Gee How Quaint

Badges. Like in Boy Scouts

In conversation the other day, with someone who I hardly know, I did let out a little bit of my crazy.  The unsuspecting chap had told me of his great accomplishment of winning a 'Best Display' at a recent science convention.  I asked this man if he had won a trophy for his effort...and then the wheels started turnin and before I could even think to Edit my text, I sent a little something that went like this.

'Wouldn't it be neato if, as adults, we could win badges for the things we accomplish.  You know.  Like Boy Scout badges, but these are for adults!  I mean, we could walk around with our sashes covered in badges.  What a great conversation piece.  Instead of having to answer tedious questions about our jobs, or slipping into a moan about the weather, we could talk about our badges.'

The crazy-speak went on later that night, whilst husband and I painted the kitchen.

'So, what do you think would be worthwhile badges to earn as an adult?  How about a High Level of Skill and Excellence in Exel?  or possibly 'Can assemble flatpack.' 

And this really makes me wonder, what does everyone else think would be badge-worthy...and are we crazy enough to go badge mad with a new sash wearing craze?

Apparently you CAN teach a monkey new tricks

 

Calm.  Patient.  Easy working manner.  These words do not generally describe my computer habits.  If there are delays, I get annoyed.  If my email is having issues, I fly off in a tizzy.  I complain.  I become unpleasant.  Animals and small children are easy to deal with.  But when technology goes bad, well, little mouse, just watch out.  You may not be working much longer.

Here's a little story that may only be of interest to one person:  Max.  My longsuffering best friend from university.  Max was very clever and very much into his comics.  He had a mind for design and technology that astounded me.  I was very smart and saw these characteristics in Max...and therefore sat my little self next to him in our Computer Design class.  You would see me most days in class, leaning over, whispering things into his ear like 'How do you use the Cutting tool in Photoshop' or 'Where do I go to change the layers for this project.'  Utterly romantic, that.  One day...I just do not know how it happened...I deleted my templates on a project that I had been working on for an entire semester.  Said project was to be handed over the following day. 

I did what any sane, clear thinking person would do.  I walked out.  And never returned to the class.

I do not easily admit defeat and rarely do I give up.  But computers, oh elusive things that you are with your myriad of things that can go awry...you get me every time.

And this leaves me to have the following thought:  Why am I creating a third website?  It's like a form of self harm, this indulging in pursuits that wind me up.

Families

 

This is my family.  2 of the 3.  We are a small family.  Even so, I love my family.  I like looking at us as we play on the beach or work in the garden (Josey digs up what we plant) or just go about our days doing what we do.  We are small, efficient, fun-loving and have lots of interesting hobbies. 

As someone living thousands of miles away from the family she grew up with, I find that calling us a 'Family' very comforting.  I am very thankful for my charge.  Even if I find having to feed them daily somewhat annoying.  What to cook, oh dear oh dear.  Then the laundry.  And dog hair.  Ah well, dealing with those issues is hardly suffering.

I'm very content with the current arrangement.  I just had to say it.

Thanks:)

A case of mistaken identity

Lately, I have become aware that I spend much of my time by myself.  Working from home has its perks:  proper coffee whenever I want it, a late start (later end time...but it all evens out), lounging in the reading window to answer emails, 2 walkies a day with Josey, lunch 3 paces away.  It's all very nicey nicey, busy busy, but generally very quiet.

It was with this revelation that I decided I needed to get 'out there' more, so I did some detective work that lasted all of 2 minutes, and found a morning coffee networking event.  Every Friday.  From 8am to 9am.  Perfect.  Time to be bold and get out of my comfy shell and go and meet people.  Great.

I had been looking forward to this networking lark all week.  Planning Josey's walkies around it, as I am usually walking her at that hour.  And even getting a bit excited about the 'What to wear' issue.  The usual jeans and t-shirt, or perhaps something a bit more girlie, colourful and fun. 

So, late Thursday night, when my eyes feel so tired that they may just slide right out of my face, I opened up my laptop, turned it on and began to find directions to this fabulous coffee networking morning.  Newcastle.  Fine.  There was even a little map provided by Google. 

Looking at the map confused me, but only slightly.  Didn't quite remember those street names, but hey, I haven't lived here long and I couldn't possibly know every street in the city.  Zoomed out to see the bigger area.  Again...didn't ring any bells.  Although I was certain it was in the area of town where I get my car serviced.

(Do you know where I am going with this, yet?)

Zoomed out again.  Hm.  Now, I didn't get the orientation.  Surely that was on the wrong side of the river.

Zoomed out again.  NSW?  Where did that tiny island come from????

I was looking at the East coast of Australia. So very VERY different from the East coast of England.

This is Newcastle, Australia:

 

This is Newcastle upon Tyne, England:

Josey and Me

 

I took this photo shortly after I lost Josey's ball.  The look of disappointment on her face was enough to shame any parent.

