Tag: books

Week-end: South Yorkshire edition

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Looking upwards into a church ceiling where wood and concrete form an eight-pointed star, with the gaps filled with blue, yellow, green and red stained glass

About time I did one of these again…

The good

A trip to Sheffield for the annual Ultreya GB. I missed last year’s, though I hadn’t intended to (in retrospect, my ideas of what would be possible with a small baby were somewhat unrealistic), and it was good to be back. It was quite a different experience: I was very tired (see below) and also I don’t usually spend the event climbing up and down all the available steps in the cathedral. But it all came together for me in the last hymn – a very lively Amazing Grace – with the banners lined up and the baby clapping along in delight.

Some delightful fellow passengers and some railway staff who may in fact have been angels.

The difficult and perplexing

A month’s worth of interrupted sleep has trashed my immune system, the nursery germs have pounced, and I was very wobbly earlier in the week. And I’m not a nice person when I’m ill and tired.

Two hours and forty minutes on a train, each way. The way back was more trying than the way out.

What’s working

Sloggi long pants. Do they make me feel about a hundred and two? Yes, particularly the beige ones. Is it worth it to make bare legs bearable in hot weather? Absolutely. (Yes, I am aware of the Snag ‘chub rub’ shorts. Quite apart from the hideousness of the name, I can’t see that synthetic material next the skin would help in any way, however much I like their tights.)

Reading

Quite a bit! Having read She Who Became The Sun earlier in the summer, I picked up He Who Drowned The World (Shelley Parker-Chan) when it was on offer a few weeks ago. Equally fun (in its extremely dark way); the magical realism has more of an active influence on the plot this time round. I wasn’t convinced it stuck the landing, but the overall experience was sufficiently enjoyable to render that largely irrelevant.

Also on offer recently was Sea of Tranquility (Emily St John Mandel). This was a bit of a disappointment. I read Station Eleven early in 2020 and was very struck by how vivid and alien the post-apocalyptic world was. Sea of Tranquility, by contrast, all seemed extremely twenty-first century in terms of the way that the characters thought and spoke, with the different settings just so much window-dressing. The time travel plot also didn’t work for me; I think the aim was to subvert the usual clichés, but it just felt like a cop-out.

And Kobo also suggested Consider Phlebas (Iain M. Banks) for 99p, so I decided it was probably time I tried the Culture series.

Yesterday I started One Pair of Feet (Monica Dickens) which is very entertaining so far.

Then today I picked up N or M (Agatha Christie) because it was on the floor. I am less fond of Tommy and Tuppence than I am of most of Christie’s other series detectives, so missed this one on last year’s epic re-read. But I breezed through it and then picked up Postern of Fate to remind myself what happened to the family afterwards.

Writing

Nothing to speak of, though I have been doing a little worldbuilding in my head.

Making

One ridiculously huge baby sock, and now most of one more sensible one. I also converted a little binder into an earring holder (I will try to remember to post pictures of this).

Watching

The Paralympics, on and off. I was pleased to catch Sarah Storey’s umpteenth win, as Channel 4 also showed a decent chunk of the race. (I have found both the BBC and Channel 4 very frustrating in their tendency to show fragments of an event that have a Great British Medal Hope and nothing else. But it’s probably just as well this year, because I’ve had very little telly time.)

Looking at

Ely Photographic Club’s exhibition at Babylon Arts. There were a few pieces there that made me smile, and several that were clearly very technically skilled even if not really my thing. Also, Sheffield cathedral.

Cooking

A very hot vegetable curry: the veg box contained a bag of Padrón peppers, every single one of which was the ‘really quite spicy’ variety, so unsuitable for serving as a main/side dish in the usual way. Not one of my most successful dishes, though I’m pleased with it as a creative response to a problem.

Eating

This year’s fancy Magnum flavours, an impulse buy when they were on offer in Co-op. I’m still not entirely convinced that ice cream and popping candy is a happy combination, but it’s different, I’ll give it that.

Moving

We continue our WalkRuns (being runs that are in fact mostly walks).

Noticing

Loads of dragonflies this year. Or possibly damselflies. They don’t stay still long enough for me to be able to tell the difference.

