Tuesday, 31 July 2012
Summer?
Ever the optimist: at the Olympic Archery at Lords, wearing sandals, trousers that convert to shorts, a strappy top, cardigan, leather jacket and a rain poncho.
Sunday, 29 July 2012
Knitting at the Olympics
Tonight, my knitting witnessed Senegal beat Uruguay 2:0 at Wembley. In a few minutes we'll see Great Britain play the UAE - a great evening of football at the Olympics.
Saturday, 28 July 2012
Olympic Fever
Did you watch the Opening Ceremony last night? We watched it from the start at 9pm to the finish at 1am. What did you think? Didn't Danny Boyle do us proud? I thought it was brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! Nothing twee or cringe-making. The segment when the LSO played Chariots Of Fire and Rowan Atkinson did Mr Bean had me in stitches. (And I don't like Mr Bean.) I also loved the sketch where "James Bond" turned up to escort the Queen to the Opening Ceremony. It proves HMQ has a sense of fun.
When you think that most of the performers were volunteers, they should be really, really proud of themselves. Professionals could not have done better. The team of staff and patients(!) from Great Ormond Street Hospital were just amazing. Most of those children have chronic, long-term illnesses and here they were, centre stage at the biggest show on earth. Their faces lit up the television screen.
Danny Boyle didn't shy away, either, from being subtly political. The message "Hands off! Leave our NHS alone!" came through loud and clear. As did the statement about honouring our armed forces and our war dead. And the tribute to the victims of 7/7. What other opening ceremony has had the Secretary General of the United Nations as an active participant? Messages received loud and clear, Mr Boyle. Well done! And thank you for making them.
My first Olympic event was actually on Tuesday, when I sang in the Torch Ceremony in Ealing. The choir had to be there from 2pm for the sound check. It was stiflingly hot. We were lucky, though - they gave us a spot under the trees, right beside the path for the torch.
About two minutes later the cauldron was lit and we sang the closing number, appropriately called "Olympic Torch". It was a medley of pop songs that finished, naturally, with "We are the Champions!".
Sadly, the cauldron was extinguished within a couple of minutes of the end of the show, so I couldn't get a close up of it aflame. Within 15 minutes, the crew had started to dismantle the stage, in order to move it to the venue for Wednesday night's show. This is the best I could do:
My next Olympic event is tomorrow. We have tickets to the men's football at Wembley. As luck would have it, we get to see Team GB play. Hope they do better than their opening match. Tuesday, we will be at Lords for the archery and next Saturday (4th), we're back at Wembley for the men's football semi-final. Sadly, we don't get to the Olympic Park proper until the para-Olympics, for which we have tickets to the athletics, cycling, equestrian events and the rowing.
- Pam
When you think that most of the performers were volunteers, they should be really, really proud of themselves. Professionals could not have done better. The team of staff and patients(!) from Great Ormond Street Hospital were just amazing. Most of those children have chronic, long-term illnesses and here they were, centre stage at the biggest show on earth. Their faces lit up the television screen.
Danny Boyle didn't shy away, either, from being subtly political. The message "Hands off! Leave our NHS alone!" came through loud and clear. As did the statement about honouring our armed forces and our war dead. And the tribute to the victims of 7/7. What other opening ceremony has had the Secretary General of the United Nations as an active participant? Messages received loud and clear, Mr Boyle. Well done! And thank you for making them.
My first Olympic event was actually on Tuesday, when I sang in the Torch Ceremony in Ealing. The choir had to be there from 2pm for the sound check. It was stiflingly hot. We were lucky, though - they gave us a spot under the trees, right beside the path for the torch.
About two minutes later the cauldron was lit and we sang the closing number, appropriately called "Olympic Torch". It was a medley of pop songs that finished, naturally, with "We are the Champions!".
Sadly, the cauldron was extinguished within a couple of minutes of the end of the show, so I couldn't get a close up of it aflame. Within 15 minutes, the crew had started to dismantle the stage, in order to move it to the venue for Wednesday night's show. This is the best I could do:
- Pam
Monday, 23 July 2012
Sorry, Interweave Knits, but you lost me
Dear Interweave Knits
I am writing to tell you why, after a period of 6 years, I will not be renewing my subscription to Interweave Knits. It's definitely you, not me. The "new" layout that you've been using for the last couple of years is a total turn off. I lose the will to live while flipping through the pages to find your patterns and, when I do find them, they just look like more advertising. The patterns don't register in my mind. I can't remember a single occasion over the last year when I opened your magazine, saw something I liked, and thought "I want to knit that". More commonly I'll see something on Ravelry, look at the details and then be surprised that I didn't recognise it since it came from one of your recent editions.
