First posts...

... are always the worst.

What to say? How to introduce myself to an invisible audience of... well, right now, actually none? Am I meant to impress ("Oh, yes; I run a circus, don't'cha'know... several bears, a tribe of acrobatic Meerkats, and a strong man to pull the wagon home again!"), or am I meant to be brutally, searingly honest ("I don't run the aforementioned circus, even though, at times it does seem very much as though I do! Just, y'know, minus the strong man...")?

It's a tricky conundrum.

Basically, though, I was raised to be searingly honest, so... here goes. 

My name is Lene (that's pronounced "Lane", not the "Lenny" I so frequently get from people who know perfectly well it irks me somewhat). I am... well, let's put it this way; I frequently have to stop and work out my own age if/when questioned about it... and I have two children (The Girl, who is 15, and The Boy, who is 7) both of whom are a beguiling mix of wonderful, smart, frustrating, exasperating, downright loveable, gracious, obnoxious and very individualistic.

Eh. I love them to pieces and don't care who knows it.

We share our home with four cats (Carma, Corby, Merlin and Hercules), one completely insane spaniel known as The Dog, and a cannibalistic gerbil whose original name was Rizza, but is now known (and actually answers to) Satan. She's a sweetheart really. We live in a place I like to refer to as The Village, directly behind an Iron Age hill-fort (where The Dog and I have been known to hike rather a lot), and filled with a community spirit that is almost War-esque at times. Sometimes it's suffocating, but mostly? I rather like the fact that (theoretically) my children are safe here.

I'm a forensic archaeologist who *hates* when people ask me how many dinosaurs I've "dug up" in my time - but I do know which types of soil aid a human body's decomposition incredibly quickly... I also know far more about skeletal tuberculosis and leprosy in the archaeological record than I actually ever wanted to. And in the little spare time I get to unwind from the stresses of daily life, I craft (knitting, crochet, sewing). After years of being told I was "too thick" to be able to cross-stitch, knit or crochet, I've developed a new technique. I like to throw myself in at the deep end of something and force myself to swim. So far? Well, I've yet to drown spectacularly, let's put it that way! I also rant. Quite a lot. It's a... quirk? Facet of my personality? I don't know. It helps keep me sane, which in my world?

Can only be a good thing...