Oversharing about overspending & belt tightening & why Andrea’s question has me writing this to begin with

I’ve been accused of oversharing, but then I always remember my friend who shared a photo of her naughty bits on twitter to make a point. Why do I mention that? Well, I suppose I do say things online that others wouldn’t.

And when I do so, it sometimes makes the people I love cringe. That moment I’m sure they read what I’ve posted and they think to themselves: Why does he have to talk about that? Is nothing sacred? Don’t we have a private sphere anymore?

I heard a podcast earlier this year in which there were parents discussing how much they shared of their children’s lives online. What kind of photos were acceptable and essentially where each parent’s parameters lay, which made me glad I didn’t have to concern myself with such things.

I’ve got enough trouble worrying about my own online presence without having to try figuring out someone else’s. Teaching a young person how to navigate the web? Gives me night sweats just thinking about it. Uggh…

So, here goes.

Andrea (aGirlfromMontrose), who’s a friend from high school you’re going to hear me talking about more, because I love her blog, asked me a question.

I promised her an answer in blog form, so here goes.

Oh, another thing before I forget: I’ve resolved to use this site more as a tool for a few things.

Recently, WordPress asked me if I wanted to keep up with the blogging lark. Well, actually they were more crafty, which I respect. They said: Your site’s being renewed. You needn’t do anything. We’ve got it taken care of.

But being the overthinking sod that I am, I considered just pulling the plug on the whole damned thing. Starting from scratch with something more conventional.

Lahikmajoe is a terrible name for a brand. It regularly baffles people when they first see it. How’s it even pronounced? Where does it come from? Why should I read something or follow links to such a site?

So there’s that…

Let me go back to the story with Andrea, though. It’s a narrative that’s easily followed.

She saw me jet off to Kraków and take the train to Venice a few weeks later. Then I was in Spain on the Camino showing my mother my favourite spots in northern Spain, as well as exploring Madrid for the first time.

There was Easter in a big Ferienhaus (a group of us rented a whole house) up in the Austrian Alps and photos of Asians taking photos of each other (& of my dogs #EllaandLouis) while we spent a day in Hallstadt.

There was essentially some sort of trip every few weeks, and when we finally ended up on holiday in Italy this summer, Andrea had had enough.

In comments on some post, she demanded: What do you do exactly? How can you afford all this travel? I want that life. What do I need to do to get to motor round like that and see all that stuff?

Well, here comes the oversharing:

I can’t. There’s been too much outflow and not enough income. I’ve overspent on travel this year, and now it’s time to do some belt tightening and get back to fiscal basics.

The funny thing is, though, I’ve got it under control, because while my freelance work often dries up in summer, it turns out autumn is regularly quite busy.

There’ll be a period around Christmas until Epiphany, when I can’t work anyway, so I’m already planning a trip stateside. I’ve not been to Vermont since college, when a couple of Deadheads and I drove from Albany to Burlington on a whim, but there might be Yuletide in the Northeast Kingdom (a place whose name I’ve always thought was rather magical). Then if things go as planned New Year’s in New Orleans and time with my people in coastal Texas.

That bastard Hurricane Harvey, who devastated the Gulf Coast of Texas and Louisiana last week, has made me uncharacteristically homesick, which is a feeling I nearly never experience, so pardon me if this blog becomes a bit Texas-flavoured in the coming weeks.

I promised Andrea a blogpost explaining what I do, so here it is. I overshare. I tell people online what online marketers insist you shouldn’t. I tell my readers too much and it’s both cathartic and a little daft.

Because I’ve thrown in for another year on WordPress, I’m going to get my money’s worth. I’m going to use my blog the way I used to do my teablog:

People who drink tea used to read my blog about the brown liqueur, the leafy goodness. The drink that fuels my adventures since I gave up on John Barleycorn years ago. Yet the astounding thing was how many people who didn’t even drink tea told me they loved my blog.

Just the writing. Whether they even drank it or not. Some regular readers even insisted they couldn’t stand the stuff (I never trusted those people — just seems suspect to me). For now on, there’s going to be regular content hereabouts, but this time with an editorial calendar and a better eye on my audience. Most importantly there’s also going to be a goal.

I want this place to be where people come for something whimsical. A bit of the ridiculous in an otherwise serious and grown up life. Again, that’s why even non tea drinkers read my earlier site. It was certainly about tea, but barely.

