Reading challenges

So I’ve been browsing the net (as you do) and somehow, I entirely forget how, ended up on Restless Reader. Browsing on from there, I came across A Novel Challenge, which is a blog dedicated to tracking down reading challenges that people have created and then posting them all in one place so that more people can find them.

I’m an avid reader myself, but I’ve never done a ‘reading challenge’, aside from the ones they give us at school, which are normally along these lines:

Okay, children, we’re going to set you a reading challenge! Isn’t that fun? See, the aim of this challenge is to get you to read. Now, we want you all to read one book this school year. That’s quite a challenge! Don’t worry, though, because it’s only September and you have until July. Of course, we don’t want to pressure you, so if you don’t want to read a whole book, that’s okay. You can just read half of one. And if you don’t think you can read much more than a chapter, then of course that’s fine. And if you never get as far as opening a book in the first place, then that’s perfectly all right, as long as you tried.

Actually, come to think of it, that’s pretty similar to what most of our English lessons are like. I digress.

Anyway, I was thinking it might be interesting to have a go at one of these. The one that’s caught my eye for the moment is the 2008 2nds Challenge. I buy lots of books from charity shops and then put them straight up on bookmooch or give them back to charity when I’m done, so it might be interesting to take that a little bit further.

Watch this space!

Trent & Mersey

I’ve been away this last week (got back late Friday night) on the Trent & Mersey. We spent a week on a narrowboat, as we do every year, enjoying the canals and soaking up the scenery.

This year, we rented a canalboat from a couple who were advertising their boat on ebay. I think it’s fair to say that it’s probably the worst boat we’ve ever used. Of course, if your idea of great electrics includes wires and plugs hanging out of the walls, your idea of a great layout is one that means you can’t have the dining table up and sit down at the same time without a great deal of difficulty (not to mention a double bed that goes across the boat and whole rooms for the engine and a whole pile of crap you’ll never need, like deckchairs), your ideal situation is one where you have to climb along the ridiculously narrow sides of the boat if you want to get to the back (try doing that with a cup of tea!), you like boats that haven’t been cleaned and have other people’s false nails on the floor and your idea of a brilliantly working engine is one that needs gallons of water poured into the header tank every day and then starts emitting blue smoke(!), then this boat would be great, but those aren’t our main priorities. That’s not even to mention the faulty lavatory!

In the end, we decided to bring our holiday to a close on the Friday night rather than the Saturday morning as we’d originally planned. By this point, the engine had broken three times (once when we collected the boat and then twice on the way round), the faulty toilet was backed up so we couldn’t use it, we hadn’t been able to moor at a water point because the boat was 70 feet long (that’s long for a narrowboat; it’s the longest we’ve ever had, and it’s only 2′ shorter than the maximum you can fit on that canal!) and didn’t fit and the engine was looking like it was about to die again. What, you thought holidays were supposed to be relaxing?

Here’s a couple of choice photographs from the trip:

How to build a model volcano

Last year, for geography, I made and erupted a model volcano. I posted the result on youtube and to date it’s had over 60,000 views – not bad for a geography project! I’ve had lots of requests for instructions, so I’ve decided to explain once and for all how to make a volcano you can erupt in the back garden.

You will need:

• Polystyrene tray or something similar
• Pipe/tubing
• Pot
• A length of hose or piping
• Duct tape
• Newspaper
• Tape
• Papier mache (or oodles of PVA glue)

1. Cut a hole in the polystyrene tray so that you can fit your tubing through. I used a white plastic piece about 2″ in diameter that wais meant for plumbing. This will be the centre of your volcano.
2. Take your plastic pot (I used one that’s meant for washing liquid) and attatch it to the bottom of the tubing. Use the tape to secure the join so that it’s watertight. Doesn’t matter if it isn’t perfect.
3. Hack a hole in the side of the pot so that you can stick the hose in. Once again, use tape to secure the join.
4. Stick the tubing through the polystyrene tray and use more tape to secure. This join doesn’t have to be waterproof.
5. Take the newspaper and roll it into lots of long sections, then twist them. Wrap them round and round the tubing to build up the shape of your volcano, keeping them in place with tape. You can also make the newspaper into balls to get a different effect.
6. When you’ve made the shape you want, tear up more newspaper into strips and papier mache them onto the volcano. It works well if you put a whole sheet around the volcano first, to make it easier to attach the strips and also to get lots of nice ridges you can build on.
7. Leave to dry.
8. Paint! I can’t remember if I painted mine all one colour first or if I sponged all of it, but at some point I used a sponge to put the paint on to get a grassy effect.

