The other shoe...

(note: It has been suggested that the cliché "waiting for the other shoe to drop has negative connotation. I would like it to be noted that I do use that phrase negatively, I do not see it as foreboding...it is simply a term that I use when I am waiting for something to happen, when I am expectant.)

For a couple of weeks not I have had a feeling of anticipation, anxiety, restlessness and expectation. As though there were events in motion that hadn't yet been played out.

I'm trying to focus on when this sensation started. I know it was there when I came back from England. And I think it might even have been there while I was in England. I thought it might have been the trip to England that had thrown me off, but I'm thinking now that the feeling of unbalance that I felt in England, wasn't due to the trip, it was this path that had begun and had been weighing on me.

The events that I believe are starting to play out have involved me, some directly, some indirectly and not all of the events themselves were directly related. But there were a number of 'climaxes' last night (Friday, June 10).

I'm looking inside myself to see if there is any more of those feeligs, any more of the waiting sensation. I feel more relaxed than I have in a while. It's as though I had been waiting for a train. I wasn't upset about being late, I was simply impatient because the train was taking so long to arrive. Now I feel like I'm on the train, but it's taking it's sweet time as well. I do not feel excited or fearful of where the journey is supposed to end...but just impatient...expectant. I know there are lessons here that have been learned and some that are still processing.

I'm impressed with my awareness of the events unrelated to me. I can honestly say that I knew something was going to happen. The major storyline last night did not involve me until it came crashing down, and yet I'm quite sure that much of the anticipatory tension was due in part to this scenario.

The heat and humidity are still fierce in Toronto right now. It would have been much more poetic if the sky's had opened up with thunder and lightening and floods of rain came pouring down to break the external tension. However, it helps me to remember that there is a continuance to this. That the stories may seem to have played out last night but none of them are over. The direction and the mood might have changed but they're simply moving differently, they haven't actually stopped.

I have learned how to ask for things I want, and to be true to myself about what I actually want, and allow myself to have it and not feel bad about wanting it, asking for it or getting it.

I am learning patience. This is very hard for me and it will be a much longer process, if I ever completely learn.

I am also learning to trust myself, my instincts, my thoughts. I do trust them to some extent as I have been talking about the waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop sensation that I've been experiencing, to others, for a couple of weeks. I trusted the feeling and expressed it. I need to keep being aware of myself and listen closely to myself and through this I will learn more about how outside things are affecting me and why they are affecting me.

As time goes on I am becoming more and more of a fatalist, and yet (completely contradictory here) I believe at the same time we have the power to shape our own destinies.

Everything happens for a reason (fate) but we make the decisions and choices to have the events play out in a way that will best suit the way we need things to play out at that moment (personal power).

I talk a lot about being passive agressive and I believe that is a great way to describe the whole human race.

We have more control, more power, more intuition about ourselves and our destinies than most of us care to admit, even those who know this can't always see the whole picture. Our actions and reactions on every level shape our lives and take us on our personal journeys, manipulating the path around us, and sometimes the journeys of others, to get us or try to get us to where we are going next.

Wow...where the hell is my head this morning (Saturday @ 8:30am)? I do feel better.

Patience

Deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Don't move slowly, move thoughtfully. Take it easy, think it through. Make each step, each thought, each word count. Stop rushing, stop trying to finish. Enjoy the ride, the journey, the path. Pause and remember to enjoy. Help make each moment a moment to remember.

These are all things over which I have power and control. I can control my own destiny, but more importantly I can make marvellous everything I do. It doesn't have to be perfect it can just be. I need to let it be.

I don't need other people's attnetion, I just need my own. I need to pay attention.

Just be patient.

England 2005 - Chapter 10

7:45 am - Saturday, May 28, 2005
NOW THAT'S HOW YOU DO LONDON!!!

Well for starters I'm still having the strange stomach pain, not as intense, but it's still there and is throwing me right off. But at least I'm coping now.

So I got up, had some tea & toast, got prettied up and hit the road around 9:30am. The morning was already gorgeous, and I didn't bring any sunscreen, but I wasn't really worried, because, this is England, right?

I had no idea what to do with myself, so I set out on foot in Kensington Gardens, sounds fancy, it's just a big lovely park. I was still feeling a little wonky, but I brought a banana and sat down to eat it, feeling a little better. Then I walked around the Italian Gardens and looked at a map. Oooooooh a statue of Peter Pan, I definitely want to see that. I went all the way around the outside of the park. I got honked at a couple of times, because I'm so cute, and of course I waved back, it's only the polite thing to do, and hey...the Queen does it, right?

