Friday, July 08, 2005
Finding The Flow
It has been a long week. It started with the visible build-up in the city for the G8 protests, which when it finally arrived, seemed to be reported everywhere and have a detrimental effect on everyone. By midweek the summit arrived along with prolonged and needless violence; the media becoming swamped with images and stories of violence. Then yesterday the London bomb attacks happened, and on waking today the whole thing felt like an awful 24-hour dream. Suddenly, the anarchists on Princes Street seemed as trivial and distant as the tiny new freckle I could just make out on my second from right toe.
And so with my morning coffee in hand, I relived all the images and updated stories from yesterdays bomb blast. The one over-riding emotion I feel today is of utmost pride towards the people in our emergency services who's carefully detailed plans came to fruition and helped save many lives. But more especially, the courage and determination of Londoners and the reaction from the British people towards this outrage, is something I feel very proud and humbled by. Yet again, it has taken a terrible catastrophe of this nature to unite our country, which many have often commented on as already having gone down the tubes.
Not so, say I. You just have to look at their faces and listen to their voices; the words they use and tone, to get the strong feeling that the age-old adage of the stiff British upper-lip is alive and well. The spirit that saw us through two World Wars, the Falklands conflict, countless IRA attacks, Lockerbie and numerous other terrorist atrocities can never be taken from our hearts. It would appear that we are born with it.
Having spent the majority of yesterday getting the house into tip-top shape, I had my day planned to a 'T'.
I would get Laura ready, take a bath and read up on some articles in Writing Magazine. Then I would take Laura out for lunch with Gail at 12 and come back and enjoy a full day of writing in an empty, tidy house.
The first part went well and then Laura and I walked into Leith and had lunch with Gail at The Waterline pub on the Shore (child friendly). Then we came back and due to the extreme heat I doused Laura in some factor 30 and sent her out to play.
It was about 2pm when I turned on the PC. Almost as soon as my hands hit the keyboard Ian walked in the front door to do some DIY. Not so much as a knock, or ring of the bell. What the feck?!? Even on a hot summer's day with Gail at work and Laura out playing, after getting everything the way I want it, I cannot get time away from FIL to write - in my own goddamn house!!!
I played it diplomatically of course; what else could I do? But despite his constant whistling and singing and banging and questions about me doing work from home (I never tell him about the writing much) I did manage to get a little work done.
Another re-write on Whisky Snatching; it's still improving in terms of quality of the plot and I worked on the answers to the questions for the 13 Travelling Journals Project. I got through some smaller pieces on my GDR; more an exercise in catching up so I can tick off some items from the GDR. I wrote into the evening but was continually distracted with the task of baby-sitting.
I got a load of words down and I'm happy with the fact I got to a good point, but I'm never satisfied with it. I never get enough done that I set out to do and it was mildly frustrating although some of the stuff I was coming up with was really good. I seem to have hit a seem; long may it continue. I just need to find solid working hours away from life without feeling I am doing it at the expense of everyone else. I just wish I was shown the same courtesy.
And so with my morning coffee in hand, I relived all the images and updated stories from yesterdays bomb blast. The one over-riding emotion I feel today is of utmost pride towards the people in our emergency services who's carefully detailed plans came to fruition and helped save many lives. But more especially, the courage and determination of Londoners and the reaction from the British people towards this outrage, is something I feel very proud and humbled by. Yet again, it has taken a terrible catastrophe of this nature to unite our country, which many have often commented on as already having gone down the tubes.
Not so, say I. You just have to look at their faces and listen to their voices; the words they use and tone, to get the strong feeling that the age-old adage of the stiff British upper-lip is alive and well. The spirit that saw us through two World Wars, the Falklands conflict, countless IRA attacks, Lockerbie and numerous other terrorist atrocities can never be taken from our hearts. It would appear that we are born with it.
Having spent the majority of yesterday getting the house into tip-top shape, I had my day planned to a 'T'.
I would get Laura ready, take a bath and read up on some articles in Writing Magazine. Then I would take Laura out for lunch with Gail at 12 and come back and enjoy a full day of writing in an empty, tidy house.
The first part went well and then Laura and I walked into Leith and had lunch with Gail at The Waterline pub on the Shore (child friendly). Then we came back and due to the extreme heat I doused Laura in some factor 30 and sent her out to play.
It was about 2pm when I turned on the PC. Almost as soon as my hands hit the keyboard Ian walked in the front door to do some DIY. Not so much as a knock, or ring of the bell. What the feck?!? Even on a hot summer's day with Gail at work and Laura out playing, after getting everything the way I want it, I cannot get time away from FIL to write - in my own goddamn house!!!
I played it diplomatically of course; what else could I do? But despite his constant whistling and singing and banging and questions about me doing work from home (I never tell him about the writing much) I did manage to get a little work done.
Another re-write on Whisky Snatching; it's still improving in terms of quality of the plot and I worked on the answers to the questions for the 13 Travelling Journals Project. I got through some smaller pieces on my GDR; more an exercise in catching up so I can tick off some items from the GDR. I wrote into the evening but was continually distracted with the task of baby-sitting.
I got a load of words down and I'm happy with the fact I got to a good point, but I'm never satisfied with it. I never get enough done that I set out to do and it was mildly frustrating although some of the stuff I was coming up with was really good. I seem to have hit a seem; long may it continue. I just need to find solid working hours away from life without feeling I am doing it at the expense of everyone else. I just wish I was shown the same courtesy.
Colin 12:21 pm
1 Comments:
The strength and resilience of all UK citizens never ceases to amaze me. [[hugs]].