This is the third layout you've had in the time I've been a subscriber. I cannot understand why you think regularly changing the layout is a good idea. You had a layout that worked just fine but you just couldn't stop messing with it, could you? Is it because, each time you get a new editor they have to put their own "branding" on the magazine, like CEOs who rebrand companies to make their mark? It makes no sense to me. If it ain't broke, don't fix it! As well as your magazine, I've been a subscriber to Vogue Knitting for well over a decade and have copies dating back to the 1980's. Throughout that time, their layout has remained constant: advertisements and editorial at the front; followed by pattern stories; and then the pattern instructions. If consistency works for Vogue Knitting, why doesn't it work for you? It works for your sister magazines, Knitscene and Interweave Crochet, who have had the same layout for as long as I've known them.
The other thing I find annoying with you is that you do not include your regular "special issues" in your subscription price. Every year, you publish Interweave Knits Accessories and Interweave Knits Holiday Knitting - don't you think your regular, overseas subscribers would like to purchase them too? If we want a copy, we have to pay DOUBLE the cover price in P&P. It's not as if you don't know you're going to produce several special issues a year - given your lead times, you'd have to schedule them at least a year in advance - so why don't you include them in your subscription? (You used to do this with Knitscene but finally saw sense and created a separate subscription-type scheme.)
It's reached the point where I dread opening your magazines and your emails (Knitting Daily). That is not good.
Good-bye.
- Pam
I am writing to tell you why, after a period of 6 years, I will not be renewing my subscription to Interweave Knits. It's definitely you, not me. The "new" layout that you've been using for the last couple of years is a total turn off. I lose the will to live while flipping through the pages to find your patterns and, when I do find them, they just look like more advertising. The patterns don't register in my mind. I can't remember a single occasion over the last year when I opened your magazine, saw something I liked, and thought "I want to knit that". More commonly I'll see something on Ravelry, look at the details and then be surprised that I didn't recognise it since it came from one of your recent editions.
This is the third layout you've had in the time I've been a subscriber. I cannot understand why you think regularly changing the layout is a good idea. You had a layout that worked just fine but you just couldn't stop messing with it, could you? Is it because, each time you get a new editor they have to put their own "branding" on the magazine, like CEOs who rebrand companies to make their mark? It makes no sense to me. If it ain't broke, don't fix it! As well as your magazine, I've been a subscriber to Vogue Knitting for well over a decade and have copies dating back to the 1980's. Throughout that time, their layout has remained constant: advertisements and editorial at the front; followed by pattern stories; and then the pattern instructions. If consistency works for Vogue Knitting, why doesn't it work for you? It works for your sister magazines, Knitscene and Interweave Crochet, who have had the same layout for as long as I've known them.
The other thing I find annoying with you is that you do not include your regular "special issues" in your subscription price. Every year, you publish Interweave Knits Accessories and Interweave Knits Holiday Knitting - don't you think your regular, overseas subscribers would like to purchase them too? If we want a copy, we have to pay DOUBLE the cover price in P&P. It's not as if you don't know you're going to produce several special issues a year - given your lead times, you'd have to schedule them at least a year in advance - so why don't you include them in your subscription? (You used to do this with Knitscene but finally saw sense and created a separate subscription-type scheme.)
It's reached the point where I dread opening your magazines and your emails (Knitting Daily). That is not good.
Good-bye.
- Pam
Sunday, 22 July 2012
Silence
Silence. Did I ever tell you how much I appreciate odd moments of silence? There is so much noise in our lives: radio, television, the neighbours, traffic, stuff on MP3 players. Sometimes, it is only when the noise stops that you can hear yourself think or listen to the wind in the trees or the birds in the garden.
Silence, is also relative. In the background, right now, I can hear our new washing machine whooshing away quietly. The last one shredded a bearing back in March and gradually got louder and louder on the spin cycle. When I called him out, our marvelous washing-machine-repair-man told me that it wasn't worth fixing because the parts would cost almost as much as a new machine, but that we could run it until it died, which might take several months and be a bit messy at the end. His solution to the noise was "Close the kitchen door". (For his honesty and that call out, I paid £15.)
A week ago, we decided that enough was enough. While it still worked, the old machine was deafeningly loud. A quick trawl on the internet and two shop visits later, we'd bought an almost-like-for-like new machine: 7kg capacity; separate temperature control (so that you can run every wash on cold water - as we do - if you want that facility); handwash woolens cycle; everything mechanical, with no mother-board to go expensively wrong.
It arrived on Friday and was immediately plumbed in and tested. It is so quiet. For the first time in months, I can be in the kitchen during a spin cycle without risking hearing damage. In fact, when a wash finished a few minutes ago, it took me a while to realise it had stopped! It is that quiet. Near silence is indeed appreciated.
