tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47318012124905845242024-02-19T11:09:34.079+01:00In My LifeSarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-51527408851241687742013-04-30T23:00:00.000+02:002013-05-01T18:17:46.890+02:00Z is for Zzzzzzzzzz<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7kBIlIQBSfvVwO72anFHbG5uZY2FJQyW41YfwVqY-LnpfkBtXQ7tKAsXHH3dRQnt9Ache9_KAs3I8gAcubANHLqiHAu0thxvapQfKekTOrl9jh7T5U4jliaoJEPzyQYwK4pdr_lPljA/s1600/dormouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7kBIlIQBSfvVwO72anFHbG5uZY2FJQyW41YfwVqY-LnpfkBtXQ7tKAsXHH3dRQnt9Ache9_KAs3I8gAcubANHLqiHAu0thxvapQfKekTOrl9jh7T5U4jliaoJEPzyQYwK4pdr_lPljA/s400/dormouse.jpg" width="400" /></a>I am a big fan of sleeping. It is one of my favourite hobbies. Be it the cheeky afternoon nap on a sunny <br />
Sunday or a hibernation-style early night on a chilly November evening, I love my bed and the chance to catch a snooze. My Dad used to call me a dormouse when I was little because I loved snuggling down for a sleep so much!<br />
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I'm rather particular about how I like my bed and am on an ongoing campaign to find the perfect pillow, the softest pure cotton bedding and the right tog quilt. I am often ridiculed by David for my insistence that I cannot sleep with the quilt the wrong way around (who wants buttons or press-studs in their face all night?) However, as it is my one domestic foible, he is quite patient and suffers many a midnight disturbance as I re-calibrate the quilt.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGYyyhZjKAbI8IYzitMssVV3V7JxGyBR5h7Xqt6ajdtTT-GDLoyZs04uJptQ0PM0HceRYB6SfuR6sJpYKpuKB7JwQbDX7b8NIvXgDcRrAy5t7xVvlpaRtfpM6OA_aOiksTtASIWtmNaVo/s1600/happynightssleep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGYyyhZjKAbI8IYzitMssVV3V7JxGyBR5h7Xqt6ajdtTT-GDLoyZs04uJptQ0PM0HceRYB6SfuR6sJpYKpuKB7JwQbDX7b8NIvXgDcRrAy5t7xVvlpaRtfpM6OA_aOiksTtASIWtmNaVo/s200/happynightssleep.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>After a good night's sleep - crucially<br />not in a tent...</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ9RtCA9H-HhBn_x64G2Jlk283JkfgqSFnZLJOBcImOiOeh19iD1L2ESBBZ_N3cdcz_7R7Adt0qR8dVzIPX3j4aSEP9Fkbs78xPOrdnAFwvY1Gaz6xwRJ26cN_QUIj4AisuNubKG-dpoU/s1600/badnightssleep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ9RtCA9H-HhBn_x64G2Jlk283JkfgqSFnZLJOBcImOiOeh19iD1L2ESBBZ_N3cdcz_7R7Adt0qR8dVzIPX3j4aSEP9Fkbs78xPOrdnAFwvY1Gaz6xwRJ26cN_QUIj4AisuNubKG-dpoU/s200/badnightssleep.jpg" width="185" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Not good - trying to have a good<br />time after a bad night's sleep.</i></td></tr>
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As mentioned before I am not a <a href="http://insarahslife.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/r-is-for-reasons-to-be-cheerful.html" target="_blank">morning person</a>, but I do find that if I've had a good sleep the night before it is a little more bearable. Much research has gone into the importance of a good nights sleep and <a href="http://www.sheknows.com/health-and-wellness/articles/947797/10-great-reasons-to-get-more-sleep" target="_blank">there is evidence to suggest</a> that it will make you brighter, less stressed, sexier, more immune to pain and a more effective decision-maker.<br />
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I've really enjoyed doing the A-Z Challenge and, although I haven't had the chance to visit as many other participants as I would have liked to, it has been great to stretch my literary legs a little and write something for fun again. I intend to keep up the blog, although it may be more of an occasional post than this month, as I've found it fascinating to reminisce, put my thoughts into words and revisit some people and places again. For now, though, I'm looking forward to some more sleepy-time and with Bank Holiday Monday coming up, maybe an afternoon nap too :0)Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-68910606774792338202013-04-29T21:42:00.002+02:002013-04-29T21:44:16.466+02:00Y is for YAY!I had intended to blog about my beloved county of Yorkshire today for Y, but I've had something of a 'YAY!' day so thought I'd just post quickly about this instead.<br />
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We have Ofsted, the schools and college inspectors visiting our college this week. It is a very stressful time and the management have spent all year reminding us of this unpredictable impending doom. It all seems to be going well so far and today I was observed both by my Head of Department and an Ofsted Inspector and I was thrilled, and very relieved, to get a Grade 1 (the highest grade possible). I must say this is due to my students all behaving very well, my colleagues being incredibly supportive and David listening to me talk through my lesson plans incessantly. I am, none the less, super chuffed!<br />
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I also had official confirmation through in the post tonight that my grades for my Masters in Post-Compulsory Education and Training have been confirmed by the assessment board. This means I have an MA at Pass with Merit - officially!<br />
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To top the day off, <a href="http://insarahslife.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/q-is-for-quizzing.html" target="_blank">my favourite team on University Challenge</a>, from Manchester University just romped home with the trophy in the final! Yay, indeed!<br />
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Apologies for the overwhelmingly self-congratulatory nature of this post (and the excessive use of exclamation marks). Normal service will be resumed once I've calmed down and Y is for Yorkshire will appear soon...<br />
<br />Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-22642548481753861782013-04-27T22:30:00.000+02:002013-04-28T10:50:05.791+02:00X is for XXXL<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvI2fipDL-P42qVnnj05aonoUcAy85T1uGGRkRnHizbEJCOXuwYCjIlfHpMsKYG1kV9CPi7vzYz9MCVbMbz7FaSWhwk0zvx7qfh57nfPgFfe2ZNDhzxMGvPTFNI2zt9RHHMEpJxnWppTI/s1600/chubbycheeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvI2fipDL-P42qVnnj05aonoUcAy85T1uGGRkRnHizbEJCOXuwYCjIlfHpMsKYG1kV9CPi7vzYz9MCVbMbz7FaSWhwk0zvx7qfh57nfPgFfe2ZNDhzxMGvPTFNI2zt9RHHMEpJxnWppTI/s200/chubbycheeks.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The ubiquitous chubby cheeks<br />- still present to this day!</i></td></tr>
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I was always a sturdy child. Despite a vegetarian diet, swimming lessons, gymnastics, ballet lessons and parents with well-meaning rules such as no chocolate except on weekends, I remained a chubby child. I was bullied consistently throughout school and the target of much of the ridicule and criticism was my size, leaving me with major confidence issues regarding my appearance. During my teenage years, it continued to be a problem that haunted those horrifically fragile times - finding clothes that weren't old fashioned or frumpy was hard enough, even without the crippling awareness of your otherness.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizjpayjwb11HrOBK38Aa2djzed4pWUwAx-pz-cObyORISEy5esX3e2bEXR8u41QWHFmDubaAfiVMJfgKeJ-bpjde_palkrwO_V4-2tjixeFqapN2CPwLDEJagj0fX6HBohBYcD9G_3vBQ/s1600/lady+v+dress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizjpayjwb11HrOBK38Aa2djzed4pWUwAx-pz-cObyORISEy5esX3e2bEXR8u41QWHFmDubaAfiVMJfgKeJ-bpjde_palkrwO_V4-2tjixeFqapN2CPwLDEJagj0fX6HBohBYcD9G_3vBQ/s200/lady+v+dress.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>In a LadyV London vintage-style frock</i><i>.</i></td></tr>
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As a young woman, I went through a forgivingly elasticated hippy phase, a decidedly wafty goth period and, during my University years, an unexplainable pierced nose, crimped hair, depressed clown phase. I spent far too many hours, gazing at the clothes available in high-street stores, knowing they were not available in my size but trying to convince myself I could squeeze into them. Like so many big girls, I've often had half a wardrobe full of clothes I'm waiting to be small enough to fit into.<br />
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More recently, rather than continuing to pine for clothes that, as well as not fitting me, wouldn't suit me, I have decided to shop for the shape of my body. The internet, in particular, has been the key to finding well-fitting plus-sized clothes that I feel confident and happy in. I take a lot of pleasure in seeking out clothing that will flatter and suit my figure and planning out outfits that suit my taste for 40's and 50's style whilst also fitting my body properly and building my confidence.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPMFTeXrDGOjMHU4r8dYlithU03FBMtVZbbDyYEQI5aY3iUIseDStjvsZBQSaIm9kazOxl_zBm4ybdRNymxO2ZdozAdiTP1935SQHMLtADi6rmC1aH_wDE4fqUSXJFXPc_oR1uhu0h90Y/s1600/evans+frock+and+shrug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPMFTeXrDGOjMHU4r8dYlithU03FBMtVZbbDyYEQI5aY3iUIseDStjvsZBQSaIm9kazOxl_zBm4ybdRNymxO2ZdozAdiTP1935SQHMLtADi6rmC1aH_wDE4fqUSXJFXPc_oR1uhu0h90Y/s200/evans+frock+and+shrug.jpg" width="171" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>In an Evans prom dress<br />& shrug at a dance.</i></td></tr>
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On <i><a href="http://pinterest.com/chunkymonkey/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a></i> I've gained 100 followers now for my board <i><a href="http://pinterest.com/chunkymonkey/plus-size-pretties/" target="_blank">Plus-Size Pretties</a></i>, where I collect some of my favourite pieces when I find them. I find it useful to store these when I spot them as, in many cases, it is hard to sort through the endless tat that some retailers decide will appeal to plus-sized customers.<br />
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<b>5 of my favourite plus-sized shops or retailers:</b><br />
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<li><i><a href="http://www.ladyvlondon.com/Plus-Size_B26FPG.aspx" target="_blank">LadyV London </a></i>- although their range of plus size dresses is limited, they do release new collections regularly and produce amazing frocks for a reasonable price. I've three of their dresses in my wardrobe now - and I've my eye on several others too! </li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.evans.co.uk/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/CatalogNavigationSearchResultCmd?catalogId=33054&storeId=12553&langId=-1&viewAllFlag=false&sort_field=Relevance&categoryId=1135696&parent_categoryId=209431&beginIndex=1&pageSize=24" target="_blank">Evans </a></i>- the main high-street store to cater for plus-sized customers in the UK, Evans do stock some appealing ranges. I generally love their lingerie, as it really does flatter whilst being wearable. They have also done some special edition ranges with <i><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/gallery/2009/jul/06/beth-ditto-evans-fashion" target="_blank">Beth Ditto</a></i> and <i><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/fashion/gallery/2012/mar/27/clements-ribeiro-plus-size-evans" target="_blank">Clements Ribeiro</a> </i>both of which helped to push the notion that big girls like unique style too.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiee-LOOVkryjnPIi2V7xgoqeu5TYd8SU3PaIkDZmkNVy0GJ6p4Qklu9QivEQb190fsR1yE5TSHr60kAXwRqHzlQC3WHQMFQ9oWRclA6THpm7HrmenqqyS8T3WspJhzYCyRl4sMpIvKyrA/s1600/joebrowns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiee-LOOVkryjnPIi2V7xgoqeu5TYd8SU3PaIkDZmkNVy0GJ6p4Qklu9QivEQb190fsR1yE5TSHr60kAXwRqHzlQC3WHQMFQ9oWRclA6THpm7HrmenqqyS8T3WspJhzYCyRl4sMpIvKyrA/s200/joebrowns.jpg" width="155" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Having a cuddle with my<br />young friend, Sadie, in<br />a Joe Browns dress.</i></td></tr>
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</li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.simplybe.co.uk/shop/page?pageId=3743&cm_re=FashionHover-_-Brands-_-Joe+Browns" target="_blank">Joe Browns</a></i> - the great blend of quirky style, fabulous prints and innovative cuts from this great brand now comes in a full range ofplus sizes and they are producing some beautiful clothes this season. Be still my twitching debit card... I've my eye on <a href="http://www.simplybe.co.uk/shop/joe-browns-carefree-button-through-dress/mj133/product/details/show.action?pdBoUid=7540#colour:Multi-coloured,size:" target="_blank">this beauty </a>for a summer wedding we have booked!</li>
<li><i><a href="http://www.hm.com/gb/subdepartment/LADIES?Nr=4294928358" target="_blank">H&M+</a></i> - the plus sized range from H&M is often updated and features some good key pieces each season at a reasonable price. </li>
<li><a href="http://www.igigi.com/" target="_blank"><i>Igigi</i></a> - the American designer whose ranges I am falling in love with, despite the fact that they are very expensive and not available in many outlets in the UK. Love their style, cut and fabrics - maybe one day... </li>
</ol>
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Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-44542620717911264832013-04-26T23:00:00.000+02:002013-04-28T12:19:03.822+02:00W is for Who<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGdnKatAZa0MFLpWVy8LMSVD96PvQIrOxLnOmDXmnrCDnkstZaDIXEBtIFgE5MArUt0O7Wn9t0LvygudGwREBqlbwcoPA-qUXeysc_CllpJgK09nwG3r3YKFAct3iH57UIcA1mdcdPA1k/s1600/TARDIS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGdnKatAZa0MFLpWVy8LMSVD96PvQIrOxLnOmDXmnrCDnkstZaDIXEBtIFgE5MArUt0O7Wn9t0LvygudGwREBqlbwcoPA-qUXeysc_CllpJgK09nwG3r3YKFAct3iH57UIcA1mdcdPA1k/s320/TARDIS.jpg" width="161" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>David and I and the TARDIS<br />prop at BBC TV Centre.</i></td></tr>
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In 1996, I discovered what became my favourite television programme of all time. I had always enjoyed some sci-fi programmes such as <i>The X-Files</i> and<i> Red Dwarf</i> and I had read some of Iain M Banks sci-fi books, but I wouldn't have classed myself as a sci-fi nerd by any stretch. However, once I was introduced to the world of <i>Doctor Who</i>, I never looked back!<br />
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The world of <i>Doctor Who </i>fandom was in a time of post-movie comedown when I discovered it. The TV show had ended in 1989 and the dedicated fan-base had very much kept series alive through books, magazines and conventions in the intervening years. In 1996, a new film had been made, re-igniting the excitement of fans around the world. Those with much more of a long-term involvement with The Doctor and his adventures than me had mixed opinions about the 'new film' but to me it was all part of the tapestry of the story and I loved it.<br />
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The concept of time-travel has always fascinated me, and the potential for storytelling that the simple idea of a mysterious chap in a time-travelling spaceship brings seems just endless. Through the television stories, the TV movie, the books, short-stories and audio recordings of stories I've experienced so many different adventures with The Doctor and his companions and I never seem to tire of it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2XQPGMz0YQNAVkp-FlkWsWXir0MIuF_Q-Z3SrRR23jf-MsifAxgttsZqiLPNnqDT3NX7sRN1MfymL1lTs6BmTxnZwVymcykmVPYmCPUctXHndEbdLhLo-OtOfwLWAVnVxTrj4yVq0c6c/s1600/city+of+death.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2XQPGMz0YQNAVkp-FlkWsWXir0MIuF_Q-Z3SrRR23jf-MsifAxgttsZqiLPNnqDT3NX7sRN1MfymL1lTs6BmTxnZwVymcykmVPYmCPUctXHndEbdLhLo-OtOfwLWAVnVxTrj4yVq0c6c/s320/city+of+death.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The 4th Doctor and his companion, Romana, in my<br />favourite episode of all time - City of Death.</i></td></tr>
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My favourite incarnation of The Doctor is Tom Baker - the wild-eyed, mad uncle figure, who was the 4th actor to play the role on TV. I love the way he can flip between a grinning, sweetie-proffering, sparkle of a man to the darkest and most threatening individual you can imagine. You really can believe he is an alien - a stranger to any time and place, someone who never quite fits his environs. His Doctor is wonderfully anarchic, whilst at the same time suggesting more than ever before that he is a man on the run, with the weight of responsibility and a troubled past about to grab his flapping coat-tails at any point.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhApxGHEV8GPGHeH5dbvjzrWzoVXAIAlSEJcSVUWZjymAL1mnLpPa7La1PlTjbng5vj6NGMl6MMuvzqlY1c-vt9FnVZ2jkxsXE1zTFBI2ufD01PSBHMyz7LP6uTkRng2rmAx_2rat6v7Uc/s1600/doctor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhApxGHEV8GPGHeH5dbvjzrWzoVXAIAlSEJcSVUWZjymAL1mnLpPa7La1PlTjbng5vj6NGMl6MMuvzqlY1c-vt9FnVZ2jkxsXE1zTFBI2ufD01PSBHMyz7LP6uTkRng2rmAx_2rat6v7Uc/s320/doctor.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>David Tennant's 10th incarnation of The Doctor<br />with companion, Rose Tyler. </i></td></tr>
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When the series returned in 2005, it was the first time I had been able to watch the show as it was broadcast, which was wonderfully exciting. I loved the 9th Doctor, Christopher Eccleston, and was thrilled to see that the team who had worked so hard to bring my favourite show back to our screens, had created something so wonderfully new and different, without trampling all over the things I adored so much about the show already. The arrival of David Tennant as the 10th Doctor, during the second of the new seasons added even more to my enjoyment of the show. I loved his manic, elfish Doctor and seeing his relationship with Rose, his first companion, flourish and then end is one of the most heartbreaking stories I have ever witnessed.<br />
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The wonderful Sarah-Jane Smith, is definitely my favourite of the Doctor's companions. She was a<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5hFiM5gi-TmE_dmqXZEUYj_FKfZwZCTyYxXazFGrjYK_OOfLgH_w1f5yzyT6l96Aq4ro12n9IRpb8s1NnTZTlgc75V-HAK49-P76HH9DF4Polj2T2VZpflRmsXSh-iIzCrLTf9LojL9k/s1600/sarah+jane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5hFiM5gi-TmE_dmqXZEUYj_FKfZwZCTyYxXazFGrjYK_OOfLgH_w1f5yzyT6l96Aq4ro12n9IRpb8s1NnTZTlgc75V-HAK49-P76HH9DF4Polj2T2VZpflRmsXSh-iIzCrLTf9LojL9k/s320/sarah+jane.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Have you met Miss. Smith, she's my best friend"<br />The Doctor</i></td></tr>
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headstrong, independent, intelligent and wiley young woman who was a journalist, with a life of her own outside of her adventures with the Doctor. Unlike some of the other companions paired with our hero, the writing of Sarah-Jane, as well as the amazing performance from Elisabeth Sladen, allowed the audience to see someone that you could truly believe was The Doctor's best friend and equal. Sarah-Jane returned to the series, in 2006, in a very touching re-union with her old friend - this time in his new incarnation, with scenes that cannot fail to make me cry. The wonderful Sarah-Jane also got her own spin-off series <i>The Sarah-Jane Adventures</i>, which endeared my beloved bestie to a whole new generation of children. When Elisabeth Sladen died in 2011, there was an overwhelming response from a public who had felt as I did about her most famous role. She is sadly missed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjABTP6uL9Y_LicV7S6Hw-CvYUUghsGCQafpnZXTiPCysZNsD0gG3T89VQcdAfm18ECVvRB56Kf5SYOSXBOya8KgePV6Dsc67DpAAkkBOwCrQcSU5QN0RoWGKwUfCW-KjtHDvCWx_z8zmY/s1600/clara.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjABTP6uL9Y_LicV7S6Hw-CvYUUghsGCQafpnZXTiPCysZNsD0gG3T89VQcdAfm18ECVvRB56Kf5SYOSXBOya8KgePV6Dsc67DpAAkkBOwCrQcSU5QN0RoWGKwUfCW-KjtHDvCWx_z8zmY/s200/clara.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
I'm not overwhelmingly positive about the most recent incarnation of The Doctor, or some of his more recent adventures in the TARDIS, but I remain fascinated by this ever-changing magical series. A new companion, the wonderfully named Clara Oswin, played by the sparkling Jenna Louise Coleman, has bought a new aspect to the series again very recently and I'm very excited about seeing more of this intriguing character. As ever, the series continues to take us to places and times - in a way that no other show can. <br />
<br />Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-19379400758820877982013-04-25T23:30:00.000+02:002013-04-27T15:13:04.792+02:00V is for Vegetarian Cookery<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hzkZawj6cW3WNkgGQIcAIwvQ_pueoJkTyFEV83AOt9rcN0CKqqGmEzYh8foqUtuuRYj_ZNb_eNaU72fuRFFIanwd2DfhHlx93wJTpqdkidZehGweyCoDIV4y2w96FajyPRScsu7lmIQ/s1600/neil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7hzkZawj6cW3WNkgGQIcAIwvQ_pueoJkTyFEV83AOt9rcN0CKqqGmEzYh8foqUtuuRYj_ZNb_eNaU72fuRFFIanwd2DfhHlx93wJTpqdkidZehGweyCoDIV4y2w96FajyPRScsu7lmIQ/s200/neil.jpg" width="200" /></a>Before I was born, in the mid-seventies, my parents decided to become vegetarians. They were appalled by intensive farming methods and decided to try a new way of living. Although history paints the sixties and seventies as times of, (in the words of Neil from <i>The Young Ones)</i>, 'vegetable rights and peace' - this was still something of a novelty at the time.<br />
<br />
When I came along in 1979, they decided to raise me as a vegetarian, too. Despite the concerns of my Gran - who was a little worried to hear I was being fed yoghurt, or sour milk as she saw it - they persevered and raised both my brother and I on a vegetarian diet. This was not easy when we were young, in the days before <i>Quorn</i> or <i>Linda McCartney</i> boxed vegetarian meals. We bought strange and exotic products from health food shops, celebrated the discovery of vegetarian restaurants wherever we found them and ate vegetables grown on our own allotment. I remember once, during <i>National Vegetarian Week</i> or something similar, Dad cooked up a range of different veggie meals we used to have at home and brought them in for my friends at Junior School to try. It was really great, actually, seeing their reactions to Dad's cooking - whether it was recognition that it wasn't some alien fare that we ate, but something similar to their own home-cooked meals or joy (or, indeed, displeasure) at a new taste or flavour.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQnmVuP6ZqJJOeeGZ9_gKMob0xhJHSttcXoCj8yI04fy-5j23P-SvUud7fQDzi3c1OpaXN623jkMTgQEbkYyJRAkKaDtv7xMRHl74l3q2apOqOIY7-CjJybpDD_135UogBjKdstkqsb8/s1600/Asparagus+and+Leek+Quiche.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQQnmVuP6ZqJJOeeGZ9_gKMob0xhJHSttcXoCj8yI04fy-5j23P-SvUud7fQDzi3c1OpaXN623jkMTgQEbkYyJRAkKaDtv7xMRHl74l3q2apOqOIY7-CjJybpDD_135UogBjKdstkqsb8/s320/Asparagus+and+Leek+Quiche.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Asparagus and Leek Quiche - <i><a href="http://www.recipefy.com/en/asparagus-and-leek-quiche/recipes/21758" target="_blank">recipe link</a></i>.<br />
Yes, I know the cliches about vegetarians and quiche.<br />
Yes, I still love its cheesy, eggy goodness.<br />
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Often, when I meet lifelong carnivores, they are keen to list all the meat products they couldn't do without if they turned vegetarian. I can relate to this as I am appalling at any kind of diet - as soon as something is off the menu, I want it - badly! I am happy to admit that I find vegetarianism easy because I have always been used to it and, as I've never really eaten meat properly, I don't really know what I'm missing. People go into raptures about bacon and steak and sausages, but, although I've tried these things, I didn't really like them, so I don't feel like I'm being denied anything.<br />
<br />
I turned vegan for about 4 years, some time ago, and I took this very seriously, ruling out all animal products from my diet. Whilst I highly respect anyone who maintains this lifestyle, I have to admit that in time I came to realise that I couldn't really find a sustainable ethical argument against eating truly free-range eggs. The same was true of cruelty-free honey and several other substances that I had sworn off simply <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja2R0kM73PxTjuIhkNSq7yPT8RB-kH-S7antj33NRBywuHo5cFCHvTtH1d1rsUNYJgIvKfgQwjiQJSrJ5oWv1jlpX8zDLYfTT_vPf27HriRPXnRVo-zOgAOZbYudjNk8lztR1gGPYAoN0/s1600/Mushroom+Salad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja2R0kM73PxTjuIhkNSq7yPT8RB-kH-S7antj33NRBywuHo5cFCHvTtH1d1rsUNYJgIvKfgQwjiQJSrJ5oWv1jlpX8zDLYfTT_vPf27HriRPXnRVo-zOgAOZbYudjNk8lztR1gGPYAoN0/s320/Mushroom+Salad.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My Mushroom and Dolcelatte Salad -<a href="http://www.recipefy.com/en/mushroom-and-dolcelatte-salad/recipes/21784" target="_blank"> recipe link</a></i>.</td></tr>
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because they were a product of a living thing. I still have qualms about the way that milk is produced and I have to admit, this is something I am almost deliberately keeping myself un-informed about, just because the vegan diet did eventually make me feel so exhausted and drained.<br />
<br />
Nowadays, I am an ovo-lacto vegetarian and I greatly enjoy experimenting with new flavours and ingredients in my cooking. Whilst I don't always find cooking the relaxing experience some might, I do enjoy greatly creating new recipes, learning and developing new skills and techniques and sharing what I've made with other people. As my hips will attest, I love my food, and I take great pleasure in sharing and eating meals I've created myself.<br />
