Stuck!

We are supposed to be on the mainland now but we’re stuck on the islands. The fog rolled in at 8.45am just as we arrived at the airport and everything is now on indefinite delay It’s a really busy day travel-wise because the end of half term week sees hundred and hundreds of people departing the islands on helicopter, planes and boat. The first two helicopter flights got in and out without problem because it was clear. So it’s rather frustrating to be stuck especially since the fog seems to be getting thicker and thicker as the morning wears on …

At least we can come home, make a cup of tea, watch the TV, play on the computer. I feel sorry for the visitors who are now stranded at the airport waiting for flights to resume – there were lots of children and several dogs up there when we left. Then, just to make life interesting, we had a power cut at about 10.30am just as our daughter was watching a DVD. Cue instant autistic meltdown which lasted a violent and frustrating fifteen minutes and left her purple faced, sweating and exhausted. Fortunately the power came on again and she’s now in ‘manic’ mood, watching the DVD and bounding around the sitting room like Tigger on steroids.

I submitted TMA01 quite late yesterday evening using the electronic TMa system. I’ve used it before so no worries there. But I’m also taking my laptop away with me plus PT3 forms in case I feel I need to do some more work on my TMA and resubmit next week before the Nov 2nd deadline. That depends on whether M-i-L’s wireless internet connection has been fixed (which will be the simplest and most straightforward option) or, failing that, if I can get her rather old HP deskjet printer to communicate with my new laptop then I can print out a hard copy and send that, or if they refuse to play ball together, my last option is a handwritten TMA (but that really is a desperate last option!) I think I have all bases covered but the electronic submission is my ’safety net’ to ensure that I don’t miss the deadline.

I’ve been a bit nonplussed by the emphasis on fiction in A215 – everything seems to be to do with creating characters, giving them personalities, problems, feelings, writing dialogue. Personally I find fiction tricky at the best of times. I’m more of a diarist (think Edith Holden – Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady). The exercise in the first chapter of the BRB where you have to create a character using conflicting traits – the example given is from Somerset Maugham who describes a female character who had real badness in her/had real goodness in her. I found that extremely difficult (in fact, I gave up and moved on …) When we had to write a letter from that character expressing some sort of strong emotion, I felt like a fish out of water. Lots of folks on the conference posted brilliant letters but mine barely got started.

In contrast with a lot of students, I’m really looking forward to the poetry and lifewriting sections so fiction is something that will have to be wrestled with of necessity but not choice. But, unfortunately for me, the fiction TMa is the double weighted one so I’m going to have to get down to some hard work.

Back … but soon to be gone again

Everything went pretty well on the mainland trip but not entirely smoothly. I did manage to get to Truro for the Day School but I had to leave at least an hour before the end which was a shame. It was interesting but I felt my lack of reading when it came to discussions like “Have you read ’such-and-such a book’?”. I really must try to read more but finding time is sometimes difficult. I quite enjoyed the writing exercise we did and was proud to have had a hand in two of the most successful characters our group produced

Then I had a long exhausting slog across country from Truro to Birmingham, dragging my large black wheeled holdall and being heavily weighed down by the rucksack on my shoulder. I decided I would take my laptop plus writing materials but left the Big Red Book at home. Even so, when a couple of glossy magazines and a packed supper were added to the load, the rucksack seemed to be full of rocks The Truro to Plymouth leg was an hour and a half of sitting on a little flipdown seat at the side of a tiny two carriage local train – fortunately it meant that I could keep my luggage right next to me which was reassuring, but it was an uncomfortable journey and my back was aching by the time we pulled into Plymouth.

Then it was ‘drag-the-luggage’ time up and over the footbridge to the far station where a sleek Virgin Voyager train was waiting for the next leg of my journey. To my surprise and delight, I found my reserved seat was at the far end of coach D, opposite a luggage rack where I could keep an eye on my bags, with not only a toilet just through the door into the link section but also the Shop I settled down and enjoyed the first part of the journey until it went dark and there was nothing to see outside the window except lights flashing by. I had a big paper beaker of hot strong tea from the Shop to keep me going – I hadn’t had my usual ‘tea fix’ since I had a cup at breakfast and was feeling a bit shaky. The train got noticeably hotter and stuffier the longer we travelled and I simply couldn’t face the ’supper’ of poached salmon and watercress sandwich, crisps, bakewell slice and carton of orange juice tucked into the top of my rucksack.

