What do you do when you want to do nothing?

It's is *such* a drag coming back to work. Having some time off is always a dangerous thing, and even though I've not been away on a hot sunny island, I've still spent some fun time at home with family and friends, really appreciating the town I live in (T Wells it lovely). Coming back to work in London is painful. Reading a novel set in the south of France while commuting to said painful work was probably not the best choice. All I want to do is potter in a garden and drink local wine and eat local cheese. Grrr.

Add to that the fact that my Esteemed Flatmate has quit work for three months to do all the things she wants to do but never has time for, viz:
1) write (book / radio play / short stories)
2) walk long distance paths around the UK
3) go on a National Trust working holiday
4) Play Zelda on Nintendo DS.
Well, you can see why coming in to work may be quite difficult at the moment!

Apart from that, all is good. Christmas was lovely, my man wants me to move in with him in the summer, my nephew has stopped screaming blue murder and is actually becoming quite cute, the boiler hasn't broken for a while (touch wood), the days are getting longer, I've caught up with quite a few friends recently, and Amazon has just sent me another parcel.

On the Men's Pants front, I am still searching. I was in Hoopers with my man just after xmas and caught sight of some Calvin Klein pants boxes, and I could not stifle a giggle. I'm sorry. They just look so ridiculous, all posing and rippling and thrusting. I prefer men in natural macho poses ie. throwing hay bales about or chopping logs. You know, perhaps if they changed the theme of pants pictures and did them in a natural setting like most ladies' clothing is, it might improve things. So, man in bathroom. Man washing up. (In pants? It's a stretch, but possible.) Man getting dressed (as long as socks go on later). Man drinking coffee and looking pensively/sternly out of the window. Man offering girlfriend flowers. Or maybe just lots of pants pegged out on the washing line. Look, no bulge!!

Relief

I'm reading a book at the moment which is making me want to cry with relief. Books are magical - some can be fusty and dusty and you never quite connect, some are like those magic books in Dungeons and Dragons which you open and beams of light shine forth, and ideas and knowledge rain down on you.

This book is called What do I do when I want to do Everything? and it talks about people who really can't just settle down to do one thing, but are enthralled about learning and doing everything. The author Barbara Sher calls these people Scanners, and the more I read the more I think That's me! And it's such a relief to know that I'm not just lazy and unable to finish things, or unable to find a career that I want to do until I retire because I lack passion. It's just because I want to learn about everything, and once I've learnt one thing to a reasonable level, or planned and implemented a project, then that's enough for me, and I want something new to do.

How many people do you know that's always starting something new? That flits between jobs and never settles? That has dozens of unfinished projects littering the house? And how many of these people feel guilty about that? I know I used to. But in the past couple of years I've actually felt good about that, it makes me feel accomplished and rounded as a person that I shoot, I knit, I poledance, and I've set up a small business. OK, I do none of these things to an exemplary level, but I do them all pretty well. I love to learn, I love to facilitate, I love to know that nothing is impossible. And when I'm doing these things I am the happiest person I know.

What do you guys think?

Football

I had to go to the Arsenal vs Man U match with work. Anyone who knows me also knows I can't stand football. I'd rather stick forks in my hand than watch a game. So going to the temple of men who run around, swear, and fall over at the slightest tap - well, frankly, you can keep it.

So the actual match was OK. The food was excellent. And here are three amusing things from the day:

1. The crowd. As someone goes in for a strike they all take a gasp, and stand up. As the player misses, they sigh and groan and sit down. Forty thousand people doing the same thing made it seem like a giant crowd creature breathing in and breathing out.

2. Sagna's ridiculous haircut. It looks like a rooster and flicks into his face when he takes a header.

3. Considering how much Wayne Rooney does actually look like Shrek. (Although even I could admit he is a little bit of a football wizard.)

But the most exciting thing was getting Shayne Ritchie's autograph and getting called darlin' twice by him in one sentence. *:)

Glorious

Something startling happened last night. I was at the station, late, hungry, and *I did not go and buy a Burger King*. I went into M&S and got a healthy looking sandwich. What??? Has turning 30 finally caught up with me? It was most unnerving. I also bought a bag of salad because we needed it for home and *I nearly opened that too*. Huh?


