Things that blow my mind

Space. It is literally mindblowing. There so much of it. There are so many universes and planets and stars and it goes on and on. When that guy skydived from space to earth… My mind EXPLODED! Sometimes I can’t even watch space programmes on TV because there is SO much to understand, I don’t even know where to start. It’s so epic.

Telescopes. Same as space, sort of. I just can’t believe how I can look in a little tube thing in my garden and see something quite clearly that is a billion billion hundred million miles away in the sky. (Don’t quote me on that figure.)

Bees. Of the last ten days on my blog, I think four have been about bees. They’re so amazing.

The Romans. The fact that so much of what they made survives today. The fact that they got to so many places around the world. The systems they invented which still exist today, eg the rule of law.

The people at Pompeii. Because that’s real actual people who were actually alive two thousand actual years ago. And actually had lives and walked around Pompeii as real people and lived there. Actually lived there. Mind blowing.

I asked Danda what he thought I should write next and he said, “Danda.”

I asked, “Cause you drive a taxi so well?”

He said, “No, because I just blow your mind. I’m just amazing. I’m just. Amazing. And I make a good cup of tea.”

Now, this is true. He does make a good cup of tea. So he is allowed on the list.

Things Trumpkin says

About a week ago, I attempted another challenge from my book called Going Greener by Simon Gear. He asked me to have a cup of tea in the garden. It was about appreciating nature and also getting know the garden all year round. When I woke up on the day I intended to do it, it had rained and looked freezing. So I stayed in bed instead.

This morning, I thought, let’s go for it again, get a jumper on and let’s do this! The last few days have been scorchio so I felt confident it would be nice for my challenge.

And then I woke up this morning and came downstairs and…..

Yeh, I’m regretting putting that towel out on the line now.

And so, the back up plan comes into play. It’s similar to another post I wrote last week, about my favourite quotes from Narnia but today I’m specifically focussing on one character from the fourth book, Prince Caspian, a red dwarf called Trumpkin. You’ll see why I’ve chosen him to quote.

“Horns and halibuts!” exclaimed Trumpkin.

“Bulbs and bolsters!” he thought.

“Whistles and whirligigs!” said Trumpkin.

“Thimbles and thunderstorms!” he cried.

“Lobsters and lollipops!” he muttered.

“Giants and junipers!” Trumpkin shouted.

“Tubs and tortoiseshells!” said Trumpkin.

“Cobbles and kettledrums!” he shouted.

“Wraiths and wreckage!” exclaimed Trumpkin.

“Weights and water-bottles!” came Trumpkin’s angry voice.

Brilliant, aren’t they? We really should speak like this again.

So if you get annoyed at any point today, feel free to use any one of these phrases to exclaim, to show your annoyance. It also works for situations in which you are shocked or excited.

400!

Good morning everyone. Today is quite a significant day in my blogging career. It’s half way to 800. It’s two times 200. It’s one more than 399 and one less than 401. Not guessed it yet? Well, let me tell you.

It’s my 400th post today!

Now you’re either thinking one of two things about this fact.

1. Wow, that’s impressive. What a lot of interesting things she has to say.

2. Omygoodness, that’s a lot of nonsense.

To mark the occasion, I debated a few different possibilities. The favourite amongst my friends was to stuff 400 mini marshmallows in my mouth and photograph it. As I am sadly lacking in mini marshmallows and the shops open late on Sundays, I shall have to shelf that idea until it’s time for another significant post, 500 maybe?

The next idea was do something with 400 of my worms, I’m not sure what. Put them on a plate and photograph them maybe? But as the worms have only just been put in their new home (a proper worm bin as opposed to their previous home, a saucepan) and they were very naughty before then, I feel they need a bit longer on the naughty step before being allowed to join in the blogging fun. Honestly, it’s like having hundreds of naughty little schoolchildren. I’m like a babysitter. The other night I came home from an evening out and they had escaped and were everywhere – the kitchen floor, the outside toilet, the garden, some were even hiding inside the mop. Naughty worms.

I thought about climbing 400 steps but I’m quite comfy here on the sofa.

I thought about drinking 400 cups of tea but I’ve heard that you can drown yourself if you drink more than 26 in a day.

I thought about reading a page from 400 different books but it’s my first day at Ham House today so time is limited.

So I thought I’d refashion a post I did ages ago, called Things I Have Learned. For the following to make sense, you’re best reading the original first. And, if I’m clever, I’ll make it exactly 400 words. Look, it’s Sunday morning and it’s the best I can offer. Get over it.

Here goes…

1. My post is never as big as I think it is (or rather, ‘hope’ as I look longingly at other blogs and their posts filled with wisdom and then at my little silly ones about Taylor Swift).

