Saturday, 22 September 2007
More Cotswold pictures
The first picture was taken in the back streets of Bibury.
The photo at the top right was taken just south of Stow on the Wold.
The photo on the right was taken at the Rissingtons near Bourton on Water.
Friday, 21 September 2007
A few more Cotswold photos
Wednesday, 19 September 2007
BritBlog refusal
At first, I thought this can't be right; I'm certainly British and my Blog has some 21 entries which do not contain anything 'iffy', so why am I being refused entry to the Britblog directory? Then I searched for admin@britblog.com and discovered many more British bloggers have been refused - with no genuine reason. It seems to me that Britblog have reached saturation or overload and cannot cope technically with the increasing demand of Bloggers - if I'm wrong, then will someone, anyone at Britblog, take the time and trouble to contact me via the several emails I have sent and which have not been replied to. There are others out there who would also appreciate some genuine contact instead of a bland 'one-for-all' email that says nothing except we have been refused. What is going on Britblog?
Tuesday, 18 September 2007
Coming out of Hiding
There were several jobs in last weeks' Oxford Times that I could possibly do... however, I applied for one having analysed carefully how each would impact on my life. Where were my certificates? Who would I ask to be Referees now that I live in a completely new area and have not worked for two and a half years? A few emails later I have found a few willing people. At the bottom of my old Naval WRNS trunk in the garage I found old folders from my last contracts and within were my certificates, neatly placed within transparent pockets, perfectly preserved as if awaiting a new lease of life.
Before he died, he insisted I keep all my folders just in case anything happened and I needed to go back to work... he was right, as always. My dilema is: a) Do I throw myself into full-time, all-consuming, exhausting teaching of the 16+ range of students? Or, b) Do I take a part-time teaching post - anywhere? Or, c) Have a part-time non-teaching post that is low-stress, but low income too? I know I need to do something! I need to get out into the world and make friends and contribute somehow, if only to keep my sanity. Ideally, I've always wanted my own business... something creative and arty...
My investments, such as they are have plummeted due to the financial crisis in America, so I cannot depend on them any more to supplement my income. Time for a radical change. It's scary after being incarcerated for so long in my safe house with my cat for company, not having to engage too much with the outside world while grieving, and getting used to being alone without him.
Even more scary is the thought of being asked to attend an interview!
Before he died, he insisted I keep all my folders just in case anything happened and I needed to go back to work... he was right, as always. My dilema is: a) Do I throw myself into full-time, all-consuming, exhausting teaching of the 16+ range of students? Or, b) Do I take a part-time teaching post - anywhere? Or, c) Have a part-time non-teaching post that is low-stress, but low income too? I know I need to do something! I need to get out into the world and make friends and contribute somehow, if only to keep my sanity. Ideally, I've always wanted my own business... something creative and arty...
My investments, such as they are have plummeted due to the financial crisis in America, so I cannot depend on them any more to supplement my income. Time for a radical change. It's scary after being incarcerated for so long in my safe house with my cat for company, not having to engage too much with the outside world while grieving, and getting used to being alone without him.
Even more scary is the thought of being asked to attend an interview!
Monday, 17 September 2007
Food Festival Frenzy
The sun shone down on my daughter and I at the Emsworth Food Festival at the weekend as we battled our way through the heaving crowds; the smell of all kinds of cooking invading our amateur nostrils. The small sailing community on the south coast on the borders of Hampshire and West Sussex attracted people from miles around, along with their children in and out of pushchairs; dogs of all shapes and sizes; which were clearly disorientated and confused among the tightly packed legs. No where to park; the three main car parks were being used for the many stalls and shows. We all jostled, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, coming to an agonising halt upon two acquaintances meeting and wanting to chat. Pubs overflowed and shops sold their wares at greatly reduced prices while people like us (in the know), escaped to the foreshore and fresh air and freedom.
Later, in the sanctuary of my daughter's house, we watched the crowds dispel and make their weary way as we drank a cup of tea, aching from head to foot from dodging, weaving, stopping, starting, bumping and evading. The result? One spoon dish, a bar of organic dark chocolate and a bottle of ginger wine. (Oh, and sunburn and bruises). Would we do it again? Definitely!
Later, in the sanctuary of my daughter's house, we watched the crowds dispel and make their weary way as we drank a cup of tea, aching from head to foot from dodging, weaving, stopping, starting, bumping and evading. The result? One spoon dish, a bar of organic dark chocolate and a bottle of ginger wine. (Oh, and sunburn and bruises). Would we do it again? Definitely!
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