I will not blog, I will not blog, I will not blog

Oh OK, just a lil one.

I'm being quite good with working, like I stayed in the library till 830 pm today! But I am going rather slowly and I didn't get much reading done... more thinking and doodling and trying to form ideas amidst the clouds. I'm telling myself it's an integral part of the process.

Plus it's all I can do. I have a meeting tomorrow at 10am and it is yet to be shown whether all I can do is enough... so call me naïve but I'm taking the loaves and fishes approach. I am almost certain that I can't get this degree. I mean, I started a new course today (everyone else started Monday but I sorta forgot) and I didn't have a clue about any of the prerequisites. Likewise I went into Phil of Maths with no idea of what logic actually is (I don't mean by regular definitions, though that too) and this morning I suddenly found myself trying to split the "hypøplane"...?! Whatever. My point is, this is going to be a hard crowd to impress. My profs may not be 5,000 hungry Jewish men plus women and kids but they are pretty expectatious.

So I figure that I will simply have to not be good enough. 'Tis all. I'll do my small piece in faith and let God multiply it up to be something amazing.

The slightly concerning thing is that if it turns out God doesn't want to give me a degree based upon my faith in Him, I will have to be OK with that. Though I don't suppose He will let me take more testing than I can bear it would still be nice to do well. So I'm holding out for Zephaniah 3. "Honour and praise where I was put to shame". I know I can't just claim any passage in the bible for my own at a given moment but wouldn't it be cool if it was part of the purposes that God is working out now... Actually, maybe I can claim it as a promise?! Flag that!

Either way, I don't think there is anything else I can actually do. So as I relocate from Chaplaincy to Library to Starbs every few hours, in order that I don't get bored, let's hope my teeny tiny offer mixed in with all the sidetracking will be worth something.

Oh and I got a letter through from ENT - first appointment on the 10th Feb! Funtimes. Maybe I will be "singing and shouting aloud" sooner than I though... if He does manage to first "quite me with His love" :o)

This is going to be a Christmas to remember

I am so excited about Christmas. Starbucks menu started weeks ago and the first taste I had of Christmas cake was magical. Now I feel like I am ready to start my own personal official Christmas season…

For this is my first real Christmas. The first one when I can know the joy of my dear Saviour’s birth – ‘cause now He is that. Where a nativity scene makes me go actually wow and I don’t think about consumerism or any of that crap but truly have a different priority (despite the Starbuck’s reference!). I’m going to have a Christmas that is all about what it’s supposed to be…

Except, really there isn’t a biblical model for Christmas is there? No-one from the New Testament went around on the 31st December (or any other date) saying let’s keep Christmas about the important things. There is no guidance on how to be a Christian at Christmas and, especially given the fact that it was first based upon a pagan holiday, one might suggest the best way to be is to take down the tree and carry on as normal. Or at least break with the world traditions and any habits that aren’t strictly “kosher”.

But I like the tree. And I love buying presents for people (get me I’m already four up and have a whole month to go! That is organisation…). Jingle Bells do make me rock and I have been listening to Christmas music for a while now with no shame whatsoever. Sparkly lights and port by the fire, could you want for more? Can’t wait for the open air ice rink so I can get out my skates from Geneva and I LOVE a good Christmas classic on the telly. The way I see it there is no set formula for Christmas cheer and I am not giving up my crackers and baubles on a whim.

I am going to be intentional though. Starting today it is Christmas season and I want to spread joy and good cheer too all mankind. Wishing peace, showing love, delighting in the good things of life. Really this is just all things that being a Christian is kinda about and I don’t want to limit it to seasonality so I’m going to kick start it now but the plan is that the attitude of Christmas remains around a long time after the tree comes down.

Talking of which, it goes up today (and is Hot Pink!). ‘Tis the first year in my own home and I am excited to be starting my own traditions… which include decorations going up a month before to enjoy the season all the longer and also because it will be my half birthday every year. That’s right, 6 months since the B and going strong!

