Because

Because I was nauseas I didn’t take my antihistamine.
Because I didn’t take my antihistamine I couldn’t stop sneezing.
Because I couldn’t stop sneezing I threw my back out.
Because I threw my back out it hurt to move.
Because it hurt to move I limited movement.
Because I limited movement my joints started to stiffen up.
Because my joints started to stiffen up I thought I’d get some exercise.
Because I needed exercise I thought I’d go for a run.
Because two weeks ago I could run for half an hour I thought I’d be able to do it okay.
Because I struggled to make it to 20 minutes I gave up and went home.
Because I gave up and went home I felt pathetic and miserable.
Because I felt pathetic and miserable I attempted to cheer myself up by eating comfort food.
Because I was very sorry for myself I ate a lot of comfort food.
Now I feel nauseas and lethargic.
In just two short weeks one piddling little irritant has led to a spiral of crappiness that I just can’t seem to pull out of.
Please feel free to give me a cyber boot in the pants.
Because I really don’t have time for this.

Stonehenge Photos

Testing, testing. Can I load photos? This should be a trio of stonehenge photos. One traditional view (outside the ropes), one inside the circle and one with picturesque sunset on an upright.

Thanks St Anthony

I may have mentioned that while we were away we lost the memory card from our camera and with it all of our photographs from London, Paris, Bath and Stonehenge. We looked everywhere, tearing my mother-in-law's house apart in the search, and to my great disappointment couldn't find it. When we returned home we even removed the linings of our suitcases in our hunt for the missing memory card. All to no avail.
So imagine my surprise when I walked into my bedroom this afternoon and saw a memory card sitting on top of my satchel-as if it had fallen from the ceiling.
I didn't want to get my hopes up and loaded it into the camera thinking I'd probably find 200 pictures of the cat. But lo-there was the Eiffle tower winking back at me!
It was the lost memory card-with most of the photos intact (London seems to be missing but I will continue to work on it.)
I don't know where the card was, or why it has turned up now but I am happy to have it back.
As the patron of lost things St Anthony gets my thanks-as does whoever petitioned him on our behalf (since it wasn't us).
Now as soon as I work out how it's done I'll be able to post some photos.

C25K

This morning I completed day 3, week 9 of the couch to 5k running program officially graduating from couch potato to “runner”. I use the quotation marks because most people could probably walk faster than I run. Hey, I can probably walk faster than I run. Even so, I did it and I’m quite pleased with myself.
I ran, okay jogged, for time rather than distance. Nine weeks ago shuffling along for one minute was a bit of an effort. Today I can do thirty continuous minutes with the same amount of effort. I figure this means that my fitness has improved, though I have no objective way of measuring that.
Now that I’ve made it this far I am determined to stick with it, aiming to increase my speed/distance. (I am currently only running about 3.5-4km in half an hour as opposed to the 5km the program targets so there’s lots of room for improvement.)
If you’re interested in checking out the program for yourself (or just to see what I’m talking about) you can find it here:
cool running, couch to 5k running program
It’s not particularly easy but neither is it very hard. And if I can get my fat, middle-aged, arthritic arse through it then anybody can.

A Big Thanks

A bit I have returned from my time in the UK with an addiction. I love trashy magazines. Not of the celebrity gossip, latest Hollywood diet and fashion kind, but of the reptiles really rule the earth, crop circles are really messages from beyond and my cat saved me from poltergeist variety.
I’ve always loved a good ghost story (having lived in a couple of haunted houses myself) and I do have a soft spot for a good conspiracy theory (or, let’s be honest, even a bad one, in fact, I don’t know which is more fun-completely whacked out theories or those plausible enough to make you wonder). While we were away I discovered a plethora of magazines devoted to these and other out there subjects. My nearest and dearest simply don’t understand my fascination and I’m sure the in-laws are just a little concerned about what my hero has married into but I was delighted to discover ‘chat It’s Fate!’, ‘the Fortean Times’ and their many contemporaries.
Sadly Australia offers no equivalent reading material, so you can imagine my delight when a friend offered to pick me up a couple of magazines while she’s passing through London. However I do believe that she may now be regretting the offer given that being seen purchasing the requested material makes her feel a little bit (and here I quote) “like a sky clad, crystal bedecked, om chanting, Gaia sentient fringe dweller”.
So I hereby acknowledge the sacrificed dignity and extraordinary embarrassment that she has suffered on my behalf in the purchasing of this material. And to any who doubted her, yes it really is for a ‘friend’.

