Crazy Brit Heaven

Camera Shy

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 08:49:00 +0000

Being 6ft 1, there are two questions I am asked quite frequently:

1. Do you play basketball?
2. Are you a model?

The former I have the answer on a Tshirt for. The shirt reads simply "No, I don't play basketball."

For those of you that know me IRL, you'll know that I dislike being in front of a camera intensely. However, the Photographer has gone a long way in ridding me of some of my camera-shyness. He makes photos fun and he even manages to make me look presentable!

As his photos become more varied and he experiments with different lighting and scenery, I am often asked to be his model. A couple of weeks ago I was his model under a bridge next to graffiti. At the weekend I was his model in a park, wrapped up in a scarf, hat, winter coat and gloves and throwing hundreds of huge red leaves in the air to shower down on me.

The first "modelling" experience I had was with a friend of mine at a photography studio called Urban Slink. We made each other laugh, we laughed at each other and we generally had a brilliant day. It was my first taste of "shoulder down, tilt your chin down, look up..." and it wasn't half as bad as I thought it would be.

Then I ended up falling for a Photographer and now, my answer to my second frequently asked question is on its way to being... yes.

Much love,
xx

Remembrance Sunday

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 15:17:00 +0000

Yesterday was a friend's wedding. It's one of the first weddings I've been to where the groom was given equal attention to the bride - not a bad thing! They both seemed to enjoy their day and as they are a very creative couple, there were various quirks to make their wedding unique.

After getting home late, this Remembrance Sunday was begun early in order to drive into London and walk to the Cenotaph for the official service. For those non-brits amongst you, the Remembrance Day service at the Cenotaph is one attended by the Queen, the Prime Minister and various ex-PMs (and in this case a potential future PM!) It was quite remarkable walking near to Whitehall and seeing countless soldiers in uniform - navy, marine, army and also many veterans - all proudly displaying their medals. We were there early enough to be quite literally right by the monument. Quite an atmosphere.

To have the whole of Whitehall fall silent for two minutes is also very powerful. An amazing tribute.

Definitely glad I have done a proper Remembrance Day, although the annoying guy with a professional camera (NOT the Photographer, I hasten to add!) who came late and therefore had no view, kept hitting me on the head with his lens, not apologising and then swearing at me. Ah well. Didn't spoil the morning at all!

The Photographer was there in a professional capacity this time, working for a News Agency, so sadly I can't use his shots here. Apologies. They're very good I can assure you.

Much love,
xx

Obama's Short Honeymoon

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 09:52:00 +0000

A thought from the Photographer...

It was a year ago today that Barack Obama was elected President of the United States. Greyer and thinner, the man who made the point in his campaign that he was not wise of the Washington ways - in an attempt to prove his trustworthiness to voters - has proved thus. It has perhaps been the shortest honeymoon of any US President.

Obama came to power on a wave of public sentiment for change. To his credit, he embodied it. To become the first black President was no mean feat. However as I contemplate a year on, I can't but think that it hasn't just not gone to plan, but that he, and the aspirations of many Americans, have run aground. The recession hit hard. America may be out of it now, officially announcing its first quarter of growth recently, but Obama's national health plan is no nearer, and persuading Americans to part with $1.055 trillion over the next ten years will, I fear, prove too much to ask. Unemployment rose again last month, and the $787 billion recovery program has yet to deliver. It is a testament to the size of the numbers that it's so difficult to get your head around. Obama hasn't persuaded Iran to stop building nuclear weapons, has gained little from the Russians after scrapping the European missile system, and will shortly be forced by necessity to send more troops to Afghanistan. As a Conservative I should be rejoicing, and yet, I'm not.

Barack Obama gave the American people hope. He drew many out to vote for the first time, and dared to suggest that politics could provide something better than internal squabbles, over promising and betrayed trust. As a cynical Brit I should shoot down such notions, but I can't help thinking that hope is a good thing. Obama used to talk of the Audacity of Hope. I for one, hope that he, and the nation he governs, still have some a year from now. In his victory speech a year ago, Obama said: "The road ahead will be long, our climb will be steep. We may not get there in one year, or even in one term — but America, I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there." I hope they do.

