tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38084524783707593872024-03-12T20:49:42.741+00:00DiarioSallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.comBlogger1505125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-81462152298275529852024-03-12T20:48:00.003+00:002024-03-12T20:48:25.966+00:002024 Weeknote 10<p>It was a busy old week. I drove to Walsall on Thursday night for a trust meeting on Friday, then drove straight on to Wales to join the bunkhouse sprucing volunteer party. I spent all day Saturday cleaning and this was more blissful than it sounds. The meals were all cooked for me, the woodburner kept stoked and there was barely any internet so it was delightfully peaceful. The rest of the work party were mostly decades older, mostly male and mostly retired teachers with a heavy predilection for outward bound - hence their love of the bunkhouse - and it was sort of nice to be back in this quaint time where it's perfectly acceptable to say that, since it's international women's day, perhaps the international women should wash up? Cute. Woman clean. Man fix things with drill. All know their place. I didn't mind it for a weekend and I dutifully donned the marigolds...someone else had cooked, after all. Also I am shockingly bad at DIY. I don't care enough to do it well. </p><p>In solidarity, I invited the other woman from the volunteer party to come along with us to Wonderwool next month. </p><p>I drove home earlyish on Sunday because I had an interview on Monday, for an internal role, the one I am currently doing. I got the job. Both pleased and disappointed, as this means I will definitely be working and doing a Masters at the same time next year. I guess we'll suck it and see. </p><p>I finished Prisoners of Geography on the drive home from Wales. In the end, I didn't like it much. It was very interesting but, having now listened to quite a lot of non-fiction about the continent of Africa, I found what he had to say to be quite narrow-minded. This was not helped by the narrator who had quite the public school accent. I'm sure a lot of well-educated people will take comfort from the narrative that Africa is underdeveloped because of its unlucky geography but I don't buy it. When he referred to Jared Diamond as 'that most lucid of writers', I realised this was not really the book for me. </p><p>I've moved on to one from my favourite genre of audiobook, women escaping from religious cults: Uncultured by Daniella Mestyanek Young. The Children of God sound like a particularly unpleasant bunch of people, or at least they were in the 1990s, but it has given me some fodder to discuss with my students when it comes to the limits that should (or should not) be placed on personal freedoms for adults. </p><p>I've been knitting away at a new jumper, Topolino, that I cast on just before the Great Hexagon Knit, and I'm about 16 rows off dividing the sleeves and body. I have creeping dread about not having finished my nephew's latest Presto Chango, but I am afraid it will be too big and it will go into the black hole of knitwear that my sister-in-law doesn't want to put on her children. Trying not to feel aggrieved about this, they are her kids after all. </p><p>I feel like other things must have happened last week. There were two leaving parties on Monday, one for some school colleagues and one, on Zoom, for an exam board colleague. On Tuesday I had another exam board meeting after school but it didn't go on too long. I watched a lot of Better Call Saul and Game of Thrones...now into the epic sixth season of GoT which I probably think is the best. </p><p>And nobody pulled my hair last week so that is a definite win. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-77675447547991200092024-03-03T12:02:00.001+00:002024-03-03T12:02:44.198+00:002024 Weeknote 9<p>Another quite quiet week. I brought very little work home and found that I had plenty of time to finish my blanket hexagons (all done now and ends sewn in on over half of them, hurrah!) and continue with Better Call Saul and Game of Thrones. I had a sports massage on the dodgy hamstring - defo a hamstring, it seems, and not the ACL, which has felt better since though still a little twingey. I gave blood, my 22nd donation, completed in 7 mins 48sec, which is quite slow for me but I probably haven't been drinking enough water this week.</p><p>I had a bad school day on Friday with some students who were verbally quite abusive and then one of them ever so slightly pulled my hair. This sounds like a small thing but it is a big thing when it happens. The idea that a student could cross a line and make physical contact with me does not make me feel particularly safe, so I'll be following that up robustly next week. At the same time, I'm writing my application letter for the permanent senior role and, once again, considering whether I really want to be in a job where children think this is an acceptable way to behave towards other human beings, let alone their teachers. </p><p>Timehop reminds me, though, that this term is always the worst for my personal morale. In this term, over the past 20 years, I was passed over for a pay rise, passed over for a promotion, shouted at by a colleague for doing things differently to how she would have done them and put on a support plan because of a single lesson observation. But this is also the term when I've got new jobs, run the ever-popular murder mystery weekend and prepared for lots of ski trips. A hinge point in the year, clearly. Lows but lots of highs.</p><p>I finished An Inspector Calls on audiobook and started Prisoners of Geography, which begins with a chapter on why Russia thinks it has to control Ukraine - particularly interesting as this is a few years old now and pre-dates the current conflict. </p><p>I'm off to Bristol Lido now for a spa and a massage. This is sponsored by a generous voucher from the parents of last year's ski trippers: another positive to dwell on. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-88606006784289717932024-02-25T18:19:00.001+00:002024-02-25T18:27:05.252+00:002024 Weeknote 8<p>It's been a bit of a nothing week. Term started but I found myself a bit listless and struggled to get much done, partly because I was quite literally listless - everything on my list was either massive and unstartable without taking some time to break it down, or tiny and over in a flash. I had a ski meeting on Monday night and an exam board meeting on Wednesday, and took my hurty leg (which I now think might be an over-extended ACL, following a conversation with someone at work) to a gym session at which we just did upper body. I'm actually missing my usual gym routine, even though it wasn't particularly often, so I've got a physio session booked in next week. </p><p>I did resign from my permanent job. This isn't quite the news that is seems to be, because I will apply for a senior role when it's advertised internally and I am about 70/30 sure I'll get it. For various reasons, though, it was sensible to quit what I no longer have any desire to return to and the thought that I might <i>not</i> get the senior role and then I might have next year off is as comforting as thinking that I will get it. I can't lose. I was also approached about being involved in a bid to do some work across the region over the next three years, led by a woman I have wanted to work with for a while, and the head is happy to support me in this so that was an exciting whiff of the future as well.</p><p>I finished The Vanishing Witch and started a new book called The Ottoman Secret, which is set in an alternative reality where the Ottoman Empire defeated Vienna and went on to conquer Europe. It's OK but I realised when I started it that the main recommender, on the front cover, is Lee Child - I wouldn't normally read this genre. But it might be good to branch out.</p><p>I finished the outstanding How the Word is Passed and liked it so much that I ordered a physical copy as well. It's World Book Day soon and we've been asked to read to all our classes that day from a favourite book, so I will choose that one. I've got a couple of new audiobooks in the wings but think I will next be listening to An Inspector Calls because that's the team dress-up for World Book Day and I should probably know what it's about.</p><p>I am really, really close to finishing the hexagon blanket - just two more hexagons to go. And then the sewing in, and the blocking, and the sewing up. It is too big to lay out on the sitting room floor, I can't imagine how big it will be once they're all blocked. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qJX5lu3TJ_tdU21pecO9mMMI6P-bFviLqITiYfsR3hqxtnqTt99tsJB5TV0h0gybGIlJyo2cEfUy6MRW008IFYwaqiJnSfWjwje9yC_7GNo9O1fka8RoezDg-xLBdiolYyOkibvV8eGg2BQerC_RlFLIRSGWl99o06F7xKPiMXt0l5PNUh9cwscRzExY/s3971/IMG_20240225_180609.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2391" data-original-width="3971" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qJX5lu3TJ_tdU21pecO9mMMI6P-bFviLqITiYfsR3hqxtnqTt99tsJB5TV0h0gybGIlJyo2cEfUy6MRW008IFYwaqiJnSfWjwje9yC_7GNo9O1fka8RoezDg-xLBdiolYyOkibvV8eGg2BQerC_RlFLIRSGWl99o06F7xKPiMXt0l5PNUh9cwscRzExY/w640-h386/IMG_20240225_180609.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The different colours down the right-hand side are piles of hexagons in the colourways where I didn't have two full skeins of yarn - mostly these are piles of 4; I'm not totally sure how to incorporate them yet. I think it's interesting how similar the two colourways in the middle look, both quite pale grey. They are not the same, the upper one being Winter is Coming, which is the one I still need to finish (hence the gaps) and the lower one being A River Runs Through It. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Lenin came to do his inspection and he found it passable. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEeokJpkkGqn4ZxTENvYoRIH1ngoJiNPzi-Ma5iGoQq4fCE8dFUQB24Q8442NyHwbdChzbvskRX6dx5VFg_78tSqPMVr4G9ZHkyBdgecixfVgbDFBjHA_G2OTFq1ebJgbfm1HAgBFZOtBroxv0AQDVYVd1DLyvqgWFGMiQP_cNa5Ccb1TpMw85OVTpv7xc/s3142/IMG_20240225_180550.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3142" data-original-width="3008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEeokJpkkGqn4ZxTENvYoRIH1ngoJiNPzi-Ma5iGoQq4fCE8dFUQB24Q8442NyHwbdChzbvskRX6dx5VFg_78tSqPMVr4G9ZHkyBdgecixfVgbDFBjHA_G2OTFq1ebJgbfm1HAgBFZOtBroxv0AQDVYVd1DLyvqgWFGMiQP_cNa5Ccb1TpMw85OVTpv7xc/s320/IMG_20240225_180550.jpg" width="306" /></a></div><p>This weekend was the last chance I had to get out in my kayak if I wanted to meet my resolution, so yesterday I duly strapped it onto the roof of my car and set off in search of water. They turned out to be ill omens that I got the ratchets ratchetting first time and that the sun came out as I set off. My first attempt, down by Hanham Mills, would certainly have resulted in the loss of my kayak and/or my death as the water was very high (the pier was higher than the bank) and flowing at considerable speed. I nearly went home but then decided it was too nice a day to waste, so I headed to Bristol harbour, as I thought the water would be calmer. Probably it was but I never found out because the road to my usual spot was closed. I probably could have reached it via another route, but by that point I had been driving around for the better part of an hour and I would have probably managed 20 minutes on the water before I needed to reload to make it home before dark.</p><p>So I have failed in my resolution, but not for want of trying. There was a huge puddle in the Hanham car park, maybe I should have put it in there. My PT suggested that such a choice might help me become an internet sensation, though, and I think that's best avoided. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-36266904043254913412024-02-18T21:35:00.000+00:002024-02-19T21:35:10.833+00:002024 Weeknote 7<p>To France this week, for the now-annual ski holiday to Les Carroz. Rachael and I found ourselves back in the large apartment we stayed in during our first visit, in 2019, which was a treat as there were only three of us this time, so we had a room each. It snowed the day before we arrived so I was treated to snowy trees, which is one of my favourite ski views - normally all the snow has melted off them by the time I get to a resort.</p><p>Generally, there was glumness about the lack of snow from the locals but we found enough to ski on; it was a bit hairy towards the bottom of the slopes where they'd been making the fake snow, but on day 3 we got all the way over to Flaine for a view of Mont Blanc and the snow was really good. The skiers less so...I swear a lot of those blues are not really blue, but there were still dozens of people attempting to get down them when they didn't have enough skill to be able to both navigate the increasingly mogully terrain at the same time as showing some awareness of anyone else on the slope. It was a bit scary at times. </p><p>I decided, once, to cut across some very tame-looking off-piste and join a quieter slope, and then fell over just as I was about to join it. I felt what I assume was a hamstring twang right across the back of my leg, as naturally my ski stayed put and my body had to accommodate the fall. I skied on for the rest of the day but by the evening, my leg was sore and giving way periodically, so I took Thursday off skiing and got a pastry in town instead, followed by a long visit to the spa. It was adults-only night which, as it turns out, means 'definitely bring your 16-year-old children' and 'publicly shag in the little pods in the spa pool', neither of which we expected. But it was better than Tuesday, which is apparently the perfect day to bring your children into the fairly small spa pool so they can practice swimming between your legs and/or endlessly splash everyone.</p><p>In all, it was a bit childrenny for me all week, but I suppose they have to go on holiday too. </p><p>I enjoyed the new ski trousers. It was nice skiing in white as this seemed a bit cooler, although they were not particularly wicking. Hella comfy, though. Very high-waisted and I loved the braces as it meant there was no tugging up or being pinched by a belt. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAttOkDImbC8BNYwS1t1cCnkOtr1Vd_NpzHzL5S9eHEVi6fCqDgnvrDPabsKgeG8L11eyhGvFalaCOEzHHBu3_cfu_09uw2K8Xm4bkImt0bJH9xYqg5NSx0Gh2qpUY0VHuYiGChm-EJEJwaXW69K_fCB3ywpZLD7H6283Dc4rsvXVJGZPGKEk4CX49TgOA/s4608/IMG20240213114519.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAttOkDImbC8BNYwS1t1cCnkOtr1Vd_NpzHzL5S9eHEVi6fCqDgnvrDPabsKgeG8L11eyhGvFalaCOEzHHBu3_cfu_09uw2K8Xm4bkImt0bJH9xYqg5NSx0Gh2qpUY0VHuYiGChm-EJEJwaXW69K_fCB3ywpZLD7H6283Dc4rsvXVJGZPGKEk4CX49TgOA/s320/IMG20240213114519.