Un-Themely Behaviour

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Ok, so I’m a little late posting about Friday’s assignment (“Love Your Theme”), but this smug student tried out several themes last Sunday.

I had reduced a long list of eleven down to two, and opted for the Hemingway Rewritten theme. Clean, tidy and with my preferred size of font (although I know that there ways of changing this).

I didn’t want to get over concerned about colours. A suggested palette which can take minor tweaks will do. The exception being my  “About Me” page, which I have opted to change colours of key words. I found the following link useful for coding colours:

http://www.w3schools.com/tags/ref_colorpicker.asp

I so very nearly moved to Twenty Eleven this morning. Purely because I could move the side bar to the left, Crikey! I could lose days of my life playing here, so enough. Hemingway Rewritten it is.

More later

Min6

Dear Sweet Impossible You

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WP_20140319_16_06_12_Pro

 

Dear Dream Reader, my sweet impossible you.

 

You cannot exist. Or can you?

 

You are the person in the office who knows that this blog is mine, but you don’t mention that to me because you know that I would prefer that it remains anonymous. You never change your manner towards me if I write about a contentious matter or if I launch an blog-attack on a workmate.

 

You are the person in the café that I do not have time to visit on my way to work. You blog too, and we pass each other knowing smiles as we huddle over our notebooks and cappuccino.

 

You have walked along the same beach as the one in “day 6 on the island” https://minor6th.wordpress.com/2014/09/26/on-the-island-day-6-toll-to-toll/. You already knew that the arrangement of pebbles was called a berm.

 

You have the same sense of humour as me and you laugh at my references to cows and broccoli.

 

You sometimes reply to my posts, and frequently like them.

 

I read your blog and I am in awe of your inner strength.

 

You don’t mind that I am not given to writing long posts. You too appreciate that sometimes there isn’t much so say. Sometimes a picture will do. And if I haven’t written for several weeks, you are still out there, waiting.

 

You are my father. Long gone but never forgotten. Stolen from this world before the technology that you loved so much really became interesting. How you would have loved the gadgets available to us now. How much fun we could have had together.

 

Stay with me …

 

… until the next time we meet.

MinG

xx

Tag! You’re it!

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Blogging 101, Assignment 2, Title and Tag Line

I have to admit that I read today’s assignment with some relief and satisfaction because, like the smug kid in class that I was, I’d done my homework and read the next chapter just in case.

I’m not saying that my title and tag are perfect, but they represent me.

Music is very important to me, and the minor 6th can be a chord or interval. It is bittersweet. Bitter because of the minor element. Sad songs are usually written in a minor key, unless the composer is really trying to fool you or themselves.

The 6th lifts it and pulls it towards the major.

Most importantly, if you turn a minor 6th upside down, you get a major third. The basis of sweet happy harmonies.

I also like the alternative name of Min or Min6, the latter being a bit like Ming. But merciless or merciful? It all depends how I am feeling.

I will muse today about how to expand the tagline. I like its brevity, but does that close the door rather than asking you to open it?

 

More later

Min6

 

Why Am I Here? To Find Out?

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Blogging 101, Assignment 1, Introduction

What I’m looking for here is, ironically, difficult to put into words.

Hello, I’m Min and I have a problem. How to introduce myself.

In conventional terms I am a late forties, semi professional married woman. I have a cat (no children). I like the usual things:

  • music (fairly eclectic tastes, recently listening to Sibelius, Foo Fighters, Bjork, Brian Eno and 80s pop);
  • food (especially fish at the moment);
  • gardening (or so  tell myself, but the garden is currently a state, and I don’t mean Kansas);
  • geocaching (especially in spring and autumn);
  • wine (enough said).

Why am I here and doing this?

I guess primarily to express myself in a manner that someone, anyone, might enjoy or at least relate to. It’s definitely a form of therapy, and I expect that I will be ranting a few times.

It will give me an opportunity to express what the rules of society do not permit me to say to someone’s face.

