Being Practical

I’ve been intending on writing a blog post for weeks, but yet again I’ve been swept up in a flurry of activity that has left me without the time to just sit down and scribble/type/dribble all over the keyboard. How did November come around already? How can I be subjected to Christmas advertisements and the dull, grey misty skies of the eleventh month of the year already? Where has 2011 gone? What the hell am I doing?!?!

Actually, I’ve been doing quite a lot since my freelance ‘office’ days were suddenly reduced by 25% a month. You’d think I’d be out hunting for work like a normal person. But you’re probably getting to know me a bit by now and if there’s anything I’ve learnt about myself (and been told), I’m not typical or normal or run of the mill in many ways. I just don’t function in that way. So although I have spent a considerable amount of time putting together an interim website to showcase my professional “talents”, I have also spent a considerable amount of time doing other activities that may not have always been a top priority, but have always been on my To Do Someday list. I thought it was about time that I acquired some new skills, seeing as I have a little extra time, and a minuscule amount of breathing space before I have to go out and win me some more freelance work.

So after doing a very good impersonation of whirling dervlish whilst I tried to tidy up the house and bring some semblance of order to my tumbledown home, I was in the mindset to Try New Things. I spend a lot of my time on computers, and in my spare time, I’ve turned into somewhat of a practical beast. My first task was sorting out my parents’ bedroom. My Mum and Dad downsized a few years ago into a DIY nightmare of a house. We’re talking live wires in the walls, random and weird DIY solutions such as drilling a hole through the outside wall to move an internal aerial cable from one floor to another. The house had been inhabited by about 5 owners in 10 years or something ridiculous, each of which put their own dodgy “mark” on the property. In the year or so before and after Nannie died, my parents went through a lot. As over 50s, they’ve struggled to find work. They’re worried for their future. They haven’t been able to repair and renovate the house as they intended and they’ve been constantly living in other people’s disastrous mess. So Rich and I (in return for being fed rock cakes and other delights, for gardening services from my Mum, and for assistance with my online business) started renovating their bathroom. We had to back pedal so far to undo all the dodgy DIY that a year on, it’s still a bare shell.

But in the summer, I took to my parents’ bedroom with a wallpaper steamer. I told Mum we were going to get one room in the house straight. A place for them to have their own mark on. Mum has been pretty beaten down by everything that’s happened to them and the constant stress, so she found it very hard to go along with my bullish attitude. But I pressed ahead, and started on the bedroom. Mum got more enthusiastic. We ripped up the disgusting, ill-fitted carpet. Mum repainted the fitted wardrobes from a drab 80s grey to new white. She painted the ceiling, painted the walls in a gorgeous mellow buttercream and glossed all the original 30s wordwork. A few weeks passed with little happening. We discovered some very dodgy floorboard cutting, where the floorboards had been cut next to the joists and were essentially ‘floating’ with nothing to hold them on. They’d been replaced by badly fitting bits of wood that creaked and groaned when any weight was placed on them. So Rich brought around our DeWalt mitre saw (my practical present to him a few years ago – it’s an amazing piece of kit!) and we bought a pack of new floorboards, put in a new joist (reclaimed from a renovated house down the road) and voila – new, safe, non-creaky floorboards. Mum went out with some money she’d saved up over the last few months and managed to wrangle the carpet salesman down to her budget on a piece of end-of-roll carpet. “Dad said he’ll fit it,” she told me. The carpet lay in the empty room for a week. Dad is always working at his craply paid sales job. I knew he wouldn’t have the time or inclination to lay the carpet. So I called Mum up.

“Mum, I’ve watched a video on how to do it, and I’m going to lay your carpet,” I proclaimed. We had a few carpet laying bits and bobs and I’d helped Rich lay one in a small back room of our house. So I went round and Mum helped me lay the carpet out. I struggled with getting the tension right. I swore a lot. I swore more and refused to give in. I got very cross. I think Mum felt like taking me out with the carpet stretcher. I called Rich and he came round and told me I was doing OK. He helped a little. I felt less angry.

