Archive for December, 2007
Here’s the official summary of the year from Dan and Alison:
We’re well. We celebrated eight and a half years of marriage a couple of nights ago…and ten years of being together (back in April). This last year has mostly been about continuity for us, although quite a lot of changes in other areas.
We’ve been in our home in the north of Edinburgh for over three years now. This year we got a reworked bathroom, thanks to the hard work of Olly and Artur, which we’re enjoying a lot. Hopefully next year we’ll do a few changes in the kitchen, and then most of our plans for alterations to the flat are complete.
Dan continues to develop his web company, Inigo, and has seen his client group change and grow. He’s also had some staff changes, and the company moved to new premises in Leith back in the spring.
I continue to work with language assistants, as I have for the last few years. We’ve had some major staff changes this year, with various colleagues moving on, some to promotions, others to new organisations. Thankfully our new colleagues have also now started, and we have some extra people working in international education, which is making the workload easier. The organisation is also changing the way it works, focusing on fewer projects but ones of a larger scale, and we’re just starting to see how that affects our daily activities.
We continue to enjoy our travels, some with work and some for ourselves. This year included a trip to Paris for work, which we added some holiday time to beforehand. We returned to Poland for the first time in several years, and I had the opportunity to show Dan where I used work outside Warsaw, as well as seeing lots of changes in the capital itself. We continued on to Zakopane, the main alpine area in Poland, and did some walking in the Tatras National Park.
Our main break was around the time of Dan’s birthday. We stayed in a small town called Eze, between Nice and Monaco, and managed to explore all three places. We then went on to visit our friends Rachel and David, near Milan.
This year has been one of loss, with the deaths of several friends and family, as well as departures at work for me. However, there have also been lots of new arrivals, in Edinburgh and elsewhere, and we’ve enjoyed some good time with friends and their young families. We’ve also been able to spend time with my parents, and Dan’s mum and granny in London.
I finished my counselling course back in the spring. It’s not easy doing essays as well as working, but I found it good to combine thinking and practical skills. I also started doing more creative writing - mostly writing this blog, and starting exploring other ideas. Dan continues to be involved in the Africa Fund, a development charity connected with our church, and I sing with the worship team there every few weeks.
We hope this note finds you well, and wish you all the best for the coming year.
With love,
Dan and Alison
December 21st, 2007
It’s meant to be a penny, of course. A single bus ride in Edinburgh costs a pound. Inflation affects even the imagination these days.
Regular readers will know that buses play a fairly large role in my life, and I’ve just written the last entry all about buses, one way or another. But I did realise yesterday how much buses help me get ideas for blog entries.
The last couple of days, I’ve been at home for only short periods of time. I’d been out doing nice things, seeing people I love. But just sitting at home in the evening, thoughts were not really coming for writing the blog.
There seems to be something about bus travel, about glimpses of things, or perhaps the space to be on your own and reflect, that is conducive to writing it down. Just sitting at home may not do it. This is a little concerning for someone who a) wants to write more and b) wants to be at home more.
Of course, there’s nothing to stop me being around home more, but with a few bus rides here and there. Moderation in everything. But just as travel broadens the mind, it also broadens the input of information, stimulates you to make connections.
Trains work too, I have to say. Trains are especially good when they cross spaces where roads don’t run. Crossing fields, working through forests, seeing a house there, a car there, someone on a bike waiting at the train crossing for you to pass…All of these immediately suggest stories, worlds to step into, that can being as soon as pen reaches paper, or hands square up on a laptop.
Funny business, writing. We all do so much, live so much, in our days, that there is plenty to write about. Yet we live in an age where so many aspects of life are recorded more and more. There are plenty of others at the same task - security cameras notwithstanding. Is there a need for us to record?
Blogs suggest there is. The opportunity to record, but also to get others’ feedback, not just on your experience, but also how you write, is something above and beyond what’s been available before.
They say that both introverts and extroverts go to parties. But introverts leave earlier. They need to get away, to process what’s been happening. While the extrovert recharges their batteries through being with others, after a while, the introvert needs to do this by spending time on their own.
I wrote enthusiastically about yesterday’s party - and the party, the company, the chat, were all good in themselves, not just the food or the leftovers…Today, I am full on people, and ready to fill up on being on my own. But I do see that, while I long for time at home during busy working weeks, just being at home will not push the imagination.
I have to do a few things in order to write. Input leads to output. Writing is not so much of my life that I’m at a point of writer’s block. But I now understand the point of “digging ditches”, to requote Erica Jong from a recent post, in order to find the words again.
