Sunday, 25 November 2007

Don't you want me....

The day before we retro-power it back to see the Human League! How many years can it be since they warbled their way into the charts? What to wear? Hope they're good, I've organised the trip. We shall see.

E's team finally won a football match this morning, I'm expecting great jubilation this afternoon. They haven't won a game so far so this is a new and exciting development.

I have much art to do today. I've done some work and sent off my practice hints. I live in hope that they'll be up to scratch.

Thursday, 22 November 2007

it's only taken 4 months

I've had a wee google and if you type in 'projectforty' my blog appears. Weird that. Anyway. Other stuff appears and I think I've been webtagged - I have no idea what that means. A random act of nonsense I suspect. I also wikied 1967 and found a link with all the things what ever happened in the year of my (and possibly your birth). Have a look

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1967

Also found an old guardian article '40 things about being 40' so that might be a longish post one day.

I also feel I'm digressing quite a lot from the initial brief of the project. No matter how much I'm enjoying myself, I feel there must be a plan, a goal. Back to the drawing board. Suggestions please.

A change is as good as a rest

As I'm a woman who knows her own mind, who's autonomy cannot be challenged. I've changed the font back to what it was because one of my favourite commentors didn't like it! I will, of course, stand firm on all other issues and be resolved, resolved, resolved.

Today I knitted. My dear friend H taught me to knit in Fair Isle. It was a process that I've always been worried by and found it surprisingly easy. I now possess an unworkably shaped ipod/phone sleeping bag but it has a very fetching checquer-board front and a rather natty diagonal stripe along the back. It kept me quiet for hours while my other friend J made bracelets. We were a proper little craft-circle.

I've just ordered a whizzy sewing machine, well, I think I have. It's part of my birthday present from my parents. A bag and a sewing machine. I now feel properly equipped as a 40-year-old woman. My sewing machine will do 265 stitches and comes with free scissors and a yearly free service for 15 years at which point I'll be 55 and won't be able to see what I'm sewing. The servicing costs about £80 per year, so, according to my accounting methods, I'm getting the sewing machine free, 3 times over! Not bad. In theory. I'm never quite convinced about ordering stuff online or over the phone. I'm never 100% sure it will appear.

I have a busy day tomorrow, early coffee, a fete meeting (yes, in November), a trip to Cirencester for work and pleasure and home for the weekend which, so far, doesn't appear to have too much sport programmed into it. I live in hope every 7 days....how did I end up with sporty children?

Tuesday, 20 November 2007

Font...

I changed it, not sure what I think about it. Might change it back.

in the deep mid...

It's 5 past 4 and it's dark. Dark and wet and cold. I like it. Very few things give me as much pleasure as weather-inspired houseboundery. The trick is to embrace the gloom and make your choice - stuff global warming and switch on every light in the house, or go the Jane Austen route and light candles, moving them with you as you walk from room to room.

Obviously, this is all very well if you have the choice. I watched the new BBC Sunday drama 'Cranford' and they sat in the evenings with 2 candles, 1 of which was left unlit to save on the use of wick. No wonder things moved apace on the invention of electricity. The population was in bed, bored stiff by 4.30pm on a winter's night. I bet that wore out the bed springs. What else would there have been to do? No Nintendo brain training or bad books to read. Oh, no. Just cold darkness and possibly a similarly freezing cold body next to you.

I went to college today and did some more silk painting. It's a very relaxing occupation but I can't make it look how I want it to look. It's too twee and dainty for my liking and whatever subject or pattern you use everything looks as if it should be in one of those shops that stink of patchouli and sell felted purple boottees. All a bit Glastonbury in my opinion.

I tried though - I managed an acid shaded target and attempted to quilt another design. It's quite good for my map/landmark project but I think it needs to be worked over using some other media. Get me, I sound like an art student.

I do feel, however, that all this visual art is distracting me from what little writing I ever did. It's time to rationalise. I have been warned astrologically twice this weekend. Something must be done.

Monday, 19 November 2007

am getting back in the swing of things

E's birthday and all has gone well. She's delighted with her presents and happy to be 7. We had to have fish fingers, peas, carrots and mash for tea, as chosen by the birthday girl. So sophisticated.

Her party went well. The entertainer, like my DJ was very assertive and told us exactly when to prepare party tea, when to bring out the cake, when to take photos. It's quite strange to be told what to do by a man carrying a raccoon. All went well though and I don't think we had any tears.

It's been raining all day and it's still raining now. That's what Wiltshire's like. Once the rain comes it stays for days and everything looks drabber and soggier by the hour.

