I'm making my way up to Ipswich today, where I will spend an entire day discussing such desperate topics as 'Algorithms and How Sweet They Really Are.' and 'Wireless-Not Just For Wires Anymore!' with the more technical folk on the project. I am not excited about it. In my manager's absence, my more senior managers are micro-managing me even more than my manager does. I am aching with tiredness and wish they'd just bloody listen for a minute. The worst of it is, it's my meeting so I have to pay attention the whole damn day.

Add on to the fact that it's three hours each way to get there on an amalgamation of tubes, trains, and automobiles (but not planes), and you can see the kind of day I've got in front of me.

Since my mind is so bouncy, my post is bouncy today, too.

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The weather is changing here-a cold chill is the undertone in the air, and the shorts are being put away for the year. Leaves are changing, plants are saying goodbye, and the dewy mornings hint that frost isn't too far away. Fall is finally in the air and I am delighted with it, I love Fall and the quiet melancholy of it. Above all, I have the deep and probing thoughts that mark Fall and tell me that it's time to kiss hello to the season.

Boots.

Oh my God, it's time for boots now.

Jeans tucked into boots, nice chunky riding boots, boho skirts with knee high boots, boots with heels, boots boots boots.

Boots'¦and shrugs.

Say it with me now: Welcome, Fall. I've fucking missed you.

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My team is used to me saying strange things. I have many expressions that get trotted out on a regular basis (one of them is 'Good job.' Did you know that's a very American thing to say? Turns out all of us Yanks run around shouting 'Good job' all the time, presumably while chugging Gatorade and wearing nylon jogging pants. I like to think it's indicative that we're all-supporting, a one-nation cheerleading crowd).

As I'm generally the only woman on a team full of testosterone, I often have to fend for myself. Sometimes we take breaks as the men need to 'go for a slash', 'meet the urinal' (Note: in this country it's pronounced 'yer-EYE-null'. Sacrilege!) or have to 'dash to the loo'. I used to struggle with how I should phrase the same issue. In this country, you get the piss taken out of you if you call it a 'restroom' or a 'ladies' room'. But I despair of calling it the usual terms 'the toilet' or 'have to pee' in front of my team, so I reached into my years in the Deep South and came up with one that seems to be ok with my team.

When I have to go, I say I have to 'shake the dew off the lily'.

For some reason, this sends the men into fits of laughter every time.

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While on the tube yesterday I sat and watched people-I had dashed out of the house too quickly and had forgotten my book, so my iPod and the people around me kept me entertained.

There was a woman in a line green sweater and short blond hair. She had a choker of freshwater seed pearls around her neck, strung on a pale wire that disappeared against her skin. The tiny seed pearls looked like dancing shimmering points across the base of her throat, little iridescent jewels that seemed to hang transfixed to her skin, and I don't remember ever seeing a more beautiful necklace on anyone, ever.

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The Deep South has also contributed to my other new favorite expression. I'll use ones for a while before putting them in the freezer in my brain, to pull out and thaw and reuse at a later date. My current favorite is: 'Can I get an amen?' which is followed by me slapping the table.

Angus hates it.

I crack up every time I frog march that one out.

******************************************************************

Yesterday I went to lunch with my Australian friend. We try to meet up once a week, and when we do we gossip about work and try to blow off steam from the stress of deadlines. She's a riot, a very strong personality, and we get along great. Yesterday we nipped into Zara for a bit of browsing, and I wound up buying two shirts and a dress styled in a 1920's style (I call it my House of Eliot dress. I can't wait to wear T-bar strappy shoes with it and scary underpants beneath it. I just love that dress.)

My friend is great as she has a degree in fashion and fashion design. This means you can try anything on and she can see the flaws or advantages in it right away. It helps to have a Fashion Designer friend when you are self-conscious and shopping for clothes. We even often get adjoining dressing rooms and pass over the clothes to and fro, as we're basically the same size (albeit I am a few inches taller and have a shoulder width a Bolshevik would envy).

What I like most about shopping with her is we always use the pronoun 'we' while shopping. So if she sees a shirt she likes, she states: 'Ooh, we like that.' Or if she sees a skirt she likes, she'll finger the hem. 'I'm not sure if we like this,' she'll say. To which sometimes I reply: 'We like the fabric, but we don't like that bric-a-brac detail on the hem. That's pushing the boho envelope too far.'

