Valencia…Que?

This blogging lark is a strange caper. We online literary hopefuls tap-tap-tap away in the hopes that people (that’s you – in case you were wondering) will read all about our passions, woes and little foibles, whilst wondering what the perfect recipe will be to whet your appetite.

Anyhow for those of you uninitiated in the delights of blogging oneself happy, I think I speak for the majority when I say we bloggers love a stat or two. How many visitors pop in to check things out, where they come from (geographically and virtually) and which posts they read can add an elated squeal, a puzzled frown or, more often than not, a combination of both.  

A little while back, I decided to add my Top 5 Posts for the Week to the Gidday From The UK home page. It was a little experiment to see what Gidday-ers were reading each week and also designed to offer anyone with a little reading time on their hands, a quickie guide to my most popular posts.  

As you would expect, the most recent posts appear. Of late, both Did Somebody Mention Christmas? and 3 Sleeps To Go…A Little Pre-Christmas Cheer (from 2010 and 2011 respectively) have popped up. 

(Let’s face it, the man in the red suit arrives in 74 sleeps and Gidday has probably appeared in a few early – rather too early for my liking – festive searches.)

But there are times when I find myself at a loss to understand why a particular post suddenly appears. 

I mean what’s with the sudden surge of interest in Valencia?

Is there something happening over there that, being the Metro-less traveller that I’ve been this week, has passed me by? 

Is it football? Spanish flu? Last minute holiday deals? Or a sudden political scandal?

Can anyone shed a little light on this conundrum?

2 Sleeps To Go…Life’s Spanner

Today it’s Monday. July 30th. That’s 2 sleeps to go.

2 sleeps before the day of moi on August 1st.

And life, in its own inevitable manner, has thrown a spanner in the works.

You see, I have been quarantined since last Thursday with chickenpox.

I mean really. Chickenpox for goodness sake! Surely that’s for children? That mysterious illness that mothers in my acquaintance are charged with managing in their various little ones.  And then see fit to regale all in proximity about its trials and tribulations thereby forcing me to maintain my sympathetic and concerned face for longer than 5 minutes.

(I would like to point out here that I can do sympathetic and concerned but sustained effort in this area is not my forte. As my friends know, I can be brutal with my ‘suck it up princess’ philosophy of deaing with life’s hard knocks.)

And yet here I am, forced to keep my own company, no-one to soothe my fevered brow while this virulent virus makes its way through the various stages of its frolic around my immune system. Snap!

This was not my plan. I had imagined quite a carefree week to finish my 42nd year on the planet. Filled with laughter, amusing repartee and kindly reminders of sleeps to go and shopping days remaining for you all. 

But the spanner arrived. So I have focused on doing the right things and riding this sucker out in the hopes of being fit for company (read work) again come my big day. I mean I have birthday yummies to share and the alternatives sans company are either gluttony or waste. And while I am of the school of ‘waste not want not’ (or as my mother called it ‘ the starving children in Africa’ who can quite frankly have ALL of my peas and brussel sprouts), a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips is definitely no fairytale.

2 sleeps to go peeps. Time for someone else to have the spanner.

A+ For Creativity…

In previous posts I have been known to bemoan the less than extraordinary output managed by today’s educational systems. Whether they be the formal or informal, academic or the University of Life, it has seemed that perhaps something has gone awry and that we are not preparing the current – or for that matter future – generations as we should…and I use the term ‘we’ loosely to mean society in general.

As far as I can see, there’s something of a dichotomy going on at the moment.

There’s the over-arching drive to get that all-important (and increasingly expensive) university place, although it doesn’t always seem to be pursued as a heart-felt vocational calling but rather as an experience or a rite of passage before entering the ‘big bad world’.

And then there’s a worship of role models who come sans academia – the self-made men made Lords, the single-minded stars of the sporting arena, and those in the pages of the weeklies who seem to be celebrated for…well…being.

So where does education fit in? How do we line up the roles that society has created with an education system at odds with fulfilling them? And what happens to those that fall somewhere in between talent and narcissism?

Just when you thought that this post was turning into another rant on the state of the world, I want to take a pause to share a demonstration of the very mismatch I speak of.

The following is a selection of exam questions and answers provided by one particular student:

Q In which Battle did Napoleon die?
A His last one

Q What is the main reason for divorce?
A Marriage

Q If you threw a red stone into the Blue Sea, what would it become?
A Simply a wet stone

Q If it took eight men 10 hours to build a wall, how long would it take four men?
A No time at all. The wall was already built.

Q How can you drop a raw egg onto a concrete floor without cracking it?
A Any way you want because a concrete floor is very hard to crack.

The teacher obviously saw the funny side and noted A+ for creativity…and the student failed the test.

So whether you’ve chuckled at their chutzpah or despaired at their defiance, the question remains: how do we engage this clearly clever mind in contributing something valuable, meaningful, worthwhile to the world at large?