And now, of course, you need to erupt it!

You will need:

• Bicarbonate of soda
• Vinegar
• Red food colouring

1. Dump some bicarbonate of soda in the bottom of your pot (you can drop it down the top of the volcano). I just guessed at the quantities: it doesn’t really matter. Just make sure there’s plenty.
2. Pour in some red food colouring to make the ‘lava’ red. If you prefer, you can use orange/blue/yellow/whatever. With no colouring, the ‘lava’ will be white.
3. Put the volcano wherever you want it to erupt, bearing in mind that this is best done outside!
4. Pour vinegar down the hose. It’ll take a few seconds for enough foam to build up but then the volcano will begin to erupt!
5. Keep pouring until it doesn’t seem to be having much of an effect (when the bicarb is gone, there won’t be any more foam) and then clear up the mess.

I have bad taste

No, seriously, I do.

Well, according to society I do, anyhow. I freely admit it: I am one of the hated and the shunned. I am a modern-day leper. I am not fit to associate with: I am untouchable. Yes, it’s true: I am a country and western fan.

I have never really understood what the big thing is about country and western being the absolute rock-bottom in terms of musical taste. I would stick 90s boyband type stuff at the top of the bad taste list, closely followed by anything with a video of scantily clad women writing around acting as if they’re really, really excited by a great big fat guy who they probably wouldn’t be seen dead with if they weren’t being paid for it. After that comes anything sampling something else (especially if they sample something good, like that awful Kid Rock song that absolutely murdered Werewolves of London), followed by every rap song ever recorded. Even if country & western was next, that’s still a pretty substantial amount below it.

I also have the misfortune of liking music made more than six months ago. In fact, I’ve taken it to extremes: I prefer music that was made some time ago. I know that sounds not too controversial, but you’d be surprised how many people think I’m completely mad: ‘I don’t like that music! It’s old!’ appears to be the resounding opinion of most of the country. Well, so what? Nothing wrong with it being old!

I have a feeling I could have made much more of this topic, but to be honest I don’t really have the energy or the inclination. I guess I’ll just settle for being bottom of the taste heap and leave it at that.

Boulogne

Due to a staggered start at the beginning of the year, our school has a couple of days left over at the end of the year. In the past, we’ve just wasted them watching films, like we do in most lessons at the end of the year, but last year some bright spark had the idea of making us have an ‘activities week’. Yeah, I wish we could always have a three-day week…anyway, we now get three days of wasting times watching themed films instead of just whatever the department has lying around.

This year, I was on the ‘taste of Europe’ activity, which sounds as if it should include cooking but doesn’t. Funny, that. Anyway, as part of our tasting of the continent, we got to visit the town of Boulogne on Tuesday. I did the trip before two years ago, but still, it was nice to go again.

The ferry there was pretty smooth (makes a nice change as most of the ferry crossings I’ve done are anything but), but unfortunately my friends all get terrible travel sickness.

Once we arrived in Boulogne, we looked around the town and bought souvenirs. The town centre is very picturesque; there’s only really once street with anything on. Here’s a picture:

I found a delightful little shop which sold prints of old French adverts. I found one of an absinthe advert:

We then had a tour of the down from a guide who spoke excellent English. Boulogne is a pretty historic place and there’s a fabulous chateau. There’s also a wonderful church. Boulogne is a place of pilgrimage for many Christians, especially Roman Catholics. Sometime in a very early century, a group of fishermen (Boulogne has a thriving fishing trade; it’s the largest fishing port in Europe) saw the Virgin Mary appear to them and tell them to go down to the sea. They did so, and found a wooden statue of her. They put the statue in their church. Since then, a far more impressive church has been built, partly modelled on St. Paul’s Cathedral in Rome and partly modelled on the basilica in the Vatican.

We were also fortunate enough to be able to go up the belfry, which gave us some fabulous views over the town, and to visit a cafe where they liked us so much that they gave us free crepes!

We also stopped at a shopping centre before getting the ferry back to Dover.

