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Ten

Ten years ago I sat at a computer, signed up for blogger, typed some stuff and hit the publish button.

Tonight I’m typing this on an iPhone from bed before dropping off to sleep.

Ten years ago I lived in Scotland and couldn’t walk the length of myself.

Tonight I live in London and I’m fitter and healthier than I’ve been in years.

Ten years ago I was (probably) going to wind up a crazy old spinster lady with lots of cats.

Tonight I’m engaged to be married and have no cats.

Life moves on. People change. The world turns.

It comforts me to know that whatever happens in my life, there’s a text box I can fill (or not) with my thoughts on it. Whether anyone wants to read them or not.

Ain’t technology grand?

Sleepless in Singapore

It’s 5.19am local time and I should be asleep.

I’ve got a long day ahead of me and I need to be at my best.

However, my brain thinks it’s 9.19pm yesterday and owing to my natural night-owl tendencies, isn’t remotely tired yet.

It’s not that the bed (one of two) isn’t comfortable, because it is.

It’s not that the room isn’t quiet, because it is. I’ve heard barely any noise since stepping through the door, and the only noises I’ve heard have been people coming to my room to assist me: the lady who showed me to my room, the bellhop who brought up my suitcase, Butler #1 (I kid you not, this place has Butlers) who came to show me how to use all the features of the room and Butler #2 who brought me hot chocolate at 2am.

It’s not that I haven’t tried to get to sleep, because I have. I tried avoiding food when I got here, in case it woke me up. I tried having a hot bath. I tried lying down in the dark and closing my eyes. I tried not getting stressed about not being able to sleep. I tried phoning TFH because I miss him and feel very far away. I tried reading. I tried knitting. I tried phoning the lovely Butler people and asking for a hot chocolate. I tried eating something (because I was hungry and my stomach told me it was dinner time). I even tried doing some work.

Nothing has worked.

It’s not that I’m hugely excited to see Singapore in the morning, because I doubt I’ll see much of it between here and the office where I’ll be spending two days working.

It’s not that this room doesn’t provide the perfect conditions to relax and rest (because it really, really does).

I wondered, when I found out I was coming here, whether I’d wind up in a kind of Lost in Translation-esque combination of jetlag and culture-shock, and it seems I was half right. So far, I haven’t felt much culture-shock at all. Most of the signage is in English, as was the radio station playing in the taxi from the airport and most of the TV stations I’ve flicked through on the telly. Even the plug sockets are the same as back home.

The only real sense of culture-shock I’m experiencing is the luxury of my surroundings and the myriad of nice touches which are combining to make the experience of being here something special.

For example: there’s a panel of light switches by the door, with pre-set lighting levels for the bathroom and foyer (I can’t think of a better way to describe it) of the room, and one of the settings is “Welcome”.

There’s a pillow menu with fifteen kinds of pillow that you can request.

The tea menu has ten different kinds of speciality tea in addition to freshly brewed filter coffee, espresso, latte, cappuccino and hot chocolate, available with whole or low fat milk.

In addition to two leather bound notepad and pen sets, there’s a stationery drawer, which contains writing paper, a pencil, a stapler and staples, a teeny post-it pad, eraser and sellotape dispenser.

In the bathroom, the toiletries are luxurious, and the amenities provided are way beyond those offered in any hotel I’ve ever been in (toothbrush and toothpaste, dental floss, shower cap, nail file, q-tips, cleansing pads, tissues as well as soap and lotion) and that’s not even getting into the joy that is the deep, free-standing tub and wall-integrated television. That said, I am a little freaked out by the telephone mounted on the wall next to the toilet pan.

It’s lovely, and I can’t think of any need I have that hasn’t been catered for.

I could really get used to this, but I really hope that I never get jaded by it.

Going to Singapore

Somewhat unexpectedly, I find myself going to Singapore for a business trip this week.

I had no expectations of a lot of (or any) business travel for the near future, so it caught me by surprise when it was mooted, and I refused to believe that it was happening until it was confirmed.

I don’t know much about Singapore, other than lots of people saying that it’s pretty sterile and not as much fun as Hong Kong, Shanghai, Bangkok or Tokyo so it never really touched the top ten of my list of “Places I Want To Visit”, at least until it got a spot on the Formula 1 calendar and decided to make it a night race.