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Now just before you race off to ply sons, daughters, nieces, nephews, grandkids and/or the neighbours’ offspring with a raft of serious and thought-provoking questions on the matter, in the spirit of true narcissism and self-absorption, I must remind you that there are only 7 sleeps to go until Society’s Celebration of little ol’ moi is upon us. Not many shopping days left peeps…are you ready?

Summery Sundays…

It’s Sunday.

A lazy, mooch-about with A-used-to-be-down-the-hill Sunday.

And it’s a gloriously sunny Sunday here at Gidday HQ.

Yes, you heard read right.

The sky is brilliantly blue, the sun’s rays fierce in their determination to make up for lost (British Summer) time.

And there have been a couple of squatters on the back patio for the second time in as many weekends.

We even had to put the umbrella up to protect our delicate Australian  hangovers skin!

Don’t look now but it might be summer at last!

Shhhhh….wouldn’t want to scare it away again…

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ps…and there’s only 10 sleeps to go ’til the big day peeps. That’s right – only 10. You can count down using only your fingers now…

Speechless

In the midst of preparations for last weekend’s Gidday Soiree, I took a break and went to Sadlers Wells to see Matthew Bourne’s Play Without Words. This was both my first Bourne and even more remarkably, given my love of dance, my first visit to Sadlers Wells. And apart from it being another bonza deal unearthed during my daily travels, Sadlers Wells is an easy commute down the Northern Line from Gidday HQ so I suspect that this cultural pocket of London will feature amongst my erstwhile ramblings a little more often.

Anyhow, Play Without Words is set in London in the early Sixties and is based on Robin Maugham‘s novel, The Servant. The action starts as we see leading man, Anthony (all 3 of them) sign the lease on a swanky new pad. He hires manservant Prentice (3 of them), a maid Sheila (only 2 of these), meets up with an old friend and then hosts a party with his glacial financee Glenda (yes, 3 of these too) by his side.

Image sourced from http://www.sadlerswells.com

The trios and duos interweave to show the same character captured in three different moments in time, adding power and depth to the wordless storytelling.  There’s friction and frostiness as the relationship between Anthony and Glenda disintegrates. There’s wit and clever visual repartee as Prentice and Sheila insinuate themselves into the household. And there’s sizzle and sexual tension and lust and betrayal – and I LOVED IT!

But more than anything, it’s Bourne’s visionary eye that makes this a seamless and sensual masterpiece. I was entertained, uplifted, moved and thrilled…and determined I’d be back for more.

So as I left, I picked up the program for the rest of the year and amongst the turned-down page corners, you’ll find the San Francisco Ballet, the Rambert Dance Company, Paco Pena and…yes you guessed it, Matthew Bourne and his world premiere of Sleeping Beauty.

It might be baked beans on toast for a while should I let myself indulge in this passion.

Now where is my debit card?


If you are in London between now and August 5th, make sure you get along and see Play Without Words. I kid you not – it’s absolutely brilliant! And I even got an Editor’s Choice for my review on Weekend Notes.

ps…if you’ve been under a rock ignoring me not reading my posts all the way to the end, Birthday Number 43 is fast approaching. You are down to only 13 shopping days peeps so let’s make that a lucky 13 shall we? Don’t let a little superstition get in the way of celebrating…well…me.

 

Gidday Soiree…A Hat Trick Of Birthdays

The inaugural Gidday soiree is done. My guests have left replete with good food, an indiscriminate amount of wine and feisty yet flowing conversation.

Le outdoor setting (or patio furniture as my American compatriate at work calls it) did me proud and the skies, while not exactly blue and sunshine-y, kept to themselves with not a drop of rain falling. That’s a minor miracle in itself given the past few weeks.

(Although as I woke this morning after yesterday’s intermittent and torrential rain, I do believe I closed my eyes and whispered ‘oh please just let it be dry!’ Maybe someone was listening.)

It has inspired me to do more of this. I have to say that I rather enjoyed having visitors to fuss over, deliberating over the menu during the week prior to strike the balance of both the ‘right’ quantity and trying out some new things.

(There was a chilli, cheese and corn loaf and some savoury rolls – basically a soft cheese mixture and some other ingredients wrapped in pita bread, chilled overnight and sliced – which were both newcomers to the party.)

It was also an opportunity to use my ‘stuff’. You know the stuff I mean. You have some of this yourself. For me it was my Oma’s crockery, my Mum’s tea set (for the coffee) and, being a cup short, even a lone Royal Doulton cup and saucer for the fifth of our party.

Having the room at the new Gidday HQ for all of this to have been unpacked from the boxes that were their home for 6 and a half years is absolutely brilliant. Now it’s all just an arms reach away on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard.

I’m extremely proud to say that the only thing not Gidday-Made was the chocolate cake, collected from the local Polish store round the corner this morning, to celebrate our three birthdays.

Which brings me neatly to a reminder that there are only 17 sleeps to go until my big day. Celebrations may have started today at Gidday HQ but this doesn’t mean you’re off the hook peeps.

Not by a long shot!

