After a particularly lazy week last week, and a Thursday at Step when I found the class so hard that I had to remove all the risers and do the class almost on the flat (Clive's Camp Quote of the Week: "TWO! TWO! OH MY GOD.....next week I'm going to bring in a counting chart from 1 to 10 and we're going to LEARN TO COUNT..."), I have been to a class every night this week *is smug*. I went to two in a row on Monday, and spinning on Tuesday, blergh blergh.
Going so often allows for a lot of daydreaming and making up interesting stories about our fellow exercisers. Annoying Tigger Woman is my favourite. Why is she so bouncy? It is not good for her, she's so busy trying to kick highest or pivot furthest that she totally loses form. Ali and I think it is because of the guy she comes with. Perhaps he is her husband, and she is trying to show off because he had an affair and she is trying to save their relationship. Hence the insanely fast cycling at spinning - with no resistance.
Clive's Camp Quote of tonight: "You're all CRIPPLES!" and "It's not bad. It's not good, but it's ot bad." The other women in the class were all complaining about him tonight, and saying he's boring and they autopilot through the whole thing, and that he's really rude. He's not rude, he's funny! And if he's that boring, how come they're always getting it wrong? We went to a Sunday morning step class with Linda a couple of weeks back - now THAT was dull as shit, and she's not motivational and in fact a bit sneery. I appreciate an instructor that calls me a cripple. It makes me work harder and also makes me laugh; although, I suppose it's a bit un-PC.
All this exercising, but I feel more of a blob than ever. Too many sweets, too much bread. More fruit needed. My 5-and-20 thread on the forum got deleted and I haven't been too good about focusing on my goals since I can't post every day. Excuses, excuses!
In a mere 36 hours, I can make Mr Z cut the front jungle.
Thursday, 24 May 2007
Sunday, 20 May 2007
I am a cliche
This afternoon, while Mr Z slumbered deeply during his nap, I decided I was sick of looking at the long grass in the back and front garden, and that maybe if I mowed the back garden, he might do the front. This was also a ruse to get out of going to the gym this evening, as I thought that some pushing-up-and-down of a mower would count as exercise.
It was all going swimmingly, until I decided to do the edges. And now the lawn mower doesn't work, and one of the pieces of wood on the border is badly splintered. I fear I have become the cliche of woman-with-machinery. And now, we are have this situation.
And in the front garden? Wild fucking kingdom.
Not only can we not finish trimming the back garden, thanks to a dearth of cord for the strimmer, but the only way the front garden will get cut before next weekend is if I take my nail scissors to it.
Here are a couple more gratuitous garden shots - there's some lovely colour in the front garden, and the sneaky Christmas tree is growing again - we put it outside in its pot in January 2003, intending to burn it, and it has rooted through the pot, but it keeps pretending to die and then coming back to life.
...and one further gratuitous shot, of Mr Z peering out of the window, trying to work out why I was taking pictures of my butcher job on the lawn.
It has been a week of weeks. Due to the early commencement of the GCSE exams this year, the year 11 leavers' ball took place on Tuesday. It was the usual mixture of drinking, being ignored by the kids and dancing to the Cha Cha slide. This year, Paul, the very definitely inclined dance teacher, got tongues wagging by dancing extremely suggestively with Katie, whilst his staff "girlfriend" Cara looked on, green-eyed (oh how we love spinning these yarns for the kids); Rob and I tried to re-enact our Christmas Strinctly Come Dancing success to McFly's "Stargirl", succeeding only in knocking Heidi's drink from her hand; and I managed to get all three men in my department into a picture together. Sadly, the cover supervisor also decided to join us, since she spends such a lot of time in the History department, but oh well.
The highlight of the evening, however, has to be when Carol, the head of repro, decided to have a good old boogie in her gorgeous green satin boob tube, and forgot that she had to keep her chest lifted and shoulder blades back. The unfortunate year 11 who was having his picture taken at the time got an eyeful and is possibly scarred for life. At least it was just the one that popped out. This is why strapless bras are an absolute must under boob tubes.
