My friend took me rock-climbing the other day.  Outdoors.  I’d had visions of hiking for hours in the pouring rain and then climbing a gruelling and terrifying multi-pitch route.

But in fact – contrary to the weather forecast – it didn’t rain.  Neilston quarry turned out to be the perfect height for scaredy-cats and there was no need for any multi-pitch stuff.    I had two moments where I was picturing my own death but I think that was more due to an overactive imagination than any actual danger.

And then, just when it was getting to the point where I was thinking it would be nice if quarries came equipped with coffee-shops, the guys next to us asked if we wanted a cup of tea!  Tea?  Out in a quarry?  Oh yes.  They had a little stove.  It was good, it was fast.  And they gave us sweet black tea and a slice of madeira cake.

Nice.

In the spirit of continuing to take risks and try new things, I tried out an ice axe and crampons this weekend. I’ve always been wary of both items, first because they’re just an extra thing to carry and second, because if the mountain is really that dangerous then my inner parent generally doesn’t think I should be allowed out on it.

However, I had the chance to go for a hillwalk with a good friend and an experienced mountain leader and this chance coincided with the opportunity to borrow an ice axe and crampons.

We had a great day out, and stopped to play with the ice axe in a suitable icy patch which had soft snow and heather at the bottom of it. Lots of fun, and it did convince me that an ice axe could have uses other than accidentally impaling its owner.

And as for the crampons, well they are just an extra thing to carry and extra weight on your feet while you’re wearing them, but they gave me a magical superhuman ability to walk on ice without slipping. Apparently you can even walk UP sheer walls of ice, but that’s an adventure for another day.

Sometimes you need to nearly lose something to appreciate it.

The other week I left my jacket at the climbing centre. This is a jacket I got second-hand, so it wasn’t ever of huge financial value. Then after I bought it, I wasn’t sure I liked it.  Its a muted kahki colour, and usually I’d for jackets that are either colourful themselves, or are dark colours which go well with brigh colours.  But gradually I was beginning to use this jacket, and was beginning to like it, but continued to take it for granted and didn’t really think of it as a favourite.

Then one day I left it at the climbing centre, and didn’t manage to get back to pick it up for over a week.  When I finally got to the climbing centre, they consulted their on-line lost property system (ooh!  An on-line lost property system, you don’t get that everyday!)   According to the system, no lost property had been handed in for a month.  I began to get a sinking feeling.  I’d never see that jacket again.  Just as I began to realise what a good purchase it was, it had been cruelly snatched from me.  Or, more accurately, I had foolishly left it behind on a post-climbing adrenalin high.

Then the nice man at the climbing centre said he’s check the lost property cupboard anyway and see if it happened to be there.  And it was.  Right at the front, looking a little forlorn and chalky but none the worse for its ordeal.

My jacket and I were reunited.  No longer taking it for granted, I spent some quality time with my jacket that evening and again the following day.

And we all lived happily ever after.

Had a strange and stressful day, involving some strange requests and a friend going through a hard time. Then there followed an incident of much strangeness but that made me smile.

I got on the underground to go to a friend’s house for cake (mm that too was a Good Thing), had about 8 stops to go. Half-way along, the underground train stopped for a few minutes longer than usual. Finally an underground worker got on our carriage and very purposefully strode up it, looking at all the passengers in turn. Felt a bit worried, maybe he’d heard rumours of a terrorist travelling with us. Didn’t seem like the right time of day for terrorists somehow. He made rapid progress along the carriage until he got to me.

He looked at me, stopped, and said “Are you French?”

All the other passengers looked on in anticipation.

I said, “No”.

He walked out, explaining as he went “we’ve lost a wee French lassie”.

And everyone in the carriage exchanged bemused smiles. I was very chuffed to have looked French. And isn’t it nice that the people who run the underground system care enough about their passengers to send out a search party?

Went to the gym today, and on the way out had to stop to organise a boring admin thing.

And recognised a guy standing behind me. Met him a at a party over a year ago, then bumped into him again in an airport in Amsterdam, we were both on our way from Glasgow to Germany.

And he insisted on giving me his email address. Cool! Its like the kind of thing that usually only happens in films! Except I don’t think its really going to come to anything in a happy-ever-after sort of way, but nice anyway!

Voting in Scotland this time round is very complicated. There were three different things to vote for/about, and two different ways of voting. Had various conversations with colleagues and all seemed to be vaguely confused, except for the happy few who will always vote for the party their family voted for, no matter what. Seems that you can vote for your favourite party and also for your favourite individual even if you’re not all that keen on the individual’s party.

My main goal was NOT to invalidate my vote. So I was focussing on “cross, cross, numbers” (ie the first two votes you put a cross against your favourite, the final one you get to rank your favourites in order).

And I hadn’t quite decided who to vote for till I finally got to the ballot box so I was a bit nervous and suddenly thought it might be illegal to have have flyers in the booth with me (like cheating in exams! I should have revised more! I should have memorised who was who and what each party stood for!). So I did the first two crosses kind of impulsively and then started to think about the one that needed numbers. And then noticed the words at the top saying “mark with a cross”. Argh! The mantra of “cross, cross, numbers” only works if you get the ballot papers in the right order!!

