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I live on my own, well alone with a cat, but anyway...
I genuinely enjoy living on my own (with a cat).
Have you seen that quote...the one that about anyone wanting to be with you isn't competing with anyone else, but with your comfort zone? I totally get that.
Actually, I'm going to have to see if I can find the actual thing, because I suspect I butchered it somewhat....
*after googling*
There it is. See how much more eloquently put that was. Well done Mr Jones. I commend you.
Anyway, I had a point that I was getting to, sort of.
I was saying to a friend that not only do I chatter away to myself when I'm home alone, I also make myself laugh on a daily basis. I find myself hilarious.
Not that I'm actually funny, I just amuse myself easily.
And therein lies a tale.
The other night I go to curl up on the sofa and tuck my feet up under me as I do pretty much every day. Except my right knee has decided it doesn't want to. In fact it explains its decision by causing a pain similar to how I imagine it would be to become impaled, through the knee on something both sharp and hot. It was that kind of pain that almost feels like you've been winded.
I attempt the move again and it repeats its decision with the same astonishing pain.
When the knee is straight zero pain, no hint that the knee is in a bad mood.
So I stop bending it.
Because life is about making smart choices.
I retire to bed, I keep my grumpy knee unbent.
The next morning, I sit on the sofa and decide to test bend the knee.
It is less grumpy than the night before, but still uncomfortable.
I rub my knee and say to myself "gosh my knee is sore.....it's agoknee".
Ha! Agony...agoknee...see what I did there?
Yeah, I realise this is not really funny.
I appreciate it's a terrible pun.
But oh. my. god. I laughed.
Then the fact that I was laughing made me laugh.
My ribs hurt.
There were tears.
Every time I tried to stop I laughed again.
Typing this I'm having a chuckle to myself.
Honestly, I actually just snorted.
I guess part of my comfort zone is being able to laugh at my own jokes. Isn't there another quote somewhere about laughing at your own jokes not being cool? Probably. Well screw them, I'm laughing over here and I like it.
On an unrelated/related note...
I used to work for BT (British Telecom) I was a Diagnostic Testing Officer. So fancy.
Well, I answered the phone and diagnosed faults on phone lines. Not so fancy.
During training the trainer was explaining the difference between faults and said you would know a specific fault wouldn't be caused by overhead lines rubbing in trees because trees don't make calls.
I leant into my friend and said "unless it's a trunk call".
Again, it wasn't really funny, but you know how bad jokes are just hilarious? We lost it, we tried SO hard to keep it together, but failed.
We were told off and told to leave the room.
I'd never been chastised like that as an adult before, which just made it more hilarious to me.
Telling that story just reminds me of another one....
Maybe I'll save the story of the shadow for another time.
Oh the suspense!
Ha!
There won't be any new me. Although isn't there something that says all of your cells renew so that every few months you're essentially a new person?
Hmm, that seems weird.
Perhaps if you shaved your head that could be true?
I have no idea where I'm going with this.
Anyway, welcome to 2019.
It's not that I have any grand plans for 2019, but I feel like I'd like to do better.
My Dad passed away in May of 2018 and that really made the year a write-off for me.
But that's a post for another day.
I'd really like to get more done, to be more efficient.
I don't want to make resolutions, they seem to me like you're setting yourself up for failure, perhaps instead I wake up in the morning and resolve to do the best I can do that day.
For me, and I'm sure for many people, the best you can do is variable.
Some days you're full of energy and motivation and ready to take on the world.
Other days you're tired and low and getting dressed might be the best you can do.
I think the important thing is to adapt to how you feel on each of the 365 days in the non-leap years. Frankly, every time we have day 366 we should all get to have a massage.
A conga massage! No, that would be weird. I retract that idea immediately.
Back on track.
I like to write the things that are in my brain, I'd like to track the things I make when I've been hunkered down in my craftroom/studio/sewing room, call it what you will. I'd like to do better at remembering the good times I have.