After two days of kicking in, cutting, tucking, more kicking in, carpet rash on my knees and two minor gashes from the stanley knife on my hand, I finished the job. We didn’t need professionals. We’d renovated the whole room for £147. Rich and I helped Mum move the bed back in, put the curtain rail up. Mum got out her new bedside light lampshades that she’d bought for pennies at a carboot. We moved Nannie’s old turn of the century dresser in. The room was complete. Mum hugged me and told me how lovely it was, how lovely I am. Dad came home from work and called me up to exclaim about what a good job I’d done.

I felt proud. I’d fitted a carpet, and helped Mum and Dad finish their first job. Mum text me last night to say how lovely the bedroom still is. I’m so pleased. It’s the small things in life, yada yada… You can see my carpet fitting shenanigans here. Careful! It might be too rock’n’roll for your liking…

But that’s not my only practical endeavour. Not only have I fitted floorboards, fitted a carpet, and made an apple crumble of late (I need sustenance for all this practical work), but last week I finally got the sewing machine out that I inherited from Nannie in 2008, and read the instructions. Sewing machines have always been a mystery to me. I’ve always wanted to able to make thing for myself – a vital aspect of self sufficiency – but again it’s one of those things that I just never got around to. But I managed to thread it up, and started practising on some scrap fabric. You see, I have a fundraiser craft fair that I’m helping at in December, and Mum and I have a half stall that we’re selling things on. So we needs things to sell. Whilst Mum is perfectly adept at sewing, knitting and such, I am not. But I hope in a few weeks, I’ll have something to show. I managed to make a little hanging dove in funky fabric as a first little project, and I’m hoping to eventually progress to the likes of soft furnishings (we need curtains in this house), clothes and bags for myself. Recycle old fabric and make something new from something old. I really enjoy that.

So whilst I continue to grapple with my sewing machine, get the knitting needles out (I had a disaster with circular knitting needles and almost punched something when it all went wrong), and look for more excuses to hone my DIY skills (I have my eye on our crumbly windows and there’s also still Mum and Dad’s bathroom to finish), in the back of my mind I’m fully aware that my financial situation has to improve. I see these new skills that I’m learning as more strings to my bow, more steps forward on the road to some degree of semi-self sufficiency. I like being capable.

But I can’t ignore that I need more savings, more income and that I am going to have to think ahead a lot. I’ve had a lot of encouragement behind the scenes with finding new work and new clients, and the prospects are not at all bleak – if I put in the time and effort. I don’t expect it to be easy, but I know if I focus I can do it. And then, with my physiotherapy and the prospect of being finally ‘fixed’, a full time job working at a desk is also an option I can start to reconsider.

But if I have learned anything from the past few weeks, it is this. My current dream  – that I share with Rich – remains property restoration and development, preferably with an eco twist. I love being practical,and feeling tired in a good, physical way at the end of the day. I like seeing my progress. I love seeing something new come from something old, to see new life breathed into something. I really, really like that idea… I just need to get the funds together to make it happen, and for now, that means working my backside off.

I am an Onion

The passing of our family ancient cat Ted. The passing of the season. The passing of a quarter of my regular income every month. There are many things have have come to and end recently  in my life, not all bad but not all particularly welcome, but changes nonetheless. Again, it feels as if my life is suddenly shifting in a series of small degrees which sends me on a slightly different tangent to whatever path I was previously following. I don’t feel melancholic… just like things have yet again shifted and I have to find my feet again.

Sounds deep, doesn’t it? It’s just sometimes it feels as though I’m bumbling along, trying to get things to work in the way that I want (and need) them to, and then suddenly something happens that forces my hand. Makes me have to reconsider things, make new plans, make choices.  This time, it’s mostly to do with work. I found out on Tuesday that I was to lose one day a week of regular income through no fault of my own – I was effectively made redundant, although I was working in a freelance capacity and had no contract per se to speak of. So the effect is immediate, and means a 25% cut in the work that I count as my ‘regular income’. For this month at least I have a grace period thanks to a freelance cheque that will be arriving soon, but after that I shall be digging deep to find some more work. And digging even deeper in my wallet.

