Cranky
Cheeeeez I am tired of this weather. It’s been raining pretty much since Hannah left–no, since before Hannah left. It rained off and on the whole week they were here (I went round with my Bin of Umbrellas* to fit them out for London: fancy coming to England without at least one umbrella per person) but it’s like when Hannah and I hugged goodbye Sunday morning and the lightning flashed, some wet magic** went gloop and since then it’s raining like it really means it. Like it didn’t mean it before? It sure looked like it meant it last time. It looked like it meant it the time before that, and the . . . stop, stop, stop. This is Poor Sad Person Marooned*** Outside Her Culture and Her Understanding of How Things Are.†
But it wasn’t that many weeks ago†† I was muttering damply about thirty-nine days and thirty-nine nights and counting . . . well, we’re back on that track–that sea lane–again, slosh slosh. It’s the sort of weather that I don’t want to take the pillow off my head in the morning for the dread that there isn’t any sunlight waiting to wake me up. The sort of weather where I can barely get hellhounds out for twenty minutes at a go, which, when it’s teeming down, is about the limit: by half an hour they’re soaked right through and miserable, at twenty minutes they’re still merely wet. Then we come back indoors again and destroy another towel, and go upstairs and pretend to work for a while, till our accumulated restlessness becomes too much for us and we go out for another sprint. By the third sprint even my raincoat is demoralised, and I need a conveyor belt for that ultimately-desirable drying space in front of the Aga.†††
Yesterday I’d had enough of it and we got in the car and drove, and I simply aimed for the break in the clouds because there was one, and then we spent an hour and a half dashing around trying to stay under it which surprisingly worked out pretty well. But the car is where the car is where the car, and there’s not a lot you can do about it, barring a strong gift for teleportation. You do have to go back there, even if it is raining frogs and basilisks in the immediate vicinity, and today we were not quite so lucky, although the Weather Fairy did try. The ME has been kind of a bear‡, speaking of undesirable wildlife, the last few days, and when the Weather Fairy suggested that we take another little detour to the south while the latest belt of torrential downpour spilled across the north, I whimpered that I didn’t think I had an extra half-hour in me. So she did her best to hurry said downpour on its way, and it was gone within the twenty-minute limit, but we still got kind of wet. And cranky.
But it broke up enough this afternoon that I planted‡‡ a rose. And potted on several hundred‡‡‡ little green things gasping to get out of their wet newspaper/mailing trays. And there’s a rumour we might have a nice day tomorrow, before it shuts down again for the weekend. . . .
* I was delighted when they invented teeny umbrellas that fit in your knapsack. I was even more delighted when they invented being silly with them. The umbrella that lives in my knapsack has roses on it but I also have pink, orange, turquoise, purple and zebra, just in case I’m going somewhere that I want my umbrella to match my Converse All Stars.^
^ Did I tell you Becki wears All Stars? What I keep remembering is the years in the desert when the only place on the planet that sold Converse All Stars was Magic Shoes in lower Manhattan. For the first few years after I moved over here you could get them occasionally in dusty little shops in London, and then, nothing. When I went to America (and I don’t go to America without stopping in Manhattan) I took an empty duffel bag with me in the hopes of new Converse All Stars–I bought anything they had in my size.+ But the specific story of All Star deprivation was going into a new whopper sports store in London where I could see from the pavement outside they had walls of trainers++ and asking about All Stars and having the pimply 17-year-old clerk tell me condescendingly that they didn’t carry them because . . . [quelling pause] . . . only old people wore them. That was a good few years ago, but even then I hadn’t seen 17 in a decade or two, no. And I hope . . . no, whatever I say here, I will get angry comments from someone who is that thing, wanting to tell me that it’s Not Like That At All. Well, I hope he grew up to be something where people are tactless to him a lot.
And now cool 14-year-old girls wear All Stars. How satisfying is that. Well, it may surprise you to hear that this is not ideal either. Fifteen years ago they didn’t want to sell me All Stars because both the All Stars and I were deeply uncool. Now they don’t want to sell me All Stars because I am deeply uncool and they want me to leave the store quickly before I give their proper clientele the wrong idea. Sigh.
