the heretic genetic algorithm

I will do plans rather than resolutions once I've got over the next few weeks of psychotropic abstinence :)

I'm not doing the meme as I don't want to analyse last year any more or caricaturise myself by the events that happened. In short:

I'm thinner (because I enjoyed exercise and got to grips with running)
I'm richer (because my gardening business took off and I got a new job)
I'm happier (because I have ace friends (notably K,J,C,M and Dai!) and because I got to grips with motherhood)

I got married twice. I lost two people very close to me, one of which is going to reverberate and ramify for quite a while, I think.

Related to that last one, in the past week or two I've come to the stunning, well crystallised and very liberating conclusion that I would not have swapped my parents for any other ones in the entire 4-dimensional existence of the planet. So whatever faults they had, and whatever I would have changed about their lives, are both utterly irrelevant.

My mumma passed away at some point last night. It was sudden, and we won't know why until the post mortem reports. Comments aren't really necessary - I know you care :) - but will be away from various online places for a time while I regroup and deal with all sorts of stuff, practical and emotional. With love to all of you, and hold those you love a little closer for me and for the memory of Claire Wood, 1952-2009 x

Been on a break from running, in that I haven't run since Thursday, and I won't be running until tomorrow. I've been really enjoying it recently; sort of achieved a new plateau in fitness (well, a mini plateau for the rest of the world, but a definite improvement for me) and happily starting to embrace some of the ideas around meditational running and Chi Running. I actually think I was mostly there anyway, but validation is aways nice.

In short, there was nothing wrong and everything right about running. Which in my philosophy book is the perfect time to take a break, do some yoga and let my knees and ankles take a well-earned break. Even though I miss the endorphins :(

Anyway, while not-running, I realised how much I missed yoga. I also took several warm baths and went to Minehead for the first time ever, which was really a far better experience than I would ever have predicted. The child was, however, a bit of a pest, so the mission to take him away on my own has been aborted. Sometimes you just need to be gentle with yourself :)

Seriously, I am feeling knackered at the moment. Nausea, exhaustion, and now bleeding nose. Bah. Not actually sure what to d about it, except just wait it out.

This week has been a lot about gardening.I set up the blog on my business site and actually have some plans to use it. Probably next week, when the husband is away - right now I mostly want to make the most of this week. Plus, did I mention being knackered already? I'll use it to blog on my own gardening, gardening employment, garden visits and so on. I'll probably do a feed to my journal.

Everything is up in the air timing wise right now, which is adding to my fuzzly head feeling. One important plus is that Ticketmaster managed to process the upgrade for my Global Gathering tickets without cocking up, which I felt would never happen. I treated myself and my bro to VIP upgrades, partly for the better camping, partly to cheer the fucker up as he seems to be long term unemployed now. Apparently he isn't tough enough to be a builder, which is a bit of a kick in the teeth for him really.

We also went up Pen Y Fan to cheer him up. We got soaked, but much fun was had by all.

Employment wise, all is well. More than well, really. I did a day picking bindweed out of QCL's hedges, an afternoon at the stroke rehab greenhouse (really enjoying that) and I'm actually making plenty of money and doing well at it. The strange thing is, the local council phoned me up to offer me the job they didn't give me back at the start of the year. Bent over backwards to make it appealing.

Utterly torn 50:50 on that one. Strangeness galore.

Well, lots has happened, and it should be updated about.

First of all, our wedding was fab. It was surrounded by stress and woe, but once we got down to Huntstile Farm on the Friday, I felt I could put that stuff aside and get on with it for 24 hours. I decorated the marquee myself - lots of spring flowers, a general butterfly theme, and tables named after GFs from Final Fantasy 8. Absolutely perfect. Making a table plan is harder than you think, especially when you want to keep your inlaws away from your bitchy family members, but it worked ok. And I even managed to get some sleep Friday night :)

Saturday morning was more of the busy, then around lunchtime I went to get ready, with help from the able Ninneviane. Although, to be fair to my own abilities, I have got the hang of make-up now. The photos actually do a reasonable job of making me look somewhere between presentable and reasonably attractive (:P) which is really where a gaming-girl-geek should aim for her wedding day.

