Tuesday 2 November 2010
Wednesday 23 December 2009
All to quickly
I am indulging in a favourite hobby of mine. It is just unfortunate that this particular hobby evokes in others the image of a little old lady with a multi-coloured shawl rocking back and forth in her chair in front of a fireplace with her cat beside her and a cup of tea. I am not, as it happens, a little old lady. Occasionally I may feel like one.
This hobby is of course 'crochet.' But, I am pleased to say, the range of modern, fashionable crochet patterns is growing and I have several projects on the go at once. Some of which I may even finish. These patterns range from hats and scarves, to jumpers, coats and bags. They're great for accessories to match what ever you like, and a lot of them don't actually take that long to do.
I recently finished an evening wrap, which I could probably sell in Debenhams for hundreds, but instead cost me very little. Unfortunately the best place I found for good, everyday yarns at reasonable prices is called Michaels, and is in America. The availability of yarn in this country is pathetic and costs the earth. A beautiful pattern I found recently required, for a pair of long gloves, two skeins of hand-dyed wool, a mere snip at £16 per skein. I have filed that pattern away until I can explore America for the cheaper alternative.
I have found a few patterns recently that I liked the look of, but haven't bought yet, due to the immense work involved. For example, I saw this funky, bright Afghan that would be great to brighten up the conservatory: http://www.e-patternscentral.com/detail.html?prod_id=3374&cat_id=2 But it is one of those projects you have to really dedicate a lot of time to (look at the number of different colours in that thing! I'd need a whole sack of wool for it). So I'll wait until I've finished the projects I'm on first.
Well, I also have Mum's chunky knitting machine up. I'm working on a new jumper (the weather called for it). It's been on hold for the past month or so because of my hand operation, but I'm back now and intend to finish it for the new year (so I can start another one).
Now, back to the beret I'm making for my Granny and the doily I'm making for my mother. Does anyone else see the irony?
This hobby is of course 'crochet.' But, I am pleased to say, the range of modern, fashionable crochet patterns is growing and I have several projects on the go at once. Some of which I may even finish. These patterns range from hats and scarves, to jumpers, coats and bags. They're great for accessories to match what ever you like, and a lot of them don't actually take that long to do.
I recently finished an evening wrap, which I could probably sell in Debenhams for hundreds, but instead cost me very little. Unfortunately the best place I found for good, everyday yarns at reasonable prices is called Michaels, and is in America. The availability of yarn in this country is pathetic and costs the earth. A beautiful pattern I found recently required, for a pair of long gloves, two skeins of hand-dyed wool, a mere snip at £16 per skein. I have filed that pattern away until I can explore America for the cheaper alternative.
I have found a few patterns recently that I liked the look of, but haven't bought yet, due to the immense work involved. For example, I saw this funky, bright Afghan that would be great to brighten up the conservatory: http://www.e-patternscentral.com/detail.html?prod_id=3374&cat_id=2 But it is one of those projects you have to really dedicate a lot of time to (look at the number of different colours in that thing! I'd need a whole sack of wool for it). So I'll wait until I've finished the projects I'm on first.
Well, I also have Mum's chunky knitting machine up. I'm working on a new jumper (the weather called for it). It's been on hold for the past month or so because of my hand operation, but I'm back now and intend to finish it for the new year (so I can start another one).
Now, back to the beret I'm making for my Granny and the doily I'm making for my mother. Does anyone else see the irony?
Tuesday 6 October 2009
Situations
I have two. I collect them.
NaNoWriMo - I can’t believe the hype has started already. I have signed up. I have thought about it. I have gotten excited. I have doubted myself. And I am still not quite sure that this novel idea (which was last years’ failed attempt) will keep me going for 50,000 words. I will have to mull over the idea and see if I can uncover any really clever plot twists or completely re-write the idea altogether. At least this year I won’t be foiled by a University course, or influenza (I hope).
On a completely different topic, I now understand what it means to ‘dance the night away’ with someone. Whoever wrote the song ‘I could have danced all night’ has obviously not tried it with Modern Jive. I am so unfit. That is entirely my own fault. And so is the situation I find myself in. Girl meets man, man dances girl off feet, man walks girl to her car, man kisses girl, girl notices man has ‘in a relationship’ on his facebook, girl does not confront man (yet). Girl instead agrees to go to the cinema with man and possibly a dance on Saturday, and even lunch, if she fancies driving all the way to his work for his lunch break.
I really don’t know how I get myself into these situations.
Facebook is evil. That is my conclusion to this short but turbid post. And it should be destroyed.
Except that, without it, millions of people would have nothing to do all day.
