My Month in Numbers 2016: March

Hello hello.

I try never to explain my blogging schedule here - no "I'm sorry I haven't posted in so long" posts from me because, who cares? But I'm going to explain today purely because I can't be bothered to change the intro to make it make sense.

And so ... I started this post yesterday but didn't get around to finishing it because I was out at my book club and for the 2nd time this month, my neck's gone [well not 'gone' like when you push a Sindy doll's head right down and she ends up looking startled, you know what I mean] but 'gone' as in: hurts. So ... here's yesterday's post today.

< End of explanation that no one cares about. >

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That was frost this morning you know; on the roof of our extension. I saw it while I was cleaning my teeth. [From this window, if you're wondering]. Grey white and cold-looking. And it told me that, unlike what I'd thought before going to bed, when I'd planned what to wear today, I would actually still need to put on my winter coat today. And so I have.

In fact ... I was still wearing it as I began typing this. [It was chilly on campus this morning.]

So, that's today covered, but how about I fill you in on the remainder of this one and only 'March 2016' ... how about you settle in [with or without your coat on, I'm not fussy] and 'll share my month ... in numbers*.

*[My Month in Numbers is a summary of the month's events where I - and anyone else who fancies it - hangs their every day stories on the peg of statistics. For more details on how you can do this visit here.]

I printed 590 photos. 
Naturally, this isn't something that happens every day but - in this digital age - getting photos of all your special events and holidays is no longer something we* even do every season. Or every year.

Or even every few years.

I'm sorry? What's that you're saying? I can't hear you over the din of all the scrapbookers yelling "Huh. Speak for yourself. I still print photos!!!" I know, I know ... and you're doing sterling memory-keeping work and future generations of historians [and current professional printing companies] will no doubt worship you for it. But you're the exception. [Now there's a title for your next layout.]

I didn't even print photos professionally when I was scrapbooking, let alone since I stopped so it took something pretty momentous to get me sitting all day at my laptop, juggling two external hard-drives selecting which photos -from thousands - I should upload and send to print. The momentous thing was my Dad's birthday.

Like mine this year his was a 'special' birthday; in the way that, again like me, if anyone had sprung anything vaguely 'special' on him he wouldn't have been thrilled.  So what to buy him? How to celebrate?

Then someone posted an offer on Facebook where you could get photos printed at a reduced cost [yes, since you ask, it was a scrapbooker] and it set me thinking.  I thought about all those photos of holidays, special occasions, loved ones, days out and favourite scenery that my parents have taken but which - unlike the photos of mine and my sister's birth until the dawn of digital cameras - have remained in limbo, on a computer drive, rarely to be flipped through and reminisced over.

And that's when I decided to secretly copy hundreds of my Dad's photos from his computer while he was out [clearly I've missed my calling as a spy]. Then my sister and I also looked through our own files for photos that told other stories, then I sorted them all out, renamed them all with the dates they were taken, and picked the best to upload to an online printing service. A total which came near to 400. [I almost needed a winch to pick them up when I collected them in store the following day].

Inspired by the idea I also sat and uploaded an additional 200 photos of mine and James's photos covering the last two year and had those printed too. Just another 12 or so years left to catch up on ...

On the afternoon of Dad's birthday we sat and leafed through them all together. As if it was 1989:

All of which turned out better than the evening before where we'd gone all out to for a birthday meal where, despite having booked well in advance we waited 90 minutes to be served our food, and at least two of the dishes ordered were sold out [which might not have been so bad if they weren't both for the same person. Let's just say she wasn't amused.] 

I won't say where, but, needless to say, we won't be rushing back in hurry. The saving grace of the evening [apart, of course, from all celebrating together, of course I thought of that first. Of course ...] was that, as it was a special occasion, I at least I had an excuse to wear that jacket:

[I revealed all about the jacket of which the fur may be fake but the 'now I'm 40 identity crisis' is real in last month's number round up here.]  

I enjoyed wearing it even if my look was somewhere between a Bronte sister and a Jim Henson puppet. 

And while we're on the subject of Brontes and dark clothing ...

In the year of the 200th anniversary of Charlotte Bronte's birth ...
I attended another fun evening hosted by The History Wardrobe, this time it was 'Gothic For Girls': 

The talk - complete with period fashion items to illustrate - is a tour through the history of black clothing and the rise of the Gothic novel. The beautiful reference floor of Middlesbrough library was a splendid backdrop to the dark and dramatic fashion history: 

The talk starts with the original definition of 'Goth' way back in the 3rd Century .... us right up to the present day, with Lucy Adlington ending on the treatment of the 'Goth' subculture in recent years bringing back memories of being called a Goth at school. Which I wasn't.

But then I think maybe anyone without a bubble perm and a flammable shell suit got called that in 1990. Or maybe it was the bat earrings I wore on a non-uniform day once...

Either way ... people's opinions on my clothes has never changed the way I choose to dress. Not then. Not now. [I refer the jury to Exhibit B: the silky black faux fur coat above].

While we're lurking in the shadows with fashion and novels that go bump in the night  ...

