from a place of wrath and tears
Oh my, September came and went for sure. Outside we have our protests, but autumn , so it always felt to me, is a season for introspection.
Maybe, someday, I'll share what I've found.
Meanwhile, as the French say, excuses are made to help yourself, so here: since the beginning of September my dad moved in with the hubby and me. All's well, though maybe a bit small in the housing department. Let's give it at leas two months more before making purse-changing decisions about size and modalities of housing.
Between this new way of living and the new fencing season, in the club as well as in the fencing federation, I've little energy left to type. So I'm niggling away at the things that I always wanted to do with Dreams of Cold Stone, with images and font.
Who knows, one day I'll run out of excuses and I'll have no choice but to luluize the bloody manuscript.
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Showing posts with label fencing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fencing. Show all posts
Paris
was fun, exhausting, and it was great to see that even on the scale of a world championship event organizers can manage to screw up pretty big. But there was great fencing to see, and quite some surprises.
Things I'll remember of Satur/Sabreday: the American Homer who was up against a French opponent twice in a row (first Apithy, and what a match that was!, then Lopez), which means having the whole of the Grand Palais, as in hundreds of Frenchies cheering their fencer on and pin-drop silence when you score a point, and just marching on. That's quite some mental strength there. And of course the beautiful final: the German Limbach (who's 194cm but uses this length with surprising elegance and explosiveness) against the Korean Won (who can jump impressively high, probably over Limbach if he really wants to) and Won won.
Spent Sunday in my favorite Parisian museum, l'Hotel National Des Invalides, though the expo on the Tsars was a bit thin. But for all you digiblips that like to see weapons of all sorts, real fighting ones to beautifully inlaid hunting weapons and honorary sabres and uniforms and half the collection of Vauban's architectural models (the other half is kept in Lille) and also a good expo on the world wars: get there early, and you can easily while away a whole day in whatever period you like, and your ticket remains valid for the day (so you can leave and do something else if you're the kind of digiblip that could actually get enough of weaponry).
Monday was Epee day at the Championships, and though not my weapon, saw some great stuff too, even if our favorites managed to shoot themselves in the foot whenever they could. Had to leave before the finale to catch our Thalys, and then found out that the finalists we predicted did everything the other way around. Silly epeists...
On the writing front: on the train to the international station of Brussels Cow Watcher handed me an excellent solution for a problem that came out of something it thought up for part 3 in the Barynn trilogy and which has been bugging me for a very long time. Alas not an easy and simple solution, but damnit, a good one.
Things I'll remember of Satur/Sabreday: the American Homer who was up against a French opponent twice in a row (first Apithy, and what a match that was!, then Lopez), which means having the whole of the Grand Palais, as in hundreds of Frenchies cheering their fencer on and pin-drop silence when you score a point, and just marching on. That's quite some mental strength there. And of course the beautiful final: the German Limbach (who's 194cm but uses this length with surprising elegance and explosiveness) against the Korean Won (who can jump impressively high, probably over Limbach if he really wants to) and Won won.
Spent Sunday in my favorite Parisian museum, l'Hotel National Des Invalides, though the expo on the Tsars was a bit thin. But for all you digiblips that like to see weapons of all sorts, real fighting ones to beautifully inlaid hunting weapons and honorary sabres and uniforms and half the collection of Vauban's architectural models (the other half is kept in Lille) and also a good expo on the world wars: get there early, and you can easily while away a whole day in whatever period you like, and your ticket remains valid for the day (so you can leave and do something else if you're the kind of digiblip that could actually get enough of weaponry).
Monday was Epee day at the Championships, and though not my weapon, saw some great stuff too, even if our favorites managed to shoot themselves in the foot whenever they could. Had to leave before the finale to catch our Thalys, and then found out that the finalists we predicted did everything the other way around. Silly epeists...
On the writing front: on the train to the international station of Brussels Cow Watcher handed me an excellent solution for a problem that came out of something it thought up for part 3 in the Barynn trilogy and which has been bugging me for a very long time. Alas not an easy and simple solution, but damnit, a good one.
flux continued
this week running around to get what's needed done to get this job which already had me running around for the last two weeks. Yes, a job! Ain't that cool?
