Sunday, 14 September 2025

2025 Week 37

Today would have been Father Hand's 75th birthday. I had quite a vivid dream about him this week, during which we had a conversation, where he told me he was going to go to prison for a while (in a way that made it sound like a choice he was making, rather than due to a crime) and he thought he might give heroin a try, because he'd never tried it and wondered what it was like. I have noted that my dreams have been increasingly more vivid and uncomfortable than ever this summer, but this one was really odd. 

Happy heavenly birthday, Father Hand. Stay off the smack. 

This has been a week of epic length. It started with Mother Z's funeral. She received a terminal cancer diagnosis just before last Christmas and lasted for eight months. During that time, in typical Mother Z fashion, she got absolutely everything relating to her departure organised to the letter, down to the shop where her immediate family were to buy their black funeral suits. She chose the music - recordings of choirs she was in - and the pictures for the slide show. She even wrote her own eulogy. It was exactly as she would have wanted it and it was standing room only. A sad occasion but a good celebration of her long life. 

The rest of the week was a chaotic whirlwind of work. I began with heavy overwhelm but had started to see the wood for the trees by Friday. The to-do list is gradually abating and I have had the 'I need to quit my job' conversation with Mr Z that he reminds me happens every September. There is definitely a little shadow over my shoulder of the dissertation that I have made no further moves with, but it has been less than a fortnight since the launch days so I think I will be OK. 

What else has happened? Hmm, hmm. I spoke at an online conference on Thursday evening. I came down with a horrible cold on Wednesday that swept on very quickly, so I skipped yoga and went to bed at 9pm. Happily I felt better when I woke up, though Mr Z has since succumbed to the same and we wonder if it might be covid. We did at least make it to brunch yesterday. 

Progress was made on the nice goals list. The fancy boots arrived and they are gorgeous and they do actually fit, which is good, really, but I was anticipating sending them back as they were quite spendy. Now I just have to make sure I wear them. I also did a lot of preserving last Sunday (hence the no blogging, I was at capacity) and churned out nine jars of crab apple jelly and six jars of mango chutney. 

I am at row 34 of 50 on the colourwork chart of the Christmas jumper and feeling slightly less worried about running out of yarn: for some stupid reason, I bought the yarn required for a size L when I was in Oslo over the summer, as opposed to the 2XL that I am knitting. This isn't an easy problem to fix: according to the pattern, I am 100g of sport weight and 50g of laceweight short. However, based on current progress, I think I will be OK. I have some ideas for getting round it if I run out, anyway, here they are in order of preference: knit it slightly cropped; add green bands to the sleeves/waist to save on the white; knit it with elbow-length sleeves; contact the yarn shop and ask if they can ship me some more; find someone in Oslo and ask them if they can go into the shop, buy some and send it to me. I think the most likely scenario is that I will have enough sport weight but run out of laceweight, but as they're carried together, I can get more of the laceweight (which is more easily available in the UK, thankfully) and even though the dye lot will be different it probably won't be THAT noticeable. It is the undyed colourway, after all. 

To go with the knitting, I had to find some things to watch, so I worked my way through the first eight episodes of Ken Burns's Vietnam War, which was actually much better than I was anticipating. Then it was removed from Now TV, because of course it was. Trying to decide if I want to see the end enough to buy the final episodes on Amazon Prime. I reckon if I just wait long enough, it will pop up on another service. The Mr Z declared it was time to rewatch The Wire (I never finished it all on the first watch through anyway) and I decided today that I would give Yellowstone a try. The jury is out. I like the landscapes but it doesn't really feel like it is for me. 

Tuesday, 9 September 2025

Tuesday Ten

Ten goals (plus two more goals) to achieve in autumn (deadline: November 1st). 


I made a list. It had ten things on it. Then I went to Oxford and my friend Poppy told me she was going to be in a play and so I added her to it. Then I remembered the very spendy boots I wanted to buy last year and had been dithering over again throughout August, so they made it onto the list too. So now it's 12, not 10. But I think a 'number of gym visits' goal doesn't really count, does it? 

No wait, it does. Tuesday twelve is better than Tuesday eleven. 

