most wonderful time of the year?!?!

some might say so

and i am one of them

its the christmas markets as of today, people, and i am so excited. five pm today, watch me, i'm gone, down that oldham road, across town and then i shall delve into the christmassy, cosy, colourfully-lit wonderland of albert square...the smells and the laughing and the -I WANT THAT-s and the -ooooooh look at that brooch!just looks it it!-s and the bratwurst which i like the smell of and the idea of but not so much the eating.

saddle up friends, we are in for a glorious thirty-nine day sleigh ride to the fun and food of christmas...follow me, its going to be a good one!!

so..

tonight i am going here

(the cafe rene, gloucester..)

to drink some of this:

(several pints of draught weston's stowford press...west country in a glass..)

and hang out with the

(bear, the...lovely)

and then tomorrow, joy of joys, we are going here:

(westonbirt arboretum...in autumn...with a lovely man...also with nick+ang...day of fun....followed by fireworks at the docks in gloucester..and more stowfords...and then poker at rob and amy's.....can you imagine how giddy i'd be right now if i weren't so tired...?!)

not long now...

less=more

so right now the leaves are giving up on the trees. they're falling away, and leaving the tree behind..they gotta go...and they go so beautifully. there really wasn't any need for god to make it so, was there?

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

LOOK!!!!!

whoop!!

steve is going to be here tomorrow.
can you believe it?!

ok these are some of the things i like about him

he is funny. in a way that i'm not sure other people find funny but in a way that i certainly find funny.
he has the greyest of grey eyes which i had never thought to be a good thing but am now converted.
he is very kind and thoughtful. not in a make-you-a-card girl way, just in a thoughtful-boy way
when he is next to me i feel tiny. and after a lifetime of feeling like a big fat giant, my joy at experiencing this delightful sensation cannot be overstated.
he is full of fun facts to know and tell......as many of you will know, while i appear to be quite bright, am in fact a dunce at knowing how things work etc. he's good in explaining hows and becauses.
he witters. almost as badly as me
he knows alot of words. it won't surprise you to know that i find a wide range of vocabulary a pleasing attribute in a man.
ok sorry you probably didn't need all that....i'm done now don't worry

so i keep doing this thing lately, where when i'm in work and walk past one of our many unsold mirrors, or am in the bathroom about to clean my teeth, or in my room about to straighten my hair..............i turn to the mirror and i'm smiling. before i get there, already smiling. its become a bit of a feature.

a strange thing, when at last it happens.....

happy happy birthday.....

to fiona jane ezra hayward....

twenty-two today...

and a beauty, to be sure....

love you fifi trixabelle!!xxxxxxx

is there

anything more pleasant to have in your nose than the smell of autumn...?!
seriously..
i went out for a walk round ancoats today at lunchtime....travel-mug of coffee, a very rare smoking-during-school-hours occassion, and just walked, breathed in the air, listened to the kooks, looked at the cold bright day and, well...thought about a lovely man.
i know i keep going on about autumnal bliss but i really am giddier on a bright cold dry day than on any other. i think it wakes me up somehow. i think maybe part of me hibernates during summer...and i've got my smashing new winter coat (MT £2!!) and re-heeled winter boots...
seven weeks til the markets....

the world at one..

for anyone who still reads this..the news from lunchtime today..

me: hi

john: What's going on Hayward?
What's the news?

me: the news is do you guys want to go to trof for a beer tonight?

john: I can't tonight. I've promised I'd see a friend at chess

me: well news goes stale you know

john: I know

me: i could just tell you now

john: I'm already feeling it
And I've not even heard it yet

me: now? you want news now?

john: Well I could hear it now and then you could tell me again ?
How long does the news take?

me: two minutes

john: great

me: ok

john: ok

me: so i told you about the bear of a man
from the wedding

john: yeah

me: i went to london on saturday and met him in the afternoon

john: cool

me: we mooched around on the south bank, looked at books and old maps
mooched some more
went to a pub
sat outside and had two pints of cider over about two hours
talking talking

john: yeah

me: me liking him more

john: ok
this is like a Jane Austin novel
Lorna would love it

me: then we got a tube up to oxford street and went for a roam in behind the main roads and then ate pizza outside this fun pizza place..the kind of one that actually makes you feel like you're in europe and on holiday
loved it

john: I, too, love it

me: so we sat outside of there eating pizza and smoking
and lots more talking
and drinking wine

john: don't stop
I can't bear it
and then......?

me: and i'd told emily who i was staying with that i'd be back at half nine to have a drink with her and helen who is our other friend (these are friends from glos) so then it was ten o'clock and i'd had wine and lost track of time and i didn't fancy my chances of finding my way home by myself
his train home wasn't for ages

john: ok

me: so i said why don't you figuratively speaking walk me home, ie, tube and bus me home
he seemed very pleased not to be being sent home

john: right

me: so then we went down to oxford circus tube and then

john: then what?

me: there was hand holding

john: no way!
he held your hand
ok
keep going

me: and then when we were on the escalator going down to the tube, he was on the step in front of me and so we were the same height, it was the perfect moment and he took it..
kissed me jolly well there and then on the escalator

john: wow!

me: yep

john: What did you do?

me: kissed him jolly well back

john: ok then

me: obviously it was a limited time offer thing, we were on an escalator so someone was going to fall over
and then got the tube
then got a bus
then we got to em's

john: right
then what?

me: and then he came in with me and we hung out on the balcony with the girls for an hour and drank wine and smoked
and they loved him.

john: ahh
then what?

me: so then he had to go so i walked him to the bus then i said i like you and he said i really like you too and then he walked away and then i shouted after him 'bagsie not telling nick! (my brother)' and he was like 'oh no...' and then got on the bus
it was very funny
he looked gutted at me having bagsied it first

john: I bet he was
and what a lovely end to a very great day
and story

john: told exceptionally well
I must say

me: he's coming to visit in a few weeks and i'd very much like you and lorna to meet him..i'm not sure when it is but i think you'd really like him

john: ok
I'll get my hair done specially
don't want him thinking your friends are unclean

me: no indeed
and
he's going to tell nick.

john: Congratulations!

me: tonight
on the phone, which is good, for me, because i didn't want to do it

john: are you nervous?

