I'm logged on at home in Leeds this week. I'd planned on being home to help organise my brothers 30th birthday party Friday but after quite a tough few weeks I decided I needed some family time and jumped on the train earlier in the week. There's no better way to cheer myself up than with my nephew. It's debatable whether other family members always make me feel better though!
Out of the mouths of babes, as the saying goes. He's making me laugh a minute. This morning on the way to the park a lady walking towards us smiled and said hello, M says, 'Auntie Maya who IS that?' to which I replied, 'It's just a nice lady' he looked at the lady with his big blue eyes and said 'No! It's not a lady! It's a man!' I could see how he would be mistaken. Mortified!!!
I'm spending some time this week researching confidence and self esteem building, getting my hair cut, watching day time TV and right now I am wondering if it is too early (currently 4 p.m.) to have a bath and put my PJ's on?
Hope you are all having a good week! I'll soon be back stronger and happier .....
xoxo
Wednesday, 1 August 2012
Wednesday, 25 July 2012
Match Made in Heaven?
Walking up the street to town and bringing my sister up to date with the latest on my relationship status, or more accurately my none relationship status, I groaned inwardly as I spotted the local weirdo crossing the road up ahead.
As he crossed the road he saw me approaching, his face lighting up with recognition, and he stopped still in the middle of the road to wait for me. Urgh
‘Maya!’ he waved to catch my attention as I purposely averted my eyes to the ground and interrupted my sister so that he could see I was talking into my headphones. That or talking to myself which might also put him off (doubtful) either conclusion he drew would work for me. He wasn’t going to be deterred today.
‘Hang on Kay, hang on ….’ I said into the headphones, I wanted her to stay on the line to witness this conversation. Sometimes I think I dream these scenarios. It doesn’t seem possible that one women can attract the attention of so many oddballs.
‘Hi’ I say. I don’t recall his name. He had told me when he’d stopped me the previous year for the first time and asked mine but I hadn’t been listening. I hadn’t realised we’d be speaking so often at the time! I do recall his age. 60. The day I turned a corner bumping into him with his egg stained T shirt he’d told me it was his birthday and ‘I don’t mind telling you how old I am Maya!’ he’d said proudly. I also remember that he works for the DWP. ‘That’s Department of Work and Pensions Maya!’ He’s one of those people that are over familiar with your name.
‘Maya! I wondered if you wanted to go to dinner?’
Seriously? I think. You are wondering that? Awkward.
‘Urm…’ I was waiting for him to give a date so that I could have fixed plans to be busy.
‘Yeah! It’s a group of us’ he gestures with his hand across to the park as though the group are sitting over there. Probably the local alcoholics come to think of it. I glance at his thread bare jacket held together with dirt experiencing a strange feeling of disgust and sympathy at the same time.
‘Urm….’ Still stalling.
‘In September, for an Indian in Wood Green. I’ve been thinking it would be lovely if you could come.’ He's been thinking it would be lovely if I could come? I find that a little disturbing.
‘Oh well’ September perfect. ‘Maybe, September is a little way off yet so I can’t say if I will be around.’
The last party he had invited me to was at his house. I had imagined turning up and finding it was a party for three. Me, him and his dead mother sitting in a chair in the corner. I’d politely made my excuses.
‘Whose asking you out to dinner?’ my sister asks into my ear.
‘Ok Maya! Well I will let you know the date closer to the time.’ Then he turns on his heels and heads home with what looked like a spring in is step.
‘Urgh!!!! It’s THAT man again’ I whisper.
She knew of this man already. I often speed dial her when I see him coming towards me to avoid having to stop and engage in conversation, gesturing wildly to show I him I'm speaking, sorry, can’t stop! I’ve even hidden behind a tree (unsuccessfully) with bags of shopping when I spotted him walking ahead of me and he happened to glance back.
When I’d told her that he was the local strange man she’d asked me what was strange about him. I’d explained that he’s always alone, always walking to town or back aimlessly and clearly has nothing better to do and had greasy hair and was scruffy to which she had asked;
‘And how is that any different to you? I wonder if he thinks the same thing about you? Maybe you are the local weirdo?’ I don't like how she says this with an accusatory tone. Like it might actually be the case!
I chose not to focus on the similarities. True I did walk to town and back most weekends. I didn’t always wash my hair on a weekend and I didn’t dress to the nines. Instead I’d pointed out that he is 60, lives with his mother and is filthy and greasy.