The boots are arriving tomorrow. The kitchen is full of preserves. The Christmas jumper is on the needles. I smell like some kind of apple and pumpkin pie. Autumn, I am in you. 


Sunday, 31 August 2025

Summer holiday goals

I mentioned in my last post that I wrote a summer holiday list, inspired by an online friend who did the same to try to give his summer a bit of structure. It made me nostalgic for when I used to do monthly goal-setting on this blog. I'm not going to say I will restart because, well, yknow, I don't need any more deadlines in my life to feel guilty about not meeting. But I liked this and am going to work on an autumn version. 


Not too bad at all. I tried to keep it mixed and all fun stuff. Ginge is my car and Mr Z washed it for me last week, love him. 'Night out with friends' was my slightly more sanitised version of 'get drunk' because I never allow that anymore, I can never afford to lose the next day to the inevitable eye-wateringly early wake up and therefore essential afternoon nap that a lot of alcohol causes, but I decided this was me being a bit too controlling of myself and so we had the wine flight with the tasting menu in Oslo and then went for cocktails after. It is classic me to aim to get drunk in what must be the second soberest capital in Europe (our tour guide told us Norway is a lot of seconds...second greenest capital, second highest coffee consumption...). 


The house clean jobs turned into a bit of a decluttering mission but I think that's OK. I pulled out all the bags that were jumbled by the fridge and counted them...why did I need 64 reusable shopping bags, when I do the vast majority of my grocery shopping online?

Spot the horrified Lenin in picture one, appalled that a new space has become available to explore in the kitchen but there is this enormous barrier suddenly in front of it. 




It was quite hard getting rid of some of these, turns out I am weirdly emotionally attached to some bags, but I was inspired by the tote that said 'collect memories not things' (the irony) and so over half of these got donated to the local foodbank. I also had eight kitchen aprons, of which I need to ditch six. Sorting for charity shop and ragging must surely be a job for this next season. 

I didn't mean to count PT sessions and yoga towards the gym visits so really I only made it to five. I intended to go today but, here I am, just clearing the decks before I pop off to Oxford for my dissertation workshops, so I guess I paid them for the month of August and didn't use it. But that's OK. I am looking forward to getting back to it.

I will have to put the kayak on the autumn list. I haven't had her out once yet this year, shame. 




2025 Week 35

Remember back when I did my week 29 post and said, how different things will be when it's week 39 and how far off that seems? Ah, fun times. It's the last day of the summer holidays today...well, actually, it's the penultimate day, because school starts back on Tuesday. Right up until Friday morning, I thought school started on Monday. It's moot because I'm in Oxford Mon/Tue anyway, but ... wow. Wow.

It's been, of course, another full on week of crazy variable work stuff. I finished my assignments with a little time to spare (hours, not days) - one, I loved and wanted to do more of; the other, well, let's hope the people marking it don't find it as deathly boring as I did. It definitely convinced me that I am not cut out to be a quantitative researcher. 'It just has to pass' became the mantra. Then I had to write a dissertation proposal which I was fixated on and just couldn't do, so I submitted some awful cough in the direction of a document, just because I had to get it off my list. I have had somewhere over 100 re-marks to do, which I finished today. A small but important bit of other exam board work. And then I checked my school email on Friday morning and found that the head had added a 45 minute inset day slot on something that is my responsibility, which I had to plan and give to her to deliver. In her defence she sent it on Tuesday and I hadn't looked but, yeah. I had a list of school things to do already and therefore none of them have been done yet. 

Meh. I can only do what I can do. Let's not even mention the three events I'm speaking at in the next month, the school course I'm doing that I need to prep for and that article I said I would write for a magazine, that is due some time this week. Lol. 

Anyway, enough whining. Let's all remember that I do choose to say yes to these things. 

I have (in amongst all this because why not) been to Mother Hand's for a few days this week as she rented a beach hut. It wasn't really beach hut weather but we did try to make it work. We got up early on Thursday and managed to get to the beach in a brief window of sun, only with some rain around the edges so we got treated to a beautiful beach rainbow, well played, Portsmouth. 




