What’s in a name?

I was thinking over the weekend about the implications of changing my name when Steven and I get married later in the year. Over time I have gone backwards and forwards about whether I would take my husband’s name when I got married or not. By the time we finally got around to getting married, I had pretty much decided that while I am happy to go against societal conventions, I do get fed up explaining why I am doing so to people. Hence, mainly out of laziness, I decided that I would change my name. It saves any confusion when we have children and means that I won’t have to get into complicated discussions about why I’m not Mrs. Hanlon.

One of the considerations was the fact that I don’t yet have a professional reputation to worry about. If I was more established in my career, I might have considered keeping my name professionally but at this point, it is unlikely that I will confuse anyone by changing it.

What occurred to me over the weekend though was that I have established a reputation under my maiden name, it is just an online one rather than a professional one. I am registered just about everywhere under my full maiden name: Distributed Proofreaders, Ravelry, Flickr, Facebook, Yahoo, Googlemail. Even the texts that I have submitted to Project Gutenberg are credited to my maiden name. Hundreds of people know me under a variety of usernames, all based on my maiden name. Some of these sites will let me change my userid, so I could change my name but some won’t. I also know that if I only “know” someone online, I struggle if they change their username because I have difficulty transferring the associations to the new name.

Given all this, it looks like I am going to be keeping my maiden name after all, even if only virtually!

Random Friday musings

How does someone manage to stub their middle toe so badly it turns a ghastly purpley-black colour without injuring the surrounding toes in any way at all?

I managed to do this while walking downstairs this morning but have no idea how!


How can I manage to go into a yarn store intending to buy a pattern book, yarn for baby presents, yarn and needles for a wedding shawl, and a bottle of cider and come out having spent only £5.50?

This one I do know the answer to: £2.50 on “Natural Knits for Babies and Mums” by Louisa Harding (I Knit special offer) and £3.00 on a bottle of cider. I Knit just did not have anything I fancied yarn-wise. I occasionally feel guilty for not buying more of my knitting supplies there, since I spend most Thursday nights in the shop knitting and chatting (and drinking organic cider) but they just don’t tend to stock yarn that I like using. The cider is fantastic, though!


How do I manage to not spend lots of money in a yarn shop that I intended to spend money in and yet manage to spend lots of money on knitting-related paraphernalia over the internet, whilst at work?

I actually think this is a reaction to the above question. I got really excited last night about the idea of buying yarn and needles to get started on the wedding and baby knitting, so when nothing came of it, I just had to have another go this morning. So, I bought the Honeybee stole pattern, some longer cables for my KnitPicks Options needles and some Rowan Cashsoft DK yarn for a baby jumper from the Louisa Harding book. I can’t find anywhere that has laceweight yarn that I like in a colour that will go with my wedding dress in stock at the moment so I also emailed a couple of places to find out when they are likely to get something in.

Meanwhile, I get to decide whether I’d rather do the Honeybee or the Myrtle Leaf Shawl from “Victorian Lace Today”. I’m currently leaning towards the Honeybee but love the idea of making something based on an original vintage pattern (the premise behind the Victorian lace book). Now that I actually own both patterns, I’ll sit down over the weekend to compare them and hopefully make a decision.

A philosophy for planning a wedding

Lists are good; short lists are better; short-lists are best.

Research and preparation are key for this one. I am not suggesting you short-list the first options that you come across. Take your time and make sure that your short-list has enough options on it that you do not feel like you might be missing something but not so many that it stops being short. Do not go visit every wedding venue in the country, check out websites and brochures, make a short-list (we only visited 6 venues in person) and, unless they really are not suitable, book one of them. If you really do not like any of them, start a new short-list. Do not keep visiting lots of venues, trying on lots of dresses, listening to bands, etc. ”just in case there is a better one out there”.

Like sex, if you are not having fun, you are not doing it right.

I am guilty of forgetting this myself sometimes but when it comes right down to it, planning a wedding should be fun. If you are not having fun, think about why not and see if you can do something about it.

