I'm eating leftover homemade spetzla with onion gravy for lunch and drinking Franziskaner, but that's not important right now. The key here is, what should I name my new bakery?
I know I asked you this before, but I've narrowed it down to 3 finalists, so I'm going to smoke one more pole. I mean poll. Yeah. (And no, I am not so think as you drunk I am in the diddle of the may.)
To give y'all my thoughts on the finalists, I'd like to construct a handy table, but blogger is not big on tables, so you'll just have to plow though the nicely laid-out text. Here goes.
KINGFISHER CAKES
Cons: What the fuck have fish got to do with cakes? We're not talking fish-flavoured cakes here, are we?
Pros: No we're bloody not. The kingfisher is a symbol of unspoilt countryside. It suggests beauty, purity, and a bit of sparkle. It's elusive, and therefore a bit magical. Cakes should be beautiful, sparkle, and be a little magical. You get it now?
CORONATION CAKES
Pros: Suggests big, grand celebrations. Evokes images of big ball gowns and stuff covered in gold. Majestic, gradiose, royal. Everything a cake should be.
Cons: The last coronation was in 1953. The word 'coronation' resurrects memories of stuffy, awful, 1950s cuisine, doilies, old women in clunky shoes, and chunks of chicken covered in gloopy, yellow mayonaise. And a god-awful, long-running soap opera.
CONFETTI CAKES
Pros: Nothing says 'party' like confetti! Except maybe cakes. Cheerful, colorful, light, and whimsical. Everything a cake should be.
Cons: Not quite as distinctive as the other two. Harder to spell. (Is that one 'f' and two 'ts' or two 'fs' and one 't'?)
So what d'y'all think? Comments in the usual place, vote in the sidebar on the left.
Showing posts with label HALP. Show all posts
Showing posts with label HALP. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Haunted
I figured out what was wrong with me.
The house is killing me.
Here's how it works. Do you remember the incident last October, shortly after we moved in, when the whole left side of my face ballooned up and my eye was swollen shut for 3 days and the doctors (yes, plural) never did figure out what caused it? They couldn't figure out if it was bacterial, viral, or an allergic reaction to some environmental factor, and it was getting worse so rapidly there wasn't time to try different medications in succession (also, I was half blind and itching like i had fleas in my eyeballs), so they put me on antibiotics, antivirals, AND antihistemines all at once. One of them worked because I began to get better shortly thereafter, but it's still a medical mystery.
Now bear in mind that we moved in here on September 20, I immediately got a head cold, and then the eye thing started on October 5.
Please also bear in mind that all last autumn I had one head cold after another, such that we estimate I've been sick about 50% of the time since we got married.
Except for the 6 weeks I was stuck in Michigan waiting on my spousal visa. For those 6 weeks I was completely fine; not a sniffle.
I got back home to Cornwall at the end of January, and within two weeks I had another mysterious illness. This is the short version:
Friday: sore throat
Early Saturday morning: most painful sore throat in history of humanity, body aches all over, throbbing pounding headache. Essentially pain. Ultimately, the only symptom I had was pain. Conspicuously absent: fever, congestion, sneezing, coughing, runny nose, or ANYTHING that might indicate a viral or bacterial infection.
Sunday: Body ache gone, throat still sore but sufficiently better that I can eat solid food again, headache more bearable but still present.
Today (Monday): Sore throat all but gone, headache back with a vengeance, accompanied by mild nausea.
This morning I walked to the pharmacy to buy some of the effervescent cocodamo*l tablets the nurse on the NHS helpline told me about on sunday morning. My throat was better, but i'm not convinced it won't happen again, so i decide it's a good idea to have some in the house.
My head was throbbing. It didn't hurt more if i bent over or looked down, but as soon as i straightened up again it felt like someone was driving a railroad spike into my brain stem. I thought my brain would explode from the pressure. The ferocity of the pain was such that I actually cried out loud a couple of times while walking home. I wasn't sure I would make it. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other and eventually I got home. (It's only one bloody mile.)
I decided to take one dose of the cocodamol for the headache. It helped the headache, but gave me a mild psychotic reaction. I was utterly convinced for 3 hours that there was someone else in the room with me, and i was being WATCHED. I can't tell you how freaky this is. Thankfully about 3% of my brain was holding down the sanity fort and constantly reminding me that I was alone, in no danger, and this was clearly a reaction to the drug.
