Big Dog House

BACKGROUND INFORMATION TO THE STORY:

In a last couple of weeks our housemate was giving us slight hints about her intention to bring her dog over, such as placing a framed picture of her dog on the dining room table. Since we knew that her dog rearing abilities were earlier proved very poor, we were not too keen to agree. At the same time me and Spider, being nice people, we did not feel we can turn her down straight away, so we agreed on a trial period.

So, there they were yesterday evening, Jenny & Jossie, the former being our housemate, the latter being our new housepet.

Jossie is a kind of undetermined dog breed, or at least I cannot determine it using my best canine knowledge. What I know for sure is that she is fat and spoiled, but still quite adorable creature.

And for all of you, who don't want to miss out on this, I set up this weblog diary where I will be posting daily updates from the Big Dog House.

Big Dog House, Day 1

The trial started rather catastrophically. What happened was exactly what I feared would happen. Since Jenny's room is next to mine and the walls are paper-thin, I can always hear when she wakes up and gets ready to go to work. Think what you want, but particularly on the first morning I wanted to have a look into how it will all work, how will she manage to go out with the dog before going to work for 9am so I was listening to what is going on next door.

8:00 Signs of movement there, marching down the stairs to the bathroom to have a shower.

About ten minutes later: I go down to the loo and meet jossie on the stairs where she is not allowed, so I tell Jennifer. I get a reply to tell the dog off and that she will go out with her soon.

8:20ish The door slamms and I am going downstairs to have a breakfast, relieved that everything went smoothly. To my great surprise I find Jossie there, twisting her tail and looking at me with expectation of adventure!!!

It does not take a genius to work out, that the dog actually was not walked that morning. I can think of two alternatives:

Alternative one: a better one in a sense - Jenny let the dog to pee and crap in our backyard, which I'm strongly opposed to with a prospect of summer barbecues accompanied by the smell of dog excrements.

Alternative two: we will find a nice surprise on the carpet when we get home, because the poor creature could not hold it any longer...

On a serious matter

It is Monday evening, busy weekend is over and finally I have time to contemplate about the events of last week. All my previous entries were triggered by strong emotional experiences and most of these experiences were highly positive. Unfortunately, this one is of a different kind. Last Thursday afternoon, on 19th January, an army aircraft carrying Slovak soldiers from their KFOR mission in Kosovo, crashed just few kilometres away from the border of their native country, 10 minutes before it was due to land at the airport in Kosice. Fatalities:42, survivors:1. The worst tragedy in the history of Slovak Air Forces. I did not know about that until Friday, sometimes there are too many things to do and no time left to read the national newspapers on-line. I was shocked and deeply moved, yet kind of detached from the whole matter, partly because of the distance of thousand kilometres that separate me from my country, partly because even though they were my compatriots and I felt very sorry for them and their families, still they were strange people who I did not know. We have all grown a weird immunity, being by means of media daily exposed to the atrocities happening around the world. It is out there and we ordinary people can do very little about it.
But came Saturday and I got a text message from my mum, which read that among the dead soldiers was a man from a nearby village, who I did not know personally, yet I know his wife and his younger brother. They have three little kids, who have just lost their daddy in the stupid accident. Only then was I fully stricken with what had happened and how disgustingly cruel and real it was. These days the papers are full of articles about the tragedy and life stories of those who died. Today was the official day of grief in the whole country, with solemn music played on the radio stations, theatre performances cancelled and black flags on the buildings to commemorate the deceived. The whole nation is united in its grief. So many people are affected and bereaved. Those guys went to Kosovo to help to establish peace in Albania, to save other people’s lives, and they lost theirs on the way home…
Again and again I have to think about how very thin and fragile is the line between life and death. One minute you ARE, the next minute you ARE NOT. What is left is a lifeless wreck of limbs and flesh only very vaguely resembling the person and personality it used to be. How unpredictable and cruel and difficult to comprehend and to come to terms with. The bereaved are left with grief and questions, which will never be answered. That is the way life/death is.
Should we stop flying then, driving on the motorways, climbing the mountains? We never know when the time comes, only for these people it was far too soon…My deepest sympathy to all family members and friends of the deceived.
May they be strong enough to cope with their grief and carry on with their lives, even without their beloved.