Even given that, words are elusive at times. Perhaps like being out in a boat, waiting for the fish. My discipline at the moment is to go out fishing each day, or at least most days. But sometimes, a shoal of words, of ideas, or memories, comes past. As this is the third post today, you can guess that I’m keen to keep dragging them into the boat while they’re still around.
December 20th, 2007
So, firstly, I’m on holiday (but I’m not allowed to be smug about it, given that others are still working). Which secondly means a chance to catch up on things that don’t often happen during ‘term time’ (despite the fact I’m not at school).
One of is the option of meeting up with family. Had the chance to meet Mum for lunch, look round the shops in Bruntsfield, then head on together to see Granny. Now I know you think I could be doing this at the weekend too, and that does happen too. But there’s something particularly nice about doing these things on a week day, as though you had all the time in the world, or at least enough to choose how to spend the day.
One way and another, the combination of buses to get around between these various points in town meant that I was travelling particular routes that I hadn’t done for a while. When we lived in Inverleith, we would frequently get buses that went up the Mound, so I was able to catch up on what has been happening up and down that route. I used to walk home that way when I worked in Bruntsfield, and you skirt the university area between the two, so got a glimpse again of that.
Bruntsfield itself is familiar from a couple of years working there, so the chance to go out for lunch in a familiar area, and see what had changed, was good. Discovered a new children’s book shop, Fidra Press, which both sells their own books - reissuing classic school stories, amongst others - and others. It has a comfy armchair in the window. I can only say it’s a good job for my bank account that I am no longer working in Bruntsfield…
Coming back on the bus from Juniper Green, happened to get one which goes through Colinton. This is the route of my memories as a little girl, visiting my grandparents in Edinburgh, and on occasion, going into town on a double decker bus. Colinton is a good place for overhanging branches, so if you sit upstairs at the front, they fairly thwack the top of the bus, which is exciting when you’re six, and still quite interesting when you’re thirtysomething…
All these buses pass through Tollcross, where we used to live when we were first married. Again, with the emergence of both German and Polish master baker shops, it is again helpful for my purse, and my waistline, that we are no longer living there…but worth a thought for a return visit.
Now I could do all this on a regular day, it’s true. But travelling at this time of year, with thick frost, with mistiness as you come down the hill into Edinburgh and see the lights below, with shop windows lit up and families out and about having pre-Christmas treats at the theatre or cinema…It’s not so different to being six again. The warmth of the bus, the extended journeys on each route, lull you into a state of observing, watching though drowsy, like a child on a long trip home.
This is my city. I may not always have lived here. But I have been here for over a third of my life now, and I love the fact that I have memories of it before that. I remember Slateford Road before all the new developments were built. When you could park on a muddy bit of land where the Western approach road now hums between banks and leisure centres in order to visit Princes Street. When there was still a cafe at the top of Habitat on Shandwick Place.
Yesterday, standing by Tollcross, waiting to change buses, a car swung by, and someone leaned out of the window to shout “Merry Christmas!” I can still feel the size of my smile about it, writing today.
December 20th, 2007
It’s confession time. I enjoy having people over, cooking for them…but sometimes I secretly think that the best bit about parties is eating up the leftovers afterwards.
The fact that this comes shortly before going away for Christmas means that there are all sorts of plans for how to use things up in a pleasing manner. It must rank reasonably high in my subconscious, as that was what I woke up thinking about, while trying hard to wake up enough to get up and see if I had remembered the contents of the fridge accurately…
Part of the thing with parties that makes this satisfying is where you have a party with different people bringing different things. Leftovers - with unplanned ingredients! It’s fairly close to Ready Steady Cook, but without the inconvenience of a studio audience.
To be honest, what was also exciting was seeing how well all the different things went together last night. Nibbles, mini things on french bread, a big vat of soup…I mention this as I am reminded of a similar party a few years ago where we decided we would all bring Christmas things from different countries - or at any rate, a dish relating to a particular country.
The only difficulty was that we had all thought about dishes containing potato, or so it seemed by what was produced. For one guest, fairly heavily pregnant at the time, this meant effectively eating a five course meal where every course included potato. Not great if you are working on a smaller stomach, and having difficulty digesting things…
But the second joy of leftovers is the potential to do things you might not normally do, such have coffee and cake for breakfast. (To be honest, cake for breakfast is such an exciting prospect that it’s just as well I don’t do this too often.) You can equally have things that you might normally eat - such as soup at lunchtime - but with someone else’s take on what that should be. (Three cheers for spiced parsnip soup, by the way.)
So hurrah for parties. And leftovers. In this day and age, in the West, we have lost the significance of feasting, because we are unused to the alternative - or unwilling to go there. We have to get our joy of providence through other means. Leftovers might just be it.
