pinch punch

Some of us are still avid pinch-punchers in our house.  I always forget and am the pinched-punched.  Someone has to be.

I can't believe we're already two months nearer to the Olympics.  When will it end?  I can't even buy a chocolate bar without supporting the athletes.  It's doing my chocolate covered nut in!

If I see one more product or brand sponsoring the *&^%$&(&$^"*"^$£* games, I'm going to go all lentil and start buying everything wholesale from a vegetarian co-operative.  Not that I'll find one in sunny North Wiltshire.  I'd probably have to take out a mortgage to afford the petrol to get to the nearest supplier of wholegrain, non-branded staples.

I realise I am not seeing life as I know it in a particularly positive light.  I fear my recent toe trauma has left me ore than physically traumatised.  I feel proper narked as my Nan might say.  I may need to break the mid-week no wine rule and pour myself a drop of Shiraz.  Something has got to give.

On a lighter note, I actually had rather a splendid day - a morning spent teaching one of my very lovely crochet ladies to make ripple blankets and the afternoon at school, reading to the kids on National Book Day and then running sketchbook club which although a little noisy and sometimes exhausting is very rewarding.  Every session is full of interest and despite all the racket, some fabulous work gets done.  Two very different teaching experiences from my point of view but both a real pleasure.

the air almost turned blue

I managed to drop the lid of a large, oval Le Creuset casserole onto my left foot yesterday just as Granny was coming through the door to watch the rugby.

This was precisely three hours before we due to go out for an evening of much anticipated revelry and dancing.

I managed not to cry.

I managed not to swear too badly.

I found the injury peas in the freezer.

I remembered where I put the arnica.

I took some paracetomol and ibuprofen and drank several cups of hot, sweet tea.

We went revelrying and dancing.

It's a nasty colour today and I'm having to stop myself googling 'broken toe', 'possible gangrene', 'amputation'.  It doesn't hurt in the way I was expecting.  It feels numb and if I look at it I feel queasy.  I can move it back and forth but it's a rather scary shade of red and the rest of my foot is turning slightly blue.  Thank goodness I didn't drop it on anyone else's foot.  Those things hurt.

I might have to go back to walking and cycling.

Damn.

got to go

...it's the telly that's got to go.  Jane pointed out that my list was rather long for 40 days and 40 nights.  I agree.  I've spent the last couple of hours looking at my scribbly lists and it's perfectly clear that what I need is to make a little more time if only to sort out my lists. 

I've posted about  my lifelong addiction to telly before.  It's not a good thing.  I'm full of admiration (and secret scorn if I'm honest) for people who don't watch telly 'apart from the nature programmes'.  I don't know whether it's the lure of the sofa or the flickering light or the ritual of sitting in front of a cosy fire but, here goes:

My name is projectforty and I'm a telly addict.

There, I've said it.

Now, what?

Just switch it off and go and do something less boring instead - if you remember that - then you're as old as me.  I never understood the logic of a telly programme telling you to switch it off and go and do something else but then, I suppose, a lot of telly is like that.

Telly programmes about cooking, DIY, superscrimping, renovations, baking, gardening - all of which we watch at the expense of actually getting on and doing some of the things we would enjoy if we weren't parked in front of the telly watching some telegenic show off doing it.

So...here goes...my telly diet.

- no reality (telly that is)
- delete the series recording of TOWIE
- DVD boxed sets allowed but only one episode a time
- likewise previously recorded series of Spooks, The Killing and various BBC4 art programmes

I don't watch telly during the day but I pledge to avoid the sitting room until at least 9pm so that I don't flop on the sofa and stare blankly at the flicker until it's time to read my book for 30 seconds before falling asleep.

Wish me luck.

should, ought, might....

Things I should do for Lent:

give up watching television

I managed a whole week on holiday without seeing a screen.  Since our return I've been basking in the orange glow of TOWIE and the hilariousness of the Big Bang Theory

*

give up cheese

I managed a whole week on holiday without slicing bits of cheese whilst cooking and popping them into my mouth.  Since our return, I found a BOGOF offer and re-started this destructive habit.

