http://kqnano2006.blogspot.com/
very tired this evening so last few hundred words got a bit laboured. but there it is, if you want to follow what i write this year.
3 November 2006
2 November 2006
Nano begins
Two years ago I published everything I wrote on Nano on a separate website. I don't know if I will do the same this year but this is what I have written today on the first day...already a thousand words short of my daily quota. Responses welcome.
Melissa ran her gloved fingers across the serrated edge of his carving knife and gazed out of the kitchen window. Her eyes focused on the shiny privet hedge separating the terraced gardens. Rain glistened on the small dark leaves. There had been a brief but heavy shower and the hedge sparkled as if someone had turned up the colour function of the outside world and saturated the leaves with thick browns and greens. A tiny bird hopped between the hedge’s tight branches. Melissa wanted to strangle it. It momentarily disappeared from view then rose above the gardens and dipped behind the rooftops. Melissa drum-rolled the blade on the pristine worktop before letting it drop idly out of her hand and skitter across the melamine. Her wristwatch corresponded with the kitchen clock exactly. Melissa knew Lionel could be expected back from the school run within ten minutes accompanied by another victim of his do-goodery. She lifted the carving knife and stabbed downwards at the kidneys lying on the chopping board. The handle fell straight over and landed in the bloody mess she had carefully transported from the butcher. There was already a spattering of blood on the fingers of her gloves. They would further stain if she lifted the knife for a second attempt but what kind of a threat would her break in be if she only left a bag of food on the surface? Pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes she extricated the handle from the slippery mounds and slammed the blade down so that the point stuck into the wood beneath and stood upright through the kidneys. Then she peeled off the bloodied gloves and hurriedly stuffed them into her pockets and headed for the back door. Stepping into the garden she pulled on an identical pair of gloves and eased the door quietly shut. Her hands were especially raw today and exacerbated by the autumn chill in the air. She winced in anticipation of the washing she would have to give them when she got back home and pulled back her fifth pair of latex gloves of the day. Right now she had to concentrate on getting away from Marcham Grove unnoticed. She decided the best way to be unseen was to walk across the square as if she had every right to be there. Melissa’s boots picked up pace as Lionel’s house shrunk behind her. There were two buses before she could get safely behind a closed door and draw the bolt between her and the outside world. Only when she was on the second bus did she allow herself to assess her afternoon. The kidneys had gone well, she reflected. Lionel would have encountered the guts in his kitchen by now and she longed to know how he had reacted. She rolled the possibilities through her mind like a film reel, imagining multiple permutations of his bewilderment, disgust and fear. From what she knew of him, she favoured the possibility that he would sweep the horror of entrails into the bin and keep his revulsion a private matter. Perhaps he would think about it during the evening and get a chill down his spine realising that someone had been in his house. It would be something she was forcing them to share. The thought warmed her. She anticipated it would be mid evening before Lionel noticed something pungent coming from the kitchen. However, it could be days before he located the prawns that she had rolled up inside the kitchen blinds. The bus lurched noisily to a halt rousing Melissa from her thoughts. She pulled her scarf over her ears and mouth before descending from the bus and searching for her house keys.
119 Empire Road was part of a foreboding block of flats that would have been elegant in the middle of the last century but the grime had been left to accumulate on every surface not fought over by a grim community of pigeons. Melissa lived in a suite that cleared the height of the trees and gave her a panorama of the park from the dining room table. She invariably sat at the table late every afternoon with a tisane and box of crackers, staring out of the window. As dusk drew in she studied the various shades of autumn turn from copper and gold to russet and maroon. She toyed with the idea of ringing Lionel but left her thoughts of confrontation and exposure to the realms of fantasy.
