Random Jottings of a Man About to Leave

[desperance]

It's about this time of year - when the weather turns chilly and the central heating doesn't work - that Barry decides that actually he might really be a lap-cat after all, y'know? We get some heavy-duty sitting. Last night he even came and sat on me in bed.

It's raining out there, a sound I have been flinching from for years. Today I am sitting here reminding myself warmly that I no longer need to care about the rain. My house no longer lets it in; I have a waterproof roof. I had to go up into the roofspace yesterday (a complex procedure, involving athletic balancing and gymnastic raisings of self on unaccustomed muscles) to see if I could fix the central heating the only way I know how (and no, I couldn't) - and for the first time in years I really needed the torch, because it was pitch black without it. There was no light squeezing in through holes, not anywhere.

Last weekend I had a couple of days in Birmingham with The Write Fantastic, then a couple of days in Henley with Helen & Mark. I really like Henley; it's become one of my fantasy if-I-won-the-lottery-I-could-buy-a-house-here destinations. Handy for Oxford, handy for London, and a river runs through it. (Yes, I know Newcastle has a river too, but the city has sort of grown apart from it; most times I'm in town, I go nowhere near the river. In Henley it's just there, unavoidable. And it's the Thames, too: it's my river.) Also, Henley has restaurants. Many many restaurants, of the if-I-won-the-lottery-I-could-afford-to-eat-here variety. Damn, I wish my numbers would come up.

I should go back to packing; this weekend I am in Nottingham, for FantasyCon. Indeed, I'm leaving in two hours. I have remembered, mirabile dictu, to print out a story to read late-night tonight (the same story I read at Summer Phantoms this year, in a blatant attempt to encourage more people to buy last year's Phantoms anthology). I have no idea what I've forgotten, but no doubt there will be something. Last weekend, magnificently, it was all the contact details for my host Stan: his phone numbers, his address and how to get there. If I hadn't met Debbie at the train station, I'd have been more than a little stuck. That doesn't apply this weekend, as I'm getting a lift! In a car! But there will be something. I always forget something, it's a tradition.

I invented a tradition once. I think. I said, "If you want to come back somewhere, leave something of your own behind you and take something of theirs away." I only said it on the spur of the moment, to make myself sound more interesting (I was very young, and very much in love) but it kind of stuck - and I don't think I'd picked it up anywhere, I think it was my very own.

Pack, pack. How many teddy bears to take? (It's a serious question: I always take Softly, obviously - see icon - but now there is the Write Fantastic bear as well, who could stake a claim for coming.) How many books to read? (Just one - no train journeys! - but it's a fat one: biography of Gore Vidal. Still not finished, because I've only been reading it on trains, and I keep writing on trains instead of reading.) How many books to sell? (Lots, but only 'Phantoms'. I kind of hope to see my own books in the dealers' room, 'specially as I'm shortlisted for the best-novel award. Which I keep forgetting about...)

*exit, pursued by packing*

Comments

[szandara.livejournal.com]

I have believed in this Fundamental Rule of Packing for years: you always forget at least one item, and pack at least one item that you never take out of your bag until you return home and unpack.

The trick is to forget something that is easily replaceable at your destination, like toothpaste.

*exit, accompanied by teddy bears*

[mantichore.livejournal.com]

- sigh -

I so much wish I could be in Nottingham for FantasyCon. But I'm working at the airport tomorrow and Nottingham seems well-nigh unreachable, from Bordeaux.

Dramatic - sigh - again

[pennski.livejournal.com]

Yes! I was about to add the teddy bears line!