Posts filed under 'Uncategorized'
Back in January, I was hunting around for a 5k race to run this spring, and there were none to be found in my neck of Scotland. But I really, really wanted to find a race to run in, so I started looking farther afield, and stumbled across the St. David’s Day 5k and 10k races in Cardiff, Wales. Hmmmm…Wales…I’d never been to Wales. A quick email to Xenia and she was all for the idea of a weekend in Cardiff, including the race. And so Theresa and Xenia’s Excellent Wales Adventure was on the calendar!
Friday, I caught the 2pm train down to London, and after a short ride on the Underground from Kings Cross to Paddington station and then a bit longer of a wait, I was on the train to Cardiff!
Once in Cardiff, I gave Xenia a call to let her know I’d arrived. It was about 10:30pm. It’s a LONG train ride from Edinburgh to Cardiff, but I blatantly ignored the opportunity to do work and instead spent the time reading Kushiel’s Dart, 
which is a LONG book. (I’d been working on it for a while, and finally finished it on the train ride back. A good, but EPIC story.) Xenia had a much shorter train ride, and had arrived earlier in the evening.
I initially started to walk to the B&B where we were staying (Beaufort Guesthouse, I would recommend it), but shortly realized that this was a stupid thing to do at this time of night in a strange city and caught a cab. And so, I arrived in Cardiff at the B&B after an uneventful day of traveling and a productive day of reading. Xenia didn’t want to come down to open the door for me — something about already being in her pajamas — but luckily, someone did come when I rang the front bell.
Saturday morning, after a yummy breakfast in a fancy, fancy dining room, Xenia and I were off to collect our rental car. 
The plan was that Xenia would drive and I would navigate. Unfortunately, navigation relies on other things than being able to read a map, namely adequate signage and maps that do not look like this. 
It also helps if all the roads are not mixtures of the letters A and B and numbers. In the end, it took us about an hour, and I swear we went around the same round-a-bout three times, but we did eventually make it out of Cardiff and on to our first destination: Caerleon!
Caerleon was the site of a Roman Legionary Fortress. It is also believed by some to be the location of King Arthur’s Camelot. Sadly, there were no legionares or knights left roaming around, only the remains of a Roman bath, soldier barracks, and a Roman amphitheatre. Admittedly, these were pretty cool. If ever given the chance, I do recommend seeing historical Roman sites with Xenia. Being an archeologist of Roman stuff, it’s like having your own personal tour guide!
After exploring the amphitheatre (to the soundtrack of some seriously disturbed cows from the farm right next door) it was off to our next sight: Raglan Castle!
Raglan Castle was just amazing! It’s in ruins, but there is enough there to get a feel for what it must have been like once upon a time. The atmosphere sparked a sense of romance and adventure, and Xenia and I spent maybe a couple hours exploring.
After Raglan Castle, our plan was to find something to eat in Monmouth (which I still can’t say properly, for some reason). And while there were plenty of places to eat in Monmouth, there was a dearth of places to park, so we decided to continue on to Tintern Abbey, and munch on our provisions once there. (I always travel with food.)
Like Raglan, Tintern Abbey is in ruins now, but still an amazing sight. Whereas Raglan Castle sparked feelings of romance and adventure, Tintern Abbey evoked feelings of tranquility and reverence. I could have just sat and soaked up the quiet there for hours I think. What it must have been like way back when!
By now it was about 3:30 in the afternoon, and we had seen our fill. Xenia and I were both ready to head back to Cardiff. It was an uneventful drive back with no episodes of misdirection (yay!). We dropped off the car, then droped off our stuff, and went in search of an early dinner. This involved passing by Cardiff Castle, 
which was protected by many fierce beasts, 
as well as a few not so fierce beasts. 
Walking back after dinner, Xenia was tempted to hurdle the baracades and make a dash for the still open doors to the castle, but we worried about the time it would take to transfer the bail money to pounds sterling.
Sunday was race day! With the 5k race not starting until 10:30, it was a leisurely morning. It turned out to be an almost perfect day for a race, with temperatures around 50 F. The race was held in Bute Park, which is basically the grounds of Cardiff Castle.
I ran the race in 37:12 minutes, according to my watch, which I was quite pleased with. (You can read Xenia’s race report here. I still need to write mine.) After the 5k race,
I hurried back to the B&B for a quick shower. (I asked for a late checkout, because an 8+ hour train ride back to Edinburgh without a shower, eeeew. No time to fix my hair though, so had weird curls going on for the rest of the day.) Xenia stayed so that she could run the 10k race as well. Go Xenia!
After a quick trip back to the B&B to get our stuff, it was time to head in the general direction of the train station, via Bute Park, and a quick stop for lunch. Unfortunately, our walk to the train station was a bit too leisurely, and we ended up having to sprint at the end to catch our train! (Not fair, we’d already done our running that day!)