I found a little river and stopped for an orange pop-up popsicle, which I banked would be safe for my stomach, and a bottle of water. Just as I was turning around I noticed a little old lady sitting with the back of a truck open. I asked if she was selling the maps I could see in the boxes inside. The back of the truck was set up like a little office. She said no, all she had were last year's map, but I could have one if I liked. I said I really would. We chatted a bit. She asked if I was on my own as we had talked about this being a lovely vacation. And I found myself getting a little chocked up. I could feel myself holding back tears as I answered "Yes, and I don't really know what to do with myself, so a walk seemd like a good idea." She sent me on my way to the sites I wanted to see.

First a stop at the Diana Memorial Fountain. Very beautiful, calming, and clean. I paddled my feet in the water a bit. Then I went off to find Peter Pan. JM Barrie had apparently written much of the story in Kensington Park. The Peter Pan statue I saw looks like the one in the movie Hook.

Then I was a bit at a loss, but decided to go to the opposite end of the adjoining Hyde Park to check out Speakers Corner, which is an open forum area that is used regularly for people to speak their mind to the public. But, as I found out upon arriving, only on Saturdays. But there you could rent a deck chair for £2 for 2 hours. There were these great little white and green stipped deck chairs spread out all over the grass but being such a marvellous day there were only a few rented, the rest of the sun worshippers were simply spread out on the grass.

It was just before noon and I decided that I should have more water and another popsicle thing. When I got to the concession stand I saw they sold tomato basil soup. Something healthy!!! I got a bowl of it and then asked for ice cubes as it was quite a hot day. She laughed and asked if I wanted it cold. I said yes, it was too hot today to eat hot soup outside. She went into the fridge and poured me a whole new bowl of cold soup...YAY!

I made my way back to the grass and settled myself down in front of two attractive blokes. Before you get your hopes up...no...no...no such luck. I ate my lovely cold soup and drank my water.

Now what?

Might as well head up to the subway and pick a spot to go for the afternoon. On my way there a gentleman came up and was selling tickets for an open air double decker bus tour. That's it! That's what I'm going to do! So I bought a ticket £20, you can hope on and off for 24 hours. There are three different tours, a live commentary and access to a boat ride down the Thames. Marvellous! And so I got on.

I didn't realize I was going pink until it ws too late. Around 1:30. I didn't have any sunscreen with me (remember...England), didn't have any where to buy it close by, and pigured that at this point even with the sunscreen my skin would still hurt. Luckily I was carrying my pashmina which had been used lots all day (best travelling accessory EVER...it's the upgrade to the towel). So I wrapped my upper body with it and carried on. Around 3:30 I realized I should start heading back to the hotel and make some phone calls. I started by calling B and we arranged that she would come to me for 5:30.

I cabbed back and got ready. My sunburn was just that, a full fledged red sunburn covering my arms (except where my stupid clunky watch had been) shoulders, chest and upper back. Dummy! Yes, I was, but come on...it's England! And it's quite a bit North of us in Toronto and HEY...it's England...Not CUBA. Okay, lesson learned!

B met me here on time, and we went out, swung by her place so she could get changed after work. I swapped for some of her shoes. We went across the street to a little Italian style restaurant. London's Il Fornello. I ate a salad and half a pizza. The salad was Great! The pizza, just okay. But I at lots, the first real meal in two days and a glass of wine. I had been eating popsicles and drinking water throughout the day, so even though I was burnt to a crisp, I was well hydrated.

After dinner we head up to Picadilly Circus to Jewel, where we had been the night before. I ordered a champagne drink with passion fruit. It had floaty passion fruit seeds that were being bounced around by the fizzy, like little gross fish. I just couldn't finish it. Plus I was really mellow, in no mood for dancing. Ah ha! I've got an idea...Red Bull & Vodka...British Red Bull none the less. Please! Yup, that's what I needed, a real kick in the pants! We had two more at jewel , didn't like the odds at all and headed around the corner to Tiger Tiger. Dance Bar.

There we danced and drank the night away. Aside from being mauled on the dancefloor by the odd creepy guy, I really got nothing. Seriously, sorry everyone, no sordid tales to tell.

We took an unlicensed cab home....oooooooh (apparently not the -safest- of things...but come on, their cabs stop running at 2am...seriously!!!)

Off to bed immediately (it was pretty late though). I was up bright and early at 8am this morning. B is meeting me here at noon. I'll pack up this morning for my early departure tomorrow and get ready, maybe take a walk. It will have to be long sleeves today *sigh*...another sunny day, only a little cooler and windy...

Well...come on feet.

Floundering? Waiting? Lost?

(note: this was written last week)

In limbo. That's where I feel like I am right now. I don't feel like I'm sticking anywhere right now. It's like I'm on a treasure hunt but I don't have the list of things I'm looking for.

However that's not quite right. I have the list, I know what my motivation is to get the things on the list, and I think I want them, but I don't feel like doing what I have to, to get the items. All that drive & focus 6 months ago when I started this blog, it seems to have faded. My goals are still the same, but the drive, the energy I had, is fading.

