General Blurb

Had a really good night last night. went for a drink with Kate, my old colleague. Went to y Mochyn and had a really good catch-up and chin-wag.

Did some dreading today, been quite a while since I last did that. Business seems to have dropped off. I put it down to the summer season, everyone's on holiday or broke.

Heulwen's in France, and Eric's moved back there because his course is over now. House is really quiet - it's quite nice actually ;)

Spent the day playing with Celtx some more. I'm working on an adaptation of The Children of Lir and a couple of original pieces. It's a lot of fun, and the programme has a website and forum where people showcase their work. I've been having as much fun reading other people's as writing my own. Just commented on a guy's slasher/killer teen flick. It was highly entertaining and well written. If I don't get the VSO job I think I’m going to try working my way back into the arts somehow - find me a job with time to write.

As for the VSO thing, still haven't heard anything. The postal strike yesterday has apparently caused a backlog. Wasn't any post today either, and won't be tomorrow because it's Sunday, so expect I’ll hear either Monday or Tuesday.

Getting up early tomorrow to go interview another research participant and off to Somerset on Monday to talk to a Police Link Officer for the Deaf (PLOD). All coming together nicely, though I’m still short on hearing participants. I need to pull my finger out on that front, but I’m not worrying too much - there are so many hearing people! ;)

Dizzy - My Head is Spinning

Dead on Arrival - Skesis

 

What a pooey day. Was supposed to be interviewing another person for my research today but, about an hour and a half before I was due to get there, I suddenly had a massive auric migraine :( Luckily the person's been really understanding and I’ve rearranged for Sunday morning, but it's been a yucky day and I’m still feeling a bit fragile.

It's the weirdest experience in the world. I used to get proper migraines, maybe one every 3-4 years. Really rare but incredibly painful, usually involving the doctor coming out to rescue me with magical little white pills or injections on my bum! Seriously debilitating.

It used to be that I’d get warning symptoms. Usually the left side of my face and my left arm would go completely dead. Then I’d start to lose my balance, my speech would slur, and I’d feel really disoriented. All that would suddenly stop and about three hours later the pain would hit. In the past couple of years something's changed.

Now I don't get the pain (good thing) but the symptoms are faaar worse (bad thing). Usually I get the visual hallucinations first. It's hard to explain, but there are colours everywhere. Bit like LSA - really wavy lines, spinning tunnel vision, and sometimes vivid auric colours around things like my hand. 

Once, I was walking up the stairs and I became completely aware of my hand next to me. It was slightly blue and I jumped because I was convinced it wasn't my hand; it wasn't attached to my body, or I wasn't in control of the hand. It was the weirdest sensation. I also get something like reverse Alice in Wonderland Syndrome where things don't look small, they look bigger or different dimensions. I start walking into things, get really strong numbness, especially in my left hand/arm, and the left side of my face. Sometimes it makes me feel like parts of my body aren't my own. I’ll touch the back of my teeth with my tongue and feel convinced they aren't my teeth, or that there's something on them, or they're a different shape to the way they actually are. It's hideously disorienting and sounds daft when you try and explain it. 

Bit like mushroom distortions, but more unsettling because you know you haven't taken anything. Then things spin. It's just like being really drunk. You're glued to the bed and have to lie down and close your eyes. I start humming and rocking a little just to keep calm because moving gently is nicer than lying completely still - sort of soothing.

I'm so glad I don't get the pain anymore, that used to be horrific. A couple of times the doctors who came out suggested admitting me to hospital because the symptoms and pain level are similar to meningitis, apparently. I never went though. The only time I did was when I had a three day migraine and had to get injections to stop me vomiting and falling over. I honestly thought I was going to die that time. It's like your head is a melon. Someone has it in this massive clamp and keeps turning the screw. You think you're going to implode, and almost wish you would because it would be far better than the pain you're feeling. It's agonising.

Auric migraines are usually proceeded by pain, but the past couple of times this hasn't happened. I just get a slight headache or feel groggy and sick, like I’ve drunk too much. That's how I’m feeling now. Trying to concentrate on things like computer screens tend to make it worse, but it's sooo boring sitting there feeling crappy. The worst is over now, but I was really upset about the interview. It's so hard to get interviewees and I didn't want to mess him about incase he changed his mind. Luckily it's okay and he was really understanding. It would have been way too dangerous to get in a car. I could barely take two steps in a straight line.

Think it's the past week catching up with me - Mum's, horseying, the interview in London - lots of travelling, quite a bit of stress, short period of time. Plus I hadn't eaten and that is one of my major triggers.

Going to relax today, maybe play with Celtx a bit more and watch some movies. I finally managed to watch Perfume last night. Loved it. Thought they did the book justice, which is a rare feat. Really well done.

