They weren’t lying

7/30 (really far behind in my writing goal. disgusting) In my 20s I spent a lot of time watching Oprah. There were sometimes 1 on 1 interviews with women celebrities about how their life, love and careers were going. In my head, they always seemed to be around 40 years old. And Oprah would ask them how they felt about turning 40 and the interviewee would inevitably say how excellent it was to turn 40. I was always a bit sceptical thinking that things were pretty good when you’re 20 something. When you’re 20 you’ve got loads of potential to do things and see things. You’re life is ahead of you. You’re fit (maybe) too.

Well, nearly two months into 40, I have to say these ladies were totally right. It has been a fucking delight for the most part. I have been having a great time and mentally about 180 degrees from where I was this time last year. We spent the beginning of 2022 (while still 39) travelling loads and doing a lot of things on the fuck it list, just in case turning 40 wasn’t very good, culminating in a two week trip to Greece in April.

Olive grove we camped in outside Githiou. Camping Meltemi What a life.

And actually, since turning 40 we have only travelled to FyneFest and a few trips to the coast. James and I have both been going through a bit of upheaval at our work places, which at least for me has taken up a lot of my brain capacity. I have recently gotten a promotion and James is awaiting news of a new job title. It’s strange both of us have been doing the same jobs for the last decade and both of us change roles in the course of a few months.

I definitely feel more confident in myself, which is a weird feeling after many years of quite bad anxiety. And don’t get me wrong, it’s still there, I’m just better at keeping it in check. I have also had some of the worst bouts of stress I have ever experienced in the last few months, so it’s not all rose tinted. I recently completed a stress management course, which has given me some more skills to cope with the demands on me professionally. End of July Colleen is much better than end of May Colleen.

If we weren’t acutely aware of it already, the last few months have taught us life is really short. Coupled with the huge climatic changes happening, we need to make the most of our time. We fully intend to keep travelling as much as we have holiday and money to do so. We have a couple bigger trips lined up in 2022 including a two week van adventure in Northern Europe in September and a trip to New England in November. Very much looking forward to both of these.

Ticking shit off the bucket list like Tholos of Athena, making room for more things. It felt like a monumental moment to be there in April.

So I hope you’re all able to take some time to enjoy life. Don’t work too many hours. It’s not worth it. Cheers. – C

Gonna have a good time. Deal with it.

Fuck It List

3/30 It’s been a wild 2022 so far and we’ve only just started February. January felt like about 6 months worth of noteworthy things happened. Probably the most notable was seeing the Northern Lights for the first time. And then seeing them for the second time, for longer and during much more sociable temperatures. Turns out after posting about it on Facebook and other places, a lot of people want to see the northern lights.

Northern lights down by the lake in Akas

Outside our cabin. Looks like green smoke rising from our chimney. It’s not.

I’ve wanted to see the northern lights for as long as I have known about them being a thing. It was always one of those “one day” things. On the priority list, but not on the priority priority list. Then covid happened. Then restrictions in Europe happened and things became more complicated for our originally planned trip that had us going through 5 different countries. This was no longer possible, so a package holiday for a week long stay in a cabin in Lapland it became.

And then we saw the northern lights. Check.

During our stay, I read a timely article on Good Beer Hunting by Beth Demmon about Bucket Lists. In it Beth mentions the things she’s done or will do post-pandemic on a beer bucket list she created a few years ago. And all she had to do to get it done was put it on twitter and the offers came in. Just one little step. Just one little gesture to make something happen suddenly meant the dream manifested itself. That’s all you’ve got to do. And then, the best bit, is you can put new stuff on the list.

I’d say I’m normally up for doing new things, within reason. And over my life, I’ve been really lucky to be able to do a lot of things I never thought I’d ever do. But the bucket list in my head has kind of been static for a while. Nothing new added since I moved to England in 2010 really. There are loads of new “One day I’ll do it” things I say casually in conversations all the time. After having read Beth’s article and just ticked something off the bucket list, I suddenly thought about the things I could add. Or the things that wouldn’t take much effort on my part to make happen. All of those “One day I’ll do it.” items. What could I do next? And so was born the Fuck It List.