Melissa ran her gloved fingers across the serrated edge of his carving knife and gazed out of the kitchen window. Her eyes focused on the shiny privet hedge separating the terraced gardens. Rain glistened on the small dark leaves. There had been a brief but heavy shower and the hedge sparkled as if someone had turned up the colour function of the outside world and saturated the leaves with thick browns and greens. A tiny bird hopped between the hedge’s tight branches. Melissa wanted to strangle it. It momentarily disappeared from view then rose above the gardens and dipped behind the rooftops. Melissa drum-rolled the blade on the pristine worktop before letting it drop idly out of her hand and skitter across the melamine. Her wristwatch corresponded with the kitchen clock exactly. Melissa knew Lionel could be expected back from the school run within ten minutes accompanied by another victim of his do-goodery. She lifted the carving knife and stabbed downwards at the kidneys lying on the chopping board. The handle fell straight over and landed in the bloody mess she had carefully transported from the butcher. There was already a spattering of blood on the fingers of her gloves. They would further stain if she lifted the knife for a second attempt but what kind of a threat would her break in be if she only left a bag of food on the surface? Pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes she extricated the handle from the slippery mounds and slammed the blade down so that the point stuck into the wood beneath and stood upright through the kidneys. Then she peeled off the bloodied gloves and hurriedly stuffed them into her pockets and headed for the back door. Stepping into the garden she pulled on an identical pair of gloves and eased the door quietly shut. Her hands were especially raw today and exacerbated by the autumn chill in the air. She winced in anticipation of the washing she would have to give them when she got back home and pulled back her fifth pair of latex gloves of the day. Right now she had to concentrate on getting away from Marcham Grove unnoticed. She decided the best way to be unseen was to walk across the square as if she had every right to be there. Melissa’s boots picked up pace as Lionel’s house shrunk behind her. There were two buses before she could get safely behind a closed door and draw the bolt between her and the outside world. Only when she was on the second bus did she allow herself to assess her afternoon. The kidneys had gone well, she reflected. Lionel would have encountered the guts in his kitchen by now and she longed to know how he had reacted. She rolled the possibilities through her mind like a film reel, imagining multiple permutations of his bewilderment, disgust and fear. From what she knew of him, she favoured the possibility that he would sweep the horror of entrails into the bin and keep his revulsion a private matter. Perhaps he would think about it during the evening and get a chill down his spine realising that someone had been in his house. It would be something she was forcing them to share. The thought warmed her. She anticipated it would be mid evening before Lionel noticed something pungent coming from the kitchen. However, it could be days before he located the prawns that she had rolled up inside the kitchen blinds. The bus lurched noisily to a halt rousing Melissa from her thoughts. She pulled her scarf over her ears and mouth before descending from the bus and searching for her house keys.
119 Empire Road was part of a foreboding block of flats that would have been elegant in the middle of the last century but the grime had been left to accumulate on every surface not fought over by a grim community of pigeons. Melissa lived in a suite that cleared the height of the trees and gave her a panorama of the park from the dining room table. She invariably sat at the table late every afternoon with a tisane and box of crackers, staring out of the window. As dusk drew in she studied the various shades of autumn turn from copper and gold to russet and maroon. She toyed with the idea of ringing Lionel but left her thoughts of confrontation and exposure to the realms of fantasy.
31 October 2006
map my inertia
www.mapmyrun.com tells me that my snail paced jog this afternoon burned off 133 calories and I ran 1.55 miles. (disgruntled look) Jemma managed 5 miles on her last run, I really need to 'step up'.
big november
MARATHON
Last week I didn't run at all due to an injury. I replaced running time with eating. Today is my day off and I have a head cold which I probably shouldn't run on. However, I have been training reasonably well for the last month and really need to crack on in November. http://www.justgiving.com/marathonjoy I will continue plugging this site. Please make a donation. Honestly, giving just a couple of quid a month til I run will make me ecstatically happy.
NANO
What better to do when you're feeling run down, exhausted, training for one of the most gruelling physical runs on earth and approaching a retailers most frantic time of year than to take on another impossible challenge. Two years ago I took part in and completed NANO. http://www.nanowrimo.org/ Essentially you write 50,000 words in 30 for no prize, result or logical reason. It averages out at 1700 words a day. 2004 was a matter of competition and pride as I was pitted against Mole. This year I've agreed to start it and see how I get on. My personal life continues to be adding to life's rich tapestry so I'm promising nuffink.
