The Isle of Man
I have just got back from a lovely relaxed weekend in the Isle of Man, visiting a friend with whom I trained. Four of use went out, and I haven't chatted so much, for so long, about such diverse topics for goodness knows how long. Babies (Leo is pregnant again) and weddings (it's my hen thing this weekend coming up) were mercifully touched on only lightly before the conversation swung around to Billie Piper, Mandarin Chinese, penalty clauses, escrow accounts (Elle's about to complete a massive transaction), careers and emigration (Julie's off in about a month).
The weather was wonderful the entire weekend. On Saturday when Leo had arrived we went on the steam railway. I kept expecting Julian, Dick, George, Anne and Timmy to scamper up to our carriage and tell tales of smugglers hiding in caves and coves nearby. Failing that, to see Peter, Susan, Titty and Roger boarding the train with heavy hearts after a summer at Coniston Water. I know that geographically it was all wrong, these people are all fictional, and even if they weren't they'd all be dead, but the railway was gloriously old fashioned. There was no way to move carriages once you were on board, the windows were held open with leather sashes. Fantastic. When taking corners with the wind in the right direction the steam billowed around the windows and there was a faint smell of something I couldn't place but seemed completely in keeping with the whole mid-wars period (well, from my over-romanticised view of things, it did). I took some photographs of the little streams we crossed, some of the stone bridges, and a few actually of the train. I've convinced myself I can set up a flickr account so will do so without further ado (well, at some point tomorrow) and load up all my recent photographs.
I love anything that is reminiscent of between the wars - and from this point the steam railway was untoppable. Enid Blyton, Arthur Ransome, C.S. Lewis, P.G. Woodhouse, Agatha Christie - all these authors who paint a picture of life in these times evoke a thrill. I know they deal with the upper classes only and that indeed at least two of my list that I know of were anti-Semites, but somehow I thoroughly enjoy reading about this lost age that might only have existed for a very few people in the first place.
I got about eight hours' sleep both nights, and Julie and I went for a long walk on Saturday so I'm full of fresh air. We all talked about some matters that have been on our minds recently and, as is the case with these things, it's only when you start talking about these things that you realise how much they had been dominating your thoughts. So I feel fully cleansed - I didn't drink a lot (of alcohol), I ate well, and I even got some exercise in the glorious weather that we had over there. No better time to give up smoking! The Allen Carr book is going to do it for me - and I'll update this with how it all progresses.
All's right with the world. I've got a lot to do this week, but Ive also got a lot of time and when I get everything done, I'll have a sense of achievement. I'm hoping my recent breakthrough on the procrastination front will not have been a flash in the pan and that my to do list shortens rather than lengthening with time.
Now I'm off to bed - before 11pm!
The weather was wonderful the entire weekend. On Saturday when Leo had arrived we went on the steam railway. I kept expecting Julian, Dick, George, Anne and Timmy to scamper up to our carriage and tell tales of smugglers hiding in caves and coves nearby. Failing that, to see Peter, Susan, Titty and Roger boarding the train with heavy hearts after a summer at Coniston Water. I know that geographically it was all wrong, these people are all fictional, and even if they weren't they'd all be dead, but the railway was gloriously old fashioned. There was no way to move carriages once you were on board, the windows were held open with leather sashes. Fantastic. When taking corners with the wind in the right direction the steam billowed around the windows and there was a faint smell of something I couldn't place but seemed completely in keeping with the whole mid-wars period (well, from my over-romanticised view of things, it did). I took some photographs of the little streams we crossed, some of the stone bridges, and a few actually of the train. I've convinced myself I can set up a flickr account so will do so without further ado (well, at some point tomorrow) and load up all my recent photographs.
I love anything that is reminiscent of between the wars - and from this point the steam railway was untoppable. Enid Blyton, Arthur Ransome, C.S. Lewis, P.G. Woodhouse, Agatha Christie - all these authors who paint a picture of life in these times evoke a thrill. I know they deal with the upper classes only and that indeed at least two of my list that I know of were anti-Semites, but somehow I thoroughly enjoy reading about this lost age that might only have existed for a very few people in the first place.
I got about eight hours' sleep both nights, and Julie and I went for a long walk on Saturday so I'm full of fresh air. We all talked about some matters that have been on our minds recently and, as is the case with these things, it's only when you start talking about these things that you realise how much they had been dominating your thoughts. So I feel fully cleansed - I didn't drink a lot (of alcohol), I ate well, and I even got some exercise in the glorious weather that we had over there. No better time to give up smoking! The Allen Carr book is going to do it for me - and I'll update this with how it all progresses.
All's right with the world. I've got a lot to do this week, but Ive also got a lot of time and when I get everything done, I'll have a sense of achievement. I'm hoping my recent breakthrough on the procrastination front will not have been a flash in the pan and that my to do list shortens rather than lengthening with time.
Now I'm off to bed - before 11pm!
posted by Chaya at 9:04 pm
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