Regent's Park Open Air Theatre

If you're looking for somewhere to go on a date, I could highly recommend the open air theatre. You can have a picnic, drink wine throughout the performance, snuggle under a blanket, watch a play about marriage {which was a funny coincidence as Much Ado About Nothing is about the week leading up to a marriage, and we get married next week} and there are fairy lights everywhere and the sun sets behind the trees behind the set. Beautiful.

Cannes Young Lions Film

Sushi Party

{All images from Author's personal collection}

My favourite Foods I

{Images from Author's personal collection}

Goats Cheese Toast with honey & salad has to be one of my favourite foods. Melted goats cheese with a little brown sugar and honey; the crunch of the toast; the crispness of salad with a lemon, oil and balsamic vinegar dressing... this dish has all the right flavours and textures.

In fact, I like it so much that we ate it for supper last night with asparagus and then I had the leftovers for lunch today.

Musings

What's this? Two posts in one day?

---

Mark Frith is a bizarre guest {I was watching the Apprentice}. Granted, he was sat next to Ruby Wax but he spent the whole show telling Phillip what he was thinking. And seemed to rather miss the point. I know he used to edit Heat so I am aware that his usual audience is rather less intellectual than those that watch the Apprentice, but not that much, surely? He kept saying that Phillip was this, was that, whatever, when Phillip was clearly just distracted. And then asked why he didn't just admit that in the boardroom. I'm not sure Mark Frith has ever watched the show. He clearly isn't made for TV.


---

Went to a Rose tasting last night. Finally the perks of M's job have started to turn social. Anyway, we tasted 45 different roses and I tried to remember to spit not swallow. Each one might only be small but 45 x small equals more drunk than appropriate at even a social work event. At the end we spoke to the chap that organised it. I complimented him on the tasting. He agreed that the USP worked really well. I wasn't sure what he meant. Beyond the obvious that they were all roses, I hadn't noticed a USP. This morning, in the absence of a job, and with broadband mysteriously not working, I looked again at the invitation. It was the company with the largest rose list in the UK that organised the tasting. I presume that was the USP; didn't seem all that unique to me.

---

A TV producer friend identified the 7 ages of female drinking last week. With the exception of the Mum and Grannie phases I think I managed all of them over the bank holiday weekend. Oh, except the underage category I suppose {I have eye wrinkles now. I am clearly overage}. Yes, I drank beer in the park, supermarket-own label gin out of a paper cup at a student party, champagne, wine and mojitos at a European joint hen and stag party {much more tasteful than a UK version but a celebration all the same}, more beers and vodka and lemonade at home and of course the rose wines at the tasting. Rather a weekend...

Things which make me happy

10 things which make me terribly happy {inspired by The Rockstar Diaries}

1. clean sheets
2. afternoon tea with tea and scones and vintage china
3. laughing with friends over a dinner which goes on for hours
4. underwear shopping {or should that just be shopping in general}
5. talking in the bathroom with the almost-husband whilst getting ready for bed
6. the sun shining off the sea and the taste of salt when you lick your lips
7. drinking coffee and reading Vogue in a cafe
8. the smell of summer rain on hot pavements
9. play fighting with the almost-husband
10. hand written letters

{Image from Author's personal collection}

Vintage Hen Party Outfit I

{Image from Author's personal collection}

A £5 vintage 80s dress accessorised with topshop shoes, cardigan, seed bead necklace and lots of clutter in my sitting room.

An outfit for a European hen/stag party in which we ate tapas, drank mojitos and met all of the English guests attending their German wedding in July.

On Redundancy

The sound track to my life has changed. Instead of hearing the regular ring of the phone, the click of the telephone exchange announcing the call, I hear a howl of a lonely dog, brief snatches of chatter as people walk up and down the road and the regular hum of aircraft passing overhead.

Next-doors cat slumbers on my knee, thrilled to have a warm lap to curl up on. I perch my laptop awkwardly next to me on the sofa. In this new life I have no desk, or at least, not one where I can use a computer as the internet connection is behind the TV.

My to-do-list, once noted in my work diary instead scans through my mind. Where once my clients squatted, they have now been evicted, replaced by shouts such as 'new job'; 'de-clutter'; 'washing'.

