Longer Time

Nearly two weeks away, I've actually really missed writing this, and have felt very guilty for not doing so. A sister with a computer and an internet connection is a very useful thing, and I didn't even have to bribe her. Life, of course, got in the way, as it should sometimes. Journey home was good, I treated myself to sweets, and unfortunately have continued treating myself for the last week. That's the problem with coming home, there is plenty of food on offer, and especially at Christmas, tins of quality street seem to magically appear as do boxes of biscuits and tubes of crisps. Very, very bad for the someone on the calorie wagon.

Even worse, figure wise that is, is the amount of books I have had time to read. I've recently re-discovered the pleasure of a library, rather than the necessity of one, and have borrowed and devoured a huge amount of books. I've remembered how much I love reading just as a pleasure. Even if the library books in some cases were slightly suspiciously stained and faintly unusual smelling. It's part of the experience though. Books, chocolate and a warm bed, bliss.

It's always a slightly melancholy time, the end days of December as the light fades on another year. As I get older, there are more years to look back on and to marvel at how long ago somethings were in real time, but not in remembered time. Anniversaries come with a shock. Nearly 2008, ten years ago, I couldn't quite believe it was 1998. Strangely enough, I was new at university then, and find myself again this time round the same. There's a saying for that somewhere, but I'll leave it unsaid.

Pen and paper calls for the next week or more, sister is away (so unfair) so no computer. I'll enjoy life some more, and bid another year farewell.

Long Time

Seems like a very long time that I've been away, a week in fact. And I've actually missed writing this. It felt like I'd been getting into a rhythm, daily writing, and it was very strange, and almost rule-breaking not to write it for the last few days. Work had got in the way. Finally though, all is handed in and even now handed back! Portfolios did well, and I was pleased. Relief is definitely there, but a little bit of regret, for now the term is truly finished. A whole term, it has gone so fast. It seems hardly any time that I was making my way down the M5 not quite knowing what to expect. Soon I shall be driving back up knowing a lot more than I did.

So the last few days have felt rather empty. Without a routine I've felt a bit bored and at times lonely. But those of us still hanging around in Falmouth have met up and I'm out for tea tonight, at Jacob's Ladder last night. I took myself off to Trebah gardens yesterday which was beautiful, amazing primeval ferns and giant rhubarb plants, then stacks of bamboo, and trickling streams through fairy glens, and then suddenly the sea! Bitterly cold, but wonderful.

I've kept myself here a bit longer to see some more sights - Mousehole on Sunday to see the Christmas lights, and it's somewhere I've wanted to go for a long time, and I needed to do an extra days tutoring for a little more cash. Money again, always a problem. December has been an expensive month; having to buy a new cooker did not help, plus there was a parking fine, grr, which I tried protesting against, but the constabulary were unmoved by my use of a classically structured argument, so another £30. What a waste.

I will catch up with this over the next couple of days I'm here. Swimming and baking scones beckon, as well as a bowl of lentil soup against the cold.

Rivers of ink

To go with the forests of paper that I have been using. I will be so glad when Friday is done and all my work is handed in. Maybe I'll be able to sleep, and not lie awake, wild eyed for hours wondering if I should include my Little Red Riding Hood story, or substitute it for my Hamlet Character Tragedy. As soon as I squash those thoughts, more worries fizz up about whether I've offended people. My housemate was very quiet this evening, so I was concerned I'd perhaps offended her by not putting my dishes away. Or was it because I used her washing up water? It is of course a very arrogant thing worrying that you've offended someone, just because they're a bit quiet. I'm sure there are far more things than my dishes or me that she could have been thinking about. Anyway...
She very kindly offered me the bowl of chocolate frosting she had been using to ice muffins the other day to finish off. She knows my sweet tooth far too well. I pretended I really wasn't bothered about it, and casually said 'Oh no, I'll just have a little taste, then wash the bowl out' I waited until she had left the kitchen, then dived into the bowl and made myself feel sick by eating a few spoonfuls of white chocolate frosting. Oh but it was sweet, so sweet. And pink, strangely enough. No wonder I didn't sleep that night either with a bloodstream full of sugar and colourings.
I now have my website pretty much up and running, hoorary! With a very tasteful picture of a beach at the top which I like to think conveys an image of me as somewhat serious and thoughtful, fond of wandering along beaches, cutting a fascinating and brooding figure as I ponder amongst the rock pools. Though stamping along the sand and splashing about in the sea in flower patterned wellies is closer to the truth.