I would like to get back to blogging.
Also, I had three accidents in just one week over Christmas and goodness knows that shit is funny. Totally hit myself in the finger with a cleaver at one point....the finger still exists with surprisingly minor damage. In fact, I'd like to take this opportunity to express my thanks and gratitude to my fingernail for stopping the advance of aforementioned cleaver.
Long story short, I'm going to try my best to be my best without giving myself a hard time on my worst days.
I'm a little accident prone.
Okay, I'm really very accident prone. I admit it.
However, it's now January 5th and I've gone this many days without injury.
Sort of.
Today I dropped something as I was getting vegetables out of the fridge for tea, so I bent down to pick it up.
At this point I should say that my fridge is stacked on top of my freezer, so my fridge sits higher than you might imagine.
So, I bend down to pick up the cheese I dropped and as I do so, unbeknownst to me, the fridge door starts to swing closed.
Yes, I did headbut the door with the back of my head as I stood up.
Yes it hurt like a sonofabitch.
No, there wasn't blood - which I'm counting as a win.
However, 2018 injury count is now: 1.
I've always had a lot of wacky dreams, I don't always remember them, which is pretty disappointing!
Last night was quite spectacular in the world of dreams.
I dreamt I was seated upon my sofa, engrossed in a tv show, when I finally looked up from the tv, I noticed there had been an accident in the road immediately outside my window.
Large crowds had gathered around a lady that had been hit by a car. She was wearing a pleated navy skirt and was surrounded by people trying to help, whilst they waited for an ambulance. There was a girl who was laid on the verge sobbing, with a group of friends talking to her. For some reason I went to ask if she wanted to come inside but her friends shooed me away.
I hate it when dreams don't have an end, they just dissolve away into another dream, I have no idea what happened to the lady in the navy pleated skirt.
But as one dream dissolves away, another one slips in to replace it.
I looked out the window again, an animal had been hit by a car.
But not just any animal.
It seemed like it was a polar bear.
A polar bear was laying in the road.
But wait, it wasn't just a polar bear, there was a man there too, he was curled up like the little spoon to the bear big spoon.
It appeared that the two were unconscious.
The man started to stir, then the bear, and suddenly it wasn't a polar bear, it was a big brown bear. A huge brown bear.
I asked if they were okay and I was far, far too close to such a huge bear.
They awoke fully, the bear clambered from its prone position to being back on all four paws. Suddenly the man, wearing a wild blue puffy suit with gold trim, was seated atop the bear. He bid me farewell and rode atop the bear as it bounded off quickly across the fields.
What the flim-flam were those dreams all about?
Good grief, whatever my subconscious brain was trying to figure out, I hope it managed it.
My phone did that little noise it does when something Facebook related has occurred.
I looked at my phone, I have been tagged in a post...I must investigate further!
I digitally strolled my way over to Facebook to see more and am greeted with the following words: "Fun when you show people a very specific word definition and one of the associated images is a Facebook friend".
I was the Facebook friend in question!
So, out there, there exists a single word that will lead you to a photograph of my good self.
I took a moment, I thought, I turned a few words over in my mind, when suddenly I had a brainwave, I tapped the letters on my keyboard and began my google search.
The results appeared and I guffawed. I snorted with laughter. My ribs hurt, my tummy hurt, so much laughter, so much.
I have no idea why I found it so utterly hilarious, I still do.
The idea that a single word will make my youthful face appear in a google search is just hilarious to me.
It's such a great word too.
Not your average run of the mill word, oh no, this is an unusual word, not one to be found in the vocabulary of many.
What's the word?
What could it BE?
Well, that'd be telling wouldn't it!
Some time ago I saw a postcard on PostSecret talking about long car journeys. The sender said that when travelling long distances and noticing another vehicle keeping pace with you for a long time, it was like you were automatic car buddies. As is often the case with the revealed secrets it struck a chord.