30 October 2006
huzzah
3am after the last guest had left....
I had a great evening so thank you to everyone who came. Thank you to one rather fab person who spent hours helping me get thing ready just to see me happy and with a house full of mates. Thank you also to mini-me for being a great host and fun company.
I had a great evening so thank you to everyone who came. Thank you to one rather fab person who spent hours helping me get thing ready just to see me happy and with a house full of mates. Thank you also to mini-me for being a great host and fun company.
29 October 2006
Partay!
A crazy bunch of guests started to turn up at my party and steadily drink themselves into oblivion while I tried to distract them with the lesser pleasures of smoked salmon and cream cheese on home made parmesan biscuits...
Borrower got teased all night about being a pocket sized northener...but look how diddy she is!
Guests queue up for the piece de resistance dish of the evening....Chocolate fountain!!
Josh kept everyone brilliantly entertained with 
his on the spot songs about the guests and mournful ballads on the subject of being turned down for a credit card!I had 17 people in the house which I loved. The party was celebrating nothing. I just wanted a houseful of nice people and that's exactly what I got.
The candle-lit chill out room seemed to be a success and the fennel tree with blue lights made an impression. I overheard some cracking conversations and laughed more than I have in a long time. (Anecdote: "UNACCEPTABLE" and the reason why Andrew hasn't spoken since 1982!!)
20 October 2006
shocking lie!
Yesterday I was introduced to someone with the words; 'she makes Stephen Fry look like Jade Goody'. Ok so it's a lie and it was just to try and get me a place on a pub quiz team but I just had to share that one! heh heh.
18 October 2006
wit with a silent T at the beginning
Told a rep - one of the few i don't want to murder with a rusty compass and soiled dental floss - about my blog with the fatal words; 'it's very witty'.
Now i scroll back to see that the last page consists of recipes and fitness training. granted, eunuchs are mentioned but i must up my game (no, no fitness analogies), start posting something a bit meatier (no, no cooking analogies) and try and improve my satirical margin, maybe run a spreadsheet on hits per comment and compose a cluster comparison report against other witty blogs. Yes, that should really give it a boost.
Lights, compass, action!
Now i scroll back to see that the last page consists of recipes and fitness training. granted, eunuchs are mentioned but i must up my game (no, no fitness analogies), start posting something a bit meatier (no, no cooking analogies) and try and improve my satirical margin, maybe run a spreadsheet on hits per comment and compose a cluster comparison report against other witty blogs. Yes, that should really give it a boost.
Lights, compass, action!
17 October 2006
25 plus 5. you do the maths.
yes THIRTY, well done.
tonight i upped my max 25 minutes to 30 minutes of running. out with the borrower and montefiore round the river. two crazy things happened to me on this run and both in the last five minutes.
firstly my feet felt like they had suddenly risen dramatically in temperature i lost all feeling in my toes apart from pins and needles. odd. next time i'll tie the laces more loosely and see if that makes a difference.
secondly, all the tiredness in my calves disappeared and i started running faster than i had the rest of the run. runner's high maybe. i don't know but i felt like i could have kept running much further. only i couldn't feel my feet. seemed like a good moment to stop, throw off my trainers and march round on gravel trying to get sensation back!
anyway, i'm feeling suitably smug and self satisfied now. tomorrow morning when i have a changeover to execute and i can't stand up without crying, i might feel less bouyant.
tonight i upped my max 25 minutes to 30 minutes of running. out with the borrower and montefiore round the river. two crazy things happened to me on this run and both in the last five minutes.
firstly my feet felt like they had suddenly risen dramatically in temperature i lost all feeling in my toes apart from pins and needles. odd. next time i'll tie the laces more loosely and see if that makes a difference.
secondly, all the tiredness in my calves disappeared and i started running faster than i had the rest of the run. runner's high maybe. i don't know but i felt like i could have kept running much further. only i couldn't feel my feet. seemed like a good moment to stop, throw off my trainers and march round on gravel trying to get sensation back!
anyway, i'm feeling suitably smug and self satisfied now. tomorrow morning when i have a changeover to execute and i can't stand up without crying, i might feel less bouyant.
