Blimey time flies

As I didn't think it would over two years since I updated this. I guess the excitement of facebook and the like makes all this seem a bit old hat. Maybe we;ll go techno-retro this year and it will be come fashionable to type long paragraphs and not use textism. I can but dream.

Greatness All Around

Living in Dagenham probably doesn't give me much reason to frequently start sentences with "Well of course Dagenham has......" although in recent weeks I have been able to complete that sentence with both "a football league team for next season" and "a really good and easy to use recyling policy".

However how about this for a corker "Well of course Dagenham has one of only 4 Great Trees of London in east london (and I know that I'm actually in Essex - let me save that rant for another day).

Don't believe me? Well The Valence Park Holm Oak is an official Great Tree of London . It has a plaque and everything (photo to follow if I can stalk my way around the Valence Moat Anglers). I quite like the idea that not only do I live near a Moat but there is a Great Tree as well. I wonder how many people who trudge through Valence Park actually notice the rather dark and somewhat massive tree in the corner by the old house and near the duck pond. Admittedly it is usually guarded by some evil Muscovy Duck so perhaps less people get to know that way-hay they are walking by A Great Tree.

It would be a good idea if the council also mentioned it somewhere on their website.....mmm, there's an idea.

Regular Maintenance

Well, I thought I better give this a dust off seeing as it is, oh flaming pigs, nearly a year since I last wrote anything. Bugger.

So West Ham didn't win the FA Cup last year - but the final was great. This year the success belongs to Dagenham & Redbridge who got promotion to the league. Hurrah for them - I have a feeling that they won't be suffering the same plumenting of form as the Hammers. Neither will they be signing up dodgy Argentinians.....

Hey ho blog resurrected will keep it regular from now on.

Unexpected Pleasures

As if the excitement that was a place in the FA Cup Semi Finals wasn't enough - there was more to the visit to Villa Park than just thinking that I'd have to be declared insane before trying the dogburgers on offer from the standard footie-identikit vendors scattered around.

Being a travelling footie fan meant that due to the absence of any Travel Jonahs on the way up to Villa, this happy hammer had around 4 hours to kill before turnstyles opened and the "greatest cup competition in the world" waddled into life - ahem, that flaming great that our match was on naffing Sky and not the beeb... So with the twin missions of finding something to do for a few hours and the growing need for a pee, the serendipitious find that is Aston Hall was truly welcome.

This is a free, let me repeat free, local stately home occupied by the Holte family (Holte End linkage) and also by James Watt Jnr, son of the engineer. The current Villa Ground is part of the fishponds and cesspools area from the great house and is worth a visit in it's own right. And not just because I needed a "comfort break" - although the guide had clocked that the average woman clad in team scarf and a sightly manic look in her eyes might welcome the update on facilities.

It's fantastic! Any fans wanting to kill time pre match v Villa, head up the Trinity Road and just for once, emphasise with life in a different era. The house is one of the Community Funded museums of Birmingham and is less nobby then the National Trust properties I've visited, with the trustees actually enthusiastic about what they are showing you and happy to point out small details. OK, it's not everyone's cup of tea (did I mention that coffee is 90p a cup and served in a proper mug) but for an unexpected find on a potentially grim afternoon, it's brill. Go see it, hunt out the remanents of the giant turtle, see if you can identify the bed ark and restain your companion from pinging an anicent fishbowl marked "Do Not Touch"

If you are into Jacobean architecture and lifestyle, this is a real find - and if you aren't, then the guides are used to fans wandering in with a rather fixed look in their eyes after a long coach journey.

And the football? We won. Cardiff here we come, recommendations for cultural gems welcomed.

Tree Hugging

My brother's birthday - always a dilemma. The dilemma being that as I have very little to do with him, it's really hard to buy him anything. I had shied away from the classic fall back for blokes of socks on two grounds; it was too much of a cop out and also, well I don't know what size feet he's got. This decision was a baaad one as upon discussions with the Oracle, footcoverings had been a required article. Bugger.

The perfect gift presented itself to me in the form of a twisted willow tree. I'd be leaping around like a frog in a sock if I was given one. Who wouldn't be thrilled to the gills with a twisty tree heralding in spring? I think I found the answer to that.

Still, there are a lot of advantages to buying a tree (well grafted sapling to be precise).

You don't have to wrap it - well I guess a half hearted attempt could have been made to put a bow on it.

It's really hard to not use it - afterall all you have to do is plant it and it's not like you can just wheel out on high days and holidays in the unlikely event of a visit by the giver (in my case it would probably have turned to fossil fuel before I was likely to be dropping in)

It's a constant reminder of the kind person who gave it to you......

It can't be passed on to someone else as a cheapskate way of funding another present

There is endless fun involved in getting into a car as twisty it may be, flexible and foldable it isn't. Much hilarity can be sourced from watching someone wrestle with Nature's Gift in an attempt to get into a car that has been boxed in all sides. Although there is a slight trade off here in that much fun can be sourced by walking blithely around with said article not realising just how close you are getting to "treeing" someone.

