A weekend of tracksuit bottoms – the yoga retreat

Posted on October 22, 2013 by thepogblog

To my utter amazement, despite nine yoga sessions between Friday and Sunday evening, I can still move!  If you saw my last post you’ll know I was going on a yoga retreat.  It was brilliant on every level – beautiful place, lovely people, fantastic tutors, huge amounts of fresh food and possibly the most relaxing weekend I have ever had.

I took a lot of photos which I’ll put at the bottom of my ramblings, but I have some Pog style tips, should you ever go on such a retreat:

  • When finding directions for a place you’ve never been to, don’t print written instructions from AA route planner and a map from Google maps.  It turns out they don’t agree and this can result in a few wrong turns, even though you’re driving less than 10 miles.
  • When packing you only need tracksuit bottoms, vest tops and sweatshirts.  And a pair of jeans and wellies for walking in the rain (should you forget the wellies, your feet get very, very soggy).  And when you select your knickers, don’t choose that pair at the back of the drawer that you’ve not worn for ages thinking it would be ‘a nice change’.  There is a reason they are at the back of the drawer and it may be that the reason is that the back of them make your bottom itchy, and you look like a monkey with all your scratching.
  • Vegetarian food made with organically grown vegetables from the estate is amazing.  Having a huge plate of vegetable curry just before an evening relaxation class can be less than relaxing.  I didn’t want a repeat of that event at work.
  • Getting up at 6.30am at the weekend to do pre breakfast yoga sessions isn’t actually as difficult as it sounds.  And having a relaxation session before bed is just amazing (if you manage to get back to your bed without going via the bar for a drop of organic wine… :o) )
  • Doing a headstand, balancing on foam blocks can be so exciting it can actually make your toes dance.  Apparently (according to another member of the class) it also means you make…ahem… ‘ecstatic’ sorts of noises.
  • Achieving a balance (The Crow, if you’re interested), that you never thought you’d do is great, but possibly shouting out ‘I’ve done it!’ like an overexcited five year old is not entirely appropriate…
  • The day after you get back, even though your train is delayed and you have a day of chaos ahead, you find yourself being very smiley and saying good morning to everyone you see.  This does throw people at 6am on a dark platform, but I think a bit more friendliness can only be a good thing.

So, here are some photos.  And if you think this sort of thing would appeal, do it.  I can’t wait to do it all again :o)

Welcome to relaxation!

Welcome to relaxation!

y9

I was slightly separate to the main building

I was slightly separate to the main building

but check out my bathroom ceiling!

but check out my bathroom ceiling!

The rooms were basic, but comfortable and absolutely silent - I didn't need my ear plugs at all

The rooms were basic, but comfortable and absolutely silent – I didn’t need my ear plugs at all :o)

I even got a smoking chair - complete with escaping horse hair

I even got a smoking chair – complete with escaping horse hair

Fresh veg for the kitchen

Fresh veg for the kitchen

Our yoga room was the old master bedroom

Our yoga room was the old master bedroom…

...with huge windows...

…with huge windows…

...and a beautiful view

…and a beautiful view

y22

the main ceiling - it took an entire summer to restore

the main ceiling – it took an entire summer to restore

The library had an open fire on the Saturday night. And this is where I found...

The library had an open fire on the Saturday night. And this is where I found…

...these. from the 70's and 80's

…these. from the 70’s and 80’s

I was disturbed by the pants though...

I was disturbed by the pants though…

A summer house on the grounds

A summer house on the grounds

And, um....a stone Mary hiding behind a tree.

And, um….a stone Mary hiding behind a tree.

y15

y19

:o)

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Yoga excitement

Posted on October 18, 2013 by thepogblog

I’m rather excited.  I’ve taken the day off work (my 16th this year) and this evening I will be at my first weekend yoga retreat.  Where am I going?  Somewhere exotic where I can feel the sun on my skin?  Erm, no.  I’m off whole 8.62 miles down the road to a big house where ‘extra jumpers’ have been suggested.