The Big Day :o/

Ugh. I've just got back from London and the VSO interview. It was intense :(

I travelled down to Lewisham on Monday night to stay with my best mate Cas, and her husband Sean, as the cost of getting a train to London and back was astronomical. Unfortunately, I got stuck on the M25 on the way there as it's Wimbledon weekend *sigh*

Had a lovely night. Cas cooked chickpea curry and Bombay potatoes (yummy) and we drank wine whilst watching Silent Hill. Didn't stay up too late as I had to be in Putney by 9am the next morning.

I couldn't really sleep that well, so I was up by half-five and out by 6:15-ish. Got the train to Charing Cross, hopped over to Embankment, then took the District Line to East Putney. Got there about an hour early and had a vegy fry-up in a local greasy spoon, which set me up for the day.

There were only five of us for the assessment day. Apparently they usually have 8-12, and two of ours were together - planning to go as a family with their kids.

It was a seriously intense day. Technically informal and relaxed, but you were under the microscope the whole time, and I was aware that I was by far the youngest and least experienced of the group.

The first assessment involved us having to make notebooks from newspapers, basically set up a production line. We had three attempts to increase productivity and reduce wastage. We did okay.

Then we each had a 45 minute one-on-one interview. It was really personal, asking about previous relationships, alcohol, habits etc. and also grilling us on our working ethos and experience. This was pretty stressful - I came out wishing I’d said some things I forgot to say, and wishing I’d not said some of the things I had! Always the way.

Then we had another group exercise which was quite good fun. We'd all been given a scenario which involved turning up to your placement to find your accommodation hadn't been booked (apparently based on real volunteer experiences) and you had a list of five possible options as to what to do next. We each had to pick one option and explain why we'd do that above the others. Then we had to discuss in a group for half an hour and all come to a united decision on just one option. It wasn't until we started discussing it that we realised that each person had some additional information about one of the options. It was clever because what seemed like a good idea at first, wasn't when you had the full information about it, which you only got by checking what everyone else had. We did well at this.

Then we each had to draw a spider diagram showing what we'd learned, what we'd enjoyed, and what we found difficult about the day, and give an individual presentation to the group. This was the last task.

It was full-on: 9am-3:30. By the end I was knackered. Going riding on Sunday was perhaps not the most strategic move either, as I hurt all over and have pretty raw blisters from not wearing gloves. Still, it was fun, and I doubt I’d have been any less tired if I hadn't.

Was a really long drive home, too. Accident in London meant the traffic was crawling worse than on the way in. I'm a tired, tired, girlie and plan on sleeping all day tomorrow.

I have absolutely no idea how it went. I think it's about 50/50. I gave it my best shot, but if I don't get it I think it's probably because I don't have enough experience in the field yet. The others were a Financial Advisor, Business Manager, and Farmer. We'll see what happens. I should find out in the next seven days. Fingers crossed, but won't hold my breath in case I go blue. Might need to consider a plan B.

Giddyup

Gypsy Vanner

I've had a brilliant day today but now I have a sore botty. I found an excellent stable out near Port Talbot - it's in the middle of the most stunning hills and forests. It looked like something out of Lord of the Rings and we kept expecting Gandalf to appear in the middle of the road!

I went on a two hour hack on a beautiful skewbald called Lenox. He really was a good mount for me - calm but not lazy, although he did start tripping a bit halfway. It was a really relaxed hack, but we picked up the pace after about an hour, along this narrow mud lane that went up a steep hill into thick woods. We broke into a fast canter at this point. I was nervous because it's been a long time since I was on a horse proper. I helped a friend out at her stable last New Year and had a play about then, but only in the arena. Didn't get any real pace up. I'd been looking forward to this and dreading it at the same time, uncertain whether my balance would last :op 

We went full-pelt up this hill. Uneven ground beneath, and a sheer drop-off to the left that went down, down, down into a river gorge. Because Lennie had been tripping a bit at trot, I had a horrid image of him doing it at canter, which would have thrown me over his head and down the ravine! But he was brilliant and maintained a steady pace throughout, just coming up a little short at the end when the pony in front stopped suddenly. I landed my inner thigh on the pummel, so feeling a bit tender when I sit down now lol 

Importantly, I remained in the saddle. The lady behind me had travelled over from London for the weekend. She said that when we took off, and she saw the drop, she started singing The Sound of Music in her head to keep herself calm! I think that would have made me turn the horse towards the drop.

