I know what you're going to say, and I'm sorry. You just don't know how much pressure we've been under. I can't find enough hours in the day. Put yourself in my shoes. I wasn't feeling very well. The weather's been terrible. The dog ate it.
We didn't do one last night, okay? OKAY? I'm just putting it out there, plain and simple. We didn't. Ran out of time. And it doesn't matter because we knew this would happen so we only planned 49 things. Ha. In your faces.
But, because I feel bad, I have written a new blog about a toilet for your pleasure. You can find it here.
Tuesday, 8 September 2015
Monday, 7 September 2015
Day Six: Beat your Neighbour
Last night's challenge was one like no other. Where before we've been lighthearted, fun, silly, and at times serious and political, last night got real. It was tense, like an episode of Spooks. It was nail biting, like reading a Grisham thriller. It was, upon reflection, full of those life-defining moments where things change irrevocably but it isn't until afterwards that you realise nothing will ever be the same again.
We played an epic and exciting card game, called Beat your Neighbour. I won't explain the premise of the game here, but you can find detailed instructions here. Suffice to say, allow ample time to read the instructions properly, and maybe watch a video or two on YouTube if you can't find anyone to play with who has played before. It's a tricky, complicated game, with dozens of loopholes and twists and turns (think Puerto Rico or Citadels). It is worth putting in the hours, though, to master this immeasurably exciting game.
Our cards of choice were the inestimable Waddingtons Number 1 Playing Cards (linen finish, of course), which I have to say suited the purpose admirably. As the package details, the cards were made 'according to a comprehensive specification,' to ensure 'perfect cutting and dealing.' I would wholeheartedly agree with this description and can happily confirm that Waddingtons have done as well as they set out to do with this particular set of cards.
The game itself was, as I've already hinted at, full of suspense, bitter rivalry, and painstaking strategising. There is a variety of skills required to be a good player of Beat your Neighbour, and I am happy to say that I appear to have those necessary skills in plentiful supply. No sooner had Tom laid a, let's say Queen, than I returned with a Jack, and Boom! I win the hand! It takes perseverance and practice to get to be as good as I am, but it can be done.
I would urge you to take up this game, as I would say it's every man's game. But be warned, it's not easy, and at times it's not fun due to the high levels of stress and tension that playing it can bring about, but I would say it's worth it for the joy of beating your neighbour. We had a wonderful time, but next time might choose an easier option like Snap or Uno.
We played an epic and exciting card game, called Beat your Neighbour. I won't explain the premise of the game here, but you can find detailed instructions here. Suffice to say, allow ample time to read the instructions properly, and maybe watch a video or two on YouTube if you can't find anyone to play with who has played before. It's a tricky, complicated game, with dozens of loopholes and twists and turns (think Puerto Rico or Citadels). It is worth putting in the hours, though, to master this immeasurably exciting game.
Our cards of choice were the inestimable Waddingtons Number 1 Playing Cards (linen finish, of course), which I have to say suited the purpose admirably. As the package details, the cards were made 'according to a comprehensive specification,' to ensure 'perfect cutting and dealing.' I would wholeheartedly agree with this description and can happily confirm that Waddingtons have done as well as they set out to do with this particular set of cards.
The game itself was, as I've already hinted at, full of suspense, bitter rivalry, and painstaking strategising. There is a variety of skills required to be a good player of Beat your Neighbour, and I am happy to say that I appear to have those necessary skills in plentiful supply. No sooner had Tom laid a, let's say Queen, than I returned with a Jack, and Boom! I win the hand! It takes perseverance and practice to get to be as good as I am, but it can be done.
I would urge you to take up this game, as I would say it's every man's game. But be warned, it's not easy, and at times it's not fun due to the high levels of stress and tension that playing it can bring about, but I would say it's worth it for the joy of beating your neighbour. We had a wonderful time, but next time might choose an easier option like Snap or Uno.
Day Five: Abracadabra!
Meet your Match. Super Skimmer. Crazy Fruit Loops. What do these three have in common? No, they're not the names of a new band of Disney superheroes. They are all card tricks. Our fifth 'fifty things' was to learn a magic trick with which to astound and befuddle each other.