<br />
I'm an avid<i> <a href="http://pinterest.com/chunkymonkey/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a></i> fan and store recipes and ideas I find all over the internet on my pinboard <i><a href="http://pinterest.com/chunkymonkey/nom-nom-nom/" target="_blank">Nom, Nom, Nom</a>.</i> I have also recently started uploading and sharing my new recipes on <i><a href="http://www.recipefy.com/en/user/8687" target="_blank">Recipefy</a></i>. I love the opportunities the internet has to explore recipes, ideas and the endless culinary experiences to be had out there. Below is my own recipe for <i>Creamed Spinach Gnocchi</i> which I wrote up to send to a friend, to prove how quick and tasty gnocchi could be. It is, like all my favourite recipes, easy, delicious and quick!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<i><b><a href="http://www.recipefy.com/en/creamed-spinach-gnocchi/recipes/6108" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">Creamed Spinach Gnocchi</span></a></b></i><br />
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ginzv1yAvtMEyfIiNCXPdw1lx7QwMgpK4lRL9xCktCkvaAZuzf4R3ZurV_zLBFj6ETkiukqLvCgND_SrsDQBe-ct445Z0kRWBmSQmhNKmy8APfrcRkLAP6gOMltw6cziSlF07W457Rc/s1600/5577320422_spinach_gnocchi-jpg%7D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5ginzv1yAvtMEyfIiNCXPdw1lx7QwMgpK4lRL9xCktCkvaAZuzf4R3ZurV_zLBFj6ETkiukqLvCgND_SrsDQBe-ct445Z0kRWBmSQmhNKmy8APfrcRkLAP6gOMltw6cziSlF07W457Rc/s200/5577320422_spinach_gnocchi-jpg%7D.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a><i><br /></i></div>
<div>
Serves two people.<br />
<br />
Total time of prep and cooking - about 12 minutes and it only uses one pan!<i><br /></i><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Ingredients</div>
<div>
<br />
<ul>
<li>1 pack of ready made gnocchi (you can make your own - I've used this recipe but it isn't really worth it in my opinion <a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fgoo.gl%2F5Y1dY&h=IAQEtnCT5&s=1">http://goo.gl/5Y1dY</a>)</li>
<li>1 bag of fresh spinach, chopped and steamed / 1/2 a can of prepared spinach / 12 blocks of frozen chopped spinach</li>
<li>1/2 tub of mascarpone</li>
<li>Splash of single cream / milk</li>
<li>1 tsp of green pesto</li>
<li>Pinch of ground nutmeg</li>
<li>Teaspoon of vegetable bouillon powder</li>
<li>Small block of parmesan / gran padano</li>
</ul>
<br />
<ol>
<li>Put a big pan of water on to boil- you can use this time to defrost frozen spinach if using / grate the cheese etc.</li>
<li>Once water is boiling add the bouillon and once it is dissolved, add the gnocchi</li>
<li>The gnocchi will need about 8 minutes (check the packet!)</li>
<li>Once it is ready (it will float to the top of the pan) you can put it in a colander to sit whilst you whip up the sauce</li>
<li>Put the spinach back into the empty hot pan and back on the stove to boil away the extra liquid (needs attention so it doesn't stick)</li>
<li>Once it is quite 'dry' and sticking together add all the other ingredients and stir whilst it warms up - its better to avoid it boiling.</li>
<li>Tip the gnocchi in to the sauce, stir well and serve with parmesan sprinkled over it!</li>
<li>Scoff the lot!</li>
</ol>
</div>
</div>
Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-65825087838475146062013-04-24T23:00:00.000+02:002013-04-27T15:13:27.517+02:00U is for Uppity Fabulous<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0RnZdBLMvrBXyX68fJDSFtmQ1E0fJiiYCB-i-tKdHvykLxbKh4jKbnyV8AZXfRw0LHZOn8Y_TNl3-Yi5r58EEHXJ8-QaBysVa8gRVLTscu1I8q4B5-f6CXuZ3Ojd8iljKSD-QJ9LTX70/s1600/46658_464395930305_5865273_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0RnZdBLMvrBXyX68fJDSFtmQ1E0fJiiYCB-i-tKdHvykLxbKh4jKbnyV8AZXfRw0LHZOn8Y_TNl3-Yi5r58EEHXJ8-QaBysVa8gRVLTscu1I8q4B5-f6CXuZ3Ojd8iljKSD-QJ9LTX70/s200/46658_464395930305_5865273_n.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Sharon in full on glamping<br />mode - Leeds Fest 2010.</i></td></tr>
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When working at a former College, I was asked, by a senior member of staff, to do something that I knew was not only unethical but actually illegal. When I refused, he was not best pleased by my attitude as it caused a little more work for him and, as a result, he referred to me as being 'uppity'. As you can imagine, this caused great hilarity when I heard this. The colleague he had said this to, my best friend, Sharon, decided there and then to re-christen me Uppity, in memory of this colossal example of un-professionalism. A little later, I had one of many unexpected, unrequested, and rather surprising, proposals of marriage, via <i>MySpace -</i> this time from a gentlemen named Gregory Fabulous. On discussion with Sharon we decided that I should snap up this tempting offer immediately - if only as I could then legitimately be called Sarah Fabulous, or, indeed, Uppity Fabulous. The name just stuck.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwY1wZxf5Y1DFzgjcy8hSgm1HlMfhiZCONvsBNPRKCCZNEQkvJgqX3LDJgoN9qDytBjFDf5QnCiTxR6GAlyUboGA98QUXbP1LP1BE-rfRB6p-w7MloIgJUsv0abFsPidN5h5mmPRBZGM/s1600/badges.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKwY1wZxf5Y1DFzgjcy8hSgm1HlMfhiZCONvsBNPRKCCZNEQkvJgqX3LDJgoN9qDytBjFDf5QnCiTxR6GAlyUboGA98QUXbP1LP1BE-rfRB6p-w7MloIgJUsv0abFsPidN5h5mmPRBZGM/s320/badges.jpg" width="112" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Relics from our<br />badge-making<br />frenzy!</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When I started at the College of unreasonable requests, I had a little office, all of my own, that was at the back of the staff-office for the 3D Design team. I didn't know anyone and was very nervous, but one morning, quite early on, one of the 3D Lecturers introduced herself as Sharon, before turning round to continue what seemed to be a drumming workshop with one of the students. At the time, I thought nothing of it and, in retrospect, it was, perhaps, an odd thing to be doing in a staff office, but I liked her style. A few days later, I got talking to Sharon some more and her sense of humour and cynical approach to the more ridiculous elements of our jobs told me that I had found a kindred spirit.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jx7sUJl1TE_9I2r-e-gzm04IARqxY7qX7KX5m6bqi8P-G5J4UA6IGcOZgTm8j4Ge6PGRwy3u14tK0cEHnhrRDw__9K_iVAV2kCG3WDur9dDmzgof5P_BxCSed_Px36d4Qlf1uXQ61OU/s1600/shopboughtbirthdaycake2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2jx7sUJl1TE_9I2r-e-gzm04IARqxY7qX7KX5m6bqi8P-G5J4UA6IGcOZgTm8j4Ge6PGRwy3u14tK0cEHnhrRDw__9K_iVAV2kCG3WDur9dDmzgof5P_BxCSed_Px36d4Qlf1uXQ61OU/s320/shopboughtbirthdaycake2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A shop-bought cake I decorated with sausage rolls<br />for Sharon's birthday - the lucky girl!</i></td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
We have had many adventures together and whenever we are, we have so much fun. With a shared love of champagne, frozen After Eights, button badges, Amy Winehouse and laughing until our faces hurt, nothing beats a night with YouTube up and running and some fizz on ice at, The Lodge, Sharon's apartment. She is still mock-furious with me for abandoning her in Yorkshire and coming down South, but I always look forward so much to my visits back home and a chance to see my girls at The Lodge.<br />
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj14vfWxJRSqANOYXcJafJO11WnSHciGFZERupP5OY1Yb9SoMOdbdYpVYd5SWhpSxmnSupkcfKsVRLdSqG38T6B1nrlvkS_ESMrYesHooLNeFbcB5rbSA0kBlY_uGPY9zEDbyMsQEgkJvQ/s1600/morecambe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj14vfWxJRSqANOYXcJafJO11WnSHciGFZERupP5OY1Yb9SoMOdbdYpVYd5SWhpSxmnSupkcfKsVRLdSqG38T6B1nrlvkS_ESMrYesHooLNeFbcB5rbSA0kBlY_uGPY9zEDbyMsQEgkJvQ/s320/morecambe.jpg" width="221" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>With Eric in Morecambe!</i></td></tr>
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On a particularly memorable trip we went to Morecambe, to see the statue of one of my heroes, Eric Morecambe, have a gander at the newly restored Midland Hotel and get a bit of sea air. We went in November, in freezing fog and we had a ball. It was 'bastard freezing' but we did get all the way through the fog to the cafe at the end of the pier, only to find that we were low on cash and they didn't take card payments. We shared a chip butty and a cup of tea and it was all the more delicious for the adventure of getting there.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIMWg_oh9oj2-qh1jxZCZM0vVfobhJTR4A31-KjXvDnhSA3hxpdUJpAKACfOKCEkaeWsdtsBgBqWfFxEsJM7_BdETvmp1kFWhumpMV_vMA7inU7ed0GDpck3cKocC0IlTF5bbm98uayO0/s1600/lost+in+gdansk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIMWg_oh9oj2-qh1jxZCZM0vVfobhJTR4A31-KjXvDnhSA3hxpdUJpAKACfOKCEkaeWsdtsBgBqWfFxEsJM7_BdETvmp1kFWhumpMV_vMA7inU7ed0GDpck3cKocC0IlTF5bbm98uayO0/s320/lost+in+gdansk.jpg" width="193" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>With some of the students whilst<br />probably lost in Gdansk.</i></td></tr>
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<br />
In 2009, we took a group of students to Gdansk, in Poland, one <br />
of the student's home town, and proceeded to be given some of the strangest tours of a city I've ever had. Whilst there we went to 'the seaside', Brzezno, and almost froze to death. We got off at the wrong train stop on our way there, to discover that our guide had absolutely no idea where we were and even that didn't dull our excitement. The cakes we discovered were, rather surprisingly, filled with soft cheese and we drank vodka, whilst making friends with local youths, keen to share with us their enthusiasm for all things English - particularly 60's music. We barely stopped laughing the whole time - from trying on the costumes, clearly meant for children, in the museum, to the endless meandering circular tours we took when trying to find anything - we had a fabulous time.<br />
<br />
In 2010, we heard that The Libertines, a band Sharon had introduced me to, were going to be reforming to play the Leeds Festival. I booked the tickets as a surprise, as we had not been able to get them when they were first released, and we decided to glamp it up. Although living under canvas was quite a test of our friendship, we did have an amazing time. The sleep-less night-times, the toothpaste explosion in our tent awning and the unexpected squalor of camping were all worth it for the music and the memories.<br />
<br />
Sharon's daughters are also very dear to me and it is fascinating to me to see aspects of their Mum's personality, that I love so much, reflected in them. Chelsea still lives at home and is one of my favourite people ever. She has joined us on lots of our adventures, was my dance partner for most of my 30th Birthday Party and enjoys lots of running jokes with me. She is a such a little smasher and her nickname 'Cheeky Chops' really does sum up her mischievous nature!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Dancing with Cheeky Chops at my 30th<br />birthday - she danced all night! </i></td></tr>
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We've both had some bad times and we've often relied on each other to get perspective and work through the tough stuff. During some sad times I developed several techniques to get my bestie smiling again, including a solo performance of Beyonce's Single Ladies dance (well, the bits I could remember and not the bits of the floor because I couldn't do them). We also went on lots of impromptu trips out to the seaside, Ikea, Yorkshire Sculpture Park, shopping centres and walks in the countryside. She is always good at backing me up when I'm unsure, pointing out when other people are being unfair to me and making me smile when I'm super grumpy. She is brilliant.<br />
<br />
Sadly, Gregory Fabulous never did get back in touch, so I have effectively stolen his name without warrant, but I am proud to be Uppity Fabulous - all the more as I was given it by one of the most brilliant, witty, caring and intelligent people I have ever met.<br />
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Sharon 'Fuckity' Fortune - I love you!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Leeds Festival 2010. </i></td></tr>
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<br />Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-72935936526816759212013-04-23T01:12:00.004+02:002013-04-23T19:21:26.406+02:00T is for That London<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ever since I was little I've had a fascination with 'that' London. It seemed to be a magical place, to me, at home in the Midlands. It was where all the exciting exhibitions and events that they talked about on <i>Blue Peter</i> happened and where the characters in my favourite book, <i>Ballet Shoes</i>, lived. It was where the wiggly blue river on the <i>EastEnders</i> map was and I knew that the programmes made by Thames Television started with a view of the London skyline reflected in the Thames River.<br />
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After being given the chance to choose what I wanted to do for my 13th birthday, I made the rather lavish request to go to That London with my family. I'd definitely been to the big smoke during my younger years, as my parents had tales about me freaking out massively at the pigeons in Trafalgar Square, but my memories are hazy. In the midst of my burgeoning tie-dye phase, I was keen to get to Carnaby Street, which I had heard so much about, and wanted to buy myself a hat - a hat from That London. I remember having a wonderful birthday, staying in a hotel in Victoria, (where they excitingly had a fire alarm in the middle of the <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A very bad photo of David on The March<br />for the Alternative protest we went on, 2011.</i></td></tr>
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night) and I used my birthday money to buy a rather lush black, velvet, floppy-brimmed hat. I'm relieved to say that no photos of me in said hat exist (as far as I know). I'm sure I looked very silly, but I felt AMAZING!<br />
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When my rather sullen French penpal came to stay on a French exchange, organised by my school in 1994, my parents once again made plans to take us to London. Depressingly, she was not impressed by Big Ben, London Bridge or Trafalgar Square, but my Dad did agree to accompany her on the one thing she did want to see - Rock Circus, the, now thankfully closed, tourist trap waxwork museum. We didn't get on much and I'm still grateful to my parents for dragging this frankly disinterested and rude teenage girl to so many lovely places whilst attempting to make her stay interesting and engaging. In return, I did have a wonderful time with her friendly and kind family when I returned to Lyon.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"The actual Big Ben!"</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Bradford girls out in the big city -<br />we were all a bit giddy!</i></td></tr>
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When the course I taught on in Bradford<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sarahholmes/sets/72157623423801908/" target="_blank"> won a Beacon Award in 2010</a>, I bought a couple of students down from Bradford for the awards ceremony, and a whistle-stop tour of some of the sights. They were very sweet and for one of them, it was their first visit to the city. We had a great time and I will never forget the exclamation from one of them when we emerged from Westminster tube station - "Bloody hell - it is the actual Big Ben... for real!" It was nice to see such wonder on a, usually, all-too cynical 17 year-old face. The year after, I bought a whole class of first year learners from the same course down for<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sarahholmes/sets/72157623895267843/" target="_blank"> a four day visit to the capital</a>. It was a highly stressful experience in many ways, as the potential dangers that could befall a group of 18 teenagers in the scary city were massive. In the end, though, they did all enjoy what was, for many, their first taste of London life. One of the most unfortunate truths about the city is the price of everything. This was highlighted by one student who, when asked what he thought of the British Museum, simply rolled his eyes and said with disdain and disbelief "They wanted £1.80 for a bottle of Coke?!.." You can't win them all.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Great graffiti on Curtain Street.</i></td></tr>
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I regularly visited London for my work with the exam board but when I met David I saw new parts of the city and had the opportunity to view it from a different perspective. To see the back routes, shortcuts and alleys, only known to those who have walked a city's streets many times, is always a privilege. It was exciting to go off the main roads and routes and see some of the hidden art, fascinating buildings and surprise gems in the forms of quirky pubs and restaurants in unexpected places. It reminded me once again of what it was about That London that I had been fascinated by all those years ago.<br />
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Living as I do now, just 45 minutes away from the centre of the city, I visit remarkably rarely, really. I've recently taken the students from my current<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A picnic in St. James' Park with friends in 2011.</i></td></tr>
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college on trips to Central London and the frantic nature of the transport, streets and public spaces was irritating and un-nerving. However, I have also had times on my own, with David and with friends that have been simply marvellous. It is a city that is so many different things, crammed so closely together that it can never fail to be exciting, surprising and vibrant and that is one of the many reasons why I still love it.<br />
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<b>5 of my favourite places in London:</b><br />
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1. Russell Square Gardens, for its outdoor cafe, beautiful fountains and wonderful lawns. David and I shared a lovely afternoon sunbathing there on one of my first visits to London to see him and my friend Moira and I had afternoon tea there on her last visit to the city.<br />
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2. The Chandos, for its air of excitement on a Saturday evening and the good beer! A real find of a pub, not far from Leicester Square, it serves Sam Smith's beer - a treat from the North, at a reasonable price. I arranged David's surprise <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sarahholmes/sets/72157627754276005/" target="_blank">30th birthday party</a> here in 2011.<br />
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3. The Tate Modern, for its inspiration. Not a shocking or unusual choice, but every time I go there I am inspired or excited by something I see. Most memorably for me was <a href="http://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/exhibition/unilever-series-miroslaw-balka-how-it" target="_blank">Miroslaw Balka's <i>How It Is</i></a>, one of the annual installations in the Turbine Hall. Stepping inside this void space was both frightening and exciting and really stayed with me.<br />
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4. Highgate Village, for its charm and serendipity. David appeared in a play in Highgate in 2011 and I had some time to kill whilst he prepared for the show that evening. I spent a lovely afternoon reading a book I had just purchased - <i>Her Fearful Symmetry</i> by Audrey Niffenegger - which happened to be set in Highgate itself. It was wonderful sitting in a cafe, looking up to see the very landscape being described in the book itself.<br />
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5. <a href="http://dovehammersmith.co.uk/" target="_blank">The Dove, Hammersmith</a> - for its view of the river. Near to <i>Kelmscott House</i>, where William Morris lived in his later years, this gem of a pub has a wonderful dining area that looks out over the river. I spent a memorable sunny afternoon there, again with a book, whilst waiting for one of David's performances to begin. Beautiful and serene and a world away from the hectic city.<br />
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Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-15575435172081535522013-04-22T00:30:00.000+02:002013-04-22T09:35:34.372+02:00S is for Spaced<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRhYQkKkGc5gwToeJuNLsxONpMZfCb46YpSCJWNYBesgLnQZtjvmDMLHZ0658kowbkfFlfy5dXhyOby9_oUt-kVr_z_w6WFLo0VpOWl2Nlln2J5aVsVQBMCCJlNd7PV-wNklvqc59KJqc/s1600/spaced1-732318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRhYQkKkGc5gwToeJuNLsxONpMZfCb46YpSCJWNYBesgLnQZtjvmDMLHZ0658kowbkfFlfy5dXhyOby9_oUt-kVr_z_w6WFLo0VpOWl2Nlln2J5aVsVQBMCCJlNd7PV-wNklvqc59KJqc/s320/spaced1-732318.jpg" width="320" /></a><i>Spaced</i> is, without doubt, my all-time favourite television sit-com. I could wax lyrical about <i>Father Ted</i>, <i>Red Dwarf</i> , <i>The Royle Family</i>, <i>The Thick of It</i> or many, many other classics, but for me <i>Spaced </i>has everything. There are believable characters you really care about, pop culture references scattered throughout, a great balance between realism and dream-sequence stylings, a great soundtrack, fantastically frenetic music-video edits and, of course, the hilariously funny writing.<br />
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Written by Simon Pegg and Jessica Hynes (then Jessica Stevenson) the series follows Tim Bisley, graphic artist and comic shop employee, and Daisy Steiner, a currently unemployed aspiring journalist, as they decide to rent a flat together. At the heart of the series is the premise that Tim and Daisy, despite being relative strangers when they first move in, pretend to be a couple, believing that to be a requirement of renting their flat. We meet some other residents of the building including Marsha, their wine-loving landlady, and Brian, the artist that 'rents downstairs'. Tim's friend, the gun-toting Mike, and Daisy's fashion-mad friend, Twist, also join the narrative as it unfolds, each episode revealing new layers of the relationship between this group of friends.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyOo-zGvxjeObM5Xok27wqeD6ZzTvOUT6sijS598y-JtX0xDTZ-sIihyphenhyphenVzft9fxuzJJ5Tn-38l7V11XWnapVzPoOnzqnrlIMR75rrhU6gQuoX1me4ZDgUuzHkvwCLAviL4MFdqiMFhX8/s1600/tim1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFyOo-zGvxjeObM5Xok27wqeD6ZzTvOUT6sijS598y-JtX0xDTZ-sIihyphenhyphenVzft9fxuzJJ5Tn-38l7V11XWnapVzPoOnzqnrlIMR75rrhU6gQuoX1me4ZDgUuzHkvwCLAviL4MFdqiMFhX8/s320/tim1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Right from the start, the writing is media-savvy, and aware that its audience is too. We are introduced to our main protagonists backgrounds cleverly through the device of them having to learn each other's history in order to appear as though they are a couple. This slickly edited sequence not only fills us in on the nature of these two characters, whilst referencing a number of different films, but also shows to us how little they really know each other. The efficiency of the exposition is incredible and, as a result, the audience are immersed so quickly and effectively, that the first episode flies by, making us feel that we have known these characters for a lot longer than we have.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/clIZuXyHNe0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhMkeCzCRaYhVFOB_uHOPRdRYyHKvwtPbNaly0McDDhMg3Rw92YajlToQBg6_-dtDedmqQ78W9b3YLdwauvhhAk8MZaaitSxjR2hH1l34Ycu6hExo9UlDk_4u1A_j_a65-nnIsPYfj3rM/s1600/velma.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhMkeCzCRaYhVFOB_uHOPRdRYyHKvwtPbNaly0McDDhMg3Rw92YajlToQBg6_-dtDedmqQ78W9b3YLdwauvhhAk8MZaaitSxjR2hH1l34Ycu6hExo9UlDk_4u1A_j_a65-nnIsPYfj3rM/s1600/velma.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tim & Daisy = More Shaggy and Velma than<br />Fred and Daphne.</i></td></tr>
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In the past, some people have suggested there are similarities between the character of Daisy, and I - something I've often shied away from. Sure, there is, in her, the journalistic ambitions I once held, the constant tea-drinking, the propensity to procrastinate, the love of plastic jewellery and the Velma-not-Daphne <i>Scooby Doo </i>characteristics. I did, also, once write a piece for the magazine called 'Winter Skincare Do's and Don'ts', as does Daisy, in one of her few published pieces of work. I would previously blush at the comparisons, perhaps because I could also see some of my less favourable traits in her character. Her laziness, insecurity and tendency to say the wrong thing when it matters most are things I can see in my own character. However, in recent years, I have come to see the comparison as a flattering thing, as Daisy is really quite a hero. Nothing says it better than this brilliant piece all about Ms. Steiner on <i>Wit&Fancy </i>(<a href="http://witandfancy.com/2012/02/13/awesome-female-characters-daisy-steiner-patron-saint-of-girl-geeks/" target="_blank">link)</a>.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5qk-derwd7Pq9RH7a3ObO1DLaIROauPA-8HqQwjH19fCJEWr-00qKaaCbwvwfyYLTiGrTKip4gwB7Dvkc6uQ-1SEu39xoPvGFJhNNPX8bl5bGcqDiYRrGlzZXp8f0e2rUkT3I4h2wFQo/s1600/spaced.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5qk-derwd7Pq9RH7a3ObO1DLaIROauPA-8HqQwjH19fCJEWr-00qKaaCbwvwfyYLTiGrTKip4gwB7Dvkc6uQ-1SEu39xoPvGFJhNNPX8bl5bGcqDiYRrGlzZXp8f0e2rUkT3I4h2wFQo/s320/spaced.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>There is an underlying possibility of romance between<br />Tim and Daisy throughout the show, but<br />crucially it does not diminish from the focus that<br />this show is about a group of friends.</i></td></tr>