2. Most people are a little bit bored by blogs about how to blog. As a new blogger, I lapped them up. Now I’m not really so keen. I don’t get anything about the blogger in these ‘advice’ blogs.

3. People like to shorten words (e.g. ‘NaNoWriMo’ or ‘NaBloPoMo’ or ‘NeeNorNeeNor’)

4. Missing a typo is horrible. Especially if the typo is talking about someone you did yesterday instead of something.

5. Writing a post that people notice is a fine art.

6. Most bloggers thrive off the drama in their lives. Cause then they can blog it.

7. Blogging makes you feel better.

8. Sometimes, blogging all your problems is the worst thing you can do.

9. Making your own chicken stock is more trouble than it’s worth. (No, I know this doesn’t relate to blogging but it’s still a fact.)

10. If you can’t make it good, don’t post it. Save it til later and sort it out then.

O! And one more…

11. Denying the existence of a rubbish post doesn’t mean it’s not there.

Umm. It’s not 400 words. It’s way more. O well. Shoot me.

Two year anniversary

Today is two years since I got the biggest shock of my life.

Two years since being driven by a worried Danda at 2am to hospital with stomach pains.

Two years since having an unreasonable number of doctors look in places I would never have dreamed they needed to look!

Two years since I was stuck all over with needles which would live inside me for next six days, leaving me tiny scars that are still visible today.

Two years since a lovely kind doctor approached me with the terrifying news that he’d have to stick a tube down my nose and to my stomach to empty it.

Two years since being told I was next in the operating theatre and waking up hours later, literally stapled back together.

Two years since the every day functions of life were torn from me and I needed nurses to wash me, a tube to feed me and a catheter to wee.

Two years since being put on a geriatric ward and becoming a delirious TV addict with access to self medicating pain killer.

Two years since developing a fear of food and living off a spoonful of mash a day.

Two years since I became unable to stand for more than a few seconds without being exhausted.

Two years since telling Danda, “I don’t wanna go a walkies.”

And two years since I thought things were falling apart.

But they didn’t. Wonderful things happened. Friends and family were all mixed together and stuffed into a cubicle during visiting hours and it was brilliant. I would never have invited that combination of people to be together anywhere but I had no control over this and it turned out really really well.

Danda visited every day. Every single day. Every available visit. Twice a day. Him and my brother paid for vouchers so I could watch the TV or make phone calls, which I did. I made long rambling morphine-induced phone calls where I babbled and sniffled and sobbed and raged.

When I tried to understand the logic in what had happened to me and needed someone to blame or hate, everywhere there were people ready to support me and let me rage at them and at everything.

When I hobbled down the road for a cup of tea at the deli, fellow customers came to sit with me, bought me lunch, kept my spirits up when I felt low.

The doctors who repackaged my wide open scar every day were supportive and kept up constant chatter while I looked in horror at my insides on show!

And while it would be an exaggeration to say the process was a good one or that I’m glad it happened, if it had to happen, I had the best possible experience of it.

And now, right now, where I am in my life at this minute, I can’t remember ever feeling this great. Things are just lovely. I don’t have the anxiety of the teenage and early 20’s years. I don’t have the indecision of university years. I don’t have to always ask myself ‘what I’m going to do with My Life.’

And things are nice now. Very nice. I cook. I bake. I eat. I write. I read.

Two years ago, I thought I’d be angry forever over what happened to me. But I’m not. I’m just very happy and chilled out.

Why I would be no good in Narnia

I definitely wouldn’t have gone that far into the wardrobe, for starters. There’s nothing Lucy likes so much as the feel of fur, we are told. So she climbs in the wardrobe and gets in among the fur coats, pushing her way further in so she can feel the furry goodness all around her. I, on the other hand, am not so passionate about fur. I might have stuck my hand or arm in for a second or two, then left. I certainly would not have physically climbed into the wardrobe.

I’m not that keen on Turkish Delight. Don’t get me wrong. Turkish Delight is fine and nice in its own way but I definitely wouldn’t have gone to the extremes that Edmund did to get some more.

I don’t say “Blast and botheration” enough. Digory, in The Magician’s Nephew says this line fairly near the start of the adventure, at a point where I would have said something like, “This sucks,” which I don’t think is child-friendly reading.

Even if I had gotten all the way into Narnia, I probably would have explained it away by saying I must have found my way outside in a freak snowstorm and never gone back.

Instead of going off to find Aslan and make friends, I probably would have concluded that lions are not the safest creatures to have as friends and stayed home, leaving everyone else to the adventures.