The ceremony was fab and everything we could have wished for - the druids did a great job of making something meaningful, an having the whle of the Somerset Levels spread in front of you as you make your vows has to be inspiring. Lots of wonderful people came, I made a speech, we ate and drank to our hearts' content and partied late courtesy of the Jellied Reels. T be honest, I could say so much more, but it's a strangely personal event that I'd have to dwell on a long while before I regurgitated in any meaningful fashion, so that it the that about it, really.

The honeymoon was also good, despite having to break for 0ct0pus' grandma's funeral. It was a wedding sandwiched in death, which made it kind of bizarre. Although wonderful, I still feel a layer of detachment from it and a certain residual stress at the huge conflict of emotions around the whole thing. It was great to meet some more in-laws. Glen Coe moved me deeply. And then we spent a week parked up in a beautiful campsite near Arisaig. Ten steps from the beach of silvery sands cupping shallow blue lagoons. Cuckoos and boat trips to Muck (with an orca) and lovely walks. Gazing at the gentle breathing of the water in and out of the estuary next to the van. We will most definitely go back.

Two down points. A first mild one in the most boring hitcher known to man. Either don't say anything, or earn your keep with interesting tales, will ya? And the second much more serious in that the brakes locked (or something - I'm still unclear) on the M6 on the way back and someone rear-ended us. Which could have been a lot worse (we were in a roadworks zone doing 50) but still has shaken me and put me right off camper vans for life.

Time since we got back has been spent going to my own grandparent funeral, and trying to integrate back into real life. Like I said, the strain of so much going on in such a short space of time has left me uncharacteristically knackered, but given that I've not stopped in four or five years, this is probably a god thing and only to be expected. I've been working on my garden a lot, and slowly getting back to my gardening jobs. I've volunteered for an artistic collaboration with a total stranger just to push the boundaries, but other than that I will be taking it rather easy for the summer.

so many things going on, it's hard to know what I'm thinking right now, especially factoring in some sleep deprivation.

The sleep deprivation is from two bits of stress. The first is my grandad. He's recovering well from his stroke as far as mobility goes with sensation and movement returning to his leg and particularly to his left hand fingers. This is great. What's not great is that he has a chest infection and is rapidly losing weight due to oral thrush, general anorexia and lack of help. I'm not NHS-bashing - the NHS is great - but with one staff nurse on a ward of about 30 high-need patients, things aren't getting done. Like eating. Or people noticing lack of eating. It sucks. I don't want to see my grandad waste away because nobody considered the fact that it's quite hard to eat a normal meal with only one hand.

And then I think that maybe he just doesn't want to eat. Sure, he seems happy, but he's 92 and his chances of walking or even returning to his own beloved flat any time soon are small. He's lost a son and a wife in the past 7 years, and even though he loves the rest of us, he is pragmatic to the point of gloomy about the point of life. He has a chance of being moved to a smaller cheerier ward back in Stroud, but the catch-22 is that his eating and mobility problems have to have stablised first.

We'll see what happens.

The second low-level stress is my brother deciding that now is a good time to split with his girlfriend. His stated reason is that it's because everyone has told him the relationship is a bad idea. I doubt that, really - extrapolating from my own experiences, he moans a lot about how he doesn't like her, they both argue openly about how bored and incompatible they are, and people generally mildly agree that they don't seem to have a lot in common but each to their own etc. Reading between the lines (and I'm aware I'm giving him no credit at all) he's met someone else and fancies testing the water while GF has been banished for a couple of weeks "thinking time".

Again, we'll see what happens.

Things are moving more positively in my head and in my legs. I've been documenting my reluctance to let go of the idea of a "proper job". I'm now welcoming the gifted opportunity to attempt self-employment, appreciating the fact that it's taking off while simultaneously fitting around my need to provide a good level of mummy-ness for my child. This is actually perfect, and I have to give myself permission to enjoy it. If all else fails, I'll go back to my old job without losing pay and having gained a lovely son :) What's the problem there, except in my head? In a couple of years I can work for the NT or for some private estate, maybe go back to college. Whatever I want, really. I'm also doing an afternoon a week voluntary work - half teaching gardening to inner city kids (whice may eventually become paid work) and half doing horticultural therapy with stroke victims. I enjoy them both and they're moving me out of my comfort zone too.

