Having spent most of Christmas indoors, cuddled up by my parents' wood-burning fireplace, I came back such a wuss that I couldn't sleep in my bed anymore without the heating on. I was permanently cold and boring, and felt very much like just sitting it out, hibernating until spring. But it only took one motivational blog article (*click*) to get me up on my feet again, go outside, and do winter.
30 December 2014
16 December 2014
Tap dance is boring
Not this one though:
Just watch the first 2 min and that should get you hooked. And that's even before the band starts playing.
Just watch the first 2 min and that should get you hooked. And that's even before the band starts playing.
14 December 2014
Adventuring
I'm in need of some adventuring. Any ideas?
This year, I did the following things which were new and exciting and at least a bit scary:
This year, I did the following things which were new and exciting and at least a bit scary:
- An intimate evening of reading poems to strangers
- Online dating - the second most terrifying thing I have ever done in my life
- Dance performances (*click*, *click*)
The previous year I also did some scary stuff:
Ideas for next year:
- Spending a night outside on a hill
- Starting a barbershop quartet
- Singing in a band
What interesting and scary things have you done this year?
12 December 2014
9 December 2014
On books
Book recommendations? Haven't done that before! I think I have just put too much on my plate when ordering War & Peace from the library while still fighting the whale that is Moby Dick.
27 November 2014
Argyll
Also, I spent a lovely weekend on the west coast with the best Scotland has to offer: Views of the calm sea and islands, sea lochs, sunny November days, sunsets and sunrises, and a Scotsman with a campervan who takes me to these places. It was stupidly beautiful. And I forgot to bring my camera.
Anyway, the Scotsman took a few pictures with his phone:
26 October 2014
Job hunting season
It's job hunting time again. So naturally, as serious business goes always hand in hand with serious procrastination, I have rediscovered my blog.
Here is a list of other things I do instead of writing job applications:
Here is a list of other things I do instead of writing job applications:
13 September 2014
Scotland Decides
Next week, Scotland decides whether it wants to be an independent country. Civil servants are subject to restrictions in what they can discuss in public about the referendum. Therefore, I can say little more than that it has been very interesting times, and that recent polls suggest a close decision. Find in this poll tracker (*click*) an overview of how Scottish public opinion has changed during the duration of the campaign, and watch the news on decision day - 18 September, and announcement day, 19 September 2014!
18 August 2014
Visit from Friends
Two people just rose a few places on my best friends list by bringing this:
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| Whisky liqueur made from 15 year old malt. |
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| My new besties :) |
16 August 2014
Highlights from my Iceland Trip
Highlight: River crossings.
Highlight: Great walks.
Highlight: The Reykjavik businessman who happily gave us a lift and a tour of the area.
Highlight: Great walks.
Highlight: The Reykjavik businessman who happily gave us a lift and a tour of the area.
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| One of many river crossings - photo taken by Daniel. |
29 July 2014
Rejection and Cake Day
I have meant to talk about rejection-and-cake-day for quite a while now but never got around it with all the festival shenanigans going on. So here it goes:
As part of the volunteering I was standing one Sunday on the Royal Mile for 4 hours handing out flyers. People avoided me and looked away when I was talking to them, as they always do when someone is handing out flyers. Well, some people did talk to me and were indeed very grateful about the information I could give them - some of it festival-related, a lot just directions. One guy asked where the nearest casino was. But of all the festival jobs I have done, flyering is usually annoying, boring, and soul-destroying, and can only be half fun at times when you are in a very chirpy mood and don't mind the rejection. I think I was in an alright mood, but then a boy cancelled a date we had arranged for that same evening and that was quite an accumulation of rejection which I wasn't ready for.
So I took a long coffee break, bitched a bit with other volunteers about the bossy venue managers, and went to a live gig in the Spiegeltent right after my shift. To be fair, getting stood up didn't come as a huge surprise, so I had brought my dancing shoes into town for plan B, the gig, where I knew I would find some other dancers. And I did, I had a great time, and all danced out I went to get another drink at a coffee stall, where I was given free cake! I shared it with friends, sitting outside in the beer garden on a mild evening, already reconciled with the day. And when I got home, my flatmate gave me more cake even before I told her all about cake-and-rejection-day!