In the garden

Ripe apples. I’ve pruned all the apple trees bar one. The next job is to take out the dead box (or was it privet?) bushes that got eaten by beetles last year.

Appreciating

Cursillo. It’s totally bonkers, but there is space in there for people to be Christians and also themselves, and that is something I was missing for a long time and something for which I continue to be grateful.

And, needless to say, every night when I get to sleep before midnight and get to wake up after six.

Acquisitions

I found a little makers’ cooperative shop in Sheffield and picked up a fabric patch (to join the several I have still to sew on), a sticker, and a pair of teal stud earrings.

Line of the week

Monica Dickens, weighing up her options:

The Land Army? One saw oneself picking apples in a shady hat, or silhouetted against the skyline with a couple of plough horses, but a second look showed one tugging mangel-wurzels out of the frozen ground at five o’clock on a bitter February morning.

This coming week

The emerging routine is slightly disrupted by a committee meeting, and then at the weekend there’s an exciting sea voyage. And that’s the last excursion for a little while, and that’s probably just as well. I might even update this blog more.

Week-end: let’s try this again

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Textile artwork representing a map of the London area of Bloomsbury with quotations from notable women associated with the area
Artwork by Margaret Talbot at the Bridging the Gap exhibition at Babylon Arts

The good

Summer! It’s sunny, but it’s not too outrageously hot. I opened up the new Ffern perfume at about seven in the morning on the summer solstice. Gorgeous.

The mixed

OK, it’s a bit muggy.

The difficult and perplexing

A gallstone attack when I was out for a walk. Extremely painful and unpleasant. Had to retreat under a shady tree and be sick into a hedge in relative private. I am on the waiting list to have my gall bladder removed. I continue to wait.

What’s working

I’ve been playing around with bullet journalling, in its original iteration as a glorified to-do list, and not bothering trying to make it pretty. It’s actually working pretty well as a way to keep track of the sixteen different mixed metaphorical plates I have spinning.

Reading

I devoured She Who Became The Sun (Shelley Parker-Chan). It’s great. It’s a historical epic with a little magical realism, and is particularly inspiring to me at the moment in that the author simply decided to have fun (I am paraphrasing what she says in her acknowledgements here) and created an excellent book. I should note that it’s fairly bleak and occasionally very gory, and a few months ago I wouldn’t have been able to cope with it at all.

Elsewhere, I got through the long long nights with the whole of the Chalet School series (Elinor M. Brent-Dyer). I have gone back and begun again at the beginning (just finished Exile last night), but I also took a little side-step and tried out the Crater School series (Chaz Brenchley). Also a load of fun: it’s a pitch-perfect homage and is, you know, a boarding school story on Mars.

Then I picked up Cinderella Ate My Daughter (Peggy Orenstein), which takes a look at the consumer culture surrounding children, particularly girls. It was published in 2011, and I couldn’t help wondering how different it would look post-Frozen, and after Britney-gate. There’s also barely any mention of trans identities, which in 2024 seems an obvious angle to explore. I should probably be grateful.

Writing

Bits and pieces.

Making

A little smocked dress. I finished the front and then decided that the back also needed to be smocked, so I’m back in the tedious gathering stage.

Watching

The Great British Sewing Bee. I am behind on Doctor Who, but having been spoiled for the last couple of episodes I’m not sure that I’ll make the effort to catch up.

Looking at

Bridging the Gap, an exhibition by women textile artists, all members of EAST (East Anglian Stitch Textiles) at Babylon Arts. I was rather taken by a whimsical map of Bloomsbury embellished with quotations from notable women associated with the area, but my favourite pieces were probably Margaret Talbot‘s gorgeous landscapes.

Cooking

Beef pot roast in the Instant Pot. It’s not exactly the weather for it, but at least the pressure cooker minimises the cooking heat.

Eating

We went out to Wildwood for our anniversary; I had bruschetta, seafood linguine, and tiramisu.

Moving

A very, very gentle run-up (ha) to Couch to 5k, beginning with a lot more walking even than that routine recommends. So far, so good.

Noticing

Goldfinches!

In the garden

Complete chaos, but this evening I have managed to take the compost out, water the passion flower on the front fence, and pull up a few weeds.

Appreciating

Suddenly having a little more time to myself.

