Something Stupid

And if we go someplace to dance, I know that there's a chance you won't be leaving with me. And afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two.

Sigh. I find myself oozed into a place of nostalgic sentimentality, and frankly (which is a nice little Frank & Nancy pun if you feel the need) there's no point fighting it. In my head I'm Nancy.

I'm attempting peaceful reading in evenings and other times when I'm not on the bike. I'm, if I'm honest, a little bit anxious about the non healing nature of my blisters. Well, not anxious perhaps but mindful of the need to stay off my feet. My head is restless and would love to be bimbling down into town or to the lake and just kind of lurking and enjoying being and seeing but I can still feel the ache in the soles of my feet fairly strongly every time I sit and acknowledge it. And every step I take hurts. Not in a big bad fat way, and it's less every day but again, acknowledging it is there despite my best efforts to deny it and soldier on. I'm hoping three days of the bike and murderously cautious effort to stay off the feet will bring me closer to cure. They are improving. The little toe one is now hard skin and free of pain. The left foot one is now no more hurty than an annoying itch. You know it's there but no more. The right foot one I've put another dressing on today. It's still a bit balloon like. But you know, if it doesn't kill you it makes you stronger, and I reckon for blisters that's the truth really because the hardened skin which appears in their place is bound to add protection, right? And it's quite a few days until the Abel Tasman trail … ...

1. Aussie trail mix has chunks of dark chocolate in it. Well, it does if you carefully scan the aisles and discount the 20 different kinds which are not comprised of chocolatey goodness.
2. 48 hour antiperspirant deodorant. Why would anyone buy anything less?
3. Makes me smile that I'm reading on the Kindle (where frankly the temptation to just download indiscriminately chick lit mind fodder is overwhelming) a book where the main character is currently in prison. Can't help noticing that unconsciously I'm referring to my room as a cell. It is actually less well equipped than the prisoner's. His has a toilet.
4. Kiwi sweet tooth – the Chai tea is cloyingly sweet. A wonderful Christmas drink and an evening comfort but for the sweet of tooth. Also the Twinings New Zealand Breakfast tea is not as I thought it might be. It definitely has the Earl Grey Bergamot thing going on in more ways than I thought a morning tea would. I like my tea to give me a bit of a kick up the arse in the mornings, and the kiwi struggles even with brewing and significant squishing to yield much more than a soft smokiness. Oh yes, I am British, despite my best efforts to well, kind of fit in. Equally I'm favouring a long black over a flat white. I like my drinks strong, dark and bitter. And can't resist the “like my men” pun which is well, if not obligatory, at least traditional.
5. Odd thing, Open Uni. There are tasks along the way, set to challenge us, to stretch us, make us explore and use techniques and see if we can make them ours. I have a task of remembering a trivial or not incident from when I was sixteen and recreating it, including dialogue for about 200 words. It's a good job it's a creative writing section and not counselling as there isn't one incident or phase from that year I can think of to write about which doesn't make me sad (proper hard to swallow lump in the throat stuff) or indeed slightly angry. I remember upsetting my brother, I remember my sister withdrawing into herself inaccessible, I remember my dad being angry, I remember my mum being properly bewilderingly over the top agitated (a bit like now really, but at least she's not drama queen sitting on the stairs in her nightie right now, or perhaps she is but I can't see her). Lower sixth, 16. And this does make the list of ten things I'm thankful for because it's kind of good to see how the grown up me was formed. Teenage years made me somehow more solid, and that's a good thing. Oooh, and I buckled down and did the work, and found something to write. And in the end it was fun. Plonked at the end of this entry along with my thoughts on writing it … yawn, boring I know for anyone reading this but hey, tough, it's all about me!
6. Time difference. It's really making me giggle. Yes, proper giggle out loud. It is a good thing I have a single room after all. Although I have got to grips with what time it is in the UK. When it comes to knowing what day it is I get a little tied in knots. Thanks to my technological ineptitude, my computer clock still shows UK time, but more hilariously the phone somehow is showing two times. It has some kind of weather app on it which is kindly letting me know it's raining in Rotorua (I had worked this out funnily enough) but also shows me the time here. But above that is a clock showing UK time. This means I can avoid waking folk in the middle of the night. Unless they are my friend who has the camper van because I know he is never asleep before 2am so he has become the recipient of my small hours of the morning texts on those occasions when I have something joyful I just have to share or I will burst. It meant I had to think hard about whether it was Christmas day or not, and I guess it'll be the same at New Year …
7. That smell after rain. It's different here. In the UK it's amazing, different in warm weather to cold, but the after rain smell that ought to be clean but is somehow earthy is different here. Here I have to open my mouth too so I can taste the smell, and it has traces of maybe eucalyptus, oils, slightly acrid which taste of smokiness too. It's amazing.
8. Sulphurous landscape. I walked gently back from the bike hire place today along the town's sulphur trail. It may not be like visiting Mars and it may not be one which makes you catch your breath and your heart swell into your rib cage but it is something the like of which I haven't seen before. There may not be giddy mountains, splendid waterfalls, lush alien vegetation, and indeed it is largely flat and grey but still something I've never seen before, and in case I never do again, I took the time to walk alongside it, walk between it, walk within it and commit it to memory.
9. Larger than life families. There's some girls staying here from an island they describe as being two hours north of North Island. Their native language is French and they are spending a lot of time just being with each other in the kitchen. Or at least they are there everytime I go in. I'm not sure if they've done much else other than be together. Today wider family have visited, and the kitchen is filled with family, and laughter and cooking of chops and sausages. I can hear the laughter along the balcony. I can feel the warmth when I go through the door. I like them. They probably think I drink a lot of tea. They may not be wrong.
10. Cake. I bought a multi pack of four different cake slices a few days ago. Afternoon tea & cake. Today's was nearly bakewell but not quite. All have been interesting, some surprising.