Furthermore, I have a weakness for painted All Stars which you can’t wear in the rain. Which is kind of where I came in. In England. Where it rains a lot. Perhaps fortunately I haven’t seen All Stars with proper roses on them yet. Retro 60s flowers, yes. William Morris on a bad day trellises, yes. Roses, no.
+ Extra super large.
++ sneakers
** All respects to E Nesbit
*** a nice soggy feel to the word marooned: and here I am on an island where it rains all the time. Nearly.
† It doesn’t rain like this in Maine! No, and all roses but a few gallicas and rugosas and anything you want to overwinter in a pot in your sitting room are annuals!^ Take your pick, McKinley! –I already have! I still get to complain!
^ Also Chaos would hate it. He’s a tender flower, our Chaos, in his swashbuckling way.
†† Spring! Aaaaaaugh! And I even like spring. I was/am going to post about the Loveliness of Spring one of these days. Supposing I can get the water out of my eyes–and perhaps more to the point off my glasses–long enough to see some of it.
††† I wear All Stars in this weather too. (Not the painted ones.) Which means I also have a little–or not so little–row of All Stars strung by their laces over the rail in front of the Aga, nicely at hip height so I can get smears of mud+ on my dangling shirttail while I’m trying to make a pot of tea (which of course sits on the Aga to keep warm). And I have been known to do loads of laundry that are entirely of socks. But I have spent hundreds of pounds on (*&^%£”!!!!! Goretex walking shoes and hated every pair. So I’ve stopped trying.
+ Especially farmyard mud
‡ Long claws. Long teeth. Nasty attitude. And possibly amphibious.
‡‡ Slowly, because of the amphibious bear.
‡‡‡ Well, it seemed like it. But I see octuple a lot when the amphibious bear is around.
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If the ME is amphibious yet large hulking and sullen, surely it isn’t a bear but some form of massive paleolithic turtle? That grabs hold and refuses to budge? I am sorry the beast has locked its jaws around you in this way. I’m sure the weather doesn’t help, but of course if the weather is lovely and you feel awful that has its own form of misery…
The last few years there’s been a lot of truly amazing sneakers around and the funky shops in Athens have a ton of converse all-stars. They are a bit too narrow and a bit too low in the instep for my feet. I swear I saw a pair in silver sequins the other day (for a night at the opera perhaps). If you tell us your shoe size, we’ll keep an eye out for rose ones for you. My walk back from work can take me through the toniest shopping district in Athens and there are more dedicated funky sneaker stores than I want to think about. I know a friend of mine got rose-covered wellington boots last year – something to think about for you if the wash continues in this way.
We’re getting warmer again and the day was lovely today (I mumbled to myself as I spent yet another day doing centuries-old psychiatry texts). It’s a bit pathetic when you enjoy putting out the laundry, as it’s the only time off you give yourself).
I did make a lovely hummous for lunch, accompanied by shrimp saganaki (shrimps in fresh tomato and melted feta cheese sauce), a six-leaf salad and beetroot. Fresh and spring-like it goes.
SILVER SEQUINS?? A girl could be *distracted* from single mindedly hunting roses . . .
Yes, I keep eyeing the rosey wellingtons. . . .
