Molto Bene

May is approaching and with it, improved weather and the holiday season, the time of the year when the days are longer and brighter and I get to enjoy the prospect of a trip or two abroad that isn’t work related.

The first of those trips is a long weekend to Bologna in Italy. Mrs PM and I plus five friends are popping across to the home of spaghetti bolognese and I can’t wait.

You may also know that this year I have decided to attempt to improve myself by adopting several 30 day challenges throughout the year. My reasons for doing this are as follows.

First, I have been tired of the same old tired New Year’s Resolution because I fail miserably. By forcing myself to concentrate on something for 30 days.

Second, other bloggers have attempted something similar and it yields results.

Finally, I am aware that this challenge is probably a bit of a midlife crisis. When I analyse my reasons for wanting to do it, I simply want to add a few more strings to my bow. Regular readers will know that I really want to do something other than my chosen career and by trying a few other things I get a sense of relief and a little bit of hope that something will appeal to me so much that I take a chance and go for it.

Anyway, enough of that crap; it’s early days yet.

My current 30 day challenge is to learn basic Italian in time for our trip to Bologna. And I am thoroughly enjoying it. One of the things I’ve always regretted is my limited knowledge of languages and the struggle I have when immersed in a culture that speaks little or no English, and I can’t even begin to make myself understood.

I’m really lucky that I speak English, American, Canadian and Australian fluently. My French is good enough to make myself understood, my Spanish is improving rapidly and my German needs some work.

Before April 1st this year, my Italian was limited to molto bene, scusi and ciao

But now I can say a lot more and I understand the basics. And all this from between 20 minutes and an hour a day learning from the internet using two tools that are absolutely free to use.

The first is Duolingo that offers lessons in the form of challenges, a bit like a game. Gradually you learn phrases, sentence structure and vocabulary, writing out translations in English and Italian and also practicing listening and speaking.

The second is Memrise that helps improve vocabulary with flashcards and repetitive tests with picture and prompts to help to jog your memory if you forget.

I have been using these tools to great effect to strengthen my Spanish skills and I am now able to have a very good level of understanding of online Spanish magazines as a result. I’m not fluent by any stretch of the imagination but I can get the gist of what I am reading.

I have 12 more days of Italian and then a real test when I actually go there and try to speak with the locals. Wish me luck; I think I’ll need it.

I have so far completed five of these 30 day challenges.

(1) Walk at least two miles every day – This was easy, In January I made a real effort to force myself outside every single day no matter how cold and miserable it was. As a result, I achieved a little more fitness than I would normally have done and since then I have continued to walk on average two miles a day on most days since then.

(2) Improve Spanish – I concentrated on my Spanish using Duolingo and Memrise for the whole of January as well as attempting to read Spanish web sites and watch Spanish videos. This was tough and still is but I have improved my vocabulary and reading skills.

(3) Photography – I spent February trying to improve my photography skills, reading books and trying to get to grips with Mrs PM’s digital SLR. I had an ally with this because Mrs PM is a great photographer and explained a lot of techniques she had learned on a course she attended a few years ago. I am attempting another photography challenge in May because of holidays. This time the emphasis will be to actually take Mrs PM’s camera and try to take as many cool shots as possible.

(4) Creative Writing – A few years ago, I bought two creative writing books and I have never read them. They have simply gathered dust on my bookshelf. In March I decided to blow off the dust and read them from cover to cover. Also, in March I write down lots of notes for writing ideas including a novel. I thoroughly enjoyed this challenge and it has sown the seed of a massive challenge later this year.

(5) Life Coach – When I found the creative writing book, I also spotted a book about being your own life coach. Both Mrs PM and I have no idea where it came from (she thinks I bought it and I think she bought it – perhaps it’s a survivor of my time with my ex-wife – I can’t remember). Anyway, I decided to read this too because, the author claimed, the book can change your life and make you grab your desires by the scruff of the neck and totally change its direction for the better. The truth is, that while I found it vaguely interesting, the book was full of Mr Motivator ideas like “JUST DO IT!!!” and while I could relate to some elements of it, most of it was aimed towards those of us who can burst into a room and announce “I’M HERE!!” with no fear of the consequences. All of the stories of success were a bit too contrived for me. It was good to read though – not something I would normally even consider picking up.

What’s next?