We spent approximately 4 hours in Whitby. In the dark. 
We'd actually gone for a very light, bright and cheerful purpose ... Alun Cochrane's  stand-up comedy show:

And - it's only fair to say - that he lived up to his side of the bargain entirely; it was a great evening of laughing, inside in a tiny venue with around 90 complete strangers.

It's just ... things had already been a bit brooding when we tried to kill some time after tea but before the venue opened.

[BTW yes, tea was fish and chips. That's just the law when you're in Whitby. Someone I know once had a hot-dog when we took him there and, quite frankly I've never thought the same of him since].

For a start it was cold. For another start it was dark. Which, as an adult I can perfectly cope with ... in the sky. But across the sea? Along the harbour? That was another story.

I don't like deep water at the best of times but all all that black, moody sea really made my post-fish and chips stomach turn. And then there were the spooky  black moors on the drive home ... is it any wonder that ...

That night I had 2 full-blown nightmares with a side-serving of weirdness and panic.
I'll spare you the details but there were faces, and blood, and sharp implements. It's like I said on Facebook the following day:

"20 March at 12:04

Last night I went to a comedy gig where I laughed lots but then came home and promptly had 2 nightmares, one weird dream and in between couldn't close my eyes without seeing/thinking scary things (including thinking someone was going to break in and kill us both with a crossbow!). Am thinking maybe next week I'll go and see a horror film to maybe induce some nice light-hearted dreaming."

Is it any wonder that I turned to colour?

I compiled 17 rainbow colour-ways of new-style 'Interesting Bits' kits:

They're in the shop now if you fancy a browse.

In other number news:

• I started working on 50 collages [to keep up-to-date with that project follow @thecopyandpasteproject on Instagram]
• I posted 32 mini March moments to Instagram - I love micro-blogging over there, do stop by and catch up over there - @withjuliekirk - if you're around.
• I watched 27 back-to-back episodes of Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee, an online show where ... erm ... comedians get in cars and go for coffee with Jerry Seinfeld. I shouldn't need to tell you how good it is; the "27 back-to-back episodes#2 bit was a clue.
• Approximately 26 years after we first watched it on VHS holed up in my bedroom and 29 years after it was first released [yes, it is- and indeed you are - that old]  I cashed in a birthday voucher offer from my sister to watch The Lost Boys together. Unlike us ... the film hasn't dated. But then that's vampires for you. 
• I read 6 books all of which you can find linked to via my reading record Pinterest board. 

If I was like Oprah [well, that sentence could go anywhere, couldn't it?] if I was like Oprah, where she buys everyone the same gift for Christmas because it's so great, then I would buy you all a copy of Naomi Wolf's part memoir, part biography of her father, part instruction book for living a fulfilling, creative and contented life: The Treehouse, because it's a seriously life-enhancing read.  

But I'm not Oprah so you'll have to buy it for yourself [or borrow it from a library like I did].

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So ... that was my March: 

• A complete and utter month-long Gothic-fest. All black clothes, dark water, hanging out in Dracula's town ... at night ... and all those pretty vampires. 
• All adrift with a sea of paper ... and, well actual sea. 
• And all fur coat and no ... neck.

If you ever want to join in with your own #MonthinNumbers .... go for it, then let me know so I can swing by. 

Whatever April brings I hope it includes us, you and I [well, the nice, normal ones amongst you anyway] bumping into each other online somewhere. Either here, on Twitter or Instagram.

See you sooner or later. 

Julie

My Month in Numbers 2016: February

Hello hello.

After 73 episodes of my Month in Numbers I think I've landed on the easiest way to collect, annotate and photograph them, in real time: my Instagram account. 

That's not to say that I'm going to stop blogging them too, I'm not. At least not for the foreseeable future. But I just thought I'd mention it in case you're one of the people who've often said you'd join in if only you could find a way to keep track of your stories.

Well ... using Instagram's now the simplest answer I can give to that. And you don't even need to use it to keep track of them for a subsequent blog post ... sharing photos and using the hashtag  #monthinnumbers is all you need to join in, right then and there.  

Anyway ... the majority of my number-related tales this month began life over on Instagram but let me share them with you here [along with the original descriptions from IG], starting with one of my favourites ...

"Today I'm here for a public lecture. 10 years ago I came here to begin my job in disability support. 8 years ago I took a screenwriting night class here. 18 years ago I came here for lectures on my English degree. And around 50 years ago my Dad did his day release joinery training here before it was even a university. This building is in my DNA. #campustales #monthinnumbers"

To me that encapsulates everything that's worthwhile in recording my Month in Numbers; the numbers themselves aren't the important part, they just elegantly draw together various threads of my life and help me to capture a lifetime in a single moment.

And from a single moment ... to 10,000 of them ...

We visited the 'Manifest: 10,000 Hours' installation by Clare Twomey at York Art Gallery: 

As the official description explains: "Communities of helpers in York and beyond have assisted Twomey in the production of the bowls. Each bowl takes an hour to make and represents one of the 10,000 hours it is said to take to become a master craftsman.".