Acquisitions

Mostly clothes: four dresses from the Joanie sale, a sports bra, and ankle socks. Yesterday I took three books to the book swap cabinet at the top of the hill – and came home with two. Oh well.

Line of the week

From Cinderella Ate My Daughter:

While Zoe is cute, in a radioactive orange kind of way, her release fell short of expectations, the – ka-ching! – hope of creating a female Elmo. Even slapping a tutu on her did not help.

This coming week

What’s become the regular routine – and will be for a few weeks more – and then a very busy weekend.

That’s it for the moment. I’m hoping to keep this going, but no promises. I hope you’re all keeping well.

Back on the metaphorical bike

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A sock in the process of being darned in a weave of white, green and terracotta, held up in front of a TV screen showing a cycle race on a white road

As you might have guessed, I haven’t been writing much recently. At first I didn’t have the brain. I’ll write more about that, some time, maybe. Then I didn’t have the time. Still don’t, often. I get about ten minutes at the computer at a time before people start howling. If this post turns out very short, you’ll know why.

Instead, I’ve been exercising my creativity in more three-dimensional forms. I’ve been going for projects that I can pick up and put down again without their unravelling completely, and at the moment I’m tackling my mending pile and posting about it on Instagram under the #MendMarch hashtag. The picture on this post shows a mend on top of a mend; the new one features a long white stripe in between cypress green and terracotta, in honour of the Strade Bianche which you might just be able to make out on the TV in the background.

But I did manage to put together a list of the five best cycling novels for Shepherd. I think I’ve remarked before that there aren’t very many to choose from, and I suspect everybody puts The Rider at the top. No shame in that. It’s a brilliant book.

As for the literal bike, I’ve been out once on my faithful red town bike to go to an ultrasound appointment that didn’t happen (long story) and had a few goes on the cargo bike, which may or may not be being recalled (boring story). It’s all a bit of a waiting game, really, but we’ll get there in the end.

December Reflections 23: seasonal

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Slow Time by Waverly Fitzgerald, The Morville Year by Katherine Swift, and a bar of soap garnished with star anise and a dried bayleaf, all on a brightly coloured quilt with baby toys

I don’t know where this year’s gone. (I mean, I know exactly why it’s gone, but that isn’t quite the same thing.) Which is unusual for me, because I usually make a point of being aware of where I am in time.

These last few days, though, it’s all seemed to settle down, though not on account on anything I’ve done myself. The Morville Year, which I’d bought and immediately lost in the extra safe place in which I’d hidden the present I bought at the same time, turned up (as did the present – too late for the birthday for which it was originally intended, but just in time for Christmas). I loved The Morville Hours and the way it moves gently through the cycle of the year, and have been looking forward to reading this, a collection of related articles.

Slow Time is an old friend, a book that’s encouraged me to explore the calendar and the traditions in which I grew up. And one thing that I have already noticed about organised children’s activities is that they are very keen on seasonal themes, so it ought to get easier from here on in.

One last thing. I was amused to note, firstly that I’d run out of my previous soap bar just in time to start the Christmas Spice one – and secondly, that the one I’ve just finished (and had been using all through Advent) was called Wake Up Call. If you know, you know.

December Reflections 6: best book of 2023

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Paperback copy of Hood by Emma Donoghue and a hardback copy of Winters in the World: a journey through the Anglo-Saxon year by Eleanor Parker, both on a brightly coloured velvet patchwork scarf

Haven’t been reading much lately so had to go back some months, but here’s one fiction book and one non-fiction.

“Hood” dates from before Emma Donoghue started writing historical fiction, but has become a period piece in its own right – a snapshot of the Irish lesbian scene thirty or forty years ago. Complicated, but generally likeable, characters, and a really convincing portrait of the intricacies and contradictions of grief.

“Winters in the World” is much more recent – in fact, probably the most recent book I read this year. I think it came out late 2022. It’s lovely – a slow journey through the seasons and festivals of the year as seen through early medieval literature. Some of the pieces quoted were familiar, from church or from my long ago Eng Lit degree, but most were new to me. Much more enjoyable and edifying (she tells herself sternly) than arguing online over whether some advertising gimmick invented in 1957 is a sekrit pagan survival. (I don’t actually argue, but I do waste time and emotional energy muttering to myself about it.)