16 October 2006
Spent a few minutes flicking through 'How to run a marathon' and concluded I lack a great deal of discipline. Vowed to go to bed very early and get up and have a run before work in the morning. Went to the pub. Decided discipline could wait for a coupla days. HOWEVER, did agree with "crazy drunken tree hugger, ali why did you let go, i'm on the ground now??" that we would run together in the evenings starting tomorrow. the actual tomorrow, not a symbolic tomorrow.
15 October 2006
customer service
1st exchange:
customer: I was wondering if you had any small guide books on eunuchs.
me: eunuchs?
customer: yes. eunuchs.
me: ummm, I think it's not very likely....(trails off)
customer: it's just that I see you have books here on 'Linux' but I was really after something on Unix.
me: Ah, Unix let me have a look for you.....
2nd exchange:
customer:hello, do you have an english book?
me: what kind of english book?
customer: I don't know, I can't remember the title.
me: Something like an english literature book?
customer: No (with voice of disdain)
me: umm, teaching english as a foreign language
customer: no
me: What kind of English book? I need to know which department you're interested in.
customer: I can't remember the title but if you tell me where it would be I can go and look.
me: I know, how about you get out of my shop, go home, work out what the hell you want then come back and ask a sensible question. (thought only!)
AND THE BEST STORY OF ALL...
A bookseller has written 'FICTION' on a piece of paper for the stock take guys but the writing is joined up so the F and I are slightly merged together. The stock take guy who obviously hasn't spent a great deal of time drinking from the fountain of knowledge approaches a different, and coincidentally gay, member of staff, holds out the piece of paper to him and says "I'm looking for ACTION."
customer: I was wondering if you had any small guide books on eunuchs.
me: eunuchs?
customer: yes. eunuchs.
me: ummm, I think it's not very likely....(trails off)
customer: it's just that I see you have books here on 'Linux' but I was really after something on Unix.
me: Ah, Unix let me have a look for you.....
2nd exchange:
customer:hello, do you have an english book?
me: what kind of english book?
customer: I don't know, I can't remember the title.
me: Something like an english literature book?
customer: No (with voice of disdain)
me: umm, teaching english as a foreign language
customer: no
me: What kind of English book? I need to know which department you're interested in.
customer: I can't remember the title but if you tell me where it would be I can go and look.
me: I know, how about you get out of my shop, go home, work out what the hell you want then come back and ask a sensible question. (thought only!)
AND THE BEST STORY OF ALL...
A bookseller has written 'FICTION' on a piece of paper for the stock take guys but the writing is joined up so the F and I are slightly merged together. The stock take guy who obviously hasn't spent a great deal of time drinking from the fountain of knowledge approaches a different, and coincidentally gay, member of staff, holds out the piece of paper to him and says "I'm looking for ACTION."
11 October 2006
two years
'...for me the kumquat taken whole
best fruit, and metaphor, to fit the soul...'
I have just noticed that the anniversary of my blog has passed me by twice now. Kumquat's blog has been entertaining and educating the world at large for over two years and I think a celebration is called for.
Where else to look but to Tony Harrison?
'...a fruit an older poet might substitute
for the grape John Keats thought fit to be Joy's fruit...'
Let me tell you about the men in my life. HBH introduced me to Alexander Pope, JA introduced me to Camus and GD introduced me to Iris Murdoch and Tony Harrison.
'The new day dawns. O days! My spirit greets
the kumquat with the spirit of John Keats.
O kumquat, comfort for not dying young,
both sweet and bitter, bless the poet's tongue!'
Tony for poet laureate!
Here's to another two years. By that time I will have a 16 year old and be more than half way to my three score years and ten.
'Then it's the kumquat fruit expresses best
how days have darkness round them like a rind,
life has a skin of death that keeps its zest.'