Other than the instructors, none of us were particularly gifted riders. Like I say, it's been a couple of years since I did anything like this. Last time I was on my own (there were 8 of us in this hack) and the instructors I went with were far too experienced for me. They kept breaking into canter, pushing gallop, down really over-hung lanes in the Forest of Dean. Put me off doing it again because I was just trying to find my equestrian feet. Luckily for me, but unfortunately for the rider on that occasion, one of the horses slipped badly turning a corner (too fast in mud) and took a tumble on its rider. We ended up slowing the pace right down and walking back. Not a nice thing to happen, but I was relieved because, if we'd carried on at that pace, it probably would have been me.

This stable near Port Talbot was completely different. They are so friendly. Really put you at ease, but also pushed you a little - just enough - which was nice. Both myself and Lennie were chomping at the bit to let loose, and we got the chance. He would have carried on happily if we'd been able to. Maybe next time. 

Despite the initial nerves, I relaxed into it pretty well. It's easier to canter than to trot because you do get that lovely rockinghorse motion. You feel yourself slide deep into the saddle. There is something sensual about horses lol Good book by Mary Midkiff entitled She Flies Without Wings, which explores the relationship between women and horses. Might go dig it out again.

I'm planning on doing another couple of two-hour treks this month and next, just to build up my muscles, because I’m walking like John Wayne at the moment. It's pretty embarrassing. They do a three-hour advanced hack and I was thinking about doing that as a treat for handing in my dissertation later this year. See how my body is holding up by then. I have to admit that, by the end of the two hours (we overran slightly), I was seriously ready to dismount. My legs had turned to jelly and I had big blisters between my fingers because I didn't wear gloves. Happens every time, and I completely forgot about it because it's been that long. 

I also thought about booking an hour's private tuition to refresh myself on jumping. When I was a kid I was pretty fearless and there was this adorable pony at Holdenby, my old stables, who was loved by every young rider. His name was Angus, and I won a time trial trophy for speed jumping on him. I'm curious to know what a full-sized horse could do.

I think that the point about riding horses and becoming a good rider (and I may be wrong about this) is less about technique - because there are only so many ways you can hold onto a horse - and more about learning not to fear them. Especially as adults, when there's a lot further to fall. One of the instructors today said that she thought it was better when people were a bit naive - that they rode better - because when you know what they can actually do, what they're capable of, you lose your nerve and they know it. 

I think that's right. Seeing that pretty nasty accident I mentioned above, and knowing a horse at Holdenby that was put down because one of the others kicked him - and the stories of accidents that have occurred - it's not the safest of sports. As an adult I think you're more aware of your own mortality and it stops you getting into the rhythm of the horse. When I relaxed into the canter, my breathing and the horse's were one, and time felt like it slowed down. It's a wonderful feeling, and I think that's why people keep doing it despite the dangers.

The biggest danger was getting back into a four-tyred beast. I was almost incapable of driving the car!

One other concern I had is that I’m hugely allergic to horses. I dosed myself right up, and didn't have a single itchy moment! Even my eyes were fine. I read somewhere that vitamin C is really good for allergies. Yesterday and today, I took an antihistamine and two large doses of vit C. I also avoided alcohol, milk and tabacco for 24 hours beforehand. The combination seems to work but anti-Hs make me feel all cotton-woolly, like I’m coming down with a cold. Don't like them. Next time I’ll try just taking one on the day but keeping the vit C level up. I was so relieved about that, though, because it's hideous otherwise - I come out in big red patches, my eyes gunk up and my nose runs constantly. Horrid.

[NB 2013: After extensive further experimentation, I can thoroughly recommend Vitamine C as an antidote to horse allergy. Take 1000mg a couple of hours before you go riding and you'll be absolutely fine. Change clothes and shower when you get back so you're not exposed once it wears off. If it's your first time around horses for a while, take one the night before, too. I've found it to be a miracle cure, and the only one you need.]

The weather was amazing. It was forecast to rain and, on the way, there were showers. On the way back it was torrential. But all the time we were out it was glorious sunshine. I just wore a strappy top and I’ve caught the sun a bit on my shoulders. Also test-drove my new half-chaps, which I bought off eBay the other week when this horsy bug first started to nibble at me. They're ace and make a world of difference - no seam burn up my leg, plus they keep the mud off. I'm thinking of investigating in a hat, and definitely some gloves. Maybe even a silk if I’m feeling adventurous. I see it as an investment. It's all equipment I’d take with me abroad if I get the Rwanda job and they have horses. Not a bad form of transport, but also a very enjoyable way to get around :) Keep me fit at least.

So, here's to horses - especially Lenox. He was very kind to me. And here's to getting back in shape in the saddle!

Gawd Bless the Tax Man

Just got back from a rather busy few days, but it began with a very nice surprise. I woke up on Thursday morning to find a letter from the tax man saying that I had been paying tax that I shouldn't have paid in 06/07 and they have issues me a rebate in excess of £400! Thank you very much Mr. Tax Man, that's going straight into my travel fund.

