Still light headed
Aug. 27th, 2014 06:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sollersThe first weekend of freedom was splendid. I'd got the day of the Manchester Pride parade wrong; it was Saturday, so I went in and thoroughly enjoyed myself. This also meant that I could go out to Saddleworth on Sunday for the rushcart, or rather the latter part of the celebrations: good dancing to watch, and I bought an excellent book on Lancashire Pace Egg plays.
Weather on Monday was predictably awful (the BBC weather forecasters commented on the fact that the only area with decent weather was Scotland, which didn't have a Bank Holiday) so I didn't go out except shopping; food is a lot easier to organise now, bearing in mind this week that I shan't be cooking on Thursday as I am having lunch in Manchester and going out to Glossop on the Folk Train in the evening. They have a splendid system: they have an arrangement with a local takeaway, so take orders on the train, phone them in and the food is delivered half way through the evening.
The other thing I did was pack up my work computer equipment for return. It was collected yesterday, with a bit of a glitch; the White Van Man who had been sent from Leeds to take it back to Leeds had been told two boxes, and I had been sent three boxes. To get things sorted quickly I wedged everything into two, and off it all went.
That left me with an odd, light-headed feeling: that definitely drew a line: I couldn't work now even if I wanted to. I can now de-work the study, and have a big desk available for other things (contrary to what my line manager originally thought, the desk and chair are mine, paid for by me, and there is a lot to be said for having a good desk and very good chair available).
The weather looks as if it should be decent today so we may take all the dogs for a decent walk. I have to go in to the library this morning and need to pick up some more purple hair dye, so I'm not actually planning to start the full new routine until Friday; however, I haven't been lounging around doing nothing, and have been getting in some tin whistle practice. I think I'm all the more inclined to do so because of the lovely letter the person who did the workshops handed out at the end:
"I sincerely thank you for attending the tin-whistle workshop.
It was of enormous help to me that you allowed yourself to be cajoled into playing to a standard that will allow you to progress further and (maybe) enhance the lives of those close to you, and maybe not so close.
Keep on playing for many years more and perhaps we'll meet again at Sidmouth or elsewhere.
The pleasure I got from the sessions was due to the effort you made to work hard and be happy."
He was an excellent teacher: from a standing start he got us from "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" to "Believe me, if all those endearing young charms" in five one-hour sessions... and in one case, working out how to play "For he's a jolly good fellow" and in the case of the rest of us, able to join in playing by ear at the end. He already had the letters printed out, but was visibly touched - both by the tribute and by the degree of skill we had reached.
Weather on Monday was predictably awful (the BBC weather forecasters commented on the fact that the only area with decent weather was Scotland, which didn't have a Bank Holiday) so I didn't go out except shopping; food is a lot easier to organise now, bearing in mind this week that I shan't be cooking on Thursday as I am having lunch in Manchester and going out to Glossop on the Folk Train in the evening. They have a splendid system: they have an arrangement with a local takeaway, so take orders on the train, phone them in and the food is delivered half way through the evening.
The other thing I did was pack up my work computer equipment for return. It was collected yesterday, with a bit of a glitch; the White Van Man who had been sent from Leeds to take it back to Leeds had been told two boxes, and I had been sent three boxes. To get things sorted quickly I wedged everything into two, and off it all went.
That left me with an odd, light-headed feeling: that definitely drew a line: I couldn't work now even if I wanted to. I can now de-work the study, and have a big desk available for other things (contrary to what my line manager originally thought, the desk and chair are mine, paid for by me, and there is a lot to be said for having a good desk and very good chair available).
The weather looks as if it should be decent today so we may take all the dogs for a decent walk. I have to go in to the library this morning and need to pick up some more purple hair dye, so I'm not actually planning to start the full new routine until Friday; however, I haven't been lounging around doing nothing, and have been getting in some tin whistle practice. I think I'm all the more inclined to do so because of the lovely letter the person who did the workshops handed out at the end:
"I sincerely thank you for attending the tin-whistle workshop.
It was of enormous help to me that you allowed yourself to be cajoled into playing to a standard that will allow you to progress further and (maybe) enhance the lives of those close to you, and maybe not so close.
Keep on playing for many years more and perhaps we'll meet again at Sidmouth or elsewhere.
The pleasure I got from the sessions was due to the effort you made to work hard and be happy."
He was an excellent teacher: from a standing start he got us from "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" to "Believe me, if all those endearing young charms" in five one-hour sessions... and in one case, working out how to play "For he's a jolly good fellow" and in the case of the rest of us, able to join in playing by ear at the end. He already had the letters printed out, but was visibly touched - both by the tribute and by the degree of skill we had reached.
no subject
Date: 2014-08-28 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-08-28 09:52 pm (UTC)