There are some really wonderful ideals for Christmas that do go beyond the cheesy superficial overcommercialised notions. But honestly, they aren’t just great ideas every now and then are they? In the same way dog is for life not just for Christmas I don’t really get why we would limit hope, peace, good will, love, generosity, joy, celebration and (maybe) talking about Jesus to once a year. The one thing I would say is perhaps we need to add in to the mix self-control…

Bring on Christmas with all your manmade glitz and idealism. Man gets a lot of things right too and it can be all too easy to focus on the bad things. Made in the image of our creator I reckon this is the season to share these good things and I don’t want to slag off something which values loads of good things too. It is a shame “They” have taken the Christ out of Christmas and that people call in the “winter holidays” instead but that does not mean we can’t enjoy being people together and sharing the love of our kindredness.

Tee Hee

Was talking to aforementioned friend about why I have given up caffeine and alcohol (two weeks ago today...!).

[Suppose I had better digress and 'briefly' mention my reasoning. I am very sensitive to stimulants and definitely don't need the extra energy and I also found myself too often indulging in a kick that was, frankly, akin to getting a high. It can be a bit much and 'Kat(i)e on caffeine' is an official state that people are aware of and comment on! I already stopped drinking it before church. This happened 'cause at my B I abstained from my en-route Starbucks (ooooh, I made a comment about coffee in church on another blog, talk about easy post formation... that shall follow at some point) as I didn't want to be jumped up and not able to pay attention to God. Then I realised that I probably ought not be chemically charged at any church service since He doesn't just want our attention at special occasions. Then (finally) it occurred to me that God doesn't just talk to us at church! That coupled with my unhealthy attitude to caffeine highs made it wise for me as an individual to cut it for a while/indefinitely. Alcohol was when I realised that while I did not drink worrying amounts I did see it as a good stress/upset related device and, well, that is not at all cool. Also, I can't be as in-tune with God after a glass of wine either (or rather if I am it is far less validatable!).]

Anyway. We were talking about how there is nothing wrong with these things but that they are only OK in the right amounts and contexts. I said that otherwise it was Inappropriate Consumption... except it came out as Inappropriate Consummation - which is also something to avoid but far less relevant!

Tee Hee ;-D

The Start of a New Chapter

I wish travelling wasn't so damn stimulating. How am I supposed to sum up my perceptions of Dublin the 20 mins I have to kill before boarding a bus that will take me to a plane that will set me on my pathway to Eastern Europe?

Overall perception on most recent leg of journey? This is the first time I have "travelled" with other people. I have visted with them, stayed with them, crashed with them, lived with them, gone on holiday with my family... but I have never been a traveller in company. I like it. Makes for a different dynamic. It helps that the people I came with were pretty damn cool and very easy going but I must say I am relieved to see the back of them!

Jokes. It has been unreal and I would do it again in a shot. What I really mean is that I am ready to be alone, do some exploring and really fulfill my pretentious side by sitting in cafes writing poetry, journalling and generally spending all my time in internal thoughts. Five days of that should be enough but I do think I am rather overdue: it may have been about 8 months since I last found the time and I could be described as somewhat frazzled.

I do like Ireland. I don't love it but I acknowledge that I am yet to see the really defining features (Guinness factory and fighting aside) and feel like a horse drawn caravan is the real way to do this country. It is a little hard to say, given that I have not been in England of late aside from a 19 hour stop over on Tursday (working on the accent) but I think it may be kinda similar. I could be wrong but it's been kinda cool to feel like I am introducing my North American buddies to my culture - exchanging conglomerate coffee for karaoke (yes it's Japanese but we definitely have our own take on it; more to follow...).

The one mistake I have made is letting other people (namely Nathan) do all the navigating while I sat back into Darryl mode, following and taking pictures (unfortunately my pics are not yet up to Darryl standard but I can pretend). Now I am readjusting by going to the airport 45 minutes after the boys (Robyn and Andrea left this morning and Emma is sticking around with her family) to remind myself how to do this alone. Afterall, I can't leave Dublin only being able to find the Starbucks can I?