So basically we’ve spent the last couple weeks doing a bunch of random shit we’ve been talking about doing for ages. The first big one was to go out for drinks and have to stay at The Standard Hotel in Kings Cross, specifically on the 7th floor if possible. If you don’t know the The Standard hotel was formerly my office and I worked on the 7th floor. Yes, we did check in at 12:45AM. Yes, we stayed on the 7th floor. Yes, we headed up to the rooftop bar for more drinks. Cause fuck it.

Standard Bar

Yes, the bathrobes were deliciously soft as was the bed. In the morning I woke up to look over the Town Hall roof being worked on before strolling up the road a couple minutes to work, surprisingly in not that bad of shape.

Workers gonna work.

Some people may have regret over the money spent and the short time I had to enjoy the place, but not me. I loved it and now instead of “One day…” I have “Well this one time…”

A week later we spent a few hours walking 8 miles north through mostly new (to us) bits of London to visit a BBQ restaurant we’ve been talking about for ages that we wanted to visit. You know what? The BBQ was banging as expected and I can’t wait to go back again.

So 2022 is all about the Fuck It list. If there’s something we can do that we’ve been talking about doing, we are going to do it. Can be as small as going to get a coffee or as big as booking a trip. The day after we stayed in the hotel, I took James to a restaurant I’ve been wanting to take him to for ages. Yesterday, we booked a trip to Epernay, France – the so called capital of the champagne region, which we’ve been talking about going to for years. No doubt before that trip, we will remember we’ve been meaning to go to somewhere and will just go and do it. Cause if the last two years have taught us anything, we don’t know how much time we have to enjoy things, so you’ve got to get them done when you can. I hope you can all have a try at doing one of those things you’ve been wanting to do for ages. It’ll be worth it.

No doubt we are going to have one hell of a 2022. Long may it continue after. Peace.

Setting the bar low

1/30 Happy 2022 everyone. Despite omicron wreaking havoc on our lives, it does feel like there’s a slight whiff of optimism in the air heading into this new year. I certainly don’t feel the doom demons lurking over me like I had going into 2021 and I very much hope we can keep the doom demons at bay in 2022. Wouldn’t that be a treat?

I’m already smashing 2022 by getting some writing in on the 2nd day of the year. It took me till November to write once on my blog. Once. So given my low levels of achievement last year on doing stuff, I’m setting my sights on the horizon low for 2022. It’s only to stop myself from being negative about how much I’m doing, cause getting down on myself isn’t helpful.

2022 Goals:
Read 15 books – I set my reading goal in 2021 to 18 books and I only read 12, which made me very sad. So this year I’m going back to my 2020 goal of 15 and hopefully I can achieve it. We have a week in a cabin in Lapland next week and I can see us reading a couple books each during that time.

Visit 3 new countries – So we already have 1 trip to a new country booked in (Finland) and possibly a second one in April (Greece). We wanted to go further afield for my 40th birthday, but places are either prohibitively expensive (USA) or closed to travel cause covid (Madagascar). I very much look forward to both these trips and whatever other place we may decide to go, likely another country in Europe. The lack of travel and experiencing of new things has most definitely contributed to my depression the last 6 months. Also, it’s exciting to think about going to a 3rd new country that I don’t even know about yet.

Run 300 miles – In 2021 I did the most running I’d done since I was in my early 20s. The distances weren’t much, but neither were they when I was younger. This year I’d like to push myself to run a bit more and a bit longer. 300 ain’t much, but it’s better than nothing. I have downloaded the Runkeeper app to track my progress. I’ve been using Google fit, but it isn’t very accurate in recording distances or anything for that matter. I may also sign up for another half marathon, but I’d like to do one where there’s not a billion people running around me. Any suggestions on races is welcome.