So what the fuck caused me to have an incredibly sore, swollen, inflamed throat and migraine-level headache pain with no other sign of infection? The House.
Think about it. Shortly after we move in i get some weird, undiagnosable condition. I am sick on and off the entire autumn. I leave for Christmas and enjoy 6 weeks of perfect health. I return and within 2 weeks (roughly the same amount of time between moving in last September and the first medical crisis) I have some other weird, undiagnosable condition. Unless someone else out there has had a bout of tonsilitis that lasted 2 days and went away on its own, my leading theory right now is that there is some environmental factor in the house that's making me ill.
Am I crazy? It just seems unlikely that this is a coincidence.
Pirate is not affected by it, but I'm in the house ALL THE TIME, whereas he only comes here to eat, shag, and sleep. He's out for 12 hours a day at work. I'm not. I'm here, dying by inches.
I've dismissed CO, as we have a dector that says there's no CO in the house.
I've dismissed radon, even though Cornwall is full of it, because radon toxicity takes years of exposure to produce symptoms.
Right now I'm thinking some kind of mold or fungus. I shall begin to investigate and see what I turn up.
*Tylenol 3 with codeine, and it's available over the counter here. Take that, you sorry Americans!
The house is killing me.
Here's how it works. Do you remember the incident last October, shortly after we moved in, when the whole left side of my face ballooned up and my eye was swollen shut for 3 days and the doctors (yes, plural) never did figure out what caused it? They couldn't figure out if it was bacterial, viral, or an allergic reaction to some environmental factor, and it was getting worse so rapidly there wasn't time to try different medications in succession (also, I was half blind and itching like i had fleas in my eyeballs), so they put me on antibiotics, antivirals, AND antihistemines all at once. One of them worked because I began to get better shortly thereafter, but it's still a medical mystery.
Now bear in mind that we moved in here on September 20, I immediately got a head cold, and then the eye thing started on October 5.
Please also bear in mind that all last autumn I had one head cold after another, such that we estimate I've been sick about 50% of the time since we got married.
Except for the 6 weeks I was stuck in Michigan waiting on my spousal visa. For those 6 weeks I was completely fine; not a sniffle.
I got back home to Cornwall at the end of January, and within two weeks I had another mysterious illness. This is the short version:
Friday: sore throat
Early Saturday morning: most painful sore throat in history of humanity, body aches all over, throbbing pounding headache. Essentially pain. Ultimately, the only symptom I had was pain. Conspicuously absent: fever, congestion, sneezing, coughing, runny nose, or ANYTHING that might indicate a viral or bacterial infection.
Sunday: Body ache gone, throat still sore but sufficiently better that I can eat solid food again, headache more bearable but still present.
Today (Monday): Sore throat all but gone, headache back with a vengeance, accompanied by mild nausea.
This morning I walked to the pharmacy to buy some of the effervescent cocodamo*l tablets the nurse on the NHS helpline told me about on sunday morning. My throat was better, but i'm not convinced it won't happen again, so i decide it's a good idea to have some in the house.
My head was throbbing. It didn't hurt more if i bent over or looked down, but as soon as i straightened up again it felt like someone was driving a railroad spike into my brain stem. I thought my brain would explode from the pressure. The ferocity of the pain was such that I actually cried out loud a couple of times while walking home. I wasn't sure I would make it. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other and eventually I got home. (It's only one bloody mile.)
I decided to take one dose of the cocodamol for the headache. It helped the headache, but gave me a mild psychotic reaction. I was utterly convinced for 3 hours that there was someone else in the room with me, and i was being WATCHED. I can't tell you how freaky this is. Thankfully about 3% of my brain was holding down the sanity fort and constantly reminding me that I was alone, in no danger, and this was clearly a reaction to the drug.
So what the fuck caused me to have an incredibly sore, swollen, inflamed throat and migraine-level headache pain with no other sign of infection? The House.
Think about it. Shortly after we move in i get some weird, undiagnosable condition. I am sick on and off the entire autumn. I leave for Christmas and enjoy 6 weeks of perfect health. I return and within 2 weeks (roughly the same amount of time between moving in last September and the first medical crisis) I have some other weird, undiagnosable condition. Unless someone else out there has had a bout of tonsilitis that lasted 2 days and went away on its own, my leading theory right now is that there is some environmental factor in the house that's making me ill.