I probably didn’t need to take a whole day off work (especially as I have spent a few hours getting up to date with e-mails and still have to do a teleconference) but I thought it would be nice to start the relaxation a little early.

There have been a few blips in the preparation for this.  I booked a single room but was asked if I would mind sharing due to a mix up with room allocation.  Despite wanting to say the ‘right’ thing, I said that I really wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing with a stranger (or even a friend come to that – I like my own space).  Unless of course the stranger was a lovely single man, in which case I could probably revise my views on personal space.  I’m not sure if it’s a direct result of this comment, but I now not only have my own room, but apparently I have been allocated my own building…

I’m also pretty sure that I am the least experienced going, so I bought myself a yoga dvd a few months ago with the intention of improving significantly before I get there.  The dvd is under a pile of stuff, still in its wrapping on my kitchen work bench, so that’s not gone to plan.  However, in this weeks class I did mange a ‘very good’ half inverse tortoise.  My crow was terrible though.  A useful thing to remember is that demonstrating to your friends how you can do a half inverse tortoise in a restaurant in London is not a great idea.  At least I was wearing trousers at the time.

Norman cat has picked up on the fact that I’m going somewhere.  He bought me in dinner of a naan bread last night to persuade me to stay and has sulked on top of the wardrobe all morning.  I’m a bit worried about actually getting my bag out as that is likely to upset him further, but I need to get organised.  It is a long drive, after all :o)

Thanks for that, Norman.

Thanks for that, Norman.

I’ll let you know how it goes.  That is assuming I can move – we have nine sessions between this evening and Sunday evening.  Usually two hours once a week is enough to make me achy for a few days. :o)

Me and my yoga socks. They are magical. Ok, they keep my feet warm, but that's pretty magical when you are part toad.

Me and my yoga socks. They are magical. Ok, they keep my feet warm, but that’s pretty magical when you are part toad.

Posted in Pog Life, yoga | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Worrying and yellow sweets

Posted on October 15, 2013 by thepogblog

I tend to worry a bit a lot a stupid amount.  I am the sort of person who, if I get a few miles from my house and think that I may have left my straighteners on, I have to turn back to check (happily, living opposite Sister 2 reduces the incidence of this as I frequently call her to pop over to check for me.  Thank you Sister1).

Last week, the day RobRoyRon had fixed my water tank, I was finally in bed.  I’d wanted an early night but Norman had bought in a mouse and we’d spent an hour trying to persuade it out from under my bed.  There were five hours before by alarm was due to go off, but a thought crept in my head that I’d not actually checked to make sure the fixing had worked.  And if it hadn’t, the house would flood.  So at 11.30pm I was getting out my ladder to climb into the loft ‘just to check’.

I check a lot so I don’t worry (that kind of makes sense in my head).  I just wrote out the things I do before I leave the house, but I realised it makes me sound rather loopy, so let’s just say I have a touch of OCD.

I also have ‘things’ I do because it makes things feel more ‘right’.  One is to not eat yellow sweets.  That’s why the other day I discovered these all lurking in mostly empty sweet bags in my desk:

ys

I used to give them to my team, but when one of them broke a tooth on a midget gem, I felt a bit responsible…

Anyway, yesterday a colleague walked past my desk looking rather poorly.  I asked if she was ok, and she said she thought she was going to faint.  I whipped out my sweets and offered her the bag so she could up her sugar levels.  The bag only contained yellow ones.  It was slightly awkward when she asked why – ‘they are evil so I can’t eat them’ seemed like a short track to a visit with occupational health.  My ‘what a coincidence!’ didn’t seem very convincing, but I think her sugar levels were still a bit low as she didn’t question it.