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Choosing my favourite clip from <i>Spaced</i> is pretty impossible. Episodes hang together so well that it is always hard to select one element that is more or less funny, immersive and enjoyable. I do love the idea of an unspoken <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7sqSQ5Vu8vM" target="_blank">telepathic mime-combat skills</a> that exist within a group of men and<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W2tLKjeOstg" target="_blank"> the subsequent sequence </a>after a night out in Camden. I love the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aFuYjrG8VxQ" target="_blank">cleverly intercut sequence from the very first episode</a> where we see Tim and Daisy in a conversation that ends a relationship - only revealing at the last that they are not actually speaking to one another, but two other soon-to-be-ex partners. The final sequence in season 2 where we see the group reform after a turbulent time to the strains of <i>Lemon Jelly</i>'s marvellous track, <i>The Staunton Lick</i> is so emotional<i>.</i> So many fabulous moments, such memorable scenes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxrnLfKPoJUOV2TrkRhX9EWE4Tf1-GrQTBfdTxQhTHYpdNuR3F0-StCXjvWEkviMShIMuQlIOr5oqC0t7MQPZgBqO1rXSI5TZAIWtn5BmKjvgFprKCdWHUDqrNVM-cDR5ChsRCyS9ujpE/s1600/girlpower.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="102" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxrnLfKPoJUOV2TrkRhX9EWE4Tf1-GrQTBfdTxQhTHYpdNuR3F0-StCXjvWEkviMShIMuQlIOr5oqC0t7MQPZgBqO1rXSI5TZAIWtn5BmKjvgFprKCdWHUDqrNVM-cDR5ChsRCyS9ujpE/s200/girlpower.png" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiKPlIwrjAo79aXF4e4XqZJQVYNgzUCeiZpXPfgpW7l5iuWqsaY56hLL-PeuXbzE9g8MZCSLn8Qd_ZGOdLAT7tN7n-C2gYck6aJwfvIYXgvLCKVQLPc2oAAiN40ufNgUAdh_PP7gzoHM/s1600/burn+the+waistcoat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiKPlIwrjAo79aXF4e4XqZJQVYNgzUCeiZpXPfgpW7l5iuWqsaY56hLL-PeuXbzE9g8MZCSLn8Qd_ZGOdLAT7tN7n-C2gYck6aJwfvIYXgvLCKVQLPc2oAAiN40ufNgUAdh_PP7gzoHM/s320/burn+the+waistcoat.jpg" width="278" /></a>If I had to chose a favourite episode, I think I would go for <i>Art, </i>Episode 3 from Series 1. It features a marvellous opening sequence where a hallucinating Tim fights off zombies and Mike has managed a cross-country journey by train, whilst 'chemically refreshed'. Brian agonises over whether to attend a piece of performance art by his former partner and 'non-gender-specific-ex-chaste-heterosexual-lover', including a fantastic sequence where he chooses what to wear, whilst Daisy manages to get an interview at a new women's magazine. Like so much of the writing on the series, it interweaves the different characters' narrative strands together expertly, concluding eventually in a shared experience - the gang together again. Like <i>Scooby-Doo, </i>in a way. There are many stand-out moments from this episode but this fabulous scene, which features Tim attempting to console Daisy after her rather appalling performance at a promising job interview is just brilliant, in every sense.<br />
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If you've never seen <i>Spaced</i>, I heartily recommend it. <a href="http://www.play.com/DVD/DVD/4-/924180/Spaced-The-Definitive-Edition-Series-1-2/Product.html?searchstring=spaced&searchsource=0&searchtype=allproducts&urlrefer=search" target="_blank">You can get Series 1 and 2 in a boxset for less than £7! </a></div>
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<br />Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-20789461249290523452013-04-20T23:00:00.000+02:002013-04-21T12:02:05.700+02:00R is for Reasons to be Cheerful<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAhD-Hor2QnE4ObgXK_jah3mOcTIi9gOB8qhC91VRs3SY8l2bef_tmfKQLoWFYl855FhdfAm_VMvexYbPr-EaU5dLnu3IcLDGgxYNZxmHn6hgucGAL3EPgO4uy7cp0dzKGBxEGgHfemew/s1600/Thumbsupsmile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAhD-Hor2QnE4ObgXK_jah3mOcTIi9gOB8qhC91VRs3SY8l2bef_tmfKQLoWFYl855FhdfAm_VMvexYbPr-EaU5dLnu3IcLDGgxYNZxmHn6hgucGAL3EPgO4uy7cp0dzKGBxEGgHfemew/s200/Thumbsupsmile.jpg" width="199" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>In extreme cases, a thumbs-up may<br />be required to accompany your smile.</i></td></tr>
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I believe greatly in the importance of finding the positive in life. I have a tendency towards cynicism and suspicion at times and this can sometimes lead to something of a downward spiral. It isn't always possible, and there have been some dark times in my life where I've struggled to find the light. However, I have learned, that the best way to have a happy day, is to start it with as near to a smile as I can muster.<br />
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I am, by nature, not a 'morning person'. I adore my sleepytimes and the process of leaving my bed and <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilpkcev7SGB7rTlzuqYhi4dZUIvEWeIBPj4MDeZ3-Qoo7KuYIZvzdIIwzCt1rvtiT-6OkyHXN2lhpoWfuQhO1Pg6GhysfU1ffHcGelP4gVG0hAf6nBF4d7ZgSyi1XqtuhyphenhyphenUBKAswyTYgI/s1600/morecambewise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilpkcev7SGB7rTlzuqYhi4dZUIvEWeIBPj4MDeZ3-Qoo7KuYIZvzdIIwzCt1rvtiT-6OkyHXN2lhpoWfuQhO1Pg6GhysfU1ffHcGelP4gVG0hAf6nBF4d7ZgSyi1XqtuhyphenhyphenUBKAswyTYgI/s320/morecambewise.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Just thinking about the Morecambe & Wise <br />breakfast sketch makes me giggle.</i></td></tr>
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having to face the world is frankly, quite traumatic. Living only 10 minutes walk from work, I find I can get to a point where I roll out of bed, get dressed in a hurry and then stagger over the road to face my 9am class in about 30 minutes. As tempting as giving in to the snooze button like this is, it doesn't lead to a positive start to the day, as I tend to growl as I enter the building and that only ever leads to a growl in return.<br />
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Long ago, I decided that the way to at least start the day in a positive mood was to find something to smile about before I entered the building. No matter what it is, to think of something I am grateful for, something that <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKeTtRxo4KHITYGd9Y_eL5JMFHrD0OYPV-19h30JVaLtZNEI5CZuTA8Bsqrz0W5R0KenJSI6Kbe9HfrHkcaJsttxM3cxh4GZQ93oXi5SGEYjBoS8OyPzeb6DidTP0vWuCk81ZLD5WfFWM/s1600/sharonantlers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKeTtRxo4KHITYGd9Y_eL5JMFHrD0OYPV-19h30JVaLtZNEI5CZuTA8Bsqrz0W5R0KenJSI6Kbe9HfrHkcaJsttxM3cxh4GZQ93oXi5SGEYjBoS8OyPzeb6DidTP0vWuCk81ZLD5WfFWM/s320/sharonantlers.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Thinking about antics with my friend, Sharon, <br />always makes me smile.</i></td></tr>
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makes me laugh or something I am looking forward on my short walk to work, makes a massive difference. Sometimes, when the stress kicks in and I'm dreading going in at all, it can be hard to find something to be cheerful about. However, even if it just the thought that I don't have to see a particular group or individual that day, then that has to do.<br />
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I make an effort to wish the security guard, the lady in the canteen, my colleagues and, of course, my students a cheery good morning - partly because it seems to make them feel good, but also, (perhaps more selfishly), because I also kind of fall for it myself. I find myself <br />
naturally beaming on the most leaden of November mornings because, ultimately, I get<br />
that greeting reflected back at me, from colleagues, from students, from everyone, and a little morning sunshine bursts through the clouds.<br />
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There are, of course, millions of reasons to be cheerful and so many little things can make a day all the <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu960wV0P60O29s39Vsc5ho309oyjMLQ_WbFu9bAspAf3hOQsDgmOXb6fEG7GmpJPv7scNzVOV8Pp4g4tsduA2Rpm02dro2ZZnaEFyytwPg6aRjp-09qJOFGHeseL5spPpGk6HQL14jGs/s1600/ikeasmile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu960wV0P60O29s39Vsc5ho309oyjMLQ_WbFu9bAspAf3hOQsDgmOXb6fEG7GmpJPv7scNzVOV8Pp4g4tsduA2Rpm02dro2ZZnaEFyytwPg6aRjp-09qJOFGHeseL5spPpGk6HQL14jGs/s320/ikeasmile.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Even the horrors of an Ikea visit can be overcome<br />with a smile (double thumbs-up may be required for<br />more heavy-duty purchases).</i></td></tr>
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more pleasurable - the smell of fresh coffee, the feeling of fresh new bed linen, cute old ladies, birdsong, the fact that otters exist... my list goes on. It is, undoubtedly, though, far too easy to miss these things on a daily basis and, all too often, I have found myself overlooking the bright-side for a whine about the inconsiderate nature of others, or to find fault with the modern world.<br />
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As flippant as all this may sound, I am aware that I am a very lucky individual who has so much, simply because of where I was born, who I was born to and what has happened to me in my life. There are, below, ten reasons, above all others that I should be cheerful, and thankful, every day of my life.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD5A9ERYH1BCJ-cnruC0PI0xSI4NO-jUKLfuxg9xrl5TmCcSuFrgYiPm2q6YL3Q464Aqs0OyUg0NMOmfwbpv1zZVlbclDeuKw3q-s8aq9KMlea3fq1m-ycuCqCzM8uQfDBZJlWa2gqbv8/s1600/crazycousins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD5A9ERYH1BCJ-cnruC0PI0xSI4NO-jUKLfuxg9xrl5TmCcSuFrgYiPm2q6YL3Q464Aqs0OyUg0NMOmfwbpv1zZVlbclDeuKw3q-s8aq9KMlea3fq1m-ycuCqCzM8uQfDBZJlWa2gqbv8/s400/crazycousins.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My crazy family - all my cousins pictured here - and the<br />fact that they embrace their daftness, make me smile.</i></td></tr>
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<b>10 reasons I have to be cheerful - every day of my life. </b><br />
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1. I have a safe, warm and furnished home to return to every day, unlike the <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2012/mar/08/homelessness-jumps-repossession-unemployment">48,000 households</a> currently classed as homeless in the UK.<br />
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2. I am lucky enough to be able to feed myself (often far more than I need), when <a href="http://www.wfp.org/news/news-release/and-nominees-arehelping-hungry-people-around-world-says-wfp">25,000 people a day</a> die from starvation, worldwide, every day.<br />
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3. I have been given the opportunity to access education throughout my life, with the support of state-funded schools, my parents' encouragement and financial support and my own funds. <a href="http://rsf.wpengine.com/facts-about-girls-education/">170 million children</a> across the world aren't given the chance to attend school - 70% of them, girls. </div>
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4. I live in a time, and place of peace, (despite my shouty neighbours) where I am safe from the daily threat of violence and war. The ongoing war in Afghanistan and Iraq alone has cost over <a href="http://costsofwar.org/">330,000 lives already</a>.<br />
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5. I am lucky enough to be free from any of the diseases that kill <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/news/datablog/2012/nov/06/deaths-mortality-rates-cause-death-2011">300,000 people</a> in the UK every year. <br />
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6. I currently (despite the best efforts of our current government) have access to free healthcare, ensuring that no matter what happens, I know I will be given the treatment needed to remain healthy. <br />
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7. Unlike so many <a href="http://www.prisonersofconscience.org/">prisoners of conscience</a> all over the world, I have the freedom to express my own thoughts, opinions and ideas - including on this very blog - without fear of imprisonment, torture or a death sentence for doing so.<br />
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8. I have access to the information, services and support I need to be able to make my own decisions about if and when I have children - unlike women all over the world, <a href="http://www.amnesty.org.uk/content.asp?CategoryID=11178">where pregnancy kills one woman every minute</a>, due to poverty, lack of education, discrimination or violence.<br />
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9. The choice about who, and if, I marry is mine, unlike the huge numbers of girls placed in arranged marriages by their parents across the world, including <a href="http://www.statisticbrain.com/arranged-marriage-statistics/">27% of girls under the age of 15</a>, in precisely that position, in Bangladesh.<br />
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10. I have a loving boyfriend, a supportive family and lots of friends who I care for greatly. Ultimately, these are the greatest gifts in the world and matter more than anything that the day could throw at me.<br />
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PS - Answers to <a href="http://insarahslife.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/q-is-for-quizzing.html" target="_blank">yesterday's quizzing questions</a>: 1) Alpine Skiing, Snow Boarding, Ice Hockey, Luge. 2) Emma Bovary, Juliet Capulet, Ajax, Cio-cio San</i><br />
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Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-81621390347882796052013-04-19T22:18:00.000+02:002013-04-21T12:01:12.561+02:00Q is for QuizzingI love a good quiz. Don't get me wrong, I hate exams and tests and anything where I have to remember content under pressure for any really important reason. But I love a quiz. Dredging up that fact from somewhere at the back of the brain, the frustration when you hear an answer that you know you knew, but couldn't quite bring to mind - the whole deal.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk5LSztyNteg2F3Vt58MLYJo_FKtQc1Hl5zyi6LfoM-vyM4v6_qVE3C5NoFN7T_QtS6DM2ooZZiNptF1Kw8isn-9_4o5IEYv94KZgZ4e4-e0jNF7S9DzQlCy6_HronMRrOueke8rwxGZY/s1600/POINTLESS-008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk5LSztyNteg2F3Vt58MLYJo_FKtQc1Hl5zyi6LfoM-vyM4v6_qVE3C5NoFN7T_QtS6DM2ooZZiNptF1Kw8isn-9_4o5IEYv94KZgZ4e4-e0jNF7S9DzQlCy6_HronMRrOueke8rwxGZY/s320/POINTLESS-008.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Some good serious quizzing faces here from our hosts.</i></td></tr>
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On TV, I love a bit of BBC's <i>Pointless </i>- trying to remember facts and then establish what may be least well remembered by those polled. I have a strict policy of abandonment, however, if people get through to the final round and then pick a rubbish subject, like sports. I'll even turn over to ITV for a bit of <i>The Chase</i>, if my early evening quiz needs have not been sated, but it isn't quite as good. I've taken groups of students to see both of these shows being recorded as part of their course. It is fascinating to see the studio in action when such things are filmed, but hard to stop myself shouting out the answers like I do at home.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYprjMR0mLXFW3wSGWPaVX2Ub6FPOsq688V7velaj80GyqjJK-DXxfNmso9NvQgPBtgbrKMtfzsiQdC1f55qtOOdDdN8zVUpYCbzPV58M1R-jj17_7wNDrKite_l2vJAr0j3LEcKmlJT4/s1600/universitychallenge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYprjMR0mLXFW3wSGWPaVX2Ub6FPOsq688V7velaj80GyqjJK-DXxfNmso9NvQgPBtgbrKMtfzsiQdC1f55qtOOdDdN8zVUpYCbzPV58M1R-jj17_7wNDrKite_l2vJAr0j3LEcKmlJT4/s320/universitychallenge.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I fancy Manchester for 2013 University Challenge<br />Champions - they play their next match on Monday!</i></td></tr>
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I really enjoy <i><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b006t6l0" target="_blank">University Challenge</a></i> - although I rarely get any of the answers right. I think the mix of questions that you feel you might possibly know and the joy of learning things you knew nothing about is quite satisfying. I love the crazy theme tune, the often hilariously-named, super intelligent young people and I relish admiring their often astounding knowledge. I'm not always a fan of the Paxman put-downs, but I do sometimes find myself chuckling at his frustration with the incorrect answers he deems obvious and wonder how he would cope with some of the students I teach all day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg0Ha9-tDya0HO3UemTxhUGXLa9ljntWDTes2KHUDSNkhe1GegYy6LNIh9JRvgsn4MkcCynHN8K7aCig0XfrgZe9qiTNdgUDfP5f1sXTB0dzq6MNe7bKR1rnWygyPwqN6-_5uhdURYr28/s1600/Screen+Shot+2013-04-19+at+16.04.16.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg0Ha9-tDya0HO3UemTxhUGXLa9ljntWDTes2KHUDSNkhe1GegYy6LNIh9JRvgsn4MkcCynHN8K7aCig0XfrgZe9qiTNdgUDfP5f1sXTB0dzq6MNe7bKR1rnWygyPwqN6-_5uhdURYr28/s320/Screen+Shot+2013-04-19+at+16.04.16.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Similar to the quick-fire missing vowels round -<br />answers on<a href="http://insarahslife.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/r-is-for-reasons-to-be-cheerful.html" target="_blank"> tomorrow's blog</a>!</i></td></tr>
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Undoubtedly, my favourite of all TV quiz shows, though, is BBC Four's fabulous <i><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00lskhg" target="_blank">Only Connect</a></i>. I just love this show. Hosted by my girl-crush, Victoria Coren, it contains several fiendish rounds where you have to find the connection between words or phrases. My absolute favourite is the quick-fire round where the vowels have been removed from words or phrases and you only have a category as a clue to the solution (have a go yourself - right). The online version of one round, the <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00lskhg/features/quiz" target="_blank">'Connecting Wall'</a>, is especially addictive and can keep you glued to your chair for hours. I strongly recommend you give it a go. Here is one (Game Wall 232 at this <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00lskhg/features/quiz" target="_blank">link</a>) I managed to score full marks on - let me know how you get on!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A winning team of Family Day Quiz - my cousin Antony,<br />my brother, Tom, my cousin, Annie and Mum -<br />clearly where I get my quizzing gene from!</i></td></tr>
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My cousin Kate is the Queen of Quizzes. She has, in the past, put together a quiz for our Family Day,<br />
when all of my Mum's brothers and sisters, and their families, gather together in the summer. We are a family consisting of more than 50% teachers (including Kate and myself) and therefore organised fun goes down very well. Despite many disputes over the answers and occasionally controversial topics such as 'The Tommy Round' which featured questions all about my brother, Tom (a round his team did very well on, I might add), it is loads of fun. I think we should resurrect the tradition at the next Family Day.<br />
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In Carleton, my Mum and Dad's village they have a regular quiz at <a href="http://www.theswaninncarleton.com/" target="_blank">The Swan</a>, the local pub, and last week, I'm proud to announce, Mum was on the winning team - take a bow, Mum! We have yet to find a good quiz around here, but we've been invited to join some work colleagues at a local pub quiz and I hope we get around to that soon. I need to get my quiz on!Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-12372257386978550172013-04-18T23:00:00.000+02:002013-04-19T15:44:23.780+02:00P is for Pulp<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgosQtqW-ZGhqPDFP2pFcHMlobF4K4KlxC_LovykmXc2zaWP-9_Fhv31WotnPTq6QO56iXlowE0_3E1uqPL_d7krevlVpJro7yoog_uPUecCVGqCUsCZoNcwuSVUcUpLaGjOToZHkVQUMg/s1600/Pulp-band-shot-007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgosQtqW-ZGhqPDFP2pFcHMlobF4K4KlxC_LovykmXc2zaWP-9_Fhv31WotnPTq6QO56iXlowE0_3E1uqPL_d7krevlVpJro7yoog_uPUecCVGqCUsCZoNcwuSVUcUpLaGjOToZHkVQUMg/s320/Pulp-band-shot-007.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A lifetime fascination with men in knitwear began here.</i></td></tr>
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In the autumn of 1995, I was in the midst of some exciting changes in my life. I had been released from the confines of my secondary school - glad to leave the corridors that echoed with taunts and the stink of PE humiliation behind. I had moved on to FE college, and the opportunity to study the things I really loved. I was able to do so with some of my dearest friends from school and explore this new place with its exotic cuisine (curly chips) and exciting people (from different schools - shock!) We quickly formed a cute little clutch of friends who all enjoyed each others company and shared many interests. It was top ace.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The ubiquitous cover from a<br />Guardian Weekend<br />Magazine, pinned to my<br />bedroom wall for years.</i></td></tr>
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On the first day at college, however, I didn't know anyone who was actually in my form. I entered the room trepidatiously and chose to sit next to a girl called Rosh, purely because she had streaks of blue in her hair and she was wearing a Pulp t-shirt. This, to me, was the sign of a Very Sound Person. I made rather a lot of my judgements about people based on their taste in hair-dye and musical tastes and, to be fair, it was usually pretty accurate.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My bookmark, which<br />caused such concern.</i></td></tr>
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At this time, I was already somewhat enamoured with <a href="http://insarahslife.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/b-is-for-blur.html" target="_blank">Blur,</a> amongst other bands, but Pulp stood out, really, as my favourite amongst favourites. I had a rather enormous fascination with the snake-hipped, super-odd, Jarvis Cocker, as the many posters adorning my bedroom walls would attest. At college I was given a 'Cause for Concern' note, by my Sociology lecturer for having a picture of Jarv as a bookmark, largely because that she suspected that I spent more time looking at the bookmark than reading about Marxism. I couldn't possibly comment on whether she was right or not, but suffice to say that the image remains seared onto my retina, whilst the intricacies of Functionalism, are a little more hazy.<br />
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I can't pretend to have been a fan from the very early days of Pulp - to be fair, the band formed the year before I was born, in 1978. Unless I was the hippest baby in the world (which I was not - as evidenced <a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10151270969436008&l=1f27f54b6c" target="_blank">here</a>) the likelihood of being in at the beginning, was pretty low. However, it has been galling in more recent times to be told of the brushes I had with seeing, what became, my all time faves in earlier times. They played 'spit and sawdust' pubs in towns in Yorkshire I lived in, and gigs in the Midlands not far from my hometown, before I knew they existed. They only really came to my attention when the rest of the world also started to wake up to their talent and my first ever Pulp purchase was <i>The Sisters EP</i> in 1994. <i>Babies</i> remains a song that I am ALWAYS in the mood for.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfctK5tfyi7XY243rNCWGCvF_tjyTMhkI_BFgLhRb-9yHnvzHGVjcNEXe_lYAZMeCwxVLGI4PIkCXpYQOfcVEh0rClmQzjWnIfHiHxnGaRkug44bb2xW0IGPcH8s66KjYmxnu7UOHrBk/s1600/Pulp2-young.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjfctK5tfyi7XY243rNCWGCvF_tjyTMhkI_BFgLhRb-9yHnvzHGVjcNEXe_lYAZMeCwxVLGI4PIkCXpYQOfcVEh0rClmQzjWnIfHiHxnGaRkug44bb2xW0IGPcH8s66KjYmxnu7UOHrBk/s320/Pulp2-young.jpg" width="320" /></a>Pulp were particularly important to me as, along with a typical teenage admiration for a sardonic sense of humour, their laconic disdain for what was deemed conventionally fashionable greatly appealed. As a fat, bespectacled, geeky, vegetarian I was never one of the cool kids. When you are in your early teens, a successful piano lesson or good English grade never really makes up for realising you will never be in the 'popular' gang. For a while, I wanted to be one of the girls that all the boys liked. I wanted to have just the right clothes and be good at netball and laugh that seemingly carefree laugh of a golden, chosen one. It never occurred to me that their life would be anything other than wonderful, compared to mine - being the butt of every joke, being 'friends' with boys but never being lusted after.<br />