And of course, now also running around to get the stuff done I kept postponing since the life of the jobless stretched out into infinity and well who cares when this or that trash finally gets brought to the recycling center? Well it doesn't stretch into infinity, not really, so...
And this weekend we're off to Paris to see some World Championship class Fencing, which means some more flux, as I'll need to plan the packing carefully.
I've got this feeling this month, even if it's only just starting, is going to be over in a blink of an eye.
But the good news/job prospect has Cow Watcher singing with joy. I mean seriously, soon there will be trains again, and cows, and no way to avoid writing.
Meanwhile I've finished reading Bacigalupi's The Windup Girl, currently into Palmer's Red Claw.
And of course, now also running around to get the stuff done I kept postponing since the life of the jobless stretched out into infinity and well who cares when this or that trash finally gets brought to the recycling center? Well it doesn't stretch into infinity, not really, so...
And this weekend we're off to Paris to see some World Championship class Fencing, which means some more flux, as I'll need to plan the packing carefully.
I've got this feeling this month, even if it's only just starting, is going to be over in a blink of an eye.
But the good news/job prospect has Cow Watcher singing with joy. I mean seriously, soon there will be trains again, and cows, and no way to avoid writing.
Meanwhile I've finished reading Bacigalupi's The Windup Girl, currently into Palmer's Red Claw.
Radio silence
Sshht, I'm way too busy with this to keep up with my imaginary and virtual audience, dearest digiblips. Yup, that's how low you rank in my life, how I'm doing in your ranking?
I'll be back to normal after the weekend, if the body craptastic holds up during the beatings I will be enduring and handing out.
I'll be back to normal after the weekend, if the body craptastic holds up during the beatings I will be enduring and handing out.
And hopefully my judgment of distance has improved since this picture was taken.
Talking to walls
or thin air for that matter is a hobby of mine, dearest digiblips. So really, I'm not offended by the silence when silence is what I not only expect but partly also hope for.
In real life however I'm not so keen on silence, especially when silence is what I expect nor hope for. Also not so keen on people who support you all the way except for that last step. No stomach for that "yes yes go kill that dragon we're right behind you, really!" sort of situation, not when you're the finding all those supporters lacking when the dragon puts its beady eye on you. But, as a writer of unpublished shit, I'll give it a bit of spin and pretend it's a learning experience. And it is true, in yesterday's meeting of the fencing club direction I've learned quite a bit about group dynamics, about the courage of men, of how things are discussed and decided before and after the meeting but not during (what kind of crazy expectations is this silly blonde having anyways?), of how easy history is rewritten and how easy it is to get from SNAFU to FUBAR.
So, FUBAR got all over yesterday's non-review and it won't be for today either. We'll see. I must now take time and pour energy into separating those mountains that I can move, and those mountains I'll only ever be pretending to be moving. Because after yesterday's meeting it was clear that all the time and effort I've put into the club the last couple of months comes down to me desperately trying to fill my empty life and that honestly not where I thought I was. Stupid enchanted forests.
In real life however I'm not so keen on silence, especially when silence is what I expect nor hope for. Also not so keen on people who support you all the way except for that last step. No stomach for that "yes yes go kill that dragon we're right behind you, really!" sort of situation, not when you're the finding all those supporters lacking when the dragon puts its beady eye on you. But, as a writer of unpublished shit, I'll give it a bit of spin and pretend it's a learning experience. And it is true, in yesterday's meeting of the fencing club direction I've learned quite a bit about group dynamics, about the courage of men, of how things are discussed and decided before and after the meeting but not during (what kind of crazy expectations is this silly blonde having anyways?), of how easy history is rewritten and how easy it is to get from SNAFU to FUBAR.
So, FUBAR got all over yesterday's non-review and it won't be for today either. We'll see. I must now take time and pour energy into separating those mountains that I can move, and those mountains I'll only ever be pretending to be moving. Because after yesterday's meeting it was clear that all the time and effort I've put into the club the last couple of months comes down to me desperately trying to fill my empty life and that honestly not where I thought I was. Stupid enchanted forests.
Shtuff
I came back from a busy weekend to find my feeddemon overflowing (135 posts to read? Are you crazy? Don't you people have a life?), so I had to kill some blogs I was following.
Part of the deluge however are the NIN teasers on the How To Destroy Angels project, which sounds like yumyum and more. Can't wait till summer.