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>This is astonishingly good matching of the bottom of my jacket to the edge of the cliff behind me, considering I took it by propping my phone up on a ski holder. Also - new helmet. </p><p>Whilst away, Zoe and I booked our summer holiday to Italy: a couple of days in Rome, followed by 10 days in Sorrento and Amalfi. I secretly booked a seaview room with a balcony jacuzzi for Amalfi as I know this will go down well. I fear it might be too hot for a hot tub, but the thought is there. I can't wait to return to my spiritual home and eat all the pasta. </p><p>I continued with my hexagon efforts all week long and I'm now slightly ahead of myself, having completed 22 so far this month, even though it's only the 18th. Go me! Eight more and the whole project will be knitted. Just 200-odd ends to sew in and then I have to somehow join it together. </p><p>I've continued reading The Vanishing Witch - 100 pages to go so I might finish it this week - and watching Better Call Saul, as well as Game of Thrones. I'm into series 3 of GoT already. There's that eagerness when you've seen it before, isn't there? I couldn't wait for Daenerys to get to the Unsullied; now that's past, I can't wait for the Red Wedding. Since the leg is still quite stiff, it's the perfect excuse to prop it up and watch another one. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-45850508685432259892024-02-11T09:18:00.000+00:002024-02-11T09:18:57.762+00:002024 Weeknote 6<p>The last week of term hurtled past with all the grace of a juggernaut with boy-racer twin exhaust pipes and a rave going on in the cockpit. By mid-week I was drafting my letter of resignation, no longer able to remember any of the reasons why I wanted to do the job at the same time as undertaking a Masters. But I managed to remind myself that we shouldn't make any hasty decisions during the last week of term and things did pick up a bit towards the end of the week. </p><p>I went to see Wicked with my friend E on Wednesday night. I last saw it in London with Mother Hand a good number of years ago, so it was great to get a refresher. I love the soundtrack and the cast were marvellous. I've got a couple of other musicals booked in for later in the year, something to look forward to. </p><p>I continue with the same books and TV as last week because there hasn't been a great deal of time for either. I have, however, kept up with my goal of knitting a hexagon every day and, though I fell behind with the midweek theatre trip happening, I caught up and even got a little ahead of myself, starting hexagon number 11 of the month yesterday. I am not sure what will happen if I miss several days in a row, because catching up will be daunting, but I will keep my efforts going as long as I can. I have 19 hexagons left to knit. This month marked its 10th birthday as a project. Liking that it might be finished by its 11th birthday. </p><p>I'm off skiing today and, yesterday, something really and truly momentous happened. For the first time in my adult life, I walked into a shop and bought a pair of women's ski trousers, in my size, off the rack. If you've ever had the misfortune to get me started on the topic of size inclusive skiwear, you may be aware that this is the grindiest of all my axes. I currently have two pairs of ski trousers - one is plus-sized men's snowboard trousers - baggy enough that the hip-to-waist ratio isn't unmanageable; the other pair I ordered from Columbia USA to be delivered to Father Hand's house during a visit there, because Columbia USA won't ship their products to Europe and Columbia EU considers XL to be as far as it needs to go to be size inclusive. I once wrote a long and detailed email to a British skiwear company, OOSC, when I sent them back something I'd ordered and they contacted me for feedback; the response was about one line, explaining that they might consider it in the future. Disappointed was not the word, though it wasn't unexpected. </p><p>(I have just been to look at their website and see that they have extended their size range to XXL and they do actually have a Curve range now too. The sizing stops at a UK20, so no good for me, but this is progress. My dream of owning an all-in-one continues.)</p><p>I concluded - fat, European women are not allowed to ski. Fat men - yes. Fat American women - yes. But if you're in Europe, you'd better find another hobby, eating maybe, or staying out of sight where nobody has to see you. Fat women are not welcome here. </p><p>Grindiest of axes.</p><p>Anyway, I walked into Mountain Warehouse last night just to browse, they are newly opened nearby and I wanted to see what sort of range they had. And they had women's ski trousers up to a size 24 and in more than one colour. Granted those options were black or white, but even the existence of one pair marks a milestone. I tried on the white pair, convinced they were not going to fit - the last time I ordered plus size online from a British company I was left feeling utterly disheartened because I ordered a size 26 and they didn't fit...I am not, have never been, a 26 in any other type of garment. But they did fit! So I bought them. They were better than half price so even though I am not someone who can wear white, as a spiller, I felt this was a good deal. </p><p>I know this is a long old story for a pair of ski trousers but, seriously, you don't know how amazing it feels to finally be able to go and buy off the rack. One year I accidentally gave my ski trousers away to charity and had to beg a rental pair off the place we use for school - they didn't fit and I spent my ski holiday with the flies and button undone because they were the only option available. I've given up wearing men's jackets, which make me look like an upside-down triangle, and will ski in a cagoule if I can't get a proper jacket. I idly consider investing in my own start-up to make women's skiwear in extended size ranges, until I remember that this is something I know almost nothing about. So, it was an exciting day. </p><p>I took a picture in the fitting room but it is deeply unflattering as I didn't bother to remove my skirt first, so convinced was I that it wouldn't fit. But I reserve the right to come back and add a picture of myself skiing in them.</p><p>Happy trails, everyone. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-25763520565119901162024-02-04T21:43:00.019+00:002024-02-04T21:54:17.745+00:002024 Weeknote 5<p>An exciting work week, because I actually managed to get on top of my workload. I know it's folly to say it out loud but, yey. The A-level marking was hugely burdensome and I finished it very late: it was hanging over me right up until Friday and that made every evening quite miserable, as I tried to force myself to finish it late into the evening. I'm not very good at making myself do late-night marking but I no longer see this as a failing.</p><p>The term started crazy busy and hasn't really improved, but this week is (I say with caution) potentially quieter and then it is half term and I'll be in France, skiing. Almost close enough to touch. </p><p>On Tuesday, I went to a lecture from Sathnam Sanghera on his new book, Empireworld. Lizzy and I went together and managed to snag a comfy sofa for the hour, which was a definite win. It was an interesting talk but a powerful reminder that he is a journalist, not a historian: the political commentary was strong. Looking forward to reading the book, though. </p><p>On Saturday I presented at an online history conference, which meant I got a free pass to the lecture from Corinne Fowler in the afternoon, which I shared with Lenin and a delicious pastry from Farro. More aspects of British Empire, I am just lapping this stuff up this year. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgguo94Fm_7dMjsVxZBYlnTOcMTAZMlUcNw5NXT0lWDyk57PMmDxwr5Wk5aa8enL6qPHNmLR10F5itXMgjzF-T96HrA5m4JM5BAPDgwl-rufgCnkwXKqzzDhqSHjv_-9h0ORgB9vUe3EXDhdZl-5NgwaDeZoJuV7kU08hZkp4LVa-LzxmSBcCJ31gytlPDA/s4000/IMG20240203152114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3008" data-original-width="4000" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgguo94Fm_7dMjsVxZBYlnTOcMTAZMlUcNw5NXT0lWDyk57PMmDxwr5Wk5aa8enL6qPHNmLR10F5itXMgjzF-T96HrA5m4JM5BAPDgwl-rufgCnkwXKqzzDhqSHjv_-9h0ORgB9vUe3EXDhdZl-5NgwaDeZoJuV7kU08hZkp4LVa-LzxmSBcCJ31gytlPDA/s320/IMG20240203152114.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I wound some yarn this weekend for two sweater projects and ultimately cast on the Madelinetosh Dandelion I bought at Jimmy Beans <a href="http://diario.bunny-land.com/2015/08/stash-enrichment-jimmy-beans.html" target="_blank">nearly a decade ago,</a> for an Isabelle Kramer sweater, Topolino. I want to knit a Confetti sweater striped in red and grey, but then I wound the red and saw it by the blue...hmm, maybe I want a nice red and bright blue stripe instead. Enough unsurety to pause starting it, anyway. </p><p>Having wound it and cast on, I then spent the weekend knitting hexagons for the blanket. I now have the end in sight, having made a start on all of the different shades I had amassed (I think...I almost fear to look in the stash) and I think I have 26 left to go. It has struck me that if I can manage one per day through the month of February, I will be nearly done. This seems like an impossible goal but, we will see what I manage. </p><p>I finished the audiobook version of Fearing the Black Body, which was good but (as mentioned last week) quite high brow and, if I'm honest, I think she made a better case for fatphobia having its roots in class over race. I started a new audiobook looking at the legacy of slavery in America, called How the Word is Passed, which is a tour of key sites in the USA and how they commemorate the legacy of slavery. I've also been plugging away with The Vanishing Witch which was hard-going to start with, but I've got quite into it now. </p><p>We continue with Better Call Saul and, over the weekend, I started my rewatch of Game of Thrones. I love the difference in production value in the first series - series 1, looking up at that Weirdwood tree which is clearly made of fake leaves, plastic veins at all. By the end of the programme - CGI zombie dragons and Ed Sheeran. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfAjeKKLo3XsUaXHaRnW84QRTYKD09MACCgZ2-g1NJhZOUtkfup16FgcJFkCZPhNIvtP4hSGdKgVBb6CO7LP9ReZ-zcqtX53qpxPzAmXCRVyShugQt4ZFOz8S44rXpMJr0Gbj4t1M5ZvdSt7kLE8xS6yUWdZ5E6a88KuPoyrKvQtB81M6x2QqxOo9IHtUh/s4000/IMG20240204091322.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfAjeKKLo3XsUaXHaRnW84QRTYKD09MACCgZ2-g1NJhZOUtkfup16FgcJFkCZPhNIvtP4hSGdKgVBb6CO7LP9ReZ-zcqtX53qpxPzAmXCRVyShugQt4ZFOz8S44rXpMJr0Gbj4t1M5ZvdSt7kLE8xS6yUWdZ5E6a88KuPoyrKvQtB81M6x2QqxOo9IHtUh/s320/IMG20240204091322.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><p>I keep coming across snippets and bits of information about ultra-processed foods and the advice to aim to eat 30 plants a week, so I thought I would see how I got on this week, without really trying. I'm not sure lemon really counts as it was just the peel, but I was quite pleased with my list. I could have added wheat but I'm not sure that's quite in the spirit of the game. I've also started drinking a daily greens powder, boost up the vits a bit with the ski holidays coming up. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-62263662110052729792024-01-27T21:55:00.000+00:002024-01-27T21:55:15.800+00:002024 Weeknote 4<p>The best news of this week was that I got a place on the Masters course at Oxford. I don't know which college yet but I have signed the paperwork and submitted requests for my transcripts to be sent directly to them...something else that has to be paid for. Higher education is not cheap, is it? Certainly not as cheap as I got it first time round. </p><p>I've decided that I will ask for a sabbatical from work. I have come up with dozens of reasons why this is a good idea, but am resigned to going into line management with the head this week and come out having been talked into doing both. Maybe not...it is a lot of days out of school I'll be needing. We will see. My beloved history colleague announced her intention to leave this week so I am in a quandary, panicking that it will be a whole new history team next year and all of my empire building will be reworked. But that's as it needs to be, I guess. Just because I've got it perfect for me (and, imo, the students) doesn't mean it will be perfect for anyone else. </p><p>I dragged my weary carcass to yoga midweek for once this week. I still miss hot yoga a lot but am trying to make myself love regular yoga. Plus I was mega stiff from over-exertion at the gym on Sunday, 35kg bench press don't you know, and didn't my pecs know for the following three days. Yoga helped and I was pleasantly aching through my back muscles for a couple of days. I've got this yoga headstand stool now that I am quite good at using, though I can never be bothered to warm up so don't touch it at home - doing a bit of home yoga would be a good addition to daily life, along with the greens powder I impulse-purchased this week. </p><p>This morning I got up and went to Gloucestershire to do some kayaking. I meant to do this a fortnight ago but managed to talk myself out of it. Today I just drank my coffee, ate my breakfast, dressed in a mishmash of warming clothes and dragged the kayak out of the garage without trying to think too hard about it. I went to the Sharpness canal by Purton Ships Graveyard and found a great place to park right next to one of the swing bridges, with a handy little dock for putting in. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3LIC8EVotmgNRQKqBWNaMbDccykmtBQEXH0YqC-_68FqZX3q-5dp7tE25ZT0mG5q1iZRhbe7fzr9XjZom5htWs3LNymaVuqxo4H4D3sPvI7hwc8j294w06F63VcKJVy_bnCNNJ2DjgFKS-ijZ9i8vwz6g658x-nOGYVVjgG7_RS4Gn5PRiikB23En5Jic/s4000/IMG20240127115809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3LIC8EVotmgNRQKqBWNaMbDccykmtBQEXH0YqC-_68FqZX3q-5dp7tE25ZT0mG5q1iZRhbe7fzr9XjZom5htWs3LNymaVuqxo4H4D3sPvI7hwc8j294w06F63VcKJVy_bnCNNJ2DjgFKS-ijZ9i8vwz6g658x-nOGYVVjgG7_RS4Gn5PRiikB23En5Jic/s320/IMG20240127115809.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><p>This is an important place in the History of the Kayak, because it's where I decided I was going to get it. I went here for a Betwixtmas walk with Mother Hand in 2020 and spotted this little pond off the canal from the path on the other side. There were a couple of kayakers in the canal that day and I was so envious, wanting to go and explore the little pond that was clearly only accessible from the water. I convinced myself a kayak was what I needed and I bought mine the following June. I think today was maybe only its 9th or 10th use so I really need to start making more use of it. This year I have made a NY resolution to get out in it at least once per month, hence this morning's dash. Next time I think I might go back to Bristol harbour before my licence expires. </p><p>Anyway, the pond was a lovely little place. I didn't explore too much though, as I disturbed a heron and what looked like a black goose, which flew off, and there were the swans in there as you can see in the picture. This was not a place for humans, really. </p><p>I finished The Witness Wore Red and started the audiobook of Fearing the Black Body by Sabrina Strings, which is on the racial origins of fatphobia. It's quite a highbrow listen but happily it's not very long so I anticipate finishing it this week (I have a bad habit of just giving up on audiobooks that I have to concentrate on too much). I've started the Karen Maitland book I got out of the library but it is a hefty old hardback and I am not sure I can finish it before going on holiday in two weeks...we'll see. Otherwise I'll have to find another book to read as this one would seriously cut into my luggage allowance. </p><p>I'm a few stripes off finishing the second baby jumper sleeve, aided by episodes of Better Call Saul which we have finally started watching. It makes me nostalgic for the summer I spent with Father Hand in Albuquerque. He had an old blue clunker, similar to Saul's yellow car, that one day we had to coast down the mountain from a lecture we'd been to because he couldn't get it to start. He coasted it all the way back to his apartment, where he fixed it. Later we drove it all the way back to Florida together. I ran over a dead skunk; he told me to 'give it some welly' when I was overtaking something (a phrase I often repeat to myself if I need to gee myself up); we heard about Princess Diana's death in it, in the middle of the night, in Texas. Albuquerque is a kind climate for old clunkers. </p><p><br /></p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-44234944220785975742024-01-26T21:18:00.002+00:002024-01-27T21:24:48.845+00:00Scenes from the Classroom #42<p>Two in two days...my students are killing it this week.