Now, I don't really like magic. I think it's silly and weird and it's not magic is it? It's not actually magical that the card disappears, or that the woman is cut in half, or whatever; it's sleight of hand or distraction or just the magician being cleverer than his audience. If it's more than that, then I think it's a bit sinister and creepy and dangerous. And so I'm not really interested (sorry Phil Dunphy).
But nevertheless one of us suggested this activity for our list, and actually it was a lot of fun. I had that whole giggly embarrassed thing that you got as a child if you were performing a song or doing a little made up play in front of your parents or your classmates. The truth is, even the simplest card tricks were actually quite difficult, which isn't surprising really. It's all acting and confidence.
Tom chose to do a disappearing water trick whereby he claimed he could drink a glass of water that was hidden underneath a hat without touching the hat. Now you can probably see this coming (I didn't), but basically he did a load of stupid things around this hat and then invited me to remove the hat to see his triumph: the empty glass. But of course, when I removed the hat, the glass was still full of water, but not for long. With a look of glee in his eye, Tom picked up the glass and drained it. Nice "magic" trick. Ugh. Smarty pants.
My trick, however, was exceptional. I used my powers of deduction and memory to guess the identity of a particular card within the deck, without looking, after Tom had shuffled the deck to within an inch of its life. It was incredible, and safe to say Tom was completely in awe, bemused and flabbergasted at my skill and ingenuity. (I'm not sure he would agree; take my word for it.)
Anyway so that was that. I have to admit that this activity was probably the funniest and most entertaining one we've done so far. We laughed a lot and that can only be a good thing. You should try it! (But don't ask me for ideas. I will never, ever reveal how I do my tricks) Enjoy!
Now, I don't really like magic. I think it's silly and weird and it's not magic is it? It's not actually magical that the card disappears, or that the woman is cut in half, or whatever; it's sleight of hand or distraction or just the magician being cleverer than his audience. If it's more than that, then I think it's a bit sinister and creepy and dangerous. And so I'm not really interested (sorry Phil Dunphy).
But nevertheless one of us suggested this activity for our list, and actually it was a lot of fun. I had that whole giggly embarrassed thing that you got as a child if you were performing a song or doing a little made up play in front of your parents or your classmates. The truth is, even the simplest card tricks were actually quite difficult, which isn't surprising really. It's all acting and confidence.
Tom chose to do a disappearing water trick whereby he claimed he could drink a glass of water that was hidden underneath a hat without touching the hat. Now you can probably see this coming (I didn't), but basically he did a load of stupid things around this hat and then invited me to remove the hat to see his triumph: the empty glass. But of course, when I removed the hat, the glass was still full of water, but not for long. With a look of glee in his eye, Tom picked up the glass and drained it. Nice "magic" trick. Ugh. Smarty pants.
My trick, however, was exceptional. I used my powers of deduction and memory to guess the identity of a particular card within the deck, without looking, after Tom had shuffled the deck to within an inch of its life. It was incredible, and safe to say Tom was completely in awe, bemused and flabbergasted at my skill and ingenuity. (I'm not sure he would agree; take my word for it.)
Anyway so that was that. I have to admit that this activity was probably the funniest and most entertaining one we've done so far. We laughed a lot and that can only be a good thing. You should try it! (But don't ask me for ideas. I will never, ever reveal how I do my tricks) Enjoy!
Saturday, 5 September 2015
Day Four: Have a takeaway!
A cheeky one yesterday, but since it was the first Friday after the new term began, we chose 'have a takeaway' for our "challenge."
A few days ago I felt like a treat, and thought about buying myself a new coat. Now, I don't need a new coat; I have an obsession with coats so I already own far more than I need. But I convinced myself that I needed this new coat I saw, which cost £50, and that I deserved it, and that it would become a valuable and irreplaceable member of my coat wardrobe. But then, I decided later NO. You DO NOT need a new coat. You have TONS of coats already. Stop being SILLY.
And then....I had a happy thought. I'm £50 up! I have saved £50! Hoorah. I deserve a treat....ooh maybe we could have a takeaway when Tom goes back to work. (Now I know most normal people would just say, 'Let's have a takeaway tonight,' but, well, I'm strange.) I am quite liking this new money saving technique (because that's what it is) and think I will certainly employ it more regularly in the future. Anyway. Hence why we had a takeaway last night. Long (boring) story. Sorry.