 *

keep running and stop blogging about it

*

start gardening.  I can feel garden and allotment duties looming.  I need to get out there before it all starts growing in this unseasonably warm weather.  

*

keep crafting

I'm working and studying too much to find any time to make stuff.  Alarming.

*

make more risotto

Everyone else in the house dislikes it and groans when I threaten to make my favourite ricey dish.

*

defrost the fridge

There is an emanation of pong and it's a tricky one.  Not too awful but distinctive.

*

keep reading

I haven't read a bad book this year, I even managed Julian Barnes with good grace.  'Pigeon English' (Stephen Kelman) was good and 'Pure' (Andrew Miller) was fantastic.  I've also discovered the OUP's Short Introduction series and devoured the Philosophy edition.  Next on the list is Art Theory.  

Might need some of that.

***

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

What are you giving up/taking up for Lent?

in the loop

Yes, I'm sorry, another post that starts with my running exploits.  I ran for a total of 46 minutes yesterday as I trugged around a loop that starts in our village, passes through two other villages and winds its way back to my front door.

I took myself off at about half four, the first time I've run in the afternoon since I started.  It was very difficult to get going and I felt about three stone heavier.  I think this must be to do with several cups of tea and coffee sloshing around and about.  I don't know.  It took me a long time to feel comfortable but I did it and I enjoyed it.  I wonder how long it is going to take me to accept that I enjoy running.  So far, I haven't once resisted.  I just get my trackies on (and other stuff, obviously) and pop in those earphones for a little jogging moment or two.

My running month has taught me that there really is pleasure in small things.  Every time I go a little farther (I don't seem to go any faster), I get, as Phil Daniels said in Parklife, an enormous sense of well-being. 

I owe it all to Madonna

I ran yesterday - for ten whole minutes - in a row.  Without stopping.  A total run of 27 minutes with 3 breaks of 1 minute in between each run.  I'm sorry I've gone all 'show and tell' about this but I'm amazed.

I was listening to 'Confessions on a Dance Floor' - do you remember that album?  I think it was the one where her-madgeness wore big knickers and leg warmers in most of the videos.  I may be wrong.

Anyway....CoaDF got me to the next village and back. 

I'm a little stuck now.  It seems silly to run to a village and run back again.  I have an urge to continue beyond but if I do that, I'll be out for a lot longer and I think I'll be over-extending myself somewhat.  I don't want to get carried away and ruin all my hard work by getting bored or, worse still, injured.

Little and often has worked so far.

birdsong

Of course Birdsong won the competition and I stayed up till the wee small hours tweaking away at the essay.

The significant looks and moody stares of the former sent me scurrying for my laptop and I only saw the steamy bits out of the corner of my eye whilst contemplating Grayson Perry's pots. 

I thought Birdsong looked beautiful and I remember reading it but like many other novels, I can't for the life of me remember what happens.  I got a little bored with the romantic scenes of love and stifled romance but thought the scenes from the trenches were filmed beautifully.   I was amazed by the faces of the soldiers, particularly what's is name.  I could have looked at him for hours and not for all the wrong reasons thank you very much.

Whilst tapping away and pondering my punctuation, I half watched the programmes I'd taped about illuminated manuscripts.  I was surprised to see Malmesbury get a fair-sized mention although I was pleased to be only half concentrating as the presenter, as lovely and obviously intelligent as she was, drove me nuts.  I have a note in my diary to watch the programmes again, notepad in had so that I can count this as research but I think I may need to employ some judicious fast forwarding.

We've just had a delicious lasagne type meal made with rice by J.  A treat to come home and not have to think about dinner.  As the results of a home economics class it wasn't half bad and there were four clean plates.  G was given The World at War boxed set for Christmas so my essay will be completed with the sound of the Battle of the Britain in the background.  Military history documentaries are definitely a cure for procrastination.