Either that, or I bamboozled her with the other food I could offer – mints, porridge, a pack of toffee crisps, granola….  I realise most people use desk drawers at work for, well work.  But you never know when the canteen, vending machines and all the shops two minutes away may simultaneously run out of food.  I’m thinking I need to get this worrying thing a bit more under control.  But then what would I offer the next fainting colleague that passes?  :o)

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Slightly less chaos

Posted on October 11, 2013 by thepogblog

This week was marginally better than last week on the chaos scale.  I actually thought I’d got it all over and done with on Monday as the size of the chaos that evening was quite big.  I got home to hear a dripping in the conservatory gutter, realised that with bone dry ground it hadn’t rained here all day and had a sudden feeling I should check the water tank in my loft.  It turned out that the ball cock had completely drowned and the water level was just a few centimetres below the top of the tank. It was about 30 minutes away from overflowing and flooding Pog Towers.

I got a fixer man out on Tuesday.  Just before he arrived the shower fixer man turned up to fix the previous Mondays chaos.  We made slightly awkward small talk at the foot of my bed (you get into the loft from there) and then he clutched his chest and did some panicked breathing.  My first instinct was ‘this is going to be different to stick insect CPR – he’s quite a big chap’, then I realised that Norman decending from the top of the wardrobe on his left was what had caused the reaction.  Phew.  Kind of.

Anyway, he fixed the shower, RobRoyRon fixed the tank (I’m never sure which of those are his name, so I use them all) and I now have a shower that works properly and can leave the mains water turned on. Peace was restored.  Until Wednesday…

Sister 2 likes cleaning and is good at it.  I hate cleaning and am rubbish at it.  So I pay her to do my cleaning and everyone is happy.  On Wednesday when I was at work and Sister 2 was making Pog Towers look all shiny, she sent me this in a text message:

stick

Despite giving Dad back his stick insects on Sunday, it turns out one had decided to stay.  He is now in a mug in my airing cupboard with some bramble leaves.  He will be repatriated this Sunday.  I just hope he’s the last.  :o)

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Paw Pal Post

Posted on October 10, 2013 by thepogblog

It has just dawned on me that Norman cat has received more interesting mail than me in the last week.  Totally unprompted, he’s received a postcard from Corfu (from a German sounding cat!) and a letter from Ithaca.

b1

I have received a mobile phone bill a reminder that my guarantee on my oven is about to run out, all sorts of junk mail and a takeaway menu for the local Indian.

Norman is clearly doing something right.  He will be replying to his Ithacan paw pal this weekend.

And I must be doing something wrong…I guess if I want more interesting post I should take some tips from him.  Going forward, I shall be sleeping 90% of the day, stealing dinner (cooked or uncooked) from the neighbours, and playing catch with Spike, the catnip hedgehog every evening. :o)

It's a hard life!

It’s a hard life!

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Nine and a bit months!

Posted on October 8, 2013 by thepogblog

This post is now eight days late.  I meant to write it last week, but if you read Friday’s post, you’ll know that the world has been conspiring against me.  It’s still conspiring, but I am ignoring it.  For the moment.

The reason there was a calendar date for this post?  Well – drum roll please – , it has now been nine months (and eight days) since the great Pog Shave off.  If you happen to be one of my lovely new followers (and there seem to be a fair few of you recently – thank you so much for signing up to my ramblings) you might be unaware of this.  The detail is all here, but to cut a long story short, I had a weird ‘thing’ called trichotillomania, where for 23 years I pulled my own hair out, even though I didn’t want to.  I did say it was weird.  I had managed to get myself to a stage where shaving it all off and getting a wig seemed like the only option.  So I did.  In April, Bradley (my wig) went into retirement and I started to let my hair grow.  And I…

Have.  Not.  Pulled.  Out.  ONE.  Hair.  Since.  :o)

I know there are people who read this blog who have the same ‘thing’, so just for a minute, I’m going to be sensible.

To start with, it wasn’t difficult (I had a completely shaved head – I had no option).  Then when it started growing back I got that itchy feeling under my scalp a lot.  The excitement of having hair was enough to ignore it though or I just slapped my head to stop the itching.  (I advise against doing that bit in public.)