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In retrospect, I was an idiot. I had parents that cared about me, supportive friends, a loving wider family, beliefs, passions and, most crucially, the opportunity to move on to whatever I chose to do. Still, for that brief time, I felt I'd been dealt a crap hand. What Pulp (particularly their wonderful call to arms for the terminally un-cool, <i>Mis-shapes),</i> woke me up to, was that actually, I'd got my aspirations all skewed. These people, these awkward, quirky, arty people, were outsiders too - and they had something important to say. It made me see that being different was actually the key to being interesting. Be it lanky, angular Jarvis or quiet, plastic jewellery-adorned Candida, these were people who didn't fit the mould of convention, but were undeniably cool - <i>because</i> of their otherness, not despite it.<br />
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In December 1995, Rosh and I went to Blackpool, to the glamorous sounding (but, at the time, not so glamorous looking) Empress Ballroom to see Pulp live. To say I was excited is something of an understatement - I was almost sick with giddiness on the way there. We had paid the unbelievably reasonable price of just £9.50 for our tickets and set off, my stomach lurching with excitement. The gig was overwhelming - to be surrounded by fellow mis-shapes, belting out the band's songs at the tops of our lungs was rapturous. I remember returning, very late, that night, simply dizzy with the excitement of it all and hoarsely rambling on to my, presumably exhausted, Mum, who listened to the whole gig recounted song-by-song over tea and toast.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCOe4IPX5YrAIGSYt8MdiRGgpNiJxz27yz867V5aBuhyR4wNUwIjjTKK1Q74QuGdyDyhwvYz8nKPgS79iNxxjI2PotlUjXZvp90ZE-UcMzei-bM1IgrmYz8Qt94LaCi-kerHcsFmax-A/s1600/6113593410_8872ffecea_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCOe4IPX5YrAIGSYt8MdiRGgpNiJxz27yz867V5aBuhyR4wNUwIjjTKK1Q74QuGdyDyhwvYz8nKPgS79iNxxjI2PotlUjXZvp90ZE-UcMzei-bM1IgrmYz8Qt94LaCi-kerHcsFmax-A/s200/6113593410_8872ffecea_z.jpg" width="200" /></a>The very first email I ever received from David indicated that his email address included the phrase 'pulpanarchist' and, despite there being no indication of his mis-shapeness previous to this, I was thrilled that he confirmed that this was, indeed, a reference to Sheffield's finest export. He is potentially the biggest Pulp fan you will ever meet and, frankly, if you want to know anything about band and their music, apart from my own personal ramblings, you can't go far wrong by clicking on <a href="http://davewrotethis.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Pulp" target="_blank">this link here</a>. We were both thrilled to hear Pulp would be playing live again in 2011 and managed to get tickets to see them play at Brixton Academy on 31st August. Despite the sad realisation that I am now too old for the mosh-pit (it felt like a collective panic attack on a bouncy castle) we had an amazing night. Hearing the Pulp faithful gathered again, old and young, to share the songs we all loved so much was just magical.<br />
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Pulp recently released their first single for 11 years, <i>After You</i>, this year, and I rather like it. Jarvis remains a constant presence on BBC 6 Music with his marvellous show, <i><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00ptsjd" target="_blank">Jarvis Cocker's Sunday Service</a></i> and he makes<a href="http://youtu.be/6EA1nXLv2yg?t=12m10s" target="_blank"> regular appearances across the media</a>. I'm hoping we also get to hear and see more of Pulp, as well as more of Cocker's solo work, in the near future.<br />
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<br />Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-61322881819639051812013-04-17T00:47:00.002+02:002013-04-17T08:29:05.786+02:00O is for Oh Comely<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2cxIisla-SNnd_E1R8Ovwpm77eCGFWt_OHxqODbk3tR4xEwBCBjLP42yesTszwKfkuYZTiypa2YltaBaS0YGhauv_Oyh7K0BTZ5ylPiUyPfki6flIc_m37RpQ4x_N63NusCzmTWx54_A/s1600/OH-COMELY_11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2cxIisla-SNnd_E1R8Ovwpm77eCGFWt_OHxqODbk3tR4xEwBCBjLP42yesTszwKfkuYZTiypa2YltaBaS0YGhauv_Oyh7K0BTZ5ylPiUyPfki6flIc_m37RpQ4x_N63NusCzmTWx54_A/s320/OH-COMELY_11.jpg" width="229" /></a>A few years ago, on one of my many train jaunts between Saltaire and London, to see David, I picked up a copy of a magazine from a newsagents. Normally, I shy away from the magazine stands. I couldn't care less which celebrity has been snapped on the beach, I don't have a garden, I couldn't give a monkey's about fashion and I couldn't be less interested in reading about gadgets and technology. However, this time, something caught my eye - <i><a href="http://www.ohcomely.co.uk/" target="_blank">Oh Comely</a> Magazine</i>!<br />
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I was drawn in originally by the intriguing cover and spare, but, somehow calming layout of the magazine. It doesn't scream at my eyes, like so many of the other magazines on the market, it just gently presents interesting stories and appealing images to you, inviting you to wander in and enjoy what it has to offer. Their 'cover girl' is not a glossy, photoshopped film star but a simple portrait of a fresh-faced young woman because, as they put it, "<a href="http://www.ohcomely.co.uk/issue" target="_blank">different, interesting women are our heroes</a>".<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Adorably illustrated advice from Grandparents.</i></td></tr>
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This wonderful bi-monthly treat presents stories and <a href="http://www.ohcomely.co.uk/content/538" target="_blank">remembrances</a>, features about crafty trinkets, <a href="http://www.ohcomely.co.uk/blog/594" target="_blank">news about exhibitions,</a> recipes, <a href="http://www.ohcomely.co.uk/blog/603" target="_blank">photo essays</a>, <a href="http://www.ohcomely.co.uk/blog/599" target="_blank">new music</a> and alternative fashion photography (often featuring second hand or vintage finds). It also celebrates creative and interesting people who are not often featured in other publications, such as <a href="http://www.ohcomely.co.uk/content/615" target="_blank">Kristen Peers</a>, a portrait photographer who is working on a series of images to celebrate her 50th birthday. It also includes a lot of whimsical, fun articles including the editorial team attempting to pass Guide and Scout badges, holding races using their own lego-built cars or finding out how many words can be created from a tin of alphabet spaghetti. Daft, but utterly adorable.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A regular playlist of the music the editorial team<br />listened to whilst creating that issue is also made <br />available on Spotify.</i></td></tr>
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<i>Oh Comely</i> is something of an escape for me. After a week of marking, parents' evenings and college politics, it is bliss to curl up under the quilt with photographs from around the world, people's memories of their childhoods, <a href="http://open.spotify.com/user/ohcomelymag" target="_blank">a playlist of new and interesting music</a>,<a href="http://ohcomelymagazine.tumblr.com/post/43986384789/does-anyone-have-packets-of-discontinued-foods-or" target="_blank"> fascinating finds </a>from people's attics and the fanciful, glorious illustrations. It is, clearly, very carefully targeted directly at me as a roughly middle-class woman in her 30's, but I don't care. Fire away, <i>Oh Comely</i> - you've hit my taste, dead-on!<br />
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One of the best things about the magazine, in my opinion, is the interaction between the readership and the team behind its creation. Each month features one of the most adorable letters pages ever, where the front of each note or postcard appears on one page and the reverse of each on the back of the same page. It is wonderful to see how <i>Oh Comely </i>has inspired people all over the world to get drawing, making, writing and pondering and the enthusiasm for those, like me, caught up in this magic little oasis of escapist calm. As well as running a film club for their readers, they decided to deliver some of their editions by hand, to celebrate their third birthday (as seen in the video below).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The back cover often includes a positive<br />message - such as this one from last issue.</i></td></tr>
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For my birthday in 2012, David bought me a year-long subscription to the magazine as a gift and, not only did I get a lovely hand-written postcard from the team to tell me that I had been bought a subscription, but every new issue was delivered with the message 'Happy Birthday' in my address. It was such a fantastic present as, naturally, it lasted all year. I was lucky enough to receive the same gift (amongst other treats) this year - brilliant!Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-16992376541216817182013-04-16T01:08:00.003+02:002013-04-16T01:12:14.579+02:00N is for Nick Drake<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2pUas0fHoCCbmeikWBfzlQfkSjNrNYLAnSk4NyP4AAYZzC38FkDEHtrP3RNydajWt42aO1jt18L627GCtaLSlUZZ_vUi74mvSDXNyKFWJO80sB_JzbNdRZ2qmMFPzEtOlczQUX48B0I/s1600/five+leaves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd2pUas0fHoCCbmeikWBfzlQfkSjNrNYLAnSk4NyP4AAYZzC38FkDEHtrP3RNydajWt42aO1jt18L627GCtaLSlUZZ_vUi74mvSDXNyKFWJO80sB_JzbNdRZ2qmMFPzEtOlczQUX48B0I/s200/five+leaves.jpg" width="200" /></a>I was introduced to Nick Drake many moons ago by two good friends, Carl, and Trish. Carl played me <i>Five Leaves Left, </i>Drake's melodious debut album, in his Land Rover on one of our jaunts around the countryside when we were both involved in a band. I immediately felt drawn to hear more of this intricate, melancholy sound. Shortly after, my friend Trish played me some of his music at a time when I felt particularly delicate. She had kindly collected me from work on my last day at a particular job, when emotions always run high, and I was having a hard time of things in lots of ways. She sat me down in a comfortable chair with a chilled glass of white wine, put <i>Five Leaves Left</i> on the stereo and left me to my thoughts whilst she prepared some dinner. It was one of those moments I will always remember - it was exactly <i>what</i> I needed, exactly <i>when</i> I needed it. In those moments - both as the moorland of Yorkshire whizzed by, through the little windows of the Land Rover, and as the evening light filtered onto my fingers whilst I sank into a comfortable chair - that I first heard the songs of the beautiful, fragile Nick Drake and his shattered soul.<br />
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Drake was an incredibly talented musician, with an ability to weave lyrics that seem to move something deep inside me. He was haunted throughout his life by depression and, as a reclusive and withdrawn individual for most of his life, his songs were, in a way, his voice. The ever recurrent mental anguish he suffered is clear in lyrics - '<i>And the people round your head, Who say everything's been said, And the movement in your brain, Sends you out into the rain'</i>. Equally, songs such as <i>Saturday Sun</i> speak of moments of brightness in what must have been quite a dark inner life at times, also echoing how fleeting these times were '<i>Saturday's sun has turned to Sunday's rain, Saturday's sun won't come and see me today'</i>. From what close friends and family of mine, who have experienced depression, have told me, his lyrics reflect very closely the experiences they have had.<br />
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A self-taught musician who studied English Literature at Cambridge, his work is infused with the kind of literary allusions so common in the work of his favourite poets, <a href="http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-echoing-green-3/" target="_blank">William Blake</a> and <a href="http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/into-the-twilight/" target="_blank">W.B. Yeats</a>. He uses features from the rural landscape he grew up in to reflect the emotion at the core of his music to great effect, producing often quite simple, but deeply affecting lyrics that curl sinuously around the carefully crafted music he wrote. In 1974, Nick Drake died from an overdose of anti-depressants at the age of just 26. Whilst there is still some discussion about whether this was a deliberate or accidental act, it undoubtedly took from the world a rare talent.<br />
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In 2006, Trish married another of my friends, Kenny, the drummer from the aforementioned band - to everyone's joy and delight. At the time, I couldn't make it to their wedding, but in the card I sent, I included some of the lyrics from <i>Time Has Told Me</i>, (above) as nothing seemed more apt on the union of two soulmates who had found each other at last. Sadly, Kenny passed away in 2008 and is very badly missed by all who knew him. He was a wonderful man and every time I hear this beautiful song it reminds me of them both.<br />
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In May 2009, I went with my friend, Amanda, to see an amazing <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/6music/news/20090517_NickDrake.shtml" target="_blank">tribute to Nick Drake's music </a>in Birmingham Town Hall featuring, amongst others Graham Coxon, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SO9wwghtL68" target="_blank">Martha Wainwright </a>and Beth Orton. It was a very memorable, moving and rather tipsy night!<br />
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My friend Sharon and I, have talked many times about visiting Tamworth-in-Arden, where Nick is buried, as his music has meant so much to us both. During some sadder times, we have both taken solace in his songs and sharing them together has been so important to us both.<br />
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As much as I miss my beloved Yorkshire, the lyrics from this track, <i>Northern Sky </i>(above)<i>,</i> rather aptly, sums my feelings on meeting David back in 2010.<br />
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<i>'I never felt magic crazy as this</i></div>
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<i>I never saw moons, knew the meaning of the sea</i></div>
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<i>I never held emotion in the palm of my hand</i></div>
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<i>Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree</i></div>
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<i>But now you're here</i></div>
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<i>Brighten my northern sky'</i></div>
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Thank you, Nick. Thank you for your songs. </div>
Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-61055983055787132632013-04-15T01:00:00.000+02:002013-04-15T01:00:02.194+02:00M for Mucha<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Mflw74-7_TRLBT0DsqZw05MBkCNDU2Cnge7hy4zXddRRn4A3hwkWvgBiyQe5p8tsq-dC28sjjSA3DYdIDuyvJPGGivvaAFHI9rsZs0ztZQJo7I8D9NUN1QIusCBfRyFUFIKibVvQRuU/s1600/220px-Alfons_Mucha_LOC_3c05828u.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Mflw74-7_TRLBT0DsqZw05MBkCNDU2Cnge7hy4zXddRRn4A3hwkWvgBiyQe5p8tsq-dC28sjjSA3DYdIDuyvJPGGivvaAFHI9rsZs0ztZQJo7I8D9NUN1QIusCBfRyFUFIKibVvQRuU/s200/220px-Alfons_Mucha_LOC_3c05828u.jpg" width="155" /></a><br />
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One of my favourite artists of all time is Alphonse Mucha, the Czech born painter and illustrator. His beautiful illustrations and inspired design work are somewhat timeless in their appeal. He is an artist who was dismissed by many critics during his lifetime because of his work on poster design and illustration - seen as a low-brow form of art (as it still is, by some). However, for me, he was a key artist in a developing form, whose design sensibilities and passionate belief in the art of his own country spurred him on to travel the world and develop his style.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfm3TGVgt53LK_AvF2cPaS3t36DJS5-ztDZnti1hakWdBnmkDmnjCCJlzx3Q64AxBaba4gxtN6kUI3XmYynO1Z2XrQjQYFdmnU8ZtZSNCjDWYcPayFN7p01XwCF-j_0XLGfhDtrevT0MM/s1600/MTS_porkypine-820700-4-seasons-1900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfm3TGVgt53LK_AvF2cPaS3t36DJS5-ztDZnti1hakWdBnmkDmnjCCJlzx3Q64AxBaba4gxtN6kUI3XmYynO1Z2XrQjQYFdmnU8ZtZSNCjDWYcPayFN7p01XwCF-j_0XLGfhDtrevT0MM/s640/MTS_porkypine-820700-4-seasons-1900.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Four Seasons 1900 - Alphonse Mucha</i></td></tr>
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When I moved into my first flat on my own, one of the first things I purchased was a set of prints of<i> The Four Seasons</i> created by Mucha, in 1900. He often worked on the theme of the four seasons but this is my favourite of all the versions he created. At a time when I was uncertain of the future, I found these images inspiring and emotional. The beauty and hope he found in each of the seasons gave me such reassurance that Winter will move on to Spring - things will change and move on and more beauty will be revealed.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAXBwf772cfpM7bsTY66OCSUquTph1IzNL2IQvCOmMDrgnKxV9Lio7yyFnDusjx-S1KONxbJeVMNmWWR8awtn-DWZxwz0RWVe9XYrseYiT44DahZmyR5J-S_1hxCtRG9TsqAdZG93tX_E/s1600/2352680273_46d328e25a_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAXBwf772cfpM7bsTY66OCSUquTph1IzNL2IQvCOmMDrgnKxV9Lio7yyFnDusjx-S1KONxbJeVMNmWWR8awtn-DWZxwz0RWVe9XYrseYiT44DahZmyR5J-S_1hxCtRG9TsqAdZG93tX_E/s320/2352680273_46d328e25a_b.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The view of Mala Strana over the Vlatava River.</i></td></tr>
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In March 2008, my friend Moira and I decided to take a <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sarahholmes/sets/72157604208729954/with/2353514360/" target="_blank">trip to Prague</a>, very much spurred on by our fascination with Mucha's work and the mysteries of this city and its fascinating history. I discovered a beautiful city, with unique architecture, public art work on every corner and a focus on form as well as function. The Municipal House in the centre of the city was built as a celebration of Czech art and Mucha contributed to several murals and the overall design of the building. It stands as a symbol of the vast influence the Czech artists had on the Art Nouveau movement and remains an amazing place to visit, both inside and out.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The restaurant inside the Municipal House in Prague, </i><br />
<i>where we enjoyed a delicious lunch.</i></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Municipal House in Prague. </i></td></tr>
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Mucha was a man who had also his faults. He is credited with establishing the Prague chapter of Freemasonry, an organisation I find particularly suspicious, and his work was instrumental in the development of advertising, as he produced many images for print adverts. However, his passion for his craft and the focus he put on promoting the work of his countrymen cannot be denied.<br />
<br />Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-65231815863674584222013-04-13T16:44:00.001+02:002013-04-13T20:08:16.806+02:00L is for The League of Gentlemen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In 1999, in the final year of my degree, I spent some time sworn off television. I had become disillusioned with what was being broadcast and I had to face that fact that I had a dissertation to write, and watching hours of daytime television really wouldn't help. I had the notion that this decision would give me the opportunity to do so many other life-enriching things with the time I had spent glued to the box. It didn't. I spent more time playing computer games and in the pub - neither of which helped me complete my dissertation or develop more skills. Perhaps more unfortunately, just as I turned my back on a medium that felt it was doing very little to entertain me, several new programmes started that would be ripe for doing just that.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Reece Shearsmith, Mark Gatiss, Jeremy Dyson &<br />Steve Pemberton.</i></td></tr>
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Having been a regular visitor to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe since my childhood, I had heard of <i>The </i><i>League of Gentlemen</i> and with their Perrier Award win in 1997, I always intended to find out more about them. In 1997, their radio series <i>On The Town with The League of Gentlemen</i> aired, which introduced many of the characters that would eventually appear in the television series. I only heard this after seeing some of the television series, but it includes one of my favourite characters - Mr. Ingleby, the infeasibly tiny shopkeeper, a character perhaps most effectively portrayed in a non-visual medium of radio.<br />
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The League themselves are made up of writer, Jeremy Dyson, and writer-performers, Mark Gatiss, Steve Pemberton and Reece Shearsmith. Whilst Dyson's writing should not be dismissed, as it is key to the success of their work, Gatiss, Pemberton and Shearsmith's performances are incredible. Each character is entirely distinct, with their own voice, mannerisms, expressions and posture and almost all parts within the series are played by these three actors alone. The fact that we, as an audience, come to see the female characters as 'women' within such a short amount of time is just one of the wonders they weave with their careful construction of believable individuals in this almost too real environment.<br />
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Overwhelmingly dark in nature, this comedy series and the resulting live performances, film and specials are always funny, sometimes sad and terrifically unsettling. It sparks precisely the right balance between those jokes that a part of you feels maybe you shouldn't really laugh at and full-on, almost slapstick situations and sketches.<br />
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Some of the characters from the show became cult fixtures for my generation. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2F4ZWTjwTU" target="_blank">Papa Lazarou </a>and his terrifying circus became very well-known, even amongst those unfamiliar with the series, but he was just one of the many ingeniously crafted characters we meet in Royston Vasey, the fictional village the series is set in. One of my favourites is <a href="http://youtu.be/DGntH-aOlWU?t=6m53s" target="_blank">Pauline Campbell-Jones</a>, Restart Officer at the Job Centre in the town. In this one, monstrous, woman, so many of the patronising, belittling and ineffective processes developed to 'support' the unemployed in recent times, as well as the small-minded and judgemental attitudes of many towards those out of work, are expertly parodied. A woman who thrives on humiliating those she is supposed to be helping, she is cruel, spiteful and manipulative - sadly echoing many people in similar positions of responsibility who choose to use their minimal power to gain a sense of advantage over others. Across the story arc we see her get what may be seen as her comeuppance, including the humiliation of having to join a Restart course herself when she loses her job, but, by the end of series 3 the audience find compassion for this damaged woman and she is very much be one of the mainstays of the series.<br />
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Having lived in several small communities during my life, <a href="http://youtu.be/DGntH-aOlWU?t=2m59s" target="_blank">Tubbs and Edward</a> and their notion<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdlUCfbTQOsceM4Fpa_Fay3wJ_1XS_WFD3QnVmfayLCLGxfZdFnU4fG1SnBYUD3ICVpKABr27dcd2YsUqr0wWqBNzkrEdIEDsIUJKhmhPS7m-1KLeX7ebC0sAT-jIYk4HawrADrJj-D8/s1600/Tubbs-and-Edward-from-the-007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIdlUCfbTQOsceM4Fpa_Fay3wJ_1XS_WFD3QnVmfayLCLGxfZdFnU4fG1SnBYUD3ICVpKABr27dcd2YsUqr0wWqBNzkrEdIEDsIUJKhmhPS7m-1KLeX7ebC0sAT-jIYk4HawrADrJj-D8/s320/Tubbs-and-Edward-from-the-007.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