In memory of Juraj Zubor and the rest of the aircraft passengers.

My First Ever Adventure Race

Gnawed by the peer pressure, last Sunday I gave in and for the first time in my life I took part in adventure race. If there was such thing as Adventure racing for Dummies, it would most certainly describe it as activity recommended for everyone enjoying outdoors, cycling, running and orienteering. I got a taster of it last December when I was accompanying Pete and Spider to the race and I was actually quite envious seeing all those fit, wet, exhausted and dirty people crossing the finishing line with high spirits and great satisfaction. It was time to give it a go.
In the nutshell, Open Five Adventure Race, which we took part in, looks something like this: you pay an entry fee, and arrive to the place of the race, preferably fit and equipped with a good bicycle and other gear. (The latter proved to be crucial in my case!)
On the spot, you get a map and a dibber on your wrist to record the places you visited. The race has a running and a cycling stage and the aim is to find as many places - controls marked on the map as possible, all within the period of five hours. Each control is worth different number of points, depending on its accessibility. The word “Open” in the race’s name is very appropriate, it suggests that racers are free to decide which route to take, which controls to visit or which stage to start with. Therefore, it is not only a matter of speed, stamina and navigation skills, strategic thinking and planning are equally important. Anyway, if I managed to get your attention now, have a look here.
I have to admit that I was a bit of a slacker in terms of preparation, so at least in the last week before the race I took it a bit more seriously and went running a few times, even up the Clougha Pike, our nearest “big hill” in the Forest of Bowland.
And so, there we were, Pete & Claire and me & Spider, ready to compete against each other (primarily) and against everyone else in the mixed pairs competition. Despite Spider’s complaints, (his arguments included indecency and rudeness, and “what if my parents will find out”), our team was given name Big Fat Bitches. For those who are wondering why – are you of medium height and medium built with slightly thicker thighs (thanks mum!) and have you ever tried those fancy body hugging lycra trousers and then have a look at yourself in the mirror in the changing room? Then you know what I’m talking about:). And if you don’t, then lucky you!
But let’s not divert from the main story line. So there we were, on bright and cold Sunday morning, in Hebden Bridge in the South Pennines, ready to race. Well, actually, we have won one race before we even started, a race against the time. I really like my good old bike, a faithful companion for three years now, but it would have been very foolish to ride it, potentially fatal for both of us. The only other option was to hire a bike, which proved to be almost impossible, except in the local bike shop (Blazing Saddles, I should have sensed the danger from that name) in Hebden Bridge, which only opened at 10 am. The time slot for the start of the race was until 10.30, so we had half an hour to drive to the town from the registration point, down the steep and narrow roads with deadly descents, collect the bike, climb up those steep and narrow roads with deadly ascents and get to the starting point which was away from the reg point. We made it!
After the exchange of byes and good lucks we dibbed our dibbers in the “dibbing machine” and that was the start of our running stage, from that moment there was a countdown running. Dibber is a funny little plastic thing, a gadget similar to the clock-in machine. Initially I thought it was called dipper and considered myself very smart for being able to deduce this from the way it works. You dip it in the hole in the dipping machine and while you dip, it does beeep. Well, I was wrong.
Do not worry, I am not going to bore you with account of each control we visited .I’ll try to give a general outline instead.
In all honesty, a boost that we got from being able to find the first control easily quickly faded away while desperately looking for a second one and never finding it. I knew that my navigation skills are appalling, Spider was giving me a lecture on how to find a place using the compass while having our breakfast and on the way there I was studying the map legend to at least know what the symbols stand for. I did not know though, that his skills are equally bad. Eventually we found our way and gradually we improved so much that we managed to find quite a few controls, some of them without any difficulties. At one point we even ganged up with other competitors and searched together for one especially well hidden control (which turned up not to be there, a little practical joke on the part of organisers). We picked a few more on the way to the transition for the cycling stage. We were running for two hours and a quarter and it was tiring, but enjoyable at the same time. At that point, I was really having fun and enjoying myself, the initial tension was gone. We seemed to have been similarly fit, so none of us had to wait for the other one too long and we could comfortably pace ourselves. Or perhaps Spider was just being polite:).
At the transition there was not much time to spare, quick drink, some snack, quick discussion about the strategy and route and off we went. We found the first control and on the way down I was literally growling with pleasure from the long forgotten experience of bouncing on the bike with a front suspension and was looking forward to some more bouncing, when everything went wrong. I noticed that my pedal is a bit wobbly, it was turning in a weird way, kind of askew and right in the moment I was telling this to Spider, it came off!! Since we both share another skill - being useless for bike fixing, we could not do much, so we just tried to put it back hoping that it will work and what do you think? No, it didn’t. It was not good. I was furious and helpless and I addressed the bike shop with every single swear word I could think of, luckily in my native language, so Spider knew f*ck all what I was going on about. In this desperate situation, I could not think of anything better than starting to cry. We had to decide quickly and the decision was that I would return to the transition and kill the time and Spider will carry on, even though the race was already over for us. At least I found a nice way of killing the time; I was playing football with local kids on the nearby playground. When Pete arrived (without Clare, they had a break down too!),we took the bike back to the shop ready to fight for a refund, which was fortunately offered without asking for and a little compensation on the top of it. I’d still much rather not have the money and have the experience of mission accomplished, even with a mud on my face …As a result of all these unpleasant circumstances, we finished on the modest 15th place….. out of fifteen pairs competing…