me: about nick?

john: yeah
they're best friends, right?
who's the biggest?

me: yes..only because i've liked his friend before, a different friend, and he was thoroughly opposed to the idea
they are a very similar size

john: who's win in a fight?

me: i think steve might be a bit bigger
oh man
i really don't know who'd win

john: o

me: that is an excellent question

john: you better find out
in case anything happens

me: they are both very bear-like

john: ok
but gentle too perhaps?

me: indeed

john: I love your life

me: hahahhahahhaha

john: see you on wednesday hopefully

me: have fun in the shire!!
love to lorna
xx

john : thanks
x
bye

ursa major

potential confirmed

autumnally

I’m so excited
Last night, I got home to my flat after London, baby and It was cold….got in bed, cold…slept like a baby………woke up, cold…put big jumper and long jeans on….stepped outside….air - cold….sky - clear….sun - trying…oh and its autumn, people!!!!
I’m bursting with the excitement of it all…..
Honestly, I looked for new winter boots today, and am bringing my pile of winter coats into town tomorrow to get them cleaned. I am thinking about advent and gluwein and fireworks and mittens.
I know, cate and helen, its sheer madness to you, but love me, love my woolly hat…

The (recent) Times Rich (in life) List..

sleep - good..isn't it...? finally...almost two weeks of good sleep now...and i'm tired, alot, because the floodgates are opened, and the months of awakeness are stamping down my door telling me i owe them sleep....the sleep baliffs....and i give in....its good...

wedding - good..i officially love being a bridesmaid..i have never been hugged so many times in one day..never looked so hot...never grinned so much..never drank so much wine...never been to the cafe rene til four am in a posh frock before (yeah we bridesmaids and ushers snuck off to our local after it was all over and rolled home when we'd had enough...)

friends - good (in a crisis, you can rely on hawkes and sal for movies and wine, at work i can trust in the support and encouragement of friends, in the shire i can know that friends love to see me arrive back..some far away friends are happier than i have seen them ever, and some closer to home are nesting, or nursing black eyes, or falling in love, and each one of them surprises me a little more ever year that passes....)

the anticipation of christmas - good.....a little early perhaps, but the nights are darker, and while that means fewer balmy evenings (although i think we had about four of them all 'summer', at last count!) it also means mittens and red starbucks cups and the markets and the delicious joys of advent....can't wait...

god - good (this is not exactly breaking news, perhaps, but reminders are ever-helpful)

family - good (i adore them. i love how collectively happy we were at the wedding and either side of it. my dad beaming, my mum giddy, fiona the belle of the ball, jimmy in tow who was quite the hit, and nick and angela as happy as children, just pure happy...)

skirts - good (its a late end o'the summer campaign to bring back skirts..)

men - good (well, just one..and he's more potentially good, rather than confirmed as good...we'll see...)

'mark watson makes the world substantially better' - good (radio four late-night comedy and my new favourite comedian!)

work - good..just good..

manchester being sunny in september like we've been holding out for - good

hanging out with denno - good..been chuffing ages..worth the wait...

john simpson books - good

the holiday - good..jack black..what a guy..

wallet getting stolen - not as bad as when phone got stolen

nicely painted nails - good

new frizz ease conditioner purchased with advantage card points - good

i think i'm done...

sorry its been so freaking long....i've missed this!!love you x

ok, ok.

lo siento

i suck at this these days, i'm sorry!
lunchtime today, i promise....
les agradezco su paciencia

no somos enemigos..

sending big love from over here...

its a shit time....

we must be the change we want to see.....

oh for god's sake..

please, president bush, get a grip
this morning, this is one of the thoughts that began my day as i listening us usual to radio four and today
the guy goes to war
he helps impose a carefully chosen leadership over a shambolic nation
and then four years later, joins the rest of the world in verbally assaulting the guy that he chose to lead the beleaguered state because things aren't going how he had hoped.
Mr Bush said the Iraqi government would ultimately be judged by the Iraqi people.
"The fundamental question is: will the government respond to the demands of the people? And, if the government doesn't demand - or respond to the demands of the people, they will replace the government. That's up to the Iraqis to make that decision, not American politicians."
no, what you mean is, you will somehow ending up arming the people until they overthrown their government....but probably once you are out of power and ceo of some international evil arms corp that'll make sure we mess them up good and proper this time, even if all-told it takes a generation of us marines dying to do it....
what a knob
i literally despair of him, his pals, his observations, his logic.....
literally

whoop

sleep cometh..
thanks guys...
i feel so quietly sure that something truly changed
may the lord be praised..

ouch..

two nights in a row..
last night, to its credit, wasn't so bad..it was only about three am, maybe three-thirty before i got to sleep
two night in a row is very rare...
i feel so special

no i don't, i feel very, very tired....

sunrise...

So I didn’t sleep well again last night
Its averaging out at about once a week now.
And it always, but always, happens on a day when I’ve said the words ‘oh, so much better these days, thanks.’ In answer to the question ‘are you sleeping any better now?’
I call that a kick in the teeth, amigos, don’t you?!
a friend of mine said to me the other day that she loses about one night’s sleep in every three or four. And no its not a friend who has babies, just a friend who much more humbly and noiselessly gets on with her own part-time insomnia and doesn’t go round moaning about it like I do!
But it freaks me out, and I know that that’s half the trouble – that on a school-night, I lie there and am a)freaked out by being awake on a school-night and therefore will end up struggling at work the next day (although god almost invariably comes up trumps for me with an extra abundant helping of energy and patience on the post-no—sleep-days…) and b) by the notion that there must be something inherently and irreparably wrong with me and my psyche and my wretched nerves and my sheer ability to obsess and fear that can only be described as my mother’s greatest genetically-bequeathed gift to me…
(And I love her for it, obviously….!!)
lately I have seen a friend emerge from years of having a rubbish time, and by that I mean grief and depression and fear on a scale you should never have to go through, into a life where things are colourfully possible…and has done all that without yet knowing jesus….
And more lately still I have watched as another friend decided to get some help, opt for sanity and work his way out of the hole he was in….
And me, I’m just cycling in my cycle of night-terror and sunrise dread…..no-one should fear the sunrise…but on the nights when you have the hungry hoards to feed the next day, the sunrise isn’t exactly your best friend….its a sure-fire sign that all hope of sleep is gone…I reckon I beat it by about two minutes last night, probably getting to sleep around four, four-fifteen…wait, what time is sunrise round here these days….?
Checking…
No actually I beat it by quite some time, seems it doesn’t really hit us til 0548…slacker…
The amazing thing is that everytime this happens, I freak out less and less….and am learning to trust god with my sanity…and with work the next day, and with the idea that it may not always be like this, but that even if it is, if part-time insomnia is to be some sort of thorn in my side, then a) I had jolly well better get on with learning how to make that time count and b) I will still be alright. i will always be alright.
God’s sneaky
Its win-win when it looks like lose-lose.
And that, my friends, is my own unique and soon-to-be patented summary of the gospels of our lord jesus…amen…
Hope you have a lovely day xxxx

howstuffworks..