When it was a fair bit longer and the grey ones grew back – and FAR more than I had before – I was desperate to pull them out.  The solution to that particular issue was to dye my hair.  Thank you Sisters 1 and 2 for all your dying expertise (I can’t do it on my own – it’s disastrous enough with two of us.)  One day we may even read the instructions.

But it’s the last few months that have been really tricky.  I can feel the naughty (curly) ones when I run my hands through my hair – if I’m stressed or just lost in thought – and they drive me mad.  I have to give myself a really good talking to so make sure I leave them just where they are, naughty or not.  It’s a bit like giving up smoking and carrying a packet of cigarettes around with you.  The habit is still there, they are still there and it takes serious will power not to give in.  I know, I gave up and even without that packet of cigarettes, I started again two years later.  Idiot.

And I have damaged my hair.  As well as the grey ones that are so plentiful I could be mistaken for a badger in my natural state, it’s not grown back evenly.  I have a thin patch right on the top, but I’m hoping that it only seems so obvious to me because I know it’s there (like that spot that always seems bigger to the spotee than someone looking at them).

So would I suggest this to anyone else?  If you were feeling how I felt in December last year, anything is worth a try.  It’s not as easy as it sounds though.  I took up crochet and now do that obsessively, and yoga, which I do badly.  But both are good distractions and work for me.  Hopefully I’ll be able to do a post at the end of the year and say that I’ve managed twelve months and never have to mention it again.

Until then, thank you to all the lovely people who know me personally and compliment me on my hair.  It does make me smiley :o)

from this...

from this…

...to this

…to this

Posted in Trichotillomania | Tagged , , , , | 12 Comments

A week of chaos

Posted on October 4, 2013 by thepogblog

I promise that (unfortunately) none of what you’re about to read is made up.  It never is – I lack the imagination – but it may all sound a bit farfetched.  It’s actually just my life.

So, this week has been chaotic in terms of work.  Big Things were planned and I knew it would be busy.  What I didn’t know was the amount of additional chaos that would ensue.  This is what happened:

Monday:  After three hours of sleep (due to all over body aching, runny nose, coughing etc) I got up to discover that the kettle had broken, the shower was almost broken, Norman had bought in a slice of cooked gammon over night and he was currently playing catch with a mouse in the lounge.  I wrestled the mouse from him, peeled the gammon off my foot, had a bit of a panic about the shower and warmed up water in the microwave for the coffee that is absolutely essential before leaving the house.  It couldn’t get worse, right?  I called a fixer man later in the day to mend the shower for me and bought a new kettle on my way home.  It’s so noisy, I imagine the entire street can hear when I fancy a cuppa, but at least I had something that actually boiled water.

Tuesday:  I set fire to my hob.  At the weekend I’d bought myself a sort of sandwich maker that you place directly on the hob and had been very excited about using it.  The first time, most of the contents had oozed out, the house had filled with smoke and I’d needed industrial strength oven cleaner to rediscover the top of my oven.  So this time I thought to save mess I’d put a layer of foil over the hob to catch the oozing.  It made perfect sense.  Except it turns out that when cheese oozes onto foil, directly on top of something very, very hot it goes ‘pooof’.  Into really quite big flames.  Oops.

Wednesday:  I helped with an event related to the Big Thing.  I was a microphone dolly – running round with a mic as the audience asked questions.  As I stood at the back of the room I suddenly realised that the lines of the two tops I was wearing and possibly my knickers were visible through my skirt as they were all a bit scrunched up.  I was standing behind everyone so I put my hand down the back of my skirt and…well, flattened things out.  It was only when I glanced round a bit later that I realised I had been directly in front of the window of the room containing the people in charge of audio and visuals…

Later, I had a meeting with quite a senior HR manager.  I had to do some work with her on the Big Thing.  She had to explain some stuff to me, I had to write about it and go back to her to edit together.  I can only assume that information overload resulted in my tongue getting in a tangle.  As I left I meant to say ‘I’ll be back to bug you later’.  I don’t even say ‘bug you’ – not since I was about 12 – but I did.  Well, I tried.  What actually came out was ‘I’ll be back to bugger you later’.  I’m still thanking my lucky stars that she had a sense of humour and her reaction was to burst out laughing!

