Amongst the items nestled in my suitcase that you’d expect to be taking for a city wedding taking place in the middle of winter (nice dress, legwarmers, thermal longjohns, boots) there are some you wouldn’t: specifically a large jar of Branston pickle, a copy of The Times and a bag of Sainsbury’s no added sugar fruit and nut muesli. We’re renting out the apartment of a guy in Munich via Air BnB and on hearing we were coming from the UK, he asked if we could bring some items over. I’m a little unsure about whether Branston pickle is classified as a liquid or a solid when it comes to flying regulations, and a poll in the office and a call out on Twitter didn’t yield any definitive information either. Since we’re only taking hand luggage I sincerely hope it’s considered the latter, otherwise it’s going to be quite embarrassing to have a condiment confiscated at 5am.

I also have answer sheets and questions for our pub quiz contribution to the reception. We had a lot of fun one Friday a couple of weeks ago, setting the questions while drinking Prosecco to get us in the wedding mood. German people’s language skills continue to amaze me – the whole quiz is going to be in English, and it not being in English was never even an option. We have made sure it’s German-focussed, however, so there are  questions relating to Sissi and Ludwig II and Karl May. And beer, naturally.

Since we’re so close to the border with Austria and S still hasn’t been there, we’re  also going to take the train to Salzburg on Sunday. I visited back in 2010 and so have made all The Sound of Music references already, but I am excited about eating more topfenstrudel and chocolate & jam pretzels.

If you happen to be up around 5am tomorrow, spare a thought for us weary travellers, fuelled only by coffee and the adrenaline rush from attempting to smuggle pickle across international borders.

You don’t expect your teachers to die. When you leave school, it’s as if they’re frozen at the point you last saw them, and it’s easy to forget that time is passing for them as much as it is for us. I went back for my ten year reunion in 2010 and aside from the shock of seeing that half my male classmates are now balding, it was the aging of the teachers that really hit me.

Mr P (he had a very distinctive surname so I won’t write it in full) was one of those teachers who always stood out. Larger than life, life and soul of the party, all those clichés. He taught theology and philosophy, which I took for both GCSE and A Level, and it’s proof of his great teaching that I not only got my best grade in this subject but also even thoroughly enjoyed the two A Level modules we had to do on the Old Testament. (Even now I can talk about the split between the Northern and Southern kingdoms of Israel, the E, J, P and D strands in the Bible, and the fact that there are two creation stories in Genesis that are spliced messily together.)

He was also my personal tutor for Sixth Form so we’d meet up twice a term, he and the four of his tutees (which included best friend Z), and we’d head out for tea and cake in town, ostensibly to chat about how things were going for us with essays and UCAS and work, but also to share gossip about the rest of the Sixth Form and the teachers.

Mr P accompanied six of us on a memorable trip to Durham University for a Sixth Form debating competition. Durham was his alma mater and also full of former students from our school. In the evening he took us out nightclubbing, despite all of us being underage and despite the uneasiness of the other teacher who was trying to curb Mr P’s exuberance at being back in his university city. He ended up four sheets to the wind and at the end of the night, started throwing stones at a former student’s window, before running off and leaving three of us – all girls – to find our way back to our bed and breakfast in an unfamiliar city. It’s a testament to Mr P’s charm that when I recounted this story to my parents, they just laughed.

After our final Sixth Form ball, about five of us went back to his house and watched Ally McBeal – Mr P was a big Calista Flockhart fan and the new series had started that night. I was supposed to stay with Z that night but it was about 6am when we finally walked in her door, only to be greeted by her mother standing in the kitchen, ironing silently and furiously, demanding (in fierce whispers so as not to wake everyone else) to know where the hell we’d been and did we know what time it was and how worried she’d been? Again, it’s testament to Mr P’s character that she relaxed completely when we told her what had happened. When I tell this story to some people they raise their eyebrows but it was all very innocent. He was just a people person who enjoyed being the host.

The man had no sense of time – he refused to wear a watch, claiming “my time is my own”. Fair enough, but it meant he often turned up ten or fifteen minutes late for lessons. He came down for our reunion – but turned up three hours after it started and missed lunch! He was also incredibly disorganised and essays would come back weeks or months late. The fact the school made him Director of Studies and in charge of timetabling always seemed an odd appointment. When he got this role he moved into a new office which he painted completely pink – the school knew it as “Mr P’s pink parlour”. He even had some decanters in there. But all this was just part of his character and what made him so memorable.