Where once I felt tired but full of life, I now feel restless, anxious, bereft. Everything has changed. And yet, the only thing that has is that I don't have a job. Nothing else. Odd, isn't it? You think it doesn't define you, but, on some level, I think it must.

Things I Did...

...over the Easter Weekend. {I liked how Cate's post sounded, so I thought I do my own version}.

• Left the house for the first time in almost 2 weeks and got in a very small hire car with M, his brother, his brother's wife and my baby sister.
• Navigated successfully to Shropshire despite being stuck in the middle seat and travelling up the M1.
• Had a bizarre afternoon tea-style meal with M's parents, all the occupants of our car, my parents and my other sister at 11.45pm.
• Waved off my parents and two sisters in the family Volvo {they were off to our usual Easter residence of Dad's parents in the Yorkshire Dales - I wasn't going as I thought it best to not travel too much so soon after the op} which was a very odd feeling.
• Realised I had left all my underwear in our flat in London so had to wear a (new) pair belonging to M's Mum whilst we made a quick dash to M&S.
• Bought and then returned a grey cardigan from Primark when I realised it looked like the back had been through a roller but not the front.
• Printed 75 invitations with M's help along with 75 response cards and 75 maps.
• Wrote 70 invitations and envelopes with the help of M's Mum and Grandmother.
• Got up at 8am for 4 days on the trot despite it being a weekend and read two books whilst M played 4 rounds of early morning golf.
• Trawled the charity shops of Shrewsbury and purchased 6 dinner plates and some red and white striped fabric from which to make cushion covers.
• Attempted to have afternoon tea with M in Much Wenlock only for our plan to be foiled as they had no scones.
• Bought a wooden draining rack in effort to prevent M building crazy sculptures with our washing up as it dries.
• Attended a church service and smiled on hearing a special prayer said for our upcoming wedding and marriage. Surprised myself that singing hurt too much and tried to force myself to stop which was hard as I love singing.
• Drank coffee in the sunshine whilst reading the Sunday papers.
• Posted all invitations with addresses.
• Sat in a slightly emptier car all the way back to London.
• Had tea with Liz and finally viewed her Morocco and South Africa photos despite her having taken those holidays in February. Ate chocolate and helped her finish the crossword.
• Ate delicious stir fry which M and I cooked together whilst catching up with The Apprentice.
• Managed to go to bed the same day we got up for the 5th day running.
• Slept with bad dreams but woke up early and then it was back to work...

Postcard from Shropshire

Dear Little Miss Rachel

Do hope that you're enjoying the Easter weekend. My goodness, it is good to get out of the house. Much as I enjoyed my house-wife experience (aka sick leave) it's been nice to see something other than our flat and the garden. And talk to someone other than M, the postman or a passing friend.

M has been straight out on the golf course - what else could you expect - and I have been doing a spot of shopping since I managed to lose my ability to remember things when packing and realised I had left all my underwear at home.

Shropshire is green and wet. Makes a change from the grey and wet of London, although, in actual fact, the last two weeks have been surprisingly sunny. Got lots of washing done last week. Told you I was practising for impending unemployment.

Chocolate eggs galore to come, I hope.

See you next week!

Love,

Rachel

New Shoes

{Image by Toast}

My catalogue arrived yesterday. And then I went on a bus. Which went past the shop. So I got off. And came out with these.

Perfect for spring and summer and our honeymoon.

Less good for the purse. Especially since I am supposedly *off shopping*.

But everyone needs a new pair of shoes, once in a while.

Happy Easter!

{Image from Author's Personal Collection}

The Jenny Packham skirt. Rolled up at the waist to make it a little shorter. Rejected for this evening in favour of skinny jeans, converse and a t-shirt once I remembered that it may be a 30th birthday but the party is in Camden and vintage rose dry-clean only skirts do not mix with heavy music and rum and cokes at 2am.

The Best Job In the World

I wrote a few weeks ago about Holly (who is a close university friend of our very good friends B&C) being on the shortlist for the Best Job In The World.

Well, thank you to those who have voted for her.

But please - vote again, and again, and again (you can vote once per day) and help Holly get to go to her island.

Thank you.

---end of announcement---

In need of another party outfit...

Another weekend, another birthday. Another outfit required. A 30th this time, so perhaps a little dressier than jeans.