Thursday: I had a meeting with the boss of the HR manager of Wednesday.  I was absolutely determined not to embarrass myself again.  Instead, while we were in our meeting a real Big Wig came in.  The sort that reports directly to the CEO, and as our company is 60,000 people, the sort of Big Wig who would never know someone like me.  He probably does now.  He came into the room, and did a bit of swearing and, not knowing him I thought maybe he was having a bit of a joke.  So I giggled.  It turns out it wasn’t a joke, he was actually rather angry.  Possibly more so after some stupid nobody laughed at him when perhaps they should have kept quiet.  But you know, laughing in the face of someone who is my boss’s, boss’s, boss’s, boss’s boss had to be as bad as it could get, right?

Nope.  Around 2.30pm I was on a teleconference with my team and one of the girls reached toward my neck saying something terrifying like ‘stay still, it’s ok’.  She gently grabbed something from the pashmina which I’d been taking off and putting on all day and opened her hand for me to see.  It was a bloody stick insect! One of the babies that have appeared in the last few weeks I’ve been looking after them for Dad (take a look here for pictures).  We cleaned them out last Saturday so somehow this intrepid explorer had managed to escape, wander around the house since then hitch a ride on my scarf, get the car, tube and train and survive part of a day in the office.  The team named her Melcrum as we were listening to a presentation from that company when she was discovered.  I put her in a paper cup, sealed the top and, after the meeting, decided to call it a day.

At lunch time I’d stuffed a canteen made chicken burrito while I worked.  More kidney bean than chicken, but it was ok.  It was to cause the final part of my chaos of the day.  As I packed up, all of my team sitting at their desks nearby, a fart escaped with absolutely no warning.  Not the sort I could ignore or blame on someone walking past – the sort that people three rows of desks away could hear, and did hear.  The team all looked at me and burst out laughing.  It seemed quite a fitting end to the day, so through some embarrassed giggles, Melcrum and I put our heads down and left the building.

Friday:  I have not left the house.  I may never leave the house again… :o)

Melcrum on the train home. He is now back where he belongs, safe and well.

Melcrum on the train home. He is now back where he belongs, safe and well.

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Little Pea and the aunties day out

Posted on October 1, 2013 by thepogblog

This week is not going to plan.  I’ve had a broken kettle and shower, snottiness and achiness, a fire on my hob while I cooked lunch at 5pm and had to wrestle a mouse from Norman at 5am yesterday.  Sunday feels like months ago….it was almost calm….

Little Pea had an auntie day out (well, a few hours – I’m not sure any of us would have lasted much longer).  I think we may have got more out of the experience than him but he looks quite happy in his papoose thing, I think:

08

We went to a nature trail type thing which was really cool – it had scarecrows and sunflowers:

01

Arrows made from bushes:

02

Fruit that you weren’t supposed to pick:

04

I told you!:

 03

Wallabies:

(ok, it’s a rubbish photo but we couldn’t get that close and Little Pea was kicking is legs with excitement.)

05

Insect hotels:

06

Pigs:

09

Tee pees:

07

Bee hives:

010

And scarecrows doing a spot of fishing:

011

Sister 2 and I also learned that attempting to feed a Little Pea in the car is not a great plan.  We also discovered that putting him on my lap with the door open made him happier, but (because I was trying to feed him) the food ended up down my jeans and all over the car park.  (I don’t have a photo of this bit as we were laughing too much to think about it.)  Happily, Sister 1 arrived just as I’d covered his muslin in a delicious combination of spinach and prunes and rescued the situation.  Being an auntie is great, but I need a lot more practice at it! :o)

Posted in Bumpkinsville, Pog Life | Tagged , , , , , | 6 Comments

A different side of London

Posted on September 27, 2013 by thepogblog

I went to a social media event yesterday morning for work.  Due to my impressive ability to get lost, I gave myself lots of ‘asking direction’ time.  Amazingly, I found it straight away and was a little early.  7.15am  for an 8.30am start, to be precise.  It meant I had quite a bit of time to get through my e-mails over a coffee and have a wander, and it was lovely.  I’m usually based in Canary Wharf, which is impressive in its own way, if a little soulless.  My usual view is something like this:

w1

This event was in Shoreditch though, and was the polar opposite.  I thought I’d just post some of the photos I took as I really liked them – you might too.

