Stopped Procrastinating

And finally finished the bits I've been making for my cousin. She is due her first baby this week, and I have completed a blankie, a duck and a whale for said small thing. Now all I have to do is get them wrapped and put in the post. That's a job for tomorrow I think, since I will need to go to the post office to get something to put it all in.

I still have an impressive list of things that I need to do. I have a cloak to make still, and a corset to take in, then there's a jacket needing buttons moved, patches sewn on and cuffs turned up. I have a leather corset to mend as well while I'm at it, and have just been asked to mend a 14th century jerkin and come up with a draught excluder for a tent of the same era. I'm not short of a few jobs to keep me occupied as you can see.

Himself on the other hand has no such industrious leanings. He's just been introduced to a new game by one of my friends from Wales and seems to be enjoying it. It's not trains and has some fairly soothing music, so I don't mind it. I don't understand it (as I generally don't when it comes to games like that) but I don't really have to, and as long as he is happy, that's fine by me.

He is currently asleep, fully dressed, on the bed. He fell into bed about 2 hours ago, just after dinner. We left M&Ms late last night and it was a tough drive home through pouring rain and howling wind, with some trees down that needed to be navigated round. By the time we got home, he decided he wasn't going to bed, as there wasn't really the time before he had to be up for work this morning, so he's been up since ten yesterday morning. He's having tomorrow off as well, trying to get the dentist to have a look at one of his fillings which fell out yesterday and his tooth has been giving him considerable grief.

I am now off to fall into the shower, then crawl into bed and get some sleep before getting up at half six tomorrow morning to start the whole get up, go to work, come home, do some sewing, go to bed, get up... cycle again.

Work sucks by the way. I've been told I've done something wrong, but there's no specifics over exactly what it is or how I can make a difference to what it is I have or haven't done... Let's just say I'm considering looking for another job, because I'm on a fixed term contract anyway and if they're not renewing it, I'm going to need some other source of income. I won't know if they're renewing for another week either, and even if they do, it will only be extended for three months...

Job security anyone? Bleah...

Anyway, now I'm back to procrastinating, because I'm sat here instead of going for a shower or starting another sewing thing I have to do so I can scratch it off my list. I should take pics of the baby stuff so I can post it here for people to see... Or even to use as advertising for similar items to be sold as part of my business... We shall see.

*Sigh*

*sigh*

I need to stop reading his blog. I am the blackmailer, the threatener, the nasty person...

Why?

Because I made a choice. I made a choice to do something for us. Something that could benefit us in the long term. Something that will mean that we would be one step closer to a goal. A goal I thought was shared.

Will he do the same? Will he do what I've done? If he doesn't, then it means the end result will be different.

After words were spoken earlier, I now firmly believe that, out of spite, out of malice, or out of a genuine fear of failure, he will not be joining me.

Once again, I'm alone.

Postcard as promised.

I finally have a sewing room... Almost. Just need a tall enough chair because the desks are higher than a normal table. The good news is that a chair should be reasonably easy to lay my hands on from one of the DIY places around here, although there was a nice one in the Range last time we were in there.

Anyway, the postcard from Scotland: Weather good, food great. Music BRILLIANT. Had a lovely time. Wish you could have been there.

And now for the proper version...

The weather was scorchio. I even managed to get a sunburned nose after a day out to the beach, chucking stones in the water and making my freckles almost join up into a decent tan. The Jazz Festival was amazing, and I saw some top-named bands, like the Passadena Roof Orchestra (not bad, better on the CD), George Penman's Jazz Men, although George wasn't there through ill health. They were still good though. The best nights I reckon were the Deep River Quartet, who were ace, only topped by the night Kenny Ball played.

I've been listening to his music for what feels like my whole life. Mum had some of his singles, and I loved listening to them. I feel really privelaged to have been there to see him play, and best of all, I now have his autograph! I was so chuffed when my mate came back with my programme all signed by him, and then he played Midnight in Moscow, requested for me! Oh, it was a brilliant night!

It was grand being at home with the parents as well. Mum's a good cook, dad's good with the advice, and the pair of them together are a laugh. While I was there, our friend Katrin from Germany phoned to say she was in Scotland and could she come over. Of course she could! It was brilliant to see her again (last seen about 15 years ago) and we had an absolute scream. I laughed so hard when we were watching Shrek, mostly because of something said earlier on in the day, and the joke just carried so well into the scene where the frog and snake become baloons. It wouldn't be funny if I wrote it down, so I'll save it. You'd just think I was insane (or more than normal anyway).

Anyway, I'm home, and have been feeling a bit sorry for myself. Stupidly I decided to be lazy on Wednesday night and ordered a takeaway. I was throwing it back up again by 2am and spent the last two days with food poisoning. Lovely. I'm perkier today, but still not eating much. The last traces of the food poisoning are still lurking, but I'm trying to keep my fluids up and flush the system out a bit.

Ho hum... I'm idle for the evening I think. Nearly time to make another pot of tea anyway.

It's only words...

Well, here we are again. I'm back from my holidays, but will tell all about it another time. I said I would do the topic of language, so I'm going to do that first I think. I'm in the mood for a bit of philosophical rubbish rather than the postcard writing, so here it is. My take on things linguistic.

It's a funny old thing, language. This English language we use has changed so much over the years, that what we speak now would be almost unrecognisable to people from even just a couple of hundred years ago. To the technophobes of today, even the word "Blog" has no meaning and if you're not a habitual net/mobile phone user, cyberbrat, or the use of single letters to replace words is just a confusing mass of rubbish that means absolutely nothing to the reader. Punctuation is optional. Spelling is as well. Education seems to have disappeared as far as literacy goes, and kids today would, on the whole, prefer to watch rubbish on television than sit down with a good book or some decent music on. Music these days is either covers of old stuff (eighties songs and older) or loud noise with a heavy, thumping beat. Nice when it's in the right place, but not when you're sat trying to sew or read.

