Margie's den of wonders...

Campbell/King Christmas Note 2009

2009-12-15T18:07:00.011Z

As an exercise to prepare myself to write this year’s edition of the Campbell/King Family Christmas letter I had a look at last year’s missive. I think in keeping with tradition I will now exclaim at what a difference a year can make, especially when you have a young child.

Last year at this time Madeleine was just cruising around the furniture, enjoying the world from the crawling vantage point. Today, as I write, she is enjoying the company of a little friend by running and chasing around the furniture and shouting ‘go’ after counting to three to set the race in motion! But let’s not skip too far into this year’s story or vital nuggets of information will be missed out and the whole plot of the story will be lost!

Gentle reader, this time last year in the unfolding adventures of the Campbell/King saw us setting off on the first leg of their Canadian adventure: ‘Christmas 2008 in Montreal’. I would not normally mention last year’s festivities but there are some significant events that bear mention.

The first wonderful experience of Christmas 2008 was having the opportunity to meet and spend time with my Father’s partner Janet. She is a lovely woman he met in his walking group and is now on my list (pretty much at the top) of favourite people. It is lovely to see my Father so happy and to know he has someone so special in his life.

The second event was a suprise I organised for my Father: Madeleine Anne’s christening at Montreal West United Church. Janet helped me keep this a surprise (no mean feat when my Father is on the committee approving all services at the church). Madeleine, dressed in her fabulous finest, was very well behaved and it was a wonderful present to give my Father – who didn’t even guess when we were sat in the very front pew and read ‘Christening’ in the order of service!

Moving on… and speaking of moving: if you know one thing about me it is that I am not one to shirk duty. While I may moan about it (a lot, frequently and vociferously) I get on with it. So while planning a surprise christening, Christmas with an under one-year-old child in a different country, and a bit of freelance graphic design, I was also organising our move to Edmonton, Alberta.

Ah, Edmonton, land of the frozen north – location of scary numbers below zero on the weather channel… and scene of the next part of the Campbell/King story.

We arrived in Edmonton to a furnished flat kindly organised for us by Darren’s new employer PCL Construction. It was a large suit in a converted hotel right near Jasper Avenue in downtown Edmonton. It was quite cold in Edmonton those first few weeks. To say that it was cold here compared to what we were used to in Market Harborough was to understate things significantly! The weather hovered around -40 for the first few weeks and we were sure we would turn our child into a human popsicle!

Madeleine was a pretty good sport about putting on the absurdly thick snowsuit we got her in Montreal – but looked a bit like the blob out of some horror film (only with a button nose and a really cute hat on)!

In late January our shipping container arrived and we were able to move into our rented house in a lovely part of Edmonton known as Glastonbury. It was wonderful to be reunited with more than a suitcase full of clothing and be able to do some proper cooking and baking.

Our house backs on to some walking paths overlooking a large pond which doubles, in the winter, as a full-sized hockey rink and has water features spraying in summer. Some of the local families put nets out on the ice and have matches most weekends. Great fun to watch from our upstairs windows and a complete novelty for my English husband (who is one step away from becoming a binocular toting anorak while trying to get a better look at it).

The house itself is only a few years old and is very modern in style – with an open concept great room downstairs combining living room, dining area and an open kitchen. It is done in neutral colours throughout so we pretty much have a blank canvas. When we arrived in Edmonton we were introduced to a new architectural feature unique to the area: the bonus room. A bonus room, for the uninitiated, is a room extending over the two-car garage. It is a bonus in that it provides an additional reception area, or in our case a television come play room for Madeleine. While the builders mean ‘bonus’ to be extra space, I see it as a bonus not to have every toy strewn throughout the house and out of the public eye.

When we moved in to our new home one thing we did notice is the difference in space between our Edwardian terrace and what is a small- to medium-sized home here. The dimensions of most North American furniture look like older brothers on steroids compared to what we had known in England. This bonus room presented us with another room to furnish and so off we went to look at couches and tables. This time there was no dissuading me from getting a leather suite as our last cream coloured linen was not exactly the most practical of choices when considering how active Maddie can be (incidentally she drew in brown crayon on one of the couches in the summer – and I mean all over it – so my choice has been more than justified)!

Meeting people in a new town is always an interesting process. It is made all the more difficult in an Edmonton winter during a cold snap. People here hide in their homes, driving straight into their garages, and never even setting foot outside unless absolutely necessary. Finally, a warm day with lots of snow got the neighbourhood out and shovelling and making snowmen. A rather saucy snow-penguin who bore a striking resemblance to Pamela Anderson being built gave me my first introduction to one of our neighbours (Saskia, Aidan and not forgetting Erasmus). From this meeting I have been introduced to a book club, and taken up running, Darren has found a fellow Brit to have the odd beer with after a weekly workout and Madeleine has found her first hero to worship – other than ‘Super Dad’ that is.

While reading the ingredients on the labels of various children’s yoghurt I met another friend. Kim’s name is one of the first Maddie could say – and boy does she like to say it. Kim’s daughter Megan ( Meggy as Mimi calls her) is a regular at our house, as we are at hers and we attend both swimming lessons and the same playgroup together. Kim has been one of the main reasons I didn’t jump back on a plane to England or under the wheels of a bus during the long, long, long, long wait for spring and summer. What is also nice is that Darren has found a buddy in the family too – golfing with Meggy’s daddy, Eden, has allowed him to see much of the local courses and enjoy many a beer cart too.

Summer finally came to Edmonton. Just when all hope was lost and it had snowed in May; suddenly the heat and sun were there like an apology for the hideously long wait! An interesting thing happens here, and very convenient too, it rains at night and is sunny all day. Fabulous!

The fine weather had people coming out of hibernation and saying hello. The walking paths behind the house were teaming with people pushing prams and walking dogs.

We spent time chalking up the sidewalks with a group of neighbourhood sisters (four girls live next door and Maddie loves watching everything they do).

Amongst the walkers with prams we met Jenny and Lorna. Madeleine has learned a few interesting things from Jenny (who is slightly older than her): like how to hop, how to say ‘Elmo’ and that running up and down, and back again is great fun. Lorna and I enjoy this activity from the sidelines while chatting – a sensible division of labour I think!

The summer whizzed by with various weekend outingsto keep us busy. We visited some local museums and parks as well as some of the nearest national parks. We even had a chance to see some buffalo roaming around free at Elk Island National Park. As I love buffalo this was a huge treat for me.

Madeleine enjoyed the summer splashing in the garden-hose and blowing bubbles in the shade of the patio. Lots of barbecue was had (it would have been unbearable to cook anything in the oven in the kind of heat we had). I actually managed to get a tan (by accident) from bicycle rides to the gym with Madeleine, trips to the park and generally staying outside as much as possible.

The end of our summer saw us meeting some friends in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. Chosen as the midway point between ourselves and our friends in Utah (Brian, Nola and their daughter Geneva) it is still eight hours by car to get to: quite an experience with a child under two (my ears are still ringing from the screams of boredom from the car seat). We spent a lovely few days cycling in the area, and playing poker and ‘Taboo’ in the evenings in the hallway by the lifts at the hotel so as not to wake our babies.

Our journey there and back took us through some of the most breath-taking National Parks in Canada. Scenery so beautiful it didn’t seem real and wildlife that you could reach out and touch (including a bear running out in front of our car) made us long to get back as soon as we can. On our return journey we even managed to stop and walk up the Columbia Icefields – an UNESCO World Heritage Site.

This last year Madeleine has been growing and changing from a baby into a toddler. She walks, runs, and jumps. She speaks in sentences, jokes with us and plays hide and seek. She laughs a lot and is a genuinely fun person to be around (when not having one of her rare but spectacular ‘moments’). She loves to read books and is a lovely cuddly type who gives loud kisses and tight hugs. Mummy really enjoys dressing her up and Daddy (although he will be cross for my saying this) loves to brush her hair (he says because he has none himself!). The tenderness between she and Darren is something I cherish and every evening his arrival home from work is an event, celebrated by her shout of ‘Daddy-Daddy!’. We are very proud of her and we enjoy her more and more each day.

Life in Edmonton has taken on a nice rhythm and is pretty good. We have recently purchased the house we were renting and are making plans to decorate it. Darren is enjoying the perks of a different work culture which is both family oriented and seems to involve a lot more golfing and social opportunities than the UK. Madeleine and I have made some more friends in the neighbourhood and get out frequently to play groups, indoor play parks and play dates.

It all flies by in a blur and I am sure I will be stunned by what changes occur between now and the next Christmas letter. We both hope that you and your families have had as exciting and interesting a year as we have and we look forward to hearing your news. And we wish you all the best for this holiday season and for 2010.

Watering down of foreign policy language

2009-08-18T19:56:00.003+01:00

In a recent article appearing in Embassy magazine by Michelle Collins indications of some not so subtle shifts in the foreign policy emerged.

Read on here and the follow up article here which indicates that some in the Department of Foreign Affairs are not too happy with this new direction.

Speak no evil

Photo credit:
clarita
from morguefile.com

Notes from Edmonton

2009-08-11T16:42:00.002+01:00

It has been a while since I wrote to any of my friends with a quality status update, so I thought I would remedy that right now!!!

After the moaning (subtle or not-so-subtle) about the weather in my previous updates I have to say that summer in the Chuck almost makes up for the months and months of cold that are a typical Canadian Northern winter. We have really been spoiled as most of this summer has been sunny or at the very least not raining (this is a distinction that only a person from the UK can truly appreciate) – don’t mind putting on a jumper but hate to put on a Mac!

This improvement in the weather has meant that we have been able to get out and about more and have thus met some new people. For those of you who are not on Facebook and have not been following my updates there – I have become a big fan of the gym and amongst my new friends have found a running partner. A lovely woman named Saskia who is a neighbour has been encouraging me to run – and has managed to get me out running a solid 30 minutes twice a week. Needless to say with all of this activity my bottom and some other wobblies have shrunk (much to my delight) – although there is still room for improvement.

Another thing which has improved with the weather is my attitude. I think the shock of a new country (new part of it in any case) added to being confined by the weather was getting me down. Being able to walk out without having to wrestle myself or a baby into any mad layers of clothing really does help make a girl smile! I am feeling more settled here and so are Maddie and Darren. They say ‘happy Mummy, happy household’ and I don’t think that is too far off the mark! I even have a bit of a tan (although it is hilarious when you see the tan lines (nothing sexy here - just above my ankles and anything that would show above the chest in a tank-top is lovely and brown…the rest is sort of a doughy white!).

We have had a chance (especially of late with Darren taking a week off work) to explore a bit more of the city and surrounding areas. Edmonton is not missing its beautiful parts – most of which are to do with the natural beauty of parks in Canada. We had the chance to visit Elk Island National Park – which has two types of Bison (plains and woodland) roaming around the park. We even have some photos of one old fellow just after he had a dust bath which involved him rolling around like a dog on the ground in some dry mud! Although we didn’t get onto any of the walking trails there – we did enjoy our recce of the area and have plans to go back at the end of the summer or in the autumn.

The Saskatchewan river flows through Edmonton and is surrounded on both sides by some lovely parks which we explored on both foot and bicycle – Madeleine has a new seat at the back of Darren’s mountain bike which she rides while wearing her pink and purple flame bike hat (helmet in Canadian lingo) all the while giving a fine imitation of the Queen in a golden barouche! Very cute! This seat is a fabulous addition to our lives because walking with an 18-month-old child can be like removing ones own teeth with a pair of tweezers!!

One of our favourite places in Edmonton (well mine anyway as I am a history junkie like my Dad) is Fort Edmonton. This is a really cool place which has helped to preserve the history of the city of Edmonton by reconstructing and preserving historic buildings of the area. There are three main streets set in different eras and a reconstruction of the original fort which was found at Edmonton. The park has reenactments, in the form of employees in traditional and historical dress, which occur daily - with special events throughout the summer. It is a great place for a Sunday wander - and as not all the buildings are open each time you go, there is always something different to look at. They also have loads of horses there - and Maddie is a HUGE fan - loves to pet them and, as with any living creature, she likes to shout at them (I guess this is her way of showing them how much she cares)! Hopefully, the next time we go we can get to ride the ferris wheel, or the street car(circa 1920), take a trip on the train (circa 1850s), or even a coach or buggie ride (circa 1850 and 1900 respectively)!

