*DIES FROM SHEER DELIGHT*
Great yet understated feature of this video: no narration.
Thanks Nat Po for the most amazing internet find today!
09/08/2010
03/25/2010
03/24/2010
03/15/2010
Role change
How time sneaks up on you! 2 years ago I was the youngest person on my team at work (except for Rebecca but she is already married with kids so doesn't count), I was the one who sought out parents' friends across the world to get a free bed for the night. I was the one who lent on my parents for support. Suddenly, with little or no warning this has all changed.
My father just went home after a week of staying with us. I cooked, cleaned, planned, orchestrated activities - even gave him some money for the airport. And then before he had even left a gap year student with a tenuous link to the lovely Eugenie shows up at my door step. She's just traveling through - she needs a bed. And what a delight to chill with an 18 year old. If only they didn't make you realize just how old you are and how eccentric you've become.
Tilly, 18, stayed with Jake and I for 3 nights. Jake and I spend most of the time talking about (when we weren't talking directly to) our new seedlings which have recently sprouted much to our joy. We talked about acquiring and positioning our new furniture. These are the least concerns of an 18 year old - and it dawned on me that I am now... well kinda old.
I'm not even young at work any more. Having been sort of a rising wunderkind at my last job I am now stagnating in the stodge of low to middle management. How did this happen?
But then again, what's the great hurry?
02/25/2010
10/10/2009
good friends
The weirdest thing... i can not see friends for years and years and when I do one of the first things they ask me is often "do your parents still live in Hinton Parva?" The strange name of this sleepy hamlet in the Wiltshire countryside, for some reason, remains with people long after they have forgotten even my name.
For me there were two wonderful things about Hinton Parva growing up. One was the orchard and stream (creek) that ran through the massive garden we had out back. The other was the Eames family. Becky Eames was the light of my life every weekend and later, after we were both sent to boarding school, every school holiday. Becky was great for a number of reasons. Of course, she was fun to hang out with and all that but she also had the Barbie house, that try (whine) as I may I never got my parents to buy me. She also had a Ken AND the car (or may be the horse and carriage - I forget) Anyway, it was totally awesome.
We met when we were 6. I was twice the size and twice as bossy as I am even today. She had an older brother called Chris, who was also good for filling the roles in the plays we put on and making even our most outrageous plans a reality. Without Chris we never would have made it to Glastonbury age 16 for instance, for which I will always be grateful.
Then her parents separated. They moved away from the village and my contact with her waned while I focussed on myself for about 10 years. My news of her grew more and more scarce until I was reliant on news of her via her mother's Christmas cards to my mother. She had got married and had two children while I was away at university,
Coming to SF, reduced the focus I had on my social life before but it also forced me to take stock and review the friends I had. I had thought about Becky often for over 12 years and always on her birthday on 2nd April every year. I had not been in touch thinking may be too much time had elapsed. One night I resolved to find her. I trudged through facebook profiles and endless web pages, not knowing her married name. Then suddenly I found her: a picture of her with her two beautiful boys and I sent her a message, not knowing what I would get in return, if anything.
Weeks past and then suddenly there was a lovely message from my good friend Becky. We agreed to meet for tea. On my latest trip back to the UK my mum and I went to see her and her family. There she was, beautiful, confident, responsible, and calm, with her two children, one who was the age we were when we met. it was so wonderful to see her. Really a highlight to my trip and one I hope to repeat. Wondering who I should look up next,,,,
09/13/2009
Muscle cars, speed boats chez Jake.
So, my last post was about the pace of life in Iowa. Of course there are ways to take it up a notch. Jake's father Gregg, for example, takes the shells of seemingly ordinary cars and fits them with engines that are usually reserved for rocket launches. Then he takes them out of hearing range of the dopey local cops, revs them until your vision blurs and your eardrums implode and then sets it into gear leaving half the tires on the road behind him. "That's what I do for fun" he says with a mischievous grin on his face as I nurse my whiplashed neck.
When they are not on the road they on on the water. The Mississippi is the water equivalent of the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah. If you are going to drive your boat fast this would be a great place to do it! The Hawleys kindly took me on a more sedate trip on their fishing boat.
The Pearl of the Mississippi
Muscatine, Iowa. Long has this little town on the banks of the Mississippi been fabled in my relationship with Jake. This is where he grew up and where his family have existed seemingly forever. (That's about 4 generations in US terms)
This is a sleepy place where there is apparently no strife or suffering, no need for exertion or strenuous effort. No matter what is going on in the world outside ( and it's easy to forget in Iowa that there is such a thing as any where else in the world) Muscatine trundles on, unperturbed
Jake and I returned today from our first trip to Iowa together. My encounters with his parents had been limited until this point to awkwardly waving at each other over a Skype video screen. This was also my first trip into the Mid West.
Some of Jake's friends were curious as to my perceptions of the place. I think they were looking for some approbation that they made the right decision in staying to raise their families there. But it was difficult to give them an insightful response. I just couldn't find any decent and mutual benchmarks. It really is so very different.
In September the heat is wearing off, but the stupefying
Jake's were some of the kindest, and most unassuming I have met. Their lack of attitude and pretense is a refreshing relief from city life. The only drawback of Mid Western living seems to be the absence of adrenaline. Life seems almost too easy here.
As Jake found out on his 30th birthday (I treated him to a trip around the local museum - yes, it was free) Muscatine has a pretty cool history. It is most famous for the production of pearl buttons made from the river clams that lined the beds of the Mississippi. Some German dude called Boepple set up shop here in 1830 something which soon blossomed into a hugely successful industry, producing 1 in every 4 pearl buttons in the world at some points . This earned the town the name "the Pearl of the Mississippi". Even though plastic buttons put them out of business in the 1950's Jake still used to find clam shells with 4 perfectly drilled holes washed up on the banks as a child.
In all Muscatine was a good introduction to Mid Western life - I feel like I have returned from a parallel universe - I am worried adjusting to San Francisco pace again tomorrow might be a little challenging - but it certainly removed me totally from my daily neuroses here and showed me a totally different America, one I had only read about and not really believed until this point. Now, I get it.
09/01/2009
How to do business!
Today we, TypePad, did an integration with a cool company called FormSpring. They let you make cute forms to capture info from visitors to your blog. We launched this morning and then 5 minutes later this arrives!
Now that's how to do business!
08/06/2009
bloody brilliant!
This is one of the most awesome collections of english-isms for Americans I have ever seen. Truly an insight into all the funny things we say - I had no idea half of these didn't translate! Oops!