NaNoWriMo - I can’t believe the hype has started already. I have signed up. I have thought about it. I have gotten excited. I have doubted myself. And I am still not quite sure that this novel idea (which was last years’ failed attempt) will keep me going for 50,000 words. I will have to mull over the idea and see if I can uncover any really clever plot twists or completely re-write the idea altogether. At least this year I won’t be foiled by a University course, or influenza (I hope).
On a completely different topic, I now understand what it means to ‘dance the night away’ with someone. Whoever wrote the song ‘I could have danced all night’ has obviously not tried it with Modern Jive. I am so unfit. That is entirely my own fault. And so is the situation I find myself in. Girl meets man, man dances girl off feet, man walks girl to her car, man kisses girl, girl notices man has ‘in a relationship’ on his facebook, girl does not confront man (yet). Girl instead agrees to go to the cinema with man and possibly a dance on Saturday, and even lunch, if she fancies driving all the way to his work for his lunch break.
I really don’t know how I get myself into these situations.
Facebook is evil. That is my conclusion to this short but turbid post. And it should be destroyed.
Except that, without it, millions of people would have nothing to do all day.
Wednesday 30 September 2009
More space. Anyone?
Yes! I have finished my course. I have passed. I am now a Newly Qualified Teacher (NQT) and must undertake a probationary year before the government will let me teach the little b*ggers my way.
The problem now seems to be the sudden and complete lack of NQT positions at schools within reasonable driving distance of my home. I have, by the way, moved back in with my parents. But more on this another time.
After having read a recent article by Starlingford (never accept food from this man) I was appalled to hear of the undeserved and entirely inexcusable abuse of Shakespeare and am bothered by this story. And possibly, if I can find the energy, a bit upset.
"O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!"
To read more about this heinous crime (and his latest culinary disa… venture) visit his blog here. He is also a dreadfully fussy eater. Just ask him for a list of the things he won’t eat. It’ll keep him busy for days.
And, on a side note, there’s a good butcher in Aberdeen who does pheasant. And a couple of good farm shops too. The big Tesco also does quails eggs. I liked cooking in Aberdeen. I made a wonderful roast duck dish once that I had to make again for my family (never mind that my Mother doesn’t eat duck). I could have done with two ducks, really, and an extra bottle of ale, but it worked. And they loved it (including Mum. Go figure.)
Student life doesn’t normally stretch to fancy foods. But here at home I have a decent kitchen to work in. Something I’ve not had for a year. What ever possessed me to go back into halls?
What am I doing right now? Unpacking boxes and boxes of my stuff. I have no space. I need more shelves. Many, many, many more shelves.
And I can’t find my recipe books.
*twitch*
The problem now seems to be the sudden and complete lack of NQT positions at schools within reasonable driving distance of my home. I have, by the way, moved back in with my parents. But more on this another time.
After having read a recent article by Starlingford (never accept food from this man) I was appalled to hear of the undeserved and entirely inexcusable abuse of Shakespeare and am bothered by this story. And possibly, if I can find the energy, a bit upset.
"O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!"
To read more about this heinous crime (and his latest culinary disa… venture) visit his blog here. He is also a dreadfully fussy eater. Just ask him for a list of the things he won’t eat. It’ll keep him busy for days.
And, on a side note, there’s a good butcher in Aberdeen who does pheasant. And a couple of good farm shops too. The big Tesco also does quails eggs. I liked cooking in Aberdeen. I made a wonderful roast duck dish once that I had to make again for my family (never mind that my Mother doesn’t eat duck). I could have done with two ducks, really, and an extra bottle of ale, but it worked. And they loved it (including Mum. Go figure.)
Student life doesn’t normally stretch to fancy foods. But here at home I have a decent kitchen to work in. Something I’ve not had for a year. What ever possessed me to go back into halls?
What am I doing right now? Unpacking boxes and boxes of my stuff. I have no space. I need more shelves. Many, many, many more shelves.
And I can’t find my recipe books.
*twitch*
Tuesday 25 August 2009
Inspired
Today I sat outside under our lanai in Orlando, Florida, watching the tropical storm make its afternoon visit with style and gusto. Brilliant flash of lightening followed by a terrifying clap and rumble of thunder that literally travelled the sky from horizon to horizon, one after the other with barely a pause for breath. It was incredible. I don’t know why, but the atmosphere really inspired me to write. So I did. I took out my netbook and settled happily in a chair to sort out my writing. I feel good. Like I have achieved something spiritually worthwhile. I don’t care if I never get read by anyone, I feel good about having written. I haven’t written much, as it took all of two hours to get the new netbook up-to-date enough to open half of my files. And to synchronise it with my desktop back in England.
Speaking of which, the new villa is beautiful. The furniture is great, the pool-deck furniture is comfortable (as I found out this afternoon) and basically the American Dream my family has always wanted has arrived. Not many people can boast a family villa in a sought-after area of Orlando. It’s not huge, being four bedroom-three bathroom, but it is plenty big enough for our family of four and our grandparents, and will sleep eight. So it’s more than good enough.