Anyway, the year 11 ball was tres fun, but it was a TUESDAY for crying out loud, and I didn't manage to catch up on my sleep all week. It was so bad, I spent all day Saturday with chronic indigestion, napping on the sofa. The whole 5-fruit-and-veg-and-20-minutes-of-exercise plan has totally gone out of the window, and I am not feeling great. Back to it this week.
An aside: I am annoyed that the option to change my text into Times New Roman has gone *pout*
It was all going swimmingly, until I decided to do the edges. And now the lawn mower doesn't work, and one of the pieces of wood on the border is badly splintered. I fear I have become the cliche of woman-with-machinery. And now, we are have this situation.
And in the front garden? Wild fucking kingdom.
Not only can we not finish trimming the back garden, thanks to a dearth of cord for the strimmer, but the only way the front garden will get cut before next weekend is if I take my nail scissors to it.
Here are a couple more gratuitous garden shots - there's some lovely colour in the front garden, and the sneaky Christmas tree is growing again - we put it outside in its pot in January 2003, intending to burn it, and it has rooted through the pot, but it keeps pretending to die and then coming back to life.
...and one further gratuitous shot, of Mr Z peering out of the window, trying to work out why I was taking pictures of my butcher job on the lawn.
It has been a week of weeks. Due to the early commencement of the GCSE exams this year, the year 11 leavers' ball took place on Tuesday. It was the usual mixture of drinking, being ignored by the kids and dancing to the Cha Cha slide. This year, Paul, the very definitely inclined dance teacher, got tongues wagging by dancing extremely suggestively with Katie, whilst his staff "girlfriend" Cara looked on, green-eyed (oh how we love spinning these yarns for the kids); Rob and I tried to re-enact our Christmas Strinctly Come Dancing success to McFly's "Stargirl", succeeding only in knocking Heidi's drink from her hand; and I managed to get all three men in my department into a picture together. Sadly, the cover supervisor also decided to join us, since she spends such a lot of time in the History department, but oh well.
The highlight of the evening, however, has to be when Carol, the head of repro, decided to have a good old boogie in her gorgeous green satin boob tube, and forgot that she had to keep her chest lifted and shoulder blades back. The unfortunate year 11 who was having his picture taken at the time got an eyeful and is possibly scarred for life. At least it was just the one that popped out. This is why strapless bras are an absolute must under boob tubes.
Anyway, the year 11 ball was tres fun, but it was a TUESDAY for crying out loud, and I didn't manage to catch up on my sleep all week. It was so bad, I spent all day Saturday with chronic indigestion, napping on the sofa. The whole 5-fruit-and-veg-and-20-minutes-of-exercise plan has totally gone out of the window, and I am not feeling great. Back to it this week.
An aside: I am annoyed that the option to change my text into Times New Roman has gone *pout*
Tuesday, 15 May 2007
The end is nigh
I parted my hair on the other side today.
During my daily morning break preening in the staffroom toilet mirror, I found a white hair.
Granted, it was only a couple of inches long. Granted, the end that was not attached to my scalp was tapered and not coarse, as though it had once been a hair of normal hue, but the shock of something had stripped it of its shade. Granted, it was buried beneath a lot of other normal-coloured hairs, and could have been mistaken for a particularly bright blonde one (there are a lot of blonde hairs on that side of my scalp, unusually). But, it's still not a good sign. In fact, I take it as an indication that I am not the bearer of Mother Hand's lucky, hardly-any-grey-before-50 genes, or Maternal Gran's luckier, still-got-some-colour-at-83-thank-you-very-much. Instead, I appear to be laden with Father Hand's....let's just say, not-so-lucky genes. I suppose it was always on the cards.
I pulled out the offending hair and put it in my handbag. I shall take it home and tape it into my journal, as a reminder that vanity can only be the indulgence of the young.
During my daily morning break preening in the staffroom toilet mirror, I found a white hair.