I then got in the car and drove to Mum's as she lives in an area of the country that made it easier to get to one of my MA research participants. On the Saturday, I drove off to meet said participant and conduct my first BSL interview. Thanks to the support of the BDA I now have a full Deaf research corpus of around 6-7 people. I also made a random acquaintance who proved to be a perfect fit for the hearing group. I interviewed him whilst I was at it, however I am slightly worried about the hearing corpus as it's proving really difficult to find people :( Still, as one Deaf lady pointed out 'the hearing world is larger.' So, if I’ve managed to find enough Deaf people, I should be able to find enough hearing eventually.

I now have the unenviable task of sitting down and transcribing the video and audio interviews - which takes forever. Still, it'll be worth it.

Also saw my brother, Bill, and nephew, Damian, at Mum's.

Got back today to find the half-chaps I ordered have arrived. I developed the sudden urge to start riding again the other day, and found an absolutely lovely stables out towards Port Talbot. They were really friendly and run a two hour hack on Saturdays and Sundays. I'm planning to go tomorrow. Only problem being that I’m terribly allergic to horses - so's my mum! I didn't used to be as a kid. Used to go riding every week for many years, but in the past few years it's been unbearable. 

However, I’m going to brave it. I'm dosing myself up with antihistamines. Apparently, high doses of vitamin C are extremely helpful, plus cider vinegar! So, I’m going to take everything and see what happens. I haven't been on a horse since New Year's Day, when I went and helped a friend muck-out her stables and had a bit of a play afterwards. It was a wonderful day. My Nana died at Christmas, so I was a bit low, but the whole sky was filled with rainbows that day.It was just lovely spending that time doing some hard physical labour and getting close to the animals. Love the smell of horses, even if they do make me red, itchy and give me gunky eyes!

So, all done. Feeling much more relieved now the dissertation is coming along. Bit tired from doing a mad dash across the country, though. I have more travelling to come this week. It's weird the ways you can find to distract yourself. Last week I wrote a 16,500 word story for fun in four days. Yet I struggled to come up with 1,500 words for an introduction to my dissertation. Strange huh? 

Abashfully, the story was for a slightly geeky fan site about Pitch Black/The Chronicles of Riddick. I am not at all proud of myself, although the site manager did say that he really liked it and that it was 'very well written' - I’m not so sure about 'well', but it was certainly written lol It's funny, I seem to be at my most creative when I have something else I should be doing. Last time I had an essay to write, I wrote a three act period drama instead...ho hum.

I indulged by downloading an online book about writing movie scripts the other day. It was on a whim. But then, on a whim, I also downloaded a script formatting programme - it's really quite good fun. Transcribing interviews isn't that dissimilar to writing character dialogue. Certainly makes you more aware of the way people naturally speak.

Must not get too distracted, though. Must focus on degree! Must...not...watch...DVDs....

Oooh, look! My Tesco's DVD rentals have just arrived! :))

My Poetry

Hey, this is what blogs are for, isn't it? Unleashing upon the unsuspecting world scribblings and verses that none would deign to read elsewhere lol

These are a few little ditties I though up years ago (pre-uni days for most). But, before I commence, I just have to say - go out and buy:

THE PENGUIN OF DEATH

by Edward Monkton. You shall not be disappointed! :)

And so to my ramblings. I tend to either write ten-page epics or short little ditties, this is a fumbling together of the latter...

Paper Gods

In books on shelves my gods are stacked,
In sentences, words and lines,
On every page is sanctity wrote
Encased: the antiquity of time.
My helpful gods and Celtic heroes
Fill the highest shelves,
Whilst down below I keep the beasts,
Fomorii, goblins, elves.
I could not break the pristine covers,
To preserve them, none are read.
So although these books are weighed with knowledge,
There’s nothing in my head.

Cast Away Feather Bay

Beyond the rolling waves, in the corners of my mind,
The thunder rolls in ripples on the lake of all mankind.
Somewhere in the recess of my pupil dotted eyes,
You can almost see the purple dawn of those forbidden skies.
Those are the realms of all I am – the waters I baptised,
The sound of love, of lust and dreams, the grit of silent cries.
Through my flesh, my blood and bones, beyond all mental thought
The hands of gods and demons in fires white-hot have wrought
This glimmer of existence – my inner, ‘sacred spark’
The part of dawn that lingers on and never knows the dark.

Right Worker

Under the stars beneath shadows blue
You work through the night to the dawn misted hue
Carefully threading those gossamer strands,
Working the waters ‘twixt fingers and hand.
Spinning the threads into intricate webs;
Feeding these dreams inside of my head.

Tasting the Rain

Glass beaded sky, lapis lazuli high
As blue as the moon in Indigo Rangoon.
Throw down your tears, weep to my song
Lacerate my mouth, bleed words from my tongue.