i invariably don't know how things work.
this is a well-known fact about me.
over the years, russell has given me periodic science lessons on many things...boats, cds, trains, radios, and the like....
however, howstuffworks.com is a brilliant website, that keeps me informed and educated while russell is away...
if i have questions they know the answer.
i also now have a feed from this site that lands daily on my igoogle page telling me a fun set of new facts to know and tell, on a particular theme....sometimes fireworks, sometime egg timers, you know..

and today, the howstuffworks offering is this.....

how stuff works: the rules of war...

today

i am in work and while pretty much most staff are away, the dream team is in session:

me, paul and mrs trivino..

i do like my job!

the town mouse and the country mouse..

was one of my favourite books when i was little. but it distressed me quite alot. and this is because i am easily swayed, and because i can understand both the terror of being a country mouse in a big town, and the vast emptiness and all its associated fear, for a town mouse who finds himself in the country.
lately i feel i have certain dilemmas on my hands, about do i stay in manchester, or do i head back for the west country, to london, to ireland even....
i am no further along the road to having an answer, but the questions pose yet more questions about what sort of a mouse i am....
when i think of jon and ellie, tucked away in their walesville setting, far from the localised horrors of moss side, no more tossed about by this fickle city of ours....i am filled with this glad envy....and when i am here, in my parents' pink house, it is not the country, but the country is a mere stone's throw, and you can feel it...and there is a larder and space and seagulls...and then there is the far west country, land of my birth and the home of the freshest air these shores can offer...but part of me, even now after a year of it being part of my day, is still slightly enchanted by the grim creativity and secretive depth of the northern quarter....and rusholme high street never tires for me....and the walk up arrow-straight wilbraham road to trof is well-trodden and is perfect for a good music-while-walking time....
and so you see i am divided....geography getting the better of me once more. there is a part of me that would like nothing more than the jam-making, egg-collecting and fete-planning of the country life of a farmer's wife....
and yet i walk up oldham street, as as per previous posts, navigate my way through the pawn and porn shops, witch supplies shops and rehashed retro clothing shops and dirty, dirty pubs full of either casually dirty young creative types, or determinedly dirty old men, and i find a bizarre peace...i think it comes from knowing that all would continue such if i were not there, for it is as has has been since lowry and before...
but then the farm wouldn't be going anywhere either, would it..
no-where needs me, you see, and its liberating and terrifying at the same time...
my head is spinning a bit these days from decision-making and let-downs and lovely camping and no more harry and no more west wing and work being mental and just not really feeling at all ready...
so i'm going to take a stroll into gloucester...and see what happens...i can promise you coffee will be involved...and hopefully the buying of a new book...and then blues music and sitting outside and angela's hen-do and honey beer and getting drunk and laughing alot and then coming home and probably resuming thinking again...
ugh...
its good though, isn't it..? its hard to get on in life if you don't know what kind of a mouse you are...

whoop

this is where i'm going..in about three hours...

haHA!

a weekend of wellies, wine, and other things fun..

hasta luego friends!

whoa nelly!

stop there a second and cop a load of this:
www.libertorre.com
our very own hannah houseman, people...
look at her go...

four simple rules..

sitting just now with drago, too late for a school night, but we had
worries to air...and i found myself remembering to seek a reminder
that the god of all peace wishes to sanctify us through and through..
and as on so many fretful occasions in the past, i turned my attention
to the precious book -the imitation of christ-
it never fails to bring counsel and fresh thought...tonight is no
exception...get your eyes and hearts round this, me hearties, and let's
set said together on that tranquil ocean of good sleep and sound
faith...

chapter 23
on four things that bring peace
resolve to do the will of others rather than your own
always choose to possess less rather than more
always take the lowest place, and regard yourself as less than others
desire and pray always that god's will may be perfectly fulfilled in you

amen x

waiting for spring...in summer..

so as you will by now know, my lovely hometown is on the front page of all the papers, flooded beyond belief and its proud inhabitants learning to wear wellies with dignity..
this week and next should be the annual camp of st peter's parish of gloucester, out in the woods and hills of the beautiful forest of dean...
i'm not sure i've ever waxed lyrical about this tradition of ours, so i thought that just to maybe aid its coming, i'd do so now..

when i was six we first attended. nick was seven, fiona one...
it had emerged from being a five-year old tradition of the august bank holiday weekend, several families from the church just getting away together for a few days, barbequeing and letting the kids roam free, to becoming a more long-term stay..it went from those few days to a week, and for some, went on to claim their whole summer holidays...
for us, it became a two-week camp at the end of our six weeks off school..the first two were always ireland, the second two were always cornwall, and the last....blaisdon...

at that age, there is nothing more splendid than being bundled into the car, sleeping bags, top trumps and plastic crockery at the ready, about to face whatever the elements threw at you, and to be with those friends who otherwise, we'd see at school or mass and say hi to, but they quickly became these sacred friendships, that were pure camping ties only..
we and the other kids would spend our days roaming around blaisdon forest, getting legs scraped and the occasional limb broken..we loved it. every morning, we'd have our cereal and juice, and then we'd be off! they wouldn't see us til sandwiches and hula hoops for lunch..there was an outdoor pool, bikes and skateboards, a treacherous rope swing right in the heart of the forest (no, you're right, i never, ever went on it...)