On the 1st I met up in Planckendael zoo with ex-colleagues. We had a pick-nick the other visitors were jealous off, caught up with each other's lives, and discussed and laughed about the miserable state of Belgian politics. Since the party was mixed French and Dutch-speaking, hilarious scenes ensued when we started yelling at each other. I was actually pretty glad to see the shocked and horrified reactions of the nameless masses around us, when part of the group was lagging behind and I yelled (in Flemish): "Always the same with those Walloons, always have to wait for them lazy asses!"
The day after I had another tournament. In the elimination I came up against the same woman that whooped my ass during the Championships but this time I kept my cool and managed to use my superior tactics. I conquered her, but then came up to someone who's been in the top 3 for years and years and years. I did my best, but the dying went quickly. I ended up 6th (of 11).
The problem with senior women's saber is that mid-list hurdle: the group is quite small, and the top of the group are those women who have years of experience and youth going for them, and the difference between lower half and upper half is actually quite extreme. But I'll get them, slowly but certainly.
Also, I applied for a job that seems invented just for me, so cross your fingers!
Today I hope to finish some of the document I'm preparing for the club, so I can finally turn my attention to Tiger again and clean that mess up.
Part of the deluge however are the NIN teasers on the How To Destroy Angels project, which sounds like yumyum and more. Can't wait till summer.
On the 1st I met up in Planckendael zoo with ex-colleagues. We had a pick-nick the other visitors were jealous off, caught up with each other's lives, and discussed and laughed about the miserable state of Belgian politics. Since the party was mixed French and Dutch-speaking, hilarious scenes ensued when we started yelling at each other. I was actually pretty glad to see the shocked and horrified reactions of the nameless masses around us, when part of the group was lagging behind and I yelled (in Flemish): "Always the same with those Walloons, always have to wait for them lazy asses!"
The day after I had another tournament. In the elimination I came up against the same woman that whooped my ass during the Championships but this time I kept my cool and managed to use my superior tactics. I conquered her, but then came up to someone who's been in the top 3 for years and years and years. I did my best, but the dying went quickly. I ended up 6th (of 11).
The problem with senior women's saber is that mid-list hurdle: the group is quite small, and the top of the group are those women who have years of experience and youth going for them, and the difference between lower half and upper half is actually quite extreme. But I'll get them, slowly but certainly.
Also, I applied for a job that seems invented just for me, so cross your fingers!
Today I hope to finish some of the document I'm preparing for the club, so I can finally turn my attention to Tiger again and clean that mess up.
Shtuff
Championships:
did better in the poules than I expected. It is becoming a habit to scare women who are way better than me, physically and tactically, and then struggle against those I should be able to turn into minced meat with my eyes closed. And then I did it again in the elimination, which is stupid, because I was really well placed after that poule and had a decent chance of getting through 2 rounds. Some things you learn in training, and some you learn on tournaments. I've got a pretty good idea where I went wrong, so I won't be doing those things again next Sunday, on yet another tournament. At least, I will try. Because you can rationalize all you want after, reason don't help much when you're facing your opponent. So I learned great stuff and managed to keep my body in working order, which is a victory in itself.
I did some more work on Tiger on Saturday, between the bouts of the hubby's epee fencing, so also yay.
And Belgium still exists, though the air of cabaret and circus remains strong. We'll see what the week brings: more clowns, some good old-fashioned pillories, or off with their heads?
did better in the poules than I expected. It is becoming a habit to scare women who are way better than me, physically and tactically, and then struggle against those I should be able to turn into minced meat with my eyes closed. And then I did it again in the elimination, which is stupid, because I was really well placed after that poule and had a decent chance of getting through 2 rounds. Some things you learn in training, and some you learn on tournaments. I've got a pretty good idea where I went wrong, so I won't be doing those things again next Sunday, on yet another tournament. At least, I will try. Because you can rationalize all you want after, reason don't help much when you're facing your opponent. So I learned great stuff and managed to keep my body in working order, which is a victory in itself.
I did some more work on Tiger on Saturday, between the bouts of the hubby's epee fencing, so also yay.
And Belgium still exists, though the air of cabaret and circus remains strong. We'll see what the week brings: more clowns, some good old-fashioned pillories, or off with their heads?
