No Man's Nightingale

There's a book with Ruth Rendell with the same title, which is a direct quote from a poem by George Herbert (nope, I've never heard of him either ...) https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44364/jordan-i

I take it to mean that the woman in question was special to very few people during her life and it's something I share.  I always felt second-class compared to others, having very little self-esteem whilst growing up.  People, especially men, were wont to use me, but oft professed a deep love for somebody else.  That last sentence sounds very Victorian in meaning, but hey, why not?

I fall deeply in love all too easily and being autistic, I cannot hide my feelings.  With the exception of the man I'm married to, no other man has given a flying fig about my limited amount of self-confidence, choosing to bang on about another bloody woman (or women ...)  What I really like, and I'll emphasise that point, is hearing all about just how deep the strength of their feelings go towards someone else.  Oh, it's really nice to witness such devotion, especially when it's aimed at another person.  Oh joy. 

Creative Writing Course: Sarah In Seat D16

Creative Writing Course: Sarah In Seat D16

 [The setting: it's the year 2001 aboard a London Euston to Edinburgh Waverley train; Sarah, a twenty-six-year-old woman is flicking through a magazine ...]

Sarah sighed and put down her copy of Cosmopolitan magazine on the table; she'd had enough and was getting bored.  Her ancient Sony Walkman was playing retro music from a Now That's What I Call 1988 cassette.  Despite the long-lost memories the music was invoking, she found that she couldn't concentrate and soon clicked it off with a decisive snap. She sighed audibly - Aunt Moira, the one relative she'd always resisted visiting.  Saying that, it was important that she did so as she only had a few weeks until September, when she'd begin her PGCE qualification and the hard slog that ensued.

Thankfully, being a Thursday evening in July, which was the month preceding the famous Edinburgh Festival Season, gaining a reservation on the 16:30 service wasn't a huge issue? Moira herself had earned herself a pretty penny by renting out the two spare rooms in her city centre tenement to journalists in the past, her estranged husband, Angus, being a senior editor on The Scotsman.

Her bottom started to become numb and pins and needles began in her upper thighs, but as the train approached York Station, she was loathe to leave her seat and stretch her legs, lest her seat be pilfered by new passenger.  Sarah saw the old man and his wife who'd been seated opposite her since King's Cross pack up their stuff to leave - thank goodness! she thought - at least she wouldn't have to put up with the rancid stench of their Tupperware box of peeled boiled eggs for much longer!

Being a major junction, the train tarried longer at Crewe.  Very soon after, the crackly announcement began - apparently the delay had been caused by a need to change driver. Sarah was getting excited because it looked as though nobody was going to sit in the three free seats surrounding her.  Just as she removed her clunky laptop from the overhead locker, and wondered whether she could plug it in anywhere, a dark-haired thirty-something guy boarded the train, looked around and plonked himself in the seat diagonal to hers.  He grinned and pretended to wipe the sweat away from his brow and stowed his overnight bag on the seat nearest the window, taking out a heavily-thumbed Irvine Welsh paperback.

Ten minutes later, the guy asked Sarah to look after his bag whilst he went to find the buffet car, enquiring, at the same time, whether she wanted anything from there too? Sarah thought hard and asked for a small bottle of white wine, pressing a fiver into his hand whilst doing so.  He refused the money, smiled and departed up the aisle.  The man returned with the drinks twenty-five minutes later, mentioning that there had been a gang of football fans trying to source as much beer as possible, hence the delay.

Sarah duly poured her wine and he cracked open his beer and they fell into easy conversation.  The guy's name was Niall and he was en-route to Glasgow Central, ostensibly to 'catch up with an old friend', but mostly to escape the hustle and bustle of Crewe, such as it was.  Sarah purchased additional drinks for the pair of them from the trolley service which pushed its way down the aisles.  Time ticked on and the train soon passed Durham.

At this point, Niall stared into Sarah's eyes and said; "the next station's Newcastle, how about we break our journey there and grab a proper meal to soak up all of this booze, eh?  We can catch a later train."

"I really can't," she replied "my ticket's inflexible and most of all, I hardly know you - you may be a murderer who specifically targets lone women on trains clutching retro cassette players!"

Niall flashed a wolfish grin and said "no worries," and then excused himself to go to the toilet. Newcastle Station came and went, but he didn't return from the direction of the WC, which was located up in Coach B.  Sarah noted that he'd left his Nike sports bag lying on the seat opposite hers, but was still under the impression that he'd return.  However, as the train left Alnmouth his seat remained empty.  There was a huge gap between stops, so Sarah plugged back into her cassette player and drifted asleep until she found that the train had halted at a country station and that there were two Railway Police Officers briskly shaking her awake.

