I think I just rambled, Life

disappointing marcus aurelius

The stack of books by my bed is as tall as my bed itself. I’ve recharged my kindle and read it most every night. This year, I’ve managed to read 182 books. I’m not sure what I should do with that number. There were so many good ones, and some infamous ones which weren’t quite my cup of tea.

Photo by Caroline Feelgood on Pexels.com

I’m knitting a scarf – it is hideously ugly and terribly done and I am enjoying it immensely. It’s quite refreshing to just do and not be anxious about getting it perfect or doing it well.

(I hadn’t put my finger on my striving to always do things correctly and the ludicrous amount of stress that entails, until I picked up the knitting needles.)

A Suffragist Abroad is still being editing – the final stretch, before it goes to a beta reader. I’m going through it as though I’m the reader instead of the author and it’s quite lovely. (Bonkers, weird, slightly mad – those words apply too). Let me tell you, I cant wait for you to meet Vi and Mr. Sorrow.

you will definitely read it just like this / Photo by Life of Wu on Pexels.com

The UK is still in the clutch of Tier system and Christmas won’t be the same for many, many people. The stars are still shining though. I checked for you, last night. In spite of the clouds (‘the Milky Way is moving quickly’ was quipped with great humour) and the drizzle, the heavens peered down and two shooting stars streaked across the sky.

Work has been hectically busy. As the dad from Calvin & Hobbes would say ‘character building’. It’s gut-wrenchingly disappointing to discover that you can’t do everything and that you will, eventually, have a mild breakdown in your dressing gown one evening because there aren’t enough hours in the day and work has built up and up and your ability to cope has plunged like a heavy anchor in a turbulent sea.

(YOU WILL PRY PURPLE-PROSE METAPHORS FROM THE CLUTCHING FINGERS OF MY COLD DEAD HANDS.)

It’s because of that, the fact that you can’t really nip off to Mongolia and discover Genghis Khan’s tomb, and my brother having my sister-in-law dye his hair grey that … well, I’ve dyed my own hair. It’s now a slate blue-grey. Ta-da.

Granted, this is somewhat of an extreme reaction, but what can you do? (Dye your hair grey. Apparently. That’s what.) Sometimes, you react reasonably to things, you sit down, you contemplate life, and you sip tea. Other times, you simply don’t. You book a visit to the hairdresser’s and you agree for your hair to be more blue than you anticipated. Marcus Aurelius would probably be excessively disappointed.

I haven’t been a good Stoic. If I was a Stoic. Which I’m not. But if I was, I’d be a bad one. Life is full of disappointments and unmatched gloves.

The point of it all, I think, is just to keep going. To keep looking for the good. (And there is good. There’s so much of it.) To keep plodding on. To reach out if you do need help. (It’s not a weakness, you know. It’s wisdom.)

If you’re reading this (still?!) – I wish you a lovely Christmas. Even if it isn’t quite the usual sort.

I think I just rambled, Life

a christmas away from home

merry-christmas-2984138_1920.jpgThis Christmas was my first spent away from home, without family, and with the burden of cooking resting on my shoulders and that of my friend.

It was a little bit hard, but FaceTime exists, and so do books.

COOKING

On the whole, the meals that my friend and I cooked were edible. It’s been well over twenty-four hours now and neither of us have expired. We cooked an English Breakfast followed by a Sunday Roast followed by … nothing; we were too full.

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LIST OF (PROBABLY) HELPFUL HINTS FOR COOKING THINGS

  • If your muffin tray is rusted, just give up on making the Yorkshire puddings. DO NOT – and I repeat, DO NOT – use cupcake holders and put too much of the mix inside.
  • If you do this, bin it. Your Yorkshire puds will turn into Welsh ones – soggy.
  • … aaannnddd they will be like flour glue. Flour. Glue.
  • Maybe don’t use chicken gravy for pork. Doesn’t quite go._220206.jpg
  • Don’t get exotic sounding sausages. They do not match an English breakfast. You will bin them.
  • Don’t make cupcakes with no recipe with the remaining Yorkshire pudding mix.
  • Don’t overcook the cupcakes you just made.
  • Don’t eat the overcooked cupcakes you just made – they will be hard and they will taste like sweet bread with sugar granules and chocolate chips to garnish.

ENTERTAINMENT

With breakfast, we watched Four Lions which is a dark British comedy about four terrorists. It was not an overwhelmingly Christmas movie.

We both FaceTimed home. I spoke to my parents about drugs and life and witches which entertained everyone involved, I think.

Afterwards, with dinner, we partook of Pride and Prejudice – and, please don’t slay me –  but I’ve never found Colin Firth to be attractive.

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I suppose it is because the first time I ever watched him on-screen, I was quite small and he was just an ancient bloke on a TV diving into a pond for some reason unknown to me.

And then, I curled up on the sofa with a book, An Unlikely Duchess by Mary Balogh – which had STRONG AND MARVELLOUS Heyer undertones and so made me very happy.

And finally, we watched Spiderman: Homecoming with friends. I’ve discovered that I too need Captain America to be there to help me through life.

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so, you broke a nail …

MISC.

The house that my friend lives in has AMAZING acoustics and so she had a violin and I had a tenor recorder and we played carols and songs. We are going on tour soon – and will be bringing tears to people’s eyes. Tears of PAIN!

(I’m kidding. I just really love that joke.)

Presents were from as far a field as England, and as near a field as a Wal-Mart. We had stockings and opened presents like grown-ups. (I’m just kidding – we broke and opened a present each the night before.)

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Was I homesick, you ask? Yes. A little. But I survived – with the aid of friends, plenty of FaceTime, movies, books, and sort of edible cooking.

Happy New Year!

Life

christmas cometh

This is a random compilation of facts. Because Christmas is the time for sharing.

Aristotle Humperdink Archibald the Rueful Rabbit has taken up residence in my room.

aristotle

I’ve got a pile of unwrapped presents in the corner of my room. I’m doomed

Finding a new favourite author is a great thing. Finding a new favourite author is an expensive thing.

A simile is a comparison, usually with ‘like’ or ‘as’: She sings as sweetly as outraged cockerel.

A metaphor is also a comparison, but without the ‘like’ or ‘as’: His stomach was a bottomless pit.

The above facts may or may not be true. This statement could be indecisive. I’m not sure.

My writing is slow, like a glacier’s movements. SIMILE ALERT. So proud of my self.

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It’s disappointing, and I’m going to fix this, but I don’t feel very Christmas-y at present.

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The Christmas tree is amazing this year. I selected it.

Sleeping At Last have a Christmas album. I’m quite pleased by this fact.

Have a wonderful Christmas, my friends. May you be blessed and enjoy delicious meals and magnificent company, like elegant swans. c’mon one last similie. Did it work? No. Oh well.

Happy Christmas!