</p><p>It was last period on Friday. My energy and patience were both low. I had Year 7, in a computer room (we were not using the computers, that's just our room) and that is the worst because they are constantly swivelling on the chairs until I want to scream. Student A in this class is adorable and enthusiastic and has ADHD, which makes her shout out a lot and swivel an awful lot. I know she can't help it and I like her a lot which helps me maintain my temper. But today...</p><p>Me: (in the middle of another glorious explanation)</p><p>A: (shouts out loudly, over me, with a very tangential question)</p><p>Me: (grits) A, you know we've talked about this before, you really need to raise your hand and not shout out, particularly because it's Friday afternoon and I've only got about this much [indicates about an inch with finger and thumb] patience left. </p><p>A: Oh OK, yes Miss, sorry.</p><p>*Time passes*</p><p>Me: (explaining a task)</p><p>A: (shouts out another question)</p><p>Me: (double grits) A, remember what I just said...</p><p>A: Oh yes Miss, sorry, but you know how you said you only had this much patience? Well on a Friday afternoon I only have this much not shouting outness. </p><p><br /></p><p>This was not funny at the time but, thirty minutes later when the day was over, I almost cried with laughter retelling it to my colleagues. Bless her. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-49170397593674182192024-01-25T22:09:00.003+00:002024-01-25T22:09:51.841+00:00Scenes from the Classroom #41<p>I am Very Important at work now and have to go round collecting misbehaving students when they are not able to be in lessons. On Tuesday, I found a high-profile student sitting outside her Maths lesson, refusing to go in. She wouldn't move anywhere else or go back inside, so I sat and talked with her...at her...for 40 minutes. I got to the point where I offered to show her pictures of my pets, which was apparently the last straw because she finally, at that point, asked if she could go to the behaviour hub. A small victory on my part. </p><p>Today I asked her to move along from somewhere she was standing with her friends, which she took quiet exception to, but in a very Mean Girls way. She was a bit critical of my outfit and when I said I was wearing all black so I could wear my favourite bright shiny necklace (a rainbow, mirror affair from Tatty Devine) she responded with, 'Is it homemade Miss? It looks pretty DIY.'</p><p>Touche, mean girl. </p><p>Luckily this was offset by a lovely student who approached me in a corridor yesterday to tell me how much she'd enjoyed my Holocaust Memorial Day assembly. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-76580593955260505622024-01-21T17:40:00.000+00:002024-01-21T17:40:07.122+00:002024 Weeknote 3<p>It's been really cold all week, proper January weather with bright skies, hazy streets in the morning and lots of scraping required to get into the car. On one day this had to occur both inside and outside. I think I have probably spoiled the seal on my car with the roof bars I added for toting my kayak around.</p><p>Still, the afternoons are starting to get lighter and it's made for some colourful sunrises and sunsets, including this one from the back garden on Friday when I made it home before it got dark - a rarity at this time of year. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijfA6MEUge0ZoK1vPA6wcQbFsg6y5OHUmnsi01cFrGUMvciWa2BnkT3NtTaslySTIGTW9WTUrWe9CgTA-MP-FklYP4Y2X46aIlTAZViLbRy4QxKFHNUlRhelv8sZ07iew-WrJpibryGjA7aNgm_QzNoZ_xTGez6Es8Tlg7SF03uGgZ8-Jcd67Lo6iMAORk/s2160/IMG_20240121_171427.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1956" data-original-width="2160" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijfA6MEUge0ZoK1vPA6wcQbFsg6y5OHUmnsi01cFrGUMvciWa2BnkT3NtTaslySTIGTW9WTUrWe9CgTA-MP-FklYP4Y2X46aIlTAZViLbRy4QxKFHNUlRhelv8sZ07iew-WrJpibryGjA7aNgm_QzNoZ_xTGez6Es8Tlg7SF03uGgZ8-Jcd67Lo6iMAORk/s320/IMG_20240121_171427.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>It was my busier work week this week and there was a parents' evening, the briefing I give every other week and a staff meeting, on top of all the usual. So work was a bit of a grind but I have very much enjoyed hanging out with my team. The office is busier now that we have a trainee teacher and a new staff member, and on Friday we were all there and it was lovely to debrief and tell funny stories about the week. </p><p>I had an online interview for the Masters I applied for which turned out to be considerably less formal than I was expecting; I hadn't really done any prep for it until the night before, which also happened to be post-parents evening and so I was a bit nervous that I might show myself up. It is Oxford, after all. But the interviewers were very friendly and asked lots of questions that proved quite easy to answer, so I am feeling quite hopeful. I should know by the time next week. It works out as 20 days out of school and, on top of the exam work and another project that may or may not be in the works, I am realising that this is not conducive to working in school full time. I am in such a dither about taking some time out because I like so much about my current job and I know I'll be able to drop the things I don't like; perhaps this is a little message to me from the universe that I don't have to hate something to stop doing it; that I can leave on a high note; that doors stay open even when we choose to walk through others. </p><p>Fully leaning into my midlife crisis BTW. </p><p>I've continued listening to The Witness Wore Red on audiobook this week, I am really enjoying it. I've carried on reading the short ghost stories in Winter Spirits and have about four left to go, but I've just checked a Karen Maitland out of the library so I might dig into that and save the other ghost stories for next winter. I finished the front and collar of the garter stitch jumper I'm making for my friend Char whose partner has just had their baby - two weeks early, so this is good timing on my part. Just the sleeves to go. </p><p>I went to a really thought-provoking lecture by Ilan Pappe who was speaking about Palestine and its history, or (more specifically and controversially) the abuse of its history for the purposes of colonisers, over hundreds of years. This lecture was booked over a year ago and it is pure serendipity that it should come at this time of such rage and horror in that part of the world. There were lots of Opinions. The woman behind me at one point literally started clawing the desk. He wasn't what you'd call balanced, but then he didn't even pretend to be. The most interesting thing for me was the link he drew between the situation and both migration and the British Empire. This is what I love about a history lecture - I'll go and they will spin out a thread unknown to me, and yet when I pull on it I can see how it links to all of these other threads that I <b>do</b> know about. It's like spending a long time inspecting a spider web close up and then slowly realising that the web is connected to others that stretch as far as the eye can see. Something like that.</p><p>Today I went to the gym, then to do my marking at Starbucks, where I got to fuss a big softy of a labrador who flumped against my legs to allow for more fussing. So it has been a good day. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-77053433278754650502024-01-14T15:57:00.002+00:002024-01-14T15:57:26.915+00:002024 Weeknote 2<p> It's been a weird week this week. My dad died on Wednesday afternoon.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSChQ4DTgC8S1Oia-UOHdVXfYjosqx71ODAx2pfvXFapdatLaU7T-4TZlJu0DfvlvvW5n8WDDf1cDUVbI298ZUJ17ne-i2-xjoFtZBVfc1kubYyOWxM__a3nK4DkdU7ERe5yhKUZWfWwV2SmVoqtHUxVw3IRTCRyNCJ_brS1bwfRoOo6jE6GGdTAMNH-PZ/s4608/IMG_20190104_133831.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSChQ4DTgC8S1Oia-UOHdVXfYjosqx71ODAx2pfvXFapdatLaU7T-4TZlJu0DfvlvvW5n8WDDf1cDUVbI298ZUJ17ne-i2-xjoFtZBVfc1kubYyOWxM__a3nK4DkdU7ERe5yhKUZWfWwV2SmVoqtHUxVw3IRTCRyNCJ_brS1bwfRoOo6jE6GGdTAMNH-PZ/s320/IMG_20190104_133831.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>I think this is probably the last picture taken of us together, back in December 2018. I hadn't been out to visit since, until the week before Christmas when I flew out because he was very ill. He had Stage 4 cancer and was attempting to die quietly at home without any fuss - something he almost achieved. </div><div><br /></div><div>I took a day off work but still went on a planned trip to Hampton Court on Friday. It's interesting to navigate other people's expectations of how I should be feeling and acting. Father Hand moved to the USA when I was about 12 and, though we had a good relationship, it was a very sporadic one. We weren't in each other's lives a lot, most of the time. So I don't feel his loss too keenly at present. I expect I will feel it when I read a book I think he'd really like or something happens that I think he'd want to hear about, and I don't have anybody to tell. He really liked blues and guitar music so I anticipate getting tearful when I hear music like that being played. For now, though, I'm relieved that he was spared losing his mind or his sight, both things he was really concerned would happen. </div><div><br /></div><div>In spite of this, a lot of people have been encouraging me to be off work and looking after myself. Work <i>is</i> my self-care at the moment though. Even when I took the day off I spent half of it cleaning (what a horrible nightmare). He was a workaholic who, even when I saw him in Christmas and he needed a nap after transferring from his bed to the sofa, was talking about when he could get back to work, so the irony of this is not lost on me. But it's also not the time to address it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Other things have obviously happened this week but nothing particularly noteworthy. Generally I've been looking after myself and trying to have early nights. As he was dying I was having to crawl into bed really early under a wave of exhaustion, which isn't like me in the second week of term; I used to know when he was upset or he'd call me out of the blue when I was, so maybe it was connected to that. Who knows. </div><div><br /></div><div>This week I've got an online interview for a Masters I applied for. I'm insistent I will go to circuits tomorrow, as I'm only four weeks away from my next skiing holiday and last Monday, I talked myself out of it because it snowed. There's a good history lecture on Wednesday which might turn out to be a bit controversial, as it's focused on the history of the holy land. So there are good and interesting things planned to keep my spirits up. </div>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-79444735064773399702024-01-07T14:20:00.000+00:002024-01-07T14:20:12.740+00:002024 Weeknote 1<p>Giving this another whirl with a slightly less structured approach, to see if I can manage to write something every week. I did an online interview with someone yesterday for their PhD, which made me realise how much I miss writing a blog, even when it's about the most trivial topics. I don't know what's stopping me, though.</p><p>This week began with a fairly lazy Monday, during which I finished planning my session for the inset day and then went to look round the local David Lloyd, who reeled me in by advertising a 3-month contract. I can report that the 3-month contract results in access for 3 months whilst paying for 4, compared to the 12-month contract. Their facilities are insanely lush and it's very tempting, but I would need to be going every other day for me to feel I was getting my money's worth and I can't even read a book every other day at the moment, so I decided no. As usual, telling the person who showed me around was the most difficult part of the decision. </p><p>We started term on Tuesday and I thus spent the rest of the week exhausted, peaking on Wednesday afternoon when I fell asleep in my car at a traffic light. Thankfully the handbrake was on and I woke up before anybody needed to beep at me, but I was full-on dreaming. </p><p>As a result, there hasn't been much in the way of non-work but, between knitting group on Saturday morning and feeling inspired to get things done that afternoon, I did manage a few bits. I sewed buttons and added embroidery to the baby cardigan I've been knitting for my friend Rich, and reblocked - I finished all the knitting on this about 10 days ago but then, when I looked at it in daylight, realised the yarn I'd used for the sleeves and the button band must have been a different dyelot and was a slightly yellower shade of Natural. In daylight, this looked like nicotine staining. Not what anyone would choose for a baby cardigan. So, I ripped back and reknit - thankfully I had one more ball of Natural in a less 20-a-day shade. </p><p>I worked on sewing up my giant bluetit which has been almost finished for nearly four years (and I bought the kit in 2016); finished the back of a striped garter stitch jumper for my friend Charlotte's impending baby; and started the front panel for a new Presto Chango for my nephew. Much small-person knitting. I am ruminating about my next project, between two jumper options for me, a crochet blanket or a concerted effort to finish the hexagons. </p><p>I had a clear out of the knitting crate; Lenin helped. Eyeroll.