keris stainton

2007 in review

I know I'm really late with this, but so far 2008 has been taken up with illness and faffing...

I pinched this meme from Ms Mac (and I think I also did it last year, but who can be bothered to check? Not me, I'm sure)...

1. What did you do in 2007 that you never did before?

Walked a half marathon.

2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Didn't make any. And no.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Um, possibly. Susan - how old's Olivia? (Bad friend? Me?)

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Sadly, yes. David's granny.

5. What countries did you visit?

France, Spain and America. Get me.

6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?

More than enough money. (In fact this - which Michael Neill calls "abundance" - is my primary goal for 2008. So sick of just getting by. You'll be hearing much more about this, gentle readers.)

7. What dates from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

Dates? I rarely know what day it is, let alone the date.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Raising £1500 sponsorship for the New York walk. (Thanks again to all who coughed up.)

9. What was your biggest failure?

Failing to have a novel published. Again.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Probably. I certainly had a cough for about a month...

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Either my memory's terrible, or 2007 was particularly boring ... um, I'm rather fond of the mug I picked up with the last dregs of my spends in New York Airport (see, I can't even remember where we flew from!).

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

All my lovely blog friends, of course. Harry, who finally - finally! - started talking.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?

Same as last year, I imagine.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Mortgage, council tax, Virgin, electricity, gas, water, preschool fees, paying off debts, buildings, contents, car, life insurances...

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Seeing my essay in Perfectly Plum.

16. What song will always remind you of 2007?

The theme to Pingu. Or New York, New York, as heard on the cruise in, um, New York.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? The same, I think
b) thinner or fatter? Very slightly fatter, probably
c) richer or poorer? Hard to say. Probably neither, just marginally more relaxed about money.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?

Fiction writing.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Titting about on the internet..?

20. How did you spend Christmas?

Here, there, London for a wedding.

21. What was your favourite month of 2007?

They all blended into one, really.

22. Did you fall in love in 2007?

Only more in love with people I already love. You know, like Bradley Whitford (Josh and Danny? Twice as much to love!)

23. How many one-night stands?

Heh.

24. What was your favourite TV programme?

It started slowly, but Studio 60 springs to mind.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

I don't know him well enough to really hate him, but I'm not loving Mike Huckerbee's work.

26. What was the best book you read?

Split By A Kiss by Luisa Plaja

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Musical discovery? I'm not sure I heard *any* new music in 2007, how sad is that? Oh, I tell you one music-related memory - driving and dancing to New Shoes by Paolo Nutini and looking in the mirror and seeing Harry dancing too.

28. What did you want and get?

A nice shiny new telly.

29. What did you want and not get?

Everything else.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?

Lumme. I think I only saw one at the cinema and that was Knocked Up. I enjoyed that though.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

No idea. And 36.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Having more than enough money.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?

Personal fashion concept? Much like today, I spent 2007 mostly modelling hungover tramp.

34. What kept you sane?

Blog friends - particularly Diane, Luisa and Lisa - Michael Neill, and O magazine.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

<--- Obviously.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?

I can't think of anything specific. Many, many things.

37. Who did you miss?

My mum.

38. Who was the best new person you met?

Well I met Lisa, finally!

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007

If you build it, they will come. Um, no. My laziness will expand to fit the space available?

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year

For Now from Avenue Q:

Nothing lasts,
Life goes on,
Full of surprises.
You'll be faced with problems of all shapes and sizes.
You're going to have to make a few compromises...
For now...
But only for now!

For now we're healthy.
For now we're employed.
For now we're happy...
If not overjoyed.
And we'll accept the things we cannot avoid, for now...
But only for now!

Don't stress,
Relax,
Let life roll off your backs
Except for death and paying taxes,
Everything in life is only for now!

My destiny

Has you ever experienced something as a result of a series of such random events that it can only have been destiny?

This morning I went to put on the stretchy jeans that I wear, um, every day and remembered I'd put them in the wash basket (actually, they went of their own accord), but hadn't  yet washed them. So I had to put on my exceedingly baggy jeans.

Later I invited David's mum to lunch. Once we'd collected Harry, it was pretty warm and she said it would be better to go to her house because she had frozen food from Morrisons.

At her house I was sitting on the patio having a drink and Harry was running around the garden. He kept bringing me things and then, after a while, he wanted to show me a little windmill, but he couldn't get it out of the ground. So I crossed the lawn and sat on a bench near the windmill.

By then grandma had pulled the windmill out for him and he brought it over to me to blow.

I leaned forward to blow it and...

A bird pooed down the back of my jeans.

Now does anyone know why a bird pooing down my jeans is my destiny?

More Knittens

I can't believe some of you actually want to buy them. You're so sweet!