My own garden is leaping forward.Ｉ have a new lawn, which I'm avidly watering, and 200 freebie plants to fill the gaps left by the old greenhouse. Maybe after the weekend I'll post pics. It's going to be lovely, and I'm super proud of myself.

I'm also pleased with my running. Giving up my increasing number of "occasional" cigarettes has cleared my lungs and I'm rapidly banking the benefits. One of the trainers at the gym has given me a new treadmill program for indoor days which is stretching but achievable, and I'll feel good when I can do it and move it up again.

This has been a week of physical work - Wyevale Monday, gardening job Tuesday, breaking and moving about a ton of concrete these last two days. Moving about half a ton of earth into the space. This is all a good thing - I've space to plant climbers to train along the fence and lay a lawn. But I am all of fucking knackered right now.

Weird evening. Lots of driving in the fog, then took bambino to the ChristKindl evening in Nailsworth. Moving a ton of garden materials this week was possibly foolish, but going back to my old house and parents' shop was definitely a risky gamble. It felt a bit like having a large steel toed boot ground into my stomach cavity. But I'm glad I did it. I feel a horrible sense of loss regarding my childhood - everything is gone now. Ripped, torn, burned and gone. But visiting the site of the carnage was kind of therapeutic. It was smaller than I remembered.

I am looking forward to next year in the garden.

Thank god, really. My last day in the office for my "old job contract". Actually, it's not all been bad. It's made me remember what I didn't like about the place, and how glad I am not to be returning. But it also gave me a twinge of nostalgia, and a reminder that this is somewhere where, although I might not have excelled, I certainly succeeded (both socially and workwise), often against all the odds.

The worst thing about it has been missing the sprog. I've been pounding 3-day weeks for a while (oh, the pain!) and I feel like the world's worst mother. God knows how people deal with a full working week, and thank the deities that I never got myself into that financial position. The sprog is making more and more forays into the world of walking, and I will be glad to get back to spending more time with him. I have Monday and Tuesday with some (nicer) commitments, then back to just one day a week for November.

The pain was made worse by scheduling a load of stuff over this fortnight to just try and cram the pain into one short stretch. I went on a drystone walling course with my brother, which rocked. I even enjoyed his company for a bit, when he wasn't bossing me about. He's learning to drive at the moment, which obviously qualifies him to give a running critique on my driving abilities from the point of view of what he doesn't realise is the callow learner.

In other work news, I was super-brave and screwed up my courage to go and talk to the local garden centre about jobs. Which paid dividends, as they seemed quite keen. I think I need to move fast on my gardening career, so that I can screw it up and bin it if it's not worked out in a couple of years.

The upside of this job is I'm nearly caught up on LJ. I'm aware I still have to do a meme-post on my childhood, but it would be a big document. Maybe I'll get time to do it on my NEW EEE-PC! Ahem ;)

Two hours of tedious christening do with my mum's family. Gads. Sometimes I can see why my mum started drinking.

In other news, I can recycle my tetrapaks and dead toaster at the local tip.

Really I'm just going to have to give up on making sensible coherent posts. Or anything orderly at all. I'll probably make a habit of just posting a stream of bibble a day - that way, it'll all get down on v-paper eventually. I could use the idea to keep track of my little goal/reward system. Having decided to stay at home for another 4 months, I'm horribly skint. I also have lots of bad habits and spend an unholy sum on plants and seeds. Therefore I'll save my Avon money, together with small cash bribes for each "good" day, and justify my green addiction like that.

Yaaaaarg.

We went to see Bill Bailey, which was brilliant.

malcygoff came to tea last night, which was also brilliant. We've missed him, and it was lovely to catch up.

Talking of catching up, we're having an open-house afternoon on New Year's Eve. I like to hide for the event itself, but you're all cordially invited to come over some time before 5 and have some drinks and nibbles. Maybe play Wii. We got Mario Galaxy, which is a lovely game, plus I traded in all my ex's old PS2 tat for Zelda in the Wii version.

Ben's had a stinky cold. Having a baby with a cold is a fresh hell, but he's better now.

I've noticed I have no sensible gauge of what is a reasonable favour to ask people. This leads to stress and worry. I blame my parents.

Squeak if you fancy coming over for the aforementioned munchies.

*boing*