Roux's pumpkin
Neither a philosophical tenet such as Pascal's wager nor a scientific brainteaser such as Schrodinger's cat. This is in fact, none other than a rather yumptious soup I made yesterday that I'm enjoying second helpings of this evening. I served it out of the hollowed out pumpkin with the lid back on and a ladel sticking out. Aww, yeah, dead rustic I am. So rustic me camera's batteries ran out so i can't post a picture for you. Bloomin' nice. Shallots and nutmeg and creammmm.
9 October 2006
8 October 2006
pam's chicken
a thousand blessings upon the head of a friend and colleague's mother's friend i don't know called pam. and her chicken. don't be put off by the lurid ingredients, it tastes amazing.
* Fry off 4 x chicken breasts and put in an ovenproof dish
* Add a good helping of cooked broccoli
* Mix 1 x tin condensed mushroom soup, 4-5 dollops of mayo, 4 tbsps double cream and enough curry powder to colour and flavour.
* Top the chicken and broc. with the creamy mix
* Blend 2 slices of bread and cover the sauce
* Add some grated parmesan if you have any
* Cook for 40 minutes. (I put it on 6 but you might want to change the times depending on whether you decide to chop the chicken into big chunks, as I did, before putting it in the oven.)
I'm sure this would translate into a great veggie dish because the sauce on the broc. was really tasty.
* Fry off 4 x chicken breasts and put in an ovenproof dish
* Add a good helping of cooked broccoli
* Mix 1 x tin condensed mushroom soup, 4-5 dollops of mayo, 4 tbsps double cream and enough curry powder to colour and flavour.
* Top the chicken and broc. with the creamy mix
* Blend 2 slices of bread and cover the sauce
* Add some grated parmesan if you have any
* Cook for 40 minutes. (I put it on 6 but you might want to change the times depending on whether you decide to chop the chicken into big chunks, as I did, before putting it in the oven.)
I'm sure this would translate into a great veggie dish because the sauce on the broc. was really tasty.
6 October 2006
3 October 2006
disappointing
I thought 'STRANGERS' by Yamada was amazing so I picked up his (her?) second novel 'IN SEARCH OF A DISTANT VOICE'. I finished it today and found it to be a wholly unsatisfying read despite a well driven plot and an intriguing main character .
The TBR shelf groans.
too dark
I so know Jem is gunna check up on me tonight and no, I didn't run. By the time I got home after being in a long traffic jam, it was too dark to go out. I don't know how I'm going to run in the winter. Bring on the badminton / swimming / running buddy evenings!
Work continues to be a laugh a minute with customers ringing us up to tell us that women are inferior men and shout at us because the vans that take our deliveries are German and all the drivers are foreign.
And then of course there are the interviewees who come for Christmas jobs, get to the end of the interview and when asked if they have any questions, offer; 'Do I have to work over Christmas?'
Oh yes, we attract an altogether classier kind of job-seeker.
In other news:
Work continues to be a laugh a minute with customers ringing us up to tell us that women are inferior men and shout at us because the vans that take our deliveries are German and all the drivers are foreign.
And then of course there are the interviewees who come for Christmas jobs, get to the end of the interview and when asked if they have any questions, offer; 'Do I have to work over Christmas?'
Oh yes, we attract an altogether classier kind of job-seeker.
29 September 2006
you are going to get so tired of this
Trainers managed to take me all the way round the lake this morning. I only needed to stop once for about 5 seconds to shout "MONTY".
Am trying to choose a charity to run for. I want to run for Oxfam but they have a largish initial contribution to get me started that I don't have but they're still my favourite. I have sent an email to Christian Aid to find out the deal there. The other charity I'd be interested in is Leukaemia Research. They have no minimum amount to raise but somehow, despite how close this is to my heart, I still feel that clean water for everyone is more important than anything.
Am trying to choose a charity to run for. I want to run for Oxfam but they have a largish initial contribution to get me started that I don't have but they're still my favourite. I have sent an email to Christian Aid to find out the deal there. The other charity I'd be interested in is Leukaemia Research. They have no minimum amount to raise but somehow, despite how close this is to my heart, I still feel that clean water for everyone is more important than anything.
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