See wikipedia for details on how complicated it is.

Good stuff that happened:

• Socialists were a bit pushy as I went in, saying something like “can I count on your vote today?”, then said I’d said “no” in a more friendly way than anyone else all day. (Still didn’t vote for them though)
• Nice man explained how the three votes worked before I went in
• When I messed it up, another nice man had a rubber I could use, so I think I may have achieved my goal of not invalidating my vote
• We have freedom to vote, that’s got to be a good thing
• It was a lovely sunny day
• I had an ice cream

I love variety, and I love having lots of things to do. This Sunday took that to a new extreme. I think I may be the only person in the entire universe, EVER, to have experienced all these things in one day..

Sunday morning: church. Sounds normal, until I mention that there was a bouncy castle (a small one) and the entire congregation was asked to walk around the church and then shout “oi!” and watch the walls fall down. (An illustration for the battle of Jericho, of course..)

Sunday afternoon: lunch with a friend. This was entirely normal, and very nice too.

Sunday afternoon: aerial skills. Learned how to do a basic drop on the silks, which is a very cool feeling. (ie one minute you’re hanging upside down, the next minute you’ve dropped several feet but you’re still very secure and still upside down) . Also did a toe climb on the rope which is kind of cool but leaves a strange sensation between the toes…

Sunday evening: a hip hop gig. Signed up for this with only the vaguest idea of what hip hop is. And to my surprise, enjoyed it. It was a group called “Ugly Duckling”. Very likeable people who don’t take themselves too seriously. AND who hand out free beer.

And THEN just because it was there, we wandered in on the burlesque cabaret evening which was happening in the same venue. Now that was bright and colourful but a bit on the weird side and not quite my kind of thing.

So all in all, a fun-packed and varied day!

Some time last year, my hot water stopped being hot.  I ignored it for a while, because I have an electric shower and I can wash my dishes with hot water from the kettle.  (and possibly also because I’m too lazy to organise repairs and kind of expect things to fix themselves….)

Apparently the problem is the element in the water heater.  The resistance has gone which is why the fuses blow.  My colleagues reckoned it should be easy to fix, and the first step was to drain the hot tank.  So I sussed out which tap to turn off, and then ran the hot taps till they ran no more.  And thought I was very clever.

But little did I realise I had in fact switched off and drained the hot water tank AND the cold water tank.  So the kitchen still had cold running water and the shower still worked, but there was no water at all in the bathroom.  Argh.  Obviously I had to undo my good work with the tap and let the tanks fill up again.  So once again I had running water.  But this time the cold tap was running a bit less enthusiastically, and after a time it stopped running at all, and the toilet cistern no longer filled up.  Hmmm.

And I really really HAD turned back on the tap that I’d turned off, honest.

There was nothing else for it but to call a plumber.  The plumber turned out to be a nice man.  There is something a bit odd about having a stranger in your cupboard…! but he was very easy-going and not in the slightest scary. Within minutes he’d sorted out the cold water.  Apparently it was an air lock.  He fixed it by connecting the hot tap in the sink to the cold tap, and turning the hot tap on.  Clever yet simple.

So I now have running cold water in the bathroom and no longer have to take a bucket to retrieve (cold) water from the hot tap in the bath to refill the cistern!  Whew.

And on Monday the plumber will return with a new element, so with a bit of luck I will once again be able to have a hot bath.

Ooh isn’t civilisation luxurious! I’m SO happy to have cold running water, and looking forward to hot running water!

On Thursday I took a day off work to do all my Christmas shopping. Had quite a successful day, tactically avoiding the busiest places for most of the time.

Went into Borders and was pleased that this time I remembered to use my discount card. Also managed to put a lot of the stuff into my rucksack to avoid being given TWO plastic bags. My flat is FULL of poly bags. I feel I have to recycle them, but there are no recycling points nearby so I end up just keeping them indefinitely. Anyway got a bit distracted by all that…

Then went up the street and found a nice top to buy for my sister. But when I got to the checkout (after a long and slightly hassly queue) I had NO PURSE! AAAARGH! Suddenly realised how vulnerable I am without my plastic, and how I had no idea what number to phone to cancel the cards. The security guard said he’d see if it had been handed in, but it wasn’t looking hopeful.

Went back to Borders on the off-chance I’d left it there. And I had. Hooray!!

And it wasn’t too busy in Borders so the nice man stood chatting to me while a manager was called, as only managers are qualified to perform the ritual of the Returning of The Purse. And the manager was nice too.

So I then went back to the shop where I was attempting to buy the top, and told the security guard that my purse wasn’t lost after all. He was really pleased for me, and then escorted me to the front of the queue so I didn’t have to queue again. So a happy ending to a traumatic event, and lots of interactions with lovely people.

Nice man who phoned to tell me about the Shostakovitch tickets phoned again.  This time I’ve won 2 nights bed and breakfast in a classy hotel/apartment in the Merchant City!

There’s something nice about winning things!