Happy New Year. And last year.

2019? Already? Gosh.

I could attempt to sum up everything that's been going on in life since the last post on here but frankly who has the time for that?

Highlights:

Another trip to Japan, this time with Middle Sis as well as Mr WithaY, which was fabulous. We're definitely going back, but not till after the 2020 Olympics.

A trip to Italy - Bologna - my first visit to the country and hopefully not my last.  The FOOD!  The WEATHER!  The Food!  Oh my dears. 

Arrival of a new family member - a great-niece who has been partly named after my lovely Mum (her great-grandma) and departure of others - splits rather than bereavements, thankfully.

Left a job which was making me utterly miserable, and found a new one just over a year ago which suits me far better.  I'm now working for an online bookseller, a bit like Amazon but much smaller and far less evil, doing customer service, a bit of marketing, and a bit of book selection. I get to look at forthcoming titles, read proofs, make suggestions and try to support authors and books which I think are worth supporting.  I love it.

I've also been able to reduce my hours so that I work a 4-day week now, which gives me one non-working day a week (as well as weekends) to get on with all the other stuff I like to do.

Mr WithaY and I have been having more work done on the house and garden. We are now the proud owners of a decent patio and driveway.  With flat level paving all round the house. And a new shed. 

There's also a pond in the offing; we have all the component parts and Mr WithaY has all the plans drawn up. It just needs a few days when he's around to get it all dug out/concreted in/assembled.  I'm a bit vague on the details. What I DO know is that there will be water lilies and irises, and a few little fish to make sure we're not inundated with mosquitos.

It took about 3 months to get all the work completed so we missed much of the glorious weather last summer, but I think we used the outside space more in the remaining couple of weeks of summer than we did the whole of the previous year. I am very much looking forward to this summer so we can get out there and enjoy the outside space.

We've both had some health stuff going on, nothing too life-threatening, but I have to have surgery at some point this year which will be tiresome. I had all the pre-op stuff done back in September and was cheerfully getting on with life under the assumption that I'd get a call for my operation in the next month or so at the latest.  No. 

I rang the relevant clinic today to find out if they had any idea when I'd have to show up.  There's an EIGHT month waiting list, so I am likely to be summoned to hospital in May or June.  Which would be ok if we hadn't just booked (and paid for) our summer holiday, which happens in May.

I have let the hospital know this.

How much do we bet that even though they have my unavailability dates, I will receive a letter from them asking me to come and have bits lopped out right in the middle of that period?

I shall be in Uzbekistan.

So. In the main, it's all ok. 

I Spy

An overheard game of I Spy in the shop yesterday, between a boy of about 4 and his slightly older brother.

Younger boy:  I spy with my little eye....um......something that's .....um....begins with...BLUE!

Older boy:  Is it this?  (Holding up a small bag of Skittles, bright red in colour.)

Younger boy:  No.

Older boy:  Is it this?  (Holding up a caramel Freddo bar, definitely not blue.)

Younger boy:  No!

Older boy:  Is it this?  (Pointing at a bag of beef crisps.)

Younger boy:  (by now hugely excited) NO!

Older boy then wandered away, tiring of the sport.

Younger boy:  I'll help you!

Older boy:  Ok.

Younger boy:  It's somewhere in Space!

In other news:  Mr WithaY and I have bitten a large, expensive bullet and booked the holiday of a lifetime.  We are going to Japan next Spring.  This is a long-held wish, and we decided that if we wait until we can afford it, we'll never go.  So we went and booked it at the weekend, and now it's really happening.

The catalyst for the trip was this:

Forgive the dreadful quality picture, I stupidly scanned it, rather than just taking a photo, like a sensible person would.

I bought this book in 1985 in Winchester, as it was required reading for my degree, used it throughout the course, and it has lived quietly in one of the many WithaY bookcases ever since.

For no reason, a few weeks ago whilst idly browsing eBay, I thought "I wonder if anyone else has one of those weird Bell Jar books for sale?" and searched for it.  Nothing on eBay, so I Googled it.

Readers, I found out a couple of interesting things about my old book.

1)  It's jolly rare.  According to a Sylvia Plath website - this one - there are only 8 copies known to exist. I don't know if that means mine is Number 9, or one of the existing 8.

2)  The last time one was sold in the UK, it went for quite a lot of money.

Well, what would you do?  I sat there for a few minutes, looking at the Bonhams photo of the cover of the book, which was almost exactly the same as mine, and then went in to Mr WithaY's study, where he sat researching Neolithic sporrans, or some such arcanery.

Me:  Look at this picture.

Mr W:  Oh yes.  A book.

Me:  Look how much it sold for.

Mr W:  Heavens!

