Sprog Poppin'

Each month I receive an e- newsletter from my summer camp alma mater, Glen Mhor Camp. I almost deleted it, but then decided to read it, adn discovered that my friend Hallah (a regular supporter of Three Feet From a Rat) is going to pop another sprog! The first one is so freakin' adorable that another one will certainly be very exciting! In other sprog poppin' news, Jersey is going to have her second too. Again, adorable first...and I can hardly wait to see what the second (temporarily named Pepe) will be like! Oh, this is all so exciting! Jersey and I are planning to spend a day at the Toronto Zoo when I go back in december. I am propery excited!

In other news, I am in Bristol this weekend visiting Melanie. In typical Joanna style, I have not yet seen the centre of Brisol, but instead have been discovering that both the BBC version and the 2005 Keira Knightly versions of Pride and Prejudice are equally as good on televisions in Bristol as anywhere else in the world!

Melanie (being Canadian as well) has Leahy's Lakefield in her collection, so I am listening to that and feeling reminded of baking cookies at my parents' place. Ahhhhhhhh... Although, I have to confess I'd prefer that Leahy not sing as much...just fiddle. Except I guess in a family with 9 musical children everyone needs a role.

I am eagerly awaiting for Dan to let me know he's safe after booking himself into a seedy Manhattan hotel... Oh...the things my friends get up to!

Oh, one last thing. Patrik (bless him) discovered that an anagram for my name is "her shed on Japan". Funny boy!

What are YOU doing today

First of all, Dantastic ran the Toronto half marathon. Good for him! I got a message from him (although the quality sounded like he was phoning from the moon, rather than Toronto) but he seems to have done it in 1:59. Good for him!

Today the BBC announced the National Trust is doing a massive blog thing so that in 200 years people can marvel at how we lived.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/6048392.stm

http://www.historymatters.org.uk/output/Page1.asp

I totally plan to contribute. My entry for today will be:

4:00 am, woke up in panic about life
4:05 am thought since I was awake panicking I might as well try to return Dantastic's call from earlier in the day (his phone was off)
4:06 Thought about phoning another TO friend, but then thought 11:06 might actually be too late
4:07 returned to panicking
4:15 decided panicking wouldn't help anything, so read a book
4:37 glanced at the clock, thought "I'm tired"
7:30 woke up, thought "I guess I fell asleep", got up, had quick shower so I could get to work to email Courtnay (who I've long been neglecting, but bless her for being such an amazing friend)
8:50 Had a cup of tea at work
9:05 At work - time to start working...

I am doomed!

Apparently I'm not a very good Christian....

http://www.theregister.co.uk/2006/10/10/god_blog/

And to think, you've all been victims of my blathering, thinking my opinion counts and "blurt[ing] things out, without considering the contents or consequences."

They quote the following:
"This, we learn conflicts with the advise given in Proverbs 17:27-28, which tells us:
He who has knowledge spares his words, and a man of understanding is of calm spirit.
Even a fool is counted wise when he holds his peace; when he shuts his lips, he is considered perceptive."

So, clearly, I will shut my lips and be perceptive.

Until tomorrow.

Or this afternoon even.

Stupid *&%$ **^&%$* %*** $%%£* anti-bloggers (Hmmm...clearly I didn't think about the contents or consequences of that last sentence...)

Danni's new career

Last night I had a dream that a group of us told my friend Danni (of 12/08/2005 "Strength of a Bear" and 22/02/2005 "Let it Snow" - bottom picture posts) that if she wanted to give up her current job she'd be a great Black Cab driver because she's a really good driver, knows London very well and is very sociable and would be pleasant for people to speak to.

So...what do people think? Should Danni switch careers? I think it might actually be a fun thing to be - and you'd never have to pay the congestion charge (or would you...?)

Brilliant Site and flatmate saving humanity

My friend Lisa pointed me to this great flickr site - Stickmen in Peril...it's great!
http://www.flickr.com/groups/stickfiguresinperil/pool/

Also, I am very proud of my flatmate for doing a fundraising swim on a chilly Saturday morningn and Hyde Park. Because I know she'd be horrified that I put this up, I am enclosing a group shot whereby she will be hard to identify and a distance picture...

The wrap around nose-pick finger stick...

Ever have a day when you wish you could do this? :)

And She's Off...

Ashley flew back to Canada today to resume her life there.

I am sad and will miss her a-plenty!

Police Ducks and Pigeon Whores

My friend Gary arrived from Canada to visit a couple of weekends ago. After resting up a bit and feeding him some tea and other delightfully British things (are scrambled eggs delightfully British?) I decided the perfect introduction to England would be to take him for pub roast lunch with my always amusing friends Alan and Lisa.

Poor Gary...by the end of the afternoon he thought that the British police, instead of having dogs, protected the public with Police Ducks and that Trafalgar Square has been rid of its bird problems by Ken Livingston's innovative use of Pigeon Whores.



Keeping London's Parks safe....

The Last 10 minutes on a Friday...

...are the slowest minutes EVER!!!

I can't wait to go home to a night of stupidly funny DVDs and picking my bike up from the bike fix-it shop...

Hooray - Hobbes has just phoned...later everyone!

Jet setting...

I had a fantastic week-and-a-bit off! I took at trip up to Sweden/Norway where Patrik, Gustav, Jonathan and I stayed at the most lovely cabin in the Norwegian mountains!

Among the highlights were:
Being trapped in a car with a bunch of farm yard animals for 8 hours
Eating elk (in both sausage and regular-meat form; and then seeing pictures of it just-post-death and then looking beside me on the sofa and realising I was sitting next to the rifle that shot it!)
Doing nooooooothing in the mountains (except read and pee for a whole day!)
Being the partial consumer of three of the four pans of blueberry crumble that Gustav and Jonathan made with the ridiculous numbers of wild blueberries that grew everywhere!
Mucking our way through the swam
Learning a Swedish song with profound and deeply challenging lyrics (Bagar Begntsson ar dod, han har brant sig pa brod, han har sjalv bakat in sig i en limpa. Han har kampat somen man med en flaskkorv i hand, och en gonmalad potta pa skaln.)
And the loads of reflection and prayer that went on as well.

Then I flew back to London and like the jet-setter I am, the next morning drove to Cologne Germany with my friend Matt for our friend Lisa's wedding. He and I had many adventures on our European tour...most of which were probably funny if you were there, but would bore you all to read about. We discovered that we are quite good at navigating ourselves home from random villages at 2:00 in the morning and that the policy of "just drive until we find a sign for any main road" generally works quite well. The people of Cologne were very lovely and there wasn't a time when we were pulled to the side of the road with our maps out that people didn't offer to help! We stopped at the Pachendale War Museum, at the Tyne Cot Commonwealth War Cemetary and at Ypres on the way home (thought we might as well end up happy weekend away on a positive note!) Actually, the war bits were very interesting and very humbling too. It's hard to imagine...but maybe not so hard...



The yard of our cabin in the woods


The boys...


Patrik and his guitar...


The double rainbow connection...

Leaving your gate open in the mountains...


In Belgium, it would seem it is law to wash your hands...


Friends Reunited!


Candian graves at Tyne Cot Cemetary


The successful European explorers on the (very windy) ferry back to the UK

Biggleswade, Cambridge and Wonderbread

Dantastic and I took a bit of a road trip on the weekend. We realised that it's hard to find a road out of Biggleswade (but came up with an awesome idea reality spoof show called something like "You can't leave Bigglewade) but eventually made it to Cambridge and found the best pub - or at least it made the best Steak and Ale pie I've ever had (and he reported that his...whatever he had was good too). It was called the Pickeral Inn and it's on Magdalene St. Good prices, good food. Highly recommended. I then proceeded to pick up a CD called Strange Country Music...it was a compilation of strange country music. Very good - very amusing...

I also realised yesterday that England doesn't seem to have a Wonderbread equivalent, and I think that's a bit sad. I miss wonderbread (although I don't know if I ever ate it..). Bonus points if you can finish the song..."great green globs of greasy, grimey gopher guts..."