Our big holiday this year is Brazil in October so, depending on how successful I am with Italian, I am planning to spend 30 days learning Portugese.

One challenge I have been dying to try, but lacked courage and belief in my own ability to do so, is to write a novel in November (National Novel Writing Month – or Nanowrimo). This is a 30 day challenge just waiting to happen – so I am going for it.

Mrs PM can play a piano so she has been talking about buying a digital piano for a couple of years now. We’ve chatted about this and I said that if we buy one, then I will spend 30 days trying to teach myself how to play it. I can read music (well I used to be able to) so how hard can it be? Don’t answer that – I know it’s hard.

Anyway, enough of this nonsense for now.

Wish me luck with my Italian and I will let you know whether I made a complete arse of myself in Bologna or not in due course.

Our House In The Middle Of Our Street

In my wrap up post for last year, I suggested that I might try a couple of 30 day challenges, in order to have a little fun, learn something new or just make a couple of tiny improvements.

I have just completed two in a month.

I thought I would start with easy challenges, just to ease me into the concept and acclimatise me to the discipline required.

The first challenge was to walk at least two miles a day for 30 days. I usually go for a lunchtime walk at work just to get me away from my desk but I don’t usually force myself to walk as far as two miles, usually a little under. Also, I don’t walk every day at weekends.

This proved to be easier than I thought. Armed with an application on my phone and a pedometer to measure distance etc., I marched around the streets with my trusty iPod as a guide, pumping out decent well timed music.

When the snow came, last week, it was a little tougher but I completed the challenge with a 2.3 mile walk around Didsbury.

The pedometer proved to be extremely useful because it measured how far I walked during the rest of the day, rather than just on a two mile walk around the block – I was surprised to be honest that I actually walked probably twice that distance just ambling around the office, running up the stairs etc.

My second challenge was to dedicate an hour a day to learning Spanish. Again, this seemed relatively easy because I have been learning on and off for the best part of two years now, but this was tougher than I thought. Again, my smartphone came in very useful, allowing me to learn new vocabulary with a suitable application, and to read a Spanish web site whilst on a bus, at home on the settee or even on the throne.

Now that I am used to it, I will try to read a little Spanish and learn some grammar and vocabulary on a more regular basis.

So now to the next challenge: I am going to start improving my photography. I have an assistant for this one because Mrs PM is a keen and able photographer, so I will spend the next 30 days either taking photos or reading some of her books on how to improve my techniques.

“What has all this malarkey got to do with the blog post title?” I hear you ask.

Allow me to elaborate. I’ve taken a few photos from around my house this weekend and I thought I would share them. They’re nothing special but I hope that may change with a little practice and insight from Mrs PM and her books over the coming month.

Here they are with suitable captions.

There's a meerkat in our mug cupboard

I don't even drink spirits!!!

An English Rose

The Warrior who guards the gasfire

Flower and lamp

A chequered bathroom

A glimpse of my CD collection and, yes, it is in alphabetical order!

Cheshire Cat seems happy.

Mantlepiece

Some books - they are not all mine!

A boring cloudy day through a pretty window

Straight from the 1970's to our bedroom

And, of course, I can't take photos of our house without my three bosses.

Jasper has had such a busy day - he's exhausted!

Poppy is terrified - what on earth is the oaf pointing at me now?

Liquorice plotting her next attack from the comfort of her furry tube.

If you fancy letting me know what you think, please feel free.

Scary Things

I read a quote recently that has, sort of, inspired me a little. Quotes don’t normally do that but this one has struck a bit of a chord.

The quote comes from Eleanor Roosevelt:

“Do one thing every day that scares you.”

The idea behind the quote is that a lot of people are quite happy sitting in their own comfort zone. Now while this may be absolutely fine for most people, the downside is that people tend to end up in a little bubble of coziness, reluctant to try new things to expand their horizons.

I’m not saying that is a bad thing at all. On the contrary, for most people, myself included, it is a good thing to live within your own harmonious world and be happy with that.

Looking at my own life, I have done some scary things but they have been few and far between. Moreover, in most cases I have had my arm twisted and not chosen to do these things to push myself – I’ve been pushed into doing them by other people.

Now I could quite happily just continue my life the way it is, but to be honest, there is a deep part of me that wants to step outside my comfort zone and, perhaps, try something every day that makes me feel uncomfortable or just plain scared.

I wonder, would something like that really make my life more interesting?