I'm in typical me lazy mode. I've reverted to the C student, with so much 'potential'. Why am I happy to just sit and wait for things to just happen? Things that won't happen unless I apply myself and yet I'm happy to just sit back and do nothing.

I guess I'm waiting for myself. Waiting to get off my own little but and do something.

I recently read an idea "...believing is seeing..." and I think it's fairly accurate. No, not "...seeing is believing...", the other way around.

When you meet a cute person and you're talking and having a great time you think "...wow they really like me", and you get all sorts of ideas in your head. Many times you just -want- them to really like you...you 'believe' it strongly enough and sure enough you 'see' it.

I need to start believing things about myself and my choices. About what I'm doing and what I want to do. Maybe once I start to really believe, I will see these things, therefor making them happen. Because they are all the things I can have if I just put in the effort. But my lack of belief is holding me back, keeping me lazy and yet uneasy. Waiting for something that will never happen until I get up and start it happening.

England 2005 - Chapter 8

Thursday, May 26, 2005 - 10pm
SICK

365! That's right, in a year! That's how many days there are. And I'm on holiday for 9 of those days, start to finish, no more, no less. More than half of that was spent with my family, so I have a few days, on my own, in London...AND I GET SICK! And not my usual sick, but weird sick. Weird upper stomach pains, not ache, but sharp pain and it has completely thrown me off.

On top of everything else...and sorry for the gentlemen reading here...but I'm also early too, so wrenching cramps to boot, which initially overthrew the stomach PAIN. So then I cry and I take some pills and the cramps are better but the back aches, and the stomach PAIN. Yup, it's back again. What is wrong with my body!!! *sigh*

I'm hoping that this is the last of it. This is my 'holiday', my 'vacation', my 'time off'. I can be SICK -any- other day! I mean, I suffer through cramps EVERY month at the office, I put up with them, I struggle through and deal with it. I DO NOT want to suffer, struggle or deal now. Now is for enjoying. And all I want to do is got home to my mum!

I'm praying that tomorrow all is better. I know the cramps will be dealable, but if this PAIN is still here, I might actually seek medical attention. I know my body well enough to know that something ain't right.

I should be recounting tales of my British conquests. Heck, I should be out conquering right now. I sat in a club and drank two bottles of sparkling WATER purchased by two yummy gentleman and still feel like crap...and came home early because of how crappy I felt.

I'm going to call it a night, in the +30 degree room where 5 others will appear at some point, to raise the temperature to an even more unbearable level. Then I will hopefully be my bright eyed, bushy tailed self in the AM.

If not, I'm also considering seeing if I can get an early flight home and into Ottawa where I'll spend two days being a sucky baby before catching a train home.

Waaaaahhhhhhh!

Pain, pain, go away, come again another day, little Princess wants to play.

Feeling HOT HOT HOT!

Mmmmm, the hot and sticky streetcar after work. And a whiff of...what is that...? Rubbing alcohol? No...hand sanitizer. Yuck!

Well it's another hot day today. It's been like this all week, and who's complaining? Not me! I LOVE IT!

My skin has never been better. I was definitely made for humidity. Well, except for my hair, which goes flat. But I can't have it all, can I?

I would've walked home tonight, but I hae ultimate in just under an hour. Imagine, running around in this heat. I'm sitting still right now and I can feel the sweat in my hairline. God I love that feeling.

This is why I live in this country. Days like today. Hazy, blue sky, sweltering heat, hot, sweaty, yummy, sticky heat.

But we'll see if I can handle the air quality on the field tonight. That should be interesting.

If only the streetcar moved more constantly and stopped less. At least there'd be a little breeze.

I think maybe my sweating is making my thin white linen skirt completely see through. But hey...who's complaining?

So easy...

...to be bad.

I think I'm coming upon a new lesson (lots of them all the time). I don't think I've learnt it yet cause it's slow in coming. It's not like things are as crazy as they were last fall, but I'm still not as dedicated or as focused as I'd like to be.

It's the good girl/bad girl syndrom.

The good girl is the one that -wants- to get in shape, eat right, study and take courses to expand my horizons to make me more valuable to myself and the world, and knit...I actually want to knit, reading, I love reading but I do it so seldom.

The bad girl is the social girl. It's not that being social is a bad thing it's just that it is an avalanche. I just keep wanting more of it. And it keeps me from doing any of the good girl things.

I'm a binger, not for one thing, but for everything in general. I get something in my head and like a dog with a bone, it's all that I see, all that I can focus on, all that I want, and eventually I tire of it, and can go back to small regular doses. I then move onto the next thing, the next bone (no pun intended), the next obsession, the next binge.

I treat life like an all you can eat buffet. Only sometimes I've been such a glutton that I can barely stand up straight afterwards.

