I'm thinking of having one or two advanced driving lessons. (Thinking about it, in that way that I suspect that I'd like to do it, but won't quite get round to it, because it will never reach the very top of the priorities list.) I'm losing confidence in driving, and I don't want it to get worse.
I used to love city driving. Nipping in and out of busy traffic in my little Vauxhall Nova, being able to parallel park in the teensiest of tiny spaces, being assertive enough to be a little cheeky, but not pushing it too much. I still enjoy city driving, but I'm aware that I'm not as sharp as I used to be. And I think it's got more difficult. There's more going on. You have more gizmos on your dashboard (and I don't even use the Bluetooth phone thingy), and a GPS bossing you around.
Life is more complicated. It used to be me, the Nova, and the open road. Now it's me, the GPS, children who want to know stuff about where we're going and why, iPods which want to play their music through the sound system and can only do so if I scroll down some menu or other, and the dog in his crate, which slides back and forth if I brake too quickly, reminding me that I really should remember to wedge that crate with an old blanket.
Cars are definitely more complicated. For example, I was taught what to do if you stall. Handbrake on, into neutral, turn the ignition key. But our car restarts automatically, though it sometimes doesn't (presumably if I'm still in gear). It takes me a moment to work out what it's doing and why, and really it would be much simpler if it just languished in stall mode and allowed me to sort things out. I want to be in control of my own destiny, rather than be forced to hand it over to a bunch of VW engineers in a design room in Germany, however vorsprung durch technik they may be.
Life, cars, and of course traffic also is more complicated. Remember roundabouts in the old days? You used to drive up, stop, make sure nothing was coming to your right, and then proceed. Now, you can't stop. Oh no. You have to slow down, and filter out. Otherwise you cause all kinds of anguish. Roundabouts aren't even round any more. Lots of them have multiple lanes, with traffic lights, and arrows, and all kinds of un-roundabouty distractions. I know roundabouts that have mini roundabouts around them (Hello, Hemel Hempstead). Some of the bigger ones have roadways through the middle of them (looking at you, Headington on the Oxford bypass), and so the sign that tells you which lane to be in looks like something you need A level Physics to understand. In the two seconds you have as you drive by it.
Traffic is faster, and you have less reaction time. Do they still teach learner drivers to look over their shoulders before pulling out, or is it all done with mirrors these days? I remember that not checking over your shoulder was something you could fail your test on, but now there really isn't time. By the time you've rotated your neck backwards and forwards, two lorries, a bus and five cars have whizzed past.
I feel the rules have changed, and I've not quite kept up. That's why I'd like a lesson or two. In fact, I rather think everyone should have a course of refresher lessons every 15 years. Why not? Wouldn't that be a good idea?
I was talking about this with a friend. "I'd like to feel 100% confident that I know what I'm doing," I said. "I'd like to be behind the wheel, driving along, feeling in full control, knowing that I know exactly how I should be driving and what I should be doing in any situation."
"You mean you want to be a man?" he replied. "We feel like that when we drive."
See what I mean? A refresher course every 15 years could be a good idea for everyone.
.
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
It's been a year
We've been back a good year now. Back in the UK. The school year is starting again, and we've commented several times to each other, and to other people, how nice it is not to be newbies. The uniforms are sorted out, the relevant bits of paper read and signed, the calendar perused and any event in the next week or so noted, if I need to do something about it in advance. Otherwise, the kids will just roll up, and the next year will begin. It's a great feeling, to be established and not at sea. I've told my children to be specially nice to any new kids, and I know they will.
I'm happy to be here. We're in a good spot. We've made our house our home, found our way around a new city, made friends, had visitors to stay. My new job feels feels like another piece of the jigsaw is filled in. The picture has taken shape. I wouldn't change it, but as the year milestone is passed, I feel a little sad. It's beginning to feel like our time in America was a long time ago - another life, almost. I know other expats have said this, so I know I'm not alone. It's a strange feeling. I'm happy to be here, and when we were in America, we spent a huge amount of time, energy and emotion on trying to get here. But I left part of myself behind (quite literally, actually...).
I was shopping with 9-yo the other day, and I stopped and said "Do you remember when we used to go shopping at 'The Children's Place' together?" She nodded, and the expression on her face changed to sadness. We had a conversation about missing The Children's Place, and that made me feel better. It's part of her life too, and always will be. It took me such a long time to think of my children's sojourn in America as gain, rather than loss. I spent the first year or two thinking about all they were missing out on here. Now, for all that their current lives here are full and rich, I find myself thinking about what they are missing there.