Me:  Yes.  I've got one of those.

Mr W:  What?

Me:  I've got that same book. Upstairs.

I ran upstairs, located the book, ran (carefully - with my track record) back downstairs and showed Mr WithaY.  We both looked from my book to the Bonhams website, and back again.

Me:  I'm ringing Bonhams in the morning.

I rang Bonhams, where I spoke to a charming chap in their books department.  I told him that I had found their auction page about the Bell Jar uncorrected proof.

"Oh yes?" he said, politely.  I got the impression he was lounging negligently in a fine quality leather club chair, possibly smoking an untipped cigarette in an amber holder.

"Yes.  Well, the thing is, I've got one of those, and I'd like to sell it please."

In my head, he sat up abruptly at this point, dropping his cigarette onto the green leather of his desktop.*

Anyhoo, the upshot was, that he told me they had a sale coming up in June, and that if I could get the book to them for evaluation in the next day or two, they could include it, assuming it was what I thought it was.

I posted it to them that afternoon, they telephoned me the following morning to say it had arrived, and that they were happy to include it in the sale, and so, with much excitement, I waited for the sale catalogue to be published.

And here it is:   https://www.bonhams.com/auctions/22714/lot/289/

Ta-daa!

So, if there are any avid Sylvia Plath collectors who read this, or you know anyone who has loads of money and a suitably-shaped hole in their library, please tell them to bid.  It's funding my holiday to Japan, at least in part.








*Yes, yes, yes, I'm well aware he was probably doing nothing of the sort, but I don't get to London much these days, and it's all morphed into a Bertie Wooster/Mapp and Lucia fantasyland now in my imagination.

Basket case

It's amazing what can cause stress, isn't it? For me, it used to be the whole getting up for work and travelling halfway across the country for work thing.  Not now.

Now it's all about bookcases.

Bookcases.

Thousands* of them.

In my house.

It's all part of the final push to get Father in Law WithaY's house sold - the contracts are exchanged this Friday - so we have been clearing the last things out.  Our friend with a van** came over last night and he and Mr WithaY went back and forth to Dorset a couple of times to bring everything back.  The last time we were down there, I thought we'd pretty much cleared everything out, but it seems I was wrong.  Oh, how very wrong.

It took two trips, one with a van AND a LandRover, the other with just the van, and now my house looks like Steptoe and Son live here.

In the style of Hello Magazine, allow me to show you around my gracious home.

As you enter the house, you are met by an original arrangement of furniture in the hallway.

Bookcases.  Here, let us walk around them and admire them more fully.

They certainly add to the overall cosy feel of the place, I think.

Step into the sitting room and admire our library.  In a trailblazing and somewhat daring move, we aren't using the bookcases to store the books.  No, we prefer to use boxes.  On the floor.

Why yes, that IS a book about King Tutankhamun on the top there.  Every home should have one.  In fact, I will sell you this one if you want it.  Hell, you can have it for free.

Back into the hall, squeeze past the bookcases and step into the kitchen.  I'd offer you a seat at the dining table, but as you see, we are currently hosting a modern art installation. It's called Too Much Bleach and Four Tea Services.  I'm not certain what the artist is trying to say with it.

Can you see what is lurking on the bottom left corner of the table?  It's a rather teasing shot there, but I won't keep you in suspense longer than I have to.

It's a Wurzels album!  On vinyl!  In Mono! 
And it has sleeve notes.  Forgive the terrible photograph, my hands were shaking.

I can't decide whether to bury it at dead of night under a rowan tree, put it on eBay or have it framed forever.

Turning away from the art installation, we see the eclectic mix of kitchenware across every work surface.

Handy.

And of course, big jugs are always nice to look at***.

Back into the hallway - another glimpse of those bookcases - and let's peek into Mr WithaY's study.  Mmmm.  The perfect relaxing little corner to sit and study, or listen to music****.

I have spent much of today hiding upstairs, ineffectually tidying up my own study, which I am turning into a sewing room.  So far all I have managed to do is shove my sewing table into the corner, with a nasty CRACK as one of the legs got stuck on the carpet (the table's, not mine) and slide my new computer desk into place. 

I keep telling myself it's all temporary.  This too will pass.  And all that stuff.

Until then, I will be in here, where there aren't dozens of bookcases, bizarre records and boxes of frankly mental belongings in every corner.  Well, there are, but at least they are all mine, and I know why they're there. 

*Not thousands.  But more than I am comfortable with.

**Hello Ed!

***Apologies, big boob porn seekers

****Or play Portal 2 or Call of Duty. 

Heroics 101

Ah, London.  Still too noisy, too crowded, too filthy.  But I was glad to be back at work last week.  We have a new Big Boss now as a result of the huge changes taking place across our Department, so it will be interesting to see how things change under his leadership. 