I wanted to add that postcard to this post, I googled and googled but it was not to be found anywhere.
I've always felt that camaraderie with other vehicles on the road as we travel along together. A brief vehicular friendship.
Unless they drive too close, in that case we are sworn enemies.
Or they don't use their lights in poor visibility.
Or they fail to indicate.
There are strict rules on my vehicular friendship apparently.
I do have a point...I'm just taking a somewhat circuitous route to get to it.
So, last week, I took a drive over to Wales to see some friends for the day.
I love being in my car and I love to drive. I love my music and the road beneath my wheels. It was a really nice drive, then I got stuck behind someone doing 40 in a 60. (This is an automatic ban from any vehicular friendship.)
As I waited for an opportunity to overtake, a blue van approached behind me, settling just a fraction too close for my liking - getting close to not being allowed into my vehicular friendship club (let's say VFC for short, it's one hell of a mouthful else).
The moment arose, a clear stretch of road opened up, I dropped down a gear and whizzed past the slowcoach.
I continued my journey and a little while later, the blue van reappeared in my rear view mirror.
I offered my mental congratulations on their success in also separating from the slowcoach.
On we went. As the miles passed and we took the same roads time and again, the blue van was a fully fledged member of the VFC. I'm not sure how long we hung out together, maybe an hour. At each turn I willed the blue van to keep following. How long could we possibly go in the same direction?
Finally, my google sat nav instructed me to turn left at the next roundabout. I put on my indicator.
Oh no!
Blue van was going straight on!
This was it, we were to be separated. I had a moment of sadness, then, sensing our imminent separation, blue van's lights flash-flash-flashed. Blue van was bidding me farewell! I held up my left arm and waved emphatically.
It was a two-way friendship!
Goodbye blue van friend!
I sighed and carried on.
And then....
Then I discovered google had royally shafted me and sent me to the wrong place.
I should have gone straight on at the roundabout.
Google separated me from my blue van friend too soon, too soon.
I'd input the whole address of where I was going, but google had seen fit to override the post code and send me somewhere with a similar first line to the address, but whilst I'm sure it was lovely, I had no desire to visit a large organic farm. I wanted to see my friends!
I changed the address to just the post code and set off again. This time alone, no blue van friend to accompany me.
I miss you blue van friend, I hope your day was as lovely as mine.
I need both to pee and to blow my nose.
Neither of these are pleasant images.
But what these things have in common is that Kini is fast asleep on my lap.
Fast, fast asleep.
So asleep I cannot bring myself to move.
I can no longer feel my legs.
My legs are as asleep as my cat.
Help me.
Send tissues.
I'm still harbouring my germs and am utterly shattered but have spent tonight watching the season finale episodes of both The Walking Dead & My Mad Fat Diary.
The Walking Dead response as the credits rolled was "what the hell? That's it? meh"
Also, where in the hell is Carol? I need to know!
But still, I had a list of characters that I didn't want killing off and they did get to live.
After all this much is understood:
And as the credits rolled for My Mad Fat Diary? My heart was happy, I contained a whoop of joy. Excellent ending. I am joyous. Excellent. Super. Fabulous. Great!
And now to bed.
Tomorrow is April 1st, end of my self-imposed blogging challenge, we'll ignore the fact that it's officially after midnight, but I only missed 1 of 31 posts, so I'm giving myself a pass.
I talk to myself sometimes, and by sometimes I basically mean all the time that I'm alone. Although, obviously, I'm just talking to Kini the whole time, whether or not she's in the room...ahem.
Yesterday I uttered the following brilliant lines:
"Why is my cardigan in the wok?"
I'm still not actually sure why my cardigan was in the wok.
"Oh! It's a potato! I thought it was a really hard grape!"
I don't know how I came to possess such a tiny, green potato.
For the record, I say some weird shit even when I'm not just talking to myself.
I think my friends could happily vouch for that.