Granted, it was only a couple of inches long. Granted, the end that was not attached to my scalp was tapered and not coarse, as though it had once been a hair of normal hue, but the shock of something had stripped it of its shade. Granted, it was buried beneath a lot of other normal-coloured hairs, and could have been mistaken for a particularly bright blonde one (there are a lot of blonde hairs on that side of my scalp, unusually). But, it's still not a good sign. In fact, I take it as an indication that I am not the bearer of Mother Hand's lucky, hardly-any-grey-before-50 genes, or Maternal Gran's luckier, still-got-some-colour-at-83-thank-you-very-much. Instead, I appear to be laden with Father Hand's....let's just say, not-so-lucky genes. I suppose it was always on the cards.
I pulled out the offending hair and put it in my handbag. I shall take it home and tape it into my journal, as a reminder that vanity can only be the indulgence of the young.
Sunday, 6 May 2007
Rainy May Day
What a surprise! It is raining. I spent the weekend in Hastings with Sam, and it was so overcast and windy that I couldn't even go in the sea :-( I wanted to go cycling tomorrow, since Amaryah (colleague at school) leant me her bike, and I want to see how long it takes to cycle to Keynsham, the local train station. They have started to do an hourly service to school now, and if it's cyclable it might be a good alternative for when the clutch goes on my car (I fear this is imminent). Of course, the return train journey costs £4 a day more than the petrol, but still.
Maybe it will be nice enough for the bike ride. Otherwise I'll be sat inside all day, ignoring my piles of work, and Ester, which is now over 200 stitches wide and takes me half an hour per row and therefore I have now lost interest. I have such a poor attention span. I even just zoned out on this entry for a few minutes.
I have spent 2 days filling my body with junk food and alcohol and smoking more cigarettes than I have in the past 2 months (I managed to quit for nearly a whole month...). Consequently I feel pretty rough right now. I might go to bed and read a fitness magazine as penance.
Maybe it will be nice enough for the bike ride. Otherwise I'll be sat inside all day, ignoring my piles of work, and Ester, which is now over 200 stitches wide and takes me half an hour per row and therefore I have now lost interest. I have such a poor attention span. I even just zoned out on this entry for a few minutes.
I have spent 2 days filling my body with junk food and alcohol and smoking more cigarettes than I have in the past 2 months (I managed to quit for nearly a whole month...). Consequently I feel pretty rough right now. I might go to bed and read a fitness magazine as penance.
Saturday, 21 April 2007
Current obsessions
Knitting books
I bought two last month and have pored over them endlessly. One is Stitch'n'Bitch Nation, which has at least a dozen patterns in it that I want to knit, and the other is No Sheep For You which has taught me a lot about non-woollen fibres and been quite helpful in the knitting of Ester. I have added at least another three to my wishlist. This is pointless - I already have more patterns than I can ever knit. I feel I am just using knitting to justify the augmentation of my library.
Knitting
I am exactly halfway through Ester. I lazily decided against buying a circular needle today since it involved a car trip, but I realised today I can't continue without the circ. Boo. It will have to wait until next week now, I expect, only I am so into it now that I don't want to stop and I may find myself driving over to John Lewis tomorrow to buy one, even though I don't have enough petrol to get to work on Monday, let alone fork out for knitting supplies.
Here are some pictures, anyway -
Above, the whole thing in beautiful lustrous silk, and to the left, a close up of that beautiful cable work.
Yes, I'm a knitting geek at the moment. I'm loving it.
20 Minutes a Day
I managed to stick to my 20 minutes of exercise a day for a whole 13 days in a row. Unfortunately I slipped up yesterday - I was so tired after my first week back at work I went to bed at 7pm. Now I have a new challenge - trying to beat 13 days in a row. It is very motivating to know I don't have to do longer than 20 minutes.
Being green
Today, I walked up the 'wood (thus reducing fuel emissions), went to the green grocer (supporting local businesses), bought mostly British/local food (cutting food miles), put them into string bags (reducing the amount of waste), and walked home. I was so smug, because this included my 20 minutes as well. I am trying to work out the cheapest way to buy a bike, too, because I have discovered there is a train from the nearest station that I could take to work. It would cost almost double what the petrol costs, but once in a while it might be a nice change. I really want a bike with a basket on the front, so I can carry the mitten around in it with a bunch of flowers and a baguette, or something. I'm sure she'd love that, and wouldn't at all try to jump out and commit suicide under the front wheel just to escape the indignity of being such a shameless cliche.