Lose 20 pounds – 20 pounds seems like a lot, but in all honesty, I think I’ve put on about 20 pounds since covid. I’ve lost countless miles of cycling due to the pandemic and also been sat on the couch eating and drinking in a way I never have before. We used to go weeks without watching tv and now it’s a nightly thing. Ideally I’d like to get beach body ready before turning 40 in May. Got to go into the next decade feeling my best physically.

Write 30 times – it’s time to get seriously back on the writing train. I think about writing all the time and thinking about it is not enough. It really does help with my concentration and relaxes me, so it can only be good to do so. I used to write everyday and re-acquainting myself with writing 2-3 times a month is the first step.

I was trying to think of some other fun goals, but I don’t have anything. And in reality, having straightforward familiar goals is what is best for me right now. Baby steps back to being the best Colleen after many tough months mentally.

Very much hope you all have an excellent 2022 with much happiness, health and success. ❤

Welcome to Sunday

Maybe it’s the extra hour of sleep I procured last night or maybe cause I didn’t drink yesterday, but I’m actually up and feeling quite energised this morning. Thank you to Piccadilly for getting me out of bed to feed her cute little fluffy face.

I haven’t written here since just a week or two before the start of lockdown here in the UK. I’ve thought about it thousands of times or more, crafting my thoughts into sentences when out for a run for example and coming home and not following through. Truth is, it was going to be a depressing post. Potentially a worrying depressing post. And I think I didn’t want people to worry about me. I got my own checks and balances in place to cope, so I’m all good.

Like billions of people the pandemic has not been easy, but at least I’ve not been seriously ill or died. And although a stupid amount of people are still contracting Covid daily here in the UK, I am feeling less constrained by it all. Both James and I had Covid in July and both have been fully vaccinated so I think there may be some comfort in that. I think if I hadn’t had Covid (maybe for the 2nd time) in July I’d feel differently.

Yesterday we had a really good day out picking apples. It’s been a funny old season for apple picking. We were planning to scale back as cider has been taking up a lot of our free time, probably too much. And it’s also scaled up our drinking, which definitely got to a level during lockdown which was not good. We took a few weeks off booze in September to re-think our relationship with it and it also gave us some prospective on making cider. And then we went to pick and it’s been a horrible year for apple crops at two of our orchards. But yesterday our third orchard it came through and it was such a beautiful weather day with fairly easy picking, it made me excited about apples and cider and life. I was remembering back to the first time we picked in that orchard in 2017 and how incredibly lucky I was feeling to be able to make more cider with new varieties (russet). To have a small spark of that feeling back in my blood was nice and it made me think it was the right step to make a hell of a lot less cider this year. Last year we made 2500 litres, this year we may make 700 or something. Not sure. Depends on how much we pick next week.

Today we have a day of cleaning, racking and pressing once the rain passes this morning. It should be fun. I would even go as far as saying I’m looking forward to it, which it not something I’ve said about the cider process a lot in the last couple years. May even live stream it cause that’s what we do now. I’ve really gotten into streaming and watching streams on twitch. It’s been a nice escape into other worlds when my own wasn’t very pleasant to be in. I’ll probably write more about that another day soon. Let’s hope this is the start of writing again. Have a good Sunday, y’all.

Jonagolds and russet trees on a beautiful day in October in Kent

Another day

I recently looked at my posts from 2020 and saw the last post I did ended with “hope everyone has a great March!” or something like that. That didn’t go well did it? Think that may be the last time I ever wish anyone well on the blog.

The writing was starting to appear on the wall though at that point in early March, but we, or at least me, remained in the belief if it did come, it would blow over very quickly. We were only a month away from leaving on our Trans-Siberian adventure and we confident enough to apply for our transit visas for Belarus in the middle of March. Sadly, by the time we picked our visas back up a week later, the borders of the countries we’d be travelling through had shut and we’d shelled out €60 each for a stamp we’d never see the use in having. Luckily it sits proudly next to our Russian travel visa, which also became redundant.

