Tired now.

So I ran the British 10k this morning, and I did it in 67min, which is really quite slow but better than I was doing on my training runs, so I'll take it thankewverymuch, and anyway I'm just chuffed (still) that I'm actually able to run 10 WHOLE KILOMETRES. Which is more than the distance from Cape Town train station to my gran's place in Newlands. I'm just saying. 'Sfar.

Last time I did this particular race (it was also the first time I'd run a 10k), I had to walk most of the last 2km. This time was much easier. It helps that rather than running in sweltering 30-degree heat, it was a cool 20 degrees or so (with occasional rain). Rain is better than sun. Fact. It also helps that I had Choons. Yes! I took great care in assembling a playlist for the event. Now, playlist assemblage, for running, purposes of, is a fine art. You can't just stick a bunch of bouncy songs together, nonono. You need to predict your levels of energy at each point and choose the Choons accordingly. For me, the perfect playlist has 3 clear phases:

1. Aggro beginning. Gotta get off on the right foot, as it were, pounding the pavement like you really mean it. Lots of drums are recommended. The right sort of beat is vv NB: need to establish a pace. It should be quite fast, because after all you *can* go fast at this stage, but not so fast that you wear yourself out right away. My choices?
Stomp, Ripper Sole (the fab bit from Tank Girl where the rippers are all boogieing down)
Bjork, Army of Me (hey, it follows Ripper Sole in the soundtrack and that works for me)
Fleetwood Mac, Tusk (possibly the best running song ever)
Blondie, Call Me
Because we Can Can from Moulin Rouge

2. Middle maintenance. By now you've established a rhythm, so it's really more about entertainment. Pick Choons that will divert and distract you, and that have approximately the right pace. Defiant lyrics are good here. Some of my favourites:
Ini Kamoze, Here Comes the Hotstepper
Aretha Franklin, Son of a Preacher Man
Ice-T, Big Gun (yes, more Tank Girl, you gotta problem with that?)
Blondie, Rapture
Grand National, Playing in the Distance ("We're not caving in... we're not caving in...")
A fabulous mash-up of Nirvana and The Supermen Lovers, as recommended by top bloggers everywhere

3. Final stages. You might be flagging, so you need relentlessly perky songs to cheer you up and keep you going. If that should happen to be disco, well, there's no shame in that. NO THERE ISN'T SO THERE.
Scissor Sisters, Laura
Gloria Gaynor, I Will Survive,
Blondie, One Way or Another
Goldfrapp, Train

4. Finish line treat. Well, I guess this one's optional, but personally I really like having something totally delightful and maybe a little bit loony come on just as I'm patting myself on the back because OH MY GOD I JUST RAN ALL THAT WAY! Something like, say, the Langley Schools Project version of You're so Good to Me. Yes. Something just like that.

Of course, if you've gone to all the trouble of setting up the playlist, then you really want to listen to it all the way through. So do try to make sure your player doesn't mysteriously conk out just before the 7km mark, all right? Because, trust me. That would be really... really... really disappointing.

A good night.

Freshlyground. Dudes. Have you seen them? The albums are great, but live, they're phenomenal.



Course you've missed them now, if you're in London, at least till the next tour. They'll be all over Europe, though. And then of course back in Cape Town. Hey, maybe you're in Cape Town. Maybe you could catch them locally.

*sigh*

I miss Cape Town.

(Hey, you know the best part? Well maybe not the best part. But a really good part. The sound. It was excellent. I don't watch a lot of live music, and partly that's because almost without exception, the sound quality sucks, you can't really hear the actual songs, just noise. (I have particularly lousy hearing; I realise this might not be the case for everyone.) But whether thanks to the venue - Cargo in Shoreditch, very nice - or Freshlyground's own awesome sound engineering, this time, they sounded perfect. Yay for actually hearing the music you're there to hear!)

My favourite things: part the fifth

I can't draw. I really, really, really can't.

But these fabulous, soft, aquarelle-y pastel pencils make me imagine that I can.

My favourite things: part the fourth

My mother has always had a collection of pretty little boxes, and I've inherited that appreciation. Carved wood, mother of pearl inlays, swirly art nouveau pewter... all beautiful. I twitch acquisitively in the mere presence of such little trinkets. Partly, I suspect, this is because (unlike my mother) I really do not like ornaments that are just ornaments. Form without function? Such a turn-off. Boxes are pretty, but also useful; at least that's the theory. There is a point, alas, at which a collection of pretty boxes becomes just clutter. So I've ruthlessly pruned the smaller boxes, and moved my jewellery and such into larger, more efficient organisers.

But there's still something about pretty boxes for their own sake; maybe the mystery and potential of them. Anything could be inside there.