Part of what I'm feeling is the oddness that I've made some very good new friends over the past year, but that they don't know about my having had cancer. It's not the first thing you talk about, and then as time goes by, it seems like it would be awkward to say "oh, and I don't think I've ever mentioned that I was treated for breast cancer four years ago". In a way, it doesn't matter. I am who I am in this moment, meeting people who are who they are in this moment. But in another way, it feels like it's almost become a big secret. I don't really want that. I realise that everyone, at my stage of life, will have events from their past that are significant, and that not all their friends know about. We all have things tucked away at the back of our kitchen cupboards, as it were. It's just that the cancer episode takes up a lot of cupboard space, and I don't like it being so hidden. Though I sort of do, too. I like how much it isn't part of everyday life as it used to be. There's no pleasing me at the moment! I suppose moving on involves gain and loss. You can't have one without the other.
Meanwhile, 9-yo and I are very much enjoying The Great British Bake Off. We look forward to Tuesday evening, and I love sharing that hour with her. Seems like a good trade-off for losing our trips to The Children's Place (though I did like that shop!)
I'm happy to be here. We're in a good spot. We've made our house our home, found our way around a new city, made friends, had visitors to stay. My new job feels feels like another piece of the jigsaw is filled in. The picture has taken shape. I wouldn't change it, but as the year milestone is passed, I feel a little sad. It's beginning to feel like our time in America was a long time ago - another life, almost. I know other expats have said this, so I know I'm not alone. It's a strange feeling. I'm happy to be here, and when we were in America, we spent a huge amount of time, energy and emotion on trying to get here. But I left part of myself behind (quite literally, actually...).
I was shopping with 9-yo the other day, and I stopped and said "Do you remember when we used to go shopping at 'The Children's Place' together?" She nodded, and the expression on her face changed to sadness. We had a conversation about missing The Children's Place, and that made me feel better. It's part of her life too, and always will be. It took me such a long time to think of my children's sojourn in America as gain, rather than loss. I spent the first year or two thinking about all they were missing out on here. Now, for all that their current lives here are full and rich, I find myself thinking about what they are missing there.
Part of what I'm feeling is the oddness that I've made some very good new friends over the past year, but that they don't know about my having had cancer. It's not the first thing you talk about, and then as time goes by, it seems like it would be awkward to say "oh, and I don't think I've ever mentioned that I was treated for breast cancer four years ago". In a way, it doesn't matter. I am who I am in this moment, meeting people who are who they are in this moment. But in another way, it feels like it's almost become a big secret. I don't really want that. I realise that everyone, at my stage of life, will have events from their past that are significant, and that not all their friends know about. We all have things tucked away at the back of our kitchen cupboards, as it were. It's just that the cancer episode takes up a lot of cupboard space, and I don't like it being so hidden. Though I sort of do, too. I like how much it isn't part of everyday life as it used to be. There's no pleasing me at the moment! I suppose moving on involves gain and loss. You can't have one without the other.
Meanwhile, 9-yo and I are very much enjoying The Great British Bake Off. We look forward to Tuesday evening, and I love sharing that hour with her. Seems like a good trade-off for losing our trips to The Children's Place (though I did like that shop!)
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Well, this is all very exciting
I've got a job. Yes, seriously. A proper one, with hours and pay and that kind of thing.
I've been applying for things for a few weeks, and I've had interviews with three places (and turned down a fourth), which I was pretty amazed about. To me, my cv reads something like "used to be fairly employable, but ppff, just look at how long she's been out of the working world, and she didn't exactly achieve much really, did she?". Obviously it didn't read quite like that to them. Which is just as well, because the job I have is Fundraising and Communications, and frankly, if you can't massage your own cv to read well, then you're not going to be any good at Communications (whatever that is).
My professional background was in the Civil Service (5 years and a bit), and then Fundraising with 3 large national charities (6 years and a bit). So I've been looking at fundraising jobs and administrative jobs. I'm very glad to have got a fundraising one, though, as I spend way too much of my life doing admin things already (don't we all?). Fundraising is a bit more of its own role. Most admin jobs that I was applying for were to make things happen for someone else, and I have to say, I'm more than ready to have my own patch. I had an interview for a PA job, and though it would have been good in all kinds of ways, I did find myself sitting in the interview trying hard to persuade myself that it wouldn't feel rather like being a mum in an office. It's bad enough having children, a husband and a spaniel. Not sure I want a boss with a life to organise too.
