The physics of poo

I love living in Brighton. Moving here was far and away the best decision hub and I made. I love the big bright buildings, I love the people and all their groovy ways, and I love the sea.

What I do not love, are the seagulls.

And more specifically, their poo.

My poor little car takes a battering every night, and some mornings it is tricky to see through the windscreen.

This morning I was awoken blearily at silly o'clock by the sound of something hitting our bedroom window. In my sleepy imaginings I conjured a tom cat weeing very hard at my window, or perhaps weeing not so hard in my garden, then scattering soil with its toilety diggings.

Later investigation revealed that the same fate as daily befalls my little car had also befallen the bedroom window.

Which I was totally confused by because we live in a basement flat.

Which made me wonder exactly where the seagull was. At the time of contact.

And frankly, thank god that hub 1) understands physics and 2) is a more than capable Microsoft paint artiste, otherwise I never would have understood.

Vlex

So I've been doing this project at school.

The brief was to create a new word, a verb, to describe what is unique about what young people do today.

I've been working on it all year.

And one of the reasons I've been so quiet in the past couple of weeks is because I've been up to ears working on the final show for this project.

Which was yesterday.

And was ace.

(Which I was VERY relieved about.)

Anyway.

As part of the project, I asked some lovely independent producers to work with the kids to make a small animation which demonstrated the concept of the word.

I thought you might like to see it (because I think it's completely brill.)

So here it is.



Vlex:
To express control in a virtual world.

Like what I'm doing now, innit.

PS. For the actual thing, we made a pinata of that monster. Then totally bashed it to pieces. Yes we did.

Difficulty

I struggle with anxiety.

It's just a thing, a thing I have tried in the past and try every day really, to deal with.

And most often, I manage it. And all is well.

But sometimes, I feel a bit overwhelmed. Sometimes, life seems a bit terrible and bleak and I don't believe in my own ability to get through the day.

Sometimes.

Sometimes, it all gets a bit much.

And when it gets a bit much, I become a bit much.

Expressions of emotion become a bit, well, overdramatic. I state things in extremes. Because things feel extreme.

And this can make me a bit difficult to deal with. The extremity, the drama, the overwhelming feeling of it all.

I understand that at these times I can be difficult.

But it is also at these times that I need the most support, the most encouragement, the most positive feedback (and yes, I know, it would be much more useful if I were able to provide myself with with such things. And I am trying to head in that direction, really I am).

And sometimes, sometimes, the being difficult gets in the way of this.

And then things go topsy-turvy.

I'm just wondering how I can put them the right way round again.

Ginkgo Biloba "Troll"

Here is our special tree. We had a lovely time peacefully wandering around a brilliant nursery we found, and finally chose this. To stay with us always, for us to care for and to mark the memory of a special little bean.

"A lovely and very rare form of Ginkgo with compact, bushy growth. Ideal as a container plant on the patio where after several years it will form a stunning leafy tree that is not too large. Ideal if you would like a ginkgo, but do not have very much space - and much better behaved than a real troll as well!"

Your invisible friend.

I lurve Google Reader. It is a brilliant invention which delivers all of your glorious words in one neat package, just ready and waiting for me to gobble them all up.

AND it gets through the school firewall, so I can sneak a peak even while I'm at work.

BUT.

It does mean that my commenting rate, my ability to exchange thoughts and ideas, offer support, celebration or commiseration is somewhat reduced.

Which is annoying.

But I just want you to know that I am still reading.

And appreciating. 

Even if you can't always see me.

thankyouverymuch

Morning.

I am lucky with my job. I have a certain amount of hours each week that I must work, but I can organise when I work them. No getting in late and meting disapproving glances for me. Lots of relaxed mornings.

It is good.

And since I am not exactly what you would call a morning person, this set up would seem to be ideal.

If it weren't for two things:

At some hour, unpredictable, but in the main between 3am and 6am, the weird cat gets up. This obviously involves scratching vigorously at my chest of drawers and the carpet, and then leaping with all the grace of a tiny elephant to land on my tummy. For it is breakfast time. Obviously.

Over the past few weeks we have been developing a technique known as "Secret Breakfast". This involves one of us bringing the cat to bed the night before and shutting the door, then the other putting her breakfast into her bowl ready for the morning and coughing loudly (it is a small flat).

Sometimes this works, and I can sleep, all the way through until 7am.

When the alarm goes off.

Hub leaves for work at half past eight, but has an extremely clever system which involves the alarm on his phone going off a gazillion years earlier, and then hitting snooze a gazillion times until he gets up a gazillion years later.

Seriously.

I feel like I haven't slept for weeks.

And I am no Margaret Thatcher. (In so many ways).

I need to develop a technique for him.

I think I will call it "Secret Mallet".

For the phone you understand.