And the whole time the one thing, in all the cases, that I'm really binging on is drama, the attention, the world revolving around me.

I need to pace myself, walk not run, nibble not gorge, breahe not hyperventilate.

Okay, I see the lesson...how do I fix this? Just changing the behavious isn't going to necessarily make it stick. I need to look for the reasons, the triggers, the instigation of the behavious which has become like, well, breathing.

I can see the problems so easily, but my signt is not an x-ray or doesn't want to see the x-ray, the skeleton, the depth of the problem. Am I afraid of what I'll find? Yes, I'm pretty sure that I'm frightened about what I'll find.

England 2005 - Chapter 7

Wednesday, May 25, 2005 - 11:50pm
CONGRATULATIONS LIVERPOOL!!!

Well the day started out badly and ended beautifully.

I awoke to an uncomfortable feeling in my middle. I was wondering if the eclaire, then fish & chips with curry & mushy peas, and a full bottle of wine, 2 bags of crips...not to mention a few black currant candies, might have set my stomach off.

I hadn't slept much as I kept waking up throughout the night feeling quite anxious. My stomach had been bothering me and the toilet wasn't flushing properly...what if I needed to be sick. Mid-night sleep anxiety when one's stomach is unsettled...:(

After I got out of the shower I smelled food and remembered that they were cooking me a big British fry up for breaksfast...which I had specifically asked for the day before...that I had wanted. Urp...

I went downstairs and managed to eat almost everything on my plate. It would have been wonderful, but my stomach was liking me less and less.

S & I got ready to go into town. We left the little darlings. I got lots of cuddles and kisses and head out to Chester for some shopping.

After dropping off my overnight bag in Aunt N's car, and then Cousin S and I hit the town. It's some of the best shopping, siteseeing, walking, interesting stuff anywhere. We looked at things & tried on clothes. I bought two shirts, and flip-flops for the shower at the hostel (*cringe* I hate flip-flops). S had to leave to take the Lady to school. So we bid our adieux and I was on my own.

All I could think about was Pepto-Bismal & Ginger Ale. I couldn't find Ginger Ale anywhere and settled for 7up, which did what I had hoped...it got me burping and relieved some of the pressure. But didn't ease the belly ache at all. Then on to the chemist...Milk of Magnesia...Gaviscon...NO Pepto...*GASP* I practically live on Pepto. I had considered bringing a bottle with me, but figured that they'd have it here. *sigh* So...achy belly it would be.

Yes, it's now after 11pm and my belly is still not itself. But enough of my whinging.

I spent a couple of hours by myself in Chester. I did more shopping, bought an umbrella (it's awesome), saw a tv program being filmed, I flashed my Canadian pin around hoping someone would see it and want to use my lovely accent, but no such luck. :(

Then I stopped to watch the town crier. I have sat and watched this every time I've been in Chester. He was marvellous to watch and took the piss out of a group of Americans that were right up front. That was great to watch. Just because Tony Blair is in love with Dubya...doesn't mean the rest of the country is.

I wander some more and found Marks & Spencers. I picked up the necessary sweeties as well as the perfect Father's Day gift and a great gift for my boss F.

Aunt N called just as I was finishing up and came to meet me at M&S. W went to grab a quick bite to eat. We stopped at a little Italian restaurant and I challenged a bowl of mushroom & leek soup. I ate half...not too shabby.

We then took a drive out to West Kirby, my dad's home town. We drove past my grandparent's most recent house. There were some changes done to the drive and to the front garden.

We then drove through West Kirby. Oh the memories. The restaurant we'd been to on the corner...still call Surfers. The shops in town, all so familiar, especially the one that use to have all the inflatable beach toys hanging out front...but now it's an ice cream parlour. We drove past my dad's old home. So many memories, so many thoughts...the dentist office, the front room with the old piano, the smell of stock pot, the room at the back with the big window onto the back garden...the big long back garden, the camper at the side of the house, the stairs...so many stairs...the smell of Mutti's bedroom, the horrible pictures of old people on the walls that would follow you with your eyes...the wig stand in one of the bedrooms that was also frightening, like a giant faceless white head, the stairs to the attic...the attic, where the toys were kept...*sigh*. I wish we could go inside. But the memories are inside me.

Then we drove to the beach. We sat in the car for awhile, near the spot on the old boardwalk where we'd get Walls ice cream. I really wanted to get one but the urge to purge was still too great. The tide was out. I wish it was nice out and we could walk in the mud with bare feet and then bounce and sink down, like we did as kids...I WILL go back again. I'll park for the day and walk following the tide out to the island...ALL the way to the island :)

We then drove back to S & N's. I spent the rest of the afternoon getting my suitcase organized.

Then a healthy dinner of chicken breast, & potatoes. My tummy didn't revolt once.