Before my break from blogging I mentioned that I was likely getting an allotment and I did indeed get my plot.
I haven't been able to get there this year with all of Dad's ongoing health concerns but this Sunday is the AGM.
None of this is very exciting I know, but it's written into the constitution that officers can only hold a post for three years, so the treasurer, secretary & chairman have to be changed every three years.
This year the chairman and the secretary come to the end of their three year stint and thus those two posts need to be filled.
Last year I volunteered to be a committee member, there's not a whole lot to it, going to regular meetings throughout the summer and going on a water rota every few weeks - where you attend on a Saturday morning & turn on the mains water to allow people to fill up their water butts if they've run low.
So they're after a new chairman and a new secretary.
I've somehow volunteered to be secretary!
So that's me with a new job for the next 3 years!
It's been slow going on my allotment, it's a large space and I can't afford to do everything in one go, so I've just been growing as much as I can and slowly adding more to my plot. Last year I bought myself a shed and got that erected.
I also bought a greenhouse but that is still waiting for another pair of hands to help me erect it. I need to build the wooden base first but I've no idea where to start!
I'm hoping this year to initiate a chicken time share on my plot!
I really want to have chickens, but I really don't want to have to visit every day, and I reckon there must be other people who only want to have to visit once or twice a week. So my plan is to find those other people and we can work out a rota of chicken care, getting allocated one or two days a week, and you get the eggs that have been laid on the day you're on rota to feed and water them. This is a genius plan is it not?
I've purchased a boat load of weed suppressing material this year so I intend to dig up and replant all my strawberries. I had a mammoth harvest last year, but without the weeds, they should do even better.
I have a path running down the centre of my plot and the beds on the right are for fruit and the plots on the left for vegetables. I'll be laying the weed suppressing material at the feet of the blackcurrants, redcurrants and whitecurrants and at the feet of the blackberry, tayberry and gooseberry bushes. Hopefully I'll have plenty so that I can lay it around the globe artichoke bed too.
I decided to extend my globe artichoke, doubling it in size, despite the fact I had way more globe artichokes than I knew what to do with at their last harvest. I must be obsessed!
So, this year's jobs are to be the new secretary, build my greenhouse, get the weeds under control, put down the suppressing material, grow lots and lots of peas, have a better sweetcorn harvest than last year and possibly get a chicken coop made!
Anyone for digging?
Please? ;)
I missed yesterday's post, I was too busy having a hot bubble bath.
I started reading a new book on my kindle as I laid in the bath, but I'm not really enjoying it.
After I got out, I headed over to Goodreads to tell it I had started reading a new book and decided to see what other people thought of it and I saw a slew of 1 star ratings, so I clearly wasn't alone.
But here's the thing, as I'm doing the Goodreads reading challenge this year does an abandoned book count as a finished book?
It's a quandary!
But I definitely don't think I can bring myself to finish it, I've got 20% of the way through it and it shows no signs of improving....
Oh well, I think I'll take myself off to my craft room, I have bunting to design and crochet information sheets to write, I'm nothing if not rock n roll.
As I'm a vegetarian, I love vegetables, but it's wonderful to see that they love me back:
Isn't that adorable?!
I had a heart shaped mushroom once too.
But I ate it.
After mentioning favourites in Friday's post, I woke with the iconic song from The Sound Of Music bouncing around in my brain and as a result...these are a few of my favourite things:
Cats (obviously).
Driving.
Caesar Salad, Halloumi, Peas, Pizza, Artichoke Hearts, Pomegranates.
Tumblr.
Droopy.
Tattoos.
Folk Music.
Gigs.
Reading.
My Kindle.
T'Internet.
Belly Laughs.
Accidentally, Artists beginning with K. Kandinsky, Klimt & Klee.
Learning.
Crafts.
My firepit.
The word 'balter'.
Profanity.
Showers.
Baths.
Movies & Television.
