Silent Sunday
Posted under Silent Sunday
Archive for July, 2011
The one where I confess a sin
Posted under Books I love
I’m squirming in my seat as I write this. The words ‘I was wrong’ might actually have to come out of my mouth. That never sits comfortably with me to be honest. Still, good for the soul and all that.
In the past I have been quite forthright in my criticism of reading books in any other format other than ‘the right one’, i.e. an actual book with paper and a cover. I may even have blogged about how reading isn’t just about the words, it’s a sensory thing. I may, possibly, have been very critical of MrSpud and his strange love of reading books on his iphone.
Hmm. Funny how things come back to haunt you sometimes isn’t it? Damn you blog, for providing evidence of my fickle ways…
Two weeks ago I read three books in five days. But that’s not what this is about. I had a day of very, very long train journeys and I decided to experiment by downloading a couple of books on Kindle for the iPad (which, I gather, is on its way out?). I was dubious. I was so dubious I took my book, an actual book, as well which perhaps defeated the point. In one day I galloped through Caitlin Moran’s How to Be a Woman and I loved it. Encouraged, though shame faced, I quickly downloaded Tina Fey’s Bossypants. I don’t even know who Tina Fey is really, but I enjoyed that too. In a rush of KindleLove I then bought Grace Dent’s How to Leave Twitter and that was pretty good too.
I’m no book reviewer, and this isn’t a book review. En passant I will mention that Caitlin Moran’s book is absolutely extraordinary, it blew me away actually (once I’d got over its no mucking about straight up tell it how it is style). I have never considered myself a feminist because, it turns out, I never really KNEW what feminism means anymore. I thought it didn’t apply to me. Turns out I’m stupid. You’ll have to read it to get it. If you’re a woman, or a man who loves women, you need to read it. Hey, I read it in a DAY. I don’t give over a day of my life for any old crap you know.
But this isn’t about the book. This is about the medium for the reading thereof and I think you know what’s coming. I read the book on my iPad. And I really, really enjoyed the experience. I thought it would be a kind of clinical experience, and it is in some ways. But the convenience, the beauty of the backlight typeface, not having to hold a heavy book is quite beguiling. I’m ashamed of myself.
I don’t want to fall out of love with books (the real ones). I LOVE books, they do so furnish a room, they feel and look just right…I keep postcards and newspaper cuttings in them (well, I did when I read newspapers..before the internet came along…hang on….there’s a theme here). I would hate never to feel the weight of a good book, smell it, admire its cover and run my fingers over the paper to feel how it ‘is’. But there’s a place in my life now for online reading.
I have a half-read copy of The Tiger’s Wife by my bed. It’s been half read since I started reading How to be a Woman. Since then I’ve read Bossypants (on the iPad), How to Leave Twitter (on the iPad) and I’ve made a start on Home (also on the iPad).
Shameful. Absolutely shameful.
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Wordless Wednesday
Posted under Wordless Wednesday
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The School Sports Day one…
Posted under People I love
Ah, Sports Day…what lovely memories I have of my own Sports Days at school. Not. Who can forgot my record breaking shot put attempt (21cm)? Not me, that’s for sure.
Somewhat nervously, I attended Bertie’s first Sports Day and prayed that somehow he has escaped my ‘crap at games’ gene. He looked pretty anxious as he sat in his team, “Team Spots” (confusingly I dressed my child in Stripes. Fail. Also, I forgot to put him in trainers. Fail again.). Later he confessed he was ‘worried about losing’. Hmm, seems his competitive streak continues to be alive and kicking.
We started with that old classic: the playground climbing equipment (above). Start to finish, one at a time, as many laps as the team could manage before the headmaster rang a bell.
Next, the water carrying/hurdle race. A classic:
NB I’ve actually managed to put appropriate footwear on him at this point.
Ah, the build a wall, build it up..build it up..build it higher:
MrSpud and Diggy, cheering …’Go spots, go spots..go go GO spots!’ (repeat until hoarse):
Jumping:
Running:
Meanwhile Diggy and his new girlfriend were having their own races. Why should the big kids have all the fun?
Egg and spoon! Of course…what better way to finish…
And then it was all over, and it was time to add up all the points. And, despite his anxiety, it turned out that the Spots Team DID win. Bertie looked totally underwhelmed and not remotely happy. Turns out he thought they’d LOST, because the head teacher called out their team name last. A quick lesson in the tension building ‘reverse order’ announcement technique and he was, finally, all smiles.
And not a tantrum, or a record breaking shot put attempt in site. But here’s the PE teacher, having a moment…Okaaaaaaay…must have the heat…bit of sunstroke maybe?
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Made it…the sequel
Posted under Crochet
A little bit more hooky goodness to share … a collaboration between me (crochet hats), The Wife (photography) and some fabulous mothers (babies). A few people have asked if I make hats to sell, I don’t I’m afraid. I make them as presents and for The Wife’s business (Lyanne Wylde Photography) only. I get RSI and Crochet Claw too easily from crochet to start a cottage industry. Best way to get one is either (a) overthrow and replace The Wife or (b) become my Real Life Friend and have a baby. Simples! Though extreme…
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Silent Sunday
Posted under Silent Sunday
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Made it!
