Saturday, 31 August 2013

A story of lunch

Today marks the final day of August. I have finally had a day to myself and the majority of it was spent on hold listening to weird and wonderful 'on hold' music and apologetic messages informing me that I was next in line to speak to the friendly customer service representative who would be able to solve all my worldly worries and provide me with the answer to life. Well, not quite. But I did indeed spent the most part of today on hold to various broadband providers and to Orange customer services feeling rather frustrated as I had intended to spend today catching up with myself, going to the gym, and calling a good friend for a catch up. I did get to the gym eventually - always look for the positive!

The positive also is that I eventually got everything sorted. However, I found myself increasingly feeling all kinds of negative feelings toward the poor people on the receiving end of my phone calls. I then asked myself, why, oh why am I training in a career which relies on people and communication when people are exactly who I'd like to avoid right now! Sure enough, I am training to help people and in this situation, I was the one seeking help. But people are people. Regardless of what the situation is, we will inevitably encounter those who we never wish to let go, and those who for some unidentified reason, simply do not 'gel' with us.

For instance, I sat down to lunch one day this week and was joined by three other people. I like to think of myself as being fairly open and accepting. But at the end of this lunch, I challenged this assumption and wondered if my feelings were justified or if I simply have to learn a little patience. Four of us sat down with our meals. After fifteen minutes, three of us had completed every last piece of food on our plates and not spoken a word. The fourth had not even picked up her cutlery and had a full plate of food due to her not pausing in her speaking and not even interacting with anyone else on the table. I wish to goodness that I can be the person who accepts and welcomes this person regardless, but I guess it's about the filtered response rather than the immediate feelings. I am human. We are all human in fact. I don't 'gel' with everyone, not everyone gels with me; but the basic principles of respect and kindness (I like to hope...) should always be present. No human being deserves to be disrespected, even if they do take up the entire lunch break with their own monologue.

Back to basics - even the principle of a lunch break is a relative novelty for me now. Coming from student life, sessional work, and modelling work, the last time I had a designated  'lunch break' was a good few years ago when I worked a part time job in retail (never again!!!). It seems that these days, a lunch break is not a regularly used phrase in my vocabulary. But this week I have been training for my new job as a disability support worker at my University, so an hours lunch break has been given each week and it has been oddly welcomed. The training has been good... We've covered all things relating to disability from physical, learning, mental health issues, health conditions... I am really looking forward to beginning the job. it will be nice to be back in a job of substance. A lot of new information, new regulations, and new people. But I am looking forward to it.

Tomorrow is September. And change has begun

Monday, 26 August 2013

The sky is blue and the grass is green

This weekend is a bank holiday weekend and I have now returned to the beautiful world of the North. I start training for my new job tomorrow so it feels like tomorrow is the beginning of the new beginning. The first of the firsts. From now onwards, the coming weeks shall be filled with new challenges and new things to learn and adapt to. I'm ready. And I have absolutely made the most of my last day off.

Yesterday evening I was no sooner back in York before I was in the car again heading to Harrogate to my boyfriend's gig. En route, we somehow managed to spontaneously stop at a fairground and decide to go and enjoy some Asian cuisine before the gig. I very much appreciated an evening in my own bed, and woke up this morning to more glorious sunshine so I began writing what I hope (in time) might evolve into my very own recipe book, I went grocery shopping, and spontaneously met a good friend in town where we shopped and sat in the museum gardens in the sunshine with macaroons and iced coffee contemplating both of our lives. I then spent the evening baking and attempting to create my new recipe, accompanied with some music in my kitchen. And of course, I finally went for a really ridiculously refreshing 6km run this evening. It was great to go running simply because I wanted to, not because I'd be plagued with guilt if I failed to do so.

I shall always appreciate days like today - always. It's been the small details. I have quite literally spent over a week travelling around the North and South of this country. Without a doubt, it has been marvelous and beautiful. Yet I return home for one day and as much as I've had a fantastic time away and I really was not quite ready to come home, there is no feeling that can replace the one of sitting with a good friend in a beautiful and familiar place such as your hometown, watching the world pass by and knowing that just as the sky is blue and the grass is green, that everything IS ok.

As I was walking through Kings Cross train station yesterday, I saw an advertisement which prompted me to tweet the following: 'if the small things make the biggest difference, who's to say they are small things at all?'