I was thinking £5 including P&P. Does that sound reasonable?

Off to finish another in front of Springwatch. Oh, the glamour.

Can I interest you in a Knitten?

Lord, I'm exhausted. After yesterday's cry for help post (thank you for all your fantastic comments), I pootled over to the new Shiny site, Crafty Crafty, which led me here, where I was struck with an overwhelming urge to knit a kitten (don't you hate it when that happens?).

I knitted frantically when pregnant, but the urge wore off as soon as the boy was out and I haven't picked up my needles since, but once I'd copied down the pattern I didn't stop knitting until I had a newly knitted kitty pal. (You know I wanted to say pussy pal then, but I was worried about searches. Oops.)

He's not quite right, having a gammy leg where I sewed it up wrong and some blue bits where I ran out of white stuffing, but he's very cute all the same, dontcha think? (You can sew a face on of course, but I like him without. Also I'm even crapper at sewing than I am at knitting.)

I'd quite like to get better at it and see if I can sell some to supplement my sponsorship.

I need a hard drive for my brain

Do you ever wish you could just switch your mind off for an hour or twelve?

I've got so much to think about, family, work, money, health, the house, big (huge) future plans (choosing a sodding school). Everything involves reading (well, it does for me) and thinking and discussing and pondering and planning and, yes, obsessing. I never get a moment's peace!

I've been meditating (a little bit - I can only manage about five minutes before I get antsy) and doing yoga again, but I still can't switch off. Luckily it doesn't stop me going to sleep (after five minutes thinking about comforting Daniel following Saturday's terrible disappointing usually sorts me out ... as it were), but if I wake up in the night then it's open season.

If there was just a switch that I could flip to transfer everything for safekeeping from, say, 8pm to 8am I'd be a very happy bunny.

D'oh! A deer...

Just realised I haven't yet written about the exciting events here last Saturday.

I was sitting in bed and, in the factory car park opposite our house, spotted what I thought was a large dog. I then realised it wasn't a large dog, but I wasn't quite awake enough to tell David what it was, so instead I just sat bolt upright and said, "Look! Look! Look!" David looked. And said, "Oh my god." For it was a deer.

I jumped up and, realising the car park gates were open, ran downstairs and rang the factory. "You probably already know this, but there's a deer in your car park." "A deer? Is there? Oh, bloody hell, I see it now!" I suggested they lock the gates so it didn't get out onto the main road.

After running back upstairs to have another look, I rang the RSPCA. They gave me an emergency number and also told me to ring the police. The police sounded utterly disinterested, but said they'd check it out.

Parking Harry on the window shelf so he too could enjoy the sight of a wild animal frolicking amongst the parked cars, I rang the RSPCA emergency line and got a recorded message. "If the animal is injured or being abused, press 1. Otherwise press 2." I pressed 2. "If the animal is causing a nuisance in your garden, press 1. Otherwise press 2." 2. "If the animal you're calling about is a snake, press 1. Otherwise press 2." 2. "If the animal you're calling about is a bat, press 1. Otherwise press 2." I was slightly concerned that we were going to have to go through ever flamin' animal in the world, before I could press 1, but the next message was "If you are calling about any other wild animal, press 1." I pressed 1.

At some point during the above, the deer wandered out of the car park (blokey having not yet shifted his arse and locked the gate) so I dispatched David to chivvy it back in. Before he made it outside, it went back in of its own accord, robbing me of the surely hilarious sight of David chivvying a deer, but it was probably for the best.

The deer then stuck its head through the railings directly opposite our house, causing me to worry for a second that a phone call to the fire brigade would be next, but it just had a bit of a sniff (at our car!) and then returned to bounding around and jumping over the small barrier.

It was so beautiful. It didn't seem to be scared, just a bit disconcerted. Finally the security guard came and locked the gates and, along with another fella, they did some chivvying of their own towards a gate at the back of the car park that I've never noticed before, but that obviously leads on to some parkland behind the factory. Once the deer spotted the gate it happily tripped through it and the security guard and Harry applauded.

I was still on hold to the RSPCA's emergency line. I hung up.

Duvet day (I'd like a)

Today I woke up feeling a bit ... crummy. I had a lie-in, but couldn't get back to sleep. Got up and had croissants for breakfast and then went to Clitheroe, which is a lovely place, but I couldn't get up much enthusiasm. Had lunch, came home, felt even crummier.

Harry went to bed. David went to bed (wearing his iPod). I sat on the sofa and decided I'd just read. Read read read until Harry woke up. Could be 2 hours. Couldn't remember the last time I just sat and read for a couple of hours...

About 20 minutes later my eyes were burning. I was yawning. I went to bed. I slept for over an hour. Possibly an hour and a half. David woke up. He woke me up and then we woke Harry up. It was 4 o'clock. We'd all slept the afternoon away. But.