I caught a (much delayed) train home on Thursday and then went for some drinks with local history teacher friends for an end-of-summer debrief. This sort of marked the end of the holiday for me as Friday was spent at work, although on Saturday, Mr Z and I did manage a brunch and we watched two episodes of The Last of Us while I wound yarn for my next knitting project. 

On that - I finished knitting the UV unicorn jumper for the niece, it looks AMAZING under the UV torch I bought to go with it. Sadly they did not come to hang out on Wednesday so she doesn't have the jumper yet, but hopefully she will love it. 


I'm now winding the wool for a Christmas jumper, Kristtjørn by Hanne Rimmen. I bought the green and red yarn in Oxford and the white in Norway this summer (the yarn shop lady helped me pick it out and told me Oslo was a city of around a million people that supported at least 20 knitting shops - further evidence that Norway is somewhere I could live). Unusually for me, I think I will knit a proper swatch for this one, since I probably only have time to knit it once before Christmas. I'd also like to use up the UV yarn on a small jumper for the nephew, though, so we will see how I get on. 

After a summer of many novels, there hasn't been much reading this week, probably because I'm trying to make myself read a book for work, which usually results in just, no reading happening at all. I have been reading an ancient children's book called Lone Pine Five that Mother Hand returned to me, I don't remember it at all but then I read millions of books as a child so that's probably to be expected. 

As I said, we've been watching The Last of Us and have one episode left. I finished my Sex and the City rewatch and started AJLT season 3 but I am already disappointed with it. I want to watch the new Clarkson's Farm, the Ken Burns Vietnam War series (I don't really want to but it has been so highly recommended by someone whose opinion I would normally value, that I feel I must try) and The Phoenecian Contract, which I see is out to rent online, another sad story for our cinemas. I might see if it is still playing anywhere before I rent it. 

While I am trying to get away from the 'every second of my life must be meaningful' vibe, I might make a list of things I'd like to achieve in the autumn. Every year, I get to November and feel like I've missed out on the whole apples, leaves, pumpkins thing. I made myself a summer holiday list which was not completed, but helped me think about things I really wanted to do, so maybe it's time to do that for the next season. 

Ooh! And I almost forgot the good health news, that arrived at the end of July. Following a second blood test, the surgery has declared that I am officially in remission from diabetes. Yey me! My sugars are still in the pre-diabetic range so there is no reason yet to stop, but the nurse was very pleased with my progress. Zoe said, 'So you were diabetic for what, like, five minutes?' - a quote I shall hang on to. Hopefully I can continue to make progress in this area of my life also. In all my copious free time.

Friday, 29 August 2025

Library Confession

I took a book back to the library today that I've had since 2020. I did not know I still had it. I am recording the episode here because the librarian didn't seem to understand what I was telling her and I feel the need to confess fully, for avoidance of doubt.

Firstly, I have the utmost respect for libraries and value them highly. Mother Hand worked in a library throughout her pregnancy with me so I feel we have a special bond (me and libraries, I mean). 

Here's how it happened. I wanted an obscure history text I heard some nerdy history teachers discussing. It was only available online for megabucks, so I turned to the library system. There was one copy available, but it was in the stack of the library in the next city over. No matter, I thought, I am not in a hurry. This was around about December 2019. 

The book took awhile, obviously. I got the notification of its arrival around February 2020. That was a busy month for me, I had a ski trip and a huge job interview to worry about, so by the time I made it to the library to collect, it was March. I went in during the unmanned hours as this was the only time I had. The book was so old and neglected, it wouldn't scan through the self-service. I tried several times. I even tried to see if I could type in the barcode, but no dice (this was where the librarian started to either not believe me or misunderstand me). 

I considered for a while and decided I would just take the book. Nobody had checked it out for over a decade. I would come back with it during manned hours to check it out properly. 

Well. We all know what happened next. Due to the pandemic, the book stayed with me, unchecked out. Shamefully, I did not read it. It inched gently under the pile of books by my bed, until it was at the very back of the very bottom. Meanwhile, I sourced a copy to buy for not many pence, in the USA, and had it sent to Father Hand for me to collect on my nest visit. In a classic Father Hand-me interaction, he read it and gave me an overview - 'Interesting enough, but it is a textbook'. I collected it when I saw him last. 

