As If By Magic

After writing yesterday about the Cambridge Folk Festival line-up, they announced more names today.  And they were more good names.  I am being spoiled.
I really enjoyed Phillip Henry & Hannah Martin when I saw them and I love my Skinny Lister album, so now all I have to hope for is that there aren't lots of programme clashes when I get there in July!

In other news...I have been diagnosed with tennis elbow.
My arm has been so painful since the end of November/beginning of December I figured I must've pulled a muscle whilst being overzealous during a spot of wii boxing, or perhaps, as I'd spent a month of doing 12+ hours of sewing a day that I'd cramped the muscles in my arm & it would sort itself.  Weeks passed, then more weeks and it hurt all the damn time so I finally took myself off to the doctor.
He gave it a bit of a poke, "it's not at all tender" I proclaim.
Well, that doctor, he proved me a liar.  I yelped and yanked my arm away from him.
"Apparently it's tender there, let's never do that again" I suggest.
Then he held my hand as if we were firmly shaking hands, all was fine.
Then he twisted his hand.
I shit you not, I actually came out of my seat, tears sprang to my eyes and I felt like I'd been winded.
So. Much. Pain.
He may have handed me a tissue.

The last time I played tennis I was in school.  The tennis courts were split into two lots, one on each side of a building, so our teacher could only be on one set of courts at a time.  Someone was on lookout and the rest of us just sat around until the teacher approached our courts.  The alarm was called and we all leapt up to commence playing tennis.  In my haste to leap to my feet I stepped on a tennis racquet and impressively did a skid into the splits. It was not comfortable.  I don't advise it. Anyway, that's pretty much the last time I played tennis.  Or did the splits.

So it's quite impressive to have got tennis elbow. 
I have tablets and if there's no improvement there's to be an injection.  
If that injection is in any way similar to the injection for my carpal tunnel syndrome, I am not enthusiastic, but I'm less enthusiastic about the ruddy tennis elbow!

Festival Time

When they announce the line-up for my beloved Cambridge Folk Festival there's always a moment of trepidation, will the names be ones I've longed for?
This year marks the 50th anniversary of the Cambridge Folk Festival so I'd wondered if there would be some amazing names to mark it.

So, the line-up was announced a week or two ago & I'm thrilled!
I'd wondered if I'd get the opportunity to see Loudon Wainwright III again so when I saw his name I was overjoyed.
Also on the line-up are Ladysmith Black Mambazo, who I've been listening to for years & my gut tells me they'll be fabulous live.
The last time I saw Afro Celt Sound System they were superb so it's exciting to be able to see them again!
Cara Dillon has such a delightful voice, it's always wonderful to see her live too.
Then there's The Full English, a real folk supergroup, so they'll doubtless be excellent.
I'm also looking forward to seeing Pokey LaFarge, Sarah Jarosz and Lúnasa, so all in all it's shaping up wonderfully!

I'm really chuffed, the rest of the line-up will just be the icing on the cake!
Sometimes you need some good news & something to look forward to, so this was just what the doctor ordered!

Jeff & Tilda

Jeff started misbehaving on the journey home from the Christmas cottage and in the new year she went straight to see her favourite mechanic, she spent some time there and was finally better.  I brought her home and she went wrong again the very next day, so back to the garage she went, then they couldn't repair her so off she went to a new garage, where she stayed for some time, eventually coming home again.
A day or so later one of her wipers stopped working. 
I was about to tear my hair out, whipped it back to the garage and it took less than a minute to fix. I whooped with joy!
But it had become clear that my beloved Jeff would have to be rehomed.
Look at her though, look how damned adorable she is:

I'm not even sorry about how much I love that little car with the big bottom.  Everything just fits neatly into the boot. I once got a fridge in there, standing, without even having to put the seats down.
I mean she had her quirks, when you unlocked the doors the radio immediately started playing.  And continued playing when you stopped the car and locked it.  She wasn't too fond of hills, but then, neither am I, so all power to her.  Also, when people moaned about how the sun was low in the sky and always in their eyes when driving, I never understood what they were complaining about, because she was so tall, the sun was never in my eyes.
But, it had to be done, Jeff had to find someone new to love her.
And I had to find someone new to love.
So, after searching and interacting with one too many idiotic car salesmen, getting advice from my mechanic and doing test drives, I came home with Tilda.
Behold, Tilda:

She's a little more anonymous than Jeff was, I liked the way Jeff stood out in a crowd, you never lost her in a car park, but Tilda has her plus points, she doesn't appear to demand regular attention from my mechanic - definite bonus.  She also responds when the pedal is, as they say, to the metal. She's a nippy wee thing. Whilst she isn't large of arse, with the seats down, it's still a sizeable space so I should be able to shove all my nonsense in there!
Also, she is sporting a fine CD player. I cannot drive without music, one must have music!
And, because I am the provider of sweets, she has plenty of storage for the boxes of sweets that my friends raid on every journey.
And, last but not least, what Tilda and Jeff have in common, they both have a kitty on the rear window, with a wiper shaped tail:

That makes her a little less anonymous and a little more quirky...although I feel sure she needs one or two touches more...