of the importance of being 'local' is certainly familiar. The insular nature of small remote villages and towns is so well portrayed in the series, from the bitter old women in the charity shop, right through to the bumptious town councillor, Maurice Evans, the dark tales of real-life communities gone bad seem to echo off the walls of Royston Vasey. Indeed, filmed in a variety of locations within Derbyshire and West Yorkshire - both places I've lived during my life - the streets, buildings and moorland that have been effortlessly stitched together to create the fictional town make it feel like a very 'real' place.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCCcah-h9NLCc36eRulnAZioGwJwd_nUghspI5BRKngR9dNErM3xNvscm8mxcwm3dsUZEnhRIvaYPV5cEh2gW8dP8qqgJKVBkkWD_UH83llrrflbgCpYbeWifIZHpohWSBBqIFyrU7daI/s1600/les2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="144" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCCcah-h9NLCc36eRulnAZioGwJwd_nUghspI5BRKngR9dNErM3xNvscm8mxcwm3dsUZEnhRIvaYPV5cEh2gW8dP8qqgJKVBkkWD_UH83llrrflbgCpYbeWifIZHpohWSBBqIFyrU7daI/s200/les2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0I5BKPCc0CeJ4A8hI4wZreBiAYmwoLD3tywRqxcOdAVWUPXPIZaDKKse75y3PnQ_3tQqrQQbbh8Ie5XWcYCoKW_MzG5KLVOYZ4Yn8-GlBGrsQktTYCiCweJqPmYVaxKyxowxKi1ULofI/s1600/charlie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0I5BKPCc0CeJ4A8hI4wZreBiAYmwoLD3tywRqxcOdAVWUPXPIZaDKKse75y3PnQ_3tQqrQQbbh8Ie5XWcYCoKW_MzG5KLVOYZ4Yn8-GlBGrsQktTYCiCweJqPmYVaxKyxowxKi1ULofI/s200/charlie.jpg" width="200" /></a>The pathos of Les McQueen and his tales of unfulfilled rock stardom or the chaotic, crumbling relationship of Charlie and Stella Hull carefully build characters with a very real background and history, inviting us to see a brief, bleak snapshot of their lives. These are not cardboard cut-out, roughly drawn shadows of people that we are invited to laugh at, they are given the depth and detail of a past - their own subtleties and personalities. Les' stories of his former glory are just as moving as they are funny, whilst Charlie and Stella bicker relentlessly, only to find sudden peace at the end of the sketch when they are united in a mis-understanding.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDzHsz6WlxJKsQjcBLLYr6YbPdswHJE4lm1Y35-sTrChx2iuHnklzwO3pv1cTDZSNNFimdZWop9LxRzhEYTa0lRK1qreLwwbOOb4ejFv6AnPoX-FtNY35ONWbDEqTxVjR3PArytV01CQ/s1600/legz+akimbo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDzHsz6WlxJKsQjcBLLYr6YbPdswHJE4lm1Y35-sTrChx2iuHnklzwO3pv1cTDZSNNFimdZWop9LxRzhEYTa0lRK1qreLwwbOOb4ejFv6AnPoX-FtNY35ONWbDEqTxVjR3PArytV01CQ/s320/legz+akimbo.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Legz Akimbo Theatre Company or, as Rev. Bernice<br />Woodhall, the cynical God-less minister of Royston Vasey <br />calls them 'AIDS in a van'.</i></td></tr>
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Legs Akimbo, the theatre group who arrive at the school in Royston Vasey <a href="http://youtu.be/HRrP2s9_PXk?t=21m9s" target="_blank">'Everybody Out!'</a> their 'show about sexuality aimed at 9 to 12 year olds' strike a particular chord with me. Having sat through many well-meaning 'plays about issues' during my own time at school, I then went on to study theatre in education within my degree and the horror of such trite, patronising nonsense was all around me. Everything within this particular scene clearly echoes the performer's similar experiences, from the walking on the spot 'technique' to the clumsy attempts at symbolism and the ill-conceived 'tableaus'.<br />
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Mark Gatiss' monologue as the <a href="http://youtu.be/hVrYzs-VlIA?t=11m57s" target="_blank">tour guide of Stump Hole Cavern</a> is not only a superb piece of writing, but also fabulously performed, with the weary acceptance of a tour guide who tells his tale many times a day, whilst revealing a story of horror. Performed just as movingly on stage in a tuxedo, as in full costume on location, this is a comedic masterpiece.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVzysusB_R4HdkSzDT1vx-nB2sqJI8lQnuqXj0kPXQcGZrTQyyjDMNYsZMZAzw1fMQYGttVWH53cxZaFPzFpGuZaJX8hdLxPR-_4Df8hqC7OywjInFsRCEbiVHdREw8MKa9WeEKayjPSg/s1600/dean.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVzysusB_R4HdkSzDT1vx-nB2sqJI8lQnuqXj0kPXQcGZrTQyyjDMNYsZMZAzw1fMQYGttVWH53cxZaFPzFpGuZaJX8hdLxPR-_4Df8hqC7OywjInFsRCEbiVHdREw8MKa9WeEKayjPSg/s320/dean.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Frustrated street magician Dean Tavalouris <br />from series 3 - another of my favourite characters.</i></td></tr>
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Series 3 of the show, the last made for television, took a turn in style and moved much more towards comedy-drama than the sketch format of previous two series. It showcased the team's ability to weave a complex multi-stranded narrative around the characters we had grown to love. Each episode occurred concurrently, climaxing in the same incident each week, but from a different character's perspective. Through this device the truth behind the incident, its cause and implications are all revealed slowly and it is a fabulous method for creating intrigue as well as providing us with an insight into each individual's place as part of a whole.<br />
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I could write forever about this series, from the joy of the interstitial scenes that continue throughout episodes to the vaguely haunting theme tune and richly layered cultural references, it is all a treat. Not humour for the faint-hearted, this thoughtfully and lovingly nurtured body of work remains endlessly watchable.Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-75969630330405955212013-04-12T00:57:00.002+02:002013-04-12T01:21:42.829+02:00K is for Kate Atkinson<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>“The beginning is the word and the end is silence. And in between are all the stories.” </b></div>
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Kate Atkinson, <i>Human Croquet.</i></div>
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Whilst at University, one of my favourite lecturers, Chris Prior, recommended a book he had recently read that he believed I would love. It became one of the best recommendations anyone has ever made to me. He lent me his dog-eared and well-loved copy of <i>Behind the Scenes at the Museum</i>, by Kate Atkinson and I devoured it in 48 hours flat. <br />
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Having studied English Literature for A-Level whilst at college, my once fervent love of reading had taken something of a battering. Being required to read texts, selected by someone else, and then having to dissect said works in minute detail, can really take the pleasure out of reading for a 17 year-old. I'd recently discovered Ian McEwan and enjoyed his work (later discovering, to my annoyance, that we could have studied his amazing 1987 novel, <i>A Child in Time</i>, as a set text instead of another Shakespeare) but I was reading for pleasure sparingly. This was odd as, in childhood, I'd rarely had my head out of a book. I suppose it is hard to enjoy books for fun, when you know you really should be working your way through 'that Chaucer' or 'another Thomas Hardy'.<br />
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University bought with it yet more interminable reading lists and set-texts, but the pressure felt somewhat eased, and Chris' thoughtful suggestion bought me back to the world of the bookworm with a bang. Atkinson's first novel is an intriguing and engrossing tale that follows the story of Ruby Lennox, a woman living in modern-day York, and the lives of four generations of women from her family. The narrative is structured to tell Ruby's story in 13 linear chapters, which are interspersed with non-linear flashbacks to the lives of her mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. Through these glimpes we gain a picture of the lives of the woman that came before Ruby and the way that their tales intertwine and echo each other is captivating. Intrigue is established, family secrets revealed and the differences, as well as the aching similarities, of these four women's existences floods the book with a depth of emotion rare in contemporary fiction. <br />
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In <i>Human Croquet</i>, her second work, Atkinson plays with the notion of time travel and the concept of<br />
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Atkinson's next four books, <i>Case Histories, One Good Turn, When Will There Be Good News? </i>and<i> Started Early, Took My Dog </i>are all detective novels featuring her most popular
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE64ZhyhmfAdvgmMzhko7Yv8ViJlIeX0eeleNXLlpM3gfCcwXB21Y2Spslf__zE96NM1ssJN77SRT0Qz3-qFQUu2q4in_jsL0_DzgbTIw9pNnNxdMSnVz8t9n3FvA7A2bkAbDxRTpadkc/s1600/When%252520Will%252520There%252520Be%252520Good%252520News%252520by%252520Kate%252520Atkinson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE64ZhyhmfAdvgmMzhko7Yv8ViJlIeX0eeleNXLlpM3gfCcwXB21Y2Spslf__zE96NM1ssJN77SRT0Qz3-qFQUu2q4in_jsL0_DzgbTIw9pNnNxdMSnVz8t9n3FvA7A2bkAbDxRTpadkc/s200/When%252520Will%252520There%252520Be%252520Good%252520News%252520by%252520Kate%252520Atkinson.jpg" width="128" /></a>character, Jackson Brodie. She retains her quirky style and ability to weave twists and turns that even the most suspicious of readers cannot predict, drawing together, Douglas Adams-style, the most disparate of elements within a narrative to the same nexus point at the climax of a story. These remain, undoubtedly, fantastic fiction and Brodie is certainly an appealing character, but I have to say, I prefer her other more abstract works from the generally linear-natured Brodie books. I was also massively disappointed by the BBC's attempts to dramatise the Brodie books for TV in 2011, but then so much of the joy of Atkinson's work, for me, is in the delicacy of her prose and the vivid imagery conjured by her inspired use of language. <br />
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Atkinson has a knack for choosing locations for her novels that I hold dear to my heart. The cobbled Shambles of York in <i>Behind the Scenes</i>, the gritty streets of Leeds in <i>Started Early, Took My Dog</i>, Edinburgh, alive with colour during the Festival Fringe in <i>One Good Turn</i> - all places I know well and have great affection for. I think it is always so exciting to read a book and to know the geography of the place being written about so well that even I, with my questionable sense of direction, can feel the mental map I have of that place being bought to life on the page. Even when she uses settings I don't know so well - Cambridge in<i> Case Histories</i>, for example - her evocative descriptions makes you want to know the place better and spurs on a sense of adventure in the reader.<br />
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Last month, a new Kate Atkinson hit the shelves in the form of <i><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-21792076">Life After Life</a> </i>and I cannot wait to indulge myself in a copy. I was thrilled when I heard she was exploring once again the world outside the Jackson Brodie universe and, from everything I've heard so far, I'm very excited about reading it. A tantalising campaign was built up in the weeks before the novel's release via a<a href="http://pinterest.com/whatshalliread/life-after-life-kate-atkinson/"> daily pin on Pinterest </a>featuring imagery from the book and a short snippet from the text - it has certainly got me intrigued!<br />
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<b>“In the end, it is my belief, words are the only things that can construct a world that makes sense.”</b> </div>
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Kate Atkinson,<i> Behind The Scenes at the Museum</i></div>
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Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-17707703197376215162013-04-11T10:17:00.003+02:002013-04-11T18:16:47.812+02:00J is for Joss WhedonIn 2005, when I was 26, my life changed radically. I found myself single for the first time since I was <br />
17, living alone, with a distinctly new outlook on life. After nearly 10 years in what was, in retrospect, a very controlling relationship, it was time to re-evaluate things, decide what I wanted from life and decide what the future held for me, independent of anyone else. For a very short while, I felt lost and alone, but surprisingly quickly, I realised how incredibly liberating this was. As a result I began to re-evaluate everything, from my previously vegan lifestyle (it is amazing how easy it is to justify going back to vegetarianism is when you have blue cheese again for the first time in 4 years) to what I wanted to watch, read and enjoy.<br />
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For years, so many friends, work-colleagues, academics and creative people I respected and admired had expounded on the merits of <i>Buffy the Vampire Slayer.</i> "It is so well-written" they would opine, "This <a href="http://www.whedonverse.net/joss-whedon-biography/" target="_blank">Joss Whedon</a> guy is a genius, and these characters are fantastically well-drawn", others would gush. I would nod politely, internally wondering what spell had been cast on so many people - people whose tastes co-incided closely with my own - when all I could see was a cheesy high-school drama with a ridiculous title and, I suspected, all the depth of <i>Beverly Hills 90210</i>. Of course, I'd never actually watched the series, but having seen, and hated, the 1992 film which I believed the series to be 'just like', I gave it a wide berth. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The 'Scooby Gang' in the kind of 90210 shot<br />that had initially put me off giving Buffy a chance.</i></td></tr>
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Cut to 2005, and my friend Craig brings up The <i>Buffy </i>Debate again. He cannot believe I haven't seen it and insists I give it a chance. In my new re-evaluative mood, I relent, and am very pleasantly surprised. We fly through season 1 fairly quickly as I discover that it is, indeed, a drama featuring teenage characters, who go to high-school. However, I also find, to my surprise that is it funny, clever and, despite being about a teenage girl who has been chosen to lead the battle against the vampire hoards, it is highly emotionally resonant. Show creator Joss Whedon had indeed, won me over - I had to admit.<br />
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Over the course of about 6 months, my main viewing becomes this fantastic series with its gutsy characters, carefully crafted relationships and best of all the narrative - this interwoven, richly-textured story that stops at all points on the passage from childhood to adulthood. It encompasses, amongst many other things; sexual awakening, familial relationships, bereavement, homosexuality, addiction, religion and of course the over-riding themes of responsibility, otherness and the growing pains of young adulthood. The more obvious metaphors of high-school being 'hell', a young woman fighting off demons and keeping secrets from those around her for their own protection are perhaps, plain to see.<br />
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The main premise is used to explore so many fascinating aspects of the human condition, and all with carefully constructed story arcs and great performances from the regular cast. The fact is that the programme I had dismissed as teen-drama tosh constantly surprised with episodes such as <i>Hush</i>, which featured 27 minutes without any dialogue, exploring the concept of a society without verbal communication. Never afraid to <a href="http://www.avclub.com/articles/10-best-buffy-the-vampire-slayer-episodes,89781/" target="_blank">push the envelope</a> episodes such as <i>Once More With Feeling</i>, an episode that happens entirely in the form of a musical or <i>The Body</i> which explored the devastating loss of a parent in a way that left its audience bereft, in many ways redefined the genre.<br />
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I went on to adore <i>Firefly</i> - the short-lived 'space-western' series created by Whedon. Once again, the beautifully drawn characters and their adventures drew me in quickly and made me care about their plight, with ease. Drawing on the best of the Western genre for tales of the treachery, survival and exploration in a pioneer culture, whilst blending in the tropes of sci-fi the series helped reflect human relationships through a different lens. The series, whilst cancelled early by a network disappointed that it hadn't immediately gained the mass audience appeal of Buffy, found a new cult status on DVD. The sales of this helped secure funding for a Whedon-penned and directed <i>Firefly</i> film, <i>Serenity</i>, in 2005. Having loved the series, I went to see<i> Serenity</i> at the cinema and was, again, blown away by the inspired plotting, engaging dialogue and wonderful style of the film. Again, Whedon's daring in snatching away from his audience some of the people they care about the most, without any of the usual conventions to indicate we will be losing someone, is both breathtaking and heartbreaking. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Kick-ass Buffy</i></td></tr>
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Much has been said about Whedon's ability to write strong female characters but it is important he be recognised for this, sadly, all too rare feature. Whilst it is easy to identify the ass-kicking vampire slayer Buffy, or Firefly's mechanic, Kaylee as pulling the switcheroo on <a href="http://slayageonline.com/essays/slayage34/Doran.pdf" target="_blank">defined gender roles</a>, each of the female characters he has created are unique and surprising in their own ways. Take geeky Willow, who discovers not only her own true powers but her homosexuality throughout the story arc of <i>Buffy</i> or Anya, originally a 'vengeance demon' granting the wishes of wronged women, who has to learn how to be human. These are female characters whose individuality sing from the screen. Perhaps one of the most touching things about his writing for female characters is the way that he maintains their femininity without this diminishing<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Fabulous Zoe and her adoring husband, Wash.</i></td></tr>
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their ability to be powerful, intelligent and formidable. <i>Firefly's</i> Zoe is an affectionate wife, but this doesn't stop her being a fearsome, straight-talking renegade and Inara, quite literally schooled in 'womanly ways' as a companion, is a shrewd, sword-fighting business woman.<br />
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Whedon's mother, Lee Stearns, was a high-school teacher, credited with inspiring Jessica Neuwirth, founder of <a href="http://www.equalitynow.org/about-us">Equality Now</a>, an organisation working for the protection of human rights for girls and women across the world. In 2006, Whedon was asked to speak at an Equality Now conference as an Honoree, for his part in the fight for gender equality. His speech, whilst highlighting how sad it is that he is so unusual in his dedication to writing strong roles for women, is highly inspiring.<br />
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<i>“Equality is not a concept. It's not something we should be striving for. It's a necessity. Equality is like gravity. We need it to stand on this earth as men and women, and the misogyny that is in every culture is not a true part of the human condition. It is life out of balance, and that imbalance is sucking something out of the soul of every man and woman who's confronted with it. We need equality. Kinda now.” Joss Whedon, 2006. </i></div>
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Whedon went on to create <i>Angel</i>, a spin-off from <i>Buffy</i> and <i>Dollhouse</i>, a sci-fi drama series which featured the actions of a shady corporation who use their abilities to implant skills and personality traits temporarily on individuals at the whim of their wealthy clients. 2008's, hilarious <i>Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog</i>, was a 'musical tragicomedy in three acts' made specifically for internet distribution. Whedon's fans continued to enjoy his work and eulogise about his talent but the financial success, needed to gain backing from studios, still seemed to allude him.<br />
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2012 was an exciting year as it saw the release of horror film <i>The </i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>2012's Avengers Assemble - just fantastic!</i></td></tr>
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Cabin in the Woods</i>, which he both wrote and produced, and the film adaptation of Marvel's <i>Avengers</i>, which he wrote and directed. Both films were fantastic - demonstrating once again, Whedon's ability to tell unique stories with depth and character. This time, however, the financial success to go with the adoration of his fans and, to date, <i>Avengers</i> is the third highest-grossing film of all time.<br />
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At present, Whedon is reported to be working on a TV show, again based on Marvel characters, currently titled <i>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D</i> and a sequel to the <i>Avengers</i>, due for release in 2015. I can't wait to see more of his work.<br />
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Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-88654512198971962632013-04-10T01:00:00.000+02:002013-04-10T09:49:35.533+02:00I is for In The Driving Seat<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHEbjHOnHuqpL0dpqjN6hKoSuXVizZJmP7H5UInaaNK6ifnethiaPUg1xmRgkahCCRBIj3vS_92vqy0Xq0i0mJumvzsk5v3Dqqu-JiqUwhnEqHZ9kHZKMfXmRB7TQv5R0JkoC2Fpv1Dw/s1600/23573_315226321007_7391767_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHEbjHOnHuqpL0dpqjN6hKoSuXVizZJmP7H5UInaaNK6ifnethiaPUg1xmRgkahCCRBIj3vS_92vqy0Xq0i0mJumvzsk5v3Dqqu-JiqUwhnEqHZ9kHZKMfXmRB7TQv5R0JkoC2Fpv1Dw/s320/23573_315226321007_7391767_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>On passing my test - February 2010.</i></td></tr>
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One of the biggest challenges of my life to date was learning to drive. When I was 17, I was bought driving lessons by Mum and Dad and duly completed the application for my provisional driving license. Back then, full of youthful enthusiasm, I thought it would be easy to learn. My license arrived, I found a million other diversions and the lessons never happened.<br />
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Fast forward 6 or 7 years and, post-University, and living at the top of a very tiring hill in a West Yorkshire village, the urge to learn hit me again. I scrimped and saved the money I could to re-apply for a provisional license (having lost my original) and booked a block of 5 lessons. The license arrived, as did the instructor - a surly, no-nonsense Yorkshireman who, whilst kind to me, spent most of the first lesson informing me of his political views, swearing at other drivers and asserting that any non-white drivers would be driving un-taxed and un-insured cars. It is very hard trying to hold your tongue and concentrate on your clutch control at the same time. I'd like to say that this story ends with me giving him a piece of my mind and demanding a refund. Unfortunately, it actually ends with me running away from the car after my second lesson and avoiding his calls for several months. I didn't want to have to endure further diatribes on immigration, get into heated debates whilst trying to do hard drivery things or the admit to him, and myself, that I was giving up on my driving ambition so easily.<br />
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When I turned 29, I set myself a series of goals I wanted to achieve<a href="http://beforesarahis30.blogspot.co.uk/search?updated-max=2008-03-05T18:11:00Z&max-results=7&start=7&by-date=false" target="_blank"> by the time I turned 30.</a> One of them was to finally learn to drive and pass my test. As with most of the goals I set, I didn't manage this by my 30th, but I did make steady progress throughout 2008 and 2009, with an excellent instructor, this time in Bradford. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jim-The-Driving-Instructor/141817171611" target="_blank">Jim Mallatratt</a> was an amazing teacher. Patient and considerate he really took the time to ensure I knew why I needed to do things, as well as how to do them. He could gauge very well what I needed to practice and, just when I felt a bit down about my progress, he would suggest great things such as a drive to a local village or town I hadn't been to before. Without making it obvious he always managed to remind me why I was learning to drive and the benefits it would bring, without being patronising or preachy.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>With Moira in London, April 2011.</i></td></tr>
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Friends and family sat, many a time, listening to me moan about the difficulties of roundabouts or quizzing those that drove on the secret to reversing around corners. Most of all they listened to me venting my frustration that I could not do this<i> thing</i>, this infuriating <i>thing</i>, of learning to operate a car properly and deal with traffic.<br />
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One of the most patient and encouraging of all my friends was Moira, a friend I had made when we taught Art History together at Bradford College. We had enjoyed many adventures together and, so often, we had only been able to do these things because she had driven us there. She was a constant source of encouragement - kicking my arse when I was getting scared off or began to look for excuses not to carry on - or talking me through the things I found difficult. She, like so many other friends, put up with constant questions about their driving when giving me lifts anywhere, with no hint of aggravation or annoyance. Most of all she kept reminding me of the one big thing that driving gives you - freedom.<br />
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I passed my test on my second attempt on 18th February 2010 - just off my 31st Birthday - and I was over the moon. I couldn't believe it when the Driving Examiner told me I had passed - I leapt from the car and began to jump up and down and hug a very embarrassed Jim! I made my way to Moira's a few nights later and we celebrated with champagne.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Moira with the celebratory champers!</i></td></tr>
