I've become quite partial to a vintage flea. Plus I adore Abbeydale Picture House so I always enjoy a couple of hours mooching about the stalls.
This time it had the added benefit of hosting 1980s themed fashion shows. I don't think I ever expected to be explaining puffball skirts and shoulder pads to my daughters - which was weird enough - but them being fascinated and almost impressed was even more bizarre. Their faces were a picture - they looked like they had landed on Mars.
We sorted through the frocks, maps, crockery, jewellery and biscuit tins. We drooled over vinyl and enjoyed Whirlow Farm lunch. If I could have got away with a glass of prosecco believe me I would have done.
An extra joy was bumping into people I know. Students from theatre school, my singing lady friend who collects beaded evening bags, stall holders from my Barefoot days and gorgeous flamboyant people I hadn't met yet dressed in 1950s dresses and three piece suits (shopping for a chair for their tattoo parlour). It doesn't get more eclectic than that. It's a community I like being a very small part of.
So I'd recommend a mooch. It's £2 to get in and you have the added joy of seeing this stunning picture house which one day I hope will be returned to its former glory. It's musty and dishevelled, broken and beautiful and full to the rafters of fabulous people. Plus I expect you will come home with something you didn't know you needed...
Sunday, 27 September 2015
Wednesday, 23 September 2015
Musical Instruments
Advice for parents of children who are in the early days of playing a musical instrument:
1. Paying for your child to play an instrument is a good thing.
2. Brace yourself. There will be screaming.
3. You will have to join in and play terribly to show the child that they are way better at the instrument than you. Not difficult in my case for the clarinet.
4. The noise is a challenge.
5. Paying for your child to play an instrument is a good thing.
6. Your child may not be thanking you for encouraging them to practice but...well they aren't thanking you. In fact no-one is.
7. Very occasionally your child will achieve something cool and they will smile. This is rare and the only positive you will see for several weeks so grasp onto it.
5. Paying for your child to play an instrument is a good thing. Really it is.
1. Paying for your child to play an instrument is a good thing.
2. Brace yourself. There will be screaming.
3. You will have to join in and play terribly to show the child that they are way better at the instrument than you. Not difficult in my case for the clarinet.
4. The noise is a challenge.
5. Paying for your child to play an instrument is a good thing.
6. Your child may not be thanking you for encouraging them to practice but...well they aren't thanking you. In fact no-one is.
7. Very occasionally your child will achieve something cool and they will smile. This is rare and the only positive you will see for several weeks so grasp onto it.
5. Paying for your child to play an instrument is a good thing. Really it is.
40
So we are officially 40. I say 'we' because you may not be aware that my husband and I share our birthday. Yeah I know, isn't that unusual? It is. Although having spent the first 21 years of my life sharing my birthday with my dad, I was greatly surprised by yet another person entitled to slices of cake.
I actually liked sharing my birthday this year. After about 3 years of fluctuating midlife crises I think I've finally accepted that 40 will be ok. And sharing that special event with my husband couldn't be much better really. Plus we were very grown up and talked about it properly this time giving the kids lots to do - I baked the cake with them (it was awful) and he made breakfast with them (which was lovely).
We also had a party. This was a child free, friends party with lots of cocktails. Which also means we get to celebrate with family in due course. I do like a drawn out celebration.
We haven't had a house party in years. I won't bore you with details but it made us both very happy. Very old friends travelled to see us. They know who they are - I won't go on but I did cry.
My singing friends even sang with me, giving up their time and being brave enough to face a crowd of drunken revellers. We had juggling, blindfold origami, magic, a self penned comic song and everyone (well almost everyone) learned a song acapella, led by my brilliant singing teacher and friend. One of my friends even learned to play Waterloo on the recorder although she only displayed this to private audiences. The chiminea got a bit hot and there was pina colada on tap. Not bad really.
So this post is to say thank you to my friends - for celebrating with us. We are extremely lucky to have you in our lives.
Now back to planning a lovely celebratory lunch with family. I rather like this 40th birthday thing. Even if I do have to share it.
We also had a party. This was a child free, friends party with lots of cocktails. Which also means we get to celebrate with family in due course. I do like a drawn out celebration.
My singing friends even sang with me, giving up their time and being brave enough to face a crowd of drunken revellers. We had juggling, blindfold origami, magic, a self penned comic song and everyone (well almost everyone) learned a song acapella, led by my brilliant singing teacher and friend. One of my friends even learned to play Waterloo on the recorder although she only displayed this to private audiences. The chiminea got a bit hot and there was pina colada on tap. Not bad really.