Not pictured, because on my e-reader, Plain Bad Heroines (Emily m Danforth) and Bad To The Bone (Brian Waddington) – two slick, stylish, cynical novels with what I’d like to call a side of magical realism if only that didn’t sound so much like whimsy. Which they very much weren’t.

Secret Lives (E. F. Benson)

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Paperback copy of Secret Lives by E F Benson

I’ve been having trouble reading lately (on one occasion I was woken by the thud of the book hitting the floor), but E. F. Benson, in a slightly less caustic mood than usual, hit the spot and I hoovered this up in two days. At first I thought it was just going to be Mapp and Lucia in London, and there is a bit of that about it, but it’s mostly about an ex-typing agency employee living her best life writing exactly what she wants to, getting paid squillions for it, and generally having a whale of a time in the face of snobbery both literary and social. Great fun.

Wednesday reading

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Recently finished

Unapologetic (Francis Spufford). I’d always been put off by the subtitle (‘why, despite everything, Christianity still makes surprising emotional sense’) but once I’d picked this up found it much more personal (and more readable) than I’d expected. It’s not Mere Christianity, it’s much swearier and it isn’t seeking to persuade through logic, or to argue (except when it can’t resist the temptation). It wouldn’t be a bad introduction to Christianity.

Run Away Home (Antonia Forest). This is a strange way to finish the Marlows series, except of course I don’t think it was intended as the final volume; she just never wrote anything more. It’s somewhat frustrating, because on the one hand I’d like to see the aftermath (and on the other I’d be watching between my fingers). It’s clearly a response to We Didn’t Mean To Go To Sea, but the plot runs on a succession of bad decisions as opposed to a series of unfortunate circumstances. One could argue that this makes it stronger (dunno, though: I was muttering ‘stop making excuses and just take the damn ferry!’); it certainly makes everyone less sympathetic. As the late great Susan Hall put it, Commander Walker’s famous telegram would have been just two words long.

Currently reading

I keep picking things up and putting them down again. I’m finding that books have to be a very specific size and weight in order for me to be able to read them. And they have to be reachable from the sofa. So, things that I’ve started or returned to and may yet finish include:

  • Revelations of Divine Love, Julian of Norwich (paperback, should be fine once I get it downstairs)
  • Phroso: a romance, Anthony Hope (hardback, may not happen at this time)
  • Towers in the Mist, Elizabeth Goudge (middle book of a hardback omnibus edition, not a hope)

Up next

Might have a look at my e-reader to see what I’ve been neglecting.

Other media

An awful lot of daytime TV, most of which has been quizzes. I’m starting to get fed up with all of them. I finished what’s currently available of Ghosts (the UK version; might try the US one but I understand it’s basically the same arc and I’m not sure I can tame my embarrassment squick for long enough). Then yesterday I found that ITVx had pulled Sapphire and Steel to the top of the page, presumably as a tribute to David McCallum, so watched quite a bit of that while the plumber was replacing the shower. It’s rather good, the kind of very low budget, very uncanny, almost unclassifiable thing that British TV did so well in the seventies and eighties.

Eleventh hour

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Or minus eleventh hour, I suppose. Anyway, the Bikes In Space Kickstarter has eleven hours left to run, is very nearly funded (it’ll be extremely annoying if it doesn’t quite get there), and has a brief interview with me on the updates tab. Go and have a look, and, if you were thinking of backing the project, now is very much the moment to do so.

Week-end: small adventures

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Lego model of buildings, trees, narrowboat on a river, and a London Underground train disappearing into a tunnel under a road.

I’m on Bluesky now. Having been mostly avoiding Twitter for a while now, I’ve rather lost the knack of microblogging, but for what it’s worth I’m at https://bsky.app/profile/kathleenjowitt.bsky.social.

The good

We took the baby to visit her great-grandma. This was the first trip involving an overnight stay, and went very well, all things considered.

Things change every day. Usually they get slightly easier than they were the day before.

The difficult and perplexing

The baby does not like long car journeys. I shall leave it there.

What’s working

Whingeing in a closed forum to sympathetic people. At the very least it relieves the perception of being on my own. Quite often, I’ve noticed, the problem in question removes itself quite soon afterwards. Coincidence, no doubt, but I’ll take it.