And now for the most important part of this post: the photos!

Catch-all

*blows away the dust*

Guess it’s been more than a while since I last posted! No particular reason for the delay; I’ve just let life get on top of me. Here’s a whistle-stop tour of my life since the beginning of the month:

• I’m officially off for the summer! No more early mornings until September 8th, thank God. Hooray for 46 days of doing absolutely nothing.
• And of course, being off for the summer means that I’m all done with history, music, drama, engineering, resistant materials, food tech, art and probably something else I’ve forgotten. Unfortunately, I have to wait another two years before I can drop maths, RE and PE. Oh well…
• I got my grade 7 recorder results. Two damn marks from a distinction! Better luck next time…
• I went to France for a day, which will have a blog post entirely of its own as soon as I can be bothered to write it.
• I went to see Mama Mia, which wasn’t that good but was bearable.
• I went ice skating and didn’t fall over. That means two times in a row I haven’t embarrassed myself.
• The weather has finally decided to act like July, instead of being gloomy and overcast peppered with showers, which is more the kind of thing we’d expect in April. Today, it is gloriously sunny – at last!
• I’ve started reading about a hundred books and not finished any of them. I’ve also made a database of every book I’ve read for almost the past two years, which will make for some interesting statistics when I get round to analysing the data.
• I’ve decided to kick my diet coke habit after drinking three cans in the space of half an hour without even realising it. I am now realising why people find it so hard to quit their addictions…I’ve just moved onto coffee instead. Eventually I’ll get there…doesn’t help that if I take water with me when I’m out, I always drink it and then need to buy something else. I refuse to buy water because I consider it ridiculous to pay good money for something you can get out of the tap for far less and I dislike most of the orange-flavoured sports drinks, so coke tends to be my only option…
• Life has continued.

Attention, please.

Attn. school inspectors: before you start asking questions about what we’re doing and what we do in class, it’s generally a good idea to observe a few social niceties first. Explaining who the hell you are is a good place to start.

Attn. English teachers: anyone who has not learned to use a comma by the age of 14 is a dead loss. Please, teach us something else!

Attn. librarians: when I say ‘do you have a copy of such-and-such a book’, it should be clear that what I really want is to know whether or not you have a copy of that book in your library. I don’t know how you hear ‘please direct me to the children’s section’ in that sentence, but hey, I guess you could mishear me. Still, I don’t think that makes up for the way you give me a dirty look every time I walk in and return a book, or the way you give me a lecture every time I take one out about making sure it’s back on time, or the way you frown at me if I’m standing in the adult section.

Attn. whoever organises those school enterprise event things: I do not care about trying to move an egg with three bits of string, a paperclip and a tin of pineapple rings, or about any of the other insane activities you have concocted. I don’t give a damn about building teamwork. Just pick up the damn egg already.

Attn. whoever organises school sports days: the world would be a better place if you just let us all take the day off.  Seriously.  Sports days probably have the highest truancy rate of all days in the school year anyway, and that’s probably because many people’s parents will let them stay home just because sports days are a waste of time.

Attn. teachers who set essays due in the following day: has it ever occured to you that we may have other things to do? Has it ever occured to you that other teachers may have set us essays for the following day? Has it ever occured to you that giving us a few extra days when you won’t mark it anyway might actually mean we’d do it?

Attn. people who enforce uniform regulations: if my tracksuit bottoms with pale pink stripes on the sides are unacceptable, then so must be my makeup, my decorative earrings and my nail polish. Given that you have yet to ask me to remove any of these things, I don’t see that my trousers really matter that much.

Attn. health and safety people: Health and safety is the reason people don’t jump off cliffs. Health and safety is not an excuse for controlling people to the extent that they are not allowed to do even the most menial tasks, such as walking down the corridor to the bathroom, by themselves. And if wearing a blunt plastic hairstick is dangerous, a pen is a terrorist weapon and a drawing of a gun needs to be removed by airport security, then God help us.

And finally, attn. anyone who thinks a French twist is an ‘extreme hairstyle’: what the hell are you on?

Coffee shop moments

Oh, the romanticised cup of coffee.

