Sunday, 29 June 2014

Sunday Summary

Did ya miss me last week? Did ya?

No? OK, fair play to you. It's not all about me.

(Oh wait, it's my blog. 'Course it flipping is.)

See, the problem with me having 'committed' to write these Sunday Summaries is that sometimes I just have nothing to write.

{I love a gif that requires no subtitles.}
I know.

Shocking. Surely, I hear you all mutter at your blog feeds, she must have done something with her week worth warranting? She's young(ish)*, carefree(ish) and single -- surely she must be gadding about town in the manner of Carrie Bradshaw?

But really, no. Sometimes life gives you nothing of note to summarise, or as my mother and I often say, nothing strange nor startling. But that's OK. I've been keeping things lo-pro.

Anyway. This week has been slightly livelier so here we go!

This week I have mostly been...


Naomi and Ely's No Kiss List | Rachel Cohn & David Levithan

Enjoyable but my goodness how self-centred is Naomi?! Two men named Bruce actively define themselves by the order in which they were dated by her. Get over yourself, girlfriend.

The Silver Sword | Ian Serraillier

Written shortly after the end of World War 2, this is raw, honest, and non-patronising to child readers. And uplifting. I owned this book as a child, and read it, but never 'got it' because my world was too small. Definitely one to appreciate as an adult.

And my current read: Louder than Words | Laura Jarratt 

So, yes, I am mostly reading YA/children's books (they boost my reading quota!) but I am of the firm belief that these are of no less value as reading material than adults' books.

Singin' and Dancin'

Next Saturday night, 150+ friends and I will be taking to the stage at the Hawth in Crawley for our annual Voicerox Choir performance.

Every year we spend September to June/July working up to this event. Since 2011 we've grown out of our local theatre in Redhill to this 800+-seater in Crawley and it's a one-night-only performance. (At the time of writing there are but 22 seats left to book!)

And I cannot wait. I love this choir, I love these people, and I love performing with them. Our musical director Mel coaxes professional-level performances out of all of us.

{Photo by Anthony Gould-Davies via}

For the last two years I've been functioning as a 'Deskette' with six other lovely members -- helping on the front admissions desk before rehearsals, from taking payments to ticking in all the members (I can nearly remember everyone's names now, nearly...) -- and our reward for this is to perform our own number in the show. With moves.

Last year we were the Spice Girls (who did we think we were...?), the year before, the girls were Bananarama and this year, we're ... so excited. And we just can't hide it.

I am struggling a little with my dance moves -- QB is not one of life's natural prancers -- but I think on the night we'll all be on so much adrenalin the moves will just... flow. I'm still trying to channel this chickadee:

rather than wigging out and executing this kinda move:

Rewatching | Stealing Beauty

Next Friday 4th July marks 6 years since my lovely clan and I set off for Florence to celebrate two 60th birthdays and one 30th.

I developed a hankering to see Florence after watching Stealing Beauty, and I still love the region -- and the film. And Jeremy Irons in the film. Somehow this translated into the decision to persuade my whole family we needed to go to Tuscany.

But more on that next weekend (once I've recovered from all the singing and shenanigans...)!

Stealing Beauty is the rather wondrous, dreamy tale of Lucy who travels to Tuscany to spend time with her late mother's friends and to find out who her real father is, as well as to discover first love. Made in 1996 it is only slightly dated now (see: Lucy bouncing up and down with a Discman in her hand, and the video footage of her on the plane at the beginning of the film) and it's still rather beautiful.

Here's the trailer:

Check out Design*Sponge for an aesthetic appreciation of the film.

Swimming Not swimming

Now, it's not that I've lost the love of the swim itself, I haven't. But I've lost the ability and scope to get into the pool and just swim without some numbskull blatantly disregarding pool etiquette and effectively bullying other swimmers out of the lanes.

Additionally, the timing of many of the open sessions appear to revolve around clubs and lessons, so oftentimes I can't even get into the pool until 9pm. It's too late and isn't working into my life routine as I would like it. #firstworldproblem

So I've made the rather sad decision to turn in my pool membership and only swim as an occasional pleasure. It does mean I am breaking one of my promises to myself, and I'm not quitting altogether, I'm just not making it a regular event any more. I was getting frustrated more than liberated, and that wasn't what the exercise was supposed to be about.

But all is not lost on the Get-QB-Moving Campaign Front because I have also mostly been...

Entering the London 2 Brighton 100k Challenge 2015

Yep -- I'm doing it!

These stumpy little legs will need to carry me the equivalent of two-and-a-bit MoonWalks** from deepest Richmond to brightest Brighton next May.

There is something deliciously solitary about walking that I love. It can be a social activity, and my walks with my work girls have been brilliantly social and edifying. But there is definitely something of the Harold Fry about me. I need to forge out my own pilgrimages and be alone with my thoughts.

It's an introvert thing. No, really.

This time I've chosen to walk for the MS Society (UK) -- I don't have a fundraising page set up yet (I do have about 10 months to raise £400 after all) but when I do, rest assured there will be a link. Thank you please.

Discovering the enjoyment potential of Champagne Cocktails

And Chambord, black raspberry liqueur. I like raspberries. I like Champagne. This marriage will last, babies.

{Here's to the art of toasting Fridays...}

Asterisk round-up: 

* Check out -- according to this site, today I am the age equivalent of Alfie Allen (who's apparently in Game of Thrones) + the offspring of Shaquille O'Neal.

Or, in old money, I'm 13,133 days old. Excellent stuff.

** 100k = 62.137119224 miles to be exact. Which works out as 2 x MoonWalks + 37% of a MoonWalk. Yep.

Weekly Weblinks

And now for the non-book related shenans:

And finally:

{via here}

Bye-zee-bye for now!

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