7 1/2 American men’s, which is what All Stars come in. 8 if you can’t get 7 1/2. All STars are my PERFECT shoe. Having spent twenty-odd years wearing shoes that didn’t fit I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when I found All Stars. I have long narrow feet (although they spread, just like your butt, with age) and narrow heels, MUST have things that lace AND that are ready to hike five miles cross country at any moment and obviously much prefer flats. I wear All stars with skirts too of course. :)
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*****7 1/2 American men’s, which is what All Stars come in. 8 if you can’t get 7 1/2.*****
HEY!! Stop saying you have big feet. I’m your height and I wear a man’s size eight boot — sometimes up to a nine, depending on the cut. I don’t have big feet — I have neat, efficient, practical feet. Think about horses — the ones that have feet too small for their size have foot problems. :-)
Judith
There’s a difference between navicular and dinner plates. :)
Geeze. Perhaps you need a snorkel. My mom recently moved to Mississippi (when did two years ago become recently? :S), and we talk a lot on the phone when she’s on her way home from work. She often starts our conversations with, “Well, it’s raining,” and then it’s my turn to say something snarky about how she’s moved to a swamp. I think she can’t usually make it up her driveway because of the mud. She told me today there were foot-deep ruts. (!!!) Our place in Texas had a bad driveway, too, but I could make it home in my little car without *too* much trouble.
I really don’t know how anyone deals with it.
Well, I suppose *you* deal with it for England. (And Peter, of course! Hi Peter!) And do you get a lot of mud? Or is it just rain and squishy grass?
MUD! GODS! IT’S **ALL** MUD!!!! ARRGH!
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Oh you poor thing. *sends giant mud-proof boots*
Seriously, my sympathies. I remember walking to the bus stop before I got my license. My sister and I had pairs of rubber boots we wore to walk to the end of the driveway. We had to carry our shoes. (And backpacks, and instruments.) Going through the slurpy mud in the dark…urgh.
I was so happy when I learned to drive. Of course, then I had to worry about my car getting stuck in the mud.
It’s May 1st and it’s snowing here. Has been since last night. Argh. I feel your pain.
I’ve posted many comments that did not show up any place. Couldn’t figure it out until I thought, maybe I should log in? Duh. Hopefully this one works.
In spite of the snow my roses are almost in bloom!
Lots of hugs in your marooned state. I’ve just been rereading the parts of Sunshine where she basks in warm sunlight with vicarious enjoyment. Spring seems to have become aquatic, and I SOOOO want dry and warm and light…
I also laughed when Sunshine and Constantine are talking about naming people, thinking about your “regal” ringing family, and vampires in the belfry :)
I have put a picture of my friends 3 week old kittens and two of her setters from my visit to her on Tuesday, plus more of my beasts (got 6 to sit on my bed while I took pictures – most snored, but Nemo kept trying to slide out of shot!) The camera worked beautifully, but I have taken HOURS to upload them on lj :(
and please tell about the hellhounds training/or not! Darkness is handsome, but every time I see Chaos I just fall in love again (kidnap could be planned if you need it lol)
All you’re doing is causing me to **bristle** in Darkness’ defense . . . who CAN at least learn to pick up BOTH feet!!
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Did I not say Darkness is handsome?? They are both adorable, but something about the look that Chaos is giving is very Vogue cover model…
Will stop before I put my foot in it up to the hip, and please give both boys big fuss from me. I’d offer virtual tripe sticks but don’t want to interfere with magical sparkling capsules.
And big cheer to Darkness and his feet learning. YAAY!!
Chaos is more photogenic because he’s so fricking *wired*. Darkness is actually capable of kicking back and sogging out. :)
Oh, DARKNESS.
You know, Robin, you should keep Darkness off the internet! (Or at least supervise.) I keep getting spam comments to one of *my* WordPress blogs from [Hacked By DaRkNesS]. I already know he’s smart and has a distressingly cute nose. I saw the picture!
I’m waiting for the [Hacked By ChAoS] comments to start coming in.
Golly. I’ll speak to him at once. Yo, Darkness, stick to yodelling and goosing your owner! And don’t you dare lead your brother into MORE trouble! He gets into enough without help!!!
“wired” often stops learning cause so much swirling round and round inside brain that no opportunity for anything new to make an entrance. Have you tried any Telington Touch?
I think you and the hounds would enjoy it and it could just be the same time you spend stroking them, but in a slightly different way, so no extra time needed. (Not trying to cause unnecessary delays to Pegasus and Albion)
**** Sogging out
Lol! especially in this weather!
