Hands

Hand
by Carol Ann Duffy

Away from you, I hold hands with the air,
your imagined, untouchable hand. Not there,
your fingers braid with mine as I walk.
Far away in my heart you start to talk.

I squeeze the air, kicking the auburn leaves,
everything suddenly gold. I half believe
your hand is holding mine. The way it would
if you were here. what do you say

in my heart? I bend my head to listen, then feel
your hand reach out and stroke my hair, as real
as the wind caressing the fretful trees above.
Now I can hear you clearly, speaking of love.


From Rapture, Carol Ann Duffy (2005)



I stopped and thought about my last post after I had written it and realised that I have a lot more choice in how I spend the holidays than many people do. We choose to spend christmas where we do, if only for a quiet life for the other 364 days of the year. So this is firstly for the wife and secondly for who ever you want it to be for.

Discontent

I was planning on travelling home tomorrow but all I keep hearing about is heavy snow and disruption. The met office are saying an 80% risk of disruption up the eastern side of the country - half the length of which I want to trundle up tomorrow in my little tin can. As it is, although there's no snow here I can't get into my car because of frozen locks (problem there being that the gin is in the boot, an extra 24 hours here and I'm going to need that gin)! I don't like driving in the snow as I tend to get transfixed on the falling snow hitting the windscreen and forget that I'm hurtling along at speed. My other problem is that I'm succeeding in losing weight at a time when most people are putting it on. The wife and I love our food. Before we even make it out of bed, three meals are planned for the day ahead. My mum has one meal a day and so there are none of the lovely morning/lunch/afternoon snacks that I am used to. No bacon and egg, sausage sarnies or three course lunches. There's not even a mince pie in the house! There is a small box of Celebrations but my small cousins ate all the best ones the other day (on the up side I have just spotted Celebrations Mahjongg, if only dial-up wasn't so slow, it might take my mind of the hungar). Of course food isn't the only reason I miss home, there's the dog as well. (Oh, and the wife's sense of humour) And her.....

...well, just her!

Mistletoe and Wine

All of a sudden Christmas appeared. I suppose it's because I didn't have much preparation to do. I travelled to my mums last Friday and things have been a little bit strange here. I still haven't spoken to my dad since he left and I thought he might try to phone me this week. So far he hasn't but I did get a card! Mum is finding this week hard but fortunately Christmas day we went to friends, otherwise it might have been depressing just us at home. As it was we had a good time, although I think I may have been mostly responsible the empty bottle of brandy!

The wife is still at home with her family. Of course I miss her whenever I'm away but this time I'm particularly feeling it. (I don't want to think about how big my phone bill will be, but she has such a gorgeous phone voice)! I think it's because she is great to talk to when I get fed up of the situation with my parents, or any situation for that matter. And also because if it was just us two at Christmas we would make it a special time, more so than it is for either of us as things are. Hey-ho, just three more sleeps until I go home and my little cousins are coming tomorrow so that will keep me busy for the day.

I hope you had a great time this Christmas and that it was everything you wanted it to be.

Away in a manger

This morning I got to go to the oldest grandkids carol service. I was preparing a rant about how her school weren't doing a nativity play and how the true meaning of Christmas has been lost but the school have redeemed themselves. Although I suppose nativity plays must be a chore for teachers and parents alike - apart from the one line your little darling gets to say the rest is irrelevant. I always ended up being an angel, with itchy tinsel wrapped around my head. Apart from the year I was a cloud (a sign that class sizes were on the increase and there weren't enough parts to go round?). I always wanted to be a shepherd, I wanted to sit around in my dressing gown with a tea-stained t-towel on my head! Anyway, the carol service was lovely (apart from the happy-clappy woman who spent too long trying to convince 4 and 5 year olds that when they look at their christmas tree they should remember Jesus dying on the cross and some other miracle that even I, as a good catholic girl, couldn't understand). The little'un was pleased we were there though.

Afterwards we went Christmas shopping - i.e. a two hour lunch and half an hour in the shops before deciding we'd had enough!