Fast forward to this summer, when the pile o'books was finally dismantled. Oh, the shame of finding the book languishing there! I resolved I would take it into the library to explain myself, rather than surreptitiously drop it in the returns box, anonymously.

The librarian gave me short shrift. She told me to hang around while she checked to ensure I had not amassed a hefty fine (I would have loved this, I am constantly running up small fines as a way of contributing funds to the library system, on account of our special bond). Turns out, the book has dropped off the system. This news was delivered in an accusatory way, though I do wonder, was it on the system when I got it? - because it wouldn't scan. The librarian did manage to stop short of rolling her eyes but it was clear my (to my mind, very rational) explanation was falling on barren ground. She would return it to the relevant authority, she said. 

So now, it is here. My confession. I did do a terrible thing, but in my defence, I would never steal a book from a library on purpose. I was just a victim of circumstance. And untidiness. 

Monday, 25 August 2025

The 2025 Grand Tour

This summer, I was inspired to travel with a bit less flying, by my knitting group friend Jess, who completed a two-month-long interrailing trip this year with her partner. I was also keen to go back to Puglia, which I think I can crown as my very favourite place to go on holiday, at least within Europe; at least in the summer. 

Thus, an epic adventure of trains, ferry and one flight home was born. We did as we have done for the past few years: I planned the route and the transport, Zoe provided a selection of hotels that I then booked for us (she is epic at picking good hotels). I thought I'd write up what we did so this post is massive but you don't have to read it, you know, free will is a thing. 

Stage 1: Train London-Milan, three nights in Milan

We took the 9.30 Eurostar to Paris, which gave us around a 2 hour layover to get across the city to Gare de Lyons: ample time for a Parisian lunch and lounge in the sunshine. From there, we took a Frecciarossa train to Milan, which took around 7 hours. The line we took only reopened this past spring, having been closed for a number of years thanks to rock fall. I did think, when we were doing it, that we could sensibly have done this as an overnight train, but the views were so stunning. We went through Oulx, which has prompted me to consider ski-training it to Sauze d'Oulx (my favourite ski resort) at some point for a holiday. The train was very busy but comfortable enough. 

We stayed at the fancy Chateu Montfort, next to a tram stop and a metro stop, roughly 20 minutes' very slow ambling from the city centre. Fantastic spa, I loved it, and super-helpful staff. Spendy, but we usually do spendy for the first few days of the trip, when we most need to rest. We went to the Pinacoteca di Brera, the Duomo and, of course, to the see the Last Supper. 





Stage 2: Train Milan-Bari, four nights in Bari

Another Frecciarossa and this time with spectacular views of the Adriatic coastline for most of the journey. The aircon in our carriage sadly broke so we got (eventually) moved into business class: next time, I think I would book the business seats from the start as they were not that much dearer. The train was also nearly an hour late arriving, which is odd for Italy. I had multiple emails in Italian explaining how I could claim some of the fee back. Maybe I will get round to it. 


We stayed in an apartment in the old town. People were generally a bit nose-wrinkly about us staying in Bari because it's a big port city so, I guess, a bit like staying in Southampton - ie, why there when there are lots of gorgeous places nearby? But it suited us. Great transport links, not masses to see so you didn't feel bound to be constantly out wandering, and really nice breezy climate. We did a couple of day trips, one to Polignano a Mare by train and one organised coach tour to Alberobello and Matera - this on that last day, and they were able to stow our luggage on the coach for the whole day, which was very handy. 

If I had to do it again I might choose Brindisi instead. It's a bit further south, so a bit easier to reach the prettiest coastline and also Lecce, which I would have liked to have revisited. 



Stage 3: Ferry to Albania, one night in Durres, five nights in Tirana

We took an overnight Adria ferry from Bari to Durres in Albania. This was cheap enough that we could afford a two-berth cabin with a window to the outside and saved us a night's hotel fee. Bari port was a little confusing, not many signs or people to ask for info and very few announcements; we walked in at the old town end, by passport control, where a security guard told us we needed to take the shuttle bus to check in and then shuttle back. This we did. I wanted to note that Google Maps told us we couldn't enter the port at the old town end unless we did so by bus - instead, it indicated that we needed to walk for over an hour to get in at the check-in end. This isn't correct, don't panic. 

