I promise I am working on more material!

Life has just runaway with me a bit. Between work, fibromyalgia and Ziggy, I'm pretty exhausted all the time. But today's my day off work and Husbit and Ziggy are curled up on the sofa watching TV to give me a chance to do my own thing for once. 

 

Well, I say "for once", but I do get to go to circus once a week and play Mage once a month. It's not much, but it's something, and I'll be teaching private circus lessons soon, which I'm really excited about.

 

Blogger's changed a lot since I was last here. Wasn't expecting that.

 

I've got a Mage post in draft, and it's October so I want to write a spooky short story - espeically as I missed RPGaDAY for the first time this year. In the meantime, here's a photo of a cat that thinks it lives here even though it doesn't. 

 

We're staying safe here, but I've reached a point where I'm absolutely convinced that the horrid cold I had over Christmas/New Year was covid: I completely lost my sense of smell for about 8 weeks, and have realised that it's still absolutely terrible now. I'd assumed it was the masks at work meant I wasn't smelling bodily fluids and other excretia as strongly as expected, and that I'd just got used to Ziggy's nappies, but a few comments about smells in rooms from colleagues who haven't had covid or suspected covid made me realise I just don't smell any more, unless I deliberately sniff a thing. It's a bit sad, because I used to have a pretty good sense of smell. They say it wasn't in the country then, certainly not in this part of the country, but I'm sure that's what I had. Reinfection has been confirmed, though, so I'm still not taking chances.

 

I hope you're all well. Thank you for bearing with me. I promise I will get more RPG/fiction related stuff out again at some point!

Life and Plague and Stuff

Oh dear, how did it get so long between posts?

Oh yeah, I have a baby... or more accurately now, a toddler.

I also went back to full time work, had a bit of a breakdown, and am now trying to job hunt in other, less mentally taxing career fields. Which, with the whole covid virus thing, isn't that easy - though I might be able to work part time in a nearby care home, which I think would suit me, and the hours are much better than where I was. Shame it's so badly paid.

Basically, I was a software developer for a big company, who sold my department overseas. Not fancying a commute to Jo'burg, I came back off maternity straight into redundancy. Managed to find a new job straightaway, but unfortunately using the languages I like the least and doing web development, which I just don't find very interesting. The company had a very set way of doing things, so every time I completed a task, it would be reviewed and I'd be told I'd done it wrong, with no support on how to do it right the first way ("oh, just look at what's already there. Yeah, don't look at that bit, it's legacy." "Well which bit should I look at?" "Oh, figure it out.") The hours meant I barely saw Ziggy, and he became so distressed every time I left him that my heart was breaking - and he doesn't sleep through the night, so with the high level thinking I was exhausted. I'd stand in the kitchen crying before I had to leave, but it wasn't until a few weeks after I'd finished that I realised how ill I'd become. I'm on anti-anxiety meds, and have a panic attack whenever I try and code, even for fun. It's frustrating, because I used to truly love coding, and I think if I'd been able to go back to my old job it would have been fine (flexi-time and I was confident in what I was doing).

Message from Ziggy:   \ \bjnbbbbbbxxzgh\\ nnnnnnnnnnnv       j. 

And resuming. The saddest news is that Kitty died. She reached a point where we knew she had to be put down, but it was still the hardest decision we've ever made and really shook us both up. The vet was fantastic, very gentle with her and with us. He'd nursed her through the end few months and was fighting back tears himself.

I have a huge, feline shaped hole in my life and really want another rescue cat, but Husbit's not quite ready, and we'll need to be patient to get the right cat (friendly, short haired, ideally one I'm not allergic to, and most importantly one who's happy with small children). Ziggy loves all the neighbourhood cats, so he'll be thrilled but we'll have to make sure he's respectful. He is usually good with cats, at least - desperate to pet them but fairly gentle and I've only once had to stop him chasing one who'd walked away.

This is Biscuit, who haunts the local park and loves to play with the children.

We're currently covid free here. There's a few confirmed and more suspected cases in my general area, but only one of my friends has even a suspected case. We've had to close circus for now, which made me really sad - but on the plus side, I've got some of the equipment in my hall waiting for the owner to come by and collect so we'll still be able to play on the new rig she's ordered. In small, symptom-free groups, and assuming the advice doesn't get even stricter... (And if it does, I might be able to borrow a rig for my own garden...)

Like most people I've spoken to, I'm less worried about actually catching the virus (despite my asthma) than the economic impact of it. I am concerned about a few older friends and family members, and I'd be terrified if it was having a big impact on small children, but as it stands I'm fairly calm. The panic buying is frustrating, though: rice is about the only thing Ziggy will consistently eat, so we get through a lot and currently can't replenish our stash. The most annoying bit is hearing from friends who work in depots that there are no actual shortages: the problems are logistic in that people are buying too fast. If everyone slowed down, it would be fine, but instead we're in this stupid spiral.

Pathfinder is on hiatus, though this is partly down to a house move on the part of one player. We're finishing up the 'interlude' section where I play Jvala, and I'm very exciting at the thought of getting back to my beloved Svetlana. We will shortly be attempting our first remote Mage game via Discord - a medium I never got my head round, so this should be interesting. Wish me luck!

Best wishes and stay safe everyone!