The new pace of life in Edmonton really seems to suit Darren – and his handicap is improving all the time. His new company likes to get its employees involved in events and quite of few of those involve either golfing or playing poker. I think this suits him down to the ground!

Madeleine is enjoying trying out everything – and I mean everything – around her. She is constantly pushing the boundaries – but luckily she is not too much of a Diva to get wound up when we put limits on her. Although her temper is coming along nicely! Every week brings a new fetish with her so if you don’t like some of her behaviour then wait a week and something else (also annoying) will take its place!

Well as she is currently wrestling in my lap I should sign off and hope that I will get some meaty update replies!

Lots of love!

Marjorie (Darren, Madeleine & Othello).

2009-07-09T15:41:00.004+01:00

Harper shows up late for G8 photo

Now we know where the wafer went...

The international press is speculating that Mr Harper was late due to an ill-timed bathroom break!

Campbell / King Christmas 2008

2008-12-16T07:40:00.032Z

So there we were – Christmas 2007: me with a bump that was tingling and itching and a tummy that was desperate for some decent nosh…dreams of paté, Stilton and a glass of something nice dancing in my head… and Darren desperate to get a good night’s sleep and not be woken by an ever-loo-visiting wife…

What a difference a year makes! Or in some cases, not so much (read on, dear friend, and see)!

Our little bump has turned into a lovely Madeleine girl, I have gone off Stilton completely, mostly given up drinking, and now am up to sort out someone else’s nocturnal bathroom activities! Ah, parenthood!

Through-out our pregnancy Darren and I had a strong feeling that our baby would be a boy. So strong was this feeling that we began referring to Peanut as “Jack”. It was quite a surprise for us, therefore, when on February 17th at 5AM the doctor told us: “Your Jack is a Madeleine!”.

I cannot explain the fear and relief with which little Miss Madeleine was greeted. “Wow – babies are small!” is constantly on your mind. And you treat them like crystal as a consequence.

Now, in month ten, we are quite confident and happy parents adoring our beautiful girl. She is crawling at the speed of lightening, exploring her surroundings, playing with other baby friends… and generally getting into the mischief little ones do – and yet still making us smile. Every day she is a revelation and joy to be around!

The big adventures of 2008 have been of a very different nature to those of 2007.

In January of 2008 I went on maternity leave – having worked up until the last moment (or so I thought) giving myself two weeks before my due date to get ready and nest. [Little madam decided that the conditions in the spa being so lovely she would need coaxing at ten days past my due date before she would make her appearance.]

Part of the nesting process was to attend ante-natal classes (where they show you various implements that require years of psycho-therapy to overcome the sight of).

The classes were really great – mostly because I met a group of women I expect to call life-long friends. Fabulous, mad ladies who do things like sing-along to Abba tunes at the movies, dance in time to Grease videos at house parties, and generally prevent all forms of insanity in one another by the sharing of the burdens of new motherhood. Our mottoes are: “Let them eat cake – often!” and: “Fancy meeting at Starbuck’s?”

The other themes of this year were visiting and introductions – or even better a combination of both!

In the visiting category – Mimi’s Grandpa came from Canada to meet her in late March. Big and interesting is how she describes him – calm and fascinating is also what she said. We have some lovely memories of seeing tiny wee Mimi in Alexander’s arms having only eyes for each other. We took Grandpa around to see the local sights, which included Foxton Locks (and it’s fabulous pub) as well as a day trip to see Lincoln Cathedral.

Spring also brought the other half of her Montreal family in the form of her Auntie Christine, Uncle Cameron, and her cousin Lucas. We had a really great visit – if a bit chaotic (as only the worlds of two such mini-titans could bring – children’s schedules are a delicate balance and must be respected!).

It was during this visit that we heard the fabulous news that the Daviault-Campbell clan were off to New Zealand to pursue a doctorate (Christine), to join the fellowship of the rings (Lucas – he is hobbit size after all!), and to become an All Black (Cameron – because her knows the Hakka off by heart!)! The latter being a joke but the former making her family exceedingly proud!

Through-out the summer the mummies group was going strong – meeting once a week for tea and biscuits (lots, and lots of both!). Much sage advice and quite a bit of therapeutic gripping being exchanged while the little ones moved from lying prone to sitting up and taking notice to beginning to crawl and cruise. Many bits of health and development information was shared and we realised soon enough that the mysteries of baby malaise have not been cracked by the medical profession any more than it has been by any of us. Baby paracetamol seemed to be the general cure for all ailments!

Late August saw us off to for our first family camping trip to lovely Cornwall. In typical British camping style the weather was fine on the drive home. Madeleine enjoyed camping the tent was cause for much hilarity and she slept very well indeed. Ensconced between her frozen parents, who were too afraid they would roll over and crush her, to actually take some of the bed back from the tiny tent hog! We did, however, manage to get some beautiful photographs of waves and this mad Canadian took a dip in the water (no wonder they were all wearing wet suits – it was blooming freezing – even by my standards!)!

August also saw us anticipating news regarding an on-going job offer from Canada and in September we finally went to give Edmonton the once-over as our final step before agreeing to take the plunge.

September saw another stamp placed in Mimi’s passport (jet-set baby!) when we went to visit Grandma Shirley in Tunisia. Madeleine loved her Grandma’s laugh, bobbly hair and is obsessed with a little train toy she was given by her. Darren and I enjoyed some time at the beach while Mads was whisked away for some “show off time” by her Grandma who brought her to see some of her work colleagues – everyone agreed she was gorgeous and so well behaved!

The final theme of 2008 has been new opportunities and moving house.

Ever the proud wife, please forgive what may sound like shameless boasting regarding Darren… be warned!

Darren is often the subject of head hunting and in most cases these contacts come to nothing – with offers not being able to match the package his current employer was giving. So when a firm from Edmonton, Alberta expressed interest in him and he went along to an interview I thought nothing of it. But with every interview the offer kept getting better and better until we felt we had to give the company and Canada a try.

We have decided, as a compromise, to keep the house in Market Harborough on and will be renting it – as we may wish to come back here at some point and it is always best to keep a foot on the property ladder as bricks and mortar are the most popular form of investment in the UK and prices are likely to shoot up again.

So in two days time we will all get on an airplane (Othello on his own flight direct to Edmonton after a stay at a cattery down south) for ten days in Montreal and then it is off to Edmonton for New Year and our new life.

We are very much looking forward to snow, and skiing in Canada (an experience we have yet to enjoy), and camping in summer – we will admit to being a bit amazed/perturbed/scared by weather reports showing -34.2C but being of stiff-upper-lip stock we will prevail with the “mustn’t grumble” attitude which made both our native countries great, soldier on and buy plenty of long underwear!

Look for us both on Facebook - by searching marca1971@hotmail.com to keep up with our latest news and for our new postal address.

Darren, Madeleine and I wish you Merry Christmas and all the best for 2009.

Heh Baby! Or where will the baby be and in what insane Cirque du Soleil-esq position will we find her...

2008-09-22T22:42:00.006+01:00

When Madeleine first arrived she was placed in a gorgeous white cotton covered moses basket with a little white sun shade on top. She seemed so impossibly small and delicate that we laid her in the bassinet like she was a porcelain doll made of eggs.

Eventually we could not ignore the fact that our little girl was getting too big for this starter bed. We went out shopping for her cot. It seemed impossibly large compared to our little baby. She was down at one end and a vast expanse of snowy (and rather expensive I might add) sheet was at the top (1/3 baby 2/3 sheets). Now she is growing into this bed and we are all getting used to it.

These days Madeleine is getting more and more mobile (she is nearly crawling). It has become incredibly interesting to go in and check on her - as she is almost always in some strange pose that is different from the last time you checked.

Currently, she is favouring a sort of prayer-like position kneeling with her bum in the air, face on the mattress and her little arms tucked under. She will be found like this on any part of the cot - often up in the corners at the top.

This morning my little chirpy girl was chatting away in her cot and so I went in wondering what to expect from the little acrobat and there she was sitting up cross legged in her bed smiling at me. I had to laugh and was thinking...it's all over now...we will never have a moments peace from now until she can walk properly...I think THIS weekend we should buy her a helmet!

Baby foot Haiku - too many sylables but what the heck

2008-08-29T10:03:00.004+01:00

Sleeping baby's foot
peeps from a blanket
my love grows

The other day while Madeleine and I were chillazing on the bed (I was trying to get my princess to take some rest) she fell asleep under her little pink blanket and all I could see was her little foot peeping out. My heart felt so full at that moment - and I realised what a miracle it is that she is in our lives - growing, learning, and filling our days with joy.

I never thought I would be so happy - my twenties, like many I am sure - were not the best and I spent a lot of time feeling really crap. Now it seems that being with someone I love and having a child has healed all of the sadness and filled me with such purpose.

Watching her now playing in the jumper in the doorway and chattering away saying things like "Mmmummm mmmmammm MMummm", and "Dadadadadaa" I get really excited thinking about what will happen next. She is so full of life and fun you can't help but smile at her.

My baby is an air mattress hog - or camping with our six-month-old princess

2008-08-14T22:14:00.003+01:00

We went to Newquay in Cornwall to go camping for a few days. Our little two man tent was great for the three of us. Mummy and Daddy lay squashed to the edges of the tent and Madeleine lay in the middle doing her immitation of a star-fish - happy as Larry.

The first night was very rainy but we still managed to have a cooked breakfast of sausages and brown sauce on baguettes. Gorgeous - sadly we did not go off and fell a forest so will be seeing those on my hips relatively soon. Later that evening - after we ate out at a pizza joint in town - Madeleine let her preference for Mummy homemade organic veg be known when she refused to eat anything out of a jar. She actually made the universal face of yuck! >:x

The second night of rain, however, made us realise that while it is good to have a tent which can withstand the gale-force winds of Everest it is not really all that fun to test it out. Madeleine - once again slept very well - Mummy and Daddy marginally better.

The one thing that we did learn as a couple, however, is that generally we like each others company a lot [well baring the navigational teeth-clenching conversations which usually end with someone saying "firetruck!"]. When you are stuck in a tiny tent for six or seven hours, and then in a car on an English motorway for another five you had better get along.

Madeleine didn't seem phased by any of it - but did seem pleased to be back home where Mummy and Daddy could play with her more and she wasn't constantly stuck in some sort of seat (car or pram because we couldn't put her down to sit on the ground or at the beach - she would either have gotten soaked at the campsite or taken off by sand devils at the beach).

So over all we had the typical English seaside holiday - freezing cold, rainy and cut-short by increment weather, topped off with the eating of something with brown sauce and some ice cream while wearing two layers to keep warm. Fabulous!

Weaning - or how your baby might suprise you today

2008-08-01T12:05:00.005+01:00

I have begun the arduous task of trying to wean my baby from the breast. Six months of hard but worth-while work has gone into the health of our 16lb 13oz daughter. She is the picture of health and energy - and the apple of our eye.

Something one should know about Miss Madeleine Anne: she will not be pushed. Our little girl went through phases where she would battle her Mummy and "disagree" with the introduction (or re-introduction as it were) of new things. From the start Miss Madeleine Anne had notions of her own as to how breast feeding would be accomplished - and would not hear of anyone trying to assist or teach her anything regarding technique (no matter that she was making Mummy ache and bleed - or that she was likely not getting enough milk), she simply would wrestle with me until she was in a position which suited her.

As a consequence of these boughts it was necessary to wear protectors for a while - this was not approved of and Miss M-A decided to revolt. Then eventually the protectors were not needed - and Miss M-A decided to revolt. These revolts took the form of much raging and crying and going red in the face.

Bottles of expressed milk were another source for battle - with a new brand eventually being purchased as Miss M-A prefered a different shape to those originally procured (at no small cost to the management).

Now Mummy - the evil torturer that she is - is trying to introduce death-poison on a spoon. Madeleine does not deign to scream but simply thrusts out her tongue and says "phwa" to various flavours of pureed veggies and fruit.

