How To… Walk into a Storm

Mark my words, weather’s a coming. Sure, they’ve been predicting it for a week or so and it’s not actually affected me yet but snow is quite definitely on the horizon. Probably. Unless you’re in the lucky position of being able to hibernate for a week or so, odds are you’re going to have to head out into the world at one point or another. Even if it’s just nipping to the corner shop for some milk.

So let’s be safe about this. If you’re going to walk into a storm of snow, you’d better be prepared. But so few of us have an outdoor-wear shop in our basement or basic survival skills it means that a fair bit of improvisation is going to have to happen. Don’t have any snowshoes? Never fear, just strap tennis rackets or the remnant of wicker furniture to your feets. Protect yourself from nasty falls or skids on ice by swaddling yourself in so many woolen layers that even you’re not sure which way of you is up, given how spherical you’ve become.

Give yourself a waterproof outer coating by either applying a suitable coat or, because said item won’t fit over your chunky knitwear (it’s definitely the knitwear), wrap yourself in liberal amounts of clingfilm. The actual walking element of proceedings might have gone out the window by this point what with you no longer being able to move your legs – this is where the sled team of huskies comes into play.

Essentially, by this point you’ll have figured out for yourself whether you really need to go outside at all. If the extensive prep is only making you all the more determined to brave the hostile outside elements then it’s what you need to do. If strapping yourself to the radiator is the strongest image in your mind then, well, you know what to do.

Walk into a storm – The Lone Bellow

Also, new post up today on t’other blog.

How To… Go Wild in the Country

Maybe we should have a think about going off-grid. It might be time we admit that the doomsday preppers might actually have some sense when it comes to this sort of matter. Getting as far out into the wilds or sticks or what have you can afford certain protections from the hurly burly of modern life. Sure, there was some wildness going on yesterday, but this is a kind of a more personal variety.

Face it, there’s been this wellspring of emotion bubbling away in you, broiling and simmering until you don’t feel able to contain it any more. Now, there are plenty of different existing outlets for that surge of inner sentiment. You could shout at a loved one who just doesn’t seem bothered by your mental turmoil, dismember a colleague who just doesn’t seem to be able to understand your push for paperless working or threaten with whatever blunt object comes to hand anyone who has the misfortune of ringing your doorbell.

But all of these actions have consequences that you might not want to face in the morning once a certain level of your anger has dissipated. Instead, why not take advantage of the holiday company I’ve just flung together with scraps of ingenuity from my brain?

A less discerning customer might look at the accommodation and see a string of ramshackle cottages with less than fashionable decor and slightly leaky roofs. You, on the other hand, with thoughts and feelings to vent, see an opportunity. Within these wobbly walls, you can go as wild and animalistic as you want, smashing up the place to the point that you know the hefty deposit has more than paid for itself. You might even feel compelled to set up a standing order, knowing that having somewhere handy to air your feelings will do you a lot of good in the coming days.

Go wild in the country – Bow Wow Wow

How To… Let Him Run Wild

I’m trying to look for things that spark joy, honestly. But there are so many things cropping up that make me furious at the moment. Stunning lapses in judgement and the shifting sands of opinions, for two such things. In spite of the fact that we were told over and again that the exit deal would be the easiest negotiation in British history because of all those cards we held, we’re now hearing that at the time of the referendum there wasn’t even a suggestion of such a deal. That would be ridiculous, crashing out into the wilderness with no plan is clearly a much better idea.

Certainly, watching ham-face sleepwalking us into a referendum he didn’t want to have, because he was sure he wouldn’t win as bigly as he did with no plan in place just in case he did lose it is incredibly galling. I have zero sympathy for Cameron. No one forced his hand, he could have actually planned the damn thing before announcing the date for the vote. It’s a clear signal to me that I’m just not built for power (plus, I’m a non-privately educated woman so I don’t assume the reins of the country should be handed to me on a plate just because I reckon I deserve a crack at whatever top job I fancy). Keeping a voting bloc together surely isn’t worth doing these sorts of things to the country?

But another thing that made me shout at the radio was hearing about the new play poised to hit the stage courtesy of David Mamet about a badly behaved media mogul who’s definitely not Harvey Weinstein.

Don’t shrug and admit to there being triggering content to people abused by the sort of character you’re playing, John Malkovich. Don’t tell us about the incredible talent of a man co-opting a story that doesn’t belong to him. This is subject matter that destroyed the lives and careers of so many women. If you’re going to insist on playing in this particular sandbox then tell us about the woman who are part of the collaborative process, the people you’re listening to and whose experiences you’re focusing on rather than digging into the character of a serial rapist who still won’t own up to what he’s done.

At least John had the grace to admit that, while he hadn’t heard anything substantial about Harvey’s general awfulness, he did somehow manage to mount a comeback, it wouldn’t be anything like his second chance.