Quick Update

Normally after RPGaDay, I'm a bit burnt out for a while but doing it as weekly rather than daily posts hasn't had the same effect this year (though maybe also because I'm still on maternity so wasn't trying to fit it in around a job). This year, my delay in further posts is because Ziggy has an uncanny ability to wake up as soon as I turn my laptop on - and at the moment it's very difficult to type with him around as he wants to eat the mouse and the power cable, or bang on the keys...

He's currently napping beautifully, so I'm sneaking on quickly!

Kitty is still going. She's become quite adept at getting around with 3 working legs, but can't figure out how to claw up the furniture any more (yay!). Our neighbours even saw her jump a fence the other day, though she insists to us she can't get over the stairgates. She's losing weight rapidly, no matter how much we feed her, but while she stays content we'll continue to look after her.

Ziggy adores her, but isn't very good with his love. She likes to sleep in basically a blanket fort on the sofa, and he'll lift the blanket up to flush her out, even pulling the blanket right off if she doesn't respond (and we don't intervene quickly enough). She'll sit down next to him, though, and then give us evil looks if we let him touch her. She doesn't mind him stroking if we hold his hand and control him, but he hasn't learnt the importance of gentleness yet. He's getting bigger and more mobile, so it is getting harder to protect her from him, and she seems to want to troll him anyway, walking right past him when the easier route takes her the other side of the room. I find that fascinating.

I'm in the middle of writing up a Mage post, but it's slow going because of Ziggy - I get a sentence, maybe a paragraph done at a time. I'm also using his sleep time for knitting, researching, and playing City of Heroes (or, more accurately, logging into CoH and moving my characters to new day job locations. If I'm very lucky, I might get to do a mission with one of them).

Researching is to do with the novel I think I might actually manage to write. I read Call the Midwife by Jennifer Worth and she mentions that there are no (or few) books in which a midwife - or even a nurse - is the main character, and something in my brain went "challenge accepted". This being me, I'm looking at a fantasy setting. Most of the fantasy I've read is heavily influenced by medieval Europe, so I thought I'd start by learning more about medicine and midwifery there. My local library were intrigued by the challenge and tracked down a few books they thought might help, but couldn't find anything specific (the best match, a history of nursing, was held in a reference library in a different county so they couldn't fetch that). I've got a book on women in medieval society, a book on medieval society and the manor court, and one about science in history, that includes Ancient Greek and Egyptian medicine so that sounds useful.

I've started with a chapter about sex, marriage and motherhood in the medieval women book, and have been interested by some of the misconceptions they held about the female body and also about misconceptions the modern world has about the role of sex in marriage (we think, or at least I did, that sex was something a man considered his right to take from his wife, but in fact sex was a debt each owed the other: the man also was expected to provide sex to his wife when she wanted). A lot of it stems from Christian influence that won't be relevant to my story but is still interesting. I want to create a more egalitarian society, but there are concepts I'm reading about that I want to include. I had the bones of the story, and the shape of the beginning and the end, and this is giving me ideas to help flesh out the middle. I only have the books for another couple of weeks, though, and start my new job next week, so I'm hoping I'll be able to renew the loan a few times as I'm not going to be able to get through them otherwise!

Quick Life Update

It's August already, and I only noticed because I poked Instagram and spotted an update from Dave Chapman referencing this year's #RPGaDay, and I was only on Instagram because I'm job hunting and a prospective employer mentioned she'd looked me up and seen my account there, and I realised I hadn't updated it in ages.

So starting with RPGaDay - I intend to take part. Now I've seen the graphic, I'm intrigued by the prompts (though find the graphic itself less clear than the previous format. More fun, but less clear). Between the Cat and Ziggy, I have less opportunities to spend time on my laptop so I think I'm going to write up as many as I can when I get the opportunity and post them to go live on Sundays in a "weekly round up" style.

Kitty's still doing ok. She's not eating as well as she was immediately after the steroid injection but is still eating better than before it. Her front right leg is now almost completely useless to her and the muscle is wasting away, but the limp that was developing in her left back leg has fixed itself. We assume she'd strained it compensating for her front leg. She's doing a very good job of getting around, albeit more slowly. She still comes up at around 6am and jumps on the bed, miaowing for cuddles. 

The job hunt is because I'm in gardening leave. I did 6 months maternity and went back to work for a few days, then gardening leave started. My department's been sold to an offshore company, who sensibly enough want to bring it to their continent and I didn't want to follow. Husbit has also been made redundant, but was always going to leave his job to be primary parent so this way we got an unexpected payout. My job was under threat before I fell pregnant and the dates confirmed before I left for maternity leave, so it's not unexpected. What's frustrating is that this time last year I was looking around at what was out there, and there were loads of jobs in my industry that were lower responsibility than I'd had and for nearly 50% more income, so I wasn't worried. Those jobs have all now dried up and I'm anxious. I'm also struggling to prove myself in technical tests. I spent 4 years or so being told how good I am at programming and I'd finally internalised that, and now the feedback I'm getting over and over again is that my technical tests aren't up to standard. I have, fortunately, managed to get an interview despite that (showing personality counts for something), but it's really knocked my confidence. It also means I'm going to be on a wage barely above what I was on before, which is not enough to cover our bills so that's super stressful. I'm going to have to work hard to prove myself and get a pay rise (wherever I end up)  before my redundancy payout runs out. (The recruiter sounded annoyed when I mentioned I had to give notice or I'd lose the payout. I didn't like to mention I don't really want to start before the gardening leave naturally comes to an end because I don't want to miss Ziggy more than I have to, and I'm still breastfeeding. I'm prepared to if I have to, but I don't like it.) I don't want to whine about it, but writing my worries is one of the ways I deal with them. Which leads on to the thought that I'd love to write a novel and get it published, and necessity may help my enthusiasm cut through my self-doubt (and my reluctance to edit).

