That is to say preparing the garden to receive the seeds for this year’s food crop. Hopefully it will be better than last year’s which was pretty much a washout. Today has been about putting some goodness back into the soil. I’ve also planted the first spud crop (assuming the frost doesn’t get them) it’s a beautiful day. The sun is high and I’m pleasantly tired.
Yesterday was a scuba day with the club giving up it’s time to support a local men’s emotional support group. The guys are always so lovely and so grateful to try something scary with people who are not going to judge them. They can be openly afraid and that is a huge thing for many men. Masculinity can be so very toxic. No stiff upper lip when you’re facing your fear.
There is a saying that you should do something that scares you every day. I’d say do something that challenges you instead. No point in being scared all the time. It’s challenging to pick cat poop out of the raised beds when I’ve spent years trying to chase them off from using those as a litter tray. It’s challenging to talk to a stranger who is about to put their life in your hands. It doesn’t always have to be jumping from an airplane scary!
Next week sees the transfer of seedlings to larger pots and the plants that can go outside being planted. It’s time to look forward again after a tough year. The cycle goes on.
I am now an official Scuba Lifesaver. Let me tell you it is not an easy course or exam. There’s a theory section (100% scored) and a practical section which includes a chunk on mouth to mouth and heart massage. Basic Life Support or BLS to its friends.
Another section is practical rescue skills in water. There’s an unconscious diver lift, tow and recus, an unconscious snorkeller rescue and three different swim scenarios. The tows are around 25 metres and the true nasty is treading water for two minutes whilst keeping the victims head out of the water…. That comes right at the end after all the rest.
The whole practical takes around an hour. You’ll sleep well after taking that I can tell you. Of course the joy is knowing those skills might save a life (although you hope not to use them ever) and for me knowing I am now able to teach these skills to others.
Last night was our usual pool night a week in from the test. We had three people there to try diving. The pure joy on their faces when they get out after an hour of gentle encouragement and they know they now have the superpower of breathing underwater. I’m hopeful we will see them again for full training with Mid Lancs SAC
The club are more than diving buddies and after ten years with them they are like family. Mid Lancs celebrates 20 years this year. What an amazing feat. It’s all about the volunteers who give their time to teach and support others. So many community groups exist purely on the goodwill of people who give their time and energy. It’s a fantastic thing. Here’s to 20 more years and I hope to celebrate with the club.
Not really but you get to a certain stage of life as a woman and your body starts attacking you. Here’s the deal. I need to do a bit more weight bearing exercise. Don’t get me wrong I lug a lot of scuba gear about but I need to focus on one or two areas that will make all the difference. Last week I met a personal trainer who is a third of my age and he chatted to me whilst making me work muscles on a series of machines in the gym. I limped home expecting to be really stiff the following day. I wasn’t. I did go out after my ‘work out’ and had a gentle walk and an art class. (That’s for another post). Sitting still would not have been a good move. I’m ok. A bit sore in a good way.
Looking around at the people in the gym I’m pleased to report that minus one or two young men who were training to preen most people there during the day are of a certain age and clearly there just to do themselves good. No lycra clad gym bunnies here.
I still think we should take notes from the Finnish. In their gyms there is no piped 80/90s dance tunes and people who want music to train too take their own. No earplugs needed. I think I’m Finnish at heart. Respectful quiet is the norm be it on the train or in a coffee shop. People can hear to talk to each other yet even their conversation is quiet. You can’t overhear unless you really try to. Privacy is a two way street. A woman in a cafe in Helsinki while I was there asked another customer to keep her dog quiet. On being told it was none of her business the woman replied “your dog is making it my business”. Mic drop. The dog was shushed.
I suppose this is a polite request for a quieter world. Don’t get me wrong I love concerts and loud music … When I choose to take part but your average gym is just that not a night club.