So for now, the pressure is back on. Again.

You see, there are two things in my life that have held me back over the years. Lack of substantial funds (and I’m guessing that a good proportion of the population of this country are in the same boat), and my back. Work is going to be even more challenging, but that’s the life of a freelancer.

But with my back, things are at least changing for the better. I’ve started some physiotherapy, and it seems that after 15 years, we’re finally getting to the crux of why I’m constantly in pain, why I can’t work 5 days a week without being virtually crippled, and why I am the wobbly but essentially screwed up ball of tightness and stress that I am. My physio has described my ‘case’ as “very interesting” and “very complicated” and “widepsread”. She says my overall condition is like a big onion, where we’re having to peel away at each layer to get to the centre of the problem. And best of all, she says I am fixable.

You have no idea how that feels to hear those words. After 15 years of constant background aches and pains, as well as incidents where I couldn’t even stand up straight and walk properly despite only being only in my 20s, this revelation is like music to my ears. I am fixable. This isn’t the way it always has to be.

Apparently in some areas of my body, I have no muscle strength whatsoever, because somewhere along the line, something happened to a specific joint (I think) and knocked me completely out of kilter. So other dominant muscles have taken over, my body has tried to adapt to moving in a certain way and it’s causing all this pain and strain, lack of balance, and at times, immobility. Added to that, year upon year of stress (some self-inflicted, but at other times prolonged periods of things that happened to me and were simply out of my control) has turned me into a rigid, stringy ball of concrete. And apparently I don’t breathe properly, because of the way I’ve come to hold myself and move. So that compounds the problem. I can’t physically relax properly. I haven’t been able to physically relax for years. I’ve always felt out of kilter.

So we’re not only peeling back each layer, solving each physical problem as we go, but we’re building me up again. I’m going to get stronger and more competent, and I’m going to be able to relax. And sleep properly. The prospect of actually being able to consider full-time work, to be able to dig for more than 10 minutes without experiencing two days of back pain, to drift off to sleep without pain, to move freely and without caution as well as being able to actually relax my body (and hopefully, my mind), is just… well, I guess I feel relieved. Relief that it’s not just *me* and that there’s actually some tangible reason why I feel tense and awkward and jerky and off-balance a lot of the time. Believe me, I will be doing all that I can to get myself into the condition I should have been all these years.

So at least in one important aspect of my life, we’re finally moving in the direction that I want to go. And although I’ve taken a hit in the financial department, I’ve got to look at the opportunities it might present. I have a few things I’m looking into but for now I’ll just be working harder, longer hours and tightening my belt.  Much like a lot of other people around the country at the moment. Given the rising food prices, petrol prices and general living costs, it’s not going to be a walk in the park, but then it never has been for me. At least I have a roof over my head, food on the table and I’m an onion that’s fixable.

I think I’ve got that right?

Dreaming of Living by the Sea, Whilst I Work

The last you heard from me, July was a busy month and I was generally running around going “Arrggghhh! Stuff to do!!!!”. Halfway through August, that hasn’t changed one iota, as generally the list of Things to Do lengthens, and my freelance work remains (thankfully) steady. A couple of weeks ago, we managed to get away for a day to the beach in Suffolk. Walberswick, to be precise, and although it was a bit overcast and manky, in the evening we were lucky enough to watch the clouds roll away and be basked in the most delicious golden sunlight as we played games on the beach and ate from a barbeque.

The weekend after I went away with some friends for the weekend in Kent; again, we visited the beach – this time Camber Sands – and even though our afternoon jolly there was brief, after eating chips and curry sauce by the beach I was again convinced that it was a place that I needed to be.