Am I crazy? It just seems unlikely that this is a coincidence.
Pirate is not affected by it, but I'm in the house ALL THE TIME, whereas he only comes here to eat, shag, and sleep. He's out for 12 hours a day at work. I'm not. I'm here, dying by inches.
I've dismissed CO, as we have a dector that says there's no CO in the house.
I've dismissed radon, even though Cornwall is full of it, because radon toxicity takes years of exposure to produce symptoms.
Right now I'm thinking some kind of mold or fungus. I shall begin to investigate and see what I turn up.
*Tylenol 3 with codeine, and it's available over the counter here. Take that, you sorry Americans!
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Good News, Bad News
The good news is we're getting a cat! I feel kinda bad because Pirate really, REALLY wanted a kitten,* but we went to the other local animal shelter on Friday and absolutely fell in love. He's brown and white with really striking markings, very fluffy, is 2 years old, prone to urinary tract infections, is incredibly friendly and cuddly, and his name is Fred.
The shelter doesn't know much about his history as he was brought in as a stray, but he's waaaay to friendly with people to have been born stray. I suspect he was dumped by an owner who couldn't cope with his bladder problems.
But the good people at the shelter have got his problems under control, and assure us that all he needs is to be fed a special diet and he should be fine. I'm sure he'll still have the occassional flare-up, but I'll watch his litter closely and get his urine tested every 6 months or so, which is no big deal at all.
So after we visited him I decided I was completely in love with him, and I looked at Pirate with big, doleful eyes and he gave in. He's such a good man, but i do feel a bit guilty. I've promised him that after Fred is all settled in we will look for a kitten. Someone seriously needs a kitten. Bless.
And now for The Bad News.
I am sick as a dog. I don't know what's wrong, but I have the worst sore throat in human history. The throat started Friday afternoon, and by the small hours saturday morning my whole body was in agony. My head was pounding, my throat was so sore I couldn't sip water without extreme discomfort, and every muscle and joint in my body ached. I could barely move. I spent the day lying on the couch and moaning.
Today I am a little better. The body aches have subsided somehwat, so I'm more comfortable than I was yesterday, but everything above my collar bone still hurts like a bitch: my head is pounding, and when i swallow it feels like someone is choking me to death and the pain goes right up my ear canals. I've managed to eat a scrambled egg, 2 popsicles, and 2 glasses of apple juice. That's since Friday night, and now it's sunday morning. Pirate tried to get me to drink some Lemsip** but hot things make my throat hurt more and after it cooled it was so disgusting i gagged and almost threw up. Oh yeah, I've had some nausea and stomach cramping as well.
Clearly I am dying.
Does anyone know a disease that is characterized by an incredibly sore throat and massive body aches? Cuz really, if it wasn't for all the pain I'm in, I would just have a slight stuffy nose and that would be it. I'm seriosuly wondering if it's not my tonsils. This is truly not your run-of-the-mill sore throat.
Oh yeah, there's more: Pirate got contacts!
It's very strange. Normally the only time I see him without his glasses is when we're making love, and therefore I find it a huge turn-on when he takes them off, because I know what it foretells. But now he's wearing contacts and every time I look at him I think I'm about to get some. If I wasn't in so much fucking pain I'd be the most turned-on woman in the western world right about now.
*"self-propelled balls of entertaiment" according to Pirate
**Theraflu to you Yanks
The shelter doesn't know much about his history as he was brought in as a stray, but he's waaaay to friendly with people to have been born stray. I suspect he was dumped by an owner who couldn't cope with his bladder problems.
But the good people at the shelter have got his problems under control, and assure us that all he needs is to be fed a special diet and he should be fine. I'm sure he'll still have the occassional flare-up, but I'll watch his litter closely and get his urine tested every 6 months or so, which is no big deal at all.
So after we visited him I decided I was completely in love with him, and I looked at Pirate with big, doleful eyes and he gave in. He's such a good man, but i do feel a bit guilty. I've promised him that after Fred is all settled in we will look for a kitten. Someone seriously needs a kitten. Bless.
And now for The Bad News.
I am sick as a dog. I don't know what's wrong, but I have the worst sore throat in human history. The throat started Friday afternoon, and by the small hours saturday morning my whole body was in agony. My head was pounding, my throat was so sore I couldn't sip water without extreme discomfort, and every muscle and joint in my body ached. I could barely move. I spent the day lying on the couch and moaning.
Today I am a little better. The body aches have subsided somehwat, so I'm more comfortable than I was yesterday, but everything above my collar bone still hurts like a bitch: my head is pounding, and when i swallow it feels like someone is choking me to death and the pain goes right up my ear canals. I've managed to eat a scrambled egg, 2 popsicles, and 2 glasses of apple juice. That's since Friday night, and now it's sunday morning. Pirate tried to get me to drink some Lemsip** but hot things make my throat hurt more and after it cooled it was so disgusting i gagged and almost threw up. Oh yeah, I've had some nausea and stomach cramping as well.
Clearly I am dying.
Does anyone know a disease that is characterized by an incredibly sore throat and massive body aches? Cuz really, if it wasn't for all the pain I'm in, I would just have a slight stuffy nose and that would be it. I'm seriosuly wondering if it's not my tonsils. This is truly not your run-of-the-mill sore throat.
Oh yeah, there's more: Pirate got contacts!
It's very strange. Normally the only time I see him without his glasses is when we're making love, and therefore I find it a huge turn-on when he takes them off, because I know what it foretells. But now he's wearing contacts and every time I look at him I think I'm about to get some. If I wasn't in so much fucking pain I'd be the most turned-on woman in the western world right about now.
*"self-propelled balls of entertaiment" according to Pirate
**Theraflu to you Yanks
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Back in the USS...A?
Pirate and I are leaving tonight for the Land of W (soon to be the Land of O). I don't know when I'll be back, because I have to get my spousal visa while I'm there, and the British Consulate give absolutely no indication of how long that takes. It might take 2 days, in which case I'll be coming home with Pirate on January 3rd, or it might take 6 weeks, in which case I'll be missing my own 30th Birthday/Innauguration joint party. I have no idea.
It's going to be an absolutely manic holiday, what with travelling to Wisconsin to visit my brother, fighting the snow on the roads and airports, PIRATE'S parents flying over from England to spend a week with my family, Bridesmaid Vi, husband Wally, son Smally Wally and Big Wally's parents all visiting from Massachusetts during the same week the Pirates-in-law will around, and my visa excitement thrown in on top of that. Blogging may or may not occur. Most likely I'll lurk and read your blogs when I get a few quiet minutes to myself, but I don't know that I'll have the ambition to write much.
Unless I'm in desperate need of catharsis, which is always a possibility.
And at FN's request, here is a photo for your enjoyment:
Merry Christmas, y'all!
It's going to be an absolutely manic holiday, what with travelling to Wisconsin to visit my brother, fighting the snow on the roads and airports, PIRATE'S parents flying over from England to spend a week with my family, Bridesmaid Vi, husband Wally, son Smally Wally and Big Wally's parents all visiting from Massachusetts during the same week the Pirates-in-law will around, and my visa excitement thrown in on top of that. Blogging may or may not occur. Most likely I'll lurk and read your blogs when I get a few quiet minutes to myself, but I don't know that I'll have the ambition to write much.
Unless I'm in desperate need of catharsis, which is always a possibility.
And at FN's request, here is a photo for your enjoyment:
Merry Christmas, y'all!
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Announcement: I'm quitting rowing
(I think.)
I've had it. I've just had enough.
I work and work and work and work and get fuck all back. In the last 4 years I've been in 6 races, only 1 of those in the past 18 months. And now I have no prospect of racing this season.
I train and train, but don't get any closer to my goals, because my goals are competitions and I don't have the chance to compete. Even losing would be better. At least if I lost I would have had a fighting chance. As it is, I don't even have that much. And now there is no prospect of racing in the future.
Fuck it all.
There is still the slightest chance I may yet find a doubles partner for Women's Henley Regatta, but that is becoming slimmer by the day.
So I've told Bristol to put it where the sun don't shine, and I've joined a local club. They're friendly, and they have some nice equipment. I will pass the summer paddling around the Bristol docks in a single, and hopefully enjoy some summer sunshine, keep myself in shape, and maybe get a bit of a tan.
