes we get visits from the village peacocks on a wander. I think they have extended their territory into the woods behind the house as they were regularly waking me up at 4am earlier in the summer despite sleeping in Loop earplugs. Colin the pheasant – named by our builders, who reckoned he strutted about like one of their lads – used to be a regular visitor and was tame enough to hand feed monkey nuts to. We haven’t had a pheasant for a while but we have had badger cubs in the garden again this year, and a fox investigating the Blink camera. I like to sit out and work in the garden and listen to the different songs – the BirdNet app is great for identifying all the different species.

*Ziggy self-catered this morning, however, choosing to picnic on something in our garden. This is fine, as last time I was in charge of him he was leaving me decapitated meeces in the mornings.

Making me happy this week…

This week was vastly improved by the existence of Wednesday which was bracketed by early morning coffee with Amanda and after work (nonalcoholic)* cocktails with Rhiannon. Epping continues to disappoint, as did the High Court interim injunction this week which is bound to be seen as a precedent for all sorts of other councils to take umbrage at the Home Office’s flagrant disregard for change of use applications and so on. Of course this meant there was shouting and celebrating outside the Bell, where the residents are already too scared to leave the building. The ‘decorators’ have been active in our village again, which I hope doesn’t mean they’re going to start terrorising the families in the Phoenix. I am a cynic, so I suspect the lack of public transport and criminal opportunities other than the farm shop and soft play next door might put the hoi polloi off visiting, unless they fancy some expensive sausages and some cake.

Anyway, Rhiannon and I tried a new food hall type place near St Paul’s Station, where I had a ‘Light & Stormy‘ which was remarkably convincing. It had a herbal elixir (an excellent word) instead of dark rum apparently it contains trendy mushrooms. Whatever- I liked it and if it wasn’t just as expensive as rum I might get fonder of it. We didn’t eat although there was a good range of food options. We had agreed ahead of time that we’d spend exactly ten minutes having a rant, although we did add two minutes for AOB (well, expressing our disbelief at members of the local council). We had a timer and everything, and then we had a lovely couple of hours chatting about everything else.

*apart from the tequila slammer that the nice man gave us in exchange for leaving a review.

A solo trip to Harlow where I had a holiday mani/pedi so I have pretty nails – the colour is Thai Chilli Red which isn’t too red or too orange. It wasn’t my first choice but they’d run out of that – red with a burst of gold – and I like it a lot.
Not Amazon, who have annoyed me this week by failing to deliver a parcel three days this week as they were unable to find my front door. Suggesting they got out of the van and walked up the drive was not helpful.

This week I will be working from France, and appreciating not having to think about feeding people or public transport. I shall mostly be shortlisting…

Same time next week, people!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The Furthest Station/The Hanging Tree – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)

The Postman’s Path – Alan Cleaver. meh. Took back to library without finishing as it was disappointing. If ever a book needed Illustration it was this one. He kept going on about sketching and doing walks but there were no sketches shon or even a map. Great premise, poorly executed despite good reviews.

Midnight & Blue – Ian Rankin

The Book of Doors – Gareth Brown

282: smug as a bug in a rug

Press your back button now if part of your summer holiday planning still involves the annual childcare juggle. I’m about to be unbearably smug.

My Horde are now 14, 16 and 19 and while the teenage years come with their own set of challenges (their hormones coming in while mine are going out, romance dramas, friend group angst, the constant growing out of shoes and trousers, to name but a few) those challenges no longer include having to trade off annual leave, swapping childcare with friends or considering packing them off to boarding school and leaving the country till they’re 18. I read all the Chalet School books, I know it’s all kaffe und kuchen every day and midnight feasts and adventures up mountains. They’d have been FINE. Probably.

While we’ve always been amazingly lucky with the various childminders and big sisters who have looked after them over the years, it’s still flipping excellent not to have to worry about it every year.

The flipside is never knowing quite how many teens will be scattered about the house and garden when I get in or who will be around for dinner. If they’re here they get fed and I assume that works when they’re at other people’s houses too. We’ve always operated open door parenting, on the principle that if we’re there for the fun stuff they’ll know the door will still be open for the harder stuff too.

Several nights a week there’s at least two teenagers asleep in the living room, one in the cabin and right now there’s nine people ranging from the ages of two to 27 racing around the garden with water pistols. I’m sitting surrounded by chaos and the remains of an impromptu barbecue and – honestly – I love it. Especially the bit where they just get on with it with no input from me.

It also means I can go and work in France for a week and then have a week of peace before school chaos starts again; go for a drink with colleagues or friends after work; or be at my desk by 8am.