Ziggy continues to do well. He's got 6 teeth cut through, with several other little bumps. He can walk while holding on - even a few steps holding with only one hand! He can run with both hands (and climb stairs the same way). The last couple of days, he's started crawling! He doesn't get very far, tending to use it as a way to get closer to something he's already sitting near. He's currently playing with blocks and watching Hey, Duggee (the only kids' show we don't find annoying. One episode is about the right length for his attention and gives us a 7minute break). I'd like to do a proper post soon, showing him swimming and at circus and bouncing and all the other things he enjoys.

In summary, life is more stressful than I like right now, but not insurmountably so, and I'm still getting great pleasure out of the things I love.

Kitty

Does have lymphoma. She also has a limp they thought initially was arthritis but now think is a tumour, and another leg has started limping since then. She's on steroids to make her feel better and encourage her to eat, and they do seem to be helping but they aren't a cure. We're giving her lots of love and affection and all the food she asks for. We're hoping she makes it to Christmas, but have no idea how long she might have: the only way to find out would be invasive exploratory surgery which doesn't seem fair to her. For now, she's happy and we'll do what we can to keep her happy as long as possible.

 

Real Life Interlude

Between Ziggy, Cat and the discovery of the Homecoming City of Heroes servers, I found myself without the time to blog that I'd managed to carve out a few weeks ago. But not just that - the post I was working on when I stalled again is necessarily very critical of my mother-in-law and I felt bad about writing and publishing it - especially as the wounds are still very fresh. However, she recently bought me a load of yarn (I think her way of apologising without needing to actually apologise, which I'll take) and I'm feeling better about her and so, strangely, better about writing a post critical of her. Maybe because I can end it with a positive.

Anyway, that will come later. The post is about the first week or so of Ziggys life, which was difficult and stressful and jumbled so will take time to untangle onto the page. Or screen. In the meantime, I've been knitting and playing Heroes (mostly the Reunion server. Global handle @Tempest Skydancer) and looking after Ziggy and Cat and playing Aberrant and Pathfinder and reading and playing Pokemon Go and teaching aerial and occasionally managing to train aerial and overall feeling pretty good.

 
Kitty has been losing weight. We put it down to the stress of Ziggy's arrival at first, but then she seemed ill and we found a lump on her back so took her to the vets. Turned out to be a cyst, but they were aso worried about the weight loss so ran bloods then did an ultrasound and long story short she's either had an infection that she's recovering from and is getting older, or she has lymphoma. We're overfeeding her for a few weeks, then back to the vets. If she's recovering her weight, then it's the former. If not, they can start her on steroids but there's not much more they can offer: lymphoma in cats doesn't respond well to chemotherapy, which would destroy her quality of life and be dangerous to Ziggy. She does seem to be gaining weight so we're hopeful but anxious.

Ziggy's growing so fast! I mean, babies are known to but he's huge for his age. Part of me loves having a mini giant, and part of me wishes to have a little baby. He moved nonstop in the womb, and that hasn't changed, meaning he's also a very strong baby who's already standing with minimal support (he'll hold your fingers and pull himself up, and sometimes he'll let go with one hand and stay upright!), and starting to try to walk (with inconsistent success). He still can't sit unsupported for long, and is nowhere near being able to crawl. He's smiley and chatty and loves singing and shoving things in his mouth. We've let him test a few vegetables - raw carrot sticks seem to help with teething (he has 2 teeth already), while potato appears to be quite tasty and broccoli is both tasty and a great toy (he cried when he ran out).

I have to go back to work tomorrow, which I'm dreading. Only for half a day, then another few half days before I go on gardening leave - my department got sold to a company based in South Africa, which was a bit too far a commute for me. Then 3 more months home with him, but I need to use that time to find a new job to start soon after and that's a stressful feeling, especially with the Brexit bullshit hovering over us. I'm terrible at interviews so need to train that and create a suitable online profile to demonstrate I'm good at my job (which I am, but the technologies I've primarily used are outdated - I've only used IDEs in training seminars - I've mostly coded C, bash and php in vim! But I learn fast. They took me on with no knowledge, no experience at all and in a matter of months I'd overtaken people with years of experience. It's just the way my brain's wired. And I need to learn how to say that in an interview... I don't have a portfolio at the moment because my drive to code has been focussed on what I do at work (and since Ziggy arrived I've been too busy looking after him and have only recently started to recover my life). I'm hoping to use my half days to set up on github, something I probably should have done long before. I also need to dust off and probably reset my linkedin profile. Wish me luck!

Birthing Debrief pt1

From the title of my previous post about the arrival of Ziggy (here), you probably twigged he was born on Christmas Day. Just.

This is the post where I'm going to go into a lot more detail of the labour and birth. If that doesn't interest you, here's a photo of the Cat. If you are interested, carry on reading below.