Wlidlife Sightings!

Lisa and I took a great trip to Bath (via almost every village in Wiltshire) on the weekend (more photos to follow later). On the way to Bath I saw my first wild hedgehog and badger! Unfortunately they were dead on the road, but one must start somewhere, right?

In the spirit of Hedgehog sightings, Lisa sent me this link today...

http://www.loosetooth.com/Numo/numo.php3

I think hedgehogs should maybe stay in the wild...clearly, captivity has driven this one mad...

I...so...badly...want..one...

http://www.bordercollietrustgb.org.uk/

My Viking Name

I shamelessly copied this link from Ciaran's blog...

http://www.thequarter.org/Media/VikingName.php

Here's mine (I'm a bit freaked out about the last name - they had no way of knowing what my last name actually is!!!):

Jódís Sheeptipper
(Well, actually, that wouldn't really be your name -- since you're female, your name would be something like "Jódís Björnsdottir". But this is the twenty-first century, and you want to be known for who you are, not for who your father was, right? Right.)

Your Viking Personality: The tougher Vikings might let you on the boat, but generally only when they need ballast. Unlike most Vikings, you don't have a quick temper; you tend to think about your actions before you undertake them. Sometimes you think too long. You might be able to hold your own on the battlefield, but you're no "berserker".

A long sea voyage aboard a Viking longboat would be difficult for you, but you might be able to manage it. Other Vikings would consider you "one of the guys" if you were a guy. (But even though you're a woman, they still think you're all right.)

People who've known you for a while don't always trust your word. Other Vikings would be calling you "tree-hugging hippie peacenik" if the phrase had been invented.

And on this note, my Swedish learning is going slowly and steadily...I have a month before I have to put it to the test...I know how to say "I haven't been to Sweden before" but that would be a lie because I have been, and since I don't want to end up in a Swedish jail, I better learn a new sentence!

Along the Lines of Comfort Goop...

I sent this email to my sister, because if I were in Toronto I'd want to spend the evening with her..

Today's a beautiful day here, and it's one of those days where I feel like if it's as nice in Toronto as it is here (you know, sunny and warm, but not too warm) I'd call you this evening and say "let's meet up tonight" and of course you'd be free (as one is always wont to be in imagined scenarios) and we'd go to Baskin Robbins (I imagine the one at Christie Station even though I know you don't live there anymore and it would be a trek, but that doesn't matter in these imaginings either!) and get something chocolatey. Yum yum!

I get comments sometimes about how it seems like I have an adventure each time I leave the house and "how will you ever be able to come back" etc While that sometimes seems to be the case, please rest assured that there are times when I feel like I'd trade almost the whole two years of adventures for two hours of coffee, or ice cream, or a Sunday lunch with people at home. They do say, Gentle Reader, that home is where the heart is, and lots of me is still back in Canada.

Comfort Goop

I have long since forgotten the name of this recipe (if it, indeed, ever had one to begin with), but tonight I'm going to make mom's comfort goop for dinner tonight...and I need to share how to make it with everyone else! It sounds gross, but trust me - it's brilliant (and I look forward to converting my friend who's coming around for dinner tonight!)

1. Brown some ground (mince - for the UK audience) beef with onions
2. Add one package of made Kraft Dinner (available at the Canadian import store, or from me in a limited supply, and for a price, for the UK audience)
3. Add one un-made can of Campbell's tomato soup

Stir it all up, and serve with ketchup, salad and a nice glass of red wine (except mommy didn't serve it to us with wine when we were little).

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm....comfort goop...

How to Save £20 at IKEA

Last night the flatmate and I, as part of our "Flat Rejuvenation" project, spontaneously went to IKEA to get a bookshelf...as we were leaving we decided to check out the "as is" section, and came across exactly the shelf we were about to buy, but already assembled (with no obvious flaws), and £20 cheaper! From that point it was only a matter of fitting a very long shelf into my very short Amica and trecking it home on the North Circular. The Flatmate's father was wondering if we got a £20 ticket, but no, we made it safe and sound!

How the Flatmates got their house back

After yet another exhausting and depressing houseviewing session, the Flatmates decided that perhaps the grass isn't always greener, and called the Landlord to ask if they could "undo" their notice "of course," said the landlord, so it is at the Parish Lockup that the flatmates will remain. A few minor changes will be made, and they will put a bit more effort into its appearance, but they are very happy to be settled into a place they love as their home where the lounge is filled with sunshine and they can watch the Mill Hill East tube line cross the viaduct every ten minutes in each direction...

And for my next Trick...

Sass emailed me and said that she, Weiller, Lami and Chandra are going on a canoe trip, and I felt rather homesick. Since going up to the Lake District, I've been aching to get a canoe and since the Flatmate and I want to find a place with a garden, I thought "hmmmm...now I'll have storage space for one" so I went on ebay to investigate. The ones that weren't inflatable or actually kayaks (why can't British people get that right?) were rather quite expensive, but then I saw this...a diy canoe kit for only £10! A project for when daddy comes to visit this Autumn (you didn't really want to leave my backyard - did you Dad? My wonderful daddy has build a couple beautiful cedar strip canoes from scratch, and has wonderfully restored and repainted an old canvas war canoe, if I may be so bold as to brag about my dad's wonderful talents!)

Well, I'll give it a think. As for now, I'm expecting my mail-order teach yourself Swedish course to arrive any day now...

Life Admin...

Dear Readers,

There are so many times each week when I think of something and think "Oh, I'd like to blog that", but right now, my life is being taken up by what my colleague calls "Life Admin" - finding a new place to live with the Flatmate, sorting through my belongings to get rid of the things I don't want to take, and well...something that I have learned from reading blogging articles one shouldn't discuss online, having lots of rehearsals for concerts, etc, etc. Work is still so busy that on my lunch hours these days I want to escape instead of doing this...but when I have internet etc at home (which won't be so long now) I'll be here much more.

In the meantime, I wrote my first song a few weeks ago. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and I was waiting to listen to the England game on the radio... I'll probably never get a Grammy for it, but it suited the time...I have recently got a second hand classical guitar, named Alpha (for those of you who know Winston, no worries...he's well and in storage in Canada - he didn't make the flight over). Anyways, it goes a little something like this:

Me and my alpha guitar
Haven't got very far
because I'm sitting in the sunshine on the sofa.
I've got a million and one things do do
but the sky is breezy and blue
and I'm enjoying feeling like a loafa

England's playing today
And what else can I say
the window boxes on my sill are really pretty!!!!

Me and my alpha guitar
haven’t got very far
because I’m sitting in the sunshine on my sofa.

Tonight I'm making a roast
and I don't mean to boast
but I've been told my roasts are rather yummy!

Me and my alpha guitar
Haven’t got very far
Because I’m sitting in the sunshine on my sofa

I spoke with Patrik on the phone,
later I'll call him at home
and then I'll have a chance to practice my Swedish!

Me and my alpha guitar
Haven’t got very far
Because I’m sitting in the sunshine on my sofa!

Yeahhh...as I said, no grammies yet, but it's a start!

Why the Scots need more things to amuse themselves

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/highlands_and_islands/5105946.stm

I wonder how much it would cost to take out a policy incase the Loch Ness Monster shows up as a stray on my doorstep...

Sounds like home to me...

Last night at rehearsal we had our soloists come along and rehearse a new piece with us. They have a duet to the words of DH Lawrence's Piano. The music and the words are stunning and by the end I was fighting back a flood of tears (note: it's the movement preceding Arise My Love - see Sunday, February 5, 2006's post for my thoughts about that one). Anyways, something about it made me feel rather homesick (not quite sure what though, because although we have a large black piano, winter and my mother does have rather little feet, our family sing-songs usually involved my dad and the guitar instead of my mom and the piano...). At any rate...just wanted to share the words with you (and if this gives you the incentive to come to the concert - I think we may be sold out - sorry!)


Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.

In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside
And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.

So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato.
The glamour of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.

Mug Shot

I glanced at my mugs on my desk the other day and thought "mug shot" and it made me giggle (oh, we of easy amusement)

It was to be the first in my "photo of the day" series on flickr, but then my camera batteries died, so I am going to restart the series tomorrow...

Ride 'em ....whoever...

In one of those conversations that I have since forgotten how it got started, Lisa and I started inventing different types of "rodeos" for different segments of the general population (I do remember me saying something about rodeos, and she said "do they still have those?" and I said "Yes" and after a moment's reflection she said "if the person smells, does it then become a BO-deo?" and ti went from there...here's our list (thus far...it seems to be ever expanding)

A rodeo for drug users - ODeo
A rodeo for amphibians - Toadeo
...for prostitutes (or mall Santas, or amusingly, both...) - Hodeo
...for hobbits - frodeo
...for fashion victims - vogue-eo
...for farmers - rod-e-i-e-i-o
...for Romans - tog-eo
...for Inuit - snowdeo
...for people who feel sorry for themselves - woedeo
...for teletubbies - podeo
...for deceased authors - wrote-eo
...for Pillsbury dough boys - poke-eo

I think the list could go on...but it's addictive and I'd better stop...

Spam!

An example of a spam email I had got at work that clearly went through one too many online translations...

"tried ! gurgle but solvate but presuming try defendant on emery but acquit be psychometry ! convalesce the denominate try diffeomorphic try diaphragm not dilogarithm or hawthorn the khartoum not minibike the rooftree see central but stucco be savage on alan a chinese ! civet not drink in cult it create and emissary on emasculate but cern see ashen be circumference and pyrolysis see nostradamus , concise notKeine email hier , monetarist not backstop andit's coherent and sequoia seemay gentile it excretory ,or stud on ludwig on"

I'm convinced!

(PS Don't worry - I didn't actually open it - I copied it from my viewing pane)

Donald, Where's Your Troosers?

Well, it's been two weeks since we left, but the wild roadtrip to Scotland, England and Wales in a weekend was FANTASTIC! Bumping along Britain's highways often listening to what somehow became our official theme song "Donald Where's Your Troosers" we explored 1129 miles of some of the best scenes and highways that Britain has to offer! The highlights included Drew declaring that "Cheshire smells like poo" (because as we passed the "welcome to Chesire sigh, we were accosted by the smell of manure, that really didn't leave us until we left Chesire), happening upon Hadrian's Wall (although we never quite figured out how a three foot high wall was going to keep the Scots out of England - ha ha), watching the sunrise on Loch Lomond (after getting over the disapointment of discovering that Loch is actually just a fancy-dancy word for Lake), the beautiful town of Luss (where everything is perfectly in place and the man who impatiently poured we whisky amatueurs our whisky in the pub was also the man who cooked our breakfast at the village store the next day. He was probably also the postman, school teacher, police officer and doctor), the amusement of perfecting our Scottish accents all the way to Scotland (only to realise that we always ended in a hybrid of Hungarian and Indian. Eventually we decided that adding "Auch" before everything we said worked well enough to keep us happy, and thus we carried on with our bad accents with a bit of "auch" for authenticity's sake), the shoddily shorn Scottish Sheep (picture to follow), discovering the secret sect of the Ninja Methodists (and listening as Dave and Drew worked out the finer points of their theology, including how one should fight back when fighting a Ninja Methodist), driving through random one-car lanes in Wales looking for a road...any road..., the unforgettable moment of popping over the crest of Snowdon just before the final push to the summit, and the hilarious frustration Drew and I felt of being stuck for an hour in a North Welsh traffic jam on a random country road (who knew they had enough cars).

Aaaaand blogger's being stupid and won't let me post them, so I'll have to put some of them on Flickr...

My Flickr Site...

Hi,

If you will turn your eyes to the left, you'll notice I have posted a link to my flickr site. Like this one, it is very much a work-in-progress.

I just wanted to say, please don't be offended if you don't see yourself up there yet. I have made an arbitrary rule that I'm not allowed to go through and post old "back dated" (as it were) photos. The ones I am posting (except for the one of John in the signs section), are ones that are already on my camera, or haven't been taken yet (did that make sense?). I'm also going to try to change my headings. I don't like the "people that matter" because I don't want people who aren't there yet to think they don't matter (or people who are to get swelled heads!)

Happy Anniversary to Meeeeeee

Two years ago about this time Danni and I were hauling my suitcases from Gatwick Airport to her flat.

I remember watching the Piccadilly train pull in when we switched at...probably Green Park (it was all a blur) and thinking "what on earth am I doing?" In the past couple of years I have come to realise that we all wonder that sometimes, and when push comes to shove I'm thankful to have had the opportunity to wonder that on this side of the Pond and to wonder it with so many friends both here and in Canada.

On my anniversary of my first day at work (June 2nd) I will be celebrating by taking the day off and Dave, Drew and I will be driving from Manchster to the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomund.

"You take the high road, and I'll take the low..."

I'm so excited!

Pictures, pictures, pictures...

Well, my dears, I did try. In fact, I spent a ridiculous amount of time last night taking pictures of my arse, and by the time I was done, it was sore from having spent so long in a "self-portrait of arse" position. The problem is that the impressive bruising tends to centre around my tailbone and (how to phrase it delicately) crack area, and I just didn't feel that people really wanted to see that. Besides, I hadn't realised until last night how gross it really is, and I thought it might make people feel a bit off. Instead, I am posting a shot (taken with the digital zoom from my office window) of where the incident took place.



It's a bit hard to see here, but Alexandra Palace (Ally Pally, to us locals) is the large structure to the right of the church. Just out of interest, that tall tower is the old BBC tower, and it was the site of the transmisison of the first TV signal.

Anyways, the nurse who did my stitching and I were joking that my p*rn film career would never take off now, but if anyone finds my digital camera, it might be just the break I need!

A stich in time...

...or six in my butt...

Caused by some kid falling when I was ice skating with my friend Ankur, taking me down in the process and having his skate cause a slice and puncture wound in my arse.

And yes, the ambulance guy (yes, they called an ambulance) was quite cute...figures!

My new project

I've started a Flickr account.

I know I probably shouldn't when I'm behind on my blog, but I really want to work on being a better photographer too!

I'll let you know the website as soon as I figure it out myself, and get it started sufficiently enough to not look silly (and offend people who may not be on it yet!)

And I would drive 500 miles...

Sorry about the lack of posting lately...

The same ol' story of having lots of ideas at home, not having a computer there, not having the time at work to blog anymore, and not having the money to buy a computer either!

Anyways, just quickly, I drove up to the Yorkshire Dales with Andrea who's visiting from Canada this weekend. It was tops! Saw Matt in York last night, and he's well, although more hairy these days (no worries...it looks good...although he slightly reminds me of the valiant Georgian sword-wielding, princess saving type)

More later...gotta go!

An English Canoeing Adventure

Some of you will have heard about this already but...

Last Saturday Hobbes (aka Danni), Anna and I went on a daytrip to the lovely Suffolk seaside town of Southwold, and lo and behold, across from the pier they had a large pond whereby people could rent boats. So, with the glee of a pair of five year-olds (after illegally climbing the rocks on the beach because somehow we missed the signs saying it was closed because it had become a construction site and then convincing Anna that yes, she did want to sit in the middle of a boat and learn how to paddle) we went and rented our "canoe" for £4.50 and had the run of the whooooooole pond! Our canoe was something to be envied...it was large, purple, plastic, flatbottomed and had a large sticker reading "Mohican" with a picture of a First Nations man (complete with headdress) padding his heart out.