This is not to say parenting teens is a breeze: emotional crises arise, there are still dramas and we’ve got T-level results this week and GCSE results next week but, on balance, I think we’re doing OK.

I expect one day they’ll all leave home and I won’t know what to do with myself but till then I’ll keep embracing the chaos.

Other things making me happy this week:

A lovely day off on Friday with Miriam, with breakfast at the Mayfield Bakery and a very relaxing massage.
Finding Breton cidre at St John after work on Thursday, and remembering how nice it is to do these things.
A peaceful day at Shelley Church fête crocheting toadstools and chatting to nice people. The meerkat went home as a raffle prize with a very excited teenager.
Painting wooden toadstools with Things 1 & 2 in the garden

Finishing a new pig in a blanket as a test for this year’s Christmas offerings

Same time next week then!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Still Water/Nightwalking/The Sheep’s Tale – John Lewis-Stempel

Talk to the Tail – Tom Cox

Whispers Underground/Broken Home/Foxglove Summer – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible]

Midnight and Blue – Ian Rankin

260: where are we now?

Well, maths-wise (if not date-wise) this post marks five years since I started rambling at you all about whatever I was up to – the header image is from March 2020.

My first post was written as we were heading into the original lockdown and I introduced the people and felines who live in the house. It was never intended to be a lockdown diary – I originally registered the domain name as a way to document the reinvention process at Young V&A that I was working on. And then I just carried on as I was enjoying myself. I’m now on a different reinvention project, which is physically on a much smaller scale, but feels like we’d doing something important as there isn’t anywhere in the UK at the moment dedicated to illustration in all its variety.

The family has pretty much reinvented itself too: the cats are the same ones (just older and grumpier) but we’ve added another three grandsons and one blended granddaughter to the mix. The things were 13, 11 and 9 when I started – two in primary school and one in secondary, and now they’re 18, 16 and 14 and one is prepping to leave college for university, one is leaving school for college and one is picking his GCSE options and calling everyone ‘Bruv’.

I’ve probably crocheted my way through several marathons’ worth of yarn, and I still haven’t finished the Seurat cross stitch I was working on (really must pick that up again). I’ve tried out many new crafts, for which I don’t have nearly enough time, and made a whole lot of clothes and quilts. I’ve written 258,827 words (just under 1000 a week on average), which is quite a lot really. 2023 was the year I wrote the fewest words, but I did spend the first six months of that year training for a couple of ultras and so I walked a lot of miles instead. I think that’s an excellent excuse – it was certainly a memorable 50th year, I spent much time with family in the process and we raised money for an excellent cause. I’d quite like to do it again… I’ve read an enormous number of books, some of them several times – I’m looking at you, Pratchett, Aaronovitch and co – occasionally I think I should do what my sister does and just make one big list and if I could work out how to do pages on this thing as well as posts I might.

Most of the last 260 posts have been cheerful moments, but at times I’ve been frustrated and angry at things like sexual harassment, inane political decisions, school dinners, and the marginalisation of arts and craft. I’ve been honest and open about mental health and parenting and navigating these things with the added joy of peri- and menopause. It’s nice to have a little corner of the internet of my own, mostly, and I enjoy recording my week and being able to frame what I’m thinking. Other people reading it is a bonus….so thank you to everyone who comes along for the ride. And to my Dad, who binges once a month. (Hello Dad). Not so much to my Beloved who says if there’s anything he needs to know I can just tell him about it.

I’ve also liked reflecting on all the things that make me happy each week so without further ado it’s…

Things making me happy this week

Taking part in a ‘Today at Apple’ session where we got to use the Apple Pencil Pro to do drawing and things. I went along with my very talented colleague Silvie, who knows which end of an iPad is which. I’d like to live in the Apple Store, they’re always so calm. I’m also quite tempted by an iPad but that’s because I have a butterfly brain.
The weather! Thing 2 and I had a sundown walk on Monday and she was disturbed by the fact that everyone was smiling and saying hello – that’s the effect of the sunshine!
Not going to work in the dark in the morning.
Finishing the jumper I’ve been making, modelled beautifully by Thing 2, and starting a hexie cardi with the frogged Hydrangea blanket
Getting a book in the post – hurray for magazine competitions!
Not BlueSky, who suspended me for activity breaking their community guidelines – which confused me as I’d only had the account for three days, had followed one person and posted once.

Today I am off for a long solo walk, probably through the Forest as despite the sunshine off-road is still a swamp. This is annoying as there are many footpaths I have yet to explore.

Same time next week!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

The Ballad of Smallhope and Pennyroyal – Jodi Taylor

The Raging Storm – Anne Cleeves

Snuff/The Truth – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

The Trouble with the Cursed – Kim Harrison