 

He was due on a Sunday. I had my 28 week appointment at 28+2, the Tuesday after the 28 week mark based on the due date. That afternoon, I developed Braxton Hicks 'practice contractions'. They'd build up until we thought labour was starting, then stop for 8-12 hours. This continued until the Saturday 6 days after he was due, when I felt a big shift in his position. He'd been beautifully head down and was close to engaged, back slightly to the side of perfect, so I was hopeful this was him (or it, as he still was at the time) getting fully engaged ready for labour. Contractions were 7 minutes apart for an hour. We kicked our roleplay group out and started clearing things ready to call the midwife. The contractions stopped.

Something was different when I woke the next morning. No contractions yet, but I knew this was the day labour would start. It was my big sister's birthday and I was a bit concerned it wasn't the most diplomatic day to arrive (though she would have been delighted). We met my younger siblings at a pub for lunch, then wandered back to brother's house for tea and chatting. Sister handed me niece, who was nearly 7 months at this point, and i sat and sniffed her head (sniffing the head of a newborn is said to help people go into labour. Of the old wives' tales on the subject, this is the only one I know anyone to have had any success with). Slowly, I became more confident that the contractions weren't Braxton Hicks any more, and Husbit and I headed home once more.

The midwife at the end of the line wasn't my midwife, and (given my niblings arrived in quick labours and based on what I described) she suspected I would have the baby if not that Sunday then certainly early enough on the Monday she'd be the one delivering it rather than my midwife. I was to call back as things progressed.

It becomes a bit of a blur after that.

She didn't come out until the Monday morning. My contractions still weren't fully regular, but the intensity was such she came to check. I was 2cm dilated, though she could already stretch me all the way to 10 (I gather this is unusual and suspect relates to my hypermobility). She checked and found he'd gone back to back, and did a membrane sweep (which I was due to have that day anyway). When the contractions started making me throw up, she reassured us that this was normal for some women, something about the muscles helping push on the baby. She advised feeding me teaspoons of honey, as the sugars are absorbed through the gums so even if I ended up unable to keep anything down, at least I'd have some energy going in. I became very grateful for this advice. The midwife then left, saying mine would come along as soon as her shift started, which she did.

My stepmum had stayed over the Sunday night, and my sister came to relieve her on the Monday. I remember asking Husbit for a back rub, and the Cat, clearly concerned hopping onto my back and kneading the exact area. I remember my midwife making me lie on my side during contractions to help him back to the right position, only once she'd said I could labour how I felt comfortable again (labouring on you side is painful) I went back on all fours and he went back to the wrong position. I remember the gas and air making me feel even more nauseated and high and slightly out of control. I remember the birthing pool was the only place I had any comfort or relief. I remember squatting in it with Husbit pouring new water in close enough to my lower back to soothe it, but ont so close as to scald me, and staring at my sister saying "I can't do this" with her holding my gaze and very calmly repeating "you can do this. You are doing this. This is what doing this feels like." She doesn't remember what she said, but it was the combination of her calm tone and the focussed eye contact as much as the words that helped me through.

 

Progress was so slow. I was barely 4cm dilated by the afternoon, my contractions weren't coming at sufficiently regular intervals, and weren't consistent strengths. It was real labour, but it wasn't a good one. My midwife broke my waters and said she'd check dilation again a bit later, but if I still wasn't far enough we'd need to go to hospital. Bang went my secret dream of him arriving in his sac, but I was too exhausted to regret it for more than a few seconds. It was a weird experience, and I had a brief panic that the shower curtain we'd laid over the sofa wasn't waterproof enough before deciding I didn't care (turns out it was fine). I remember finding it a surreal experience, and that the waters were really warm, but I don't remember much else until we got to the time my midwife had said she'd do her next examination. She started to say that she'd take a look, but as I turned my exhausted face to her she said she wouldn't bother: I wanted to go to hospital either way. I could barely nod agreement, then had the panic that I couldn't have gas and air in the car. Even though I'd hated it, I felt like I couldn't cope without. My sister had to leave at the same time, but fortunately my stepmum arrived just intime to accompany us. She sat in the back of our car with Husbit driving and me desperately sucking on the mouthpiece (unconnected, I actually found it gave more relief because I could breathe deeply with it without worrying about the side effects) beside her. It's a 15min drive down nice, wide roads, but I don't think a drive has ever been so frightening for Husbit.

 

My midwife met us at the hospital, helped me into a chair and I was wheeled to the delivery suite. I could tell we were there by the grunts, cries and screams behind the closed doors around us. They quickly found me a room and my midwife handed me over to a stranger. Somehow, I hadn't realised that coming to hospital meant giving up the midwife I'd built a relationship with, and part of me wanted to change my mind and try again at home. I knew I couldn't, but I didn't want Marghuerita to go. 

 

Among the other benefits of a homebirth is that my birthplan was pretty loose: I'd like to give birth at home, in the birthing pool. I don't want pethadine (family history of issues). I would like delayed cord clamping (default option for our local homebirth team). As for the injection to speed placenta delivery, we'll see how I feel when we get there. When the first of the hospital midwives took charge of me, she wrote down the ones still relevant: no pethadine and delayed cord clamping. She also asked us about cord cutting, and we offered that to my stepmum (as Husbit didn't want to do it), which she was delighted by. Husbit went to buy me some energy drink (something pink, either raspberry powerade or pink lucozade. I drank a lot of both over the next week). The anaesthesiologist arrived to talk me through the epidural, but she went faint and dizzy as she went to start the procedure so went home sick, meaning we had to wait for another to come over from the main hospital. This took so long and I was in so much clear distress that the midwife now in charge of me had talked me round on pethadine and had the needle in her hand when the replacement arrived. He went through all the spiel about the dangers etc, then very quickly fixed me up. He sprayed me with a cold spray to check it had worked - clearly had, because I remember giggling where it tickled my sides, though I couldn't tell the difference in where it should have taken effect, something the midwife noticed so she re-sprayed me more slowly after he'd left. She felt that the epidural wasn't quite even but not to worry about. I could still barely feel a difference between the affected and non-affected area, but it was enough. They examined me and found he'd swung into the correct position and I'd jumped to fully dilated in the time it had taken to give me the epidural, so while I was still in huge amounts of pain for 2 out of 3 contractions it had clearly worked.