A new toothbrush.
Rollercoasters.
Power tools.
Nail varnish.
Cambridge Folk Festival.
The Animal Kingdom.
These songs.
Comedy pants, like these, or these, or these, or these.
The Unexplained.
Fonts.
Franz Marc.
Board Games.
BAMFs.
Storms.
Kini falling asleep on my lap.
Dancing.
Daisies, Tulips, Tigridia, Paeonies, Lavender, Pansies, Sweet Peas.
My allotment.
Fabric & Ribbon.
Grape Soda, Hot Chocolate.
Sylvac.
Lea Stein.
The smells: freshly mown grass, just baked bread.
Lingerie.
1950's kitsch.
Happiness.
In the midst of a busy day yesterday I went out for lunch, afterwards I excused myself to go to the loo.
There were three empty cubicles, so I chose one and went in.
I was sitting there, completely alone, when the hand dryer turned on.
Did I mention that I was alone?
That I was behind a closed door, some way away from the hand dryer.
I may have been freaked out.
I may have completed my wee in turbo time.
I went out and there was no one there, the hand dryer had turned off, but I had not finished freaking out.
It's definitely my first experience with a haunted hand dryer and hopefully my last!
I knew there was something I had to today.
It was bugging me all day that there was something I mustn't forget.
But I forgot.
I've since remembered....
And now there's just 10p left on my electric meter.
I should have remembered to top-up.
I miss living in a home where you just paid by direct debit instead of a ruddy card meter.
I find myself wondering when it's all going to go very dark.
A sensible person would find a torch, just in case, but you see, I am not a sensible person.
So if it all goes dark before I make it to bed, the first words out of my mouth will be "I wish I'd got a torch out".
I'm going to climb the apples and pears and see how long that 10p will last!
It's very exciting isn't it? Or not.
An evening of willow weaving was held in my village hall, I popped along and had a splendid evening, we all had a go at weaving an obelisk and all went home with a willow wreath.
I'd wanted to try it for so long and I was thrilled to have a chance, and then our tutor, Jess, announced she was going to start a willow group, where we'd be able to get together, suggest things we'd like to make and do a new project every month. It was perfect & I signed up, in the time since we've made all sorts of different things.
A woven heart that sits in my garden:
A corn dolly style dragonfly:
Either side of my garden swing seat sit some woven obelisks that my sweet peas grew up and around last year, I made these from memory of what we'd been taught at the evening, so I'm looking forward to doing them again with supervision!
And another obelisk at the other side of the garden, they weren't perfect but for a beginner they worked just fine...
And we made hurdles too, I'm going to make some more of these and have them all around the edges of my beds, they'll give support to the plants that start to fall forward, as they lean, keen to grab each and every ray of sun that they can
It was bloody hard to take a photo of the flower I made last year, but the centre of the flower is the same as the way you start off a basket, not that I can ever quite remember how it's done, but I do love how intricately pretty it is..
And here's Bogart, my hare, one of the things I most wanted to make when I had the chance to learn willow weaving was a hare, so I am utterly, utterly thrilled with him, he's so adorable! Look at him! Look at how goddamn adorable he is!
I might be somewhat proud of Bogart, I'm not sure if I made that clear... ;)
At one of the sessions last year we were making a bottomless basket, that you could put around a plant pot to make it more decorative, it's safe to say I did not find French randing easy to pick up. I was flummoxed, so by the end of the session, my basket was quite small as I'd been incredibly slow in my weaving. I wasn't sure what to do with it, and I hadn't even cut off the excess rods and correctly finished it, I'd just put it straight in the garage until I could decide what to do with it. Well, this weekend I decided I'd let it be an obelisk, so I purchased a large enough pot, filled it with compost, planted a climbing fuschia and added the makeshift obelisk. I'm actually really pleased with it and it's now sitting right by my front door:
It's somewhat annoying that a bird pooped on the boards outside my house and all I can see is my obelisk and a blob of white bird poop. But here's the thing, how did it poop at such an angle? Did it come in sideways for a direct hit? I possibly live in the vicinity of acrobatic poopers. And there we have a sentence that I never thought I'd utter.
