Life - And So It Goes

Today I just felt the need to blog. I have nothing to say other than 2014 is flying by and I am not doing anything other than trying to hold on and make the most of it.

I have my health, my loved ones and my imagination. I am happy but know I could be happier and settling where I know I could force myself to do better.

But I am generally at ease with a smile and that is a lot better than most.

So happy Sunday. I've missed you, I hope you have missed me too. :) xx

Musings - Not so dainty after all...

Because Katharine has dainty features and is still lacking in the chubby arms and legs department I look at her and wonder if she is growing. I know she is but I think because I see her all the time her weight is creeping on unnoticed. Yesterday I found a photo which I took when she was only a couple of weeks old, it made me go ahhhhhhhhhhhh. Then I thought, hey, lets get a little perspective... so I took another photo to see the size difference...

Photo from April...

Photo from July.

Yup... my little girl isn't so little after all. :) xx

Musings - Conforming...

I have finally conformed to trend and have signed up for an iPhone 4. I resisted for a long time but with my mobile contract coming up for renewal I thought, hey why not. Now it is my mission to disguise it within the confines of either an ugly or a ridiculous looking case. I will post pictures when I find one suitably funny looking.

PS. Once up and running I aim to be collecting a lot more photos, snippets and information on this new purchase so watch this space for even more nonsense.

:) xx

Musings - Odd Socks

My phone is a touch screen, a lovely Samsung, and as I know my own limitations when it comes to keeping my mobile phones scratch free, as well as the dangerous internal state of my handbag, I like to keep it wrapped nicely in an Ipod sock.

'Why not just get a normal phone case?' I hear you ask. Well, because my socks come in a variety of colours, are machine washable and above all Rohan loves to run off with them so there is entertainment value too.

I am currently in the process of changing my colour. I started with pink and moved on to blue so it is decision time on what I am going to pick next.

What do you think? Orange ?

Musings - Hard Times

While this is not an actual video the song is so amazing I just wanted to share it.

Musings - IMDb (The Internet Movie Database)

Sadly, hopeless rather than boohoo, I am one of those people who loves nothing more than Trivia.

I soak it up, I am a foundation of useless factoids and lists; I would be your 'phone a friend', with my chosen subjects being... Film, TV & Literature.

I can tell you who starred in what, with whom, where and when. Name me an actor and I will most likely be able to list you their movie accomplishments, as well as twenty other useless personal facts that will bore the non-trivia lover to death.

And when I don't know something... I am also a hapless researcher; which brings me to the point and title of this blog post... IMDb - The Internet Movie Database. Here is a website that is an endless, remarkable and tireless bible of all things entertainment. What I don't know I find on here and most of what I do know I found on these pages too. It's my oracle. I recommend it whole heartily for your trivia needs.

Check it out... improve your chances at the pub quiz. :)

Musings - Here I come, ready or not...

When we got married we spent an age deciding on what songs to have for the walking up and down the aisle, the signing of the register and then for our first dance. For me the most important was my initial walk down the aisle; as we had a civil ceremony we were limited to the songs / tunes we could use.

So we listened to so many suggestions, so many downloads and then we came across this...


Gaelic Morn

We chopped a little of the beginning and a little from the end but from around the 14 second mark the music started with me, my father and my bridesmaids hidden behind the curtain. Then at the 35 second mark they opened the curtain and revealed us... then I walked down the aisle to meet Kieran as he stood dressed in his Irish national tartan kilt. He looked amazing and the music could not have been more fitting.

Have a listen... :)

Musings - What's 'Hat All About...

I once had this friend, actually he was more of an acquaintance, thinking about it I only met him twice so in reality we emailed for a couple of months before he disappeared and I realised I didn’t miss him…

But, anyway, I once briefly knew a guy who collected hats.

I think he considered himself a cross between Frank Sinatra and Julian Casablancas which was eyebrow raising in a ‘you poor sap’ way rather than a ‘how hip are you’ way. Don’t get me wrong; he pulled it off in a skinny jeaned, mad haired fashion but I always felt that beneath the spray on pants and the maroon tie too much effort was being spent to look effortless.