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYiY2JrNpFnSl6C8Bf2sc5VdCmlTYKy337IbLwDTUOwgMY_XAqguQ9D8cBUMzQLzroCjoiZ-wulaDzd7Refd7S2AcKqRd00cWaf4a4FU4jueQ3rGA_1CaLjMQ6eLVK6icviGwFpJM08kHTlu44lxjcluXpSFPhCGhW65NURKkxbanw5x-7l3ih7uLNDQE/s4000/IMG20240106184032%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3008" data-original-width="4000" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjYiY2JrNpFnSl6C8Bf2sc5VdCmlTYKy337IbLwDTUOwgMY_XAqguQ9D8cBUMzQLzroCjoiZ-wulaDzd7Refd7S2AcKqRd00cWaf4a4FU4jueQ3rGA_1CaLjMQ6eLVK6icviGwFpJM08kHTlu44lxjcluXpSFPhCGhW65NURKkxbanw5x-7l3ih7uLNDQE/s320/IMG20240106184032%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I've started a new audiobook, The Witness Wore Red, which is my favourite genre of audiobook (women escaping religious cults) and is proving really compelling. I've been attempting to continue reading Winter Spirits, short ghost stories, but this hasn't mixed well with the aforementioned exhaustion. </p><p>I went to yoga on Wednesday (fell asleep in savasana) and took the headstand stool I impulse-purchased on black Friday. The instructor gave me some tips for using it. I had some more practice when I went to see my PT on Thursday. My whole body feels quite stiff and immobile at the moment so moving around more is definitely on the agenda for the coming week. </p><p>We've been playing some Super Luigi, as this wasn't finished during the Chirstmas holidays (it is tradition); we tried watching The Rings of Power but it was a slow start. I feel like I need to keep trying but, meh. Instead I switched to The Undoing, which has proved a good mystery. I'm onto the final episode now but I can't quite see what the answer will be. I think maybe Nicole Kidman did it, but there was a question asked and left unanswered in an earlier episode that might be the key. We'll see. </p><p>Work has been pretty tough. I'm setting cover for a member of staff teaching outside of my specialism and there is a limit to how long I can continue to do this and remain mentally healthy, I reckon. This has encouraged me even more strongly to step away from my teaching job next year, but after conversations with the headteacher, I think this is going to be tricky to do. I can see myself doing a new role and trying to manage the part-time Masters I'm applying for alongside it. This does not seem like it would help me achieve my aim of having choices about what I do with my time. But it might be fun. We'll see. </p><p><br /></p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-64636332803349147952023-12-29T15:25:00.001+00:002023-12-29T15:26:56.440+00:002023 Round up: Reads<p>A slightly better year for reading, this year. I continue to go to the library and browse, which helps with picking out books I like the look of, rather than just going on recommendations or books by authors I've previously read. As you'll see, though, I do have some authors that I return to. I've particularly enjoyed the work of Claire North and Karen Maitland this year. Maitland's books set in the middle ages are intensely creepy and don't seem to ever have a happy ending, which I curiously enjoy. </p><p><b>Ian Rankin</b> - Exit Music</p><p><b>Hafsa Zayyan</b> - We are all Birds of Uganda</p><p><b>Laura Shepherd Robinson</b> - Sugar in the Blood</p><p><b>Sarah Winman</b> - A Year of Marvellous Ways</p><p><b>K J Maitland</b> - Traitor in the Ice</p><p><b>Phillippa Gregory</b> - Dark Tides</p><p><b>Claire North</b> - Ithaca (highly recommended. Some absolutely killer lines)</p><p><b>Kate Grenville</b> - The Secret River</p><p><b>C J Carey</b> - Queen High (it turned out this was a sequel, which explained a lot when I realised) </p><p><b>Karen Maitland</b> - The Gallows Curse</p><p><b>Claire North </b>- The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August (AMAZING...I thought she couldn't have beaten Ithaca but this was probably my read of the year)</p><p><b>Phillippa Gregory</b> - Dawnlands</p><p><b>Gavin McCrea</b> - The Sisters Mao (unfinished - I didn't really rate it)</p><p><b>Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi</b> - The First Woman</p><p><b>Alan Garner</b> - The Weirdstone of Brisingamen (reverting back to easy reads as we slid into December)</p><p><b>Claire North</b> - The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August (I read this a second time, see above)</p><p><b>Karen Maitland</b> - A Gathering of Ghosts</p><p><b>Candice Carty-Williams</b> - Queenie (not what I was expecting or I wouldn't have started it. It wasn't bad. It's just that I am a bit over beach-read stories of women in their 20s)</p><p>Finishing up the year with The Winter Spirits - Ghostly Tales for Frosty Nights, a collection of short ghost stories by various authors. I was weak in Waterstones and bought this on a whim but it's perfect bedtime reading for December. </p><p><br /></p><div>Non-fiction - exclusively on audiobook this year as Mr Z installed a new stereo in my old car and so I can link my phone to it now. I can get through an average audiobook in about two weeks. </div><div><br /></div><div><b>Dipo Faloyin</b> - Africa is not a Country - this was my first listen of the year so I don't remember it too well, but - as with Brit-ish and Natives last year - it was helpful in presenting another perspective on world history, particularly as I continue to teach about the early British Empire. </div><p><b>Kit Malthouse </b>- The Maths of Life and Death - interesting but didn't catch my attention, this one took a long time to get through.</p><p><b>Peter Frankopan </b>- The Earth Transformed (unfinished) - this is 30 hours long and I didn't get past the ancient bits. Frankopan narrates and it made me chuckle that he can't pronounce some of the long words he loves to use. </p><p><b>Jessica Hill </b>- See What You Made Me Do - I loved this but it was a really tough listen. Made even better by the fact that Hill narrates it and sometimes is near tears with the stories she's having to tell. Most interesting was the case study of the town in America that started using public shaming (with support) to cut domestic violence rates. </p><p><b>Patrick Radden Keefe</b> - Say Nothing - about the Troubles in Northern Ireland. It was OK, some interesting historical points, such as how the IRA saw themselves as very leftie. Coming off the back of the previous listen, it was interesting to consider how much was leftie freedom-fighting and how much was toxic masculinity, in a country where half the male population were subjugated. Not read by the author and, imo, suffered for it - the reader clearly hadn't read the book ahead of time, there were weird pauses where he was obvs turning the page and hadn't prepared to do it, emphasis was wrong in places. </p><p><b>Johann Hari</b> - Stolen Focus: Why You Can't Pay Attention - ironically I listened to most of this while stuck in a three-hour traffic jam trying to get to Portsmouth. I didn't think there would be much to know but, as it turns out, it's all a bit creepier than I realised, what with the invention of infinite scroll. I already tightly control the notifications my phone is allowed to give me but this made me want to get hold of that 'How to break up with your phone' book, or at least uninstall some social media for 2024. </p><p><b>Thomas Halliday</b> - Otherlands - what a gorgeous book. I loved it. Each chapter is set in a different age of the world and written as a narrative description of what you might expect to see. I particularly liked the story of how the eastern Mediterranean refilled; the comment that everywhere, always, life builds on previous life; the explanation of how volcanic gases can smother a lake and kill everything in it; and the stories about how the world is changing through climate change - less coral but more glass sponges. I might buy this in hard copy to keep as there was so much I didn't know. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-43598147362702356692023-11-03T21:23:00.002+00:002023-11-03T21:23:25.549+00:00Fave Friday<p><u><b>Five favourite moments of half term</b></u></p><p><b>1. Level 42 concert</b></p><p>I booked these tickets for Mother Hand last Christmas. It took place in the King's Theatre, a place I've seen pantos and Rocky Horror, and where I danced on stage with the dance school I attended as a child. I was unfortunately late due to a closure on the M4, meaning my journey took five hours (eugh) but luckily arrived while The Christians were still palying.</p><p>It was an odd place to see a gig. It was Mark King's 65th birthday. Someone with a walking stick was dancing at the front. But, it was really very enjoyable. Just nice to see people that have worked together for ages, getting up there and having loads of fun and doing what they love.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwacuHDTORb_kq6oneZT0mspp4E58jbfOeSMOAlKN1tFnc4pqywbi7IO4bUU3cMH8o9S7oYLSyqX4kPv2y3qUe3kYq8E559gmv1yG9Juhdg3wEejFmS4tflTiGnRgaysvsG2rI3Qrlo27xqKtZ7BLXA4ynIG7ZJ1VoRZMCqlJK1ailjRn2p4X88OakZ2yY/s4000/IMG20231020212629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwacuHDTORb_kq6oneZT0mspp4E58jbfOeSMOAlKN1tFnc4pqywbi7IO4bUU3cMH8o9S7oYLSyqX4kPv2y3qUe3kYq8E559gmv1yG9Juhdg3wEejFmS4tflTiGnRgaysvsG2rI3Qrlo27xqKtZ7BLXA4ynIG7ZJ1VoRZMCqlJK1ailjRn2p4X88OakZ2yY/s320/IMG20231020212629.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I'm not really one for taking pictures at things like this, they never look any good, but here's one for the memory.<p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpdQQoc-gkk">I think this was my favourite song of the night.</a> 'Southsea, there's something about you!'</p><p><br /></p><p><b>2. Bikram</b></p><p>There's a studio in Southsea that still runs a Bikram-style hot yoga class so I went on Sunday morning. I was gratified that I didn't feel overheated, though I did have to take a drink partway through and the sequence was a little jumbled from what I remembered. I also realised I was quite physically broken, either from the long term or from, yknow, being middle-aged and fairly sedentary. I ached for three days. </p><p>I really must get back to doing it more regularly.</p><p>On the way home I went into Bread Addiction, clearly one of Portsmouth's best bakeries as there are always people queuing outside. I felt no guilt in buying one each of their danishes, which I ate joyfully over the following 24 hours, still feeling virtuous from the yoga. </p><p><br /></p><p><b>3. Niece/nephew time</b></p><p>On Wednesday, I drove to London to stay with the fam before flying to Stockholm on Thursday. My niece continues to be extremely funny and good company; my nephew continues to grow. We went to the park and played on the swings. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66xTpO0USVaoa_4rzWupOtDzT_J8yX_7vUlX_mJb-avMqR9ggi_rzu0uLSVNiD4DosTIG-pipGpvhtSHoen7U2kVxsuQK0c4iuR3RlXabpnHaonYnLXsN4xgqnNZsk5cFW7HckA8TNtU0YtZfb4HjoxsA_rjMdrc7azCHip9HxdNmUR-RxeDbOqjBHw91/s2000/IMG-20231025-WA0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi66xTpO0USVaoa_4rzWupOtDzT_J8yX_7vUlX_mJb-avMqR9ggi_rzu0uLSVNiD4DosTIG-pipGpvhtSHoen7U2kVxsuQK0c4iuR3RlXabpnHaonYnLXsN4xgqnNZsk5cFW7HckA8TNtU0YtZfb4HjoxsA_rjMdrc7azCHip9HxdNmUR-RxeDbOqjBHw91/s320/IMG-20231025-WA0003.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><b>4. Stockholm</b></p><p>Zoe and I flew to Stockholm for three nights to go to see Madonna in concert. It was cold but what a lovely place! Full of beautiful trees, nice people, cardamom buns, watery places, interesting museums and general relaxation. We went to the hotel spa; I bought some new boots (noteworthy because I have been trying to find boots I like for a year); we went to the Abba museum which included an audition booth experience and a silent disco; we went to the Vasa museum - that is one enormous boat, I would happily go back and stare at it all day, strong Mary Rose vibe; we went to Halloween at a theme park; we ate meatballs and fish sandwiches and slept in and walked around. A very enjoyable break.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXeyNawgU6mJUGz61u2WV-TLDv6mvCPJr2zcs3tjYZPb6wuEcvWVXrIv7gBchZXiaT-ec5TzKXlAPySeoexM-JIXlmFribpY0mQU29xpDM1iigpcytq2fwH3Z5WjmEEjm-FRpPAoz_9ujzFO1ZD48IgfEyQcgmKEQL6YzTqt9NsihPlstmWSE8UgUIYS_p/s4000/IMG20231027164048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXeyNawgU6mJUGz61u2WV-TLDv6mvCPJr2zcs3tjYZPb6wuEcvWVXrIv7gBchZXiaT-ec5TzKXlAPySeoexM-JIXlmFribpY0mQU29xpDM1iigpcytq2fwH3Z5WjmEEjm-FRpPAoz_9ujzFO1ZD48IgfEyQcgmKEQL6YzTqt9NsihPlstmWSE8UgUIYS_p/s320/IMG20231027164048.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXuTX_hm8qC4ibTJ37zCWBMA17s6mmQ6c6f6UAMV6jwxNCGnEYqdNQdHVFyc9xfgpayPImIkapwcxHeuUsfjyrAtjJnw7AarRuqOL9DasQi8WmdAckAyxJ43xsi1QVem7cBKJUD6AQpQ4monZRZBwoHDrpwkfrs81OR2DkV7ejoYZLlVtBoHuSq9m9xTse/s4608/IMG20231027172448.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXuTX_hm8qC4ibTJ37zCWBMA17s6mmQ6c6f6UAMV6jwxNCGnEYqdNQdHVFyc9xfgpayPImIkapwcxHeuUsfjyrAtjJnw7AarRuqOL9DasQi8WmdAckAyxJ43xsi1QVem7cBKJUD6AQpQ4monZRZBwoHDrpwkfrs81OR2DkV7ejoYZLlVtBoHuSq9m9xTse/s320/IMG20231027172448.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgov1lDtG0x0oSFKLa4F7QAwfDhWlPses9y1lxiuZuERmkz1REmldtfLeKtymlZN6Qi_DOn8YzutwEWZ_65Qzr7lhM1GsRzOSkb7jcvKuTjIrtbgDeYkhaB1fIG6ZL7Q2UkUJj-yJG2o9lRFAL89EHJzAusa2G-FUn5QeSu7P-j88UlfVoK9nR1yV1fS4PX/s1024/IMG-20231027-WA0009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgov1lDtG0x0oSFKLa4F7QAwfDhWlPses9y1lxiuZuERmkz1REmldtfLeKtymlZN6Qi_DOn8YzutwEWZ_65Qzr7lhM1GsRzOSkb7jcvKuTjIrtbgDeYkhaB1fIG6ZL7Q2UkUJj-yJG2o9lRFAL89EHJzAusa2G-FUn5QeSu7P-j88UlfVoK9nR1yV1fS4PX/w352-h264/IMG-20231027-WA0009.jpg" width="352" /></a></div><br /><p><b>5. Madonna concert</b></p><p>Obvs Madge had to have her own spot. The second 65-year-old artist I saw in concert in half term. Just, wow. I hope I am that energetic and fabulous when I reach the age of the free bus pass. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YTEZxiZkafbYEwnMPk5rmwHfxPabJud6nUyo1mCsKlLPWyGtAYrvf9wUpA6jAE67JfoowlgQ-Yu2mvagi3aGNKSikrfM7Nvj5Lri-II-Tk4WASu-M_eaUGlpfOEr43nsD945-byMOyCVRjgJI4dLfdAgSmvpRdfjx1tYH-LYXZTspOA66ddDAEWaCp3V/s4000/IMG20231028224958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3008" data-original-width="4000" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YTEZxiZkafbYEwnMPk5rmwHfxPabJud6nUyo1mCsKlLPWyGtAYrvf9wUpA6jAE67JfoowlgQ-Yu2mvagi3aGNKSikrfM7Nvj5Lri-II-Tk4WASu-M_eaUGlpfOEr43nsD945-byMOyCVRjgJI4dLfdAgSmvpRdfjx1tYH-LYXZTspOA66ddDAEWaCp3V/s320/IMG20231028224958.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>The theme was her life, so there were lots of dancers dressed as Madonna from bygone eras that she performed with. I liked the bit where a dancer was pretending to be Madonna pretending to masturbate on a bed, as a throwback to the Blonde Ambition tour, but then Madonna went over to sit on the bed and the two of them spooned. A nice touch. </p><p>My first stadium gig! A good one to choose. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-20194873204475624602023-09-08T22:30:00.000+01:002023-09-08T22:30:15.891+01:00Fave Friday<p>It is unseasonably hot. On Wednesday I wore the dress I wear when it is the hottest day - what a mistake that was. Yesterday I was akin to a swamp (and never been happier to have a quarry swim ticket for the evening, it was bliss). Today I had a lesson in a room with aircon and it was a definite high point. </p><p>Naturally, now term has started everything else has stopped but I have been reflecting on times in my life I've been hotter than now so...</p><p><u>Five blazing hot moments</u></p><p>1. Death Valley. Probably the hottest place I've ever been, but reassuringly dry so it didn't feel too awful.