Living in a windmill in old Amsterdam

I moan about my job - don't we all - and quite often the moaning is justified. In fact, it is what keeps me (vaguely) sane. But sometimes...just sometimes...there is something that makes it almost bearable. Some folks envy the international travel, but you know....a boring meeting is a boring meeting whatever the timezone. Airports are crap....hotels are the same the world over.

However, this week, on a mundane trip to Leiden, one of the nice things happened. We entertained our guests by chartering a boat on the canals of Amsterdam. An hour and a half of cruising the beautifully lit waterways, while we were plied with strong drink and canapes. Then dropped at a very very nice restaurant, for dinner in a private room.

(I didn't take the picture below - foolishly forgot my camera - but you get the idea).

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow..

And it did....a bit...


(view from my bedroom window...sunday morning)

Life's what you make it

And here are some images of my life (well, my life as a mum) over the past few weeks.


We did baking during half-term, and as everyone knows, licking the bowl afterwards is the best bit.





Laura has joined Rainbows, and this is what she made at her first meeting.





We had a halloween party.



It was fun!

The phantom of the opera

I got all spontaneous last week (which is most unlike me - I am a control freak - out and proud!), and I went up t'opera. I had to go down south for a conference, more of which later, and hoped to meet up with a colleague of mine who is living in London temporarily. She is from the US, and is really making the most of her time in London. So she was going to the ROH to see Elektra, and suggested I joined her. I did. I got a very cheap seat, practically in the rafters, and off we went. And I have to say it was great.

Now, Opera isn't really my thing - I have only been to one live opera before, and I left at the interval. It was Gloriana, and I'm sorry - it was rubbish! I have only ever left a live performance early once before in my life - that was a musical version of Scrooge at the Opera House in Manchester. Both of these events were free tickets - I wonder if I would have stayed longer if I'd actually paid for the seats?

And....I had no idea you got subtitles at the Opera! What a brilliant idea. Could have done with those at Gloriana, and that was in bloody English....In posts passim I have mentioned that I am hearing impaired, and although I did actually have my hearing aid with me for a change...AND the Opera House loop system was working (not a given in public places, unfortunately)...I really loved having the subs.

Oh, and what a corking story....so much blood...so much emotion...so much wild dancing....so much falling down, overwhelmed. That was the performers, btw, not me. I was, however, actually, literally, on the edge of my seat.

I don't think I am now an opera convert. This was a particularly exciting show, and a particularly short show. One hour, 45 minutes, and no interval. However, the husband did (somewhat hopefully) leave a pile of Richard Strauss CDs in my study. I have put them back in his room....let's not go barmy!

But, having enjoyed this one...you never know...I might go to another one someday. Maybe some of my blogging friends might like to suggest some titles a still slightly opera-phobic might enjoy?

The evening was rounded off by dinner and beer at Belgo, which was nice....but being a Belgian beer aficionado, I was vaguely disappointed...dunno why...maybe I built it up to much much.

Champion the wonder horse

Or rather, Lizzie the champion librarian and internet geek....Scarlet...here is the version of White Horses you would not be embarrassed to have in your collection at any age...

You know, I really love t'internet

There's a long long trail a-winding.....

Philip Whiteley (at the back of the picture, with the moustache) born in Leeds in 1889, son of William and Mary Anne. Private 3/9126, 12th Bn., West Yorkshire Regiment. Died in France, 23rd March 1917, aged 28. Awarded the Victory Medal and the 1914 Star. His father, William Whiteley, who died in November 1943, is buried with Philip's medals.

We have loved him in life, let us not forget him in death.