‘Well’ she said matter of fact ‘tell me that in another 30 years’
We may just be a match made in heaven if my relationship luck doesn’t change soon. Depressing.
xoxo
*Disclaimer - this is a true story. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. (A very depressing fact in itself)
As he crossed the road he saw me approaching, his face lighting up with recognition, and he stopped still in the middle of the road to wait for me. Urgh
‘Maya!’ he waved to catch my attention as I purposely averted my eyes to the ground and interrupted my sister so that he could see I was talking into my headphones. That or talking to myself which might also put him off (doubtful) either conclusion he drew would work for me. He wasn’t going to be deterred today.
‘Hang on Kay, hang on ….’ I said into the headphones, I wanted her to stay on the line to witness this conversation. Sometimes I think I dream these scenarios. It doesn’t seem possible that one women can attract the attention of so many oddballs.
‘Hi’ I say. I don’t recall his name. He had told me when he’d stopped me the previous year for the first time and asked mine but I hadn’t been listening. I hadn’t realised we’d be speaking so often at the time! I do recall his age. 60. The day I turned a corner bumping into him with his egg stained T shirt he’d told me it was his birthday and ‘I don’t mind telling you how old I am Maya!’ he’d said proudly. I also remember that he works for the DWP. ‘That’s Department of Work and Pensions Maya!’ He’s one of those people that are over familiar with your name.
‘Maya! I wondered if you wanted to go to dinner?’
Seriously? I think. You are wondering that? Awkward.
‘Urm…’ I was waiting for him to give a date so that I could have fixed plans to be busy.
‘Yeah! It’s a group of us’ he gestures with his hand across to the park as though the group are sitting over there. Probably the local alcoholics come to think of it. I glance at his thread bare jacket held together with dirt experiencing a strange feeling of disgust and sympathy at the same time.
‘Urm….’ Still stalling.
‘In September, for an Indian in Wood Green. I’ve been thinking it would be lovely if you could come.’ He's been thinking it would be lovely if I could come? I find that a little disturbing.
‘Oh well’ September perfect. ‘Maybe, September is a little way off yet so I can’t say if I will be around.’
The last party he had invited me to was at his house. I had imagined turning up and finding it was a party for three. Me, him and his dead mother sitting in a chair in the corner. I’d politely made my excuses.
‘Whose asking you out to dinner?’ my sister asks into my ear.
‘Ok Maya! Well I will let you know the date closer to the time.’ Then he turns on his heels and heads home with what looked like a spring in is step.
‘Urgh!!!! It’s THAT man again’ I whisper.
She knew of this man already. I often speed dial her when I see him coming towards me to avoid having to stop and engage in conversation, gesturing wildly to show I him I'm speaking, sorry, can’t stop! I’ve even hidden behind a tree (unsuccessfully) with bags of shopping when I spotted him walking ahead of me and he happened to glance back.
When I’d told her that he was the local strange man she’d asked me what was strange about him. I’d explained that he’s always alone, always walking to town or back aimlessly and clearly has nothing better to do and had greasy hair and was scruffy to which she had asked;
‘And how is that any different to you? I wonder if he thinks the same thing about you? Maybe you are the local weirdo?’ I don't like how she says this with an accusatory tone. Like it might actually be the case!
I chose not to focus on the similarities. True I did walk to town and back most weekends. I didn’t always wash my hair on a weekend and I didn’t dress to the nines. Instead I’d pointed out that he is 60, lives with his mother and is filthy and greasy.
‘Well’ she said matter of fact ‘tell me that in another 30 years’
We may just be a match made in heaven if my relationship luck doesn’t change soon. Depressing.
xoxo
*Disclaimer - this is a true story. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. (A very depressing fact in itself)
Thursday, 19 July 2012
Get Ahead of the Games!
Not long now before the games begin! Living in London it's been hard to avoid the hype for the last few years!! I'm almost over it before it's begun AND didn't manage to secure one single ticket to one single event!
The constant news in the papers and on the TV has been negative questioning security and disruption to travel. I thought having the games in London was something to celebrate? It certainly was when we won the vote. What happened?
So in light of all the negativity I have to say the one thing I am enjoying most is the Get Ahead of the Games poster campaign! The various posters on the underground amuse me! I particularly like this one ... Hee hee
The constant news in the papers and on the TV has been negative questioning security and disruption to travel. I thought having the games in London was something to celebrate? It certainly was when we won the vote. What happened?