- Pam
Silence, is also relative. In the background, right now, I can hear our new washing machine whooshing away quietly. The last one shredded a bearing back in March and gradually got louder and louder on the spin cycle. When I called him out, our marvelous washing-machine-repair-man told me that it wasn't worth fixing because the parts would cost almost as much as a new machine, but that we could run it until it died, which might take several months and be a bit messy at the end. His solution to the noise was "Close the kitchen door". (For his honesty and that call out, I paid £15.)
A week ago, we decided that enough was enough. While it still worked, the old machine was deafeningly loud. A quick trawl on the internet and two shop visits later, we'd bought an almost-like-for-like new machine: 7kg capacity; separate temperature control (so that you can run every wash on cold water - as we do - if you want that facility); handwash woolens cycle; everything mechanical, with no mother-board to go expensively wrong.
It arrived on Friday and was immediately plumbed in and tested. It is so quiet. For the first time in months, I can be in the kitchen during a spin cycle without risking hearing damage. In fact, when a wash finished a few minutes ago, it took me a while to realise it had stopped! It is that quiet. Near silence is indeed appreciated.
- Pam
Friday, 29 June 2012
Catching Up
What on earth happened to the last month? I've been horrendously busy and it obviously shows with my neglect of the blog. To summarise what's been happening in my life (and in order of appearance):-
June Week 1
June Week 1
- We put on a very successful RPG/games convention during the first weekend of the month. I even got to play two games. Fortunately, it was the Queen's Jubilee Bank Holiday weekend (a 4-day-er) and we needed the extra two days off to recover.
- HMQ celebrated her Diamond Jubilee. We recorded the river pageant and watched it on the Monday. (The Guardian has good photos, here.) I am glad we didn't try to go and watch. Not only wouldn't we have seen anything with 1 million people lining the Thames, the rain was torrential! I think I spotted an old friend, Mark Nixon, in amongst the rowers on the Gloriana. However, try as I might, I can't find a full list of the rowers so can't confirm it. Mark is certainly qualified to be there - he's an Olympic rowing medalist.
- Watched the concert at Buckingham Palace, live on the telly. Please can someone tell Sir Cliff Richard that his voice has reached the embarrassingly bad stage and he should hang up his microphone. HMQ had the good sense not to arrive until after his set. That was planned, although I didn't know it until later and was worrying that there was bad news about Phil-the-Greek (i.e. that "bladder infection" was being used as a euphemism for something far more serious). Spotted Prince Charles looking drawn and wiping his eyes at the back of the royal box. Told DH, "Uh-oh, looks like bad news" and then the Queen walked out all smiles. Charlie's tears must have been from relief! (Or from suffering from Cliff.)
- Had an out-of-schedule rehearsal for the ECS concert on 16th June. We spent most of the evening practising the new commission, Sea and Stars, composed by Julian Phillips with libretto by Simon Christmas. Oh my God, did we need it. We were still a bit lost - really needed to rehearse with the orchestra but that never happens until the orchestral rehearsal on the day of the concert, which means that the first time we hear all our cues is less than 4 hours before we sing it in concert. The balance of the concert is Brahm's Deutsche Requiem (sang it for the first time in May and absolutely adore it).
- This week can best be described as one big sing. It started with choir rehearsals and finished with the concert. We rehearsed on Monday, Friday and the afternoon before the concert. We had been doubly cursed: concert hall scheduling means this concert was only 6 weeks after our last; and Julian was very ill at the end of last year when we'd had free time to work on the new composition, with the knock-on effect that we didn't get our scores until that window had passed. By Friday night, Jonny, our conductor looked exhausted.
- In the middle of all that, we bought a new car. No, not to replace Toy. It's for DH. "Frank" is a top of the range Skoda Fabia diesel, complete with climate control, lots of cup holders, a chiller cabinet in the lower glove box and an allergy to fuel that rivals Toy's. He is the latest model but was registered in 2011 and had just over 10,000 miles on the clock, which meant we paid one third less than the current list price. I abused my Tesco credit card - bought Frank on it to get maximum clubcard points - then abused another credit card by transferring this payment at 0% balance for 11 months. With a 3.5% fee, it's far cheaper than a car loan and he'll be almost paid off by the time it expires.
- My sister arrived from Australia just in time to come to my concert! I walked onto the stage at the Cadogan Hall on the Saturday to see Eldest, BIL, DH and two friends doing a Mexican wave in the balcony. After the interval, they spelt out my name using the gestures from Village People's YMCA.