Pick what is important to you and budget accordingly.

Unless you are very lucky, you are not going to be able to afford to spend unlimited sums of money on every aspect of your day, so decide which ones you are not willing to compromise on. Maybe you really want fantastic photographs but wouldn’t mind a cheaper cake; maybe you want a 5-star chef to cook for your guests but don’t mind not having live music.

Perfection is not the goal!

I am not suggesting you settle for second best or that you should not strive to get your day exactly the way you want it. Just remember that the day is about celebrating the commitment that you’re making and not about the exact colour of the bridesmaids’ dresses. Sometimes you just need to remember to let go of the reins for a while.

Elope! (or at least think about it)

This is not as silly a suggestion as it might seem. If planning is all getting a bit too much, you can always fantasise about running off and having a quiet ceremony, just the two of you and some witnesses. If it really all gets too much, then go ahead and do it! You can still have the big reception afterwards to let everyone else celebrate with you but it will ease a lot of the pressure. Your families should start speaking to you again eventually.

Keep information on a need-to-know basis.

Families (and friends) love playing Chinese whispers around wedding preparations. What you thought were perfectly innocuous statements will be taken completely out of context, exaggerated beyond all belief and you will end up spending lots of time trying to placate angry family members over things that are not even a problem in the first place. The best time to tell people what you are thinking of doing for any particular aspect of your day is when it is already booked and can not possibly be changed.

A walk in the woods

Steven and I spent yesterday enjoying the sunshine whilst walking in Kent. We drove out in my car, put the roof down, turned the music up and only got a little bit lost.

web_034 My car, posing at the foot of Snowdon, not longer after I bought it.

I’d forgotten just how much fun the MG-TF is to drive. Not to get too technical, it’s got a reasonably powerful engine, low centre of gravity and lots of torque meaning that you can throw it around corners and bends. Also, the engine always seems to have that little bit more to give when you put your foot down. I’m not sure I’ve ever managed to have it flat out on British roads. Of course, all this is done while driving sensibly and carefully, not endangering myself or other road users (no matter what my passengers sometimes say).

The walk itself was lovely. I would link to it on Kent County Council’s site but until it’s been updated with the corrections that I’m going to email them, I would hate to be responsible for anyone else attempting it with the current directions. For example, “14.Turn right, then take the next left – a bridleway into the woods.” should really have said “14. Turn left, then right – a bridleway into the woods.” Thank you very much to the local with the dog who managed to put us on the right path! I realise that the council can’t be held responsible for farmers taking down the old fences (with waymarkers) and replacing them with new ones (without waymarkers) but getting left and right the wrong way round in a walking guide is just bad.

There are no pictures from the walk, unfortunately, as the batteries in my camera had died. I discovered this trying to take a picture of what was described in the guide as “a small metal bridge”. For once, the council were absolutely spot on, the bridge can’t have been more than two feet long.

Since we were in the area, we decided we’d continue on (by car) to Canterbury once we had finished the walk and wander round the city before finding something to eat. I love Canterbury; it is one of the few towns that every time I go, I find myself thinking, “I could live here.” It is a pleasant mix of historic town with student town and has a decent-sized town centre without being too big. It doesn’t hurt that it is very pretty, either.

It also has an Oxfam bookshop, which is either a blessing or a curse. I picked up a couple of books to scan and submit to Project Gutenberg, which I’ll post about later.

Having dragged ourselves out of the bookshop, we ended up in the fantastic Cafe Mauresque restaurant for dinner. This is a really nice Spanish/North African restaurant serving cous-cous, tagines, tapas and paella. I couldn’t resist the lamb tagine but when I saw the size of the portion, I wished I hadn’t bothered with a starter! The main courses look expensive but considering the amount of food and the quality, they’re well worth it. The lunch and tapas menus look like excellent value, as do the desserts but there was just no space left to try them. Maybe next time.