As part of the volunteering I was standing one Sunday on the Royal Mile for 4 hours handing out flyers. People avoided me and looked away when I was talking to them, as they always do when someone is handing out flyers. Well, some people did talk to me and were indeed very grateful about the information I could give them - some of it festival-related, a lot just directions. One guy asked where the nearest casino was. But of all the festival jobs I have done, flyering is usually annoying, boring, and soul-destroying, and can only be half fun at times when you are in a very chirpy mood and don't mind the rejection. I think I was in an alright mood, but then a boy cancelled a date we had arranged for that same evening and that was quite an accumulation of rejection which I wasn't ready for.
So I took a long coffee break, bitched a bit with other volunteers about the bossy venue managers, and went to a live gig in the Spiegeltent right after my shift. To be fair, getting stood up didn't come as a huge surprise, so I had brought my dancing shoes into town for plan B, the gig, where I knew I would find some other dancers. And I did, I had a great time, and all danced out I went to get another drink at a coffee stall, where I was given free cake! I shared it with friends, sitting outside in the beer garden on a mild evening, already reconciled with the day. And when I got home, my flatmate gave me more cake even before I told her all about cake-and-rejection-day!
21 July 2014
No Need for a Helmet
I knew there were good reasons not to wear a bike helmet, apart from the ones I was already aware of: Helmets can ruin your hairstyle, helmets are just a another piece of gear when one already has to carry a lock, lights, and possibly tools, and serious bike accidents with head injuries are rare.
Helmets are also a disproportionate measure and fuel fear of cycling as set out in a blog post by Howie Chong (click):
Helmets are also a disproportionate measure and fuel fear of cycling as set out in a blog post by Howie Chong (click):
"If there was conclusive proof that bike helmets reduce the total number of serious head injuries compared to other normal activities, then I'd reconsider my stance. But if I'm not the kind of person who wears a helmet when I take a walk or get behind the wheel of a car, then there's no logic to me wearing one when I'm on a bike, particularly if I'm confident in my urban bike safety ability. Meanwhile the proof is pretty strong that vehicles give me more space when I'm biking without a helmet. In a city biking, that's the kind of injury I'm most concerned about. And I want to encourage more people to get on their bicycles, because the more cyclists are out on the road, the safer I'll be."
19 July 2014
Some Nuggets from the Edinburgh Jazz&Blues Festival
I am volunteering at the Edinburgh Jazz & Blues Festival again this year, and two days in there are already a handful of nuggets to report:
- I sold CDs for a band and was given one for free.
- I know a lot of the other volunteers from last year, but hadn't seen them all year. Nice reunions.
- Two days in, and I have already been to five gigs and the Mardi Gras outdoor party with four stages.
- When handing out programmes I ran into a friend from dancing and we spontaneously danced a bit to the band in the background and drew almost as much attention as the band.
- Together with three other volunteers, we held umbrellas over the members of a band who were playing outside in the rain. Of all the musicians I got the tallest one with the double bass. Holding up a brolly for half an hour is tiring.
- I met more dancers and danced in the rain.
- I was very strict with one band and told them they only had two more minutes, so they improvised a two-minute-blues about me :)
17 July 2014
Knoydart Adventure - Part 3
I decide to be sensible and go down the other side of the bealach, cross the river and walk along it until it meets a footpath and the original route. The descent is quite pleasant as there is no bracken here, it is less steep, and I sing Scottish folk songs and "Climb Ev'ry Mountain" from the film "The Sound of Music". I find the river which is disappointingly easy to cross, no boots have to be taken off, and I follow the river until I find the sneaky pony which was mentioned in another walker's report.
I arrive back at the campsite after a seven hours' walk and find a water tap behind the bothy. Since no one is around I strip some of my clothes off and do some basic cleaning to get rid off sweat, sun screen, and midge repellant in absence of a shower. I put on my glad rags for Tommy, and five minutes later a horde of about 20 teenage boys arrive at the camp site and pitch their tents.
I hurry to get away from too much uncontrolled testosterone and make my way to the village hall. I find Tommy there, selling me a ticket, and my campsite neighbours, a middle aged couple who sailed their friend's boat from Assynt in the north down to Knoydart. She is an author of historic novels about bears and quite an interesting person. He doesn't say much. Ian McEwan hangs around, waiting for his reading to start. He talks about the conception of his new novella which will be published in autumn, and then he reads a bit. There are questions and answers, and then people disperse, and I have some chips in the pub. I go back for the party, where The Scott Wood Band are playing. They play rocky party folk music with bagpipes and fiddle, and are quite fun and quite loud (*click*). There is also a raffle, and the winner gets a bunch of books, a cd, and whisky which she passes around and has everyone take a sip from the bottle. There is some ceilidh dancing, and I find myself dancing in a group with Ian McEwan. Unfortunately, since most people here know the dances, there are no instructions, and I get spat out of the dancing crowd after only a couple of repetitions of the dance routine. Ian McEwan is doing slightly better than me - he is struggling but he knows how to stay in the game.