Our ever-so-handy pool manager came and lowered the pool level so that the adjusted pumps could circulate the water past the filter, which caught most of the little bugs that end up floating on the surface. This is a very good thing. I shall try it out over the next few days, to see if it has had the desired bug-free effect.
Back to my afternoon organising my writing. I started a novel in September that progressed to chapter three and then inevitably ended. Real life got in the way. Which sucks, but what can you do? Besides ditch something important, like sleeping. And in a profession where you have to keep on top of 30 kids, being awake suddenly becomes more important. So writing got put on hold. No wonder I was miserable for the year.
Still, I learned something from reviewing my three chapters. Well, several somethings, actually, but I’ll start with one. Chapter length. I write my chapters in separate files. And checking the word count of these files has told me that I need to get my chapter lengths sorted out. The prologue was a simple line explaining what was to happen, to be filled in later. Chapter one was over 6,800 words. Chapter two was under 2,500. This obviously is not right.
After reading a lot of gumph on the web, I decided to make up my own mind about chapter length. I like the idea of ‘cutting the movie scene’. Basically, the writer ends the chapter in the same way a movie editor would cut a scene. When it ‘feels’ right. But from now on, I’m going to aim to keep chapters between 2,500 and 5,000 words. Which means chapter one will probably become two chapters. Thus upsetting the sequence. But at least the sequence only goes as far as chapter three. If I had to re-name twenty-three chapters I’d be less happy.
The second thing I discovered is that I have a thing for men with red hair. I need to have fewer of them in my stories. End of discussion.
Thirdly, I have a tendency to describe a character’s mundane, every-day chores. As well detailed as they are and quite well written – if I don’t say so myself – they contribute very little to the story and will probably end up cut-and-pasted into the dreaded ‘edit out’ file. Darn. There goes my chapter lengths again.
Finally, I think I need some encouragement. I know my writing improves with every word I write and that my style will develop on its own if I let it, but this isn’t easy when everyone around you is trying to distract you because their need is more important (the dishes, making a pot of tea, the need to discuss the hoovering of the rug in the living room, and so on). I need someone to tell me I’m doing good and to keep it up. It’s amazing how well people thrive when they have a little encouragement from someone. Anyone.
We never grow up, really. Do we.
Speaking of which, the new villa is beautiful. The furniture is great, the pool-deck furniture is comfortable (as I found out this afternoon) and basically the American Dream my family has always wanted has arrived. Not many people can boast a family villa in a sought-after area of Orlando. It’s not huge, being four bedroom-three bathroom, but it is plenty big enough for our family of four and our grandparents, and will sleep eight. So it’s more than good enough.
Our ever-so-handy pool manager came and lowered the pool level so that the adjusted pumps could circulate the water past the filter, which caught most of the little bugs that end up floating on the surface. This is a very good thing. I shall try it out over the next few days, to see if it has had the desired bug-free effect.
Back to my afternoon organising my writing. I started a novel in September that progressed to chapter three and then inevitably ended. Real life got in the way. Which sucks, but what can you do? Besides ditch something important, like sleeping. And in a profession where you have to keep on top of 30 kids, being awake suddenly becomes more important. So writing got put on hold. No wonder I was miserable for the year.
Still, I learned something from reviewing my three chapters. Well, several somethings, actually, but I’ll start with one. Chapter length. I write my chapters in separate files. And checking the word count of these files has told me that I need to get my chapter lengths sorted out. The prologue was a simple line explaining what was to happen, to be filled in later. Chapter one was over 6,800 words. Chapter two was under 2,500. This obviously is not right.
After reading a lot of gumph on the web, I decided to make up my own mind about chapter length. I like the idea of ‘cutting the movie scene’. Basically, the writer ends the chapter in the same way a movie editor would cut a scene. When it ‘feels’ right. But from now on, I’m going to aim to keep chapters between 2,500 and 5,000 words. Which means chapter one will probably become two chapters. Thus upsetting the sequence. But at least the sequence only goes as far as chapter three. If I had to re-name twenty-three chapters I’d be less happy.
The second thing I discovered is that I have a thing for men with red hair. I need to have fewer of them in my stories. End of discussion.
Thirdly, I have a tendency to describe a character’s mundane, every-day chores. As well detailed as they are and quite well written – if I don’t say so myself – they contribute very little to the story and will probably end up cut-and-pasted into the dreaded ‘edit out’ file. Darn. There goes my chapter lengths again.