I don’t eat enough large spreads of bread, butter, freshly caught fish, currant buns and tea, made for me by woodland creatures. I much prefer something beautiful and dainty and, so far as I know, no-one in Narnia has been awarded a Michelin star yet. You probably can’t even get truffles.

Susan would annoy me too much. She’s always moaning.

Once inside the wardrobe and having found Narnia, I would have had to nip back to this world to get a book to read and probably would never have got back in again.

If I’d have found Aslan and he’d said I had to fight a battle against the baddies, I probably would have insisted he got the army in to do it and pottered off to the castle to wait for a text message to say they’d won.

When crowned, I would have requested that I be called Laura The Abominable Snow-woman, just for fun, which would have annoyed serious Peter and boring Susan, I think.

There aren’t enough mentions of cups of tea in Narnia.

“I’m alright”

I have a friend who doesn’t understand why I say this when I do. Actually, neither can I. But I say ‘I’m alright’ as a reply to questions quite often. Examples are:

Friend: “Laura, would like a cup of tea?”
Me: “I’m alright.”

Friend: “This programme is a bit boring. Would you like to watch something else on TV?”
Laura: “I’m alright. I’m studying anyway.”

Friend: “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
Me: “I’m alright, thanks. I’d better get home and study.”

I’m alright?! How is that synonymous with ‘yes’ or ‘no’? I use it to mean ‘no’ but why? Why is telling someone what your mood is like the same as saying ‘no, thank you’? The friend who gets annoyed always replies with, “Yes, I know you’re alright. But would you like a cup of tea?” He says that unless I’m really crying or have mentioned that I’m not feeling good for any reason, he can presume that I’m alright. But that’s not the conversation he was having. He’s asking me if I want something.

But I can’t help it. It just comes out when I’m answering a question. ‘I’m alright,’ I say, as if it’s an answer. I guess it means, ‘I’m alright without it.’ That’s still not satisfactory because lots of things I’m ‘alright’ without but I still want them. I’m ‘alright’ without the cup of tea, no big disaster is going to happen, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want one. So no, it doesn’t really make a lot of sense, no.

I definitely used to say ‘I’m good’ to mean the same thing. I remember being on a driving lesson and saying it. Driving instructor said something about lessons next week, was I going to book an extra one, or something, and I said, ‘I’m good’ to mean no.

It’s like there are two different conversations going on. One person is saying, ‘I’m asking you if you want something,’ and you’re saying, ‘Let me tell you about my behaviour/mood.’ It’s quite rude really, just interrupting their conversation and starting a different one. Imagine if that’s how all conversations went:

“Hi, how are you?” “I love cricket.”

“Do you want to meet up for a coffee?” “Did you know my middle name is Louise?”

“I’ll call you later.” “I must remember to pick up the dry cleaning.”

We wouldn’t get very far in our interactions, would we? We’d all just be going on about random things whilst in the company of other people.

I must try using ‘yes’ and ‘no’ more often, I guess.

P.S. 16 days til first exam. Today’s study topic is Formalities in Equity and Trusts Law.

What runs through my head when I go for a walk

Ok, I’m going to go for a walk now. O but maybe it’s too cold. Shall I read my book for a bit longer? No, go for a walk. But, erm, my comfy trousers for walking in aren’t washed. Ok, Laura, just wear different trousers.

Right, I’m out! I’m out of the house. I’m off. Uphill. I’ve forgotten my earphones, which is a disaster, I can’t listen to any music. Just keep going, it’s not that big a problem. Why are these children getting in my way? Can’t they see I’m walking?

I’m a bit bored now. It’s only been three and a half minutes, just get to the river then walk home. I don’t want to. Just do it. Ok then. I’m warming up actually, this is quite nice. My legs are a bit bored of going uphill though. Where’s the river? It’s so far! I can’t be bothered! I think I’ve done long enough now. Ten minutes is more than enough! Yeh, it’ll be fine, I need to go home and study anyway.

O look! There’s the river! It’s so pretty. Aaaaahh, I’m going to at least get to the river. O look how the sun reflects off the river. I’m going to walk along it for a while. I love walking next to the river. I love walking. Look at the lovely children, I’ll just stop to let them pass. I wonder if I could walk alllll day? I could go on a walking holiday somewhere! Trek a mountain range or something. I’d be so happy. Could I give up my job and just walk all day, every day? Just keep going next to the river for the whole day and see where I end up, and get the train home or something? Let me take a few pictures, what a lovely view. Quickly post them onto Facebook so people think I’m like one of those naturey people who’s at one with the earth and loves exercising.

