Month: October 2014

Costa Coffee do not want me to eat their cakes

Today’s weird thought came to me in the toilet at Costa Coffee in Melrose Brace (yes, there really is a wikipedia entry for Melrose Brace) in Shrewsbury. The thought derives from an experience I had when I was in the queue to buy a coffee.

While I was waiting behind the people ordering complicated coffees, taking their time, I started to think that a cakery treat would be nice.

My favourite tipple

My favourite tipple

It was only 9.30am and the display of cakes and croissants was more-or-less complete and looking very fresh.  In fact everything looked delicious. I don’t normally eat cakes. I don’t have a very sweet tooth (offer me cheese and I find it hard to say no but offer me cake and chances are I’ll decline). But having to wait in the queue in front of the cake display and seeing this lovely spread in front of me, I decided that yes, today I’d have a treat. I’d been having a really few days with too much to do with work and organising an exhibition at Powis Castle so I was feeling very stressed and felt I deserved a treat.

This is Becky heaven

This is Becky heaven

Immediately, my attention went to the chocolate orange fancies in the middle of the display. I love chocolate orange. We are never without a chocolate orange in the fridge at home. I always get given chocolate oranges for Christmas. I love chocolate, I love orange, I love them together.

This winked at me today

This winked at me today

It was my turn and I was about to say ‘a medium Americano and, erm, one of those please’ when my eye spied a sign next to the chocolate orange fancies. I peered closer to the glass front of the cake display. The sign provided useful information about the chocolate orange fancy, including calorie content. My eyes widened in horror: 400-odd calories!! No thanks!

Costa obviously don’t want me to eat their cakes. What planet are Costa Coffee on? Why do they want to provide the calorie content information next to all their cakes? Are they trying to put customers off? If so, it worked on me. I don’t want to know how many calories I’m eating. I just want to enjoy chocolate and orange with coffee. I’m not sure if other people are put off by these calories signs, but it had that effect on me.

So after I’d had my coffee sans cake, I went home and ate a piece of chocolate orange out of the fridge.

Thoughts about people on trains

Today I’ve been to Oxford and back for a work meeting to talk about the next edition of this book. And while on my travels and while in the toilets of Oxford city (two of them), I had a few thoughts about train travel and train travellers.

Will this train get to Birmingham in one piece?

Will this train get to Birmingham in one piece?

 

You need to sit next to likeable people Just In Case

This first thought is quite a morbid one, but I have it quite a lot. And it goes as follows: were there were to be some sort of crisis, such as a train crash or a terrorist take-over / kidnapping, the people who are sitting around you on the train could become your future best friends. What I mean is, if you end up experiencing something quite traumatic with them, you would probably want to stay in touch.

Also, you’d probably want some very practical, calm types with you who know first aid (so seek such people out if you can).

This terrorist take-over or non-fatal crash I worry about has yet to happen of course. This thought only came to me in 1999 after watching an ITV drama about such an event called The Last Train.

So even today, sat on the 16.07 from Reading to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, I looked at the man sat next to me and thought ‘would you be a good in a crisis?’ If we have a crisis, will we be friends forever?

Predictably, this didn’t happen and the man got off the train at Leamington Spa.

 

It is better to sit next to someone already sat down than it is to find two empty seats or an empty table with four seats

Why, I hear you ask. This goes against instinct, surely? Most people when they get on a train that is relatively empty, will choose empty seats so they can stretch out their legs and belongings rather than seats with occupants nearby. They are wrong to do this because if you choose an empty seat, you cannot control who will then come and sit next to or opposite you. You might get someone smelly or unsavory (or someone who likely doesn’t know any first aid). However, if you sit next to someone already sat down, you can deliberately select a nice little old lady with a bag of sweets and bags of common sense to sit next to, or a likely-to-mind-his-own-business business man who has been on a first aid course for work.

 

 Despite the above, I always seem to sit with the eccentrics of this world

Most train journeys I take, I end up being sat next to by or opposite life’s interesting characters. I’ve been given Christmas cake on a train (and other food stuffs including sandwiches, fruit, and sweets). I once sat opposite a fat business man eating a very smelly bacon buttie whilst reading a paperback of short stories that you wouldn’t want your grandmother to see you read in public. People have fallen asleep on me. Strangers always engage me in conversation. People like to tell me their life stories and ask me mine.

Today’s interesting character was an elderly lady with a Sony Walkman (yes, in the year 2014, she was listening to a mixed tape). We talked about hot chocolate vs coffee, her wires which got muddled with her coat and trains.

A real Sony Walkman in the 21st century

A real Sony Walkman in the 21st century

 

It is in your best interest to be as normal as you can

Be normal, so that you don’t irritate your fellow passengers by being odd or smelly. Also, and more importantly, so that you reassure them in case they are also worried about a terrorist kidnapping or train crash. I find this tactic works well.

 

But in conclusion, I love train travel. I don’t get to do it very often these days (I used to commute to work by train every day) so it’s a real treat to me now to spend a couple of hours with a book and a coffee, and with life’s oddballs.

My favourite train station

My favourite train station

 

The things about Downton Abbey that annoy me

This isn’t so much a weird thought, but a thought that comes to mind every Sunday (or every Sunday that I find myself watching Downton Abbey).

I love Downton Abbey. For me, it defines Sundays in autumn. I have to watch Downton Abbey with a BGRW (Big Glass of Red Wine). As I type, Downton Abbey is on and I’m very excited.

My Downton Abbey wine

My Downton Abbey wine

However, there are aspects of Downton Abbey that annoy me.