Sunday, 25 August 2013

Southern trip, day five

I took two photographs because it rained ALL day. Really, it rained all day.. I spent the morning walking with Amber to work, drinking coffee in Dover, then purchasing a polka dot umbrella and travelling back for an hour on the train back to Tunbridge Wells. I went for a run (yes, in the rain) - it was quite nice and liberating and refreshing but then after approximately 2.9 miles, the refreshing rain droplets turned into what I consider to be a torrential rain storm. This meant I could barely see where I was running and I was soaked, so consequently I took shelter in the park, became a little chilly, and then once the rain eased off I continued my run again. All in all, it was a good run; I really needed it. Not my body. My body could have managed perfectly well without the run, but my mind. My mind felt better. So I arrived back, had a bath, sorted a few things out and watched some Grey's Anatomy, watched the rain, listened to the rain, read a book... watched some more Grey's Anatomy, and decided I was shattered.

A particularly uneventful day. But I watched the 'George's dad' episode of Grey's Anatomy, which more than makes up for the lack of sunshine in the sky.

Saturday, 24 August 2013

Sculpture parks and water droplets

I am posting really only to note some particularly striking words which have remained in my head since I read them a week ago today up in Alnwick Castle Gardens. There are many beautiful gardens there, one of which is a water sculpture garden. This is also a little ironic considering I've just tweeted that I am a little unnerved when looking at photographs of underwater sculptures. I'm sure I can't be the only one who finds these a little creepy!? Anyway - keeping with the topic, thankfully the sculpture garden only exhibited sculptures on ground level; no underwater surprises. One of the sculptures exhibited in the garden was almost shaped like a well in the ground, and was built to forcefully sprout water up in the same way a fountain might do. The water droplets stuck to the glass topped 'well' before they fell back below. I probably haven't given a brilliant description there... But of course, like every worth-while informative exhibition, there were some words adjacent to the sculpture to explain its meaning and origin. These words I read over again and have even taken note of them.

'This sculpture shows droplets bursting and radiating, changing and transmuting as they travel to the outer limits of their world, until they reach a moment at which they appear unable to hold on any longer, and reluctantly drop into the abyss below.'

I had to double-check I had read these words correctly because to describe a sculpture of such hardened ferocity; the solidity of the stone and glass combined with the force and speed of the water.. It seemed quite incongruous when comparing the speed of movement, the noise, and the shape of the structure with the beautiful words used. I watched as the water collided with the glass topped 'well' before it abruptly and prematurely ended its only short experience of peacefulness. I then thought about perspective of the observer, the perspective of the creater, and (oddly) the perspective of each droplet of water. I guess this is why I re-read and I understood a little more.

The way we view life is often through tinted vision - that if we were to stop and read someone else's account of the exact same incident that we experienced, our entire world would be opened up to a new way of thinking - a new perspective. A subjectively lived experience. I then thought about the water droplets. They really did hold on for as long as they could until the inevitable (gravity) became a higher force than their entire being. They resisted. They fought. How much longer can any of us resist and fight the inevitable? Is there any point in fighting at all when we all fall down anyway? Or is it that the real journey and spirit is in the fight? That it shows integrity and autonomy and self-sufficiency. I see that and I believe that the fight can be a good fight if we make it so. But having seen a fight be the not-so-good type and having an understanding of the blurred line between the good and the bad - it does lead to a question of whether a fight is worth fighting at all.

Southern trip, day four: Dover

Yesterday I took a trip to Dover to visit the wonderful human being that is Amber. I stayed the night there and together we adventured (finally!) up the infamous white cliffs of Dover, backpack each on our backs filled with picnic goodies and a blanket. We climbed - yes, I mean climbed. Those cliffs are a steep climb up, not a particularly easy or simple challenge when sporting the 'sandals in the summer' look on your feet. So we reached the top, aiming to watch the sun set. Either we were too engrossed in conversation, we were enjoying our picnic, or the sky was too misty to watch the sun. But the sky was soon pitch black; we somehow missed the sun and the beautiful colours in the sky but we had successfully freely watched the world pass us by. Quite literally, we sat in peace with such a distance from the noisy hustle and bustle below on the windy clifftops and we watched the ferries and the lorries and cars come in and out of Dover's Port, watching the world and each person on their journey below.

The journey back to the town was not quite as beautiful. It was in fact quite a terrifying walk to remember. It was dark, there was ample opportunity for any kind of strange and mysterious disappearing to happen and yes, my mind was working wonders at illustrating a perfectly viable (and horrific) narrative as I tried my best to remain composed whilst gripping Amber's hand for the entire journey back to safety! Thank goodness Amber could remember to breathe and keep calm. This is not a journey I wish to repeat. However, adventures are not adventures if not for a little risk taking and trust.