I wanted to keep up my writing through the year. I certainly thought about it a lot, but when it came down to it I would think, “what is there really to say? Nothing.” I think that sentiment was and remains mostly true. There’s not a lot to say. I’m very grateful to have a pretty sweet life set up which doesn’t make this all that uncomfortable. We have subsequently made it more comfortable for ourselves as the lockdown continues on. We also have an adorable cat, whose photos make up the majority of my picture gallery from the last 10 months. Our family and friends have remained in mostly very good health throughout the pandemic too, despite a number of them catching Covid.

I would like to start writing again more. I don’t know how that will pan out in 2021. It would be nice to report back on something grand we’ve experienced, but those instances are lacking currently.

We got half our road repaved last week until the roadworks burst the water main and we lost water for a few hours. Water is now back on and back to the doldrums of sitting in the flat.

Our cider company is giving us a bit of a bright spot during all of this. We’ve become quite close with a few other cider people and it’s been a joy to manage to actually make friends despite not being able to really go outside the house. Along with that, all the travelling we’ve done in England in the last 10 months has been related to cider. Including today. We’ve spent the weekend pruning trees in Kent and will do some more over the next few months.

Pruning is fun.

I’m going to leave on that note. Keep safe everyone and hope to see you soon.

wake up. it’s the first of the month

Madrid Cathedral colors

I’ve woken up with aches all over. Legs, back and bum creaking. I reached for my phone to see it was 7:23. I’ve slept for nearly 10 hours. I should probably get out of bed before any more aches appear, the bad ones. The aches I’m experience are the good ones. It means I’ve done something with my body. They’ve come from a good workout and a long run with a backpack yesterday. It’s rare these days to spend a weekend sober, but I think this may be the 2nd or possibly the 3rd of 2020. I’ve done my best so far to stick to my new years resolution to tone down my drinking. This weekend it’s helped Jimbo is away and my bank account is empty. But I was still tempted to go out last night thinking it may do me good to see people. In reality though, my introvert mind needed another quiet night and I am happy to have had it this morning. Part of the working through things for me is having my hands occupied with a task (be it scrubbing, weeding, sorting or folding), so let me tell you, dear reader, our house is very, very clean outside of the floor due to some planned messy activities this afternoon.

I’ve slowly been thinning down from the start of the year. It’s a funny thing to be toning up again cause I spent most of the end of last year thinking I was just putting on weight because I was getting older and it was inevitable. Turns out that’s not the case. I was just not working out and consuming all the beer and cider calories possible. It’s amazing what one will convince themselves of. I’ve been reading this book Why We Sleep the last couple weeks and it’s terrified me of not getting 8 hours of sleep a night for fear of heart disease and dementia. It may be the case those late night sessions may have been contributing to weight gain as well. Kids, I recommend more sleep and that book.

The year has been filled with much travel planning and a wee bit of travelling. We were in Madrid and Toledo a couple weeks ago with brother Robby, SIL Korie and kids. It was a fun weekend with the fam, but I think in hindsight I would have preferred to meet up elsewhere than Madrid. We need to remember we struggle enjoying other European capital cities and prefer the countryside or smaller cities for our holidays. I’m not sure what it is, but we always end up feeling bleh about them.

Ice cream decisions

We have been in full planning mode for our big Trans-siberian adventure which is now less than 5 weeks away. It’s been a bit tedious at points thanks to trains not running on certain days and the visa applications. How come no one told me how ridiculous the Russian visa application is? Details needed include any professional memberships you have. Yes, I am a member of the International Society of Arboriculture. I am a threat. I may judge the risk of your street trees and think about a management plan of your park woodlands. You’ve been warned.