Celebrating III

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 17:43:00 +0000

We have doubled the time since our last major celebration, as last weekend, the Photographer and I reached one year. We've been together the same amount of time as we knew each other before. We've laughed together, cried together, travelled together, taken risks together, challenged each other, comforted each other and loved each other. It's been one incredible year and things have changed so much for the better. We've both learned so much about ourselves and each other and I can gratefully say that I am happier now than I have ever been.

As I was playing in a concert last weekend, we celebrated in small style on the day and this weekend we escaped together for two luxurious days away. We were close enough to home that we didn't have to drive for too long on Friday night, but far enough away to be able to leave everything else behind. We ate out on both Friday and Saturday night and made the most of no cooking or washing up! Blissfully, our hotel had no mobile phone signal and was surrounded by country walks.

Yesterday we visited an Arboretum, which was at its most glorious on a stunning autumn day. The earth under our feet was covered in a multi-coloured carpet of leaves and the sun reflected on the lake and shone through the trees, highlighting their reds, golds and greens.

Here's to the first of many, many years.

Much love,
xx

Ability to forget

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 09:38:00 +0000

If the programme I heard on BBC Radio 4 last Sunday morning is to be believed - and who would dare question Radio 4(!) - then the ability to forget is a quality, which we should appreciate while we still have it. A camera, which takes a photo every 20 seconds, is increasingly being worn. It is intended to help remind the wearer of their exact movements, including where they parked their car and what time they were at various places. A man, falsely accused of a crime, wears such a camera in order to prevent the same scenario re-occuring - the indestructible alibi.

But I'm not convinced that such a camera, constantly worn, would prove productive. I'm sure that I am not the only person who values the ability to forget embarrassing moments or errors in judgement. I know that, often, my goldfish memory serves zero purpose as I end up forgetting important things, but nevertheless the shield of forgetfulness is worth more than we give it credit for. A permanent record of our every move in worrying detail would rob us of that safeguard.

From another perspective, the infamous saying "forgive and forget" places equal value on both subjects. If we cannot forget those wrongdoings against us, then grudges are held and bitterness evolves. Likewise if others cannot forget our mistakes or bad judgements, then we would live in a society of little joy and constant tension and disgrace.

I realise that Big Brother is sadly inevitable - if not already in existence - but while I still can, I'm going to try to make sure I don't take for granted my ability to forget.

Much love,
xx

Surprise

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 08:58:00 +0000

Mondays are manic. I shift my work day half an hour earlier in order to be able to make my rehearsal in London on time. If I get 30 seconds to change at home, I'm lucky. I go straight from work to the station and from the other end I walk as fast as I can (which, admittedly, is quite fast) to the BBC studios. If I get there just two minutes late, that's impressive.

So clearly I don't have time to pick up food anywhere, and the likelihood of me having prepared something in advance is quite slim. Such was the case last Monday, when I turned up to the station, starving.

Imagine my surprise when I got out of my car to find the Photographer walking towards my car, grin on his face and bag in his hand. "I figured you wouldn't have had dinner" he said, handing over the bag. "So I brought you some."

What an angel. He made my evening.

Much love,
xx

Early morning

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 07:47:00 +0000

There are certainly some benefits to coming into work early. For starters you get the occasional joyous morning, like today, where you barely see a car on the road and get to work happily and comfortably early.

What is even more delightful is that at this time of year I drive in with the sunrise. This morning, in all directions, the bright sunshine was bathing everything in its path. Everywhere I looked, I saw fields covered in a blanket of misty fog and catching the light. Each tree tunnel I drove through was swathed in a soft glow - the reds and oranges becoming ever warmer and the greens simply luminous. Each tree and every dewy fence became a frosty silhouette with the rising sun as a glorious backdrop.

If early starts are always this wonderous, I'm going to be enjoying my mornings. What a perfect start to the day.

Much love,
xx

Blog Action Day 09

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 14:30:00 +0000

Today more than 7,000 bloggers are joining together to discuss climate change as part of Blog Action Day '09. I know that there are many others out there far more qualified to write on this subject than I am but for me it's not about information, it's about a shared goal.