Finally, I think I need some encouragement. I know my writing improves with every word I write and that my style will develop on its own if I let it, but this isn’t easy when everyone around you is trying to distract you because their need is more important (the dishes, making a pot of tea, the need to discuss the hoovering of the rug in the living room, and so on). I need someone to tell me I’m doing good and to keep it up. It’s amazing how well people thrive when they have a little encouragement from someone. Anyone.
We never grow up, really. Do we.
Monday 15 June 2009
Goldfish
Because I have a memory like one.
Having just re-discovered this blog lurking resentfully in the depths of my bookmark folder, I have decided to resurrect it. How long it will stay thus, I do not know. But goodness knows I have a lot to talk about recently.
How is life? Well, the PGCE (that's Postgraduate Certificate of Education to the uneducated) is nearing the end of its long, arduous efforts to ruin my life, my heart rate, my health and the quantity of hair on my head. The last four weeks (yes, FOUR! WOO!) will be hell. But then, every other week so far has also been hell. So this is not really a change so much as a progression.
I will soon pass into the 'University Tutor's Final Visit' level of hell and then the extent of my stay (will I fail and have to re-sit the placement, or will I pass into the world of Newly Qualified Teacher (NQT) with all the scars and twitches thereof) will be revealed. Wish me luck.
Speaking of hell, has anyone tried teaching four different year groups at once? I have year 3 to 6 (ages 7-11, for the confused, foreign or the old). It's a huge age range and the differentiation (I sleep with that word on my lips) is a nightmare.
On the plus side, I am now developing a lovely, Polgara-like streak of silver-white hair on the right side of my head. It's developed from a few hairs (September) to LOTS of hairs. And the other teachers said this year would be the hardest of my life. Bah.
*twitch*
Shall I tell you about my current school? Maybe not. I am still there. So to vent my true feelings would be to fail my final placement completely. Another time maybe.
Instead, I'll tell you about our family's shiny new villa in Orlando. It's in a beautiful (and expensive) area of Florida about 10 minutes drive from Disney, Universal, Florida Mall and all the delights of the sunshine state. I shall be spending about four weeks there this summer with various members of the family, lounging in the private pool, lounging on the leather suite, sleeping on the new, oak-framed beds, eating wonderful food in the beautiful kitchen, shopping in the fabulous Florida Mall and various book shops attached, and trying to stay out of the aforementioned sun.
I deserve it.
Maybe my twitch will come with me.
Having just re-discovered this blog lurking resentfully in the depths of my bookmark folder, I have decided to resurrect it. How long it will stay thus, I do not know. But goodness knows I have a lot to talk about recently.
How is life? Well, the PGCE (that's Postgraduate Certificate of Education to the uneducated) is nearing the end of its long, arduous efforts to ruin my life, my heart rate, my health and the quantity of hair on my head. The last four weeks (yes, FOUR! WOO!) will be hell. But then, every other week so far has also been hell. So this is not really a change so much as a progression.
I will soon pass into the 'University Tutor's Final Visit' level of hell and then the extent of my stay (will I fail and have to re-sit the placement, or will I pass into the world of Newly Qualified Teacher (NQT) with all the scars and twitches thereof) will be revealed. Wish me luck.
Speaking of hell, has anyone tried teaching four different year groups at once? I have year 3 to 6 (ages 7-11, for the confused, foreign or the old). It's a huge age range and the differentiation (I sleep with that word on my lips) is a nightmare.
On the plus side, I am now developing a lovely, Polgara-like streak of silver-white hair on the right side of my head. It's developed from a few hairs (September) to LOTS of hairs. And the other teachers said this year would be the hardest of my life. Bah.
*twitch*
Shall I tell you about my current school? Maybe not. I am still there. So to vent my true feelings would be to fail my final placement completely. Another time maybe.
Instead, I'll tell you about our family's shiny new villa in Orlando. It's in a beautiful (and expensive) area of Florida about 10 minutes drive from Disney, Universal, Florida Mall and all the delights of the sunshine state. I shall be spending about four weeks there this summer with various members of the family, lounging in the private pool, lounging on the leather suite, sleeping on the new, oak-framed beds, eating wonderful food in the beautiful kitchen, shopping in the fabulous Florida Mall and various book shops attached, and trying to stay out of the aforementioned sun.
I deserve it.
Maybe my twitch will come with me.
Wednesday 1 October 2008
I shall regret this
Well, I said I wouldn't do it. But I have. Everything is piling up around me. My PGCE (yes, I am that insane) is trying to ruin my life and my social life (new man, new man!) is a little rocky. I promised I would take it easy on myself. As much as anyone can when entering the terrifying world if primary school teaching. I promised myself. I did.
And I broke that promise.
I agreed to do NaNoWriMo this November.
I will suffer.
I will probably fail.
But I will do it anyway.
And I broke that promise.
I agreed to do NaNoWriMo this November.
I will suffer.
I will probably fail.
But I will do it anyway.
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