To date sweet potatoe has been met with a channeling of some ancient monarch's disdainful stony face. Cauliflower with a yuck face. Baby rice with a toleration which involves much spreading of it across the entire surface of her head (apparently it is good for your skin as hers is lovely and soft after a feed) and behind her knees. Apples are met with a with a look of perplexity that says: "This is marginally better woman, but don't you go pushing too much on me or there will be trouble!"

Last night - as a sort of "let's amuse myself at the baby's expense" experiment I tried some broccoli. [In order to continue with weaning which is a huge pain in the *ss one must please ones self periodically or go mad!]

Now I had read in several of my weaning books that as this was a strong flavour I shouldn't expect a positive reaction. Well blow me over, didn't the little blighter gobble it up. Mouth opened like a proper baby being fed and there really wasn't a lot of the stuff to be found anywhere but in her mouth.

I will not, however, become too excited by this success as baby will likely "school" me today if I serve her the same thing - and spit it out all over herself, the chair, table and of course her Mama. But blimey was I pleased with myself yesterday! Go Mama Margie!

For I Can't Help Falling in Love With You... [Again!]

2008-08-01T11:47:00.002+01:00

My husband is a hero! I say this and hear sniggering (his and likely some of my readership). He gets up at 4.55AM and goes off to work every day at 5.25AM. He takes a two hour train and then does it all in reverse in the evening arriving home at around 7.30PM.

I know many men commute long distances to get to their place of work - but none of them are my man.

This morning Madeleine and I were up because she was having a feed. Daddy being the source of much giggling had her going with rasberries on her belly and neck and with tickles under her arms (can you say extactic baby?!). We decided to walk him out and wave bye-bye to him. He is so lovely because my tough-guy personaed husband was putty in his little girl's hands and kept turning around to wave all the way up the street.

In the evenings Madeleine and I like to meet him at the corner of the street or at the station. [Sometimes this means charred dinner but who can put a price on love and affection between a hard-working parent and their child!] Darren is always so happy to see us [well Madeleine anyway] and Madeleine is always so full of smiles for her Daddy that it makes me feel part of something so special - even if neither of them spare a look at me.

I am so pleased that my husband is so hands on and loving with our daughter and that she just lights up when she sees him. I fall in love with him a little bit more each time I see them together.

Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future!

2008-06-29T14:02:00.002+01:00

OK...so not a long one...but one filled with wonder, awe and bafflement at how fast things move in baby-world. Miss Madeleine has been suffering from grotty-bumism of late. Grissling and grumping her way through a good part of the day. Yesterday while rubbing some teething gel onto her gums felt the suspicious sharpness of a tooth emerging (which would explain why feeding her is not always as comfortable for Mummy as it might be) - so by this afternoon you can see the top of the whole tooth (and someone's mood has started to improve - although the drool quotient is still pretty high!)! Can't believe how fast things keep moving.

There are some other developments which also are mind blowing:

- holds herself up on the edge of her crib

- sits up in a pillow and for brief spells on her own before slowly tipping forward (as if in slow motion) onto her forhead (don't worry we only practice this stance when she is on a soft surface!)

- has been able to identify all the really painful hair on Mummy's head to pull

- allows Mummy to put her under the water in the big girl's bathtub! (Splish splash we like to take a bath!)

- laughs spontaneously at a variety of things in a way that melts our hearts every time

- chats, and chats, and chats and chats (repeat)!

So it is very exciting at our time!

Motherhood (part two)

2008-06-11T07:12:00.006+01:00

So the labour thing:

When you are pregnant and you discuss labour with any of your friends and acquaintances who are parents you are often told that: "In the end when you have the baby it will all seem worth it!". This little comment will seem alternately daft, inane, and just generally unhelpful. I am here to tell you that it is in fact all worth it in the end. The most amazing thing comes over you once you have a newborn child in your life. I am not sure if it is anxiety at the fact that you are so clueless when it comes to child care, exhaustion from sleeplessness and the sheer demands of looking after someone's every need 24/7, or some kind of magical hormone released during/straight after labour but you seem to forget about all of the yuckiness and discomfort of labour literally as soon as they place your baby on your chest.

Connecting with baby:

The above "worth it in the end" phenomena, however, does not mean that you immediately magically connect to your baby. Frankly, it is all a bit alien. Sure you have been waiting to meet this person for 9 months (and significantly longer depending on how long you were trying to conceive) but you sort of sit there with your uncommunicative child trying to guess the nuance of every little cry, squeak, and squawk. For the first while this interpretation is rather rubbish and you basically stick to the major triumvirate of things which can be wrong (hungry, wee/poo in nappy, and tired). Then the fun begins for real.

Baby "is having an off day"/"Could be teething"/"might have a tummy bug (which is going around)":

At about four months of age you are now a bit of an expert with cries (grunts, squeaks and groans), can spot a dirty/wet nappy at 50 paces and have probably managed not to pass out while immunisations were administered. Then one morning you wake up and baby wakes up and they are just "off". Your normally happy, healthy baby is grotty, grumpy and just looks wrong. But don't worry the health visitor tells you...it's normal - baby's just have off days. And what you should do? Why give them some baby paracetamol - you know...drug them! Ah that's right! Sounds like a plan! Sigh! Mostly you just obsess with the other Mummies about what could be wrong - comparing baby health complaints in a similar way to swapping trading cards. And mostly it works out just fine.

Cuddles, contented sighs (yours and baby's), and loving looks

In the early days of baby's arrival you don't have much to do with the top end. Sure food goes in, and you kiss it there - but most of the action (or interaction I should say) takes place in the nappy region. This is the only place (apart from weight gain) where you can gage feeding success and the over all health and happiness of your child. Reasonable and intelligent people begin to "read" nappies in the way that soothsayers used to read the cards or auguries in the skies. You and your professional type husband can often be found looking into a nappy with a look on your face that resembles those of lottery winners. This is not crazy or sad - just normal behaviour when you have nothing else to go on.

Then something magical begins to happen. Baby starts to see you. And you suddenly have it reinforced for you to what degree you are their whole world. Their little faces turn towards you like flowers to the sun. Then even better - they giggle. The sound of your child's expression of joy and pleasure is something that you seek out. You have an intimacy with them in a way that you have never had with anyone else. These wordless communications are so profound that you are moved to tears (bless them but baby looks on at this mess with utter confusion). Tenderness also sets in around now. Madeleine has a habit - halfway through a feed of looking up at me adoringly with such a quiet and gentle look on her face that it never ceases to melt my heart.

New sounds are also introduced into your life - the best of all being the contented sigh. Where does this repertoire come from you ask...I don't know but it is surely a miracle - and well worth the confusion of the first days and months. And you find yourself sighing right back!

And then I became a Mummy

2008-06-09T16:27:00.003+01:00

So hoping that this post might be something that I can complete between naps and feeds and just general cuddling coz I can't resist.

On February 17 at 5:23 in the morning our little baby girl Madeleine Anne was born. The funny thing about her arrival (apart from the tremendous delay of 14 days) was that we had both decided our 'Peanut' (sobriquet of in belly baby bump) was going to be a boy. So when she was delivered with the help of a ventouse (yuck) the doctor exclaimed: "Your Jack is a Madeleine!". Little Miss Lungs (as I like to call her when she is asking for something) was placed on my chest and thus began the wonderful love affair we as parents have had ever since.

I was quite concerned before that I was not going to be good at the Mum thing - or that I was not really cut out for being a parent, or missing something maternal because I wasn't all that fussed about the dressing and decorating thing of the preperations. In fact I mostly thought that we were preparing for the arrival of a miniature SOCO unit member as all of the baby clothing we were able to purchase was white.

When she arrived we found it hilareous how most of said SOCO outfits looked like she was part of a Mr Clean, white-suit-only clown group (hugely too big for her).

The sad thing about babies is that they grow - I don't mean I don't want her to grow but what I realise is that they grow and change so fast you have to be careful not to miss anything. This is why I am really, really enjoying staying at home with her - especially as at four months she is really starting to be incredibly interesting. She giggles when she thinks you are funny (which in the case of her Father means as soon as she claps eyes on him), looks at you expectantly, lovingly, and inquisatively. She is reaching out to the world, and is giving it her opinion (wonder where that comes from! lol) and exploring.

Climbing Everest

2008-01-28T10:43:00.000Z

I have a hobby - I like reading outdoor adventure and travel books. I am particularly interested in all things Everest - this may stem from the fact that I am not all that likely to climb Sagarmatha myself (although I would love to see her with my own eyes) - or it could be that I am interested in heroic and foolhardy adventures pitting a single person against nature.

One thing they mention about people who do not return from Everest's notorious "Death Zone" 26,250 feet and above (her summit being 29,028 feet - about where airplanes normally fly) is that many of them have only prepared mentally for the summit and have not thought about or alotted the mental and physical space in their mind for the descent.

You ask yourself: "This is all very pretty stuff, and somewhat interesting facts are peppered in your post here - but what's it all about, Margie?!"

Well I am writing my birth plan today - a little guide that they say is a good idea to have so that when you are in labour you and the midwife know what kind of things you do and don't want to have happen when you may be non compus mentus in the delivery suite.

Now you are even more confused - Everest climbs and birthing...one a heroic deed taken on as an adventure the other a pretty common occurance which has been going on since the dawn of time? Hein?!

Well here is my theory - and it seems to play out on the bulletin boards and chat rooms where pregnant ladies get together:

There are those (and this seems to be along cultural lines) who have had the benifit of the more relaxed and inclusive form of birth planning here in the UK and parts of Europe with the midwife role model as key - who have been given free ante-natal classes and who have got down to brass tacks in terms of being informed about pregnancy, labour, and birth. This model is based on as little intervention as possible and presents child-bearing and labour as part of the human process rather than something which should be treated in any clinical way - unless absolutely necessary.

The second model which seems prevalent in the US - and so a certain extent in Canada(and this mind is from my chats on the internet and with some friends mostly in the US and some in Canada) seems to be predominantly based on treating women only in a hospital setting with as much technology, intervention and medication as possible (fiddling with inducements and cesareans when there are no medical indications to perform them -- some women on these boards can tell you to the hour when their baby is due! And one not uncommon post theme is describing the birth including a shopping list of drugs and implements used as though this were a normal every day thing).

Now don't get me wrong: I have friends who are proponents of natural births or minimum assited births on both continents, but the whole prospect of not having a doctor at the delivery seems foreign to many of the North American women I speak to, and midwifery or doulas are considered alternative and somewhat hippyish. It is important also to note that I do not think of anyone who needs assistance during birth as lesser. I don't think it fair to judge a woman by the standards of the care she is offered. What I am all about is the informed choice and think it is a shame when women (and their partners) do not have the benifit of the information I was lucky enough to receive or are left entirely on their own to figure it out because the system doesn't allow for a partnership role between patient and health care provider.

Looking at these two models will not help much with my Everest analogy - so let me explain.

It is my theory that the more a woman is put through a parternalistic system where the birth process is taken over by mechanical intervention as the norm and it is made to seem like a disease to be treated and feared; the less she is brought in to the process of her birth and told up front in a non-threatening and non-panic-inducing way what will be going on the less likely she is to make it down the other side without assistance. In otherwords she is Beck Weathers lost and wandering on the South Col - she will make it down but it ain't going to be pretty.

I am not going to sit here pretending that I know exactly how it is going to be when I go into labour. Every baby's birth is different. I am also not going to imply that I have a rigid sense of what will happen when the time comes - heck I have planned to ask for what is known as a "mobile epidural" so that I can have the benifits of pain relief while still being able to have as active a birth as possible...but if there are complications you bet I'll be waiting for the helicopter to airlift me to safety!

I have been given the benifit of so much helpful information by the midwife team in my area, with such good humour and within the circle of an ante-natal group of women I know will be life-long friends so I feel prepared to make it down the other side with as little fuss as humanly possible. I feel mentally ready to both summit and come down the other side.

So here I will plainly state: women in the Mummy club (and that includes the Beck Weathers contingent): I salute you! Wish me luck on my own personal journey, and bless me with all the good wishes you can - I'm going up girls!

Christmas Letter 2007

2007-12-23T23:00:00.000Z

I love writing these Christmas notes because it gives me a chance not only to share with you what Darren and I have been up to this year – but also an opportunity to look back and reflect on all the wonderful things which have happened and been accomplished over the past 12 months.