It’s tempting and a tiny voice is urging me to push myself to embrace this philosophy, but not for the reasons that you may think. I am not a Mr Motivator type person who wants to pour his soul into his career; the truth is that there’s not much of my career left when I think about it. I’ve been working within the rat race for thirty years with probably around fourteen years to go. It’s too late to drive myself to the limit, career wise – and besides, I am not willing to give 200% to somebody else (let’s forget the fact that you cannot physically give 200% anyway, which makes these bullshit merchants on shows like The Apprentice look utterly ridiculous anyway!).

If I were able to give 200% - or more accurately 100% - okay maybe 50% - then I would want it to be for me and my loved ones, not some corporate motivation machine.

So why is this little voice in my head telling me to scare myself every day?

It sort of started while I was revising a little Spanish vocabulary, a few weeks ago. As I sat there in front of my computer screen, cursing my failing memory when I couldn’t remember the Spanish word for knife (it’s cuchillo by the way), I had a moment when I started contemplating regrets in my life.

"What on earth are you talking about?" I hear you cry. "Just because you can’t remember a bit of vocab, you start thinking you are a failure."

Not quite, dear reader. I started regretting not attempting to learn Spanish earlier in my life. I am 52 years old and I have only been half-heartedly trying to learn this language for a couple of years.

My regret is that I didn't start to learn Spanish when I was 21. The reason why I didn’t, to be brutally honest, is that I was too scared to start. I learned French for five years at school and my head is full of French words that have embedded themselves into my brain – words that I can’t forget. And the reason why they are embedded into my memory is that I was forced to learn them.

When it came to Spanish, or indeed any other language, I was scared to commit myself to a proper course, to spending time immersing myself in a language instead of wasting my time doing other more mundane things.

Now, many years later, I am frustrated by the fact that I am not a polyglot. I love travelling but it would be so much better if I could go a foreign country and spend my time chatting to the local people in their own language instead of struggling with a pigeon version of the language gleaned from a phrase book and a dictionary.

Two years ago I started trying to teach myself Spanish and I’m getting there, slowly but surely. And now? I keep making excuses not to commit more time to the language, not to join a class and at least attempt to improve myself.

Fear plays its part. It is fear of the unknown and more than a little fear break out of my bubble. It’s easy for me to choose the easy option but my little voice is telling me that I should – perhaps about thirty years too late of course.

And if I had had more courage I would have started this blog a lot earlier than I did.

When I came across Eleanor Roosevelt’s quote, I suddenly thought to myself that perhaps it’s not too late after all. Maybe by challenging myself, I could actually have a bit of fun.

I’m not talking about doing big (and stupid) things, like climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge to scare myself absolutely shitless – I’ve done that and the only lesson I learned was that my fear of heights cannot be removed.

I’m talking about little things that are achievable but worrying to a person like me, somebody who is quite shy and loves his little comfort zone.

For example, walking up to a total stranger and starting a conversation might be very easy and not scary to a rampant extrovert, but to somebody like me who is cursed with shyness, that would be a scary thing to do.

Maybe join that Spanish class.

Or try to write comments on a Spanish blog – in Spanish!

Or video myself singing a song I love and publishing it on this blog (if nothing else it will make readers laugh) – actually I think some evil mates of mine might pay me to do that to make a complete fool of myself – so maybe not.

Or how about trying some new food? Actually, I have done that in Japan – and yes it did take me out of my comfort zone but I don’t regret it at all.

I’ll compile a list and see how I get on. I will not be taking suggestions – just in case my evil mates have anything up their sleeves – but you can suggest something if you like, dear reader, just for the amusement factor if nothing else.

And I may even write a blog post or two about it.

Now that would be scary.

A Thousand Words

A couple of months ago, I read an article on the BBC website about a campaign called The 1000 Word Campaign, which was created to encourage British people to learn at least 1000 words of another language.

The campaign was born out of concerns that we, as a nation, have extremely poor language skills and as a result we are losing out on international business opportunities and jobs as a result.

I have to say that I whole-heartedly agree with this, not necessarily the fear that we are struggling to win business abroad but because, generally, your average Brit can barely string together a sentence in a foreign language.

We have become lazy. We are spoiled because we can converse with Americans and Australians easily enough and a lot of European countries speak at least a smattering of English, certainly enough to be able to have a simple conversation with an English speaker.