 

I was now in the active, push push push stage. So I push push pushed. After an hour or so, he hadn't budged so they gave me an oxitocin drip. This switched up my contractions: the third weak contraction dropped away entirely, and one of the other 2 increased in strength, but he still wasn't moving. They upped my epidural a couple of times, though never so much I couldn't move my legs. They kept checking my pushing, telling me to push "like I was doing a poo" until I doubted my ability to defecate under normal circumstances (Husbit says he thought they were expecting me to actually poo - a common occurance in childbirth - and kept trying to explain to them I hadn't been able to keep any food down for over 24 hours so was unlikely to do so). Eventually, they got in a doctor, who checked, confirmed my contractions were still all over the place and that I was pushing correctly, he was just stuck. She said she'd be able to use forceps in the room and to call her back once I was prepped... I don't think it took long (though by this point I was so out of it I was sleeping through some contractions), but she'd been called into surgery when they went for her. I'd been anxious about being in stirrups, thinking I'd be working against gravity but the bed could be adjusted so that wasn't the case. I was in that active, push push push labour for 3 hours 56 minutes.

The consultant did eventually return. Very quickly, my epidural dose was increased (I heard the doctor tell me to do this, but was too tired so a midwife kindly did it for me) and I was snipped, the forceps inserted and I was instructed to push as they pulled. I was too exhausted. I had nothing left. The midwife pushed down on my bump for me. I must have dozed off immediately, because they'd told me to do nothing on the next contraction, but my experience was that that next contraction was the one where he arrived.

The floomph of his body leaving mine was intoxicating.

They switched off the epidural immediately. I heard Husbit and my stepmum's voices, but not the words. I heard someone - the doctor or a midwife, not sure - say he was a boy and I had enough time to think "but I wanted a girl! What if I can't bond with him?" before he was shoved up the hospital gown to land on my chest in a puddle of goo. I had two concurrent thoughts then. One at the weight of him: "That's not what a newborn feels like! No wonder I had trouble.".

The other thought, at the feel of him, the smell of him, the sight of him, was overwhelming, so powerful it must have deafened receiving telepaths and given all psychics a headache this county and the next one over.

"MINE!"

 

Happy Bonfire Night!

Remember, Remember, the Fifth of November

Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot

I see no reason why Gunpowder Treason

Should ever be forgot

Or that's how I thought it went. Today I learnt that there's loads of version of it, icluding one that's significantly longer and includes a lot more details about Guy Fawkes and the plot and how he was caught.

I love bonfire night. As a child, we'd have a big bonfire in our back garden, on the veg patch (good for fertilising the soil). The next door neighbours and the neighbours over the road, who both had children around our age, would come over with food and fireworks and sparklers, and Dad would make mulled wine, carefully boiling off all the alcohol so we could have some too. Some years we went next door while the adults were prepping, and watched The BFG.

I remember one year waiting in the front garden for other guests to arrive by car, and they were taking so long, but then we saw shooting stars so started making wishes on those - eventually realising they were rockets.

We'd bring in the guinea pig and rabbit, and make sure the cat was in too, but they never seemed fussed by the noises. (Our current feline cohabitee seems to actively enjoy fireworks: if she can, she'll sit on the window cill or in the back garden to watch them, coming back if she hears more after she's moved away. If she can't see anything, she'll sit in one of her usual spots and never flinch when the bangs occur.)

The only bit I didn't like was burning the guy: Dad would make it out of his old clothes stuffed with newspaper, and I didn't mind helping with that (though I'd sometimes get upset if he was intending to use a jumper I particularly liked), but when it was burnt I always felt like we were burning him, somehow, so I'd go inside and put underpants on my toys heads (ears through the leg holes; no idea why I did this!) and re-enact displays by drawing fireworks and mimicking the noises.

Screaming rockets have always been my favourite fireworks.

(I love Hallowe'en too. Dad used to be annoyed by trick-or-treaters that have grown in number in the UK over my lifetime, until he connected it with the old "penny for the guy" that he'd done as a child. Started out by saying that at least his showed some skill, before realising that we and most of our friends were putting together our own costumers and also that he was begging for money, while we were after sweets.)

Anyway, this year is our first in this neighbourhood. We were very impressed with the amount of young, polite trick-or-treaters we saw out last week, and this week I've been impressed by the amount of firework displays going off - and especially that they're done by about 9.30! Lots of young families and older people around here.

They were talking on the news last week about how some older people find fireworks very stressful, especially those with dementia and memories of the war. That hadn't occurred to me before, but reiterates to me how important it is to check on your elderly neighbours. There's what we think is an old people's residential unit over the road from us, and they had a lovely display Saturday evening, so I think they were probably well supported.