This is the new addition to the family.  She's been with us for 3 months now and she is my most talented and amazing sidekick.  Every morning we pick a park and go on walkies.  She loves to off-road and sniff out her surroundings, go on mini play-dates and finds her tiny slice of doggie bliss when she can go for a swim.  Her swimming is rather hilarious as the only things poking up above the water are the top of her head and her two front paws kicking out in frantic paddling motions.

I have come to rely on this daily ritual, this daily walking, as a time to sort out my plans for the day.  Who should I call/email/write what should I draw/print/sew?  But most importantly, I rely on this ritual to take me out of my busy brain and enjoy the lovely outdoors and my most delightful little puppy.

Playing the Sick Card

As one of many hundreds of 'Partners' belonging to a MASSIVE UK internet shopping site, I was asked if I had any interesting stories about overcoming adversity to start my business.  Was my business inspired by a redundancy or perhaps defeating cancer or something like that.  I offered a couple of sentences regarding my story, however, I don't expect for them to follow it up.  It's just too strange, too different.  Not enough people can relate.

The other day my friend mentioned that she thought it odd that I never play the Sick Card.  Honestly, it's both denial and also not wanting to live life dictated by illness.  Although I have overcome the biggest obstacles regarding it, I will always deal with the aftermath. I will never be 'normal.'  I will always have 'a problem.'  I will always have to carry my medical kit and the fear that it could go terribly wrong again.

I remember when I was 15 and trying to get through high school.  This was when my illness began to rear its ugly head.  My teachers were calling my parents asking what was wrong with me.  During that time, the wife of one of my teachers was diagnosed with cancer.  We both fell ill about the same time.  We were both in and out of hospital.  We both looked pale whilst putting brave faces on a bad scene.  She died.  I didn't.  And I remember her husband looking at me and what I read in his eyes was unmistakable.  Why her and why not me?  Really, it's only natural that he should think this.  After all, I was only an annoying teenager that could draw.  She had sons.  She lead a Sunday school class.  She was a leader in the church.  After that, he never did give me eye contact. 

I sometimes wonder if he were to look in on my life now, would he think it worth God's decision to save me and not her?

Celebratin' the inauguration...in the UK

Tonight my America born (British parented) friend and I are going to celebrate Obama's inauguration with the consumption of tasty Cosmopolitans. Whilst parties are going on in London, I haven't heard of any happenings my way, so have made the plan for a mini celebration.  I mean, to not acknowledge this historic event would be tragic.  Plus, I am ecstatic that the guy got voted in.

There are many reasons for my joy, but one very selfish reason is that I will hopefully no longer be frowned upon for being an American.  Yes, I may still be loud and blurt out hideous and embarassing things (even 6 years of living in the UK have not shaken out that habit) but at least I will be from a nation with a respected leader.  Obama stands for many things.  I respect him for his intelligence, commanding presence and the fact that he has already been busy working behind the scenes getting stuff done.

The progeny of Remus

Life as I have known it has changed forever.  Gone are the days of starting my day with 15 minutes of knitting ( I use this time to mentally plan for the day).  Gone are the nights when I slept straight through from 11:30 to 7:00.  Gone.  Gone.  Gone.

The progeny of Remus has changed all that.  Now there are hourly tramps through the sodden garden, with Josey in tow.  Convincing her to stay out in the rain just a few minutes more in my ongoing efforts to get her to do outside what she accidentally does inside.  I have read that this is my fault.  I have been shamed by the experts.  With so many Field Trial Champions in her ancestery (there are 10) you'd think she's learn quicker.  Again, the experts blame me for her indoor mishaps and ability to chew everything.

My schedule of work now happens in 45 minute chunks.  Instead of quitting at 6 I now work until I go to bed just to catch up on everything. 

But it's worth it.  I mean.  Look at that mug. (May or may not be referring to myself).

We're expecting...

A life lived in fear is a life half lived

Last night we went to see the Australia movie. My verdict: Way too long and way too cheesy.  However, at the beginning of the movie, one of the production teams or other team of people involved in the making of the movie had the above quote written out under their logo.

I don't even know who originally said this, but I like it.

So.  This is going to be my motto for the next 12 months.  And fear...what do I fear besides the obvious nasty creepy scary snake and public humliation?  Rejection.  May I see a show of hands out there to see who does not suffer from the affliction of fear of rejection?  No one?  You sure?  Just as I thought.

Now that I am taking this stance, I have a lot of walking to do and a lot of notebook pages of plans and ideas to turn into happenings.  I am going to be a busy girl.  I'm busy anyway.  This is going to be a more productive busy.

And Ugg boots are totally ugly.  Just thought I would throw that in there.  Why would I want my feet to look like shapeless paws?