It's nice to have a friend you can go shopping with and present a unified front with.

Fact of the matter is, it's nice to have a friend.

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I was standing in the queue for coffee and bought a bran muffin to eat for breakfast (this is unusual for me, I'm not that big on muffins). My mobile rings while I am standing there.

'Hello Helen,' the smooth voice of CEO's admin chimes. 'CEO would just like an update of where you are.'

'Roger that.' I reply. 'Please tell CEO that I am in the queue and have just-I repeat, I have just-bought a muffin.'

'Er'¦what?' comes the fuzzy reply.

'Standby'¦Ok,' I say, pretending the muffin counter is indeed part of a covert military operation. 'OK, muffin choice made. Bran instead of chocolate. Over.' I say tersely, ignoring the stares of the people around me.

'Um'¦Helen, I meant a project update of where you are.'

'OK. Why didn't you say so?' I say with a grin, and proceed to rattle it off.

At least I was amused anyway.

******************************************************************

Yesterday I walked back to the tube stop from my therapists'. As dusk huddled around and the streetlights came on, I pulled my Electric Bugaloo wrap tighter around me. Walking past some of the many Edwardian homes in that north London suburb, I passed a house with two box hedges in the front garden. There was a sizeable gap between the hedges and I stopped and watched a large spider that was working on its web that branched between the two hedges. The spider had a very round, apple-green body, and it tirelessly strung its web in that space, the perfect hiding place for unsuspecting insects.

I watched the spider for a bit, staring with amazement at the bright green of the spider's body.

I knew someone would come along and destroy the web, would freak out, or would kill the spider. I knew someone would, sometime.

I wish they wouldn't.

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Sarah McLachlan, I love you to bits and I'd do anything for you, but I just ran across your recording of 'Solsbury Hill'.

Seriously.

Even my most favorite singer in the whole world should know-you should never, ever take away from the Petey G.

I forgive you anyway. Just don't let it happen again.

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Yesterday I was home late-I had my therapy session and it was a long day, so my train pulled in to the station at around 9:00 at night. Angus had lined up a nice meal, candles lit all over the house, and drew me a bath and lit the bathroom with candlelight as well. He was incredibly kind and loving, and I really needed that.

And as I made my way on the walk bridge over the train tracks, having stepped off the train on my final leg to get home, I looked up and saw the big gold moon hanging behind a veil of haze. My breath was visible in the night air-the first time since summer ended-and I smiled, pleased to be home, pleased it was Fall, pleased to see Angus.

Just pleased.

******************************************************************

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 11:10 AM | Comments (18) | Add Comment
Post contains 1479 words, total size 9 kb.

1 I can't wait for fall to get to South Carolina...sometime in mid-November...

Posted by: Z. Hendirez at September 20, 2005 11:53 AM (KIaB+)

2 Nice closing, Helen. Angus is a keeper, for sure. My mom used to say "shake the dew off my lily" and I thought it was so old-fashioned then, but now I like it. I'm sure it does make the men laugh, though.

Posted by: kenju at September 20, 2005 12:03 PM (+AT7Y)

3 My current favorite is: “Can I get an amen?” One of my favorites is (said passionately like a Southern preacher), "Can I get a witness from the congregation?!?!" And if I get a lack luster response, I come back with, "Naw (that's Southern for 'no' . A really BIG witness." Your welcome Angus

Posted by: Solomon at September 20, 2005 01:44 PM (k1sTy)

4 What a fine pile of stories. Most bloggers would settle for having any ONE of these on any given day. Shouting "AMEN!" here in Oregon. Hope you heard it.