So, after the gentleman kindly showed us which was the front and which was the back of the "canoe" (ha ha, he had no idea what experienced paddlers we really are!) and gave us our waist-high, one-third-the-regulation-sized paddles, we were off! We're quite sure we were the best paddlers that pond has ever seen...we were wildly doing figure eights around the "islands" (that incidentally were covered in nesting Canadian Geese who became really quite stroppy when we'd paddle past) and we even found a little section of inlet in which to dock our canoe and explore the surrouding area (knowing that if we got lost, a contruction site for a new subdivision was only 500 meteres away). We thought about portaging, but thought we might get accused of stealing their wonderful plastic canoe...

In all fairness to the "canoe" it was actually a bit tippier than it looked, but we felt confident we'd survive if we tipped...into the foot-and-a-half deep water...

I have enclosed some photos documenting the day...we were quite excited to discover that from the pictures, it looks quite convincingly like we were on a proper canoe trip...it's all in the camera angle!

Stay tuned for our next adventure...wine tasting in Bordeaux...

Ashley ran a marathon

Ashley ran the London Marathon on Sunday, and did incredibly well! I was soooo proud of her! Mish and I went to the 24 mile mark and spent a couple hours in the rain cheering on random people (who mostly seemed to be named Dave, Chris, Steve (with Steve-o being a popular variation) and Mike. We were at risk of being blocked from seeing the road by rude umbrella lady (who insisted it was pouring even when the rain had stopped) but in the nick-of-time we saw our Ashley go running past...claiming she was going to die. We, being the supporting friends we are said "No you're not. Just keep running". See, years of counselling training have clearly paid off. At any rate, apparently she hit the wall at mile 18, but she still looked pretty good to us! The last time I saw her (Sunday night after a great pub dinner with her parents and a few friends) she was displaying the proud marks of a marathon runner - an agonizing looking hobble, and the "backwards down the stairs" manoevre we've all heard so much about. I'll leave out the details of Monday's report of how her toenails looked, but just to say I have even more respect for her now! I wish I had pictures. I was doing the video and Mish was doing pictures, but she came upon us with such speed that no pictures were taken and the video consists mostly of her back and me saying "Wow - we almost missed her"

Oh yes, and I saw James Cracknell too!

All this has inspired me to get running again...once my knee's better. But I had an appointment this morning and the physiotherapist said he doesn't need to see me for another two weeks now, and he said I should be up and running again in about 3-4 weeks (as long as I keep doing my exercises and tape my knee the first times out again) Yaaaaayyyyyy!!!!!!

One of my friends...

..ran a "find" over my blog and was shocked to see her name was only mentioned four times, considering we speak pretty much every day and hang out regularly. I won't mention any names.

Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley Ashley

I assure all of you that times mentioned is not indicative of the degree you're appreciated... :)

Oh, what a sap I am!

I decided that if I want Annual Leave time this year at Christmas (having worked the last two) I'd better be super keen and get my request in now...

So, booking early for the couple weeks before Christmas was only £441. I haven't booked it yet (better make sure mom and dad want me) but I got "I'll be home for Christmas" going through the brain and I got all teary - oh I can feel it happening again! I'm going to see snow (I hope) and experience proper cold weather (I'm becoming soft over here) and eat mommy's Grandma S's stew recipe...and decorate german biscuits and see the Christmas Tree decorations we all made when we were little and hear mom singing "here comes Santa Clause" and have a Christmas beer with dad and have Sarah and Matt arrive home on perfectly coordinated time schedules into Belleville and go pick them up at some insanely early hour from the train and have Sarah make wondeful Turkey Soup with the leftovers and have Matt bring his Cheapass Board games home and then go up to camp for New Years (well, perhaps...don't mean to invite myself, Zoic) and it will be sooooo nice! I was excited to the point of just having sent an email to my parents, I then sent one to my manager and signed it "Love, J"

But it's only April.

In other news, Easter this past weekend was amazing! My dear friend Patrik came to visit from Sweden. It was grand to see him again! We chatted and wandered and sang (My favourite is when he sings me "Give me Hope Johanna"...never mind that it's actually an anti-apartheid song!) and I was introduced to the world of Quorn, and he was introduced to the world of Borough Market (and even the "feathers and fur" section, bless him). Ashley and Anna came around for Easter Lunch (and Patrik and I turned about 20 minutes of conversation into a musical and I think poor Ashley was about to kill us...but we all know how I wish life could be a musical...we made it rhyme and everything!), I added more Swedish to my vocabulary: "here", "there", "What?" "Is my Swedish really that bad" and "Six salmon in a salmon box" and we sang Beatles songs (with a brief tribute to Simon and Garfunkle) all the way to the airport on Monday. I wish I could post videos (I must figure that out) so that you all could witness a performance of Give me Hope... but these photos below will have to do for now... (and Ashley, I'm sorry I don't have a picture of you to post here, but you featured in the videos instead!)



Lunch at the National Gallery


A night out with the Flatmate and Sigrid



A Whiz with the guitar...

How does one recover?

I've just heard the unimaginable...

I was plugging away at my end of year report listening to CBC2 (which is the same type of station as BBC3, to put it into context for some of you) and somehow, Andrea Ritouski (the announcer) got her words all mixed up and out popped the bad word to end all bad words...the one you'd never hear on CBC, or BBC...or anywhere else really. I was shocked and wondering how she'd recover, but in calm CBC style she said "I'm sorry - I meant 'The final cut of the ninth'"

There's CBC elegance for you.

The Big Update

Sorry to all of you who have been emailing me asking where my updates are. They're all in my brain, I'm afraid. Had I internet access they'd be here, but as per Feb 14th's post, the internet is something I have to wait patiently for.

The past few weeks have been busy. In life, at work, etc, etc, etc. As the writers among you will know, business and (dare I say, for fear that the Parental Unit will worry) stress leads to non-updates. No worries though - the stress will subside once we are back to being full staffed at work, and my reports are in and funding is applied for (and even better still, obtained!) Hey, I'd still think I'd prefer this to trading fruit and vegetables!

The NLC concert on Saturday was great (according to my little group of loyal fans who came - bless them!) and next week we're full-on into Mozart's Requiem - I'm really excited by this one! My dear little Swedish Brother is coming down for Easter Weekend (note Patrik: with Bilar, if you please!) and I'm really looking forward to the weekend with him. My Swedish is rusty though, so I'd better practice up a bit! Danni and I are (hopefully) off to France for a day so that I can try out my Residents Permit in my passport and that's about it really...

What else can I say? I had a profound thought about one of the tracks on a Massive Attack Album, but I've since forgot what it was, and I'm saving up for my splurge of the month - the new Zutons is coming out soon. Hooray!

So, that's it. I promise to write all witty thoughts etc in my Moleskine for ease of transfer in the future....

How anticlimactic was this one, eh chaps?

Until later...

Joanna

PS I know someone who has a Moleskine but doesn't use it because he can't find anything important enough to put into it. I thought that was tragic...

Rite of Spring

No, I won't sing Stravinsky at you all!

I needed a bit of a pick-up over the weekend, so I went out and took pictures of spring. Here are a few (I'll add more when I have the time and/or inclination)












Spring is so wonderful in this country!

Almost Famous!

Tomorrow photographers from the Guardian are coming to take pictures of our Centre and our carers for a feature they're doing in a couple months. Guess who has the day off though.

AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!!!! I can't believe I'll miss it!

Oh well, a lie-in and nice breakfast are more valuable to me at this time than my face splashed all over the National Press - hee hee!

And I Will Remain!!!!

The Flatmate isn't in at work today, but I needed to phone to ask her a couple of things. While we were on the phone the doorbell rang and it was the postman with a recorded delivery package for me...from the Home Office...with my passport inside and a lovely letter that says that my application for Limited Leave to Remain has been approved.

She said my passport looks very impressive - there's a new page with my glossy picture and a hologram thingie overtop of it with an embossed stamp of the Home Office and that the page says (something to the effect of) "Residence Permit - Limited Leave to Remain - No Recourse to Public Funds - Can seek employment as permitted by Home Secretary" (or something). How exciting!