Trip Report Part 6

Being a total ancient monument whore (I’ll do any of them, anywhere, any time, at every opportunity) I was quite keen to visit Stonehenge. Several past visitors warned me that it wasn’t anywhere near as good as they’d hoped-the site was crawling with like minded tourists and you can’t get close to the stones themselves. It was suggested that I give Stonehenge a miss and visit some of the lesser known standing stones that dot the area. But to me that would be like telling a visitor to Sydney to forget the harbour bridge, icon that it is, and go check out some other bridge, the city has heaps of them. But in deference to the advice I found a tour company that took a limited number of people inside the stone circle after hours. This nicely circumvented the crowd and distance problems.
The tour took us to Bath for the afternoon where we visited the Roman Baths then spent a couple of hours wandering about the city. My imagination was captured by the idea that over two thousand years ago someone else was sitting at the edge of the bath in the exact same spot that I was in. The day was sunny and warm, a band played in the park and a few characters wandered the streets in regency costume. Nature and man seemed to conspire to show off the place at its best.
After we left Bath we travelled to Lacock, a village pretty much unchanged since Saxon times, for dinner. The tiny township was dressing itself for its latest movie role (apparently it’s often used in this capacity) so the roads were all covered with sand and gravel giving an even better idea of how the place would have looked way back when. Dinner at the oldest pub in Lacock (there are two pubs in this four street town) was nothing to write home about but the service was efficient and the place charming. I’m sure they did their best with the volume of customers they had and it’s not as if they were advertising themselves as the home of fine dining. Even so they win the dubious honour of the third worst meal eaten out while away. If you ever get the urge to visit Lacock take a picnic.
We reached Stonehenge at sunset and were given free access to the site. Standing back behind the ropes I can completely understand why some people might not find the structure as impressive as its image would have them believe. But what a difference a few feet make. Once inside the circle your entire perspective changes. Up close I found the structure spectacular. I must have taken about a hundred photos (and if we hadn’t lost the memory card I’d be able to post a few of them-but that’s another story).
Did I feel any mystical connection to the site? No. I suspect that any magical vibrations the place may have held have long since been drained away by the thousands upon thousands of visitors and are now so slight as to only be apparent to the supersensitive, of which I am not one.
But it really is one awe inspiring piece of engineering and I’m glad I got close enough to touch the stones because, as I said earlier, the difference that contact makes is amazing. So maybe there is a bit of magic left in the old circle yet