2007 started out with one of our fantastic trips (since meeting Darren I have taken up downhill skiing - lessons were a gift the first year we were together). This year we went on a package trip to a lovely resort area called Alpes d’Huez. The bonus about this place is that it is higher up than many of the other resorts in the French Alps and therefore was not suffering from the lack of snow many of its lower- lying cousins were. The accommodation was run by late-teen and early twenty-somethings so was heavy on the booze at table each night and had varying success on the food (under and over cooking being the chef’s specialty). We made some friends who we skied with during the day and went to dinner and dancing with at night. The big event however, happened on the first day when on the second run down the hill Darren took a tumble – well let’s be honest - several tumbles, down several hundred feet of the hill and broke his arm. Not to be deterred, however, that was the only day of skiing which he did not complete. My husband is hard!

March through May brought their very own joys – as we found a lovely house in our chosen village of Market Harborough. An Edwardian with period features which include the original claw foot bathtub and four working fireplaces. We made an offer which was accepted almost immediately (scary adult stuff) and started working towards our goal of moving in for late June.
May was also the month that my friend Danielle had her hen weekend in Shrewsbury – and as per request it was exactly what the doctor ordered – not too boozy and with no embarrassing clothing or accessories being forced on the bride. A good time was had by all.

May also brought with it our first Canadian house-guest in the form of a dear friend Alison Milley (my surrogate little sister). She had a wonderful time seeing the sights of London. It was a real pleasure to see our home city through fresh eyes – every night we got a great new episode in the series: “Do you know what happened today!?”. Fabulous!

June saw Darren and I move in to our new home – with our bookshelf and bean bag in tow!

In the United Kingdom – land of excellent sayings – they have an old and useful phrase: “New house, new baby!” and just to keep things true we brought one other thing with us other than our two pieces of furniture listed above.

Delighted with the news we were expecting our first child ‘we’ now had to work on not telling anyone. As you all will know this is not an easy task for anyone – let alone a Marjorie. Darren, in his usual Confucian way managed without any pangs at all. By the time three months rolled around I was fit to burst.

My father scheduled a visit to us for July. It was to his delight that he saw the first pictures (albeit internal belly shots) of his future-grandchild who has been given the sobriquet ‘Peanut’.

He had a lovely visit with us: seeing some of the best of Britain and probably lost a stone in weight because he did a marathon of walking not only in London, but on various forced marches around the country and of his own accord on some side trips to Berlin and Paris. It was one of the highlights of our year to have him staying with us – and allowed me to fuss over him a little (which I miss from home).

August flew by, taken over with Mummy fussing, Daddy planning (sports car traded in on a posh new Volvo sports wagon) and the blessed arrival of the second trimester (ah…not feeling like rubbish and not feeling like a narcoleptic are a wonderful gift)! I still had not developed much of a bump (hence why no bump pictures – despite requests for same – have been forthcoming) and thus was walking around looking a bit like the girl who ate all the pies. I was given the lovely nickname of Beer-belly-Jack in honour of my new ‘look’.

September was brilliant – as we were off to the Western US to visit with Brian and Nola. Outdoor adventure was the name of the game – and we covered not only all the bases but a lot of miles too! Taking in many incredible national parks in Utah and Arizona (Arches, Bryce Canyon, Zion National Park, and the Grand Canyon were along our chosen route) – the sights out that way are some of the most unusual and breath-taking to be found in North America and the company made the trip that much more fun. We walked in the dessert on a seven-mile hike during a heat-wave and then were treated to some snow not 10 miles away on a small stretch of forest just up out of the dessert – blessed temperatures to a Canadian girl who likes her walking in the pine woods or in the cool hills of Wales.

Toward the tail end of our trip we fit in a three-day visit to Las Vegas. Baking heat accompanied us there – and it was a relief to get some of the showers from the Bellagio’s famous water feature when we walked along the strip.

Taking a dip in both the pool and our mammoth tub were a welcome change from the more modest accommodation we found at our other road trip destinations. We needed a rest upon our return after all of the excitement and whirlwind of sights and sounds.

These last few months have been quite busy – with work finally realising: “Oh, you’re pregnant - that means we need to find a replacement for you during your mat-leave!” and everyone trying to get projects completed before my departure.

We have also – like all first-time-parents-to-be – been enjoying learning about all the new baby technology…did you know that the Canadian Space Agency makes a model of baby pram? Well let me tell you when they need to give you a two-hour tutorial in how to use the various settings it is obvious times and tastes have changed!

With all of the above to occupy us Christmas has approached so swiftly it is likely you will receive this card in early January!

Sitting here in the house that is looking very full and grown-up (we now own considerably more than a bookcase and a bean bag) and awaiting the arrival of our much-anticipated active and kicking ‘Peanut’ (due February 2nd) I am feeling very blessed.

It is with these sentiments in mind that Darren and I wish you a healthy, happy and rich (in all senses of that word) Christmas and a wonderful 2008.

We are looking forward to sharing news about the new person in our lives and to hearing all of your news.

Please don’t feel you need to wait until Christmas to drop us a line (last year I received a fabulous note for Easter from one of my cousins and it made my day)! We always love to hear the adventures of our nearest and dearest any time of the year!

With much love,

Darren and Marjorie

Keys

2007-06-07T14:36:00.000+01:00

We are going to pick up our keys for the house tomorrow. It is all so very exciting. In the last 4 years I have done so many things I never thought possible. I have moved to a new country, got married, learned to drive on the wrong side of the road and now a new house! Holy heck!

Will be bringing some boxes up with us tomorrow so that my friend who is visiting can actually have somewhere to sleep which does not involve a Sherpa like elevation.

Will post more about this as things come up!

I have a secret

2007-05-31T13:53:00.000+01:00

I have been bad at posting of late (thanks for the hijack Cameron) because I have been keeping a secret for 3 months. Darren and I have bought a house.

Now some of you will be thinking: "Why should that be a secret" or "What took so long" well welcome to English realestate 101! For those of you tuning in to this saga (my family have been hearing - the whispered discussions of this house purchase for some time) the English estate market is nothing like what we have at home. Here is a lovely wikipedia description of what we have been living with and why we have told no one about our purchase:

"When the owner accepts the offer on a property, the buyer will usually not yet have commissioned a building survey nor will the buyer have yet had the opportunity to perform recommended legal checks. The offer to purchase is made "subject to contract" and thus, until written contracts are exchanged either party can pull out at any time. It can take as long as 10-12 weeks for formalities to be completed, and if the seller is tempted by a higher offer during this period it leaves the buyer disappointed and out-of-pocket." link.

So my husband has made me do something that is nie on impossible for me: keep things to myself!

In the current market (which is insanely competitive) on can loose the house they have had an offer accepted on up until the last minute...so stress is not the word for the feelings in our little family!

So now the good news: we get keys on June 8, 2007! We will be living in splendour within a month!

Here are some illustrative pictures to give you a sense of just why we were so anxious to get this place and why it generally rocks!

Our house...in the middle of our street...la la la

Just one of four working fire places in our house - two are in bedrooms!

The kitchen with a gas cooker my very own dishwasher and quiet-close drawers, baby!

The lounge...ah lovely!

"Mr Bathtub, meet Marjorie, you will be spending a lot of quality time together!"

A thought

2007-05-30T15:29:00.001+01:00

I think Marjorie is having too much fun living in England to write about having fun in England.

This makes for an exciting Marjorie and a boring blog.

I have fallen down on the job!!!

2006-12-10T10:04:00.000Z

I have to confess...I like to be the first one to send out Christmas cards. It gives me a great deal of satisfaction to know that I am the most efficient of the people I know. Well thanks to my cousin in Scotland this is not the case!!! Drat!

I love Christmas cards...and am always hopeful that I might get them in return - and this year have decided that I will begin culling my list (well next Christmas anyway). I had got into the habbit of sending them out to both my list of friends and my mother's also. The funny thing is that even though I am 35 a lot of them think that I am a kid and therefore send a card to my Dad and include me - along with my brother who has never put a pen to paper on this front - in the salutation. I know one should not be doing things in order to receive something in return - i.e.: I should not be expecting to get a message back just because I am sending one out...but it would be nice to...none-the-less! But I am not holding my breath. I think the thing is that without them sending me a note I don't get to hear the annual gossip about what their kids (who I grew up with) are up to.

This year is my first Christmas boast...er...ahem...Christmas letter. The thing that is good in our family is that we really don't have to work too hard at sharing information which might be off-putting and sound like we are boasting. Thanks to a collection of geniuses (that's us) we are pretty much covered! ;o) Oh and there is the fact that for the most part we are a happy lot! Go US!!!

In other Christmas card news...I would, however, like it if my cousins (who I grew up less than 20 miles away from but never knew) would send me a note at some point. My mother, in the last few years of her life, had managed to make contact with them again, enjoying their company and friendship, and when we met at her funeral they expressed a desire to keep in contact. So - my gauntlet is down...sent the cards this and last year - will see what happens.

But what I was saying above about culling is based on this (well all except for the kissin' the ladies part):

Caledonia - Dougie Maclean

I dont know if you can see, the changes that have come over me
In these last few days, I've been afraid that I might drift away
And I've been tellin' old stories, singing songs
That made me think about where I came from
That's the reason why I seem so far away today.

CHORUS

Oh but let me tell you that I love you
And I think about you all the time
Caledonia your callin' me and im goin' home
But if I should become a stranger
You know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia your everythin I've ever had.

Well I've been moved, and I've kept on movin'
Proved the points that I needed proovin'
Lost the friends I needed loosin'
Found others on the way
And I have kissed the ladies and left them cryin'
Stolen dreams there's no denying
Travelled hard with contience flyin'
Somewhere with the wind

REPEAT CHORUS

Now i'm sitting here, beside the fire
The empty room the forest choir
Flames that couldn't get any higher
They've withered now they're gone
But I'm steady thinking my way is clear,
And I know what I must do tomorrow
When the hands I've shaken and the flown I will dissapear.

REPEAT CHORUS

Christmas...land of discovery: real and imagined

2006-12-07T22:44:00.000Z

Ah....Christmas...land of the party and the secret meetings between odd pairings of office mates. Yes...drinking too much with your adversary....worthy...or otherwise...and having that heart-to-heart. This always seems like both a good idea and filled with new information that will create a bonding "team" moment - but really only gives them amunition to use against you at an opportune moment when it will cause you the most personal and career damage!

As we get older...and hopefully wiser...it is one of those things we hold to our hearts and remember: the "walk of shame" to our desk on the day following our "great" night out!

I have been in an odd situation for many years prior to moving to the United Kingdom. I have never really attended a work Christmas "do". So when I first began where I work I did not actually know how to get on. I spent a lot of time drinking - as one does when one is still in the college frame of mind - like a savage. I got quite drunk and was my usual self but with a difference. The difference being that the group of people I was with were not using the opportunity to drink themselves full...but they were using it to maneuver and climb and basically reenact various scenes from The Prince or The Art of War.

My first year in the current job...I made an ass of myself by staying at my bosses place and being the last to leave. I must admit that I have never managed to get back into her good books.

So this year I have approached the Christmas party season with a far more professional approach and have decided, in advance, the kind of behaviour appropriate to each of the events I am planning on attending. I have decided that at the party where the big wigs will be in attendance I will be the wing man to my newly instated colleague who I want to make into a friend - and prevent our boss' fumbling and cringe-worthy introductions from happening...and allow her to prevent me from making a shit-faced looser of myself. I have decided that at the luncheon on the Friday which is our section Christmas "do" I will have A glass of beer or two (at the most) or a cider even...but leave it at that...and then later on that day...dance my ass off at the "fun" party everyone is looking forward to where there is a DJ and my husband will be coming to meet me!

Planning...all events which successfully executed cannot do without it!

My next installment - my ire at being piped to the post at being the first to send Christmas cards! Darn that efficient cousin in Scotland!!!

That tingle at the back of your neck...

2006-12-01T10:16:00.000Z

Weird confession time with a lengthy explanation

I sometimes joke that I have a girly spidy-like sense that let's itself be known by a tingling in the back of my neck and shoulders. This sense would be really great - if only it were to portend the arrival of something important - sadly it is restricted to when I am out shopping or at the hairdresser and I feel that I am being looked after. This is actually sort of sad - for more than the obvious reasons - because it indicates that my usual level of operation is so low that when I get good service or someone is taking care of me I get a euphoric feeling...can you say sad indictment of my experience and of my self-worth?