With any luck the Russians will be satisfied with their data harvesting and I will pick up my passport on Friday with a visa in it. My first proper visa since Kenya in 2011 (tekkers had one in 2015 in Zambia, but you applied at passport control, so it’s not as thrilling). That’s way too long between visas and I intend to ensure this is addressed going forward. Any ways, we look forward to going to a truly foreign land where we can’t read the language for the first time in our lives (cept for Tina who can). I am expecting rash decisions, boredom, madness, tiredness, hangovers, clarity, joy and sadness. It shall be a trip like none other I’ve taken and need to break up our quite tame visits to Europe and US.

I leave you today with this photo I call cat on a Sunday morning. I want to work on sharpening my photography skills a bit before Russia, so this was the best of the few shots I took of her this morning. Have a good March, folks.

Cat on a Sunday morning

 

 

2020 and beyond

What a strange time and place the last 5 years have been. All has changed so quickly, it’s been hard for my tiny brain to keep up. New beginnings galore and I’ve just been trying to find some normalcy in it all. After many heart to hearts with people over the last few months I feel like I’m finally able to attempt to do that in 2020.

I’m the first to admit I drank way too much in 2019. Not to the point people should be concerned (at least I don’t think so), but it was a lot none the less. I think it was the only way to find a comfortable place mentally for all that was going on in life. Part of that was just being in the pub where I feel the most like myself and is nearly always a good time. We are not really home drinkers unless we have people over or we’re on our way out. The last couple months it’s been weighing a heavier burden on me and I do believe I’ve turned a tide in regards to drinking. We’ll see how 2020 pans out though. If anything stops me it’ll be the desire to shed some lbs so my clothes continue to fit. But in seriousness,  I have some other ways to cope with stresses and problems than going to the pub. In fact it involves spending less time with people and more time by myself so I can reflect more on life. It also means being more open and honest with friends and family rather than keeping it all inside. I’m so thankful for the conversations I’ve had with friends and family recently as it’s revealed plenty about myself in the course and what action I need to take to make things better.

Listen this stuff isn’t rocket science, but it’s sometimes tough to do the things you know will make you feel good about life and love. It’s a lot easier to scroll through twitter or watch something on Netflix. Or, in my case, go to the pub and scroll through twitter.

I haven’t really set any new years resolutions this year. I just want to make more time for myself in whatever fashion that may come about. Cats are allowed in my alone time as long as they don’t cause too much of a fuss and they don’t mind going for runs in the common.

This may mean more senseless writing on this blog or it might not. I am not sure how this year will go. I do hope to do a lot more writing in April on our trip across Russia. I reckon I’ll have a few spare moments to write down thoughts while staring out at birch tree after birch tree on a three day train journey.

I hope you all have a happy and healthy 2020. Let’s meet up for a drink soon, but not too many.

The sun never felt so good

It had been a weird Sunday morning at FyneFest. With unexpected wind and rain in the early morning, we thought maybe FyneFest may be ending pre-maturely. The vast majority of people were heading home any ways, not staying around the for the ultra cool Sunday night drinking party. The Brewer’s Lounge, due to be our hang out for the day, had been taken down for safety. The unnerving wind continued to blow down the glen shaking the big tent, as we continued to put away  halves of Jarl, Everyone Loves Mandarina and Easter Hill with our American friends the Reinecker’s. We weren’t sure what we would be doing for the rest of the day, potentially packing up our tents and heading back to Glasgow. After a while though, the wind settled and the sun began to peak through the heavy, gray clouds rolling over. We moved outside to enjoy what was a rare bit of Scottish sun at this year’s FyneFest.

By the afternoon, raincoats had been shed and suddenly there was movement around the small international bar that was stationed inside the now defunct Brewer’s Lounge. And then there was beer beginning to flow at the now Al Fresco Bar.

A small group of  hard core drinkers appeared, realising there may be a chance to have some beer brought over from the US via Shelton Brothers and care of Teresa’s. The beer was slightly warm and very frothy, when being pulled through the lines. As the punters waited patiently, the bartenders struggled against the froth coming from the lines. Realising it wasn’t viable to stand there all day trying to get a decent pour, jugs of froth from across the pond were passed around to eager drinker. Glasses were suddenly filled with some of America’s best beer and the beauty of this moment of the glen started to appear across the faces of those at the al fresco bar.

