Lost In Transit
A quietish week at Hedges Towers. The hurly-burly of the Town Green has subsided and it is now down to playing a waiting game. I have put certain structures in place in anticipation, and will appraise you of developments. Meanwhile on Sunday BH and I were invited to a lunch party at a couple's house we'd only been to once. Normally something to look forward to, and we do, once we've surmounted the Actually Getting There scenario, which we go through so often in our nearly 38 years together that it has now evolved into a script with its own rituals, worthy of a John Osborne play. It goes something like this: (we have been driving around for some time)
Me (eventually): You're lost, aren't you?
BH (edgily): No, I know exactly where we are.
Me: Well, so how come we aren't there by now then?
BH (testily): We're going in the right direction.
Me (because I've started): Why don't you LOOK at the map?
BH (pointedly): I HAVE looked at the map.
Me: Then why is this the second time we've driven down this road?
BH (thru' gritted teeth): Maybe YOU'D like to map read? Maybe YOU'D like to drive?
Me (crossly): Just check the map, okay? Because I don't think this is the right way.
Eventually we stop, the map is checked, the car is turned round, and we arrive at our destination. I think that this is another of those 'men are from Mars women are from Visa' things. If I need to go anywhere new, I have to do a pre-visit recce to make sure I know exactly where I'm going. And I still get anxious ....
Checking the diary, I see it is almost a year since @carolJhedges joined Twitter. I did so mainly because having uploaded Jigsaw Pieces and nearly died in the attempt, I needed to disseminate its presence and sell a few copies to make the whole ghastly experience worthwhile. Twitter has been getting a bad press recently due to the misogyny and racism that its anonymity seems to bring out in certain warped individuals, and I did do the Twitter silence on Sunday, after tweeting my support to the relevant individuals concerned.
My experience of Twitter has been positive though, despite having some very unusual followers: dogs, hotels, radio stations, pubs, lizards and last year, Lechlade Music Festival where one of BH's socks was apparently performing with The White Stripes. Don't ask. What makes Twitter such fun for me is encountering individuals with a sharp, razor-like wit. Foremost among these Twitwits, and now in the category of good friends are @LynnGerrard and @FPotts. There seems to be nothing they can't render funny. Or bizarre. Or frequently both.
I also like Twitter when it turns into a free show: there is a group of American crime writers who meet up every lunchtime (1.00pm UK time) and just bounce chitchat off each other. Nothing special, but they have me in stitches ... check out @Charles_E_Wells. It's like watching an American sitcom, only on social media. I have also been struck by the very great kindness of other Twitter people. @Vallypee, a writer who lives on a barge in Rotterdam, @HapRochelle and @RosalindAdam to name but three. If I feel upset or worried, they are there with sympathy, virtual coffee and tissues, as are many many others. You know who you are. Space dictates that I can't name check all but you're probably reading this blog post right now.
Through Twitter I have learned how to grow veg, how to download images from the internet, and how to self-publish. There seems to be an expert out there for every occasion or eventuality. I've been recommended books I'd never have read before, and enjoyed some wonderful poetry. I've had access to brilliant blogs - catch @TerryTyler4's blogs on Twitter bios of famous past writers; I've come across recipes for luscious mouth-watering cakes and listened to some amazing bands.
And I'm absolutely sure that, in the extremely unlikely event that my 2CV were ever to break down on a lonely country road in the depths of Winter, while I was in the middle of labour, there would be people on Twitter only too willing and able to help. Wouldn't you .....
Next week the PINK SOFA welcomes a very special guest: Matt Adams, editor of The Herts Advertiser will be visiting the blog. What's it like to edit a local paper? And be pestered by activists like me? All will be revealed.
Me (eventually): You're lost, aren't you?
BH (edgily): No, I know exactly where we are.
Me: Well, so how come we aren't there by now then?
BH (testily): We're going in the right direction.
Me (because I've started): Why don't you LOOK at the map?
BH (pointedly): I HAVE looked at the map.
Me: Then why is this the second time we've driven down this road?
BH (thru' gritted teeth): Maybe YOU'D like to map read? Maybe YOU'D like to drive?
Me (crossly): Just check the map, okay? Because I don't think this is the right way.
Eventually we stop, the map is checked, the car is turned round, and we arrive at our destination. I think that this is another of those 'men are from Mars women are from Visa' things. If I need to go anywhere new, I have to do a pre-visit recce to make sure I know exactly where I'm going. And I still get anxious ....
Checking the diary, I see it is almost a year since @carolJhedges joined Twitter. I did so mainly because having uploaded Jigsaw Pieces and nearly died in the attempt, I needed to disseminate its presence and sell a few copies to make the whole ghastly experience worthwhile. Twitter has been getting a bad press recently due to the misogyny and racism that its anonymity seems to bring out in certain warped individuals, and I did do the Twitter silence on Sunday, after tweeting my support to the relevant individuals concerned.
My experience of Twitter has been positive though, despite having some very unusual followers: dogs, hotels, radio stations, pubs, lizards and last year, Lechlade Music Festival where one of BH's socks was apparently performing with The White Stripes. Don't ask. What makes Twitter such fun for me is encountering individuals with a sharp, razor-like wit. Foremost among these Twitwits, and now in the category of good friends are @LynnGerrard and @FPotts. There seems to be nothing they can't render funny. Or bizarre. Or frequently both.
I also like Twitter when it turns into a free show: there is a group of American crime writers who meet up every lunchtime (1.00pm UK time) and just bounce chitchat off each other. Nothing special, but they have me in stitches ... check out @Charles_E_Wells. It's like watching an American sitcom, only on social media. I have also been struck by the very great kindness of other Twitter people. @Vallypee, a writer who lives on a barge in Rotterdam, @HapRochelle and @RosalindAdam to name but three. If I feel upset or worried, they are there with sympathy, virtual coffee and tissues, as are many many others. You know who you are. Space dictates that I can't name check all but you're probably reading this blog post right now.
Through Twitter I have learned how to grow veg, how to download images from the internet, and how to self-publish. There seems to be an expert out there for every occasion or eventuality. I've been recommended books I'd never have read before, and enjoyed some wonderful poetry. I've had access to brilliant blogs - catch @TerryTyler4's blogs on Twitter bios of famous past writers; I've come across recipes for luscious mouth-watering cakes and listened to some amazing bands.
And I'm absolutely sure that, in the extremely unlikely event that my 2CV were ever to break down on a lonely country road in the depths of Winter, while I was in the middle of labour, there would be people on Twitter only too willing and able to help. Wouldn't you .....
Next week the PINK SOFA welcomes a very special guest: Matt Adams, editor of The Herts Advertiser will be visiting the blog. What's it like to edit a local paper? And be pestered by activists like me? All will be revealed.
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