Leaving on a jet plane

I'm going to Canada next Friday. Toronto, to be precise. It has kind of crept up on me so I am now in a flurry of excitement about it. Only stopping for 48 hours. I'm actually doing work a favour! I have to be in Ohio, at the mothership,the following week and by flying via Toronto, and staying a Saturday night, I'm saving the company 500 quid! I'm staying with friends (saving more money)...who I haven't seen for about 15 months, and a trip to Niagara Falls has been mentioned..so we are all winners!

Anyway, I fly into Lester B Pearson Airport, and being a bit of a geek I thought I should find out who he was to have an airport named after him. Well, if you didn't already know (I bet Kevin did....) he was the 14th prime minister of Canada, and recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize. Now I know we might feel that they are giving those away with cornflakes at the mo (oooo...political satire...)but he got his for organizing the United Nations Emergency Force to resolve the Suez Canal Crisis. He did lots of other worthy stuff too, but true to form this is what actually caught my eye in the wikipedia entry...". In 1917, Pearson transferred to the Royal Flying Corps (as the Royal Canadian Air Force did not exist at that time), where he served as a Flying Officer until being sent home with injuries from two accidents; while training as a pilot at an air training school in Hendon, England, Pearson survived an airplane crash during his first flight. Unfortunately, in 1918, he was hit by a London bus during a blackout and was sent home as an invalid to recuperate and then discharged from the service..." Bless!

On a slightly sentimental note I shall take the opportunity to pay tribute to my lovely friends in Canada - kate & chris. Fifteen years ago this very month I went through a particular difficult time - my first marriage broke up - and without them and my other extremely lovely friends Jenny & Richard I could not have got through it and come out the other side.....thanks to them I have extremely happy memories of two drunken and slightly deranged years in my little bachelorette pad in Sale.

Walk on by...

I'm packed (so that's my clothes and everything the daughter needs for two weeks away from home), all the travel arrangements are sorted, euros to be collected tomorrow, bits to be waxed are waxed, and I have my holiday toes on.....

Husband has yet to start his ironing, and we leave in 16 hours, including sleeping. There'll be tears before bedtime I fear.

Time for a little drinkie.....

See y'all in a couple of weeks!

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).

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.

Red, red wine

or rather, white, white wine. I'm drunk. it's shameful.. I apologise. It has been a bit o' of shite week.

I'm every woman

Thank christ for that...

You Would Make a Horrible 1930's Wife

You are way too non conformist, independent, and sassy to be an ideal retro wife. You may be so wild that you aren't even considering marriage! Good thing we don't live in the 1930s anymore!

Would You Have Been a Good Wife in the 1930s?

OK Computer

[I have a feeling that is an album title, rather than a song title, but ho hum]

So, Laura is quite clingy at the moment...has been for the last couple of months and it's driving me mad, but that is a story for another blog. Anyway, it means we have this ritual everynight where, when I'm kissing her goodnight in bed, she asks me where I'm going to be. Usually my answer is a sanitised version of "downstairs, slumped in front of the telly, with a large drink in my hand, arguing with yer dad". Tonight I told her I was going to be in my study, playing on my computer. She said "are you going into the internet?".....guess who started computer lessons last week? But she did make it sound much more interesting than just surfing other people's blogs, being jealous of their interesting lives...

The windows of the world..

I'm in Sheffield, in a hotel, where the view from my window is most picturesque...the canal..complete with barges. 'cept it's p*****g down. And we are due to have a conference bar-b-q in an hour. I told our delegates from the US and South Africa not to get too excited.....

Yep -it's July - it must be our annual user conference. Two day event. So far so good. The only person I wanted to slap was a colleague not a customer, so that's OK.

Now, must remember to control drinking tonight......must remember......there are 40 + customers downstairs, include two from Salt Lake City...and my boss....must remember!

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to...

My social life is pretty woeful at the best of times - except for a lovely, impromptu night out in Sheffield last week with katie and Jonathan....thank you for listening to my self-pitying rants, Katie (!)....but it is really being put in the shade by Laura at the moment. From this weekend till the end of term she is going to seven birthday parties, including her own. Thank goodness for a quick trip to the Tesco toy department when we were in Christchurch last weekend.

Actually....now that I think about it, I'm not really doing too badly myself. Aforementioned trip to Dorset to see Vronni & team included the obligatory bar-be-que in the gorgeous new garden. The past month has also included a night out in Leiden with colleagues...and I do mean OUT. We actually ate outside which made me and my other english colleague quite giddy with excitement. And, a very drunken evening at the PTA ball. So really I've nothing to moan about, and I'm sure there are some of you out there feeling pretty flippin' jealous right now!

It's all in the genes!

As many of my friends know, my main passion is family history. Oh I can bore for hours on the in and outs of family history research. As I sit in my little study I have two shelves full of research material.

I have been doing research on Peter's family as well as my own, and his has been so much more interesting and exciting. (That's interesting and exciting for a family historian, not normal people, btw) He has a couple of bigamist's, one who ran off with his step-daughter, a reasonably famous sculptor, and a couple of family rifts.

But now I am thrilled to announce scandal in my family tree. One family of the Leeds Irish bunch who emigrated to Boston - three sons in prison at the same time, for different crimes.

We have Samuel imprisoned for assault with intent to maim and disfigure (nice). Edward was imprisoned for larceny of property. He only got 6 months....so maybe it wasn't terribly valuable property?

Then we have my personal favourite (says she, on her third glass of wine and it is only 8.15pm)- James - arrested twice in 1900 (and they are his second and third arrests respectively.) On April 30,1900, at age 20, he was sentenced to a 3 dollar fine for Drunkenness and released on May 7. He was sentenced again only 8 days after his release, May 15, again for Drunkenness. This time he was sentenced to 30 days and was released on June 13. I also believe he was back in prison in 1910, and I'm waiting for the lovely archivist in Boston to tell me about that!

Rubbish

That's me, that is. But...not as rubbish as Primeval, which Peter ha sjust made me sit through for the first....and frankly the last....time. And I watched it while drinking an extremely strong margerita...and it was still utter crap.

Slightly tipsy post

Does anyone really say tipsy anymore?

So, I started drinking at about 4.45pm today, when I normally have a rule about not starting till 6pm...i.e. Laura is home, and Peter is due through the door at any moment. Today Laura was at mum's and being picked up by P. It was my day off, and yet still my work colleagues (shan't mention names - can't remember who knows about this blog) managed to p*** me off so much that the bottle was out the fridge significantly earlier than usual.

Veronica was drink in hand when I spoke to her at 5.30, which was justifiable as they'd just had OFSTED, but also made me feel less guilty!

So, I've been reading loads of other blogs, and feeling inadequate. Therefore, in a bid to appear more interesting, here is a fact about me that you won't know: I am synesthesic, or perhaps, blessed with synesthesia. It's a nice thing to have, although weird when you realise that it isn't the same for everyone else. It is strongest for me for days of the week. If you didn't click on the link immediately I bet you are intrigued now - to see what I've got...is it catching....can you tell just by looking at me!

So, I read this blog, which reminded me that I treated myself to a pair of purple kickers for my thirtieth birthday. I did wear them a bit, but I recently gave them to my niece, so clearly they came back into fashion. I also threw a Northern Exposure party, which gives a hint as to how long ago my 30th was....