But there will be joy and photos and silly stuff too. My life’s semi-rich tapestry hung up for all to see. And because nobody out there really know me. I don’t have to face you in the office tomorrow and explain my bad behaviour.

And I just want to leave something that I have created “out there”. I used to be in a band who mainly did covers, but we experimented and started to write our own stuff. This is where we fell apart. I didn’t like the sugar sweet input of some of the others and they found my stuff too bleak. It might sound arrogant, but I just believe my own work was better. So perhaps some lyrics will feature.

What topics will I cover? No restrictions. but probably mostly from the list of likes above.

And I hope that being here will introduce me to like minded individuals. There seem to be precious few about in my day to day existence (apart from my much beloved).

Anyway, I’ve been rambling, you’ve been kind enough to “listen”, and if I don’t stop now I’ll make myself late for work.

More later

MinG

blogging101 : A new beginning?

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Have signed up for blogging101 and I am currently waiting for the first assignment.

 Looking at some of the other participants entries, I felt admiration, welcomed, kinship and relief that there are many out there who, like me, are looking for inspiration and guidance to get re-started.

I have to confess that I feel a mixture of excitement and resignation. What new tricks will I learn? Will I manage to fit it into my day? What on earth do I have to say that anyone else would want to read?

One thing I do know, it’s time to revisit my theme. So it’s time for a little background research – deliberate pun there, sorry!

More later.

MinG

On The Island, Day 6. Toll to Toll

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After a slow start, we head out to the far tip of the island. To another magical place. Where the waves lap or crash and a bell tolls every sixty seconds.

On the way there is an old priory. We step inside, relish the cool dark space, and talk about the banners, candles and our previous visit.

Outside, we attempt to find our way to a geocache, but cannot get near to its location due to a locked gate. There probably is another route, but himself is nervous about walking too far. So we head back to the car, and, having paid the toll, head along the lane which leads to what I think of as the end of the island.

Penmon

It’s busier here than on our previous visit. Admittedly that was on a frosty February in 2008, but the sky looks the same. Although there are several cars and holidaymakers about, it is still relatively quiet. Perhaps in reverence to the tolling bell from the lighthouse, disconcerting at first, then comforting. Perhaps also because apart from the pebble beach (featuring a berm), the lighthouse and a small café, there is nothing obvious to do here. It seems to draw what we would call like-minded people. You can sit and watch the boats and yachts go by, and just listen.

Toll, sea, gull, toll.

The Berm

The Berm

I found out later that many of the visitors were at the café, with its tables at the rear. A pleasant little establishment, serving the biggest cream teas I had ever seen. I settled for an ice-cream.

Later on I leave himself to bag a quick cache on the nearby coastal walk. Success, and I didn’t mind the nettle sting. Pesky little thing, hiding in the bracken. It is odd caching alone though.

We headed back to base via Bull Bay. Which is, as expected, still lovely. I burn my ears whilst sat with my back to the sun (the disadvantage of the recent haircut). Left for love mainly, but plenty of witch-hazel will be administered later.

Back at the cottage, I am warming to the lights. But it does mean that I have to keep moving.

I like a good dance around the kitchen, don’t you?

Min6

On The Island, Day 5. We Were Giants

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Today we were giants as we returned to something that we have both enjoyed as young children, a model village. Not villiage as I wrote on a postcard.

Said village is also on the island, and offers a minature view of many of its landmarks.

Beaumaris Castle was impressive.

A Giants View Of The Castle

A Giants View Of The Castle

Llynnon Windmill lovely (of course).

There was even a charming depiction of St Mary’s Chapel (Menai Bridge).

Two trains ran around the grounds and there was singing from the churches.

So much craft giving such simple pleasures. Later we discussed who we knew that would enjoy a visit, and struggled to choose likely candidates. Actually, there are a couple. Our mothers. They would see past the lack of technology or interactive experiences and just enjoy it for what it is. Perhaps because they of an age where they have not been blighted by technology, and have not chosen to take a leap into the silver surf. But more likely because they just see the good. As mothers do.