My current project is a large basket, which is actually taking three sessions to complete, and it means I'm back to French randing again, but it's actually going mostly okay. As it's going to be a lot taller than the few inches in the photo above, it should prove to be excellent practice and I might finally get my head around this weaving technique!
I've also made a woven Christmas tree and a wee angel. Well, actually a wee wonky angel. She has a definite lilt when she stands, but she'd do fine on the top of a huge Christmas tree! Not that she'll ever make it to a Christmas tree, she'll just have to remain a lilting angel!
Overall I'm just thrilled that I finally got the chance to learn a new skill.
Also, as I have problems with both anxiety and depression, it's been a huge challenge for me to go out and do something social in a group with new people. I've come to feel really comfortable there, Jess is lovely and my fellow weavers are a wonderful, it's been a hugely positive thing in my life, with far more benefits to me than simply beginning to learn a new craft.
Thanks are definitely due to Jess for her patient tutoring & splendid company, and also for sharing my mild obsession with ribbon and fonts.
I got a new tattoo last year:
It had been a while since I'd indulged my love of ink so it was time.
These words come from a song by Frank Turner, the whole lyric is "If that's your road then take it, but it's not the road for me"
The first time I ever heard the song and that line, it really spoke to me, to be honest the entire song is filled with lyrics that speak to me, like "I'm happy and I'm settled in the person I've become" and then there's "And I won't sit down, And I won't shut up, And most of all I will not grow up". I feel like parts of it are about me, but isn't that often the way with music?
We find songs that speak to us, songs that appear to accurately reflect our lives, songs that seem as though the writer was talking directly to us.
If that's your road then take it but it's not the road for me...I like how that infers that we all get to do what we want to do and it's okay if we don't want to do the same thing, we get to live our own lives, making our own choices. It all boils down to live and let live in it's simplest sense.
In a deeper way it speaks to me about how, during my journey of body acceptance & feminism, I'm learning to be non-judgemental.
Somehow we're all taught to judge things that just aren't important...they shouldn't be wearing that, their make-up is wrong, that outfit isn't flattering, they must be an idiot to be reading that book, that's a terrible tattoo, that's a boring hobby to have, they're too fat, they're too thin, the list goes on and on.
I've spent so many years making those judgements that I still do it sometimes, but I catch myself in my mind and make myself consciously accept that someone else's choices do not have to mirror my own, and good on them for living their life the way they want to. I find myself silently celebrating it every single time.
The knock-on effect has been that I'm happier in my own skin, if I don't judge others harshly, I don't judge myself harshly and let me tell you, that's a far happier way to live!
Just a few words, arranged on my back, that I wanted with me forever, to remind me of a happier way to live.
I've spent all of this year travelling back & forth to hospital visiting my Dad after he had an accident a couple of days before Christmas.
It's £3 to park each time at the hospital, or you can get a 10 day parking pass which works out at about half the price, so I've been working my way through parking passes.
After having used my newest pass just twice it turns out that my Dad is being discharged and I have no need of the new pass any longer.
The other visitors I'd seen around the ward weren't about when I left so I couldn't pass it on to them so I resigned myself to carrying it around for the foreseeable future until I'd had cause to visit the hospital a further eight times.
When you have a pass you have to have your parking validated at main entrance, so as I queued for this I overheard that the couple in front of me had exhausted their pass & would need a new one the following day.
I waited, got my validated ticket and chased after the couple and called to them, when they turned I handed them my pass.
They looked suitably confused and I explained my father was being discharged tomorrow and I no longer needed my pass.
"But you've only used it twice!" said the lady "you could use it again!"
I explained "it'll take me forever to use up the remaining 8 allowances".