Suddenly life couldn’t get any better. We had new friends to share banter, jugs of glorious beer and (shortly after) pulled pork sandwiches with hot sauce. All while sitting on a couch in the middle of a Scottish glen in the sun.

The sun lasted maybe 40 minutes until it dipped down behind the hills of the glen. We continued on the couch, laughing, eating and drinking, living out our best lives. Eventually the rain returned and we were chased back in the main tent. The moment had passed, but the memory and the warm feeling of the sun on my skin and Hill Farmstead Arthur on my lips won’t soon be forgotten.

 

 

 

Time for quiet

Somedays after work, my husband and I like to stop on our way home at the pub to have a pint or two. It’s a nice experience sitting in a pub. Often, it’s the Harp, which is located just a little bit off our normal path home, but worth the extra couple minutes every time. As much as I love sitting in the pub chatting, sometimes the ride home is just as good. If you aren’t aware we cycle. Lately, it’s been on our cruiser bikes as my other bicycle has been broken and Jimbo has just made his cruiser even better to ride. From the Harp in Covent Garden, we will ride home via Whitehall, Parliament Square and Embankment, typically, with the wind in our faces, side by side, continuing to right all the wrongs in the world. Sometimes if the road is clear we will stop off at Downing Street in hopes of spotting Larry the cat or at least Palmerston. We half-heartedly will call out in the night their names, on the off chance they fancy seeing us.

So far no luck.

The other night we decided to go over Westminster Bridge for a change. I think it may have been to show Jimbo the new face of Big Ben with its nice blue paint. It wasn’t too late, but the riverside was quiet and we had an impromptu photo shoot, which went totally well after a couple pints.

Jarl makes people happy. Just look at these two.

It’s blue. I promise.

I do like having the city mostly to ourselves later on a weekday. Time to enjoy the sights, but not so much the sounds. It feels like more than ever I am aware of sounds I don’t like and disturb me. And that freedom to ride quietly at night without much road noise is a magical thing.

The next couple weeks I look forward to being far away from the noise of London. The majority of sound I am likely to hear is waves lapping at the shore, birds talking to one another or maybe the bleating of a sheep. And that’s ok with me.

Cheers.

Growth potential

It’s a great time of year. Spring has only just ticked over on the calendar. A few bulbs have come out along with some magnolias, hazels, Ribes and, ok, a load of other plants too. But there is still much to go in the growing year here in Britain. And I will give it to England. It has the most spectacular Spring out of any places I’ve lived. The rest of the seasons leaving me wanting, but Spring is great.

This year we have spread out a ridiculous amount of compost and left over apple pulp across our tiny garden. I’m surprised it was able to take all this on board to begin with a few weeks ago and further impressed at how much it has broken down since. On top of the compost I have spread wildflower seeds on top of the existing seed stock from last years annuals and perennials. I am the first one to admit the garden was pretty stinky for a day after spreading the compost and pulp. But the next day the rains came and I haven’t smelled anything since. The decomposers are hard at work across the compost, making our leftover food stuff available for plants once again. And in some cases the discarded food has sprung to life itself.

Cabbage trying to be a cabbage again

I’m always amazed when people talk about what they are growing in their garden and I create an illusion of a big, bountiful, sprawling patch in my head where they toil over the land. Then I get to see it in real life and think, “is that it?” But then I walk around and begin to notice the individual plants for what they are and what they can produce and yeah, it is pretty magical. Our garden is much the same. Yes, it does look like a heap of shit to most (including myself at points). But you have to look at the potential and know there are many things in the works, ready to come out over the next seven months to delight. Especially me.

Hops beginning to emerge amongst the eggshells, oyster shells, and apparently a bit of plastic.

Cascade hops and wildflowers begin their journey once again