This is what I would wear if I had money to spend:

{Image by Reiss}

It actually reminds me of a vintage Jenny Packham skirt which I do own but is floor length and high waisted. Similar ruffles though. And pale coffee coloured, not blue. But maybe with a white t-shirt and brown ankle boots and a cardigan it might look ok. But where it is, I do not know. I shall have to try and dig it out.

Fire at Chancery Lane

fire, originally uploaded by rachel-catherine.

And the reason why I was able to get home from work early - we were evactuated due to a fire in the building behind ours and risk from propane cylinders.

A Party Outfit?

Jeans 2, originally uploaded by rachel-catherine

I think I need to work on my photography skills as well as my posing skills... Yet, for an image snapped in a mirror in a dark kitchen without a flash using a blackberry and then crudely lightened using a photo editor programme, it could be worse.

Sadly my jeans weren't as distressed at the front as I remembered so the look didn't work quite as well as I'd hoped. They were rather more distressed on the back though, which is why I required a longer top. Actually, that is a cardigan over a top. I should have taken the cardigan off to photograph it, but then I would have been even later than I actually was...

In need of a party outfit

Impending redundancy = no shopping.

No shopping = wearing something I already own.

Wearing something I already own is getting d.u.l.l. So I have been looking through my favourite style and photography blogs for some inspiration for tomorrow evening.

{Image by Garance Dore}

{Image by The Sartorialist}

Yet, it is a night in a pub. Albeit one in central London, for a friend's birthday. Can I wear my old Citizens of Humanity Jeans (ripped and old and faded and usually worn rolled up on holiday) with a pair of platform sandals and look stylish... or just plain silly?

{Image from Author's Personal Collection}

Or maybe I should just stick to my tried and tested outfits and use my time to look for a new job...

Dos Hermanos visits the WI

and writes about it here. Not quite what he was expecting, it seems. Still, I enjoyed icing the cupcakes and learning a new skill to boot.

I need a bedroom like this...

{Image from Design Sponge}

I think I need to de-clutter our bedroom a little... And maybe paint it blue too.

And people get paid to write this?

According to Shane Watson in the Sunday Times, by aged 25 I should have achieved the following:


- Achieved party notoriety/a groovy look — like Alice Dellal
- Travelling stripes (outside Europe)
- A tattoo or nonregulation piercing
- Have talked to a genuine celebrity
- Have DJed, gone out with a DJ or sung backing vocals
- Had at least one serious boyfriend
- Worked as a waitress/in a bar
- Proficiency in an instrument or sport
- Discovered your best feature
- Got serious about photography

And want people to say: “You’ve done an incredible amount for your age”

I am 27. I have a hole in my tummy button where I used to wear a bar until it got too annoying banging into my desk which was the same height (how middle aged) and I obviously have had at least one serious boyfriend given that I get married in three months time. I have travelled outside Europe and done well at things but it seems I have failed because I have not dated a DJ, discovered my best feature or talked to a genuine celebrity...

And what do I have to look forward to? Well, by 35 I should have:-

- Been head-hunted for a new job
- Been taken to lunch by your boss
- Been on a business trip abroad
- Lived abroad
- Bought your own flat
- Been bought jewellery by a man
- Socialised outside your age group
- Hatched a plan for your own business
- Successfully negotiated a pay rise
- Discovered your signature style
- Discovered the importance of women
- Established a shoe collection

And want people to say: “You could do anything you set your mind to”

Well, I have managed 3 of them. Looks like I have got a bit of work to do...

Seriously, I can't believe people get paid to write this. And in The Times as well.

London Fashion Weekend Catwalk Show I

London Fashion Weekend Catwalk Show I, originally uploaded by rachel-catherine.

Woe may be me, but help it not be Holly too ...

A friend of a friend is looking to get the best job in the world. You may have seen it advertised on the BBC and various other places. She has managed to get to the final 50 and we can help make her day at least by voting for her here. Thank you.

Woe is Me

{Image by W2 Products}

It is not a good time to be in my profession. It is a worse time to be coming up for qualification and soon to be redundant. That said, it is not a good time for many professions. I don't really know what else to do. I have been applying for every job for which I am suitable in my field in every part of the country. And still nothing. I just have to hope something comes along or who knows what we shall do.

At least this mug (paid for by the cleaners who broke my original one) is cheering me up in the meantime.

(Normal blogging to resume once I have a moment when I am not job hunting, wedding planning, in hospital or worrying...)