It was a wonderful thing to behold, for its artistic qualities, its conquering of logistics, its practicalities [how on earth did they stack them all so carefully?] and also ... for its defiance of preciousness ... as there are no barriers preventing you getting as close as you want to these delicate items:

No warnings not to get too close. No instructions to back off if you're carrying a big bag etc. And I find something comfortingly sanguine and trusting about all that.

In fact had such a brilliant time at the newly refurbished York Art Gallery last Saturday I plan to write a separate post about it soon!

But for now let's delve a little further back into February ...

"Today we finally put the Christmas decorations back in the loft. Only 48 days after we shoved them in the back bedroom out of sight" #monthinnumbers"

And ever since sharing this tale I've learned that we're not alone.

According to the comments I received here are more of us out there who - despite taking the decorations down well in time for Twelfth Night - just never quite took them as far as where they actually belong for the other 10/11 months of the year!

And now we all know that we're not the only ones we can support each other through our lazy - but not unique - housekeeping revelations.

Oh and ... while this next photo has nothing to do with numbers, it did happen during this long-awaited tidying, and so, I'm wondering ... has this one ever happened to you too? Anyone???

One minute you're putting Christmas decorations away, the next ... there's a man dangling his didgeridoo out of your loft hatch:

And, while we're on the subject of sharing our foibles ...

5 of my 'Bad Portraits'appeared on the Marie Claire UK website [along with plenty of my words]. 
When I pitched and then wrote an article all about my Bad Portraits project to such a well known publication, intellectually, I knew that - in order to have the piece make any true impact on readers who don't know me from Adam - I was going to have to include photographs. And bad photographs at that.

So yes, while it was amazing to see my words reach a new audience, it was also a little weird and led to what someone has since told me is known as a 'vulnerability hangover'; I'd shared awkward things and felt a bit naked as a result. But fortunately like any hangover ... it cleared up with some TLC,  and it certainly won't stop me continuing to share things which .... [dare I stoop to the cliche? Apparently yes I do] 'keep it real'. Hence this next number ...

Before spending 1... I found 5 more ...

"I went to the toilet at work and in the bottom of the bowl, glinting out at me from beneath the water, was a shiny 5p piece. #priceincrease #by4p #monthinnumbers (If you need 5p it's still there, library floor 1, cubicle 2.)"

Update: I've been back since and the 5p's no longer there. I checked.

Now while we're keeping things real ... how about a glimpse into another of the moments which characterises my current 'I've hit 40 so to hell with it' mood ...

"In hair salon. The words 'occipital bone' and 'No.3' have been used. 
#becauseitllalwaysgrowback 
#monthinnumbers"

So ... I'd been thinking about getting an undercut for a while and eventually this conversation happened:

Me: "I just want it all thinned out again and ... I don't know if I dare mention it ...it's just, I've been thinking about ... getting the back shaved."
My hair stylist: "Why daren't you tell me that?"
Me: "Because I know if I tell you, you'll make me do it".
My hair stylist: "Well, we're doing it now!"

And off she went to get the clippers ... which led to the words mentioned above 'occipital bone' and No.3'. Which led to this ...

For the record: it's quite hard to take a photo of the back of your own head! And when I took the first blurry photo [left] I assumed that by the end of the month, the time Month in Numbers came around, I'd have had someone else to take a decent shot of the end result but I forgot. And so these are currently the only photographic evidence I have of my encounter with some clippers and a hairstylist who I trust with .... well put it this way, in around 7 years of styles she's never let me down with a cut and so ...  clearly, I trust her enough to let her shave my head!!

I took the other equally poor photo [right] this morning, which still give a great idea ... but hey ... I'm all about embracing the #BadPortrait. Apparently.

Continuing in the vein of 'I've hit 40 so to hell with it' ...

I bought a faux fur jacket for £20 based solely on the fact that Axl Rose wore something similar 25 years ago!  

Firstly - that's a terrible screenshot I took, if you'd like to see the jacket in action you can watch this video ... or, if you're not into early 90s Guns N Roses concerts that end in a stage dive and a riot ... you can just take my word for it.

It all stemmed from watching 'The Most Dangerous Band in the World: the story of Guns N Roses' a documentary on BBC4 [at the time of writing, 29.02.16 it was still available to view on BBC iPlayer for a few more days]. And when one clip showed Axl wearing nothing but boots, a pair of white hot pants and a jacket like this and I had some kind of style epiphany and I turned to James saying: "That is an amazing outfit". [It took some clarification to confirm to him that, no, I wasn't joking ...]

And then ... cut to, about a fortnight later, in Roman Originals of all shops [not exactly a rock n roll retailer ...] I spotted the jacket.

The. Jacket.

And of course I had to buy it. How I could I resist reliving my youth?

• A youth where - had I come across that jacket - I would have worn the life out of it. [Despite it likely leading to people at school talking about me. That was kind of par for the course back then.]
•  A youth where my sister and I saw Guns N Rose 3 times. And loved every minute of every one of those concerts ... except maybe the time those people fell under barriers in front of us and we had to hold a crowd back ... or the time we were crushed and I could lift my feet off the floor without falling over because people were so close ... or the time we got drenched to the skin in the rain and had to buy an XL t-shirt just to keep warm ...