We arrived in Gloucester on time but the train stopped at the very far end of an extremely long platform and I swear I had to walk about ten minutes before I reached the exit! Then there was a fleet of coaches parked outside the station and men in fluorescent lime green jackets clutching clipboards directed passengers to the relevant coach for their onward journey. I was SOOO glad to find that the Birmingham coach was parked just a few steps from the station exit but it was a struggle to get my heavy holdall into the belly compartment beneath and I banged my head on the lift up door flap. There were officials standing around talking but no-one offered to help single travelling ladies with their luggage – miserable toads! I struggled to get myself, the laptop rucksack, my fleece and handbag down the oh-so-narrow aisle of the coach until I found a vacant window seat and flopped gratefully into its welcoming embrace.

Then we were heading out of Gloucester, onto the motorway beneath a swath of eye-aching orange lights and towards Birmingham. Someone was listening to a transistor radio on fairly low volume several seats in front of me but I could hear a lot of excited yelling coming from the commentator. Of course, it was the England versus France rugby semi final from Paris and I deduced from the almost hysterical outburst at 9.30pm, as we rolled smoothly along the motorway, that England had beaten France…

Approaching Birmingham, we left the M42 at Junction 2 and headed towards the city centre, passing along the length of  hotel-flanked Hagley Road, through Five Ways and onward. We arrived at Birmingham New Street station about ten minutes ahead of schedule because the motorway was clear.  Mum-in-Law was waiting for me and whisked me home in a taxi. I was absolutely SHATTERED! She’d made a lovely Cottage Pie and we sat down to eat at which point I suddenly realised I was also STARVING and had two helpings.

My driving lessons went better than I had expected although I was extremely nervous about it all. Driving through Moseley for the first time, I swear my knuckles were white on the steering wheel. But my lovely instructress was calmness personified and called me ‘chick’ and ‘miss’ which made me chuckle inside, especially since she was almost young enough to be my daughter. Unfortunately her Vauxhall Corsa was playing up because the ball-and-socket joint beneath the bonnet, that was part of the gearstick assembly, popped out on at least four occasions during my lessons. I’d put it into first and the stick would go about 4″ further forward than it should – I was terrified the first time it happened, I thought I’d broken it! So she had to cancel my last two hour lesson booked for Thursday lunchtime and I’ll have to reschedule for my next visit to Birmingham.

Hubby arrived safely, and ahead of schedule, on Thursday evening and we collected our daughter from college in Leicestershire on Friday lunchtime, before driving down to Devon to stay with my best friend and her family for just one night. Saturday morning saw us rising at 5am – what a dreadful time – and leaving at 6am to drive down to Penzance to catch the helicopter back to the islands.

So now we have a week in which I have to juggle Gallery, daughter and study to produce my first TMA for A215 by Friday because I don’t know if I’ll have any internet access when I’m on the mainland next week and I can’t guarantee having time to go to an internet cafe It’s going to be quite a challenge …

Gone!

I’m away first thing tomorrow morning so I’m off to finish my packing and make sure I have everything I need for my Day School tomorrow – see you when I get back *waves*

Very quick update

It’s been pretty busy in this household for the last few days so I haven’t had much time to update this blog

I’m currently preparing to go away for a week on my own this coming Saturday which is quite an unusual occurrence! First I’m going to attend an A215 Day School in Truro and it looks like at least half a dozen students will be going. So it will be nice to put faces to names Sadly I’ll to leave before the end because I have to catch a train …

Then I’m off to Birmingham to terrorise the local roads for five days as a nervous middle-aged female Learner Driver. In a way, I’m really glad that the A215 Day School is the first ‘event’ because I’m focussing on that and trying not to think about driving lessons for the rest of the week.

In the meantime there is so much to do. We’ve been writing lots of letters to various organisations in our search for a suitable adult placement for our twenty year old autistic daughter and juggling all the brochures, responses, printed webpages, notes and application forms has been quite a challenge. I think I’ve just about got it all sorted now … well, until the next avalanche arrives!

After we take her back to college after half term, we’ll be embarking on one of our usual whirlwind tours of the mainland – FIVE possible adult placement providers to visit, my sister and her family near Manchester, my Uncle and his wife near Salisbury, (both in their eighties now but pretty fit, healthy and active) and Mother-in-Law providing our central ‘leaping off’ point in Birmingham. Our last night, before we return to the islands, will be spent at an idyllic isolated country pub and restaurant in Cornwall as a special treat – they are renowned for their food. Looking forward to that …

Computer problems solved

I’m happy to report that I’ve finally managed to get First Class set up on my laptop I’d missed a folder which needed deleting and, once it had gone, the installation of First Class 8 from the OU’s Online Applications CD went without any further problems. I copied my fcp settings over for Server One and Server Two as well which made connecting even easier.