You can pop to Holland and have a fantastic conversation in English with many people.  The thing is, I would like to be able to chat to a Dutch person in their own language rather than English or at least flip between the two.

In my last post about school, I lamented my choices not to pursue French to fluency. The next part of that particular post will also mention German, a language I studied for three years but again forgot as soon as I had the chance to give it up.

I am better than a large percentage of my fellow countrymen. My French is passable and I have survived numerous trips to Zurich where German is the spoken tongue, being able to ask for my hotel key, order coffee, read a menu and even order food.

However I am far from fluent and had to carry a dictionary with me all of the time so that I could cope with unexpected needs. I certainly couldn’t chat with people in German other than to impress them with odd words stolen from the lyrics of Rammstein songs, such as zerstören (which means to destroy - typical of a Rammstein song). In fact Rammstein songs have helped my vocabulary, albeit with words that I probably would struggle to use in a conversation given my limited German.

My French vocabulary is more impressive than my German but I still struggle to hold a conversation with a French person, simply because it is difficult to understand their accent and words that are delivered at approximately 1000mph towards my ear.

I have managed to make myself understood but as soon as the person has replied, my brain has failed to understand the words I heard, spoken at such a velocity that I could barely decipher them, let alone trawl my addled mind for their meaning.

This is the one flaw with the 1000 word campaign; being able to understand a native speaker.

I have spoken to some foreigners in English and they have had to ask me to speak more slowly so that they can understand the words I am saying. And I always thought I spoke pretty slowly anyway.

Obviously I don’t.

I am taking slow steps to improve and have started to take steps.

For the past year or so I have been stumbling along trying to teach myself a brand new language: Spanish.

And slowly but surely I am picking it up.

Well, when I say “picking it up”, I mean forgetting fewer words and allowing more of them to stick in my addled memory.

The secret to learning a new language is to stick with it and practice as often as you can. And for the past few months I have tried to step up a gear and at least try to pick up the basic elements of the language every single day – even if it for just ten or fifteen minutes.

What I have discovered is that words slip out your mind but return when you look them up again – and eventually they stick.

I am using a free online tool for the past couple of months to help me and it does seem to be working slowly. I have managed to retain a whole bunch of new words although I have forgotten a few I learned last year. The tool keeps a running total of the words you learn and throws phrases and sentences at you over and over again until some of them stick.

According to the tool I have learned over 600 Spanish words. In reality, I imagine the total is a lot less than that simply because I sometimes fail to get questions right when I test myself.

But it’s a start.

The tool also includes other languages, including German and French and my aim is to reacquaint myself with those languages too – but as a background activity.

The internet does help. There is a plethora of material out there as well as a huge proportion of Spanish television, articles, blogs etc. for me to delve into if and when I feel confident enough to do so.

The one problem I have is that I do not know any native Spanish speakers who can help me to understand everyday speech and make myself understood when I try to ask for a meal in terrible Spanish with a pseudo Mancunian-Black Country accent.

I will cross that bridge when I come to it.

Learning a language is difficult, I can’t deny that, but the rewards are magnificent. Whenever I travel I try to master a couple of phrases in the local language just to let people know that I have made an effort.
I can order beer, say “Please”, “Thank you”, “Hello” and “Goodbye” in Russian, Chinese, Portuguese, French, German, Italian, Dutch and even Japanese.

And even though my vocabulary is limited to one or two phrases, the local people really seem to appreciate the effort.

And yes – I can say the same words in American and Australian too. I might even try to write my next blog post in one of those two languages.

How about you, dear reader?

Can you speak a foreign language? 

If so which and how fluently?

Cat Wars and a Dead Router

My online presence has been rather subdued for the past ten days because my router decided to expire. Trying to convince my ISP that the router was at fault has proved to be difficult, despite the fact that both Mrs PM and I both work in IT and suspected the problem from day one.

Finally, last Monday, having performed many tests and "escalated” the problem, my ISP finally admitted that the router was the problem and sent me a new one. Of course, the Royal Mail then played its part and I only received my new router this morning.

But now I’m back, dear reader.

I can read blogs that I have missed. To be fair, I could have read them on my Smartphone but my mobile internet is so painfully slow that I have to seriously resist the temptation to hurl it against the wall. Also, my fading eyesight means that I struggle to read it on the small screen.