Ah, but aren't those the moments that prove you were really there? The moments that may well be 25 years ago ... but when you relive them, the take you straight back there.

Right back to the huge stadiums, the vast crowds, the loud music, the screaming.

The singing in the sunshine.

The dancing in the rain.

And now ... if you'll excuse me ... I have got to go and pick an outfit to wear with a fake fur coat because this is not 1991 any more ... and, nostalgia or no, I will not be matching it with white hot pants.

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If you fancy joining me in sharing your number-crunching stories on Instagram simply use the #monthinnumbers hashtag and tag me @withjuliekirk in your post if you want me to drop by.

Failing that ... I'll see you for another round up here, same time next month.

Until then here's to a shaved-head-and-fake-fur embracing bold March ahead!*  [*Metaphorically and/or figuratively speaking. Whichever you feel comfiest with.]

Julie x

My Month in Numbers 2016: January

Numbers you say? Important numbers that defined January?

That's what I'm meant to be documenting here, now, isn't it? [Any one can join me by doing the same, for full details visit the Month in Numbers info page.]

OK then, then there's no two ways about it. I'm going to have to have to be brave, take a deep breath, and include this one aren't I?

This month I turned 40. 

I didn't know if I was going to mention that fact here or not. It's a big number.

• Emotionally it's a number that sounds like it comes with its own set of judgments; a number that changes things: "I don't want to reach 40 and not have XYZ", "I can't do/be/wear that now I'm 40", "How can you be 40 and not do/be/have XYZ?"
• Intellectually ... having already lived through reaching other 'big' ages - 18, 21, 30 - I know that the number doesn't change anything, except maybe other people's perceptions of you. Which you can't do anything about anyway. 

So hey, I turned 40. But I don't plan on changing too much any time soon.

If anything, I'm going back to where I started - when people used to say I was a lovely little boy - as the T-shirt I bought to wear as my birthday outfit kind of made clear:

Basically it's the slogan T-shirt equivalent of  the Thomas Merton quote:

•  "Finally I am coming to the conclusion that my highest ambition is to be what I already I am." 

And that's the attitude with which I'm facing my 40s.

Regarding the rest of the outfit, the heels were new ... a concession to my now very apparent 'adult lady' age. While I tried them on the shop assistant asked if they were OK to which I replied "I'm just trying to work out if I can walk in them." Because that's an important factor in buying something you're going to wear on your feet.

You don't get to be my ripe old age without developing that kind of wisdom.

[Note how, in the bottom right photo, taken a few hours after lunch, I'd kicked off my heels and replaced them with cosy bed socks. Again ... that's the kind of mature wisdom I can live with.]

My birthday cake was intended to serve 12 (I can only assume that meant 12 different people).

The only thing I declared I truly wanted for my birthday was a full size version of my favourite cake from The Olde Young Teahouse: a vanilla 'Gold Bar' cake. And I got one: 

Apparently when James collected it they told him that it would serve 12 - however, because I'm not a party person, there weren't 12 people around to eat it.

And so ... 6 of us had a slice each after a Sunday lunch of my choosing at my parents' [for the record: I chose mince and dumplings. Party. On.]. The following day 1 other slice made its way to someone else ... but that still left James and I to plough through the remaining 5 slices over the rest of the week.

Which we managed. No problem. In fact ... after a respectable gap of 6 or 7 hours post-birthday-lunch, we ate a second slice each at tea time!

A few more birthday stats:

• Reaching my birthday meant I'd opened the last of the 40 'personal Advent' gifts I received from my family, one per day, in the run up to my birthday.
• If you missed the post where I not only shared all 40 gifts but also all the tips you need to set up a 'personal Advent' for someone you know too - then hop back 1 post to read My Own 'Personal Advent'. Or 'How to turn any birthday into a Christmas'.

I received 11 cards:

They were lovely [and only 2 mentioned my age, which was lovelier still.]

One of the nice things about opening the envelopes of the handmade cards was guessing - correctly - which friend had made each one before opening up the card; each one revealed the individual style of the creator!

All the numbers ...
Over the Christmas and birthday gift-giving season I must have received at least 7 notebooks and yet ... when I saw this one, on the shelf in TKMaxx, in all it's leathery embossed numerical glory, there was no way I was going home without it:

I'm still deciding how to use it. Making notes on stories for my Month in Numbers would be the obvious one! Or ideas for a book about life-documenting with numbers? Maybe ...

In other book news: I made a pretty good start to my reading year by getting through 5 [almost 6!]books.

• This includes two books from my 'Lucky Dip' book club list: Primo Levi's The Periodic Table and Speedboat by Renata Adler. [Both from the 70s, both unique in style and structure, both new authors to me.
• One non-fiction memoir-ish type book How Not to Travel the World by Lauren Juliff, which fits in with my 'research!' category. The 6th, nearly complete book, is Stephen King's part-memoir, part-writing-manual, On Writing.
• And the last two are classics - yet they are both the first time I'd read anything by either author: Ernest Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea and William Faulkner's As I Lay Dying.
• Both of which I found, loaned, read and returned to the university library (on campus) in under 24 hours. The joy of spending my days currently accompanying a student who studies in the library 12 hours a week! 