Charloteen

It was in the summer blazon when I first beheld her face:
Fresh as dew and brazen like a vixen to the chase.
She licked her fleshy tongue around the moisture of her lips
I felt my phallus throbbing to amend her wicked tricks.
She walked on air and water, she sang like bird and bear
But all of this was second to the golden in her hair.
My Charloteen, my wonder, my hussy harlot whore,
I would have paid a thousand pounds to taste the dress she wore.
Yet the funny thing about the girl, the part I almost missed,
It was not talk nor chatter, nor the numbing of her kiss;
The only part about her that I always felt so wrong,
Was that she danced for summer, but by autumn she was gone.

The Kite Man

In the evening of each day, a man stands: nameless, faceless;
Grey against a grey backdrop sky. A silhouette in the park.
From my high rise window, looking out across the communal kitchen
In my mind's eye I see a great figure, no less than a magician
Twisting invisible threads in his weather-chapped hands
Whilst above great eagles soar with wings of glinting colours:
Scarlet red, darkest blue, vivid turquoise and sunshine yellow.

Every evening of every day, a man stands: namelessly, facelessly
Cutting great lesions in the dulled clouds, to allow the colour through.

Marj

Farrington's Farm Shop

Just got back from a brilliant weekend in Stratton-on-the-Foss, Somerset, visiting Marj, who is Dad's partner's mum. Was really good and thoroughly relaxing. Nice escape from the trauma of dissertation. Went down on the Friday evening and we got Chinese take-out. Weather was a bit crazy though - been tipping it down, huge flooding in Birmingham. Drove under a double rainbow after the bridge - one end was illuminating the power station to the South. I thought 'hmm, there ain't no crock of gold under that - perhaps some Leprechauns though.' ;)

Arrived under very dramatic skies, but it cheered up on Saturday and we took Marj for a drive about. Started at Farrington’s for the traditional vegy fry-up and a little shop. Then went to Weston-Super-Mare and took the miniature trains down the seafront. I went for a walk out on the beach. The tide was miles out, but I thought I’d try walking to it until I got part-way out and realised the sand turned to mud! Really deep squelchy mud! So I gingerly made my way back, trying not to slip over, and dug for enough water to wash my feet. Interesting. Hundreds of those sand worms.

Then we went for a drive to Cadbury's garden centre, which is this huge place selling just about every plant and animal you could think of. They had quite a few snakes, and I got a bit nostalgic about Neidr, but in a way it's good she found her freedom as I’m skipping the country.

I bought a couple of poetry books. One of them is phenomenal, it's called The Penguin of Death. Seriously good. Short, but profound.

We drove back to Stratton and dropped Marj off as she was a bit tired after all the travelling. Then we headed out to find food, and came across a fantastic little local called the Oakhill Inn. It was amazing - real traditional local with some brilliant guest ales, friendly regulars and staff, and an entire full-page menu of vegetarian and vegan food! Was an excellent meal. Highly recommend it to anyone passing that way!

This morning we indulged in another Farrington's breaky, then we said our goodbyes and I headed back home with a punnet full of fresh Cheddar strawberries.

Good weekend :)

Closure

Oh dear, I’m sitting here in floods of tears! I've finally rented Brokeback Mountain. That bit at the end with the shirts.... :'o( It doesn't usually take much to get me blubbing, but that one certainly did the trick. Quite a good film that. Hell of a lot less violent than Boys Don't Cry, but in a similar vein. This was one of those few slow, meandering stories of life that really kept you with it all the way to the end. So sad.

*blows nose*

Perhaps my emotions are in slight hyperdrive at the moment having had about four-and-a-half hours sleep. Suki was missing her old stomping ground and had to go pick up some mail from her previous house (mail which we suspect she was sending to herself so that she would have an excuse ;) ). So, we went out for a few pints at PC's last night: Gedge, Gareth, Pete, Mark, Suki and myself. From there we headed on to Exit, and from there I’m not entirely sure what happened but it involved me falling into a vortex known as Gedgytime. He and I ended up back at his place drinking and eating potato chips with houmous.... until 7:30 in the morning :o/

When Linda left to go to work, I shared her taxi to the station, then home. It was a seriously surreal experience... I hit the sack about quarter-to eight (grateful for my black-out blinds) and slept for almost five hours. Woke feeling extremely fragile.

But yesterday was a very good day indeed! Let's just say I shifted some karma and, in the cryptic language of newspaper horoscopes: things came full-circle. Big up for my lucky panda-pants! It involved returning to a place I used to work, where things were left a little acrimoniously and some harsh words were had by all. I was a little nervous about returning, to be honest. But, for the sake of my dissertation, it was vital, and I’m so glad that I did. 

So much had changed there. The place looked really good - the blood stains had been scrubbed off the walls ;) But it was a healing experience, people were there that I hadn't seen in some time, and we got to reminiscing and laughing. It's funny when you worry about what someone thinks of you only to find that they're worrying about the exact same thing. It's a relief to clear the air and realise that you all actually like each other after all :op Aaaaanyway, enough cryptic ramblings. Suffice to say that, if I were American, I might say that I had found 'closure'. Huzah for old friends and new ventures. The world seems a sunnier place right now, even though it's p!ssing it down outside and I just heard thunder :oD

Off to Stratton-on-the-Foss in a couple of hours to spend the weekend with Dad, Marilyn 'n' Marj.

'Fat' as a Compliment

Had a lovely evening last night. I'd just cracked open a very respectable bottle of homemade apricot wine when Gareth invited me down the pub. Monday nights are Folk Night at YMD and it's about a ten minute walk from my place.

We sat and listened to the music and chatted. Afterwards he came back to help polish off that bottle of wine (and sample a parsnip and ginger one!). It was quite good stuff - 'giggle juice'. Time flew past actually, and he trundled off about 2am!

Today I’ve been checking my mail and had some replies on the Facebook VSO Rwanda forum. Here's some of the advice I’ve been given so far :op

Being a single female in Rwanda... Hmmm.

1. You will get about a million marriage proposals
2. You will get called "fat" as a compliment (whether you are or not) and will have to learn to live with it
3. You will be asked why you have no husband or children
4. You will have a great time despite all this!

and:

a) 50% of vols come back with a husband
b) 90% of vols come back fatter due to the huge quantities of melange being eaten daily

I found this quite entertaining as I’d be getting fatter but still considered beautiful lol fantastic. I've also been warned by a returned volunteer that:

The people are very nice, friendly and helpful. You cannot get lost anywhere because you will find people around who will show you the way. On the other hand seeing white people is still a novelty and children like to follow white people around and generally everybody will call you 'muzungu'. Everybody, everywhere and always! One must be prepared for that. After a tiring day when you just want to pop out to the shop and you just wish you were invisible, it is rather stressful to be shouted at and called muzungu.

This was also in the VSO briefing.

Still sounds pretty good, though. Lots of really positive experiences coming back. Fingers crossed for 26th.

King Dreads II

I am just so proud of myself that I have to devote an entire post to this :op Claire sent me the photos from last Saturday. It was one heck of a job and really put all my dreading skills to the test!

Tim has nine-year-old natural dreads that have never been touched! The two main problems were top-frizz/loose hair and congoing at the back (where dreads had grown together to form a solid mat of hair). My job was to sort out the frizz and separate the congoed ones into individual dreads.

The frizz was pretty standard work, it's what most tidy-up session involve, but you could really see the difference:

Before:

After:

The congoing was far more tricky. I'm used to merging small dreads to make larger ones, but taking them apart was a whole other kettle of fish, especially when they had got to this state:

What a challenge! It was like cutting through bedding foam, it was so thick and springy. I managed to get about five/six dreads out of the mass. We termed them 'rescue dreads'! :op There were a couple of thinner dreads growing out of the mass. I had to be careful to structure it so that they were left with enough of the thickness to merge into and provide structure (basically so they didn't fall off!). I have to admit to being a bit nervous when I first started, but with a good pair of scissors:

(thanks Claire!) and some patience, we managed to turn Tim into a walking work of art:

What more can I say? Job done :)

King Dreads and BBQ

Yesterday, I went to Bristol to tidy-up a guy who had nine-year-old mature dreads! They were seriously impressive, but it was a real test of my skills. I'm used to merging small dreads together, but taking them apart is a whole other matter. These dreads were all the way down his back, but the ones on the back of his head had congoed together to form a massive lump of hair about twice the breadth of my arm!

With some skill and patience, I managed to cut and separate them out into five or six very respectable dreads, which we termed 'rescue dreads' lol I will post some pictures of them soon - they really were stunning. Thanks to Claire & Tim for their hospitality, and a very yummy mozzarella and sweet chilli sandwich!

After about four hours dreading, I got back in the car and headed for home only to get stuck in stand-still traffic between there and the bridge. They were doing repairs and the M4 was down to one lane of traffic. Fine, I was calm, had the music on and was enjoying the weather. But what really p!sses me off is that, after being stuck at their convenience for that length of time, you finally do get across the bridge and the b*st*rds still charge you £5.10!

The toll really hacks me off. It was the same when Fathers for Justice managed to get onto it and they closed the bridge for hours. We all got diverted over the old one. Took forever, and they still charged us full price when it was their fault for the security breach. If the guy had been carrying semtex and set it off halfway across, I swear they'd still have charged the last few cars that made it before they'd open the barrier and let them through. It's crazy it's allowed to continue. When I first moved here it was about £4.20 to cross the bridge, now it's £5.10 and it just keeps going up. Most of it apparently goes to lining the pockets of the French company that own it. It's just so disgusting because there isn't any other option for people who regularly commute between Wales and the South West. Luckily, I go North up the M50 to see Mum and Dad, so avoid the bridges altogether most of the time.

Aaaanyway. When I finally did get back, I went via my friend John's house to pick him up, then we came back to mine to drop off the car. I got cleaned-up before we headed to Suki's house warming BBQ. Hats off to Suki for the food, it was amazing. All vegy and vegan, so I stuffed my face. Eric, Phil, Mark, Lucy and Gareth were there, amongst others, and it was a really pleasant evening. Just what I needed to unwind.

Unfortunately, the dissertation is causing me severe stress at the moment. I'm finding it really hard to find participants, both Deaf and hearing. I'll attach the official letter to the bottom of this post incase anyone can circulate it in the appropriate areas. Still, fingers crossed, I’ve got one or two leads that might turn out okay. I think dissertations are meant to be stressful. Not heard anyone say they did one that wasn't :)

On the up-side, I got the date for my VSO assessment in London. It's 26th June, so fingers crossed. Just that standing between me and Rwanda in November. I've been filling out loads of forms: CRB checks, assessment forms, position review forms, yadda yadda. All suddenly feels quite real.

Really hard not to let myself get too excited in case it doesn't happen. It's quite difficult to get to the assessment day too, because the cheapest tickets, even this far in advance, work out at around £70 return! I have to be there for 9am in Putney, which means getting the first train out of Cardiff at about 5-ish - commuter time. I'm considering driving instead. Apparently Putney is really bad for parking, but Aunty Patsy was saying Richmond or Mortlake might be a better idea, then get the train. Would still be cheaper than getting a train from Cardiff, and I quite like driving in the early morning before people start choking the roads. See how it goes.

Other than that, things are quite calm. The weather is sweltering and, living in an attic, my room is about ten degrees hotter than the rest of the house. I’m living in a sauna! I have a big desk fan, but all it seems to do is move hot air around the room :(

I suppose this means I should get out more.

I will be pressing on with my dissertation this week and hopefully things will seem better by the end. I can write the Introduction and Literature Review in the meantime.

Ninth Wave

Last night I went to Cardiff Pagan Moot at the Rummer. It was my third time. I first went last October when I delivered a talk on Dream Drugs and Shamanic Dreamstate, which went down pretty well. I was basically exploring the links between endogenous (naturally/biologically produced) entheogenic drugs and external entheogens; looking at their use in shamanic cultures and their role in OBEs and lucidity. I'll write it up some other time.

I was deeply envious of Kim last night. She was giving a talk entitled:

Cursing, Burying, Crushing, and Piercing: Voodoo dolls from Ancient Mesopotamia, Egypt, Greece, and Rome, all the way through Europe in the Middle Ages, and right into modern America. With complete cast of witches, pharoahs, old wives, witch hunters, Hermetic magicians, and Greek dramatists.

:op

The reason I was envious was because this is her MA thesis. I tentatively attempted to introduce my interests in entheogenic dreamstate to my MA, but got the thumbs down. I was accused of introducing Anthropology and other such disgusting elements to the study of Linguistics lol So I went back to writing about Deaf people, and all was forgiven.

I met a woman called Rose at the moot. On the way home she was telling me that her friend is doing a dissertation on, believe it or not, Kate Bush's album The Ninth Wave. Apparently her friend, knowing her to be Pagan, had been asking about Nordic traditions in relation to the meaning of the album. Always one to put my library to use, I suggested she look at Celtic, rather than Nordic, mythology. I remembered reading something a long time back in Caitlín Matthew's The Celtic Tradition (1989) on the subject. So, for those also interested in the deeper folkloric implications of Kate Bush's work:

Invasions from Beyond the Ninth Wave

'Some peoples, such as the Romans, think of their myths historically, the Irish think of their history mythologically'. This statement stands for all Celtic peoples, but it is among the Irish texts that we find the most compelling evidence for conscious mythic history. The Book of Invasions details the waves of invaders who came to Ireland, and is an attempt to synthesise bardic and oral memory with biblical tradition. The result is a magical epic of intricate detail, giving a wealth of story.

In Celtic tradition, the ninth wave was the designated boundary of the land, beyond which were the neutral seas and foreign countries. To be exiled was to 'go beyond the ninth wave'. Frequently we read of this most extreme of Celtic punishments for offenders: to be set adrift in a boat with neither oars, sails nor rudder, with only a knife and some fresh water. At the mercy of the seas, few survived, but those who did were fated to perform great deeds which shape the outcome of history...(p.2)

However, Wikipedia (and so, presumably, Kate Bush herself) attributed it to a poem by Tennyson.

So, yes. There's currently talk of holding another Tinkinswood bash for Solstice. I was asked whether I’d like to dis-organise one, but declined. It was a one-off for me, although I’m happy people want to keep it up and use the land in the way it should be. I'll probably go if it materialises. It was a stunning event.

I finally finished reading Pride & Prejudice the other day. A nice hard-back edition, yet lightweight for carrying around coffee shops. It was good. Not stunning, but good. Doesn't top Wuthering Heights. Though I still rather like the 2005 film which, in many people's eyes, probably makes me unworthy even to turn the pages.

I am now slogging my way through a slightly more factual and academic text: Religion and the Decline of Magic: Studies in Popular Beliefs in Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century England. I'm actually rather enjoying it, and it raises some insightful points about the time. Goes nicely with my slightly harder-to-get-hold-of copy of Witchcraft and Demonianism by C. L'estrange Ewen which is a wonderful documentation of just about every witch trial in England and Wales during the hunts. I bought it for the special reference to the Guilsborough Witches alluded to by the Renton sisters in the Record of Guilsborough, Nortoft & Hollowell which, by the way, would make someone some pocket money. It's sold for around a tenner at the local shop, yet commands prices upwards of £25 online. I have, ashamedly, just splashed out probably more than it's worth on an 1800's copy of Sternberg's Dialect and Folk-Lore of Northamptonshire. It is a lovely addition to the family, though.

Suki's Moving

After Mark's moving last week, it was Suki's turn yesterday. Phil drove his VW camper over to her old place off City Road and met Gedge there. They packed everything into the van and her car, then drove to the new pad on Kings Road.

It's an absolutely beautiful house, with a seriously large bathroom. She's moving in with our other friend Lucy (Mark's girlfriend) and their friend Lisa. Two Social Workers and a Substance Abuse Advisor! Best place to go and get trollied of an evening, and all close to Y Mochyn Du. So, I’m no longer the only one over this side of town. They're about a 10 minute walk from my place.

Suki texted me when they set off from the old place and I met them there to help unload. Once that was done, we chilled in the garden, basking in the beautiful sunshine with beer. Mark turned up briefly to donate his old desk to their office, but had to head off again soon after as his parents are visiting and, for some reason, didn't fancy partaking in back-breaking labour during their stay. Strange.

Our friend Gareth turned up for a bit, too. Cunningly just between finishing the unloading and heading to the pub. Long enough to enjoy a cold bevy in the sunshine without partaking in the back-breaking labour. Strange.

I'm joking, though. Suki's stuff was really light and, unlike Mark, she's living on the ground floor, not the top flight of three sets of stairs, so it was pretty easy-going.

I headed home soon after, to get changed and cool down (it was a boiling day), and to collect my housemate Eric (who is actually 24/25, not 27 as originally presumed - another thing Heulwen got a little muddled on ;) ) then met Phil, Gedge & Suki down Y Mochyn to commence daytime drinking. Phil's friend Laura-May was also out (sister to his friend Alex back in Pompy).

We had a good drink there then headed to Buffalo's via the Rummer. Phil and Laura went on ahead and we met them there. My friend John joined Suki, Gedge, Eric and myself at the Rummer. Buffalo's was absolutely heaving, so John and I decided to share a bottle of extortionately priced wine rather than keep trying to struggle our way to the bar. We went to drink it in the beer garden, which was so loud and full of eejits that we soon got a headache and left. I hadn't been back to Buffalo's in months, since a slight fling with one of the bouncers. Its novelty had worn a little thin - not the chilled-out lounge atmosphere it is on a weekday. It got so crowded that if you went inside to go to the toilet, you had to queue to get back out into the garden again! Very silly set-up.

So, John and I took leave of the others and headed off to Club X at about 2am, which was a silly price to get in but sooo much nicer atmosphere-wise. We sat outside chatting and drinking until the sun came up, and I managed to stagger home about half-five, so it was another day-breaker. There's something about the combination of the Rummer and Club X methinks - and John - who is a terrible influence on my poor innocent self ;)

Essentially, I’m now nursing a very dodgy hangover but, after eating and rehydrating, I’m feeling 'acceptable'. So, I’m off to the Rummer again tonight for the local Pagan moot. One of my friends there is giving a talk on the history of 'voodoo dolls', from Roman times to the present day. Should be quite interesting. I shall be sticking to the J20s and lemonade, though. I intend to be a good girl and to apologise to my body for what I have recently done to it. Perhaps I could make a new liver out of styrofoam and some sticky back plastic...

Alka-seltzer anyone?