Reading Mark's blog 'Brooklyntrek' made me wonder whether I could reopen my blog and make it readable. I love writing my diary; could this work as a blog? I will try to link to the word of the day and make it relevant. Let's see.
The word of the day was "crepuscular" which means 'of, or relating to, twilight; dim. This perfectly described the light today, as it was gloomy and wet all day. My office windows are coated in a transparent/reflective film which is very effective, but has a slight dulling effect on the incoming light. So it seemed even dimmer and we had the lights on all day.
Neil and I had Indian takeaway for dinner and spent the remainder of the evening listening to tracks by Jethro Tull, Steve Hackett, Nad Sylvan, pausing only to put away the grocery delivery. Neil says we also listened to Ringo Starr, but I wasn't going to mention that. Respectable bed time of 11pm
Saturday, November 07, 2015
Saturday, June 25, 2011
What's it all about?
Attending my nephew's wedding yesterday prompted my sister to recall the story of her wedding rings, and why she wears two of them. This, in turn, prompted me to recall my own attitude to wedding rings, and why I don't wear one at all.
When I was little, I wanted to get married and have children. Maybe like so many other girls, I grew up with a highly romaticised idea of marriage, and the wedding was no exception. Church, bridesmaids, wedding dress and rings were all part of the package, although it has to be said that my first wedding was anything but traditional in appearance. I changed my surname to that of my new husband, wore his ring and kept it there for 8 years in hope of the romance that never came. Shackled to a man I no longer loved, I removed the symbol of this marriage as soon as it was over.
For my second wedding, I was a bit older, but not much wiser, and still thought that marriage could be the perfect union of souls. The wedding arrangements were more pragmatic, driven as we were by lack of money, but the name change and the ring were still in there, as if their magic influence could create love out of lust, and common ground where none existed. About the same time I started to wise up on gender equality, taking a big interest in the women's rights movement and some strong feminists became friends of mine. Maybe I became too strident, maybe my new found role as a mother gave me a strength and definition of purpose - who knows? But here I was again, shackled by a name and a ring to a man who showered me with indifference. One day, when I knew it was over, I shed the name and the ring, and walked.
My half-baked feminist notions now became 'the truth' as I wove a cloth to protect myself against the traditions of marriage. I believe that a white wedding dress is a symbol of purity, and that the bride is a virgin. I believe that being 'given away' by your father is a tradition dating back to tribal customs when you were literally 'given' to another tribe, maybe in exchange for 1/2 dozen cows. And I believe that changing your name to your husband's, and wearing a ring are proof of ownership - you are a mere possession of your husband and his family.
Some of these notions may be true. Certainly, whatever their origin, the modern wedding ceremony is merely a set of rituals, that many people go through without a second thought as to their meaning.
So it was with the greatest joy that when I married for the 3rd (and last) time, it really was a union of hearts, minds and souls. Neil was not then, nor now, interested in the form and ritual of marriage. Indeed, for many months, we thought that we had all we needed, without marriage. It was enough for us to love each other. When we decided to get married, it was enough in itself to make our relationship formal. He had no desire for me to change my name, nor wear a ring. Free to be me, I am shackled to my husband by love.
When I was little, I wanted to get married and have children. Maybe like so many other girls, I grew up with a highly romaticised idea of marriage, and the wedding was no exception. Church, bridesmaids, wedding dress and rings were all part of the package, although it has to be said that my first wedding was anything but traditional in appearance. I changed my surname to that of my new husband, wore his ring and kept it there for 8 years in hope of the romance that never came. Shackled to a man I no longer loved, I removed the symbol of this marriage as soon as it was over.
For my second wedding, I was a bit older, but not much wiser, and still thought that marriage could be the perfect union of souls. The wedding arrangements were more pragmatic, driven as we were by lack of money, but the name change and the ring were still in there, as if their magic influence could create love out of lust, and common ground where none existed. About the same time I started to wise up on gender equality, taking a big interest in the women's rights movement and some strong feminists became friends of mine. Maybe I became too strident, maybe my new found role as a mother gave me a strength and definition of purpose - who knows? But here I was again, shackled by a name and a ring to a man who showered me with indifference. One day, when I knew it was over, I shed the name and the ring, and walked.