N went off to her wine tasting and S & I went off to check out a local pub in Tilston. We took a lovely little drive through the Cheshire villages, but when we got to the Fox and the Hound we found the pub closed & empty. It was still To Let and had not been open for awhile. I had thought an old friend was supposed to be opening it...so we turned around and came home.

Once back at home I picked up a book and did some reading but soon moved inot the tv room where Liverpool was playing Milan in Istanbul for the European Cup finals in football (yes, soccer). I tuned in at 3-0 Milan, when all of a sudden, minutes apart at the top of the 2nd half...wham...bam...slam...! 3 goals for Liverpool!!! The game tied up. No more scoring would be had after that. They played out the rest of the 90 minutes of play and two 15 minute over time periods. Nothing...it's a kickoff. First best out of five.

Milan - Miss
Liverpool - GOAL!!!!
Milan - Miss
Liverpool - GOAL!!!
Milan - goal...
Liverpool - miss *gack*
I'm going to be sick
Milan - Miss
Liverpool GOAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

An it's over...Liverpool wins the cup!!! For the third time...and they get to keep the cup...(kewl)...And that Gerard...Yum, yum, yum...

G'night Liverpool!

Sweet dreams!

England 2005 - Chapter 6

Tuesday, May 24, 2005
THE LADY & THE LITTLE MAN

I woke a little later this morning, 9:30. I rushed to get ready as I knew my cousin would be arriving with her husband and two children shortly.

Just as I began curling my hair, there was a knock at the door & it was the Little Lady. At 4 years old she is the vision of just that, a little lady.

Just before I opened the door, I heard my aunt say..."There's someone here who can't wait to meet you. She's so excited that she's jumping from foot to foot asking where you are."

She's beautiful. She has these great big blue eyes that you can get lost in.

I said "hello", and she just stared at me. I could see her taking me all in. Appearing too shy to say anything right away. But not really shy, more intrigued and processing the information.

I smiled and told her I'd be down in a minute when I had finished getting ready, and properly meet everyone. A couple of minutes later, hair done and teeth brushed, I go downstairs to meet the rest of the family additions & say hello to Cousin S.

Cousin S is holding the Littlem Man in her arms. The only way to describe the Little Man is a 15 month old rugby player. I love him to bits. You could just eat him up. I meet S's husband P and he seems nice. I get to know P much better throughout the day and he grows on me. But it's the Little Lady and the Little Man with whom I become completely enraptured. I spend the day with Cousin S doing mum stuff all day. I couldn't have asked for a better day. They're great!

I mentioned to S that before I left England I had to have a fish & chip dinner and also a Fry Up for breakfast, among other food things. S & P nicely obliged both of these. Actually, when S told P that I wanted both of those and they were going to get me both...he asked if I could visit every week. :)

We ordered take-away for dinner, which was marvellous. Fish & Chips, with mushy peas and curry sauce, yum, yum, yum.

We stopped by the grocery store on the way home to pick up the makings of a fry up for the following morning. I'm very excited for that. My only apprehension is the two bottles of wine that S & I finished this evening. Did we really drink that much?

Cups of tea - 2

Lonely...

I lie here and wish for his arms around me, holding me close. His warm breath on my neck, gently stroking my arm. His voice in my ear, telling me about his day. The feel of his strong arm on my hand. The safety of his embrace. The comfort of his heartbeat. HIs love for me mixing with my love for him.

Poets write about love more than anything else; wanting it, needing it, having it, lossing it. It drives us , it guides us, it makes us ache. It causes joy, it can create pain.

Where are you? What are you doing? Are you thinking of me? Wondering about me? Looking forward to me as I am for you? Take your time, I am getting ready to someday meet you and I'm glad that you're there...somewhere.

Where is he right now?

(warning...cheese factor)

So where is he right now? My man. The person I will eventually end up with? I mean, what is he doing? Is he just going to bed? Is he out with friends? Maybe it's laundry night or dinner with family? Watching tv, surfing the net? Or is it possible he is somewhere right now wondering where I am?

It sounds so silly and fanciful to think and write this and it will feel even sillier as I retype this for your eyes, but I'm really thinking it.

Things are great. I've made it. I'm a grown up, for real, and yet, yet I still lie here in bed right now and feel lonely. I feel like there's something missing. I know what I'm looking for will come along aas soon as I'm not looking for it. I don't think about it all the time, but I do think about it and I long for it and I wonder now where he is.

I don't have himi in my life because I'm not ready for him yet. And I don't want to meet him until I'm ready. But *sigh* I just want to share my wonderful world with another person and have them share theirs with me. And no, not just any person...the right person.

I guess there are just some moments when I feel lonely, the most lonely. The moments when I hear a beautiful song, or see a great sunrise, or have my breath taken away. But I want someone to dance with to that song or kiss me while the sunrises or the reason that my breath was taken away.