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Despite passing this milestone, I was then left in a position of being unable to afford to buy, tax and insure a car. This was unfortunate, as I'd just met David and, as he lived 200 miles away, it would have been useful to be able to drive there! As it was, we managed, using coaches and trains up and down the country for almost a year, before I got a job near London and we were that much closer to each other.<br />
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Sadly, in 2011, Moira passed away. She had faced a long and difficult battle with cancer over many years and this time, she did not get better. It was a terrifically sad time. During Moi's last visit to London I expressed that I wanted to save up to buy a car and make use of the license I had fought so hard to get. To my surprise she was very determined to dissuade me, pointing out how useless a car was if you were near London and saying I should spend my money on other things. I was a little surprised at the time, given her constant encouragement previously. However, after she passed away, this conversation made a lot more sense. In her will, Moira left me her car, her wonderful car. A last gift - the gift of freedom.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQfoP_XCRgFJocPg4UqEbA8AU1XF_GtjNBSFMBmcJLQK14zGORMCL6SypgkYIj-JIC1z2TmtGQfbV08eXIrvXKcxarjhHRlr0w0uvBth1w7yuio62XsdAvN0btjauMjtYZxgDjy3qAzJU/s1600/peugeot_206_321272900152481.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQfoP_XCRgFJocPg4UqEbA8AU1XF_GtjNBSFMBmcJLQK14zGORMCL6SypgkYIj-JIC1z2TmtGQfbV08eXIrvXKcxarjhHRlr0w0uvBth1w7yuio62XsdAvN0btjauMjtYZxgDjy3qAzJU/s200/peugeot_206_321272900152481.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My lovely car looks just like this one!</i></td></tr>
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Having the car has made a big difference to our lives. It has taken me a while to get back in the driving seat and I have to admit I still get a little nervous on long drives, but actually it has been lots of fun. I've had the obligatory bump, I've stalled it a few times and I've done the 'believing the sat-nav' newbie error and ended up down a farm track in the dark.<br />
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The best thing the car has given us is that precious freedom. We can plan holidays in the middle of the countryside, agree to go to parties and occasions that may be very far from public transport links, we can visit family members and even just get to the shops whenever we want. We don't really need a car as we can walk to work, but we do, at the moment, need so much that feeling of freedom. Being able to get away from it all, or at least knowing that you can if you want to, is a tremendous feeling. Thank you, Moi!<br />
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<br />Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-63020821868899668142013-04-09T01:00:00.000+02:002013-04-09T09:39:48.410+02:00H is for Holmes FamilyMy family are awesome. Barmy, quirky and, at times, somewhat annoying, but awesome all the same.<br />
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My Mum and Dad met in the summer of '69 and married on my Dad's 20th Birthday, in August 1970. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEiJMqNL-g0u0Wdb0lMrCpXdb6oKZ9eJ3s7d8HHHJ33GFLVKi8yQoQB2QcxyTw7NV7H7nXw0qLb1EJ2cy7TAVE4Ii5JP5JI-x4zb9oB_CoLQ0a7ISStN0-yFUaQHggavI0mjNZiwOjCF8/s1600/8631448915_8e89caaf36_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEiJMqNL-g0u0Wdb0lMrCpXdb6oKZ9eJ3s7d8HHHJ33GFLVKi8yQoQB2QcxyTw7NV7H7nXw0qLb1EJ2cy7TAVE4Ii5JP5JI-x4zb9oB_CoLQ0a7ISStN0-yFUaQHggavI0mjNZiwOjCF8/s320/8631448915_8e89caaf36_b.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mum & Dad on their Wedding Day - 1st August 1970</i></td></tr>
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Mum and the bridesmaids all wore cute hand-made mini-dresses and the bouquets consisted of sweet-pea flowers from a friend's garden. The stories of the day are oft-repeated and, whilst my brother and I roll our eyes when they come around again, the story of the cold beef sandwich-filled reception in my Grandma's garden is very sweet. This simplicity and shared joy of the happy event with friends and family gathered around, tucking into home-made food with so many people giving their time, talents and contributions to make it happen, is very touching. I've enjoyed many lovely wedding celebrations in recent years but often, when I hear of the thousands of pounds that go into such a day, I wonder whether it can really beat a buffet in the back-garden and flowers from friends.<br />
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Mum and Dad renewed their vows in 2000 to mark their 30th Wedding Anniversary in a lovely event, which was a little more lavish than their earlier wedding, but very moving. To see your own parents restate the vows that, for them, hold religious significance, as well as personal import, was a lovely experience. In 2010, on Dad's 60th birthday, and their 40th Wedding Anniversary, they held <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sarahholmes/sets/72157624516150199/" target="_blank">a big party for all their friends and family</a> on a friend's farm. A local band played, we danced to some of their favourite music and everyone bought picnics to enjoy together, sat on hay bales. It seemed a very appropriate reflection of their original day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvIpODYg6YevEXZ1_TqwOWqNHE4DFx0x12gbXqlPQyCCPHPQz7kvbpomjn1cq2IfvlIIUllVeJpmE7k4czuUsipHS7lVPnM-9FPHxUJxAucu7hCJRZkn5ruOtiWO3-FEXLwbzfq0bONs/s1600/Mum+Dad+anniversary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxvIpODYg6YevEXZ1_TqwOWqNHE4DFx0x12gbXqlPQyCCPHPQz7kvbpomjn1cq2IfvlIIUllVeJpmE7k4czuUsipHS7lVPnM-9FPHxUJxAucu7hCJRZkn5ruOtiWO3-FEXLwbzfq0bONs/s320/Mum+Dad+anniversary.jpg" width="187" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mum & Dad dancing<br />at their 40th<br />Wedding Anniversary Party</i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYRVUhFT2f2oJWTQd1Awcjcf98w596khyphenhyphen-d5DzwTHWK_b1L3w_0MlA0lm2dIBq0Ly5sXN4aqB9bj2erkGXHOYatUi7_QuI81DSzgYoED3156FPRVZsu9X9ygrXfAvOYAj9PPXcfGdVnXk/s1600/733755_10151270963606008_2059948320_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYRVUhFT2f2oJWTQd1Awcjcf98w596khyphenhyphen-d5DzwTHWK_b1L3w_0MlA0lm2dIBq0Ly5sXN4aqB9bj2erkGXHOYatUi7_QuI81DSzgYoED3156FPRVZsu9X9ygrXfAvOYAj9PPXcfGdVnXk/s200/733755_10151270963606008_2059948320_n.jpg" width="168" /></a>My Mum trained as a teacher and worked within primary and nursery education throughout my childhood and early teenage years, taking a short career break to be a full time Mum when my brother and I were very little. Mum managed to be a very busy person, often dashing off to village committees, church events or meetings surrounding the charities and organisations she was part of, but she always made lots of time to spend with us, too. Whether it was hiding away from the thunder and lightning with us when we were scared, reading us endless stories, patiently appearing in my self-penned 'plays' or helping me learn readings or speeches for school - with me stood at the top of the stairs 'projecting' down to her in the living room - there was always time for us. I don't know how she did it all. One of Mum's many roles in the village of Carleton, where they now live, is running the <a href="http://carletonvillagearchive.co.uk/" target="_blank">village archive</a>, cataloguing artefacts and images that record its long history. They are currently preparing for their next exhibition.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivUbjhuMJKhJ0xpRWrbgKXrjD2VOXXwPmCMwdnT1moUrLqJaG_VuclV04CgSzfsgQjRlxrS-7Z0hdkPeaadWWhMQqPhP7IR9uX9NjAICzsr4HvJHYZ6ZbOkhlyys-ZinG6nga0nRplcY0/s1600/8631448877_e26bcbe8f0_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivUbjhuMJKhJ0xpRWrbgKXrjD2VOXXwPmCMwdnT1moUrLqJaG_VuclV04CgSzfsgQjRlxrS-7Z0hdkPeaadWWhMQqPhP7IR9uX9NjAICzsr4HvJHYZ6ZbOkhlyys-ZinG6nga0nRplcY0/s200/8631448877_e26bcbe8f0_b.jpg" width="200" /></a>Dad worked as a photographer and film-maker for many years during my childhood, before retraining as a lecturer and working in Further Education for most of my teenage years. He was a very caring and calm figure in my childhood, always keen to encourage us, always finding time for our stories and activities and mediating very well in disagreements. I spent many happy Saturdays 'helping' him with his wedding photography business - his own business that he managed to run alongside working full-time. Teaching full-time myself now, and without even having any children to consider, I know I couldn't manage it. Again, I don't know how he did it. He now runs his own production company and works for an Examination Board, training other teachers in the delivery of courses and monitoring the marking and grading of a number of qualifications. He is in charge of checking the quality of the same course I currently teach and I've done work for the same exam board, which makes for lots of in-depth discussions that bore everyone else when we have family get-togethers. Dad is currently enjoying the fact that a lot of his work is taking him all over the world - to India, Africa, America and all over Europe. He has written a number of <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/A2-GCE-Media-Communication-Production/dp/0435463640/ref=sr_1_13?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1365435853&sr=1-13" target="_blank">textbooks</a> and teacher guides for qualifications he has worked on and, in 2008<a href="http://books.google.co.uk/books?id=5Sw7ch-bSWEC&pg=PA266&dq=sarah+holmes+edexcel+diploma&hl=en&sa=X&ei=OOZiUcq0HsrX0QWRzoGQBw&ved=0CEAQ6AEwAA" target="_blank"> we co-wrote a book for students</a> of a new Diploma qualification. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiThPkCMrzyB3opQB3dfkW1k5_Y0nrYLNi_qXV_5pz9lgS7SdKjJ3JhbVqfhyphenhyphen0NItD5Ap0x1ERm7gCva8xAmWzvnREm-nqnYaaHoIoXXaKqOMEEwvEPHjH54E27dEGvWOGYsDVzfbOJfbA/s1600/9621_131438696007_2074514_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiThPkCMrzyB3opQB3dfkW1k5_Y0nrYLNi_qXV_5pz9lgS7SdKjJ3JhbVqfhyphenhyphen0NItD5Ap0x1ERm7gCva8xAmWzvnREm-nqnYaaHoIoXXaKqOMEEwvEPHjH54E27dEGvWOGYsDVzfbOJfbA/s320/9621_131438696007_2074514_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tom and I (AKA Tweedledee & Tweedledum)</i></td></tr>
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My brother Tom, is an amazing photographer, who takes great advantage of living in beautiful North Yorkshire by capturing stunning shots of the<a href="http://www.jimmylemon.co.uk/" target="_blank"> landscapes, people</a> and <a href="http://liveoopnorth.co.uk/" target="_blank">events</a> of the region. Like me, he followed Dad's lead and studied Media at University before beginning his own business designing websites and hosting, before focussing more on his photography. I'm so proud of his talent and he is currently undertaking a new venture, selling his work as part of a craft co-operative in Skipton, the <br />
town he lives in. He has such an eye for a shot, influenced, no doubt, by the training behind the lens we both had from Dad in our childhood. We spent a lot of our younger years bickering, despite the fact that I was overwhelmingly excited at his arrival - suggesting the name 'Escalator' as an ideal moniker for my new brother and 'helping' a lot when he arrived. However, I was the model of a bossy big sister and my adventurous, and slightly naughtier, little brother had to endure years of being 'told on' by a goody-two-shoes. We get on really well now, we've plenty of shared interests and I love spending time with him, but I'm sad to think of the years I wasted being petty and irritating.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBUHlVlvsLzakEnC5csP-bDdrloCvjJA6GlHldHgjj_kS3i_1bgYiHoB3AWsqiD6s6_uQyPVUe38NU60VAWyrZX3Id2ciNwt0Bd5aQJ0yBpLJvkQEGy0dK8_X5y-RYiRKXRGB3OWExok0/s1600/8631448963_d42d370712_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBUHlVlvsLzakEnC5csP-bDdrloCvjJA6GlHldHgjj_kS3i_1bgYiHoB3AWsqiD6s6_uQyPVUe38NU60VAWyrZX3Id2ciNwt0Bd5aQJ0yBpLJvkQEGy0dK8_X5y-RYiRKXRGB3OWExok0/s200/8631448963_d42d370712_b.jpg" width="130" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tom and I in the<br />Christmas Card<br />Years. </i></td></tr>
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Very surprisingly, given that we have two amazing photographers in the family, when it comes to having a photo of all four of us together, we fail <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRL7wZi9DcynSVIJzJS8C_rZiUWpgXbbRmnlMAHErlFF2mkUtwiFN313MGXpiv1cpY_tUcMeepsCxsEstT1ehNAcgW1DCy1fTaW0AOR3VC-D6fYMD_nqFaRYeG_53wYRGIE01gezgqGw/s1600/anniversary+party+fam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRL7wZi9DcynSVIJzJS8C_rZiUWpgXbbRmnlMAHErlFF2mkUtwiFN313MGXpiv1cpY_tUcMeepsCxsEstT1ehNAcgW1DCy1fTaW0AOR3VC-D6fYMD_nqFaRYeG_53wYRGIE01gezgqGw/s320/anniversary+party+fam.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mum's accidental hat is the charm in this one.</i></td></tr>
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miserably. My Dad took endless, wonderful photographs of us as children (and then sent them to everyone as Christmas cards - yes, we were <i>that</i> family). However, when looking for a shot of us all together I find many where some of us look good, but in most someone is not looking at the camera / grimacing / looking drugged / talking / in some way looking a bit odd. Perhaps, like the adage of a builder's home being full of half-finished renovation projects, a photographer is doomed to never be effectively captured on film.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipheqke-achsZC3UZxmImaXRUIBzBQwi_eWqoevUARnosDV0yKsc9XsvJV_Kmd8CcEB-kLVr4H9Pa4WyYgj_wcpMQlXbIzZoQx_9bPCxZEd2fhl1Q-DXalJq4qh_KVzEwNC0Do1260Dz8/s1600/115_6750411150_6107_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipheqke-achsZC3UZxmImaXRUIBzBQwi_eWqoevUARnosDV0yKsc9XsvJV_Kmd8CcEB-kLVr4H9Pa4WyYgj_wcpMQlXbIzZoQx_9bPCxZEd2fhl1Q-DXalJq4qh_KVzEwNC0Do1260Dz8/s320/115_6750411150_6107_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A shot only Tom really comes out of well. </i></td></tr>
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Overall, we are a family of hugs, laughter, love and support. That isn't to say that there isn't friction - we all grate on each other at times, and in our own distinct ways. That isn't unusual in families, though, and, frankly, I think it would be dull any other way. I'm lucky to have been brought up in such a caring and encouraging environment and I am continually reminded of how much time, care and sacrifice must have gone into raising my brother and I as I see friends with their own little ones. We are lucky, but, sadly, we are not photogenic!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipS96u9SBU1UBYDl98EjiJcw6pLdMFxLHiKJ1kOC9jeyQWiZ9gWpI9WpL6p3e1aB1O-N6n_l8QELWBJzxHYbf5J0lMbOtWN5JEUp_JUOIL1KrLWACLn2vVldROeVLTebEZynCaAiOLzvs/s1600/my+fault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipS96u9SBU1UBYDl98EjiJcw6pLdMFxLHiKJ1kOC9jeyQWiZ9gWpI9WpL6p3e1aB1O-N6n_l8QELWBJzxHYbf5J0lMbOtWN5JEUp_JUOIL1KrLWACLn2vVldROeVLTebEZynCaAiOLzvs/s320/my+fault.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>To be fair, this one was all my fault...</i></td></tr>
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<br />Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-73664068616346926242013-04-08T01:00:00.000+02:002013-04-11T14:32:51.529+02:00G is for Guiding <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIogyM4qAwkLXwgkmb9vKH_eCeFUB3AXg8gCivem0YyB8-oarMNK1BqRxuy1wdq1yQepRFoUxhawFSAqobTxXy8yKsAMctvvPbi-wCyRdla7uBza2Qcc1DV6zl4VAboL6yv6qwIKSKcoQ/s1600/enrolment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="397" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIogyM4qAwkLXwgkmb9vKH_eCeFUB3AXg8gCivem0YyB8-oarMNK1BqRxuy1wdq1yQepRFoUxhawFSAqobTxXy8yKsAMctvvPbi-wCyRdla7uBza2Qcc1DV6zl4VAboL6yv6qwIKSKcoQ/s400/enrolment.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Getting enrolled to 4th Spondon Brownies by Brown Owl in 1986.</i></td></tr>
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When I was young, I took a solemn oath. A promise that I felt was incredibly important and I took it very seriously. On uttering these words, I would enter that most desired of states for my 7 year-old self - a full, proper, actual Brownie.<br />
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"I promise that I will do my best, to do my duty to God, to serve the Queen, help other people and to keep the Brownie Guide Law."<br />
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I adored Brownies. I loved the uniform (bobble hat and all). I was meticulous about the special items that all Brownies had to have with them at all times (a big old-fashioned 10p piece, 30cm of string, a clean handkerchief and a notebook and pencil) I loved that everyone has special names, just for Brownie night, and that we belonged to a 'pack' and a 'six'. I was sold on it all.<br />
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Tuesday night or 'Brownie Night' was one of the highlights of my week. 4th Spondon Brownies, in the old Guide Hut on West Road, with its melamine surfaces and musty smell was the place to be. Perhaps because I was so much smaller then, or maybe because we spent a lot of time sat on the floor, I remember the carpet particularly well. The rough, scratchy grey/green carpet with its splodges of spilt candle wax, from marshmallow toasting or christingle making, hardened into mysterious black pools.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBPWLZ7wjSSOfhqF3NZQvVWl816qFBDGoS2_oTuCHhP5eL59WXK9zhLLvpx5fHoazvDXb-hz1ejhQMw_9R9W52ALqXRevxdczqoMnbPfFSsCS8afdEqQSS8YxdPxdl4qdPi7luq4bg8n0/s1600/leprechaun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBPWLZ7wjSSOfhqF3NZQvVWl816qFBDGoS2_oTuCHhP5eL59WXK9zhLLvpx5fHoazvDXb-hz1ejhQMw_9R9W52ALqXRevxdczqoMnbPfFSsCS8afdEqQSS8YxdPxdl4qdPi7luq4bg8n0/s200/leprechaun.jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Leprechaun</i><br />
<i>badge that I proudly </i><br />
<i>wore</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I remember arriving at my first meeting with trepidation to see some familiar faces from my village all stood in this mysterious hut in groups of six, in straight rows. Their shiny school shoes, often given a special polish for Brownie night, along with their curious uniforms had me intrigued. I couldn't wait to join their ranks and before I could be introduced, I automatically joined the end of one of the rows and grinned at the lady in blue, who I later learned to be Brown Owl.<br />
<br />
I was a proud Leprechaun and I was so pleased when I joined to meet my 'Sixer', who I continued to embarrass greatly by announcing her title, rather pompously, whenever I saw her in the street. It is only in retrospect that I can see the gulf that exists between the barely 7 year-old new recruit and the oh-so mature, and responsibility-weary, 10 year-old Sixer. At the time, I was as enamoured with her as I was Brown Owl, Tawny Owl and Snowy Owl - all of whom I decided, immediately, were brilliant.<br />
<br />
My time at Brownies taught me so many things. I earned badges in subjects as diverse as dance, orienteering, animal care and sugarcraft. I learned about Brownies all over the world, raised money for different causes, furthered my knowledge of history, formed close friendships with girls I would never have otherwise known and laughed and sang and danced my way through so many evenings of my childhood. From formal Remembrance Day marches through town, once as flag bearer, to watching enthusiastic district Gang Show <a href="http://www.flyinghigh.org.uk/index.php" target="_blank">'Flying High' </a>- I devoured all that came with Brownies as well as my treasured Tuesday evenings.<br />
<br />
Perhaps one of the best memories of a Brownie event, which really demonstrates the supportive spirit of <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZfwu-8XBdyroQDl7sCik5hVKnnFURdv5742guz3SO87x1DJFuKCDCYr0ioJ_nLs6Cx-JMR3mhVi62KWOJ_6mcK3Dog1z0KZo5gbAxAojBA8TqDt_2RZFM_bQfQi-_wtcHicrQUL3gHk/s1600/guidehut.preview.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZfwu-8XBdyroQDl7sCik5hVKnnFURdv5742guz3SO87x1DJFuKCDCYr0ioJ_nLs6Cx-JMR3mhVi62KWOJ_6mcK3Dog1z0KZo5gbAxAojBA8TqDt_2RZFM_bQfQi-_wtcHicrQUL3gHk/s320/guidehut.preview.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The mysteriously carpeted Guide Hut in Spondon.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
the organisation, comes from my first ever Swimming Gala. I was a steady, but slow, swimmer, who had volunteered to undertake the 200 metres race when no-one else did. On the day, I lined up, tubby and beaming in my flowery swimming cap alongside a row of lithe 'swims for the county' types who prepared to dive in. I hadn't done diving at swimming lessons yet so jumped into the pool as they dived gracefully in, pulling ahead quickly as they butterfly stroked up the pool. My determined front crawl took me twice as long as the winner, leaving a gala full of people two full lengths to watch my chubby face become redder with embarrassment and exhaustion. However, I finished. I gracelessly hauled myself out of the pool to a raucous round of applause and a special award for 'determination'. The warmth of the applause and the hero's welcome I received from my pack when I returned to them, shivering in my towel, said it all.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyj0bflOo7I2XK03pqv3yaC-enbLE9BSnqwEgXZQZR2r6MUZTU61kFwPVvxK-Y5o_JdGHlRDnF0-CGbMGZ21HU9__YoFlyEJF20K2RXVm_5apmk2CqY3miXyendOtAoRKFryJvf28F4iM/s1600/swimming+badge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyj0bflOo7I2XK03pqv3yaC-enbLE9BSnqwEgXZQZR2r6MUZTU61kFwPVvxK-Y5o_JdGHlRDnF0-CGbMGZ21HU9__YoFlyEJF20K2RXVm_5apmk2CqY3miXyendOtAoRKFryJvf28F4iM/s200/swimming+badge.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My hard-earned Brownie Swimmer<br />badge.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My first ever camping experience - sleeping over in the big hall at <a href="http://www.drumhill.org.uk/" target="_blank">Drum Hill Scout Camp</a> was thrilling. I learned a lot that weekend - how to make a bedding roll, how much fun rope swings could be, how to make toast on an open fire and the fact that attempting bunny hops inside a sleeping bag will result in a bruised arse. I would later revisit the place and be surprised by how very mundane and ordinary it was compared to my childhood memory of it as a haven of hot chocolate and camp songs.<br />
<br />
Sadly, my progression to Guides was not one I found particularly satisfying. As they progress beyond 10 years old, girls do become that degree bitchier and crueller and I found myself dragging my heels that little bit more as I made my way to meetings. I missed Brown Owl, the endless summer evening games of rounders, the responsibility of being a Sixer and the frantic games of 'cat and mouse'. Guides was more about baking, crafts and, most significantly in my memory, the importance of making a shoe-rack by lashing together sticks with string... when camping. It wasn't really my scene.<br />
<br />
Fairly quickly, I made the shift to becoming a Young Leader - the scheme set up to encourage those who've been in Guiding to move to volunteering as leaders themselves. I immediately loved it and<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi29qHlntiDtWEk1S-mLVGX_n_TzZwgUZwsWkeN3x1EWj7mj_xb9M0znJPI90NCP5jhOWsx_7O39hfpt-n2SEgrToo3dqsazJFKkSyQHG00ce7n-mM7zmeyxBh7FAtQlnArMhO9PGxXM7s/s1600/young+leader.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi29qHlntiDtWEk1S-mLVGX_n_TzZwgUZwsWkeN3x1EWj7mj_xb9M0znJPI90NCP5jhOWsx_7O39hfpt-n2SEgrToo3dqsazJFKkSyQHG00ce7n-mM7zmeyxBh7FAtQlnArMhO9PGxXM7s/s200/young+leader.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My Young Leader badge,<br />awarded on completion of my<br />Young Leader training.</i></td></tr>
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quickly formed friendships with the others who were all undertaking the programme under supervision of a Guide Leader of considerable experience, Cath Fletcher (or Cath-With-The-Laugh as we later named her for her distinctive and unfailingly contagious chuckle). I relished these evenings and took her advice on board, initially working as a Young Leader with a pack of 5 - 7 year-old, Rainbow Guides, before moving on to work with, yes, you guessed it, 4th Spondon Brownies! My old pack! I was thrilled to be back with my old leaders and to be part of the planning and organisation of equally exciting adventures for a new generation of girls.<br />
<br />
'My' Brown Owl, Anne Brownhill was an amazing woman. Always enthusiastic, keen to hear our news, able to control a room full of over-excited young girls with a few quiet words - she was the most patient of people and the most adventurous of souls. We used to listen in admiration as we<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEpzmXTr4kE6Md2A58KznUPf6jXsWgknKaL7JXZC6owGjr2_q6_TH3aqYroBLjkIgF3eJVaZOZg3UVnsPnBgs1UJi3Q9ahRb_UkwTWQDeyRJI8V_dLknL-u6XyWHOtwbFPv3vPpsWY1Zo/s1600/Anne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEpzmXTr4kE6Md2A58KznUPf6jXsWgknKaL7JXZC6owGjr2_q6_TH3aqYroBLjkIgF3eJVaZOZg3UVnsPnBgs1UJi3Q9ahRb_UkwTWQDeyRJI8V_dLknL-u6XyWHOtwbFPv3vPpsWY1Zo/s1600/Anne.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Anne and her husband George, receiving<br />an award from their running club in<br />2008: <a href="http://www.evrc.co.uk/tonytrem2008" target="_blank">Link here</a></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