Dirty stop out

A friend came for dinner last night and drank us dry. She didn't leave until 3am and then only because the wife actually fell asleep! The trouble is, no matter what time I go to bed I still wake up at the same time so today has been a write-off, I have hardly left the sofa. Is 7.30pm to early to go to bed?

Our Story: Part 2

I just rattled off the first part without really stopping but this I have thought about a bit more. The first part probably reads like your typical girl-meets-girl kind of tale but here are the bits I missed out.

On the internet, when we were having fun in a chat room, age was irrelevant but it eventually came out that the wife is twice my age. Me being a young 20-something had no history, no baggage, but she had been married and had kids who are my age. This wasn’t a problem online and neither of us expected the relationship to continue in the real world. We expected to go home from our first meeting as good friends, nothing more. We have discussed the age gap so often, less so now than in the early days, and decided that when we are left alone to get on with our lives it is not an issue.

Obviously, the situation is complicated by her kids. We have decided that it is simpler to keep our relationship to ourselves and the age gap makes this easier – well who would think that their mother was having an affair with a woman more than half her age? The situation was ideal. The wife was living alone and I needed a place to live, the rent I pay her comes in handy and it’s cheaper for me than renting elsewhere. Plus we get on so well. The added bonus for me is the grandkids. The oldest was only one when I moved in and more have arrived since and I have been able enjoy them growing up. All the advantages of being a grandparent with none of the responsibilities.

There are times that the age gap is felt – I am just setting out on my career while the wife is thinking towards retirement; her life is full of grandchildren while I would love to have children of my own one day; But when it’s just us, life couldn’t be much better. Frequently I wonder who is older, especially when she is up half the night while I am in bed by 10.30 or when I’m telling her to quieten down before the neighbours start to complain!

I can’t imagine what my life would be like now if we had done the ‘sensible thing’ and just stuck to being friends. The wife has always been there for me over the last five years and will, God willing, be there for many years to come. I know many people wouldn’t approve and indeed when an old friend of mine came to visit recently it seemed she couldn’t see past the age gap, although fortunately she is the exception. Hopefully, by telling our story in two parts, you will see that we are just a regular couple living our regular life and the little things aren't important.

Mouth watering

Earlier this evening the wife was watching TV in which Hugh Fernley Whittingstall was killing a turkey for Christmas dinner. This seemed to upset her somewhat, to the extent that she declared "if I didn't enjoy eating meat so much I would be a vegetarian". I missed the programme as I was cooking a turkey curry. Yes, she did eat it and yes, she did enjoy it!

Up the creek

I have been sent home from work after nearly two weeks as the funds out of which my wages are paid haven't come through yet. It's good to have a nice long Christmas holiday but not so good as I was expecting to be paid at the end of this month and have been bashing the credit card a bit recently. It would also seem that I have worked several days for nothing, although I wasn't that busy and spent quite a bit of time practicing solitaire. And I got most of the background reading to the project done so that when I start again next month it will be a nice easy start. If anyone would like to make a donation my email address is at the side (shy kids get nowt)!

At least I've got plenty of time to finish 'our story' and have a play around with the template, see if I can't brighten this place up a bit.

And for free entertainment I'm getting into Mahjong and to replace Sudoku there is Kakuro.

Our story

This is the story of how the wife and I met, just over five years ago and the first year we were together. It's a long one so I hope you're sitting comfortably.

We met online back in December 2000 when I was living with my parents and the wife was living 200 miles further north. I think we were both looking for a bit of fun which is exactly how it started out although the only thing I remember about that night is her words, she is a poet at heart. The following few nights we found each other again in the same chat room and the rest as they say is history. We first spoke on the phone an hour into 2001 and this is how the relationship was conducted over the next few weeks.