Role reversal

Steven and I have never been a particularly traditional couple when it comes to gender roles. My favourite story is of the day that I spent buying a sports car and playing golf, while Steven shopped for clothes. (It was a suit for his graduation but it’s a better story if I don’t mention that.) For a while now, Steven has been trying to convince me that if we have children, he should stay home while I go out to work (assuming we can survive on just my salary).

There are good reasons why this makes sense but what mainly seems to be driving it is Steven’s thought that it would be horrible to have to go out to work every day while I got to stay at home! However, Steven’s been home this week while I’ve been out working and I’m just about convinced.

For instance, I came home last night to this:
Cake

That is a home-baked Victoria sponge with real whipped cream and fresh raspberries. Not only that but there was a risotto in the oven and clean laundry. I think I’m convinced.

I survived!

It’s true. I have officially survived my first set of professional exams. Now, I just have to wait until June to find out how I’ve done.

In other news, we have 99% of our kitchen fitted! There’s a drawer missing, where they sent us the wrong one, and we need to get the plumber back to connect the dishwasher and washing machine but everything else is in and working. This means that we can start cooking and washing dishes again. (I hate washing dishes anyway but having to wash them in the bathroom sink and dry them in the bath was awful.) We still need to get the walls and floor tiled but since we effectively haven’t had a kitchen since we moved in what we have now is fantastic. Over the past couple of days, I’ve kept finding myself standing in the kitchen gazing on it admiringly. I would have thought this was just a tactic to avoid studying but I’ve noticed Steven doing it too.

Tonight’s plan is to start unpacking boxes and putting crockery away and possibly christen the oven by baking brownies.

After my last exam yesterday, I suddenly thought, “What do I do when I’m not studying?” Then it struck me: I work on the flat and unpack boxes. It wasn’t the happiest of realisations. Having said that, the flat is now just about at a point where we can get most of the rest of our stuff unpacked and not have to do any major work on it for a while. So, we’re having a flat-warming party on Saturday 26th April (to give us the whole of this weekend to run around daft trying to make the flat presentable). I think Steven thought I was kidding when I said I was going to print out the photographs of what the flat looked like when we bought it and leave them lying around but I think I will. I’m so proud of what we’ve managed to do so far, especially considering that we’ve done the vast majority of it all on our own. Now, if I can just have passed all my exams as well, I’ll be happy.

Kitchen wars

Warning: This is a very long post and is entirely about us trying to get a kitchen fitted. Read on at your peril. I promise that the next post will be shorter and will almost certainly involve knitting.

The saga starts a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. (My Mum’s dining room sometime after Christmas.) Steven downloads the kitchen planning tool from IKEA and spends hours, whilst Mum and I are wedding dress shopping, designing a kitchen that will fit into our new flat. It looks great and he even managed to come up with an innovative way of working around the fact that modern kitchen units are too deep for our kitchen. We like the design but have no experience of IKEA kitchens and decide not to get carried away and order the first kitchen we think we like.

So we do some shopping around. We rule out B&Q kitchens on the grounds that we know too many people who have had terrible trouble with their installation service. MFI rule themselves out by not returning three separate phonecalls asking for a design appointment. Magnet rule themselves out by not having pricing information available in the showroom without me asking a salesperson for help. (Note to suppliers: I don’t like making phone calls and I don’t like salespeople trying to sell me things until I’ve decided what I want. This means I need lots of easily accessible information. If you’re not going to give me that, I’m not going to buy from you.) We ruled out all the beautiful adverts for solid wood kitchens that appear in our local free magazine because “we couldn’t possibly afford one of those”. Given how much this kitchen is going to have cost by the time it’s done, it turns out we probably could have.

Anyway, we end up deciding that we do want the IKEA kitchen after all. We go into the store to try and find out how much they want to charge for installation. We come back out of the store feeling like we had been hit by a bus. Let’s just leave it at “it was a bit more than we were expecting”.