Posted under Crochet
I made these teeny tiny little baby hats…
…little pixie hats which crochet up in NO TIME at all … for newborn twins..one pink..one blue…from this pattern here on Ravelry. I made them to order for The Wife, Lyanne Wylde, for a newborn shoot. I made them … she snapped them .. the babies wore them. Whilst snoozing …
Made it. Quite proud of them. The hats, not the babies … though if they were mine I’d be BEAMING with pride. Photo credit to The Wife. Hooky credit to The Spud.
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How do I look? Loving my new blog theme
Posted under Witterings
It’s all a bit different round here, I’ve rearranged the furniture a bit, given the walls a lick of paint …. actually I’ve done nothing, it’s all down to LilicCreative who, once again, has pulled it off in spades. I never thought I would love another theme as I did the last one, but Genevieve has done it again. I think I love this theme even more.
A few little kinks to straighten out but we’re 99% there. The whole process, as with the last time, was very straightforward. One of the many things I admire about Genevieve (or ‘St Genevieve’ as I call her) is her ability to set a schedule and stick to it, whilst negotiating around me changing my mind and generally shilly-shallying. She’s a genius I tell you, a genius…as well as being a creative wonder.
So, this is is Chez Spud for as long as it takes for me to get bored again. I like it, actually I love it. Hope you do too.
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Twilight years…or ‘when you know you’re a grown up’
Posted under People I love
Mostly, I skip through life feeling blessed, content and fulfilled. Mostly, I can hardly believe my luck that my life – after some tough times – has worked out the way that it has. I never take it for granted, ever.
Sometimes, real life swings around and smacks me in the face and this is one of these times. My aunt, my mother’s older sister, is very ill. I’m her only relative, she’s a total recluse for various reasons and she has only me. She’s 6 hours away. I see her rarely, we’re not close and never have been really. She’s hard to love if I’m honest. If my mother was alive I’d be happily leaving all this to her, but she isn’t alive and it’s my issue to deal with.
So, grumbling and with ill-disguised irritation, I’m off up north tomorrow to try to get to the bottom of what is the problem and resolve a way forward. She’s in her late 70s, she has a number of medical issues and is in hospital but won’t be discharged until her ongoing care is appropriate to her needs. Apparently she can’t get up stairs, can’t care for herself and is barely mobile. She’s insistent she’s going home, won’t consider a nursing home and will ‘manage’ with her bed downstairs, 4 visits a day from carers, shopping being done by the Red Cross, cleaning done be a cleaning company etc etc.
I’m trying to reserve judgement but it doesn’t sound like it’s appropriate for someone who was admitted to hospital with dehydration having not drunk enough, who isn’t eating, can’t move around and doesn’t have a downstairs loo. Everything is ‘screaming’ that it’s time for more permanent care. But I know she will tell me she doesn’t want to leave her home, the last time we got to this stage she begged me not to put her in a home. I know she’d hate it, she’s a loner, agoraphobic…
But I have Power of Attorney which means, in theory, I can make the decision for her. Whilst she’s still deemed to be ‘capable’ I am supposed to take her wishes in to account and respect them. Who gets to decide if she’s ‘capable’? Me. That seems so wrong, the power given to me under the Lasting Power of Attorney seems burdensome in these circumstances. I don’t want to make the call, I want someone else to do it. The crushing responsibility of dictating someone else’s twilight years is too great. I don’t want it, I want to shut my eyes and block my ears and make it someone else’s problem. My mother should be alive to deal with this, or my Grandmother…anybody. Or I should have siblings to share out the responsibility with. It shouldn’t just be me.
So I am stamping my feet, scowling and spluttering ‘it’s not fair’ in sullen tones. I am casting around for someone else to shoulder the burden with, but there is no-one. It’s just me, my judgement and my battered copy of my Power of Attorney.
A nursing home is the obvious solution of course. It provides continual care and assuages my guilt at never being there for her. But I know that’s not what she wants and, despite my apathy, there are some embers of a closer, kinder relationship in years gone by. I always felt sorry for her, even as a small child, dragged around as my Grandmother’s companion. She never married, never left home but stayed home to be with my Grandmother after my Grandfather died very young. She never had much of a life, few friends of her own even. Health issues have dogged her all her life and haven’t made for the easiest of lives. Pictures of her as a young woman show someone rather handsome and striking, and during my teenage years we swapped lipsticks and nailvarnishes and chatted a lot about hair styles, hair colour and fashion. She was my sponsor when I was confirmed and, now I think about it, she’s also my god-mother. She’s not nothing. Before she was a burden, she was someone to me. And, whatever else, she is my mother’s sister and my Mum would expect me to do the right thing by her.
So I will drag myself up north for what I’m sure will be the first of many trips to try to sort things out. I will bury my irritation, try to remember that this isn’t about me and that, no matter how old and ill, my Aunt is still the person she always was and needs me to find a little bit of love and kindness for her.
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Twenty Four
Posted under Witterings
24 hours in a small clearing in our garden, as captured by a trail camera..from yesterday evening until earlier this evening..featuring cameraman MrSpud, a host of bunnies (spot them!…some hiding…some dashing…), pigeons, our gardener and…oooh…something special…no wonder our poor cats are getting a bit scaredy at night. A small selection of the 74 images, the camera is triggered by motion, in a 24 hour period:
