A stay at the budgie hospital hotel (Rousse)

Posted on January 22, 2012 by Dreamaticus

How fortunate that AM and I were allocated to the same hotel bedroom. Without her tutoring, I would never have known that bedside light fittings also double up as iPhone chargers, nor would I have had access to the wide range of tea that she carries everywhere.

AM was also a lot more fun than our other room mates. TPR and SG spent most of the time asleep. Even the succession of green and white budgerigars that landed noisily in our room did not stir them.

The budgies were all ill. It was up to me and AM to explain to their owners why the little birds flew so haphazardly. They had all suffered tiny strokes and would soon depart this world for birdy heaven.

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Ricki Lake, weight loss, and an over-zealous patrol man (Rousse)

Posted on January 21, 2012 by Dreamaticus

Ricki Lake looked fabulous close-up. She wore a tight black pencil skirt, white blouse and pillar box red jacket over her neat little body. My only criticism was that she was too heavily made-up. On the other hand, this was the middle of a recording a UK version of Ricki’s show in Manchester, and the make-up artist had done a good job of softening her angular features.

I was at the recording thanks to the generosity of SM and BC, who had clubbed together to buy me a ticket. I knew nobody else in the audience, but this didn’t matter. It was enough to be there and watch the star of the show interact with everyone else. The American audience members were easily spotted because they all wore long red gowns that billowed over their enormous bellies. As I reflected on the size of the Americans it crossed my mind that Ricki Lake herself was once huge, yet today she looked minscule. Had she perhaps undergone plastic surgery? How else could she have shed so much weight?

On my way home I called in at my grandmother’s house in Hexham. It was a while since I’d taken the car there, and I had difficulties getting it out of the street after my visit. EH volunteered to take the wheel and – thanks to her driving expertise – soon we were on our way north again. We expected a straight run home so were most annoyed when a police patrol car pulled us over. Apparently EH had broken the speed limit. This was a load of nonsense and we would do everything in our powers for the ticket to be revoked. The over-zealous patrol man didn’t have a clue who he had taken on.

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Rousse is left holding the rag doll baby

Posted on January 19, 2012 by Dreamaticus

The excitement invested in anticipating the trip to China and meeting SC, her husband and their children, was eclipsed by the nature of our one and only encounter. We sat in front seats of the Landrover, then they opened the passenger door, quickly pushed past us, and made their exit through the driver’s door. On the way out they dropped the tiniest of their children. Then they disappeared into the night.

So now I was left to look after a miniature Chinese rag doll baby. I didn’t even know how to feed such a child – if, indeed, it needed feeding at all.

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Moomin office delight (Rousse)

Posted on January 17, 2012 by Dreamaticus

All my colleagues on campus were dressed in matching black suits with peach cravats (or scarves for the ladies). Most were also carrying wands. I hung my head in shame. It was so long since I’d attended a graduation ceremony that I was completely unaware of the new fashion.

Anyway, there was no way that I was going to prance around in that kind of garb brandishing a big black stick, so once more I’d miss graduation day. It also looked like the boys due to graduate wouldn’t make the ceremony either. They were all huddled around a TV screen with PT, completely enthralled by a cricket match. It was difficult to tell whether they were supporting England or hoping they’d be thrashed, but the longer the boys remained transfixed by the action, the less likely it was that they would pick up their degrees.

I left them to it and wandered up to my office. There I found TPR and three technicians charging up piles and piles of iPods. Of more interest to me was the new office decor. Some of the furniture had been painted my favourite shade of purple. Even better, I had new curtains depicting – to my complete and utter delight – Moomins!

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The super-speedy husband (Rousse)

Posted on January 17, 2012 by Dreamaticus

While SM completed a half marathon in 1 hour, 30 minutes and 1 second, TPR ran the entire distance from Edinburgh to Newcastle along the A1 in just over three hours. By his calculations the distance was 30 miles. I was pretty sure it was over 100. Once more I was super-impressed by his sporting prowess.

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Time-travelling Rousse misses several photo opportunities and breaks a promise

Posted on January 17, 2012 by Dreamaticus

I was in desperate need of a decent picture for my photo journal. I simply couldn’t find anything nearby that was interesting enough to snap. Then I struck upon an idea. If I travelled back in time just a couple of weeks, I could capture the excitement of Christmas.