Time passed and we still hadn’t ordered a kitchen. Eventually, we sit down with the combined budgets for the flat and the wedding and work out that we probably can afford the kitchen. However, we didn’t like the salesguy at the first IKEA we went to (or much of the rest of the store for that matter) so we decided to go to a completely different IKEA and ask them how much they’d charge for installation. Fortunately, the number they came up with was within our (newly revised) budget and we liked the salesperson a lot better so we decided to be brave and order the kitchen. Unfortunately, we only decided this after we had left the store and driven home. Undeterred by the 45 minute wait we had had to talk to someone appropriately trained in the kitchen department on the first occasion, I returned the next night (with Tetris on my phone) to order the kitchen.

So, kitchen has now been successfully ordered and the next step is getting an appointment with the installation company (IKEA sub-contracts the installation to local firms). Installation company don’t usually do evening or weekend appointments so we end up making an evening appointment for 10 days’ time. 8 days pass and then on the Wednesday I get a phone call from the installation company. “Hi Susan, just phoning to let you know that we’re not going to be able to make the survey appointment on Friday as Andy (names changed to protect the guilty) has had to go to the dentist to have a bad tooth pulled and we’ve given him a couple of days off afterwards because you know what men are like.” Umm, last time I had (wisdom) teeth pulled I was back at work the next day. The whole point of pulling teeth is that they stop hurting when you pull them and you’re not bothered by the pain any more! And guys, one word: professionalism. Your clients don’t need to know that you think all men are wimps. Not willing to wait for the two weeks for another evening appointment, I arrange to take an afternoon off work on the Monday and the appointment goes ahead as planned. Well, except for them turning up 1.5 hours late.

Appointment goes without a hitch and without too many patronising comments. One hilarious point when the guy asked me if he could take a look at the fuse box. I looked at him blankly and he repeated his question more slowly, explaining that this was where the fuses for the electric circuits would be. Still with an uncertain look on my face, I point at the fuse box that we’ve just spent 10 minutes discussing, including him measuring up to check that it would still be able to be hidden inside a cupboard when the new ones are fitted.

So, now IKEA know what units we would like and all the kitchen installer has to do is tell me and IKEA how much they will charge for the installation and the extra bits of work that we asked them to quote for. The installer tells me that he can send me a quote by the end of the week. This is a little disappointing since it’s only Monday and it’s already been 3 weeks since we placed the order with IKEA. He then tells me that he gets up really early every morning to check his email and do paperwork so that if I send him an email with my email address he could probably send me the quote the next morning. I duly did this and the quote arrived on the Friday. (sigh).

Steven and I think about the quote. This takes a couple of days since we eventually decide that we’ll get someone else in to do some of the extra bits of work that we need done (no way we’re paying someone £95 +VAT to plumb in a dishwasher!) and I phone IKEA to tell them that we’re happy to go ahead.

This is where the fun really starts. The guy that I speak to on the phone is happy to note down that we’re happy with the quote but can’t do anything else, including take payment. Apparently, this is for “data protection” reasons. Not a problem, someone will call me the next day to take my credit card details. Fine, not what I was expecting but never mind.

No phone call the next day. I get a voicemail the day after, asking me to call to pay for my kitchen. I phone back that afternoon. No good. Their payment team goes home at 3:30. The next couple of days at work are absolutely hectic and I don’t have time between 9 and 3:30 to call. Several voicemails are left asking me to call and pay. I eventually manage to find 5 minutes whilst on a break at a tutorial day and phone to pay. The gentleman on the other end of the phone assures me that this isn’t how it’s supposed to work and that I can’t pay for my kitchen because management haven’t approved the price of my order. He will give me the full price for my order, if I’m happy with that, he can pass the price to management and if they’re happy with it, someone will call me to take payment. (Why on earth do their management have to approve the price for my kitchen after I’ve said I’m happy to pay it? Why don’t they approve it before anyone tells me what it is going to be?) He gives me the price (which I already knew), I say I’m happy and he says that someone will phone me the next morning to take payment. I’m not good at arguing with people on the phone so I say that’s fine and hang up.