It seems funny to continue to celebrate a failed attempt to kill a king over 400 years ago. Dad told me it was a way to fold in pre-Christian rituals that continued to hang around in a way that was acceptable to the Church at the time, and that presumably there's something in the human psyche wanting a celebration with lots of fire and things to ward off evil spirits (the masks of Hallowe'en and the fireworks of tonight) about now. The onset of winter (in the northern hemisphere), one imagines. Reminds me of a post I read on another blog recently, about encorporating holidays into RPG's.

Anyway, if you're celebrating, have fun tonight, and don't forget to check for hedgehogs before lighting your bonfire!

Adventures in Moving - part 2

Sorry for the complete lack of anything for a while! Have not abandoned this blog, just busy with real life stuff and awaiting a replacement laptop. Has just arrived and I'm very excited - so shiny!

We're pretty much completely settled in now - Cat has several favourite spots to sit, and all except 2 rooms are unpacked. One of our friends is bringing by some extra bookshelves, which should mean we can finish off one of those rooms; the other is a mix of my clothes that won't fit in the wardrobe until we put up another rail (Husbit's working on it - he's learning DIY and everything!), and hobby stuff. My yarn is neatly tucked away, but the various Blood Bowl teams and old GW Fantasy/Gothic/Epic armies we own haven't yet found a satisfactory home. We want to turn that room into a decent guest room, so we need to get on it.

Games on shelves, and boxes of books

The garden looks amazing. Husbit's mum has a friend who's a gardener, so between the two of them they've transformed it! Decking and fencing have been treated, the barbecue pit cleaned and new grates purchased, a raised veg patch and compost heap built, and new turf laid.

Husbit strimming the old, lumpy lawn

Husbit and I need to clear the top layer of rubbish soil from the bed at the side of the lawn, and stick that in the veg box, then get some compost in there and finish with some top soil, which we'll also add to the bed. It's all new to both of us, so we're kinda enjoying it, but a little anxious that it's more work than we're going to want to do (I think it'll be fine - I keep hearing how addictive gardening can be, and I love Gardeners' Question Time on Radio 4). The bed is going to have a mix of herbs and shrubs such as ferns; the veg box will definitely have raspberries and then I'll see how I go; and I recently learnt that you can grow fruit trees in pots, so that's something we both want to try. 

Location-wise, it's really convenient for me for work, but my job ends in a year when the department closes, and it's a lot more awkward for Husbit. We're also further from a lot of our friends than we'd like - but closer to others. We're no longer a 10/15min walk from the beach - far enough we'd need to cycle or drive - but we're within walking distance of the heaths and woodlands I grew up in, and our nearest beach is stunning. Nearest shops are about the same distance, but close earlier and are up a steep hill. (Actually, there are nearer shops, but for value and choice you need to walk a little further.) The neighbourhood is really nice, though. It's the area near where I grew up that had a really rough reputation, that even then it didn't entirely deserve any more. We love how friendly most of the neighbours are, and how quiet the roads. There's a little play park within spitting distance (and the big park I spent a lot of time in isn't much further, though you have to cross a main road). The nearest Pokestop is a bit of a trek now, but that's ok.

The really exciting bit of moving news is that my plan to fall pregnant ASAP worked: baby is due a week or so before Christmas (and I've left this to the end so if you're not interested you can skip it, and there's a tag "parenting while geek" you can ignorein future). Their room is fairly well organised - the previous owners left some furniture, some of which will go in the attic for now, but will be useful again when the child is... well, a child rather than a baby, and we've been offered cots and cribs and a changing table so that feels good.

12 week scan photot - there are fingers!

I found the first trimester quite hard - to begin with, I enjoyed it anyway because I was so excited, but the constant aches and nausea and exhaustion wore me down. Fortunately, I stopped feeling quite so ill by about week 10 (though would still throw up if I drank cold water for a few weeks. Cold sugary drinks and tap water - which was verging tepid due to the rising temperature - were fine), and while I'm still tired and still have aches in weird places, I'm not nearly as tired as was. I'm at a point where I feel a lot of little wriggles and that's creepy and weird and exciting. Can't wait to meet the wriggle monster! Nicknamed "Ziggy" because it sounds a bit like zygote and is nicely gender neutral. It looks like we've decided on a girl's name, and the possible list for boys is now quite short.

I was really surprised and delighted how excited my midwife was about me doing aerial - I was expecting to be told "no no no no no!" because of the fall etc, although I've taken steps to protect there. She thought it sounded great, because it's important to exercise throughout pregnancy and I clearly enjoy it. She says also because it works on your abs, it should provide benefit when I'm in labour - and she could tell I have good abs, because of the shape of my bump. Kinda explains why all the other circus mums had the neatest bumps I'd seen! Mine arrived really quickly, especially considering this is my first.

The current UK heatwave is killing me. I've been signed off for 2 weeks (so the timing of the arrival of the shiny new laptop was fortuitous!) to help me cope. I'd be struggling anyway, because this weather is the most consistent trigger I know for my fibromyalgia symptoms (which seem to be reduced by the pregnancy, although baby brain and fibro fog are basically the same thing, so that's been interesting).

Anyway, I need to go get some sleep for a bit. Can feel my body crashing. I'll post now and try to remember to come back later and add some images. (Woo, I remembered!)

Adventures in Moving

EEEEEEEE!

Over a year of stress and torment and losing faith in humanity, we've finally moved into our first house!