what we later learned was that during those long, sunny mornings, the parents would do their morning chores (sweep out the tent, sort the frozen blocks in the cool boxes, and generally potter about...
but then, they would then convene, not long before we'd come hurtling back for lunch, for their morning coffee....now, most of these people are pillars of the community, back home twelve miles away: teachers, nurses, housewives, accountants..but on camp, they're different...they're irish, in the main, and so it was the daily routine that the jamesons would get liberally snuck into these morning coffees, and if we got back a bit too late, we'd be getting our own lunch, if you know what i mean..

then more play, until dinner..the dads would always have their barbeques in a huddle, and would talk as men do over cooking, while the mothers (and usually daughters) would peel the spuds, wash the salad and dig the ketchup out of the cool box...and we'd eat together, sharing food, and rola cola, and wine...

but come the evening..!
now that was when the real fun would start....around seven, or as soon as the dinner was done and the tedious washing-up-over-a-makeshift-washing-up-stand over with, the fire would be lit, and the games begin..those usual campfire games of 'my granny likes...' and 'in my bag i packed..' and in the early nineties, always one of the boys (or more) would be too cool for skool, and sit with their gameboys until they realised everyone else as having more fun than they were!
and then my dad would arrive, usually after a small nap, guitar in hand, beard full and funny, and he'd sing..we'd all sing..there can't be too many groups of kids like us who know the words to so many irish songs and english folk songs and beatles and old american rock and roll and a bit of the blues and the hollies and simon and garfunkel songs...i think we may be a rare breed...and so it would go....
depending on your age, you would be sent off to bed in stages, torch in hand, the song 'goodnight fiona [or insert other name], goodnight fiona..' ringing in your ears, minding for guy ropes and hoping no bugs were in your bed waiting for you...usually some high jinks or other would follow, a stolen sleeping bag here, someone falling down the hill there....and we'd go to sleep with the sound of our parents singing and laughing and hunting for more wine in that famed cool box later in the night...
and in the morning, we'd wake with that horrible 'oh god i'm so hot get me out of here' feeling and have to get out of the tent asap, hungry for breakfast and for another day of fun.
even the rain didn't stop us. if it came, it invariably poured, and we'd have to stay inside...rummy and crazy eights and shithead were our card games of choice, monopoly would last all day..top trumps never failed to keep us out of trouble, at least for a couple of hours, and we were never, ever bored....

truth is, last year was pretty much the same...

i want my summer camping fun!! let the shire dry out please lord, if only for tradition not to be broken...and also, its not that much fun in the flood....

i say that, knowing that my parents are on their way out to the field RIGHT NOW to put the tent up..mum reckons its a balmy evening, so they're putting out their branch and seeing what happens..

hurrah!

muchas gracias..

for the many enquiries as to my family's health and wellbeing in my poor beleagured, flooded shire, i thank thee. they are well...and drying out..even considering still going camping...they figure, at least that way, they'll be intentionally without electricity and running water!xx

at that particular time..

is a lovely, lovely song by the wonderful alanis.
in the story, she talks about these very specific stages in life, mostly in the context of the relationship that the song is about, and the waymarks you set up along the way, like jeremiah, to show yourself the road by which you went...the things that mark out each phase, the outward symbols and the inner motives...and its amazing becuase you get the feeling that in terms of linear time, the stages she's on about are indistinct, and possibly very close together. or they could be years apart, you really don't know..
i realise i am prone to over-analysis, but there is something heartening about realising that at this particular time, things are good.
yes, i have cried this week, once, on monday, in london. it was short-lived and helpful. but that two-minute slot that threatened to wreck hattie's birthday lunch there for a moment (sorry hats..) is not really connected to now. it scary how different your days can be from each other when in theory there should be these seamless threads and ribbons of themes and feelings and priorities moving through day to next day...mais non, its not that easy. see, for me, so many things can shift my mood. and my mood, once altered, sadly can affect alot.
there are about half a dozen songs on my phone right now that if the shuffle lands on one of them, my mood is lifted and brightened. and about the same amount of songs that can nudge me into the slight beginnings of sadness...and then hundreds more that i love, but are just..there...
equally, the appearance of an email in my inbox with the potential of something new to come, possibly in the form of a new pursuit of employment....or maybe an email just saying that penny left me a coment on here...possibly just abebooks trying to plug me a signed copy of harry potter seven...or possibly some stickmen...all these things can appear via gmail in an instant and provoke a grin, a second of whimsy, a small fit of rage, a tirade of anti-american abuse, a one-click purchase of a book i've been waiting two years for...!
things happen to us so rapidly. with so little warning....i can communicate with people in a flash, and this affects me, because to communicate, in more or less any form, is the thing that gets me out of bed in the mornings...this i what i established during my mock interview with hawkes during our manchester-to-hertford-long-drive-down-the-m6 last weekend...
and it seemingly limitless, isn't it...?
when you think about jane and lizzie, and how jane's letter got lost, so lizzie didn't even know about lydia running off with wickham until days after it had happened...that's crazy, right?
my sister is ill in a tent somewhere in north wales today (hugses, if you're up for a rescue mission...?!) and two hundred miles in the other direction, my brother's house got flooded in today's ridiculous rain, my dad got stuck in the flooded forest of dean and my mum got locked out and had to get nick round to break a window..and i know it all!
nothing escapes me..
they're all ok, by the way..i think..
but seriously, how weird is that? that we can know about and respond to and worry for and be involved in things that are happening right now...in faraway places...
let alone my bizarrely-made new acquaintance over the other side of a bloody great ocean, who this week i have heard more of than i have of my mother.
and this affects us. it affects me, anyway...two consecutive days aren't the same when people are in your life, i guess when you choose a life of involvement and community. and nosey-ness! walking home tonight i said something to ben about my nosiness and he rephrased it in a delightful way that made my absurd level of curiosity about people sound like its my super-edifying gift unto the body!
i win
reader, thank you for reading. i think i would write this if no-one read it...but its nice to have you here, all the same...
night loves x
ps: liz, tim and sal can you please note that i have blogged three time today..although its 2.30 am but its still friday in my book...remember those days when everyone blogged so much that three in one day was a regular contest!?
ah, happy days..
wretched facebook..humph...