"Well would you like me to give you some money for it?" she asked, going for her purse.
"Absolutely not, I know what a long slog it is going back & forth, that's my third pass here and I've been travelling back & forth to various hospitals since just before Christmas, so I know how expensive it is too".
She looks at me and says "I'll be sure to pay this goodwill forward, thank you so much"
I tell her that she's very welcome and she replies that she's very moved and is clearly a little tearful.
I wish them both well and say that I hope whoever they're visiting is soon feeling improved.
She thanks me over and over and tells me that they're visiting her father, which seems wonderfully serendipitous to me.
It was such a tiny gesture, but it left me feeling really good.
I walked back to my car with a spring in my step!
I realise that it's the 9th of March, a long time after January 1st, but today the sun was shining so brilliantly I took the chance to start tidying the garden.
For the record, starting a petrol lawnmower with your left hand when your right arm has tennis elbow, is really bloody hard work!
Anyway, as usual, I have digressed, it's wonderful to see everything growing, it's a new year for all my flowers. New buds are appearing everywhere & I start to get excited about all the flowers that'll open in the coming months.
My climbing rose has gone bananas, I'm not sure, even if I add some new trellis that I'll be able to contain it.
I planted my new rose - Lady Marmalade - that I got for Christmas. It's very cool having a rose that shares my name, albeit my adopted internet name!
The first of my tulips are flowering, daffodils on the verge of joining them, snowdrops coming to their end.
The red tips of the paeony are just pushing through the soil.
A flurry of crocus' that I don't remember planting are battling for sunshine.
It's been such a mild winter that some sweet peas are already starting to climb the willow obelisks that I made last year.
Even my verbena bonariensis has survived the winter, I'm quite delighted at how full and promising the garden looks.
I filled up my wood store too, ready for a year of barbecues & fire pit evenings. And hopefully of pizza if a new oven can be built to take the place of Colin Falstaff, who didn't survive the winter. I'm going to have to google where to purchase clay for oven building....
I just wish you didn't look such a billy no mates if you chose to sit around a fire pit on your own.
Although, it has to be said, usually the grass ends up catching on fire, and it's a definite bonus if there's more than one of you about to throw water on the ensuing blaze.
Perhaps the job this year should be to find a less flammable location for the firepit!
It might be that today was just a blip of sudden heat in a cool spring, but it was a delight to sit in the sunshine, surrounded by the cacophony of mowers in neighbouring gardens. I like that spring clean of the garden, it's the beginning of the welcoming in of summer, although it does mean I really have to get down to the allotment, build my greenhouse and start my plants growing, ready for a bumper harvest - well I can but hope!
A short while ago the 2014 IQ Test was showing up on Facebook so I decided to give it a go as it's been ages since I took an IQ Test.
So I made my way through the test, a couple of the questions didn't make sense to me but I came out with an IQ score of 170.
I briefly felt like a genius.
But then I remembered how terrible I am at chess.
I don't know what it is, I like logic puzzles, I like puzzles and quizzes in general.
I like learning new things, I've come to really enjoy learning about science.
But chess just doesn't seem to fit inside my head.
I mean I fully understand what I'm supposed to be doing, I fully understand how all the pieces move, I get it, I do, but I'm still terrible at it.
Somehow I can't see the moves ahead that I need to be seeing, I can't make the plans.
I'm also hasty.
I make moves without considering all my options.
Makes you wonder how much chess duplicates real life.
Sometimes I don't even see really obvious moves that are right in front of me.
I also fail to be competitive enough, I don't mind whether I win or lose. Even though I get pleasure when I do win, I don't experience any great disappointment when I lose.
Actually, the games that I have won, I experience surprise over pleasure.
I do want to be good, I really do, I've been taught with such incredible patience but I think I've hit a plateau that I can't leave.
I mean I'm smart enough, why is chess so damn hard?!
I'm never going to be a Grand Master!