But back to the hats.

He wouldn’t wear them. He bought them, loved them but would never adorn them. He considered it PEACOCKING.

The guy with the leave-nothing-to-the-imagination jeans, extremely pointy shoes, ridiculous ties, and hate me writing style thought that it would take the addition of a hat to be a human peacock? Fool right?

Other than wit, the love of ridiculous questions and writing; the only other thing we had in common was collecting hats.

But I like to wear mine.

Even if I look a little odd or a little quirky I still slap them on my noggin and dare to leave the house. My friends, family, husband… all despair. Even looking at myself in my hats I have to appreciate they make me strangely eccentric.

But there is something about a hat that gives me a little sass and I like it.

I don’t really have a style, I won’t be auditioning for The Strokes anytime soon and I am certainly not the type you would even consider to be a peacocker. (Not a word, I know, but it forms nicely in the mouth, ha ha).

But when I am gone and people try to remember who I was, if at least one person can smile, reminisce and say ‘Do you remember that awful purple hat?’, then I will look down (mostly likely up) and be happy.

So here are a couple of my hats, be bemused…

Musings (okay and Photo) - Howarth 1940s Weekend (15th June 2010)

This weekend I went to the annual 1940s Weekend which takes place in Haworth, the home of the Brontes, a town only 12 miles from my own. This is a celebration that takes place encouraging people to dress in costume, bring along their memorabilia, sing, dance and generally have an excellent time.

Here are just a couple of photographs that I took on the Saturday.

An excellent sign - getting into the spirit of things.

The Main Street (left) showing the amount of people joining in and two Ladies in Costume (right)

An 'American' soldier and his 1940s(ish) attired pooch and 'Guarding the Town'

An excellent example of how much fun we had on the day.

The weekend also included Dance', Winston Churchill's infamous speech, ration packs, The Andrews Sisters and a Hurricane Fly Over. It is humbling how much everyone joins in and recognises the efforts made by our troops both then and now.

There was even a real wedding complete with 1940s costumes and a reception consisting only of rations and love.

I found out on Monday that it is possible to rent costumes on the day from the Bronte Parsonage, where you can also get your hair and make up done to look the part.

Next year... next year I am going to jump right into the mix and finally have the courage to pull on my uniform. :)

Musing - Beating the Recession

We are in a recession and it’s not just the UK, the whole world is feeling that straits are dire.

Companies both local and far are being forced to advertise and cold call hundreds in the hope of getting just one job, sale or contract.

The amount of calls, leaflets and random knocks on the door to my own house have increased and while I know they have no other option, and I feel their plight, I still feel that little bit irritated. I am in recession too… I don’t have the spare funds to be funding others.

And of course I then feel guilty for feeling irritated and then I feel confused at it all.

Recession it would seem hits the sense of humour as well as the wallet.

Then this week I received a leaflet, a business card of such stuck under my car windscreen wiper, that made me chuckle.

I never considered that a clairvoyant might need a little help to reel in the clients; especially not one that is so ‘world renowned’. I suppose I thought his spiritual guides would be feeding him racing tips or at the very least he would have anticipated the market crash and kept his money in his shoe box (the one passed down from generation to generation) under his bed.

When you read his card you can see how multi-talented he is, how many problems he can solve but strangely… not his own.

Hmm.

As impressed as I am by his card, I don’t think I will be ringing but then I guess he will already know that.

Musings - Exam

Tonight I have an exam for my Business Administration Technical Certificate... wish me luck!  :)

Musings - Third-Of-My-Life Crisis

Some day soon something in my life is going to click and I am going to have to take a step back and think… wow.

At the moment I think Blah. At the moment I am bemused with a portion of cynical and a side of whimsy.

You see I am turning thirty in September. Thirty!

And apart from the odd stint here and there I can’t really say that I have experienced life. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have any burning need to hoist on a backpack and head to foreign climates to get mugged so I can write about it; I just... you know… wish I had done more.