Anyway, on less inane matters, the burlesque workshop nobly led by Miss Glory Pearl last weekend went very well. I think the girls were a little apprehensive, as only Clare and I had ever done any stripping before (and that was only a couple of 15mins sessions at the end of our pole classes in the spring), so they were rather quiet to start with. But a few rehearsals of removing undergarments and ending up in nipple tassles and bowler hats soon wore down the embarrassment and we all started to get into things. We learnt the most delicious way to remove long evening gloves (to be repeated in the bedroom only!) and also how to twirl said tassels. There is nothing more ridiculous than four girls standing in a row in stockings and suspenders, watching their bouncing boobs with grins of glee.


We were discussing about stripping, pole dancing, lap dancing, and other darker sides of using one's femininity after the class, while sipping glasses of pink champagne. One of the ladies said that a few years ago she wouldn't have touched a class like we'd just done with a bargepole as she was a subscriber to the 'stripping takes advantage of women' school of thought. I'm not sure exactly what her thoughts are now, but it was something along the lines of exploring her feminine side more, and feeling more liberated to be herself. And showing off the amazing corset she got in the states. *;) I find stripping, particularly burlesque stripping, quite empowering (men go all wobbly when you tell them about it), as well as being confidence boosting - you have to appreciate your body to get it out in public, even a little bit, and there was not a murmer of 'oo, your boobs are bigger than mine!' or anything of the sort on the day, but just mutual appreciation. Confidence is by far the sexiest thing a woman can wear.


Well, confidence, and perhaps this corset.

*corset from www.fairygothmother.co.uk

Big Stix

Quote du jour, discussing new size 50 Speed Stix:

I want knitting needles that double as vibrators. And light up. ... Now those, I'd buy.

The Knitting Curmudgeon pulls no punches. Quite right. There's enough tat coming out in the knitting world for unsuspecting newbies. Someone needs to say something!

Aragon Yarns had a stand at the Knitting and Stitching Show at Alexandra Palace and it went really well. We had loads of interest and hopefully it will keep snowballing. Also several requests from wholesalers to stock it! Yay!

Just off to tango now. We're trying a new place out just off St Martin's Lane. Glide glide, flick flick. Should be fun!

Men's pants - update

Clare has found a link to the following website which sells interesting men's pants:

www.asdrumark.co.uk

Please, gentle reader, be sitting down and not too close to the screen when you view. (My first reaction was a loud Argh!! followed by Eww!!)

Good luck!

And many thanks to B T Bear for linking.

Men's Pants

What can be done about men's pants? I find them indescribably dull. The best you're going to get are jersey shorts with stuff written around the waistband. Ladies, in comparison, have a chocolate box of choice: lace, silk, satin, velvet, ribbons, ruffles, pin tucks and polka-dots, embroidery, sequins and a rainbow of colours. And that's just the knickers - what about all the bras (push-up, plunge, half cup) and bewildering arrays of corsetry?

Seriously though, what can you do with men's pants to make them more fun and sexy without also making them look camp and/or Village People bondage? Any sort of embellishment bar a brand label (scratchy)? Leather, rivets? No. Prints? I think not - may well cause sniggers when trousers are removed. (Any men out there with cartoon characters on their boxers, please ceremonially burn them now.) Obviously all the frills and furbelows listed above are out. So what, what, what?

Another problem with pants is that the area of the body they cover, unlike the female form, is not the most aesthetically pleasing. Men's pecs and shoulders - Mmm. Men's bottoms, often hairy and pale. What can be done to enhance?

Perhaps we can borrow from ladies' corsets and look at some interesting tailoring, with some seamage which follows the contours to refine, slim and enperken. Or enperten, depending on the view. *:)

What about the tease, a vital part of ladies' ware? Is there a way of getting that 'look but don't touch' into men's grundies? Perhaps the tease won't work with men, they're not usually known for being coy. We should be looking for something more butch - 'come and get it, laydees' pants.

Another big problem with all this is men themselves. They like to wear their pants for comfort. Not for them enduring being poked by underwires, scratched by lace or flossed all day by a thong. Would sexy pants with enperkening tailoring actually get worn? Something is telling me not.

Please, leave comments and suggestions. I lay down the challenge. There must be something out there for our poor men!

Smoke, fire and roses

We have had skate for supper. To get rid of the fish smell Clare suggests burning some incense. Our fire alarm is set to Sensitive And Then Some. I foresee some Bells and people running up and down the stairwell again...