Shoreditch seems to be the old mixed with the new:

w5

With interesting graffiti:

w3

Weird houses (this was on a small road between two really big main roads).  The light was burning in the lantern, runner beans were growing to the right of the door and you might be able to see the silhouettes on the second floor window.  It felt a bit creepy:

w7

A bit further down the same road, someone had thrown bread out of a window and the pigeons were breakfasting on them:

w6

Did you spot him?  They were being watched by a cat that edged out of the window…but never pounced.

w4

And on the way back to the office, a very well behaved mutt got comfy on the train:

w2

It made me smile to start the day like that :o)

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Introducing George, and George, and George, and…

Posted on September 25, 2013 by thepogblog

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, you may remember the slightly daft idea I had to give my Dad some Giant Thorny Stick Insects for Christmas.  It turns out it’s probably the best present I have ever given him – he seems to love them the same way I do Norman cat.  Weird.

Anyway, Mrs Stick Insect died a good few months back, leaving just two…and around a hundred eggs.  We never thought the eggs would hatch and Dad seemed so sad about Mrs SI (he dried her out on the radiator and now resides on top of the tv.  Mum was not overly impressed), that Mum and I bought him two more – this time Leaf Stick Insects.  Mrs Leaf promptly laid 100 or so eggs herself.

Around 40 of Mrs Giant Thorny SI’s eggs hatched and most have been donated back to the reptile shop I bought them from.  Dad just kept four – two babies and two originals.  All are now huge.  There was no sign of Mrs Leaf’s babies.

That is, until last week when I got a text to say that Dad was the proud owner of a Little Bud – George the second.  Exciting news (if you’re that way inclined).  Not so exciting when you are about to look after all the stick insects while your parents go on holiday.  They left on Saturday.  We now have George the second right through to George the tenth.  (Sadly, George the eighth died in the water bowl).

Now, this is all very well, but the baby Georges are hungry and fast.  And I didn’t realise how much of either they were until last night when I took them out of the airing cupboard and realised that they’d eaten almost all their brambles.  On the way home from yoga, armed with scissors and a torch I threw myself into a hedgerow to extract some dinner for them.  I came home, whipped the lid off their cage and….thee of them ran up my sleeve.  They have really sticky feet (the clue is in the name) and flicking them back in their cage didn’t go to plan…one flicked straight into the water bowl and laid motionless.  I couldn’t risk another going the same way as George the eighth to I picked him up and blew on him.  Kind of like stick insect CPR.  I’m pleased to announce that this George made it (despite the fact that by this point Norman was showing a real enthusiasm for the creatures running around like they were on speed) so I shoved the lid back on and put everyone back in the airing cupboard.  And then panicked as if two could fall in the water, what if the others did and I wasn’t around for CPR?  I couldn’t face opening the cage again though – as it was I wasn’t entirely sure that all of them had made it back in their tank, and my hair started feeling really itchy….

You’ll be pleased to know, that Sister 2 came over earlier and we just about managed to contain all the Georges long enough to get the water bowl out.  As nine have hatched in four days, we’re pretty terrified about how many we might be foster mums to by the time the parents come home, but at least there won’t be any more CPR moments.  We hope :o)

Two of the giant ones...

Two of the giant ones…

Mrs Leaf

Mrs Leaf

And a teeny, tiny, speedy George

And a teeny, tiny, speedy George

Posted in animals, Pog Life | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments