Tuesday, February 03, 2009


A good old-fashioned word that.

Feeling a bit "bleaugh" this evening, for various reasons: I'm not at home seeing my family this weekend (I'll be in Birmingham seeing friends - which is nice in itself, but...). My son is off on a school trip to Norway tomorrow and will be gone for a week. We still have our financial problems and will have for another month until I start getting paid for the work I'm doing now.

Daughter slipped on the ice and hit her head today on her way to college, so went back home and stayed there - but didn't call to say she'd hurt herself. Parents worry especially after it's too late to have done anything about it. She only missed English - which she is exceptionally good at anyway.

As a quick aside from bleaughness: the daughter is 17 (nearly 18). We have a big puppy and I usually take him for his last-thing-at-night walk. A couple of weeks ago we were all going to bed and the wife mentioned taking the dog for a walk and I muttered about having to take him, because the daughter certainly can't (late at night, dark). The little smarty-pants says "Why? Are you worried I might kill someone?" Which, of course, she is perfectly capable of doing in rather interesting ways. She's safer than I am. (Except I didn't slip over on the ice, even though Reading was slick with it this evening. Is that tempting fate too much?)

Anyway, I bought the wife and daughter a copy of "When Harry Met Sally" (£4 at Morrisons) before I left, so they can have a girlie evening when I'm away. I love that film. "Pecan Pie"

I should be writing but I can't see how to write the last bit of the action sequence in Unit X yet.

Sometimes I wish I could switch on the TV and watch something completely mindless. But I haven't got a TV and my Rubbish Internet is too slow to even listen to audio on iPlayer, never mind watch video.

Instead I pulled out a London street atlas that I bought on Monday to see how to get from Paddington to Oxford Street. It covers pretty much all of the Greater London area and I ended up looking at Romford and the little bit of Hornchurch that falls off the edge of the page.

Why? Because I spent my days from age 5 to 18 there. The house I lived in wasn't on the map, but I peered and squinted and spotted my secondary school half on the map. And my Junior/Infant school as plain as can be. The school all my sisters went to is there. The train station which used to have a fish and chip shop outside it, where I (on only one occasion) used my dinner money to buy fish and chips instead. I was never much of a rebel.

If you give a damn, I used to live here. (I have to use the non-interactive version because of Rubbish Internet.)

I went to art evening classes at the Polytechnic on Ardleigh Green Road, and got some good enough to sell. I played in Haynes Park, it had woods and a 9-hole golf course. I crossed the railway line on a footpath to go to piano lessons (I never got good at that). Had two friends on Staverton Road. And another friend across in Parkstone Avenue who's Dad was very well off and the house was huge. Between our road and Lewis Road there's a river that ran along a u-shaped concrete bed. During the summer we used to explore it, walking along it. In winter it often filled to the top of the concrete channel. Next door to us lived girls I fancied at different ages (Julie in one direction, Caroline in the other). Next to one of those was a family where both parents were child psychologists who had two children that were the worst behaved I ever met. After all the children had left home my parents moved to Grosvenor Road. And then away completely.

And at the railway station there was a zebra crossing where I slipped over on ice.

Gosh, memories.

So I'm feeling bleaugh - it's not that I want to go back to those years, oh dearie me no, it's just making me feel sad. I'm reinforcing the mood I was already in: Matching my "loss of family" (as it were) with "loss of places".

And I'm tired too, which doesn't help.

Pathetic really.

Plus the fact we haven't heard about Red Planet yet, and I was right, the BBC people didn't have their meeting yesterday so there's no decision on whether they want Winter (ha-ha-ha, how ironic they couldn't make a decision because of the winter weather, gosh, I'm so funny) - at least my contact was kind enough to let me know. But I'm screaming with impatience inside.

A wise man said (something like) "It's okay to feel down once in a while, just don't let it go on too long."

So I really better snap out of it.

Meanwhile, in other news, Oli discussed something very close to my heart, and I've been trying all evening to post a comment but my Rubbish Internet keeps messing it up. Grrrr.

Oh, is my time up? Well, thanks for listening. Same time tomorrow?

What's on the turntable? "Legend in my Living Room" by Annie Lennox from "Diva"


Jason Arnopp said...

Yes, same time tomorrow, dear sir. By which time, I hope your spirits will have lifted.

Frighteningly though, the word verification, uh, word is 'worse'. Christ! Defy it, sir. Defy it.

David Turner said...

Indeed, chin up.
I think this post perfectly demonstrates what I like about the blogosphere. We're not alone...!

Paul McIntyre said...

As bleaugh as you feel, I really enjoyed your post, sir...

Surely it can't be long now until Red Planet? Do you find yourself checking your email more than you should? I do... it's sad.

Good luck with Winter anyway, hope you hear something today.

Adaddinsane said...

Thank's for the kind words - indeed that is a thing that makes the blogosphere a Good Thing(tm).

And yes I keep checking my e-mail - what worries me is that I know people get their e-mails bounced from my account.