The actual takeaway was itself very enjoyable and a lovely treat after getting back into the routine of early starts. It was a bit of a cheat in terms of this Fifty Things thing, as we spent the entire evening on the sofa eating and watching telly, but hey ho. An evening well spent!
A few days ago I felt like a treat, and thought about buying myself a new coat. Now, I don't need a new coat; I have an obsession with coats so I already own far more than I need. But I convinced myself that I needed this new coat I saw, which cost £50, and that I deserved it, and that it would become a valuable and irreplaceable member of my coat wardrobe. But then, I decided later NO. You DO NOT need a new coat. You have TONS of coats already. Stop being SILLY.
And then....I had a happy thought. I'm £50 up! I have saved £50! Hoorah. I deserve a treat....ooh maybe we could have a takeaway when Tom goes back to work. (Now I know most normal people would just say, 'Let's have a takeaway tonight,' but, well, I'm strange.) I am quite liking this new money saving technique (because that's what it is) and think I will certainly employ it more regularly in the future. Anyway. Hence why we had a takeaway last night. Long (boring) story. Sorry.
The actual takeaway was itself very enjoyable and a lovely treat after getting back into the routine of early starts. It was a bit of a cheat in terms of this Fifty Things thing, as we spent the entire evening on the sofa eating and watching telly, but hey ho. An evening well spent!
Friday, 4 September 2015
Day Three: Dear Karl McCartney MP
Dear reader and blogosphere,
Yesterday we opted to write a letter to our venerable MP, Karl McCartney, for our day's 'one thing.'
I knew I would write to him one day. I don't like the man, and I don't like the party he represents. He seems very self important and his campaign running up the election earlier this year was bizarre to say the least (offending and falling out with all the local papers, and the Students' Union of Lincoln Uni, as well as choosing not to appear at a hustings event where all the other candidates attended and put their views forward. I still can't understand how he got in!)
I didn't, however, think I would end up writing to him about a photo. I am embarrassed that it took that photo to push me into action. I am embarrassed that the refugees in Calais were on my mind all day yesterday, but not the day before. I was embarrassed to be part of this country, until yesterday, when a huge surge showed the rest of Europe, 'We're not David Cameron! We are compassionate and big-hearted and don't care what it takes: we will help you.'
It's hard to know what to do though, isn't it? Giving money or donations is good and definitely worth doing, but it's a bit distant and comfortable and easy - I can do that without feeling it, without noticing it. Any fundraising events would be fun and enjoyable and give me a sense of well-being and pride, which conflicts within me because how can I justify that when it contrasts so harshly to what those people are going through in Calais?
I can't help but feel cross though. There are people who are incensed that we as a country are considering taking in more refugees. Why should we feel guilty? they say. It's not our fault, they say. Who cares whose fault it is? I say. There are people in need, real life human people who are just like us, and they need help. They don't need a lot - they need the basics that we all take for granted. I think it's disgusting that some Brits are making themselves feel better with political arguments and excuses. I genuinely think that some people here in the UK believe that these refugees and migrants are a different type of human - completely foolhardy, greedy, deluded and stupid. Utter rubbish. We all need to take a look around - think about it with our eyes and heart open - and stop ignoring the world.
Right, I need to go. Thanks for reading and I'll be in touch again soon.
Yours sincerely,
Danielle
Yesterday we opted to write a letter to our venerable MP, Karl McCartney, for our day's 'one thing.'
I knew I would write to him one day. I don't like the man, and I don't like the party he represents. He seems very self important and his campaign running up the election earlier this year was bizarre to say the least (offending and falling out with all the local papers, and the Students' Union of Lincoln Uni, as well as choosing not to appear at a hustings event where all the other candidates attended and put their views forward. I still can't understand how he got in!)
I didn't, however, think I would end up writing to him about a photo. I am embarrassed that it took that photo to push me into action. I am embarrassed that the refugees in Calais were on my mind all day yesterday, but not the day before. I was embarrassed to be part of this country, until yesterday, when a huge surge showed the rest of Europe, 'We're not David Cameron! We are compassionate and big-hearted and don't care what it takes: we will help you.'