- The New Commission: Sea and Stars went well, especially considering we'd only had one rehearsal with the orchestra and soloists. I must say, while the orchestra did a really good job, they looked as confused as we frequently did when they rehearsed the ending. Oddly enough, I found that rather reassuring. The performance went well, which is the main thing. Not much "cat scratch music"; plenty of melodic orchestra (think Dr Zhivago meets English Patient). I do think, though, that we missed a trick: this isn't a piece that'll go into the general choral repertoire; it's more a piece for soloists and orchestra with choral backing vocals. And that is unfortunate. I thought the idea was that we'd commission a piece that other choral societies would want to sing but this isn't it. The choir's part doesn't have a tune to reel you in. Pity.
- The Brahms was beautiful as always. I do love it. Twice, the altos sing a phrase that is so beauitful it brings tears to my eyes.
- Sunday, we had some friends around for a BBQ, in order to introduce them to Eldest and BIL. Most had met BIL before, since he visits us every couple of years and was over at Easter. It was a sunny, warm afternoon - the first for almost a month.
- Took Monday off to spend some time with Eldest and BIL. Went to the butcher in the morning and finally lost at freezer tetris. Couldn't fit a shoulder of lamb in the freezer, no matter what I tried. Shoe-horned in all the other meat.
- Tuesday, we all went to Royal Ascot. Here's the Australian contingent, all dressed up:
- Saw the Queen in the distance:
- As usual at Ascot, failed to back any winners. Maintained my perfect score of "Nil Points" (say it in French, to match Britain's Eurovision score). I can't even win a raffle at Ascot. The first time I went to the racing at Ascot, I was a guest in one of the boxes. My hosts had numerous "prizes" for the guests during the day. I didn't win one. (There were 12 guests.)
- Did I tell you how great it is to have Eldest and BIL stay? I love them both to bits.
- Monday night was my re-audition for the choir. This is the first one I've done. I was incredibly nervous. Fortunately, we now re-audition in small groups, so I could pitch off the others. Unfortunately, one of the altos in my group has a vibrato that irritates the hell out of me. (She's a nice lady; I just don't like her voice.) Jonny was smiling encouragingly, but I had no idea how I did on the night. (I found out today that I was successful.)
- Eldest and BIL hired a car on Sunday and went down the south coast for a few days, returning on Wednesday. I worked from home on Wednesday morning so that I could collect them from the drop-off point at Heathrow. Managed to get quite a bit done, even though I didn't have that much on the to-do list (it's the quiet end of the month).
- Wednesday night, we went for dinner at the Hinds Head in Bray. It's one of Heston Blumenthal's establishments; a country pub which offers a silver-service dining experience. The food was wonderful.; the staff were friendly and attentive. I will definitely be going back.
- Thursday we all took the day off and went to Oxford. Wandered around Christ Church, took photos of the Great Hall (reproduced in the Harry Potter films), and generally wished I was 17 again and smart enough to get selected to be an undergraduate there. I'll stick a photo or two of the hall below this post so you can see it is real (they're still on my phone).
- Eldest and BIL left this morning to fly to New York. We drove them to the airport before heading on to work. I didn't cry, because that would have set us all off, but I really wanted to. I miss them so much. It was great having them here and being able to sit and chat for hours.
Friday, 1 June 2012
A pact with myself
Let's start with a touch of cynicism. At one point earlier this week, I found myself uttering, "to become what you want to be, you have to model the behaviours of that person". At which point, I cringed, buried my head in my hands, apologised to my colleagues and groaned, "Oh, God! I sound like a psychologist!".
For two days, I was on a safety leadership course at work. When you strip away the cringe-making jargon and the trainer-speak ("Let's begin a conversation about safety"), it was an interesting, thought provoking two days. Being me, a lot of the thoughts it provoked had little to do with safety, something to do with work and a lot to do with my own personal goals. I kept that train of thought simmering underneath, returning time and again to those fateful words, "to become what you want to be, you have to model the behaviours of that person". What person do I want to be? How do I get there?
What do those words mean, anyway? "To become what you want to be, you have to model the behaviours of that person." I decided it meant that, if you wanted to be a successful student, you had to do what successful students do, i.e. schedule and keep study sessions even when you didn't want to. If you want to be a fit, healthy person, then you had to make exercise a priority. To be a success at anything, you have to work out what the successful people do and then copy that behaviour - it's not enough to coast along or to expect others to carry you with them. To be the best you can be, you have to do what the best do. It doesn't mean a 46 year old couch potato will become an Olympic marathon runner, but it does mean that she'll become the best running version of herself that she can be.