I'd fallen in love with the Faulkner by the time I reached the second page... 
I must have read and re-read the section which begins "Jewel, fifteen feet behind me ..."  at least 3 or 4 times in a row ... to let the imagery sink in:

Just perfect. Tells you everything you need to know about the two characters. It's all their ... from the very start.

[There are links to the books mentioned on the Pinterest board I'm using to save my 2016 reading list. Recommendations are always welcome.]

And while we're on the subject of the classics ...

We sat in cinema seats J1 - J5 to watch an encore performance of the Branagh Theatre's production of Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale. 
This is the view in the cinema during the interval - of the theatre during the interval - where you can hear the hubbub of the crowd ...

The clock in the top left is a countdown so you know when you need to take your seat for part 2. 

It starred Kenneth Branagh and Judy Dench, plus other, not quite household names such as 'him out of that new Jekyll & Hyde series that I only watched one of then gave up on' and 'him out of Lark Rise to Candleford, with the curly hair'.

If you fancy catching it and - it's Keneth Branagh for goodness sake, why wouldn't you?? you can catch an encore of the encore screenings in some cinemas on Tuesday 9th February. You can find all the details here.

And, in another instance of culture worth leaving the house for ...

3 hours after submitting my 3rd yearly tax return ... I took myself out to a public lecture given by artist Alice Fox: 

I didn't know if I'd get there, what with all the heart-stopping, blood-pressure raising, accounts-submitting happening in the morning; so the moment I finished and printed out my proof of submission I was packed up and off ... headed to something I'm far more comfortable with: taking notes in a lecture about art!

Unusually for me though, this wasn't for work, so I wasn't taking notes for someone else, I was doing it for me. I think some call it an 'artist's date' [isn't it a Julia Cameron thing? where you take yourself out to an inspiring place?]. And  I already knew of - and admired - Alice's work and really wanted to hear her talk about her work. So I went. [If you love the idea of working with nature, found items, rust, paper and more ... then absolutely do check out her work. She has a website and you can get a quick 'in' to her style through her @alicefoxartist Instagram page here.]

Strangely, she talked about having self-published several books of her work ... which tied in nicely to another event I took myself along to in January, one hosted by an  appropriately numbery themed company ...

I attended a workshop by 6E, an indie-publishing company, called From Notebook - to Published Book.
Because ... clearly book publishing is on  my mind this year!

This was the stationery I picked to take with me: a 'Best Seller' notebook [one of those 7 new ones I mentioned earlier] and a 'Be Yourself' pencil. I reckoned it was a pretty good combination of attitudes with which to face the unknown with ... 

And finally ... as the format of this final photo might suggest ...

I've been sharing a lot of everyday nonsense on Instagram this month. 29 nonsenses in fact.

I used to think that Instagram wasn't going to be the place for me. I like imagery ... but I love words. I love Twitter.  But then the more I got into Instagram ... the more I realised that rather than use it to share perfect images, I could simply use a quick photo to help me tell tiny tales. And now I'm hooked doing just that.  

If you feel the same, and you want to use IG to document your #monthinnumbers ... then I'd love it if you'd help me build a numbery themed tiny tale telling community over there. For now - let's just use that as the hashtag ... and I'll get to thinking how we can expand! 

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So, fare thee well January: you've stolen 39 from me and replaced it with a daunting 4 and 0. 

I know you didn't mean to scare me, and you tried your best to distract me by sending in cake and gifts and thoughts of book publishing. But FYI: while the cake and gifts did the trick ... the thoughts on book publishing? Well they're just as scary as the whole being 40 thing! 

Or maybe that's how you intended it? 

Hello February, can you hear me? Take note from January .... if you've got something you need me to face up to ... can you throw in some cake along with it? Just to help me along? And maybe some burgundy leather boots too? Because ... alongside seeing my name on a book cover, I've got an appetite for a pair of those right now too. 

Wishing you an equally fair February ahead.

Feel free to reuse my plea to February for your own ends, substituting 'cake' and 'boots' with whatever gets you through.

Julie

p.s: Responses to this post via comments, shares, retweets and shoving it  under your friend's nose to read because you think they'll like it, are all most gratefully accepted! 

My Month in Numbers 2015: December

You know ... if either of us blink we're going to miss it.

The end of the week ... the end of the month ... the end of the year could easily give us the slip while we're sat here scrutinising the menu in the remaining box of chocolates for something that isn't 'the coffee one' or while we're trying to remove from our chins that elusive bit of glitter that's been there, on and off, since November.

So how about we take this chance to pause and reflect on December before January turns the page on us and starts an entire new year. And how about I throw in a few statistics to help me along the way. Here's my month ... in numbers ...

[If you're new here - hi, you're looking good, all that turkey and tinsel has done wonders for your complexion - if you want to know more about this feature just drop by this page].

The first week of the month saw me spending ...

3 hours 20 minutes in the cinema:
The Bristol Old Vic production of Jane Eyre was brought to the National Theatre from where it was broadcast live into cinemas.