We have closed the door to the hall and opened the windows. It looks like a smoky bordello in here. Clare drifts through the haze on the other side of the room. We need some high heels and feather boas. Fancy a good time, sir?*;)

So anyway, I have reached a career impasse. I need a change. IT is just dull and stressful, which is not a good combination. So, I could:

1. Look at getting into IT sales. This will use my IT experience but also mean that I could earn some proper money and not have to work in the same office Every Day. Argh.
2. Look at resurrecting my psychology degree. I'm quite interested in training as a life coach at the moment.
3. Find a job that pays the bills in T Wells and devote the time saved from commuting to doing something less boring instead. Like sleeping in and being home in time for Neighbours.
4. Go on the dole.

I should also be devoting a lot more time and energy to the wool business, as that's currently languishing for wont of effort. We have a couple of shows coming up and it's going to be a last minute scramble as usual. I have made the following resolutions in the past week:

1. Stop any unnecessary spending
2. Carry a notebook at all times to write things in like Wool - To Dos and ideas and 3BTs.

I can't believe that I still have an overdraft. I mean, I'm 30 years old, have a reasonable job, don't go out boozing every night, nor do I have a Jimmy Choo habit, and yet there it still is, nasty minus numbers. I have about three days every month when it's in the black, then the mortgage goes out, the few hundred goes out to my monthly pocket money allowance, the cheque goes out to the parents as repayment for the house deposit, and suddenly it's all well back in the red. Well, enough. Perhaps it's my stars - apparantly Saturn is somewhere to do with responsibilities at the moment. Huh. Perhaps I am just growing up finally. I'll be telling everyone to make do and mend soon, and darning socks.

On a brighter note, my man met me at the station on Friday armed with flowers. Well, actually, he had to chase me up the hill because when I get off the train I'm on a mission to get home, man. But I am hugely smug that I have such a wonderful man (and flowers). They do exist! (Wonderful men. We knew flowers exist.) There is still a little part of me that's questioning if it will all last, he's surely going to let on that in fact he spends 5 nights a week in the pub scratching his arse and farting like the rest of them, but we are ignoring that evil little pipsqueak voice at the moment. Get back in your box.

Molly, Rory and Agnes

We went back to the farm on Friday for Pete's birthday, and we got to see the new sheepdog puppy. Originally christened Spot, we have all decided that's waaay to boring, so currently she's called Molly.

Molly and Sam the kitten have a love/hate relationship.

I failed to get a shot of the well-aimed paw swipe from Sam.

Cute one of Sam hiding in the roses.

Molly terrorising the inmates. Poor doggies.

And little sleeping Rory! He was a little angel (misleading), he was passed around about nine people and apart from a little grizzle about being moved he slept and looked angelic for everyone. I expect that meant he was up half the night for his poor parents. It's now the official time he was supposed to be born, but he's actually just over a month old.

Clare cuddling Rory:

And, on Sunday night, Clare went off to her adventures looking like Agnes from Labyrinth:

Can you spot the difference? Only by lack of broadswords I think.

Pride 07

I know, this was two weeks ago, but you just have to see this new police car:






Yes, that is indeed a Lotus. Anyone want to sign up for The Force suddenly?

I followed these dudes into the park, and was v impressed by the chap's a) height, b) corset and c) inch long purple feather false eyelashes. They most kindly let me take their pic:


Paul V and pal:



Me with my face painted! Finally! No one ever lets me get my face painted. Paul didn't care. Also note the hippy balloons the police were giving out. They were also giving out pink whistles with Kent-Gay-Police.co.uk logos on them.

I did like Paul's T shirt with Maggie Thatcher in stockings and suspenders.

Anyway, it was v hot, and as predicted there were lots of burnt gay bottoms by the end of the day. (Flashing flesh is not an issue at these events.) But a gay old time was had by all and it was extremely entertaining, good fun, and very friendly. Recommended for anyone if you're down in Brighton at the right time of year. Just be careful which shops you stray into... We were just window shopping and ended up in the burley man's BDSM rubber implement shop. Mon dieu. I don't even want to know what they do with some of that stuff. It looks distinctly painful.

Garden delights

Look how well our tubs are doing! Two tubs, two bean plants, two tomato plants, one squash plant, and a satellite dish.

These are runner beans Red Rum:


This is a butternut squash in embryonic stages (it's only just over an inch long):




This is cherry tomato Sungold which only goes orange, not red, and is sweet and tasty (and more beans and the satellite dish):

I think we're helped because the plants are on a balcony so we don't get the slugs, and we get more sun. And of course the tubs are full of well rotted farmyard manure. Arhhhhh.

Lists and legumes

Just a question before we start - does anyone else get that thing when you're dozing and having this very very long and involved Think, and thinking some really good thoughts, and then you are roused from the doze and cannot remember a single thing you have thunk? Although it's all just a gnat's whisker away from your memory? What's with that?