Just as I hang up, my phone rings. It’s my voicemail. With a message from IKEA asking me to please phone and pay for my kitchen as they can’t progress my order until I do. While I was on the phone to them being told that I can’t pay for my order, they’re on the phone to me telling me that I have to pay for my order! Despite the fact that I now only have 5 minutes to get back into class, I phone them straight back.

I explain about my earlier phone call and about the voicemail and they put me back through to the guy I had just been talking to. Some fiddling around on his computer and he tells me that my order has now appeared in his queue and he can now take payment. I’m just happy that he’s now willing to take my credit card details and don’t bother arguing about why he couldn’t do so five minutes beforehand. Then, my credit card is declined. Why the credit card company thought this was a suspicious transaction when all the other transactions on this credit card are for the purchase of home improvement stuff, I don’t know but they thought they were doing me a favour and declined it. I really have to get back into class now and I tell him that I’ll phone back the next day having either sorted it out with the credit card company or with a different set of card details.

I phone back the next morning. I explain that I had phoned to pay for my order. The girl on the other end of the line very carefully explains that that’s not how it works and that I need to wait for management to approve my order (I still don’t understand why IKEA’s management needs to approve my spending. Steven, sometimes, IKEA’s management, no) and then someone will phone me to take payment. I explain that I had already jumped through that particular hoop and was phoning with different credit card details because my card had been declined the previous day. “Oh, were you speaking to Bob? (names changed to protect the guilty)” I have no idea who I was speaking to but since it sounds like I might get somewhere if I say I was speaking to Bob, I say I was speaking to Bob. She then puts me through to Bob, who, it turns out, I was talking to the previous day. Bob takes my credit card details, my kitchen is now paid for and someone will call me to arrange delivery.

Someone calls and we arrange delivery. They want to deliver on a Friday afternoon so we wait in for them. Delivery is supposed to arrive between 1 and 5 and they’re supposed to phone me an hour in advance to let me know that they’re on their way. 4 o’clock comes and no one has phoned to say that they’re on their way. I phone IKEA to be told that they’re running late but my kitchen is on a van and will be delivered today. At 7 o’clock, I get another phone call to say that they’re running very late and my kitchen is being transferred to a courier who is willing to deliver up to 11 o’clock that night, if I’m going to be in to receive it. Since I had already decided that I wasn’t going anywhere until my kitchen was delivered, I said that was fine. Steven and I did think it was a little odd that they were going to get a courier to deliver a kitchen but, hey, if the courier wasn’t complaining, neither were we. At 7:45, I get another phone call: the courier complained and is not going to be delivering the kitchen. The kitchen is instead on its way back to the depot and someone will call me in the morning to arrange re-delivery.

Being a little impatient by the time the next morning comes around, I phone them. “I’ll just need to check with the depot that they do have your kitchen back and I’ll call you back to arrange re-delivery.” I don’t receive a call and by the time I call them back (around 12:30) they’ve all gone home.

I phone back on Monday morning. Suffice to say that they were having catastrophic IT problems and it was Monday afternoon and 4 phone calls later before anyone could actually arrange a delivery for me. “Okay, Miss Skinner, we can deliver your order on Friday 11th April,” sensing that I was about to object, “or, if that’s not convenient, we could do Saturday 12th.” Okay, there are so many reasons why that’s not acceptable. Firstly, the installers are coming on the 8th and while there are things that they could be getting on with, there aren’t 3 days worth of things. Secondly, why does my order end up at the back of the queue because you failed to deliver it? Thirdly, how can you possibly think it’s acceptable for the second attempted delivery to take a place a fortnight after the first. I reined in my temper and stopped after reason 1. “Well, all I can do is pass it through to our planner, flagging it up as a planning problem and someone will call you back in a couple of days.” A couple of days! I eventually got her to concede that someone would call me back before Tuesday night (bear in mind that this is Monday afternoon).