Funny stuff

I was reading someone else's blog, who took this course last year, and realised that my own effort seems quite dull in comparison. I haven't put much variety into it. Not much humour has come through, even though there has been lots that I've laughed at - certain people's obsessions with blood and heaving bosoms being one thing... It comes down I think still to my own self-consciousness at writing this. I'm more relaxed about putting my thoughts down into an open arena, I think. What I didn't set out to do, which I think some people have , is to create a persona. What is written is what is thought. The blog is just a snapshot of life here. Sometimes I forget things; sometimes I write about trivia; sometimes there is definitely too much self-analysis, but I'm working on it. I have chosen to write my blog as myself. What I have, what is here, is about the life someone who has moved 350 miles into a completely different life, and to a great extent a completely different culture. There is a world of difference between the terraced streets of Tranmere, Birkenhead and the High Street of Falmouth. Good differences though: after a term of much reflection and doubts and worrying, I'm glad I came. The problem is that old thing of worrying that I haven't written what someone else has written - writers' envy. You need as a writer to look at other people's work and use it to reflect on your own, but you still need to hang onto what you have written yourself and see that it has value also. You can still do that and take on board good criticism and editing.
Nothing funny as yet has happened today. I didn't even giggle as I was reading my work out, which, embarrassingly I have done the last few weeks, I think it's nervous laughter. What will be funny soon though is when Carlo (who writes about heaving bosoms) and I (who do not have heaving bosoms anymore - they shrank after dieting) attempt to write a Mills and Boon novel...

Paper

In the last few weeks alone, never mind the whole term, several trees must have passed through my printer. At this time, we are frantically preparing to hand in portfolios of our work for the term. Fierce debate rages in the library over whether we need two copies of everything, or just one; do we include a bibliography or not?; should we fill in a separate Critical Rationale for each piece, or use one for for all pieces? My head hurts.
I'm also now very stressed as in the flush of getting things done in advance, and printing a lot of stuff out already, I realise that I'm not happy with everything, some pieces have page numbers, others don't, and I've made a dreadful mistake in the title of some pieces. So I will have to start all over again. More paper.
So I've just wasted a few minutes taking an IQ test on facebook, which gave me a good result at least. Definitely felt the pressure of time ticking though, it's been a while since I've done a timed test. But teaching verbal reasoning as I do now and again gave me a distinct advantage I feel. I have a certain arrogance and insecurity about IQ test though, and in general, I hate to fail!
It's been a busy weekend, but a good one. Got work done, and ticked a couple more things off my 'to do' list. I also did some more baking with one of my housemates and we had a very comfortable afternoon buying ingredients and then making biscuits. I made cherry biscuits, recipe as follows: 40z butter / margarine; a tablespoon of syrup; 20z chopped glace cherries; 60z self-raising flour; 4oz soft brown sugar. Cream the butter and sugar, then add the syrup; mix in half the flour, add the cherries, then mix in the rest of the flour. You should have a smooth dough. Shape into 12 balls and place on a lined baking tray. Gas Mark 4 for approximately 12 minutes. Our gas cooker is rather slow, so we turned it up to mark 6. Electric oven will be about 15 - 180 Celsius. It makes a lovely chewy biscuit, perfect for dunking. There's nothing better on a winter evening. Ah well, back to the paper and the felling of trees.