Spring has sprung

Spring has sprung, originally uploaded by rachel-catherine.

What a difference a month makes. 4 weeks ago this scene was buried under several inches of snow. Today sunlight streams through the window and it feels as if the world has woken up again.

Book Review: Iris & Ruby (Rosie Thomas)

{Image from Amazon.co.uk}

A word of warning: I think this review may give more details than the cover synopsis. I found it impossible to write about the book without giving away some of the details, so if you wish to read the book without knowing everything perhaps you should read the book first and then come back to the review and leave your thoughts then...

A lifetime of memories of another era, of love & dancing, of passion, of life and of death crowd Iris' mind, and confusing them with old age or loneliness she is consumed by worry that they will slip from her grasp like a cup and shatter, lost for ever. Ruby, her eighteen year old granddaughter, battling her own demons, some of which are expanded on more fully than others, arrives in Cairo barely knowing Iris, but eventually the joining of grandmother and granddaughter allows them both to heal and in telling Ruby her stories, and facing her daughter, Lesley, Iris is able to finally be at peace.

Iris & Ruby is narrated by Iris yet moves easily into the third person when describing events through Ruby's eyes. Memories of Iris in Cairo during the war are intertwined with episodes of Ruby's exploration of Cairo some 60 years later. It is an intriguing book and at times reminded me in part of The English Patient, partially through context (Cairo, the desert) and partially through the desire to ensure that memories have been told, voiced, images becoming real in being given a voice, before the end.

Iris' wartime Cairo seems at once glamorous and carefree yet tinged, as life in wartime surely was, with that steely determination to live life as if it was for the last time. It seemed an endless round of parties, cocktails, silk dresses and dances with army boys, but these descriptions conceal their harder, less glamorous reflection of the reality of a young women in love with a soldier, waiting anxiously for his return, filling her days with work and friends and airmail letters. Although reading the synopsis of the book tells the reader that Iris' one true love is never to return from the desert, I still found myself willing him to return. Even though I knew from the beginning that they would never reach their wedding day, I still cried when they didn't.

I don't think Iris ever did 'get over' losing Xan. I don't think, in actual fact, that you do 'get over' losing your true love. I think time and distance helps one deal with living. I don't know, thankfully, but that is my belief. I found it telling that Iris returned to Cairo, to a house where she had known Xan, as soon as she was able to escape her daughter who could never be the son she had lost. In contrast, the death of Ruby's boyfriend Jas was the catalyst for her departure to Cairo but her grief for Jas was not in the same league. Rather I think the incident Ruby touches on when she says "I don't want you to touch me ever again" to a family member is the more serious issue, as is the fleeting glimpse we are given in to her thoughts when she is at a nightclub with Ash: "She was used to trading elements of herself as a powerful currency, the dollar standard, with everyone from boys she met in clubs to Will (the family member). She had been doing it since she was fifteen. Only Jas had been different". Perhaps Lesley's grief in relation to her mother (Iris) - someone doesn't have to die for there to be grief, I don't think - especially since the issue was unresolved, had affected Ruby to the extent that she had begun to believe that she had to give something to be loved and wanted, that it wasn't an automatic right, and that giving her body was the only thing she had.

Iris' relationship with Xan was easy. Not in the sense of not knowing where he was, terrified that he would never return, but in that they both seemed to know, immediately, that they were each other's. "...That was how certain we both wanted and believed... 'I love you, Iris Black,' he said. 'Xan Molyneau, I love you too.'..." They had found each other and each was quite sure . In contrast, Ruby's relationship with Ash plays out in the same city but with none of the same surety. Even Ash's words are different "Perhaps I love you" he says. A product of a different era or an underlying emphasis that sometimes you know immediately, other times a relation creeps up on you?

Grief and relationships. Relationships between lovers, between mother & daughter, grand-mother & grand-daughter. Grief over death, of things that might have been, of people being someone that they are not. The hardest part of considering this book was the knowledge that next month I would be discussing it at a book group at which the author will be present. And that the book was deeply moving and is often concerned with the two things hardest to discuss honestly.

