Domesticali

Unfamiliar habits

This view is not the norm - I must have been about seventeen the last time I ran seriously. And by seriously, I do not infer any enormous commitment on my part. But at my school, we were all obliged to run cross-country, the season hot on the heels of the hockey one, which thankfully left me with enough residual fitness level not to disgrace myself.

But it has never been something I would choose to do for my own enjoyment. Give me a team sport and I'm a happy camper, appealing as it does to my social side. But somehow the opportunities to play with others seem to drop away as we get older and lives get busier with jobs that mean travelling and offspring to factor in. Team sports require commitment and juggling of schedules and I guess at some point it all got too much hassle.

Couch-potatodom seemed so much easier to squeeze in. But I have Lina's post to thank for a bit of an about-face on the matter. She was talking about a running podcast C25K. I actually misinterpreted it as running  about 25 kilometers (c.25K - see how important punctuation is?) when I responded to her in awe. And then I went to check it out.

Without that panic inducing full stop, the podcast's full name is Couch to 5K - a running plan for complete beginners. It's free and in a moment of impulsiveness my urge to join in overcame my laziness and I downloaded the Week 1 plan and put on my trainers. The cheery woman was very encouraging and only required me to actually break into a run for 60 seconds at a time. You can do just about anything for sixty seconds, so I did. Around the deserted Recreation Ground where I thought there would be no witnesses to my bizarre stop-starting and increasing levels of sweatiness.

And I managed the 30 minute cycle just fine, no collapsing or gasping like a guppy. And the endorphins must have kicked in, because I didn't feel ashamed when I bumped into a neighbour and my postman on the way back home and had to explain what I was up to.

Thirty minutes does not a runner make, I know. But I've also learned this last year that if you build something into your routine for long enough it becomes a habit. And I also know that when I have a challenge in front of me, my stubborn streak kicks in and sometimes I surprise myself. We'll see if this is one of those times. Don't suppose anyone else wants to join in do they? Just 60 seconds at a time.

Busy hands

During periods of anxiety, it helps me to keep busy. Preferably small things, with instant gratification involved. Because when you are waiting on big things which are out of your control, it's good to go for a little contrast.

Mark is in the midst of entrance exams. I have made a dozen felt rings. Including the one that disintegrated when trimmed too much before it was properly felted and the one that has mysteriously disappeared (looks suspiciously at the cat).

I used to think I was quite good at handling pressure. Seems that's only true when I have some element of control over the outcome. I'm off to hunt down some more scraps of wool.

 

Do more with less

Up for a challenge? I usually am. You only have to mention something which sounds interesting and I'm there - ready to give it a whirl. So when the nice folks at Most Wanted asked me to take part in their 'Do More With Less' project, I agreed.

The aim was, in these frugal times, to find thrifty ways to make your money (or in this case, Voucher Codes' money) go further. Sure - I could do that. So I put my thinking cap on - I was overdue a good project to get my teeth into. Surely I could  dream up as a thrifty alternative to full priced ways. I had a look at some of the on-line sales that abound this time of year. Lots of lovely yarn calling my name, plenty of good fabric offers abounding. Craft books galore, with their promise of possibilities.

But in the midst of this virtual shopping spree, a little voice of reason was whispering in my ear. Did I have to buy something tangible? Did I really really need any more stuff when life is already crammed to the gunnels with the stuff we have accumulated already. I only had to glance across at the mountain of magazines in my living room to convince myself of that.

I'm no minimalist saint - I've confessed before to having a little hoarding issue, where magazines are concerned. I think they are my weak point because as relatively low priced items, they tend to be picked up on impulse and function as a handy little reward to myself (low calorie too). But when I look at the piles of them at the bottom of my bookshelves and calculate their monetary value, I feel ashamed by how much I have spent on them.

Perhaps that's the problem - their reproachful presence lingers on, when really they should have been an ephemeral pleasure. Their cover price doesn't represent the ownership of the printed form, it signifies a payment for a few hours of escapism. Sometimes we need to indulge ourselves and spend a little sanity money, but we don't want to be constantly reminded of our frivolous splurge.

And a small solution occurred to me. So I bought an annual subscription to Martha Stewart Living. Less expensive than buying single issues. And I opted for digital, which means that I don't pay ridiculously high 'import magazine' prices, I get it about a month sooner than I would receive the paper copy and there is no addition to my teetering pile of paper. Lower cost (less than £15 as opposed to well over £5o), less paper clutter, same itch scratched - the need for a small self indulgence.

That's the 'less' taken care of then, which just left the 'do more' bit of 'do more with less'. Determined to get maximum benefit from my first issue, I cooked dinner from a recipe suggestion (Salisbury Steak - very good - big thumbs up from the menfolk). And then I took the paper copy of Mollie Makes that was lying about and I made myself complete the little project that came free with the magazine.  

And what did I learn? If you need something, it's great to shop around, get a good deal, take advantage of a promotion. But make sure you have correctly identified the itch you are hoping to scratch. A little splurge is so much more pleasurable when you don't have to feel guilty about it. How are you treating yourself?

The week's miscellany

D'you think this is what they mean by adding some extra colour to your winter garden?

Yes, that is my garden (though not my peacock). They are feral in our neighbourhood. The village is divided between the peacock lovers and those who view them as pests and like to publish recipes for peacock pie. We're fans (though they take a bit of cleaning up after - the size of their poos is alarming).

Not that our garden is pristine or anything. In fact, I've only just got round to clearing a lot of the fallen leaves from the borders. It's a good excuse to be outside.

Clear skies, lengthening days. All good. Enjoy your weekend.

 

# from where i stand

In all the striving that this time of year brings - to be better, to be thinner, to get fit, to eat more healthily, to keep a more organized house - one important kernel of truth always seems to get missed.

Perhaps the easiest way to be happy is to find a way to appreciate the present, as it stands.

Seems I have aquired the habit of a photo a day, but I have found a new way of framing them. And a flickr group #from where i stand to play along with.

Anyone else joining in?

String Theory *

In the universe, there are forces so great that they are impossible to resist. Gravity, the smell of bacon cooking and string.

Those who know me tolerate and pander to this particular foible.  Hubs found me a vintage twine cloche just before Christmas, and the string that Monica brought back from Stockholm fits perfectly inside and in my living room.

See, decorative function. Because string is pretty. This spool I made from a piece of driftwood we picked up on holiday, and when I see it, it makes me happy on so many levels. Form and function.

But it doesn't have to look fancy -  I am just as content with the utility versions. They seem to hold in their orderly wraps such endless possibilities.

I could show you more - the hairy nutscene stuff that I own in 6 different colours, the big rolls of baker's twine in red and green, the teeny tiny spools of cotton string in ice-cream colours, the Bonne Maman jar in the kitchen jammed with two varieties of indestructible nylon stuff.

When Tess asked recently what we have lots of, but can never resist, I had to think carefully about it. But really, the answer was staring me in the face all the time. Answers are like that sometimes.

*  String theory attempts to provide a complete, unified, and consistent description of the fundamental structure of our universe. My theory is simply that you can never have too much string in the house.