Does persistent effort favor ultimate success?
Three more days of work this week, and I have to go to the office on all three of them. I'll have to dress nicely! I'll have to think of what to have for lunch! I'll have to talk to people in person! How will I cope?
When I started writing this, I had a whole saga about signing up for my cheese box subscription, and how the gift coupon wouldn't work, so I would never get my cheese, woe, never, ever, ever, but in the meantime I emailed the company and a lovely person sorted it out. I should get my first cheese box next week. I am so excited about this, I cannot tell you.
One day last week I was doing my morning workout. Arms and shoulders that day, so I was standing there, doing things with hand weights, when I saw something moving in the doorway. A little brown spider, as big as my thumbnail. It stopped in the doorway, looking in my direction, and we faced each other like gunslingers. It ran towards me. I stood my ground. It kept coming. I stayed. Still it came. Still I stayed. It ran on. I blinked first, f-list. I took a step to the left. The spider veered towards me. I stepped back to the right. The spider veered towards me. I stepped over the spider and looked back. It stopped.
Spider crisis over, I continued my workout. Eventually, I had to get on the floor. I checked for the spider, but couldn't see it. Safe to get down. Until I was holding the weight in the air and realised the spider was on it, running down it towards my hand. How? Can they teleport?
I gave the spider a gentle flick so it landed on the floor just as Alistair appeared in the doorway. He saw it land and pounced. It ran. He ran. The spider stopped under the desk. Alistair stopped under the desk and sat, folding his paws, looking at the spider, daring it to move. They were still there when I finished my workout and left the room.
Honestly, the spider was definitely aiming for me. It must have thought I was a funny sort of tree.
A fews days late, but who's counting? Friday 5 for January 22: Every family has one
Who’s the nastiest flavo(u)r in the ice cream parlo(u)r?
Well. I don't particularly enjoy ice cream, so all of them? No, that's not really true. Maybe once or twice a year I will get an ice cream cone from one of the local ice creameries (not parlours), particularly if they have a stall at the farmers' market, and it's quite nice. But it will be a cold day in hell before I try the liquorice flavoured one.
Which item in the produce aisle is most likely to spoil the party?
At the moment, because of the humidity, I am having trouble with stone fruit. Love it, lot of it about, spoils quickly. (Update: I actually wrote this on Saturday, but didn't get round to posting it. On Sunday, Kim Next Door told me that the humidity is making her nectarines spoil on the tree before they ripen. Boo, humidity.)
What’s the most embarrassing song by your favorite musician or band?
I don't know about embarrassing or favourite, but I generally like the collected works of REM, while absolutely loathing "Everybody Hurts". It's right up there with "The Little Drummer Boy" on my Songs I Never Want To Hear Again playlist. That's a hypothetical playlist, obviously, because I have no reason to make it.
Which part of your body is always in trouble?
It used to be my Achilles tendons, but wearing flat shoes and putting padded heel supports in them fixed that right up; then my left knee, but supporting that with a cushion at night has help that enormously. These days it's my right shoulder, which I hurt a couple of years ago and still don't have full movement in. It doesn't hurt; it just doesn't move. So I can lift my arm above my head when I'm standing, but not when I'm lying down. I couldn't make snow angels, for example; or rather, I could, but the right wing would start level with my shoulder.
What’s the worst film in your favorite actor’s* filmography? (* "actor" as a non-gender-specific term)
I don't know that I have a favourite actor, but I am generally well-disposed to Natalie Portman. She plays an unlikeable lead role in a very silly rom com called No Strings Attached. (Googling to check the name of the film just now, I found an article saying Ashton Kutcher was paid three times as much as her for his role in it. No wonder she looked miserable.)
When I started writing this, I had a whole saga about signing up for my cheese box subscription, and how the gift coupon wouldn't work, so I would never get my cheese, woe, never, ever, ever, but in the meantime I emailed the company and a lovely person sorted it out. I should get my first cheese box next week. I am so excited about this, I cannot tell you.
One day last week I was doing my morning workout. Arms and shoulders that day, so I was standing there, doing things with hand weights, when I saw something moving in the doorway. A little brown spider, as big as my thumbnail. It stopped in the doorway, looking in my direction, and we faced each other like gunslingers. It ran towards me. I stood my ground. It kept coming. I stayed. Still it came. Still I stayed. It ran on. I blinked first, f-list. I took a step to the left. The spider veered towards me. I stepped back to the right. The spider veered towards me. I stepped over the spider and looked back. It stopped.
Spider crisis over, I continued my workout. Eventually, I had to get on the floor. I checked for the spider, but couldn't see it. Safe to get down. Until I was holding the weight in the air and realised the spider was on it, running down it towards my hand. How? Can they teleport?
I gave the spider a gentle flick so it landed on the floor just as Alistair appeared in the doorway. He saw it land and pounced. It ran. He ran. The spider stopped under the desk. Alistair stopped under the desk and sat, folding his paws, looking at the spider, daring it to move. They were still there when I finished my workout and left the room.
Honestly, the spider was definitely aiming for me. It must have thought I was a funny sort of tree.
A fews days late, but who's counting? Friday 5 for January 22: Every family has one
Who’s the nastiest flavo(u)r in the ice cream parlo(u)r?
Well. I don't particularly enjoy ice cream, so all of them? No, that's not really true. Maybe once or twice a year I will get an ice cream cone from one of the local ice creameries (not parlours), particularly if they have a stall at the farmers' market, and it's quite nice. But it will be a cold day in hell before I try the liquorice flavoured one.
Which item in the produce aisle is most likely to spoil the party?
At the moment, because of the humidity, I am having trouble with stone fruit. Love it, lot of it about, spoils quickly. (Update: I actually wrote this on Saturday, but didn't get round to posting it. On Sunday, Kim Next Door told me that the humidity is making her nectarines spoil on the tree before they ripen. Boo, humidity.)
What’s the most embarrassing song by your favorite musician or band?
I don't know about embarrassing or favourite, but I generally like the collected works of REM, while absolutely loathing "Everybody Hurts". It's right up there with "The Little Drummer Boy" on my Songs I Never Want To Hear Again playlist. That's a hypothetical playlist, obviously, because I have no reason to make it.
Which part of your body is always in trouble?
It used to be my Achilles tendons, but wearing flat shoes and putting padded heel supports in them fixed that right up; then my left knee, but supporting that with a cushion at night has help that enormously. These days it's my right shoulder, which I hurt a couple of years ago and still don't have full movement in. It doesn't hurt; it just doesn't move. So I can lift my arm above my head when I'm standing, but not when I'm lying down. I couldn't make snow angels, for example; or rather, I could, but the right wing would start level with my shoulder.
What’s the worst film in your favorite actor’s* filmography? (* "actor" as a non-gender-specific term)
I don't know that I have a favourite actor, but I am generally well-disposed to Natalie Portman. She plays an unlikeable lead role in a very silly rom com called No Strings Attached. (Googling to check the name of the film just now, I found an article saying Ashton Kutcher was paid three times as much as her for his role in it. No wonder she looked miserable.)