So there is a lot of room for improvement and the next race is in the mid March!

Just a few things to remember:

• Don’t hire bike from the dodgy shop

• Go left when Spider says to go right, purely for the sake of conserving energy

• Don’t eat strawberry & banana flavour energy jelly freebie, the taste is disgusting

• Don’t tell anyone you are going to race until you see your name in the top half of the result list, you can spare yourself from embarrassment

• Don’t ever think about missing out the adventure race again!

P.S. no visual footage this time, you might be lucky to spot me somewhere in the race report and photo gallery!

ThE MosT TeDiOuS TeDiOuSnEsS :(

.......PLEASE HELP!!!!........

So is my little self in its entirety shouting from the top of its lungs. These days have found me doing the most tedious job ever - filling in the application forms. (Or can you be imaginative and think of something more boring?) Well, the beginning of the New Year was really prolific in terms of a number of jobs advertised on environmental web sites, papers, etc. No doubt about that. Only how on earth is one supposed to remain sane enough to deal with them all?! I desperately need a job, and I got to the stage when whatever kind of job will do, but still I am trying hardest in the area covering my degree subject. Seasonal Ranger, Ecologist, Countryside Warden, Information Officer, Education Officer, Conservation Officer, you name it, I have it. How about this-how would you like to have a job with a job title:Aren't Birds Brilliant Officer? A little bit of a tongue-twister for me, but I would give it a go! For sure.
Looks like there are plenty of jobs out there, but somehow, there's always someone more experienced, more suitable, more more more than me!
Still, I know that I am not the only person not having a job yet out of all people from our course, but they are getting there, one by one and god knows when is my turn going to be...
If you don't have experience, we won't give you a job, that's the rule. I was secretly hoping, that my one year's worth of Sunday work with Conservation Volunteers at Lancaster Uni will count, but it does not seem to be like that at all.
I've just had a look at my perfectly chronologically (by deadlines) organised folder with application forms; there are more than thirty application forms for jobs that I would more-less (some of them more less, than more) like to do and for which I have to apply in the course of next month. I do not know whether it is just me being so reluctant to actually sit down and do it; it is just that thought somewhere at the back of my mind, that however hard I try, it is just a waste of time...
I know that it is not time to give up yet, I have never expected it to be easy, but neither have I expected it to be that difficult and frustrating.
Anyway, stop moaning now, silly girl, life is tough, you should have found by now! Time to do some more application forms..................As A rEcEnT GrAdUaTe....... oF LaNcAsTeR UnIvErSiTy I ..........CoNsIdEr MySeLf.........A SuItAbLe CaNdIdAtE...................and so on and so forth...............