December 20th, 2007
Just written another post about how to prepare for Christmas. Grant you, it won’t get the turkey bought, or the crackers pulled. But here’s another option.
Back in my teens, I came across a book called “A Formal Feeling”, by the American author Zibby Oneal. The book tells the story of Anne, coming home for Christmas from boarding school. The home she comes to is not quite home - her mother is dead, and a new stepmother is there. Traditions have changed.
Anne struggles with the changes, not just in the home, but in her father and brother, who seem happy with the new arrangements. Slowly, Anne starts to remember that not every Christmas was perfect…
For some reason, perhaps because of the way the book builds up the details of Christmas - choosing the tree, singing carols in the choir, making the adjustment from being at school to being at home all day - it became part of my preparation for Christmas for many years. Somewhat like an advent calendar, I would read a chapter a day, building up the picture of Christmas, building up the picture of Anne, and her mother.
This year, I’m starting late. 17th already. But having lost five different people this year, friends and family, somehow I hope I can use reading this book to reflect on those I want to remember. In some cases, there are shared memories of Christmases, and times after Christmas and into New Year, together. In others, I don’t know how they spent their time.
Christmas is a time of repetition. We start a way of doing things, and soon build up our own traditions, that are almost easier to keep than to question. But Christmas soon turns to New Year, and new beginnings, even if we don’t want the resolutions that might go with them.
Somehow, I trust that reading this book will help me remember the repetitions, and look for new beginnings too. And, like Anne, that it will help me tease out what I think I remember, and what else was part of those relationships.
Perhaps, one of the best presents is being able to accept life as we and others have lived it, good and bad, cut short or lived longer. The title of the book comes from an Emily Dickinson poem, which ends:
“This is the Hour of Lead-
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the snow-
First - Chill - then Stupor - then the letting go-”
December 17th, 2007
Frost has stolen over even this mild coastal area of Edinburgh. Yesterday and today, the garden has been covered - and stayed covered nearly all day. The top of the shed was two tone at lunchtime, with one half normal colour, the other half still frosted over.
For those trying to get some sense that Christmas is nearly here, this and the warm coloured light are a reminder that it’s December, at least. Heading off to the shops today, part of an oratorio came back to me that I must have sung over twenty years ago, our first Christmas concert when our school choir had just formed, and we were getting used to proper four part singing.
“Hodie Christus natus est…Hodie salvator apparuit…” Kindly, the school laid on Latin too, at least while I was there, which helped me understand what I was singing. Today Christ is born, today the saviour appears…Even though it’s not ‘today’, the opening song wouldn’t leave me while I was walking up, and back to the shops. Which is what it’s for, really - it’s the processional at the start and end of the piece.
As we get older, trying to find Christmas can get harder. We expect it to appear in our homes, our spirits. Some fortunate friends seem to retain the excitement, year after year. The first year I was experiencing Christmas as a Christian, aged 19, I got some of that back. I was singing carols, not just because it was the time of year to sing them, but because I was excited about what they were telling me.
Perhaps today, for me at least, I need the processional to walk Christmas back into my life, my home. Going to Dan’s church in London, predominantly Afro-Caribbean, you sing the same song again and again until you are ‘walking’ in the truth of it. It becomes part of you. So, today, I process out of the house with the news of Christmas, and process back home, bringing it back in with me.
Hopefully it will stay too. Like the best of guests at Christmas, there’s nothing like having someone who you want to be there. Even a brief visit fills up your heart again.
December 17th, 2007
Cold nights. Longer hair. Seems like a sensible option. (So does hibernation, to be honest. But sadly work won’t pay me if I remain in a burrow rather than going to the office.)
Women seem to be allowed to change their minds on a lot of things, and changing the length of your hair almost goes with the territory. It’s kind of expected. So I don’t know whether I’ve been delayed in doing so, or whether it’s in keeping with other decisions in life. Other people change jobs every couple of years, it seems. I’ve been in mine seven and a half years, mostly, and that’s showing all the signs of continuing.
Anyway. Rapunzel effectively (for me), growing my hair a bit, as it’s been short for ages. Easy to do in the mornings. Practical. That kind of thing. But even a little change, and it feels quite different. Suddenly I can hide behind it a little (one of the reasons why people like having longer hair, or at least when you do when you’re in your teens, female, and a bit shy). I have a choice of styling options! So far this mostly runs to a) behind the ears and b) not. But it’s a start.
Where this will lead to, I don’t know. Thankfully the bloke is already in the picture, so I don’t have to go for major long hair growing like Rapunzel herself. (It’s just as well, given the nasty bits about Rapunzel’s bloke falling in briar patches and that sort of thing.) But a little change is a useful thing…if only for turning into a story now and then.
