…Said that bloke who said that he might be some time, opening the tent flap and greeting his fellow polar explorers who, presuming the bloke had been made comprehensively dead by the killer snow outside, had started to eat his ration of biscuits. They quickly looked at each other, tried to pull faces that suggested that under their balaclavas they had the moustaches of mysterious and polite but possibly threatening strangers and said to the colleague attempting to re-enter the little fabric shelter “No we is sorry there mate I think you will find you are have the wrong tent? OK no problem thank you have a nice day bye!”
“Really?” He said.
“Oh yes for definite this is totally a different tent to the one you are looking for. Whichever one that is.”, they confirmed.
“Oh. Oh ok. Thanks then. Ta ra.” And backed out of the tent, into the howling icy wind, never to be seen again.
Is how I think that story goes. People pretend it doesn’t, in order to preserve the dignity of the explorer classes, but let’s face it, all’s fair in death and biscuits. It is such stories of stoic barbarism in the face of baked goods that we should remember when the weather reaches extremes of coldness.
It is very cold. Not “very cold” in the universal scheme of things. Space is very cold. Siberia is very cold. Most freezers are very cold (although not my freezer, but that is because the seal is rubbish and it keeps swinging open, though I really don’t want that one case to undermine my point).
The UK at this time of year is ‘not cold’, in comparison to those other cold things, and ‘quite cold’, in comparison to how it is the rest of the year, and ‘very cold’, in comparison to, say, the sahara.
The Sahara during the day, that is. The Sahara at night is actually pretty cold.
I should have picked a different example of ‘hot’, really.
Anyway: given how the British react to it – and in particular the British public transportation companies – you would imagine that this was, in fact, the coldest place on earth. Instead, it is just ‘a bit cold’.
The main way I know this is because it has been snowing all day, but no polar bears have so far wandered past my window. You can only imagine how disappointed I am by this fact. I am also considering that maybe, just maybe, we should hang the expense and actually buy something other than a lightweight summer duvet. Or at least I *think* that’s what we have under those half-dozen throws.
Basically: weather. What else to we British people talk about when we want to open a conversation and have no idea what else to say?
What else has been going on? Well, for me: mainly, working (and also spending a considerable amount of time chasing work, like a moth chasing a thing that moths chase – not a flame, because that would mean that I was chasing a job that was eventually going to kill me by setting my tiny hairy body on fire, wings first, and frankly that’s not a job I’m looking for – chasing something moths like that isn’t a flame. Moth-treats. Mothbars. Mothdrops. That kind of thing), looking after a baby, and, apparently, eating in my sleep, because I suddenly discover I’ve exploded out of all my clothes again and need to do something about it. STAT.
I like saying ‘stat’. Sometimes I consider retraining as an emergency room surgeon, just so I can say ‘stat’ in a proper context. Then again, that would distract from my idea of retraining as a lawyer (in New York), in the belief that having seen every single episode ever made of Law & Order, I could basically pass The Bar right now without even trying.
Anyway. So I’m now doing all manner of exercise, and the worky things, and the baby things.
Doozer is fine. I don’t talk about him much here because I’ve never quite worked out how to handle the public/private balance of that. I save most of my writing about him for emails sent to him, to an account I opened before his birth. I’ll give them to him one day – or the password to the account – but whether he’ll care about them when I do, I have no idea. I like to tell him about the things he’s doing, liking, trying to achieve as they’re happening, whether they have any lasting value as pieces of writing or not. It feels as real and happy and easily communicative to me as blogging always did.
I’d like to find a way to talk about him in public that didn’t feel too intrusive, though. Or to talk about motherhood, which is lots of things, and none of the things I was expecting, all at once.
I always feel aware that it is a life experience that people moan about having to read about on blogs, facebook accounts, twitter etc – mommy-blogs are shunned, ‘shut up about your baby’ threads run rife on facebook, and frankly, I don’t want to add to that. BUT but but but. It is just a life experience, like any other. And I have to sit and watch everyone’s HILARIOUS pictures of their drunken weekend shenanigans flittering through my filters and if that’s allowed, then why not talk about the life experience that may end up being one of the biggest of my life? And certainly the thing that takes up most of my time, at the moment?
Maybe. Maybe I find a way. A nice, non-intrusive, fair-to-him way. We will see. We will see. I really miss blogging.
I miss rambling in an open wordpress window, let’s face it. I honestly should just do it more often for the sake of keeping my fingers warm.
ANYWAY. There we are:
a) it is cold
b) but not that cold
3) I have been eating too many mothdrops, but at least have some work coming out of it.
iv) And a new diet and exercise regime, which I am loving JUST as much as the last diet and exercise regime (and the one before that, and the one before that, and the one before the one before the one before).
e) Everything is lovely.
Everything is always lovely. Even if you don’t have any polar bears wandering past your window. And perhaps even BECAUSE you don’t.
How are you?