Nice weather
It's been utterly gawjus this week. Apparently it's going to be 23 degrees tomorrow. There may be much hammock-dwelling, ahead of the rain predicted for next week.
Thursday, 19 April 2007
Predictable as ever
Of course, I went back to work and the entries tailed off immediately.
ICI's quotes of the week:
"Oooohhh you're all doing so WELL! I'm so produ of myself."
"I'm not saying anything this time. I'm not speaking. I won't say a thing. ................. STRADDLE! Ooohhh I can't help myself"
Extreme comedy value.
I have kept up the 20-minutes-a-day extremely well; the weekend was a bit hairy, I actually hauled out Yourself! Fitness and went back to Maya for 15 minutes. She was very pissed off with me and our 15 minute session consisted of weighted squat-lunges (3 sets on each side) and 100 side crunches. Note to self: do not ignore computer program for so long again: programmers have a sadistic streak.
I tried the dress on this week. It still fits, in that it stretches over my inflated frame, but I couldn't do it up without some serious corsetry or a minor miracle. It will be a good measure of success (or lack thereof).
My tutor group seem to be having something of a meltdown this week, there have been some very strange goings on, from even the most quiet member. We've had the usual "EVERYONE HATES ME AND THIS SCHOOL IS SHIT AND NOBODY CARES" rant from C; L has been excluded for most of the week for throwing a rock at someone; and today, there was a big row between S & S - S says she's going to punch other S if she doesn't stop sending her rude texts. It's like a little soap opera, it really is. The highlight of the week so far was when Ca refused for a day and a half to remove her second pair of stud earrings and was removed from lessons as a result. I find this extremely petty, on both sides, but she is the only one I had a chance of talking round. It didn't work. More of this school's shit and I'll go somewhere else. Le sigh.
Funny moment today when Sarah, the PGCE student, quietly and cautiously voiced her concerns that K always seemed stoned, to which Caroline and I responded in tandem, "He is." I then realised how matter-of-fact we'd been about it and was momentarily a little shocked, but then, he's been stoned for the past 2 and a half years, so it's no great shakes. At least his ambition has moved on from pimp or drug dealer to scaffolder - he won't need Maths GCSE for that, not like the other two.
I have been rather hurled into the deep end with the new job. The Head caught me on Wednesday and told me I needed to find 2 gifted year 11s staying on in the 6th form who could afford to fork out £700 to go on a G&T conference to Hong Kong in November, by Friday. Deadline for said trip passed 3 weeks ago, so needless to say my predecessor (who has the jobs of about 4 different people combined and a very sick baby at home) is named "Muddikins von Mud Mud" with senior management. I was torn between wanting desperately to complete Mission Impossible and impress, and being very aware that I don't officially take the job until May 1st - I haven't even had the confirmation letter. In the end I threw myself into it. I think I may have sorted it, although I don't have any paperwork about it at all, even application forms, so that makes the possibility of success slightly slimmer. Still, I have my first G&T meeting tomorrow so perhaps I can get one then.
SO tired. Bed and Ian Rankin novel, I think.
ICI's quotes of the week:
"Oooohhh you're all doing so WELL! I'm so produ of myself."
"I'm not saying anything this time. I'm not speaking. I won't say a thing. ................. STRADDLE! Ooohhh I can't help myself"
Extreme comedy value.
I have kept up the 20-minutes-a-day extremely well; the weekend was a bit hairy, I actually hauled out Yourself! Fitness and went back to Maya for 15 minutes. She was very pissed off with me and our 15 minute session consisted of weighted squat-lunges (3 sets on each side) and 100 side crunches. Note to self: do not ignore computer program for so long again: programmers have a sadistic streak.
I tried the dress on this week. It still fits, in that it stretches over my inflated frame, but I couldn't do it up without some serious corsetry or a minor miracle. It will be a good measure of success (or lack thereof).