Some days it was about what was pissing me off, but most of the time it was my inspiration. Whatever caught my fancy. Whatever bliss I was tapping into, as Joseph Campbell was talking about.

The thing that made me want to leap out of bed in the morning? The thing that made me want to do it again and again? I want more of that in my life. I’m assuming you do too.

On a side note, I quit watching or reading the news while in Spain. American news, in particular, just had me anxious. I realised that the more attention I gave Trump and the whole “he said she said” nonsense of the two party system over there, the more irritable I was getting.

Walking along the trail on the Camino de Santiago in the Rioja region of Spain, I reminded myself:

None of that really matters in my day to day life. I take voting seriously, and I’ll do my civic duty when it’s time to do so.

But watch another debate like we seemed to all be doing in 2016? Life’s too short for that shit. There’s too much living going on around, as I hear Lyle Lovett’s voice singing in my memory.

Be good to one another, will you? I’m trying.

shameless self promotion

IMG_1985
This photo says enough that it really doesn’t need any text…nevertheless, this isn’t a photo blog. Find the appropriate words below.

Was about to say that I hadn’t talked about turtles in a while, but I went back and looked at my earlier posts on this blog and there’s nothing turtle-related. Not a damned thing.

Which is a bit strange, because I’m really into turtles.

And?

There’s a beautiful human female riding atop the turtle. Not in some inappropriate and potentially embarrassing way, either. As a matter of fact, I doubt you could misinterpret this lady and her motives. As beautiful as she might be, everything about her seems pure.

Wait, what are you blathering on about lahikmajoe? Is there any method to your madness?

Well, sort of. In a roundabout way.

See, I’ve been doing quite a bit of freelance writing and editing lately, as well as translating and proofreading. It’s been a bit of a boon, to be honest, but the sad reality is that I haven’t had much time for the whimsical that I typically find myself writing here.

The curious thing is that a good deal of the work I get is from people who first come here to look at samples of my style. Or they find old posts from the teablog if they’ve been able to circumnavigate their way around the patio furniture nonsense, that is.

If that last reference is lost on you, take a look at patio design ideas, and you’re guaranteed to be on the same page with me at least once in the last 10 minutes.

If more people are coming here to assess my writing, wouldn’t it be logical to make the writing more serious? More commercially viable?

I’m not against commerce. I’m not above shameless self promotion.

The thing is: if I’m already generating some sort of interest by simply writing about whatever the hell I want, and this is a personal and rather miscellaneous blog to begin with, shouldn’t I keep doing what got me here?

What I’ve noticed recently is that the more I write for other people, the more essential it is that I persevere in entertaining myself hereabouts. A pristine woman and the turtle beneath her is as good a place to continue as I could imagine.

If a handful of you enjoy it? Well, that’s lagniappe.

 

A year? It’s been a whole year?

Blowing out them candles…

Has it been an entire year? Quite a lot has happened this year since I started this blog.

I’d taken a few stabs at blogging (unsuccessfully) and still have a teablog that gets a bit of attention. I should do more over there, but my friends who’re tea fanatics seem to be patiently awaiting my return to regularly updated teablog posts. We’ll see. I’ll get to that as soon as the world slows down.

To what do I attribute the (meagre) success of this here Dachshund Blog?

The tight-knit and hilarious small blogging community of which I’m a part. These folks are awesomesauce. Amy Durant, who’s really called lucysfootball over there on her site has probably been the biggest inspiration and the kindest support. She’s said so many nice things publicly and been a tremendous friend behind the scenes – I can’t begin to return the favour. If you’re lucky enough to be Amy’s friend, you know what I’m talking about. She’s tenacious about showing her people how much she cares.

Thanks Amy.

Oh, and if I thought it’d do any good to tell you to write shorter blogposts, I’d do so. Sometimes I’m halfway through one of your rambling soliloquies, and I have to go make a sandwich to make it to the end of your text. I shouldn’t be complaining. Think about it: at least I got a sandwich.

Probably my favourite blog of all time is The Best Self-Help T-Shirt Catalog Ever!, which is written by the sardonic Lisa Galaviz who’s a bit hepped up on Cheetos and Bathtub Gin. More power to her. She’s one of the best things on twitter if you’re attention span is too short to read an entire blogpost. Here – check out Lisa Galaviz over there.

Then there’s Andreas Heinakroon. He’s a proud dad and an above-average scientist and a swell guy. Over the last year, Andreas and I have communicated more on twitter than most people do who live near one another in the same neighbourhood. Recently, I had some unfortunate news, and his compassion and concern for my well-being were evident in his 140-character messages. Great guy.