Posted by: Old Horsetail Snake at September 20, 2005 04:13 PM (acLa9)

5 I'm waiting patiently for Boot Season. Living in Southeast Georgia, it's a brief but beautiful time.

Posted by: amber at September 20, 2005 04:15 PM (VZEhb)

6 Beautiful entries! What a lovely set of slices of life. Funny, I never ever think of clothes (or clothes shopping) any more. You have nearly inspired me to go to a shop! (Well, nearly). Anyways, back to you. ;-) Really, wonderful pieces; I totally treaure your blog. Cathy

Posted by: cathy at September 20, 2005 06:04 PM (EJ3FJ)

7 I thought I was listening to an episode of SNL there for a minute.

Posted by: drew at September 20, 2005 07:09 PM (CBlhQ)

8 You wrote: “Good job.” Did you know that’s a very American thing to say? Turns out all of us Yanks run around shouting “Good job” all the time, presumably while chugging Gatorade and wearing nylon jogging pants. I like to think it’s indicative that we’re all-supporting, a one-nation cheerleading crowd. AHAHAHAHAHA! I was NOT prepared to laugh that hard and therefore, you owe me a new monitor! AND keyboard! (I use "Good job" a lot; didn't know it was so American - how funny!) And ditto on Peter's "Solsbury". Sarah, how could you? /listening to "Solsbury Hill" right now, thanks for the reminder. :-)

Posted by: Amber at September 20, 2005 08:06 PM (zQE5D)

9 Angus is a keeper. What a guy! oh, and AMEN!

Posted by: sue at September 20, 2005 09:00 PM (WbfZD)

10 Isn't it fun to screw with upper management's heads? Bran muffin, indeed! Another worshiper of Peter Gabriel's "Solsbury Hill"? One of the staples of my MP3 collection? Awwww, Helen, I think I'm falling in love with you. Don't tell Angus (just kidding). Speaking of Angus, how sweet of him to welcome you home like that. I need to get off my lazy butt and do something like that for my wife...

Posted by: diamond dave at September 20, 2005 10:19 PM (OPflN)

11 Lovely post. I was in a pissy mood and you really gave me a few smiles. I just love seasons. It would be tiring to live in paradise - I need the fall and spring and winter, even, I need to change my wardrobe, I need to clear my head. And Peter and Solsbury Hill, I need that too!

Posted by: Kathy at September 21, 2005 12:42 AM (flb/n)

12 For going to the loo, I'd trot out that old Victorian expression: "I need to see a man about a horse." Not quite as expressive as lily dew, though.

Posted by: B. Durbin at September 21, 2005 04:26 AM (XDml5)

13 AMEN! Your situation report is great - we are amused.

Posted by: Simon at September 21, 2005 06:47 AM (OyeEA)

14 Helen, you are priceless. AMEN! ;-)

Posted by: Teresa at September 21, 2005 12:55 PM (zf0DB)

15 re: Diamond Dave's comment: Honey, EVERY man needs to do something like that for the special lady in his life from time to time. I am so envious of Helen right now, I'm almost in tears. Never has a candle been lit for me. I am the candle-lighter. When I am not the lighter of the candle, they get lit only because that's the only step between the dimmest of the 3-way bulb settings and total darkness. So romantic of Angus. And wouldn't you like your wife to be the envy of all her friends? Oops, sorry, Helen. My story, in your comments. Beautiful day, Helen, beautifully told. Amen.

Posted by: scorpy at September 21, 2005 04:13 PM (wrRwi)

16 I too adore this time of year. My wardrobe really is best suited to it, I don't do the summer look too well and I can just about cope with spring. But in celebration I bought new boots, and I will be getting some more too! Oh how I love this season But wait... you get boots AND Angus! Amen to that sister! AxXx

Posted by: Lemurgirl at September 21, 2005 07:04 PM (Ld7dX)

17 Every woman should have a friend she can be catty with. Fashions, folks, whatever. Someone she can lean over and say, "Did you SEE that?" Every woman should have one. And I'm with you. I don't think of fall as melancholy, though. For me, it's a new school year with the smell of pencils and erasers and the trees changing into their autumn beauty. I LOVVVEEEE the crisp air and bright sunshine combination. And I love you, too baby girl. You're the best! xoxo

Posted by: Margi at September 22, 2005 07:23 AM (nwEQH)

18 Nice post. And yes, I do say "good job" to my team too. On the other hand, we have "bio breaks" here -works for both genders. "Shaking the dew off your lilly" is so graphic, yet old fashinoned. I don't think I could ever pull it off without laughing (but then again, I have never even visited the south).

Posted by: Nicole at September 23, 2005 12:38 AM (4ynmE)

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