Wieder dahoam

My parents celebrated their 35th wedding anniversary on Sunday. The traditional gift for 35 years is coral, but I chose to give them Driving Me To Stansted Airport instead. It’s what any loving daughter would do.

I went to Salzburg for 3 days and although I’ve been back a couple of days now, I’m still knackered. Maybe it’s just from carrying my already hefty rucksack from the gate to the arrivals hall with an extra kilo of Austrian bread tucked into it. I saw some snow while I was out there – and saw some mountains too, of course. They’re a little difficult to miss. I had a group meeting about a website and nearly dropped down dead with exhaustion afterwards – trying to understand German that you can’t follow will do that to you. We wandered around a Christmas market, drank some punch and I was bought a pair of Austrian slippers. I spoke some German without cocking it up, enjoyed the warmth of my new green scarf and gloves and on the last evening lay on the floor with my friend looking at photos and talking about MacBooks. I also nearly missed my flight home, but fortunately check-in was re-opened for me and so Plan B (bursting into tears) was not required.

Click for the set

Bad manners

I’ve been expecting a visitor – almost a member of the family, you might say. I was expecting her to come and stay for a few days a week ago, which was fine. We could have our fun and then she’d go and I’d head off to Salzburg. Except that was too easy. Her plans have apparently changed, as she still hasn’t turned up. I don’t know what she’s up to, but it seems like she might be trying to come accompany me to Austria. Or perhaps even just surprise me at the most inopportune moment while I’m out there. Well, you know what, Aunt Flo? You’re not invited.

This week

* I made compost. I’d already raked up half a sack of leaves – an effort which in the days following caused me to empathise with the elderly as I bent down to pull on my shoes and wondered if I would make it all the way. Aside from the patch of garlic, there’s nothing going on in my vegetable patch over winter, so I thought I’d set up a temporary compost bin. We got rid of the old compost bin to give me more ground, so there wasn’t much point in me constructing anything more permanent. I used four canes to stake a black sack to ground and form a frame to keep the sack open. Aside from the leaves I also had a bag of used coffee grounds – a requested birthday present from Suzy as it’s a good source of nitrogen. And it smells good, of course. Also added to the mix of compostable was a pile of rejects from Mum’s kitchen cupboard. Dusty old cinnamon sticks, herbs and spices well beyond their best. Fennel seeds with an expiry date of December 1994, anyone? Of course I might end up with a patch full of fennel and cumin next year, but it’s unlikely. Right? See the photos of my composting genius here.

* I bought a new scarf and gloves for my trip to Salzburg. They are green and lovely and feel softer than a baby’s freshly-powdered bottom. There was also a hat in the set, but it’s ridiculously small. Maybe I’ll just carry it around with me and snuggle with it occasionally. I’ve been watching the weather forecast for Salzburg for, oh I don’t know, five weeks now and there is currently talk of snow for Sunday-Tuesday. Proper snow – 12cm of the stuff for me to stare at.

* I’ve nearly finished the jumper I’m knitting. I’m aiming to have it done before Sunday and have just the neckband and a bit of sewing-up to do. I simply made the biggest size given on the pattern. The body looks like it might fit me, but of course it’s got silly ape arms on it that would be too long for me. It’s intended as a something I’ll stow away until there’s a child in the family whom it would fit. At which point, I’ll unpack the jumper and say, “Hey, look what I made when I was 26. This is for you.” And with that I’ll be the centre of attention again, which is how it should be. Not some stupid kid.

Went to London. Saw Clive.

Yesterday I fell out of bed at EarlierThanUsual o’clock and headed to London among commuters who do this GettingUpEarly business every weekday. More fool them. John had requested the (great) pleasure of my company to help him take photos at a management conference. The content of which was just as thrilling as you think.

However, during a break there was some Minor Celebrity Excitement. In setting up the auditorium a disembodied voice came over the speakers. The morning lecturers had been miked up and it was assumed that one had wandered off without turning off his mike. But wait, that’s traffic we can hear – he must be outside.

Then John recognised the voice. It was Clive Anderson. He wasn’t one of the speakers, but the sound engineer said that he’d seen him in the building earlier. Then looking out of the window we spied him just across the street rehearsing a piece to camera.

By a strange coincidence his radio mike was on the same channel as was being used for the event. John made himself useful and ran outside (well I don’t know that he ran, he may well have just ambled) to let them know that Clive was broadcasting to the auditorium and could they please switch channels. I also made myself useful and took photos through the blinds like some kind of inexpert paparazza.

Click for the set

The good thing about making your own birthday cake

is licking the bowl

Need glasses

While surfing the electric interweb I found myself on a page about epilepsy. I’d like you to guess what I misread:

Other treatments

* Surgery to remove a cause of seizures in the brain is an option in a small number of cases. It may be considered when medication fails to prevent seizures.
* Vagal nerve stimulation is an option for some people
* Complementary therapies such as aromatherapy may help with relaxation and relieve stress, but have no proven effect on preventing seizures

7 things I felt you should know

Lindy has tagged me for a meme and it is her deepest desire that I reveal 7 things about myself.

1. I’m going out tonight. I don’t know where. For that is apparently how surprises work. I’m gonna wear something tastefully spangly and fully intend to kick up my heels wherever I end up.

2. It’s my birthday on Monday. I shall be 26 and apparently approaching this advanced age brings with it both a vague indifference (meaning that I no longer bother making a ridiculously long countdown to my birthday) and an inability to come up with ideas for what I might like in the way of presents.

3. I’m going to Salzburg in two weeks. I know. Again. I thought I was done with the travelling for this year, but I’ve been summoned and with the prospect of a trip to the Christmas markets while I’m there too, it’s not as though I was going to say anything other than “hell, yeah!” and book my flight.

4. I’d bought a spring balance for the sole purpose of weighing my pumpkins a few weeks ago. I thought it’d be big enough. However, it turned out that having a 6kg spring balance was of no use at all because my pumpkins are all big fat bastards. So Dad rigged up a balance in the garage, hung a 7lb weight on one end and a pumpkin on the other and did maths based on how far from the centre they had to be for the bar to be balanced. I stood well back while such wild and dangerous calculations were being made.

5. I had a haircut today which at last righted the not-good haircut I had back in June. I’ve been trying to grow it out since then, but never mentioned it here for fear of finding that no-one wants to be friends with the girl who cries over a haircut. But anyway, it’s all ok again now and, seriously, it’s just hair.

6. I need to go and get ready in a minute, but I have to finish this first. It’s just that I have no concentration at the moment – the last interruption from which I’ve just returned was stopping to haul a couple of pumpkins upstairs into the spare bedroom. I’d like them to ripen to orange before I mash them up and everything I read has a different idea on how to make that happen. Outside, no, inside! Warm, no, cold! Sunlight, no, darkness!

7. Lindy tagged me and I started writing this list so long ago that I keep having to go back and alter the various times I’ve mentioned. Meme-killer extraordinaire.

So instead of tagging further people, I shall simply ask you all a question to answer in the comments: how do you intend to celebrate my birthday?