My half-baked feminist notions now became 'the truth' as I wove a cloth to protect myself against the traditions of marriage. I believe that a white wedding dress is a symbol of purity, and that the bride is a virgin. I believe that being 'given away' by your father is a tradition dating back to tribal customs when you were literally 'given' to another tribe, maybe in exchange for 1/2 dozen cows. And I believe that changing your name to your husband's, and wearing a ring are proof of ownership - you are a mere possession of your husband and his family.
Some of these notions may be true. Certainly, whatever their origin, the modern wedding ceremony is merely a set of rituals, that many people go through without a second thought as to their meaning.
So it was with the greatest joy that when I married for the 3rd (and last) time, it really was a union of hearts, minds and souls. Neil was not then, nor now, interested in the form and ritual of marriage. Indeed, for many months, we thought that we had all we needed, without marriage. It was enough for us to love each other. When we decided to get married, it was enough in itself to make our relationship formal. He had no desire for me to change my name, nor wear a ring. Free to be me, I am shackled to my husband by love.
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
Only a fool
Julia sent me a little mantra to try out - to keep me off the bread! 'Only a fool breaks the 2-slice rule'. It's good. It's very good. But the way I feel today should teach me something.
(Do I ever learn?) I think I like to eat bread-related products. I love sandwiches, rolls, toast - ah, how I love toast! But I feel like a loaf afterwards, all stodgy and lethargic. But today I went back to healthy eating a la Weight Watchers, and have had no bread. And I feel fantastic. I am so full of energy that I can only imagine that all these carbs are bad for me in some fundamental way. I think I read somewhere that foods we 'crave' are somehow the very ones that are not good for us. Sounds bunkum. Probably is. But if I can feel this good every day, why would I want to sacrifice it for a few slices of toast?
The only problem now is what to spread my marmite on. Suggestions anyone?
(Do I ever learn?) I think I like to eat bread-related products. I love sandwiches, rolls, toast - ah, how I love toast! But I feel like a loaf afterwards, all stodgy and lethargic. But today I went back to healthy eating a la Weight Watchers, and have had no bread. And I feel fantastic. I am so full of energy that I can only imagine that all these carbs are bad for me in some fundamental way. I think I read somewhere that foods we 'crave' are somehow the very ones that are not good for us. Sounds bunkum. Probably is. But if I can feel this good every day, why would I want to sacrifice it for a few slices of toast?
The only problem now is what to spread my marmite on. Suggestions anyone?
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Starting from scratch
Julia has been nagging me for some time to re-start my blog, but somehow the time never seemed right. But her blog on making a curry has sparked me off.
Cooking skills have never been top priority in our household. I can turn out an acceptable meal, but I don't enjoy the process, and even my best efforts are ones that I can chuck in the slow cooker and forget about it. Neil loves to cook, but hasn't got a clue what he is doing, and the results are very variable. I shut up and say nowt, because he is more than willing to prepare a dinner for me every night, but the starting point for these meals is often a pre-packaged meal from the supermarket.
Last week he came home in triumph, brandishing a 'bargain' he had purchased in Tesco - half price at only £1 - a ready meal for one consisting of penne pasta in a tomato & basil sauce. Something finally clicked into gear in my brain and I was appalled! 'But darling, you could make this yourself and feed 6 people for £1, AND it would be tastier'. So we decided to have a go at real cooking. Co-incidentally, a few days later I watched a TV programme in which pre-packaged diet food was given short shrift for its poor nutritional value and suspect ingredients.
Now Julia will delight in telling people (and it is a funny story) about my first foray into cooking when I had to phone her up several times to get step-by-step instructions on making a chicken casserole. However, this happened over 40 years ago, and several marriages later, I have accumulated some knowledge about basic cooking techniques, although not much more joy in the process. But I am a Virgo, and 2 things I love are following instructions and showing others the right way (my way) of doing something. So you can imagine the fun I had, in the kitchen with my lovely husband, as we worked our way through the recipe for a vegetarian pasta bake (actually a lasagne of sorts). Neil was beside himself with excitement, almost unable to wait till it was cooked to see how it had turned out. I do believe this was his first cooking attempt starting from scratch with fresh ingredients and a recipe book.