It was a strange, energetic, minimalist kind of production - for example ... this is not just Thornfield Hall ablaze* ... it's the entire set for the 3 hour long production:

Screenshot of the Jane Eyre 'Production Gallery' on the National Theatre site.

****168 year old spoiler alert: it was the mad woman in the attic what done it!

And, at the risk of glossing over all of the merits of the actual performance, perhaps the most impressive element of the evening was the fact that I managed to sit still through each and every one of those 180 minutes.

Well, I say I sat 'still' .... I did definitely sit.

If you like the look of the production [and can face watching the big screen without being able to get up to make a cuppa whenever you fancy] then visit this page on the NT Live site to find out if there are any Encore performances you can catch [simply type in your location and it will find your nearest venue].

Fortunately for you you won't have me jiffling away in the seat next to you.

But then again ... neither will you get to share in my never-ending supply of Werther's Originals and fruity travel sweets. It's all swings and roundabouts.

While we're on the subject of travel sweets ... this is the scene before James and I set off on a trip to Bowes Museum for their Christmas market. Note the temperature ...

16℃ at 8am on a December morning. 16℃. At 8am. In December!!! 

Because I've been doing this number lark for quite a while now [this is, after all, my 72nd Month in Numbers post!] I can consult my statistical back-catalogue to find that in December 2010 [my first MinN year] we were regularly experiencing temperatures of minus 11! 

And, while I'm not a huge fan of being freezing ... it just doesn't feel right and proper to have warm hands at any given point in time throughout December. Let alone not needing to wear a hat [whoever heard of such a thing?]

We haven't had a single frosty day here yet and there's something to be said for a crisp frosty day to get you feeling Christmassy. All in all it's a good job there've been other things on hand to make it feel a lot like Christmas. For instance ...

I saw 3 reindeer! 

Alas ... they weren't flying over the roof of my house [although I did wave to Tm Peake as he passed overhead in the International Space Station this month!]. Rather they were attending the Christmas market. [Even Santa's helpers need to find those last minute gifts.]

This was also the week I heard 3 people describe reindeer as being like big dogs ... 

1. The first person was me. When a crowd cleared revealing the pen where the reindeer were being kept my flight or [appropriately enough] flight reflexes kicked in until I realised that they weren't actually big dogs. Phew.
2. Then, as they walked past the pens, I heard a Dad explaining to a toddler he was carrying that "No, they're not doggies". 
3. And finally there was this, from a BBC news report about an escaped reindeer: "Warren Porter, who took a picture of Bjorn as he galloped up Carlton Hill, said at first he thought it was a "big dog"". 

And boom! It's not just me who's been fooled into the resemblance! 

Although, thankfully, it's a relief all round that this is just a repeated case of mistaken identity. Because, really, the idea of Santa landing on my roof accompanied by 9 big dogs would certainly have taken the edge off any anticipation I'd had as a child!

[BTW you need to visit the actual story about the reindeer for two main reasons ... [1] the headline is a work of bizarre genius: "Runaway reindeer that escaped from Tesco event recovering" and [2] the look of sheer 'couldn't give two hoots now I'm freeeeeee' in Bjorn's body language as he sprints down the road!]

And now, seeing as it's [almost] Christmas, allow me to make the tortured link from an escaped reindeer stalking along the road ... to another kind of deer ...

It was a 2 deerstalker month: 
Deerstalker No.1 occurred on our festive trip around York [which I wrote more about here]

Then, a fortnight later, in an antiques shop in Barnard Castle, we came across Deerstalker No.2:

And if casually finding another one wasn't enjoyable enough ... check out the label inside this one:

You couldn't make it up could you?! 

Clearly the Gods of Antiquing are also excited about watching the new - Victorian - Sherlock in just one day's time!!

And, now let us glide from one instance of a Cumberbatch to another [entirely arbitrary one]...

In case you're thinking I was in danger of passing up the final chance this year to remind you that I saw him in Hamlet this year [which I may have mentioned ... once or three dozen times] ... then let me share this possibly-Hamlet-inspired car-dirt graffiti I spotted in a car park on the same day ...

Fill in the 2 blanks.[Or should that be the 'To' blanks?]

Surely those 2 wiped-out spaces once read "To be" and "Or not". Surely?

Well ... that is the question.

December was also the month I magically* 'glued' 3 photos together to make my 1st 'gif': 

*OK, so, the 'magic' was actually via gifcreator.me and the photos show my sister and I trying to get a decent pose of us in our Christmas outfits where it's a wonder our two large 50s inspired skirts actually fit in the room let alone the shot. Then when I flicked between them in my photo-viewer we seemed to move ... and I was moved to conquer the gif! Et voila. Merry Christmas!

Right ... we're almost there now ... I promise there'll be no further mentions of Cumberhamlet all year ... so let me just squeeze in a few more things before I leave you to 2016 ...

CLARIFICATION: someone new here last month inquired about the nature of the relationship between James and I, which was understandable considering that the post she'd read was all about staff Christmas parties and I didn't clarify that we don't work together. So, for the record:

1. James is my partner. Not in business, or crime. He's my husband if you will. At least he would be if we'd ever gotten round to getting married. Which we haven't. 
2. Neither are we co-workers or colleagues. And please don't suggest he's my 'boss' ... it'll only give him ideas. 