The next chapter begins and I am looking forward to it. Budapest watch out...

Coffee and Sacraments

It's been a whole day since I blogged. You think you've suffered, imagine what it's like in my head with all the latest ideas swimming about. Think about it, if I can publish 7 posts over 2 days when things are quiet imagine how much I have to write about when I've been too busy to blog?

So, what will this one be about then? I think I shall write about today now and then maybe do yesterday this evening, if that makes sense. It’s not that I think I have to give a detailed account of my whole life on here (well, it would be ideal obviously but a little over reaching me thinks) and indeed I am still behind when it comes to cool stories from two weekends ago. It's just I’ve just had lots of fabulously cool things happen and 'profound' thoughts crop up that I want to share.

First off, I am in Starbucks writing this. And it is the one by the hairdressers (Rive); AKA the one with the mean lady. I arranged to meet Robyn here after music practise and the risk factor didn’t occur to me until I was in the queue and saw her behind the counter. It was definitely her and short of upping stakes and heading to the other side of the river (which wasn’t really an option) I was going to have to ask her for my coffee *expresses look of trepidation*. So, I decided to pray. Just a quick bless her and bless my Venti Frappuccino Mocha Light avec noisettes. Do you know what, it worked. I got service with a smile, she doubled checked my order and it all came through perfectly. I even went back, skipping ahead of a long queue, to ask for 2 Internet access cards and she gave me them with a smile. Now, that to me is like honey from a rock.

Rubbish, I've written loads of junk without even going into the revelations I had planned. Tell you what, I’ll make a quick comment about the post-baptism week instead then write another one later to break it up for you.

It has been cool. I feel really different. I am quite delighted by this fact give that at the time it felt like a big risk and I was scared of a let down; more so than in coming to this Starbucks. I suppose last Sunday was a little bit like today. I was standing in that queue and saying “God, I could walk out right but I have a lot staked on this (a good seat, a settled friend and no nearby alternative) so could you just take over the situation please”. Similarly last week as I waited to get dunked it was all about “God I have a lot staked on this and absolutely NO alternative but there is still a lot ahead that terrifies me so would you be able to take over”. Tenuous analogy but true. So, really what I am saying is that even over one week I am more convicted of the decision to do it. I am a New Creation and really feel like it is the start of the rest of my life – a proper rebirth. He does comes through for you. Woohoo! :-D

Yeah, baptism is great, it is a physical act that works in the spiritual world and makes an actual tangible difference within. You do need to have some faith else it is just getting wet, but a mustard seed’s worth is enough for God to do great things with. Even now I find myself liking the obvious sins less and less (leaving it clear for me to notice and struggle with the less obvious ones mind!) and that is ‘cause I am changing. And once He has you He won’t let you go and you will only become more and more part of his 'flock' (check out John chpt 10) so I am excited to see how I will feel at 2 weeks old. Yeah there is temptation from all sides and regular hiccups (and that is only the ones I am aware of) but I am not the same person I once was and that in itself gives me a fighting chance.

In everything pray. You will grow more, glorify God better and get the coffee that you ordered complete with a smile!

Taking The Plunge

Today I got baptised. That is exciting but it is late so I will probably not say too much. I do however want to write sommat rather than nothing.

I was going to tell a cool story all about God manifesting Himself to me/a huge coincidence that looked to me like God manifesting Himself but I am tired and don't think I would give it enough credit so instead I will make small talk about what a nice day it was.

I also want to note that I am aware this entry misses out a lot of gaps in the story between thinking God exists and becoming a fully fledged (though very much baby) Christian. This will just have to remain so until I slot in some random insights (or not so random incites) that may go part way to explain, though cannot account for the mystery that is faith.