One of the hardest things about this topic for my generation to grasp is how it impacts us directly. Many of us see it as a problem that will effect our children and grandchildren but right now, we aren't really noticing much except - particularly in the UK - a slight shift in the seasons, increasingly unpredictable weather and the ever more predictable rain. These are things we can cope with. And if we can't, we go abroad.

And yet we are the ones who can make the difference for those future generations. For me it starts by gaining knowledge, and understanding more about what we can do to help. If we don't know that eco-friendly products exist, we won't buy them or even keep a conscious lookout for them. If we don't know what our carbon footprint is, we can't make an informed decision on how to improve it.

What is great about being involved, is that helping can be unique to everyone, it is accessible to everyone and it can be simple for everyone. Each person will have a slightly different angle on the subject and that results in a different approach to helping out - recycling, using energy saving lightbulbs, buying environmentally friendly products or getting involved on a deeper level.

So for me it comes down to two things.
1. Find out more - full-stop.
2. Discover how your individual passions can help climate change.

You may just be one person, but if each "one" person contributes, then we have a country passionate about the environment, and with it, a climate change epidemic. I cannot believe that I am about to quote Gordon Brown's blog, but his contribution to Blog Action Day '09 ends as follows:

"I want to leave a safe and secure world for my children. And I want to be able to look them in the eye because our generation stood up for their future."

For once, I agree with him.

Much love,
xx

P.S. For last year's Blog Action Day topic click here.

Housemate DIY III

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 12:03:00 +0000

When the British skies offer the promise of a couple of hours sunshine at this time of year, we Brits feel the need to make the most of it.

This morning Mr Fir decided to do this by putting up the washing rotary he bought quite a while ago, but had as yet been left unused in its packaging. About to leave for brunch a while later, I wondered as to Mr Fir's whereabouts. I hadn't seen him in the house for a while so I ventured out into the garden. There stood Mr Fir, proudly next to his new rotary. On the rotary hung his washing but, noticeably, there was a prominent lean towards one side and as we stood there and watched, the frame slowly, almost imperceptibly, began it's descent towards the grass.

Mr Fir sprinted towards it in an attempt to prop it up.

"It was totally upright when I put it in the grass," he explained. "But then I put some apparently very heavy jeans on one side and it started to fall over."

"Maybe I'll just stand here and hold it up," he suggested and stood still, clutching the metal pole.

Laughing, I left him to stand there in the sun next to his laundry, and went off to brunch.

He insists that he's good around the house. I insist that he brings much entertainment

Much love,
xx

P.S. For more of Mr Fir's housemate DIY attempts see Housemate DIY and Housemate DIY II

World of Work

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 14:11:00 +0000

So after a month and a half of being officially unemployed... I got a job! And it is a perfect job for what I wanted, it's even better than what I thought I would get and the location is stunning. I had my interview first thing yesterday morning and as I drove back from a second interview for a different job that afternoon (which also went well, but I had decided I didn't want nearly as much as the first) they called me. I wasn't expecting the call as they had told me they were interviewing all day but sure enough, 2.04pm and my mobile rang.

I have, quite literally, no idea at all how I managed to get home safe. As soon as I hung up I was screaming with glee in my car and immediately began to phone the Photographer, my parents and sister. I don't remember the rest of the journey home, nor, if I'm honest, do I remember much of the rest of the day. Having taken about 20 minutes to bounce a lot, I spent at least a couple of hours sat quietly in shock, convinced that I had dreamed the whole thing. I even looked through the recent received calls in my mobile to check their number was there!

So, for my first day of freedom from job hunting, the Photographer took me out - although it should have been the other way around with the blessing he has been over these last couple of months. We spent the afternoon wandering around Windsor, right by the castle, exploring the pebbled back streets and dipping in and out of the exquisite and seriously expensive little shops and boutiques. I bought nothing except a couple of birthday presents for friends in Zara, but I didn't need to spend money. I knew that I could go home and continue to relax and enjoy the next week and a half until the job starts.

One thing I have noticed is my attitude towards money. I thought to myself yesterday, I can treat myself, I should go out shopping. By instinct I found myself in charity shops, then when I realised I could go into normal stores I did, but didn't see anything I liked enough to buy. Finally, I simply walked into Tesco... and bought a reduced price sandwich.