Sunday, 18 November 2007

a whole week

The blogging is taking a back seat. And, true to my statement, that other peoples' dreams are the only slightly less interesting thing than other peoples' statements of busyness, I won't go on about why too much. Suffice to say that blogging has slipped down the list whilst other activities (and people) demand more attention.

I'm going to have to be quick as the new BBC Sunday night drama is starting and I need a little Farrow & Ball, costume entertainment to finish off the week.

It's E's birthday tomorrow so G is hastily wrapping her presents - the usual mix of supremely bipolar, male/female articles. She had her party yesterday and her father got to kiss a raccoon's bottom. If only I had the technology to put pictures on my blog - you, too, would roar with laughter.

I will, I will, I will blog more often.

Sunday, 11 November 2007

phew

My dear friend S has been in hospital and this week has been full of worries. She's now at home and, I hope, has fewer worries. I do. We've had a few weeks of bad, sad news from all sorts of places and it's made me feel very appreciative of the fact that, touch wood, I haven't had any of my own for a while and that everyone close to me is safe.

On the flip side of my deep and meaningfuls is the growing conviction that my life has become a pile. I have too much stuff. I've become a compulsive hoarder of books, magazines, fabric (yes, god, I must be 40) and projects. Too many things to look at and not enough time to look at them. There are whole areas of my existence that I just don't even see anymore because I can't. I can't bear to look at where I'm most failing - the garden being just one rather large reminder of my uselessness.

I've made the lists, I've tried to be more focused but I just can't. I'm never going to get the time to sort myself out. Life just doesn't happen like that for me. I'm going to have to try another tactic and carve out sections of the day.

I often wonder how important people with important jobs get through the day. I was rushing around on Friday wondering when exactly I was going to have time to buy some bananas when the governor of the Bank of England came on talking about the Northern Rock crisis and how he had to organise all that whilst deciding on what the interest rate was going to be. Thank God there are people like that prepared to do jobs like that. I'm glad there are other, more super, human beings who are happy to take all those big responsibilities. I don't care how much they get paid.

Thank God Matt went through on Strictly.

What will they make Letitia Dean wear next?

Why is Brendan watisname so irritating?

Is anyone else a secret Anton de Beck fan, or is it just me?

Thursday, 8 November 2007

bienvenu

The momentum of projectforty must continue. I've made progress but not enough. I have come to this conclusion as I am going to Paris on a college study trip in mid-December. I need to sort myself out and make myself chic-worthy and presentable enough to stroll around the city.

Yesterday, I looked in what I used to call my wardrobe but now refer to as the bargain bin. There are a few things I like and wear and fit but goodness, gracious, Galliano there's some hideous stuff in there. I still have a jacket I bought in Kathmandu, 14/15 years ago. I like the fabric, it's a bit retro and a bit graphic but it's the boxiest, squarest jacket I've ever seen. There is also a plaid shirt I bought in New Zealand which is scratchy, itchy and has sleeves that hint at bingo wings the size of the South Island. Not good.

I planned to go shopping today but I don't know what I want and the house is a tip so my mission this morning is to get organised, download some software I need for work and make a few lists.

More lists.

Sunday, 4 November 2007

a new era

R has made the broadband work. I am now wireless. I am listening to a podcast of Malcolm Maclaren talking about The New Look designed by Dior. I am speeding through the ether at a speed I never thought possible.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you! Not that R will read this as he thinks having a blog is tragic. Maybe he's right but I don't care because it's now happening 70 million times faster than I thought it was going to.

Excellent fireworks last night too. College tomorrow. All is well.

Saturday, 3 November 2007

bang

I love bonfire night. Yes, I know, it's 3rd not 5th but tonight's the night the local pyrotechnicians get their high visibility jackets on and terrify the local wildlife whilst delighting middle-aged firework junkies like myself.

I've always loved a nice display. I used to drag G to the bonfire on Blackheath every year, without fail, even the year we had a 4 week old baby to deal with. It was an obsession.

There has been an unfortunate devlopment over the last few years of having fireworks in the garden. This seems to me to be anti-social and always a little bit of a let-down, you just can't go 'oooh' over a catherine wheel nailed to the slide. It's not the same as huge spider lights flying around in the deep blue sky. And, anyway, I had fireworks for my birthday and very good they were too. So, we're off to one of the nearby villages to work on our chillblains and say 'aahhh'.

My broadband issues have not been resolved. My very good friend R spent halloween talking me through the process very slowly over the phone. I think he might actually come over and help me tomorrow although I daren't phone as I know I must have been very annoying and if you're an IT whizz, the last thing you need when you're home from working on some swanky programme is to spend the evening talking to a luddite like me. I only like computers if they do what they say they're going to. It's the same way I've always felt about men.