Mmm. Constantine. *distracted for hours*
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Snork! I find him fairly distracting myself! I still dream about–no, no, not THAT scene! The one where he bleeds on her! :)
Oh, hm, that is a bit creepier than the one I was thinking of. Which is not the one YOU’RE thinking of, I swear! ;)
I was thinking about the ones where she tells him the story of Beauty and the Beast, and then the one where he feeds her bites of muffin. Mmm. Sigh.
Ohdear… don’t start… please… visual imagination just took off again…
It’ll rain on Saturday, as any fule knows – it’s Badminton Cross-Country day, and it _always_ rains on Badminton Cross-Country day. Unless it’s one of those years where the sun beats down relentlessly and the spectators eye the Lake with some frustration, because, y’know, large body of water _right there_ and you could go for a swim at the far end without even disturbin the horses.
Oh of course. *Silly* me.
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It seems to me that, for some perverse reason, May Day is always yucky weather here and it ruins my plans to run around outside singing “The Lusty Month of May” from Camelot. Today it is snowing (after 75 degree weather yesterday) and I just pulled all of the leaf mulch from around my strawberries and mint, so I hope they don’t get frostbite.
On the topic of All Stars, my husband is obsessed with them and has about five pairs. One of his pairs is a special order from the website that are black all over with TECHIE embroidered in white; he teaches technical theatre and a class of his students bought them for his birthday.
My son, who will be two in July, got his first pair of All Stars 6 weeks ago because he’d just outgrown his last pair of shoes and now he’s already outgrown the Cons. He now has a pair of Airwalks (not quite as cool) that have little green aliens, white rockets, stars, and planets (which look like graphics from an Intelivision video game, Astrosmash, from the 80′s).
Erika in Colorado
FIVE pairs–!!? Oops. Better not admit to how many SHELVES I have of ‘em . . .
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Do you know that you can get a George Booth umbrella–raining cats and dogs–from The New Yorker store? It isn’t tiny, but it is illustrated.
I sympathize with you about shoes. I also have a narrow foot and narrow heel, now complicated by a bunion, so shoe shopping is something of a quest. When I find a good shoe, I always want to buy SEVERAL pairs because they won’t be there the next time. It is GOOD to have a shelf full of the right shoes.
Thanks for the good wishes about the shows. I have shown the A.B. myself and put points on her and won two best of breeds, but my handling skills are not up to best of breed competition and I don’t want to lose because I’m outhandled. About puppies: we found out last week that the bitch is not pregnant–really depressing for her owner and for us too–but we also learned that the A.B.’s sister was inseminated last week, so we are now waiting to see what happens with her. MORE puppy candles have been lit. We’ll find out at the end of May.
And did I say that it’s supposed to rain here for the next two days? And we are in a hotel with a dog. AAARRRGH. Boy, do I agree with you about the weather!
Yes I keep LOOKING at that umbrella. But the friend hunting G Booth t shirts claims to have been SUCCESSFUL.
Maybe the AB should be in the *handler’s* hotel room?!
How about some DOG PICS?!?
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You have small feet, comparitively. I wear 10.5 in mens. I very seldom get to wear women’s shoes. My mom taught me how to sew, so at least I am CLOTHED appropriately (6’2″), but she didn’t teach me how to cobble.
It snowed here yesterday, too, next door to Colorado. Our plant life is resigned to it.
Whine, whine, whine. Stopping now.
Oh, another TALL woman! Go AWAY! I’m JEALOUS!
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Ahem.
YOU are tall in my eyes.
I’m a shade over 5’1″.
:p
Gosh. I bet you have a stepstool in your kitchen. Well, you can hate me, and I’ll pass it on to ssshunt and scarhandpiper. . . . I wonder who they pass it on to? The local basketball team? I have a tall male friend who used to think my crankiness about not being tall *enough* was very funny till one day, he said, he was on the subway platform with the local basketball team and . . .
>Gosh. I bet you have a stepstool in your kitchen.
LOL. Yes. And the bench is at the right height for ME. (Tough luck for tall people)
>Well, you can hate me, and I’ll pass it on to ssshunt and scarhandpiper. . . . I wonder who they pass it on to?