Peonies & Polaroids opens Etsy Shop

{Images by Peonies & Polaroids}

Look out for Peonies & Polaroids Etsy shop opening this coming weekend... Peonies takes the most beautiful, ethereal, whimsical photographs and I was rather excited when she started mentioning an Etsy shop. I wanted to buy M one for V-Day so we could hang it on our bedroom wall, but the shop wasn't open then. I mentioned it to him last night and he said I should just go for it anyway. The photo below is one of my favourites. I know I am a sucker for anything sea related but there is something very peaceful about this beach scene, which says to me childhood holidays and reminiscing. Anyway, enough promotion from me. On Saturday, have a look yourself...

Fire From Water

{Image by Peonies & Polaroids}

"...have a baby. You'll find it so much more fulfilling than writing..."

I have been re-reading Erica Jong's Fear of Flying this weekend in preparation for tonight's book club meeting. I haven't finished it yet but the above line is spoken/shouted to the narrator by her older sister during an argument at their parents house, an event which the narrator is recalling as she muses on why she is not deliberately getting pregnant.

I then was reading the Observer Woman's magazine which is not something I usually read (M prefers the Guardian and I prefer The Times but he won) when I came across two articles, one by Rachel Cooke "...conversations I have had in which the majority of the other female's sentences began with the words: "When you have a baby..." (which I felt echoed the narrator's questioning of her sister's superior complex as a Mother in Fear of Flying) and one by Polly Vernon (defending her choice to not have/ not want children - which you would rarely see a man do).

Both were badly written/researched and left me wondering why these articles had been written. Sadly Cooke referenced the infernal Alpha Mummy blog which meant that the rather irritating Jennifer Howze picked up the story and re-published it leading to the never-ending flood of commenters struggling to justify themselves and define their positions as mothers, mostly by being exceedingly rude against any one who had made a different choice leading one poster, Expat Mum (blogger), to question "Why, I keep asking myself, must women justify their own choices by slagging everyone else off?". Indeed, even bloggers who I actually read (and respect) like Potty Mummy seemed to imply that tasks one completed as a Mother were far more important than anyone else's:

"And whilst I'm on the subject, where are all the articles written by mothers on how their childless friends are incredibly boring, self centred, obsessed by shoes and living in their own me-me-me sitcom world? Oh, I know... There aren't any. Because we know there are two sides to every story, that it never pays to generalise - and of course we are far too busy cleaning up puke and wee to get round to it". Potty Mother.

As I am just four months away from getting married and potentially beginning the years when I decide whether or not to have a family, this topic niggled. On the one hand I am hoping to have children but I do not think that having children is necessarily more fulfilling for every woman than not having them. I do not doubt that for some people having children gives them meaning that they would otherwise lack, but others, I would argue, have meaningful lives regardless of whether or not they are able to procreate. It makes me so cross, this superior attitude that some women seem to show once they become mothers.

Last night, M and I were watching 90210. In one scene, the headmaster's son bashed his car into another boy's. Words were exchanged, a quote was obtained, the money was paid back and the two lads ended the transaction by the maimed car owner inviting the payee to a basketball game. This conversation was watched by a girl who at some point in the past had been betrayed by her then best-friend in relation to something to do with divorced parents and the then-best-friend telling everyone. The two girls had not spoken since and both were still clearly affected by the situation some years later. She expressed her surprise at the lads' ability to sort things out and he in turn expressed his at girls' abilities to hold grudges. He had a point.

Even in seemingly superficial and shallow shows such as 902010 and Sex & the city these issues are being raised. Do we as girls define ourselves only in context of how we are in relation to each other? Can something only be good if we make out that girls not making this choice are somehow wrong or bad? Why do those who are mothers act superior to those without children, even going so far as to infer that those without will only understand when they have children? (Quote: SATC - Carrie "but you used to buy Manolos" Kyra "that was before I had a real life" or something similar). We need journalists who encourage us to celebrate our own individual choices and to be happy and non-judgemental for those who make their choice which differs from our own. Not articles like those by Cooke & Vernon who perpetuate the circle of 'my choice is better than yours'.

The narrator in Fear of Flying considers what it means to be defined as a women and whether or not the bearing children is an intrinsic part of being a woman. Actually, her main consideration is freedom, as a woman, and for me that includes a choice whether or not to have children. Yet I think it is worth considering how the construct of femininity sits against the choice not to have a child. Just as there are many who would argue that adolescence is a male construct and question whether is it possible to conform to the ideals of femininity and adolescence, what are those who state that women are only fulfilled when they have children doing? Is it too far to state that it seems these women define being a women by being a mother and that by implication that if you are not a mother you struggle to be a woman?