I sound like I am giving up, like I am going to blow out my candles and take to my bed to wait it out. I’m not. I just wish I had thought ahead. Saved more, seen more, sexed more.

Now I sound like I am going to cash in my meagre ISA, buy a ticket and get laid somewhere. I’m not. I just… you know… wish.

Getting old seems to have got me procrastinating and dangerously on top of all this thinking I have started thinking. It is slightly revolutionary looking at my lot and questioning it. But thirty, I figure it’s time for a third-of-my-life crisis.

But what? I mean what can I do between now and September that I can remember for the rest of my life?

I am too tired for a toy boy.
Too young for a face lift.
Too poor for a Ferrari.
Too chicken to travel.
Too lazy to finish my novel(s) in that time.

Too… I’m talking myself out of it! No!

Deadline:
I have given myself until the 1st of May to plot and plan and produce a third-of-my-life crisis.

Watch this space!

Musings - What my life could have been...

Growing up I wanted to be many things.

My parents indulged me to a certain extent, mostly I think because they wanted me to at least do something with my life. I had big dreams and little dreams, insane dreams and those that I will never list for anyone to see. (Being Mrs Mitchell took me through 12yrs – 21yrs ha ha)

Here are but a few of the professions that made it onto my “Tonight, Matthew, I’m going to be…” list.

5yrs – 6yrs: Dancer
I had lessons. I was just never any good at it.

7yrs – 9yrs: Teacher
Is it wrong to base a career move based on the need to keep others in line? Okay I admit I just loved to call the fake registers.

10yrs: Restaurant Owner
Someone gave me an old telephone and I used to take imaginary food orders. I added the owner part as working in a Take Away didn’t seem to be ambitious enough.

11yrs: Professional
I had a pencil case, a briefcase and a calculator. I was destined for Wall Street.

12yrs: Actress
I had one good drama lesson. I figured I would get to meet Ethan Hawke. I soon realised that the paralysing fear of performing did not a good thespian make.

13yrs: Musician
I can play a little Recorder, a little Guitar, a little Horn and a little Piano. I’m bad at all the littles. Calling myself a musician… like calling Paint by Numbers art (sorry Jo).

14yrs – 15yrs: Interpreter
I can’t speak any other languages. I am limited to Xie Xie, Dove il gato? and Konnichi Wa. I was bolstered by a good parents evening and although my parents forked out for an electronic translator… it was not to be.

16yrs: Librarian
I love books. Have 900 of my own. As I dislike libraries for trusting local fools with their books again I came to the conclusion that I was barking up the wrong profession tree.

17yrs – 18yrs: Artist
This was a possibility as I can actually paint and I was at an age where decisions needed to be made. But while I could paint… I didn’t love doing it.

18yrs – 22yrs: Marketer
I had a knack for marketing; for segmenting the world, knowing what they wanted and how to make them buy it. I even went to university to try and confirm that this road was for me. It didn’t work. I’m not a con artist.

So this is my list. My to do’s that didn’t. You might be wondering what happened after 22yrs? Well, I work in a college office… biding my time until my lottery win. But I do have one dream, a dream that followed me through the teaching and the drawing and ivory tinkering.

That dream was to write, to open up my creative soul and let it spill through the medium of the written word.

At 29 I’m still waiting to do that something with my life but at least I feel that writing is my calling. All I need to do now is take myself seriously and then maybe others will too.

Musings - My work area (for now... sob)

Before I move sites I decided to take a couple of photographs of my work area. This way I can remember what it was like to work somewhere civilised with a window and a desk big enough to actually work at.

Out of all the photographs that I took these were my favourites.

My lucky crab - he is dysfunctional, alas.

My desk - note the mobile phone and the Bagpuss mug -
I get work done... honest!

My Harry, my Cone, my Badge and my strange little purple Fuzz -
things that mark my desk as mine.