Then it got my attention. Because, really, how impressive is this:

(as an aside, if you’re not regularly looking at The Big Picture, you’re definitely missing out)

Unfortunately, I’m only going to be in Singapore for about 54 hours, so I won’t get much time to explore, and the Grand Prix Calendar is done for this year, but I’m looking forward to the new experience (even if I suspect it’ll be more than a little Lost In Translation-esque due to jetlag and general tiredness).

So here’s to new experiences, opportunities and challenges… and to laughing in the face of jetlag.

Making up for lost time

I decided, somewhat at the last minute, to try and blog every day in November.

Then I got an amazing job which took over my brain before I even knew I definitely had it, and so posting every day became not so much difficult, but less of a priority amongst the hustle and bustle of getting back to the discipline of the daily commute.

I still want to get back to posting here more regularly. I’ve really missed blogging properly (as opposed to the micro or nano blogging I do on twitter), so I’ve back-filled a wee bit with some of the photos which have been piling up on my hard disk.

It’s been a funny old year, this one, and there is too much that’s gone unsaid. There’s a fair amount which will have to remain unsaid, and — for reasons of client confidentiality — go unsaid in future, but I’m hoping that I can write (and post photographs) more and more frequently in future. I’ve got out of the habit of writing regularly and that’s something I’d like to remedy.

So forgive me if things go in fits and starts a little bit around here in the coming days, weeks and months. There’s a lot (been) going on and I’m trying to make up for lost time.

Thankful

I don’t do it nearly often enough, but it’s so important to stop and count blessings every once in a while.

I have been incredibly blessed this past year.

I’ve been loved, supported, encouraged and asked to marry the most amazing man I’ve ever met.

I’ve been welcomed with open arms by his entire family and grown closer to my own.

I visited a place I’d wanted to visit for 20 odd years.

I’ve worked with some amazingly talented, dedicated, inspirational people, and learned a huge amount in the process.

I’ve been given the gifts of friendship and advice many times over.

I’ve been inspired and energised when I thought my well had run dry.

Tomorrow brings the first step down a new path for me and I am incredibly excited. This has been quite a rollercoaster of a year, but I wouldn’t change a minute of it, because it’s brought me to this moment, in this place.

Life is good.

I am blessed.

Thank you.

Disappointed

The best laid plans…

We were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary last night.

We didn’t.

We were supposed to be going to a party tomorrow night.

We won’t be.

We were supposed to have a group of friends round on Sunday.

They won’t be coming.

The pigdeathflu is making its second visit to our house.

It’s fair to say I’m disappointed that our plans have had to change, but I’m glad that this means both of us have had it, so hopefully when it gets worse we’ll have the necessary immunity.

Knitting for Lori

There are generally considered to be two kinds of knitter: those who are process knitters and those who are product knitters.

I used to consider myself firmly in the product camp, choosing small projects for that instant gratification, look I made a thing feeling. That said, quite often recently I’ve found myself not completing a project, ripping it back (at more than 75% complete) and not feeling particularly bothered by it, which would seem to lump me in the process category, where I knit because I want to knit, but I’m not particularly fussed by producing anything of particular worth. Journey, not destination.

Of course, there are more than two kinds of knitter. In fact, there are as many kinds of knitter as there are actual knitters – no two are exactly alike, but they can be sorted into broad categories. The next great schism is probably monogamous/non-monogamous.

I’m distinctly non-monogamous with my knitting. I’ve got *cough* projects in various stages of completion, and I don’t feel any need to finish one before starting another. In fact, you could even term it start-itis. I start lots of things, but after a while, the enthusiasm wanes and I move onto something shiny and new.

It’s easy to be whatever kind of knitter you are when you’re knitting for yourself, but when you knit for a friend (or family), things necessarily have to change. All the usual distractions and mid-project lulls will still kick in, but now you have somebody waiting for something, which is why it’s really important to only ever offer to knit something for someone who will appreciate the time and effort you’re putting in, and treat the finished item with the love, care and attention that it deserves.

Four years ago (excuse me for a moment while I boggle about how time has flown. Ok. I’m done.), I was in the midst of a very serious knitting addiction. My drug of choice was the Clapotis, a large scarf/wrap which captured my attention. I think by the time I was done, I’d knitted five and a half Clapotis(es?) in various sizes. The final, full-size Clapotis went to the lovely Lori Smith, who’d admired one of mine (I only have one still in my possession) and asked if I’d knit her one.