So this post is to say thank you to my friends - for celebrating with us. We are extremely lucky to have you in our lives.
Now back to planning a lovely celebratory lunch with family. I rather like this 40th birthday thing. Even if I do have to share it.
Tuesday, 22 September 2015
Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time
I wasn't entirely sure of this if I am honest, simply because I saw the National Theatre Live version last year and despite it being a cinema link up I was blown away. It seemed unlikely that the show at the Lyceum could have the same impact.
But in spite of the set and the script not being a surprise I still adored it. The choreography is beyond words and that coupled with superb acting and innovative projection conveyed a real feeling of the sensory overload autism can bring.
The play is about a fifteen year old boy with autism who discovers the murder of his neighbour's dog and sets about solving the crime. Although of course it is really about human relationships, disability and connection. Half way through I was desperate to hug my children at the thought of not being able to.
The cast must be mentioned - Joshua Jenkins was stunning as Christopher and the supporting cast were all memorable and comedic. Their energy, timing and focus was incredible.
But the set designers have to share the limelight. This show is nothing like you have seen before. Unless you've seen it before. But even if you have, go again.
Brilliant.
But in spite of the set and the script not being a surprise I still adored it. The choreography is beyond words and that coupled with superb acting and innovative projection conveyed a real feeling of the sensory overload autism can bring.
The play is about a fifteen year old boy with autism who discovers the murder of his neighbour's dog and sets about solving the crime. Although of course it is really about human relationships, disability and connection. Half way through I was desperate to hug my children at the thought of not being able to.
The cast must be mentioned - Joshua Jenkins was stunning as Christopher and the supporting cast were all memorable and comedic. Their energy, timing and focus was incredible.
But the set designers have to share the limelight. This show is nothing like you have seen before. Unless you've seen it before. But even if you have, go again.
Brilliant.
Friday, 4 September 2015
Gin Fest
The taxi driver was confused when I said I was going to a gin festival. I suppose it isn't your usual Friday night out.
When I was at university the twelfth gin made me cry. But that was terrible gin and, well it probably wasn't twelve since I usually lost count around six.
I don't drink gin in excess anymore. A beverage that I associate with weeping isn't usually my first choice. Although I do really really like it. It reminds me of trips to the pub with my friends at 21. And Christmas.
So when my friend asked me to drink gin on a Friday night I jumped at the chance. A night out with a very good friend and the chance to drink gin, listen to music and try to stay vertical? What's not to like.
I didn't realise there were over 100 types of gin. I also hadn't fully appreciated how many types of gin cocktails there are. It's mind boggling.
In case you, like my taxi driver, are wondering what happens at a gin festival it's essentially as follows. You buy tokens (4 for £20). You then flick through the brochure of too many gins to comprehend and randomly pick one. You then drink it and go and get another one. Then you drink gin and tonic with gin flavoured ice cream in it through a straw. Then you drink some gin cocktails. You also watch hipsters and ladies in 1950s frocks. And you try not to fall over.
What I learnt was, well I still like gin, Especially good gin (Sir Robin of Locksley is fab and I failed to remember any of the others I tried.). I also learnt that palma violet flavoured gin is just plain wrong.
Great night.
When I was at university the twelfth gin made me cry. But that was terrible gin and, well it probably wasn't twelve since I usually lost count around six.
I don't drink gin in excess anymore. A beverage that I associate with weeping isn't usually my first choice. Although I do really really like it. It reminds me of trips to the pub with my friends at 21. And Christmas.
So when my friend asked me to drink gin on a Friday night I jumped at the chance. A night out with a very good friend and the chance to drink gin, listen to music and try to stay vertical? What's not to like.
I didn't realise there were over 100 types of gin. I also hadn't fully appreciated how many types of gin cocktails there are. It's mind boggling.
In case you, like my taxi driver, are wondering what happens at a gin festival it's essentially as follows. You buy tokens (4 for £20). You then flick through the brochure of too many gins to comprehend and randomly pick one. You then drink it and go and get another one. Then you drink gin and tonic with gin flavoured ice cream in it through a straw. Then you drink some gin cocktails. You also watch hipsters and ladies in 1950s frocks. And you try not to fall over.
What I learnt was, well I still like gin, Especially good gin (Sir Robin of Locksley is fab and I failed to remember any of the others I tried.). I also learnt that palma violet flavoured gin is just plain wrong.
Great night.