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiilwmminbTNoCN7ideyRvZ_lkaTQ1Fioqs-Z6m7c_xWmyrHRvln129V5Kse7FlICkz7XbJC2bD7g9A3tZ__2-wXN7dq8MYURoNROv8_Cngx4jxzSyJY_NuQ7hh7FwPVByZpKA0tvFQVcgT838kpV09iTCyLBfTS4PxL1UQLuxvM-A0P_fqbUhotLQ706Bw/s3872/DSC_0300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3872" data-original-width="2592" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiilwmminbTNoCN7ideyRvZ_lkaTQ1Fioqs-Z6m7c_xWmyrHRvln129V5Kse7FlICkz7XbJC2bD7g9A3tZ__2-wXN7dq8MYURoNROv8_Cngx4jxzSyJY_NuQ7hh7FwPVByZpKA0tvFQVcgT838kpV09iTCyLBfTS4PxL1UQLuxvM-A0P_fqbUhotLQ706Bw/s320/DSC_0300.JPG" width="214" /></a></div><br /></div><div>Probably already sunburned, just in the time it took to take the picture. </div><p>2. Camping somewhere in Nevada. It was some kind of resort ghost town. I paid money to call and reserve a spot while we were on the road - ultimately, it was only us and one RV. Those campers knew something we didn't. It remains the only time we haven't put the flysheet over the tent and, when the sun rose and hit the tent netting at 6am, we were up and out. Never again. </p><p>3. Hanoi. Everywhere in Vietnam was hot but this was next level. The sort of raging heat from the desert but backed up with humidity: sort of like leaning over a boiling pan but everywhere, all the time. We thought it was cute that everyone in Hanoi seemed to get up at 6am to work out in the park together, until we realised that was really the only comfortable time to be outside. I quickly made my peace with constant, running sweat. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7heokiUKZEZGl8vMwAXeYk6tCKVq6FO-aD9Q8SpoDNFzBz5buLSIzYymZxhWyfuywhy8QJ8o_dAGP0CU34JfNgMb84VQXTkmEYuTF2ZNNlSp_QtoZ-ND_2lYM4VwkacOqFBARZi5p3aabsZlzLI00ni3pUj7v0nmfSIDc17CCsN-R5AwFh_gfxo568z7l/s5248/IMG_20160802_163046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5248" data-original-width="3936" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7heokiUKZEZGl8vMwAXeYk6tCKVq6FO-aD9Q8SpoDNFzBz5buLSIzYymZxhWyfuywhy8QJ8o_dAGP0CU34JfNgMb84VQXTkmEYuTF2ZNNlSp_QtoZ-ND_2lYM4VwkacOqFBARZi5p3aabsZlzLI00ni3pUj7v0nmfSIDc17CCsN-R5AwFh_gfxo568z7l/s320/IMG_20160802_163046.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No picture can do it justice but I never wore these clothes for anything other than the gym; it was too hot for basically everything I took to wear, except the swimwear.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bonus weird picture I found from my GoPro while I was looking through these holiday pictures. What a weirdo.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqjLAA3ER8NX7rV5AAbf3xRafVp6U3KUwlKWvypDiMqYX7eLHq3ospCdqFchHj_y4HFNmevIgSOxAWdunneX2R101M2tAQgetR3nA4tM2arrTL-Q-c4NlSfyJQoDi-Z48o11ElMGc_9YCCfPenrfU8gIOcO-hCY6r69ioPiifRdVscBrdzVTu0etZN47eR/s2592/GOPR0702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2592" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqjLAA3ER8NX7rV5AAbf3xRafVp6U3KUwlKWvypDiMqYX7eLHq3ospCdqFchHj_y4HFNmevIgSOxAWdunneX2R101M2tAQgetR3nA4tM2arrTL-Q-c4NlSfyJQoDi-Z48o11ElMGc_9YCCfPenrfU8gIOcO-hCY6r69ioPiifRdVscBrdzVTu0etZN47eR/s320/GOPR0702.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">4. Malaysia. This was my first near-equator experience and, again, the humidity was almost unbearable. On the second school trip I took there, the staff were lodged in student flats, rather than the palatial, air-conditioned bungalow of the initial visit; it was a 5-minute walk from the main school and I required a shower before and after every one of those walks. Tough when it's a work thing and you have to look work-presentable. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">5. Corfu. This is a gappy memory for me; we went in the summer of my 10th birthday. Loving the water then as much as I do now, I spent the whole first day in the sea. I even went back in the sea after dinner. I didn't get sun burn, but I did get heatstroke. The only thing I remember about it, other than being very sick, was coming out of sleep with Mother Hand staring desperately into my face, shaking me and shouting, 'What is it? What is it?' in my face. Evidently I had been asleep with my eyes open and calling for her. This sounds terrifying even as a non-parent. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Most of the ensuing holiday pictures from the trip feature me with a Corfu cap on. Mother Hand got bitten by a snake and we both got horribly travel sick during a trip to the mainland. I tried water-skiing and failed spectacularly to stand up. But other than that it was a fun trip. </div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-15738433216115396122023-09-01T11:46:00.002+01:002023-09-02T22:34:27.412+01:00Fave Friday<p><u>Five favourite back-to-school memories</u></p><p>In honour of the new term...</p><p>1. Buying the new school bag. Nanny Hand took me round many shops looking for the perfect item, some time towards the end of August, before I went into (I think) Year 9. I have a dim memory of some kind of half-covered precinct that was probably near where they lived in Redditch, and being my usual unbelievably picky teen self. In the end I picked some hideous canvas shoulder bag that was beige and had camels or some kind of Aztec print on it. Heavy 90s vibe. Mother Hand was suitably disappointed that I got something that was (a) so easily dirtied and (b) relatively impractical for carrying large amounts of school-related items with me. </p><p>2. The smell of WHSmith. It is common for everybody to bang on about the stench of a Lush shop but I think all shops have their own scent and WHSmith is a particularly evocative one for me. What is it? Books, pens, cards, magazines. The smell of choosing a new pencil case, and wheedling for wholly impractical rubbers shaped like ice cream cones and wholly unnecessary highlighter pens. Towers of colourful lever arch files that I never needed because there were always second-hand ones available from Mother Hand's work and, anyway, who needs more than one lever arch folder when you're at school. Doing pocket money maths so you could sneak a CD single in and still afford everything you needed. </p><p>3. On my first day of my first teaching job, I went to the toilets and put my heavily-loaded handbag on top of the cistern. As I turned away from it, it promptly upended directly into the toilet. The main casualties were my camera (I don't know why I felt this was an essential item for an inset day) which happily survived, and a whole tube of new gold and black striped pencils. I still have one of those pencils (naturally I washed it off) to remind me of this humbling experience. My main takeaway, on that nervous day, was that it couldn't get much worse. I was right. </p><p>4. More bags (so many bags) - I fondly remember the time when I got the school bag right by buying a denim backpack from River Island. It was the best bag ever. It was a drawstring, flap over backpack but it had a full length zip down the side so you didn't have to faff. In my memory, it saw me all the way through sixth form, being toted around on one shoulder while I carried my lever arch file ostentatiously, on account of how I was so learned now, all my learning couldn't even fit in a bag. </p><p>5. The weighing and measuring. A funny favourite memory this but it sticks with me and serves as a constant reminder that throwaway comments are not throwaway comments to teenagers. At the start of every new year, everyone in the class was weighed and measured in the first PE lesson. I cannot fathom what the school did with this information and, come to reflect on it, I wonder if they just did it for something to do in the first lesson of the year. Anyway, as a fat teenager this was mortifying for me and I had a horror about anybody seeing how much I weighed. The one I remember the most was going forward to the scale and (what has formed in my mind but is undoubtedly an exaggeration of the actual event) the entire popular clique craning forwards as I gingerly hovered, unwilling to step on. </p><p>'Don't worry Sally,' chirped my ever-cheerful games teacher, 'the scales are probably wrong.'</p><p><br /></p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-67952447262884245922023-06-23T22:37:00.001+01:002023-06-24T22:47:44.813+01:00Fave Friday<p><b>Five favourite things about June</b></p><p>June is a funny month in my profession. On the one hand, the pressure at school has abated; the exam classes are gone so the timetable is lighter; planning can start for next year. On the other hand, as an examiner it's always rammed with too many tasks and not enough time to really enjoy the long days and the nice weather. I think that, if I ever retire from all of my jobs, June will be the month that feels most different - rivalled maybe by September, I guess. </p><p>Here we are, almost to June payday and I feel I haven't appreciated it at all. It hasn't helped that it has been hot for almost the entire month (UK hot is like UK cold - it's not comparable with the temperatures experienced in other parts of the world but, like the cold is that special damp kind that gets in your bones, the heat is an oppressive, sticky blanket that isn't particularly enjoyable in long bursts...for me, anyway). </p><p>So here's some appreciation.</p><p>1. <b>The light.</b> I fully admit to being one of the people that likes it when the clocks change in October and it's darker in the evenings but that's mostly down to just liking a change, I think. The longer daylight hours give me so much energy; I sleep less but I don't really notice it. </p><p>2. <b>The green.</b> Nature is in full swing in June: it's past that slightly fetid new bloom phase of May and not yet onto that slightly scorched later summer look. The leaves look at their best to me in June. I wish we had no-mow June. There's a man who walks his Husky up the 'wood every morning around the time I drive to work: that husky flipping loved no-mow May. It was having a whale of a time bouncing around the small patch of grass near the bus stop, as though it was making world-changing discoveries with every sniff. When I saw it yesterday it looked considerably more subdued.</p><p>3. <b>The anticipation.</b> The school year is coming to a close. The tests are done, the data is in. The holidays are on the horizon. </p><p>4. <b>The barbecues. </b>Even if you're not having one yourself, someone else will be, so you get to enjoy the smell without having to risk food poisoning or sit near a blazing heat source in person.</p><p>5. <b>The petrichor.</b> I suppose this happens year round, but rain on hot ground smells better in June than any other month, imo. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-17206906661638461442023-06-16T22:03:00.006+01:002023-09-02T22:34:16.316+01:00Fave Friday<p><b>Five Favourite Lines from Ithaca by Claire North</b></p><p>It has been a pleasure previously remarked upon to get back into fiction reading over the past few years and I am now into the habit of picking up books from the library and, in the case of this one, actually reading it before it is due back (as a kid I used to take out 6 books and read them all before they were due back...woe is me). This has broadened the variety of books I'm reading and reminded me of the pleasure of picking up a book because of what's written on the back cover, rather than just because someone recommended it on Twitter/it's historical fiction/it's 99p on Kindle. </p><p>Most recently, I finished Ithaca by Claire North. It's an imagining of what Penelope might have done with herself while she was waiting for Odysseus to return from Troy, as the suitors ate her out of house and home. I have enjoyed a few of these Greek-myths-from-women's-perspectives over the past couple of years but this one was particularly good, mainly because of the cracking bits of prose that create a very believable representation of how women operate within tightly-bounded gender roles - namely, that they largely get on and run things and nobody really notices. There's some quite interesting undertone of DV and coercive control that undercuts the humour and shifts the perspective of quite a lot of bits of Greek mythology. To top it off, the book is narrated by Hera, so you sort of know what you're getting from the start. </p><p>Here are my favourites:</p><p>1. <i>...who feels the ageing process accelerating with every moment he spends in the chamber</i> (this is sometimes a solid mood of mine in the classroom)</p><p>2. <i>Penelope says, 'Help me, I grow faint.' Autonoe at once kneels by Penelope's side, holding her left hand in hers, and though this is a profoundly pious scene of feminine weakness, it is also now a huddle of curved back and womanly distress that hides what Eos does next from all onlookers.</i></p><p>3. <i>'Ah,' mutters Penelope. 'I see. Medon, forgive me. I find myself overcome with womanly weakness and must retire.' </i></p><p>4. <i>'We shall now run away and hide in a ditch.'...Donning his tatty, faded grey cloak, he nods once and, with the dignity of the centaur, proudly runs away.'</i></p><p>5. <i>'How do you hide an army? What a foolish question. You hide them in precisely the same way you hide your success as a merchant, your skill with agriculture, your wisdom at politic and your innate cunning wit. You hide them as women.'</i></p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-10890709815813914702023-06-09T23:17:00.002+01:002023-06-09T23:17:20.240+01:00Fave Friday<p><b>Five Favourite Salads</b></p><p>It's definitely salad weather. I've realised that the way I consume recipes has changed over the past couple of years so a lot of them are now screenshotted from Instagram and also from Mob Kitchen, because I follow their Insta and they have successfully sucked me in. So this list looks a bit weird but here we go.</p><p>1. <a href="https://www.mob.co.uk/recipes/mobs-mexican-chicken-salad">Mexican Chicken salad</a></p><p>From Mob Kitchen. I make this with less cucumber, less peppers, more coriander. Mr Z cooked up the chicken and placed it on top for dinner tonight which was also delicious. </p><p>2. <a href="https://www.mob.co.uk/recipes/watermelon-and-feta-salad-with-crispy-shallots">Watermelon Feta salad</a></p><p>Also from Mob Kitchen - I told you, suckered right in - though I did see this doing the rounds last summer in a couple of other places. I've only made this once as Mr Z does not approve much of fruity salads; I also did not have any basil or enough tomatoes but it worked OK. The crispy onions go very well with the watermelon. Can recommend. </p><p>3. Asian cabbagey salad thing</p><p>...to give it its proper name. I don't follow That Vegan Babe but her recipe came up in my feed anyway and the dressing is banging. I have made this with a variety of grains, as I worked through the seemingly neverending stash in the cupboard last year; I think I liked bulgur wheat the best. You'll have to guess the method, sorry, but it's not particularly complex. Or I guess you could just go and look the reel up.