Let him run wild – The Beach Boys

How To… Carry on my Wayward Son

At this particular point in time my son is so wayward that I’m not even aware of his existence. So in 2019 it’s probably not much of a difficult for him to carry on being wayward. Then again, reproduction being what it is, there’s every chance that I might one day go on to have one (and promise now not to name him Desmond or Clive, much to the disappointment of certain male relatives. Not that those are their names, they’re just their default suggestions. Nigel’s out too).

Anyway, the raging vanity monster riding around on my shoulder (as far as I’m aware, it’s a common writerly affliction. No matter how convinced we are that we’re useless and our words are awful, we’re still compelled to launch our works as far into public consciousness as possible) will no doubt decree that I show this entire blog to any of my offspring should they express even the tiniest portion of interest in it. Sorry kids.

So one day down the line, my son (or daughter or non-binary offspring of their own self-determination, see? Once upon a time I was vaguely woke) might cast his eyes over this. And if my parenting concerns come to fruition, he might have become a little bit wayward. But in my endless wisdom, I’ve written this to help guide him home (and blethered on about myself for a couple of hundred words. It’ll be a miracle if he gets to the end of this).

Therefore, son of mine, know that you can carry on as far as you like for as long as you want. Whenever you’re ready, there’ll be a place for you at home. I’ll even see if I can hunt down a fatted calf for your glorious return, prodigal son style. Or maybe we’ll just get a takeaway or something while we catch up.

Carry on my wayward son – Kansas

How To… Party all the Time

Even the most hardcore of dungeons and dragons players might balk at this one. It’s one thing to enjoy your standard shindig or hootenanny but for this to become the entirety of your existence is another thing altogether. Yes, I am an introvert, how could you tell?

On the plus side, if you’re spending all the livelong day partying, imagine the series of hats you’ll be not only allowed to but compelled to wear. Just imagine it, you start out in one of those natty pointed numbers with a handy chin strap to ensure it’s not going to fall off, graduate to a paper cracker hat just because you can even though it’s not Christmas and you finish affairs in a glittery stetson. Look, surely it’s a whole lot easier to keep the party vibe going if you lean into themes on a regular basis?

But there are myriad concerns if we’re going to pull this off in a satisfactory fashion. And by that I mean you’ll probably manage to get a party going, fire it up with aplomb and then continue it for a few days. Then you’ll plunge into a well earned sleep and start a new craze in social gatherings to celebrate hibernation. Anyway, what’s the food and drink situation going to be? It’s going to take a whole lot of pineapple and cheese on cocktail sticks to fuel your way through perpetual party time.

So, once the fridge is well and truly packed to the gunnels, you’ve assembled one hell of a curated playlist, chucked out a dozen or so invites on social media, hung up decorations in the form of banners and that, you’re probably just about ready to get the party started. Me? Oh, I’ll be somewhere else with a book. Unless you’ve got a dog I can make friends with rather than having to cope with that whole human social interaction thing.

Party all the time – Eddie Murphy

How To… Wrap it Up

So it turns out that chaos at the airports is the main way to make a substantial point in modern society. TSA workers who haven’t been paid for a month pull mass sickies, the planes stop being able to fly and hey presto, the government reopens itself. Albeit for just a few weeks while talks that have been going so swimmingly until now can keep on going. And then there was the drone malingering before Christmas that caused so much excitement.

But that’s all rather beside the point. There are plenty of other things that you might be wanting to wrap up. And to be fair, unless you’re one of a very small subset of people, you’re probably not looking at the conclusion of tricky political situations. Odds are, you were thinking of presents and stuff. Or maybe the cold weather has drawn you to the delights of thick woollen scarves to drape yourself in.

First things first when it comes to gifts, make sure you’ve got enough materials before you start. There’s no point folding the paper into the crispest of creases if you realise halfway through it’s going to devolve into a patchwork of different patterns. And you’ll need to have the sellotape handy. If you’re hunting for the end of it with one hand, trying to keep the wrapping paper secured with the other and delving in the drawer for the scissors I’m sure you’ll find that you look like a right picture.

Whatever you’re doing, protecting your brilliant present choice from prying eyes or your own goosebumped skin from the cruelty of the elements, it’s important to wrap up your wrapping up in good time. Otherwise someone will start unwrapping before the wrapping had been done in the first place and that would be a crime against sequential behaviour. Probably.

Wrap it up – The Fabulous Thunderbirds

How To… Get it Right Next Time

There’s a lot out there being said about perseverance. It’s important, didn’t you know, to pick yourself up, dust off and have another crack at whatever it was you were trying to get done. But blindly plugging away, repeating the same method over and again is downright Sisyphean and in the eyes of some the definition of madness. It’s not the number of attempts that matter but the outcome.

So please put down the blunt instrument, I’m sure we can work out a way to finesse this. For one, it’s important to have a period of introspection and outerspection, even if you don’t feel you’ve got enough time for one. If you can’t identify where things went wrong last time, you’re probably going to repeat all those mistakes and end up looking like something of a tit. As opposed to how you usually present yourself to the world.