So in light of all the negativity I have to say the one thing I am enjoying most is the Get Ahead of the Games poster campaign! The various posters on the underground amuse me! I particularly like this one ... Hee hee
To see the rest of the campaign check out this link http://www.getaheadofthegames.com/news/gaotg-artwork-posters.html
Something else I have noticed is the big clean up effort on the streets!! These are the things that should be highlighted a little more in the news!
xoxo
Thursday, 12 July 2012
Country Life
 |
| Front of Eaton Cottage |
For a long time I had wanted to hire a cottage in the English countryside with a group of friends or family. A weekend of relaxation, good food, good wine and laughs surrounded by nature. Truth is I regularly dream of one day owning a house in the countryside with a workshop at the bottom of the garden where I can write, sew and make my cards. A far cry from my rented place in London and the city job. The other side of my personality.
To have friends come stay, eating together in the garden during summer, drinking prosecco as the sun goes down and the heat of the day turns cool, roasts in the winter followed by long walks wrapped up against the cold air and then red wine by an open fire with my little border terrier. A house full of friends and family with their children, my nephews and nieces and godchildren. Who knows, even my own children. One day.
 |
| Back of Eaton Cottage |
Anyway, a few weekends back friends and I lived out this little dream for a weekend and hired a cottage in Shropshire in Eaton. Eaton Cottage. We ate, drank, walked for hours in the rain, swam in our own private pool (for two minutes just so that we could say we had), played Scrabble (or watched in my case), played Cranuim (and lost. My team), chatted, drank wine by the wood burning stove, tried my first cigarette (yes! This requires a post of it’s own). Then left at the end of the weekend with that melancholy feeling that comes after a great time with people you love and your alone and feel aware that you are alone for the first time after such great company.
For details of this cottage and other cottages click here http://www.eatonmanor.co.uk/accommodation/eaton-cottage/ Highly recommend a visit!
 |
| Love Window |
More weekends like that will make me a very happy women.
xoxo
Monday, 9 July 2012
Monday Blues
It's Monday again. Me and Monday don't get on too well. I'm always a little out of sorts when Monday comes knocking. A little like me and tiredness, we don't quite rub along together. Or me and hunger, hunger just makes me grumpy. The problem is, when Monday morning comes around tiredness is usually lingering from the weekend, in addition I have usually over indulged on weekend food and wine so come Monday morning my stomach is protesting at the sudden healthy regime. So you see, Monday morning I'm just not me. Well actually, I am me. The grump me that I am when I am tired or hungry. Grump did I say? OK. Witch.
So, Monday mornings are often disjointed. This morning a perfect example. I set out this morning to the station. The rain here in London is still torrential, I'd bought a new umbrella Friday, put it up this morning as I stepped off the doorstep and the top half flies off the bottom part and I'm left holding a handle! It's my sisters birthday on Wednesday and I have been searching for the right card for weeks now. The right card is very important. At Liverpool Street station I popped into Cards Galore, the annoying sales lady followed me around the little shop keeping a close eye on me. Would I really want to steal a card? When I found the section I needed she came and stood at the end of the display watching me. Blatantly. There were two cards for sister. Both plain with no verse. I tutted and left the shop not sure whether I was more annoyed at the surveillance or the lack of choice.
Popped into WHSmiths across the arcade. One card for sister. One rubbish card for sister. Walked to Moorgate station (getting more and more annoyed). No card shops. Walked to London Wall, another Cards Galore but without the card police on my tail. Two cards for sister. One of which I'm certain I have bought in the past and my sister has bought me. Can you name your shop Cards Galore when there are anything but cards galore inside?? Surely there's some trades description offcence there? Does no one in London buy one another cards anymore?!
I needed coffee by this point so I decided to treat myself to lift the Monday blues. I ordered my Americano, holding on the usual extra shot for fear it might send me over the edge. I was walking a fine line at that point. Got to the office then as I put my pass onto the security barrier I dropped the damn coffee all over the marble floor! Urgh Hello Monday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The good news is that it's now Monday afternoon, I've been to the gym and I've eaten breakfast, my elevenses and lunch. Oh and I'M BACK! Apologies for the disappearing act but I had a few things going on. The not so fabulous type. Lots to catch up on so come back and I'll fill you in!!
xoxo
So, Monday mornings are often disjointed. This morning a perfect example. I set out this morning to the station. The rain here in London is still torrential, I'd bought a new umbrella Friday, put it up this morning as I stepped off the doorstep and the top half flies off the bottom part and I'm left holding a handle! It's my sisters birthday on Wednesday and I have been searching for the right card for weeks now. The right card is very important. At Liverpool Street station I popped into Cards Galore, the annoying sales lady followed me around the little shop keeping a close eye on me. Would I really want to steal a card? When I found the section I needed she came and stood at the end of the display watching me. Blatantly. There were two cards for sister. Both plain with no verse. I tutted and left the shop not sure whether I was more annoyed at the surveillance or the lack of choice.