His blog is inventively called http://heinakroon.com/, which is convenient, because that’s the guy who writes the thing. Go read it NOW. He’s a much better writer than he lets on.

I could go on and on, but I won’t.

That’s a list of three very funny writers, who just happen to be blogging for the ridiculous hell of it. You think I’m funny/informative/a bit mad, right?

I can’t hold a candle to these yahoos. They’ll be yahooing all the way to the funny farm.

At least the funny farm will be enjoyable and there’ll always be enough to read.

Happy Blogiversary to ME!!!

Here’s to another great year.

Elaine’s Cuppa Cake

Elaine’s already gotta place to land when she gets to Scotland!

Our favourite Tottenham Riviera blogger elaine4queen has been threatening to move to Scotland, so I happened upon the perfect place for her. Her own café. Where we can all go and be sweary and inappropriate. As we are wont to do.

This isn’t easy – all this blogging. To be honest, I’ve never been a daily blogger. Well, there was a time I wrote a post everyday on my teablog, and that was enjoyable. Was even travelling a lot at the time, and wrote about tea drinking in Vienna and Hamburg and whatnot. I’m not against daily blogging in theory, but it’s really difficult to be out there living and documenting it simultaneously.

Lately, when faced with the choice, I’ve gone with the ‘focus on the life swirling round you‘ approach, and have taken sporadic notes along the way. At some point, I’ll get round to actually making those into blogposts.

There’s a great place where we stayed right outside of Durham, and I’d like to finally write a bit about the Lambton Hounds Inn, which is in the curiously named neighbourhood of ‘Pity Me‘. I mentioned in my last blogpost, and I assure you I’ve not forgotten it.

And then Fafa, which is my mother’s childhood nickname, and I went on to Lindisfarne in Northumbria. That’s worthy of at least three blogposts right there. One of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. And if you know me even a little, you know I’ve been a lot of places.

Here’s a taste of what’s ahead:

Everybody goin’ to the castle on the Holy Island of Lindisfarne…

Then we went to another castle that someone told us was involved in the filming of all of that Harry Potter nonsense, but when we got there, they were having a wedding and the place was closed off to visitors.

Turns out Bamburgh Castle has no connection whatsoever to the filming of those books that I’ve not yet read, but I suppose I will at some point. *sigh*

Mother claiming Bamburgh Castle for her own!

So, that’s a taste of what’s to come…aren’t you excited? Here’s your not-quite-humble-enough blogger at the same castle:

One of the few times you’ll see ol’ Lahikmajoe in less than formal attire.

starting and ending in the front room on the Tottenham Riviera

sometimes you gotta pack up all your stuff

The trip to London is like a huge chunk of molten ore from which I’ll be mining blogposts for a long time to come. Were I to show you my itinerary, you’d be astounded at how much I packed into such a short trip. Big ups to @elaine4queen for meditation-related help and conversations of the highest order.

I got some business taken care of, and there’s big news on that front when it’s more concrete. Don’t count chickens before they’re scratched, or whatever. And I met Robert Godden, who’s also known as The Devotea in teablogging circles. That was an event. To say the least. Here’s a document of that auspicious occasion:

Whatchyou talkin’ ’bout Robert?

If you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Robert either online or in person, you know that he’s passionate and just the other side of sane. It’s one of the myriad of reasons we get along. I also met the infamous Lady Devotea, but was sworn to not publish the photos I took of her. Perhaps once she sees the way I respectfully portrayed her gent, she’ll relent. But until then, I must respect her wishes.

Then, I was introduced to Bloom Tea, which I’ve already mentioned over on the teablog, but bears repeating here. They have five different blends for different times of the day. It’s a clever way to sell tea, so I’m sure I’ll be talking more about this brand in the near future. Here’s a photo of the sample I was given:

the five phases of Bloom Tea

The mornings in London were exactly like they are back here in Germany for me. I get up relatively early, so I can plan my day properly. It means that when others get out of bed, I’ve already been at it for several hours. It’s all rather disconcerting if you think about it. Because I know my level of energy can be a bit off-putting, I attempt to tone it down as best I can – with varying results.

afternoon tea with some of my favourite people who I’d not previously met

Finally, I’d like to share one of the best photos of last weekend. It’s got some wonderful characters in it, innit? I’ll not bother listing them all, although I should at least make a passing reference to a certain Vic Darkwood, who you’ll see on the far right of the shot. Purportedly, he’s an artist of some renown.