Inevitably we had to meet and so it was with a churning in my stomach I set out one morning in March only to be back home an hour later as the 5 millimetres of snow had stopped the buses running and inevitably, the trains wouldn’t be far behind them. The wife thought this was just an excuse but I proved her wrong when we finally made it to York on the 19th April 2001. I will never forget those first few minutes in York station and the following taxi ride to the minster (it was raining and there was no way the wife was going to get her hair wet - something I was to get used to)! I was so nervous that all I could say for the first 10 minutes was yes or no and all my efforts were concentrated into stopping my knees from knocking together, (successfully as she never noticed me shaking). We walked around the Minster and few of the shops before finding somewhere to eat. I sat there with visions of me spilling gravy down my top and dropping peas everywhere but the meal passed without incident, apart from the wife stopping me mid-sentence to mutter something behind her hand. I didn't hear what it was she said but could tell from the look on her face that she felt the same way I did.

Later that afternoon we found ourselves in a cosy pub (something we have become good at) and talked for hours. It was only after admiring her watch that we noticed the time and that we had both missed our trains home. Deciding that there was nothing we could do about it we had another drink then made our way to the station. The departure board showed no trains going in my direction and the wife was adamant that she couldn't leave me behind not knowing if I would be stuck there, so would I go home with her. I protested a couple of times (along the lines of "no I couldn't, there will be a train along in a minute, no really, oh, okay then, why not"). By the time we had bought the ticket there was indeed a train going my way but by then it was too late. On the way home she kept telling me that she would sleep on the sofa, trying to convince me that the invitation was more about my saftey than wanting to get me into bed. I must have been convinced as York to Manchester in the rush hour is not short of trains!

On the walk from the station to her home we stopped off in another cosy pub (see, it’s a habit) and found a quiet nook where we talked some more, and some more. Eventually we made it home and, I'll not go into detail, but wine, music and a comfy sofa... We did both sleep in her bed (being all shy I borrowed a nighty of hers but she is smaller than me, how anything happened that night with me wearing that I'll never know, I could barely move in it. But happen it did). This was the first time either of us had slept with another woman (I'm a slow starter and God only knows what her excuse is)!

The following day we danced to Van Morrison as we waited for the taxi to take me to the station. I returned home and started planning our next meeting. She came to stay with me for a couple of days by which time I was applying for jobs at her end of the country and after a few weeks I had a couple of interviews. In the July we hired a cottage in the Lake District and spent a magical week getting to know each other, no one has ever made me laugh as much as she did that week (things like sex in the jacuzzi being interrupted by worries of the bubbles ruining the carpet and not being able to find car parks so continuing through three towns until we reached the sea and couldn't drive any further).

In between visits it was frustrating having to go back to conducting our relationship over the phone and internet, that is where the title of this blog came from, we were contentedly discontent. August we spent apart but then more interviews came up in September, one which allowed us to spend a couple of days in Northumberland where we rented an apartment for a couple of days (I would like to appologise to the owner for the dents left in the carpet where we pushed to two single beds together, we were young and in love)! Then out of the blue, I was offered a job and three weeks later I moved in with the wife for good. It was then that I realised that I couldn't remember her asking me to move in, had I just taken in upon myself to turn up with my suitcase and boxes of junk? The wife can't remember either but she didn't seem to mind.

So that's it. But when real life takes over it's not quite that simple.

To be continued…

Disclaimer

We were talking last night about blogging and the wife pointed out that the
title of this blog is a phrase of hers (uttered frequently when we were
living hundreds of miles apart). So I agreed to a disclaimer along the lines
of "The title 'Contentedly Discontent' remains the property of the wife and
is not my original work" - which, as she pointed out, is profoundly
unprofound!

Popping the question

Am I still allowed to call the wife 'the wife' since the civil partnership act came into being last week? I did point out to the wife that we could now marry (sorry, it's not called marriage, she could become my civil partner), and she asked 'would you really want to?' I didn't pursue the matter any further!

I shall simply treasure the ring she bought me in our first year (and one day tell you our story and why, for my own safety, she won't 'marry' me)!