All this to say that not only did a get a suit (a steal at 155.00 pounds when you throw in a tailored shirt and really good camisol)...but walked out of the shop feeling like a million quid!!! Thank you helpful ladies at Mexx - Covent Garden shop!

P.S.: Those killer shoes I have only ever worn on my wedding anniversary look FAB with the new suit...my man will want to get me a burkha I look so smoking!

Something sinister afoot...

2006-11-30T13:40:00.000Z

This little title is how I feel...

Am attempting to purchase my first suit - for a Christmas party which is coming up...so far...no joy! If I wanted to show off 90% of my t*ts...no issue...a plethora of Christmas t*t-showing dresses for your viewing pleasure Madam! If I fancy a gold lamé/sequined mini-dress I have a wide selection...but me...all I want is to buy a formal suit. I am stuffed!

Was at M&S again today...and must admit that I am now feeling down hearted!!! After wrestling my way into the dressing room - annoyed and overheated from dodging a persistant Assian lady who seemed to be everywhere at once around the clothes I wanted to look at - I tried on a hilarious set which I could either have fit my waist (which is small) or my boobs (which are big) but not both...so either look like a tart in a badly fitted suit...or look like a nun in a badly fitted suit! :::sigh::: Am now in fashion crisis mode!!!!

Where are Trinny and Suzanna now?!?

Sunday, the last day of our week off

2006-11-12T12:45:00.000Z

Time off means good food and drink and...

Time off means good food and drink and then lots and lots of time at the gym. After our adventures in Dorset we made our dutiful way back to the gym this AM. Got on the running machine and had one of those balking moments where you body just says: "Um..Actually Margie...I would prefer not to run up this artificial hill...In fact I think I will now make it impossible for you to continue..How about them apples?"

First day in iPod land

What I may not have mentioned in my previous post was that apart from his general genius a choosing holidays my husband is also a complete star who bought me an iPod Nano (8GB) and so I enter the land of the connected and plugged in that you will find on the running machines. There are positives and negatives to this new experience. On the plus side I can listen to the music I want (Eminem baby...and loud!!!). On the down side I do have a little bit of learning to do with this new equipment so that when I am giving it large on the running machine I don't suddenly start hearing Blue Rodeo love songs kick in and ruin my vibe. I reckon that this little purchase will lead to others; just like the camera I bought for Darren...(new lense please wifey!).

Arms heavy...hard to type

I guess that I am feeling a bit tired right now and no amount of Costa Coffee or cups of Twinnings tea will sort it out...I am definitely in need of some serious time at the gym, and I mean everyday!

The real problem I am experiencing is that I really like to cook these days and the thing is that I also like to bake and so naughty me has been making the most tempting oatmeal biscuits and hubby and I are eating them! Thank goodness for our efforts in the rolling countryside of Dorset or else our asses would look like barn doors!

Monday, Monday, can't love that day...

So it is back to work tomorrow. I have to say that it would be really really nice not to have to go back..Like Euromillions win would be a good thing on Friday...this I have been told is not financial planning, but a girl can dream right?! Well I shall shoot off to sort out laundry and various other tedious Sunday jobs which help to remind me what duty is again after our splendid week of time off!

The South Coast of England and the Jurassic Period – two phrases that definitely go together

2006-11-10T14:24:00.000Z

Birthday surprise

Darren and I had scheduled a week off in November this year – a wise move as it is a long slog from August until Christmas (the UK – the savages – have no holidays in this period)!

Our time off coincided with my 35th birthday – which fell on the Wednesday of the week off. I didn’t realise we were going anywhere until I started making noises about wanting to have a party and Darren told me that he had planned a couple of days away for us instead. He is fond of surprising me on my birthday so this year all he would tell me is that we were going to the Jurassic Coast and that he wanted me to figure it out for myself as to where that was.

The Jurassic Coast

The Jurassic Coast is a little known treasure of England...well I should say little known to those who do not watch BBC’s Coast. This 95 mile stretch of coastline between East Devon and West Dorset represents 185 million years of spectacular history.

A bit of background here to let you know just how spot on a husband choosing this mini-break for me could be...I was brought up in a household with a father who was very interested in geology, paleontology, archaeology, and any kind of general old-stuff with a mother who was an artist with a penchant for landscape painting of seaside and mountainous scapes...add that to my almost fanatical love of all things water (puddles, streams, waterfalls, lakes, seas, oceans, rain) and you get the idea! Husband, we have a winner!

We were booked into a little town, which any of you who have ever read or watched The French Lieutenant’s Woman will know, called Lyme Regis. We were staying at a little hotel facing the harbour with a view of the famous Comb. The area, if you do not know, is a popular destination with old-folk from around the nation to retire to (more on this later) and so there were the requisite zimmer and cane gang. This town, however, is still a living-breathing one and is quite posh in many ways. Surrounded by all the kinds of views one could want I thought it was a very romantic.

We arrived early on Tuesday and left our car at the Red Lion Hotel’s car park and went off wandering along the beach. It is a rock beach which knackers your ankles and knees. After the 3-4 hour drive I think Darren was a bit weary so we didn’t do our usual full on quick-march but managed a leisurely stroll along to Charmouth and back again before a few beers in the bar and checking in. Then it was a quick change and a wander down the other side of the beach for a few photos of the sunset before returning for our dinner.

Why you should never meet someone who is having a birthday on Tuesday when you are planning on walking on Wednesday morning

Dinner was a lovely affair – included in the price of our room along with breakfast – we had crab cakes to start, venison and veg for mains and a nice tiramisou for pudding. A bottle of red shared between us added nicely to the beer we’d had before our check in...and then a couple walked in quite late for their tea...a chap we’d seen in the bar earlier asking the barman about “getting some fresh prawns”. It turned out that he was celebrating his 64th birthday and so after chatting with them and another gentleman we adjourned to the bar for drinks – after closing the place (thank goodness at around midnight) we went up to bed.

I spent the night popping over to the loo to have a glass of water (about 10 times) because I know my husband...and after having said we would probably walk to Seaton (8 miles away) and back I knew that we would be in for a long day and having a hang-over would not help.

Thank you Red Lion Inn for serving breakfast starting at 8:30AM....you saved me from a 6:00AM start. The Full English later and off we marched to begin our walk to Seaton. I don’t know what either Darren and I were expecting really, but when they say “Coastal Walk” we were not expecting to walk through a forest...not that we have anything against forests...but let’s just say it took the whole “Coastal” aspect out of the walk. It was clammy in amongst the trees...kind of almost tropical really and considering it was November – rather freakish to see bumble bees and other bugs flying about...let alone wandering around with just t-shirts on. The walk itself was not terribly challenging (in spots it was but being used to the Glyders in Wales this was pretty tame) and was managed in three hours...much slowed by the dehydration of the members of the walking partnership: I am writing this down as I never expect to hear it again from the lips of my Uberman “I feel sluggish”...well knock me over with a feather!!!

All of the above is not to say that the walk was not spectacular in its own unexpected way...we both felt that the forest itself had a Jurassic quality to it – being that the trees and plant life were intense and strangely tropical (again not knowing that much about the place before arriving and having seen no photographs of anything but the rocks in the area we did not know what to expect). In 1839 there was an enormous landslide and apparently it was the first ever to be scientifically recorded by eye-witnesses, which is to say: “Cool a house slid over the cliffs and you can see its ruins in the forest to this day” and “apparently the family who owned it used to sell afternoon tea to the Victorian visitors (amongst them Jane Austen who set part of Persuasion in the area after her visit) in this unusual setting” and hence a photo:

Village of the Living-dead

We arrived in Seaton ::::shudder:::: which had a collection of fossils of a different kind than those found on the beach. The town should change its name to “Village of the Living-dead” because the average age was 82. As we wandered up the High Street we felt all cataract and ropy eyes on us...we must have found the only young person (that being a woman in her 30s) at the bus stop – exceedingly friendly and helpful. Once all the old folks had teetered onto their various busses and we were alone with her I asked her if they had been a good example of what the average citizen was like and she said yes. Sad fact: the average local earns around £12,000 a year and as a consequence of the influx of old dears from richer areas further north property prices have been driven up so much people born in the area cannot afford to buy property and are priced out of the market. In a cynical moment I said to Darren...what the young people need to do is start up funeral parlours...which to me seems to be the only growth and non-seasonal industry. It was a very strange experience coming from London where the average person tends to be a young professional and also made me realise I have to keep fit and plan a good hairstyle for my retirement.

Portland...feeling ambivalent

At dinner on Wednesday, my birthday dinner, we discussed our return journey and decided to take in the sites along the coast to Lulworth Cove (which my readings on the Jurassic Coast site made me keen to visit). Driving west along the coast to Portland you see plenty of spectacular scenes including the Fleet, a natural lagoon which is home to, amongst other things, the largest managed population of swans on earth...sadly, the swannery was closed so we pushed on to Portland.

Portland is a strange old place – it is a living town (with actual working population and children and everything) – famous for its rock quarrying. It is hard place to love because many people would like it if there was no longer this kind of industry going on – pretty impressive to see them removing the stone and seeing all of the disused quarries littering the place (big holes in the ground). Coming from Canada you have your share of controversy in terms of costal employment so I am not unfamiliar with the ambivalence people might feel towards the Isle. I feel it is a difficult thing to ask a population to do nothing so as to comfort a (usually) more affluent part of the population uncomfortable with what the local industry represents. Bearing in mind that in this case Portand is literally responsible for building the more affluent parts of cities further north (Portland stone is a major building element in many of London’s best-loved scenic attractions: Nelson’s Monument, the National Portrait Gallery to name but two).

Why didn’t we walk this way?

Lulworth Cove was a bit of a surprise...we pulled in to the car park there, situated in a valley, at around 11:00AM and a kindly lady vicar gave us the hour left on her car parking ticket (we know she was a vicar as her friend remarked that this might not be the correct thing to do if one is a vicar – any CofE readers are welcome to this debate...but I thank her because we had no change!)!

We walked down toward Stair Hole...sounds far less impressive than it is. Here was exactly what I had expected to see when I was thinking “Coastal Walk” – Darren took several amazing shots here with his new SLR camera (its first major foray).

We then decided to climb up the hill (by this I mean slog up to the top pretending as I passed older people on their way down that I wasn’t breathing like Darth Vadar) to see Lulworth Castle. This climb was what I would call: “worth doing on hands and knees over glass” for the following reason:

All I can say is that if we do not go back here in the spring or summer I will be very, very cross indeed! I can just imagine this as the set of some part of Pirates of the Caribbean...and thus have decided to use pester power to have my way on this one...that and agreeing to staying in a stationary caravan (think trailer park) and you will have idea of the lengths I will go to to see and walk this coast again!

Dublin...Brought to you by Bulmer's Original Cider

2006-08-29T13:12:00.000+01:00

Over the weekend my husband and I had a chance to use up some vouchers we received as compensation from BA for a cock-up over a ticket exchange.

To use the vouchers we needed to come to the exact amount or more. So we decided that we would fly out to Dublin first class and back cattle. We also managed to pay for the accommodation out of the money - so ideal really after an expensive summer holiday.

First Class Lounge at Gatwick Airport

We are old enough, my husband and I, that we have lots of travel under our belts - but young enough that we are not jaded about the prospect of free stuff. Enter the BA first class lounge...Ah swanky loveliness which included a place for me to go and send a quick (free I might add) note to boast to friends and loved ones, expensive wine in hand.

In the lounge itself we crossed paths with Academy Award winner (Best Actor) Adrien Brody - had a little joke with him over some mineral water...All very, very! ;o)

Sadly, my husband had been out the evening before so was not feeling as well as he might...So I was drinking for two. While he napped in the comfy chairs I read every newspaper I could lay my hands on and drank 4 glasses of Pouilly something or other! Yum!

Dublin...It's very green

They aren't kidding...Emerald isle!