is it evil that my favourite blog to sit and read is this one...?

rubbish

this morning, john mayer tickets went on sale
but now..
and wretched ebay is having a chuffing field day.

how is he ever meant to fall in love with me if he only comes over here once a year and then there's no room at the inn for me and catelin?!

ebay: feel my death stare
london: equally

disinclined..

so you know how i'm a fan of the nightcleaning..?!
well, i just don't seem to have the same oomph for it right now..all this week i set tonight aside, entirely dedicated to an evening at home with nightcleaning and west wing.
instead, i went to the oyster bar with ben after work..we sat in the first sunny evening that manchester has seen for about two months, and talked books, economics, jobs, teaching (him), men (me), summer holidays, manchester:city with a chip on its shoulder, and many other things besides. we each had two pints of gloriously new and appley cider, on very empty stomachs, both felt a bit in the weeds and then went home..and once here, i just can't seem to summon up that verve to get my hoover and dusters out..or even do the washing up!
please don't come round..the place is a mess....
i think its cos i miss drago and i want her to come back to stay again and its some kind of protest
or maybe i just wish i was on holiday and so its some kind of protest about that
or maybe i'm just protesting against the living-alone scenario where its always my turn to do chores
i also miss russell and if he were here, he'd just take me out and then i wouldn't have to look at it!
or maybe i just got season six and have prioritised making sure donna is ok over mopping the kitchen floor
many theories...
that i am lazy wins...!!
donna is ok.
phew

triumphant return..

..of the 0853...
this morning, running late, i got off the bus in town, and that's where i embark upon the musical daily journey of the 0853..the three songs that walk me from bus to work....its the last seven minutes of my day that's mine until 1700....and so i revel in them, and mark that journey everyday by allowing the songs on my phone to shuffle themselves into a nice motivational medley to kick my ass all the way up the oldham road......to the shiny red door. and this morning, the second i went to get off the bus to start my walk, the shuffle shuffled itself onto 'made up lovesongs' by the guillemots which is currently my favourite song, and then! 'love sweet love' by morcheeba, and then!!! 'the view' by modest mouse...now you really can't ask for more than that from a thursday morning....
and lo!
there was more!
the sun was a-shining...
isn't it...

imagine..

ok so i was walking up oldham road this morning (the 08:53, by the way included faded/whole lotta love from the -live from mars- ben harper album and smile like you mean it by the killers..)..and what should i see before me but this, an enormous poster, bearing glad tidings indeed for anyone who loves blustery air, open seas, and adoring fans of wind energy being channelled through those magnificent, benevolent giants otherwise known as wind turbines...

only got one..

that is the name of a song by frou frou, which i like alot.
today on the bus back from london i was listening to it and thinking about what that means, you only have one life, its your life, make of it what you will...i wondered what it means for me, when lately i am faced with some fairly stark choices, or at least the beginnings of choices, about where i choose to prioritise the time that this one life affords me.
do i choose to marry for love? do i find whoever will have me and see how it goes? do i sell out to the man and go corporate, wearing suits, learning to walk in heels and laughing, certainly, alot less than i do during my current working days...? do i sit to the side of the forces of change, looking on, feeling glad, occasionally applauding, or do i pin up my action slacks and wade on in...? do i pay heed to the fears inside me that keep me awake some nights (less frequently now, you will be pleased to hear..), or do i lend my ear instead to those faithful psalmists who speak of god in the way that reminds me in who it is i put my hope? do i look around and feel envy at the loves, successes and joys of people around me, or do i accept the invitations to join in their loves, to add to and admire their successes and revel in their joys?
i guess none of the above are particularly hard questions, really..they have really quite obvious answers..but not necessarily the answers i can choose at 3am when still awake, or in the changing room at dp when nothing fits...not so easy when i feel frustrated at work, by the limitations of my own skills and experience, and by the lives i see before me everyday in whom i can only play such small a part...not half so easy as you'd think, when i at times feel i may still be waiting outside certain doors with a hope that should long since have died, but that silently persists, even when the door has been quietly but decidedly closed to me...
i do know however that i can trust in jesus to quicken my decision-making, as he has already over the years..
now though, i choose decaf tea, a hot bath and the joys of bed-time radio four...
night loves..x

friday i'm...at home..

when we were about seventeen, me and nick were walking home from the pub, half-cut and meandering. i looked and saw he was walking down the middle of the road..'nick' says i, 'why are you walking down the middle of the road?'. 'because i can...whenever anyone asks you that question, the answer is always 'because i can' repeat after me..'because i can, because i can..'etc etc....'
i love this apartment..
my friends are in a barn, chilly and playing games and catching up..
but as per the last-but-one post, i have again shied away from the gaggle..because i can.
god is here, as well as in the crowd, and i know that right now for sure..
a friend today seemed to intimate that god, once lost, however temporarily, should probably or could maybe be chased down with tears, and travaille...
i know that feeling. he's so far, just so horribly far sometimes. and so disinterested, unmoved. unapproachable
another friend owned to me today that god is nearer now to her than at any known recent time, that weird things are happening, that faith seems vivid and honest once more.
i really think its just when we think we have fathomed our place with him, near or far from him, as we perceive it, that's the second he decides he's going to prove just how wrong we are. not out of spite, or out of us needing to be put in our place (although clearly we do need that..) but just because he delights to. and because he can.
i have lately been stirred to simply ask for the new.
a week ago i sat in here, in my lounge with da costa, and talked of how stale things feel, not that things were awful, but that vibrancy was lacking..urgency, news, coloUr, discovery...all dried up...and so later, in my bed with jesus listening, i asked, 'something new please'..and a week later:
new friends. check.
new sleep levels. check.
new prospects and ideas for the future. check.
new ideas of things to write about. check.
and these are no small things, friends, this is the stuff we're always on the look out for, connections and pathways, challenges to the ordinary, assumed and aged.
ask for the new. its not that hard. 'something new please.'