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOWfzN53H6lIUgNkU5wz4qtPWxHbIF5k1Si6C-wtKz-XBO393vy04PbP1hCa0eO3N2k7VkX6l8FT4kEltyFZrH6qQ43G_QMr1Ac7D3n3rOgZx4SSrU0UJdbxZPblxzefCIfBSILl_yOqZsqmuQZrgLqWRQDXwaZ9eU-X5OZlm9VQmL0vIqS0BYdftuOg/s1989/saladrecipe1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1989" data-original-width="1073" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOWfzN53H6lIUgNkU5wz4qtPWxHbIF5k1Si6C-wtKz-XBO393vy04PbP1hCa0eO3N2k7VkX6l8FT4kEltyFZrH6qQ43G_QMr1Ac7D3n3rOgZx4SSrU0UJdbxZPblxzefCIfBSILl_yOqZsqmuQZrgLqWRQDXwaZ9eU-X5OZlm9VQmL0vIqS0BYdftuOg/s320/saladrecipe1.jpg" width="173" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>4. Greek salad</p><p>Very simple - cucumbers, tomatoes, thinly sliced red onion, black olives, oregano, a bit of olive oil and some feta. I've been going to the good cheese shop on North Street when we have knitting group in that part of town and their feta is superb; one block will usually do us three salads, which we eat with lamb chops because we can't have meals without meat in. By we I don't mean me. </p><p>5. Mediterranean Feel Good Salad</p><p>Aka salad from a jar. I follow <a href="https://shredhappens.net/">Shred Happens</a> on the gram and he has many good salad recipes, although being partial to a carb, I tend to ignore the cauliflower rice and other carb substitutes in favour of that neverending stash of grains....though that has actually run out now so I should maybe think about doing a restock of my faves. If memory serves, I made this with amaranth (I went through a whole Gillian McKeith phase back in the day; grains ancient in both genetics and shelflife) - it was good flavours but needed a better grain. </p><p>The salad is grain (or processed cauliflower, you do you), diced cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, lots of fresh parsley and some chives, a jar of grilled artichoke hearts chopped up and some jarred green olives. Then the dressing is the juice of two lemons, a third of a cup of olive oil (the tomatoes are quite oily already so less is probably more), 3 cloves of garlic, some fresh basil, a third of a cup of sun dried tomatoes and the same amount of walnuts, blitzed in a food processor. </p><p><br /></p><p>So that's five and I didn't even get to my favourite potato salad from my childhood, Salad Oliviyeh. I will have to save that for another post. </p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-82891257141894026842023-06-02T21:09:00.001+01:002023-06-02T21:09:11.244+01:00Fave Friday<p><b>Five swims from May</b></p><p><b>1. Turkish Baths, Harrogate</b></p><p>I was in Harrogate for a conference this month and extended my stay by a night so I could visit the baths and do some other northern things on the Sunday. The Turkish bath was not so much a swim spot as a series of increasingly warm rooms, a steam room that was so hot I couldn't manage more than a minute or two, a welcome cold plunge pool and a warm room for resting in. I love a spa. I wish there was a place like this locally.</p><p>Pictures not allowed of course. I found this one online. Probably. Look how gorgeous! Definitely go and visit if you're in the area. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxRcssgG0xMkRoBdqdL73BI2KLoPUgjRz2FOmDVXDKmrEfFb04OD3XpuoYHHmSJ1YD8-8SNr9Gkr9deJEJ2hmSjOPrxQZoS-t36CO284BCgLoURJbGXd24pIhBAw_3RfMvFiBdXL5lX0rpP8GN6ExrPXEv-9yJYWSUlJLqTI6ylqjHkhnf5KDNcgzGHA/s4000/IMG20230513190913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3008" data-original-width="4000" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxRcssgG0xMkRoBdqdL73BI2KLoPUgjRz2FOmDVXDKmrEfFb04OD3XpuoYHHmSJ1YD8-8SNr9Gkr9deJEJ2hmSjOPrxQZoS-t36CO284BCgLoURJbGXd24pIhBAw_3RfMvFiBdXL5lX0rpP8GN6ExrPXEv-9yJYWSUlJLqTI6ylqjHkhnf5KDNcgzGHA/s320/IMG20230513190913.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><b>2. Janet's Foss</b></p><p>This was one of the northern things on my list to do from Harrogate (the other being Hardwick Hall) and I executed my plan perfectly. There's something deeply satisfying about pulling off a full sequence of adulting: an early night, an early start, a short walk in the sun, a splash in a fairy pool and back on the road by 11am with an ice cream and a coffee. The women who sharked my parking space were astonished I was leaving so early but I'd arrived before 9am. </p><p>Janet's Foss is a short (20ish minutes) walk from the Malham car park, across flat ground. It is much beloved of a wild swimming Facebook group I joined a couple of years ago and I couldn't pass up the opportunity upon realising it was only an hour's drive from Harrogate. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiACtvq7rJ8DKjY4i_Wmo4hdtNC9zoioW9adbxkU9KUmogm7CUEPMR44Yph1NKx1pjd1ITRBaO8sVFLx0-cYWcoqFjcIp2iqUF4TeOEH1luyUuM7aZuG4XXeoIHIb4aIWwdxVU6xkHn8qYomp7aybZDiT7oYfkgjabUAkVZYGIBFt87mVBCRIOkJ_YOBQ/s4000/IMG20230514102117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiACtvq7rJ8DKjY4i_Wmo4hdtNC9zoioW9adbxkU9KUmogm7CUEPMR44Yph1NKx1pjd1ITRBaO8sVFLx0-cYWcoqFjcIp2iqUF4TeOEH1luyUuM7aZuG4XXeoIHIb4aIWwdxVU6xkHn8qYomp7aybZDiT7oYfkgjabUAkVZYGIBFt87mVBCRIOkJ_YOBQ/s320/IMG20230514102117.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><p>It looks like I had it to myself; when I arrived there were only a few hikers around and I was quite nervous about getting in, but then a family arrived and were most encouraging, followed by a dozen women who began changing, so I got in quick so I could have it to myself. Cold, but magical. Sadly no sign of the fairy queen.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwj_euB_-YXUaajGvc0rmLHcdQXG4knN2_tfc_IXHPN8RXoMUdP_4B4-jwkHdEjqk5PX9U5s8mBj2T6n__l2cqM374qBKCFePaoUf7ayxG_dMQRVwltvAUQ4PtD7WNe6863v1jWYH1vo_jxH1w7epc-UJu3vnpgRXSfaIYCmNqSEUbT24xVGKMFNjwuA/s1389/Screenshot_2023-05-14-20-28-51-22_e5d3893ac03954c6bb675ef2555b879b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1389" data-original-width="1073" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwj_euB_-YXUaajGvc0rmLHcdQXG4knN2_tfc_IXHPN8RXoMUdP_4B4-jwkHdEjqk5PX9U5s8mBj2T6n__l2cqM374qBKCFePaoUf7ayxG_dMQRVwltvAUQ4PtD7WNe6863v1jWYH1vo_jxH1w7epc-UJu3vnpgRXSfaIYCmNqSEUbT24xVGKMFNjwuA/s320/Screenshot_2023-05-14-20-28-51-22_e5d3893ac03954c6bb675ef2555b879b.jpg" width="247" /></a></div><br /><p>Swimsuit by <a href="https://www.batoko.com/" target="_blank">Batoko</a>. I couldn't decide on a design and then they released the otters and it was a done deal.</p><p><b>3. Bristol Harbour</b></p><p>There's no legal swimming in Bristol harbour and, let's face it, it's not the cleanest place you'll ever go, but when I heard there was a swim pilot I booked myself in. It was an epic place for a dip and, as soon as I got out, I booked in for the following Saturday. The water was very clear, if a little brown. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcS3ctRjOV4GNbblc3bb3MziPhtkvCyB3AuX9Rq1IRroHBh6wexJuIaHnytvQcTzctbUpW_1IKjymEoOyGa8UhR7jC9YfSc593PPliylM5LSbTxKrlPZsa6r9_Xq5Atge0-QDax6al8cDGd_TQo9unlDBa1uv4Io1mOPTEsGOq-d7_tWVv03AbkkSq6g/s4000/IMG20230527083054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3008" data-original-width="4000" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcS3ctRjOV4GNbblc3bb3MziPhtkvCyB3AuX9Rq1IRroHBh6wexJuIaHnytvQcTzctbUpW_1IKjymEoOyGa8UhR7jC9YfSc593PPliylM5LSbTxKrlPZsa6r9_Xq5Atge0-QDax6al8cDGd_TQo9unlDBa1uv4Io1mOPTEsGOq-d7_tWVv03AbkkSq6g/s320/IMG20230527083054.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><b>4. </b><b>Cromhall Quarry</b></p><p>There were four Cromhall swims in May, bringing my total to six for the year so far. I feel a bit guilty only listing this as one favourite swim for this month as it is always a nice spot, but it was a crowded swim month. The last of the month was sunny and, while the water isn't quite yet something I'd leap into without fear of a heart attack, it was quite pleasant in just a swimsuit, particularly with the good company of my friend Rachael and with a hearty breakfast afterwards.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEWoV5vbX_YAmY6r0E4wCcXWjBaHImieZXjyIpZ5NP6qZ8-ZOf1wYp8eR9SBHyOBLzAmISwUC-4VW1_EJfBxjZM_KQ2qDWKv0l9K6_btzyG5SkHKOv4YMXSlP2QwvJhCpqho08cAphnfsKTX4MJ78UBegoYS0xedfVR5CZZNkD2dyegMrH1edbMb9cFQ/s4000/IMG20230528085642.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3008" data-original-width="4000" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEWoV5vbX_YAmY6r0E4wCcXWjBaHImieZXjyIpZ5NP6qZ8-ZOf1wYp8eR9SBHyOBLzAmISwUC-4VW1_EJfBxjZM_KQ2qDWKv0l9K6_btzyG5SkHKOv4YMXSlP2QwvJhCpqho08cAphnfsKTX4MJ78UBegoYS0xedfVR5CZZNkD2dyegMrH1edbMb9cFQ/s320/IMG20230528085642.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><b>5. River Avon</b></p><p>Busted - this wasn't a swim. It was more of a wade, followed by a long paddle. This was my first trip out in the kayak of 2023. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixMveBH6SlvX_0IEGe_s1ZpJzTz0A0qjbIUB15e-kgvTVA-0Q50MxzjgJ5cS5Q-ht_Gr96xT8DtyiM2pAgZAvH5_AcPU5HL5CCJlBrnP20fPFUjH0ySF-YZHOOEfCjb4muoOBtvF4sBpB65gWbeFkjqj4Q82yQJ3dR8TrV4h4nZssJPLrycDtz1QOU1A/s4000/IMG20230530120428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixMveBH6SlvX_0IEGe_s1ZpJzTz0A0qjbIUB15e-kgvTVA-0Q50MxzjgJ5cS5Q-ht_Gr96xT8DtyiM2pAgZAvH5_AcPU5HL5CCJlBrnP20fPFUjH0ySF-YZHOOEfCjb4muoOBtvF4sBpB65gWbeFkjqj4Q82yQJ3dR8TrV4h4nZssJPLrycDtz1QOU1A/s320/IMG20230530120428.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKFCEJWjxVRg61J04qVWXq-W6ghEdpYnHtU-gXo7v1pdmwOBtwm8npH-t4tWH2frfTGXo6EMp2V-G5LTAIV0grWfsGrVtxjcxcHSK8Qgy4vN-TZ4BULjuRmoY7ULAH2cMFvqdgRJxb23Kuygl1UqphbV-v_4-G72qFpjIajy6ilAZ7cq5WtUZolCWUWg/s4608/IMG20230530122808.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKFCEJWjxVRg61J04qVWXq-W6ghEdpYnHtU-gXo7v1pdmwOBtwm8npH-t4tWH2frfTGXo6EMp2V-G5LTAIV0grWfsGrVtxjcxcHSK8Qgy4vN-TZ4BULjuRmoY7ULAH2cMFvqdgRJxb23Kuygl1UqphbV-v_4-G72qFpjIajy6ilAZ7cq5WtUZolCWUWg/s320/IMG20230530122808.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Definitely not the last!</p><p><b><br /></b></p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-68592673497926536072023-05-30T09:21:00.000+01:002023-05-30T09:21:33.022+01:00Ski Trip Number 13<p>In April, I got to take the school ski trip away for the first time since 2020. I'd picked my favourite resort in Italy again, for the first one back in a while. It was wildly popular, selling out in just 24 hours, so that I had to extend the places to 50, making it my biggest trip ever. I had an eye to the fact this was trip number 13 but decided we would call it trip number 14, as there was the aborted 2021 trip that I had to sell to parents because I'd already put my name to a booking form, even though it was cancelled and all the money was repaid on insurance. Trip number 13 was cancelled, I decided. There will be nothing unlucky about trip number 14. </p><p>(I should say that I am not really superstitious about numbers but Mr Z is, which has its effects on a person).</p><p>It was not good to wake up on the day of the trip to Radio 4 announcing that there were severe delays at the Port of Dover. Late morning, the tour company rang me to let me know that we would have a delayed start, so I went to school and sat in a cafe, making a WhatsApp group for all the parents on the swanky new trip phone. </p><p>We set off two hours late and got to the port in good time. It seemed deserted, but as the driver pulled round, the attendants asked him if they'd contacted him to come down. No, he said. They told us to leave and he asked where to go. 'Anywhere but here,' said the man, gloomily. So we headed back up the motorway. By this point it was 9pm. The students were asking if we were still getting the 9.10 ferry. They weren't far off...</p><p>At Folkestone services, there were more attendants in high vis, who tried to turn us away. 'We've got 65 coaches in here already, you can't come in.' The coach driver managed to convince them that we had to come in as we were meeting our onward drivers there, so they grudgingly gave us a space on the petrol station forecourt. There were toilets and a shop nearby, and it was brightly lit, which was a relief. However, this is not the place I would have chosen to spend the next 9 hours with 50 teen girls. It was the world's worst sleepover of all time. Endless talking and up-and-downing and general kerfuffle persisted through the night until everyone was on their last nerve. In the end I went and stood in the aisle for the last half hour before dawn, eyeballing the back row who just would not stop talking. 'She's just standing there watching us,' one of them whispered. 'Yes, because you won't shut up,' I hissed back. </p><p>Worst night of my life, I reckon. I spent some time thinking about whether there have been worse, but that wins. </p><p>Finally, at 6.30am, our onward drivers started up the coach to bring us down to Dover. I felt positive. But then we spent the next 13 hours queueing in Port of Dover. Port of Dover's facilities before check in amount to half a dozen ladies toilet stalls and a Costa concession. There were around 60 coaches queuing at any one time and I can categorically state - this was not enough. The toilet queue never got below 45 minutes long, though the men's toilets were, to borrow a phrase, free flowing. In the end, half the staff walked back into Dover and bought Morrison's entire sandwich cabinet back so we at least had something to eat. The students were happy, tbf. They had power for their phones. They had each other. They had 59 other coaches of teenagers to flirt with. The BBC were filming from the cliff so they got on the news, much to the delight of the parents ('Is that you quietly sobbing by the coach Mrs Z?' one of them joked after sending a picture of the TV through on the WhatsApp group). No, that was me screeching 'SAFEGUARDING' at the cliff when I didn't know who was filming. </p><p>The parents mounted a letter-writing campaign to Suella Braverman and our local MP. </p><p>The students mounted a campaign to get every car and truck that flew past the coach queue to beep at them. </p><p>I paced. </p><p>Finally, at 7pm, we made it to the front of the queue. I should say that it's not really clear whose fault this is. It's natural to want to blame the French but, to be fair to them, I'm not sure what else they could have done. There is one building with three kiosks in it for checking coach passports, and it was fully staffed. Now, they could have laid on extra staff and had them come onto coaches to do the checking, but this is impractical now that all passports have to be stamped. The rumour is they asked the British government to expand the coach facilities, a request that was refused. So...nobody really to blame then, except obviously Brexit. </p><p>By the time we made it to the other side, we were booked on the 9.30 ferry. Only 24 hours and 20 minutes late. This necessitated a stay in France, at a hotel where the poor hotelier had gone for some shut eye after being assured by our tour operator that we would not arrive before 2am, though the drivers had told them 1am. We got there at 1am. We spent 15 minutes trying to wake her up before Dave Coaches beeped the mega horn and succeeded in task. It seems she had had to do the same for a coach party the night before, who had arrived at 3am, and she'd turned the entire allocation of 60 beds around overnight. </p><p>There was a hotel cat, which I appreciated. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VKB3TLeEeXN-0uK_XMw_h5zNEFHI41msZdTJ1r_PmnnMI5EgU28CqD5HruaUIzOLJRmDFvlHi2hmbomlGaa8uL5j_yyVu_8heexRVzg2bJPFg5so9HhBF1bOOCyKALCfbFMI-3sQddElaTU8aJV4dzqVEY-D-kCdXtCFk7Qg903BusW5wj5yb1EoWA/s4000/IMG20230403015531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VKB3TLeEeXN-0uK_XMw_h5zNEFHI41msZdTJ1r_PmnnMI5EgU28CqD5HruaUIzOLJRmDFvlHi2hmbomlGaa8uL5j_yyVu_8heexRVzg2bJPFg5so9HhBF1bOOCyKALCfbFMI-3sQddElaTU8aJV4dzqVEY-D-kCdXtCFk7Qg903BusW5wj5yb1EoWA/s320/IMG20230403015531.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><p>We left at 11am on Monday morning, finally limping into our Italian resort at gone midnight that night. 58 hours of travelling. A day's skiing lost. But worth it. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4SPJEyHSCdYvWFFOVORNnmvULjqbNPN4KQaWaUasFskRoWpgG7l3P9BQso-12UciFEwAX9ijmvl5-ooXatTPmwVdhdmJGHy-TVdU7euh6uF2XKdWX--5ypHVoWdtF6g2jHSH8ZXFjedbFwJhhpffik8oDIGa4_TcXvnAcAwYtCGukQ_qDOaseUt7jg/s4608/IMG20230404141541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip4SPJEyHSCdYvWFFOVORNnmvULjqbNPN4KQaWaUasFskRoWpgG7l3P9BQso-12UciFEwAX9ijmvl5-ooXatTPmwVdhdmJGHy-TVdU7euh6uF2XKdWX--5ypHVoWdtF6g2jHSH8ZXFjedbFwJhhpffik8oDIGa4_TcXvnAcAwYtCGukQ_qDOaseUt7jg/s320/IMG20230404141541.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Luckily, the rest of the trip went off pretty much without a hitch. No major injuries, no lost students (some naughty ones who could have get lost but thankfully didn't), no bad weather. Lovely, helpful coach drivers and a smooth return journey. It seems number 13 used up all its bad vibes on the journey over.</p><p>And what a treat to be back in Sauze for a fifth time. Having skied in France at half term for my last couple of trips, I had forgotten what it was like to go somewhere that was so thoroughly deserted. Easter in Sauze is quiet and there were days when we had it almost to ourselves. I managed to get a repeat of this picture from <a href="http://diario.bunny-land.com/2010/04/tuesday-ten.html">2010</a>.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYpWlsP1eCWA56xlLDen2TK6pJ8oX7OWYOHWGWGR3vm4yARt_OR1P9VDNzpJovYmEklL2dYepaHfBo4lHab69MG6Lx53N2Rv9SLmmdbTK6G6QdcSe8FUTj9-Pc9zegmFuqE4OcsiMESxXa6r_AYTtsxbvDVhXdMZqrZl5lVodgp0ee8SyM1Vd_mWYE3g/s1564/IMG_20230407_230201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1564" data-original-width="1564" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYpWlsP1eCWA56xlLDen2TK6pJ8oX7OWYOHWGWGR3vm4yARt_OR1P9VDNzpJovYmEklL2dYepaHfBo4lHab69MG6Lx53N2Rv9SLmmdbTK6G6QdcSe8FUTj9-Pc9zegmFuqE4OcsiMESxXa6r_AYTtsxbvDVhXdMZqrZl5lVodgp0ee8SyM1Vd_mWYE3g/s320/IMG_20230407_230201.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Chuckling at skiing in sunglasses with my hair down. I'd find both of these things intensely irritating now. But I still prefer a mitten to a glove. </p><p>Here endeth the saga. I don't do story posts like this anymore but I had to tell the full tale, for posterity. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7rlQGMZaeI3jNTzKWEAcd52GbEI_xsTe66v28fVPs4xB9Us3NtqQ0U8uSoneDRyk4hgKeeFlABhNZMgGNdrbsRej97nkcOu4vw_CnC8lzNjrH7bUlG-sZ4CqIhFMirYGE0ZbRrF6viKjluDjtSMVXlwAZFNTF5IbCv7tec_ukTmnlzm21W8l_4djBw/s1600/IMG-20230407-WA0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7rlQGMZaeI3jNTzKWEAcd52GbEI_xsTe66v28fVPs4xB9Us3NtqQ0U8uSoneDRyk4hgKeeFlABhNZMgGNdrbsRej97nkcOu4vw_CnC8lzNjrH7bUlG-sZ4CqIhFMirYGE0ZbRrF6viKjluDjtSMVXlwAZFNTF5IbCv7tec_ukTmnlzm21W8l_4djBw/w416-h312/IMG-20230407-WA0001.jpg" width="416" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-49412930883395185002023-05-28T23:02:00.003+01:002023-05-28T23:02:32.214+01:00Wonderwool 2023<p>Predictably late again. Lots of things have been happening this year and I have had such high hopes for documenting my little trips away and other adventures but, here we are, almost halfway through the year and you know I'm about to enter my busy period, so I guess we will just move on. </p><p>Wonderwool weekend was as lovely as ever. I was much in need of some respite and even considered having a day to myself in the bunkhouse on the Saturday, though in the end I got a very early night and felt recharged enough for a wander, albeit a short one: the Saturday felt even busier than ever before, thanks probably to the quieter crowd last year due to ongoing covid restrictions. </p><p>I also had a slow start to the yarn-buying, spending much of Saturday shopping for purchases for Emma instead. I made up for that on Sunday, though managed to hold off on buying sweater quantities of anything, which was a definite win. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvnlMmWZDBv6Re939ty53yR-6vc1x1iMnhW4P1V3g9BLGotAZzvioACvlv0shr41O4D-85W3OS8Hy_4XTcekrlKER1NVAhy7VNaj_RQHpZ5c-uXVjjHV4U4nmt4kSRuk9htj7BkMzPzgd5TlpcdtLGv9WaBoJ5IpUbViiRGh09ijDQ2_gqPaIQ6h-7g/s4000/IMG20230425190108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3008" data-original-width="4000" height="332" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvnlMmWZDBv6Re939ty53yR-6vc1x1iMnhW4P1V3g9BLGotAZzvioACvlv0shr41O4D-85W3OS8Hy_4XTcekrlKER1NVAhy7VNaj_RQHpZ5c-uXVjjHV4U4nmt4kSRuk9htj7BkMzPzgd5TlpcdtLGv9WaBoJ5IpUbViiRGh09ijDQ2_gqPaIQ6h-7g/w441-h332/IMG20230425190108.jpg" width="441" /></a></div><br /><p>Some lightly padded project bags from <a href="https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/SoftAccentsUK" target="_blank">Soft Accents</a></p><p>A kit to make a child's cardigan - I got the robin kit, but it helpfully came with the pattern for the pudding jumper as well. I was going to make these for the mini Hands for the winter but it seems they will be in Peru so I might direct elsewhere. </p><p>A Latvian mitten kit. I got chatting to the chap on the stall about the British Empire, a weird but predictable conversation in which he asked me if it was really all bad and I had to say we didn't really talk about it in terms of pros/cons when we are teaching it. Honestly, it gets everywhere. Everywhere. </p><p>A skein of DK Merino from Penrhallt Alpacas: this colour winked at me as I walked into the hall on Saturday morning and it was the last thing I bought on my way out. It was just too nice to leave behind.</p><p>A sale grab bag of 5 skeins from fivemoons.</p><p>A skein of DK merino from Lay Family yarns and a matching pom pom, to make a hat for the SIL. </p><p>Three complementary skeins to make some kind of shawl.</p><p>A skein from Mamie and Florrie, who do a wonderful line of sock yarn dyed according to What Three Words pictures - they take their colour inspiration from pictures of the location. This one, the darker green, is Buxton Woods.</p><p>Some rainbow yarn - two teeny skeins for adding a single rainbow stripe to the cuffs of some socks or mittens, and a ball of DK for some mitts. </p><p>And a couple more pom poms. </p><p>I had great fun picking out the three skeins of green brown, which I plan to use to make a shawl inspired by Brecon Forest, which is where we stay for the weekend. I made it out for a quick walk on Sunday morning, when the weather was gorgeous and there wasn't a frost. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheg1j5BWp5UFSukX3uV4oKdIfk0ofWxeW2Jk5CnGioayfLIoockx1yof5H_rvlCKJrK9dtpO6z831uhAluto76t1h8slaS8q3R8FFhXWUUviqrM5-Llwce8PbdkBvK8aTTyZ6C7FFaD5gwHZxKlNQHmdmKZYsuQyMcCqX1sJanawAKdoguOhWlAGx6Vw/s4000/IMG20230423080544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheg1j5BWp5UFSukX3uV4oKdIfk0ofWxeW2Jk5CnGioayfLIoockx1yof5H_rvlCKJrK9dtpO6z831uhAluto76t1h8slaS8q3R8FFhXWUUviqrM5-Llwce8PbdkBvK8aTTyZ6C7FFaD5gwHZxKlNQHmdmKZYsuQyMcCqX1sJanawAKdoguOhWlAGx6Vw/s320/IMG20230423080544.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigp4O5V---4m7ZUiKdQtmRSaJgiZjzZgvaX-sfzNC72f3qu8G0ZFjhgQfRXOmMOSIeLE2TdReNM5zUWrmVoXA9pApUMLxdwVZm10tfxG2CpdrLa7YXNUobjwxPcjg5v8sltJFilHDSTg1iYIayWzhiFevHf_aJOyl0LTTzAy1EcW2TBiHI4pnPzZ_2Gw/s4000/IMG20230425190206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigp4O5V---4m7ZUiKdQtmRSaJgiZjzZgvaX-sfzNC72f3qu8G0ZFjhgQfRXOmMOSIeLE2TdReNM5zUWrmVoXA9pApUMLxdwVZm10tfxG2CpdrLa7YXNUobjwxPcjg5v8sltJFilHDSTg1iYIayWzhiFevHf_aJOyl0LTTzAy1EcW2TBiHI4pnPzZ_2Gw/s320/IMG20230425190206.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br /><p>I haven't picked out a pattern yet but I am really determined to have it done to wear next year. </p><p>Another wonderful weekend with wonderful people. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_BcEjDXAZwrA0J8yoktD97GRCAq0jBjehAmZ6aA5r4dGRr-WA9nAjageQ-MXIi0Dr-K7cqdu50ESCsaHf24eO3Iu2bVftgR_6VweOewcB9NZPGR3l_zaBh9ZaGpLfgEYXN_k9ViFsdVtA1nID7UdhHJlIhKJu2AH72HOuYKlmFAGjEnWNM3VBmEmHQ/s4000/IMG20230422181638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3008" data-original-width="4000" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_BcEjDXAZwrA0J8yoktD97GRCAq0jBjehAmZ6aA5r4dGRr-WA9nAjageQ-MXIi0Dr-K7cqdu50ESCsaHf24eO3Iu2bVftgR_6VweOewcB9NZPGR3l_zaBh9ZaGpLfgEYXN_k9ViFsdVtA1nID7UdhHJlIhKJu2AH72HOuYKlmFAGjEnWNM3VBmEmHQ/w381-h287/IMG20230422181638.jpg" width="381" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-8528115090232243852023-01-02T17:05:00.002+00:002023-01-02T17:05:14.299+00:002022 Round up: Places<p>After two years of having to think every trip through carefully, attending untold numbers of events online instead of in person and cooling my heels on holidays in Britain (I would call this a staycation but I don't want to excite any pedants so will not), 2022 was the year I finally felt like there could be time around and about the place. And, true to form, I managed to get away somewhere at least overnight in every month of the year. I visited all four parts of the United Kingdom. I camped in a new palatial tent that has its own front room. I went skiing again for the first time in two years and I hadn't forgotten how to ski, thankfully. I went to two teaching conferences. Only two planned trips were cancelled - a skiing inspection visit at Easter that was called off due to the P&O palaver; and the camping weekend I had planned in Snowdonia, when I realised nobody else was likely to be coming with me. Not too bad at all, considering the past couple of years. </p><p>(While I am a lover of a selfie, as we all know, I have made a conscious choice to share mainly pictures of just me in this post, where possible, as some people prefer not to be pasted too liberally all over the internet, I mean you Mr Z). </p><p><b>January:</b></p><p>A little Belfast weekend to see my friend Naomi and meet her new baby, Bethan. Here I am in the museum with an actual cannon from the Spanish Armada.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw-FOYVEfvaiTVgsVq-cexG-Sctx8FWfk4IW-RHzFV-6Qln2W0sSWnfKwTV0VYzOeBL1M0iVvtm60xnkHGgha_Cubcp9j7_mu-K6gRfMNSawuuxtWbcwqc7uvVU0scgR1jDgxy_TWeSrcbR_GsGlmp878AY1M3F7AgKlXEnTw771pmtH9xmks04GW5Ag/s4608/IMG_20220123_131658.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw-FOYVEfvaiTVgsVq-cexG-Sctx8FWfk4IW-RHzFV-6Qln2W0sSWnfKwTV0VYzOeBL1M0iVvtm60xnkHGgha_Cubcp9j7_mu-K6gRfMNSawuuxtWbcwqc7uvVU0scgR1jDgxy_TWeSrcbR_GsGlmp878AY1M3F7AgKlXEnTw771pmtH9xmks04GW5Ag/s320/IMG_20220123_131658.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><b>February:</b></p><p><i>Finally</i> ditched British shores and headed to France for some much longed-for skiing, in Les Carroz. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFIPiXd85qxbi9rgFREcrXJ2fP0nyiMyp5ucatOIuF-YeCY4m8r_RfYpwKXBmVVw1lqAAvqlBybTiL2Uaqn37FXpWv0bwapg-GtfV8-UUqK2-Liqr5jVWH3yLP2sKT_OJUoJ1x8Mdf0GTicrXcHwjv_jKpaf66JFswQw96j9MFzA0ADMut4rY9Maz8vQ/s1600/ski2022.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFIPiXd85qxbi9rgFREcrXJ2fP0nyiMyp5ucatOIuF-YeCY4m8r_RfYpwKXBmVVw1lqAAvqlBybTiL2Uaqn37FXpWv0bwapg-GtfV8-UUqK2-Liqr5jVWH3yLP2sKT_OJUoJ1x8Mdf0GTicrXcHwjv_jKpaf66JFswQw96j9MFzA0ADMut4rY9Maz8vQ/s320/ski2022.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><p><b>March:</b></p><p>A night and day in Tamworth to update my ski qualification.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsyfcAgptT9CyXkPcmylNzlgDO8q2RPTNDxuVKjHfbbIE455Wj_3wUnszfLl0OCO7GXp66wg94AyIMriycaeg_sLm1Ma33GiiczTX7onxTnRCo7hWZvkWgjbrb8lhNQ8RpvoG04ZS0_EgvSSt1ZJW4pQ4V3wFTqTDt1ihzNHvIsPwu4N1E-5bPj4voOQ/s4608/IMG_20220302_110812.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsyfcAgptT9CyXkPcmylNzlgDO8q2RPTNDxuVKjHfbbIE455Wj_3wUnszfLl0OCO7GXp66wg94AyIMriycaeg_sLm1Ma33GiiczTX7onxTnRCo7hWZvkWgjbrb8lhNQ8RpvoG04ZS0_EgvSSt1ZJW4pQ4V3wFTqTDt1ihzNHvIsPwu4N1E-5bPj4voOQ/s320/IMG_20220302_110812.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>A weekend in Manchester for a teaching conference.</p><p><b>April:</b></p><p>A weekend in Portsmouth. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwsMTk1maO1n-UhVkogWWL0HX-ZP3SGMcDfueJDiH37cJ5Utwu2juWCSjLGnNwaCDu0I3PwtEDX6pwPpmq0VhS4JwiRaoklIz7VyyYkPbZKlDvyYp5c59rAF0SJo9PxO3acK8HVYAErJeRnJHOEzlexiT8WViJ9iwDpHHZLvPLZlw7K_EtWqodWbSi3A/s4608/IMG20220402145409.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwsMTk1maO1n-UhVkogWWL0HX-ZP3SGMcDfueJDiH37cJ5Utwu2juWCSjLGnNwaCDu0I3PwtEDX6pwPpmq0VhS4JwiRaoklIz7VyyYkPbZKlDvyYp5c59rAF0SJo9PxO3acK8HVYAErJeRnJHOEzlexiT8WViJ9iwDpHHZLvPLZlw7K_EtWqodWbSi3A/s320/IMG20220402145409.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>A couple of days in the Gower, instead of what should have been a second week of skiing. </p><p>A quick visit to London to get a hair cut and catch up with the fam.</p><p>Wonderwool weekend in Wales, incorporating a wander around the Four Waterfalls walk. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaAQAZLQftaa5pvFT5P1pgIivBr1dlA34Z8IYTgqMN5mh9NqWnoCyhXZ9YgnOJB4w_DJjBGsQ6WBtEppwK0ff3k8fzzjfNmIfmaIQDYMSiHOn_KHvt7Nws8yluYGqDJSj3Bh-2JMFjnHm4d7YDZ0XSw4OtCZOj9o0g3h70jn--fVSFdgHmFngRX9qZvQ/s4608/IMG20220422143549.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaAQAZLQftaa5pvFT5P1pgIivBr1dlA34Z8IYTgqMN5mh9NqWnoCyhXZ9YgnOJB4w_DJjBGsQ6WBtEppwK0ff3k8fzzjfNmIfmaIQDYMSiHOn_KHvt7Nws8yluYGqDJSj3Bh-2JMFjnHm4d7YDZ0XSw4OtCZOj9o0g3h70jn--fVSFdgHmFngRX9qZvQ/s320/IMG20220422143549.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p><b>May:</b></p><p>A minibreak to a lovely spa hotel in Bucks, so Mother Hand and I could visit Bletchley Park. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifV7xkHUVem4MocbNRzRGUx0romnzf5OC__6C6JBEnS9R4-ww1vC4gpQELZwfcRE2gILgL3DcVgr2xleHU7XHKURV-F4hoYxkjBoJ05bx_nuBYDVFtHeXpiKU6LVnFSw3e0jYVfBrmO4N3R3ewWn742vw7BbrRTiaSSeK73LBx_LsBYVnLkdahSF98Wg/s4608/IMG20220531112408.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="4608" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifV7xkHUVem4MocbNRzRGUx0romnzf5OC__6C6JBEnS9R4-ww1vC4gpQELZwfcRE2gILgL3DcVgr2xleHU7XHKURV-F4hoYxkjBoJ05bx_nuBYDVFtHeXpiKU6LVnFSw3e0jYVfBrmO4N3R3ewWn742vw7BbrRTiaSSeK73LBx_LsBYVnLkdahSF98Wg/s320/IMG20220531112408.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><b>June:</b></p><p>A weekend in Scotland to visit Jen and fam.</p><p>A very quick trip to London to see Six at Hampton Court - original cast, just awesome.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4NAZNVWKNZJTZnVgVnZZydZdiE2l1gKcIyDCfCIoDZRD-bxDjkkICj85Q8ChdRvWmLXKPVhuDm0Q33aKwuWLidkNBL7aK4_T2X9cPO8A91837vWM7gAvOLR0FR5vUzZI5sGg4mExeukE3gNQeJywwW7lpc22PVeau9pbv6tnFUoB0uIHkb5ddHmvp4w/s4608/IMG20220619204954.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4NAZNVWKNZJTZnVgVnZZydZdiE2l1gKcIyDCfCIoDZRD-bxDjkkICj85Q8ChdRvWmLXKPVhuDm0Q33aKwuWLidkNBL7aK4_T2X9cPO8A91837vWM7gAvOLR0FR5vUzZI5sGg4mExeukE3gNQeJywwW7lpc22PVeau9pbv6tnFUoB0uIHkb5ddHmvp4w/s320/IMG20220619204954.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Several nights in Birmingham for exam board meetings - both good to be back and frustrating to be back, particularly since this coincided with the rail strikes. I surprised myself by choosing the gym over breakfast after the first day, I'd forgotten what it's like stopping in a hotel, they did not stop feeding us. </p><p><b>July:</b></p><p>A weekend in the Gower with Rachael and Alex.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9SQsrSAvU4SfVHSXOQLHG3ltqSoD1PxFRnwmphKffLNM5rWBE58Q-BnZPJuPKhBQrAylQS5wkXEJLd8-5xdkF171JBWk-8V6dztT1_W8gAFYEVZM2kAm8xXtX1rxrdyawpVZ0BJ_ltOztzK8_YvCnPRIvomlTmSDy_WH0gIMg3ubiUfo6C_OvjR0Hg/s4608/IMG20220731170439.