Coffee smells like freshly ground heaven. ~Jessi Lane Adams

Every account of coffee shops you read is the same. They are places of intellectual discussion and discourse, filled with intellectual sorts, romantic couples, friends having heart-to-hearts. Jazz music is playing quietly in the background while writers scribble on their napkins, musicians pore over the scores of Mozart’s concertos, life’s quiet observers watch the people on the street outside and the literary sorts bury themselves in Dostoevsky.

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons. ~T.S. Eliot

My favourite coffee shop is in Blackwell’s in Oxford. The tables are populated by intellectual-looking students reading and typing away on laptops or scribbling notes in their notebooks (this is Oxford, after all). The tables are made of dark wood. Blackwell’s being a bookshop, a shelf of books is in one corner and customers are invited to help themselves to the contents to read while they sip their coffee. A water dispenser is on the wall with glass jugs in front of it and every minute or two, someone gets up to pour themselves a glass.

Given enough coffee, I could rule the world. ~Author Unknown

However, the harsh reality of the coffee shop is that more often than not, it is an ugly Starbucks or something of the sort, populated by individuals ordering triple mocha banana-caramel American-style lattes in espresso cups with Italian raspberries and Venezuelan caramel topping, where the staff don’t give a damn about intellectual discussion (and probably couldn’t spell ‘intellectual’ either) and where customers are hustled out the door so that the table can be free for the next banana-sipping commuter.

Coffee is the best thing to douse the sunrise with. ~Drew Sirtors

Occasionally, though, one comes across a true ‘coffee shop moment’. Perhaps the coffee shop actually plays jazz music, or there’s a group of men playing cards, or someone gets indignant when they’re asked if they want there coffee black (there are other colours?!), or someone scribbles on a napkin, or there’s someone reading Nietzsche in the corner (sometimes without being glared at by the staff). Maybe, just maybe, the coffee shop doesn’t serve quintuple strawberry frappanissimo espresso lattes with caramel topping.

No one can understand the truth until he drinks of coffee’s frothy goodness. ~Sheik Abd-al-Kadir

I went to the private view of a textile exhibition yesterday. During the requisite ‘I’m so pleased to be here today’ speeches, I was acutely aware that somewhere, there was jazz. Turning around, I saw a coffee shop moment lying on the table. A girl sat at a table, wearing one of the visitor stickers but not listening to the speech, with headphones in her ears, through which jazz was playing. She was wearing a flaming red headscarf and was wearing a fabulously embroidered red jacket which somehow looked even better for the grungy trainers she wore on her feet. She was reading a book, though I couldn’t see what it was. When I walked out of the room after the last round of applause, I could see that she had some kind of curly writing tattooed on the back of her neck and the four suit symbols tattooed behind one ear.

If only she’d been drinking coffee.

The humble spork

This is, apparently, a picture of a ’spork’. A spork is, according to good ol’ wikipedia:

a hybrid form of cutlery taking the form of a spoon-like shallow scoop with the addition of the tines of a fork

(Seriously, did you know they were called ‘tines’? Did anyone know they were called tines? Pardon me for being common and lower-class, but until I was enlightened, I’d have called them prongs. Oh, silly, silly me.)

Wikipedia’s article continues with some interesting spork-related facts, such as the fact that they are occasionally known as ‘foons’ and that they have been made since at least the 1800s.

The point of this entry, however, is to celebrate the fact that I am one of probably only 4 people in the world (the other 3 being related to myself) to refer to this culinary implement as a ’spoon-fork’.

Don’t you just love being alternative?

English summer

I guess it’s time for our second week of summer here. Yes, you guessed it: I’m going to be a stereotypical Brit and talk about the weather for an entire entry.

About a month ago, we had one week where it was glorious and sunny. I went out and bought skirts, having thrown all mine away during the winter. I’d only just got home from the shops when it started to rain, and until yesterday, it kept on going and going and going. Guess that was our one and only week of summer for this year…too bad I’m not so keen on drizzle.

Then on Sunday, it suddenly became ludicrously hot and it’s stayed that way ever since. It seems like everyone but me is absolutely delighted about it…seriously, though, I don’t like hot weather. I don’t like it when it’s horrible and drizzly either, but there is such a thing as too hot and it kicks in at about 25 degrees Celsius. You know how it is in the summer evenings when it’s cool and shady but warm enough to go outside in short sleeves? That’s my kind of weather. I think I’d like it to be like that all the time.