Thursday, 22 August 2013

Southern trip, day three: Brighton

Today I had the day to myself so I decided to go somewhere I've never been before: Brighton. I hear a lot about this town. Lots of friends go there and I hear only good things. I adored this place so much that I didn't even want to leave. I stayed until the last bus departed to take me back. I'm sure that the sun contributed to my enjoyment of the day, but it was a really great surprise and most definitely a day in which acting spontaneously paid off. I didn't expect to instantly feel happy there, but I arrived, explored the town, the beach, and the pavilions, and felt content.

So, whilst harboring the acceptance that 'carpe-ing the diem' isn't always as simple as it sounds, today, adopting the mantra of 'Carpe diem' (remembering that I am away) was a significantly more realistic concept. Today was a day of aloneness (the good type), spontaneity, book reading, writing, a lot of people watching, discovering hidden away vegetarian cafes, and an abundance of photographs of course.

Wednesday, 21 August 2013

Southern trip, day two

Day two of my adventures in the South. I've been running and eating good food and drinking good coffee and exploring whilst spending some time with my Grandmother and my Great Aunt. My legs are stiff and I have a significantly impressive number of freckles re-emerging on my face. I'm so thankful that the weather is this beautiful. It's definitely the small things that make the biggest difference...

Southern trip, day one

Today my mother and sister have flown to Spain and I have time off this week before training for my new job commences next week, therefore I am in the South of England. I walked what I roughly calculate to be a 10 mile round trip over the cliffs and beaches near Eastbourne/Beachy Head/Birling Gap. We got back after the sun set, which meant I didn't go for a run; not that I needed to after our hiking efforts! It also meant that during our drive back to Kent I was witness to the most incredible colours in the sky due to the sun setting rather gloriously right in front of us. I don't know why the colours were so different this evening. Lots of oranges and reds and pinks - rather like a less Eastern European version of the sunset over the Bosphorus sea through the centre of Istanbul. Bearing in mind, it would take something of supernatural strength to outrival these sights of Istanbul, so South England certainly rose to the occasion.

Here are some pictures of our walks - mainly of the sea and sun. The sights were too spectacular not to capture.

Monday, 19 August 2013


Sometimes it truly does take the words of someone else in order for us to gain perspective; to see things as we might do if our mind wasn't so clouded with our perceived 'better judgement'. Notice the irony in 'better judgement' here as usually when the mind is so clouded and foggy we are absolutely and categorically unable to see black from white at times. Or rather we see black and white very sharply and clearly; it's the inbetween shaded areas which are near impossible to detect.

The words of another human being hold a lot of power if we are open to listening and taking them in. The words don't even have to come from a long-standing trustworthy friend. Sometimes they hold as much meaning as they do coming from a stranger who mentioned something in a fleeting moment, perhaps not even directly to you. Just words that you happened to hear and take in. We are of course prone to selective hearing, and the message we take is without a doubt only our own subjective perception of the original intent of the words. However, I'm hearing these words more so lately than ever before. Words from a friend which served to illustrate the preciousness of time and the irreversable nature of time are the main reason behind this blog post. But there are messages and reminders that fall inbetween the cracks - that so many, including myself are too quick to unknowingly discount. Perhaps now I'm not so rushed and my head doesn't feel like a pressure tank ready to explode, my mind is able to breathe and notice the things I might otherwise overlook. Or maybe I'm just searching for messages - searching for a greater meaning - searching for knowledge, an indication, a sign. Something out there that has a greater meaning and power than myself, only to realize that the only power and meaning lie precisely in the place i didn't look - myself. Whatever it is, it is there. Sometimes.

I began this summer head-on. Pushing forward, creating change, making things happen. I said that this was the summer of change.  downright refusing to stop. Refusing to take a break, refusing to accept help, refusing my mind and body the space and energy to even breathe. But everything I set out to do/organize/put in place has been done. Which feels odd to say, but it has been done. So now I'm playing the old waiting game. Waiting for things to kick in. Waiting for things to begin. But all these words from people - all the messages and words have been floating around in my mind, staying with me, and it's clicked into place. Now is the time to not feel impatient waiting, but to go with it. 

So 'going with it' I am. I arrived back late last night and I'm currently passing through Peterborough on a train down to the South of England now, and booking a trip to Rome. I am not doing what's right for my savings account, but I am doing what's right for my soul. There are seven days left until training for my new job begins, less than a month until my Masters, and other new and exciting projects in the pipeline too. 

This train ride isn't too bad... I could really, really do with a soy cappuccino though. 

Northumberland roadtrip

I have just returned back home in York from a weekend roadtripping around Northumberland. Being a Norther being, I have been many times before; I particularly remember a holiday to Holy Island and being fascinated with the tidal movements and the courseway. For some reason my appreciation for natural beauty is growing more and more. Perhaps this is a sign of life in the mid-twenties and no longer being a sulking teenager begrudgingly being dragged around the hills and rocks and mountains with a Mother, Grandmother, and three younger siblings running riot. So this trip I was really able to take in the scenery and enjoy being away with the boyfriend. Northumberland is a somewhat large area of the North East of England and it is home to some of the most breathtaking views (in my opinion!)

There is something about the sun and the water that is really quite stunning. Stunning doesn't quite do it justice... Not by a long shot. The scenery is beautiful. Not even photographs can really capture the elegance and strength of our views - that is, unless you have my boyfriend's camera, in which case you'd capture some really amazing shots compared to the slightly fading in comparison camera of the iPhone. Note to self for next time: Bring your camera and don't rely on your iPhone! I did get some great pictures nonetheless. 

We spent some time on Holy Island, Alnwick, and briefly stopped off in Durham on the road back home to enjoy the most incredible Thai and Asian cuisine. 

Friday, 16 August 2013

We are not supernatural beings

Three days ago my Mother gently (or not so gently) reminded me that I was being too negative. She speculated that this was due to my impatience and my inability to form a positive relationship with the concept of 'time off' - a particularly pronounced observation in a job in which your work schedule is managed by your agent and not yourself. Therefore, there is only a certain amount of control I have over when I do/don't work, and it is all too easy to self-criticize when working in an industry where the amount of jobs booked is based wholly upon the desirability and appeal of your appearance. For instance, I look good therefore I work more; Not a great or healthy cycle of thought to get stuck in as I'm sure most would agree.

So, three days ago my mother rightly pointed out my negativity. And this evening I recognized it again. So I stopped myself mid-sentence and stated that I shouldn't be giving out such negative energy - negativity breeds negativity and such. This is not a message I wanted to put out there. To which my friend laughed and called me Gandhi... And I laughed. My friend and I laughed at both the absurdity and the truth of my comments. We were right to laugh. It is true because what good comes from hostility and bitterness? We can only create positive change if we embody a positive mindset. However, we are not supernatural beings. We are mere human beings, so is it not a little absurd and unattainable to expect such wondrous thoughts all the time? Is it not human nature to experience both the good and bad? Light and dark. The hopeless and the hopeful.

Wednesday, 14 August 2013


'We are pushed into a lot of phoney 'togetherness' that I resent. But there is a real being-together that no one has to be pushed into because it springs immediately from ourselves.'

- Barry Stevens

I have been reading - as one does on days off when tasks of real substance have all been completed. I have been reading about human beings. About being real, being present, being open-minded. Just 'being'. Even just learning to 'be' is an art that is ironically not as simple as it seems, yet when mastered, it acts as an opening to a new part of the world that is a never ending land of process and life... It can make being with others something of a real encounter rather than a forced attempt at conversation or a self-defeating interaction in which one person adapts their being in efforts to meet their perceived 'expectations' of the other, and vice versa. Or alternatively, perhaps the one we might be least aware of ourselves, we attempt to hide or mask the parts of ourselves that we dislike - the parts we fear others will reject. This extract is a nice way of illustrating that ironically, learning to 'be' can produce the most energy and movement, simply because we are no longer trying to be anything other than who we already are.

Tuesday, 13 August 2013

Free spirited Monday

Today, for the most part, has been spent completely unintentionally embracing my inner free spirited being. It has been a day for the soul. A 25km cycle followed by a walk in the rain, a trip to the local charity shops with my sister to source out some jeans for her (which resulted in a pair of rather beautiful new trousers rather than jeans). Then some vegan baking of two loafs of fresh dairy-free and low fat banana and raisin bread, and a yoga class this evening. I made a joke earlier that today couldn't have been more 'hippy' if I'd have tried.

I'm not sure free spirited days for the soul get any more soul pleasing than this. It's been so much so that I have now completely and utterly accepted the fact that I kindly paid a £143 phone bill to Orange today... You know, letting it be..

Sunday, 11 August 2013

The Grandmother visits

One night this week we had a rare but beautiful evening. I have lived in York for two years now - in my own place, living a very self-sufficient life, generally keeping family contact to a minimum, not because I don't want them around but simply because everybody lives very diverse and busy lives. Plus, my mother's message of 'go forth into the world and be' was very much one which held no bounds in encouraging self-sufficiency, responsibility, resilience, and independence. As a result, there remains one small box of my childhood 'treasures' in the attic at my Mum's house and consequently I've developed very thick skin which has served a great purpose in all areas of life. In addition, I have to admit it's been indescribably empowering, if not a little daunting to establish my own way of living without the additional pressures and familiarities of such close relatives constantly being present. I have, without a doubt begun expanding my life in the ways I wish to.

Anyway, I digress. One evening this week I hosted dinner for my mother, my sister, and my Nan (who has been in Yorkshire visiting from Kent). I say this was a rare occasion because in two years this is the first time we've ever done this. My Nan rarely visits the North, my Mother has visited me three times in two years (including this week), and me making dinner for others is a rarity in itself due to my unhealthy health obsession and my inability to define a 'normal' portion or substantial meal for that matter! So I'm writing about it because it seems like these days it's not only rare for my family and I to get together like this, but it seems rare for families to really enjoy time spent together at all. There was no fake happiness or uncomfortable conversation. It simply was as it was. It was genuine and it was lovely. There was a lot of love. We ate the fresh food that I'd prepared (they were very appreciative and complementary of my cooking), drank wine, and sat in the candlelit garden until late evening by which time my poor grandmother must have been so tired she probably could have quite easily fallen asleep there and then if I poured her another glass of wine.

I remember writing a year or so ago that families are odd units, joined by the wonders of science and genetics, living in a house together, our first human contact being each other... Loving and hating and everything inbetween. There's an unspoken bond or code between family members but it's still up to us how we act upon that definitive bond. We form relationships that hopefully work for us and function in some way or another; creating as much distance as humanly possible or sharing the same lives for years on end. I had written that families are odd concepts; they have the power to both build us and break us. However, what I failed to write, was that ultimately that power is in our hands. We call the shots. No one can determine our choices and responses but ourselves. Families do build us and break us apart, but whether we let them - that's up to us. I choose to let people build me.

So what I'm saying is that this evening was special. Maybe I'm valuing family in a different way now I'm a little older. Or maybe I'm just finally learning the art of allowing the moment to be enjoyed.

Wednesday, 7 August 2013

Silver linings and weddings

Over a week late - but better late than never. I have been meaning to post about last weekends happenings but it's taken me over a week to sit down and begin typing. I have been faced with the knowledge that a standard somewhat rushed post wouldn't do the weekend any justice whatsoever. But I realize that whatever I post, I will struggle to articulate just how beautiful the weekend was. Beauty can never be correctly and accurately articulated; beauty is what we see and feel and sometimes, as I remember we discussed on the night, there really are no words. Even the most wonderfully articulate beings can only illustrate it as their own eyes and mind experience it. Beauty is so perceptive and individual - so much so that to attempt to objectify through the usage of words which each posses such a solid definition is a literary admirable endevour but artistically a difficult task. I guess that's why we take photographs. That indefinable nature is what explains the unexplainable moments that happen to take your breath away.

From start to finish everything about this weekend just seemed to be right. I went to Derbyshire to the wedding of one of our friends from high school. Not only does this mean that now I have reached the grand age of 24 I seem to be approaching the new stage of life that is exciting and liberating and almost feels like being born again, but of course with great things come great responsibility. Adulthood I believe it is. Weddings seem to be a very mid-twenties thing to do, and it most certainly felt this way as we checked into the hotel and discussed weddings and marriage and life.

Other than the realization (and acceptance) that impending adulthood is no longer a distant vision in the future but a very here-and-now real reality, the wedding was simply beautiful. Not only the beautiful location of Tutbury castle, the sun, and the surroundings, but the company too. It was nice to spend a meaningful amount of time with good friends who I only ever get a very limited length of time with before the clock moves forward and life drags us away again. I guess that's the beauty of being away somewhere - there are no other commitments; only the commitment to be. To be present and to enjoy. I think this concept of 'being' can be (at least for me) the most challenging task yet the most soulful experience.