As of next week who knows where I will be, what my environment will be like... oh if only my Crab wasn't so lazy and Harry's little plastic wand was real. x

Musings - Walk Around the Water

Having a dog means that I get out (occasionally) and about (when I can be bothered). Like anything that is good for you and requires a little effort, taking Rohan out isn't actually as bad as I think it is going to be once I'm doing it. It's just the idea of getting off my arse on a Sunday afternoon... I'm lazy.

The other Sunday we decided to head to a local walk called Ogden Water. A council maintained reservoir surrounded by woods and streams and an ice cream van. It's one of my favourite places and, okay I admit, well worth leaving the sofa for. With the recent snow OW has been a winter wonderland and now we are thawed it's still a wonderland just a rather muddy one. Rohan loves it though; my car and carpets... not so much.

That's her on the right with the inane grin and flapping behind her ears.

There is something almost mystic about OW (if you ignore all the dog doo left over from idiot owners) and more often than not when you look over the water you can almost picture Heaven peeping through the clouds. I have started to take my camera with me and, when Rohan isn't trying to knock me flying by jumping at the back of my knees, I have been able to get some nice shots. I won't win any competitions but my photos, I think, manage to encapsulate what the Water is about.

The Second photo shows the Heaven I was talking about, peeping, guarding over the squirrels and the ducks.

There are a variety of walks around the Water. For the stroller there is a path that runs around the edge from the car park to the dam to the visitor centre (yeah it has a little one of those too) and back to the car park.

For the more adventurous there are the woodland walks taking you up and down, through the mud and in and amongst the nature of it all. The woodlands also include trails for children with markers to look out for such as giant wooden rodents and a thigh high carved mushroom which looks uncannily like a big 'willy'. (I didn't take a photo of that... didn't want to look like a mushroom stalking perv).

There are also the stream walks. A little rocky, uneven and potentially foot wetting. Not for the average plodder I'm afraid.

Alternatively, find one of the many benches, take a seat, bask in the sun and refuse to move.

Here is Rohan again, pleading for a treat because she came back to her whistle call. The photo doesn't show that it took four whistles and a lot of huffing on her part before she would come back. That's her cute face, it comes hand in hand with the pleading.

As mentioned above, around Ogden Water there are a variety of benches for you to rest your legs. These benches are memorial in nature. They come with little plaques dedicated to loved ones. I always sit and take in the view, make sure that a good spot was chosen.


Photo 4 is taken from one of these benches. I can not remember the name detailed on it (even though at the time it felt important that I remember) and out of all the benches I sat on (much to Rohan's disgust) this was my favourite view.

You can just make out the ice still surrounding the edge of the water.


Now I love the walk and the water, the memories and glimpse of perfection but what I love the most is the recycling. Bizarre, huh? Ogden Water as a body of liquid is surrounded by a woven fence made from old Christmas trees and holly wreaths. Not only is it good for the environment but it looks beautiful and smells absolutely amazing.

So what I am trying to say is... if you have a favourite place, one that makes you feel magical and mystical and that little bit closer to heaven; go as often as you can. The sofa will always be there when you get home. :)

Musings - Adoption

There was a full page advertisement in the local courier today. Adopt Billie. There was a half page picture in grainy black and white of a young child complete with woolly hat, candles and an expression what pleaded for someone to love them. Below the picture was a list of what was needed to take care of Billie.

Some of the bulleted points were serious or at least hinted at a serious nature whilst others made me smile at their effort to add to the grainy picture a little of the child’s personality. This child loves yellow and crispy potatoes, asking questions and holding on tight.

And while I was reading I started to think to myself… is this what I am meant to be doing? Is my empty womb a sign that I am meant to give the love I have and the enthusiasm and humour I have to a child who is yet to feel any of those things but who is waiting out there for me to make that call; to adopt.

Something about it feels right, scary as hell but… right. Apparently I have to wait until I have considered my fertility treatment options before I (we) will be considered to take on any child but I am patient. One way or another I have love to give and will find a way to give it. :)

Musings - Study

I have just done three hours of study.