someone asked me today to describe my family
and as i wrote, i found myself getting more and more choked..until right now, i have had to leave the descriptive narrative and sneak away..to here...
i am properly crying..!! how can i love my family so much!?! is this weird!?
thing is if i sit and think about them, and how lovely they are, and how much the five of us can live life laughing and drinking together, with this whole mutual adoration thing going on...it makes me cry a little bit!!
and i love that the small, young families around me here have so much of this to look forward to..to their twenty-something-year-old children having a small weep at their computer one day when they sit for a moment and ponder just how lovely it is to be loved like this...
can't wait to see it guys.

or so i thought..

i surprise myself lately

on an increasingly frequent basis, i find myself leaving crowds, or even small gaggles of friends, in favour of my apartment and the quiet.
who on earth knew?!
how could i, the most middle of all middle-children, turn out to not be the extreme extrovert but to in fact now crave time alone, my sofa, my pottering, my journalling, my west wing, my dinners cooked by me and for me and eaten just by me?
also how could i be revisiting the idea of working in governance or highly professional and competitive and powerful organisational structures again, when i love the small, individualised, non-suit-wearing aspects of my current work?

this is how:
my two huighest scoring results:
ISTJ 62%
ISFJ 63%

i'm not enfp at all!

i'd never done the test to come up with enfp, but i'd just always assumed i was an extrovert, that i was feeling and impulsive and emotional and perceptive, and therefore, an enfp

i'm not saying i'm converted to the life of an istj, but i do find it fascinating that i can have at least partially have been so wrong about myself!

when you consider that insecurity, in its more inherent and extreme forms, either drives people to absolute all-out attention-seeking, or it drives people into their inner cave where facing people isn't an option, i have to therefore conclude that having never given time to the idea of spending time alone, and always having been to frightened of silence, and all the damage it can allow in one's head, i ran toward people, toward their attention and time and affirmation. i still need and want those things, but since moving to my beautiful apartment, i have discovered that time spent alone is valuable, life-giving, and frankly quite lovely...

am scared i like it too much now! come get me out of my cave, people! (don't really, i like it..)

i still feel pretty convinced than i am way more of an n that i am an s...

i guess i shouldn't be so sure...

notes on psalms to go to sleep to

i learned along time ago that psalms are the most helpful thing in the night for restoring hope and crow-barring you open to the idea of believing in god in the middle of it all
after a wonderful, peaceful treat of an evening (i got taken to room for a late supper with two of my favourite people..its my favourite place..and i ate what i think is the best thing they make...you can't argue with a night like that, can you...?!) i arrived home, yawned my way through -today in parliament- my nightly radio four ritual, and then turned, as i have so many times before, to the 70's psalms. the last couple of weeks' bout of not sleeping has somehow not involved me remembering the 70's psalms' previous success at helping me to regain some sort of internal balance, and thereby enabling sleep...how i could have forgotten about them, i'm not sure...thanks to a helpful textual reminder or two throughout the evening, though, i found myself once more at this...
(its a different version than i would normally prefer, but in the heap of books that lives by my bed, the message was the only good book available..)

pslam 77..

1 I yell out to my God, I yell with all my might, I yell at the top of my lungs. He listens. 2-6 I found myself in trouble and went looking for my Lord; my life was an open wound that wouldn't heal. When friends said, "Everything will turn out all right," I didn't believe a word they said. I remember God—and shake my head. I bow my head—then wring my hands. I'm awake all night—not a wink of sleep; I can't even say what's bothering me. I go over the days one by one, I ponder the years gone by. I strum my lute all through the night, wondering how to get my life together. 7-10 Will the Lord walk off and leave us for good? Will he never smile again? Is his love worn threadbare? Has his salvation promise burned out? Has God forgotten his manners? Has he angrily stalked off and left us? "Just my luck," I said. "The High God goes out of business just the moment I need him." 11-12 Once again I'll go over what God has done, lay out on the table the ancient wonders; I'll ponder all the things you've accomplished, and give a long, loving look at your acts. 13-15 O God! Your way is holy! No god is great like God! You're the God who makes things happen; you showed everyone what you can do— You pulled your people out of the worst kind of trouble, rescued the children of Jacob and Joseph. 16-19 Ocean saw you in action, God, saw you and trembled with fear; Deep Ocean was scared to death. Clouds belched buckets of rain, Sky exploded with thunder, your arrows flashing this way and that. From Whirlwind came your thundering voice, Lightning exposed the world, Earth reeled and rocked. You strode right through Ocean, walked straight through roaring Ocean, but nobody saw you come or go. 20 Hidden in the hands of Moses and Aaron, You led your people like a flock of sheep.

the week that almost was..

So after a week of blissful, heavy, helpful and uninterrupted sleep, I crashed and burned last night, awake more or less til about five…
I really thought I was done
I feel sadder than before!
This blows

and..

once more into the deep sleep, my friends..
we have two nights, friends, two nights in a row...
god is good
amen?
xx

pea? what pea?

i slept like the princess when the pea had been taken away last night, friends..and i had a nap after work..its all getting back on track
thank the lord

night report..

it makes no sense to me that even though my bed looks like this:

i couldn't sleep again last night

i gave in at 3.30 and watched an episode of the west wing..did the trick, sent me off to politically-motivated sleep....in that episode , the president was getting therapy about his recent bout of insomnia..i went tot sleep safe int eh knowledge that i am not alone, that it happens to the best of us....i wish that guy from chicago hope would come and help me figure out why its happening to me as well though! jed might be able to afford $375 an hour, but alas...

confessions of an insomniac..

i'm not a full-time insomniac, but i think i could qualify anyway..i sleep less than i need to, more often than i would like...
last night i think i slept for about two hours...
it is a trait i fear i may have inherited from my mother. fiona, if reading this, will no doubt do that eye-rolling thing she does when i do or say something that highlights how similar i am to our mother, in the light of her having got away with being not very similar to her at all.....!!
in the sleep department, fiona is a gifted and talented young thing, she has anaptitude for sleep like no-one i know...
how does that work?! we have the same mother!
its a capacity for fretting that gets you into sleeplessness. she appears not to have been saddled with that one either!! but alas i have, and so i seek peace and pursue it.
when i first became friends with the lord, i sought peace like i was on a peace-seeking mission. i had guns and everything.
i'm joking of course
but even as a child i had a period of a few months when sleep eluded me, when i was about eight...
fun, hey?!
i'm not sure why i'm putting this on here, but its something about me that you may not know. and it sucks.

