Still here....

 

At once totally normal, and totally surreal

 

A partial brass band rehearsal...it got COLD when the sun dipped below the trees. That's me straight ahead - didn't realise how long that braid is getting.

That sky though.... full of swallows and even a pair of buzzards circling round and round. Made it rather hard to concentrate - kept looking up and loosing my place.

I have a week's leave this week and my goal is to be outside as much as possible before the dark days return.

The trusty steed is dead. Long live the trusty steed!

In the end, the trusty steed did not live up to its name. It had a good run, for sure, and I loved it dearly, but 2 flats, a wheel blow out, and 2 sets of broken spokes and enough is enough. 4 long walks home in as many weeks, several weeks in the shop, and a frankly terrifying acceleration of money required to maintain equilibrium led me to inquire about the possibility of replacement, mostly at Neal's bequest. "For god's sake, get a new bike," he kept repeating with increasing volume and intensity.

"Actually," said the bike shop man, we have two ladies bikes in the shop right now but you'll have to be quick because they'll go in a day." ladies bikes I sniffed to myself. I mentioned my bike woes to a few friends at knit night, and the response was eerily familiar. "For god's sake, Karly - get a new bike!" They did however tell me about cyclescheme, which it turns out my work does as well. This means I can spread the cost over 1 year, and pay before tax, making a decent savings as well. 

So I went to look at the ladies bikes. Turns out they were the ones I have been ogling in the bike shop windows for years, never imagining I could justify the cost. But with the cyclescheme, and compared to what my old one was eating up - well - 

Meet the new steed:

It's a vintage style touring bike but with a lightweight frame. It's made in Italy (ooooooh!), and comes with fenders and chain guards, lights and a bell, and (this is where you know it's Italian) a handmade white suede seat. I feel sorry for that seat and am slightly concerned about what it will look like after a few weeks of my sweaty, sand-and-sea-encrusted arse upon it.

It's no racer, but it's smooth and fun to ride. All I need to do now is attach my milk crate on the back and we're back in business!

My day started out with surprising a HUGE spider in the draining rack who then scuttled away with lightening speed while I gibbered and gasped like a landed fish and is now SOMEWHERE in the kitchen. 

It has not gotten appreciatively better either.

Not that it is a bad day, no. Just - I'm tired of adulting and fixing things and always putting a brave face on things and staying motivated and practising and cleaning up after myself and researching and problem solving and I just really feel like having a good old strop and moan even though I know it won't solve anything and won't even make me feel better. And I know I have nothing to complain about not truly and that is also not making me feel any better.

Harrumph.

Well tomorrow is another day. Marvellous. Bloody marvellous.

 

Knit night for the win!

I just got in from an evening of sitting in the rec ground drinking wine and laughing with friends. It was so much fun. Am I 19 again? No - this was so much classier (ha ha - maybe!) - this was socially-distanced knit night. I've seen most of my knit night friends around town once or twice but we haven't been together since the beginning of March. It was hot, and we sat under the chestnut trees and knit and laughed. It felt so good. Now that I'm home I feel slightly manically hyper with all the socialisation - this was the largest group (all 9 of us!) that I have been with in person for 5 months. 

On more general terms, I don't know where we're going virus-wise. I feel nervous about what's ahead and what we may be compelled to do, and what compromises we may be forced to make - but for this evening - it was really lovely. 

I have this sudden image of a fly being lured down a pitcher-plant's throat. 

I really hope this is not like that.

I spent this afternoon, like so many afternoons and mornings these days, in back-to-back video meetings. But one of them was different. It was a meeting to discuss, on a wider level, how we work, how we want to work, and what our priorities are and how we communicate them in the next 4 - 6 months. So far, so normal. What wasn't normal, was that 9 out of the 10 participants were women. Women heading departments. Women making decisions. Women doing the data crunching. Women running with it.

I have been working full time (more or less) for 28 years (give or take). I have been the sole woman in meetings so often it has become normal. I have chaired meetings where I am the sole woman more often than I can count. 

This was a first.

It's like the composition of jazz bands - of course it doesn't matter what gender you are, or identify as. But how do you BE what you never SEE? So yes, it's important, and it matters. And right now - more than ever - we need ALL the brains around the table - regardless of the casing. 

I looked at that screen and thought.

Still thinking. 

Covid-conversations

from tonight's Faversham Mission Brass Zoom call:

- Now that the restrictions are relaxed we can think about at least a few of us playing together
- J has a field at the back of her house and she says we could play there
- You can have up to 6 people at a time - we could do two shifts
- Wait - she has two fields - we could have 12!
- But there's a big hedge between them
- That's ok - just put the trombones one one side
- How would you tune between two fields?
- HA HA HA HA HA like you ever tune anyways!

Oare Marsh Frog Chorus

And now I will sing you the song of my people: 

Squirrel News

Squirrel Babies! 

The trees are alive with the frantic antics of small squirrels. Fearless, crazy, daft, funny, charming, imbecilic, sweet, beautiful squirrel youngsters. They leap with abandon and chase each other with what looks like murderous intent. Every time I see one vault from the fence to a tree I hear a small voice in my head shouting, "GERONIMO". (Do I also say this out loud, quietly, under my breath? Well, who wouldn't?)

They are much less afraid of us than their experienced parents, and one in particular will take peanuts from our hand. The other day, I proffered a peanut, and the wee squirrel put a paw out on my finger to steady it before he took the peanut. His paw was soft, like cat pads, and so delicate. Knowing squirrels are chock full of fleas and mites did nothing to diminish the magic of the moment. When I think of that delicate brush with another being I can't help but feel special and smile.

There is another little urchin who chews the feeder lid incessantly so I guess we know where THAT one came from!

Still Here Still Home

It appears I have been tardy in my blog updates. I can only assume this is a side effect of never being entirely sure what day it is. This is fine over say the 10 days of the Christmas holiday, but it's getting wearing now 11 weeks in. But we're fine - healthy and as happy as possible whilst still being even cognisantly aware of world events, although man is this ever a quiet life. There are ups to this for sure - but it is a hell of a change. Many days I embrace it. Some days I plod along. Some days I feel sad. Such is life.

We had a wonderful walk up to Oare marsh earlier this week - the weather was hot and we left early in the morning, and had it nearly to ourselves. We saw two herons flying low across the marsh. We stopped and listened to a chorus of frog song that was so free-spirited and bubbly (in every sense) that you just had to laugh. We saw a red kite soaring effortlessly round and round the sky. The tide was up and we sat on the bank and ate our breakfast. Heaven. Then on the way back we saw six (6!!!) cygnets. Bliss.

I'm still sewing, albeit with mixed results. I thought I was doing quite well (I know! I know!) until the other day when I sewed (quite beautifully) the handles of the bag I was making into the inside - between the lining and the bag. I had attached them to the wrong side and when I went to turn it the right way out they mysteriously disappeared! There was a lot of unpicking. Possibly bad language - who can say. 

Work went terribly, ominously quiet for a few weeks (queue secret worries of unemployment and eventual destitution) but it is now all guns blazing and I honestly don't know which one is worse. No one knows what is going on or what is allowed and it is our job to try to make sense of it and understand what teams need and how we make it happen. But it's always better to be busy, for me anyways. MUCH less chance of getting into trouble.

Speaking of trouble, I hear Neal pottering in the kitchen and, if I am not mistaken, the light tinkle of vodka hitting a cocktail glass. I am with cocktails like Humphrey, our dog used to be with the tin opener - passionately enthusiastic. Cheers!