Anyway, back to the language thing...

I was taught a while ago that what words you say to people is less than a quarter of how they perceive the meaning. The rest is made up of nuance/tone and body language. This makes it incredibly difficult in the written word to say exactly what you mean half the time. People pick up their own meanings and tonality when reading the written word and it can be interpreted many different ways, with many differing results. Some people wilfully misunderstand the meaning as well, just so they can respond in a way they want to. I've found that a lot with an online game that I'm an Administrator for, as well as in other places. Certain people will only pick up on the bits they want to in a written passage, and pull them out to be examined and dissected for meaning, when taking them out of the whole changes their meaning entirely in the first place. However, that change fits their reasoning for doing so, and they can argue their point accordingly. I have a tendency to take a whole and break it down, answering each point that's been made as I see it, thus dealing with the parts and the whole that's there in front of me. I have to do that a fair bit with my Admin role, answering various questions/ accusations/ comments and so on that get posted on the game forums. I've had to do it at other times as well, with various e-mails and so on that require more attention than the general chatter.

Onwards we go into the words themselves. Funny old things, words really. There's a thought going round that the Americans bastardised the English language, however what they speak on the wrong side of the pond (geographically, we are "right", they are "wrong". I prefer that to "left") is actually pretty close to the English spoken in the 16th and 17th centuaries over here. Faucet for tap, an old English word, is a good example. The missing letter u in words such as colour (color), neighbour (neighbor) and other "mis-spellings" actually came about because English printers in the 17th centuary charged by the letter, so adding extra letters was good for business, and they passed into general usage. Their word "Aluminum" is correct as well, and our version of Aluminium only came about because it fitted better with the other element names (Plutionium, uranium, Lithium, etc). The original I think was a French discovery and named Aluminum.

Then there's the words that sounds the same, or are even spelled the same, that have different meanings. Row = paddle a boat, have an argument, or a straight line. How confusing is that? There's other similar words that have a similar variety of meaning (tap, jig, reel, ruler, box... I could go on for ages here), and then there's all the synonyms, antonyms, derivations and everything else that makes our language so complex. The English language has more words in it than any other on the planet, and yet the general vocabulary contains a mere fraction of the usage of only 50 years ago. People are getting lazy about language, using less and less words in an everyday setting. It's a far cry from the days when the language was used to a better effect.

Then we come to the slang. Every English-speaking (and other languages, but I only do English with any kind of fluency) nation has it's own set of slang words, and each part of each nation has a particular dialect slang as well. The English that's spoken in Manchester is not the same as English in Glasgow, Edinburgh, London, Bournemouth and anywhere else you can think of. In my previous blog I used "packing" which can be either puting things in a suitcase, or carrying a weapon, the slang version mostly used in our Colonial, wrong-side-of-the-pond nation of America. I go back to Scotland and find myself slipping back into the local slang dialect to the point where people I work with here in the South of England would have a hard job understanding me. There's a few really good words however that are so much more descriptive than anything the English could come up with. For instance "Boggin'" which means revolting, as in "Ahm no eatin' that. It's boggin'" (I'm not eating that. It's revolting) Or "Ah wudnae go oot with that. He's boggin'" (I wouldn't walk out with/date that young man as he is ugly). "Howfin', bowfin' an' boggin'" means really goddamn ugly. See what I mean? So descriptive...

It does bother me when people pick at things or get their own meanings, then get annoyed because you've written something they don't like, when in fact they should take the time to read it in different inflections before attempting to work out the real meaning behind things. It's a known fact that if you read something while annoyed, you will get a different meaning than if you read it when you are happy, calm, aggitated, frightened or any other mood you choose. We've all jumped to conclusions about things in the past. It's a common mistake, but few ask for a proper explanation before saying something (another thing that no one is innocent of). Sometimes words can cause rifts that will take a long time to heal, if ever, and the animosity created will forever cloud the reader from making any kind of reasoned judgement as to meanings. It will all be seen as a direct (or indirect) attack, with subliminal meanings that need to be picked at, but never fully understood, because the rift of animosity will not permit it.

It can only take one word out of place, one misunderstanding to cause arguments sometimes, especially when you do not know the writer well enough to be making snap judgements about meaning. Been there, seen it, had to reply to a few irate mails about something that's been said somewhere (I do write in a few different places), and for the most part, an explanation of the real meaning can diffuse the situation instantly, unless of course the person is just out for an argument, as I have seen countless times in the game I play.

Words are wonderfully versatile things: They can be chosen to do any number of things from convey feelings of love to show deep scorn and hatred, as well as to make praising comments or snide remarks. It all depends what you want to use them for at the time. These days I'm more contemplative about what I want to say before I say it. I've had enough run-ins with people to last me a lifetime over stuff that has been misconstrued in the heat of the moment, and to be honest, I've started a few posts on this thing only to delete them, rewrite, delete, rewrite and then scrap completely, just because what I want to say could be misconstrued so easilly, or seen as an attack on certain people, or would just generally cause another argument with whomever that I would rather avoid. I'm not usually the quet type, but sometimes the quiet life is easier. It's just shorter for me to write... Although I don't think I've ever been knowingly under-talkative around these parts. As I said a long time ago in my first post: getting me started is a little difficult, but getting me to shut up again is nigh on impossible... Anyone who has ever had one of my "quick" e-mails (generally no less than than 5 paragraphs) will tell you this...

Well, that's my take on language. Feel free to comment. All opinions are welcomed, because discussion is the food of the mind.