It turned out lovely, probably cost about £2.50, was enough for 6 people and we had great fun doing it. Neil unfortunately thinks he has cracked it and wants to move straight to the Maddhur Jaffrey style of cooking, but I will take him through a few more basics before we move on to ingredients like Norwegian Beaver Cheese and Mexican Yaks Milk.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
All in the name of progress
I have enjoyed another lively exchange with my sister about the merits of 'real' tea. She maintains that the only proper way to make tea is with loose leaves in a pot, with boiling water poured on, left for 3 minutes and poured onto the milk in the waiting bone china cups. This is the way our parents made tea, and anyone who uses tea bags is missing out on a good cuppa. She makes a similar point about the use of 'real' coffee. I don't agree, and personally happen to think that a well made cup of Tetleys or Nescafe is hotter and tastier than one made by these other, archaic methods. I think she is failing to acknowledge a vital point which affects a great deal of the food and drink we consume, which is - that it's all about processing.
A trip round any supermarket will reveal a vast quantity of processed food. Now, unless you live a very purist lifestyle, with a back-to-the-earth approach, nearly everything we eat is processed to a degree, and the level and sophistication of that processing is increasing all the time. Some of the foods we eat would not exist at all if it weren't for some ingenious processing, foods such as Quorn and Tofu which turn uneatable vegetable matter into something we can use every day. Some foods are presented to us in convenient forms that our mothers would have been astonished by - ready made custard is a prime example. Where is the merit in standing over a hot stove, mixing custard powder (already a processed ingredient) with milk (another processed ingredient) to cook to a smooth consistency (if I am lucky) when I can snip open a box, pour the contents into a bowl, and zap it in the microwave. Each of us will decide a level of processing that we find acceptable. Personally, I try to find a healthy-ish compromise somewhere between convenience and additives. So whilst I accept that a freshly made loaf of bread is the ideal, I tend to buy it ready made, as this is convenient, and I no longer expect my family to eat my attempts at a home-made pizza, when a ready prepared one is infinitely better.
Of course, two of the staples of our diet which have been processed far beyond their natural state are ..... tea and coffee!
A trip round any supermarket will reveal a vast quantity of processed food. Now, unless you live a very purist lifestyle, with a back-to-the-earth approach, nearly everything we eat is processed to a degree, and the level and sophistication of that processing is increasing all the time. Some of the foods we eat would not exist at all if it weren't for some ingenious processing, foods such as Quorn and Tofu which turn uneatable vegetable matter into something we can use every day. Some foods are presented to us in convenient forms that our mothers would have been astonished by - ready made custard is a prime example. Where is the merit in standing over a hot stove, mixing custard powder (already a processed ingredient) with milk (another processed ingredient) to cook to a smooth consistency (if I am lucky) when I can snip open a box, pour the contents into a bowl, and zap it in the microwave. Each of us will decide a level of processing that we find acceptable. Personally, I try to find a healthy-ish compromise somewhere between convenience and additives. So whilst I accept that a freshly made loaf of bread is the ideal, I tend to buy it ready made, as this is convenient, and I no longer expect my family to eat my attempts at a home-made pizza, when a ready prepared one is infinitely better.
Of course, two of the staples of our diet which have been processed far beyond their natural state are ..... tea and coffee!
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Demon Days are numbered
2008 was the year I finally looked the financial demon square in the face. He is very friendly, with a smiley face and outstretched hands holding credit cards. However, looking for longer, I saw the pound-signs in his eyes, and his fully-paid-up membership card of the 'Interest for Credit-Card Companies' club clearly visible in his top pocket. I shouted at him - 'Be Gone', I said. 'Not that simple, darling', he responded. 'Without me, you are going to have to make some tough decisions, and live like a poor person for a while'
I pondered, could this really be reality? Me, at 58 years old, with mounting debt and an unquenchable thirst for spending money I don't have? It was, and I did a deal with the Demon. Leave me alone for 2009 and I'll show you who's boss. He cackled merrily as I spent money at Christmas. 'You'll never make it!!' he cried, rubbing his fat hands in glee. 'Oh yes, I will, this spending is just to make you feel good until I starve you to death' I replied. 'Now, clear off - I don't want to see you again 'til you are half the demon you are now'
So he cackled off into the distance, but I can still see him, and know he is waiting to pounce. I, Beatrice Dixon, BA, will have no truck with him in 2009, and will make those tough decisions, and live like a poor person. If successful, he will be so reduced that in 2010, he might disappear for ever.