Bulmer's to Magner's Taste Test

So there we are in a pub...In Dublin..."Imagine ca!"...And it was really warm...So the thought of having a meal in a glass didn't quite appeal...What to do? Well kiddies...In the United Kingdom there is currently a rather aggressive marketing campaign for an Irish cider called Magner's. Magner's on ice to be precise...So there we are thinking...I could murder one of them!...And fancy that we're in Ireland. So get up to the bar and ask for a Magner's and the bloke behind says "From London?" this with my accent and all...So then he told me "Its Bulmer's over here"...Now the only difference is that the Magner's is twice the price in Ireland (and the UK for that matter) and they don't have a posh bit of foil round the top...That being said...Yummy same stuff on the inside!

Jameison's Whisky is quite nice...But not as nice as single malt

The Jameison's Whisky factory tour is quite naff really. They show you a video and then take you through a mock factory set up in a traditional setting...They also have dummies in the displays who need better wigs...And I mean big time!

The best bit was that during the movie you get to put up your hand as a volunteer...Which I did...And then yippee at the end they let you sample about 6 ounces of various types of whiskey...still liked the single malts best...but what a journey...and then it was back to the Hotel for some well deserved rest (i.e.: Marjorie was a bit legless and needed to put her head on the pillow in order to be sure that she was in a fit state to fly the next day).

Over all Dublin is a lovely city...and must say would like to explore Ireland more (particularily the North)...but the fact is that it is a very posh city that costs a lot and has loads of the same shops on the High Street as does London and can wind up costing the earth! I think that going there on a Blooms day (James Joyce's Ulysseys novel is set on that day) and it would be excellent to follow the footsteps of its lead character would be really cool as well. So potential for more exploring.

UK Terrorist Plot Disrupted

2006-08-10T11:38:00.000+01:00

Sitting here in my office off Trafalgar Square - a block or so away from the Houses of Parliament in Westminster - I am very well placed to say that the British spirit of soldiering on in the face of adversity is alive and well (there is a performance of some kind being sound tested outside as I type and I can hear the tour buses giving guided tours).

MI5 have pronounced the threat to be "critical" meaning although "an attack is expected imminently and indicates an extremely high level of threat to the UK" we should - as our Minister Reid says go about our daily business uninterupted.

July 7, 2005 was a horrible day - walking to Victoria station as a member of the subdued but still spirited British public - was one of the most emotional days of my life. No one I know directly was affected by those bombings, beyond mild inconvenience in transport. Everyone I know made it home from work and was back at it the next day - with two fingers pointed straight up and in the faces of the terrorists trying to subdue them.

Here is another day of that kind of threat - British families will be at the airport - ready to travel to their beer and sun loungers in Spain, Portugal and Florida. They will be cranky - they will be whinging - but they will mostly be going. "We've seen it all before, innit?"

So while the Met has day two of good news (big murder trial result yesterday) I am looking forward to my girls night out in Clapham and will be lifting both two fingers and a few glasses of wine...I am after all working towards my British citizenship!

Problem with being a Renaissance Woman

2006-08-09T11:01:00.000+01:00

Ok..so I admit it...I am a news junkie. I love to read as many news sources as possible on a huge variety of topics...this, however poses me one big problem - I cannot be a single issue blogger so my posts are absolutely random and if not random then well written TV obsessed sadness.

I only say this because the other thing - apart from news and entertainment gossip - that I like to read are of course other blogs. I marvel at the coherent entries of some of my fellow bloggers. They are all about the politics and seem to know things that only Superman or God could...it makes me feel tired just thinking about how many hours they must devote to their writing. I am a fickle blogger at best - managing bursts of inspiration when there is not a lot on at work. Normally, every six months or so it gets "tumbleweed quiet" and I have a moment to reflect...

I have, for a while, been interested in finding a subject to write on, but being married means that the only sex I have is the kind that I don't wish to share with all and sundry - ie. Intimacy stays intimate - and the fact that I am so overwhelmed by information in my work life (need to keep up on international news, think tanks, policy for work) that I tend to shy away from writing about politics...so I guess I will have to stick to random rants about strange subjects and comments on the weather in London!

Baby Rant

2006-08-08T16:28:00.000+01:00

All the stories in the paper about the conflict between Lebanon and Israel are freaking me out. It is a very scary thing to see pictures of children and mums walking beside their former houses, or inside make-shift body bags.

I spend a lot of my time as a newly married person fending off questions about having children. I never thought I would get married - I never imagined that I would meet a guy I liked enough or who liked me enough to stay...so shock number one is still sending me realing...so asking me about babies is so beyond anything...I am still working my way up to the idea that I might actually own a house!!!

So here is a shout-out to all the people who ask about the parenting plans of their married or coupled friends:

"None of your damn business...n'k?"

When you look at the situation in the world and you realise that while we are not all having bombs dropped on us - the birthing and raising of children is a perilous thing...so much can go wrong.

In our highly mythologised "perfect" western world we are rarely confronted by this fact. We are very lucky at what is available to us. We don't tend to see polio victims, or conjoined children anywhere but on telly, and we don't have to live with the fact that a house fell on our family. We see sentimentalised, perfectly formed-and-casted über babies who never cry, and only have the kind of defect that is a cute one. But things can still go wrong.

Spare a thought - I may be thinking about having kids but is that anyone's business?...I may also be in my little head thinking of all of the above and freaking out, worried about medical conditions, miscariages and wondering if I should have children at all - so before you ask: do you really want to know?

It's been a long time coming...

2006-06-07T09:07:00.000+01:00

I have not been posting because of my busy London life.

Today I feel like boasting about being in London because today it is not an utter pain in my arse!

This winter and spring have been dry but dreary - so we have a hose pipe ban - coming from Canada where water is plentiful I find this incomprehensible. But now truly understand it as they have told us that London has less water in its capital available per person than do people living in Syria (which I understand is quite hot/dry).

That being said I have found living here very difficult because of the weather - it is very tiresome to have constant rain AND feel constant guilt at wanting to take a bath (be a burden on the water supply) to shave my legs. In fact until this week it was pissing down and cold with a regularity which was driving me to despair/suicide!

Today, however, when there is sun and the city is basking in a Turner-like glow you kinda feel good about it all - so I will think of you all at lunch as I walk over the Hungerford bridge to have a look at the Abbey, Houses of Parliament, the Thames, and the Millenium Wheel (I might even raise a sneaky half to you all)...But don't be too jealous...Next time it is really gloriously sunny (like it usually is in Canada) all of you can think of me and raise a glass in reply (mockingly if you must!) and imagine me trying to wear sandals without drowning!!

First Christmas Without my Mother: New Year's Resolution

2006-01-02T12:28:00.000Z

I have something horrible to admit. Mostly when I think of my Mother I feel relief at her passing.

My mother was ill for 21 years and so our family were basically in mourning for her from the first diagnosis to her last breath this summer. She suffered a lot from her illness. We all pretended this wasn't the case (because we were asked to) and acted like everything was ok - when a lot of the time it was f*cking awful.

In a situation like ours all family energy and focus is expended on pleasing the person who is ill and making their life comfortable and full. Very little of our time growing up was spent dealing with ourselves, our needs or celebrating rites of passage in our own lives - which while understandable was very difficult, sad and damaging to both my brother and I.

I have been feeling an almost strange calm regarding her passing. I think it is to do with the fact that now we don't need to pretend any longer and can admit her suffering is over. I have other feelings: anger, frustration and anxiety. I have behaviours: a trigger temper and excessive crying at sad stories. But really most of the time I am enjoying life as a newly-wed and am happy with the way my life is going.

It concerns me that I see my brother dealing with things differently - I read his blog or speak to him and see him feeling things I don't feel and wonder if I ever will.

Towards the end of my Mother's life she and I had made peace with our difficult relationship. Among other things my Mother was pretty focussed on herself (part of being an invalid or her natural personality?) so it was hard to get a look in when you needed something and most problems palled in comparison to hers. But after years of really unpleasant exchanges I realised that she was never going to be the source of my bliss - went about finding my own - and thus was able to begin to focus on the things that I did enjoy about her.

My mother was a strange woman from an even stranger family but she was a really great artist and this, I think, more than anything else is where we connected and found language where we neither resented each other nor competed.

I moved to England after spending a year or two living with my parents again. I finally broke free from a very unhealthy focus in my life and instead of obsessing about the inevitable death of my Mother got on with living my life. It wasn't easy at first to switch the focus from my parents to my partner...and I missed the connection horribly. What is wonderful is that I managed to sever this unhealthy connection in her lifetime - which meant that it was not the trauma of her death which accomplished this but a natural movement towards my own life and goals.

I think that my anger is the natural response to the resentment I feel and have always felt at how my brother and I were rarely, if ever, the focus of the family (as children should be some of the time). I mourn still for the way I constantly felt like my feelings and needs were not important when compared to my mother's illness - and the fact that some pretty terrible things happened to my brother and I because our parents never had time and took their eye off the ball. I love both my parents and know they did the best they could with what they had under the circumstances - but also feel angry that I am not even allowed to blame them and say that this excuse is not good enough.

After writing this I have decided on a New Year's resolution: I will not let another calendar year see me hold on to these feelings and will get the help I need to move past these long-held feelings. I will not drag these feelings with me into my new relationship with my husband and will not burden any children I have with these feelings of ambivalence. I will look to the future and start all of my relationships with the ones I love fresh this year.

Christmas Holiday Wrap-up

2006-01-02T11:18:00.000Z

As my husband and I have done for the last few years, we spent our Christmas holidays in Montreal where I am originally from. When we go we stay at my parents’ house. To recap from earlier news - my mother died earlier this year and so we are now staying at my father's house.

Before flying out to Montreal I have to admit to not having a great feeling of Christmas spirit in me...I had finished all the shopping and had attended all of the parties (working in Government means there are quite a few) but still was feeling a big bit of nothing inside.

This year I did well on gift purchase for everyone but my husband. I love that man but he doesn't half make it difficult to buy for him. He never says anything but I draw my own conclusions from his discomfiture at receiving gifts. So for some reason I was tempted into a Jamie Oliver (aka the Naked Chef) type of theme and got him some very swanky stuff from a very posh cookery school/store - which upon receiving he made fun of and has yet to stop...oh well at least he liked his DVDs of Season 1 and 2 of Little Britain! Sigh!

After packing one whole case of gifts to bring over to Canada and a huge case with both my husband and my clothing I was not feeling any more Christmassy than before - add to that the fact of a ridiculous 29" round shower curtain in a 34" square box and you can imagine how the airport journey and customs experience might play out.

Montreal: or "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" portion of the show

The one thing I really wanted - after running around an extremely green London England in the month of December - was snow. I kept repeating to all and sundry that I missed snow...well someone up there lent an ear and the day we were to fly a record amount fell in one day - so upon arrival the city was wearing a glorious sparkling mantle of white. Glorious!

Shopping for all my Dad's presents did not fall under the glorious category - three full days of dragging my Father and husband around the malls made for some less than relaxing moments - but finally everything was done (the funny bits were brought to you by the combination of my Dad who buys everyone the same dollar amounts (to the penny) and my husband who was being awkward about receiving any gifts and thus not helping to select anything over the 5 dollar amount - imagine trying to buy him 200$ worth of items at that rate!)

Darren (of "my husband" fame) and I finally got to have a visit with non-family members the day before we left - we went to the museum and then to a pub with my closest friend and her husband. It was interesting to hear from someone else how their Christmas went. She said that she has started to rethink the Christmas visit (she more than most has reason - two kids a giant dog and a six hour drive to get them home to become the shuttle bus service between grandparents houses for their kids) and I must admit that we are doing the same.

We really enjoyed the time we spent with my brother and his family. My nephew was the absolute antidote we all needed to the blues which might have overwhelmed us all this first Christmas without my mother. He is a lovely person and so happy and well rounded that it is pure joy to be around him. The most beautiful thing to see is how Cameron and Christine are with Lucas - when parenting is done right it is such a tender and beautiful thing and makes anyone watching proud to be around...even if the person watching is a bit biased as a sister and aunt! While Darren and Cameron were off getting curry for our dinner (my nephew needed onion badgie really badly apparently!) I had a great talk with my sister-in-law (Christine) and realised why I miss being closer to them - put the icing on the cake for my holiday! She is someone I really love.