heard tales of the long-distance hikes, running races and outdoor adventures she had been on. It is easy as a child to assume that things like Brownies just happen, and Brown Owl turns up on a Tuesday and all the amazing activities, games, trips and badge-work occur naturally. As an adult it is awe-inspiring to consider that as well as the enormous amount of time and energy Brownies must have taken up, she also had a full-time job as a Postwoman, a family of her own and of course her outdoor hobbies. Anne and Nina Winrow (Tawny Owl) only <a href="http://www.thisisderbyshire.co.uk/Owls-Anne-Nina-bow-30-years-head-pack/story-16559696-detail/story.html#axzz2PhPu6HSH" target="_blank">retired from their roles in July last year</a>, meaning Ann served for 30 years within Guiding. She was a wonderful role model to have and, I think, her influence on a whole generation in my village will be seen in the lives of women, now scattered around the country.<br />
<br />
I left Guiding when A-Level exams called and the prospect of University peeped over the horizon. At the time I was busy studying, going to parties, obsessing about bands and falling in love for the first time. I don't think I realised at the time what I was walking away from.<br />
<br />
Modern day Guiding still remains as relevant and important as ever, in my opinion. The celebrations for the centenary of <a href="http://www.girlguiding.org.uk/home.aspx" target="_blank">Girlguiding </a>(as it is now called) in 2010 brought to light again the importance that this movement has. It remains as popular with younger girls and has moved well with the times, with Brownies now working towards badges such as Communicator, Crime Prevention and Disability Awareness. Despite a dislike of same-sex education streaming, I can see a real value in clubs and societies such as Rainbows, Brownies and Guides where girls can spend time with those of their own gender. The chance to experiment, romp, laugh, be silly, make-believe and develop skills in the <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8TBSWQiDarCYkzBPL2O_36uS4HPq_ko83djvbERETDwzufbaa1waFwFEDaGYlKOhojCr7XwX9Qcn_WUEitqbDH8VUwSSsFVUhF1V363J-cx53t2L6iqDuozp-e7vrPWrZcCJNrXUkn3M/s1600/girl-guiding-logo.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8TBSWQiDarCYkzBPL2O_36uS4HPq_ko83djvbERETDwzufbaa1waFwFEDaGYlKOhojCr7XwX9Qcn_WUEitqbDH8VUwSSsFVUhF1V363J-cx53t2L6iqDuozp-e7vrPWrZcCJNrXUkn3M/s1600/girl-guiding-logo.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The current motto for the movement -<br />a fantastically positive message.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
company of other girls can, I believe, have a valuable impact. Having shared mixed classrooms all my life, I have seen how the slower rate of maturation and the general tendency towards higher self-confidence in some boys can have a devastating impact on young women's willingness to try new things or risk making a fool of themselves. Guiding gives girls this opportunity and, as part of a wider range of activities, I believe it is a very positive thing.<br />
<br />
I can't honestly say I've stuck to my 7-year old solemn Brownie Guide promise. In adulthood, I don't have any religious faith so I suppose my 'duty to God' went out of the window, somewhat. I also have absolutely no intention of serving the Queen, in any way. However, the Brownie Guide Law is something that I think I shall always abide by and it will hopefully continue to be a motto close to my heart throughout my life.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"A Brownie Guide thinks of others before herself, and does a good turn every day."</b></div>
<br />
<br />
UPDATE - I was very pleased to read that GirlGuiding <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/media/2013/apr/09/girl-guides-sun-page-3" target="_blank">have added their voices to the campaign</a> to end the inclusion of topless photography on Page 3 of tabloid newspapers in the UK. Yay, go Girlguides!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-73503494309248512992013-04-06T03:04:00.001+02:002013-04-06T10:18:46.214+02:00F is for Fight Club<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.amovieaweek.com/images/fightclub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.amovieaweek.com/images/fightclub.jpg" width="242" /></a>Being asked to name your favourite film of all time is never easy. I love films and my passion for the art of cinema was one of the driving forces behind the choices I made in my academic and professional life. However, asking me to choose just one example of the medium is practically impossible. Whenever this discussion does arise, though, there are several hardy perennials that come into my top 10. One of them is David Fincher’s, 1999 film, <i>Fight Club</i>. </div>
<br />
Based on <a href="http://chuckpalahniuk.net/books/fight-club" target="_blank">Chuck Palahniuk’s fantastic novel</a>, the film focuses on the relationship between an un-named, insomniac, insurance office worker and his relationship with Tyler Durden, a soap salesman who, in the film, he meets on a long distance flight. The story follows the pair as they develop a ‘fight club’, in which men meet to fight, bareknuckle, for the thrill of the bout and the catharsis of the subsequent pain. We see our lead character start to attend support sessions for those with terminal diseases, despite his relative good health, as he finds this experience is the only cure for his insomnia. Here he meets Marla Singer, a fellow 'grief tourist' who, later, establishes a rather confused relationship with Tyler. The fight clubs, eventually, develop into an ethos, and a form of cult, with the main protagonist abandoning his former ‘white-collar’ life to help build, with Durden, an anarchist faction, ‘Project Mayhem’. As the story unfolds we see the real extent of the following this has gained and the true nature of its eventual aims. I won’t spoil the twist at the heart of the story, but we end on a scene of destruction as several major buildings explode, in an attempt by Project Mayhem to wipe out the credit card debt records of some major corporations. <br />
<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/pIwToj3p3vM?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>One of my favourite scenes is when we meet Tyler Durden </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>for the first time. "How is that working out for you... being clever?"</i></div>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWt73W9-9lOgQKcfmNt707C1LkXucKI9ZeHzgQr4Bbu8UHi8Ttyy6aFIM2TIPdOrJFWAeqtb6ovSFx2ddrlEs3iv7JsfzAdLSEJjzRcaiXV9TCVFmCGji6MMuJafuUFhVF6E6chLhhuW8/s1600/marla-singer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWt73W9-9lOgQKcfmNt707C1LkXucKI9ZeHzgQr4Bbu8UHi8Ttyy6aFIM2TIPdOrJFWAeqtb6ovSFx2ddrlEs3iv7JsfzAdLSEJjzRcaiXV9TCVFmCGji6MMuJafuUFhVF6E6chLhhuW8/s320/marla-singer.jpg" width="259" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Helena Bonham-Carter as Marla Singer<br />"If I did have a tumour, I would name it Marla"</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The novel’s overt criticism of the capitalist state and the all-pervading power of advertising is played off against some potent homoerotic overtones, which screenwriter Jim Ehls, retains for the screen version. His interpretation of the heart of the novel into the dreamlike, mutli-layered narrative of the screenplay is genius and pays homage to its literary roots without slavish re-treading the same path. <br />
<br />
Fincher’s direction is superb, evoking a strange semi-conscious state through layered imagery, jump-cuts and visual effects, clearly inspired by his time working in music video. The complex and non-linear narrative weaves swiftly between the hyper-real and the hallucinatory, with surreal scenes such as the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=boj75h3urLU" target="_blank">‘power animal’ penguin</a> giving us a glimpse into the mind of a character who barely knows his own thoughts. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://interscription.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/slide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="123" src="http://interscription.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/slide.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>'Slide' - one of the film's most<br />famously surreal segments.</i></td></tr>
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When I saw the trailers for the film originally, given its surface appeal as a testosterone-drenched, ‘fight’ movie, I couldn’t have been less interested. It was definitely promoted as an action-thriller (I now realise by a jittery distributor who had no confidence in the film) and the violent title and over-exposure of a bloodied, stripped-to-the-waist Pitt in the promo material, meant my initial reaction was similar to that of anything boxing-related. No. Thank. You. I couldn’t have been more wrong. As this excellent essay highlights, the<a href="http://myspork.wordpress.com/essays-prose/unmarked-men-feminism-in-fight-club/" target="_blank"> feminist message of the film</a> is often vastly under-rated and the more obvious anti-capitalist message makes a very potent point. It manages to highlight that people are being lulled into this semi-conscious state by the drip-feed of corporate promotion whilst also demonstrating that if this is taken away, we have to be prepared to offer people an alternative. The brutal and destructive nature of 'Project Mayhem' and the damage it wreaks on the lives of those involved also manages to underline how revolutionary power, in the wrong hands, can be as damaging as that which it was attempting to overthrow. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.theruggedmale.com/dev/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Fight-Club-Ed-Norton-600x400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://www.theruggedmale.com/dev/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Fight-Club-Ed-Norton-600x400.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Seeing our protagonist dismiss the social etiquette of</i><br />
<i>the world he inhabits is somewhat cathartic for</i><br />
<i>anyone who has ever worked in an office.</i> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Fight Club is a film that would not be made today. Quite apart from the fact that we see the city <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vVof0qj7SOw" target="_blank">skyline crumble at the climax of the film</a>, in a way that will now always be reminiscent of the events of 9/11, the film’s very premise is based on an America that is enjoying a boom. Members of Project Mayhem are leaving jobs to join the cause – jobs that probably aren’t even there any more. Tyler states that this generation need to fight because <i>‘We have no Great War. No Great Depression.’</i> Sadly, this generation seems to have not only been given the ‘current economic climate’, which, in anyone’s books is a depression, great or not, but also several actual wars to fight - quite apart from the battle against capitalism. <br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfXY6Wk3Hs-4FZ7IE8-ShAEfKOcEd8xCvAO30hJl8VbPjlThh9ounalke1tJbS9XEW02fcgzc1NZdFaJri8n-odg9avt7aGhbnEEMNvv3XpL0b4K6OzLYu4M34iICA0rLHY-bsOZKS3AI/s1600/Movie-Stills-tyler-durden-26310076-2000-1296.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfXY6Wk3Hs-4FZ7IE8-ShAEfKOcEd8xCvAO30hJl8VbPjlThh9ounalke1tJbS9XEW02fcgzc1NZdFaJri8n-odg9avt7aGhbnEEMNvv3XpL0b4K6OzLYu4M34iICA0rLHY-bsOZKS3AI/s320/Movie-Stills-tyler-durden-26310076-2000-1296.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Brad Pitt as Tyler Durden - the charismatic,<br />dangerous agitator we are introduced to who is, in his<br />own words, "free in all the ways you are not".</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Fight Club meant a lot to me at a time when I was deciding who I was and what I believed. I didn’t need to go out and fight anyone to learn that, but that message about the ‘fight’ we all need to have to stay ahead of the driving forces of capitalism and the pressures of advertisers lives with me. I'm often reminded of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dN8vyO8ILD8" target="_blank">the 'Ikea' scene</a>, (where our lead expresses the satisfaction of acquiring those must-have glass bowls) whenever I feel the pull of nest-building acquisition. <br />
<br />
There are a lot of reasons I love this film. I love the message and the underlying questions it raises about the way we live our lives. I love the hectic edits and optical tricks thrown at us via the visually-rich direction. There are great performances, not just from Norton, Pitt and Bonham-Carter, but convincing, complex characterisations from people as surprising as Meatloaf, giving a stellar turn as Bob, one of the Mayhem recruits. The soundtrack is great, featuring the dirty, overdriven sounds of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27LLPANAgzw" target="_blank">Tom Waits</a>, The <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9oUhZvCC18" target="_blank">Dust Brothers</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uqHMZ9ez9Vg" target="_blank">The Pixies</a>. It is funny, moving, thrilling and thought-provoking, and not many films can boast that. It is an experience. One that, like it or not, you will fail to forget.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You are the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world."</i></div>
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<br />Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-90306988897519153562013-04-05T01:18:00.000+02:002013-04-05T11:30:50.368+02:00E is for Education<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHHj9A92rHXj6XrTt9cxfhu9Y5eAXQRQBDo-ojTMBNxo9rr0kh27BxOpLwyWHfIngO4ME0dmz5MasiOzRjVhG97vLX_kaWMT1ef23gE9u2PPJXqWc3b_FPBanyQST4LArgh_Mlsgxn7Zw/s1600/grad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHHj9A92rHXj6XrTt9cxfhu9Y5eAXQRQBDo-ojTMBNxo9rr0kh27BxOpLwyWHfIngO4ME0dmz5MasiOzRjVhG97vLX_kaWMT1ef23gE9u2PPJXqWc3b_FPBanyQST4LArgh_Mlsgxn7Zw/s200/grad.jpg" width="193" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Mum & Dad on my graduation <br />
from the Post-Grad Diploma in <br />
Post-Compulsory Education</td></tr>
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With two teachers for parents, I had always sworn I would never become one myself. Partly through pathetic rebellion, and partly from seeing first hand the stress, long working hours and dedication required by their roles, I was set that it would not be the path for me. <br />
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Fast-forward to me, aged 34 and I’ve now been teaching for 10 years. Having followed my ambition to become a journalist and finding it far from rewarding, I hesitantly decided to try some part-time teaching in further education. Just to keep me going. Just to tide me over. <br />
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The first time I stood up in front of a group and attempted to teach was actually during a job interview at a Further Education college in Stratford-Upon-Avon. I spent the night before trying to concoct something meaningful that I could do with 20 learners within 15 minutes. It was the most nerve-wracking part of quite a gruelling day of interviews, tests and meetings. However, the minute I stood up there and began to talk to those young people, something clicked within me. Something was suddenly right. It really was one of those ‘lightbulb moments’ that you hear about but never imagine would happen to you. They were a forgiving bunch of students, but they laughed at my jokes, answered my questions thoughtfully and joined in with enthusiasm. Those 15 minutes flew by and I walked out of that room knowing that, rebellion or no, I was a teacher. It just felt right in way nothing else had done. Maybe it is in the blood after all? <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLHFkq06SzPvktkmFFHywN7wP73e5CMkc6rqRaHT_KrYt94hJ84KmBMtU9RbgE4U4YF2lGfTkqB38Ey3TYL3CrrOOoyiX1VWg52SVavQCnFEJZaHRsLhMpGf8heEGlou_QIwXmDyskxI/s1600/class+of+2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSLHFkq06SzPvktkmFFHywN7wP73e5CMkc6rqRaHT_KrYt94hJ84KmBMtU9RbgE4U4YF2lGfTkqB38Ey3TYL3CrrOOoyiX1VWg52SVavQCnFEJZaHRsLhMpGf8heEGlou_QIwXmDyskxI/s320/class+of+2010.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first proper tutor group - during their final show.</td></tr>
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During my teaching career, I have seen the true power that Further Education can have. I’ve worked with confident, bright and able learners who have needed a little guidance as they fly through A-Levels to get to University. I’ve worked with students with learning difficulties who have spent their lives being told they are stupid, only to discover an amazing flair for photography or design and been able to support them and help them to achieve. I’ve had the privilege of being part of many people’s lives at what can be a tumultuous, stressful, exciting and emotional time. Further Education is life changing. It offers people the chance to experience new things, expand their knowledge and understanding, access new careers or educational opportunities and develop their self-confidence and self-worth. To see people go on from your classroom or workshop and succeed, in whatever way they choose, is just wonderful!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0aYSNGgEo3EyB6PzuYcs5eQZtiPp1fvdsuSyLXidzklGrogcnhSRP1QvBRXjs_mPDjSLLZMH2ntuIufJs6xlsAuQ2mTLJlaJq-XgOH7VNbSpORLb5XBnaowsVMHYNPkEs2oWUtZWuwUo/s1600/banana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0aYSNGgEo3EyB6PzuYcs5eQZtiPp1fvdsuSyLXidzklGrogcnhSRP1QvBRXjs_mPDjSLLZMH2ntuIufJs6xlsAuQ2mTLJlaJq-XgOH7VNbSpORLb5XBnaowsVMHYNPkEs2oWUtZWuwUo/s200/banana.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You never quite know what you<br />
will find in the classroom!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I can’t pretend working in FE is easy or constantly rewarding or that you always feel like you are ‘making a difference’ or ‘giving something back’ or any of that trite nonsense. However, you do get to work with some of the most interesting, surprising, challenging and, often, hilarious people you will ever meet – students. The politics (with a lower case ‘p’) within colleges is tedious, as I’m sure it is in any big organisations, and the responsibilities that go along with that of Educator grow by the day. But, for the majority of the time, spending time in the classroom, teaching young people is one of the most enjoyable professions I think there is. I’ve recently completed my Masters in Post-Compulsory Education and Training. Having the opportunity to study the sector in such an in-depth way and get to the heart of contemporary thinking on the nature of education was exciting and fulfilling and will, hopefully, develop further my ability to help my students learn.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXDg4Vi_zhVQ-5hGB1uu758Ex23pQDeAE4z2AxWqPahXooCpPvRAj-AA-ftWzd6vLvOFSPx__RbJdho7yo8kzAGkQEzhNuHiSOzs5cEliSinB2ef46soQa8tdlim3ncOcUdDxMl4TiMY/s1600/Aids+Awareness+Film005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXDg4Vi_zhVQ-5hGB1uu758Ex23pQDeAE4z2AxWqPahXooCpPvRAj-AA-ftWzd6vLvOFSPx__RbJdho7yo8kzAGkQEzhNuHiSOzs5cEliSinB2ef46soQa8tdlim3ncOcUdDxMl4TiMY/s200/Aids+Awareness+Film005.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Claire and Michael, who had<br />
their film about AIDS screened<br />
in the city centre: <a href="http://www.thetelegraphandargus.co.uk/news/local/localbrad/3940884.Film_on_Aids_is_premiered_on_city___s_big_screen/" target="_blank">link</a></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhToTLQZscrmNYz68onHFe1kGHzsi94whS5UDgz5HhDZM6JJoAj8B2GrFBojvKISAhT84YPGcumgHv3PTepPUADdQ-y_-9mqcRT11clbz99hzzVS2ZyyDwrMfHUYzeqR3JZq4gk6wItdJw/s1600/teachers_2102167b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhToTLQZscrmNYz68onHFe1kGHzsi94whS5UDgz5HhDZM6JJoAj8B2GrFBojvKISAhT84YPGcumgHv3PTepPUADdQ-y_-9mqcRT11clbz99hzzVS2ZyyDwrMfHUYzeqR3JZq4gk6wItdJw/s200/teachers_2102167b.jpg" width="200" /></a>However, there are big changes afoot in education and I, for one, can only see the proposed shifts as harmful and destructive to the great work done by teachers across the country. At every turn, the Education Minister, Michael Gove, seems keen to attack the <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/education/educationnews/9950934/Michael-Gove-attacks-his-critics-as-Marxist-opponents-of-improvements-to-schools.html">‘Marxist’ teachers</a> who he claims are ‘actively trying to prevent millions of our poorest children getting the education they need’ (of course, because Marxists hate poor people, don’t they Michael?) This man, who has no teaching experience of his own, has taken every opportunity to promote his new schemes for <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/teacher-network/teacher-blog/2013/jan/24/academy-school-system-heading-rocks">academy schools</a>, (schools that are run as private businesses) and attempted to enforce his own beliefs on the system as a whole (<a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2012/may/20/michael-gove-bible-school-david-mitchell">in 2012, a copy of the King James Bible</a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzzlQA0DiUdKq8yRuGBzZAapqq8pr1hlSGMvOwAdvEqk7MwqHwg7bx52eRS3vGyKRo13STDgugHmz2lTNHHK6-Xj4J-xic0tWoI-sCpUMDrdWVhDTSDGmRTW09CzncQNDWBu69pEqjk1c/s1600/9621_156004401007_1601855_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzzlQA0DiUdKq8yRuGBzZAapqq8pr1hlSGMvOwAdvEqk7MwqHwg7bx52eRS3vGyKRo13STDgugHmz2lTNHHK6-Xj4J-xic0tWoI-sCpUMDrdWVhDTSDGmRTW09CzncQNDWBu69pEqjk1c/s200/9621_156004401007_1601855_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A proud moment as Michael,<br />
Gemma, Eloise & Anna see their<br />
film about childhood screened at<br />
the Co-Op Young Filmmakers<br />
Festival.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
was sent to every school in the country with the words ‘presented by the secretary of state’ on the spine – in gold leaf). He is particularly vocal in re-enforcing his support for the new Chief Inspector for Schools, Sir Michael Wilshaw. Wilshaw, amongst other things, has caused much ire for comments dismissing the stress that teachers are currently under, whilst suicide rates within the profession have risen by 80% and the Health and Safety Executive have listed teaching as having the third highest amount of work related stress.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7bKFolOMi-HKL_ntQmfuAOqnieIWPmVFz-eIvhADqIJcnPwwoVjihcxvfNzJ8hWHE-FGBX3i_LiPREsYF8IkmUKncz3rKVJbaFtRsUfLOZoQ9_fxSTzUp8XCFf7P8SWZY1qHZX4M1j6A/s1600/GroupABBC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7bKFolOMi-HKL_ntQmfuAOqnieIWPmVFz-eIvhADqIJcnPwwoVjihcxvfNzJ8hWHE-FGBX3i_LiPREsYF8IkmUKncz3rKVJbaFtRsUfLOZoQ9_fxSTzUp8XCFf7P8SWZY1qHZX4M1j6A/s320/GroupABBC.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking a group of students on a tour of BBC TV Centre.</td></tr>
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In the new year, my team and I will be expected to teach exactly the same amount of content on the curriculum as we have this year, but the time we have with our students will be significantly reduced. Added to this are the new pressures bought about by the influx of learners who, due to the raising of the school leaving age, now have to stay in education until they are 17 (including the many who won’t want to) and the new requirement for all learners in colleges to pass their GCSE English and Maths qualifications within 2 years – even if they have failed to do so after over 5 years of intensive English and Maths lessons at school. Combined with the pressure of short notice inspections, the ever-present threats of redundancy, new contracts that can ask staff to work anywhere within a county or on weekends and evenings without consultation and the strain is beginning to cause some very strong, able teachers to buckle. I see dark times ahead for FE. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Q1HvAuG_Xs7IY_MN6eDIZZjwVPPTgPACRK1CCapOsBKJ0u6lcgbPiMiBYFviJV583lLAcutUrak2AHLTFPXzVEdIv4UEHH12Pb2DuVI0r2OF5x2xjYs-PtjhJpNK7kijSZwir4kAD8Y/s1600/AroundBBCTree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Q1HvAuG_Xs7IY_MN6eDIZZjwVPPTgPACRK1CCapOsBKJ0u6lcgbPiMiBYFviJV583lLAcutUrak2AHLTFPXzVEdIv4UEHH12Pb2DuVI0r2OF5x2xjYs-PtjhJpNK7kijSZwir4kAD8Y/s320/AroundBBCTree.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With students waiting to see a TV show being recorded</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The sad truth is that the current government has a clear agenda when it comes to education. They believe that the Victorian methods of learning by rote, assessing solely through examination and managing behaviour through fear and intimidation are the answers to achievement. Their attitude to Further Education is clearly one of dismissal and disinterest. This retrograde step is surely motivated by a desire to further strengthen the social system where the very ‘poorest children’ Gove claims to be protecting will <a href="http://www.morningstaronline.co.uk/news/content/view/full/131225" target="_blank">'know their place'</a>. They will stop trying to develop their intellect, their creativity and their potential and get back to their menial ranks. It is the only way to ensure millionaire Gove and the other members of the elite can keep knowledge, art and prosperity to themselves. But I suppose that sounds a bit Marxist, doesn’t it, Michael?<br />