Putting the baby in a sling (see, in particular, Cooking and Moving, below).

And always, always, remembering that whatever the particular moment of difficult is, it’s temporary.

Reading

Finished Acts and Omissions; read Unseen Things Above; now need to see which of the others I have on my e-reader. I am, as ever, a little frustrated that Fox ducks out of showing us any really awful marriage, because I think that’s an important part of the conversation she’s trying to have in these books.

I got round to the Murderbot Diaries (Martha Wells) several years after everyone else and read All Systems Red late on Saturday night. It was enjoyable enough, though I wasn’t blown away.

And in between times I’ve been working my way through the Tiffany Aching books, and have finished The Wee Free Men and A Hat Full of Sky so far. I’d never read them before, and they’re lovely.

Writing

Some work on Don’t Quit The Day Job. I would like to do rather a lot more, sharpish.

And the Kickstarter for The Bicyclist’s Guide to the Galaxy, in which my story The Ride for the City (portal fantasy, Cambridge, bonding over terrible books) appears, has just over two days left to run. If you want a copy of the book, the Kickstarter is by far the quickest and most convenient way to get it, and also makes me more money.

Making

I have obtained the fabric for the skirt I was talking about last time. (Olive green twill, with some rather lovely green and red shot lining.) I have also thought about the pattern. But I’m not going to be able to start cutting out until I have an afternoon without a small person strapped to my chest.

Watching

Good Omens, season 2. Quite fun but felt rather lightweight compared with the first season.

Looking at

Some extremely impressive Lego models at Ely Brick Show. I think my favourite was the War of the Worlds diorama, but it’s a tough choice between that and the Underground station.

Cooking

One-pot things that are forgiving with regard to timings. I have some chakchouka in the slow cooker at the moment. The other day I managed to turn all the green tomatoes into green tomato chutney.

Eating

At this precise moment, jelly beans. We’ve had a couple of rather uninteresting pub meals.

Moving

We’ve instituted an evening walk. If it’s late, it’s just up and down the road, to keep within the range of the streetlights. But several times we’ve managed what used to be my morning walk, a full fifty minutes.

Noticing

A small deer (muntjac, maybe?) wandering across someone’s front garden.

In the garden

Picked some of the pears, a few of the apples, and most of the tomatoes. Which feels like a huge achievement, actually.

Appreciating

Family. The friends in my computer. A little more sleep than I was getting before.

Acquisitions

Bras. I’ve managed to lose one, which is weird and annoying.

And I’ve just ordered a travel cot. The hope is that it’ll do for naps downstairs as well as for actual travel. We’re going to need a new pram, as the baby is about to grow out of the pram bit of the existing travel system while being too small still for the pushchair bit.

The cat’s current preferred location

Various points in the sitting room; she spent most of the week on the table at my left elbow while Iwas feeding the baby. You can tell from the fluff deposit.

Line of the week

Some painfully well-observed prayer in Acts and Omissions:

And not being a Charismatic Evangelical either, he hesitates to give the Almighty matey advice in the subjunctive mood.

Monday (oh dear) snippet

A new bit from Day Job:

Why should the world that’s captured between the covers of books be one that only a tiny privileged minority inhabit? As we’ll see in the next section, even the pale, stale and male Western canon develops some significant holes if we remove those who wrote around the edges of their paid employment.

This coming week

Rather a packed schedule, actually, and a party on Saturday!

Anything you’d like to share from last week? Any hopes for this week? Share them here!

The Bicyclist’s Guide to the Galaxy – Kickstarter live now

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People cycle on a wide path across a grassy common towards a church spire

It’s that time again… this year’s Bikes in Space Kickstarter is live. In fact, it’s been live for a few days now and is already over halfway funded. You have ten days in which to join the party: backing the crowdfunder is by far the easiest way to get your hands on a copy of the book, and there are various other rewards to tempt you as well.

This year’s edition is The Bicyclist’s Guide to the Galaxy, with a theme of books and bikes. My portal fantasy story, The Ride for the City, is first in the table of contents. It’s a tribute to Cambridge, that strange city of contrasts – and to the power of books, even terrible ones, to bring people together. This book, however, is not terrible. Quite the contrary.

Support the Bikes in Space Kickstarter