On a final note, I had bitched & moaned that, for some reason the power point that I wanted to plug my phone charger in to, wouldn't accept any of the chargers I owned, it was simply too shallow.  
My good friend came round to investigate.
There's something stuck in there he proclaims.
I dismiss this idea, thinking there can't possibly be something stuck in there that happens to be the exact same diameter as the power point. 
He insists.
Get me something to poke it with.
I deliver pokey tools.
Upon insertion of pokey tool there is a spark.  And a jump. And gales of laughter from me.
No wee came out, but it was close.
Would you believe it, he was right, a magnet had been shoved down the power point, the magnet was retrieved!
Hurrah!
Now the charger fit like a dream!
Except the spark had blown the fuse.
Oops.
Off to my mechanic.  New fuse obtained. And I jolly well fitted it myself.
So everything now works perfectly & I now know how to change fuses in my car.
Check me.  Like a goddamn grown-up.

I still miss Jeff desperately, but Tilda & I are getting along splendidly, I just hope Jeff finds a new home where they're kind to her.  Because I'm sentimental, and not sorry :)

Challenged

I signed up to do the Goodreads Reading Challenge this year.
When deciding how many books to make my challenge, I figured 50 would be an easy number, that's averaging one a week.  How hard could it be?
The lesson learned is that if you read an 800 page book, it's going to take a damn sight more than a week to read, if you're just reading for around an hour a night.
A couple of weeks in and I was two books behind schedule.
A week ago I was three books behind schedule.
I can't even begin to tell you how pressured I felt to catch up!
I searched my shelves for the shortest unread books I owned. 
I read one quickly and as I'd almost finished I remembered an almost finished book of letters & papers and finished that last night.
Now I'm just one book behind schedule.  I can do this! 
Possibly.
Although it's only just the beginning of March and I've not yet managed to get ahead of schedule. And I'm running out of short books.
I've got another half finished book sitting on a shelf, I'm not sure whether to go on to that one or whip through another short one. 
These simple decisions take up far too much room in my mind!

In other news, I love my kindle so much.
I was always a lover of real books, never wanted a kindle, and now I can't remember when I changed my mind, but I adore it.
When I had carpal tunnel surgery there was no way I'd have been able to comfortably hold a regular book for any length of time, so the kindle was a godsend.
Also, having the entire Game of Thrones series takes up so much less space on a wee kindle than it does on a bookshelf - and it's a damn sight lighter to hold!
Only thing is, I can't check in advance how long a book is when I'm trying to beat a damn challenge!

Christmas Past

I used to really enjoy blogging & I regret falling out of the habit, so I decided to make March a month of blogging. One post a day for a month, see if I can keep that commitment and if that gets me back into the habit of writing regularly, or if I fail to do my 31 posts!

So, where to begin...
I think, as my life is generally made up of tales of chaos, that must be an ideal place to start.

Thus begins the tale of my journey to Shropshire, to a rented cottage, for the week of Christmas.
I packed Jeff, my car, with all the gifts, all the kitchenalia that we might need if the holiday cottage kitchen wasn't well stocked and lastly herded Kini, my cat, into her travel box and headed to go collect Dad.
Filled the car with all of the things he'd collected to bring with us.
With Jeff bursting at the seams we set off.
Kini curled up and went to sleep.
About ten miles down the road I was hit by the realisation that I'd left my clothes hanging on a hook at home, leaving me with precisely one outfit, to last a week.  
So after a swift U-turn, I loaded my clothes into the car and off we set again.
Dad with directions in hand, Kini sleeping soundly and Jeff driving like a dream.

Cut to a little later and we realise we've missed an important junction.  
I decide to take the next exit and wiggle our way through to the A road we would've eventually be catching anyway, so as we make our merry way through the countryside Jeff suddenly starts beeping loudly.  I glance down at the dashboard and see the word 'STOP' flashing in red letters.
I take this to be a clue that I should, possibly, stop driving.  
We pull into a bus stop and I look at the dash, realising that Jeff is overheating.
I don't have any extra coolant in the car, but check her levels anyway. 
And the answer is.....coolant purchase is essential.
We all sit, waiting for the engine temperature to drop so we can limp slowly to a garage, whilst also hoping a bus doesn't come along as the bus stop I've parked in, definitely isn't big enough for the two of us.