Monday, 31 August 2015
Summer's Over
Well that's that then. The summer holidays are over - well one more day for the girls but I'm back to work properly tomorrow. Plus it's raining and I have a blinking hoody on.
All in all it's been really good this year. I feel like we have properly seen friends and family we haven't seen in far too long, and had a real mix of adventures along the way. Plus our holiday this year didn't involve the need for central heating in August so that's a step up.
On top of all that the latest sticker chart is making some headway into teaching the girls not to be downright rude to each other all the time. Impressive since they don't know what is actually going to happen if they reach the end of it.
None of us want to go back to school. This term is often a challenging one for me. I start in September enthusiastically - ironing polo shirts and going for a run. I finish in October scrabbling around for clean socks and eating an entire packet of hobnobs while watching back to back rom coms.
I also always set myself up to fail. I see September the same way I see January - time for a new start. I always embark on something that I can't achieve. A diet, an exercise regime, an over planned and over filled social calendar, plans for a clean cooker - that kind of thing.
I'd like to say I have learnt from my mistakes and am approaching it differently this time but Ive bought new notebooks which is always a bad sign. There is already a timetable for exercise and cleaning at draft stage. Doomed to fail as usual.
But one thing is for sure I am going to write. I've been finding it hard to blog of late. Maybe things haven't been funny enough. Certainly the idea of blogging about nice days out as a National Trust member doesn't really float my creative boat. Life going fairly well just isn't that interesting perhaps. Or maybe I've just been too damned tired and a bit too focused on catching up with Homeland.
Whatever the case, here is me getting back to it. I might find time to backwards blog about a few holiday things but I'm not committing. I'll start with going forwards.
All in all it's been really good this year. I feel like we have properly seen friends and family we haven't seen in far too long, and had a real mix of adventures along the way. Plus our holiday this year didn't involve the need for central heating in August so that's a step up.
On top of all that the latest sticker chart is making some headway into teaching the girls not to be downright rude to each other all the time. Impressive since they don't know what is actually going to happen if they reach the end of it.
None of us want to go back to school. This term is often a challenging one for me. I start in September enthusiastically - ironing polo shirts and going for a run. I finish in October scrabbling around for clean socks and eating an entire packet of hobnobs while watching back to back rom coms.
I also always set myself up to fail. I see September the same way I see January - time for a new start. I always embark on something that I can't achieve. A diet, an exercise regime, an over planned and over filled social calendar, plans for a clean cooker - that kind of thing.
I'd like to say I have learnt from my mistakes and am approaching it differently this time but Ive bought new notebooks which is always a bad sign. There is already a timetable for exercise and cleaning at draft stage. Doomed to fail as usual.
But one thing is for sure I am going to write. I've been finding it hard to blog of late. Maybe things haven't been funny enough. Certainly the idea of blogging about nice days out as a National Trust member doesn't really float my creative boat. Life going fairly well just isn't that interesting perhaps. Or maybe I've just been too damned tired and a bit too focused on catching up with Homeland.
Whatever the case, here is me getting back to it. I might find time to backwards blog about a few holiday things but I'm not committing. I'll start with going forwards.
Tuesday, 7 July 2015
Grade 1
It was T's first guitar exam today. It took me back if I'm honest. Although I seem to remember crossing a huge floor clutching my music in a dramatic fashion, rather than sitting in someone's living room - someone who judging by her cabinet has a penchant for Terry Pratchett novels. This is how they do it these days apparently.
She wanted to do Grade 1 and I didn't see any harm. Until I found out how much it was. Then I noticed the significant upper cut to my finances. We paid for the exam, and the required music book. Then I found out it was in the middle of a working/school day. Brilliant. It also clashed with a school trip which was irritating but saved me £7.50 there - every cloud - but I'm still somewhat in deficit. It would have been even more money if she needed an accompanist (I'm rethinking P's desire to play clarinet...).
We arrived at a terraced house in Sheffield nearly bursting into some poor boy's violin exam by accident. We entered a room with about ten chairs in it (along with a table and cabinet full of Pratchett novels).
A lady bustled in and said "Right then. Get your instrument out and tune it." A little optimistic surely for a 9 year old to tune her own guitar adequately. The woman bustled out of the room and someone's dad said it sounded alright to him, which I took to be positive enough. I told Tilly I thought she should be warming up and another mum said she could go in the kitchen (which had a keyboard in it, as you do) and shut the door. A little harsh surely. She hadn't even heard her play.