Some things never change!

Much love,
xx

One day

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 12:34:00 +0000

"Youth is wasted on the young..."

A famous Robbie Williams lyric - one of the few that I often remember. When you are a child, you don't know responsibility to appreciate the lack of it, you don't know independence to cherish dependence, you don't know freedom to value boundaries and you don't know closed doors to treasure endless possibility.

At 23 I am still considered young (I hope!) and yet I am already beginning to understand this lyric more and more. I strive to value each stage of my life in order that it is not wasted in time but preserved as memory and experience. I blog about it often, if nothing more than to keep reminding myself.

I look forward to the future and it's possibilities. I look ahead with hope and yet I often say, and have said to me, "One day...". But eventually, 'one day' will be today and I want to know that I didn't miss yesterday in the process.

Much love,
xx

Lotions and potions

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 08:00:00 +0000

When I'm at home, I allow the rows of bottles on my dresser to exist unnoticed. Endless containers of cleanser, toner, moisturiser, contact lens ~~juice~~ solution, shampoo, conditioner and perfume, plus a wide assortment of shower gels, face masks, vitamins(?!) and hair products seem to move with me, often unused, from house to house. They have reappeared, no more used and slightly more dusty, on each new dresser for the past five years.

At least, I thought that this peculiar occurrence only began five years ago, but when I came back to my parent's house last night one of the first things I noticed was that I have a very similar assortment of lotions and potions here!

What is it in me that doesn't allow me to throw away products that I'm clearly never going to use? Do I think that one day I will run out of shampoo late at night when the shops are all closed, with my hair looking so atrocious that I'll just have to use that standby, emergency shampoo that has travelled with me unopened for half a decade? Or do I think that at some point I'll run out of the various moisturisers that I do use, that I'll have to resort to the dusty, cobwebbed jar or bottle in the corner? Or maybe I think that my favourite perfume, of which I have numerous bottles anyway, will one day mysteriously disappear and I will be forced to use the perfume I was given by a distant relative eons ago, which smells of rotten eggs mixed with old chemicals?

If any of these traumatic scenarios actually occur, I think I'd rather press on until the shops open in the morning, than subject myself to some of those products. I think it just might be worth doing a lotions and potions clear-out...

Does anybody else hoard anything equally... bizarre?

Much love,
xx

Anticipation

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 18:07:00 +0000

I'm the kind of girl who appreciates time to herself. I like the opportunity to relax and get my thoughts together, both of which often involve unwinding in a bath. Just the thought of a hot tub filled with bubbles, a face mask, some chocolate, a book, candles and a glass of wine is enough to drain tension from my neck and shoulders and ease the wrinkles (yes, at 23) from my forehead.

But by the time I have prepared the book, the chocolate, the mask, the wine, the water, the candles and the bubbles, I usually only end up staying in the bath for about 15 minutes. My choice of bath reading is crucial - a book will only end up wet and I would need to finish a chapter (so that I've neatly finished a section) before I can do anything else. On the other hand it doesn't matter if a magazine gets wet - it is disposable after all - and I can read the short articles (if they can be called that in a trashy magazine) and stop whenever I please. I haven't bought a magazine since I was a teenager, but I am contemplating buying one purely for bathtime purposes. Perhaps then, I might stay in for longer.

Then again. So often the joy is simply in the anticipation...

Much love,
xx

Constructive nothingness

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 08:27:00 +0000

When you haven't got specific plans for day after day (after day...) you tend to lose track of which day you're living out, which week out of the 52 you are participating in and generally of what you are supposed to be doing. Job hunting is a little like that. I have an interview lined up but until then I continue to job hunt and other than that... Well. I'm trying to enjoy my "lady of leisure" time. But I'm really not great at doing nothing.

So last night the Photographer came up with the bright suggestion of making my days more productive. After job hunting I could get some reading done, go for a walk, do the grocery shopping, do some more work towards the Fundraiser - it could be anything at all as long as it isn't nothing.

Here's to hoping today will be the start of my constructive nothingness. Any suggestions?