*heaves sigh of relief*

The Artist has returned in such a state of ‘knackeredness’ (is that a word? well, it should be!) and euphoria that, if he hadn’t fallen asleep in the chair late afternoon, I think I might have needed to tether him by his ankles to the nearest heavy immovable object to stop him floating away. His Big News was that he’s been offered a Solo Exhibition at the Birmingham Botanical Gardens (Birmingham is his birthplace) for Easter 2009! Of course, it’s still in VERY early stages and there’s a HUGE amount of hard work to be done between now and then, but this is what he’s always wanted and he is ecstatic

It has been a truly glorious day here today in the extreme south west. The Met Office was stubbornly showing ‘low cloud and light drizzle’ for us on their website almost all day but someone obviously didn’t tell the Weather Gods. We were basking in bright sunshine, gentle breezes and almost clear blue skies. It was so warm I might have suggested a celebratory barbecue this evening if The Artist hadn’t been so pooped.

I’ve put a bottle of Petillant de Syrah in the fridge to chill and we we have fresh hake from our wonderful local ‘Fish’ lady for dinner (it was probably swimming the night before last) so a celebration dinner is in order.

*raises glass* Cheers!

Finally on their way …

I think our house martins have left the islands now. I saw them on the telephone wires while I was making my breakfast tea on the last day of September but they weren’t there yesterday morning. I kept an eye open for them all day but didn’t spot one and this morning there’s still no sign.

So they must presently be arrowing their way south to warmer climates for the winter. It’s impossible to differentiate one house martin from another because they just don’t stay still long enough for you to get a close look at them. So none of ours acquired names (unlike some of the thrushes, blackbirds and robins in the garden) but I wish them all ‘Bon Voyage’ and hope that as many as possible are able to return next summer.

Computer frustrations

I’ve been trying to set up First Class on my laptop and failing dismally. It keeps complaining that a tcp-ip file is missing – even if I carefully copy my ’settings’ file across from my desktop computer so it has all the details on hand. It’s frustrating and making me feel pretty cross.

I did another Morning Pages shortly after I woke today and then wrote another page at lunchtime. For someone who is pretty obsessive about writing/editing/polishing, I’m not finding the Morning Pages as difficult as I expected. It’s actually quite ‘freeing’ to just write without really thinking about the words you are writing.

My tutor group seems to be about seventeen students and six of us have posted already (the females seem to outnumber the males) but it’s not exactly buzzing with life. On the other hand, the A215 07J main Cafe forum is positively overflowing with messages. Maybe once the rest of our group find their way to the TG forum, we’ll get busier. Of course, there might be several on the list of students who decide they’re not going to go ahead with the course and become No-Shows which is always sad.

In the meantime, our cat is sulking

She’s an elderly lady now, nearly seventeen and a half, black as coal with pale green eyes and a hefty dollop of oriental blood in there somewhere. She always lived in the shadow of our big friendly noisy tabby cat, Mog, who sadly had to be put down when his kidneys failed at the end of January this year. Now she seems to have emerged more as a personality in her own right and has rediscovered her voice, a little faint and squeaky at times, but nevertheless she ’speaks’ to us much more. But she’s a LapSitter and always has been.

Trouble is, her ‘Lap’ is currently away on the mainland on a Very Important Mission to secure a solo exhibition of his artistic work in his home city. She’s missing him. Quite badly actually. I’m only considered a Reserve ‘Lap’ because I don’t snooze in an armchair for fifteen minutes after the lunchtime news neither do I vegetate in front of the TV in same armchair for hours of an evening.

For the last three days, whenever I enter our sitting room, she rushes across to greet me, mewing expectantly as if I am a long lost friend and she hasn’t seen me for centuries… never mind the fact that I probably fed her only a few hours ago. When I sit down on the settee after my lunch, she inches up alongside me and inserts herself nose-first under my right elbow. This makes drinking tea or writing in my notebook very difficult.

She also gives me the filthiest of looks when I rise from the settee and head upstairs back to the Gallery or the Office. So I’ve realised that she’s lonely, poor Soopy (yes, that’s what our son christened her when he was about six) and desperately missing her ‘Lap’. Fortunately, he is due to return tomorrow evening (weather permitting) so hopefully she’ll forget her sulks and make a big fuss of him when he collapses into his armchair after dinner…. for he has Good News

And with that, I shall be off to ‘enjoy’ the dubious pleasures of dripping icy cold antibiotic eyedrops (straight from the fridge) into my poor left eye … shiver.