Monday, 1 December 2008

Travelling to Faraway Places

Next July I am going to travel all the way to China (Shanghai) to get a boat to play around on the sea specially to be in the right place to see a rather special total eclipse of the sun. (I apologise about my carbon footprint, I could have travelled all the way by train, but I have commitments each side of the trip which means I don't have time).
I hope that the ship will have special advisors on it to help me get decent pictures of it. Last tiem one was visible from the UK the sky clouded over and we couldn't see it. What a let down! This time I am spending my entire year's spending money on getting to see it properly. It should be wonderful.

But I am a bit concerned about the manner of my travelling. This is taking place as part of a cruise, and I have not cruised before. It has been arranged for me to share a cabin with a complete stranger (same sex) to save having to pay ridiculous single person supplement. I hope she likes me. I hope I like her. These things cannot be guaranteed. But more than that, I hope I am not bored silly by being on the same boat with the same people for a week. The scenery will change, since we are visiting Japan and, I think Taiwan, but the people will be the same.

And, faced with meals on tap all day and night, am I going to be able to eat sensible and not too much? How unpopular will I make myself with others when it is discovered I barely drink alcohol at all? It's a new kind of travelling for me, and I am already excited . . .and a little bit scared.

diannadollhouses.co.uk

Speaking English

I'm from the UK. 'That's nice', I hear you say, or 'So What?'. I grant you, it's not enough simply to announce that and stop. I'm from the UK and -
  • proud of it
  • unrepentant
  • sometimes a bit embarrassed
  • I don't bite
  • I speak English

Now when I say I speak English I mean English English, not Singapore English of American English, nor Australian English. The English I speak is the Mother Tongue - a wonderful bastard language made up from every conceivable root language and freely given to anyone who wants to speak it. Canadians speak wonderful English too, and the Scots, who have a perfectly good, well-developed language of their own, also speak it, some more accurately than those of us who live in England.

Yes, everyone, well, nearly everyone, speaks English. But can you spell it? No. Can the average English person spell the language? No. Can we pronounce our own language - well, not all of us. There are many variations across a tiny little land mass. From simple differences like the north v south vowel differences so beloved by comedians - you know, 'bath' and 'barth' for a place we get clean in, to the simply inexcusable inability to pronounce 'pronunciation' which has never had a second 'o' and therefore isn't pronounced like 'pronounc i a tion', English is a language full of pitfalls for the unwary.

I cannot imagine how people whose first language is not English ever get close to getting it right, but they do. I speak two or three languages inadequately, and English really well - while there are incomers to the UK who speak, for example, German, Czech, French, Polish and English. And we regularly winge because they don't get it quite right when they are doing all the jobs in our houses that no-one else wants to do, or doesn't want a fools ransom for.

Love my language. There's nothing like it. But I will be eternally grateful that I was born to it. I might never have got to first base if I had started with French!

Have you seen this weather?

I'm from the UK. Born and bred here. And I have a wonderful tolerance for weather - whatever it sends. If it's sunny and warm (not this year then) I wear as little as possible, stay out of the sun and swim whenever I can.
When it's cloudy and damp (but not yet raining) I walk, cycle, shop, and listen to people moaning about it.
When it chucks it down with rain I more or less continue with the usual things, and listen to people moaning about it.
Icy mornings find me scraping the ice off the windscreen and . . . . .moaning about it.
When the snow falls we all get a bit crazy for an hour or two and play in it - and THEN we have a good moan.
When we get the occasional flood it's always the worst since who-knows-when? and a hurricane is unheard of and the worst since who-knows-when? Or, of course, it's hitherto unheard of weather, like we never have weather at all.
So, we have awful weather. But people keep pouring into our country, wanting to live and work here, or simply visiting it before they have to go home and settle down to being grownup (and warm and living next to the sea and surfing - like the Aussies).
Can't be that awful then.

Living

I've made the decision. 120 is my aim. I cannot think of any reason I shouldn't get there and that's my goal.What can I do to facilitate this? Well, doing lots of interesting things is a start. I'm certainly not going to die of boredom. Not me. Exhaustion maybe, but boredom - never! Let's just look at a typical day this week. What will I be doing Thursday? Morning, catch up with emails, check my eBay account, post off anything paid for, check my bank account online to see what's come in. Try really hard to buy nothing on eBay. Do a bit on the current dolls' house project. Study a bit: there's such a lot to learn about this online business stuff.
Lunch - something easy to prepare and cook. Then some more work online, maybe a bit of blogging, follow up yesterdays' study notes.
Prepare lesson plans for the Theatre School sessions between 4.15 and 6. Print off, or write out some options for activities.
Shower. Yes, I know maybe I should have started with this but I want to be sparkling for this evening. Put some smart clothes in a bag and get dressed in some drama-teacher type clothes.
3.45 Drive to the other side of town and do the teaching. Tonight is open evening and parents will be watching me (and their little dears) like a hawk to see what we're at.
Immediately after the sessions drive to the station, change outfit in the car and take the train to London for the Press Night of 'Maria Friedman Rearranged' with Naomi, my grand-daughter. Her dad (my son) is the bass player in the band and her mum has another gig so I'm needed to take her because she's only 9. I've already seen the show: it's great.
After the show take her home because her dad's got another late jazz gig, and get myself back to the station to get home. Who knows what time that will be? At least on a Thursday there will be less drunks than on a Friday night.
Bored? Me? Never.