I want to hold and touch and love that person and have them hold and touch and love me right back.

And I get it, I'm not ready. This is my next lesson. I can be just with me. I don't -need- someone else. Why do I need another person? Why do I feel like there's a part of me missing? Is there another half?

All this sounds lik silly, romantic, girlish thoughts. But I want it all. I don't want the wedding and the dress and the flowers. I do want someone to love me while I love them. I want to fall in love and hold them as they fall with me. I want the fairy tale. I want my handsome prince to rescue me from the tower, to wake me with a kiss and I want to rescue him right back.

I want...

England 2005 - Chapter 5

Monday, May 23, 2005 - 10:15pm
THE LITTLE FLOWER

Today I went with Aunt N in the morning, to pick up her new car. A little French sports car. Red. A Peugeot. Quite a nice little number, fast, hot and with a cool hard top automatic convertible thing. I wonder if they could export one to Canada.

We then drove to Manchester and talked quite a lot along the way.

In Manchester we visited Cousin J and I got to meet his beautiful daughter The Little Flower. She is the most precious thing I have ever seen. And I fancy that I can see a little of myself in her face, when I was that small (18 months). It's the same nose and rosy red cheeks. She really is a little flower. A beautiful child both in face and temperment. Just a joy. She quite enjoyed her little Canada bear.

We went out for a walk and lunch in Wilslow. We had lunch in a little cafe, like Startbucks, only as my Cousin J's wife E says, better than Starbucks, because it's not that nasty American coffee. Lol...I should've had myself a cuppa, maybe that's why I don't like coffee...the stuff I get is American crap.

We window shopped through the early afternoon with The Little Flower napped in her stroller. Lots of stuff appealed to me in the shops, but they were all quite high end and too far out of my price range.

I did see some gorgeous umbrellas, all in candy colours, matching my jackets & scarves. All too cute to believe, also too far out of my price range. Three umbrellas would've cots me more than $100. Silly, but now I know what I want.

We went back to J's house where I met his wife E, only quickly as we were leaving. She had been working all day and seemed a little distracted. Her jobs sounds way too stressful... :(

Then N and I went off back home with a stop at Sainsbury's on the way. She needed to pick up food for our tea and I wanted to hit the junks food aisle. I picked up some bags of Mini Jaffa Cakes (yummy, yummy, yum), a big box of Quality Street, some licquorice allsorts, 2 microwaveable sticky toffee puddings and some blackcurrant jello (to be used for jello shooters). Mmmmmmmmm. The crisps I'll big up later. I wanted smaller bags. Mmmmmmmmm. I haven't found a huge selection of black currant sweets, no worries...I'll just hit every candy store in London.

We got home and N made a lovely dinner of marlin. What a nice meaty fish. Then we decided to pop back into town and see a movie with Uncle S. We saw 'A Good Woman', with Helen Hunt and Scarlet Johansen. I don't really like either of these actresses, but was intrigued by both of them while watching this movie. It was a great, quiet, little film, with a nice little twist.

Cups of tea - 4

England 2005 - Chapter 4

Sunday, May 22, 2005 - 11:25pm
LAZY DAY

Another great day. Slept late. Lovely British breakfast (at least it's British to me); muslix, toast with jam, tea, fresh squeezed orange juice.

Drove out to the country for a nice long walk. No rain for this one. Saw some really neat fields that still show the signs of the Saxons at least 500 years ago. You could tell because of the way the fields were still in deep straight ridges.

Back to the house for lunch. Chicken done in a thin mushroom & onion gravy, basmati rice, carrots in cream, and brocoli.

After lunch it was off to Farndon with Uncle S & Aunt N. I fell asleep almost immediately in the car, and woke up about 20 minutes outside of Farndon.

Uncle S has a lovely wisteria growing on the side of the house, which is almost in full bloom, I will take a picture of it and eventually (hopefully) scan in the darn thing and post it here (someday).

Sun showers in the early evening with a gorgeous double rainbow appearing against the black clouds.

As S&N had been on vacation the whole week prior, there was not much in the fridge. N whipped together yummy tuna melts and has given me some ideas for my own tuna melt recipe.

An evening of television ensued, some Dr. Who (to which I've now become addicted), Desparate Housewives (yes, I might have to rent the DVD of the first season of this as well) and some wonderful tongue-in-cheek British news/comedy satire program.

While all this tv watching was going on, I booked my hostel in London, on-line, for the end of the week. I fear that I've been ripped off for £14. I booked through an on-line hostel website, then afterwards I went to the hostel's website to read more about the hostel and found that I had been billed £7 more a night for the Fri & Sat than the hostel itself charged. I have printed all of the info and will question the hostel at check in time about the difference. It was not advertized that the site would charge me a fee. I wasn't worried, I figured that they billed the hostel for their place on the site. Had I been aware I would have looked for more information or called the hostel directly to book.