Spring is also
Hard work in the garden. Which leads to pain, so I'm going to whine for a bit.
Since it's going to rain the next few days I went the extra mile with the revamping the rasp- and blueberry plot, and crapped out my cracked spondylus, which wasn't doing so great anyways the last couple of days. And with the snipping away at dead raspberry wood with the pruning shears, the sprained thumb is also back from being nearly gone. Stupid thumb is probably the only thing keeping the usual De Quervain at bay. Nagging posterior tibial tendon chiming in. And of course, because I've been accommodating the back and ankle in my sleep the last few days so now my lateral collateral ligament is acting up. Accommodating the sprained thumb in my sleep is still with me in the frayed tendons of my deltoid. All I need now is the good old ITBS rearing its head and this picknick will be complete.
I've strapped in my right hand with extra care, and taped the ankle, and will be wearing my knee support. Training is going to be ball! Mummy fencing, yay!
Since it's going to rain the next few days I went the extra mile with the revamping the rasp- and blueberry plot, and crapped out my cracked spondylus, which wasn't doing so great anyways the last couple of days. And with the snipping away at dead raspberry wood with the pruning shears, the sprained thumb is also back from being nearly gone. Stupid thumb is probably the only thing keeping the usual De Quervain at bay. Nagging posterior tibial tendon chiming in. And of course, because I've been accommodating the back and ankle in my sleep the last few days so now my lateral collateral ligament is acting up. Accommodating the sprained thumb in my sleep is still with me in the frayed tendons of my deltoid. All I need now is the good old ITBS rearing its head and this picknick will be complete.
I've strapped in my right hand with extra care, and taped the ankle, and will be wearing my knee support. Training is going to be ball! Mummy fencing, yay!
Shtuff
Difficult weekend.
Stuck at fencing training doing no fencing: chronic tendinosis acting up and teaching me about a couple of tendons I never knew I had. I just love my genetic heritage.
It sort of sucks extra when you can't do any fencing and the next day you're stuck at an epee tournament (designated driver). I can only appreciate epee if I've had my saber training. Seriously. Epee goes on forever. And ever. Especially if the organization got surprised by the turnout of women which screwed up the timetables on the men's competition. Also, for some reason they put all the real judges on the women's poules, which meant the men had to judge their own matches, which is pretty usual for local tournaments, but dudes. Epee fencers. Not in a hurry. At least with real judges they'd had someone to keep some tempo.
So it went on forever. And ever. And then some more.
Okay. Done ranting.
I did finish another book from the pile and started a new one when we arrived at the tournament and I'm already halfway through. Might finish it later, in the tub.
Saturday evening, whilst coming back from the city with the hubby after dark, we noticed the Trek of the Toads has begun. There they were, sitting in the roadside grass, pretending to be rock and leaf. Some of them had already tried to cross to the ponds of the castle on the other side, and a whole lot probably made it. Others try to pass through our house when I leave the backdoor open.
The Trek of the Toads is an annual event (though this year it was huge, must have been a good toad year), and an even surer proof than ladybugs and fleas that spring has begun. I'm already looking forward to the bundle of fun which happens later in the season when cats meet young toads on their way to new territories. Remember to not go barefooted through the house.
Other annual events are the Trek of the Grasshoppers (end of summer, grasshoppers migrate through and over our house towards the busy road) and the Trek of the Polecats (start of autumn, sadly, known by roadkill). And no, end of summer does not equal start of autumn.
Okay, time for those ice-packs.
Stuck at fencing training doing no fencing: chronic tendinosis acting up and teaching me about a couple of tendons I never knew I had. I just love my genetic heritage.
It sort of sucks extra when you can't do any fencing and the next day you're stuck at an epee tournament (designated driver). I can only appreciate epee if I've had my saber training. Seriously. Epee goes on forever. And ever. Especially if the organization got surprised by the turnout of women which screwed up the timetables on the men's competition. Also, for some reason they put all the real judges on the women's poules, which meant the men had to judge their own matches, which is pretty usual for local tournaments, but dudes. Epee fencers. Not in a hurry. At least with real judges they'd had someone to keep some tempo.
So it went on forever. And ever. And then some more.
Okay. Done ranting.