Eventually, I decided to make a pact with myself. I have neither the time nor the energy to tackle all mydaydreams goals at once, so I have picked three. For June only, I will focus on my singing (as well as a concert on 16th June, I have my re-audition in four weeks), learning French and the so-called "Nebulous Fitness Goal". So, starting Monday here is what I'll do:-
For two days, I was on a safety leadership course at work. When you strip away the cringe-making jargon and the trainer-speak ("Let's begin a conversation about safety"), it was an interesting, thought provoking two days. Being me, a lot of the thoughts it provoked had little to do with safety, something to do with work and a lot to do with my own personal goals. I kept that train of thought simmering underneath, returning time and again to those fateful words, "to become what you want to be, you have to model the behaviours of that person". What person do I want to be? How do I get there?
What do those words mean, anyway? "To become what you want to be, you have to model the behaviours of that person." I decided it meant that, if you wanted to be a successful student, you had to do what successful students do, i.e. schedule and keep study sessions even when you didn't want to. If you want to be a fit, healthy person, then you had to make exercise a priority. To be a success at anything, you have to work out what the successful people do and then copy that behaviour - it's not enough to coast along or to expect others to carry you with them. To be the best you can be, you have to do what the best do. It doesn't mean a 46 year old couch potato will become an Olympic marathon runner, but it does mean that she'll become the best running version of herself that she can be.
Eventually, I decided to make a pact with myself. I have neither the time nor the energy to tackle all my
- I will rehearse for 30 minutes a day, focussing on the concert pieces (Brahm's German Requiem and Phillips' Sea and Stars), since not only do I need to know them very well for the concert BUT they'll form the basis of my reaudition. Official choir rehearsals will count as a singing session.
- Spend 10 minutes a day using the French flash-cards app on my phone to learn some vocabulary. I'll write a review once I've played with it a bit.
- Every morning before work, I'll do the 20-minutes Move More workout. That will entail getting up at 5.30am but as I'm usually awake by then, I'll just need to move my butt out of bed.
Tuesday, 22 May 2012
Excuse me, I'm lost.
Somewhere in Paris near the Sorbonne, 10.35pm.
Sounds so glamorous, doesn't it?
Telling your business unit management, "Sorry, can't make your meeting. I'm going to Paris for a training course" has a certain ring to it. It conjures up the Eiffel Tower, the Seine and the Isle de la Cite. Just shut your eyes for a second and picture it. Beautiful, elegant women in chic clothes; handsome, charming men.
[Sigh]
The reality is so different.
Paris, like other large cities, has its posh, glamorous bits (where the tourists go), and its hard working, commercial centres (where visitors only go if they have to for work). Just as I wouldn't expect a tourist to go to Dandenong or Slough, you won't find them anywhere near our Paris office. Unless they were lost.
The office is out by the Peripherique, miles from anywhere that you may have seen in the movies. It could be anywhere in the western world - you wouldn't know until someone spoke. I've spent most of today in a sub-basement meeting room. No window. No view.
Welcome to the real Paris. About as far from glamour as you can get.
-Pam
PS: On the bright side, I have some great colleagues and I've enjoyed catching up with them. We're voting to have a project accounts meeting in Barcelona (no chance of that but one can dream).
Sounds so glamorous, doesn't it?
Telling your business unit management, "Sorry, can't make your meeting. I'm going to Paris for a training course" has a certain ring to it. It conjures up the Eiffel Tower, the Seine and the Isle de la Cite. Just shut your eyes for a second and picture it. Beautiful, elegant women in chic clothes; handsome, charming men.
[Sigh]
The reality is so different.
Paris, like other large cities, has its posh, glamorous bits (where the tourists go), and its hard working, commercial centres (where visitors only go if they have to for work). Just as I wouldn't expect a tourist to go to Dandenong or Slough, you won't find them anywhere near our Paris office. Unless they were lost.
The office is out by the Peripherique, miles from anywhere that you may have seen in the movies. It could be anywhere in the western world - you wouldn't know until someone spoke. I've spent most of today in a sub-basement meeting room. No window. No view.
Welcome to the real Paris. About as far from glamour as you can get.
-Pam
PS: On the bright side, I have some great colleagues and I've enjoyed catching up with them. We're voting to have a project accounts meeting in Barcelona (no chance of that but one can dream).
Monday, 21 May 2012
Update on the Use-It-Up Challenge
Makeup
The panstick is long gone and I'm now using up the final bottle of the famous Boots score from 2004. When I first started using it, it seemed a little watery but after 2 or 3 days it is back to the consistency that I remember. Since I started using it in March, I expect it to run out some time in December. Not bad for 50p.
On the blusher front, I finally chucked out the dregs of the Clinique powder blusher. There was a little bit left but it would not load onto the blusher brush. I'm now using up the Estee Lauder free-bees. The darker of the two shades has already been partially used (it looks good with a tan).
Toiletries
(Note: All my main toiletries get poured into 500ml recycled, pump-action soap dispensers. That way, I can get a consistent quantity every day, which makes it last longer. 3 pumps of shampoo. 6 pumps of hair conditioner. 2 pumps of body lotion, etc.)
