Tuesday, 29 May 2012

communication, maritally speaking

I have sent The Worker two emails today.  Both involved offspring-related events and activities.  I presume this is a relatively normal activity?  Do other couples communicate using email?  I suppose they must.  I don't often email him.  I wouldn't email him a list but then again I don't provide written lists either.  I still live in the optimistic hope that if a thing needs doing then both of us can see it and at some point in time one of us will sort it out.

We do have 'departments'.  I don't do bins (internatl or external) or lightbulbs or anything resembling or relating to DIY.  I am not authorised to load the dishwasher as, apparently, I haven't been able to get to a good enough standard of loading since we've lived together which I think is now in the region of the 20 year mark.  Suits me.  I seem to have relinquished all responsibility for recycling and, again, I think this is due to the air of flibbertigibbity-ness I've been cultivating ever since realising that someone, somewhere has to do these things.

Anyway....the email thing got me thinking about the effect of technology on marital communication.  I have friends who seem to receive numerous communications from their spouse during the working day.  I get an ETA call most days (not always) but rarely an unprompted text about, well, anything.  Should I be feeling neglected?  Should I try to ignite some spark of marital texting?  Might our relationship suffer if we are not in constant communicado throughout the day?

Part of my reluctance to instigate such communication is that I loathe The Worker's ringtone.  He has a somewhat middle-aged blackberry and I can't work out how to change the *&^$ing thing.  It's a sort of two town squawk.  I hate to think I might be making it ring more than it has to.  It's just a hideous noise that doesn't deserve to be heard.  Unfortunately, it's heard quite a great deal but then thank goodness for that - economic climate and all that.

So, this is what happens when essays are finished and assessments are done.  There's a little more time on the brain as well as the hands.  I'm sure it can only get more obscure.

As an aside - I've been given an ancient loom which is looking for a home, preferably not our garage for much longer.   It's old and battered and needs some TLC.  Someone needs to take up weaving and it's not going to be me.

Friday, 25 May 2012

r,w & b

Will it ever end?  Entering a Tesco this week is done so at risk of being dizzyfied by Union Jacks strewn across aisles, smothering everything from Weetabix to dishwasher tablets.  I fear for those 'Keep Calm and Get the Beers In' t-shirts.  What will happen come a week on Wednesday when we're all a few pounds heavier and wishing we hadn't eaten quite so much coronation chicken and sausage rolls?

I'm not a party-pooper.  I'm looking forward to our village 'do' which is being ably and efficiently organised as I type.  I love a bit of patriotism every so often but, dear me, this has been going on for ages - since that wedding.  Two street parties in two years?  It would seem so.

I dreamt that Kwills were going to announce a pregnancy just to make the Jubilee complete.  That way, we can have another street party when the next wee Windsor pops out.  Might be a bit chilly on the streets in January/February next year but perhaps we can have indoor street parties in houses where they can afford to put the heating on.

So, here we go - paper cups and plates at the ready.  Will the sunshine last?  Will there be a downpour?  Will we all have a good time?

I should jolly well think so.

Rule Britannia!

Monday, 21 May 2012

waiting game

I, the autumn/winter lover.  I, the woman who loves winter boot shopping.  I, the woodburner lover.  I am sick to death of this freezing so called summer crap grey weather.

The poppies are from years ago.  My wild poppies in the garden (pinker than these) are still shrunken little seedlings, barely brave enough to shoot up from the soil.

I know this because yesterday I gardened.

I dug, I hoed, I forked, I transplanted, I sowed more pots and I built wigwams for beans.

It must be summer as I now have too many spindly courgette plants on the allotment, flailing about in the chilly breeze.

Why am I still wearing a cardi?

On a positive note, I have finally caught up with the rest of the Western World and started watching the first series of The Killing on DVD.  We started last Sunday as a replacement for Homeland but I fell asleep after the first ten minutes.  We had to watch the first episode again last night and, in the end watched three.  Gripping stuff. 

I recorded TOWIE.  It's my not so secret, guilt-ridden TV must-watch.

Friday, 11 May 2012

change of direction

The assessments are done, the sketchbooks are filled, the critiques have been made.  Apart from a little dissertation thinking and our actual feedback (they don't seem to be called marks any more) the college year is over.

A couple of weeks ago I was in Berlin, staying up into the wee small hours and taking myself to places such as this

Once back in dear old Blighty and the reality of three projects, an exhibition to finish, mock GCSEs (not for me, for J) and impending SATS (not for me, for E) had hit, I got up between 4 and 5am every morning.

My body clock is *&^(*ed.  On Friday, I went to bed at 9.30pm to get an early night.  I woke at 11.11pm and got up, stayed up working till about 3am and then went to sleep for a couple of hours before waking up.

I'm a middle-aged woman.  I can't take this.  Thank God it's done.

My job, it would seem now, is to slowly purge the caffeine and sugar I've been 'using' to sustain such high levels of artistic activity and to get back on track with my efforts to hold back middle-aged spread.

In short, I've got to get back to those projectforty principles and get ready for the final year.

Wishing you a rain-free weekend.

Friday, 4 May 2012

if you're wondering

Normal service may resume next week...