The people reading this won’t know Mr P, and outside of the schools he taught in, his name won’t be widely known. But the effect he had on people was evident yesterday when everyone from my old school who’s on Facebook made a comment about how inspirational he was. To be remembered with such warmth and love is surely one of the best memorials anyone can hope for.  He made my school days, and clearly many other people’s, a lot richer and a lot more fun. He will be sorely missed.

Microchip-operated cat flaps are a genius invention.

The Night Circus is one of the most original books I’ve read in a long time and is giving me massive cravings for mulled cider and caramel popcorn.

Deciding what to wear for a wedding in potentially -5 temperatures is not easy. Thermal long johns with a fancy frock do not cut it.

Having lots of plans and events and lovely things in the diary is the best way to get through a cold drear January.

Trapeze and other aerial work is great: it allows me to keep fit and constantly pushes me to try new things and challenge myself. It’s also a lot of fun. What better way to de-stress than hang upside down by your ankles?

Blogs

I was never really aware of blogs until 2008, but now my Reader is stuffed full of brilliant writing and inspiration. I love how blogging brings people together, allows you a glimpse into the window of someone else’s life and provides the chance to make new friends, both on and off screen.

Coffee

Addicted since 1996.

Dancing

Whether in a formal class or just doing slightly (all right, highly) drunken synchronised kicks and flicks at a wedding, dancing makes me very happy. If I haven’t danced for a while, I get grumpy.

Exploring

Whether it’s this country or abroad, visiting new places is of my favourite things to do.

Friends

I have such a diverse bunch of friends and I’m so grateful for each and every one of them. It’s not always easy to keep in touch with people or to see them as much as I’d like to (especially when your best friends are currently in Germany and Australia, soon to be Nigeria and Australia) but I love how with true friends it doesn’t matter whether it’s been five minutes or five years since you last met up; the time falls away and you continue right where you left off.

Garden

As this was something I never thought I would be into, my interest in the garden has taken me by surprise. It’s not always easy and I’m mostly making it up as I go along, but the hard work and effort of maintaining it are paid off on those warm summer evenings when we eat dinner on the deck, surrounded by the smell of flowers.

Heat

I’m such a lizard when it comes to temperature and my hands and feet are always cold in winter. I also suffer from Raynaud’s in my fingers which means they can turn dead white when they get too cold, or I touch something like a refrigerated can, and then lose all feeling for ages. My new electric blanket has made the cold weather a lot more bearable, although getting out of bed is becoming harder!

iPod touch

I am not in any way a gadget person (case in point: my mobile phone is 6 years old and its fanciest feature is an FM radio), but I make an exception for my iPod touch. Music and the internet in one handy machine, brilliant.

Jokes

I blame my father, the pun-meister of Portsmouth, but I love cheesy jokes and puns. The more groan-worthy the better!

Kindness

I think this is one of the most important qualities someone can possess.  Conducting everyday business with kindness is a good way to live your life.

Learning

Apparently this is one of the five steps to happiness and I can see why. I get bored quite easily unless I’m learning new things and stretching myself. Learning goes alongside a lot of my other A-Zs  – aerial, exploring, reading – and is a big part of why they’re important to me. I’m not an academic genius by any stretch of the imagination but I love finding out new facts, learning about another country, trying a new skill or improving an existing one. (These also help my Q word!)

Music

My parents encouraged me to have piano and oboe lessons as well as to sing in choirs, which I’m very grateful for. I’m also lucky enough to have a piano of my own, and although I’m not as good as I want to or indeed should be after 12 years of lessons, it’s great to be able to create music whenever I want to. An aim for the year is to perfect Debussy’s Clair de Lune. I’d also like to dust off my oboe and start playing it again.

Notepads

Writing things down helps me to focus as I can’t function at my best unless I make lists. I get a real thrill from buying new notebooks and seeing potential within the blank pages. I also love notebooks that have pockets to tuck things into and dividers between the pages for easy organisation.

Olivia

Olivia leaving behind her customary trail of destruction...