I have a huge stockpile of those little sample-sized bottles you get in hotels: shampoo, conditioner, body wash and body lotion. They were all piled onto the lid of the plastic box we used to use to house towels in the bathroom. In March, in an effort to tidy them up and to organise them, I sorted them all into separate boxes/drawer inserts using the punnet-type boxes that mushrooms come in. They're now stored in our "new" bathroom cupboard (a cupboard I paid £10 for in a charity shop, which DH refinished).
So far, I've completely conquered the hair conditioner stockpile. Admittedly, it was one of the smallest since most hotels don't provide hair conditioner. We had 7 plus two Dove samples I scored elsewhere. One bottle went to Oman with me, while the others were drained into the hair conditioner dispenser. Since they were so thick, I added water to increase the volume by about a third and shook the dispenser like mad. The result was a thick and creamy hair conditioner that lasted me 6 weeks of daily hair washings.
My litre bottle of Value shampoo ran out on Saturday (it lasted 7 months), so I refilled that dispenser with hotel samples, which took hours. In the end, the easiest way was to balance each bottle in the neck of the dispenser and let gravity do its stuff. Seventeen bottles later and the dispenser was full. (There are at least 10 more.) I'd been a bit worried about the smell because I knew some of the samples were scented, however I gave it a good shake to blend and, so far, it doesn't smell of very much at all, just some sort of clean shampoo smell. It's quite thick, too, but spreads well which is a bonus. (The Value stuff was quite gloopy.)
I'm almost out of body lotion, so that is the next stockpile to use up. Then it will be the turn of the shower gel.
- Pam
The panstick is long gone and I'm now using up the final bottle of the famous Boots score from 2004. When I first started using it, it seemed a little watery but after 2 or 3 days it is back to the consistency that I remember. Since I started using it in March, I expect it to run out some time in December. Not bad for 50p.
On the blusher front, I finally chucked out the dregs of the Clinique powder blusher. There was a little bit left but it would not load onto the blusher brush. I'm now using up the Estee Lauder free-bees. The darker of the two shades has already been partially used (it looks good with a tan).
Toiletries
(Note: All my main toiletries get poured into 500ml recycled, pump-action soap dispensers. That way, I can get a consistent quantity every day, which makes it last longer. 3 pumps of shampoo. 6 pumps of hair conditioner. 2 pumps of body lotion, etc.)
I have a huge stockpile of those little sample-sized bottles you get in hotels: shampoo, conditioner, body wash and body lotion. They were all piled onto the lid of the plastic box we used to use to house towels in the bathroom. In March, in an effort to tidy them up and to organise them, I sorted them all into separate boxes/drawer inserts using the punnet-type boxes that mushrooms come in. They're now stored in our "new" bathroom cupboard (a cupboard I paid £10 for in a charity shop, which DH refinished).
So far, I've completely conquered the hair conditioner stockpile. Admittedly, it was one of the smallest since most hotels don't provide hair conditioner. We had 7 plus two Dove samples I scored elsewhere. One bottle went to Oman with me, while the others were drained into the hair conditioner dispenser. Since they were so thick, I added water to increase the volume by about a third and shook the dispenser like mad. The result was a thick and creamy hair conditioner that lasted me 6 weeks of daily hair washings.
My litre bottle of Value shampoo ran out on Saturday (it lasted 7 months), so I refilled that dispenser with hotel samples, which took hours. In the end, the easiest way was to balance each bottle in the neck of the dispenser and let gravity do its stuff. Seventeen bottles later and the dispenser was full. (There are at least 10 more.) I'd been a bit worried about the smell because I knew some of the samples were scented, however I gave it a good shake to blend and, so far, it doesn't smell of very much at all, just some sort of clean shampoo smell. It's quite thick, too, but spreads well which is a bonus. (The Value stuff was quite gloopy.)
I'm almost out of body lotion, so that is the next stockpile to use up. Then it will be the turn of the shower gel.
- Pam
Friday, 11 May 2012
Windscreen Number Five, Please
At least that's all it is. It could have been a lot worse.
Thursday of last week, just after 7pm, I was driving home on the M4. There wasn't a huge amount of traffic. It was dull and overcast. No rain for once. I was in the middle lane, having just overtaken a lorry, doing around 70 mph. Maybe a little higher than that, but not by much. I remember the view from my rear vision mirror and I don't recall seeing any cars behind me, just the lorry over towards my left. I debated pulling in to the left hand lane, like a good driver.
Suddenly, out of nowhere (so it must have been going fast), a black Fiat (possibly a Punto) sped past me on my right. A car length or two ahead of me, it cut the bend a bit fine and went over the rumble strip onto the central reservation. Over-corrected and swerved into my lane. Over-corrected again and, in slow motion, went into the central reservation, hit the barrier, spun and bounced to a stop.