Of course I could have accessed the internet at work – and to be fair I did. The problem is that my company has decided that we can’t view personal emails at work and has banned access to Yahoo and Googlemail as well as other stuff like Facebook.

To add to the frustration I was recently offered a cut price online beginner’s course in Spanish and, having recently been to Spain, I decided to take advantage of it. Sadly, because of the lack of internet I have been unable to use it. I have, however, managed to use a couple of mobile applications to keep me going.

Thankfully all that frustration is over and I am back, dear reader.

To be honest, losing broadband has been like losing a limb and I have been asking myself dumb questions like “How on earth did I survive without the internet?”

The one good thing about not having internet is that I have been unable to be on call with work. Support relies on my being able to access systems in other countries from the comfort of my own home and I have not missed being able to relax without the fear of a phone call in the middle of the night.

Sadly, now that I have internet access again, I am back on call.

Oh well, you can’t win them all.

I have had other things to occupy my mind without the internet to keep me busy. The main thing is acting as a diplomatic mediator in a major – and I mean MAJOR – conflict in our very own house.

As you may know, we now have a new cat called Liquorice and she has upset the balance of power in the feline territory within our home.

The good news is that she has taken rather a shine to me, rather than Mrs PM, and she comes to me whenever I call her, as long as the other two cats aren’t in the vicinity. She purrs and rubs up against my leg and only scratches and bites when I deserve it (i.e. when I touch her unexpectedly or breathe the wrong way). I think I have sussed out when she will attack. She has a look in her eyes that basically says “Touch me and it will be the last thing you ever do with your hand!”

Also, if she is spooked she will attack anything within six inches of her.

Jasper is the alpha cat and treats Liquorice as if she is plankton. He watches her when she hisses at him but totally ignores her. She runs away rather than standing up to him.

Our other cat, Poppy – you know, the timid female who is scared of her own shadow – has revealed a facet of her personality that I didn’t know existed. Poppy and Liquorice are in the midst of a major power struggle and there have been a few clashes, dear reader. Poppy has launched attacks at Liquorice who has retaliated. Mostly, thankfully, they have just been hissy fits.

Most of these skirmishes have occurred in the middle of the night in or around our bedroom, waking me up in the process.

During the day, the cats retire to their favourite places and sleep; it is at night that they prowl the house and howl and spit at each other.

Thankfully, the feline fights are reducing in number and now that Liquorice has been outside, she now has another refuge. So the cat wars might be abating, finally.

I have to tell you about one skirmish though.

I came home from work on Thursday and walked into the kitchen. The floor just in front of the cat flap was covered in clumps of cat fur. To make matters worse, there were traces of blood on the cat flap itself.

“Oh shit,” I said before searching the house for the casualties of what must have been a vicious fight.

The first cat to appear was Poppy. I knew that the major battles had involved our scared little cat so I put some food out for her so that I could inspect her for signs of damage. There was none. There were no clumps of fur missing and no sign of scratches or bites.

“Oh no,” I thought. “Liqourice!”

I ran upstairs calling her and, sure enough, I heard her leap down from the wardrobe. She trotted out to see me. I kneeled down, wary that she might be in a savage mood and prepared to rip off one of my fingers.

She meowed and rubbed herself against my knee and allowed me to stroke her. And again there was no sign of injury and all of her fur was intact.

I found Jasper in the lounge and it soon became clear who had been involved in the fight. He looked fine but I noticed a clump of fur missing. What’s more, he had a lump of white fur attached to his neck.

I returned to the kitchen and took a closer look – the fur was black and white. It was then that I remembered the big black and white cat I had seen prowling around our garden. The cat lives three doors away and I have seen both Jasper and Poppy growling at him. He must have tried to infiltrate Jasper’s territory and been attacked by Jasper.

I told Mrs PM and she examined “her big boy” (not me you understand). There were a couple of minor cuts but it appears that the black and white invader came off worst.

And because Mrs PM loves cats, she is now worried that the invader might be really injured.

I reckon he’s alright and I think he will probably not venture into our house again. Besides, he’s had one rather nasty haircut at the hands of Jasper – I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want another.

I’m just hope that our three cats get along – and I think they are getting there. Liquorice is certainly allowing the other two to get closer before mutating into a hissing ball of fury.

And me? I have all of my limbs intact – despite losing my beloved internet for ten days.