Black & White in Paris

{Image via The Sartorialist}

I gave up 3 months ago. But I still think the cigarette makes this photograph.

Book Reviews (a preview)

*I have realised I never wrote/posted my review of Wife in the North which I shall endeavour to do at some point soon. I have bought and read and reviewed the books of the two other bloggers I read (Petite Anglais & Rachel North London) so I really should get around to Judith's.

* I have moved WI branches and joined the book club of my new branch, so shall try and post the reviews of those books and perhaps even some of the subsequent discussions where possible. First up is Erica Jong's Fear of Flying which I read at university so am going to re-read quickly to refresh my memory.

* If anyone else wants to review the same books, let me know and I shall do a collective post which includes other links too.

Book Review: Gerrard - My Autobiography

{Image from Amazon.com}

No, not my usual sort of book either, but we were on holiday and M (and all his family) are Liverpool fans, so I picked it up for a brief look and a few hours later had finished the book. And that was how I came to know the names of the last three Liverpool managers and the reasons why Stevie G has played poorly in each of the last tournaments for England.

To be honest, the most overwhelming thing I felt for the book was pity for Gerrard's wife, Alex. Perhaps it was his lack of language skills and therefore ability to express how he really feels about her, but saying that she is a close friend, he loves her and he loves Liverpool Football Club (same sentence) and that she has a small career but is not a model but a Mum did not do anything to endear him to me.

I didn't have high expectations when I started the book but they were pretty damn low when I finished. Gerrard has an explanation for everything and seems to be a rather angry man, blaming everything but himself for his poor playing, performances or tackling issues. And yet, I didn't really feel that I gained much of an insight into his life. Yes, I discovered some interesting facts that I didn't know about the organisation of the F.A and players and clubs but I am sure that those won't be new to anyone who follows football 'properly'. Yes, there was information about some of his early years but a quick search on the Internet revealed almost as much information. There were pages and pages of drivel about formations and tackles and passes but a quick poll of my male friends interested in football revealed that they knew most of that information anyway, despite having not read the book. In short, there may have been several hundred pages but there was very little in the way of actual content.

In fact, perhaps the most intriguing part of the book was the index, which is something I have rarely seen in an autobiography. Still, useful if you are a footballer and can't be bothered/can't read the whole thing and just want to see what Gerrard wrote about you, if anything...

Yet not all is lost, I am going to try and read another autobiography or two of similar aged/standard players to put Gerrard's work into context. But as I had to give up on David Beckham's book 2/3 of the way through out of sheer boredom, do not hold your breath for the reviews.

London in the snow

Lincoln's Inn Postbox, originally uploaded by rachel-catherine.

Yes, just like every other Londoner (do I count as a Londoner - I've lived here since 2004, but perhaps that is for another post) I couldn't help but take photos yesterday during the snow.

You may have gathered that I work near Lincoln's Inn, for whatever the weather I seem to have taken a photo there. Something about the red of the postbox against the snow and the distant red of the bricks of the buildings seemed very Victorian. The photo isn't quite as I would have liked though - the cars for instance, but it was taken very quickly with my blackberry as I walked along.

This morning, by contrast, we still have some snow but also bright sunshine.

From one snow scene to another...

...and please forgive the double post...

...

Returned to London over the weekend, swapping the snow scenes of the alps for the ones of London. Except the light in London was rather less bright...

{Image Author's own and not to used without explicit permission}

Sunset over Montgenevre

.

Oh, and in the Alps everything works no matter how much snow there seems to be. In London, no buses were running, no trains, all tubes were severely delayed and it took me an hour and a half to do a 30 minute journey to work. Still, at least I made it. No-one else did.

{Image Author's own and not to used without explicit permission}
Montgenevre

.

Spent the morning doing odd jobs and tasks and trying not to notice the continuous snowfall outside my window. Am posting this at lunchtime and then I shall finish off and head home before the snow gets any worse and I am stranded in central London. I know I could walk home in about the same time as it took me to get here, but it is cold. Plus, I want to make chocolate cake.

{Image Author's own and not to used without explicit permission}
Lincoln's Inn Fields

I wonder what the situation will be like tomorrow? One noticeable thing about the snow is that it is so quiet. Without the buses and with the snow muffling all sound, it is actually peaceful.