Lunch was a picnic in the car close to the straits, where the temperature reached a heady 23c. Too hot for both of us, especially given the lack of breeze.

As we were taking it easy, we behaved like an old couple on holiday and visited a garden centre. Actually we had already planned to do this (to buy a citronella candle), but I still felt a little old, restricted by bad weather and cirumstances. We spent quite a bit on not very much, including a journal decorated with a hot-air balloon design which I think I bought mainly because it was half price.

After the usual mid-week food top up (this time at Waitrose – very nice!), we made our way back via Bull Bay.

Bull Bay is one of those places which is always lovely. Today a strong breeze took away the heat and we were happy to rest a while, mildly amused by a well meaning couple badgering a cyclist for facts about the island and its beaches. We were not chosen as suspects for interrogation. Shame, they might have learned something.

Great excitement as we neared the cottage! The windmill sails were turning, which I captured on the 1020. Marvellous. Went to the shop. Had a lovely chat with the assistant and spent more money. This time on more permanent momentoes. Watched the sails being stopped and stripped of their sail-cloths.

Still Shot of Lynnon

Still Shot of Lynnon

Again, simple pleasures, but I did note the holiday budget took a hit.

Hope himself gets his walking legs back soon – this is proving expensive!

Min6

On The Island, Day 4. Change of Plan.

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Day four started well with a promise of a walk to a vantage point near LLygwy Bay.

No navigational errors, only a minor amount of PLRs (P*ssy Little Roads), plenty of parking and a pleasant breeze.

All was well until we reached the bridge, then after I had taken a photo (not another one). I turned to ask Si what he could see. No response, just a slow slump which I am sure I will replay in mind for a long time to come.

He landed sat upright, and asked in a slightly strangled voice what was happening to him. I just told him he was alright, got him sat down and thank God that we had remembered the water this time. He was lucid, had no apparent tingling, no shortness of breath or chest pains. His speech (when he had come to) was clear and he was able to move.

We returned to our cottage and took it easy for the rest of the day. Later on a trip to RAF Valley to watch the Hawks – which thankfully put on a better show than on Monday afternoon – provided a well timed distraction. We enjoyed a bit of people and tie watching – I’m sure that a late 80s Next design was on show in the adjacent car.

It was only a brief faint, hopefully, which we have put down to dehydration. For now at least.

But it has temporarily changed the dynamics. I am chief driver, and Si gets the opportunity to take in the view (when he is not worrying about what happened, or my driving). The planned coastal path walks are on hold and what we do on return to home will still have to be discussed.

And in my mind, I argue with myself about giving in to fear, ignoring it, or facing it and taking control of your future.

Min6

On The Island, Day 3. Could I Have My Rock Medium-Rare, Please?

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Today was our first day without the crowds. When it really starts to feel like a holiday for us, and not the world, his wife, children, campervan, dogs and canoe.

After a fairly leisurely start we set off towards one of the prime target from our holiday research, Llanddwyn Island. An island off the island.

To be accurate, it is a tidal island, but only at high tide.

After yesterday’s Watergate, we had packed fourbottles in the picnic bag; two to take with us and two to quench our thirst after the walk.

With nervous excitement we drove through the forest, paid the road toll, discussed whether I was sending us the correct way and arrived at spacious and well organised car park, complete with toilets, which would be very welcome after our planned water in-take.

We booted up and realised that we had created Watergate Two as we had left the picnic bag back at the cottage.

Undeterred, and given the cloudy skies, we set off. Initialy across soft sand which is a workout all of its own. Then through the edge of the forest, where my navigation was again called into question. There were not many other walkers about and we enjoyed our stroll towards a geocache, chatting about nothing in particular except failing memories.

The cache was tucked away, a little off a marked path, its position being (we both agreed) in an ideal caching location. Much Beloved’s opinion was probably based upon being near to a path, so with the illusion of remoteness but without the trek, and having good muggle visibility. I just thought it looked like several of the drawings used by groundspeak.