We queued at passport control for well over an hour with no sign of any staff and then eventually a man came and announced something, so half the people started queuing elsewhere. Unfortunately, he announced in Italian and very quietly so we couldn't hear him anyway (strong shades of Laura Ramoso's Chiara character here). For a while we haplessly stood around. Then Zoe went to ask someone and it turned out it was the queue for our ferry, while everyone else was standing in a queue for another ferry to Durres leaving an hour later. Clear as mud. When we got through passport control (shout out to the Port of Bari passport control people for being the most sullen I have come across, possibly ever - please do consider getting other jobs as this one clearly makes you miserable) we were left with no indication of where our ferry was, and nobody to ask. Someone else in our position had to go back to ask the grumpy passport people. 

I mention this only because obviously I did extensive Googling while waiting in the queue and couldn't find much, if any, information about going out through the Port of Bari as a foot passenger. If this is you: it will be fine. Ask lots of questions. I'd also say that, in common with many large passenger ferries, they don't really have a process for managing foot passengers. There was very little information, even on the boat, about where to go. So, you have to hold your nerve. Perhaps I should have booked direct with Adria instead of using Direct Ferries, they might have sent through more information. 

After all that palaver, the ferry ride was mercifully delightful. Very comfortable cabin, the crossing was extremely smooth, the shower was a bit dribbly but very welcome. We slept soundly all the way until it was almost time to get off and breakfast was widely served, though we did not partake. It was difficult, again, to get off the ferry - various staff kept telling us to wait to be called, as foot passengers, but eventually it became obvious that nobody was going to call so we walked off while they were still unloading the lorries. 

Durres port had no bureau de change, that we could find, and a very punitive ATM, which we had to use because we needed lek to pay for our hotel. It charged me around £18 of fees to withdraw £250. Still recovering. We planned a slow walk to our hotel, in stages, as we were very early to check in and it was about an hour and 10 minutes' walk, but they said this wasn't wise an booked us a taxi. The taxi driver was not prepared for the last 2km to be gravel road though I was then quite relieved we hadn't tried to walk it. 

We spent one night in Durres at the Kallmi Eco Rooms. One night was not enough. We were stupid and should have booked two nights. Once again, people were a bit nose-wrinkly about Durres as a holiday destination; this was a little north of the port but it also seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. The two-room hotel was attached to a beach club and, as Zoe and I had booked both rooms, we essentially had the beach and surroundings to ourselves when everybody went home for the day, and before they arrived in the morning. I had a very peaceful and private swim the next morning. The hotel let us lounge in the private garden until our rooms were ready and really pulled out all the stops to be helpful, booking us a taxi for the next day and even providing a cat. We had the freshest fish for dinner and a sumptuous breakfast. 

It was paradise. 


Anyway, then off to Tirana, the taxi was about 45 euros which we felt was very reasonable, particularly as we had no interest in figuring out the buses. This is what back-packing looks like when you're both in well-paid jobs and unwilling to put up with any unnecessary discomfort (aka, middle aged). 

We stayed in an apartment in Tirana close to Skanderberg Square. It was a lovely studio, with a bed on a mezzanine platform that unfortunately was a little bit too protected from the aircon. The apartment building next door to us was also being torn down and work on this went on until at least midnight every night. The first night was the worst as the active destruction meant our whole building was shaking on the regular; the other nights, they were just trucking away the rubble, so it was just noisy. And dusty, so dusty. But the place was very good value and they weren't to know this would be going on. 

We did a couple of day trips out of Tirana: to Berat, and to the Albanian Alps ('the Accursed Mountains') with a hike to the Blue Eye for swimming. I was very excited about this one as I read a book about this area when I had just finished uni and was keenly anticipating seeing a reconciliation tower. Sadly the guide did not take us there. Nor did he guide the whole party to the Blue Eye - just the half that were at the front. We hung out and swam in the river for an hour before he reappeared, much too late to take us to the end destination. Very disappointing. I keep telling myself that I would have been very happy with my hike and swim had I not known that I missed out on swimming through a waterfall, but ... sad face. Maybe I will go back again some time. 