My tutor group seem to be having something of a meltdown this week, there have been some very strange goings on, from even the most quiet member. We've had the usual "EVERYONE HATES ME AND THIS SCHOOL IS SHIT AND NOBODY CARES" rant from C; L has been excluded for most of the week for throwing a rock at someone; and today, there was a big row between S & S - S says she's going to punch other S if she doesn't stop sending her rude texts. It's like a little soap opera, it really is. The highlight of the week so far was when Ca refused for a day and a half to remove her second pair of stud earrings and was removed from lessons as a result. I find this extremely petty, on both sides, but she is the only one I had a chance of talking round. It didn't work. More of this school's shit and I'll go somewhere else. Le sigh.
Funny moment today when Sarah, the PGCE student, quietly and cautiously voiced her concerns that K always seemed stoned, to which Caroline and I responded in tandem, "He is." I then realised how matter-of-fact we'd been about it and was momentarily a little shocked, but then, he's been stoned for the past 2 and a half years, so it's no great shakes. At least his ambition has moved on from pimp or drug dealer to scaffolder - he won't need Maths GCSE for that, not like the other two.
I have been rather hurled into the deep end with the new job. The Head caught me on Wednesday and told me I needed to find 2 gifted year 11s staying on in the 6th form who could afford to fork out £700 to go on a G&T conference to Hong Kong in November, by Friday. Deadline for said trip passed 3 weeks ago, so needless to say my predecessor (who has the jobs of about 4 different people combined and a very sick baby at home) is named "Muddikins von Mud Mud" with senior management. I was torn between wanting desperately to complete Mission Impossible and impress, and being very aware that I don't officially take the job until May 1st - I haven't even had the confirmation letter. In the end I threw myself into it. I think I may have sorted it, although I don't have any paperwork about it at all, even application forms, so that makes the possibility of success slightly slimmer. Still, I have my first G&T meeting tomorrow so perhaps I can get one then.
SO tired. Bed and Ian Rankin novel, I think.
Friday, 13 April 2007
Holidays are almost gone
Gutted for myself :-(
Mother Hand is here. She has come to sort out my garden, though I have a feel she is going to sow some seeds in a hanging basket, repot my desperately over-crowded aloe vera and then leave, with all the weeds still intact. She has hurt her wrist, so I may let her off. And she did bring me a magnolia.
I've done some good exercising. I went to circuits last night, I swear it was easier, I worked my arse off and felt I was able to put in more than usual, so either I am slightly fitter or that cold was slowing me down more than I thought.
Tonight, back to Step with the incredibly camp instructor (ICI, from now on). I found the routine a lot easier this time round, muscle memory or something, and he commented on it at the end - how it had really clicked for me. Not so the two teens who sneaked in 5 minutes late and had their steps way too close to the back wall. You could tell they weren't going to make it - one wasn't wearing a sports bra and she really needed it - a particularly energetic 3-knee repeater and she'd have knocked herself out, with 2 black eyes to show for her efforts. She managed about 45 minutes and then sat the rest out. They had no grasp on the routine at all.
Ali was also much happier this time although still finding it hard, and we cackled to each other all the way through and shouted to each other over the music and were generally loud and obnoxious (there were only 8 people there) but had a blast. At one point, ICI, shouted, "Have you got that?" and I was there, stepping away, giving a big grin and thumbs up in an overly-cheerful, if-I-stop-I'll-fall-over way, whilst Ali shouted, "NO!" and waved her hands about. ICI jumped off his step and advanced several paces, cocked his hips and put his hands on them, screwed up his eyes and cooed, "Oooohhhh, you have REALLY!" at which point, I would have rolled on the floor laughing if I'd had enough breath. He is such excellent value for money, even without the amazing exercise.
My arse hurts like buggery now, though. Oh....that's maybe not a good simile. But still. Between the endless leg lifts at circuits and tonight's mega-step, I'm sure my posterior must be at least 2 inches higher and an inch tighter now.
Ali wanted to do circuits tomorrow but Mother Hand will still be here - just as well or that would have been 4 days in a row at the leisure centre. I must sort out a membership, it'll save me a fortune.