Interested in my dolls' house shop? Go here: www.diannadollhouses.c.o.uk

Getting my Toes Wet

Metaphorically speaking, I'm not very good at getting my toes wet. While as brave as a lion (actually - bad -lions don't care for water, but I'm a Leo so. ..) in water, when I am asked to venture forth and wave my ideas in the air I get scared. So to go so comprehensively public as making a blog is, well, that's very daring for me. But there are so many things I'm interested in. It's not just my dolls' house shop (which you could find by following the link at the end of this). I love all things dolls' house - no, I don't play with them, I build them, and the furniture that goes into them. I'm also a compulsive buyer of things dolls' house and have a person's house which is rapidly filling up.
But I also love theatre, music, my family (dammit, not in that order!), reading books, handcrafts of all kinds, writing poetry and TRAVEL. I love travelling (for the Americans around here, that's how we spell 'traveling'). I'm seldom happier than when on the move, particularly if my journey is by train. I like meeting people and I like living alone.
My newest obsession/concern as I enter the second half of my sixties is that of society's attitude to ageing. Ageing seems to be viewed as a sort of disease, to be suffered, and perhaps ridiculed from time-to-time. Some stand-up comedians seem to think that jokes about smells of spilled urine around older people are really hip. They're not. And neither are those about hip replacements - to pun a bit. We. the older members of today's society have every right to be here, are learning to enjoy ourselves, sometimes on the free local buses at the taxpayers' expense, but more often using our own savings to finance a taste for travel.
No, I am not spending the kids inheritance - I am spending my own money. And I am spending it how I want. If I want to spend money on setting up a website or two, so what? This is such powerful fun - I can't get enough of it. What a way to live.

Sunday, 30 November 2008

Trying Something New

I love the Internet. It has opened doors and windows on the wider world which have completely transformed my life. I love the fact that I can look something up - a fact, a travel route, an author's name, a political speech, and find whatever I want in practically no time at all.
When I was growing up it meant a trip to the library, which was a twenty-minute walk across town. Not that i am decrying libraries. I loved them then and I love them now. But it is wonderful to have all this stuff at my fingertips.
When I plan a holiday now I use the net. I prebook an airport hotel so my first jet-lagged night somewhere is more comfortable. I look up where the Backpackers hostels are for further nights, make lists, print things, find out more about the place I am going. Most cities have down-loadable guides, which usually include some freeby, or reduced price stuff. I never go without looking at those now.
My flights are almost always booked on the net now, too. I can spend a little time comparing prices, can laugh hollowly at some and search for other, cheaper options. It takes time, but if it works right I have myself to thank, and if I get it wrong - well, it's much easier to forgive yourself than others, isn't it?
I bank online, order clothes online, buy books online. I wouldn't dream of buying insurance any other way, and I download all that lovely software that freely allows me to learn more and do more with the net. I send dozens of emails and get scores back. My spam trap always has someone in it trying to get me to give away my hard-earned cash, or to sell me pieces of equipment that, as a woman, I would have no need for. But that's what a spam trap is for - and sometimes, just sometimes, a friend gets caught in it by changing their address - so I have to fish them out and change my records.
I don't think the 20th. Century had a greater technical advance than the Internet. Yes it was pretty good getting to the moon, television was a wonderful advance, but this Internet thing is just the best thing - and it's still developing and will do so as this century unfolds.
I shan't stop going to the library. But I think I will have to stop buying reference books. Why would I need them any more. Let's hear it for the Internet.

Getting Old(er)

I suppose by many people's counting, I am getting old. I have a free bus-pass which you cannot have until you are more than 60, and I didn't get it this year. But it really is different being 60+ nowadays. When my Grandmother was 60 she astounded everyone by insisting on continuing to play tennis - but she really was the exception. All around her, her contemporaries were sitting down and getting old. By 65, many of the men of her generation were dead - those who hadn't fallen on one of two World Wars, that is. Grandma was a widow for 50 years, and she certainly seemed to be a 'Merry Widow' in the true sense of the phrase. She traveled all over the place, by land, sea and air, and only began to settle after she fell down the stairs of a bus in her early nineties (she was going upstairs for a fag - you could do that then) When, at about 95 her marbles became a bit loose, it was certainly not premature senility- by that age you have earned the right to be senile.
My mother lived to be old, though she was not adventurous like her mother, and she succumbed earlier to senility. Nevertheless, she made it to 96 before shuffling off. I have uncles (well, had) who lived into their nineties, and my paternal grandfather lived to be very old as well.
So I'm not thinking of going yet. With medicine at its highest level of development ever (it's not going to get worse, is it?) I can expect to live well beyond 100. Many more people are doing so. It is nothing exceptional now for men to live into their nineties, and for women to exceed 100.
So I'm going for 120. I am very careful crossing the road, and I don't overdo anything. I gave up smoking over a quarter of a century ago, don't drink to excess and don't have the money (nor the inclination) for drugs.
I do travel a lot, but less and less by air, as it becomes obvious that planes are guzzling more fossil fuels than they are worth. And I have something on my side which other, younger travellers do not. I have plenty of time to take a slow route to somewhere. Last December I travelled to Northern Sweden, above the Arctic Circle, entirely by train. It took over two days and was a wonderful journey, even though some of it was done without the sun coming up at all. I'm going to do a lot more of that in the next few years. I've promised myself.