Luggage to Catalonia
Sunday, January 02, 2005
Up early this morning to see Isla off on a school trip to Barcelona. Lots of giggling, talking nonsense, nerves, and apprehension. And that was just me. Laura took Isla to the school to meet the coach at 6.30 while I slipped back to bed in my role of babysitting Sean and Kirstie.
Last night we were convincing ourselves that Isla hadn;t been away for five days before and that this was a first for the family. Nonsense, of course. Two years ago she went to the Isle of Wight on a trip with her primary school for the same length of time. Age, alcohol, and the constant pressure of time seem to make memory increasingly selective.
Friends for dinner last night that we first met in Singapore. They also have three children, all of a similar age to ours and who have always got on very well together. So a pleasant evening on the whole. They have a tendency, however, to quiz me on my writing, which forever puts me on the defensive. Why? Simply because my writing tends to equate with 'failure' at every turn. There's nothing like throwing the word failure (and possibly adding 'hopeless', 'impractical', and 'moron' in for good measure) around the dinner table to darken the mood.
If anyone cares, here's what's happening in my writing at the moment. I'm working on a novel called 'Donna's Nipple' and a memoir of sorts in which I'm trying to discover the life I might have led had abuse not played a part in my childhood. That's called 'KSC774 and The Mexican Bandits'.
Last night we were convincing ourselves that Isla hadn;t been away for five days before and that this was a first for the family. Nonsense, of course. Two years ago she went to the Isle of Wight on a trip with her primary school for the same length of time. Age, alcohol, and the constant pressure of time seem to make memory increasingly selective.
Friends for dinner last night that we first met in Singapore. They also have three children, all of a similar age to ours and who have always got on very well together. So a pleasant evening on the whole. They have a tendency, however, to quiz me on my writing, which forever puts me on the defensive. Why? Simply because my writing tends to equate with 'failure' at every turn. There's nothing like throwing the word failure (and possibly adding 'hopeless', 'impractical', and 'moron' in for good measure) around the dinner table to darken the mood.
If anyone cares, here's what's happening in my writing at the moment. I'm working on a novel called 'Donna's Nipple' and a memoir of sorts in which I'm trying to discover the life I might have led had abuse not played a part in my childhood. That's called 'KSC774 and The Mexican Bandits'.