So now that we are back in the UK - having slept about 22 of the last 48 I am feeling pretty content with my lot and happy that we had such a good time. Oh and the cat is really happy to see us - meowing to beat the band and cuddly like you can't imagine - I am almost up for going back to work tomorrow! Well maybe not! LOL!

Learning to drive: Episode II of adulthood

2005-11-22T09:26:00.000Z

So there you are in bed on a Saturday morning. It happens to be your birthday week (which like everything else has grown from a day to a week - SUPERSIZE ME!). Your canny husband announces that the suprise he has been planning for your birthday will be here to pick you up at nine o'clock sharp...it is a Mini Cooper (standard no less) and you are about to be whisked away for your first driving lesson.

Now about a year ago I toddled off to the DVLA (another acronym that is too long - so "where you get the licenses" will do) to sort out a learners permit. The fun thing that happens in the UK when you are a learner driver is that you have a big red L on your car as you drive around on your provisional license (that is driving only when accompanied by a fully licensed driver). The even better element of my lessons is that the car itself is like a big L - it is red with white checks down the side and has a black roof...so pretty much noticeable.

The Other Side of the Road:

You may ask yourself - why is it that this woman had a provisional license from a year ago and never had a lesson until her kind husband sorted them out for her? Well it might have something to do with the fact that I had dreams of driving into on- coming trafic (which I did on my mountain bike) at high speed. I guess luckily, the years of practice walking and looking left and then right and driving my bike on the "wrong" side of the road have in no way affected my ability to maintain the correct driving lane in the UK - luckily I have fear to sort me out there!

Having now had two lessons I am feeling rather pleased with myself...but still warn anyone visiting my region to keep off the sidewalks!

Money...Dealing well with it makes you an adult

2005-10-31T16:13:00.000Z

The above statement is something that I have repeating in my brain a lot these days. It stems from the fact that I would like to be my best self for my new husband.

Sadly, I am not very good at money management. It is not that I am totally irresponsible (well not all the time anyway) but I think it is in part because until I moved to the UK I never had it in any form that one would like to call abundant, regular or above the poverty level.

...Interestingly, before moving here I never had a job I liked, a good partner or peace of mind...so I guess I have acquired quite a bit since arriving here...

I am a bit of a binge organizer - or pretty much a binge everything (another area of my personal development which could use some growth/work) so I pay my bills in a rather "huge-chunk-at-a-go" fashion and then sort of sit around with my Spartan bank account going: "sh*t outta money again - wonder why!?". I am so off the hook that I have to keep printing out a calendar showing when I have my standing orders paying what - and now that we have a joint account, a e-savings joint account, to add to my existing current and e-savings current, and visa accounts my little head is spinning!

But none-the-less I have discovered that when you bank online you don't really feel that same juvenile thing of "I don't wanna pay my bills coz it's my money and why should they get it!" you did when you wrote a check or slapped down the cash. It is like going to the dentist and having not only the anesthetic work while having a root canal but also never having it wear off. So...Now all I need to do is to work on the other bit of my problem: binge payments!

All this is of course brought to you by the fact that I just got an increase and it made me wonder how much more money a month I would have to squander - and then when I added up the current amount of waste I blushed. Time for a detox! So now...To budgets and not bingeing!

This should be fun - another thing to add to my list of ever-growing OCD games: Compulsive Balance Checking...But I guess if I look at the balance enough I may begin to actually remember the numbers!!

Thanksgiving or "Action de Grace"

2005-10-09T09:41:00.000+01:00

The Campbell family of Montreal will be sitting down to turkey, trimmings and pumpkin pie today at my father's house. They will do the usual over-eating of the various servings: my brother will eat extra stuffing for me I hope, and the gravy boat will be scrapped clean by the end of the night.

Today will be the first major family oriented holiday celebrated since my mother died in June of this year. I can only imagine how strange that will be when the table is set and they all sit down to eat. Thanksgiving is not normally much of a holiday for reflection - in my parents' house it was always a time to celebrate the bounty of our lives. This year I can only imagine that it will be something a bit more.

This past year has been a watershed that I think it cannot be said to be an "annus horribilis". Too many wonderful things happened and too much joy was had in 2005 to completely render it rubbish. But it was a year of extremes. Collectively we managed to bury a mother/wife and two pets, become single again, move home, get married, sell a second car, and go on a holiday to Africa.

This year every human emotion was brought forward, like suits of clothing hanging on the rotating rack at a dry-cleaners; each tried on in quick succession and then switched for whatever came up next: it did not lend itself to graceful or elegant appearance. To say that we are a strong family of survivors is to understate the case in the greatest possible way.

For myself I feel quite isolated from the rest of my family. Things have moved on and I have had my share of joy and despair like the rest. Geography means, however, that I will not be sharing some of the integral mourning rites. I have not been able to walk into my parents' home and see the absence of my mother or see the fact that my father is getting on with getting on. I will not be sitting down with them today and see someone else sit in her chair at the table, or miss her participation in the circus that is cooking for a major holiday meal.

In my home province of Quebec the holiday is known as "Action de Grace" and until this year I never really thought about its meaning. Translated literally it means "the act of thanks giving". It has made me think that perhaps Thanksgiving should be an action because sometimes it is not accompanied by a heartfelt natural sentiment. Sometimes it takes a ritual to force you to physically stop and do thanks giving and remember all of the things that might otherwise become over-shadowed by the negative things we find so easy to bring to mind when summing up a year.

So this year I hope when we all sit down to our respective meals that we manage to act our thanksgiving and I hope that when we raise our glasses we can drink a toast to the natural sentiment reappearing in our hearts next year.

Buy everything mode...or Wedded-bliss cliche No. 2

2005-10-08T16:26:00.000+01:00

Today our surround sound system arrived...And amazingly this brought out the petulance in both my husband and I. Possibly this is because of the struggle with the usual lack of customer support/after sales that goes on in the British Isles...or it could also be the evil plot that is the installation instruction booklet, plus the tail end of a tummy bug each...whatever...we were not having a happy and joyful post consumption moment.

Now the opening statement in this missive should really be the big - "yea" of the event...because now that is working we are likely to sit in the lounge and say "oo" and "aw" about it! (Well once we are sure we have selected the correct remote! there are 3!!!).

It is strange that when you get married all you do is buy things...suddenly you are an adult and need stuff to go with your newly acquired adult status. So here we are in a flat that looked like the before shot in the "Flowers for Algernone" scenario (down to the bare light bulbs) and suddenly within a month there is actual decorating going on.

What is most intriguing in all of this is that it more my husband's initiative than mine - granted when I first arrived two years ago I was keen to start the feathering process...but after several discussions which ended (reasonably) in "we don't have enough money for that and a wedding" I let it drop. So when he was eager to get the new television I was left standing there like a tourist with my mouth hanging open! Even the suggestion of bookshelves from IKEA did not phase him (although the shopping experience was not all that a girl could want - think Navy SEALS, think "we leave no man behind", think specific mission with no side forays into other areas without intense discussion/negotiation).

So now, armed with our kick-ass/we-are-selling-tickets-to-our-livingroom home entertainment system, our bookcase, our new rug and a reallocated side table we have this properly decorated space...My goodness we even have the equipment for hanging the paintings and pictures received as wedding gifts. (Luckily I know where the nearest defibulator is at the local train station - I'm feeling woozy!)

So, sitting here typing on my newly purchased MAC keyboard, on the monitor accessed with the new KVM switch I find myself in an expansive mood and have that deeply satisfied feeling of someone who is in there castle and enjoying, unashamedly, their new stuff!

NOTE: All this is brought to you guilt-free by regular recycling, charitable donations, and many years of being denied fun by a student income level...Oh and flossing!

Today is brought to you by the letter "H" for "Happy"

2005-09-27T11:53:00.000+01:00

Above are a couple of pictures of my wedding day on June 18th of this year. My husband and I had already been married at the hospital on the 15th so that my Mother (who died the 16th) could witness it.

You may ask yourself about the title of today's blog. You may think that under the circumstances I shouldn't be able to think happy thoughts about my wedding without feeling sad ones about my Mum's death. You would be wrong.

I am deeply saddened by my mother's absence from my life. The poignancy of a day like my church wedding was made by her not being there. It underlined for me that she will not be there for many such occasions. It also underlined for me the fact that many similar occasions in my family's past had been tinged with sadness because of her cancer or her inability to participate fully in an event.

Mourning is a strange process. It is like oil on water, spreading itself over the surface of otherwise beautiful things.

After my mother died I had difficulty in separating out the beautiful things that had happened on the day that we married in the church. To celebrate the little victories and special moments of the day felt like picking birds out of an oil-spill in the ocean - beautiful and vital underneath but coated in the tar that is having a member of your family die after many years of suffering with cancer (21 years).

Initially, I couldn't even look at the wedding photographs. I struggled with the thank you notes because, in addition to the wedding gifts, I felt that I should somehow mention how kind each person had been about the death of my mother. My husband, quite rightly, pointed out that this was not appropriate. This was the first stage of separating the two events.

So today, when I was giving some images to a colleague who writes the in-house newsletter to go with an article announcing my marriage, was one of the first times I have looked at the pictures of our day.

Darren looks handsome, I actually think I look decent in a photograph (for once), and what I see when I look at the pictures is my loved ones all around me; laughing (as they should) and sharing in the joy of our celebration. I am able to remember that our wedding day was really perfect. Most of all I see us. Darren and I.

The honeymoon has finally begun!

So let me sing it: "Oh Happy Day!"

I don wanna work I just want to blog on net all day!

2005-09-23T14:12:00.000+01:00

Yes it is Friday and I am actually looking forward to meeting up with my husband tonight...I put on a nice skirt (as opposed to the usual grubbies of a Friday) and even have matching knickers and bra on!

Let's hope that we don't do the usual = go home watch Stargate Atlantis and have him say: "What?" to me when I look at him crossly because my definition of meeting up doesn't mean catching the train and watching him do Sodukos all the way to Sutton!

I feel much more romantic and excited about our relationship these days - I guess I am getting out of my funk that I was in over the summer after my Mum died. I am a newlywed! How cool! Started admiring my rings for the first time - so the level of soppy pathecticness is on the rise...and I am going to wallow in it!

Tunisian stamp in my passport

2005-09-20T02:33:00.000+01:00

Back one day from my sunny holiday in Tunisia. Yes I now have a stamp in Arabic from Africa on my passport...How cool is that for a girl from little-old Dorval?

Tunisia thoughts:

What an odd experience it is to be in a tourist area where it is almost as though you are segregated from the population of the country - no wonder the buses get dirty looks as you drive through the Tunisian neighborhoods.

The hotel, while not being 4 star by our standards, was an absolute palace compared to the neighborhoods we passed through in the airconditioned coach.

We went into the Medina (or walled city) and had a wander round. There were the usual tourist shops, selling all sorts of interesting ethnic and artisanal things, along with some very odd things (tortoises, cameleons, snakes, lizards) and in some of the sections (clearly geared towards Tunisians) they were selling chickens and roosters in cages, a little man - who obviously lived under his stall - was selling dilapidated shoes, and a tiny lady with crooked legs and teeth with loads of wrinkles was selling an odd assortment of cleaning cloths.

The weirdest thing that we saw was when we took a wrong turn into the red light district. In the Medina (to the left of the police station) you walk past two walls down streets past a row of houses where the women are sitting on the front stairs or where they are dancing partially naked (bottom-half) up the steps in doorways. At first I didn't realise what I was seeing - "strange...That Tunisian lady is sitting outside her house in a slip, oh...I get it...The lady with the loud music is dancing with just a very short t-shirt on...hmmm....this could be the red-light district of Sousse". To understand when you feel odd about this is that the streets of the Medina are often no wider than 2-3 feet - you get very up-close and personal.

What was really odd is that none of the western couples who had also taken a wrong turn let us know that the entire area was walled in except for the one entrance and so it was an old toothless gentleman sitting on a wall who told us we had to go back the way we came - embarrassed much? Never! It was sad to realise that they were working only with the locals and in likelihood making next to nothing for their trouble.

Tunisia the hotel/tourist experience:

Once you get past the fact that you will tip for virtually everything in this country and that you might actually manage never to meet a Tunisian beyond the hotel staff with very little effort you settle in to being pampered.