It was very scary for me to do this 'cause I am not one for major commitment or indeed final decisions (you should see me in a restaurant and then try and translate this to life altering choices) and baptism is kinda like getting married to Jesus (with a bit of a funeral for sin thrown in) so I find it to be quite a significant option. However, fear is a good thing to conquer and so that is what we did. You gotta take risks at some point or nothing will ever happen and the good thing about God is He makes promises that He has to keep so though it is like getting married to the invisible man He can still be held accountable in the physical dimension. And, bonus, by definition of omnipotence and such He is better husband material than most.

After a lovely if not overwhelming morning, vast lunch gathering at Spaghetti Factory and Starbucks with my wonderful sister (she flew over for the big event even when I made a big disclaimer that I may not do it) and my fabulous Canadian lady-husband I suddenly found myself 'absconded' by them to a surprise 'B' party. That was cool 'cause they themed everything around the letter which is GREAT when that involves Brut Bubbly, Bread, Brie, Biscuits, Brown chocolate (tenuous but well worth it) and Beautiful Brian! It was really touching both that they fore-planned this and that the dearies that organised it went totally against my secrecy wishes in order that it would happen 'cause they were sure I would 'take the plunge' even if I was not!

So, I just cut out half of this post 'cause I'd written a final thought last night that grew too big and I know what you people are like about getting bored halfway through. Now there is no good ending I shall just tail off...

S'pose when the subject is baptism I don't have to be all conclusive, what with it being about a new beginning an' all.

Everything is meaningless...

Well, I just spent an amazing weekend doing loads of cool stuff in Geneva. Classic tourist trips like the UN tour and Red Cross museum coupled with enchanting random days full of new friends and strange experiences. What did I say at every turn? "I'm going to blog about this". And what am I now going to write about? Coffee shops and hair dressers...

Today I had a music lesson. It was not as progressive as I would have liked: spent most of the time gossiping and having a hoarse throat (not least after the as yet undescribed weekend) but it was quite fun. From here I decided to grab a Starbucks as I had a good book in my bag and an hour to kill before my colour appointment. This was a bit of a treat as I have been abstaining for a long time; partly due to general busyness couple with a *slight* need for detox... So I went for one of my two favourites: hazelnut mocha with non-fat milk and whipped cream (the non-fat justifies the whip). I got it venti (with a maple scone) and it came out grande so I sent it back. There is a big difference and I had been looking forward to this for ages so saw nowt wrong with getting from a service what one has asked, particularly when I put them under no pressure and did it with a smile. It was not my mistake... but sending it back sure was - there was no hazelnut syrup next time which I was partially devastated by and the cup was not even close to acceptably full. The look that returned my smile said "I have the power to destroy this small pleasure and I have just done it". Still, I tell myself that there is more to life than coffee and to give her the satisfaction of making me miserable was not where it was at. I read I eat I buy shoes (lovely brown leather 'thongs' to be precise). A bit concerning my card didn't work but hey, I had cash and I coped for over a week last-time without even that.

Hair time. Finally. I had REALLY been looking forward to/in need of this one. Mirrors of late have not been my friends. Les racines were showing big time and as I am currently growing it longer I decided that it was time to steer away from porn star blonde and into a more sophisticated 5-star blend.

Foolish to have expectations on arrival: never before Switzerland have I met more opinionated hair dressers. It may have something to do with the fact I don't speak great French but whenever I suggest one thing (using images are good for this) they suggest the opposite. Like the tousled choppy look that turned into a short bouncy bob or, on this occasion, the strawberry blond/dark red low lights that would look better in... purple.

Apparently my colouring does not suit rouge. What the hell does my colouring suit then?? Helloo... Ging-a. I was already unconvinced by the platinum and I now wonder at the mix of platinum, violet and dark brown that has blended together in a very fashionable, Solomon would be envious (if he weren't so damn Godly), silvery-grey.

