Sunday, 17 May 2009

Little things, all good

1. The weather has turned cold, so I got my winter coat out again. And found that it no longer does up.

2. On the other hand, I am wearing proper clothes again, instead of a ragbag of contrivances, and it halves my getting-dressed time in the morning.

3. This is due to the generosity of a friend-I-have-never-met, another slim midget, who packed up all her old maternity clothes and sent me the best-stuffed parcel I have ever had in my life. Next time I go on holiday I'm asking her to do the packing.

4. We think we have a moses basket (a free one, that is, because they're awfully expensive for something you only use for a handful of weeks, but very useful for those weeks). The baby up the road will have outgrown it before October, and when we've finished with it it can move on to another couple who are starting to think baby-shaped thoughts.

5. Actually, I'd quite like this baby to be a day late, which would make its birthday October the 31st. Easy answer to why we don't do Halloween, because actually, we don't. Not in a joyless, denouncing evil and picketing shops that sell devil's horns headbands kind of way, but just ignoring it. But it would make life easier to be able to say "no, we're not doing Halloween, because it's your birthday, and that is infinitely more important".

6. Over three weeks now without more than fleeting twinges of nausea. The sheer joy of being able to eat again

7. As a direct consequence of (6), finally putting some weight on. I'd been expanding merrily, but not gaining any weight, which seemed a little odd.

8. Also as a direct consequence of (6), drinking espresso again (only once a week, oh pregnancy food fascists, and it contains rather less caffeine than filter coffee anyway). I almost wept at how good it tasted.

9. Another direct consequence of (6), being able to get into to Norwich most Sundays to go to church again (hence the espressos, as Sunday morning buses are few and far between, and I have an hour or so to kill before the church doors open, which I spend in a cafe with a coffee, a pastry, and a book, pretending to be Continental).

10. I'm 99% certain I can feel movements. Quite a lot on Friday night, at a concert of early 17th century chamber music in an Elizabethan chamber. None at all during Eurovision. If movement indicates approval, this is a seriously cultured baby. If the reverse...

Sunday, 26 April 2009

Pretty Things

Not the wool (although that is definitely pretty - Fleece Artist sock wool in 'Mermaid', leftover from some gloves I knitted for myself a couple of years ago).

The needles - Lantern Moon Sox Stix (from Purlescence). Because my longer sock needles were proving awkward for tiny baby-sized socks. Yeah, very awkward. Practically impossible to work with.

Mostly because they're beautiful, and they come in a silk bag, and they're beautiful to knit with. And it took me weeks to decide that I was actually allowed to spend my birthday money on myself, rather than saving up for baby-gros, so when I spent it I decided to spend it in style.

There are an awful lot of utilitarian things in my life at the moment. Most of my clothing is held together with safety pins or contrivances of elastic, covered with jersey tubes to hide the half-zipped zips. I don't put together outfits in the morning, I ponder what still fits (but I'm not really big enough for proper maternity clothes yet). I don't plan delightful meals, I eat whatever doesn't make me sick today (and I don 't always get that right).

But my knitting needles are beautiful.

Monday, 20 April 2009

Whatever happened to E?

Enough of the distraction posts, or the being totally distracted from posting non-posts (because there was only one thing on my mind, and it wasn't precisely bloggable.

E is for Expecting
Somewhere in there (mostly to the right) is a baby of 12 weeks and 3 days. Nicely beating heart, very active (if stubbornly refusing to get into the proper position for measurements to be taken). Due around the 30th of October.

If I had been posting over the last few weeks, instead of falling asleep, it would have been a litany of "felt sick, was sick, felt sick again". That stage, fortunately, seem to be ending gradually. Now we just have to do growing and waiting.

Sunday, 19 April 2009

On Reading

This has been doing the rounds, mostly on LJ, and it's more interesting than the usual book memes.

1) The worst reading experience that you have ever had?
My primary school had a shelf of books for each year group, and one of my teachers allowed me to skip straight from Second Year Infant books to the Fourth Year books, which was where real books (as opposed to graded readers) began. Unfortunately, she left, and when I went to her replacement to say that I had finished the Fourth Year books (at which point I was still in the Third Year of Infants), I was told that I would just have to go back and read the one I had skipped.

How not to inculcate a love of reading. Fortunately I had piles of books at home, and we went to the library as often as we could. But I still harbour a grudge.

2) The best reading experience you have ever had?
Not the first time of reading a favourite, because favourites tend to attain that status gradually, imperceptibly. Probably the moment when I realised that I was actually reading Latin (in a poem by Catullus) instead of rapidly translating as I went along. I'm not sure I could do it now, because languages rust and decay.

3) Which book has affected or influenced you the most so far?
All good Christians should automatically answer "the Bible", shouldn't they? This is a hard one, because I'd answer differently every time I'm asked, depending on what's on my mind. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's 'Meat' has made a lasting difference to what I will buy and cook; Rumer Godden's 'In this house of Brede' and Helen Waddell's 'Peter Abelard' are responsible for most of my theology; Germaine Greer's 'The Whole Woman' taught me that I am a feminist; Margaret Atwood's 'The Handmaid's Tale' gave me the sanity to recognise things going wrong, although I could have done with working it out a little earlier.

4) Have you ever read a book that you got really scared of?
When I first read 'The Lord of the Rings' (aged 9 or so) I could only read it in daylight. And I remember reading 'Dracula' one very hot summer holiday, and having to sleep entirely under the duvet for several nights.