It's hard to know what to do though, isn't it? Giving money or donations is good and definitely worth doing, but it's a bit distant and comfortable and easy - I can do that without feeling it, without noticing it. Any fundraising events would be fun and enjoyable and give me a sense of well-being and pride, which conflicts within me because how can I justify that when it contrasts so harshly to what those people are going through in Calais?
I can't help but feel cross though. There are people who are incensed that we as a country are considering taking in more refugees. Why should we feel guilty? they say. It's not our fault, they say. Who cares whose fault it is? I say. There are people in need, real life human people who are just like us, and they need help. They don't need a lot - they need the basics that we all take for granted. I think it's disgusting that some Brits are making themselves feel better with political arguments and excuses. I genuinely think that some people here in the UK believe that these refugees and migrants are a different type of human - completely foolhardy, greedy, deluded and stupid. Utter rubbish. We all need to take a look around - think about it with our eyes and heart open - and stop ignoring the world.
Right, I need to go. Thanks for reading and I'll be in touch again soon.
Yours sincerely,
Danielle
Thursday, 3 September 2015
Day Two: Newton's English Dictionary
Yesterday's impelling exploit was to learn three intimidatingly impressive new words from the great English language. I wonder if you can guess which three words they are from the plethora of beguiling vocabulary located in the paragraphs below; words espoused and scattered to celebrate language like confetti is scattered to celebrate a wedding.
I heard recently that the English language is one of the most replete and manifold languages on the planet, which is down to our mixed heritage and the fact that we've appropriated and adapted words from other cultures and countries which have now made their way into common English usage*. It's also because English, unlike some other languages, has been written down and recorded for many hundreds of years, so we have a prodigious bank to fall back on of old and ancient words which are dying out, being resurrected, or have been long extinct for some time. If you are interested in etymology, I can heartily recommend Bill Bryson's book 'The Mother Tongue' for an easy to read, informative and enjoyable romp through the journey of the English language. But it has got me thinking that we must, in general, use a negligible proportion of the English language in our day-to-day speech, which should attract public opprobrium.
Maybe if we all endeavoured a little more assiduously? I have a predilection for reading and learning, which with it brings a penchant for word games like crosswords and anagrams. It's puerile but I like knowing things that other people don't know, because I'm asinine and narcissistic like that. So I'm happy to be on the lookout (and sound out?) for new words, but I fear that in then using these words, I would be creating more problems for myself. Why know the meaning of a word like obstreperous? I could use it in a sentence ('My neighbour's obstreperous puppy has made a repugnant mound of mess outside my front door - again.') but no-one, apart from maybe Stephen Hawking or the Queen, or someone even cleverer, would know what I meant (sorry; please don't take offence that I assume you don't know the meaning of the word obstreperous. But you don't, do you?) So really it is unavailing and inopportune, not to mention an uneconomic use of breath and time, to litter ones speech with words such as these, and yet still I find that I want to learn more and more.
I find myself longing, when reading something like Austen or Hardy, that we still spoke like that what they used to do in them olden days of yore. Characters in these books are so expressive, so concise, so efficient and so intelligent in the way they communicate with each other that they can not infrequently do so just using words. They don't need emojis, or descriptions of actions or facial expressions so that the reader knows that they were feeling gorgonized, or blithe or lugubrious. I find, by contrast, that I can scarcely write a text now without finishing it with an emoticon, lest the recipient think unduly that I am being saccharine or sarcastic.