After leaving the forest and heading across another sand-gym, we were on the beach proper. Despite the haziness, the views were wonderful, from the outline of Snowden to the mountains behind Aberdesach. We soon reached the island and started a gentle ascent. Even the cattle notice didn’t phase MB, although my attempts to convince him that sheep were cattle failed. He’s an expert on his phobias.

Llanddwyn Island is a little gem. It offers good panoramas and a variety of wildlife, including choughs, ravens, oystercatchers, ponies and little birds. There are also many cormorants, but I prefer to point at one and ask “shag?”.

It is also has an interesting geological history, much of which I have forgotten, but which resulted in some very interesting rocks. This is where the beauty of the earth cache comes in. Had we not been in possesion of a GPS loaded with caches, we would not have known to head towards a particular beach.

And had we both not started to embrace the “lets just go and see” approach to apparently pointless paths, we might have decided that we could not reach said earth cache, because we thought that we had to walk along a thin high wall.

What we found was more views and this…

Or Is That Well Marbled Steak

Or Is That Well Marbled Steak

… who would have thought it? Betroot coloured rocks. And in such interesting formations. We could see where hot lava had pushed its way though and where two types of rocks had been pushed together.

The range of colours were amazing from lilac to near blood red – one rock looked like well marbled steak.

There was also bluey grey.

Almost a Tri-Colour

Almost a Tri-Colour

Incredible. We have a little research to carry out before claiming the cache, but we’ve left an on-line note to do this.

The beach was busying up as we left Llanddwyn.

Before returning to the car, Simon broke the prime directive and possibly
gave a cockle motion sickness when returning it to the sea.

As is often the case, when your mind knows that it is completing the final stretch of a walk, your legs pick up the message and yet another sand-gym had to be crossed to reach tarmac. Plus the clouds had cleared which didn’t please MB. Fortunately water was available from a burger van in the car park, so good humour was returned and we continued on our way.

Min6

On The Island, Day 2. Lights On. Lights Off.

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Well, it is our first full day in the wilderness.

I don’t want to go on about the automatic lights but the list of points against are increasing.

I’m generally an early riser, which means that for at least six months of the year it is dark when I wake. When I walk around the house I like to decide which lights I turn on; sometimes I choose none until I reach the kitchen. What I do not want is to be blinded into being full awake in one fell swoop as I step into the danger zone, sorry dining room.

And in the kitchen, I will usually choose a Hopper-esque low level light from the kitchen hood, until I am fully ready to join the day. More so on holiday, when I feel I have the right to move gently to wakefulness.

Not a chance here. “GOOD MORNING” the kitchen lights shout, one set slightly out of time with the other, and, as I am currently sitting quite still, I am suddenly plunged into semi-darkness. It could be a form of torture.

Don’t get me started on self closing drawers and cupboards.

Today we made a couple of outings. The first at one of our favourite beaches. We chose to walk to the headland and round to the next beach to avoid the crowds. Sea air is good for the soul, but selfishy, we would like it pretty much to ourselves. We are more sociable than we used to be, and I made the mistake of smiling at the man in the day-van parked next to us. Every time I turned in his direction he was grinning back while we had lunch in the car.

Our second outing was to be a walk along a reservoir, hopefully enjoying a light breeze and views of wildfowl in their adopted environment. What we were treated to was a trek in an airless tunnel of trees. There was tentative promise of water shimmering one on side, and hopefully it will be presented just around the next turn….

Eventually we reached the end of the reservoir. Much beloved was hot and tetchy, and we had forgotten our water bottle. Ironic, when you consider the view.

Water, water everywhere….. Dam. Damn.

It think that what annoyed us more was that this was not a circular walk, and we would have to suffer the same route in reverse to quench our thirst.

Back at the cottage, at the end of the garden is a chicken run with four or five hens and a rather fine looking cockerel. We had expected that we would be woken by one of nature’s alarm clocks, but no. In fact we haven’t heard him at yet at any hour. Poor chap. Perhaps he is mesmerised by the amazing flashing house.

Min6