I'm still tired. And I still feel a bit crummy. And I want to spend the day in bed just reading. And maybe writing. Perhaps on Tuesday...

I knew this day would come

I'm going to have to kill my husband.

We have this running joke where he mentions a woman's name, someone he works with, and I say, "Huh. You've never mentioned her before." And act all jealous, like.

Today I rang him to tell him he'd forgotten to take Harry's shoes to Grandma's and Harry was going to have to go to the park in slippers. Then I said, "Where are you?" and he said, "We're stuck in traffic." So I said, "Who you with?" and he said, "Elizabeth." So I said, "Elizabeth" in a kind of squeaky, sing-songy, sarcastic voice, which was meant to imply, "Ooh, Elizabeth, I love you, Elizabeth," kind of thing. Mature, I know.

Can you guess what I'm going to say?

Yep. He had me on speakerphone.

Nooooooooooooooooo!

I've never met Elizabeth (at least, I don't think so) and I begged him to explain to her that it's sort of an in-joke and I'm not demented (although it's certainly possible that I am). Or you know, maybe I have met her and now she thinks the "Elizabeth" was taking the piss because I didn't like her (rather than, you know, not remembering her at all). He said she's going on holiday and she won't remember, but if she's anything like me she'll spend the entire holiday wondering what she's done to make me say her name in such a facetious manner.

I'm going to have to kill him.

What the...?

Okay. I've  literally just got out of bed and I had to come and write this down because last night I had the World's Maddest Dreams!

My in-laws paper "boy" is about 30 and is a bit odd. Let's call him Nick. I dreamt David wanted trombone lessons and discovered that Nick was a great trombonist. Nick agreed to give David lessons and they were hashing out the terms (£2 per lesson, 2 lessons a week, 77 lessons required) when David, who was shirtless, lifted his arm and Nick licked his armpit. The negotiations broke down.

I was incubating hundreds of tiny bright red ducklings in a radiator.

I was "dating" Seamus from Any Dream Will Do, but he was living on my dad's roof with his brother. My parents' neighbour who I haven't seen for years, came round to check him out then emailed me to tell me he was a "hottie".

I had befriended a load of animals who seemed to be living in a giant cage in my in-laws garden. I would go outside to chat to a tiny black (talking) pig and a (talking) chicken who would sit on my head and dangle upside down to look me in the face.

What the hell did I eat last night?

Boom de de boom boom

In the comments to the last post, Diane wrote: "The gasman?? fiats?? eagles?? We sang one about "Cross over the road my friend, ask the Lord his strength to lend, his compassion has no end, cross over the road..." Ah, those were the days."

We sang Cross Over the Road too. It was one of my favourites, I think. (And what was the one about cherubim and seraphim...?) but of course, I then had to google the others. (What - no, really, what? - did we ever do without Google?)

First of all - it is beaver! (Maureen, do you know this one? It's Canadian!)

Land of the silver birch, home of the beaver
Where still the mighty moose wanders at will
Blue lake and rocky shore
I will return once more.*

Boom de de boom boom
Boom de de boom boom
Boom de de boom boom
Bo-o-o-o-m

[Lyrics from here where you can also hear the tune]

*This is kind of weird for me since I am Canadian and am hoping to return, but I doubt it meant much to me when I was 7...

Our headmaster, Mr Martin, used to play the guitar and particularly enjoyed the following two (neither of which I can find online, so you'll have to trust my memory):

Wrapped in swaddling clothes, the baby's lying
In his mother's arms, there'll be no crying
Shepherd's from afar, they do come [nigh?] him
Rocky Road-um, heyyy, a Rocky Road-um.

Rocky Rocky Road, a Rocky Road-um
Rocky Rocky Road, a Rocky Road-um
Rocky Rocky Road, a Rocky Road-um
Rocky Road-um, heyyy, a Rocky Road-um.

We really got into those Rocky Rocky Roads, as I'm sure you can imagine, and my sister's just reminded me that we used to do a Fonz-style thumbs up to the "heyyy" bits.

Now this one's just weird:

Bom bom bom bom bom ba-dom bom
Christ is the Lord of the smallest atom
Christ is the Lord of outer space
Christ is the Lord of [something or other]
Christ is the Lord of the human race.

I wasn't sure about the rest because it sounded too mad, but my sister remembers it even better than me (despite being two years younger, what's that about?):

From the greatest star to the coffee bar
and the length of the Berlin Wall
From the Village Green to the Asian Scene
Christ is the Lord of all. 

Modern hymns, eh? Give me To Be A Pilgrim any day. Ugh, I'll be singing that all day now. Everybody! He who would valiant be, 'gainst all disaster...