‘Come on Rousse!’ shouted JG through the door, ‘We’ve all travelled miles to see you at this party’.
I had no choice. I would have to head downstairs and face everyone.
First, however, I spent a few moments with the scruffy old man that we had nicknamed ‘the Grinch’. We spoke quietly of our illnesses and the fast diminishing amount of time we each had left on this earth.
I was at the sunny British seaside to observe a research project. A fairground ride/obstacle course/car wash style experience had been built into the cliffs. Animals would enter the tunnel and would emerge at the other end with all their unhappiness removed.
First, a killer whale swam through and went back to the ocean. Then Spike Milligan sent a dog through. As I watched it retreat into the tunnel I was transfixed by the fact that the markings on the dog’s rear end looked exactly like a face. “That dog looks as if it’s running backwards”, I said to Spike. “Then THAT’S the dog I want”, he replied.
My cousins S and N pleaded with me to dance with them so I agreed – but first I needed to put on some clothes.
I returned to the camper van (my home for the past few months) and pulled on the pair of red and white hooped woollen tights that the cousins had given me for a Christmas present. Then, rather than put on a top, I accidentally added a pair of black leggings to my outfit.
Two hours later an elderly family friend picked me up walking along on Milton Road West. She couldn’t understand why I would be heading out of Edinburgh on the A1, completely naked from the waist upwards. Nor could I.
The message in very untidy writing on an old scrap of paper was from HJ’s husband R. His invitation to TPR was to travel with R to Australia to run a marathon.
A small black American stranger asked us if anyone could help her track down someone called Bonnie.
‘No problem’, I replied. ‘Please tell us a bit more about Bonnie. I’m pretty sure that I will know her’.
Most of the others looked at me in disbelief. The rest – all familiar with my networking track record – were pretty confident that I would find a connection to Bonnie, one way or another.
Back in Stockton-on-Tees, I was a little more courageous when talking to the boys, even though it was obvious that they would have preferred the company of ECM.
In conversation with AG and ST it emerged that I was the last to know that SS had spent most of his adult life in prison.
I recognised several faces in the huge crush around the UK Electronic Information Group stand, including KB, MR and JG-T.
The main attraction, however, was the hidden display of fancy goods behind the stand. I had my eye on the 1950s hair decorations, but I predicted that the biggest fight would be over an emerald and pearl bracelet.
Dreamaticus 