Paris in the Spring Time

My hero took a notion that it would be nice to visit Paris, since we were in the neighbourhood (Europe being the neighbourhood). Given that our time, and French, was limited (“Ou est les crayons?” not being the most useful of phrases, unless of course, you are seeking pencils,) we decided that a guided day trip would be our best option.
We travelled from London to Paris via the chunnel. The train trip took a little over 2 hours (around half the time it would take to reach my mother’s place from here) and wasn’t scary at all-if you can keep your mind off all that water over your head.
We spent the morning being bussed around the streets of Paris passing by all the main tourist sites, which were more impressive in reality than I’d imagined, though what sticks with me most was the recurrent panic that struck whenever we turned a corner onto the right side of the road. I had no idea just how wrong being on the right hand side of the road would feel.
Naturally our day included a visit to the Eiffel Tower, where due to a mix up with tour dates, the tour company comped us lunch. The restaurant was everything you would imagine. The view from the first floor of the tower was spectacular even though the day was overcast. The food was delicious, although staff and fellow diners would be forgiven for believing we thought otherwise when Boy Genius critiqued the coffee in a manner which transcended all language barriers. (He stood, pointed at his cup and said very loudly “Eww, yucky.”)
After lunch we took a cruise along the Seine before spending the rest of the afternoon at the Louvre-which naturally included a visit to the Mona Lisa. Philistine that I am, I wasn’t particularly impressed by her but in my own defence that might have been due to the number of spectacular art works she was surrounded by.
There was a slight incident with Boy Genius as we were leaving, suffice to say the French security guards showed exceptional support and understanding.
I had never really had a desire to see Paris but after this brief trip I am quite keen to return for a longer visit without the entourage. The city made an obvious impression on Master of the Bleeding Obvious who has embraced her French lessons with a passion and is determined to go back someday. If I don’t improve my own French, I just might take her.

Translation Fail

I lately received an annual progress report from World Vision. These reports invariably take on an overly thankful tone that makes me uncomfortable (we chose to sponsor a child for many reasons-none of them a desire for approbation), so I usually give them a quick scan and file them away. This time my eye was caught by its opening paragraph which reads in part:

It is for me a great honour to write on behalf of your sponsored child and his community to express our heartfelt gratitude to you for your unvaluable support. (emphasis mine)

Putting aside the fact that our sponsored child is a girl, I was greatly amused. Is this a passive aggressive attempt to get us to increase our donation or an unfortunate translation glitch? I’m going with the latter. I’m sure it is my invaluable support they appreciate.
It gave me a laugh anyway.

Trip Report Part 4: The Tower of London

Naturally our time in London included a visit to the Tower (as a place of historic significance a morning spent there allowed me to justify taking the girls out of school for six weeks).
I thought the most impressive view of the Tower of London was as we exited the tube station. You come up into daylight and there it is-big impact. The morning was showery, necessitating the purchase of a grossly overpriced ‘souvenir’ umbrella, but the rain held off long enough for us to join a guided tour, led by a beefeater with a great knowledge of history and a very dry sense of humour. His commentary (though I’m sure long rehearsed) felt spontaneous and his little asides about modern life at the Tower gave the place vivid colour.
After the tour we duly stood on a moving walkway and were conveyed past the crown jewels, which, to be honest, were not nearly as impressive as I had expected. The crowds we were warned against did not eventuate, which was a good thing seeing as how the dodgy weather encouraged those people who were there to stay inside.
During our time in London we also managed to stroll past the houses of parliament, admire big Ben, and not tour Westminster Abbey. This last was a decision of Boy Genius, who after walking around the outside flatly refused to enter and suggest the alternative ‘go home have afternoon tea’, and so we did.
Thus concluded our time in London, more or less.
There was a lovely, lazy day spent visiting my hero’s brothers, but I’ve decided not to go into the intimacies of family contact in this recount of the edited highlights of our trip.

Trip Report Part 3-The British Museum

On the holidays I went to the British Museum and I saw a Stone chopper from Tanzania and the Rosetta Stone and a Colossal bust of Ramesses the Great and the Assyrian Lion Hunt reliefs and the Parthenon sculptures and an Easter Island statue Hoa Hakananai’a and a turquoise serpent from South America and a Cloisonné jar with dragons and a Jade Terrapin from Allahabad and the Lewis Chessmen and the Sutton Hoo ship burial and a Mosaic of Christ and the Basse Yutz flagons and the Flood tablet and the Royal Game of Ur and the Mummy of Katebet and Samurai armour and loads of other stuff.
This may give a slight sense of me in the British Museum. I’d barely have time to appreciate one thing when the next would catch my eye and I was off. All ethical conflicts I felt prior to my visit melted away as my sense of wonder slipped into overdrive. I could have spent a week there rather than just the three hours I had.
If I ever return to London this museum will be the reason why.