Off to bed now. Will hit London on Thursday. Seeing Cousin J tomorrow & Cousin S on Tuesday. I will spend the night at her place returning here on Wednesday. Weather and time permitting I'd like to see if I can arrange a trip to West Kirby, where my dad grew up, and visit the seaside.

4 cups of tea

Bugs & Thieves...

...that's what I have to contend with.

If I had to pick one, I'd choose the thieves. Take my stuff, whatever, it's just stuff and I can handle losing stuff...you simply replace it. But bugs *sigh* bugs are so...argh! They're just so intrusive. And they make me feel cheap & dirty (okay...stop with the funny comments, right there...a different kind of cheap & dirty).

I recognize that my neighbourhood is less than desirable and that my building fits that standard. But I can deal with the neighbourhood and the sketch and the thieves. What I can't deal with is the bugs. I hate bugs. Get rid of the bugs. The thieves, they just make me shrug my shoulders and sigh. I mean, how many times is it now? At least 5 that my car has been broken into, since moving to Toronto. I get it...my car is easy to get into...you want money...you nee drugs...you think I might have something that you need or want. Fine, take it and then leave me alone, I'll deal with it.

But bugs...they don't just do what they have to and leave. No, they stick around, they multiply, they're dirty, they're creepy & crawly, they're...ugh!

I have no control. They're pests. Go away, please.

I don't want bugs in my -home-.

Please go away.

England 2005 - Chapter 3

Saturday, May 21, 2005 - 11pm
I CAME TO ENGLAND. IT RAINED.

I have reached my final destination of this leg of my journey at 2:10pm today.

As I come out of the train and walk through the station I am scanning the people for a familiar face. There he is, and boy does he look like my father. I've said it out loud. Wow, I've never seen that resemblance between this uncle and my father before, as I stare into his face curiously. "Wait until you see Uncle S", he says.

It's more than just Uncle A's face, it's something in the voice. I hear it in Uncle S's voice as well. I can hear my father's voice, I can hear my father's accent. The accent that I am never able to hear...that's it. I feel very much at home.

What a wonderful afternoon. Still feeling like a little kid, but being treated like the adult I am, although sometimes I think I'm still acting like the little kid I feel.

Hearing stories I have never been told before. I was taken by Aunt N to get my hair cut at no more than 4 years old. In my shrill little childish voice I rambled-on ad-nauseum for 45 minutes about nothing, while the whole salon did nothing but listen to me. Apparently little has changed in 24 years.

What marvellous meals! A ploughman's style lunch of soup, cheeses, breads, crackers & pate. My FAVOURITES! With a lgass of white wine a perfect compliment. Afternoon tea was served with a slice of an apple-raisen cake with a shortbread base and whipped cream. We had a glass of champagne before dinner, not sparkling...but rather real champagne. And dinner was lovely with a beef stew and lots of veg and potatoes. A glass of red complimenting here.

It is nice to sit and have a seemingly light and uncomplicated meal that fills you up to perfect contentment. Not too little, not too much. And to watch my uncles and see my father all afternoon, the whole thing was relaxing, comfortable and fascinating.

After lunch we struck out for a walk. A light rain looked threatening, but walk we did. The drizzle then began, umbrellas up. Then just as we reached the half way point, the rain came down harder and we hid under a tree as lightening filled the sky (yes, we realized how silly it was to be standing under a tree) and a crash of thunder made us jump. As it let up a bit, we tried to walk some more to get home before the storm really opened up. It was too late, the sky poured down on us, the rain coming down in droves. The new tree where we had paused again was no longer much protection and neither were the umbrellas that were spreading more water around than sheltering us. What an absolute downpour, the sewers couldn't keep up. And a very wet walk home ensured. By our return to the house my pants were drenched from the knees down, thank goodness my coat was nice and long. And as fate will have it the sun was shining before we unlocked the front door.

My vacation - I went to England. It rained.

Cups of Tea - 3

England 2005 - Chapter 2

Saturday, May 21, 2005 - 1:30pm
OH THE HOTEL

Chaos...where to begin...?

(note...in England the side of the road is the KERB not the CURB...weird)

ANYWAYS....

So I get into London and everything is good, except that I don't have the -exact- address of the hotel I've booked to de-jet-lag myslef. I have the basic directions and it should be no problem. I walk for a good 20 minutes. Just before 8am, sleep deprived, slowly becoming hysterical. I've tried calling the hotel twice, no answer. They had better be there. They had better be ready for me. I'm almost two hours later than I expected I'd be, lots of time to sleep...lost.

