Networking.

I don't really get this networking thing.  I feel rather unsettled by the fact that 'network' has been transformed into a verb, for a start.  A 'network' evokes a sense of connection and support.  Networking smacks of being pressed into collecting people's contact details in a maniacal and feverish rampage through some convention room somewhere.  The very word conjures up images of glassy eyes and fake smiles, of people in suits trying to wedge business cards into each other's hands.  A network seems secure and solid; networking seems false and threatening.

People seem to have taken to collecting each other, like points in some game.  Do you level up when you reach each thousand?  At what point does this leveling up mean I grow dragon wings?  Because unless it leads to that, I can't see me being able to buy into it.

This is not to say I want to huddle, hunched up and growling, in a darkened corner of my house, refusing to speak to anyone from the outside world.  I mean, I do that.  It just isn't as a direct result of people saying I should network.  I don't actually think that hordes of people are camped on my lawn. (It's tiddly, in any case, so good luck with that.  We could only host a minor-league horde.)  Every now and then, I even go out and speak to people.

The Festival of Writing has provided excellent conversation both years I have been, so far, and I may have accidentally networked with a couple of people.  It seems fine, though, as long as they are interesting, witty beings who are good with me making everything about dragons (Or reindeer, if it's reindeer season -you have to be seasonal, don't you?  All the best cooking shows say that you do.  I choose to believe this is what they mean.)

This year, I ended up chatting for several hours to a bunch of lovely people, some of whom have names I never even heard, about our upcoming collaboration for a SciFi monster movie to end all monster movies.  (I cannot possibly reveal any details, but when we magically all end up in LA and get this thing rolling, it will be the most awesome thing to ever awesome.)

The year before was pretty good, too.  It lead me to meeting the lovely Penny, who was kind enough to link my blog to hers this week.

What fascinated me about the on-line activity of networking is how it really does connect people. You don't get a stiff-edged card with numbers and a business title.  You get snippets of people's humour and interests, links to articles and memes and all sorts of good things.  Some people may also end up with job offers - I don't know.  I mainly reblog pictures with funny comments on them and read articles which get me rethinking my views on things.  For that reason alone, deciding to follow some people on Twitter and tumblr has been well worth it.

Reading Penny's blog today had a knock-on effect, though.  The link by Liz to Penny's blog was read by my person (He who lives in the same house and with whom I shared a wedding a bit back.), who then went off to look up a website about borrowing a dog which had been mentioned in Penny's blog.  A link to this was then sent to my person's sister, who now says she has signed up to borrow people's doggies.  So, basically, someone I met over a year ago and who has never, to my knowledge, met or been anywhere near my sister-in-law, has got her to sign up to borrow dogs.  (I mean, they may have met.  They are both in the medical field.  All you medical peeps hang out in secret tree-houses together, right?  Thought so.) This is internet networking, and it is glorious.

Wow.  It is quite some time since I posted a blog.  Where do the days go?  (My theory is that they are sucked into the open maw of a giant, time-eating worm, which hunkers just beneath the surface layer of reality, feeding on our very lives... He is called Cyril.)

In any case, I have filled the time with having a barely controlled stress-breakdown and with covering my house with reindeer.  Not real ones.  I was not allowed to bring real ones back with me from Keswick.  Damn and blast it.  I have had to settle for ornaments.

Unpacking the Christmas ornaments was an exercise in calling out 'Reindeer!  I'd forgotten about this one', but I still bought a load more in Keswick.  They are on the tree, on the light-up dead-twig tree (it's a thing - look it up.  I love me some dead trees.  So sculptural and artistic.  Tree nudes.)  There are reindeer on the window sills, hanging from the windows, along the sideboard.  I am especially pleased with my offering to the reindeer gods.

Reindeer are not limited to ornaments.  I would not be so daft as to miss out the chance to add to one of my favourite sorts of item: mugs.  A few more wouldn't go amiss, actually.  I only have four or five with reindeer on them.

All right, so there's a monkey, as well.  He is, however, one of those little monkeys which advertise tea, so that's fine.  He is the tea monkey and brings the slightly scary, greyhound-reindeer their drinks when they get thirsty.

Last, but not really least (there is no such thing as a 'least' with reindeer ornaments and so on.  Everything about reindeer season is excellent), I have finally purchased a jumper with reindeer on it.  I have had to scour the shop and buy a man's jumper, but it has the added bonus of not being made of the clingy kind of fabric which turns my hair into an approximation of a dandylion clock, so that's good, too.

Reindeer!

It is reindeer season again, that wonderful time of the year when I can buy mugs and ornaments and pajamas with reindeer on them.  And plates.  And socks.  And cuddly reindeer which I claim are fabric ornaments, because that sound less like I am still five.  Oh, and reindeer candle holders.  We must not forget those.  Non-reindeer candle holders just aren't as good.  Not enough by way of antlers.

As we often can't find reindeer items in the shops during the rest of the year, I make sure to stock up when the supplies are good.

This weekend, we went up to Keswick for a weekend away for my birthday.  We often get a bit of Christmas shopping done.  Now, you can nearly always rely on the Lakes to give you sheep-themed gifts (mugs, socks, jumpers, notebooks and so forth, not to mention paintings and ornaments), but in December, Keswick is as full of reindeer as it is of sheep.  Well, nearly.  There is the Herdy shop in Keswick, dedicated to selling one particular brand of sheep-theme mugs, tea-towels and mats.

There are plenty of reindeer to be found, though.

This year, it got even better.  There were real reindeer.

They were down from the Cairngorms and usually run wild(ish) in the hills.  Except for this guy:

This is Grumpy.  Or maybe it was Grundig.  He looked grumpy.  He was raised by hand and the other reindeer did not think he was a reindeer.  I wanted to adopt him, but I was informed that we were not putting him on the backseat of the Suzuki Swift and carting him back to South Yorkshire.  Apparently, it was felt that Grundig would not fit in harmoniously with my three collies.  I don't see why.  I could see him curled up on the settee with the others...

Anyway, I spent about half an hour watching these reindeer and almost the first thing which popped into my mind was a question.

Who the hell decided these creatures look aerodynamic?

Out of every animal I have seen, I have to say that reindeer are pretty low down on the 'look like they're about the lift off' list.  Sheep look more likely to fly.  Horses.  Not reindeer.  Yet, someone decided these are the animals who must pull a flying sleigh, in December.

I knew that male reindeer shed their antlers, but I did not know it was any entire male (the castrated ones keep their horns for longer) or that the entire males shed their horns before Christmas.  I enjoyed learning more about reindeer.

They had some baby reindeer there, as well.  Only six months old.

Every now and then, a really mardy reindeer ran at one of them and the other reindeer had to get out of its way.  This appears to count as good parenting to a reindeer.

I also learnt that reindeer's coats feel something like a carpet and that they look a bit like a horse/goat close up, and smell of horse.  It has only made me love them more.

Then I went and bought some more not-really reindeer to place around my house for the Christmas season.