We also did a little explore of Tirana: BunkArt2, a secret police museum housed in a former nuclear bunker; a tasting dinner at Cerem Ismet Shehu in the castle and more traditional food at Oda; an explore of Skanderberg square. Lazy lunches at Luara bakery. It was a very pleasant city to walk around.  








So that was Il Grande Tour of 2025, with only one flight involved and no car rental. I can recommend all of it. If I was changing anything, I'd consider Brindisi instead of Bari and spend longer at the beach in Albania than in the city. I think I could also have done a bit more research into things to do, particularly in Tirana, as I wonder if we missed out on anything that was must-see. But then, nobody wants to do too much on holiday. Next year I am quite keen to just go to one place, for a change. Unpacking would be nice. 

For logistics - all train tickets booked on the Trainline (even the ones in Puglia, it was easier than figuring out the machines); all accom booked on Booking.com; ferry booked on Direct Ferries; most of the tours booked on Viator which meant the Berat one was half price as they offer rewards. The internet, eh? Makes things so easy. 

Monday, 28 July 2025

2025 Week 30

Nearly gave myself a little jolt there by typing 'Week 40' I thought - surely we are not that close to the end of the year. Thankfully not. Though let us dwell momentarily on what things might look like by week 40 of this year - the assignments will be in and the marks received; the dissertation topic will be chosen and the work will be underway; mark reviews will be pretty much completed; hopefully the next ski holiday will have been booked; the tasks I need to do for the start of the new school year will be complete, or will no longer matter. 

I have spent much of the past week working on said assignments, though not as much as I should have done. I am meant to be working on the least favourite of them now, but find myself doing some extra bits of exam work that have come through today and chipping away at this blog post. I'm not sure if it's self-sabotage, a hint of burnout or just plain being stuck that is to blame for that. The preferred assignment is going well - so well, in fact, that I divined I might well spend all my available time on it and then fail the other one (I have already resigned myself to barely scraping a pass and am wondering what might happen if I did indeed fail, but since the answer is undoubtedly that this would just mean I have to work on it EVEN MORE and in September, when I'm busier...well, fine) so I have had to set it aside for now. 

In true navel-gazing style, I have been trying to work out what it is about this that is causing me so much stress. Whenever I make a concerted effort to actually do some work on it, I feel much happier and more hopeful about the whole thing. As soon as I stop, or look through what I haven't yet done, I just feel completely overwhelmed and out of my depth. Is this a feature of me as a learner? It has been an extraordinarily long time since I've done anything that I found academically challenging. As in, I can't actually remember a time. Maybe Year 9 algebra, with poor Father Hand explaining it to me over and over again on the phone from Florida. Maybe that assessment course I did with the exam board in 2016, writing those assignments was not fun, but they were short and a simple pass/fail. 

I think a big part of it also is that there is so much (SO much) that I don't understand. I read studies similar to the one I'm supposed to be writing, as we've been advised to do, and it's like reading something in a foreign language. I cannot write something similar because I simply don't know what they're on about. 

Anyway. This isn't helping, obvs. I just wanted to record it because the process of being a learner is currently so difficult and I need to somehow grasp on to this and remember it when I'm back in my classroom. I maintain that learning history can never be this difficult because it doesn't involve impossible tasks like testing for biases...oh actually. Yes, I did just write that and yes, I am having a word with myself. 

Other new this past week. We got to the end of the exam work on the predicted day: this is the first time that has ever happened, hurrah. I went to the gym four times, to yoga and to swim in the quarry, which is pretty warm now. I opted to do the oft-closed 750m loop but it felt waaaaaay more than 200m longer than the regular route and I was pretty tired by the end of it. My Z and I went for a nice brunch up the 'wood which is becoming a very pleasant habit. I tentatively packed for a little holiday I should be going on this week, to Oslo, though it may not go ahead as Mother Z is very unwell. 

We finished watching The Good Wife and I was reminded again how women in American TV series cannot ever really be strong and independent, enjoy sex or have power, without being ultimately punished in their story arc. Not much reading happened, I chipped away at Seven Killings but am put off by the fact it is a physical book and I need to take my Kindle on holiday, for space reasons, so I started Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi, which is proving very readable so far. 

Back to the assignments!