I did finish another book from the pile and started a new one when we arrived at the tournament and I'm already halfway through. Might finish it later, in the tub.
Saturday evening, whilst coming back from the city with the hubby after dark, we noticed the Trek of the Toads has begun. There they were, sitting in the roadside grass, pretending to be rock and leaf. Some of them had already tried to cross to the ponds of the castle on the other side, and a whole lot probably made it. Others try to pass through our house when I leave the backdoor open.
The Trek of the Toads is an annual event (though this year it was huge, must have been a good toad year), and an even surer proof than ladybugs and fleas that spring has begun. I'm already looking forward to the bundle of fun which happens later in the season when cats meet young toads on their way to new territories. Remember to not go barefooted through the house.
Other annual events are the Trek of the Grasshoppers (end of summer, grasshoppers migrate through and over our house towards the busy road) and the Trek of the Polecats (start of autumn, sadly, known by roadkill). And no, end of summer does not equal start of autumn.
Okay, time for those ice-packs.
Spring, please
Or maybe not.
Weather-wise, we don't have much to complain about in Belgium these weeks, in comparison to the storm damage of last month in France, and the snow surprises in Germany and Spain. It's not even all that cold anymore, and spring is definitely sneaking closer. But with the treacherous cold wind, I keep getting attacked by some snot bug, with which I'm terribly fed up after the last couple of weeks. Especially since when I'm not all snotty because of a bug, I'm getting all snot-nosed because of allergies, even when it's still far too cold for anything to be in bloom.
Only last week I found out exactly why the damned condition is called HAY-fever --the fencing judge course took place on a sports accommodation domain where they also give horse riding courses. And who'd have thunk that hay is involved in the upkeep (or that it's not the manure that is the hardest on the nose).
I was recovering nicely from the damage all the sneezing and snottering had caused (the snot bug's always ready to take advantage), but yesterday I went to a info-session which took place in a small room above an indoor swimming pool. Now, I've been staying away from such places for decades for reasons of dermatographia, but it appears I've managed to develop a fabulous sensitivity to the reek of chlorine. More sneezing and snot followed, and I'm not out of the woods yet.
So bring on the spring, but please be gentle. This year is promising to be horrible on the allergies.
In other news:
- lots of fencing. Competed on Sunday and was pretty impressed with my own legwork. Now if I could actually get a grip on how to make it a good legwork day, I'll be doing okay in the Belgian Championships next month.
- writing, not so much. Gave the inhabitants of the attic a small peekaboo, to remind the cow-watching-and-plotting part of my brain of what elements are important so it can continue its swell job while I concentrate on: reading! I ordered a shitload of new books two weeks ago, of authors old and new but all none I've read before, and I've dug in. What can I say, words need to go in before words can come out.
Weather-wise, we don't have much to complain about in Belgium these weeks, in comparison to the storm damage of last month in France, and the snow surprises in Germany and Spain. It's not even all that cold anymore, and spring is definitely sneaking closer. But with the treacherous cold wind, I keep getting attacked by some snot bug, with which I'm terribly fed up after the last couple of weeks. Especially since when I'm not all snotty because of a bug, I'm getting all snot-nosed because of allergies, even when it's still far too cold for anything to be in bloom.
Only last week I found out exactly why the damned condition is called HAY-fever --the fencing judge course took place on a sports accommodation domain where they also give horse riding courses. And who'd have thunk that hay is involved in the upkeep (or that it's not the manure that is the hardest on the nose).
I was recovering nicely from the damage all the sneezing and snottering had caused (the snot bug's always ready to take advantage), but yesterday I went to a info-session which took place in a small room above an indoor swimming pool. Now, I've been staying away from such places for decades for reasons of dermatographia, but it appears I've managed to develop a fabulous sensitivity to the reek of chlorine. More sneezing and snot followed, and I'm not out of the woods yet.
So bring on the spring, but please be gentle. This year is promising to be horrible on the allergies.
In other news:
- lots of fencing. Competed on Sunday and was pretty impressed with my own legwork. Now if I could actually get a grip on how to make it a good legwork day, I'll be doing okay in the Belgian Championships next month.