There was one worrying train delay on the way from Cardiff to London, but thankfully I’d left enough leeway in the schedule that I was still able to make my London train back to Edinburgh. Xenia had switched trains at Didcot Parkway, and was home before dinner. For me, it was a late night, and I wasn’t pleased by the delay when a couple of taxi drivers started arguing and nearly came to fisticuffs. (Ok, maybe a slight exaggeration, but I’ve always wanted to use that word.) Eventually, around midnight, I finally got home.
And that’s the end of our Wales adventure. It was a terrific weekend and great to see Xenia again!!
March 5th, 2009
As we grow up, we all hear ideas (or truths) from our parents, friends, and teachers. I think that when we are told something by a trusted source, we take it to heart and keep it close as part of our internal security blanket. Many times we find ourselves unwilling to let it go even when confronted by evidence to the contrary because it is part of our internal security, even if not letting go prevents us from moving forward. Intrenched beliefs can keep us from trying new things, spreading our wings, or growing as a person.
For instance, I was convinced that I could not deal with computers on any level. I learned how to type on a manual typewriter in high school. When computers first came out, they were not user friendly, and seemed incredibly complicated to me*. I had a friend at the time who worked at Hewlett Packard, and she was a very analytical personality. She tried her best to explain computers to me, but I simply could not comprehend. She told me* that she felt that I was not going to be able to to learn how to operate a PC, or become proficient with one. To be fair, she had good reason to say that at the time. It soon became obvious I would have to learn to operate a PC as all the companies were becoming computerized, and I needed to work (not being independently wealthy – which is massively annoying, BTW!).
My breakthrough came when I found out that no matter what I did, I couldn’t break the computer. Mess it up so that someone had to be called to put it right, but not break it. That started my thorough exploration of software, and lots of training later, I’m a Systems Analyst. Go figure…
What truth were you told that kept you from moving forward, and how did you get beyond it?
February 23rd, 2009
Just to tide you over before CC posts…
McB and Wapak 
The excuse we had for getting together in Dayton
– the three Goddesses at the table.
The round from G-G at The Cheesecake Factory
The Whack after the cilantro and margaritas 
And Wapak’s favourite bar where I got my fix. Check out the incredible wood work. 
How we wish you all had been there. The next North American Whack should be Louis’ porch. What do you think?
February 18th, 2009
I’m plodding through a book that is touted as the sequel to a “beloved” book. The only reason I continue to give this tome any of my attention is the need, as a writer, to understand what it is that appeals to people. A friend of mine suggested she read it as she won’t know what’s wrong with it (POV shifts, too much showing not enough telling, cliches all over the darn place) and will therefore enjoy it.
There may be some truth to that assessment but it doesn’t account for all of it. Some of you aren’t writers yet recognize those flaws. Yet there are several books in which we forgive all the faulty writing. So I ask you Great Readers all, what keeps you reading regardless of things that make a book an automatic wallbanger under different circumstances.
Is it plot? Character? Dialogue? A combination of factors?
BCB and I thank you.
February 11th, 2009
Yes, I know, it’s an odd title for a post, but let me explain. Have you ever been reading a post, comment, or review about a book and someone describes a character, in particular, the heroine as a dishrag. And then perhaps you thought: Huh, I rather liked that character. She seemed realistic. She reminded me* of…me*.
Well I have. And yes, I have a sneaky suspicion that if I were the heroine of a romance novel, I would indeed be a bit of a dishrag.
Truthfully, I like reading about all kinds of characters. I like the kick-ass, take-no-prisoners heroines, like Eve Dallas in Robert’s In Death series. I like the heroines who are confident and worldly. I like heroines who are quiet, but strong. But a heroine doesn’t have to be kick-ass, strong, or confident for me to like her. I just have to believe she is real within the world that she was created. And this includes those dishrag heroines. We dishrags deserve our happily ever after too!
Are there any types of heroines or heroes that you particularly like or dislike? What about particular types or even specific heroines/heroes that you relate to very strongly?
February 5th, 2009
Ok, I’m pretty sure Dr.T isn’t up till next Wed, but apologies if someone was supposed to go in between.
1. I’m moving up my plea so people can see it: “Can everyone in their next comment put down their b-day? I’ll put it together in a list. (No, no, not the yr, unless you want for people to say “happy 50th!”, just the month and day). Or just email me*”
2. And just so you see it, Wapa wrote: “Anyone that wants me to buy a book and have the lovely ladies sign it please email or report in here. I’ll send it to you. I think I have all the addresses but will confirm with OH” (She also answered a car question)
3. Not that this group needs a topic (I’m still very proud of the level of comments we got to on Bob’s blank post, go us), but I’m kind of curious: How did you find your favorite authors? Not necessarily Crusie & Mayer (though did anybody know Mayer before Crusie?), but any of them.