Saturday Morning Concert Series

I keep meaning to invite you all to the Saturday Morning Concert Series:

Artist: Janis of Finchley. (Janis is known flat-upstairs wide for her Soulful Renditions of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", "Leaving on a Jetplane", "Dream, Dream, Dream" and my personal favourite "Bridge Over Troubled Water")

Venue: The Parish Lockup

Price: Free (please note, the view is restricted by a floor that may obstruct the view of her living room)

Time: Sometime between 9:00 and 10:00 a.m. She commences sort of as the spirit leads her...we suppose...

My first solo half-pint experience

Today was one of those days whereby I had to get out of the office for lunch or I'd scream, but due to a bit of a staff shortage, I only had half an hour. Coffee Republic was too far and I had a couple of cards I wanted to write, so I decided to pop to the pub next door for a quick half. It was lovely! They had lovely mellow music playing and I sat at a table by the window in the sunshine and had a lovely half pint and got my cards written. I think I might do that more often. I'd never done the solo-beer thing before...22 months on and I'm still having British firsts!

Danni's School of Speech Therapy

Scene: Monday night, watching Top of the Pops at Danni's

Danni: I think that announcer has a speech impediment

Me: I think that's an American accent actually

Danni: Oh yeah, you're right.

An ecologically sound way to ruin the environment

Today I was walking up the street and witnessed some neighbours struggling to back their oversized SUV out of their driveway onto the tiny car-lined street on which we live. As I was grumbling my usual anti-SUV thoughts to myself I noticed their eco-friendly hybrid car was charging in their driveway.

I've noticed the monster and the hybrid sitting, like two strips of parallel bacon, side by each in the driveway before and it makes me wonder each time.

Well, I suppose they're trying to do their bit.

Happy Friendaversary!!!!

Yesterday I was looking though some files at work and realised that my friend Drew and I had met each other one whole year ago in the oddest of places.

Never, as I walked into a session on Advocacy Training at Carers UK feeling tired and suffering with flu-remains, did I imagine I'd meet someone who worked for a different branch of the same little-known charity and who would go on to become one of the topsest friends one could ask for!

Three cheers for Drew!



Drew, the King of Camberwell!

More Roma

And they continue...

We were delighted to find these toilets on the roof of the Basillica. We felt even more delighful singing "The Throne in Rome stays mainly on the Dome" in the cold, pouring rain!






Despite the blatant act of vandalism, we thought the "Carla ti amor" on the green bridge (not as noticeable in the picture here) was very romantic. I wonder how Carla felt when she saw it from the top of the Dome of St Peter's! (Note to annomymous web admirer- and I know there must be one somewhere - I am not impressed by vandalism!)

That beautiful famous bridge in Florence. I had always imagined it would have lots of stores that sold chocoate and wooden things, but sadly it was all jewellry. Oh well...next time perhaps!

The beautiful hills of the Chianti region (beautiful weather too, eh?) and St Peter's in the distance at night. I lost patience with trying to make this page work properly!!!





I think I'll leave the commentary and picture posting there for now, as blogger's doing my head in!

Roma Remembered

As promised...the pictures...with commentary... ah, there had to be a catch!


My dad as Julius Ceasar (playing dead at the location in Ceasar's forum where he was killed) You see...it runs in the family (acting...not dying...)


A small part of Ceasar's Forum


Dad and Anna patiently queuing at The Vatican (I think we were the most annoyingly happy queuers ever!)



Dad and I refreshing ourselves at one of Rome's many wonderful springwater fountains at the bottom of the steps to our hotel




St Peter's Basillica



A self-portrait of three happy tourists after a day of roaming in Rome!

St Peter's Square from the top of St Peter's Dome...

Blogger is being disagreeable today, so I'll have to put the rest of them in another post I think (might help...who knows!)

Unfortunately, some roads lead out again...

On our last night in Rome I discovered why it is that I've heeded my father's (yes, and mother's) warning and have been faithfully keeping my valuables in my money belt this whole trip. Just as I was thinking to myself about how Lauren and I hadn't witnessed any pickpocketers this trip (despite several warnings) and had been quite lucky, some Italian lady on the sidewalk behind us hollered and we turned around to witness her slapping some kid and shouting at him, only to discover she had foiled some kid's attempt at pickpocketing Lauren. Stupid kid. Anyways, Lauren didn't have any valuables in that bit of her purse and she had actually felt something and was about to look, but we were both surprised at how quickly these things can happen and how young the kids start their chosen career. So, as silly as it may seem sometime, it really doesn't hurt to sport the trendy 2006 model of the belt! The kid would have gotten away with zippo (save maybe a bit of used kleenex) if he had dipped his grimey fingers into my bag!

We had a lovely trip back from Florence. We didn't make any friends on the way home, but I cried over a Dickens novel for much of the trip (who knew it would be so sad!) We've explored the Trastavere area this evening and had dinner at a lovely place at Piazza Novena (or whatever it's called...tourist fatique is beginning to set in!)

Actually, I felt very proud of myself this evening when I realized that I had a bit of a conversation with a man in Italian without even thinking about it. It was very small, but at least my intial reaction wasn't English!

We're attempting a hostel again for our last night, although we both wonder if we're getting too old for them. Despite having to wait for 40 mins for our room to be ready (at 3:00 pm) today it seems OK. And we're on the 4th floor, so hopefully the loud obnoxious music coming from the bar on the ground floor won't keep us up too late. Gosh, we really are old. Or maybe just really tired. Or maybe both.

At any rate, just as all roads lead to Rome, sadly, there are a few that lead out of it too, and I'm afraid I'll be on one of them. It's been great though! Pictures will be up when I've returned and have my ducks in a row enough to get them on!

Winding Alleys and Cobblestone Roundabouts

So, having left Roma, the land of ruins on every corner and blue-lit public loos, we embarked on our journey to Firenzi (Florence). On the train we met a lovely group of Italians. I was sitting next to the PhD student of a group of students (and another teacher) from Sardinia who were on their way to Florence for a science trip (we were invited to join them in going to the mathematics museum, but our decision of whether or not to join them was made easy by the fact that we couldn't find it!). In an effort toward making polite conversation with a bunch of Italian scientists, I told them I was the great, great, great etc relation by marriage of Lord Kelvin. Once this information was disseminated to the group, the professor got very excited and then pulled out the digital camera and took a picture of me and said PhD student to show the rest of the people when they got back (we couldn't figure out if they were from a university or high school, and for some reason didn't ask...) It was interesting meeting them, and upon their inspection of my phrase book, learned that what the book said was the translation for "Does this car come with comprehensive insurance" was actually "Does this car come with a helmet?" Goodness knows what I've been saying to people here! He also looked through the Mystery Moleskine with me. As it turns out, our mystery friend is actually an actor (or director,or something involving the stage), and it appears as though they've been holding auditions for actresses (hence all of the one-offs with women, I suppose). It seems as though they might be good because a lot of the stages he had listed in his book are quite prominent ones. He agrees though, that our mystery friend was a bit disorganized. Also in the book was a list of to-dos, one of which was "tidy the house". How odd!

I've also discovered that witty-humour (bordering on sarcasm) does not seem to be part of Italian culture. Upon explaining to the afore mentioned PhD student (I've since named him Raffealle since we didn't learn his name) that my great, great etc relative was Kelvin, I also made sure to tell them that most of the brains in that family must have fallen out in the ocean since I have no mathematical capabilities. He proceeded to be very confused and ask how the brains could have fallen into the ocean and by the time he figured out I didn't really mean it, it was so not amusing anymore it was embarrassing. Similarly, with our hotel guy here (who we've named Leonardo) on our first night we went out to an organ concert and wanted to make sure the area (which turned out to be 5 mins from the guest house) was safe, and were assured it was. When we came back he asked if we had any problems, to which we replied that we had to beat off a large band of thugs armed with machettes and guns, but fortunately our growls and threats of hockey-style hip checks were enough to scare them off. He appeared to be very concerned (and slightly confused) and said "really? In Florence? That has never happened before". We then realized our mistake and assured him that it was all fine, and apart from being confused and probably thinking we're slightly mad, seemed relieved to know Firenzi is as safe as ever. He told us he was about to leave last night (he arrives around 7 and doesn't seem to leave until around midnight) and when I said "Oh, you don't sleep here?" he again seemed very confused and said "No, I have my own house". I have learned my lesson. Although it probably means that the Italians just say what's on their minds, and have no need for underhanded passive agressive and otherwise approaches to communication, which really is probably a good thing!