Still. I read my book, I wait patiently and I think about a home dye job. My hairdresser was nice and I got to practise my French. Could have been worse I tell myself. Then I get to work, sit around for hours watching a kid draw a picture he is copying off the internet and helping him with bad French grammar (my specialty). All the time getting quite into the collection of letters I am reading to drown the boredom, if not more. I am really late there and had to go straight to French, both making the mistake of not telling my teacher I wouldn't be there till 8pm and not getting the chance for dinner either.

All told, sounds a bit like all the things I should have enjoyed were a little bit sour. But you know what, it was a ruddy bloody lovely day. 'Cause all the important things were great! Robyn turns up in Geneva and though it was stupidly early and she was a bit smelly (jokes! Not at all :-D) it was the best start ever. I get a text from a new friend who is really cool and totally exciting to meet up with again. I had a wonderful time with my French teacher despite the aforementioned circumstance (because that is all it was) and was reminded of the value and blessing that is our friendship. I even had the chance to keep an otherwise boreder (English grammar ain't so hot either!) 13 year old boy from watching cartoons and rotting his mind. Really, with all this in play, who cares about hair and coffee and money and supposed freedom from work?

And it did help that the book I was reading all day long was The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis (there may well be a review to come...) which just kept reminding me fabulously of how unimportant the trivial niggles are in the grand scheme of things, yet how much they can get in the way of what is real and relevant. Hence I ended up feeling particularly free from all that shite as it ridiculed what value we can give to such things; showing what it can lead to yet how we really don't need to be subject to it at all! I loved the moment when a French woman on the bus said to me "un bon livre" and we shared a common appreciation and emancipation.

For sure I fell into about a million traps of anger, resentment, vanity, gluttony, superiority, judgement, selfishness, indifference, slothfulness and more. But who doesn't? The fact is, I am going to go to bed in a minute (with my Canadian hot water bottle) knowing that all that crap can't come with me and palpably sticking up my fingers to all the nasty works of the world that tried to bring me down today. Careful mind, trying to keep my humility intact... Damn it, there it goes.

Eh bien. Tomorrow is another day... :-)

P.S. Starting to really love the new colour and am interested to find out how silver foxes are treated in Geneva versus brassy blondes...

On Thursdays I'm Sexy

For the second week in a row I have had the most absurd experiences whilst traveling home from French , all involving Francophone men which does not help with the stereotype at all.

Indeed, any woman that has passed through Geneva will not leave without at least one story about bizarre unwarranted attentions from the stranger members of the night-time crowd. I would add an aside at this point, particularly for my mother, that at no point am I in any danger. Unless I were to choke from excessive laughter, or in a case of particularly bad B.O.

So, I thought I'd recap some of the funnier/bizarrer (adjective check?) stories; either my own or ones that I can shamelessly steal from friends and legends...

Tonight it started at a tram stop when a motorbikist passing across the way appeared to be waving at me. I ignored this as probably a traffic signal and definitely not pertinent to my future marital status so was surprised to find a few moments later that he had decided to turn in the road and come say hello - or "bon soir". Now usually I would of course ignore the strange advances of strange men in the night time. However, given the Anglophone-heavy nature of my life in Geneva I have begun to take these as golden opportunities to practise colloquial French speaking. I was delighted to find that I could both understand and refuse an offer for a lift and compliments however trite do sound better in French.

Now, I am being brutally honest when I say that even I do not think I am worthy of this attention today of all days. I ought to have washed my hair this morning and the rolled down ankle socks with summer skirt look is not that hot. All before mentioning the major circles under my eyes (been up too late watching House... mmmmmm) and random assorted bag-like garments that I was wearing. However, this did not put off bikeman. Neither did it prevent the oddball opposite me on the bus a little bit later on from persisting to make eye-contact till he got off (the bus) and then proceeding to my window and making gestures towards my face and other generally enthusiastic beckonings. With hindsight I suppose I may have had something on my nose but this ought not to have preoccupied him right up until the point that the bus overtook.