Self preservation kicked in somewhere between the second over-correction and the car hitting the barrier, and I was already moving over to my left before the car spun and a cloud of debris went flying over the road and over the Toy. For a few seconds, I braced myself for the impact of the car hitting the side of the Toy. Or possibly its front bumper. But the only things that landed were large pebbles about 2 inches across. The lorry behind me pulled over onto the hard shoulder. I pulled over onto the hard shoulder. And stopped. Hazards on. Hands shaking. Grabbed my phone and dialled 999.
"Emergency. Which service do you require?"
"There's been an accident on the M4, east bound near Junction 8-9. Car drove into the central barrier," I gabbled.
"Which service do you require? Police? Fire? Ambulance? I can only put you through."
"Police," I replied. A bit calmer. Got put through to the police and repeated what I'd told the operator. Then told the officer what had happened.
"Are there any other vehicles involved?"
"No. But there's bound to be a shunt at the far end of the queue shortly."
The lorry drove off.
Got out of the car and started walking back down the road to the nearest mile-marker, in order to give the police a more accurate location. Told the officer what I could see. A couple of men had stopped their cars and stopped the traffic. They got the driver out of the car and on to the hard shoulder. As I got closer, I could see it was a woman.
I was still talking to the police when one of the men came up to me and told me to move my car. They were going to direct the traffic onto the left hand lane and the hard shoulder, effectively creating two lanes so that cars could get passed. I told him I was talking to the police and was told, "Someone has already done that", I was told bossily. So, I reported to the police officer that one of her colleagues was also or had also logged a call about the same accident. Then told her what the men were doing.
Walked back to the Toy. The others who'd stopped, moved their cars into the centre of the road, in front of the smashed up car. Traffic started moving around it and the debris field. There was no way I could get the Toy safely back towards the accident to wait for the police to arrive. And it wasn't safe to stay where we were. I asked the officer for permission to leave the scene of the accident. Permission granted. They have my details, if they need me, and I have a case number if I need them.
My phone tells me that the call lasted 6 minutes.
I drove off with my hands shaking. Got home and checked the Toy. A couple of chips in his paintwork, that's all. It wasn't until I got to work on Friday morning that I noticed a crack in the bottom right hand corner of his windscreen. That windscreen was replaced today. He's now on his 5th.
A very lucky escape.
- Pam
Thursday of last week, just after 7pm, I was driving home on the M4. There wasn't a huge amount of traffic. It was dull and overcast. No rain for once. I was in the middle lane, having just overtaken a lorry, doing around 70 mph. Maybe a little higher than that, but not by much. I remember the view from my rear vision mirror and I don't recall seeing any cars behind me, just the lorry over towards my left. I debated pulling in to the left hand lane, like a good driver.
Suddenly, out of nowhere (so it must have been going fast), a black Fiat (possibly a Punto) sped past me on my right. A car length or two ahead of me, it cut the bend a bit fine and went over the rumble strip onto the central reservation. Over-corrected and swerved into my lane. Over-corrected again and, in slow motion, went into the central reservation, hit the barrier, spun and bounced to a stop.
Self preservation kicked in somewhere between the second over-correction and the car hitting the barrier, and I was already moving over to my left before the car spun and a cloud of debris went flying over the road and over the Toy. For a few seconds, I braced myself for the impact of the car hitting the side of the Toy. Or possibly its front bumper. But the only things that landed were large pebbles about 2 inches across. The lorry behind me pulled over onto the hard shoulder. I pulled over onto the hard shoulder. And stopped. Hazards on. Hands shaking. Grabbed my phone and dialled 999.
"Emergency. Which service do you require?"
"There's been an accident on the M4, east bound near Junction 8-9. Car drove into the central barrier," I gabbled.
"Which service do you require? Police? Fire? Ambulance? I can only put you through."
"Police," I replied. A bit calmer. Got put through to the police and repeated what I'd told the operator. Then told the officer what had happened.
"Are there any other vehicles involved?"
"No. But there's bound to be a shunt at the far end of the queue shortly."
The lorry drove off.
Got out of the car and started walking back down the road to the nearest mile-marker, in order to give the police a more accurate location. Told the officer what I could see. A couple of men had stopped their cars and stopped the traffic. They got the driver out of the car and on to the hard shoulder. As I got closer, I could see it was a woman.
I was still talking to the police when one of the men came up to me and told me to move my car. They were going to direct the traffic onto the left hand lane and the hard shoulder, effectively creating two lanes so that cars could get passed. I told him I was talking to the police and was told, "Someone has already done that", I was told bossily. So, I reported to the police officer that one of her colleagues was also or had also logged a call about the same accident. Then told her what the men were doing.
