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Eggs and sausage
Mar. 18th, 2007 11:07 pmToday I have been mostly going to, being in and coming home from Huddersfield. Ah, romantic Huddersfield...
Actually, I kind of like it. M'friend Ann Cleeves used to live there or thereabouts; she has now returned to the home of her heart (viz the north-east coast, just downriver from me), but I had some good times visiting. We used to hold Murder Squad meetings in her house, as being more or less the midpoint between us all, and always welcoming.
Anyway, I was booked to run a workshop at a Readers' Day in the library; so up early and train down, and then much hanging around in the green room, drinking coffee and eating Danish, interspersed by a couple of hours of coaxing the willing through the broad gates of fantasy fiction. I always kind of dread workshops, while I take other gigs entirely in my stride; I kind of enjoy playing entertainer, but I hate positions of responsibility. Playing teacher still does not sit well with me, despite all my years of practice.
Still, two hours proved not to be enough, which is always a good sign, and people seemed to enjoy themselves. Certainly there was some interesting writing emerging by the end, which is the point of the exercise.
And so more trains, and so home, to feed a plaintive cat (he really doesn't like being left all day; I'm thinking again about getting him a playmate, but I'm still worried, his only idea of play being so particularly bitey) and then myself. Y'know how spaghetti carbonara was allegedly created for Americans, who missed their eggs and bacon? Well, now I have a new version. Eggs'n'sausage. Viz, I had no pancetta, but I did have chorizo. S'nice. And ready, from scratch, in about twelve minutes. Chaz does fast food. 'Stonishing...
Actually, I kind of like it. M'friend Ann Cleeves used to live there or thereabouts; she has now returned to the home of her heart (viz the north-east coast, just downriver from me), but I had some good times visiting. We used to hold Murder Squad meetings in her house, as being more or less the midpoint between us all, and always welcoming.
Anyway, I was booked to run a workshop at a Readers' Day in the library; so up early and train down, and then much hanging around in the green room, drinking coffee and eating Danish, interspersed by a couple of hours of coaxing the willing through the broad gates of fantasy fiction. I always kind of dread workshops, while I take other gigs entirely in my stride; I kind of enjoy playing entertainer, but I hate positions of responsibility. Playing teacher still does not sit well with me, despite all my years of practice.
Still, two hours proved not to be enough, which is always a good sign, and people seemed to enjoy themselves. Certainly there was some interesting writing emerging by the end, which is the point of the exercise.
And so more trains, and so home, to feed a plaintive cat (he really doesn't like being left all day; I'm thinking again about getting him a playmate, but I'm still worried, his only idea of play being so particularly bitey) and then myself. Y'know how spaghetti carbonara was allegedly created for Americans, who missed their eggs and bacon? Well, now I have a new version. Eggs'n'sausage. Viz, I had no pancetta, but I did have chorizo. S'nice. And ready, from scratch, in about twelve minutes. Chaz does fast food. 'Stonishing...