And of the course the best bit is when someone opens the door and you can thrust a tree at them and say "it's a tree, for a present" and beam like a very contented gloworm.

Happy Birthday!

Not Everything Is Black & White

Whether it is the advent of Spring (you know, that bit of the year that has brilliant sunshine, azure skies, vibrant bulbs and oh yes, freezing temperatures and excessive ice on the car windscreen) or something more personal, I've been seeing colour everywhere.

My mind at the best of times (and currently this isn't a best of times) tends to ramble off in it's own world, occasionally remember to return to sender but not usually before some blinding insight of a surreal nature has been uttered at a totally inappropriate time. But one thing that I ususally could count on was that it would see things mainly in grey with a flash of sepia shoudl I be feeling cheerful but never vibrant colours. Therefore I feel as though I am starring in a particularly arty film where the colours have deeper meaning and are therefore important and worthy of being noticed. I am now drawn to colours like some moth to a lava-lamp. Recently focussing in on a trio of Renault yellow articles whilst just glancing out of a window was a good example, the yellow of a car (renault), a motorbike and a jogger seizing my attention as though the key to curing the common cold could be gleaned from them if I just looked hard enough.

I'm finding it all fascinating and am convinced that I may have started to finally nail depression that has greyed out my life for years. My favourties on flickr were a bit of a clue but it's only when I saw them all together the colour swatches flew before me. For once, rose-tinted specs are a good thing.

Colour - it's great.

It's The Little Things

It actually doesn't take much to make me laugh since I have the ability to find some small bizarre thing funny most days - it goes along with the ability to walk into large objects, trip over my own feet and generally be a bit of a loop on reality.

Yesterday's highlight was courtesy of the Central Line Train Driver - he obviously decided that corporate speak and annoucements wasn't for him and as we lurched up to Bank and awaited the standard "Mind The Gap" annoucement, things changed. "Please be aware of the space between the platform and the train - it's wide in places" Good for you mate. But it got better with the addition of "well, that's what you get if you tunnel behind the vaults of the Bank of England" Those of us not wearing earphones or engaged in banal and inane (oh and loud) conversations about the merits of boots, exchanged a brief smirk of enjoyment before disappearing beneath papers like commuting hermit crabs. Thank you Non-Conformist Train Driver - you made my Wednesday.

Today's frivolity has come in the form of work. Whilst writing down short codes for files, I had the bizarre experience of receiving a Yoda-like message based on the abbreviations I was working with. Now I know the secret of life, it's thus:

NOR NAG NOT

Insightfulness from work - whatever next.

Remembering to be Happy

Now that the gloom appears to have drifted off, I now have that clarity that I always forget will follow a period of glumps.
I have as much or little control over my own life as a I need and although changes may be uncomfortable (a bit breaking in a new pair of boots), I'm actually finding out new things about myself as a result of having to face up to the maxim of "do what you always do, get what you always get".

I've learnt, well learning, how to have appropriate panicks/reactions to things as opposed to the "one-size fits all" type reaction I usually wheel out - which can vary from "the world is ending" to "oh well hey ho" with there not being much inbetween. I feel like I have the emotional range of a sugar thermometer - it's either nothing interesting happening or else it's a reaction worthy of "stand clear to prevent scalding" I'll be the first to admit that I do get concerned at the intensity/apathy conundrum and occasionally wish that I could just get a little bit pissed off or a little bit unconcerned as opposed to lurching between extremes. I'd also quite like to know which reaction it's going to be - I sometimes do get a bit fed up of my body springing surprises on me.

I have a real struggle with self-worth, any slight dent to my confidence (bad day at work, taking forever to park, being too timid to move out into another lane when driving and then getting stuck behind some slow, wide, swervey vehicle) and it doesn't take much for me to start the uselessness rosary. Ie that because I'm me, I'm useless. It took a mental kick to make me realise that short of causing a 20 mile tailback by refusing to overtake a Smart Care I'm actually not important enough in the grand scheme of things to matter greatly so therefore if I fail to attach a file in an email, leave the wrong date on a header or even totally forget to do a report or take 3 mins rather than 30 seconds to pass a slow-beast IT DOESN'T MATTER TO ANYONE. And I need to get over it.

See, post slump clarity - it's more mind boggling than being a sad-sack.

Just Reflecting on It All

Sometimes all the things that I work hard on ignoring force themselves to the front of my mind and demand attention like a deranged fledging in the nest. Weird thoughts open their poisonous throats and spew forth some sort of nonsense that then lodges in my brain.