Much love,
xx

The purpose of blogging

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 21:21:00 +0000

I must admit that for the last couple of months I have found it difficult to see the journey. Difficult to understand where the paths are leading. Difficult not to get caught up in the whirlwinds around me. Difficult not to see events as individual and detached occurrences instead of enjoyable experiences. Difficult to make the most of a more intense and challenging season of my life.

But yesterday things, for a short while, played out in slow motion. I met up with someone I hadn't seen in two months and shared joyous news with them, reminisced with them, talked through struggles with them. I then bumped into Miss Hopeful and spent an unexpectedly joyful hour catching up with her over a hot drink and last night I cooked dinner for, and caught up with another close friend I haven't seen in two months and we enjoyed German food and a few glasses of wine.

In one comparatively short day, I was reminded not to walk through life in a trance in order to ignore the stuff that isn't so great. Instead I'm back to capturing the smaller moments, the moments which, when we stop and open our eyes, we realise are what makes life luxurious and worthwhile; the things which make you smile, just because they do.

Reading back on an old blog post of mine I realised that this lesson is one I began to learn a while ago. But after all, what is blogging for, if not to remind us of the lessons we ourselves have learned, when we then forget them further down the road?

Much love,
xx

Pedantic

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 13:41:00 +0000

Another aspect of my character, which I realised having watched a lot of Friends, is my likeness to Monica.

1. I ~~can't~~ don't like to leave a room untidy - I have been known to arrive at an event just on time (as opposed to my usual early) because I have been tidying a room.
2. I will stop what I'm doing if I see something that needs picking up.
3. I have every statement, important letter or document dating back roughly eight years (since I was about 15)
4. I will clean up as soon as a party is over, occasionally while the last remaining guests are still there.
5. Everything has it's place in my room.
6. The mess in my house - the little there is - is tidy and organised.

What I find astounding is that despite the above traits, I have only noticed them in my character since being with the Photographer. Woe betide him if he leaves my wardrobe drawers open or his book on my "just tidied and therefore empty" coffee table. Poor thing! Thankfully he insists that I'm not even remotely as crazy as Monica, and that he's just happy we'll have a tidy house when we get married.

Which Friends character are you most like?

Much love,
xx

Luxury chocolates or faff?

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 08:32:00 +0000

I was given a lot of chocolates for my birthday - unsurprisingly. The variety was amazing. From boxes of Celebrations and Heroes to praline selections and luxury truffles, I had half a desk covered in a cacophony of chocolate.

I have slowly made my way through them and the other night I came to the last box. It was small, pink and rectangular with a picture of a single chocolate heart in the centre. Beneath the picture was written:

Cocopia
LUXURY ARTISAN CHOCOLATES

Raspberry Caramel Bombe

The Photographer picked up the box and turned it over to read the description of the chocolates on the back.

Creamy, sticky raspberry flavoured caramel encased in a heart shaped milk chocolate shell, covered in milk chocolate and finished with freeze dried raspberry pieces.

His response?

"Sounds like a lot of faff to me."

Much love,
xx

Batteries

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 19:01:00 +0000

This weekend it is my favourite little girl's birthday and last Friday I bought her birthday present. It's a present I would have quite liked myself at her age as I could incorporate it into the games I made up and use it to "make" things. Even more excitingly it makes noises depending on what you do with it.

What I hadn't realised when I bought it, was that there is no "off" button. Some of the sounds it makes depend on which angle it is at, which resulted in me wandering around the town and into other shops, frantically trying to keep it level in my bag because at the slightest tilt it would start making noises.

I found it quite amusing for the 20 or so minutes I was carrying it around before I got home, but I have a feeling her mum might have removed the batteries within days in order to save her sanity...

Much love,
xx

Night adventures

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 10:32:00 +0000

I'll be getting up early for work all next week so yesterday was a day to lie-in and relax before the early mornings began. There was a part of me that knew somehow, that that wouldn't happen and I was right. I got a phone call soon after 8am. After that I was awake and not heading back to slumberland any time soon so I got up.

The call was from my parents asking me to drive home last night in order to take them to the airport this morning at 5.30am. My sister was originally going to take them but she's ill so needs the rest. It was no trouble for me to drive back. I had a friend's 21st last night but I left at 11pm hoping to be with my parents around 12.15am, factoring in dropping two people off and the 35 minute drive back.