Two of my nieces and their parents (well, they are only 10 and 5 respectively) have just moved to Wales. The girls are settled in school and the family are enjoying their new life. One thing they have to consider is that the girls will have to learn Welsh as part of their schooling in order to get the best from life there. I think it’s great. Both parents have some Spanish, having lived there in their teens and now it’s time to see the other side where you are the parent in another country debating the need to learn the language.
As a wise old aunty I realise that teens love the idea of secrets from mum and dad. What better way to keep them than to speak a whole new language! Naturally there’s only one thing I can do.. I have to learn Welsh.
Now I’m not saying I’ll ever be fluent but hopefully I’ll know enough to scare the children into believing or worrying that I am. Lol (as the young people say).
I had a Welsh friend at uni many moons ago and started to learn then but you lose touch things drift and there’s no reason to remember so now I’ve gone back to a language app to try again. We went to a pantomime, starring one of the nieces and her mum, over the weekend and I found myself reading (badly) the Welsh language signs and leaflets. I even brought some home. I tried out a phrase or two on the staff and was thanked for my efforts. Apparently my accent is good.
It seems to me a matter of respect to learn something of a country’s language and culture before you go. Even if all you can say is “sorry I don’t speak the language” it shows you’ve made the effort. Trying to explain that Wales is its own country with separate laws and government within the UK is a tough concept for some people.
I’m not about to lecture anyone over their choices. Having a little Spanish when in Valencia a few weeks back made our lives easier (ironically so did having a little Dutch since they formed the bulk of tourists there). People open up to you and show a greater to help generally (I’m not sure Paris operates on the same rules) gets a smile and care in service. Now I’m not claiming to be any kind of linguist I’m just saying taking a little time and care to be decent to people makes a huge difference.
I’m going to continue with my Welsh lessons. You never know when it could save a niece from a terrible situation.
I’m off to Valencia. I’ve never been before and it’s 50 years at least since I was in Spain. The journey is part holiday and part Ingress Anomaly. Ingress is an Augmented Reality Game (ARG), which I’ve been playing for a number of years now and which I’m using as the basis for the ole’ PhD. One day (maybe two) will be battling for my team on the global battlefield, and the rest will be rest.
I wrote the message above before we left on the 30th October. We heard there had been heavy rain. People at the airport were happy enough but as our flight time approached there was increasing concern as I was seeing messages from friends already there that roads were closed and they were having to walk from the airport. The flight took off as planned but staff began talking about the metro system being totally closed … No taxis… City buses may or may not be running…
We arrived to find a queue for taxis which stretched back for hours (talking to people in the queue). Thankfully we snagged an Uber within minutes and made the city and our apartment just before 10 pm. Our hosts were very concerned and very confident that the trip we had planned by train out of the city was not going to happen. Local government information suggested we would be ok at that time.
Then we caught the news.
Waking up in a beautiful restored historical monument of a home in a city searching for it’s own was surreal. The historic centre of Valencia was totally dry and safe thanks to Franco having drained the river years before in case of just such an emergency. This was not something local people wanted to acknowledge had saved lives. We wandered the streets a little dazed. How do you act as a tourist when people are dying just a few miles away? What could we do? Of course the obvious thing was to leave and let the people get on with repairing their city. Naturally flights were booked up and also (naturally) the scalping had begun with one airline raising ticket prices over 500% How is there not international law against this?
We found there was no way out until our planned leaving date anyway and it wouldn’t be our planned route as 3 km of track had been washed away and train tunnels filled with rubble etc. We were not going that way. In fact we ended up flying into Mallorca and then home.
Unsurprisingly the events planned for the weekend had been cancelled. I was more than a little irritated by fellow players complaining about this because they wouldn’t get their badge! FFS! People have died here. That evening we called in to the meet up said our hello’s, ate, collected our game packs and left still wondering what we could do.
The answer turned out to be to donate to the food bank. We took a couple of bags of the things they had requested. It was little enough. This image is one of five collection points half an hour before it was supposed to open. I honestly don’t think it had closed for siesta. There was a lengthy queue of Valencians waiting to bus out as volunteers. The rules were : wear boots and bring a broom.