It is no secret: we are besotted with this cat. She provides endless hours of amusement – sticking her head through the banisters, going crazy trying to pounce on our feet through the bedclothes, talking to us when we come in at night – and I can’t imagine our house without her now.

Pilates

The only thing standing between me and back pain; I cannot recommend it highly enough. It’s also improved my posture and strengthened my core. I’ve even got S into it after biking-related lower back ache, and our neighbours often chuckle at the sight of us on the floor of our living room, doing clams and the hundreds in front of our Darcey Bussell Pilates DVD.

Quizzes

I have been a general knowledge geek since the age of 10. My first secondary school was into general knowledge in a big way with inter-house competitions and an annual paper that everyone sat. I was also part of the school team that competed regionally and nationally in a schools’ version of University Challenge. I then was part of the Cardiff UC team, although we never made it to the television rounds. Whether it’s geeking out in the local pub quiz or competing against S in a newspaper’s weekend quiz, I absolutely love doing them. B has even asked us to set a pub quiz for her wedding later this month.

Reading

I have a bookmark that says “a book lover never goes to bed alone” and it’s so true. Books are my constant companions and I feel lost without one. Reading takes me to new places, allows me to meet new people and provides hours of conversation and debate.

S

He’s my best friend and my favourite person in the entire world. I still pinch myself in disbelief that I got such a good ‘un.

Talking

Although I hate using the phone for work and would much rather communicate via email, when it comes to keeping in touch with family and friends then talking is the best. My favourite kind of evenings are those when you meet up with someone and just talk and talk and talk, sharing ideas and thoughts, not caring if you’re rambling or working things out as you go along. I also enjoy getting into debates with people over issues, particularly if they’re contentious and I’m very firm on my position!

Understanding

There’s a line in To Kill A Mockingbird which has always stayed with me, when Atticus tells Scout that you can’t understand someone til you’ve walked around their shoes for a bit. Like my L above, a good way to try and live your life, trying to see where someone’s coming from and why they think the way they do.

Volunteering

Over the years I’ve volunteered in a variety of ways, from being a guide leader to doing Front of House duties at the Edinburgh Fringe. Late last year I joined an older person’s befriending scheme and I am just about to start doing home visits. The benefits of volunteering are immeasurable, even if it’s only something you do for an hour a week, and it can make a real difference.

Wine

If forced to give up alcoholic drinks (please god may that day never come), this would be the hardest wrench. There is nothing better than a glass of red enjoyed alongside some chocolate and a good film.

XX

Being a woman is brilliant. If nothing else, we have way more fashion choices than men.

Years

As I get older they zoom past quicker and quicker but I appreciate them more and more.

Zeds

I am one of life’s snoozers and sleep is very important for me. A weekend is meaningless without at least one lie-in, that delicious state of dozing where you can drift in and out of sleep knowing there’s no hurry to get up. Part of my love of being freelance is that I get a little bit of extra time in bed two days a week!

Post inspired by the lovely Susannah Conway

Christmas passed in a haze of wine, board games, reading, lounging and chocolate. I got some lovely gifts, most of which were edible, which is my perfect sort of present, as well as an electric blanket which we asked for and gratefully received from S’ parents. We may be officially old people now, but we’re toasty old people.

As I get older, the days and months and years seem to speed up – I can’t believe that 2011 is already done with. It’s been a good year though, a great year in many ways, and I feel very thankful for all the wonderful people and opportunities in my life. Because I am very blessed, and I think it’s very easy to lose sight of that in the business of every day living.

One of my resolutions for this year was to make a real go of my freelance career and I can say, hand on heart, that I have. It’s not enough at the moment to support me full time but I think soon I will be able to tip the majority of the balance from part time working to my own work. Although I did lose out on my dream part-time job in the spring, interviews around then have ended up leading to freelance work that has been really interesting. My proudest moment was seeing my name as editor on the wedding supplement I did in August – I can’t quite believe that I’ve gone from work experience to that in twelve months. Thank goodness I answered the intern advert – it’s set me off on a path that I never even dreamed of.