So there we go. Having arrived at our destination - the end of this blog post - how has my use of the English language left you feeling? Because I think it probably hasn't uplifted you, encouraged you or inspired you, which I suppose a good blog post should do. But maybe it has entertained you vaguely, which I suppose will have to do :)
*I can't understand why living in a country so well-stocked and abundant when it comes to diverse people groups and ethnicities is a reality apparently so pestiferous to some. We should surely embrace, celebrate and enjoy the various nationalities that call Great Britain home, and welcome their contributions and enrichment to all aspects of our society and culture, rather than close the doors in Calais and let no one else in. Sorry - can't be avoided today
I heard recently that the English language is one of the most replete and manifold languages on the planet, which is down to our mixed heritage and the fact that we've appropriated and adapted words from other cultures and countries which have now made their way into common English usage*. It's also because English, unlike some other languages, has been written down and recorded for many hundreds of years, so we have a prodigious bank to fall back on of old and ancient words which are dying out, being resurrected, or have been long extinct for some time. If you are interested in etymology, I can heartily recommend Bill Bryson's book 'The Mother Tongue' for an easy to read, informative and enjoyable romp through the journey of the English language. But it has got me thinking that we must, in general, use a negligible proportion of the English language in our day-to-day speech, which should attract public opprobrium.
Maybe if we all endeavoured a little more assiduously? I have a predilection for reading and learning, which with it brings a penchant for word games like crosswords and anagrams. It's puerile but I like knowing things that other people don't know, because I'm asinine and narcissistic like that. So I'm happy to be on the lookout (and sound out?) for new words, but I fear that in then using these words, I would be creating more problems for myself. Why know the meaning of a word like obstreperous? I could use it in a sentence ('My neighbour's obstreperous puppy has made a repugnant mound of mess outside my front door - again.') but no-one, apart from maybe Stephen Hawking or the Queen, or someone even cleverer, would know what I meant (sorry; please don't take offence that I assume you don't know the meaning of the word obstreperous. But you don't, do you?) So really it is unavailing and inopportune, not to mention an uneconomic use of breath and time, to litter ones speech with words such as these, and yet still I find that I want to learn more and more.
I find myself longing, when reading something like Austen or Hardy, that we still spoke like that what they used to do in them olden days of yore. Characters in these books are so expressive, so concise, so efficient and so intelligent in the way they communicate with each other that they can not infrequently do so just using words. They don't need emojis, or descriptions of actions or facial expressions so that the reader knows that they were feeling gorgonized, or blithe or lugubrious. I find, by contrast, that I can scarcely write a text now without finishing it with an emoticon, lest the recipient think unduly that I am being saccharine or sarcastic.
So there we go. Having arrived at our destination - the end of this blog post - how has my use of the English language left you feeling? Because I think it probably hasn't uplifted you, encouraged you or inspired you, which I suppose a good blog post should do. But maybe it has entertained you vaguely, which I suppose will have to do :)
*I can't understand why living in a country so well-stocked and abundant when it comes to diverse people groups and ethnicities is a reality apparently so pestiferous to some. We should surely embrace, celebrate and enjoy the various nationalities that call Great Britain home, and welcome their contributions and enrichment to all aspects of our society and culture, rather than close the doors in Calais and let no one else in. Sorry - can't be avoided today
Wednesday, 2 September 2015
Day One: Play a goofy drawing game
So our fun has officially begun! Hoorah! We had a very busy day yesterday what with family visiting, and with Tom getting ready for the new term which started today, so it wasn't until later on in the evening (well, my version of later on - it was probably actually only about 8:30pm) that we finally got round to choosing something off our list.
Our first choice was a game, catchily called the 'Drawing with your Eyes Closed' game. In case you can't work out how the game works, basically you close your eyes and draw someone and the other person has to guess who it is. Great fun! I think it was first invented about 15 years ago by my friend Hannah (so if you're reading this Hannah, your game-inventing skills speak for themselves).
Drawing with your Eyes Closed is a very silly game but I will let you judge for yourselves...
Our first choice was a game, catchily called the 'Drawing with your Eyes Closed' game. In case you can't work out how the game works, basically you close your eyes and draw someone and the other person has to guess who it is. Great fun! I think it was first invented about 15 years ago by my friend Hannah (so if you're reading this Hannah, your game-inventing skills speak for themselves).
Drawing with your Eyes Closed is a very silly game but I will let you judge for yourselves...
I am pretty certain that these samples have barely made you smile, let alone giggle like we did last night, which just goes to show that this is definitely one of those 'had to be there' type games.
So there we go - that's Day One; done! I wonder what Day Two will bring....
PS. I said some of the items on our list weren't particularly interesting didn't I!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)