Last week made an impression simply because as the three of us were walking back from dinner to Cornavin (you ought to be avid enough to recall the post that referred to this evening and thus who sad three are) there was a passing cyclist who really shouldn't have turned around 3-times to try to 'connect' as he rode up Rue du Mont-Blanc. I was kind enough respecting the danger his life was in to not try out my latest put-downs at that point. It did seem a little silly though and as such the memory has stuck.

None of them are fussy either. I was once on my way home carrying a whole load of 'stuff' that was effectively rubbish I found in the street (kitsch objets d'art) and the only issue this posed to the man of the moment was whether I would mind moving it so he could sit next to me on a practically empty bus.

A particular favourite anecdote is when a friend had a man join her under her umbrella (sorry to steal Andrea but it is good!) and try to chat her up whilst invading her personal space and ensuring she was getting wet round the edges. Always a sure bet. I have also heard of full-on marriage proposals happening at the bus stop and even when the predator and prey do not speak a word of the same language that does not stop them wanting to call you up!

I just don't get what it is that these guys think they will achieve from all this..? Are there actually women out there who, when swooned, stared or muttered at, melt at the knees and go "oh yes, I want some of that" and it is they who are encouraging these men to persevere with such tactics? Surely they should have worked out by now from the spectrum of reactions, that I can only imagine range from polite and silent disgust to actual bodily harm, that these well intended advances will not in fact make them any luckier.

OK, so one guy was really quite smooth and did in fact have a potentially winning line. It was in Starbucks on a Saturday afternoon and thus obviously a different class of perv was aprowling. After some good practising of français he offered me his card telling me he was a photographer and was looking for some new models. Now ladies, that is of course difficult not to blush at, look coy and inadvertently satisfy his aspirations of making a good impression. As he leaves I look down at the card and am confronted with a black and white image of a bare-chested woman languishing under the website address. Gutted I kick myself:

aspiring political careers are always spoiling my fun...

Cleopatra comin' at'cha and other incites

It seems that Cleopatra is feeling at home... I am sitting on the bed with a cat licking my toes and walking over my keys. Awwww. Yet a little arggggh as well! Does she not know I am disturbingly attach to my laptop?

Well. Apparently I am a blogger at heart now. I have spent a most fabulous day-off in Geneva doing all kinds of wonderful things and being rather insightful throughout (or not as it turns out) but the consistent thought I have had is: "This would make a good blog." Oh dear. Particularly since most of the time they were not very good things at all! So, the following entry is a random hotchpotch of everything that half amused or endeared me and I do hope it does not begin to look like a list but given the lateness of the evening I fear that it is inevitable. I hope more that I will eventually find a way to balance real life with cyber stories else it will become a pretty pitiful existence...

[Aside: there is an adorable tabby chasing a wooden mouse around my parquet. If only we were all this easily satisfied.]

Today is (well, it was) the Swiss national holiday marking Ascension. Isn't that cool/weird? I suppose it stems from the days of reformation and Calvin (am I convincing you with this feeble unresearched postulate?) but I liked it 'cause it meant a lie in (OK, everyday is a lie in for me) and I could then hang with my hommies from midi de minuit. It also meant that I got another gift from my generous benefactors - tradition has it that you give lilies of the valley and mine turned up in a cute vase and are stinking out the place in the best possible way.

First thought and a very important one: probiotic yoghurt drinks suck, don't bother. I tried one that Robyn left here and it minged to high kingdom come. Anything dairy and banana flavoured ought to taste like milkshake; needless to say, this one did not. I'd rather be bloated thank you very much.