We stood outdoors at the top of the ruins of the old castle and we sat on the rocks with our glasses of wine and watched the sunset. Well, we watched people - the wedding guests and the newly weds. And we also watched the sun as it sunk further down towards the horizon until almost the entire sky had turned pink, the sun turned a warmer shade of orange, and something I had never noticed before - the few clouds that surrounded the sun were lined with a silver lining. A real silver lining.  Now the sunset is something I talk/write about a lot and admittedly it seems a ridiculously light and fluffy and pink topic to write about. I even cringe a little because that's not how it is for me. Yet I mention a sunset and that's the image most people will conjure up in their minds as they picture being mindful and meditative and praying to the gods of the earth and the sun whilst wearing daisy chains. It's not quite that bad! I just think certain moments are made to be seen. Certain moments are for the soul. And when sat with friends infront of a sky of silver lined clouds and the most incredible view, where else in the world would you rather be?

Sunday, 4 August 2013

A trip to Nidd Hall

Nidd Hall - one of the many reasons why living in England, particularly Yorkshire is very, very enjoyable and  not only aesthetically pleasing, but pleasing to both the heart and the soul. There is so much beauty all around us. Today my mother treated me to a spa day as a celebration of my degree result. We not only well and truly relaxed and felt wonderful, but we ventured round the exquisitely perfected and groomed grounds of the hall - water gardens, lakes, views... My mum enjoyed it and needed it just as much as I did, if not more. We soaked in the sun rays, (perhaps my ginger freckled skin soaked them in just a little too enthusiastically) we enjoyed a deliciously healthy lunch, and spent some time catching up. 

Meanwhile, throughout the duration of the day I managed to misplace three items - I just left my belongings scattered along behind me like a trail, only to be realized much later and then collected by my Mother. My denim jacket, my makeup bag, and my sunglasses, all of which I would never usually leave behind anywhere, least of all in a public open space. I am a very responsible and sufficient human being. My mother reminded me that for whatever reason, when one is with their mother, we are prone to somehow thinking that we no longer need to take responsibility - that's a mother's role. So of course, naturally, I leave a trail of these items around the place because although I'm twenty four years of age - I have a degree, a job, a house, and a car; I am still, at times, incapable of taking responsibility for the most basic of items in my handbag when with my mother.

I have now returned home, all items with me. And both my heart and soul are revived.

Saturday, 3 August 2013

August, aloneness, and the storm

It's another Friday. It's August 2nd and it is now what seems like the premature beginning of the end of summer. If we can call freak storms, rain, grey skies, blue skies, white skies, pink skies, orange skies, and of course, an unusually generous (and very much welcomed) gift of sunshine, blue skies, and overheated cars. The title of this blog post is really quite misleading. Aloneness and the storm... It seems somewhat dramatic for my reflection of today which actually has a sense of gratification rather than the suggested melancholic tone.

Today was spent with a lot of people. I am always astounded how one person can be so completely content and at peace both alone and in the company of others. For one who likes nothing more than aloneness and space, I tend to surround myself with a great number of people and be working towards a career which is essentially about human beings helping other human beings - about connections and relationships. There are various quoted individuals, some of whom state that man is only ever in this world alone; we are born alone, we die alone, and all we ever have is ourselves. However, others speak of quite the opposite attitude, declaring that man is never alone - that loneliness is a feeling; a very real feeling nonetheless. But true aloneness is never a reality. No man is an island entirely onto himself. I wonder how both realities can exist in the same world.. But then I look at myself and I look at others and I see that they do. It's all about perspective.

I spent the morning with my boyfriend and his mother, the afternoon with a good friend, my own mother, and my sister, and this evening with the company of me, myself, the rain, and my running shoes. Oh, and a cup of tea and Grey's Anatomy as I write this blog post. I arrived back in York at dusk and decided once an epic summer storm descended that it of course it was the perfect opportunity to go out for a run. After spending the day doing various bits and pieces, fulfilling my sisterly and daughterly duties, and sifting through the remaining boxes of my belongings in the attic at my mum's house, this night time rainy run was without a doubt, the most satisfying way to end the day. The rain did ease off and I could see where I was running, thank goodness - otherwise the decision may have been one based on nothing more than sheer madness. Sometimes madness pays off though. Sometimes the benefits far outweigh the cost, even in the case of absurdity. I am now eagerly awaiting the next evening rainfall so I can go out running again.