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This video acts as a form of therapy for the modern teacher. </div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-91588032362742973042013-04-04T01:00:00.000+02:002013-04-04T10:43:00.670+02:00D is for David<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjis7a6et4fWTk2MatR1GtO7oIPA0hdaFN0y6SjY12elWlqz9CEWFX1Io4u2YJXKW3WKw94pYO5NIe1ryfvqSy8aDST8IY_pzASzrEvbfgCsq3OiWebBQvVLXstfpfqDHiVEnXSeh2W4JI/s1600/Gorgeous+David.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjis7a6et4fWTk2MatR1GtO7oIPA0hdaFN0y6SjY12elWlqz9CEWFX1Io4u2YJXKW3WKw94pYO5NIe1ryfvqSy8aDST8IY_pzASzrEvbfgCsq3OiWebBQvVLXstfpfqDHiVEnXSeh2W4JI/s320/Gorgeous+David.jpg" width="212" /></a><span lang="EN-US">This is <a href="http://davewrotethis.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">David</a>. He is my
boyfriend. He is brilliant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Let me elaborate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>10 (of the many) reasons David is brilliant.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>1. He likes cool stuff</b>. When
we first met, we learned really quickly that we both loved 90’s music, in
particular <a href="http://davewrotethis.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Pulp" target="_blank">Pulp</a> and <a href="http://insarahslife.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/b-is-for-blur.html" target="_blank">Blur</a>, but also that we both had an enthusiasm for cult TV,
cinema and graphic novels. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>2. He has introduced me to
new cool stuff</b>. David has shown me lots of new stuff that I’d not come across
before (or dismissed out of hand – which I do all too often). I’ve discovered
that I love Star Trek, the films of Wes Anderson, the books of Terry Pratchett
and the music of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0qlcXTjogJY" target="_blank">Eels</a> amongst many other things. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtB-HW9BnNdW_WDOEa54TVKslKzOhqc76qvbQwnvaqaQ6HEWFX33vrrZtAEJE7P8_lIheuCcqIZc7uh0PnkdmjAhaK89XUbeCueMC6A3T0Yaq2wK6liy-mHZB5LnLZg3GWuB-hVJ0NBbw/s1600/onstage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtB-HW9BnNdW_WDOEa54TVKslKzOhqc76qvbQwnvaqaQ6HEWFX33vrrZtAEJE7P8_lIheuCcqIZc7uh0PnkdmjAhaK89XUbeCueMC6A3T0Yaq2wK6liy-mHZB5LnLZg3GWuB-hVJ0NBbw/s320/onstage.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David on stage</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>3. He is an actor – how ace
is that? </b>I’m endlessly impressed with the way he can create a character,
whether for a part, or just to amuse me, and inhabit that person completely. It
is a tough industry but I’m always amazed by his dedication to his work and the
determination and focus he shows when working on a role. Check him out! <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kflxo6yTkgw" target="_blank">David's Showreel</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdivcTdLUlbsUjKYMZ5XOdVG7sl0-QqIyMLG3ymuTRtxhDUCDMBETIWFQhzcMw7sJM79QT2FV0U0iyqixHUJg4B5TWnZX0Sik1IZBciDg0e0kmcN6wsRblm-Ht2QoLttGBKa3OW5j7kA/s1600/rednoseday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdivcTdLUlbsUjKYMZ5XOdVG7sl0-QqIyMLG3ymuTRtxhDUCDMBETIWFQhzcMw7sJM79QT2FV0U0iyqixHUJg4B5TWnZX0Sik1IZBciDg0e0kmcN6wsRblm-Ht2QoLttGBKa3OW5j7kA/s200/rednoseday.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David and I, on Red Nose Day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>4. He is very funny. </b>He
does silly voices, plays with words, pulls quotes out of the bag at exactly the
right time, does impressions of people and pulls funny faces when I least
expect it. (He also laughs at my jokes. Even my silly walks and the dance I do
to the theme music of University Challenge.) We laugh a lot and, as that is my
favourite hobby, this is a Very Good Thing. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz2uoHTetP0xBoWA7ZBvcGPHeDhW1pVenhMfS8Fq0L25oEJHpSYfJf2wXREMkUpnaVS75VAbW8icHMwRYpjVvIDBO8cm9PCGYDE4FTFD-vHa3dS_s-Z8O0eApLLL9PSR-41yBM84dYBLU/s1600/glam+eccentric.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz2uoHTetP0xBoWA7ZBvcGPHeDhW1pVenhMfS8Fq0L25oEJHpSYfJf2wXREMkUpnaVS75VAbW8icHMwRYpjVvIDBO8cm9PCGYDE4FTFD-vHa3dS_s-Z8O0eApLLL9PSR-41yBM84dYBLU/s320/glam+eccentric.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At our friends, Brogan and Laura's Engagement Party<br />
last Saturday.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>5. He really cares about
things.</b> He cares about political causes, social injustices, environmental
issues, the poor, the neglected and the needy of our world. But he also cares
about the continuity errors in Star Trek and the need to put Doctor Who DVDs in
(broadcast) chronological order when on a shelf. This is great as these are
similar to the things I care about so it works well. He doesn’t care as much as
I do about choosing bed linen or the correct spacing between door panels on TARDIS
models, but this is probably for the best, as I do care about
these things more than enough for two people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8VcT2B1FnJ4xyIUTR97-GgzBNHhnQ2-Z16KsvkTNBRaFj687JnPCdd-FwQKVDjt56Q0dxu1doEz6C0sMz-uwOKqHjKx5rQGWvDjlUkTJVHLgJrMNvic0KcX8sgnsQLuhurq-HNPlQzyk/s1600/birthday+boy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8VcT2B1FnJ4xyIUTR97-GgzBNHhnQ2-Z16KsvkTNBRaFj687JnPCdd-FwQKVDjt56Q0dxu1doEz6C0sMz-uwOKqHjKx5rQGWvDjlUkTJVHLgJrMNvic0KcX8sgnsQLuhurq-HNPlQzyk/s320/birthday+boy.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At David's surprise 30th<br />
Birthday Party.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>6. He knows how to make people feel good</b>. Whether
it is distraught friends, upset work colleagues or the very easily distressed autistic student he works with at the moment, he cares about those
around him and goes out of his way to make them feel better. He has a knack for
knowing just what the situation calls for and can act on it. He always knows
just how to cheer me up when I feel sad and boost my confidence when I am
unsure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmTSDq7ettl4qHVyVPWCOOvEGESNKQxDH4JhHOhvlM03-VZrh8oHZYw9abA_Ext_4RRprqWmLngzx8yRKbUjcd2do5ipadVv5YmMre7r32fvQwaB1mcH95jMBR6mrAOvJW0M3eivJvhU/s1600/cassandra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmTSDq7ettl4qHVyVPWCOOvEGESNKQxDH4JhHOhvlM03-VZrh8oHZYw9abA_Ext_4RRprqWmLngzx8yRKbUjcd2do5ipadVv5YmMre7r32fvQwaB1mcH95jMBR6mrAOvJW0M3eivJvhU/s200/cassandra.jpg" width="132" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David with Cassandra, the<br />
mannequin rescued from<br />
the bins.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span lang="EN-US"><b>7. He is a great listener</b>.
Which is useful as I am a big talker. He sits patiently whilst I reel off the
traumas, tantrums and triumphs of my day and can always gives me sound,
considered advice. He always has my back but can also very gently tell me when
I might be being a bit of a dick about something. This is very useful as I do
tend towards dickishness at times.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUEdseuznOR1DYlyqgVweq0miEsTryapQ0yscmrAVRrsV6AGNyZpLv_Lav4-FarQ7iS1TH7yBP_QwUpeqx10jloVJcfynDDLduPTUfqzs6jHC7QgS_fu49ZD2LM21ZPvgCdNkr7UqQZl8/s1600/cookie+monster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUEdseuznOR1DYlyqgVweq0miEsTryapQ0yscmrAVRrsV6AGNyZpLv_Lav4-FarQ7iS1TH7yBP_QwUpeqx10jloVJcfynDDLduPTUfqzs6jHC7QgS_fu49ZD2LM21ZPvgCdNkr7UqQZl8/s320/cookie+monster.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bravely sampling one of my accidentally<br />
massive home-made cookies.</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US"><b>8. He finds beauty in the
most unexpected of things.</b> Whether it is a six-foot chrome mannequin rescued
from the dump or the Lego pirate ship found in his parents’ loft, he really
does find the joy in the discarded or unwanted. It is a very endearing
trait. He finds beauty in me too – which I, for one, certainly found unexpected.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>9. He is an experimental
fusion chef. </b>He once confused pesto with Thai green curry paste and
inadvertently created the <a href="http://davewrotethis.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/o-is-fororiginal-recipes.html" target="_blank">spiciest pizza I’ve ever eaten</a>. Whilst he may not be
a natural cook, genuinely, he always goes out of his way to be helpful, is
willing to be a guinea pig to some of my more experimental cookery and makes
the best cup of tea going. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><b>10. He is gorgeous. </b>Well –
just look at him! <span style="font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTp3poCIsdPLqH_NfhoxeDSo7p2q4pLyfbo7urtpyBdihdoG5Yti2myIX1rO7TzHCoDf9xH_CEdjTtecKMUGcmtVoIpoSAuUWwADJ9ZmeaIEqrIxq5WhVaCMta-mQK_tfzSuV6zPzXsII/s1600/wedding+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTp3poCIsdPLqH_NfhoxeDSo7p2q4pLyfbo7urtpyBdihdoG5Yti2myIX1rO7TzHCoDf9xH_CEdjTtecKMUGcmtVoIpoSAuUWwADJ9ZmeaIEqrIxq5WhVaCMta-mQK_tfzSuV6zPzXsII/s400/wedding+.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4731801212490584524.post-61378006234563635512013-04-03T01:00:00.000+02:002013-04-03T01:00:04.840+02:00C is for Caitlin Moran<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<a href="http://cdn.theatlanticwire.com/img/upload/2012/07/16/HowToBeWoman%20pb%20c.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://cdn.theatlanticwire.com/img/upload/2012/07/16/HowToBeWoman%20pb%20c.JPG" width="213" /></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">“<i>What is
feminism? Simply the belief that women should be as free as men, however nuts,
dim, deluded, badly dressed, fat, receding, lazy and smug they might be. Are
you a feminist? Hahaha. Of course you are.</i>” </span><span lang="EN-US"> </span><br />
<i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">How
to be a Woman</span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">,
Caitlin Moran's 2011 book, quickly became one of my favourite books of all
time. Moran's take on modern-day feminism and her quirky and hilarious writing
style had me gripped from the first page and I loved it.</span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">I had
always considered myself ‘a feminist’ but in recent times I had lost focus of
just what that term meant. It took
reading this book at the grand old age of 32 for me to clarify precisely what
it meant. Well, what it meant for me, at least. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">Having been
raised by liberal parents who were very keen to instill in me a sense of
equality no matter who a person was, I had grown up with a strong sense of what
feminism meant. Mum had her own career and a string of commitments and
interests above and beyond that of homemaker and I had always been encouraged
to believe that I could become anything I wished to. </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">I was lucky enough to be surrounded
by strong female role models. I had 4 ‘proper’ aunties (and a string of adopted
ones), all independent and brilliant in their own right. I had fearless,
adventurous Brownie and Guide leaders and inspirational schoolteachers who
developed my interest in art, drama, literature and science. Alongside this, I
knew women of all ages who were running hostels for homeless women, becoming
missionaries, being ballerinas, being painters and doing other amazing,
life-changing things all around me. School gave me a sound understanding of the
history of feminism and I soon came to appreciate the very real sacrifices
others had made for me, as a girl of the 80’s and a young woman of the 90’s.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br />
<a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lyez7uw5r01r29jt9o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lyez7uw5r01r29jt9o1_1280.jpg" width="110" /></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">In practice,
however, as I moved on to independence and out of home, it became less clear as
to what the feminist movement in the 2000’s actually was and precisely where I
fitted within it. I read <i>The Female Eunuch</i>
and it spoke to me in many ways, but it did seem a product of its time rather
than something written for me. In a post-Spice Girls ‘girl-power’ world,
feminism was somewhat lost. The old jokes about ‘man-hating lesbians in
sensible shoes’ still held strong, but now a new generation of girls believed
that adopting one of the pre-formed moulds provided by five pop puppets was the
key to gender equality. Although I appreciated that this clearly wasn’t the
answer, I found myself struggling to define what feminism really was and how it
applied to my life. I found myself asking ‘Am I really a feminist?’ I didn’t
hate men – I thought many of them were brilliant! Wearing pretty frocks and
make-up when I wanted to made me feel good – was I betraying the sisterhood? What
exactly was the sisterhood, anyway? Many of the most destructive and hurtful
relationships I had experienced in my childhood had been with young female
friends – where was the comradeship there?</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">In time I
developed my own, quiet, subtle form of what I thought of as feminism. I didn’t
give it a capital F, I didn’t scream it from the picket lines. But I worked. I
worked hard to earn the qualifications I needed to stand toe-to-toe with male
counterparts in a competitive industry. I deliberately pushed myself to take on
difficult jobs such as managing a band and having to argue for money at the end
of the night with half-cut landlords. I took a lot of shit from certain men and
it took a while to really find my voice again after this, but, eventually, I
found true independence and the ability to decide what I wanted to do and how I
wanted to do it. But was I a <b>F</b>eminist? I still didn’t know.</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"> </span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">It turns
out I wasn’t alone. Caitlin Moran has one quick answer for all women out there
wondering the same thing:</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">“So here is
the quick way of working out if you're a feminist. </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">Put your hand in your pants.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">a) Do you
have a vagina? and</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">b) Do you
want to be in charge of it?</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">If you said
'yes' to both, then congratulations! You're a feminist.”</span><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"> </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lqhvpovq5H1qbb5tzo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lqhvpovq5H1qbb5tzo1_500.jpg" width="176" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #131313; font-size: xx-small; text-align: -webkit-auto;">I’d like to add that you don’t need a <br />vagina to be a feminist, as demonstrated </span><br />
<span style="color: #131313; font-size: xx-small; text-align: -webkit-auto;">excellently </span><span style="color: #131313; font-size: x-small;">by Mr. Bill Bailey, here.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span><br />
<span style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">Moran
manages to apply the core feminist message to modern life and in doing so,
highlight how important it remains to modern women. Her witty, considered and
sometimes moving commentary covers a range of issues, from pubic hair to the
abortion debate, via the importance of public libraries. Her discussion of the nicknames given to female genitalia along with the matter-of-fact, even flippant, discussions of issues surrounding motherhood are refreshing and thought-provoking and, perhaps most importantly, accessible.</span><br />
<span style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">She isn’t popular with
some and, as seems so common amongst any group who have self-applied a label,
many within <b>F</b>eminism have decided she isn’t saying the ‘right’ things or that
she is watering down a potent political message. However, Moran makes the point
that you don’t need an MA in Gender Studies to understand the importance of
feminism – and I can’t help but think that this may bite for those who’ve
dedicated their life to precisely this. There seems to be endless debates around
what someone calling themselves a Feminist should stand for and the
middle-class educated elite often appear to be shouting loudest about this.</span><br />
<span style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">It seems
sad to me that a movement based on securing freedom of choice for women seems
determined to then set a very rigid code of what they should care about,
comment on and believe. I may not necessarily agree with everything Moran says,
but I will defend to the death her right to say and do what she wishes as that,
surely, is at the point at the very heart of the movement.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;">Feminism has always been relevant. It has always been important. Maybe now, thanks to people like Moran and sites like <a href="http://jezebel.com/5993082/danny-boyle-would-like-to-see-women-get-better-movie-roles-please?tag=movies" target="_blank">Jezabel </a>and <a href="http://vagendamag.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">The Vagenda</a> more young women will come to investigate what may have seemed like such a distant and inaccessible movement and realise that feminism has something vital and useful to offer them too. </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #131313; font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<a href="http://backseatmafia.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/blur-modern-life-is-rubbish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://backseatmafia.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/blur-modern-life-is-rubbish.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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The year is 1994 and I am sat in my friend Tracey’s living
room, in full on grunge-era floral skirt and Doc Martens combo waiting for a Red Dwarf repeat to come on. Suddenly, from Tracey’s cool
older brother’s room I hear a sound I’d never heard before and I fall in love.
Not with Tracey’s brother, I hasten to add, but with the swirling guitar sound and falsetto backing vocals of
<a href="http://youtu.be/xF1ANx89dEI?t=14m52s" target="_blank"><i>Star Shaped</i></a>, from Blur's 1993 album <i>Modern Life is Rubbish</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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From that moment on, I was hooked. My illicit tape copy of
<i>Modern Life is Rubbish </i>soon became a shiny CD copy with my Christmas money. It became the soundtrack of my 15 year old life, along with morsels of Suede's <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0SuX1IvJys" target="_blank">Dog Man Star</a> </i>and <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dr39zrViwRI" target="_blank">The Sisters EP</a></i> by Pulp. The release of <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WDswiT87oo8" target="_blank">Girls and Boys</a>,</i> and later their third album <i>Parklife,</i> bought Blur to the attention of the masses and accompanied much of my GCSE revision. The 15 year-old me was always quite obnoxiously keen to point out how much I'd loved them before they had hit the Top 10. Secretly, however, I was thrilled to see one of my favourites gather music awards and accolades and their saturation of the music channels when singles were released was a boon for a obsessive like me. I loved every track but my favourite was definitely <i>To The End</i> - I remember thinking it impossibly romantic and tragic!<br />
<br /></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/0DjHKqb365A?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrx5IwwFkKcUrD1EAlkwb9Cd9ne-uJLIhT2ZcAPbx4VbqrM8mumRS3MZize8yxoxlghv9v38GrEMOOb1sDPAo_eEJBbI0QwEKviCNosYmXciy6rXo9TNU7QJY7QdP6a2qYJFHD1GurS8/s1600/cover1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrx5IwwFkKcUrD1EAlkwb9Cd9ne-uJLIhT2ZcAPbx4VbqrM8mumRS3MZize8yxoxlghv9v38GrEMOOb1sDPAo_eEJBbI0QwEKviCNosYmXciy6rXo9TNU7QJY7QdP6a2qYJFHD1GurS8/s200/cover1.jpg" width="145" /></a></div>
My copies of the <a href="http://archivedmusicpress.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/blur-on-the-cover-of-nme-17th-june-1995-low-res.jpg" target="_blank">NME</a> and <a href="http://selectmagazinescans.monkeon.co.uk/showpage.php?file=wp-content/uploads/2012/11/blur1.jpg" target="_blank">Select Magazine</a> featuring 'the boys from Essex' were essential reading as I progressed from secondary school form-room gatherings to college canteens debates. I remember sitting with my friend Jo, carefully planning how much of our dinner money we had to save each day in order to be able to afford a forthcoming Blur special edition of Select on its day of publication.<br />
<br />
Indeed, Jo (far left) and I chose to immortalise our love of the band in 1995, in our choice of outfits when appearing on MTV in the audience for my favourite TV show at the time, <i>Most Wanted with Ray Cokes </i>(below). </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbjYl2jKqd8st_tpaUnVzmj0OmomZtDhAE7aiz718Fy2h9qcIerWW5usg2XtUXKO4OxPryJJpJgroNFLIbr98xmZfGECkncg16TAJcBVA5Q1i6K3YbOZwtaZeC4EXS0TDC3-4ReQJ26bA/s1600/298_26472536007_1312_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbjYl2jKqd8st_tpaUnVzmj0OmomZtDhAE7aiz718Fy2h9qcIerWW5usg2XtUXKO4OxPryJJpJgroNFLIbr98xmZfGECkncg16TAJcBVA5Q1i6K3YbOZwtaZeC4EXS0TDC3-4ReQJ26bA/s320/298_26472536007_1312_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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In November '95, my Dad drove my friends and I to Sheffield Arena to see the band play live. I was almost speechless with excitement about it all and I was completely unable to sleep the night before. I wasn't impressed with the support act - <i>The Britpops Orchestra</i> - who played orchestral versions of Blur hits, but even this didn't dull my enthusiasm. Seeing the band play all my favourite tracks and singing my heart out amongst hundreds of other fans was overwhelmingly exciting. I remember hugging equally enthralled fans from all over the country in the stands and crying at the end. I also made the rookie mistake of buying a knock-off t-shirt outside the venue which, unsurprisingly, didn't make it through one wash at home before it fell apart.</div>
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<br />
<i>The Great Escape</i>, released in the height of Blur's popularity initially didn't seem to make the same impression on me as their previous albums. In more recent times the majesty of <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BrbxWOMpwfs" target="_blank">The Universal</a></i> and the ironic, Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band-like nature of <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpQvTvMHpsM" target="_blank">Ernold Same</a></i> have ensured they became iPod favourites but, at the time, I wasn't blown away.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, by the time that the self-titled <i>Blur </i>was released in 1997 I had started University and become a pretentious bore, putting aside such fun to develop my understanding of blues and folk music.<br />
The later albums <i>13</i> and <i>Think Tank</i> passed by without me even noticing. In retrospect, I missed out. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSUcW0ldRU25LjKtlbJfxtey58b90Bb75j0q6dRZJ2o6hcucsjvFs2Tpr6NieXsC5_XQQd39GqRUr8JRqncFC9rAsovSiMUGmDdKTHPmxASc5f2i4lKe4igTKv80Cr_Yrccbri8dDdSk/s1600/Milk+Cartons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSUcW0ldRU25LjKtlbJfxtey58b90Bb75j0q6dRZJ2o6hcucsjvFs2Tpr6NieXsC5_XQQd39GqRUr8JRqncFC9rAsovSiMUGmDdKTHPmxASc5f2i4lKe4igTKv80Cr_Yrccbri8dDdSk/s320/Milk+Cartons.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David made me these replicas of the milk cartons<br />
from the <i>Coffee & TV</i> music video and gave them to<br />
me as Christmas presents.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Meeting David in 2010 and finding out he was a massive Blur fan too (amongst other things) was fantastic. He sent me <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qJ7nAux8LIM" target="_blank">Look Inside America</a></i> on a mix CD and it made me go back and re-evaluate the 'missed albums' somewhat. Whilst they might not be solid gold, some of what I now count as my all time favourite Blur tracks are on them including <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6oqXVx3sBOk" target="_blank">Coffee and TV</a></i>, <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SaHrqKKFnSA" target="_blank">Tender</a>,</i> <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dgA_DlR8WsM" target="_blank">No Distance Left To Run</a></i> and <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WAXnqjUfal4" target="_blank">Beetlebum</a>.</i> </div>
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I was heartbroken to have missed another chance to see Blur live when they played a select handful of reunion gigs in 2009. Watching their headline performance at Glastonbury that year on TV just rubbed salt in to the wound of not getting tickets, but I live in hope that there will be more gigs announced at some time. If they do, I'll be there for sure.</div>
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<a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/migration_catalog/article5229751.ece/ALTERNATES/w380h170/v2-blur+glastonbury.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="http://www.independent.co.uk/migration_catalog/article5229751.ece/ALTERNATES/w380h170/v2-blur+glastonbury.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<!--EndFragment-->Sarah Williamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06001091168069036605noreply@blogger.com8