a well-earned break..

for you, dear readers, from my blogslack..
you may not actually want such a break, you may well have given up reading this page long ago in my absence, but here i am, to break the silence (again!)

for my beleaguered body, from nicotine..
at the start of this year i realised that once june arrived, it would bring with it a solemn mark of ten-years-since i started smoking. i have now stopped smoking. and yes i will believe you when you say you have heard it before. you have. but such as it is, i quit.

for jesus, from the bad press he too often gets from me on these pages
i love him. he did and spoke and made some wonderful things in me and for me this weekend. and has brought this last year's season of gloom to an abrupt and welcome end, as only he can. i remembered the merits of pushing in and persisting in asking, and all that's subsequent joy...i relived that feeling - long missing in my life- of knowing that jesus is right there. right there...amazing..

for me, from work, for a week
it started here and moved to swansea and thence to gloucester and via a wedding with barn-dancing, moved swiftly onto barcelona and a full, all-out strike from weight watchers for the duration of my stay there. i ate lovely food, took lots of photos and made some new friends. i finished reading the tipping point, and anyone who's made it that far will know that it is a truly fascinating book, with a full-hearted recommendation from me..i stayed at sara's, where the sagrada familia was literally outside my window..i drank wine with lunch, as a rule, and very very much enjoyed the biggest bonus of my new special needs contact lenses - getting to wear my enormous sunglasses!! i had a right lovely time, and came back not sorted but readier than ever to get myself together and move on from feeling rubbish...

so i then took a break from taking a break from church and all its associated events, and attended much of the rising tide prayer conference over the weekend. and there i took a break from being an asshole. and i let god tell me off, love me up and get me out...

he's good at that.x

holy mammon..

oh dear sweet jesus...
i went to the trafford centre today..yes, that's right. i, na of the lowly shire, went to the holy of holies of shoe-worhip and visa offerings and cosmetic atonement..
on a bank holiday weekend
in half-term
literally, it seemed the world and his wife and his neighbour and their screaming two-year-olds were there, and all trying to spend money and fill their bags and pockets with things to make them happy
consumerism rules, sally declared, as we trumphed in finding a parking space after half-an-hour of looking.., and we joined the throng about to begin the five-mile hike from the car-park which as far as we could tell was in chorlton, to the sacred shopping space..
it glows, its glows with sale signs and electronic tags on clothes and phone-tariff offers and all-you-can-eats and fountains befitting most palaces and chip-and-pins and tired, streched arms from the increasing bag-loads....
truth be told, i got what i needed, an outfit from shona's wedding next week, in the first ten minutes...but then, i had the necessary and more more enjoyable hunt for accessories....and sally needed shoes..and a hat...its all wedding-related, its all-important, its all-consumering..
and so we passed several hours, mooching, getting lost, taking wrong turns, hissing at couples who walk at a snail's pace in front of you, their hands in each-others' back pockets, and booed at screaming tearaways and (i, at least) glared at parents who not only have buggies but then one pushes the buggy while one takes the child out and "walks" with them holding their hand on what may only realistically be the second day that child has been walking...why, why?
its not even that you're in a rush, its sunday, what do you care? but, its more that when you can't rush, you want to..and also that - for me anyway - i hate to feel herded. i mean, its not as bad as ikea where your route is actually planned out and arrowed for you, but still, i just felt like such a statistic. like when you read about language degree students who all end up working in public service administration, or read about facebook in the observer and all the statistics on it, of which you are merely one...
i hate that feeling..
i love my outfit so much though!
its complicated, isn't it, trying to live without material hunger but also enjoying the process of piecing combinations of clothes together in a way that makes you look nice and feel good and, i mean, its your cousin's wedding, you can't turn up looking in a mess....
the whole thing blows my head slightly, that i hate to see people so avidly spending money and accumulating stuff, but at the same time, being in on it, and knowing that to whatever extent, you'll always be in on it...

triumphant..

look...
just look...!

the age of silence

there is a book, much-aforementioned on these pages, called -the history of love- which is about a book, called -the history of love- in the made up book that the book itself is about, there is a passage called the age of silence
you might say that has been the recent age in the life of my blog.
i apologise.
but on the same note, this morning i was listening as usual to radio four's -today- programme, and heard a piece about some scientists who have concluded that some kinds of apes do in fact communicate with a rudimentary sign language, hand gestures that seem to be well-used and universally understood among whatever that species is.
in the book, there is an age, in the history of love, like we would talk about the bronze age or stone age, called the age of silence, in which all communication is executed via hand gestures and body language.
since most of you haven't read the lovely book, i will tell you right now why it is so lovely.
read this:

"The first language humans had was gestures. There was nothing primitive about this language that flowed from people's hands, nothing we say now that could not be said in the endless array of movements possible with the fine bones of the fingers and wrists. The gestures were complex and subtle, involving a delicacy of motion that has since been lost completely.
During the Age of Silence, people communicated more, not less. Basic survival demanded that the hands were almost never still, and so it was only during sleep (and sometimes not even then) that people were not saying something or other. No distinction was made between the gestures of language and the gestures of life. The labor of building a house, say, or preparing a meal was no less an expression than making the sign for I love you or I feel serious. When a hand was used to shield one's face when frightened by a loud noise something was being said, and when fingers were used to pick up what someone had dropped something was being said; and even when the hands were at rest, that, too, was saying something. Naturally, there were misunderstandings. There were times when a finger might have been lifted to scratch a nose, and if casual eye contact was made with one's lover just then, the lover might accidentally take it to be the gesture, not at all dissimilar, for Now I realize I was wrong to love you. These mistakes were heartbreaking. And yet, because people knew how easily they could happen, because they didn't go around with the illusion that they understood perfectly the things other people said, they were used to interrupting each other to ask if they'd understood correctly. Sometimes these misunderstandings were even desirable, since they gave people a reason to say, Forgive me, I was only scratching my nose. Of course I know I've always been right to love you. Because of the frequency of these mistakes, over time the gesture for asking forgiveness evolved into the simplest form. Just to open your palm was to say: Forgive me."

ahhhh

read it, breathe it in...lovely, isn't it?!