5) What do you use as a bookmark?
One carefully chosen one from my collection (a lot of Persephone freebies, some postcards, some embroidered by me or others). Or tickets, old shopping lists, receipts, when out and about. If there is really nothing to hand I don't turn down corners. I memorise the page number (I can remember numbers very easily).

6) When do you usually read? At home, work, while cooking, in the morning, noon, afternoon, before you go to bed...?
All of the above. My favourite way to spend a free afternoon is to take to my bed with a pile of books.

7) Do you remember the first book that you read?
'Roger Red Hat', first in the reading scheme my school used, on my first day of school. I could already read (and may well have read other books at home before that), and I can vividly remember thinking "this book is boring".

8) Which do you prefer - paperback or hardcover?
For practicality and portability, paperback (especially ancient Penguins), or old Oxford Worlds Classics. When I first started buying books in the mid 1990s not a lot of attention seemed to be paid to design of either hardbacks or paperbacks, and hardbacks were very expensive. They are much less so now, and there are lot more attractive books around. Plus, I have more money and less patience, so hardbacks are multiplying on my shelves (and when they are as well-done as 'The Night Watch' by Sarah Waters was, I really can't resist).

9) What are you currently reading? What page are you on?
'A Crown of Lights', by Phil Rickman. Page 107.

10) Do you ever leave "a mark" (deliberate and/or not deliberate) in your books? For example, write in them, underline quotes, coffeemarks or food crumbs and etc.
Not since A-levels (when we had to take the book into the exam). Through two degrees I worked with colour-coded post-it notes and index cards. This is why I can now sell the academic textbooks I no longer want for more money. I am just a little bit smug.

On the other hand, I read at the table. There have been some nasty soup-related incidents. And a few weeks ago I dropped Edmund Crispin's 'The Moving Toyshop' into a puddle when the bus suddenly turned up and I was fumbling for my change.

11) Does the title, amount of pages and the cover affect you when you are considering a specific book?
Title and cover - of course. That is, after all, their purpose. And I hate with a passion television/film tie-in covers (unless more than 20 years old) and will avoid if at all possible. Length not at all, as it makes very little difference to time taken to read a book (it can take weeks to read a hundred pages; I once read all three volumes of 'The Lord of the Rings' in four days).

12) Do you ever browse through to the last pages in order find out the ending?
Yes. And I hate myself for doing it. I nearly always read authorial endnotes before beginning the book, unless the author tells me to stop and go back to the beginning in the first paragraph (which suggests I am far from the only culprit).

13) Has knowing the ending of a book (example, through spoilers or a movie) ever made you decide whether you will read the book or not?
Not in the least. It's how they get there that counts.

14) Is there a book that you have read more than five times?
If I bother to keep a book, it means I think I'll read it again. Anything I've had more than fifteen years (quite a large proportion) has probably been read five times or more.

15) Have you ever been in an accident where the book was the cause? (for example, almost getting hit by a car when reading while walking, or having stacks of books falling on you from a bookshelf...)
Papercuts, heavy books falling from top shelves, falling off chairs while trying to reach top shelf, dropping book on head when dropping off to sleep after reading lying down, tripping over wile reading walking around the house, falling down the stairs while ditto...

16) Do you sell/give away your books or do you keep them, even though you don't like one of them?
I only keep books I think I'll re-read these days, and I cull every six months. The house is small, and it would actually be a real problem if I didn't do this. I don't always get it right, and the third time I re-buy a book, it stays for good. I often give away a copy of something I've bought for myself to someone I think will enjoy it, then buy myself a new copy. Most go to charity shops, but academic textbooks get sold - not because I think I'll make any money (I tend to price very low) but because it's a better way of making sure they get to the people who need them.

17) Do you have some kind of book system, where you write down what you are reading, have bought, will read, will buy and etc?
I list the books I own and am fairly sure I'll keep on Librarything (although there seem to be a few on there that I can't find and suspect I may actually have got rid of). Still a work in progress - I've done about half, I think. Last year I kept a list of books finished in a Moleskine notebook, which I am continuing this year. I also carry want-lists for myself and others, particularly of long series, to reduce duplication (there are between 58 and 62 Chalet School books. I challenge anyone to remember exactly which ones they have in a strange bookshop. Besides, some of the paperbacks were more butchered than others, so I need to know if it's one where a paperback will do, or if I'm holding out for a hardback).

Wednesday, 4 March 2009

D is for Dreaming Spires

Sunday morning strenuosity on the river.

Saturday, 7 February 2009

C is for Complete Lack of Snow

No snow pictures, because while England has been "blanketed in snow", we haven't had anything more than some unpleasant sleet, and don't look likely to get any either.

Not that I need snow to create chaos and danger. Invisible ice on an ungritted side road will do the job nicely. Now my legs are the same colour as my new tights (ie purple), and knitting will be somewhat limited until my shoulder starts moving smoothly again.

Meanwhile, Mills and Boon, purveyors of disposable romance novels to the masses, appear to be taking a Ronseal approach to titles these days (for those who haven't spent most of the last three decades watching ITV, Ronseal is a brand of varnish whose slogan is "does exactly what it says on the tin"). Where is the mystery, the poetry of love in "One Night with the Rebel Billionaire"? Although it has to be said, "The Prince's Waitress Wife" is strangely compelling as a title.

Saturday, 31 January 2009

B is for Buses

Not an atheist (or more accurately agnostic, but since when has accuracy troubled the British popular press) bus, but an Anglican bus:
Get your own here.