Popped into WHSmiths across the arcade. One card for sister. One rubbish card for sister. Walked to Moorgate station (getting more and more annoyed). No card shops. Walked to London Wall, another Cards Galore but without the card police on my tail. Two cards for sister. One of which I'm certain I have bought in the past and my sister has bought me. Can you name your shop Cards Galore when there are anything but cards galore inside?? Surely there's some trades description offcence there? Does no one in London buy one another cards anymore?!
I needed coffee by this point so I decided to treat myself to lift the Monday blues. I ordered my Americano, holding on the usual extra shot for fear it might send me over the edge. I was walking a fine line at that point. Got to the office then as I put my pass onto the security barrier I dropped the damn coffee all over the marble floor! Urgh Hello Monday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The good news is that it's now Monday afternoon, I've been to the gym and I've eaten breakfast, my elevenses and lunch. Oh and I'M BACK! Apologies for the disappearing act but I had a few things going on. The not so fabulous type. Lots to catch up on so come back and I'll fill you in!!
xoxo
Friday, 1 June 2012
Jubilee Weekend!
This weekend it is Jubilee weekend! I never really bought in to the street parties and the bunting for the Royal Wedding. I never really bought into the Royals come to think of it but, all of a sudden I am loving the streets around my area with their bunting hung out! This weekend is going to be quite a party in London!
My brother and his wife are arriving in London tomorrow to stay with me for a few days. When we planned it we didn't realise it was Jubilee weekend, it was planned around Coldplay at the Emirates on Monday! I'm borrowing my mam's picnic basket and going to try and find time to make Quiche Lorraine and scotch eggs! I think on Sunday we will pop down to the Thames and watch the flotilla and soak up the atmosphere!
I'm quite excited by the idea!
xoxo
My brother and his wife are arriving in London tomorrow to stay with me for a few days. When we planned it we didn't realise it was Jubilee weekend, it was planned around Coldplay at the Emirates on Monday! I'm borrowing my mam's picnic basket and going to try and find time to make Quiche Lorraine and scotch eggs! I think on Sunday we will pop down to the Thames and watch the flotilla and soak up the atmosphere!
I'm quite excited by the idea!
xoxo
Wednesday, 30 May 2012
I Did It!!!!!!!!!
I actually did it! I jumped from a plane at 15,000ft, freefalled at 120 mph for a minute then the parachute was deployed and we sailed to the ground. I even took control of the canopy and steered a little! I didn't scream once! I did have tears in my eyes in the plane though!
After losing sleep in the lead up to the big day I slept surprisingly well on Friday night. I was calm when I arrived at Hibaldstow Airfield and was more excited than anything. The weather was glorious and lucky for me, there were no hold ups. We had a 30 minute debrief....still calm, went back outside to wait....calm....
The plane that we would be taken in put me in mind of the movies when you see journalists being picked up from war zones! Excited! Then I watched the first people jump and land ... and thought, Wow! When my time came my instructor Wez, introduced himself. He was friendly and put me at ease although I was still surprisingly calm! so calm I was a little worried!
When my time came and I climbed into the plane I was less excited. The inside of the plane was far smaller than I'd imagined, infact, there were just two benches running down the centre of the plane side by side. My instructer straddled the bench on the left first, I sat between his legs, the next instructor between my legs ..... and so on! Same to the left of me and suddenly the plane felt very crammed, I was at the back and that's when I started thinking, hang on! I don't like this and the tears started prickling the backs of my eyes!
A little less calm and a little less excited. I asked Wez if I was definitely clipped to him. You never know! He reassured me, I was definitely clipped on to him. Then before I knew it we were at 15,000ft and the door to the plane was opened. Even less calm. Even less excited. I watched the first person out of the door, he literally dropped out of sight under the plane in a flash and suddenly the reality hit. I was jumping out of a plane! Not sitting in business with a glass of champagne. I was jumping out of a plane.