Having moved the cat in and secured all possible escape routes (I'm not sure why she would want to leap off a first floor balcony but the risk was posed) I then "left her to make herself at home" and headed to my producer's place to do some serious jammin'. En route I walked past a car with a small child in the back seat. Not that unusual. I was however slightly perturbed by the fact that he had decided to victimise me with the worst attack he knew how and was sticking his tongue out in what can only be described as a violent manner. Turn the other cheek aside, this kid needed to learn some manners - it was clear what I had to do and I must admit I took great relish in returning the favour... only to worry for the next few minutes that he had in fact been eating a pink ice lolly (it was a warm day) and I was the meanest passerby in the history of pedestrianisation and had scarred him for life. Luckily I don't think about anything for too long so the guilt quickly passed.

I particularly like jamming with Caro 'cause we make some pretty special harmonies together. She struggles, apparently, with syncopation... and I can't stick to the beat if I try. I'm sure glad her flat mates are francophone 'cause at least I can't understand the comments. I also made a great discovering this afternoon - I can play the guitar. I am not sure how I forgot this fact but sure as hell there were at least two songs that I could join in with. I am rather delighted!

So today was pretty good, and I must say it's ones like this - sharing with beloved friends, music, deep conversation, learning and glorious walks in the sun - that really make you happy to be alive. I am fabulously chilled out, but perhaps a little too much. It turns out I have lost my bank card and with some thought I can honestly say I haven't seen it for a week. How does one go about dealing with issues like this when you don't know who to ring or what to say when you get through? Oh well, I sorted through my small change and 5 cents, approx 2.5p (I remember when it was 2p...), suddenly look a whole lot more appreciable. I really am far too blasé about the whole thing seeing as when I left Caro's I still headed to Starbucks pre-French class. But I did only get a 'grande coffee maison' (anyone else note that un caffee ought to be grand?) so I was almost being frugal. Hmmm. I do hope my card appears miraculously over the next 12 hours as this weekend will be pretty crappy on 8 CHF.

This brings me, in an almost cohesive manner, to my French lesson. Now, I am not being glib when I say that at the moment I genuinely feel like one of the luckiest girls alive; and my French 'class' pose no threat to this. Aside from the fact that it is a beautiful language with wonderful culture (and I am not saying this 'cause Bee might be reading... she is German anyway!) but really and truly I don't think that learning French ever has or will be this fun again. The general form is that I turn up around 7.30/8pm and gossip (these days in a mixture of English and French) about our week and we always have at least one praise point :-). We have a bit of a pray, a bit of food and then manage to throw in a bit of dictation without even really noticing! Today was a particularly fab time - I had to leave early as I had a last minute "I invited you to dinner today but forgot to tell you" from Anna so we squeezed in 2 lessons and a week's worth of news over a table top picnic of sausage, cheese, olives, nuts and red wine! Bee even gave me a gorgeous pair of bronze earrings. This is a far flung experience from the days of Mrs ...? (how have I forgotten your name scary ginger teacher-points for anyone who remember GCSE French) who chased me down for bunking my oral and oversaw the only school detention I ever got (not for bunking said oral but for having my nose pierced in a 'defiant manner').

Then to the eve which, glorious though it was is bringing me way over my self-imposed word count. Anna made great beef borgin-stuff which I did sample though très full and I met Robyn's new lover who is distressingly lovely. Much banter (I think the deep convos can have a separate entry) and wine/dessert/tea later and I was on the bus listening to my iPod and realising that it was time for an update. 'Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree' is a tune but, like many fabulous things, there is a time and a place and I find it hard to delight in the arrival of spring to that wonderful ditty. Why doesn't every season have it's own songs? Maybe you have some ideas as to what the soundtrack to spring ought to be...?

Hmmm, a 'deep' last thought. My successor had a fabulous mishearing today that lead us (her, Robyn and myself) to an almost poignant question. I was describing something/someone as really insightful (it wasn't me!) and she thought I said greedy and spiteful(?!). We then asked ourselves: if you had to choose one or t'other of those things to categorise yourself as, which would honestly be the best fit? Sadly I think today's blog inevitably leaves me looking like a mean glutton...

...though I could always claim I meant inciteful: I am really good at getting other people to do stuff!