In my personal life I’ve had a thoroughly enjoyable year. There have been holidays to Paris, Cornwall, Germany, Poland and La Gomera; I’ve caught up with old friends and made new ones; S and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary and eight years together with the best meal I’ve ever had. Despite vowing not to, we ended up being super busy yet again in the summer and booking out all our weekends, but they were filled with such nice things that I can’t complain – camping trips, barbecues, visits to London, a hen do.

We’ve fulfilled a long held dream in getting a cat, who I love to bits (despite the fact she is incapable of keeping litter in the tray), and who has made us feel like more of a family. And the icing on the cake is that towards the end of 2011 we made plans that will hopefully mean 2012 will be a very exciting year – I will keep you posted! It’s also the year I turn 30 and I’m really excited about that – my twenties have been good but I have a feeling that my thirties are going to be even better. Plus it will be nice to be in the same decade again as S!

Thank you all for taking the time to visit and read and comment on my posts. I still get a thrill whenever I see that people are actually reading what I’ve written – it really means a lot to me.

We will be ringing in the New Year at a circus masked ball, with S wearing a top hat I spent yesterday afternoon constructing. Whatever you do and whoever you spend it with, I hope you have a great evening saying goodbye to 2011 and hello to 2012.

See you all next year!

Compromising yet another cat’s dignity to wish you a lovely Christmas/holiday season. May it be full of delicious food, fun and lots of relaxing times.

*****

Christmas has crept up on me this year. Although I started planning gifts and things about two months ago, I’ve still managed to be hoodwinked with the speed at which 25th December has come around. I finally finished off my gifts last night, after making three jars of sugar scrub from this tutorial, so aside from a few small things to wrap and a few stollen bars to make, we’re pretty much done. Two and half days more of work and then two whole weeks off – bliss. This year we’re off to S’ parents for Christmas Eve, Day and Boxing Day, and then spending the rest of the time doing not a lot back in Bristol.

The only thing I’m not looking forward to about Christmas is having to leave Olivia for three days. Although we’ve got a great cat sitter coming in to feed and cuddle her, I feel like we’re abandoning her, Home Alone style. After only two weeks with Olivia it feels like we’ve had her forever, and I’m so happy to have a cat permanently in the house. Her love for killing inanimate objects grows daily (her catnip mice, string, the TV cables, my measuring tape), as does her repertoire of squeaks and chirrups. She’s also very affectionate, and although she won’t sit on our laps yet, she likes to be nearby, sitting on the top of the sofa cushion or in between us. After Christmas we’ll be able to let her out, and all I can say is, god help the neighbourhood mice. I think their days are numbered.

]]> http://postcardsfromtheedgeofthewestcountry.wordpress.com/2011/12/20/in-which-its-beginning-to-feel-a-lot-like-christmas/feed/ 0 Postcards http://postcardsfromtheedgeofthewestcountry.wordpress.com/2011/12/09/in-which-theres-any-other-photo/ http://postcardsfromtheedgeofthewestcountry.wordpress.com/2011/12/09/in-which-theres-any-other-photo/#comments Fri, 09 Dec 2011 10:23:18 +0000 Postcards http://postcardsfromtheedgeofthewestcountry.wordpress.com/?p=2129 ]]> Today I’m on the fabulous Any Other Wedding with my Any Other Photo. If you’ve not checked out this site yet, come on over – it’s a lovely place to discuss “life, love and marriage – and all the bits in between”.

Any Other Photo is where you choose one wedding photo to share with AOW readers; something that may not be the most photographically perfect, or the one you initially thought would be your favourite, but the one that makes you smile every time you see it. The one I submitted is certainly that: I don’t even know who took it, but it captures a really special moment and brings back so many happy memories. Oh, and the buttons on my dress can be seen too, an added bonus as they were one of my favourite things about my outfit.

Internet, meet Olivia.

After five years of talking about it and two spells of cat-sitting family pets, we finally made the decision, walking home a little tipsily from the pub two weeks ago, that we were going to adopt a cat. The very next day we made a trip to the RSPCA in Bristol, then the one in Bath, then back to Bristol a few days later, where we met Olivia. One home check from the RSPCA later, she came home on Tuesday. We did debate changing her name but Olivia seems to suit her.

This is one of only a few photos we’ve managed to get, none of which are great quality, but that’s because she doesn’t sit still long enough at the moment to guarantee a good shot. There’s far too much to see and sniff.