I don't remember exiting the plane. I remember no one being left in front of me and it being my turn.. I don't remember the three taps the instructor had said he'd give me on my shoulder when we got to the door so that I would know we were about to jump. I have no idea how he managed to have me hanging from the front of him at the mouth of that door! The only thing I remembered next was falling at 120 mph and thinking 'OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO BE SICK! OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO FAINT! OH MY GOD WHAT IF I AM SICK! WHAT IF I FAINT?' then 'Should I close my mouth and breath through my nose?!?' 'I can't breath!' Strangely I didn't once think I was going to die! I was more worried about being sick or fainting!!
When the parachute was released I was still muttering 'Oh my god!' and laughing like a loon. The instructor asked if I was ok and I thought, what a ridiculous question. Was I alright? I had no idea if I was alright or not. I expected to be able to tell you how beautiful and serene it was to be sailing down to earth, looking down on miles of land, the coastal line that I'd been told I'd be able to see, the curve of the earth but, I can't tell you any of that because I didn't see it! I had my eyes open all the time but my brain wasn't seeing a thing. I think it went into shock and focused on keeping my faculties functioning until landing!
The landing was a standing landing and was executed with no problem. It was an experience. It took me a day to really sink in and it's given me more confidence in myself. I can do anything! I achieved something that I have wanted to experience for a lot of years. I need to do more things like this!
Next stop was a country pub for a large glass of ice cold Rose. Sitting in the sunshine in the peace and quiet of the countryside having just fallen from 15,000ft at a very high speed. A little peice of heaven (and better than the heaven I could have been in had things gone wrong!).
xoxo
After losing sleep in the lead up to the big day I slept surprisingly well on Friday night. I was calm when I arrived at Hibaldstow Airfield and was more excited than anything. The weather was glorious and lucky for me, there were no hold ups. We had a 30 minute debrief....still calm, went back outside to wait....calm....
The plane that we would be taken in put me in mind of the movies when you see journalists being picked up from war zones! Excited! Then I watched the first people jump and land ... and thought, Wow! When my time came my instructor Wez, introduced himself. He was friendly and put me at ease although I was still surprisingly calm! so calm I was a little worried!When my time came and I climbed into the plane I was less excited. The inside of the plane was far smaller than I'd imagined, infact, there were just two benches running down the centre of the plane side by side. My instructer straddled the bench on the left first, I sat between his legs, the next instructor between my legs ..... and so on! Same to the left of me and suddenly the plane felt very crammed, I was at the back and that's when I started thinking, hang on! I don't like this and the tears started prickling the backs of my eyes!
A little less calm and a little less excited. I asked Wez if I was definitely clipped to him. You never know! He reassured me, I was definitely clipped on to him. Then before I knew it we were at 15,000ft and the door to the plane was opened. Even less calm. Even less excited. I watched the first person out of the door, he literally dropped out of sight under the plane in a flash and suddenly the reality hit. I was jumping out of a plane! Not sitting in business with a glass of champagne. I was jumping out of a plane.
I don't remember exiting the plane. I remember no one being left in front of me and it being my turn.. I don't remember the three taps the instructor had said he'd give me on my shoulder when we got to the door so that I would know we were about to jump. I have no idea how he managed to have me hanging from the front of him at the mouth of that door! The only thing I remembered next was falling at 120 mph and thinking 'OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO BE SICK! OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO FAINT! OH MY GOD WHAT IF I AM SICK! WHAT IF I FAINT?' then 'Should I close my mouth and breath through my nose?!?' 'I can't breath!' Strangely I didn't once think I was going to die! I was more worried about being sick or fainting!!
When the parachute was released I was still muttering 'Oh my god!' and laughing like a loon. The instructor asked if I was ok and I thought, what a ridiculous question. Was I alright? I had no idea if I was alright or not. I expected to be able to tell you how beautiful and serene it was to be sailing down to earth, looking down on miles of land, the coastal line that I'd been told I'd be able to see, the curve of the earth but, I can't tell you any of that because I didn't see it! I had my eyes open all the time but my brain wasn't seeing a thing. I think it went into shock and focused on keeping my faculties functioning until landing!
The landing was a standing landing and was executed with no problem. It was an experience. It took me a day to really sink in and it's given me more confidence in myself. I can do anything! I achieved something that I have wanted to experience for a lot of years. I need to do more things like this!
Next stop was a country pub for a large glass of ice cold Rose. Sitting in the sunshine in the peace and quiet of the countryside having just fallen from 15,000ft at a very high speed. A little peice of heaven (and better than the heaven I could have been in had things gone wrong!).
xoxo
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)