Anyway, our bean vines and our tomato plant are looking amazing. We've had seven beans off the bean vine (one seven different days), and it's draping very prettily over the satelite dish at the moment. However there are suddenly lots of baby beans on it so perhaps after the weekend we might actually get a full serving from it! How exciting! There are also loads of clusters of tomatoes. They are the little cherry tomatoes Sungold. We will have to make chutney or something at this rate.

It all goes to prove the wonders of a lot of good sheepshit. *:)

So the bloke's best buddy got me pissed the other weekend and we had a long and involved conversation about what we look for in a partner. (The bloke was driving and therefore sober, and I expect was getting rather concerned about what I might say, at drunken volume, in a pub full of his mates.) Best Buddy got me to confess that not so long ago I wrote a list of all the things that I wanted from a man, and worse, got me to promise to send it to him. I think it was more an effort on my part to make him think more about what he wanted from a girl, other than she's breathing and not swearing every other word. Such high standards. Whereas I had a list of 30 criteria. He was intrigued.

So, the next day, with a hangover, the list was duly sent. Best Buddy sent back an email starting OH MY GOD!! I hope all girls don't think like that or I'm ****ed! Hee hee. Bloke, at this point, was also dying of curiosity, wanting to know how he measured up. But also perhaps a little cross about it. He's right though, it can be viewed a bit nastily to have a tick-list for a future potential partner.

Best Buddy (with permission - well done) sent the list on. Bloke read it. Bloke's mum read it, and raised an eyebrow. (Yikes!!) Bloke, thank Christ, was not cross. Bloke gets loads of extra points.

He already scored 28/30 anyway. *:)

Rockin'!

Clare at 3BT has tagged me with this:

Thank you Clare! I'd tag her back but I can't. So I'm going to nominate my mum at Pauline's Garden, and hope she has time to post the button before the end of the summer.

Babies

I am an auntie!

Rory Peter Skinner was born a month early by emergency caesarian section yesterday morning, 8 July. All doing well now. Peter and Claire have had so many problems with the pregnancy, it's lovely to see them now with their little boy, shattered but extremely happy.

It's also very strange seeing my little brother being a daddy!

I went to visit last night and Pete grabbed my hand and pulled me over to see Rory, turned to me and said, 'Look! Isn't he so cool?!' Aw!

It was a pretty frenetic weekend all round. Elliot and Jo came down from Nottingham with their new little long-haired Jack Russell puppy Archie (who is super cute), we went to visit another uni friend Titch and his 8m old baby Alex, then all was prep work for the Tour de France which came through the village on Sunday. Sissinghurst put on a big fete and we were selling cherries, strawberries and cream, and had a wool stand. The sun shone and there were thousands of people there. The baby news was announced over the tannoy to the village. The cyclists and convoy of beeping floats and gendarmarie whizzed through at top speed. People queued for ages for burgers. Small children got their faces painted. Large adults threatened to abduct Archie. Finally the roads were reopened and we managed to escape: home for tea, and then to the hospital to see the new arrival.

Guess what? I'm knitting baby clothes already. *:)

Nerd, Geek or Dork

Found this test through someone else's knitting site!

My Score: Pure Nerd

52 % Nerd, 8% Geek, 8% Dork

For The Record:
A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.
A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.
A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.

You scored better than half in Nerd, earning you the title of: Pure Nerd.

The times, they are a-changing. It used to be that being exceptionally smart led to being unpopular, which would ultimately lead to picking up all of the traits and tendences associated with the "dork." No-longer. Being smart isn't as socially crippling as it once was, and even more so as you get older: eventually being a Pure Nerd will likely be replaced with the following label: Purely Successful.


Yay, I am a nerd! I wonder how I would have scored if I could speak Klingon or went to sci fi conventions or owned comics or had the whole set of Buffy DVDs?

How did you score?

Mon dieu - Garden Delights

I just went to visit our Postie Barry, and on the inside front cover of his Amateur Gardener is the following ad:

'Create an interesting talking point'? You bet they will! What's with the crazy starey eyes? And the bandana? And the concept as a whole? Wobbly merecats??

Barry has ordered some to go with his Bill and Ben pot people and solar powered glowing ladybird and frog. I am hoping that he is being postmodern and ironic, but fear it is not the case...