- writing, not so much. Gave the inhabitants of the attic a small peekaboo, to remind the cow-watching-and-plotting part of my brain of what elements are important so it can continue its swell job while I concentrate on: reading! I ordered a shitload of new books two weeks ago, of authors old and new but all none I've read before, and I've dug in. What can I say, words need to go in before words can come out.
Loose ends
Last week and next week most of my time will be devoted to fencing; this weekend I followed a course to become juge, and I passed the theoretical exam. And next week is the annual general assembly of the club and I have to get the financial report in order.
Because of the judge course I completely missed the fabulous new evidence that the biggest problems in Belgium are all invented or created by the government:
The government decided on holding a memorial in Brussels where almost none of the survivors or family members came. Images show the Bozar hall with hundreds of empty seats. This happened because:
- Buizingen/Halle is one of those "difficult" communities in the belt around Brussels. You must speak Dutch over there, so according to the cabinet of Internal Affairs it was impossible to hold a bilingual service there (a lot of French speaking victims) without exploding the language issues between the Flemish and Walloon. Hence, Brussels. Belgians, from both sides of the language barrier, blinked in mute consternation.
- another reason for holding it in Brussels was that the cabinet interpreted the protocol concerning a-religousness very strict. The first plan was to hold the service in the church of Buizingen. The Catholic Church, who has no problem with inviting other religions to join in such services of national import, kindly declined when the cabinet demanded that there would be no praying whatsoever of any kind during the service. Like all Belgians, I'm pretty proud of our strict divide between church and state, but like most Belgians, again: blinking in mute consternation.
- about 700 tickets were sent to family and survivors, and they were invited to come to Brussels by train. A train driver died in the crash; the NMBS (the national train company) got only 25 invites for execs and employees combined. Talk about a cock-up.
- most of the victims found the memorial way too soon: the debate on how and why the security of the train network still isn't up to specs after the last great train disaster in Belgium is still raging, there are still many unanswered questions. I should mention that only last week a train performed an emergency stop after missing a red light: there is a shortage of personnel, for years now, meaning extremely stressed drivers, not enough resting time between trains/journeys, and a witch hunt on tardy trains only adding to the stress of the drivers.
Totally unrelated: time for another query.
Because of the judge course I completely missed the fabulous new evidence that the biggest problems in Belgium are all invented or created by the government:
The government decided on holding a memorial in Brussels where almost none of the survivors or family members came. Images show the Bozar hall with hundreds of empty seats. This happened because:
- Buizingen/Halle is one of those "difficult" communities in the belt around Brussels. You must speak Dutch over there, so according to the cabinet of Internal Affairs it was impossible to hold a bilingual service there (a lot of French speaking victims) without exploding the language issues between the Flemish and Walloon. Hence, Brussels. Belgians, from both sides of the language barrier, blinked in mute consternation.
- another reason for holding it in Brussels was that the cabinet interpreted the protocol concerning a-religousness very strict. The first plan was to hold the service in the church of Buizingen. The Catholic Church, who has no problem with inviting other religions to join in such services of national import, kindly declined when the cabinet demanded that there would be no praying whatsoever of any kind during the service. Like all Belgians, I'm pretty proud of our strict divide between church and state, but like most Belgians, again: blinking in mute consternation.
- about 700 tickets were sent to family and survivors, and they were invited to come to Brussels by train. A train driver died in the crash; the NMBS (the national train company) got only 25 invites for execs and employees combined. Talk about a cock-up.
- most of the victims found the memorial way too soon: the debate on how and why the security of the train network still isn't up to specs after the last great train disaster in Belgium is still raging, there are still many unanswered questions. I should mention that only last week a train performed an emergency stop after missing a red light: there is a shortage of personnel, for years now, meaning extremely stressed drivers, not enough resting time between trains/journeys, and a witch hunt on tardy trains only adding to the stress of the drivers.
Totally unrelated: time for another query.
Mystery of the day
Why pay for a domain name with "saber" in it, then use a picture of a woman holding an epee to explain the basic saber position and furthermore use basic foil or epee knowledge to continue on the parries?
Allow me to paraphrase the holy book here:
"[...] shalt thou count to five, no more, no less. Five shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be five. Six shalt thou not count. [...] Seven is right out"
Allow me to paraphrase the holy book here:
"[...] shalt thou count to five, no more, no less. Five shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be five. Six shalt thou not count. [...] Seven is right out"