Olivia was found abandoned with her kittens about a month ago. The kittens have all found homes and luckily she wasn’t in the shelter too much longer. They estimate her to be between 1 and 3 years old but after watching her insatiable appetite for string chasing, I would say she’s no older than a year. She’s also still quite small, with very dainty features and a thin tail. She chirrups a lot, and like Monty before her, has staked the papasan chair as hers. She already has S wrapped around her little paw and I’m not far behind.

]]> http://postcardsfromtheedgeofthewestcountry.wordpress.com/2011/12/07/in-which-olivia-enters-stage-right/feed/ 2 Postcards Olivia http://postcardsfromtheedgeofthewestcountry.wordpress.com/2011/11/23/in-which-there-is-a-defence-of-romance-novels/ http://postcardsfromtheedgeofthewestcountry.wordpress.com/2011/11/23/in-which-there-is-a-defence-of-romance-novels/#comments Wed, 23 Nov 2011 13:19:58 +0000 Postcards http://postcardsfromtheedgeofthewestcountry.wordpress.com/?p=2113 ]]> I read a fantastic interview this week with American author Nora Roberts, who is one of the most successful published writers around. She’s had over 200 books published, was the third person to sell more than 1m titles on Kindle and last year alone sold 10m books. She makes an estimated $60m a year. Yet many people have never heard of her and she’s only ever been reviewed once in the New York Times. Why? Because she writes romances, a genre repeatedly rejected by the literati for not being highbrow enough.

I’ve mentioned before on here that I read Mills & Boon and other romance novels. I read a healthy and varied number of books so throwing in the odd romance novel is nothing to be ashamed of it; in fact, I enjoy telling some people on occasion because it can change and challenge their opinions on reading and what’s acceptable. So this is why many of the comments made by Roberts really struck home. “Why would you apologise for what you read for pleasure? Just think of the illiteracy rate. Every book read for pleasure should be celebrated.” So, so true.

At my book club meeting last week (book up for discussion: C by Tom McCarthy, as far removed from romance as possible), I mentioned that I read romance novels. I looked up and saw one of the guys there visibly reduce the IQ he’d previously assigned me. The look on his face was so patronising, and I swear that from that point onwards, he disregarded any further comments I made. You could almost see him thinking that she reads romances, therefore her opinion on serious books is not worthy anymore.

Like any other art form, books have a wide range of genres and sub genres. When it comes to music, I can’t bear dubstep or house but I never, ever raise an eyebrow when people tell me they enjoy listening to them. They like it, I don’t, simple as that. As long as they don’t force me to sit in a room and listen to it with them then they can go ahead and knock themselves out. More importantly, I don’t make judgements on their intellect based on the type of music they enjoy. So why do people negatively judge those of us who read romance novels?

The interview makes reference to David Nicholl’s One Day and the tremendous success this book, which is to all intents and purposes a romance novel, has enjoyed, which is in a very large part due to the fact it was written by a man and not marketed as a romance novel. This thought had also struck me when I read it, and enjoyed it very much, earlier this year. It’s a book that has had huge sales, is still in the top ten fiction paperback list, and has been made into a film. I wonder though, would this have happened if it had been written by a woman? Or would it have had a completely different cover, been marketed as chick lit, and therefore not been reviewed and lauded by the papers and consequently bought by a wide range of people?

When I finished One Day I remember discussing it with S and comparing it with Lisa Jewell’s work, an author who I adore. In my opinion, it could easily have been written by Jewell; it shares many of the core themes in her books and the language and style used is very similar. But while Jewell sells healthy numbers of books, none of them have refused to exit the bestseller list and been made into a film with Hollywood stars. The way a book is promoted and marketed has such an impact on how it’s regarded by people and whether or not they’ll consider reading it.

Out of all the myriad genres of books out there, romance is the one that is looked down on the most. As the Observer article stated, it’s below sci fi in the pariah stakes of literature.  But why? Is it the covers? Is it the happy endings? Is it the sheer amount of titles published? What is the reason for this  air of condescension people have when it comes to romance novels?

As Nora said, “novels that celebrate love, commitment, relationships, making relationships work, why isn’t that something to be respected?”

Quite.