I return to the tube (subway) station where I got off and speak to the man selling papers. He is a great help and I'm on my way again. Shortly before 8am I arrive. I ring the day betll...oops, and then I ring the night bell. The lad setting up breakfast for the guests lets me in. He is not Barry, the man I spoke with when I booked over the phone. This guy speaks very poor English and appears to understand even less, smiling and nodding his head at my hysterical questions. Then Barry comes upstairs and hooks me up with a key to the room. The room is on the third floor and it's all stairs. I'm already hot and sweaty from the walk, but all I want to do is get some, what is passing for as, sleep, these days.

I can't get my bag in the room, the door opens and hits the side of the bed. Up & over with the suitcase. I am soooooooooooo overtired, cranky, frustrated and possibly a little bit home sick. I just want to cry. I'm not home sick for any one or thing in particular, but for familiarity.

I open the window. I close the blinds. I crawl into the tiny but surprisingly comfortable, crisp little bed.

Not bad really. Cheapest I could find that was available for my strange early morning request. I might just stay here at the end of the week when I'm back in London...why not?

England 2005 - Chapter 1

Saturday, May 21, 2005 - 7:30 BST (British Standard Time) ;) Please note that for all further entries the time of the entry shall be recorded in BST.
ARRIVAL

It's fun to travel alone. Figuring things out, where you're going and such. Knowing that you're probably paying too much but having no idea really.

However, I am so happy right now and have so many thoughts tumbling through my head that I sort of wish I had a friend with me. Someone to giggle in delight to. To look at everything with, so British...yay!

It sounds silly, but I feel silly. And it looks like the sun might actually make an appearance today.

I'm just happy to be here, and a little tired I think, too. :)

I'll be less spacey after a nap.

Last Night a DJ Saved My Life

I walk onto the dance floor and look up. An aura of light shines around a man, head tilted, ear on his shoulder, fingers moving wildly. He stands above the crowd. They are all facing him, worshipping him. The sound in the room is coming from him.

He is controlling the sound, many layers of sound. Do they work together? I'm listening. One folds into the other, two becomes one. Another makes its presence known. So many layers, so much depth.

He lifts me up. I go with him. The crowd is mesmerized, they are with him too.

Something skips. Is he losing control? He seems to look up. Is that a twinkle in his eye? He is so focused. Was that a glitch? Is he playing with me, with us? Is he...no wait, not a glitch, there it is again. He's doing it on purpose. He pulls it all together.

He is a conductor and we are the instruments. He is creating the sound, but he is playing us in tune. The music lilts, the bass pounds, the high-hat tickles. So many sounds, so much music. He is in control of all of them. So many sounds, so much music, from so many places.

Oh, he's teasing me. How does he do that?

Two become one. Three become one. Four become...how many are there? You find a layer and you start to feel another and it's gone and another two have replaced it. One becomes two. One becomes three. One becomes...Oh GOD!

I'm moving. I can't stop. He's holding my strings.

He is my preacher.

He is my puppet master.

He is my DJ.

Thank you Richie Hawtin!

England 2005 - Prelude

Friday, May 20, 2005 - 3pm
TIME

Can you feel the effects of time? Can you actually feel the minutes slip by? It's been heard said many times "it feels like this is taking forever". An over exaggeration surely, but we've all said it at one point or another. The other is "time flies when you're having fun." It's as though we don't get enough of the good times but way too much of the bad times.

So what got me off on this tangent?

This morning I came into work and I'd been rushing around to get some stuff done, as I was leaving for my trip, from work at noon, and wanted to be organized. As I got to the office I stopped to speak to the receptionist to say good morning. She mentioned that one of my brokers had called and was wondering where I was. The urgency with which she delivered this message caught me off guard. Wow, I wasn't all -that- late. No later than usual at least. So I asked the receptionist what time was it? Having left my cellphone at home, I didn't have a time piece with me. She informed me that it was 9:45am.

At that point I felt as thought I'd fallen into a wormhole of sorts. Like time had quickly hit fast forward. I was more than an hour late for work! How did that happen? Was my clock radio fast? Had I screwed up setting it the night before? Is that why it had been so easy to get up this morning, because it was an hour later? NO! I'm sure I looked at other clocks in the apartment, hadn't I? And the morning radio show, they had all be the same as yesterday; 6:30 Stump the Chump, 7:30 the entertainment gossip, 8:00 the entertainment gossip follow up. What was going on? How long -was- that streetcar ride?

"WHAT!?!" I asked, "Oh sorry, I meant 8:45am" she replied.

And then I had to regroup, to jump back. No, everything was fine. My clock was not wrong. There was nothing to worry about. I hadn't lost an hour somewhere this morning. All was fine.

And yet, for the next few minutes, I was still feeling the effects of my time travel and would for the rest of the week as I would spend hours enroute in the air, on the train, changing times zones and correcting my internal clock to another sense of time. Then to try and correct it all back again. I've been travelling, but I've been travelling through time and back again.