Out on a Lymington

So, I'm back in God's own country, after audaciously travelling less than two hours to the Big Smoke. I think I may have failed to clarify a few weeks ago that the Oxfam work I was doing came to an end as the commute was impractical given home life. Enough said.
I've just spent a couple of days in London doing work for the BBC, freelancing in the newsroom at the World Service, where I had a thoroughly fabulous time. It was really good to be back in the thick of things, using my brain and getting mental stimulation from like-minded people.
The car has now been un-clamped after Jon decided it was probably better to pay for it to be removed than try and remove the clamp and the wheel himself, which is a small relief. It had been clamped because it wasn't showing the necessary authorisation on Sunday morning as the sticker allowing us to park in that space had temporarily ended up in the van that was being used to transport our furniture which, at the time of the clamping was on the other side of Lymington. Danelle, you asked what clamping was. This is when they put a heavy metal contraption on your wheel which prevents you from moving the car and then charge you $250 for the privilege of removing it.
Little else to report, aside from the fact that it seems to be sunny here today, which is about flipping time after a rubbish summer. And, despite the occasional days of sun, no I still haven't learnt to sail. Oh well, perhaps I never will. Now I know how football widows feel; only I bet most of their other halfs don't work at football clubs as well.
Bitter, moi? Surely not.....

Loads of rubbish

Our lives have been packed into bags and I've spent hours sifting sentimentally through and abandoning the artefacts of my childhood and adolescence. We've now moved house and I am very sad. Sitting here on the last chair in Coastguard Cottages, it feels like I'm paying a visit to the grave of someone who I appreciate much more now they're dead. And I can't have them back. And I can't move back in here. We have been uprooted and decamped to our new home on the High Street in Lymington. It's in a impressive Georgian building with high ceilings and decent access to the shops. But, I'm not happy. I am aware that I am probably coming across as a miserable sod in this posting, but I need some outlet for my grumps. I had two hours' sleep last night because we are several doors down from a late bar and because various boy racers decided they wanted to drive up and down the road like maniacs.
A new paragraph is now called for as I've been turfed off the chair and sit typing this against the cold stone wall.
This morning the car got clamped. There are reasons this happened and there are reasons too why the clamp is still on there despite a visit by the clamp man. These are not reasons I understand or appreciate.
I am going to London this afternoon and hope whilst there I will get an emotional boost and feel like I actually want to come back to this town. At the moment I don't and the only reason I will is Azara. I am going to do some shifts at the World Service for two days and am going to be glad of the mental stimulation. By staying at Hilary's tonight, I might get some sleep, I suppose.
Azara can tell things are not quite right and, in addition to the teething, she has been quite grumpy for a few days.
It's funny how sadness limits the adjectives I use, stifling my desire to write.

Peru

Already more than four hundred people have been killed in yesterday's earthquake in Peru and three times as many as that injured. I sat through plenty of small earthquakes when I was living in Lima and I often thought about how I might react and what might happen when the big one occurred that they'd been predicting for ages. Well, it's happened now and although everyone's saying an even worse disaster has been averted, it really makes me think. The Indian Ocean tsunami killed fifty times more people, yet how do you quantify grief? Clearly in figures more people died in the tsunami, but to me because I have such a connection to Peru, this makes me incredibly sad. I am hoping and praying that all those I know are okay and haven't been too badly affected by the earthquake and haven't lost too much. I don't want to make myself sound like an idiot, but I felt I needed to write something.

Happy 10 months, Azara

Amazing really how quickly time goes on the one hand and how it sometimes feels like Azara hass been part of my life forever. Now that she's 10 months, she has the most wonderful personality and sense of adventure about her, although she does occasionally show a wilful streak (which I know she probably gets from me and which isn't manifesting itself as someone's dubious idea of 'pay-back' time, before someone else mentions it). We spent this morning at a car boot sale, which was very hot and rather unsuccessful, in that we managed to make a little bit of money, but didn't really manage to shift many things, which was the aim of the game as we're supposed to be moving in a little over two weeks. Hilary, who is here for the weekend, was absolutely fantastic. Azara was very well behaved, even though it was very warm. We've just got back from lunch at the local pub, where we met Jon as he's working today. Not much else to report, as I'm pretty pressed for time and tired. But I'll post some pictures of Azara at 10 months as soon as possible.
Hannah
xxx