The service is lavish, old-fashioned and kind of confused (think Manuel a la Fawlty Towers). Those working in the hotels treat you very differently than the average citizen might. In fact those in the hotels will make sure that you will not come in contact with any of the citizens apart from them if at all possible. There is a no Tunisian in the hotels unless they are working un-written rule. If you are on the beach you will not get bothered by any men because the sleepy guy who puts out the mattresses for you is actually also a pretty mean security guard who shoos any of the vendors who approach you on the beach that they don't like the looks of.

The physical beauty of Tunisia is overwhelming. It is so different from what you are used to in Europe and North-America that you are not completely prepared for it. Flowers in abundance, all manner of palm-trees, the grounds of the hotel are full of as many varieties of plants as you can imagine. At first the architecture seems like a tourist cliche when you see the Arabic styles at the hotel and the sheer ostentation of the lobbies - but going into a wealthier nearby neighborhood of Hammam Sousse you see that it is common. Marble and tile are everywhere and on every surface. The pools at the hotel are set in the garden and really are breath-taking.

You will tan. No matter how much you try to avoid it. In one week I managed to get the equivalent of an entire summer in Canada. It is hot.

One week is not enough to do any real sight-seeing so my husband and I gave up and mostly stayed on the beach or by the pool with evenings at his Mum's fledgling bar in Montazar el Kantaoui called The Full English.

I have to admit that after all the emotions of the summer it was a real treat to play with my husband rather than do administrative things or be sad about anything - it was really like the honeymoon we should have had.

Don't buy carpets from strange men!
Fatima's hand is everywhere on everything and they will try to sell it to you (I got a keychain!).

While I have left Tunisia it has not left my tummy...hope that finishes soon I am tired from walking back and forth to the loo!!

Overall it made me relaxed and brown and appreciative of what I have personnally, spiritually and financially in my life.

Good outfits - how they can really make you perky

2005-09-08T09:00:00.000+01:00

I am wearing my favourite outfit today. Everytime I wear it I feel good. I know this is a shallow thing to say but I can't help it. Every day of the work week I wake up and think: "Should I wear my linen skirt with that really nice cardigan?" and I decide if I am feeling down enough that I want to be wearing it.

I will admit that sometimes I wear the outfit when it is a good day or just when I am tired and can't think of anything else - but I always feel much better for it...it is all easter jellybean colours and just makes me feel that much more sunny.

Now all I have to do to make my outfit bliss complete is paint my nails and toe-nails!

Blah...or a day off when no one else has one!

2005-09-05T09:41:00.000+01:00

Today is part of a long-weekend in Canada. It is a national holiday. Working for the Government of Canada means that I have the day off. This should be good n'est-ce pas? WRONG! Holidays are only good if you have plans or if you have other people to share them with.

Currently I am in the "Yippee...an extra day at home alone to obcess over all the things that you have done wrong in the last few weeks, clean (if the depression doesn't get you too down to move), get your finances in order or watch Trisha (which is rubbish version of Oprah in her 80s format)" stage of planning.

I am not saying that getting these things done won't benifit my life and make it less stressed... but mostly it is just a lonely day that I might otherwise have spent at work forgetting about the above and in anticipation of hanging out with my sweetheart.

I think I am still struggling to take in all the changes that have happened over the summer. I rarely get time off on my own and I guess the whole thing with my Mum dying this summer kind of rears its ugly head whenenver I have time to myself. It seems as though it has been go-go-go since then - somehow just not right. I didn't think the world would stop but I guess with the different passages and changes (some very beautiful - I married a wonderful man who I really love) I am still spinning.

I made a mistake and did not take the time needed when I could have to properly get myself sorted out and now there doesn't seem there is much to be done about it. I guess I will have to work on it quietly behind the scenes and take things slowly. Of late a lot of the things are getting on top of me. Things seem rushed and sort of just working out.

I guess what is going on is that I am so low right now I need a lot of reassurance - which must be driving everyone nuts. I mean I usually need quite a bit anyway (now there would be a good long post - why I am so insecure) but I think not having my Mum means that I feel a source of comfort and reassurance is gone... the irony of my sometimes complex relationship with her being a cause of some of the insecurity will not be lost on any of you who have heard me rant about it before. But I guess I feel a bit cut loose and that I am seeking reassurance all over to carry on right now - to prove to myself that it is not gone completely from the world.

So mostly I am feeling sorry for myself.

I also think that I am feeling the fall blues - I always loved going back to school, I really liked the sense of anticipation and renewal - like anything was possible and that a new page was being turned at the start of the school year. I especially loved getting a new jumper/sweater every year - so maybe that is what I need to shake myself out of my doldrums. That or I need to sign up for a course so that I feel like I am participating in some of the old autumn rituals that I love.

I am thinking kick-boxing - it will increase the endomorphins (happy juice) and reduce the stress and also make it so any new jumper I might buy will fit that much better! ;o)

In other good news I am actually getting somewhere with my exercise programme at the gym and on the bikes at the weekend. While this is not necessarily showing in terms of weight loss it is really revealing itself in my stamina - I am able to take on hills on the bike that I wouldn't have even tried before.

And to remind myself of something else pretty momentous in my life. I have four banners and 7 posters up in Trafalgar Square. This is pretty cool considering the fact that it is one of the biggest and most popular peices of real-estate in the world. So maybe what I need to do this month is bring myself down there whenever I feel bad and look at them and get reassurance from myself - remind myself that "here is tangable proof that you are creating things, existing, and prospering on your own two feet - working well at somethings and that the other stuff shouldn't be the focus!" <- The new tatoo I am getting!

Camping and yes....more love for the bikes!

2005-09-01T12:55:00.000+01:00

We went on our camping trip last weekend and between the mounds of laundry and kit that need putting away and the fact that they are actually insisting that I do some work at work - well you can guess why Thursday is the day of updates!

Darren and I discovered a whole new level of silliness/intimacy together on our trip - yes farting in the tent can bring you closer!

The campsite was kind of different to what I am used to - being from big old NA (North America) I am used to huge open spaces ::::hum "Don't Fence Me In" along with me now!::::: and that is something you won't get at a European campsite. That being said you won't get wild ponies or cattle roaming in groups (3-4) on your site in NA so I guess we're even.

We had planned on getting some serious biking in - and were not dissappointed...the weather cooperated and we had 10 hours in two days of very good biking. The only mistake we made was deciding that we could bring groceries (including 9 large cans of lager)...hmmm why would my husbands back ache with that in the rucksack!?!

At one point we were feeling somewhat intimidated by the highly equiped lot surrouding us then two VERY LARGE individuals arrived in a tiny little car and took out a tiny little tent (literally big enough to put a beach towel in) so we felt that in fact ours was truly palatial! We still could have done with a dish towel though...so size doesn't matter but stuff does!!!

I got a sunburn on my head that is in the shape of my helmet...I look silly!

My bike is soo cool...am getting to the point where I don't have to be on the brakes as I wiz down hills! It is really fun to go as fast as cars. They say you don't forget how to ride a bike...but you do get more cautious. I'll bet everyone remembers the terrible wrecks that we would all get into on our bikes (no helmets it was the 70s/80s)...in the meantime you grew up and realised that you need all of your limbs to work and that you probably shouldn't be using your skull as a helmet...no matter how thick your partner tells you it is when you fight!

Married life...And mountain bikes

2005-08-22T09:08:00.000+01:00

I love my husband very much. He is so full of energy it is nearly impossible not to catch his enthusiasm. We go biking every weekend now - and I don't mean a nice quiet little peddle down the country lane...I mean far afield and over hill and dale! I really enjoy it a lot - all except the hills.

This past weekend we were in one of the royal parks in the Greater London (http://www.royalparks.gov.uk/parks/Richmond_park/) area. We took our bikes on the train and got off at Wimbledon - biked through the Commons (often in what seemed like a circle - but I am just the wife here) and eventually into Richmond Park. This is a mind-bogglingly big park in the middle of the city. It used to be a royal hunting grounds and still has roe deer (I saw them) roaming around, along with all sorts of other types of birds and beasts. There are fabulous bridle paths where people go riding - lots of horses were to be seen as it was a sunny day - and of course loads of bike trails. The only thing that is a bit annoying about the park is that it is well utilized - which is a criticism that is on the selfish side...I would have really enjoyed having more space to ride and be on our own a bit - but from a civic side it is glorious to see families having picnics and playing cricket, driving their bikes, runners doing marathon loops around the park and people sitting by the ponds (plus they do a mean bacon bap there - brown sauce please).

Hills in Richmond Park are pretty spectacular - there were several that could have been grounds for divorce/annulment - but luckily we made it through - and some of them definitely had the "weeee!" factor when you were whizzing down after slogging up! All in all a good day out!

We are off to the New Forest (yeah 1200s are "new" here): another royal hunting ground for the long weekend here. We are going car camping and are taking our bikes to get out onto some of the many paths in the park. I haven't been camping in ages and am looking forward to it - even though they are forecasting rain the entire time. I am going to buy some extra socks this week and rain gear to cut the whining to a minimum - another way of preventing divorce/annulment! (clever eh?)

Steak and kidney pie and other English things I have done of late

2005-08-20T11:51:00.000+01:00

Friday, craving to get away from the world of estrogen that are my work friends and rang up one of my favourite blokes at work and asked if he was off to the pub at lunch - not dissappointed - he said sure enough he and another bloke from work were off to The Guinea on Berkley Square for a pie and a pint at noon if I fancied coming.

At The Guinea: real old fashioned standing-room only affair. The size of a North American fridge with REAL original Punch pictures hanging on the wall. Got our pies (arriving at noon got us the last three - good sign of quality of pies). Now I am not one who would normally say that kidney is something one should eat - but reserved judgement and have to say I enjoyed it. Great joking about blokey things (mooning and our experiences of it, Monty Python, Lennie Henry) all sorts of fun was had by all. 1 and a half hours later (and 2 pints of cider) wandered into work feeling fine - if a little sleepy!

so now realise why I am feeling house-proud and have the urge to sing "Land of Hope and Glory" at the top of my lungs! Well not so house proud that I will get the hoover going...but you get the idea!

Rubbish...Or how I haven't posted yet

2005-08-16T16:44:00.000+01:00

Well have survived the summer in London...Yes bombings...Worse: weather... When you come back from Canada and people act like you been to a tropical clime because you have some colour (ie. You do not appear to have come from beneath a rock or from the lightless depths of the ocean) you know you are dealing with something entirely different.

I got married this summer...and was told immediately afterwards by a helpful colleague..."Don't worry you will only fight for the first year and then it gets better"...And so to prophesy I address my ire! It is amazing, actually how as you are getting to know one another and you realise that it is expensive now to break up - how relaxed you get about bad moods, bitching and looking as rough as a badger's *rse in front of your partner! But with all the stuff that went on around the time we got married and how my husband stepped up to the plate (my mother died 16 hours after we had a special service for her to witness at the hospital) it seems to me that I have chosen well...no matter how much his hanging clothing on the top of the door like we are living in a slum gets on my t*ts!

It is interesting that part of my mourning is to walk around feeling hopelessly grumpy a lot of the time. I would appreciate a bit of crying and moaning instead...but this "being strong" stuff is very tiring...Also what is with all the peeing...Part of my mourning seems to be getting up 2 - 4 times a night for a waz! I mean by morning I am exhausted and is it any wonder that I am fit to kill when woken up for the morning ritual of "why did you move my stuff?"

To balance out the previous kvetching I will now discuss our wedding-present-money-mountain-bikes:

First a poem:

Oh beautiful bike
why do you mock me so
I thought I was a jock
but gym-fit and up hill both ways
soon gave me saddle sores
pity me at the coming weekend
make it easy and downhill all the way!

So far it has been up and down and up and up on our bikes. We live near the racecourse at Epsom so we go biking along the bridle paths there....it is up both ways and this is not just for the effect of this telling....The only part of Epsom Downs that is down is the race course. Mud...Horse poop and lots and lots of bramblely stuff...Big grin! Loving it...And mostly I don't winge so my husband is enjoying it too...Plus...The dough-like bit on my back known as my ass is now doing what dough should...And is rising! No sh*t...It is now no longer a uni-thigh rising directly up from my leg!