December 16th, 2007
It took more visits, but the michty Man of heating fixed the boiler, replacing the timer. We are back to normality. Hopefully even better, as we have a somewhat more programmable timer, and can do all kinds of fancy things like having it come on later at weekends and so on.
Temperatures are dropping this weekend. Certainly waiting in the station tonight to come back to Edinburgh, I was glad to know that we were going back to a house with heat. A somewhat expensive lesson in the usefulness of monthly payments for boiler checks, but we reckon in the end that, had we had this kind of plan since we moved in, we’d have paid more in total than we did to get things fixed this time. But we’re sure as anything getting one for the future…
There were some great thoughts for posts in the last couple of days, but they seem to have dropped off somewhere. Friday was my last day at work - a full three weeks off now, which is bound to make some people sick. Sadly, it did to me too - one of these sick headaches came on at the end of the work day that means you just want to get home very fast and lie down in a darkened room. (Now I understand what darkened rooms are for. Any more stimulation when you feel like you want to throw up, but can’t, would be more to deal with than I was prepared for at that time.)
Two hours’ sleep got me back to normal, but then, stupidly, couldn’t sleep when it was actually time to go to bed. Too many questions of what to do over the next few weeks. That’s the only thing with holidays. Look forward to them for ages, build them up in your mind, and then they finally arrive, and you expect to feel wonderful. And clearly I felt anything but…
Still, it’s a reminder that a certain amount of what I want at the moment is to do not very much. Perhaps this early hiatus was in fact the beginning of the rest. At least it’ll be easier to retain warm memories, however the holidays turn out.
December 15th, 2007
Another Christmas party today, combined with a house warming do. Our friends Alison and David have recently moved to Dunfermline, and had a general open house party.
So far, so good. We drank the mulled wine, admired the large greenhouse, views of the golf course behind, and tried to stop their (currently) youngest from eating the entire contents of the coffee table. (Actually, if he ate the lot, that would be worrying, given the toys stored in the boxes that are part of the table. Anyway, you get the picture.)
In good pedestrian mode, we got there by public transport, and trecked up through town from the train station. Dunfermline needs to market its ownership of a Primark to inhabitants of Edinburgh. Why go to Glasgow, and pay lots more on the train, when you can go to Dunfermline? And, indeed, continue your shopping in Peacocks next door? (Peacocks is particularly favoured by 9 year old girls who have an eye for current fashion trends, but I’m pretty sure it would say its appeal is wider than that.)
Heading back, all going fine, until we hear that points failure a couple of stops up the line mean that trains are all quite delayed. The nice station guard arranges taxis, and by the time we are at the head of the queue, they are running them all the way through to Edinburgh. However, this move, while generous, means that all but two of Dunfermline’s taxi fleet has been pressed into service to get people back over to Edinburgh. On a Saturday night in December (a rather chilly one by that time), this would probably not be popular among other evening party goers.
On our way over to Edinburgh, the lady on the taxi radio service was heard to enquire who was ‘back over the water yet?’ Clearly we will have to learn the lingo for further visits. But it was quite a reminder that it is quite a journey between the two toons, and that we have two mighty bridges that allow us to take these things for granted.
On the train over the rail bridge, it is rather ominous looking at the girders, some showing paint, and some clearly showing rust that bit more. Hopefully they’ll hold out a bit longer, even for the sake of keeping up auld aquaintances.
December 15th, 2007
Well, Christmas party completed. And no, I didn’t really manage to talk to any new people…so now having an away day to do the job seems the only way to fix it. (There are around 20 of them, and I have got to know around 8 of them, so I don’t feel too bad.)
Being rather shy at parties, I was rescued by a more convivial colleague who soon roped me in to assisting her with selling raffle tickets. It does mean you can keep your head down, write names on the back of tickets, and not worry about the appropriate thing to say next…
Despite the party not doing the ‘new colleague’ bit for me, what it did allow for was some catch up time with people I do know. Nice to sit with some who’ve been around for a year or more, and who I have some background with. Because being in the same office as someone, even when there’s only 60 of you, is no guarantee of talking to them, let alone keeping up with the ones you consider as good friends.
I also attempted to master a pashmina…Yes, even more out of date than my mobile phone blog recently. But thankfully there are more glamorous colleagues who are prepared to lend you a pretty scarf for an evening, and even tell you how to wear it. And with wall to wall little black dresses, I even felt appropriately dressed when it became too warm to keep the pashmina on.
Best of all, we raised over £300 for Maggie’s Centre in Edinburgh, and the atmosphere of the raffle kept everyone going, and in a good mood. I even discovered a new second career as a maker of impromptu raffle tickets when both books of proper tickets were used up…
December 14th, 2007
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