Next morning, I come out of a meeting at work to find a voicemail saying, “Hi, Susan. This is Claire (names blah blah blah). Just phoning to check that everything went okay with your delivery on Friday.” I admit it, I gave an evil chuckle and called her straight back. Several rounds of phone tig later, I eventually manage to speak to her, explain what had happened and get her to admit that this was unacceptable. Several more rounds of phone tig later (some of which I got Steven to do for me) and we now (allegedly) have a delivery arranged for Saturday and an installation arranged for Tuesday. Wish us luck!

“Sorry, I forgot our anniversary”

In some relationships, the above statement could cause all sorts of problems and recriminations.

Not us. Nope, both Steven and I managed to forget that yesterday was our 10 year anniversary. That’s right, not any old anniversary, our 10 year anniversary.

This didn’t really come as a surprise to either of us given our track record for remembering our anniversary. At one point it got so bad that we had to get a calendar out and work out which day it must have been (so far we can still remember the year). This in turn led to its own problems; could we remember which of the James Bond films had we been to see that day? We’ve now agreed to agree that it must have been “You Only Live Twice”.

I’m hoping that getting married will solve the anniversary problem. Given the number of times that I’ve already had to tell people that date, I’m pretty sure it’s going to stick in my head for a while. Just don’t ask me when we got engaged.

The Fear

We’ve all been there. The feeling that hits when you realise that the exam (or three) that seemed so far away that it couldn’t possibly ever get here is now only two weeks (to the day) away. Well, it hit me big time last night. I’m confident about passing 2 out of the 3 exams (if I put enough work in) and I’m still hoping that I can make the hat-trick. My tutor wrote me some wonderful comments on my (failed) mock exam saying that he thinks I can definitely pass the third exam. Those cheered me up for about 20 minutes and now the fear is back. (To put things in perspective, I also failed the other two mocks, just not by quite as much.)
So, you might ask, what am I doing sitting in front of a computer blogging and not studying. Given that I spent 8 hours at a tutorial today, I decided to take a break tonight and go to the knit night at I Knit. I started working on Isabella from Knitty’s spring ‘07 issue using the yarn that was supposed to be my Goddess jumper. After working on it for a couple of hours I’ve decided that I’m not going to knit it according to the pattern. There’s no way I will ever do all the seaming that is required (knitted picot edging and a jumper knitted in sections) so I’m going to improvise. I’m going to knit it in the round using a provisional cast on that I will then add a crochet edging too. This should leave me with just the shoulder seams to seam and I think even I can handle that. This is my first attempt at modifying a pattern quite this much so wish me luck!

No knitting before coffee

Apparently my caffeine dependency has reached new depths this week. I thought I had a spare 5 minutes before I had to leave for work this morning and decided it would be nice to spend it knitting my Tubey since I finally managed to get to the colour change last night. I sat down, started knitting and promptly zoned out only to realise after a couple of minutes that I’d been knitting all the stitches, instead of the K3P1 rib that was supposed to be happening. I proceeded to rip out said incorrect stitches and re-knit at least some of them so that I could feel like I’d made some progress. I then decided that the late Douglas Adams’ comment that “Time is an illusion; lunchtime doubly so.” needs extending to add “and time that you think is spare before leaving for work triply so,” as I had now taken more than 5 minutes on my knitting and realised that I didn’t have my shoes, jacket, housekeys or mobile ready to go. Arriving at work, I realised that I hadn’t had my access badge ready either.

One coffee down and I’m not sure my brain’s doing any better yet!

Oh, and should any members of the Parliamentary Public Bill Committee currently discussing the new Pensions Bill happen to be reading this, please take note that while you had a nice recess last week leaving you refreshed and rejuvenated and able to get through huge amounts of work this week, some of us didn’t. If you could slow down your discussions a little so that I can keep up, it would be much appreciated.