The job I've got (one might even say "my job" *beams with pride*) is with a small Family Centre in one of the disadvantaged areas of the city. I went to have an informal look around when I saw the job ad, and I liked it from the off. It had a buzz about the place. It has a creche, a cafe, and then runs all kind of useful activities: cooking classes (with the emphasis on healthy eating), kids' holiday clubs, support groups, housing advice sessions, counselling, a vegetable garden in the back yard (the produce being used in the cafe) etc. I liked the fact that there is a good number of volunteers involved, staffing the front desk and elsewhere. That always speaks well of an organisation, I reckon.
The job is 16 hours a week, and it can be pretty flexible how that is arranged. It's a 15 minute drive or bus ride from home. The role is fairly clearly defined, but with room for growth (ie I'll do a bit of Fundraising, and then wonder how to set about Communications). I'll be in a small team, which, I know, I know, can be a nightmare, but also can be nice. I'm not sure I'm a big organisations person any more.
It will mean change for our family life. I am lucky to have no childcare issues, as the kids start school early, and can stay late when necessary for prep and dinner (which is a big advantage of boarding school life - what's more, there's no extra charge, and I don't even have to sign up in advance, just on the day). Husband has holidays free (mostly), so can be in charge on the days I work. Those are huge advantages, and I don't underestimate them. However, I'm sure it will be something of an adjustment, and I've already had a conversation and a cuddle with 9-yo, who tearily told me "I don't want you not to be here in the holidays". Yes, there will be a little loss, but, both for me and for the family, there will be big gain. We'll have a second income (when did Britain get SO DARN EXPENSIVE?), and I'm looking forward to having something to get my teeth into. I've spent a year settling us all into our new home and our new life, and I'm ready to be out there with a new challenge. Living and working in a boarding school can be a bit like being in a bubble. It was tempting to see if I could offer my services to the school (various spouses do have jobs here), but I knew I wanted something outside the bubble. The thing I like most about this job (and I think you'll understand this), is that it's mine. All mine.
I just rang up a moment ago to talk about a minor detail, couldn't speak to the person I needed to, and so chatted briefly to the receptionist. She said "Well, I hope you make a decent cup of tea", so I'm sure I'll fit right in. An organisation which values that particular skill is bound to be worth working for. And my reply? I said, "I make a darn good cup of tea". Which I do.
.
I've been applying for things for a few weeks, and I've had interviews with three places (and turned down a fourth), which I was pretty amazed about. To me, my cv reads something like "used to be fairly employable, but ppff, just look at how long she's been out of the working world, and she didn't exactly achieve much really, did she?". Obviously it didn't read quite like that to them. Which is just as well, because the job I have is Fundraising and Communications, and frankly, if you can't massage your own cv to read well, then you're not going to be any good at Communications (whatever that is).
My professional background was in the Civil Service (5 years and a bit), and then Fundraising with 3 large national charities (6 years and a bit). So I've been looking at fundraising jobs and administrative jobs. I'm very glad to have got a fundraising one, though, as I spend way too much of my life doing admin things already (don't we all?). Fundraising is a bit more of its own role. Most admin jobs that I was applying for were to make things happen for someone else, and I have to say, I'm more than ready to have my own patch. I had an interview for a PA job, and though it would have been good in all kinds of ways, I did find myself sitting in the interview trying hard to persuade myself that it wouldn't feel rather like being a mum in an office. It's bad enough having children, a husband and a spaniel. Not sure I want a boss with a life to organise too.
The job I've got (one might even say "my job" *beams with pride*) is with a small Family Centre in one of the disadvantaged areas of the city. I went to have an informal look around when I saw the job ad, and I liked it from the off. It had a buzz about the place. It has a creche, a cafe, and then runs all kind of useful activities: cooking classes (with the emphasis on healthy eating), kids' holiday clubs, support groups, housing advice sessions, counselling, a vegetable garden in the back yard (the produce being used in the cafe) etc. I liked the fact that there is a good number of volunteers involved, staffing the front desk and elsewhere. That always speaks well of an organisation, I reckon.
The job is 16 hours a week, and it can be pretty flexible how that is arranged. It's a 15 minute drive or bus ride from home. The role is fairly clearly defined, but with room for growth (ie I'll do a bit of Fundraising, and then wonder how to set about Communications). I'll be in a small team, which, I know, I know, can be a nightmare, but also can be nice. I'm not sure I'm a big organisations person any more.