Another lesson I've learned is that unlike in Canada (and much of the UK too) cobblestones is not synomomous with "pedestrianised area" I discovered that from the middle of a roundabout by the station yesterday as cars and mopeds whizzed past us. We were happily chatting away and followed some guy into it. I don't know what his excuse was!

Let's see, we met (what we thought was probably) a future USA Senator Candidate (why else would he, after having just finished dinner with his perfect looking family would he get up and say to us in the most middle-American accent ever "Ya'll having lots of fun with this, or what?"and his perfect wife then proceeded to ask if we were there on school break (sha!) while their spoiled children whined about having to walk back to the hotel and wanted to take a taxi. We had a pleasant little chat with them, and off he went, happy to have practiced his "random chat with the constituents" skills. We also met a guy who works on news for the CBC. I saw the CBC symbol on his coat and pretty much hollered "CBC!!!!!" at him just outside the Uffizi Gallery this morning. He had been in Torino working on the games, and he gave us his last two CBC Torino pins. We were very impressed!

I have also been impressed with myself for bargaining with a street accoster (vendor who jumps out at you at every street corner) in negotiating a 5 Euro umbrella down to 3 Euros) and for small talking with lots of strangers. It's a skill I want to develop, and what better time to practice?

Yesterday we went on a tour of a winery in the hills of Tuscany. It was awesome...I learned a lot about the production of olive oil too (they make olive oil as well). It's a long story, but let me tell you: never buy anything but extra virgin olive oil (I know I won't!) I've brought back three bottles of Chiati (made with 100% San Gervese grapes) and I'm keen to tour other wine regions now too!

Today was Gallery day (the Uffizi and Academia - hence the long update to rest tired feet!). Seeing the David was truly remarkable. I had completely underestimated it, but it really does take your breath away in real life!

Florence is a lovely city, but the most unnavigatable in the world. It's made up of only winding streets and alleys and we seem to take a new route home each time. It's lovely though (even if people here drive like maniacs!) Some random facts: Florence has 400 000 people, and 300 000 scooters (mopeds), and they jet around like you wouldn't believe!

I think that's it for now. It's back to Roma tomorrow...

The Mystery Moleskine

Yesterday Lauren and I were crossing the road infront of Stazione Termini in Rome, when on the ground in the pouring rain I spotted a moleskine notebook (well, diary in this case). Being the moleskine collector I am, I knew that it had a space for the person's name and address etc, to return it. Except this person didn't put his details in, so we (and the Aussie in my hostel room) developed some theories:

1. He's been on an internet dating site (judging by the many names of women through it)
2. He sees a psychiatrist named Claudia the last Monday of each month (based on the fact that 18:00 Claudia has been on the last MOnday of Jan and Feb
3. He travels a lot for work (Venice, Paris and a few other places)
4. He drives a moped (taking his Viper to the mechanic was on his to-do list)
5. He was seeing a girl named Andrea and it didn't work out (she had three entries in two weeks, and then they stopped)
6. He's disorganized (he doesn't have any entries at all beyond March 8th and he didn't put his details in the front)

They went on, but I don't remember what else we came up with.

We had some light shed on this guy by some Italians we met on the train today, but that will have to wait. It's time to go eat some Florentine pasta and drink some authentic Chianti...

Ciao!

The Politics of Snoring

Last night I reentered the world of mixed-sex hostel room sharing. I'm not entirely sure I knew I was going to enter it when I registered, but there I was, so I thought it best to make the most of the experience. I shared the room with a lovely Aussie (who might meet up with us for a bit in Florence), a dutch guy and a highly illegal couple (everybody knows that 5 people in a 4 person room is soo not cool!) So, getting over having them both strip to their underwear and hop into bed, we had to deal with the guy's outrageous snoring all night. It was unbelievable. I honestly don't think I've heard anything like it in my life! The Dutch guy and Aussie girl were outraged all night (I slept through most of it), until 6:00 am when I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. The Aussie who's staying another couple of nights said that she wouldn't have minded so much...if he didn't snore. So she reported them, and they got booted out (or so it seems since when I returned from breakfast they were gone). So, if you ever decide to smuggle another person into your bed in a hostel, make sure neither of you snores!

Italia!

For some reason blogger.com is Italian in Italy, but hey, ho, it makes it an adventure!

I'm just having a bit of a "down" afternoon to recharge my batteries. My dad left this morning (boo hoo) and I'm meeting up with Lauren this evening. I thought it would be a good time to do a few postcards (my favourite is the one of Pope Jean Paul II arising Spirit-like above the Vatican. It reminded me of the part in Ghostbusters when you first see the Staypuff Marshmellow Man descending upon New York City. I'm currently in the internet room at the hostel. It's a sure step back to Steerage Class from where I have been staying. All things considered though, this is still a pretty good place.

My first few days in Italy have been fantastic. I have decided that Rome probably has the most relaxed security ever. I was waved through customs...literally...I didn't even stop walking as I waved my passport in the general direction of the man sitting behind the desk (I fart in your general direction - ha ha!) and it was so un-customs like that I didn't even realize it was customs until I was out at the luggage area. Who knew?! Annoyingly, I didn't even get a stamp. Don't the Roman authorities know that half the purpose of travelling is to get a stamp? I'll have to make my own! BYOPS Bring your own passport stamp!

My time with dad was absolutely wonderful. We roamed the streets of Rome, ate Gelato, and poor dad was "Mamma Mia!!!!"ed at by a lady in her restaurant after he failed to shut a door properly. I didn't know Italians actually said that! We wandered through the forum where dad very obligingly pretended to be dead at the place where Julius Ceasre was killed, and we wandered up and down several little streets and alleys in Centico Storico.

Gosh, I don't want this to become long and drawn out, so I'll just finish by saying that today Anna and I climbed the stairs (well, we had to take the lift part way because of my bad knee) to the dome of St Peter's and on our way out there was a loo on the roof (a true God send) and we're very excited to be able to tell our friends that we've used the loo on the roof of the biggest church in the world. And for all of you "My Fair Lady" fans, we realized that "The throne in Rome stays mainly on the dome".

More when I have pictures to go along with the commentary! Oh yes, you're excited. I can tell already!

Aeroporta!

On my way to Italy... killing five mins at Stansted and have always thought this seems a very fun thing to do...

Really expensive though...good thing I type fast!

Next report...from Roma!

The Closeness of British Ice Hockey

I realized that I haven't put up more shots from the hockey game last week, and since our workplace is doing a massive computer cleanup, I thought I should do that today, before I have to delete them. So, without further ado...

For those of you who are accustomed to going to hockey games and sitting a full kilometre from the ice, you will note with envy just how close to the players and ice we are in such games. It's all very exciting, and I've converted my friends who went with me to the sport!


The players...

The Converts: Drew, David (the Londoners), Sandy (the Aussie) and Ashley (Ashley's Canadian, so was already a believer!)

Some Hopeful News?

This was on cbc.ca this morning about the hostages in Iraq...

http://www.cbc.ca/story/canada/national/2006/02/20/hostages060220.html

Please continue to hope and pray for Jim and company's safe return and for his (their) family and friends in Canada (and worldwide) who are always awaiting more news.

Career Change

I was having lunch with another Canadian-raised person on Sunday, and we were examining a bit of packaging with that mysterious "by appointment of her Majesty the Queen" symbols on it, and were wondering just how that comes about, and how the products to put that stamp on are approved. I reached the conclusion that surely the Queen can't test all of these products herself (otherwise she would become very tubby, and besides, how then would she find the time to do important Queeny things like cut ribbons at ceremonies and the like?) so she must have a panel of people who do these things for her, and if so, I would like to be on that panel!