January 29th, 2009
Something to think about… rules. Why they exist – how they either ease (or not) our lives… hummm…
January 20th, 2009
I’ve been sorting through old paperwork and finding some interesting stuff. If only I could bear to part with some books my house would be significantly less cluttered. Soulless but neat. I value a great many things that prevent my house from being featured in a magazine. But I keep thinking that if I could only keep one thing and all of my animals were a given, then I’d take my great Grandpa’s trunk.
It is amazing to me*, the woman who had to build an extra room in her attic to hold all her crafts and stuff, that Grandpa Fenton loaded all of his worldly possessions into this trunk. Then he boarded a boat and set sail from Scotland to emigrate to Canada.
As a young girl I used to sit at his feet and listen to his stories. I don’t remember much of what he said. I remember his voice. That Scottish brogue. The way he looked at Grandma. The taste of the butterscotch candies that sat in the wooden candy dish on the sideboard. The same sideboard that is in my kitchen. A few of Grandma’s cups and saucers are in there now. I love the memories from that sideboard but its voice isn’t as compelling as the trunk’s.
The trunk has a deep storage compartment. Wool and stuffing surround Christmas balls. A tray rests on top of four metal hinges. My beads fill the tray. Less than half of my crafts in a container that started my Grandpa’s new life – on the other side of the world. It boggles my mind.
I can’t imagine leaving my family, and all that is familiar, behind. At the very least I’d take a U-Haul. My hat’s off to Christina and Theresa for exhibiting that sense of adventure.
I also have an old hatbox from Grandpa’s attic. It houses manuscripts. And is darn heavy thanks to all that paper. But the trunk is my most prized possession. It’s full of adventure, hope, excitement and the sense that “a change is as good as a rest.”
I don’t need to remember what it was that brought about that change. I remember the man who sat in his living room sixty years later, happy with all that change had brought him. He took risks to improve his lot in life. Had a good career. Married a lovely woman. Lived to see his grandchildren have families of their own.
Do you have anything in your home that speaks to you as The Trunk speaks to me*?
January 14th, 2009
It remains to be seen whether this will be a good idea or not.
I think you can click on the puzzle and bring it up larger in a seperate window. As answers are provided, I’ll add them along side the clues. I don’t think any of this will be too hard, but I can put up a partially solved puzzle at stages if needed.
Here goes nothing.
Across
3. a gathering of CBs
4. Nero’s heiress apparent
5. A favorite super hero (2 words)
8. If the question can be argued, it’s …
11. Ms. Lake’s namesake on four paws
12. a drink for all seasons
14. a unique lethal weapon
16. A shade of pink
17. A favorite CB mode of transp, especially to Hawaii
20. He wrote Lost Girls under this pen name
22. They walked the terrain here with Wild Ride in mind
23. a herd of weather
24. It was summer in the PNW for this event
25. One of the few things GP and McB don’t have in common
Down
1. a food group all to itself
2. Our favorite Factory
6. what the chicken gets soused with
7. lost in the hotel fire (2 words)
9. Her
10. Him and Her met Here
13. She and 4 Across were a team in BOL
14. You could say it’s PRE-vaulting
15. What we like our men in
16. Shane’s buddy
18. Let’s shelve this topic, hmmm?
19. Him
20. Where we attacked first
21. Min’s engagement ring
January 13th, 2009
I’m experimenting for the first time in my life with keeping a journal. It’s mostly a mental health journal — a place to write down all my worries and fears and other insane thoughts that travel around in my head.
At first, I was really worried that I would absolutely hate it. Writing, well, it’s not my favorite thing, and I was worried that it would be really difficult to make myself put things on the page. Typically, writing is just agonizing. But I’m finding that it’s really ok. It doesn’t really matter what I write. No one’s going to read it or judge me on it, unlike the stuff I’m required to write for work.
I’m also finding it really useful as a means of getting the thoughts out of my head. Otherwise, they tend to wallow around there, helping me to fixate and worry. It remains to be seen whether in the long term journaling will help me to keep things in perspective and better achieve my goals, but I’m hopeful. If nothing else, it’s much cheaper than a therapist.
So have you ever kept a diary or a journal? Why or why not? Was it about anything in particular? Was it theraputic? Was it easy or hard to write down your thoughts? How long did you keep it going?
Inquiring minds, ok, my mind wants to know.
January 8th, 2009
Next Posts
Previous Posts
which is a LONG book. (I’d been working on it for a while, and finally finished it on the train ride back. A good, but EPIC story.) Xenia had a much shorter train ride, and had arrived earlier in the evening.
as well as a few not so fierce beasts. 
Walking back after dinner, Xenia was tempted to hurdle the baracades and make a dash for the still open doors to the castle, but we worried about the time it would take to transfer the bail money to pounds sterling.