We started moving in during the snow. Husbit built me a snowman in our old garden and we packed the van with the help of Bells (of Kito/Adam/Howard/Aaron/Tanna/Tesla fame). The new garden is much bigger and is all ours (and has a built-in barbecue!)

Excluding furniture, our flat fits in one room. 

 

 

Cat was a bit confused to begin with, as her furniture disappeared around her. We were worried she might run off and hide, but instead every time she got too concerned she came running up to us and mewed until we picked her up and cuddled her - something she doesn't normally let us do for long. I then drove her to pick up the keys while Husbit drove the van. She didn't enjoy the drive, grabbing me every time I changed gear or put on the handbrake - as the claw marks on my hand show - but had a quick explore of the house once we got here, helped us make the beds and picked herself a favourite spot.

 

 

 

Our new home is a bit cold - the central heating runs from a log burner, and we're struggling to get heat through all the radiators, but that does make for cosy evenings. We've requested a gas supply - the company said 3 months until Husbit told them I'm asthmatic and have fibromyalgia andEDS(hypermobility), at which point they said they could get it installed within 3 weeks (nice that being bad at breathing has come in handy for something), and my amazing daddy is paying for us to have a modern boiler fitted once that's sorted (a literal housewarming present). Looking forward to some real warmth!

 

The people who sold the place to us were absolutely lovely and have left loads of stuff, including a lovely dining table. They fostered children, and everyone who came through (including friends and visitors) had to sign that table, so they left it on the understanding we would too. So we did.

 

 

My lovely little sister just called via WhatsApp so I could give her the video tour.

 

Very happy in our new home. Tired, but all the stress of getting to this point has lifted and I'm stood up straight again, have colour in my cheeks again - have inspiration and motivation again.

 

Life looks bright.

 

Snow and Blinking Boilers

Like tiny airborne ballerinas,
Snowflakes flit and flutter through sunbeams.
The Earth holds its breath.

 

It's snowing!

This may not seem exciting to everyone, but I live in a part of the world where it doesn't snow often. In the six winters we've had in this building, only one other year did snow settle - and then it was only a dusting.

This morning, I woke up to the most snow I've seen since I left uni.

I was working from home today, and the flat was cold (more on that in a bit), so the Cat did the sensible thing and sat on the radiator to watch the snowfall.

A few dustings in the morning, then in the afternoon it really started to come down, distracting me from my work to take a photo.

I've never seen the gravel covered before, so was very excited. By the time I'd finished for the day, it was even deeper!

 

 

 

I wasn't working from home out of fear of the snow, but because I felt icky yesterday and went home early - to find our boiler had gone out. It was showing a fault code Google revealed to be an ignition fault. I phoned out a plumber (relieved I'd come home early and this wasn't an out-of-hours call), and it turned out to be that the condensate pipe had frozen. He defrosted it using our kettle and said they could come out and fit a larger condensate pipe... I wrinkled my nose, and explained we should be moving soon but our buyers had messed us around and knocked a load of money of the price because they know we've found a place we love and are under pressure to get in there. So we're a bit too skint to be paying for work that isn't urgent. He understood, and said it sound like exactly the sort of thing that could end up their problem (I don't feel too guilty leaving it for them: for one, they really have messed us around and made me very ill in the process; for two, this is the first time we've had a problem in the years we've lived here).

 

I liked the plumber, because as soon as Cat came over he reached down to scritch her ears, and when he restarted the boiler he said it might have been damaged by the ice - but it made a few clunking, whirring noises that I said sounded promising, and he agreed, and Cat mewed so he asked her what she thought.

 

Woke this morning, and the boiler had gone out again and it was very cold. A different error code flashed, but I'd noticed the day before it was also an ignition fault so I assumed it was the same thing. A couple of kettles and a reset later, and the boiler kicked into gear in time for him to have a shower. I've run hot water over the pipe every couple of hours (and only fallen over once), and Husbit bought some insulation for the pipe, so hopefully we'll be ok overnight...

 

Had to clear Cat's litter tray, so stamped out to the bins and carefully stepped back in my bootprints because it amuses me to image someone seeing and being confused. Then I jumped from a patch of gravel sheltered by the house and back, to leave good, solid prints. That was fun too.

 

And now it sounds like it's raining, so there may not be any snow left in the morning. It's been nice to enjoy it while it lasted.

Show, Don't Tell

When it comes to writing, one of the things I find most difficult is giving information through natural description and action rather than clunky exposition, so thought I'd share my day to try to practice this. Oh, and there is talk of blood and needles, so if that is something you struggle with but you still want to read, stop reading after I get the cat home.

***     *****     ***

***     *****     ***

There was a fox in the front garden when I left my Dad's this morning. I pointed it out to my stepmother.

"It must be for Kieran," she told me. My sister had said her husband would arrive sometime this evening, but I wasn't sure why a fox would be coming to see him.She'd misheard me, thought I'd said 'box'.

He - the fox - visits them often and looked up at me as I passed. I crouched down and extended a hand, though he was too far away to sniff it and seemed disinclined to approach. Healthy looking, he was remarkably calm, not flinching as I moved closer on my way to my car.*

The ride home was lonely, and reaching my flat was worse: no kitty to greet me, and, strangely worse, no litter tray, no food bowls, no toys. Set up my work's laptop, to be greeted with the same frustrating messages as the last time I tried to connect remotely. Tried the fixes we'd suspected last time, to no avail. The IT support department in my company is not great, but the individual support guys in my building as fantastic and tried something else out, but that didn't work either.

