Sunday, August 23, 2009

You Can't Start a Fire without a Spark

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a woman approaching forty with no offspring hanging of her shirt tails or bank balance occasionally falls in need with some inappropriate object of desire and thus commits themselves to many years of joy, financial ruin and advancing critters of the night by buying a shack.

Well, I haven't bought a shack - WE have (or at least are currently awaiting the bank giving us the cash...) to purchase a woodland shack. They call it a chalet on the details - they lie. It's a wooden hut with bedrooms and the occasional running water. There are holes in the cladding and the insulation is shot. One bedroom is a fetching mix of lime and dark greens. And for 6 weeks of the year (high summer), it's off-limits for me thanks to my screwed immune system.
But it's beautiful. It's in an ancient woodland near the banks of the Tyne. You have to drive through a corn field to get to the car park. You think you're in gnome-y, twee hell as this is surrounded by (admittedly very pretty) chalets that are populated with the old folk who don't retire to Spain. Cuprinol skin is popular. So you park, and then you see a small path twisting off into the trees. Following it you step into the heart of the wood, and then you step onto the veranda and....

It's positively beautiful. There is a terraced open space, coolly shaded by deciduous trees, through which a small rivulet of water has been trained to create a small pond area that teams with tiny silver fish. If there is a heaven, I'm actually able to buy it....(well, lease it seven months a year!).

So we gave in, offered, offered again and are now undergoing security checks to ensure we're not going to go Blair Witch through the trees in the near future.

It's a step. Step one of us changing the way our lives work (and in P's case, don't). Step two will be to downsize Albatross (our house. The name is self explanatory: if not go read the Coleridge poem).

I can't afford to bugger off to Rio or Tuscany to write my magnum opus. But I can bugger off to our shack in the woods, with it's open fireplace and seclusion. I can sit dangling my feet over the veranda and watch my silver fish play. I will be able to lie under the canopy of trees and stars and look to an uncertain future with a smile.

It's a step. A very significant step. And I for one am so very glad that for once in my life prudence and common sense didn't hold me back from having something of very little practical value but of immense beauty.

GD: listening to Depeche Mode's Playing the Angel; very snotty and hungover (only myself to blame!); eating cake. Too much cake!

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Teaser Tuesday: Book Related

"Grab Your current read. Let the pages fall open on a random page. Share two teaser sentances from that page. Don't forget to name the book!"

Well, why not? After all, I am on a steady diet of trash at the moment, why not share! So we'll begin with Laurell K Hamilton's Narcissus in Chains, one of my current bedside 'classics'. Purchased from my local library's slush pile, this cost me a whole 10p. It's number ten in the Anita Blake Vampire Hunter novels, when we've gone from Anita being a straightforward zombie raiser and vampire killer to full on vampire / werewolf slut. Some parts are making blush. Really blush.

Selection One, for mass consumption (page 131):

He had a perfect imprint of my teeth in the right side of his neck. The
wound was still seeping blood, so the circle of toothmarks was filled with

So, our heroine was playing rough with little Micah, was she? Now that wasn't all she got up to with him, particularly in the shower...

Selection Two (page 303):

I was reminded of the scene from the Wizard of Oz where Dorothy puts oil on the
Tin Man's jaw after he'd been rusted
Hmmmm...I haven't got that far so have no idea what it refers to. But these books make Anne Rich's Vampire Chronicles look tame. Lestat is a puppy in comparison with these nymphos. Good rollicking fun, and no doubt not the last LKH book I ever read.

GD: is tweaking her website for inspiration (hence new blog colours), listening to Turin Brakes, coming back to life

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

One day...

One day I'll accomplish everything that's in my head to achieve. One day. But hey - why do now what I can delay until tomorrow, next week, the end of next year? Procrastination, my poison prince, your knife cuts deep. Or is it inertia? I've muttered about this less than savory character trait before. At the risk of sounding boring I suspect it's because it's one of my biggest flaws (along with the vengeance / lack of forgiveness thing, obviously!).

My mother reckons I'm too laid back. I've been inclined to disagree with her. If I'm honest, mainly because it's HER opinion. From others I may have considered it a bit too close to the truth, but from Hyperactive Harridan I've never really given it much credence. Perhaps I should: even though I feel like I boil away under the skin, I'm not hugely proactive about dealing with the things that I should. I have no real drive - ambitions are fine, but they remain intangible when in fact, with a bit of a push and hard work they're probably more achievable than I think or assume.

I think shyness holds me back considerably, coupled with deep rooted fear that I'm just not good enough. I'm trying to overcome this by joining new groups and challenging myself to participate and some of it's working. Its just that there's so much going on outside of ambition at the moment I'm not sure what to choose. My personal relationships exhaust me to the point of illness - do I cauterize the wound and cut the dead flesh free?

I have mental goals but they don't drive me. I'm all ad-hoc girl. I expect my *brilliance* to shine through with the smallest snippet of effort. It won't (and I'm not brilliant). I watched my father holding court from his bed like a fuhrer yesterday, looking for mischief and expecting to be treat like the god he thinks he is - where did he get that confidence from? Why don't I have it? Then I watch him treating people with a lack of basic respect and think 'OK, that's why we differ so much....'. But you can be over deferential.

So what do I do? I'll set some goals, here now, in my next post perhaps. I expect failure at the very most. I'm stuck in stasis and I'm afraid I'll be moored here for ever.

I'm very sad today.

GD: Mopey sod; skint and about to be skinter thanks to Suicide Boy; no ambition; a spark that's fading; thinking that 'What kind of Fool' by all About Eve sums it all up perfectly.

Tuesday, August 04, 2009

When life gives you a lemon, jump ship

Nuff said. I never meant to break, but if you will not take any responsibilty for yourself why should I?