We saw quite a bit of the old city. The ceramic museum , S Joan and S Nicholas churches, the ancient city wall (part of which we were staying in). We spent a whole day at Oceanagrafic, the aquarium. We met new friends and found ourselves invited back when the city has recovered. The mayor is in trouble for a breach of his duty of care. The king was covered in mud from the clods thrown at him on his visit but we were invited back. We tried to be thoughtful and respectful. We asked after people their friends and family. They shared their stories and thanked us. Good luck Valencia.
Over the past few months my father has been unwell. Very unwell. I’ve been spending time hospital visiting g and caring for him alongside my mother and brother. He passed away a few weeks ago and I can now let you know.
I promise my next post will be normal service resumed. I have not forgotten the blog just taking care of business.
I’ve seen a lot of the M6 in the last few months. I’m still hospital visiting. Not only that but part if the family have now moved to Wales so that’s been the scene of one or two days lately too. Sunday was possibly the hottest day of the year and I found myself stuck in a traffic jam. A one hour journey took two hours. There was a air show. I didn’t know and wound up in the queue. Still I had my new best playlist to keep me company.
Does anyone else make playlists for specific purposes? For years I’ve curated lists for friends themed birthday parties (which reminds me there’s a baby shower soon I wonder if they need one?). I love making what are effectively musical mood boards. Give me an era or a topic or a state of mind I’ll match it to some tunes. I can go full classical to.pop and rock, folk to funk and everything in between. My love of obscure songs from niche genres takes me down many a rabbit hole. There’s a playlist on spotify called crate diggers which hales back to a time when we used to have actual physical objects to play our music from not this ethereal digital mess. We’ve lost so much. Yes, the crackle, hiss and annoying jump of scratched vinyl but also so many B sides and album tracks in a world where the greatest hits are on demand.
I still buy physical cds and vinyl where I can. I still own a cassette player too, not to mention the 78s (ask your gran). I’ve not yet found anything play a wax cylinder though but I’ve seen one in action. Which reminds me I need to add a Madness track to my motorway list… which is where I came in.
I’m incredibly lucky to have found scuba diving. I love it and it brings me so much joy to be able to share it with others. If you’d have told me this would become my main hobby I would’ve said you were mad. I’m terrified of drowning! What scuba allows is a level of calculated risk. The trick is to do the calculations and then stick by those calculations on your dive…. but I digress…
I’m a member of a BSAC club. Number 2405, Midlancs SAC. I’ve been an instructor for about 5 years now and it is always a pleasure to see a new diver’s face when they emerge from their first try dive. This weekend my club along with a partner club Just4FunDiving took our Easter Saturday to take a bunch of lovely blokes in for a try dive (and they got some resuscitation training too). The guys from Andy’s Man Club are all on their own journey and each came with their own story but those are not mine to share. Suffice to say that for some of them the idea of diving was both exciting and terrifying in equal measure. The pure joy on the faces of these guys when they realised what they had achieved was something I will remember for a long time. I spent an hour and a half underwater, 45 minutes each with two new divers. One of them was so excited he was even chatting under the water which is difficult with a regulator in your mouth, but he managed it! They all have a certificate for their day and a real sense of achievement. These were all guys who have realised that its not so macho to keep quiet and they’ve learned to work on their issues. We need more places like Andy’s Man Club, more “men’s sheds” just as much as we need more safe spaces for women. Tremendous day.
All the ‘staff’ on the day were volunteers from kit movers to instructors to bakers (there is always cake). Thank you to Northern Diver for the sponsorship and to Wigan Council for the use of the pool.
Many generations of guiding folkThere was cakeMum was first guide leader
I went to a party on Friday night for the 50th anniversary of a guide group starting. Someone described me as tne OG (original guide) since my mum started the whole thing 50 years ago.
Many of those who were guides or leaders came back to meet and greet and celebrate. There were photos and scrapbooks and camp blankets… all the good stuff. The new guides did a show for us with dancing and sketches too.
ffiftypluses 