It will mean change for our family life. I am lucky to have no childcare issues, as the kids start school early, and can stay late when necessary for prep and dinner (which is a big advantage of boarding school life - what's more, there's no extra charge, and I don't even have to sign up in advance, just on the day). Husband has holidays free (mostly), so can be in charge on the days I work. Those are huge advantages, and I don't underestimate them. However, I'm sure it will be something of an adjustment, and I've already had a conversation and a cuddle with 9-yo, who tearily told me "I don't want you not to be here in the holidays". Yes, there will be a little loss, but, both for me and for the family, there will be big gain. We'll have a second income (when did Britain get SO DARN EXPENSIVE?), and I'm looking forward to having something to get my teeth into. I've spent a year settling us all into our new home and our new life, and I'm ready to be out there with a new challenge. Living and working in a boarding school can be a bit like being in a bubble. It was tempting to see if I could offer my services to the school (various spouses do have jobs here), but I knew I wanted something outside the bubble. The thing I like most about this job (and I think you'll understand this), is that it's mine. All mine.
I just rang up a moment ago to talk about a minor detail, couldn't speak to the person I needed to, and so chatted briefly to the receptionist. She said "Well, I hope you make a decent cup of tea", so I'm sure I'll fit right in. An organisation which values that particular skill is bound to be worth working for. And my reply? I said, "I make a darn good cup of tea". Which I do.
.
Update on roof bars
I took down that last post, and if you're wondering why, it was because I said I was giving Thule the right of reply, but then I didn't. That offended my ethical blogging sensibilities.
A couple of further details of the story may amuse you, though.
We arrived at the village in Oxfordshire where my cousin lives, from whom we were reclaiming the roof box whilst conscientiously not finishing our sentences with prepositions. We'd set off from Brighton at 5.30am (it's a long way to Edinburgh, from Brighton, via rural Oxfordshire). To be brief, it turned out that the roof box didn't fit on the new bars that we'd bought from Halfords. They were Thule's own brand, mind you, but the roof box must be 10 years old, and I guess designs change. My cousin had a couple of sets of roof bars that we tried, but neither of those fitted our car. So we returned to Scotland roof boxless.
Meanwhile, a nice follow-up phone call from Parcelforce to check we'd got the original set (top marks, Parcelforce), revealed this. Thule DID authorise the bars to be redirected from Scotland to Brighton, by overnight delivery. They DID arrive on Saturday. Sadly, they arrived at the address that Thule gave Parcelforce, which had the wrong house number on it. But Thule did, at least, try. I guess anyone can misread a 6 for a 4.
So now we still have no roof box, but (hopefully) a refund is on its way from Thule for the original set of roof bars, which are now in the hands of some puzzled people down the street from my mum.
.
A couple of further details of the story may amuse you, though.
We arrived at the village in Oxfordshire where my cousin lives, from whom we were reclaiming the roof box whilst conscientiously not finishing our sentences with prepositions. We'd set off from Brighton at 5.30am (it's a long way to Edinburgh, from Brighton, via rural Oxfordshire). To be brief, it turned out that the roof box didn't fit on the new bars that we'd bought from Halfords. They were Thule's own brand, mind you, but the roof box must be 10 years old, and I guess designs change. My cousin had a couple of sets of roof bars that we tried, but neither of those fitted our car. So we returned to Scotland roof boxless.
Meanwhile, a nice follow-up phone call from Parcelforce to check we'd got the original set (top marks, Parcelforce), revealed this. Thule DID authorise the bars to be redirected from Scotland to Brighton, by overnight delivery. They DID arrive on Saturday. Sadly, they arrived at the address that Thule gave Parcelforce, which had the wrong house number on it. But Thule did, at least, try. I guess anyone can misread a 6 for a 4.
So now we still have no roof box, but (hopefully) a refund is on its way from Thule for the original set of roof bars, which are now in the hands of some puzzled people down the street from my mum.
.
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Ode to a cocker spaniel
Thank you for your comments on dryers. Everybody loves a laundry post! On the basis of what you advised, and of what was on offer at Curry's, I've purchased a condenser Beko. Long may it dry! And I hope it doesn't cause me the need to vent. (See what I did there. But thinking about it, whatever happened to the word vent? It's seriously out of use now, and when I started blogging, people vented all the time. It was what made blogging great.)
When a cocker spaniel enters your life, there is a serious increase in earage in your daily life. As we walk Hector, we often sing that song:
Do your ears hang low?
Do they waggle to and fro?
Can you tie them in a know?
Can you tie them in a bow?
Can you swing them over your shoulder, like a regimental soldier?
Do your ears, hang, low?