No bus arrives - which is normal I believe.  I'm sure two were just beyond the horizon somewhere.
The engine temperature drops, we limp to a nearby garage, I pour a full bottle of coolant into Jeff and we set off again.
Well, say I, let's hope that's the last of today's driving adventures!

We realise we're almost at the rented cottage, probably not more than ten or fifteen minutes away, when suddenly the car is filled with an extraordinary stench.
It's bad, really bad, Dad and I wind down the windows, unsure if it's coming from inside or outside.
It is utterly freezing with the windows open, but by christ the smell is so bad we have no choice.  
Kini, who has now been stuck in her carry case for longer than she should have been, due to the previous delays, has done a huge shit.
However bad you imagine that might've smelt, it was worse. It was terrible.  
If I live for the rest of my life, never again enveloped by a stench such as that, I'll be very happy.

We arrived at the cottage.  I exited the car at speed, yelling & asking where my bedroom was.  I had to let Kini out of her travel case before I could clean out the stink.  I ran up the stairs, Kini leapt from the case and back down the stairs I ran, throwing the contents of the case onto the front lawn, to be aired & cleaned up later.

I often wonder what it must be like to live an uneventful life.

Astronomy

I got a phone call from a friend:
"Do you like astronomy?"
"Well it's interesting but I'm not really bothered really, why?"
"I'm doing this night school course and they need a couple of extra people to be sure it'll run and I wondered if you fancied it."
"I don't have anything else on on a Wednesday so why the hell not".

And thus began my introduction to Astronomy, which, for the record is really bloody fascinating.
I MUST buy myself a Planisphere - which is quite honestly the best invention, and not since sliced bread, just simply the best invention. Ever.
Any argument against this statement is invalid.

However, there is one problem with astronomy. I will admit I am now a 35 year old woman. I'm a grown up. With the sense of humour of an adolescent boy.
On my very first night the tutor said Uranus. Seven times.
Seven times I had to control my desire to burst into uproarious laughter.
"I'm sorry it's cloudy tonight or we would have had a clear view of Uranus".
It doesn't help that he pronounces it 'your-anus'.
Seriously. How is that ever not funny?

I'm not sure a week has gone by that he hasn't said it. And every damn week do I have to fight to control my snigger.
It's one of those laughs that is in your nose, you know what I mean? It starts to come out as a snorting noise that you can't control. Or you get the silent shoulder shake kind of laugh, either way, when there's only a dozen of you, you single yourself out as the immature one. Which is pretty fair and accurate.
I have a puerile sense of humour. It is out of my control.
I might have to search out who said it but they were wise: "Growing old is compulsory, growing up is optional."
I'm opting out.

Anyway, tonight is astronomy, it's cloudy out there so the observatory will be shut and the telescope locked away. Classroom studies it is then, so I can come away and for the next week go on about the size of Venus' moons, or the size of the red spot on Mars' surface, or what they believe Venus to be made of, etc., etc., etc.

On a final, puerile note, I don't recollect where I first saw this and I don't have a source to who created it but by crikey it makes me snigger:

Motivation

I told myself I was going to set myself a blog challenge and blog every day but I am terrible at motivating myself.
I should really work on that I suppose, although I was the same in school so I am beginning to wonder if all hope is lost, which is leading me to question my decision to do an Open University degree.
I mean I started a night school class in Astronomy and they've only set homework once and I didn't do it. I suck. Hey, at least I know this. Maybe I should do the first course and see how I go. Maybe I'll surprise myself. Stranger things have happened.
Although I'm trying to remember the last time I was surprised and I can't remember when that was.
No wait! I was properly surprised by the dream I had last night.
I dreamt that I was pulling into my Dad's driveway, except that he was living in the house I grew up in, where he never actually lived. Anyway, there were all these random cars in the driveway and I was really confused.
When I got out of the car there were women waiting to hug me, they were women I knew but through other people, friends of friends and friends of family.
They were hugging me and telling me congratulations, but I had no idea why until I suddenly said "Oh wait! Is this a surprise hen night?" They all nodded.
Now this was a definite surprise, what with me being single and all.

Although, a couple of weeks ago I was sitting on a date in a coffee shop and went to order another couple of drinks and was openly chatted up - by a different dude!
That was rather a surprise too.

I need more surprises in my life. Only the good ones though thank you very much.
Feel free to surprise me with bouquets of flowers. Regularly.