And, should you need further proof that one of his roles in life is to keep me happy ... who else could I sweet-talk into dressing in 90s denim for a photo-opportunity? 

Whilst seeking out Christmas decorations in the loft James found his 25 year old denim jacket [And I made him pose in it because a blogger's gotta do what a blogger's gotta do.] 

It's what he used to wear when we first met. And - to his credit - it still fits him, and yet ...

... just because one can wear 1990s denim ... it doesn't mean one should. Not for a second time round at least!

And while we're talking about slightly misguided wardrobe decisions ...

I bought 40 tea bags for 99p and started saving myself 75p per cuppa.
Now, this statistic might sound far too much like maths for anyone in a post-Christmas dairy/meet-induced stupor to care about, so let me give you the salient points:

• after years of paying for a cup of tea from the cafe at work I realised it would be much cheaper to just bring my own teabags and buy a plain hot water instead; 
• so I bought a pack of 40 bags from a nearby 99p shop and started keeping a handful of them in a little purse in order to easily take then down to the cafe with me to drop into my hot water.

Which was all well and good ... at first. Until the day I forgot to take the purse out of my pocket and spent the afternoon like this:

As I shared on Instagram: 

• Forgot I'd been walking around work with the purse with all my tea bags in tucked in my shirt pocket. #onenormalboob #onebigone

Ah. A mention of Hamlet ... and a boob joke.  I'm ending the old year as I mean to go on. 

And so ... 

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As always you're more than welcome to join me in documenting your own days in numbers:

• And there's plenty of info on how to do just that here.
• If you've never given it a go ... maybe the new year might be where you begin? I'll look forward to it!
• To link up your own post drop me a comment here and then leave me your link.
• But - if long form blog posts aren't your thing - feel free to join in via social media too! Via Twitter @notesonpaper or Instagram @withjuliekirk or my Facebook page. #MonthinNumbers

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Now I'll let you get back to deciding what to wear, who to kiss, and which resolution to break first after midnight.

And while you're there ... remember to do a little jump tonight ... right as the 2015 rug is pulled out from beneath your feet, take a deep breath, and then dance, dance, dance your way across the new year's pristine floorboards. 

In heels. 

Let 2016 know you've landed ... 

Julie x

My Month in Numbers 2015: July

Hello hello.

It's the last day of the month which means one thing: I'm rounding up the events of my month with the aid of a number or two, mainly as a hook to hang my stories on. And I've got a lot of stories, because even when there aren't any stories to tell I find stories to tell. Even if it's only about toilet paper.

And it has been about toilet paper several times over the 5-plus years I've been doing this #truestory.

And you're welcome to share yours.

Events and numbers that is. Not toilet paper. I've got my bases [ahem] covered on that front thanks.

[If you're new here, or even if you're old here and just want to join in for the first time, here's where you can pick up some tips on how to do just that.]

And so ... let's start at an appropriately 'starty' place - with some numbers I gathered on the 1st of the month ...

415 years = the age of Doddington Hall[just outside Lincoln]

Isn't it splendid? Finished in 1600 it's been occupied ever since and is still a lived-in family home today. And, what could be better than living in an Elizabethan Mansion house ... than living in an Elizabethan Mansion house with two topiary unicorns on the front lawn?

Incidentally, July entered 2015 to, almost literally, a blaze of glory as the Met Office announced it as the hottest July day on record! In our car we clocked the temperature as 39.5 degrees 

It was an exquisite day in which we browsed the quilt exhibition 'Voices from the Inside' [it's on until the end of August so if you're interested in quilts with interesting stories, as many were made by prisoners and soldiers.] And it was while wandering around their gardens I took what is my current 'favourite photo of mine of the year'.  I was playing around with the fully manual mode on my camera and, either by luck or judgement, I got this, which I love:

Fortunately Mr.Shakespeare was an obligingly patient model. Statuesque even.

Also in the gardens I thought I'd grab an overtly numbery photo for Month in Numbers:

If I remember rightly they're identifying markers for their lily collection. 

And while we're on a blatant 'number' themed photo theme ... how perfect is this? 

The Numbers = the name given to this circle of houses: 

These are directly opposite Lincoln Cathedral [like, within spitting distance of it. Not that you would ever spit at Lincoln Cathedral. That would be unforgivable. I have gotten ice cream in my hair outside it once ... but that's were as I'm drawing the line.]

And, while we were taking the roof tour of the Cathedral the guide mentioned that these houses were called 'The Numbers' because ... they were the first houses in the city to get house numbers!

Have you ever even considered that there was a time before house numbers?? Me neither!

While in Lincoln I also spotted ...

21 out of 25 Lincoln Barons found and photographed. 
These funny squat little chaps were dotted around the city in a treasure trail, to mark the 800th anniversary of Magna Carta [of which there's a copy held in Lincoln]. Each 'Baron' was decorated by a different artist and represented a different aspect of local life or a person or community group.