.jpg)
It's a good song to walk to. Alternatively, one of us sits Hector on our lap, and acts it out with his ears. (No, it's not unkind, and let's face it, there's got to be some use for those appendages.)
9-yo and I have made up a couple more verses.
Do your ears hang high?
Do they point up to the sky?
Do they startle passers-by?
Can you flap them till you fly?
Could we make them into a hat, and then what would you think of that?
Do your ears, hang, high?
.jpg)
Do your ears twist round?
Can they reach down to the ground?
Do they make an awful sound?
Are they really world-renowned?
You'll be king of all things furry, and you'll never have to worry,
When your ears, are, crowned!
Gotta love a cocker spaniel!
.
When a cocker spaniel enters your life, there is a serious increase in earage in your daily life. As we walk Hector, we often sing that song:
Do your ears hang low?
Do they waggle to and fro?
Can you tie them in a know?
Can you tie them in a bow?
Can you swing them over your shoulder, like a regimental soldier?
Do your ears, hang, low?
.jpg)
It's a good song to walk to. Alternatively, one of us sits Hector on our lap, and acts it out with his ears. (No, it's not unkind, and let's face it, there's got to be some use for those appendages.)
9-yo and I have made up a couple more verses.
Do your ears hang high?
Do they point up to the sky?
Do they startle passers-by?
Can you flap them till you fly?
Could we make them into a hat, and then what would you think of that?
Do your ears, hang, high?
.jpg)
Do your ears twist round?
Can they reach down to the ground?
Do they make an awful sound?
Are they really world-renowned?
You'll be king of all things furry, and you'll never have to worry,
When your ears, are, crowned!
Gotta love a cocker spaniel!
.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Yes, it's another post about laundry, but I need your advice please
I'll be brief. (Yes, it happens... from time to time... occasionally...).
I need to buy a tumble dryer. They come in two types: condenser, and vented.
I am deeply, deeply prejudiced against condenser ones. This is because I have a washer-dryer, which is a complete nightmare as a dryer (though ok as a washer). I have ruined 3 loads of washing, and now never use it. Ever. It can't dry at low temps. It bakes the clothes. Seriously. You might as well put them in a rotisserie. It can only dry a tiny amount of stuff at a time. I hate it. With passion.
However, the new dryer will live in the garage, so it would be useful to have a condenser dryer rather than a vented one. Use of a vented one involves leaving the garage door open for the vent tube, which I have happily done for several years, in two different garages, but it's not ideal.
My question is this:
Are condenser dryers ok? Will they dry at low temps? Are condenser dryers a different breed from condenser combo washer-dryers?
(OK, that was 3 questions.)
Which is no use on the issue, so come on, Bloggy Friends. Enlighten me.
.
I need to buy a tumble dryer. They come in two types: condenser, and vented.
I am deeply, deeply prejudiced against condenser ones. This is because I have a washer-dryer, which is a complete nightmare as a dryer (though ok as a washer). I have ruined 3 loads of washing, and now never use it. Ever. It can't dry at low temps. It bakes the clothes. Seriously. You might as well put them in a rotisserie. It can only dry a tiny amount of stuff at a time. I hate it. With passion.
However, the new dryer will live in the garage, so it would be useful to have a condenser dryer rather than a vented one. Use of a vented one involves leaving the garage door open for the vent tube, which I have happily done for several years, in two different garages, but it's not ideal.
My question is this:
Are condenser dryers ok? Will they dry at low temps? Are condenser dryers a different breed from condenser combo washer-dryers?
(OK, that was 3 questions.)
Which is no use on the issue, so come on, Bloggy Friends. Enlighten me.
.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Killer dogs or miracle dogs?
The first paragraph of the lead story on the BBC news website today reads:
"The maximum jail sentence for the owners of dogs that attack and kill someone could be raised to life, under proposals for England and Wales."
On a first look, my attention was arrested. I do understand what it means, but I had to read it through 2 or 3 times to be absolutely sure the writer wasn't trying to say something else, rather extraordinary.
Photo courtesy of the BBC news website, and apologies to my brother for putting up a picture of a staffie in this context. I'm only copying the BBC...
.
"The maximum jail sentence for the owners of dogs that attack and kill someone could be raised to life, under proposals for England and Wales."
On a first look, my attention was arrested. I do understand what it means, but I had to read it through 2 or 3 times to be absolutely sure the writer wasn't trying to say something else, rather extraordinary.
Photo courtesy of the BBC news website, and apologies to my brother for putting up a picture of a staffie in this context. I'm only copying the BBC...
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