After a while the bustling lady reappeared and Tilly tried out a number of chairs in a style reminiscent of Goldilocks. The first one was too high. The second, well I pointed out that having wheels wasn't a great plan. The third was actually a rocking stool. I can't imagine that ever being useful especially during a music exam. She plumped for the too high one.
I had decided that the bustling lady was clearly something to do with the exam. She asked "Are we on pitch?" Tilly hadn't got a clue what she was going on about and I lost myself for a moment imagining guitar playing in the goal at Bramall Lane.
Bustling lady, who still hadn't actually introduced herself, then retrieved a tuning fork from her handbag. She told me she was once stopped at airport security for carrying it in her hand luggage.
The tuning process took quite some minutes and for once in my life I found myself wishing I'd brought the iPad with me to use an app.
Tilly was asked to play her pieces but was highly confused and started to wonder if she was being examined already. She was still sitting on the wheelie chair and it wasn't helping her performance.
Eventually she went into the examiner and I had a nice chat with bustling woman. She asked me for help finding a postcode of (according to Zoopla) a very expensive house in Surrey. She recalled her own guitar exam experience from years ago. And she listened to her answer phone message - apparently her friend has a dentist appointment and can't meet her for lunch this week. All the time I could hear Tilly playing, clapping and singing through the living room wall. Which presumably means Tilly knows all about her lunch plans too.
I asked how long the results would be and was told anywhere between 5 days and 6 weeks. I don't even know where to begin with this statement.
Tilly was fine when she came out. She thinks she's passed and wonders if we can go out for dinner if she gets full marks (she doesn't think this is likely). I said we could go out to dinner whatever but the size of the ice cream is dependent on the mark she gets. She knows I'm joking.
So. Expensive, inconvenient, a bit bonkers. I wonder if we'll have to do another one...
She wanted to do Grade 1 and I didn't see any harm. Until I found out how much it was. Then I noticed the significant upper cut to my finances. We paid for the exam, and the required music book. Then I found out it was in the middle of a working/school day. Brilliant. It also clashed with a school trip which was irritating but saved me £7.50 there - every cloud - but I'm still somewhat in deficit. It would have been even more money if she needed an accompanist (I'm rethinking P's desire to play clarinet...).
We arrived at a terraced house in Sheffield nearly bursting into some poor boy's violin exam by accident. We entered a room with about ten chairs in it (along with a table and cabinet full of Pratchett novels).
A lady bustled in and said "Right then. Get your instrument out and tune it." A little optimistic surely for a 9 year old to tune her own guitar adequately. The woman bustled out of the room and someone's dad said it sounded alright to him, which I took to be positive enough. I told Tilly I thought she should be warming up and another mum said she could go in the kitchen (which had a keyboard in it, as you do) and shut the door. A little harsh surely. She hadn't even heard her play.
After a while the bustling lady reappeared and Tilly tried out a number of chairs in a style reminiscent of Goldilocks. The first one was too high. The second, well I pointed out that having wheels wasn't a great plan. The third was actually a rocking stool. I can't imagine that ever being useful especially during a music exam. She plumped for the too high one.
I had decided that the bustling lady was clearly something to do with the exam. She asked "Are we on pitch?" Tilly hadn't got a clue what she was going on about and I lost myself for a moment imagining guitar playing in the goal at Bramall Lane.
Bustling lady, who still hadn't actually introduced herself, then retrieved a tuning fork from her handbag. She told me she was once stopped at airport security for carrying it in her hand luggage.
The tuning process took quite some minutes and for once in my life I found myself wishing I'd brought the iPad with me to use an app.
Tilly was asked to play her pieces but was highly confused and started to wonder if she was being examined already. She was still sitting on the wheelie chair and it wasn't helping her performance.
Eventually she went into the examiner and I had a nice chat with bustling woman. She asked me for help finding a postcode of (according to Zoopla) a very expensive house in Surrey. She recalled her own guitar exam experience from years ago. And she listened to her answer phone message - apparently her friend has a dentist appointment and can't meet her for lunch this week. All the time I could hear Tilly playing, clapping and singing through the living room wall. Which presumably means Tilly knows all about her lunch plans too.
I asked how long the results would be and was told anywhere between 5 days and 6 weeks. I don't even know where to begin with this statement.
Tilly was fine when she came out. She thinks she's passed and wonders if we can go out for dinner if she gets full marks (she doesn't think this is likely). I said we could go out to dinner whatever but the size of the ice cream is dependent on the mark she gets. She knows I'm joking.
So. Expensive, inconvenient, a bit bonkers. I wonder if we'll have to do another one...
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