Food for thought

There is something disappointing about having a meal and not enjoying it. The wife and I love our food but this can sometimes become a problem. Today we had a break from the Sunday roast and got loads of stuff to go in a stir-fry. Lovely, until we opened a jar of sauce which kind of spoilt it. I hate spending time preparing lovely ingredients only to not enjoy the finished meal, I feel cheated and totally not satisfied!

To cheer things up a bit we have put up some decorations, although I'm still not feeling the christmas cheer. I am however finding it amusing when things keep falling down making the wife jump up to stick them back up again - it won't go on for much longer, super-strength sticky tape will be used once the novelty wears off! I'll be less amused if it pulls the paint of the recently painted walls. And candlelight is very romantic (but I hope the wax doesn't go go all over the new mantlepiece) Never mind, come boxing day I'll have changed my mind and be full of the spirit of the season! Now where did I put those chocolate tree decorations...?

The wheels on the bus

I have to confess to being a bit of a bus spotter (I can spot a Vanhool from a Scania at 100 meters) so I was sad to read about the end of the Routemaster on the streets of London. When I lived down there I much preferred to take the bus than the Tube and often used to take a route that used the old Routemasters rather than the modern pay-the-grumpy-driver buses. There was something special about crossing Westminster bridge and passing Big Ben on the number 12, although on a number of occasions I jumped off the back and crashed straight into a lampost! The reasons for getting rid (maintenance cost, health and safety etc.) are out numbered by the reasons why they should be kept, in my opinion. Of course their case isn't helped by the fact that they need two staff, driver and conductor (conductors being more friendly and helpful than drivers make this a plus if you ask me) I expect the accountants can't wait for the day when London transport can be controlled remotely from a call center in India! It's like trying to get rid of the yellow taxis in New York (not that I have ever been to New York, but I did experience a scary yellow taxi ride in Philadelphia last year), anyway, I expect it wouldn't be allowed. Perhaps to console myself I'll go and build a paper bus (and start thinking about something sensible to blog about)!

Televisual delights!

I was going to blog about how Sarah Beeny , Davina McCall and chocolate muffins all in one program make for a televisual delight. But then I would have to tell you that how I convinced the wife that even if Sarah Beeny and Davina McCall arrived together to feed me chocolate muffins I would turn them away. I pointed out it is 5 years tomorrow since we met. "Is it really, the 10th tomorrow" was her reply. "No, the 9th" said I, not surprised. "The 9th tomorrow?" asked she, "yes, the 9th of December, 5 years, tomorrow" said I. The wife's typically lovely reply was "Well, as the dwarf said to Snow White, it's not the length that matters, it's how good it is"! How could anyone compete with that?

And how are you today?

A note to all customer service operatives: when you phone me to try and get
my to spend my money on something I don't really want or need, asking me if
you can call me by my first name and then asking how I am today will not
make me any more likely to part with my money. Phoning just as I am sitting
down to eat will also not make me any more likely to listen to your whole
speech before I interrupt to tell you that I'm not interested thank you
anyway. I have nothing against you personally, I know you are only doing a
job, but I have to get this rant off my chest. Next time you phone me dear
credit card company and ask how I am today, you might just find out the
f*****g truth!

P.S. I have nothing against customer service people (the wife was one
herself for a time) I merely object to the companies that employ them to bug
me!

Thank you for your time today.

Bah Humbug

Is it just me or is anyone else sick of Christmas already? Every year the madness starts earlier - the traffic last night was chaos and unfortunately my journey takes me in the general area of the Metro Centre, a nightmare of a place at the best of times but full of Christmas shoppers it is hell on earth. Try finding a parking space anywhere near the city centre and you can kiss goodbye to getting to a meeting on time (how to make a good impression in your first week)! Three of the houses opposite our bedroom window are already illuminated and flashing incessantly and it is only a matter of time before the inflatable santa is trying to float down from the roof of a house around the corner. Fortunately I can come out of hiding at work as the christmas meal is booked and paid for and I have managed to avoid adding my name to the list (not the meal for which we were asked to sign up for in June - I deleted that email without even reading past the subject line). It's not that I don't want to go, I just can't afford it having not been paid since January. That and the 'secret santa'. I still haven't worked out who the person I had to buy for last year is and obviously who ever bought for me doesn't know me from Adam as I am still deciding if it is a table cloth or a shawl!