Two junctions into the M25 Car Park. At midnight. The traffic stopped. Not, moving at 1mph stopped, rather, park and turn off your engine stopped. Half an hour into this, having moved less than half a junction, I passed a man in a 4x4 who had broken down in the slow lane, at a point where there was no hard shoulder. Just as I passed, a recovery vehicle showed up with it's yellow flashing lights and began to load the car onto its ramp.

Another half hour passed and, having moved only another half junction, I realised that the only reason for this particular car park, was that three lanes were merging into one for two junctions - even at midnight this infamous motorway managed to come to a standstill. At this point, still standing still, a recovery vehicle with yellow flashing lights drove passed in the lanes blocked off for roadworks. On its ramp was the 4x4 and I could easily imagine the owner, secretly quite glad that he had found a way to bypass the traffic.

At 1.15am, an hour and a half after I had left, I arrived at my parent's house. At 5.10am I was up again to drive back to Heathrow and then home. Thank goodness I had today to sleep but I must admit, I do enjoy night adventures.

Much love,
xx

Uncomfortable

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 07:18:00 +0000

As of yesterday, I became officially unemployed. I have had some interviews and those I had, I got through to the next stages. However, the second round interviews clashed so I chose the job outline I preferred - event marketing based in London Bridge - and attended that interview. Unfortunately the job, to put it mildly, was not as advertised.

- It had not been advertised as commission based.
- The hours had not been advertised as 7am-8.30pm Monday to Saturday.
- The "event" had not been advertised as a trestle table and tablecloth in a shopping mall.

It was the last failure to advertise which particularly annoyed me, as it is events I am trying to get into full time having done it sporadically for almost a decade. But the situation deteriorated.

On arrival at the second interview I was paired with another girl - an intelligent graduate about my age - and we were sent out to the "event" with one of the company's "best account managers". He was on the training programme we would have been on had we got the job.

Things didn't start well. The moment he stepped out of the main office he lit a cigarette. He didn't know where he was going. He was condescending to the other guy with us - a man two weeks into the training programme whom he was supposedly training. He couldn't answer a single one of my basic questions - "What makes you different to volunteers selling charities on the streets? How are the new recruits trained?" His responses were along the lines of "People don't realise what a great opportunity this programme is... You can see how a good looking man like me can sell things." The former was probably as a result of him taking them on their second interview and because it was unfathomable that he could get to stage three of the five stage programme. The latter was so far from the truth it was almost laughable.

We then got to the mall and he lit another cigarette (there were many cigarette breaks to follow but that really wasn't the worst of it) before we found the mall office who told us where we were setting up. The setup of the trestle table and tablecloth turned the distant warning bells into blaring alarms as I began to watch his "selling technique". He ate sweets whilst talking to people. He heckled girls in short skirts. He left his trainee frequently for cigarette breaks. He yelled to people across the plaza. He lied to the people he was bringing over to tell about the charity, and all of this was interspersed by sleazily flirting with me and the other girl.

Needless to say the other interviewee and I were set to leave immediately despite his "recommendation" that we make it to the final interview, but we both decided to stay if nothing else but to tell them why we were so unimpressed with their company. Her final interview lasted no more than a minute before it was my turn.

I began by telling the manager how impressed I had been with their offices, team and training programme at my first interview the previous week but how I had been entirely put off by what I had seen that morning. After two minutes of outlining what had happened he cut me off and told me that he thought the company founder should be hearing what I was saying. He left and returned with a broad American. Once again I explained what had happened and the face of the company founder became increasingly annoyed.

There was a pang of guilt at telling them about the trainer behind his back, but I wasn't exaggerating and his behaviour was my reason for not returning. The American turned to the manager and told him they needed to get this guy in that night and have serious words. When he turned back to me he told me that the ball was in my court. If I wanted the job I would be trained by the manager himself but after the morning's fiasco on top of the misleading job outline, I couldn't take the job.

I realise that may be being fussy particularly in a recession, but would you have wanted to have been associated to a company like that?!