now, that was complete gratuitously lazy blogging there on my part, not even my own words but just giving your someone else's so i can feel blog-satisfied. again, i apologise

in other news, i have new shoes..a new boss..new things to do at work..the wedding season is upon me, i have been drunk twice in the last week (i like to think those last two are not, as yet, connected!)
i have started reading -cloud atlas- for the imminent reconvening of book club, and i have booked my mini holiday to the swansea seaside for a few weeks' time...

its been all-go, you see....

i spent a delightful day at the skate park on sunday, feeling old and frumpy but in spite of all that i enjoyed it alot. it was slightly reminiscent of being on the stall with russell, peskykids everywhere and no-one knowing what's going on.

i have been being challenged, of late, to write more. and more intentionally, with more than just passing the time (my own or yours..) in mind, but with a mind to actually saying something, in the small vain hope that someone who doesn't already love me might want to read it. might even like it.

also, hands up who remembers the lawyer-debate, of this sort of time last year...?! that was fun, hey, how glad am i that it was just a journey and not a destination! well anyway a new wave of job scoping has swept over me, its a wave made up of dread, fear, and yet more dread, for the vision slash big idea is me running away from the idea of training to be a social worker.

nnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

i hear you cry
no wait, that was me...

thing is, i've never met a happy social worker....or a healthy one, rarely a nice one..they don't have time to be nice, or energy to be happy, or freedom to fix things or money to sort stuff out..the list goes on...

i really hope its just one of those stepping-stone things, you know..you think about something for a while, you get good and bad ideas about it, you figure out a bit more about what you actually want or are capable of, and a whole load more about what you don't want to do or be or become, and then you move on, better informed and with another thing crossed off the list...

that's what i'm hoping this is all about.

turns out though, the uk social work qualification is more or less -translated- the exact same as the spanish one...

that's the part that scares me, you see, because eventually after nine months of being back after barcelona, when god finally decided to tell me why i was back and what the deal was, part of the deal was that i wouldn't go back to spain until i had qualified in something that was actually needed in spain, unlike more tefl teachers who are now vastly underemployed and becoming beach bums instead...

so you know, i don't know...i don't have The Fear like i did with the lawyer thing, but i think that's mainly because i'm banking on it just being a bit of a lark for a few weeks til god let's me move on...

who's with me...!?!?!

well, its nice to be back...love you x x

daily meds..

once again, i bow to the greater wisdom of your friend and mine, mr nouwen...

i love this one...

 

 

Daily Meditation for April 27, 2007

written by Henri Nouwen

_........................................................._

Writing to Save the Day

Writing can be a true spiritual discipline. Writing can help

us to concentrate, to get in touch with the deeper stirrings

of our hearts, to clarify our minds, to process confusing emotions, to reflect on our experiences, to give artistic expression to what we are living, and to store significant events in our memories. Writing can also be good for others who might read what we write.

Quite often a difficult, painful, or frustrating day can be "redeemed" by writing about it. By writing we can claim what we have lived and thus integrate it more fully into our journeys. Then writing can become lifesaving for us and sometimes for others too.

daylight savings..

so last night was the first night for many sleep-filled years, that i have not slept a wink all night
for one reason and another, sleep eluded me

i got a phone call at eleven
i smoked til twelve
went to bed at half-past-twelve
got back up out of bed, and smoked at one
had some blackcurrant squash at about two
ate ice cream (skinny cow, don't fret, ww's) at four
took my effervescent vitamin c at 6
raided the wezzle's place for coffee at seven
left the house bright as a button at eight

so i watched the first dawn over the gardens of blair road, from my seat at the kitchen window...i saw two street lights flicker their good mornings and take their nocturnal rest....i saw pink and orange stripes across the sky over towards the peaks, and sleepy clouds over my head shuffling on by, all in a morning's work for the good lord...
it was amazing...

and so a troubled and tedious night of temporary insomnia, allowed me the great fortune of welcoming a new day...

not just for the blair road gardens, or for us manchester residents or for the hills to the east...but for me, too

last night, i asked jesus to re-route my wellspring, (a la previous post) and amid a reunion of sorts, where i re-called my wellspring from a certain direction and asked to be rooted only in jesus again, no more of this post-valentine mini-drama, adios to hanging around waiting, when the call to wait seems now, overnight to have ended...i found myself this morning, with a pretty, sweet set of timely top-fives on my hands....

enjoy (and feel free to add any you deem essential that i have omitted, i know there are many..)

top-five songs for letting go, shipping out, and moving on...

1 = pass in time - beth orton
2 = time and time again - counting crows
3 = walk away - ben harper
4 = rescue blues - ryan adams
5 = let it die - feist

this evening, i shall mostly be...sleeping...

mostly listening..

once more, i choose to invoke the power of the high fidelity script, to tell you what i have been mainly doing:

Rob: The making of a great compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do and takes ages longer than it might seem. You gotta kick off with a killer, to grab attention. Then you got to take it up a notch, but you don't wanna blow your wad, so then you got to cool it off a notch. There are a lot of rules.

me: a lot of rules doesn't even begin to cover it. its a complex business, and yet
its also highly enjoyable. its a passtime in itself. and there was i saying no-one has passtimes any more....i couldn't do this on a regular basis though, i'd go nuts

so anyway, you may or may not know that a certain friend of mine, who may or may not be connected to the valentine's tale, is currently laid up in hospital with a stupid amount of broken bones

prior to his leap into the abyss (i'm working on the theory that there is no connection..) we had recently become email buddies. my other feelings for him, such as they are, (ie, fictional, mainly..) remain, but we had been becoming friends, in a blizzard of emails over the course of a work-less, fun-filled week.

and now he lies, motionless, waiting for himself to mend

and so here is the mix-tape to end all mix-tapes
the one where you want him to learn to new music
the one where you want him to see how you've paid attention to his already-stated musical preferences, and taken them somewhere
the one where you want him to be surprised by that feeling of hating a song at the start, but loving it by the end
the one where you want him to suddenly wish he had a laptop with him so he could jolly well get on th'amazon and buy all the associated albums
the one where you're mildly flirting..through someone else's lyrics..
the one where you don't want to inadvertently declare some sort of undying love through someone else's lyrics..

so many potential pitfalls!
fun though xxx