By the time I started knitting hers, in truth, the attraction began to wane, but although it took me far longer than I anticipated, I kept going through the miles of middle section, and finally, to the end, and I was so pleased that I had, because it really suited her.

Recently, Lori mentioned on twitter that she would like a snood knitted, and I offered my knitting services once more (there is no drug greater than the sincere appreciation of a handknitted item). She had very specific ideas in mind (which is a good thing) and a couple of weeks ago we met up at John Lewis in Oxford Street go do some yarn shopping.

It was originally supposed to be red and woolly, but after wandering round, our attention was grabbed by a 50/50 wool/silk blend in a pink so bright it was almost offensive. Pink is not the colour either of us would go for by choice, but it just refused to be put down, so not long after, we left John Lewis with a bag full of pink yarn and a pattern.

I’m about 75% of the way through the snood, and while the yarn is wonderful to work with and I’ve enjoyed the feel of it running through my fingers as I knit, I’m reaching the knitting equivalent of the point of maximum dread. You know the end is near but it isn’t near enough to give you that second wind to push to the end and the pattern has leveled out to being knit, knit, knit all the way. With each day, the urge to start something new grows. It’s a sickness, I know.

The point of this post is not to have a moan about knitting for someone else. I love knitting for people who appreciate it. It really is a wonderful feeling when you’ve put time and effort into something and that effort is appreciated. It’s just an acknowledgment that my inclination is to start something knew, even though I know the satisfaction will be less than that which will be felt by finishing this and handing it over. After all, the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

Hi, my name is Ann and I have chronic startitis.

(Hello Ann)

etc.

It’s also an excuse to show off some pictures of yarn and stuff, because there’s not nearly been enough knitting on this blog so far.

Testing Wordpress for iPhone

I’d heard good things about the Wordpress iPhone app so I thought I’d check it out.

So far, so good. It may even help get me writing here more often.

Counting down the hours

In 7 hours, a taxi will (had better) turn up outside the house, ready to take us to the Heathrow Airport Terminal 5.

In 11 hours and 3 minutes, our flight is scheduled to take off.

In 21 hours and 53 minutes, our flight is scheduled to land in San Francisco.

In less than 24 hours, I will be on the holiday I’ve dreamed about almost my entire life.

I, quite literally, cannot wait.

California Dreaming

I was 7 years old when the school secretary pulled me out of the lunch line and said I should go out front of the school, because my parents were there. I panicked a little, but when I got there, it was nothing to panic about. My dad’s cousin, who’d emigrated to the US when he was a wee boy, had come to Scotland for a visit with his wife, looked us up and popped in to say hi. They only had a day because they were off to do some golf sightseeing, but I’ll never forget the hour we spent sitting in the back of the car in the school car park. They promised they’d take my sister and I to Disneyland if we ever made it over to California, and a seed was sown. Sadly, they passed away several years ago without my sister or I having made it to the US, never mind to California, and it’s one of my biggest regrets.

I don’t remember what age I was when I saw Tales of the City on TV, but it must have been when I was around 16 (I got my first telly when I passed my exams at 15) and it made an incredible impression on me. It was at that point that my vague “California” wanderlust settled firmly in San Francisco.

A few years on and I’ve discovered wine and am well on my way to becoming a potential “wine ponce”. I’ve also had good friends telling me tales of Sonoma County and Napa Valley wineries and how much fun (and good food and drink) they’ve had. Throw in a bit of Sideways and Oz and James and my San Francisco wanderlust has expanded to cover Wine Country too.

So, with the background set, you can imagine how excited I was when HFBB phoned me this morning to say that he’d booked flights for us to go to San Francisco, leaving on the 1st of July and coming back on the 17th.

Reader, I may have shed a tear.

My California dream is coming true.

In three weeks time I’ll be in my seat on the plane, somewhere over the East Coast of the US on the way to the one place in the world I’ve always wanted to go. I was beyond excited when I went to Austin for SXSW two years ago, but this has caused my excitement levels to go stratospheric.

Currently we plan to spend a few days in San Francisco when we arrive, then take off for a wee bit of a tour round Wine Country (maybe even in a convertible!) and then back to San Francisco for the last couple of days before we come home.

Thanks to twitter I’ve had some great recommendations already. I especially have to give a massive shout out to Jason Reed who has gone above and beyond the call of duty for recommendations. He is a total legend.

That said, I’m still open to recommendations. So, is there anywhere in SF/the Bay Area/Wine Country that I’d be a complete fool not to visit?