My niece's new baby for example. Thrilled that she's had it, somewhat guilty as I initially felt that she would be making a mistake having a baby at 19 and then hearing the trauma she went through in delivery (blood transfusions, plummenting blood pressure, emergency action to save her life, a chance the baby would also die) and I can't help thinking I came close to losing someone I love. My sister admits she thought she was going to see her daughter die in front of her - how the hell can that feel? Admittedly my niece is fine as is her son and hopefully they should be going home soon and will be able to settle down to life as a new family but my sister is still in shock about how close she came to losing her own child. All of this doesn't make me want to be a parent - I'll continue to fulfill the selfish career woman fantasy for people.

And then there's the parents. I've spending more time with my parents recently (thanks to prolonged dental work, who says that there isn't a silver lining to everything, shame it was the glint of a filling in this case) and each time I'm back at home, I feel more and more close to them, but this is underpinned with a horrible feeling that I'm going to lose them soon, just when I'm getting back in touch with them.

The mere act of being told to have a lie down on a bed for an hour because I felt weary from the week was immensely powerful. I don't often have the chance to feel totally relaxed, safe and unstressed at the moment so knowing that Mum & Dad were downstairs and wouldn't let me nod off for too long (or in otherwords oversleep and be late for football) was so reassuring. It's a long time since I let anyone have the opportunity to "take care of me" and it's a weird feeling as I would usually have felt out of control, weak and useless with someone else looking after me but I didn't. I just felt loved.

Fairly soon I'm going to really need their support and the manic fledging in my brain is cheeping that they won't give it, that I'm going to hurt them by what's going to happen and worse of all, that they will think badly of me. Can I request an emotional cuckoo to kick these monsters out of my mind.

Homelife is of course at the root of all of this. Due to how things have got at home, I'm in effect living downstairs, with my clothes in boxes, sleeping on a futon and being careful not to be in the same room as the other one if at all possible. The times when we are in each others space are painful to put up with and I can't stand knowing that I haven't got my freedom by the mere fact that I know someone is upstairs.

Communication is limited to usually asking about who wants the internet cable (we may have separately irons & ironing boards now but there is still only my broadband to share) and we are now at the very grown up stage of just about managing to share washing powder but nothing else. All those things that were awkward culinary differences between us (skimmed milk v full fat, own label v premium brand anything, white bread v granary etc) now are no longer problems seeing as we do our own shopping and if there is no milk for tea then it's tough. No sharing, no borrowing, no contact.

The freezer is sad study in different outlooks. There are mysterious frozen tupperware boxes of homemade veggie somethings in one shelf and then there are the "sad bastard meals-for-one" lower down. Liver and Bacon for One, Chicken & Chips, Ready Made Gravy cubes (!!!), Mini Roasts etc. I didn't realise that viewing a stash of ready meals would actually upset me but it does. What have I done to this person's life - and what am I going to continue to do. It doesn't make me feel good on one level knowing that I'm about to kick another level of support away but then that degree of support should never have been needed and had a cost to me. But the mad fledging pecks away at the strong side of me, determined to unearth the pathetic bit of me that used to be all anyone could see.

All this just swirls around my head, diluting the good things that also happened: My niece is well(ish) and has a stable relationship into which her baby is born and her mum absolutely loves her and is close to her. When I was helping Dad email me the photos of the baby to me, I showed him the photos on Flickr which he loved, even summonsing Mum to view the other bits and pieces (this is an honour indeed). Home - it will have an end, and that is in my control, this is just part of the process that I'm having to go through due to being a coward for so long. And there are a myriad of other good things that I can't even start to write about.

Bad things, Good things - it's all things.

Relative Relations

Yippo - my great nephew has arrived. 8lbs, same length as his mum when she was born (apparently) and nameless.

The newly crowned Grandmother (ha - how old does that make my sister sound) candidly described the birth as "a cross between that scene from Alien and a Holby City Special". I'm taking it that means copious amounts of blood, drama and near-death. This was all later confirmed as correct.

The joy of the camera phone meant that I got a snap of the boglin yesterday afternoon and he looks, well, he looks pretty unwrinkled and therefore human. Result!

Welcome to the world boglin - we'll look out for you.

Special Delivery

Greatness is about to be thrust upon me.

Unfortunately it is not the case that I'm being recognised for the sterling work I do in baleing out an under resourced job by stupidly, sorry selflessly, working unpaid OT and not taking leave but rather due to the fact that even as I type, I could be in the throes of becoming a Great Aunt.....

....at the age of 35!

My niece is merrily spawning meaning that the next generation is establishing itself. My sister is only marginally freaked out about becoming a gran - "it can learn to call me by my proper name" was her contribution to the great "grannie, gran, grana or nana" conversation. I only stopped baying like a hyena once it dawned on me that I was likely to end up as "gak" (great aunty kathy) hmmmm.

So fingers and everything else crossed, although maybe not if you're in labour - this time tomorrow I'll have another reason to feel contented by the fact that other people are admirably doing their bit for the population crisis so I don't have to.