I go outside to cool down and rest my old ears. I have a chat with Tommy who tells me about how he built the compost toilet on the campsite and that the next time I take a shite I should read the articles, which are tacked to the walls of the toilet stall, and which are about the construction and how compost toilets work. He also tells me a bit about his life, and that he lives in a three bedroom house on Knoydart which he finds a bit excessive, and he also asks me casually whether I have to work on Monday. I might imagine it, but it almost sounds as if he wants me to visit him at home. But I do have to work on Monday. Too bad.
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| Abandoned house |
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| Sneaky pony |
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| Foxgloves |
I arrive back at the campsite after a seven hours' walk and find a water tap behind the bothy. Since no one is around I strip some of my clothes off and do some basic cleaning to get rid off sweat, sun screen, and midge repellant in absence of a shower. I put on my glad rags for Tommy, and five minutes later a horde of about 20 teenage boys arrive at the camp site and pitch their tents.
I hurry to get away from too much uncontrolled testosterone and make my way to the village hall. I find Tommy there, selling me a ticket, and my campsite neighbours, a middle aged couple who sailed their friend's boat from Assynt in the north down to Knoydart. She is an author of historic novels about bears and quite an interesting person. He doesn't say much. Ian McEwan hangs around, waiting for his reading to start. He talks about the conception of his new novella which will be published in autumn, and then he reads a bit. There are questions and answers, and then people disperse, and I have some chips in the pub. I go back for the party, where The Scott Wood Band are playing. They play rocky party folk music with bagpipes and fiddle, and are quite fun and quite loud (*click*). There is also a raffle, and the winner gets a bunch of books, a cd, and whisky which she passes around and has everyone take a sip from the bottle. There is some ceilidh dancing, and I find myself dancing in a group with Ian McEwan. Unfortunately, since most people here know the dances, there are no instructions, and I get spat out of the dancing crowd after only a couple of repetitions of the dance routine. Ian McEwan is doing slightly better than me - he is struggling but he knows how to stay in the game.
I go outside to cool down and rest my old ears. I have a chat with Tommy who tells me about how he built the compost toilet on the campsite and that the next time I take a shite I should read the articles, which are tacked to the walls of the toilet stall, and which are about the construction and how compost toilets work. He also tells me a bit about his life, and that he lives in a three bedroom house on Knoydart which he finds a bit excessive, and he also asks me casually whether I have to work on Monday. I might imagine it, but it almost sounds as if he wants me to visit him at home. But I do have to work on Monday. Too bad.
15 July 2014
Knoydart Adventure - Part 2
After landing in Inverie, I make my way to the campsite. I know that it is on a beach somewhere east of the jetty, but I'm not sure how far to go. I pass half of the the houses of Inverie, including the pub, the tea house, the post office, and the village hall, where the book festival is happening, greeting people on the street, when after a kilometer or so a Royal Mail car stops beside me. Even though Knoydart doesn't have road access, it does have a few roads and cars, mostly landrovers. The postie introduces himself as Tommy and asks me whether I am staying at the campsite. I guess I look like it. He tells me that he is also the ranger here who is in charge of the campsite, and he gives me directions. He invites me to come along to the book festival and recites the programme. I make a non-committal noise, since I don't really want to spend the money tonight, but I wouldn't mind having a drink or so with Tommy. After passing the other half of Inverie I find a strip of grass by the beach next to a compost toilet and a field with horses - the campsite. I pitch my tent while watching a few kids playing in the sea. Three other tents are scattered around a large area. It is 7 pm and still beautifully sunny, so I go to the pub to have a pint in the sun. The evening is uneventful and I return to my tent for an early night.
11 July 2014
10 July 2014
Knoydart Adventure - Part 1
It is Friday late morning. In dire need of an adventure, I take a north-west-bound train from Glasgow to where the rails end by the sea, in Mallaig. It is a long journey, but I like train rides, and I like the idea of taking the train until it cannot go any further. I have brought a big book to read which I have already been working on for a couple of weeks.
8 July 2014
One is Fun!
For all the disheartened singles out there, join me in my appreciation for this uplifting find on our cooking book shelf:
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