My first stop was the Isle of Skye in early December 2011. I boasted to a stranger that I’d come from the future. When he said that he didn’t believe me, I boldly replied “You will when you hear the news on 13th January 2012 that a huge cruise liner has run aground on rocks off the Isola del Giglio in Italy”. He couldn’t care a fig. If I were him, I would have rushed immediately to the bookies. I wrote off the conversation completely when he then confessed that he had never noticed the message grown into the mountainside across the valley. The vegetation spelt out “Hush! Silence as you commute to work please”. You really couldn’t miss it – unless you were the least perceptive man on Skye, of course.

Next I set off for Portree to see what I would find to photograph there. I was surprised to discover that the capital of Skye was large enough to have its very own China Town. Then I worked out that I had now somehow travelled forward in time because here they were all celebrating Chinese New Year. I was just about to settle down for a meal in a Chinese restaurant run by a bald English man when a family of four came through the door with a complaint. The little girl had found tooth-sized lump of wood in her takeaway. The owner was highly embarrassed and asked me to promise never to admit that I had witnessed this incident.

I left the restaurant and continued my quest. What would I photograph now that I had several options? There were trains, a ship against a beautiful sunset, and a field full of sheep. Just as I trained my lens on the flock a dog jumped up at me and stole my shoe. Then my friend SL ran up to me in a complete panic with something urgent to tell me. As the sun went down and all natural light with it, I sacrificed my last opportunity to get a picture to listen to SL’s dark secret. It really could have waited. All she wanted to say was that X’s voice really irritated her.

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Miss Piggy’s magic stilletoes (Belle)

Posted on January 16, 2012 by Dreamaticus

Miss Piggy’s sparkly shoes looked so small resting in the palm of my hand. Yet when I tried them on, they fitted me. Had my feet shrunk? Taking off the shoes, I could see my feet were still a size 6. The only possible explanation was that the shoes were magic.

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Shetland’s craziest coach driver (Rousse)

Posted on January 15, 2012 by Dreamaticus

We had both settled into our seats on the train on the way to the airport when I asked TPR what he had done with the suitcase. Although we’d both remembered our rucksacks as hand luggage, he’d forgotten to pick up the larger bag from the hotel reception. It appeared that the best course of action would be for him to go back and retrieve our bag. I would continue to the airport on my own. There was a still chance that we’d both make it to the flight in time.

I transferred from the train to a coach for the last leg of the journey. As we headed north across Shetland towards the airport I pointed out of the window at the mountain peaks. I boasted to the other passengers of how TPR and I had tackled them by tandem on our last visit. I also attempted a conversation with the coach driver. I had spotted the pile of brand new children’s toys on a spare seat and asked who they were for. He growled back at me not to touch them. They were part of a collection for Rachel, a child who had recently died. I was desperate to ask what use new toys were to a dead child, but kept my mouth shut. It was clear that the driver did not want to speak to me.

In an effort to make the journey more interesting, however, a little later the driver announced that he was taking a diversion through a theme park. He then terrified us all by driving into the path of a set of dodgem cars that came careering down the hillside. We were given a few minutes in a souvenir shop afterwards to recover from the near-death experience.

When we finally returned to the coach for last few miles of the journey I checked my watch. It was 13:00. Our flight was at 13:15 and there was no hope of my making it to the gate in time. I should have gone back to the hotel to fetch the suitcase with TPR. This course of action may also have risked missing the flight, but at least I’d still have the company of my husband – a much more attractive option than serving a sentence as passenger of Shetland’s craziest coach driver.

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A grandmother, assorted colleagues, South American doctoral studies, and an ex-boyfriend (Rousse)

Posted on January 15, 2012 by Dreamaticus

The venue for KB’s last meeting before she finally retired was the sitting room of my grandmother’s house in Hexham. My last visit to the house was in 1992, but little had changed in 20 years. I tested the comfort of the knobbly green sofa, padded across the dark green swirly hall carpet, opened and closed the glass porch door, and peered into each of the other rooms. The only differences were in the size of the hall and the spare bedroom, and the addition of a further bedroom where the garage had once been.

Back in the sitting room once more, I was just coming to terms with the enormity of the challenge of stepping into KB’s shoes when a small South American academic reminded me that I had agreed to co-supervise Carlos, one of his PhD students. This was yet another commitment that I had forgotten about and probably wouldn’t be able to honour.

Someone noticed my evident distress and threw his arms round me in comfort. I thought this was rather unprofessional: colleagues did not normally behave in this way. Then I discovered that this “someone” was a gatecrasher. My ex-boyfriend ST had wangled an invitation to the meeting. He had rightly concluded that the easiest way to grab any time with me was to track me down at work.

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More basking sharks (Rousse)

Posted on January 14, 2012 by Dreamaticus

The basking sharks were so close to the shore that I could stroke them. How amazing!

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