I’m just glad to say we now know each other on twitter. I hope when he gains international fame and glory, that he remembers us little people.

Like I’ve said, I’m sure this isn’t my last London-themed blogpost. There’s tonnes more to tell.

 

quirky cafés and tea shops in London?

going to be drinking a lot of tea in London

Need your help. Please. Pretty please.

Tried this on my Teablog, and only got one tip. I’m in London this weekend, which means there’ll be tea drinking and idling in an entirely new country. Exciting, right?

But as much as I know of the city, there are always places one’s never heard of.

I’m staying near Tottenham Hale, and I need a fantastic, quirky place for a late breakfast on the first morning. Any ideas?

Then, I’m with my friend Nigel in Soho on Friday afternoon, and he’ll take care of where we’re going. At some point we’ll be  darkening the doors of The Idler Academy of Philosophy, Husbandry and Merriment, which I’ll most definitely be blogging about.

But otherwise I’m on the lookout for tea shops and cafés. It could mean the place gets a bit of publicity and then eventually travellers making a pilgrimage there.

Sounds like something no hip café would even want. A load of unwashed tourists with their greasy hands touching everything.

Come on, loyal readers. Where should I go?

‘Help me Obi Wan Kanobi you’re my only hope’

 

wait and drink tea

waiting and drinking tea

I have a friend who definitely believes in the Pareto principle and quotes it at every opportunity. The basic idea is that about 80% of the result comes from 20% of the work (and the converse: you do 80% of the work and get only 20% of the benefit). Business people talk about this concept often. It’s regularly used to talk about where you’re putting your effort and how you can better optimise your success.

There’s a lot I could talk about regarding this, but I’d like to focus on the way people work together. How groups function, and what sorts of people make up successful ones. But first, why? Where did this topic come from?

I got to thinking about the German idiomAbwarten und Tee trinken‘, which has always made me smile. I like it partly because it includes something I love (tea drinking), but also because it’s a decent option of what to do when you’re just not sure about the next step.

Literally it means ‘wait and drink tea‘. Yet as with most idioms, the literal definition is only part of the story. Wait and drink tea is used specifically when adding pressure to negotiations won’t help. When the best thing to do is to do nothing at all. So, you have to wait…and while waiting, why not brew some tea? It’ll at least make the wait a bit more pleasant.

One of the translations I saw while searching for examples of ‘Abwarten und Tee trinken‘ was wait and wonder. If you know anything about me, you know I love that sort of thing. Sitting and pondering things. At length. Sometimes to my detriment.

Then I went a bit farther down the search list and what did I find? An article from 2005 in Der Spiegel called Warum wir abwarten und Tee trinken (Why we wait and drink tea). And here’s where we get to the workings of a group.

The article talks about a study done by evolutionary psychologist Robert Kurzban in which he divides groups into three types of people. There are the helpers (active, selfless volunteers) and the freeloaders (those that don’t do anything). If you’ve tried to plan or accomplish anything in a group, you know about those. But then he mentions a third group, and those are the ones who wait.

They’ve seen Pareto principle in action, and they’ve already come to the conclusion that a very small number of the group is actually going to do anything. Having seen the freeloaders get by with little if any work on earlier projects, the ones who wait take a bit of a fatalistic stance and then they watch carefully what happens next. It’s what they do.

I had a look at the website of the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, where the original study was published. Alas, I found a lot of other materials there about the work of Robert Kurzban, but not this specific study. Here I am translating a German article that’s citing the original…I wonder how close my reading of it is to the source material.

Back to the subgroups

According to the people studied, 17% of people belong to the helpers and a full 20% to the freeloaders. The largest group by far is the ones who wait whose numbers come in at a whopping 63%.

The claim that’s made is that one can predict how reliable a group is based upon the numbers in each subgroup. The ratio of the useful to useless is important, but what’s also crucial is how many people are willing to work if they see that their effort will have any appreciable meaning.

How does one accomplish that? The answer offered is that everyone be informed about each individual contribution. That there’s a sort of positive accountability, in which the ones who actually did the work are praised accordingly. Once the ones who wait see that there exists such accountability, they’ll be much more willing to take part and contribute.

Until then, they’ll be happily drinking their tea.

Shameless plug: here’s my teablog post on the same topic Abwarten un Tee trinken.