Forgotten things

I have been thinking back over the last week or so, and what I have entered here, and I realised that I had missed a few things: it bothered me in the way that this blog is in part a diary of my time here in Falmouth, I want it to be a part of my memories here, and so I want to put record my experiences. Thursday last week (the 22nd November) for instance, I went to my first Thanksgiving party. It was hosted by an American friend on the course, and most of us went along. Not without some misgivings on my part anyway: Thanksgiving is something I was a little uneasy about; having in mind images of the Pilgrim Fathers and what subsequently happened to the Native Americans. However, what it turned out to be was a meeting of friends; a very social event and another chance to discover each other away from the course. It is in America a family holiday, and perhaps more considered than Christmas. Our Falmouth Thanksgiving was unique and was about our friendship, fun, music from all those who play instruments and because a good majority of us are vegetarians (I'm a very bad vegetarian as I eat fish, and have leather boots) quorn turkey sandwiches and mushroom roast. Delicious.
There seems to be a theme running through these entries. Another permutation of the blog, a diary and an exploration of what happens. A dominant theme seems to be food - recipes, lack of, too much. I'm sure I don't think that much about food. Or maybe I do. Since losing weight, which now seems to be a defining feature of my life, it has become something I'm more thoughtful about. Since becoming a student again, it has also had to be carefully budgeted for, and I have once again become expert at making the most of very little: using up odds and ends in soup, entirely giving up ready meals and being constantly on the hunt for reduced items. I like the challenge.
Writing this blog, still very self-consciously, I feel like it has evolved from being purely an exercise form to a diary of sorts, to a theme, to my train of thought, and round again. It emerges each day differently, and still has no recognisable form. Maybe that doesn't matter though. Maybe too much time and thought can be spent introverted, worrying about what is being written. Perhaps all that needs to be said is that this is now a feature of my life; something that I do; another group I have joined - those who write blogs. It is still an identity I am settling into and exploring.

Clouds

Feel a day behind, as I didn't blog yesterday (is that really a verb?) so have cheated a little with two entries today. Sad to say, today has also been a day of spending money I really shouldn't and eating more rich food. I made pear and ginger crumble again last night, purely for the fruit portions of course. A very simple recipe: two tins of pears in juice, drained; 60z plain flour; 4oz golden sugar; 20z butter or margarine; 2 tsps of ginger. The crumble mix is very simple: using a fork, turn the margarine, flour and sugar into crumbs, or rub together in your fingers. Then empty the drained pears into an ovenproof dish, round or oval, approx. 12 inches across and 6 inches deep, sprinkle a little sugar and the ginger over this. You can add a little extra ginger to the crumble mixture. Spread the crumble mix over the pears evenly, and put in the middle of the oven. Gas mark 6, 200 Celsius. Check after half an hour, it may need a little longer, up to 45 minutes. Serve with cream or custard, perfect in the winter evenings, thought I must confess I had some for breakfast this morning.
I have also been reading, whilst eating my crumble, a wonderful book about cloud spotting. I bought it on a whim with a book token, and have been thrilled with it. It could become my new past time. Time to finish though before the library shut me down, and I am thrown out. work to be done still, and exercise. To be continued tomorrow, with a recipe for cherry biscuits.

Books

Friday 30th November. Thursday night late night shopping was lovely. My housemate and I jumped off the bus like excited children, but were due some early disappointment. It began with almost deserted streets in Falmouth, then as we wandered from Dorothy Perkins to Thorntons (bad move - bought chocolate) more people drifted onto the streets. The weather didn't help - damp and chilly, not the weather for shopping. But we persevered. The Bookshop provided us with a treat: a free glass of wine and a mince pie, I, unusually as I don't often drink, had a very small glass of red wine which was very nice, warming, but passed on the mince pie. We were in the book shop for a long time, breathing in the warmth and the wonderful scent of new books, crisp pages and soft, fresh covers. We also met a real life author, Philip Moran, who gave us each a little photo of the real 'Soggy the Bear' star of now two books. Soggy himself was also there in the fur and so I shook his paw. As we came out of the bookshop reluctantly, we were rewarded with a band and a parade of lanterns and children down the street. They were beautiful large paper ships and lanterns, lit from inside by candles. Brought down to real life somewhat by a man with a fire extinguisher close behind, but for a moment it was fairy like.
I enjoyed myself, and it was a lovely evening. One that you realise at the time it is passing that you will remember and smile at. We finished it off with a hugely indulgent meal out at Southside: I drank ginger beer and gorged on a bowl of hand cut chips, fantastic, dabbed with ketchup and a pizza. Oh, I felt so full, but it's good to indulge once in a while. Diet starts again very soon.
I ended the day at The Front with friends from the course: one playing on the open mic night. A day of good company.