Maybe you were working with the wrong person, or you didn’t get a good enough picture of events before wading into the fray, or Mercury was in retrograde and wreaking all sorts of havoc over your endeavour. Once you’ve met with failure, it doesn’t often take too much effort to work out what events conspired to book that encounter. Then again, sometimes you have no idea how it all spiralled out of control.  Might have been sabotage for all you know.

Right then, so once you’ve course corrected if possible, you need to psych yourself up to the point of having another go. Slap a sunny grin across your face that will lighten the spirits of everyone involved, you included. Launch into that hearty pep talk about how brilliant things will be once you’ve divined the magic formula or what have you. Then take a running jump, launch yourself headfirst into whatever’s going on and see what happens.

Get it right next time – Gerry Rafferty

How To… Catch a Wave

We’ve already been told to catch a falling star and put it in your pocket (in a move that definitely won’t melt your fingers off or enter you into a binding contract with a fire demon). But this sounds like it would be a whole lot easier. After all, if you can make your way to the sea then surely the odds are in your favour that you’ll be able to track down a wave or two? With falling stars, it’s a waiting game that you don’t know if you’ll ever win.

Then again, waves are ever so slightly more sizeable than the remnants of falling stars (spoiler, not actually stars don’t you know?). It’s not like you have to put it in a little cloth chamber or anything but how are you going to wrap your arms around a wave? Or maybe the way to go is with some kind of large net. Although you might struggle to find one that’s not just going to let the water leak away as soon as it’s contained its catch.

I’m not all that sure why you want to do this. Have you come over just a little bit old King Canute? Even if you manage to lay your mitts, grubby or otherwise, on a wave, what are you going to do with it once you’ve got it?

Of course, this whole post is a lengthy admission that I’m just not very cool. Because catching a wave is quite clearly a colloquialism for going surfing. Which is something I’ve never done and, with my lack of balance being the way it is, doubt I’ll ever get that involved with such an activity. So I decided to take something of a tangent and there’s nothing you can do about it. Apart from going surfing. But if you’re in the UK maybe wait until after the cold snap’s finished.

Catch a wave – The Beach Boys

How To… Take Me to a Higher Plane

This probably is meant to relate to something trippy about a higher plane of existence or something like that, getting someone else to put the hard work in for you when it comes to reaching enlightenment. But I’m not in the mood for fancy metaphors today. It would be nice to get something practical accomplished. Solving air travel feels like an appropriate feat for a Wednesday.

Sky corridors sound like an excellent way forward. Rather than planes having to do the humdrum actions of landing and taking off, they could forever hover in the skies. Hopeful passengers can clamber their way up and down the hovering banks of machinery. Up you’d go, towering over the highest mountain, right up into the skies themselves.

Of course, that’s not a very inclusive way of doing things. What about those who can’t or don’t feel inclined to make the climb? And I never said that this was about how to provide me with the opportunity to get to a higher plane under my own steam. I’m a busy woman, if I’ve stated that I want to be taken there then that had better me what happens. Invent me a levitating platform or jet-pack, strap me to a board, install a series of increasingly impractically placed escalators, so long as I can keep on scrolling Twitter, I’ll be happy.

What we’re all going to do once we’ve reached this higher plane I’ll admit is something I haven’t completely worked out. There are those who’ll feel compelled to say that the only way to go from there is down. But that’s just pessimistic. We can keep layering the planes towards the heavens and start renting out space shuttles when the atmosphere gets too thin. Of course, when there’s no higher plane to take me to you can consider your job done. But only then.

Take me to a higher plane – Kate Nash

How To… Rinse the Raindrops

Got to keep busy. If you don’t fill your hours with mindless chores you might start thinking about stuff you’d rather not have filling up your brain hole. Once you’ve dried the fire, frozen the room temperature and given the air a bit of a waft about, you know you’re going to have to find something else to occupy yourself with.

Maybe I’m poking a bit of fun for no real reason and will come out the other side of this looking like a bit of a fool. So let’s get cracking and dry some raindrops in a straightforward and sober way. For one, we need to collect some raindrops to rinse. Luckily, we’ve got plenty of those in the UK so that probably won’t take too much time. Stick a receptacle of your choice outside, have a cup of tea while you wait and before you know it, the heavens will have opened.

Take said raindrop catcher back inside (no point in running the risk of adding more raindrops to your rinsing efforts. There’s only so much you should be prepared to put yourself through). Stick a larger basin or similar under it. If you’ve somehow miscalculated and don’t have anything bigger, decant your rainwater. Then start running the cold tap.

Through an elaborate filtration system, catching the drops and tap water in your bigger basin, in time you’ll have given those raindrops a decent rinsing. What you do with them once you’ve carried out your mission is your own affair. Sure, as far as I can tell, you’ve used a surplus of extra water in attempting something that would seem a little bit superfluous to requirements. But maybe you’re doing a purification ritual or something. If everything ends up fixed thanks to your efforts, you’ll have my eternal gratitude. And then I’ll swoop in to take credit because I was instrumental in helping you to rinse the raindrops.

Rinse the raindrops – Paul McCartney