Those visits to the beach cemented the idea in my head that I would very much like to live by the beach one day. There is something about the sea that really invigorates me and makes me feel settled and steady. I don’t think that I’d grow tired of it, either. With house prices the way they are, and no change on the horizon, it may well be a pipe dream, but one that I’m happy to hold on to for years to come.

It’s been a funny summer at The Smallest Smallholding really. I haven’t done that much. I always expect myself to be really busy doing this, that and the other but in a way it’s been Rich that’s taken the lead, mowing, cutting, watering, whilst I sit bog-eyed at the computer managing my little online business, writing and helping to organise this conference. There is quite a bit to do, but all in all things to seem to be taking care of themselves at this point – the chillis are slowly growing, the tomatoes are hanging around waiting forever to ripen, and the squash plants have LITERALLY taken over the greenhouse to the point where I can only step inside the door and go no further. I don’t mind really, because I’m hoping that the extra warmth in there will mean my squashes will grow to a good size, and there’s much less threat of frost damage that plagued so many of them last year.

I think with growing, the thing I look forward to most is the eating part. I do enjoy watching things grow from a tiny, inconsequential-looking seed into something quite magnificent, but it’s the part where you serve it up on your plate, knowing where you grew it, how you grew it, remembering all the effort that went into growing it… all that somehow adds to the feeling of satisfaction when you’ve finished. My ‘yields’ are very small, as there’s just two of us and I haven’t yet explored storing my fruit & veg yet (another one on the ‘To Do’ list), but at the moment I’m enjoying using my own garlic, onions and potatoes. These are three staple ingredients in many the easy, rustic dishes that I cook for myself, and there is definitely a difference in flavour there that I’m enjoying.

Our little patch of Smallest Smallholding is also proving to be a gold mine for feeding the rabbits, with grasses, thistle leaves, dandelion leaves and such providing free fodder, helping to keep costs down. I’m hoping that by autumn, with our squashes and leeks and carrots we’ll be able to do the same. Because we are limited on space, I tried to plant things that I would be using frequently, but also plant food that is maybe a little more expensive to buys in the shops. Whereas I can buy a £6 bag of good quality maincrop potatoes from our local farmer, growing them at home would take up valuable space. Leeks always seem to be quite pricy to me, and I use them a lot in my veggie dishes so it made sense to have my own crop this year.

Mum is lucky enough to share a field with her best friend, so she’s been growing her own food on a much larger scale than me. But then, Mum has more time to devote to it, so it works out for her and often, I’ll do a job for Mum – perhaps some painting, or fixing something, or some leaflets for her little business, and she’ll repay me with a vat of soup (or if it’s Rich, often Rock Cakes or Lemon Drizzle Cake) that means we don’t have to pay to feed ourselves for a couple of days (unless it’s the Rock Cakes, because they disappear too quickly). It’s all swings and roundabouts and it’s an arrangement I’m happy with.

So food aside, as ever there is plenty for me to be getting on with, but simply not enough hours in the day. I’ve booked myself off on ‘holiday’ in 3 weeks, just as the kids go back to school. We might head to the beach again with our tent for a couple of days, but there’s also lots of things I need to get sorted here in that time too. Repairing the window frames, weeding, and sorting the Mediterranean area to name just three. We’ve been umming and ahhing about whether to opt for gravel in the Med area, but we think for simplicity and because we have 6 million other things to manage and think about, we might grass it for now, and perhaps think about adding in a gravel path or stonechipped area later on when we have the resources and the time to spare. I’ll plant up my plants specially picked by Stephen from Victoriana Nursery Gardens in to get them established – even restricted in their pots, they’ve definitely been a target for bees and hoverflies this summer, and I’m looking forward to filling in the gaps once they’re in and rooted nicely.

So, in the meantime, it’s business as usual, with work and cleaning and not doing the weeding, and trying to keep the house from turning into a tumble-down fur pit and wondering when the car is finally going to go kaput and making plans for build a new shed because the old one is falling down and making sure we’ve got enough to pay all the bills and tackling the debt and looking for more, more, more work and on and on and on and on…