I’ll walk to the next bridge I reckon, cross it, then walk back. That’ll be nice. Ah, it’s so lovely outside. Get rid of the jumper because I’m quite warm now. Um, where’s the next bridge actually? I’ve been going for ages and I can’t even see it. Hm. I can’t turn back, that’s like admitting defeat. Must. Keep. Going. It’s actually the afternoon now, omygoodness I might die on this walk. It’s been hours now! I’ll probably be found by another walker in a few months time, in a heap at the side of the path, exhausted and surviving off scraps that birds and badgers have brought me to keep me alive.

That’s it. I’m calling someone who knows the river better than me. Sure enough, they confirm that the next bridge is probably another half hour walk away. But I can’t turn back, that’s out of the question. I’ve reached the bridge. Ugh. Cross it. Now have to walk the whole distance back again! This is the worst walk I’ve ever been on! I hate walking.

Ok, I’m walking back, speed up a bit, it’s homeward bound. It will be ok. My legs are extremely bored by now. It doesn’t seem too far on the way back actually. There’s the bridge near home! Woop! I’m close. Ahhhh, over the bridge and bye bye river, I’m off home for a much needed cup of tea. I can slow to a stroll now. Omygoodness, I’ve been out for almost FIVE hours! Oops. Well, it’ll be fine, the study isn’t going anywhere. I feel quite good actually, I’m not in that much of a rush to get home. What a lovely day and what a lovely walk. That was sooo nice. I really enjoyed that. Mmmmm, time for a cup of tea.

The web of lies

Today I remembered something that happened when I was away on my gap year that was really awkward at the time and now just seems sooo stupid. It’s about the inability to say, ‘Ok, I’ve got stuff to do so I’ll just see you another day. Bye!’

I was on my gap year. I was 19. I was teaching in some of the local schools in the town where I lived. I was also running the town newspaper with a friend.
One day, I was working on an article for the newspaper deadline when the door bell went. It was one of my older students, I think she was about 14. I think her name was Jeanine. She wanted to come and just hang out. So I said, “Yeh, great. I’ve got to go out in about half an hour but stay until then.” I didn’t have anywhere to go but I thought that would just make her realise it was only a half hour visit.

The half an hour went by, we had a cup of tea, talked about whatever… and she didn’t leave. I looked at my watch and said brightly, “O, is that the time?! I’ve got to go out now,” implying that it was time for her to go.

Her response? “O ok, where do you need to go?”

“I’m meeting Lucy (the friend I ran the newspaper with), she’s back from a trip out of town so I’ve got to go and meet her to help her with her bags.” All lies. She wasn’t due back until the next day. And she only had one bag.

Her response? “O great, I like Lucy. I’ll come with you.”

Ok, so now I’ve got nothing. I’ve got no reason to say, no don’t come with me, cause all I’m doing is meeting a friend. Dammit, I should have said I had an important newspaper-related meeting with the town mayor or something.

I get my bag and we leave the house and we’re walking in the general direction of the drop off point I said I was going to. I’m walking really slowly. My brain is in overdrive. How can I get out of this? We’re going to arrive at said location and no-one’s going to be there.

“I just need to pop into the shop,” I say on the way, desperately trying to buy time. I pointlessly buy a bunch of bananas and then sure enough, we’re on our way again. Then suddenly, I come up with something.

“O wait! I’ve just remembered she said she was going to call me when she got in as she doesn’t definitely know what time she’ll be here. Save me waiting for ages for her. I guess I’ll go back home then.” We’re near Jeanine’s house and I’m hoping she’ll say ‘ok, I’ll go this way home, see you at school tomorrow!’ But no! Is this the most thick skinned child ever? She just says, “OK, we’ll go back to yours then.” I nod meekly and we turn around.

When we get back to the house I realise I’m back at square 1. Nothing has been achieved. So I try the next get-out-of-jail card in my pack. I make a fake phone call. That’s right. “I’ll just give her a quick call,” I say.

I go into the next room, pick up the phone and have a loud conversation which goes something like this – “Hi Lucy! Yeh, are you on your way back? O ok, you’re almost here? Great! And they’ve invited you for lunch, have they? And I’m invited? That sounds lovely. O yeh I know, the big house on the other side of town. Great, that’ll be nice, just a nice little quiet gathering. Lovely, see you in ten!”

So I grab my bag and tell Jeanine I’ve been invited for lunch so I quickly need to go out. She offers to walk with me. Dammit. Will this never end?! So we walk all the way there and thankfully, my fake lunch invite was at a house in a little compound so I just said a hurried goodbye outside the compound and ran to the house. I did actually knock on the door and invite myself in, explaining the situation and stayed for lunch anyway!

And almost missed that deadline I was trying to reach when she first turned up!