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU9SQsrSAvU4SfVHSXOQLHG3ltqSoD1PxFRnwmphKffLNM5rWBE58Q-BnZPJuPKhBQrAylQS5wkXEJLd8-5xdkF171JBWk-8V6dztT1_W8gAFYEVZM2kAm8xXtX1rxrdyawpVZ0BJ_ltOztzK8_YvCnPRIvomlTmSDy_WH0gIMg3ubiUfo6C_OvjR0Hg/s320/IMG20220731170439.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p><b>August:</b></p><p>The big Iberian road trip: we caught the ferry from Portsmouth to Santander, staying there a few days, then on to Oviedo via Gijon, then a few days in A Coruna with day trips to Santiago de Compostela, Lugo and Ourense, then on to Vigo where we left the hire car, catching the train to Porto for our last few days. Great fun exploring, my favourite part being the As Catedrais or Cathedral Beach, which we made it to for sunrise and low tide. Just awesome. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHMxkw40ap1V1FgAjESoap8uEWzaCvpVa-2OdaN5c5Lg5wbYCLmWS1sr9Xa7xG4uj1h374kNoLnbisUIicovfIzMYV8Ig4e1ly9KaYD45poWgH7qLiUp0B_TpIMC4mWC-MKPojSe4sPc2cvIfMoT8dXKrEovkRcH_F6l_b9XJxNAVFQb5nlq1ptMEkvg/s4608/IMG20220808074638.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHMxkw40ap1V1FgAjESoap8uEWzaCvpVa-2OdaN5c5Lg5wbYCLmWS1sr9Xa7xG4uj1h374kNoLnbisUIicovfIzMYV8Ig4e1ly9KaYD45poWgH7qLiUp0B_TpIMC4mWC-MKPojSe4sPc2cvIfMoT8dXKrEovkRcH_F6l_b9XJxNAVFQb5nlq1ptMEkvg/s320/IMG20220808074638.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>On my return, I hopped off to Croyde for a couple of nights' camping in my new tent (bought for a jaunt to Snowdonia earlier in the year that didn't go ahead in the end).</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMR9aDe81V9KVKcAIZgfj8a5qFV53ZQs9xBOiPuxHfymN57kuVddeXab6rSdo3bOFR1_9HZzzLsOOSsw1SJAryav7gfVw8p5EiI_2l4G3sTpf6cjOWEQjGZEO5YOs_1jMGjErfBMR3AI6t5Fk98jqD9mzgGE46Abe6RnGBtP-tNUyLGjw3GkvzZLhHQ/s4608/IMG20220823093837.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMR9aDe81V9KVKcAIZgfj8a5qFV53ZQs9xBOiPuxHfymN57kuVddeXab6rSdo3bOFR1_9HZzzLsOOSsw1SJAryav7gfVw8p5EiI_2l4G3sTpf6cjOWEQjGZEO5YOs_1jMGjErfBMR3AI6t5Fk98jqD9mzgGE46Abe6RnGBtP-tNUyLGjw3GkvzZLhHQ/s320/IMG20220823093837.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p>Then Portsmouth. This was not a pleasurable trip as it ended with me dropping Mother Hand off at hospital, where she remained until November. </p><p><b>September:</b></p><p>Portsmouth, twice. Thanks goodness for the beach, where I went for swimming after most hospital visits. I even saw a seal in the water one evening - a first for me. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj979qHjhs-ovgjIW3QOgMinvnDRsOCXwZR8LmnCmn6sCcwtyEVm23GWrFAlVPNjvhD9ezB_AH5l4fFBNXnzM1C7Ss37-QpRz-jwHV4uZG9LiEoVkyc5uTXzCDNa7eig4H4IBJrFMTOLNUbGD6ydnPQ788b0a4f_Di_-j2K2W6XA-arT_NgP-I_pRjApA/s4608/IMG20220902192141.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj979qHjhs-ovgjIW3QOgMinvnDRsOCXwZR8LmnCmn6sCcwtyEVm23GWrFAlVPNjvhD9ezB_AH5l4fFBNXnzM1C7Ss37-QpRz-jwHV4uZG9LiEoVkyc5uTXzCDNa7eig4H4IBJrFMTOLNUbGD6ydnPQ788b0a4f_Di_-j2K2W6XA-arT_NgP-I_pRjApA/s320/IMG20220902192141.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p><b>October:</b></p><p>Portsmouth. I was able to bring Mother Hand home for an afternoon.</p><p>London, for a hair cut and a niece catch up.</p><p>Scotland with Mr Z for our first holiday since 2019. We stayed at a glorious hotel on Loch Ness; this is from the coast near Inverness.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioueqvBMNG49wh3WjQq4ygNvKiK3h1yd52pVcuJsQIEpHEWafGC1wFlPRnI6wstgBC2aWgMMLdjdgFxIqEvcm7HlSxdF4CZHxa4BsBt6S2TAXlwbU3-cQhRdVO4hyaVwTJMHZzLVBxNQ42Q0pQKwB282JIlHeeShoxpAjZRVdlJoxVPaVnUpAUlla6Lg/s1280/IMG_20221024_173037_499.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioueqvBMNG49wh3WjQq4ygNvKiK3h1yd52pVcuJsQIEpHEWafGC1wFlPRnI6wstgBC2aWgMMLdjdgFxIqEvcm7HlSxdF4CZHxa4BsBt6S2TAXlwbU3-cQhRdVO4hyaVwTJMHZzLVBxNQ42Q0pQKwB282JIlHeeShoxpAjZRVdlJoxVPaVnUpAUlla6Lg/s320/IMG_20221024_173037_499.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<p>Portsmouth, again. I spent the weekend at home with Mother Hand, ahead of her coming home permanently, phew.
</p><p><b>November:</b></p><p>A weekend in Oxford for an education conference.</p><p><b>December:</b></p><p>Portsmouth for Mother Hand's birthday. </p><p>London for a couple of days betwixtmas, for family catch ups.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8cDa5B2dKCjrrFlo5fXCRCfpHmE0dMnJRu2jwByhBcvkTnyWiLTH9twUBtgd1ymyEjfE0y4BXZYPIywjfD7tGr9mvzfaaW6gwN_arLvAd0cCiUnIr3RnzNN1GMMQZKaAUVpPK4zr-5Zj9K-w0t8bMAzsNTt4mA-s0qhd4ffK5GhAGwfmCteJG9Kiehw/s4000/IMG20221229180512.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8cDa5B2dKCjrrFlo5fXCRCfpHmE0dMnJRu2jwByhBcvkTnyWiLTH9twUBtgd1ymyEjfE0y4BXZYPIywjfD7tGr9mvzfaaW6gwN_arLvAd0cCiUnIr3RnzNN1GMMQZKaAUVpPK4zr-5Zj9K-w0t8bMAzsNTt4mA-s0qhd4ffK5GhAGwfmCteJG9Kiehw/s320/IMG20221229180512.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br /><p>Fingers crossed for Costa Rica in 2023...</p><p></p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-57589711100081439942023-01-01T22:57:00.002+00:002023-01-01T22:57:28.548+00:002022 Round up: Knits<p>It hasn't been the year of the knitting. I was working on the same jumper for the whole year - I finished it in the first week of December. I don't even know why it took me so long. I love the jumper, it's a pattern I've wanted to knit for years (Milou), the yarn the lovely...meh. I thought I had lost my knitting mojo but then, in the part of the year left when I'd finished the jumper, I managed to knit some mittens, a toddler jumper, a baby cardigan, my first attempt at brioche in the form of a hat and one hexagon (2021 me is very disappointed with 2022 me, who was meant to continue the streak and get it all finished). </p><p>I don't even have a picture of me wearing the finished Milou, although I have been wearing it a lot. Here's an old picture of it, from May, when I finished the body and started the sleeves. Seriously, how did it take me 6 months to knit a pair of sleeves?!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuJY-YJijSlhtLlXk1ZkcoyDeskYLQT5fQZdv-LbJvP3SdpJ3Y8d4yL0ljxT1y6BQgFlk379IcLSs5PqRa51EfcumgpRKvP_fyMMRQBDN7hw26eWcQJO0HShUEwZcrYJkRuW6naU6taYNFk0Rdj9l_-p1ZoBoxUxVoYfKVm49Y9b47orRohCGfHbefSw/s4000/IMG20220521125744.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuJY-YJijSlhtLlXk1ZkcoyDeskYLQT5fQZdv-LbJvP3SdpJ3Y8d4yL0ljxT1y6BQgFlk379IcLSs5PqRa51EfcumgpRKvP_fyMMRQBDN7hw26eWcQJO0HShUEwZcrYJkRuW6naU6taYNFk0Rdj9l_-p1ZoBoxUxVoYfKVm49Y9b47orRohCGfHbefSw/s320/IMG20220521125744.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>In the middle of the year I took a brief pause to knit a hat and a headband from a ball of yarn that the textiles teacher at work gave me as a gift for swapping car parking spaces with her (car parking is extremely tightly controlled at school, I'm not just anal about my space, promise). She also gave me a bottle of wine but it was the yarn that I was most pleased with and I didn't want it disappearing into stash, so I whipped up a hat for a friend who'd had a particularly nasty lost pregnancy and needed something bright, and then a headband with the rest. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4kNIAP95JIyULpkN9oK8OtsEEL-JO5_fc2GmQGeTnFjBnpnOyEBQwCBDYwnShEARihE2s3UM_pUA7u9pPLRDYMjPdo5NmaaGJyDIjXEvw7HBjkRSHuUsut47HTwUsPQn0JuvQA71Kwn6gV760CbMje2eFZ95KmJBmMeM3bIlBnGvim-vDn3dAFz-_g/s4608/IMG20220702202940.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH4kNIAP95JIyULpkN9oK8OtsEEL-JO5_fc2GmQGeTnFjBnpnOyEBQwCBDYwnShEARihE2s3UM_pUA7u9pPLRDYMjPdo5NmaaGJyDIjXEvw7HBjkRSHuUsut47HTwUsPQn0JuvQA71Kwn6gV760CbMje2eFZ95KmJBmMeM3bIlBnGvim-vDn3dAFz-_g/w197-h262/IMG20220702202940.jpg" width="197" /></a></div><p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5TLWEIF9QU08xAcoSeHr_L09sTmUeu4IjZvz1OIUU4KMfEnpmihxRyOeGeGUx2zcz4WZCL5dNzjdmx9T0FZ7LMtiy3Ec8xigKMuZC7P6Kki8Hr2fTIuayg6JVzjro7WwY8tdW8r0oFYFaxl90v-wnrXCGkXbqqbMnC-zUv_4DbKixJe7pbVEnT89NwA/s4608/IMG20220704194436.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4608" data-original-width="3456" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5TLWEIF9QU08xAcoSeHr_L09sTmUeu4IjZvz1OIUU4KMfEnpmihxRyOeGeGUx2zcz4WZCL5dNzjdmx9T0FZ7LMtiy3Ec8xigKMuZC7P6Kki8Hr2fTIuayg6JVzjro7WwY8tdW8r0oFYFaxl90v-wnrXCGkXbqqbMnC-zUv_4DbKixJe7pbVEnT89NwA/w199-h266/IMG20220704194436.jpg" width="199" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Then the December binge. I've made a montage of these because I can't get the pictures aligned to my satisfaction using the Blogger editor. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWqSNsaefx9VKPkSKySEUHlJRHAyruW2c0koqno7yUUOIDcXSF4vNHFbQLQ7FIG25Gw1BaGibnF4-cTsXLEvJqDb7gM9sj58uonZ-c4IvTdKfmdtaklE7e6IfGwrbaA6WnUKPuEd3OqRAX9I8Kx6y3CUdqdCum_aknHFh2pS2_paFC93umJW19XFivPQ/s1564/IMG_20230101_224716.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1564" data-original-width="1564" height="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWqSNsaefx9VKPkSKySEUHlJRHAyruW2c0koqno7yUUOIDcXSF4vNHFbQLQ7FIG25Gw1BaGibnF4-cTsXLEvJqDb7gM9sj58uonZ-c4IvTdKfmdtaklE7e6IfGwrbaA6WnUKPuEd3OqRAX9I8Kx6y3CUdqdCum_aknHFh2pS2_paFC93umJW19XFivPQ/w388-h388/IMG_20230101_224716.jpg" width="388" /></a></div><p>The jumpers are in my favourite workhorse yarn, Rico Aran; Lara's has some of the ladybird buttons on the shoulder that I bought at <a href="http://diario.bunny-land.com/2022/05/wonderwool-2022.html">Wonderwool this year</a>. The hat was knitted from Adriafil Pascal, a chunky yarn I found in the wool shop in Bath, I just loved the colours; the pink strand is Coopknits and wow, that pink is amazing. I love the contrast. I knitted most of the hat in the recommended needle size, then ripped it back and started again one size up as it was a little bit tight. This has gone to Mother Hand for Christmas. The mittens are from a luscious skein of Triskelion baby alpaca, purchased at <a href="http://diario.bunny-land.com/2015/05/wonderwool-2015.html">Wonderwool in 2015</a>. And the single hexagon, though pleasingly, I have done another 3 and a half today whilst watching the first series of Happy Valley. </p><p>So, I guess I finished strong. I am going to knit a couple more fronts for the Presto Chango before my new nephew grows out of it, then I fancy the shawl I wound the wool for 1+ years ago, and after that I might make a start on the ripple blanket. It's about 2,800m out and a bit more than double that in, sigh. But I guess I am just stashing for retirement, right?</p><p>At least that total should be easy to beat in 2023 (famous last words). </p><p><br /></p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808452478370759387.post-83094119976567854022023-01-01T22:11:00.002+00:002023-01-01T22:11:48.833+00:002022 Round up: Reads<p>Having totted up my reading for the year I find the list is longer than I was expecting, in no small part due to the large number of audiobooks I've managed to get through. This represents a little bit of learning about myself: that I am not good at finishing non-fiction (not really news, I've know this for years) but that I <b>am</b> good at listening to it in the car. I can get through an audiobook in about 2 weeks of driving to and from school and, given that I was driving to and from Portsmouth regularly in the autumn and that my favoured swimming spot is an hour's round trip, sometimes faster. This is also partly due to the fact I cannot stop Audible from taking my money and the credits expire which is really irritating, but considerably less so now I am listening to the books. </p><p>Here's the round-up, then:</p><p><b>Books:</b></p><p><b>The Betrayals by Bridget Collins</b></p><p><b>The Drowned City by KJ Maitland</b></p><p><b>Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell</b></p><p><b>Katherine of Aragon: The True Queen by Alison Weir</b></p><p><b>The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman</b></p><p><b>Resurrection Men by Ian Rankin</b></p><p><b>A Respectable Trade by Philippa Gregory</b></p><p><b>Black Mamba Boy by Nadifa Mohamed</b></p><p><b>Company of Liars by Karen Maitland</b></p><p><b>Tidelands by Philippa Gregory</b></p><p><b>The Fortune Men by Nadifa Mohamed</b></p><p><b>Life, Death and Vanilla Slices by Jenny Eclair</b></p><p><b>The Man Who Died Twice by Richard Osman</b></p><p>So, I think we can safely say my genres are crime fiction and historical fiction, then. The Betrayals was a gift from Sib and I read it immediately before I put it on a shelf and forgot about it. The Osman books are marvellously well-written. I didn't love the Weir, I think I know the history too well and the book was extremely long (as was her reign I suppose) so it really dragged. My friend Caroline leant me the Jenny Eclair and it was a light-hearted tonic for the autumn. I think Cloud Atlas and Black Mamba Boy tie for best read of the year; maybe Mohamed slightly pips it. I loved Cloud Atlas a lot but it took a while to get going. Black Mamba Boy just blew me away, right from the start. Highly recommend (though there is one extremely violent episode in it, fair warning). </p><p><b>Audiobooks:</b></p><p><b>4000 weeks by Oliver Burkeman </b>- a book about not worrying too much about productivity. I didn't finish it but there was a great point in there about work filling the time you give it, and therefore you may as well give it less, because it will never be done anyway. Profound. </p><p><b>Natives by Akala</b> - I have a paper copy of this book but found it much easier to have it read to me by Akala himelf. Some gems in here for teaching Politics and History, as well as just understanding Britain better, eg Akala mentions that shift in dominant ethnicity of Black people in Britain, away from Caribbean and towards African.</p><p><b>Brit-ish by Afua Hirsch</b> - I found with this one that I was happily getting to a point, often, when I knew what Hirch's point was going to be. This usually happens when my reading has started to sink in. Another audiobook narrated by its author, always a winner.4</p><p><b>The Second by Carol Anderson</b> - all about gun laws in America and how they both reflect and reinforce a racist system. Full of history, strong interpretation, quite scandalous in parts. </p><p><b>The Secret Lives of Church Women by Deesha Philyaw</b> - accidental fiction choice. Short stories. It worked well for journeys to and from work.</p><p><b>Beyond Belief by Jenna Miscavige-Hill</b> - continuing on from my 2021 audiobook theme of women escaping cults (see: Educated (the best) and Unfollow) I tried this one about leaving Scientology but it was not my favourite. </p><p><b>The Book of Trespass by Nick Hayes</b> - my current listen, this book is amazing. Just amazing. I love it. Each chapter involves the author trespassing on another piece of land and telling a story about land ownership and common rights in England. I love it. </p><p>Special mention should also be given to other audio treats of the year - <i>The Coming Storm</i> podcast on BBC Sounds; the serialisation of <i>The Dark is Rising</i>, also on BBC Sounds (broadcast in 17-minute chunks across the Christmas period and absolutely superb); various episodes of the <i>Intelligence Squared</i> podcast, namely interviews with William Dalrymple, Olivette Otele and Dipo Faloyin. </p><p>I also started (but did not finish) half a dozen non-fiction books in hard copy....I expect they will pop up on the 2023 audiobook list. </p><p><br /></p><p><b><br /></b></p>Sallyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16243823905285551105noreply@blogger.com0