I've decided that it's not good enough to sit and speculate, so I did a quick google search and this is what I've found. It's called a Royal Warrant. It looks like I'll have to cozy up to Lord Chamberlain if I want to award these things, and that it will be a short-lived career as I can only appoint one. Well, it was a nice thought, anyways.

Want to poo? You'll need a 12 month contract

So, The Flatmate brought her computer back from Germany and now we want to get Broadband. We called a couple providers and we, being honest people, told them we're only going to be there until August, and were told that a 12 month contract is required. How annoying. England is such an anal country. I'm surprised that they don't make people sign 12 month contracts to poo.

Perhaps getting a laptop that can do wireless and stealing our neighbours signal (as we discovered is possible when Natalie was visiting) is the best route to go. *argh*

(Please note, I don't think we'd actually do that...)

Mystery Workaholic Man

When I first moved here, my cousin Trevor gave me a very valuable solution for when I felt slightly lonely/homesick**; and that was to do something productive (at least I think he told me that....or did I figure it out myself?) at any rate, having missed my brother's phone call this morning and it being a rainy day today, I spent a lot of time cleaning up my files and (as Katrin once put it) "moving bits of paper around". I also wanted to take a picture of the view out of the window at my desk (especially as the tube goes by, because that's my favourite bit about it) and after trying various settings on my camera, decided that a night view of the tube out my window wouldn't work (short of hanging myself out of it...the window I mean...not the tube...) After several attempts though, I realised that the Mysterious Workaholic Man who sits at his desk in the window directly across from mine was watching. I suppose the many flashes caught his attention. I wonder if he now thinks I'm a stalker! This man, with the flat-screen monitor, has long intrigued us. We used to think he was an author, but one day as I was passing by I noticed his screen didn't seem to be filled with words (perhaps he's a bad author). We started wondering if he's one of those guys who makes a living selling things on ebay. Or maybe the girl thinks he's at work all day each day when he's really gambling online. He lives there with a girl, and possibly a lodger (not entirely sure though). What we do know is that he's about 30-35 and spends about 15 hours/day at his computer, it seems. He and the girl had a significant day a few weeks ago, because we noticed he had got a haircut, and that evening they were eating their dinner by candlelight (their kitchen is three windows left of the hallway where he has his computer, and one to the left of where the bedroom is. We're stumped on where the bathroom is. It must be facing the other side of the flat).

I wonder what he thinks of us. I wonder if he's made up stories about the two girls who don't always close all three of their front blinds at night (which we would, if it weren't for the lovely view of the Tube going past). I wonder if he thinks we're writers too, and wishes we could help him with his writer's block (The Flatmate and I once discussed putting a note through their mailslot inviting them for tea so we could find out what he actually does). It amazes me that we live 40 feet from each other, but apart from a common recycling and rubbish collection day, we might as well live in parallel universes. If I opened my window,I could probably yell "Oi! Mystery Workaholic Man!" and he would hear me (I wonder if he would open his window and yell back. I don't think so, somehow. He looks too distinguised for that!) Maybe he has never noticed us at all! At any rate, I doubt he'd ever suspect I've just spent the past 20 minutes writing about him...all because I feel slightly lonely and wanted to do something productive tonight. I wonder if he had known that, if he would have popped around for a drink (hopefully with the girl, as I don't want to be accused of doing anything untoward!) and what we would chat about.

Well, he has left, and I think I'll get back to my sorting. I'll be very glad to have it done.

And I don't feel lonely anymore. Thanks Trevor, for that little bit of advice that's helped me through many evenings of being three feet from a rat.

**Don't worry, Parental Unit. I don't feel lonely often, and when I do, it's just in passing. Nothing to worry about! But you can always put an apple fritter in the post if you think it will help. I'll heat it up so that it doesn't taste too stale!

Quotes from "Puck-Mouth", the aggressive Hockey Granny

I made hockey fans out of Drew and David (and Sandra and Mich, for that matter) on Saturday night. By far though, the most amusing part of the game was watching the lady sitting infront of Drew, who, by the end we had named "Puck-mouth, the Aggressive Hockey Granny" This was an elderly lady who, in addition to pounding her stressball and fists on the plexi-glass infront of her had quite the vocal additions to the proceedings of the Basingstoke Bisons game (which they lost) as well. By the end we started a list of our favourites:

"Why can't you play the bl**dy game?"
"All you have to do is nick it in - useless...."
"Pass the puck, you tart!"
"Boot it in the bl**dy middle!"
"Get it in then! Get it in then! Awww...F**ck!"
"Come on! Just get on wi' it then! Bl**dy idiots!"
"F**ck, F**ck, F**ck!"
(one that I won't type here because I really don't approve of the use of the word used in this context)
"Oh! You rotten sods!"
"Idiots!"
"You're total rubbish!"

And then, after Basingstoke lost the game and the crowd was leaving "Well, it's been a bit of a s**t week, hasnt it?"

And this was all in addition to a lady behind us we named "Anger Management Lady" who could yell above the crowd of hundreds watching the game. We think that people who are so passionate about the game should play...or at least be the team's Enforcers. I have no doubt these two could have taken on the entire Nottingham lineup!



The lady herself (I scribbled out the neighbour's face as best I could to try to be as ethical as possible about this...)

On Being Friends with A Fundraiser and An Accountant

Lisa and Alan, apart from being wonderful singers and terrific friends, are also very good at their
chosen professions (being a fundraiser and accountant, respectively). Upon lamenting about how it costs £335.00 to stay in this country, Lisa's response was that I should set up an account on Justgiving to help raise the funds, while my conversation with Alan (the accountant) went something like this:

Joanna (that's me): I can't believe it costs £335.oo to stay in this country!
Alan (my accountant friend): Yes, but that's the same as a TV license for three years would cost
Joanna: Yes, but I'd get hours more enjoyment out of watching a TV than staring at a Indefinite Leave to Remain Document
Alan: Yes, but we'd get hours more fun out of you.
Joanna: Hengh.
Alan: Besides, £335.00 for 5 years is £67.00 per year, which is £5 per month, which is only about £1 per week. So, if you just give up one pint a month, you'll have it paid for.

I feel a bit like a politician in that I've learned that one doesn't have to necessarily be bright, as long as one surrounds oneself with smart people.

Left to right: Lisa and Alan who take good care of me

Reader Poll: Sophisticated or Cop?

Yesterday, I was walking from Ladbroke Grove to South Kensington, and within 2 minutes of turning onto High Street Kensington, two people stopped me to ask directions (within about 30 seconds of each other) One to Laura Ashley, and the other to...I don't remember the store, actually.

I couldn't figure out if I looked incredibly sophisticated (in my winter coat and jeans) such that people thought I belonged there, or if I looked like a cop. High Street Diva or cop?


Hmmm...you decide!

Arise My Love

I've just come back from a wonderful weekend away of singing with my choir, The North London Chorus ("our next concert is April 8th", she added subtly). We have an amazing programme lined up for our next concert. But the bit I am really excited about is the piece we have commissioned for our June concert. I finally get to sing one of my favourite bits of texts:

My lover spoke and said to me,
"Arise, my darling,
My beautiful one, and come with me.
See! The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone.
Flowers appear on the earth;
the season of singing has come.
The cooing of doves
is heard in our land.
The fig tree forms its early fruit;
the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come my darling;
my beautiful one, come with me."

I'd previously been in love with Healey Willan's arrangement of it, but I daresay I love this one even more, because it's an incredible arrangement (it's the fifth movement of a larger piece) and because it will be ours!

The Keep Joanna British Campaign

Having just sent off my Work Permit application, I decided to start reading the Limited Leave to Remain form, and have discovered that the (choke) privilege of staying in this country will cost me £335.00!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Is it worth it? I suddenly really hate the UK!