I have finished marking one whole coursework studdy. Huzzah! The boring one is done - now, the tedious one. Maybe I will do that at the weekend, in between the 50 reports and 85 assessments. I am so crap at time management. I am wishing this blog had smileys.
I am nearly halfway on Ester, and now that the cable repeat has had some time to, well, repeat, I am LOVING it. So much, I may not even dye it when I'm done. It suits the undyed look. I reckon one more repeat of the cable pattern and I'll be ready to cast on for the top part, at which point I'll have to go out and buy a 4.5mm circ, because I have managed on straight needles until now, but the number of stitches is going to double, or maybe triple, I forget. So, even though I hate back-and-forthing on a circ, I may have no choice. I am tempted to buy 2 circs...but that's just crazy talk. What a waste of money I don't have. I really want to get the first part finished by Saturday, though, so I can cast on before going back to work. It's so much easier to pick up a nice cable pattern for a couple of rows than it is to spend an hour casting on and picking up stitches.
I found this cartoon. Laughed a lot. Enjoy.
Mother Hand is here. She has come to sort out my garden, though I have a feel she is going to sow some seeds in a hanging basket, repot my desperately over-crowded aloe vera and then leave, with all the weeds still intact. She has hurt her wrist, so I may let her off. And she did bring me a magnolia.
I've done some good exercising. I went to circuits last night, I swear it was easier, I worked my arse off and felt I was able to put in more than usual, so either I am slightly fitter or that cold was slowing me down more than I thought.
Tonight, back to Step with the incredibly camp instructor (ICI, from now on). I found the routine a lot easier this time round, muscle memory or something, and he commented on it at the end - how it had really clicked for me. Not so the two teens who sneaked in 5 minutes late and had their steps way too close to the back wall. You could tell they weren't going to make it - one wasn't wearing a sports bra and she really needed it - a particularly energetic 3-knee repeater and she'd have knocked herself out, with 2 black eyes to show for her efforts. She managed about 45 minutes and then sat the rest out. They had no grasp on the routine at all.
Ali was also much happier this time although still finding it hard, and we cackled to each other all the way through and shouted to each other over the music and were generally loud and obnoxious (there were only 8 people there) but had a blast. At one point, ICI, shouted, "Have you got that?" and I was there, stepping away, giving a big grin and thumbs up in an overly-cheerful, if-I-stop-I'll-fall-over way, whilst Ali shouted, "NO!" and waved her hands about. ICI jumped off his step and advanced several paces, cocked his hips and put his hands on them, screwed up his eyes and cooed, "Oooohhhh, you have REALLY!" at which point, I would have rolled on the floor laughing if I'd had enough breath. He is such excellent value for money, even without the amazing exercise.
My arse hurts like buggery now, though. Oh....that's maybe not a good simile. But still. Between the endless leg lifts at circuits and tonight's mega-step, I'm sure my posterior must be at least 2 inches higher and an inch tighter now.
Ali wanted to do circuits tomorrow but Mother Hand will still be here - just as well or that would have been 4 days in a row at the leisure centre. I must sort out a membership, it'll save me a fortune.
I have finished marking one whole coursework studdy. Huzzah! The boring one is done - now, the tedious one. Maybe I will do that at the weekend, in between the 50 reports and 85 assessments. I am so crap at time management. I am wishing this blog had smileys.
I am nearly halfway on Ester, and now that the cable repeat has had some time to, well, repeat, I am LOVING it. So much, I may not even dye it when I'm done. It suits the undyed look. I reckon one more repeat of the cable pattern and I'll be ready to cast on for the top part, at which point I'll have to go out and buy a 4.5mm circ, because I have managed on straight needles until now, but the number of stitches is going to double, or maybe triple, I forget. So, even though I hate back-and-forthing on a circ, I may have no choice. I am tempted to buy 2 circs...but that's just crazy talk. What a waste of money I don't have. I really want to get the first part finished by Saturday, though, so I can cast on before going back to work. It's so much easier to pick up a nice cable pattern for a couple of rows than it is to spend an hour casting on and picking up stitches.
I found this cartoon. Laughed a lot. Enjoy.
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