My bit of reality based creative writing ...

We're here, we're here, she squeaked, but just in her head, breaking out only as an unstoppable grin. The wriggling with excitement was kept to trainer trapped toes, because she was not 6 as she reminded herself. The Mini was now parked, one of many many cars in the field. Around them, people were busy getting out all kinds of things, rucksacks, deckchairs, some had cool boxes and picnic baskets. She hadn't thought to bring much, just a carrier bag with purse and cagoule.

“Where do we go now?” she asked, trying to hide her impatience to be inside.

“over there, look the way in where the others are going” he said smiling.

“Have you both got everything” asked Paul, his broad smile taking in both of them.

“yes, I've only got these bits” she replied. Phil nodded and took her hand.

“let's go!” Paul shrugged his small rucksack onto his wide back, turned in the direction of the entrance.

“shall we get a programme?” Phil asked

“oooh, yes please, I want to know when things are on.”

Paul led the way, as usual the determine clip clop of his crutches cutting a path through the crowd.

Alison's reflections on writing ...

Trying hard to “show not tell”. 16 is so young and thinks it's old. Trying to get across that this is her first ever rock concert (although it could equally have been races or anything). She's ill prepared, she's young enough that normally her parents might have taken some part in preparing her, but she has come without sunblock, water, or a warm jumper for the evening. The carrier bag is also telling, of both preparedness and cash strappedness. I know this because she was me and I could have done with both … but I was kind of young for my age in many ways and naïve and didn't really have anyone to share experience and support my thinking and planning process. It was an age where perhaps some being coached would have been appropriate in helping me to find my own wings. My learning curve seemed to be kind of unsupported in some ways, encouraging independent thought quite beautifully.

Paul was also a bit more grown up, worldly wise (oh at 19 or 20 years old). He was the driver and the one who'd been to such things before, and also an odd mix of paternal with patronising. He was also the larger character than Phil, my boyfriend at 16. The crutches reference is a little bit throw away to be honest. To me, it's just a description of fact, it's nothing dramatic or big, because crutches was simply how Paul got around because of his spina bifida. Sometimes a big part of who he is, sometimes not, but certainly something which demanded attention as he made his way through crowds. This enormous upper body and huge personality atop tiny legs.

Does it need the “trying to hide her impatience to be inside” sentence or is that shown enough in her opening words? I'm hopeful the direct reference to the vehicle type does something to add to the passage indicating youth (even though at 44 years old I still own a mini). I worked really hard to keep the language simple. Did about three redrafts to keep it more in line with how a 16 year old would have thought / written. It's funny doing that because at 16 my vocabulary was good and I wasn't afraid to use it, but I guess I'm just trying to make a 16 year old Alison conform. Bless her.

I realise I'm not comfortable writing dialogue. There's a lot of he asked, he said, he replied. If I read more dialogue maybe I'd find different techniques to do the same thing. Made slightly harder in a way by deciding to have the dialogue include three people.