Nah, I never hate anyone for that. Being short has advantages when going through low doorways… and it isn’t as far to bend down to pick up lambs or puppies… ;)
It just seems to me that there’s something portentous about you and Hannah embracing before she leaves, just before the downpour really gets started. If I had to interpret that magic, I’d say that you two are not meant to be apart and that the weather won’t work right until you’re back together. Plus, think about it…she lives in Manhattan which, for aeons was the only place to sell converse, the chosen footwear of the Hellgoddess. And you were exiled here. I submit my proof, things don’t work unless you’re together.
Maybe so. But there’s no happy ending to this story–neither of us is likely to move. :(
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I’ve been reading this site for awhile, and decided I should actually register so I could comment. I don’t know about in England, but in the USA, if I google Converse All Stars, I get many sites from which to order them – many with free shipping (at least here!). I have taken to ordering all my shoes thru the mail. I only wear a few brands, and I know what size I take in them. Free shipping is crucial, tho. It’s definitely shopping made easy.
That’s true *now*. It wasn’t ten or so years ago.
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The rain seems universal … floods in Maine … running out of wearable boots in Vermont … and snow where it ought to know better.
I trust you have not yet visited the Converse web site? Red sequins! Designer versions for charity. Design your own. Whoa, way too many choices. I’m trying to get up the courage to attack shoes with fabric paint.
I hiked the West Highland Way (95 mi. Scotland) last summer with my umbrella. The folks who were giving me funny looks near the start, had to admit at the end that it made sense. I especially remember a day of constant rain when I sat on a stone wall by the side of the trail eating my sandwich under the shelter of the umbrella … as the others trudged by, rain dripping from faces, hands, jackets, trousers, packs, and splashing with every step. Bless the person who invented umbrellas!
If you can purchase waterproof markers and/or waterproof fabric pens you can paint your own. I have an artist colleague (aka a teenager I know :-) who makes them to sell for her FBLA project.
Yes–I make my own *too.*
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Do they carry All Stars in larger sizes? My foot is large to match my 6’2″ bod. Will have to Google.
Yes–these are men’s shoes after all.
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I just wondered if http://www.longtallsally.com might be somewhere you’d used? I’ve a friend beside whom I feel even more vertically-challenged* than usual and I know she swears by them…:)
5’4″
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In my experience they don’t believe in thin people. Everything is a size or two large. But I think that may just be my local one. The problem is that it IS my local one.
Completely unrelated to anything else, saw this today and thought it was worth promoting virally, I really love the sequence.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XmrPb6luGU
*****Fifteen years ago they didn’t want to sell me All Stars because both the All Stars and I were deeply uncool. Now they don’t want to sell me All Stars because I am deeply uncool and they want me to leave the store quickly before I give their proper clientele the wrong idea.*****
My deah, you are living in the land of the intimidating British dowager. They are young. You are mature. Draw yourself up to your full height and look down your nose and demand what you want, and have them running about to serve you. :-)
Seriously, although I want to LOOK young, up to and including plastic surgery, I’ve never bought into youth worship, and I never intend to pretend I’m younger than I am. Years are earned. Experience is precious. When I was a young woman in my 20s, I never thought I would be good enough for an older man in his 30s or 40s. Why would he want me? He could have an older woman with greater life experience. I did end up marrying a man nine years older than myself, and thought I’d done well. :-)
I remember when Converse sneakers were FIRST cool — around 1971 or so. Sigh. Even then I wasn’t into “cool”. One of my friends lusted after a pair — I remember watching her saga. But I wasn’t interested in them for myself. My own tastes run to classic — stuff you can wear for decades without it going out of style (or, at least, without my noticing or caring that it’s out of style).
Judith
Ahem. *Converse* never goes out of style. I don’t care what the fashionistas have said over the last thirty years about it. And Converse were also cool in the . . . I dunno, 50s I think. But I don’t think they had hot pink then so I’m not traumatised that I missed it.
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