Perhaps my lack of enthusiasm for christmas is down to the fact that I'm not looking forward to the event itself in any way, shape or form after my Dads recent departure from the family. Christmas day was the only day in recent years when my parents, my brother and myself were all in the same place at the same time. Also, due to our respective family commitments the wife and I have to spend Christmas apart. Perhaps it is also due to the lack of small children in my family (for which my mother will only blame myself)! Christmas doesn't seem to have the same magic as it does when there a kids involved. Which reminds me that Christmas isn't all bad as I'm sure the kids on the wife's side of the family will be only to happy to help decorate the house and make mince pies!

So when is the last posting date for Christmas? No, not for posting cards but for ordering on the internet, you don't think I'm going near a shop do you!

The future's bright

When I first started my phd project many moons ago it was all so new and
exciting and I set out with the idea that I was going to change the world
(or at least come up with something useful to lessen the suffering of
generations to come). In reality this didn't happen (although someone
somewhere might find my work interesting one day, if only to stop them going
through the endless repetition of experiments that I went through). The
problem I now have is that, as much as I try to ignore it, that same feeling
of setting out to change the world keeps popping into my head. I can't help
wondering if every time I start a new project I'm going to have the same
ideas only to spend the next 3 years banging my head against a brick wall
and begging for funding to try something else (but I shall save the joys of
funding and contracts in the hallowed halls of academia for another post).
For now though I can't help feeling just a little bit excited!

Physical and mental anguish!

We were going to go away for a romantic weekend together this weekend but took one look at the weather forecast and decided to have a romantic weekend at home. The wife has a cold so hit the whiskey last night (for medicinal purposes of course) and it turned into one of those up half the night talking sessions. However judging by the muscles that are aching today it was the other half of the night that we enjoyed even more. Perhaps I'm not as fit as I thought I was!

Tomorrow I officially start my new job. The advantage over most new jobs is that I am still working in the same place as I have been for the last four years. As this means that I don't have to go through all the stress associated with being a newbie I can focus all my anxieties onto the fact that I should now know what I'm talking about. There is no longer the excuse of "I'm only a student so you can't expect me to know that yet" but I'm still not quite sure of what's expected of me as a post-doc. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before people work out that I don't really have a clue!

Love is blind (just not to damp walls)

Friday night is property night in the local paper and the wife is scouring the pages, the frustration starting to show. There has been some interest in the wifes house and one couple apparently said they had to speak to the bank first but they want to put in an offer but then the next day they said they were going to see somewhere else before deciding (I know they are only trying to get the best price but they are offending my wife)! We, in the mean time, have changed our minds on the house we have the offer on. It's still gorgeous (or will be once we have finished with it) but it is a bit out of the way and kind of small compared to what we could get for the money. I know, I know, we are a bit indecisive, but hey, we like to be difficult. In the mean time the wife is getting frustrated and my attempts at making her feel better demonstrate just how romantic she is. I bent down to kiss her and said "I don't care where we end up as long as we are together, a cardboard box would do" to which her reply was "not tonight it wouldn't, it's feckin freezing"!

Happy families

I'm back, life is returning to normal. I spent a few days visiting my mum
and couldn't be doing with the time it took to do anything using her steam
powered pc with a super-slow dial-up. The reason I was visiting her is
because my dad has decided to trade her in for a younger model. I'm not
going to start throwing insults around here but suffice to say he is not my
most favourite person at the moment. I have had to come home and can't help
worrying about mum. Occasionally I feel sorry for him as well but then
remember the way he is treating his family. The anger is starting to fade
but I'm not sure I'll ever be able to forgive his recent behavour.