And come the end of the summer, September, the wedding, and all those other life changes, I will hang up the blades for good. I will not look for a rowing club in Plymouth. There is one, but it's crap, the water is crap, and there's no good competition down that way. So it would just be more the fucking same, and I can't face that.
When I get to Plymouth I will attempt something I've always wanted to do: martial arts.
I've had the chance to take karate lessons a few times over the years, and I always wanted to give it a go, but I've never had the time. I was always committed to my rowing schedule. So now I'm going to give myself the time. I'll try to find a decent karate or judo or tae kwan do studio. It will help keep me in shape, it will be new and exciting, it will be good way to work out aggression and frustration (a mental health benefit rowing has always provided me which is a key to my sanity), and I like the idea of an activity where I get to beat the crap out of people. That has a lot of appeal right now. A lot of appeal.
It's been a difficult decision. I never thought I could turn my back on something I love so much. It scares me that I'm capable of that kind of mind-shift. But it doesn't feel like i've turned my back on it, it feels more like it's turned its back on me.
But of course, as an athlete, you have it drummed in that winners never quit and quitters never win. I'm not a quitter. I'm a winner. I don't quit. Ever. I don't give up. But how is this not giving up?
Shouldn't I be more determined than ever? Shouldn't I go to Plymouth and start my own club, if that's what it takes? Shouldn't I do everything in my power to keep going?
When does that cross the line into stupidity? When do determination, commitment, and perseverance become shouting at a brick wall?
How can I quit and still face myself in the morning?
But how can I keep going, when it's ceased to be a joy and become nothing but a burden? When does it all stop being worth the constant mental and physical struggle? How can I walk away and keep my self respect?
I've had it. I've just had enough.
I work and work and work and work and get fuck all back. In the last 4 years I've been in 6 races, only 1 of those in the past 18 months. And now I have no prospect of racing this season.
I train and train, but don't get any closer to my goals, because my goals are competitions and I don't have the chance to compete. Even losing would be better. At least if I lost I would have had a fighting chance. As it is, I don't even have that much. And now there is no prospect of racing in the future.
Fuck it all.
There is still the slightest chance I may yet find a doubles partner for Women's Henley Regatta, but that is becoming slimmer by the day.
So I've told Bristol to put it where the sun don't shine, and I've joined a local club. They're friendly, and they have some nice equipment. I will pass the summer paddling around the Bristol docks in a single, and hopefully enjoy some summer sunshine, keep myself in shape, and maybe get a bit of a tan.
And come the end of the summer, September, the wedding, and all those other life changes, I will hang up the blades for good. I will not look for a rowing club in Plymouth. There is one, but it's crap, the water is crap, and there's no good competition down that way. So it would just be more the fucking same, and I can't face that.
When I get to Plymouth I will attempt something I've always wanted to do: martial arts.
I've had the chance to take karate lessons a few times over the years, and I always wanted to give it a go, but I've never had the time. I was always committed to my rowing schedule. So now I'm going to give myself the time. I'll try to find a decent karate or judo or tae kwan do studio. It will help keep me in shape, it will be new and exciting, it will be good way to work out aggression and frustration (a mental health benefit rowing has always provided me which is a key to my sanity), and I like the idea of an activity where I get to beat the crap out of people. That has a lot of appeal right now. A lot of appeal.
It's been a difficult decision. I never thought I could turn my back on something I love so much. It scares me that I'm capable of that kind of mind-shift. But it doesn't feel like i've turned my back on it, it feels more like it's turned its back on me.
But of course, as an athlete, you have it drummed in that winners never quit and quitters never win. I'm not a quitter. I'm a winner. I don't quit. Ever. I don't give up. But how is this not giving up?
Shouldn't I be more determined than ever? Shouldn't I go to Plymouth and start my own club, if that's what it takes? Shouldn't I do everything in my power to keep going?
When does that cross the line into stupidity? When do determination, commitment, and perseverance become shouting at a brick wall?
How can I quit and still face myself in the morning?
But how can I keep going, when it's ceased to be a joy and become nothing but a burden? When does it all stop being worth the constant mental and physical struggle? How can I walk away and keep my self respect?
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