 

Uniqlo Ultra Stretch Skinny Jeans

It was the popular parenting website Mumsnet which first alerted me to the benefits of wearing the Uniqlo Ultra Stretch Skinny Jean.  Unlike many jeans of this nature, they don't bag, sag or end up half way down your derriere by the middle of the day - so perfect for mothers to wear on an almost daily basis. Don't be too concerned about the Japanese sizing - as you can see from the pictures, I wear a 32W/33L, which is a huge amount of vanity sizing because the actual waist measurement equates to 35 inches and that's taking into account the unstretched total.  I am currently a size UK16, sometimes a UK18 (eeek!!) and yes, they do fit me rather well.  The actual body and garment measurements provided on the Uniqlo website are pretty accurate too.

Pictured are the the three new pairs which arrived from the Uniqlo website today. They are #05 Grey; #65 Blue and #67 Blue.  All are sized 32/33.  I often find that the largest size, 32/33 isn't always in stock in the London stores.

Here's a close up of the label.

Pictured are three of my older pairs - I know that once of them is #04 (Light) Grey and #69 Navy.  The other is a much lighter, almost 1980s wash distressed denim wash which I purchased from one of the Regent Street Store.  I'm pretty sure that that colourway has been discountinued.

Finally, here are the other colours I have in the wardrobe - the black one is, surprisingly, #09 Black, a light blue (specific colour unknown) and a dark grey, which is one of the high waisted styles which was sold in about 2013ish and was removed from stock after one or two seasons (boo!)

Retailing in the UK at a very reasonable £34.90 I couldn't recommend them enough!

Board Games

Now I have always loved board games. Why? You may ask? Well, we've always owned a great deal of them. My Mother used to purchase them from the various jumble sales she used to help out at over in the church hall. Of course, being second-hand, many of them had essential pieces missing.

Here's a selection of the current games in the family collection:

I've played some of them, with perhaps the exception of Spot The Intro and Jenga. When I was growing up, my older brother used to upset me by ensuring that my pawn was sent back to the beginning in the aptly named game Fraustration. Nice.

I've Got Big Feet: Get Used To It!

Oh yes I do, really big - a size 9 in the UK and a 43 in Europe. In Nike sizes  (she who was the Greek Goddess of overpriced, but oh so comfortable and colourful trainers) I'm a whopping 44. Whoa there, man that's big.

See, I did *tell* you they were big.

Vintage TV

I have clearly started writing this blog entry, but to date haven't yet finished it.  It's just to say that I really rate Vintage TV, which is available on Cable TV or via their website: http://www.vintage.tv/

Yes, I'm middle-aged now, but I really adore their playlist, which tends to consist of 50s/60s/70s/80s and 90s stuff, which is perfect for me.  As well as a wealth of videos, some of which seem to consist of various pieces of newsreel joined together as music videos didn't really exist until the very early 80s, but that's fine, albeit rather literal at times.  Akin to the accompanying video for Stuck In The Middle With You by Steelers Wheel or Wood Beez by Scritti Politti - the former featuring a clown and a joker, respectively and the latter - some, er wood and a swarm of bees.  Yes, really.

The documentary/talk shows I favour are: Neil McCormick's Needle Time, where the Telegraph music journalist talks to the movers, shakers and veterans of the world of pop, rock and soul.  Sometimes I give it a swerve if it features, say, somebody from X-Factor or any other talent show, but more often than not, it's really interesting.  Janice Long's Album Review Show is also good, although there haven't been any new episodes broadcast for a while now - maybe they've run out of LPs to feature?  I sincerely doubt it though.  They seemed to have bulldozed The 10 Bar Club in Tin Pan Alley, London though where it was filmed - maybe that's why?  Finally, there's My Vintage where a musician chooses his or her favourite tracks from the past and explains their significance. More often than not, the choices are fairly samey, which I guess has everything to do with Vintage TV's playlist limitations, more than say, personal choice?  One thing's for certain though - it's mandatory to praise the influence of David Bowie and/or Kate Bush to the hilt.  Fair's fair and all that.

NikeFuelBand: Winning The Hour

Why, oh why do I feel the need to do this?  The case in point is that I managed to rack up 17 hours won in one day last week as shown in the photograph below:

Yes really - basically in NikeSpeak 'Winning The Hour' on the NikeFuelBandSE means that you've managed to burn at least six NikeFuelPoints for five consecutive minutes in each hour.  If I'm walking purposefully that's fine (as long as I swing my arms), but otherwise I need to carry out a little dance singing a little ditty my son has come to love entitled "Win The Hour, Win The Hour etc".  Failing that and assuming that I'm home*, there's always the trampoline, which I'm planning to jump on once I've completed writing this post. 

The picture above shows a huge amount of NikeFuel I've burnt during one busy day.  It's like a game and is therefore very addictive to keep beating one's existing records.  I suppose the bottom line should be whether I've lost any weight since owning the band and the answer's a definite no.  Shucks.  I must lay off of the chocolate I suppose?  That doesn't really help. 

* I don't have a trampoline at work, more's the pity, although it would be a complete Health and Safety nightmare wouldn't it?