Mystique and glamour

I'm really getting into Glamourpuss' no holds barred blog, but she's really hit a chord with her latest entry. Here is a little extract:



The truth is, there is nothing mundane about being a woman. And that’s all that men need to know about us. Glamour is everything, and everything should be glamour. Men aren’t all that good at the details, they prefer the overall impression; when they get on the carousel, they want the ride of their life, and in truth, I think most women want that, too. So, shut yourself in the bathroom and lock the door when you pull out the stray hair on your chin. Never pee in front of him unless urolagnia is your bag. And apart from touch-ups, keep the maquillage application to yourself. Never let a man think he possesses you, for while we love the things that have been ours for years, they rarely excite us, and most of the time, we barely see them, taking them for granted instead. These things, these everyday things are mundane, but the rare jewel that may slip from one’s grasp at any moment is a treasure to be jealously, zealously guarded. Such diamonds can be a man’s best friend, as well as his lover, and they are always, always valued.



This is exactly, precisely, why I became single the last time around. I'd become totally taken for granted. So now I'm asking myself, was it, to any extent, my own fault? Apart from letting him pee with the door open, and getting him to pull out my granny whiskers (so charming, non, to be so easy with each other?), I know that I almost totally gave up doing all the things that make me Me, make me happy, to be there for him. Instead, because I loved him, I made a big effort and sacrifices to take an interest in his world, which ended up with me being always available. And like Glamourpuss says, things that are always there become mundane. No wonder in the end I felt totally unappreciated.

I love the way you learn from each relationship and develop yourself as a person, honing your relationship skills, and finding out who the real you is - what makes you happy, and what you are not willing to put up with. But you need the time out in between to reflect and understand. It must be a very difficult process to do when you're in a relationship. It's taken me a year to get back to being the person I enjoy being. I've learnt to guard my individuality and independence. I'm more confident, happier, I've lost weight without thinking about it, and I'm rediscovering my inner minx. In being true to myself, I'm discovering that there is nothing mundane about being me.

Test drive!

This was us today! Sands drove too but the pics are sun bleached.

Nice motor, non?

Raks posing

Me posing. On my drive the heavens opened. Joys.

Raks again.


That's all I have to say for now, I'm too tired.

Grumpy Old Woman

I love Clare's 3BT very much, but sometimes you just have to grump, so here goes. This will be an anti-3BT, if you like.

1. Bad grammar. Your and you're are not interchangeable, neither are there, their and they're.

2. Commuting is dull. I'd been pepping it up for the past few months by travelling illegally - my season ticket was London to Staplehurst, when it should have been London to T Wells. (This is only a different route for the last 10mins of the journey, and I really couldn'd be bothered to change it. The price was the same for both.) But it expired and my new ticket is for the right route. My flicker of excitement as I approach the station is rapidly dulled these days by the realisation that I don't have to be scared of the conductor any more. Rats.

3. Bloody numpties. Why am I surrounded by them??

Special bonus addition:

4. Cover versions of pop songs. About half of the music they play in the gym is a cover of stuff I remember from when I was at school. Write something new, you bubblegum pop mannequins!!

Long weekend in Scotland

Ivan and Helen organised an amazing weekend in Gargunnock in Scotland. It's near Stirling, and the house belongs to the Landmark Trust. I recommend it for large houseparties, possibly with an Agatha Christie theme. BYOButler!

On Saturday we walked up nearby Ben Ledi (at 800m or so). A good way to work up an appetite! This is us having lunch and contemplating the climb.

Well, some of us contemplating the climb, others just discovering the Best Skimming Stones In The World Ever.

Nearly at the top...

There were sixteen of us and we had a great black tie dinner on the Saturday night. Check out those oryx heads on the walls- there were four of them, and in a normal house you'd have to negotiate them through the door and then share the room with this massive stuffed head with scary beady eyes. In that dining room you hardly noticed them!


Other great things about the weekend:

The weather was amazing

The drawing room with a grand piano which Chopin may have played (along with all the other grand pianos in that part of Scotland, in the space of two week's holiday or something.)

The smoking room and the library

Having an open fire and an old boy in the gatehouse who just waved us at the log pile and told us to help ourselves

The row of bells in the servants quarters, and the bell pulls in all the big rooms

Ria and Jake cooked up this amazing array of curries on Sunday afternoon for an inpromtu feast in the evening

Visiting Doune Castle which is just down the road, which is where they filmed most of the castle scenes from Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Chatting to lots of new people about what they do. Mainly they have PhDs in molecular biology, and play a mean Dirty Word Scrabble

Elliot let me drive his Lotus Elise. *:)

Thanks Ivan and Helen for a great weekend!