I hadn't intended to sit here that long, time just flew I guess. I am currently working on my Maths and Communications portfolios. I am 29, way too old to be faffing about with Key Skills but I got roped into it because my GCSE certificates are twelve years old. See... way too old.

So now I am done for the night, my brain is tired, my eyes are sore and my legs are cramped courtesy of the laptop.

The husband is on the XBOX (surprise) so I might have a snooze beside him with the Rohan.

Or better yet...

Musings – Plastic Body Parts; Shudder.

I have a fear of dolls. It’s called Pediophobia, I googled it.

The name itself also looks pretty horrific especially in today’s world and you could easily be mistaken into thinking it is a fear of something else entirely. But it is dolls. This type of fear is also labelled as an automatonophobia which is a ‘fear of humanoid figures’. That sums it up more accurately as on a whole my fear includes anything that is made to look human or animated when it really really shouldn’t.

Now I know that other than Chucky no doll is going to suddenly turn its googly eyed expression in my direction and set chase. I know that the resuscitation aids (who commonly lack arms and legs) are not going to waddle menacingly on their torso’s down the corridor to get me. I know China Dolls in their ridiculously lifelike outfits are not as evil as they appear to be; even if they are often lined up on someone’s bedroom shelf in attack formation. And I know that Marks and Spencer’s manikins with their Per Una outfits and detachable extremities are not possessed with a zombie like need to sample my medulla oblongata.

But still I shrivel at the very thought. I sweat and shiver, every hair on my body stands on end, my stomach turns over and my eyes widen to horror movie proportions. My very core rejects plastic body parts in the same way it would if I was asked to eat a camel’s testicle. (I watch TV, I know my ‘Get me out of here’ boundaries).

What I am trying to say is you can’t help what you fear, however preposterous it might be. And you should never mock another person’s fear; I laughed at a fear of sticky hands and was consequently presented with a Barbie.

Though I have to admit: Barbie? I could kick her ass.

So a fear of dolls…

Irrational: Yes.
Helpless to overcome it: Yes
Praying that when I eventually have a child it’s a boy as footballs and mud are perfectly acceptable in my warped mind: Yes.

Musings - Where did I go?

Sometimes I fear that my lack of organisation is what is making my life go by so fast. Perhaps if I was to fill my time more effectively I might be able to slow the hands of my biological clock or at least achieve more in the sorrowful amount of time I have left.

I have decided to write myself a schedule.

I will start with a week, nothing too adventurous. I will input all that I currently do but also what I want to get out of my week. I want to know where my hours go! I want to see if I can free up some time to be Stacy.

That might seem a strange thing to say as I am pretty much Stacy 24/7 but the Stacy that makes me me is disappearing and I want her back.

I am too busy being wife, daughter, friend, worker, mother to a terrorising Terrier and to be honest moaner. I don’t like it. There is no time left to find out who I am, who I am becoming as I age and how far I am from the person I expected to be.

So I am going to be organised. I am going to take charge of myself and see where it gets me.

Watch this space ladies and gents. Mission Accepted.

Musings - Ice Day

I am not at work today. Ice Day.

Thank you Calderdale College; I prefer vegitating to risking life, limb and vehicle. Instead I am curled on the sofa absorbing warmth from the laptop.

From my cosy view point I just watched a woman go oopsy daisy splat right outside the house. I think her pride was hurt more than her ample bottom but she got up, soldiered on, not even noticing me chuckling from the living room window. I am so going to hell but at least I won't be lonely; my Mum will be down there, she'd have laughed too.

When I got the call to abandon my journey I had high hopes of being productive... housework, NVQ, Wii Fit, writing... I ended up blogging. I ended up reading the blogs of others too and I am impressed. Can people really be that tortured? Witty? Happy? I guess my answer is to read on.

But not right now... housework, NVQ, Wii Fit, writing... calls. I guess it is better than the reports that I would otherwise be doing?

I think the husband can make me a cup of tea. No milk, no sugar. Pint pot please.