{Image Author's own and not to used without explicit permission}

Lincoln's Inn

Proper wedding posts to resume again shortly when things are back to normal. Still trying to catch up on a week's worth of blog reading and e-mails...

...

postcard from france

Dear little miss rachel, tried to upload a post and photo to share the sunshine and report that all is well with skiing but blackberry keeps deleting things. Would have mentioned the experience of the chairlift the opposite way and the fastest run I managed (it was the rest of the parties slowest) but I shall leave it for my return. See you soon x

ear little miss rachel, skiing is going well, if you discount the minor incident involving some crying and experiencing the chairlift going the opposite direction to usual. The rest of the week has been better and today I managed to keep up with the rest of my party. It was the fastest I have ever done that run and their slowest. Tried to upload a photo to share the sunshine

E
E,

Tagged!

Kristy tagged me, so here goes:


Here are the rules:



1. Link to the person that tagged you


2. Post the rules on your blog


3. Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself


4. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs


5. Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.


6. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.


I am sure that you are all bored of hearing random facts about me (and can there really be anymore?) but here goes:


1. I don't wear a watch. Except today, when I am wearing M's because he forgot it.


2. January 2009 is the first time all of my sisters and I have been in the same place for 2 years.

3. I stress and worry and procrastinate far too much.

4. Two of my friends and I won £14 on a quiz machine playing deal or no deal last night.

5. I am hoping to upgrade my phone to a blackberry to feed my addiction to e-mails and blogging just a little bit more. M of course is thrilled!

6. There are 7 other posts on this blog about my random facts and they can be found here, here, here, here, here, here, and here.

I tag: anyone up for this? Let me know in the comments box...

Lessons Learnt

How big a difference do you think there is between someone saying that they love a person and someone being in love with that person? Is the speaker trying to reassure the listener (that person's partner) that they think the partner is great, i.e. 'what a great choice you made' or is it more of a veiled warning to the listener? Is the problem with the listener rather than the speaker.

Tonight started well. It went swiftly downhill.

Things I learnt:-

* Don't bother turning up to drinks at 9pm when everyone else will be wasted and you are entirely sober. It will be hideous.
* No matter how much you trust your own partner every once in a while some one else's behaviour will make you extremely cross.
* Any drunk female on her own who needs to get home will automatically live just near enough to you that you feel obliged to take her home but just far enough away from your house that it will be a £35 taxi fare. They will invariably have no money and be the one who made you very cross at point 2 above but you will have to bite your tongue and make polite small talk all the way home because your partner's caring-ness is something you love about them. Usually they will conveniently forget where they live and therefore engage your partner in conversation trying to remember their address whilst you suppress the urge to kick them out at the next set of traffic lights.
* If you are really lucky they will have had some kind of fxxked up argument with a colleague earlier and be so drunk that they stare at you before telling you they love your partner and that they are 10 times cool.
* If you are really lucky they will entice your partner into the loo to hold their hair whilst they vomit.
* If you are a rational person you will feel sorry for this person.
* I am not a rational person. I did not feel sorry for her. I felt exceedingly annoyed at her.
* This will result in an argument whereon you are blogging and your partner has gone to bed.
* This will annoy you more. You will resolve never to go to a drinks party where she or her fxxked up colleague is present ever again.
* It is hard to be the bigger person.

Matt, Liz & Madeline

Imagine getting married to your childhood sweetheart. Imagine her becoming pregnant and finally, after 5 weeks of bed rest, giving birth to a beautiful if slightly premature baby. Not so hard to imagine is it? Imagine setting up a blog to record the imminent arrival of the baby and the birth. Again, not so hard. Imagine your wife having to wait 24 hours to see her baby but when she got up to be taken to see her, she felt light headed and passed out and then died. In 27 hours experiencing the birth of your child and the death of your wife?

I came across Matt's blog yesterday: Matt Liz & Madeline. Unbelievably this is what happened to their family and the blog has turned from record of a birth to record of a life coping as a new father and widower. It is desperately sad but also beautiful reading and viewing (Matt takes lots of photos). Madeline is a sweet little girl and the kindness of strangers touches the heart and shows that even in the depths of tragedy kindness and hopefulness can be found .

Christmas Decorations

Better late than never...

All images by me