Highlight of the week

This week has not finished yet, so perhaps the title is not the most appropriate considering that we might go camping to the Lakes during the weekend, but let's leave it like that for now.

By far the best thing that happened to me this week was the cinema night on Monday. The Dukes, local independent cinema was showing the award winning film March of the Penguins. No one was at home and the message that I sent to one of my friends who notoriously ignores messages was (surprisingly!) not replied, so I went on my own. In fact I don't mind going on my own at all, although, it would be great to have someone who would wipe my tears in case of emergency.

The cinema was almost empty, I guess they must have been showing King Kong somewhere else! I have heard several people wondering, how on earth could a documentary be worth a prize? Well, this one certainly is. It is a story about emperor penguins in a distant and cold Antarctica, narrated by Morgan Freeman. These tuxedo-clad cutes undertake an exhaustive journey in order to find love and found a family. It is beautifully shot and makes you apply for a job with British Antarctic Survey straightaway. I do not want to give you, my dedicated readers, too many details and spoil the broth. Go and find out yourselves:) It is a must see movie!

Sunday tales from Yorkshire Dales

In the last couple of months my Sundays were reserved for hill walking exclusively. Last Sunday was not the exception. This time we (me and my 2 friends, Spider and Pete) decided to change the location a bit and swapped the Lakes for the Yorkshire Dales. Our objective was to climb to the summit of the Whernside (736 m) without getting too tired and be lucky enough to spot the odd train on the impressive Ribblehead viaduct spanning the Ribble valley on the Settle-Carlisle railway. The viaduct was completed in 1875, spans the valley with its 24 arches and according to Chris from the Best Centre, the construction cost quite a few people their lives. (he remembers it apparently!) And here it is

We were climbing, well, rather strolling up the valley and met a group of motorcyclists, who should not really have been there since it was a public footpath (in the phase of reconstruction even!) in the National Park and our geeky environmental selves were tempted to make a footage of them on the digital camera and pass it on, but our cowardly selves, sensing a possible beating, let go. The countryside was.... well, I have to be honest- bleak and rather uninteresting. Undulating hills covered in grass, not a single tree anywhere. Forgive me all british readers, who grew up in this sort of landscape and love it from the bottom of their hearts, for someone growing up surrounded by forests this looks like a desert. But the company was good as always so I enjoyed myself. Even more so when we got to the top of the ridge where suddenly we happened to be in the different, white world. It wasn't snow, just the frost blown by the constant wind, but incredibly beautiful, turning the rusty fences and stone walls into the intricate art features worth stopping and watching and capturing and as a result I stayed way behind my companions. I am posting some of them for you here and I am hoping you'll like them as much as I do

This happens to be myself:) I am the king of the castle....

I really like this one, it has a kind of atmosphere, don't you think?

Having recently returned from my native country, where we had lovely white Christmas, I found the whiteness really soothing and felt a bit homesick:( Then it was time to descend as one of us had a serious business to deal with later, so we moved on and eventually finished the loop just where we started and below is the viaduct from a different perspective. I don't know how frequent are the trains on this line, especially on winter Sundays, but we were lucky to see one passing just as we walked beneath:) Unfortunately my camera let me down on that occasion, so no evidence of this remarkable event whatsoever.

Traditionally, we finished our trip in the pub in Ingleton with a great selection of real ales and we had a discussion about how much money one needs to be able to live without work for the rest of one's life. Interesting topic for three unemployed graduates. And to finish the trip off properly, we had a feast of fish & chips in Pete's house. The last time, most likely, since Pete is moving soon:( Well, we hope he'll still come every now and again and there are many more adventures to look forward to!

for the first time

Heureka!

and so i became a blogger! feeling kinda important now:) hope my life will be eventful enough to supply you with regular faff to read!