Walked back to the Toy. The others who'd stopped, moved their cars into the centre of the road, in front of the smashed up car. Traffic started moving around it and the debris field. There was no way I could get the Toy safely back towards the accident to wait for the police to arrive. And it wasn't safe to stay where we were. I asked the officer for permission to leave the scene of the accident. Permission granted. They have my details, if they need me, and I have a case number if I need them.
My phone tells me that the call lasted 6 minutes.
I drove off with my hands shaking. Got home and checked the Toy. A couple of chips in his paintwork, that's all. It wasn't until I got to work on Friday morning that I noticed a crack in the bottom right hand corner of his windscreen. That windscreen was replaced today. He's now on his 5th.
A very lucky escape.
- Pam
Sunday, 6 May 2012
The Concert
Just realised that I didn't post about the concert. What can I say? Wow! Just "Wow!" sums it up pretty well. :). DH took some photos for me from the audience - I'll put one or two up tomorrow when I can liberate them from his camera.
For a start, it was an ambitious program. Both Poulenc's Gloria and Walton's Belshazzar's Feast are BIG pieces. Big sings. Most choirs would only tackle one in a concert. We did both successfully.
The Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra were fabulous. Sixty-odd musicians who actually followed the conductor. (In my experience, not a common occurrence with professional musicians and a guest conductor.)
The concert hall gives back a very different sound quality when occupied by an audience. Much less rich. Moe dead. As a result, we struggled with the Poulenc - the third movement was harder to pitch so we went flat. Per our conductor, we recovered well and went back on key. It is such a beautiful piece of music and deserves to be better known. Have a look for the University of Utah's production on YouTube - well worth a listen.
Belshazzar's Feast was wonderful. The best we'd ever sung it. It was actually quite disappointing to get to the end and realise it was over. It finished much too fast for my liking - I'd have enjoyed going on for longer.
Our next concert is the Brahm's German Requiem at the Cadogan Hall in June. Same orchestra. Can't wait!
- Pam
For a start, it was an ambitious program. Both Poulenc's Gloria and Walton's Belshazzar's Feast are BIG pieces. Big sings. Most choirs would only tackle one in a concert. We did both successfully.
The Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra were fabulous. Sixty-odd musicians who actually followed the conductor. (In my experience, not a common occurrence with professional musicians and a guest conductor.)
The concert hall gives back a very different sound quality when occupied by an audience. Much less rich. Moe dead. As a result, we struggled with the Poulenc - the third movement was harder to pitch so we went flat. Per our conductor, we recovered well and went back on key. It is such a beautiful piece of music and deserves to be better known. Have a look for the University of Utah's production on YouTube - well worth a listen.
Belshazzar's Feast was wonderful. The best we'd ever sung it. It was actually quite disappointing to get to the end and realise it was over. It finished much too fast for my liking - I'd have enjoyed going on for longer.
Our next concert is the Brahm's German Requiem at the Cadogan Hall in June. Same orchestra. Can't wait!
- Pam
Wednesday, 2 May 2012
New Month Resolutions
Last week I decided in a fit of new month resolutions, that I should once again become a keeper of lists. I have all sorts of lists in mind: some aimed at chalking up achievements (miles walked, "road kill" coins found); others aimed at becoming more organised (a pantry stocktake, cataloguing my books). I think the idea was inspired by the signature blocks of the people on Moneysavingexpert.com, where people track absolutely everything they think relevant in order to meet their goals.
I've started with counting Weight Watchers points (again), micro-budgeting and counting up my road kill coins. Am also watching my accounts like a hawk. I'll start recording my miles walked when I actually do some.
I guess my main motivation is the thought that how can you tell how far you have come, if you don't know/remember where you were when you started?
How about you? How and what do you track?
- Pam (spreadsheet queen)
I've started with counting Weight Watchers points (again), micro-budgeting and counting up my road kill coins. Am also watching my accounts like a hawk. I'll start recording my miles walked when I actually do some.
I guess my main motivation is the thought that how can you tell how far you have come, if you don't know/remember where you were when you started?
How about you? How and what do you track?
- Pam (spreadsheet queen)
Saturday, 28 April 2012
Singer
Tonight is the biggest concert I have participated in since I returned to singing in 2004. Tonight I'm singing with the Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra at the Queen Elizabeth Hall in London's Southbank Centre. Tonight, Dr Jonathan Williams is conducting Walton's Belshazzar's Feast and Poulenc's Gloria, and I'll be singing in the second row of the chorus.
Wish us luck!
Pam (both nervous and excited)
Wish us luck!
Pam (both nervous and excited)
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