It was a short week, what with last Monday being a Bank Holiday, but even so by Friday lunchtime I was KNACKERED.  And that was after two days working at home, and only two where I had to travel to the office.  The trains were pleasantly under-crowded, I guess a lot of people were still on holiday.  Monday will be different. 

There has been a new and delightful addition to the usual carriage-full of exhausted and grumpy commuters, though.  I shall call him Adenoid Man.  He sleeps the entire way to London, mouth agape, snorting and gruntling to himself in his own little private dreamworld for two hours.  If I ever have to sit next to him, there WILL be a recording made, I promise.  And photographs. Well, if you fall asleep on public transport, what do you expect?  Honestly. 

I'm sitting in my study this afternoon with the window open, blue sky, sunshine and birds singing.  It's like a little foretaste of spring in between the cold and rain of January.  Lovely.  There's no sign of any of the Spring bulbs coming up in the garden yet, I expect the snow and ice of December impeded them.  Another few weeks though, hopefully, and there will be crocuses.  Crocii?  Croca?

Anyhoo, it won't be long before we get some flowers making an appearance.

In other news:  I made a cake yesterday.  First cake I've made in about ten months, I think.  I bought myself a cook book and decided to try out one of the recipes.  I made the ginger and marmalade loaf, and it was marvellous.   Mr WithaY had been out shooting all day (one cartridge fired, nothing hit, not a good day) so when he got home he was cold and a bit grumpy; a nice cup of tea and a bit of cake was just the ticket. 

God, I'm so British.

The success of that recipe has encouraged me to have a go at some of the others, so I will probably make another cake next weekend. 

In not entirely unrelated news, I think I've put on about 5 pounds since my last trip to the slimming group, waaaaay back at the end of November.  In my defence, I had a month of Black Lung, and then Christmas, so I will go along in a positive frame of mind next week ready to start again.  I'm still 2 stone lighter and 2 dress sizes smaller than I was this time last year.  Onwards and upwards.

Also, Mr WithaY presented me with my Christmas present this week.  It is (and I am sorry if this repulses you) the official companion book to the new World of Warcraft Cataclysm expansion pack.  Yes, I know, I know.  Shut up.  I was thrilled. 

He still maintains that we agreed not to do Christmas gifts.  I have no recollection of any such agreement.  I have taken the precaution of noting my birthday on the calendar later this month, and have casually mentioned several time that we ARE doing birthday presents.  Just to be on the safe side, you understand.

I've been reading some more pulp adventure books on my iPhone on the train this week.  Edgar Rice Burroughs' science fiction, to be exact.  My word but it's formulaic.  I can't decide if it's formulaic because it's derivative, or because it is what everyone else copied.

Either way, I think I boiled the basics down as follows:

1)  Hero is a strapping Earthman who has found himself on an alien planet, Mars or Venus probably. Meets and falls for gorgeous high-ranking local bird.  Probably a princess. 

2)  Hero and bird embroiled in complicated and unconvincing mishap which forces them to flee the city in a flying machine.  No other people on the alien planet should have flying machines, or if they do, theirs are outclassed by the Earthman's.  Oh, plus the Earthman has a weapon that nobody else has, which allows him to mow them down in their dozens without risk of injury to himself or his bird.  Insert partonising paragraph about how bird is eventually trained to use either the weapon or to fly the aircraft semi-competently here. 

3)  Tedious and idiotic adventures follow, usually as a result of the Earthman's own stupidity.  This should entail trying to travel back to safety, seeing a city down below, and deciding to go and take a closer look despite the protestations of his bird and/or any other assorted companions he has acquired.  Flying machine is then somehow lured down or incapacitated by missile fire due to crap piloting or flat disregard of common sense. 

4)  Earthman and companions all imprisoned and thrown into Pits.  Insert horrible and detailed descriptions of natives and their vile cannibalistic/torturing/human sacrificing behaviour, sometimes with gratuitous sexual typecasting here.  There may well be an unflattering description of males of another species who are not "manly" enough. 

5)  Unlikely series of coincidences and serendipity allows Earthman and companions to escape.  During long-winded escape, hero and his companions must do at least 3 of the following:

• find long-lost city now ruled by hideous monsters
• uncover huge assassination plot
• fight alien tigers
• encounter wise but dying creature
• encounter vile but redeemable creature
• spurn the love of beautiful but unprincipled woman
• reunite ruler of city with heir, presumed dead all these years
• discover hidden treasure
• explore parts of the world nobody else has ever discovered
• find missing civilisation

Repeat at least five times per book. 

I don't think I'll read any more.

Not a patch on Conan.