Much love,
xx

Willing to talk

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Sat, 29 Aug 2009 18:31:00 +0000

I am one of those people who still watches Friends re-runs most days, but after a conversation today I realised that there is an aspect of their group dynamic that I had never acknowledged and which is surprisingly important - their willingness to talk.

Even when there is a small problem between them, they tell the person who they have an issue with. They may discuss it with some of the others first but very soon after something negative has happened, they talk - sometimes argue - face to face. On the whole the issue is resolved and life resumes, almost without disruption.

I have never been good at discussing issues I may have with friends in order that they get resolved quickly, but it was pointed out to me today that a willingness to talk through disagreements face to face is one of the most valuable qualities in a solid friendship. I am blessed with some friends who will tell me if I'm doing something out of order to others or to them. I have no doubt that these are lasting friendships because of that quality.

Had I noticed this vital characteristic of friendship sooner, some of my relationships may have turned out very differently. I'm glad I've finally come to my senses and realised that disagreements don't equate to dissolved friendships. I'm glad I have learned how to be willing to talk.

Much love,

Surprise

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 20:05:00 +0000

This morning was the first morning of Pyramid Rock - our Church Holiday Club. Around 150 kids aged 5 to 11 showed up, did crafts, sang songs, watched sketches, listened to stories and played games. I was leading the music and the band played brilliantly - including the Joseph musical section!

But this morning was easily overshadowed by this afternoon. The Photographer asked me a while back to keep tonight free as we were going to do something to celebrate my birthday, which is tomorrow. Knowing that I don't like surprises completely sprung on me, he made me wait until this afternoon before telling me that he was taking me out for dinner tonight, at one of my favourite restaurants where he took me for our first date.

I was excited enough at this, but it got better. When we got home, shattered from the morning, he worked whilst I took a nap. At 4pm he gently shook me awake and insisted that I got up. I stubbornly, as usual, refused, and rolled over. He persisted however, and, as my mind began to wake up, I heard a car door slam and my phone began singing Frank Sinatra's Come Fly With Me. As I answered the call from my sister, the doorbell rang and I appeared to hear my sister's voice in stereo... from the receiver pressed to my ear, and from outside!

I don't know how they managed it, but they somehow got my big sister here without me having any idea at all. They both took me out for dinner and I got to spend the evening before my birthday with my two favourite people on earth.

Just under three hours until I turn 23...

Much love,
xx

Missed

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 21:08:00 +0000

This morning I returned to my local haunt - a coffee shop 10 minutes walk from my house. As I entered, the lady behind the counter saw me. A smile lit her face and, as I approached, she exclaimed in her strong accent, "You've been away! You haven't been here for ages. Where have you been?" With an equally big smile I replied that I had been on holiday and a brief conversation ensued as she covered my hot chocolate in the extra cream and sprinkles, which she knew without asking that I wanted.

The rest of the day was long and difficult, but when I got to the end of it I thought back. It felt so good to know that somebody had noticed my absence - even if it was someone, who's name I don't even know.

"You know you belong when you're missed." Anon

Much love,
xx

Bed art

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 20:49:00 +0000

Having returned from camping and had a shower, the icing on the clean cake was newly washed bed linen. I had just made the bed perfect when the Photographer arrived. As I worked, he lay on the bed. Usually I wouldn't mind this at all, but I had just made the bed ready for me to crawl cozily into that night. I admit it - on rare occasions, I get ever so slightly pedantic about really quite small matters.

He caught my glimpse at the wrinkled duvet cover and instantly saw in my face what I was thinking.

"Am I ruining your freshly made bed?" He asked.

"Yes." I muttered, looking ever so slightly embarrassed that he had realised so quickly what I had been thinking. However, instead of getting up and ironing out the wrinkles, his face acquired a mischievous grin and he continued his questioning.

"But you like me?"

"Yes..." I replied.

"And you think I'm good looking...?"

"Yes," I responded, not entirely sure where the conversation was headed.

"Then really, I'm just a piece of bed art!" He concluded triumphantly, and rolled over to nap.

Honestly. What will I do with him.

Much love,
xx

Wasp trap

noreply@blogger.com (L.C.T.) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 19:57:00 +0000

I found the photo of the wasps in the Sprite bottle. You can't see all 15+ of them but you get the idea!
Much love,
xx