These two are special. Both were (ahem) appropriated from my mother. The larger, wooden one, which I call my treasure chest, once held all my loose change; now it holds a selection of aromatherapy oils, matches and so on. The little metal one is the elephant kit (named, of course, for the not-visible-here picture on the lid). It was originally my grandfather's, and it still fulfils the same function it did two generations ago: it holds headache pills, plasters and so on.

The mirrored jar was a birthday present from pinkthulhu, and I think it's almost the perfect abstract model of a present: it sparkles and it smells like dessert!* Really, what more could a girl ask for? The fact that, when the candle burns out, it will be a luscious addition to my box collection is just a bonus.

_____
* Containing, as it does, a vanilla-scented candle.

My favourite things: part the third

I was hankering after a pretty teapot for the longest time. But our kitchen is small, and cluttered, and I thought it would be a good idea to avoid adding to that clutter. Then Beloved bought me a tin of organic loose-leaf Darjeeling,* so I went looking for a tea egg, but I couldn't find a tea egg so I bought an in-cup strainer, but that didn't work well *at all*, so I gave in and went shopping for a teapot.

I found this beautiful range of tea china in about five different blue and white patterns. While they were all delightful, I decided I liked them best all together. So I came home with a teapot, a milk jug, and three bowls, all different. So much for minimising clutter. But what can I say? They make me happy. And see how well they match my favourite teacup!**

Looking at this picture, I had a minor epiphany, of the blindingly-obvious-but-I-only-just-realised kind. Those bloggers who chronicle the pleasures of domesticity? Who post tightly cropped, beautifully composed pictures of cupcakes and quilts, and minor odes to the joys of lavender scented linen spray? They are SO FAKING.

No, that's not fair. I have no doubt that they have beautiful homes, and that they truly do go to the effort of, well, using lavender scented linen spray. But if you were to imagine my home life based on this picture — and I doubt you would, consciously, but I bet it's hard not to let it colour your image of me just a little, if you've never met me in person — you would be picturing something, well, girly. And... kempt.

Those who do know me, who have even been to my home, know that this is not exactly so. Which makes me feel a little bit — just a little — less intimidated by

The knitting does rather go without saying, but I include it because it matches so nicely.

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* I don't even drink Darjeeling. Every now and then he succumbs to a random impulse in Tesco, and this was one of them. More recently, he came home with four cans of Budweiser. I realise this might not sound odd to anyone else, but it was cold weather. He didn't have any plans to tuck in that night, or any time soon. Apart from at braais and such, we are not great beer drinkers. And... Bud? Really?
** I'm a mug girl, really, but how beautiful is this?

My favourite things: part the second

Warm, soft flannel jammies.
That remind me of sweets.

The pretty white and brown one (a nightshirt — the perfect sleeping attire) puts me in mind of expensive chocolate truffles. The kind that come in boxes decorated with prints just like that. And the pink ones — well, don't they just *smell* like jellybeans?* They do. To me they do.

Wearing lovely flannel jammies is one of the things that make winter worthwhile. But I'm not sorry to put them away now that the weather's turned gorgeous.

_____
* Not literally. I haven't been sleeping with sugary treats.

These are a few of my favourite things... part the first

And from the "maximising content for lazy-ass bloggers" files, we bring you a photo series. Things that make me happy just to look at them. They're pretty,* and that's important, but that's not the only reason.



A well-organised address book, and a mostly empty diary.

The diary is a Moleskine weekly planner, and I can't tell you how happy I was to find it. It's the perfect size; it's softcover, so not too heavy despite the large format, and it has a nice elastic to hold it closed; it lies open comfortably on my desk, which I like for purposes of managing my to-do list and so on, but also slips easily into my handbag; and it has a whole big page for notes, *every week*, and just a few lines for each day's schedule! Perfect. (I'm not a meetings person.)

I like an empty diary because, well, I crazy busy. Looking at an empty, appointment-free page fills me with calm. This week I took off work, I flattened my freelance commitments right at the start, and I'm slowly working my way through my monster to-do list. Normally that list would be on the notes page, but right now it's too big and has been migrated to an A4 pad. (So that blank page isn't so good, really, but still.) It is my Firm Resolve to hack it down to at most a few lines, filed under "long-term projects", by the time I go back to work next Thursday.

Even the pencil is special. It's silver — my favourite colour. It's from One Aldwych, where I spent my incredibly fabulous 30th birthday weekend. And it bears kitty chew marks. I realise that might not be considered a good thing by everybody, but I like it. Maybe not on a custom made leather boot,** but on a souvenir pencil? Come, kitties, bring me your toothsome*** love.

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* In an ideal world I'd have proper pretty pictures that actually show off the prettiness. But I'm not so great with the camera. And the light in our front room is crap. Gotta love blaming the light.
** No, I don't actually have any custom made leather boots.
Dammit.
*** Before you tell me that's not what toothsome means, may I refer you to Humpty Dumpty?