 

They never get fat.

They eat huge meals every night. They eat meals of at least three courses. Yet, they never get fat. They move very slowly. They never exercise. They don’t run, go to Zumba, or play any sports. Yet, they never get fat. There is no justice in that.

We cook, they eat, a lot

We cook, they eat, a lot

 

They never seem drunk.

They drink wine every night. They drink lots of wine. They drink different wines with each course and they probably have brandy after dinner. Yet they always seem completely sober. They don’t dance like nobody is watching, fall over or snog inappropriate people.

 

More wine you ask, yars please!

More wine you ask, yars please!

 

They don’t age.

Series One began in 1912. We are now in the 1920s, they have hardly aged since 1912, even the older characters. What skin cream do they use?

How old do you think I am?

How old do you think I am?

 

They don’t raise their voices.

They disagree with one another occasionally yet they never shout, get cross or call each other bad things. Is that because they are posh? Do not posh people in the current century shout at each other? Rather than shouting, they tend to show their discontent in scathing sarcasm. It’s entertaining but is it realistic?

I'm good at sharp wit, rubbish at saying the f-word when I'm really cross

I’m good at sharp wit, rubbish at saying the f-word when I’m really cross

 

They don’t go to the toilet.

See my blog entry about people in films. The same applies to Downton Abbey.

Lady Mary never needs the throne

Lady Mary never needs the throne

 

It is never summer.

They always seem to be out and about in winter coats in the streets of Oxfordshire, oops I mean Yorkshire. Don’t believe me? Watch it.

Brrr, can someone turn the sun on please?

Brrr, can someone turn the sun on please?

 

They pop over to London as if it were next door.

London is not close to Yorkshire. This bothers me. If I were to go to London, from Shrewsbury, in the year 2014, it is a big deal. It takes planning and perhaps an overnight stay. On Downton Abbey they seem to ‘pop’ down to London and this is the age before diesel train travel.

The fast train to London

The fast train to London

 

They wear lots of clothes but they never go shopping.

Or at least they don’t seem to to me. I guess they must do, perhaps they go on Monday to Saturday when we’re not watching.

 

Besides all that I think that it is an excellent drama and I love every bit of it. On that note, I’m now going to finish my wine and watch the rest of tonight’s episode.

 

We should analyse everything conceptually as well as subectively

This is a thought I had this morning as I woke up (before I went to the usual place). I was thinking about my typical weekend breakfast choice: toast with cheese and ketchup. If I analyse this subjectively then it makes perfect sense to me – it combines three of my favourite food stuffs and keeps me going until lunchtime. However, if I analyse it conceptually, I get a very different picture. It is weird, and perhaps a little bit gross.

Yummy or yucky?

Yummy or yucky?

I think this logic should be applied to other areas of my life (and other people’s too of course).

I can think of a lot of decisions I make from which a conceptual analysis would benefit, such as: cycling to school with a nearly-five-year old in the bike seat. Subjectively this makes perfect sense since we are always running late and it gets everyone to school on time if we cycle. Conceptually, it is nuts. He’s so big that I can only get the straps done up if they are off his shoulders. His feet almost dangle to the floor. He is so heavy that I can only just get him and the bike up a short incline. I’m sure that my recent flat tyre is partly attributable to his age / weight.

 

Toby in the bike seat when he fitted it properly

Toby in the bike seat when he fitted it properly

Owning a cat provides another example. Subjectively cat ownership makes sense. The cat makes me happy. She keeps me company. She keeps my children asthma free. However, conceptually, the idea of having a cat in your house is nuts. They are hairy (and they leave their hairs everywhere), they eat a lot, they wake you up at 7am begging for food, they catch small animals and leave them in your house and they wash their bottoms ten centimeters from you when you have guests. Where is the sense in that?

Bedside table ornament or cat?

Bedside table ornament or cat?

Of course it would be exhausting to anayse everything conceptually so perhaps I’ll refrain from doing it too often. In any case, I suspect most of my decisions would turn out to be completely crazy ones.

 

 

I want to be a cat

We’ve had a manic week in the Collins household. It has consisted of long school governors’ meetings; meetings at Powis Castle; exhibition planning; college; spreadsheets; phone meetings; trips to Manchester, Leeds and London; visits to secondary schools; and last-minute trips to Charlies to buy a head torch.

Spreadsheet heaven

Spreadsheet heaven

When life is like this I barely recognise my book never mind pick it up to read it.

My dusty, neglected book

My dusty, neglected book

While I am rushing around taking children hither and tither, I find myself feeling very jealous of our cat. I want to be our cat. The more manic I am, the more relaxed she seems to be. She doesn’t have to worry about art exhibitions, online publishing, stroppy authors, secondary school applications, hiking trips and the like. All she has to worry about is food and sleep and she does that very well.

The most chilled cat in Shrewsbury

The most chilled cat in Shrewsbury

I want to be our cat. That may not be possible (not yet, at least), but the internet reckons that our relaxed cat is helping me feel less stressed than I might otherwise be. I’m sure this is true. I feel much more relaxed after a stroking session with the cat. What’s more, there are apparently 17 health benefits in total to owning a cat, and these include much more than merely ‘reducing stress’. Cat ownership can keep your heart, lungs and mind all very healthy, it can keep your children asthma free and also it will boost your immune system. That is good news since I don’t like being poorly (I have no time to be poorly with my lifestyle).

Can I use this argument to get another cat? A black one?

You know that I am adorable, and cheaper than paracetamol.

You know that I am adorable, and cheaper than paracetamol.