Donations to the Keep Joanna British Campaign can be sent to...

Sent with Love

I sent off my Work Permit Application today. I have such butterflies!

I will await (for 5-10 days) and see.

There's nothing I can do now but sit, wait and pray. And start making backup plans just in case.

The time limit on these work permits is 5 years, and typing in 2011 as the length of time I'm needed seemed veeery long. I might as well stay one more year and go to the Olympics!

Something to look forward to

I forgot to mention; yesterday I was walking down the street with Katrin and as we passed a hair salon, I mentioned to Katrin that I need a haircut. She told me that she had had her hair cut at the salon we were indeed passing, and it had been the best one of her life. So, I dashed in and I've made an appointment to see the flamboyant, rather dreamy and wonderfully accented (as in he has a great Northern accent) Steven to get my hair cut tomorrow. I've never been so excited for a hair cut in my life (although I'll probably come out looking just the same!)

Yes Rich, this is where you put it into your mobile reminders, so that the next time you see me a little alarm will beep, and you can say "Hey, nice hair" Men. Honestly!

Happy Groundhog Day!

Today is Groundhog day! For those of you who are unfamiliar with this grand custom, the origins of Groundhog Day come from the pagan tradition of watching the weather on the day half-way between Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox. Later, in Europe, people watched the hedgehog as a predictor of the weather for the rest of the winter. For American settlers, there were no hedgehogs, so the groundhog was named the new weather forecaster. **

In only a few short hours, Wiarton Willy will be telling Canada how many more weeks of winter we'll be having.

In other news, The Flatmate (who is also a colleague) was on the phone with somebody who finished their conversation by saying (in a lovely Irish accent) "You sound like a real professional lady" which, in Germany where she comes from, means a prostitute.

Lining up my ducks (part deux)

This is an excerpt from an email that I sent to Danni, who had kindly inquired as to where I was at with a situation I wanted to sort out (I was unable, for reasons beyond my control, to resolve it at this particular moment). Just to let you know where I'm at with my New Year's life-tackle/sort out.

"I ordered a book called How to Be a Financial Goddess online today, because I’m tired of feeling completely foreign to the world of my finances. I’m going to spend a bit of time formulating my life plan, etc and I’m determined to get my ducks in a row (starting with a trip to IKEA tonight to get the necessary screws to fix my futon, some tea canisters and maybe a little shelf to put beside my bed in the little room). Somehow that all correlated in my mind, but the connection seems to have been lost. Oh yes. I am becoming a calm, sophisticated and competent individual and all of this will come together at some point. There was a book called Organizing for Dummies and it talked a lot about decluttering. My next step will be to tackle the drawers in my bedroom into which I dumped all the crap that used to be stored in that box in my room I no longer have space for. Cleanliness is next to Godliness, and I’m trying to improve on both. I’m learning!

I had a cross-the-desk mini-counselling session with Fiona today, and she advised me that I need to sit down, figure out where I want to be, and the things that I need to have happen to get there. I think she’s very right. What format do you suggest? A nice flow chart?

I also want to update my CD collection. Not only do I want to be a Financial Goddess, but I want to be hip wi’ it as well."

And that, my friends, is where I'm at...

The Piper is down!

And she's not just pissed (that will only make sense if you know and love "So I Married an Axe Murderer" as much as I do).

About a week to ten days ago as I was happily training for the 10K on Feb 11th, I started noticing that my knee was really hurting when I'd run, so I told my friend Ashley (who's currently training...or should be...for the London Marathon) about it, and she said it sounds like I have Runner's Knee (I'm making an appointment with my GP to have it checked out). This is sooo not according to plan. I, being the sensible one I am, won't do silly things like go running despite the pain and potential further damage that could cause, except that this morning I woke up and desperately wanted to. I suppose the good thing is that it's making me go back to the gym more, but oh! I want to run. Free...like the wind!

Oh, the plight of an elite athlete (hey, who's that snickering?)

My line of distinction

Hello from Glasgow where I've just found out from some relatives (my mother's second cousin) that I'm very distantly related to Lord Kelvin. Yes, that's Kelvin who invented the temperature scale. Yes, as in the "Absolute Zero" one. Pretty cool, eh? I have probably something like 1/1000000 of math genius blood in me. It must be the part that allows me to add 1+1 and generally get a reliable answer because my math skills don't extend much beyond that. Still though, Lord Kelvin, cousin of mine, thanks for passing down that little bit mathematical wizardry down to me. I'd be much worse off without it.

As a side note, I now understand why, when I visited Ireland when I was about 9, there were a huge number of men (and boys) in my family named Kelvin.

I can see clearly now...

As a result of this newfound piece of knowledge, I'll be sure to tote myself around Glasgow tomorrow and take lots of pictures. Oh, and go visit his grave in Westminster Abbey when I'm back in London. If you want to go see it too, please do. It's the one right next to Sir Isaac Newton. Seriously. How cool am I all of a sudden? Oh, admit it! You know I am!

Oak Barrelled Chardonnay

Rich and I have been taking a wine tasting course. Tuesday night we had the most lovely Chardonnay I think I've ever had (2004 Chardonnay Max Reserva Errazuriz, Casablanca Valley, Chile).

We're still working on refining our fruit identification skills a bit. Other people in the class seem to be able to pick out flavours like bell pepper, asparagus, celery, cinnamon, nutmeg and plum in their wine, while I often still think "it tastes like wine" Ah, never mind it will come. Except that lovely chardonnay. It tasted smokey and of fiddleheads and of cozy fall afternoons of being curled by reading by the fire with the rain falling and leaves blowing outside. Ahhhhh...lovely...

The Little Mommies Club

A couple of months ago I was asked to join a book club. So I did. As it turns out, it seems that I am the only single, non-preggers, and non toddler toting person in the group. I think I was tricked into a little mommies club, and after two hours in that room, I left feeling incredibly happy to be a single, child and fetus-free person. We played the "introduce yourself and say the highlight of your Christmas break" game. I went last. After hearing stories of "Little Jimmy pooped in the toilet for the first time" and "little Janey was going to build a snowman and ate the carrot that was supposed to be the nose (tee hee)" and "Poor Simon Jr had the sniffles and an earache" I debated whether I should lie or tell the truth. So I told the truth. "The highlight of my Christmas was, on boxing day, sleeping until 11:00, getting up for brunch, and then going back to sleep until 3:00 and then getting dressed only to go to the cinema". I was envied. I felt slightly cruel, but it was fun.

I'm sure I'll probably find myself in the Little Mommies Club eventually, but for now I'm happy wtih my freedom and a baby-turd free toilet.

I feel pretty!

Just to say, I think today will be grand!

I was on my way to the gym and opened the door to find three bottles of milk looking expectantly up at me.

Then I went to the gym, had a nice workout and have just eaten one of my favourite breakfasts. (with caffeine-free revitalizing herbal tea to boot). I feel like a million dollars (or about 454545.45 pounds) today.

Hooray!

And can it be that I should gain...

...my official pink British driving licence through the post today!

I had to jet home at lunch today to take The Flatmate to the place where her car is being fixed, and there it was. My smiling face on a pink piece of plastic that means I can officially drive in this country! I keep looking in my wallet to make sure it's really real, and sure enough, it is!

It's my first official piece of documentation with the EU stars and GB in the middle, and I'm so chuffed! I'd scan and display it, but that would make it very easy for people to stalk me.

Now I just have to find my Canada bumper sticker that I have somewhere...

Udderly Disappointing

I was over the moon with anticipation last Friday when I ordered our milk to be delivered to us each Tuesday morning by an honest-to-goodness real-life milk man (such as they don't have in Canada).

As of 8:35 am this morning our milk hadn't arrived. Argh! We were in the throes of despair. Not to mention that The Flatmate didn't get to have her muesli with warm milk!

No sir-ee Bob! There certainly wasn't any Dairy to Doorstep to be had at the Parish Lockup this morning.