I might well share photos of more of them sometime, but for now here are the first 2 I found [the first one was just few feet from our hotel at the top of Steep Hill]:

Did someone mention Magna Carta?

800th Anniversary of Magna Carta. 
For anyone who doesn't know what Magna Carta is I'm going to send you over to the British Library's explanations as I can't do it justice!

In short .. it's a document from 1215 that sort of, kind of, marks the beginnings of the human rights and freedoms we enjoy in the UK today [and, I believe the US constitution was influenced by it too]. Anyway ... there's a new exhibition centre inside the grounds of Lincoln Castle where you can view an original copy of it. 

They don't allow photography of it but ... they do allow photography of the vast wall of the building where they've printed out the entire document highlighting some of the key phrases in gold:

If you ever allow yourself to think that we, in our 21st century sophistication, are more 'evolved' than people of the 13th century you need to go and stand in front of that wall and read what they were setting down 800 years ago. It certainly wasn't all dusty narrow roads and chickens wandering about being chased by peasants. I'm ashamed of my ignorance!!

And now from the sublime to the ridiculous ...  

73 = the number of items of cutlery we bought for £4.00 in a junk shop:

We didn't need cutlery but we bought them mainly for the 5 lovely old knives which were just like the one my Grandma always used to use to spread butter. You know when something just does the job it's meant to do perfectly? That's those.

I knew my Mam still had my Grandma's original one, but the handle's broken and, finding 5 of these together - with handles in tact - I thought they'd make a nice little gifts for her and my sister [and us too!]. So we bought the lot ... which just happened to include 68 other pieces too!

As we were on holiday when we bought them we left them in the car [because heck, who'd take them up to their hotel room? What on earth would the cleaner think we were doing in there? School catering?].

But having them in the boot of the car made for some interesting percussive sounds every time we went over a speed-bump!

22 = the number of SPAM messages I returned home to ... which is 548 fewer than I returned to when I went away in March! 548 fewer! Clearly my service provider has upped the 'filteriness' of their SPAM filter lately!

Perversely [which is the right term ... for more reasons than one] I do, sometimes, kinda miss some of the more creative and bizarre messages I used to find in there from time to time. Yet again over 100 SPAM messages a day was getting a bit much, whatever the entertainment value.

3 = the pieces of mail that landed on my doormat but which weren't for me. 
I wrote about them here and .. if you're interested ... I've got an update on one of them ... which I'll report in a post of its own next week sometime.

3 = the number of items of gloriously life-affirming mail I received the week after in an act of reparation by the Gods of the Letterbox.

1. was the update I'll update you on next week
2. was my Hamlet tickets!! They've arrived!!! I'm actually going to see Hamlet!! It's real!!
3. and the 3rd piece of happy July mail was a complete surprise gift from an amazingly thoughtful friend. And a zebraful gift at that.

Gods of the Letterbox you outdid yourselves. I'm calling us even now. A 3 all draw.  

And finally ...  
48 miles travelled to visit the 60 acres of land that make up Yorkshire Lavender:   

That's actually another contender for my favourite photo of 2015 ... clearly my new-ish camera is working out for me! 

I did plan to share lots more photo of the visit but in case I don't get around to it soon, if you're thinking of going, go, go now, and go quickly before they harvest the lot at the end of August!

Ever since I learned of its existence earlier in the year it's been on my list of things to do and, yet coincidentally, just in the last few weeks I've noticed a spate of lavender field visits cropping up in my online life.

Sandie shared her photos of another UK field on her Facebook page while Hazel blogged her visit to the lavender fields all the way over there in Utah. There's obviously been something in the water or the air lavender, obviously] that's been sending us all to seek out these fields this Summer.    

So last Saturday, on what turned out to be the best day in a few weeks, and with the impending harvest time in mind, we too headed off to take in the sight and scent.  And there was lots of this happening: 

... and not just by me. There were dozens of camera, big lenses and small all attempting to capture the loveliness of the scene.

I don't know about you but, as a fairly introverted yet dedicated life-documenter and blogger, I can sometimes feel a bit self-conscious  being the only person whipping out her camera to capture all kinds of moments and vistas. But there ...

... truth be told I felt a little self-conscious for being one of the hoard of folk crouching and bending and angling themselves to get the perfect shot! It was common. Trendy even. And goodness knows that's not a space I ever imagine myself taking up!

Obviously lavender fields are where its at in 2015. Has anyone told Pinterest or Instagram?

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So that was my July. Some history, some sunshine [although not as much as I'd have hoped], some postal shenanigans and a percussion section's-worth of old cutlery.

As ever ...

• if you're just here to read ... then I'm glad you did. Putting words under your nose [lavender scented today, naturally] is absolutely one of my favourite things to do. 
• and if you're here to share you own blog post featuring your vital statistics for the month ... pleeeeaaase read my post and leave me a hello at the same time. Don't just drop your link on me from a height like a seagull struggling to fly off with an iPhone/dog/child. Thanks!!

May the Gods of the Letterbox [which would totally be my band name if I was in any way musical] look beneficently on your doormat during August.

Thanks for stopping by today. 

Julie