Think of that and purr...........
I pondered, could this really be reality? Me, at 58 years old, with mounting debt and an unquenchable thirst for spending money I don't have? It was, and I did a deal with the Demon. Leave me alone for 2009 and I'll show you who's boss. He cackled merrily as I spent money at Christmas. 'You'll never make it!!' he cried, rubbing his fat hands in glee. 'Oh yes, I will, this spending is just to make you feel good until I starve you to death' I replied. 'Now, clear off - I don't want to see you again 'til you are half the demon you are now'
So he cackled off into the distance, but I can still see him, and know he is waiting to pounce. I, Beatrice Dixon, BA, will have no truck with him in 2009, and will make those tough decisions, and live like a poor person. If successful, he will be so reduced that in 2010, he might disappear for ever.
Think of that and purr...........
Sunday, November 23, 2008
The Bea Movie
Sarah throws a mean party! She had a great one last night, with loads of people in fancy dress and enough food to sink an oil tanker. I was anxious about going for two reasons - 1) that I was not going to drink alcohol, and who enjoys a party without getting a little merry? and 2) Brad & Peeli were going to be there.
Now Brad and Peeli are lovely people, don't get me wrong, but at the last party we were at together - Jacob's Birthday party in May - I had embarrassed myself enormously by snogging Brad. Not that the snogging was embarrassing, but the pictures circulating afterwards were. I excuse my actions by saying that I was very drunk, but truth is I enjoyed flirting with someone half my age, who seemed to enjoy it too. But what must Peeli think of me? How was I going to face her again, sober and behaving properly?
I needn't have worried, she was fine and friendly and we all joked about the Bea Movie 2, and I stayed sober and only kissed Brad on the cheek. We - that is the little gang of Joe, Jake, Brad Aidz, Peeli, Phil, Wesley and me - had a hugely enjoyable time discussing such serious topics as writing a cheque for the hijacked oil, Somalian pirates, and whether Nirvana are the best band ever. I had about 2 tablespoons of alcohol, liberally diluted with lemonade.
So it is possible, even preferable to be sober at a party where everyone else is not, and I met some lovely new people, especially the well-talked-about-but-never-met Mehmet, a colleague of Sarah's. He and his wife Penny get 15 gold stars for chatting to Neil, who seemed to be a bit shy, and bringing him out of his shell.
We all had a good time, and The Bea Movie 2 will have to wait.
Now Brad and Peeli are lovely people, don't get me wrong, but at the last party we were at together - Jacob's Birthday party in May - I had embarrassed myself enormously by snogging Brad. Not that the snogging was embarrassing, but the pictures circulating afterwards were. I excuse my actions by saying that I was very drunk, but truth is I enjoyed flirting with someone half my age, who seemed to enjoy it too. But what must Peeli think of me? How was I going to face her again, sober and behaving properly?
I needn't have worried, she was fine and friendly and we all joked about the Bea Movie 2, and I stayed sober and only kissed Brad on the cheek. We - that is the little gang of Joe, Jake, Brad Aidz, Peeli, Phil, Wesley and me - had a hugely enjoyable time discussing such serious topics as writing a cheque for the hijacked oil, Somalian pirates, and whether Nirvana are the best band ever. I had about 2 tablespoons of alcohol, liberally diluted with lemonade.
So it is possible, even preferable to be sober at a party where everyone else is not, and I met some lovely new people, especially the well-talked-about-but-never-met Mehmet, a colleague of Sarah's. He and his wife Penny get 15 gold stars for chatting to Neil, who seemed to be a bit shy, and bringing him out of his shell.
We all had a good time, and The Bea Movie 2 will have to wait.
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