Earn While You Burn…

There seems to be a bit of a theme developing what with London 2012 fast approaching.

Not only have I been mugging hugging torch bearers (OK just one then and it was before he was fired up and running) but last week I discovered some clever kinetics appearing underfoot during my commute.

In the continued spirit of running (or trotting briskly if you prefer), I have come across another brilliant idea, this time from Nike

It would appear that those south of the border (down Mexico way) have designed a pair of clever clogs…literally.

Apparently the more ground you cover, the more currency you earn. Which you get to spend by bidding for things on their auction page.

It’s called Subasta de Kilometros (Auction of Kilometres).

I wonder what I could buy for a gentle stroll?

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A Special Sleeps To Go Alert: 
Did you realise that there are only 19 sleeps to go until Birthday Number 43 arrives and waves its magic wand to…well…who believes in fairy stories anyway. But the rules say it’s the one day of the year where it’s all about me so get your skates on peeps…I’ll be expecting a little celebratory sparkle.

Your 2012 Five A Day – July

It’s July already and the sleeps to go count down will be starting soon. How have you been enjoying your Summer so far? Here in the UK, the festival season is off to a traditional start. 

After a rather damp River Pageant to mark Her Majesty’s Diamond Jubilee at the beginning of the month (which left The Royal Husband with a urinary tract infection), the pee-ing down continued with the Isle of Wight festival being a bit of a mudbath last weekend, giving all those Surrey-shiny Hunter Wellies the chance for a proper outing.

Speaking of pee-ing, this month’s Violent Veg sees the return of Colin Carrot who, having recovered from his brush with danger with the little ones, has this month decided to live life on the edge…

So have a fab July pea-ps!

(Geddit? Pea-ps instead of peeps?)

Oh and there are only 31 sleeps to go…just in case you were wondering…)

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3 Sleeps To Go…A Little Pre-Christmas Cheer

This week I have been in and out of central London to meet with friends for a spot of Christmas cheer. There’s something about Christmas lights that make things all glistening and beautiful and so I wanted to share a little of this week’s Christmas sparkle with those of you who have spent 2011 following the Gidday journey.

If you remember, my meanderings began with 20 sleeps to go and a wide-eyed wander down Oxford Street.

Creating Christmas magic in Oxford Street

And last week I was dashing down Regent Street to meet friends for a pre-Christmas dinner and managed to snap a couple of sneaky pics in the middle of the bustling crowds:

Christmas lights in Regent Street

So this week it was time to slow down and venture further afield to discover a little more magic:

The famous Liberty of London storefront

Liberty are renowned for their Christmas windows

…but I have to say that, while these are impressive, my heart still belongs to Christmas windows of department store Myer in my hometown of Melbourne.

Source: Rachel Gray, weekendnotes.com

Anyway, I continued on to fall across that bastion of all things hip, Carnaby Street:

Hmmm the lights look…interesting
They’re still um interesting close up!

I finally made my way down to the back streets below Piccadilly Circus to meet my friend…

I do love stumbling across London’s amazing churches like this one on the corner of Jermyn and Duke of York Streets

…and after drinks were done, I was off for another festive feed at Westfield London. I was a little early so I managed some sparkly snaps here too.

This was hard to capture but is really spectacular. This is over an ‘outdoor’ arcade featuring lots of restaurants along the left and the shopping centre entrances to your right. I’m standing outside John Lewis after walking from the tube station close by. Gorgeous!
This is the unadorned ceiling inside – kind of attractive in a wavy way right?
…and their Christmas lights?  Oh no….

So there was nothing left to do but join my Aussie friend, feast on fab Mexican street food at Wahaca and enjoy my first foray into the world of churros

Churros – gone! Let’s face it, anything with this much chocolate is always festive

…before heading home to bask in my very own Christmas Lights at Gidday HQ.

Hope this adds a little sparkle to your Christmas!

ps…the post title says it all peeps. Just 3 sleeps to go. Just naggin’ sayin’

4 Sleeps To Go…Heaven In A Shoebox

I sat down to tap-tap-tap away and before immersing myself in today’s expatriate ramplings, decided to have a squiz at what my Facebook alumni have been getting up to overnight.

It was to be a cursory squiz as I had planned to return to the blogosphere and regale one and all with tales of London’s Christmas lights and general festive cheer.

But fellow shoe-fetish fan Lil Chicky had uncovered the most fabulous website on the planet and shared it. It’s called Shoes of Prey and here’s the best bit.

You get to design your own shoes!

 

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!

 

So I made some (and gave them names)…

Colour Me Happy
Tiptoe Through The Tulips
Green With Envy
In The News

 

Make A Splash – I think these are my favourite.

…and lost an hour.

Christmas lights will just have to wait.

I think I may have found Heaven…in a shoebox.

ps…so now you’ve had a little more Christmas inspiration from this erstwhile online publication of all things festive and fabulous, now’s the time to check off another day in the Gidday Christmas Countdown. Only 4 sleeps left peeps…the excitement (or panic if you prefer) is palpable.