The Freeholder's surveyor arrived**. I hovered, nervously, then left him to take measurements. Returned to my laptop. Tried more fixes: still no joy. Still no return call from the IT guys, so popped a quick email with some of my findings and got an email back: he was on a conference call and suspected I needed different software. Could I pop into the office today? Turns out, the software download would take half a day, and I had a blood test shortly so wouldn't have time. Grr.

Went to pick up Cat. She was very pleased to see me, let me pick her up and even leaned into me when I did so! Demanded my sister pet her.

My sister does not like cats at the moment. One of the tests they do when you're pregnant in China (and foreign and paying) that they don't do in Britain is for "that cat parasite" (Toxoplasma gondii). They don't do it in Britain because it gives a false positive about a third of the time, so my sister wasn't too worried at the first result. When the second test came back, she was less happy. The test can pinpoint when you were infected by looking at your IgG levels, which is very cool, so we know my cat's not to blame. And anyway, my sister says, Kitty is more like a dog than a cat. She petted her. Cat calmed. She washed her hands and returned. Cat wanted more petting. She refused.

Even my Dad likes Cat, and he hates cats. She ignored him the first few times they met, but when he was ready to be introduced she came running straight away. She knows how to charm people.

When I dropped her off, she jumped on the utility room work surface and gave her pathetic mew to my stepmum, stood nearest. I said she wanted to be petted, and my stepmum said she (stepmum) would pet her (Cat) once she (Cat) was comfortable but that she'd run away if she (stepmum) tried now - and put her hand out to demonstrate. I smiled as Kitty rubbed her face all over the hand.

The second ride home was less lonely. I had a few scrapes on my wrist where she'd reached for me every time I changed gear or touched the handbrake on our way over, and she was worse on the way back. Whenever I was stopped in traffic, I rested my fingers inside the fretwork of her carry-case door. The first time, she was so desperate to be petted she clawed the back of my hand trying to draw it closer. I snatched it away, and she was more careful after that, but every time if I couldn't feel her breath it was because her fur was pressed against my fingers.

She was delighted to be home, less pleased when I raced straight out for my blood test. 

The nurse greeted me and smiled when she knew I was ok after I, clumsy as ever, attempted to trip myself up as I stood from the plastic waiting room seat. Led me through to her room and explained it was only the coeliac's test they needed to redo, because the lab hadn't done it (which was reassuring, because part of me was worrying that this time they'd managed to find something wrong in that battery of blood tests). A slight scratch - a stronger scratch than most blood tests, but her cheerful demeanour more than compensated for the blood that didn't make it into the needle - and I was done.

I walked home with a pleasant endorphin buzz that led me through the graveyard instead of round it. The cherry blossom was beautiful and I went to take a photo before remembering I have loads of photos looking up at cherry blossom. Could I get a photo looking down? Sadly, neither of the neighbouring trees had limbs in reach for me to climb, so I abandonned the idea and went home: probably for the best, as my lunch hour had been rather a lot longer.

I might not have been able to work on what I'd been intending, but I was determined to do something so Cat spent the afternoon helping me type, from memory, a guide for one bit of software I'm working on. It's full of mistakes and needs screenshots, but it's something that had been put off for lack of time so I don't feel completely useless. I was surprised when Husbit phoned to see if I'd picked up bread - partly because I hadn't noticed we needed any, but mostly because I hadn't realised it was nearly time to finish for the day. 

After dinner, walked over to Bells's to give him a key - he's Cat-sitting next time we're away. You'll know him better as Adam/Hyperdrive or Aaron or Tanna and soon Kito.

Walking back, spotted a couple of guys lounging on grass. Had spotted them on the way over, too, and was half expecting some comment this time - they looked the type, but they stayed quiet. I never know whether to smile when people are sat there looking through you. I smile at most people, so I gave a half smile neither of them saw, but which in my mind was mysterious and would leave them thinking I know something they don't.

Which is probably true. I know the square root of 169 and that 170 doesn't have a rational route and what rational means when applied to numbers. I know Juliet doesn't wonder where Romeo is, but rather why he has to be one of her family's sworn enemies just because of his name: I know Shakespeare should be lived and performed, not studied as a dead text, which is a better knowledge. And I know people love me and care for me, which is the best knowledge of all.

*I saw a fox once as I cycled to work. It was trotting along the pavement, half a chicken carcass in its mouth, and no one else batted an eyelid. It even paused to wait for a car to pull out of a driveway, then carried on as if humans and foxes had always lived a convivial shared existance. I wondered if this was a fox with such a high bluff skill he'd tricked the other humans into thinking he was one of us, but I'd fluked my sense motive.

**I probably didn't need to de-cat the flat: they're a contractor, not the Freeholder themselves, and I'm sort of allowed a cat. It's like this: the Lease says I need Freehold consent for a pet, but they can't unreasonably withhold that consent. The people we bought the flat from took it from someone else who'd applied for that consent, and decided to assume they'd bought the consent along with the Lease, and we made the same cheeky decision because most Freeholders don't mind. Only since then we applied for consent for alterations that also can't be unreasonably withheld and, turns out, the Freeholder's interpretation of 'reasonable' isn't the same as mine, nor (from talking to a friend who's a legal secretary dealing with such things) the legal definition. When I challenged them, the response was "take us to Court and prove it," which we couldn't afford to do and they knew it.