A MILD sedative, that was what the doctor said he was prescribing for the sleeplessness which was taking away my ability to think. Not sure how mild mild's meant to be, but anything which knocks you out for not only the night but also most of the next day surely doesn't qualify? I sleepwalked through the end of term party, went back to bed in the afternoon and mumbled replies to anyone daft enough to ask me a question, till about teatime.
Barney and Sweetie say they didn't notice any difference.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Don't send this man to the US
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Twits
Do you Twitter?
I'm struggling to understand the usefulness of a system that allows you to say 'I've had a bad day', but without being able to cover why or how or what you might do differently tomorrow. How much satisfaction would you get from that?
If I've had a bad day I want to tell the world in full, with exactly who's done what wrong to whom and what I'd like to do to them. And in return I want sympathy, lots of it. Do you get that on Twitter? Nope.
And if I'm simply 'wishing it was Sunday' (the basis of one Twitter I spotted over Barney's shoulder) - well, I think even I could have had that thought without announcing it to anyone at all. I could just think it, inside my own little head.
Go on, tell me I've missed something and there's more to Twitter than I realise.
I'm struggling to understand the usefulness of a system that allows you to say 'I've had a bad day', but without being able to cover why or how or what you might do differently tomorrow. How much satisfaction would you get from that?
If I've had a bad day I want to tell the world in full, with exactly who's done what wrong to whom and what I'd like to do to them. And in return I want sympathy, lots of it. Do you get that on Twitter? Nope.
And if I'm simply 'wishing it was Sunday' (the basis of one Twitter I spotted over Barney's shoulder) - well, I think even I could have had that thought without announcing it to anyone at all. I could just think it, inside my own little head.
Go on, tell me I've missed something and there's more to Twitter than I realise.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Want your story published in the Guardian?
Okay, well, have a look here to be in with a chance.
But wait...make sure you read the rules first!
I can cope with the only prize being that you get your story published in a major newspaper. It's a free comp and if you're wanting to raise your profile as a writer, or hoping to have a novel ready for sending out soon, that might be a very good thing indeed.
On the other hand, it says in the rules that the winner may be needed for promotional activity and will be responsible for all other costs associated with winning the prize. So, if you live in Aberdeen and suspect the promotional activity might involve a costly trip down to London, I'd give it a miss.
But wait...make sure you read the rules first!
I can cope with the only prize being that you get your story published in a major newspaper. It's a free comp and if you're wanting to raise your profile as a writer, or hoping to have a novel ready for sending out soon, that might be a very good thing indeed.
On the other hand, it says in the rules that the winner may be needed for promotional activity and will be responsible for all other costs associated with winning the prize. So, if you live in Aberdeen and suspect the promotional activity might involve a costly trip down to London, I'd give it a miss.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
My name is Honeysuckle and I'm a Youtubeaholic
I really didn't mean to spend two whole hours on Youtube. I meant to plant some baskets up, plan some lessons, mark some work, write a story, strip some walls, maybe make a cake and clear my wardrobe out.
Instead I found myself re-visiting my childhood: Andy Stewart singing A Scottish Soldier, and some guy in a car singing Seven Little Girls. Then I moved on to the Monkees - re-living the many hours I spent in the summer of '67 watching their TV show on a Saturday teatime - and from there to Michael Nesmith, who's as unashamedly Country and Western as my tastes get. Then it was back to Twinkle and Boy of My Dreams - I remembered the long blonde hair but not the way she stood on stage in a frumpy dress, hardly moving. I once sold a story based on Twinkle singing that song, so I suppose it could've been research (albeit after the event). But how do I justify North Sea Gas, Francoise Hardy and Eric Bogle? Not to mention Harry Worth muttering: 'My name is Harry Worth..I don't know why, but there it is...'
Well, I've wasted all that time now. It hardly seems worth starting work at this late hour. I wonder if there's a good version on there of Love Minus Zero? I'll just drop by for a quick look. Just the one, you understand.
Instead I found myself re-visiting my childhood: Andy Stewart singing A Scottish Soldier, and some guy in a car singing Seven Little Girls. Then I moved on to the Monkees - re-living the many hours I spent in the summer of '67 watching their TV show on a Saturday teatime - and from there to Michael Nesmith, who's as unashamedly Country and Western as my tastes get. Then it was back to Twinkle and Boy of My Dreams - I remembered the long blonde hair but not the way she stood on stage in a frumpy dress, hardly moving. I once sold a story based on Twinkle singing that song, so I suppose it could've been research (albeit after the event). But how do I justify North Sea Gas, Francoise Hardy and Eric Bogle? Not to mention Harry Worth muttering: 'My name is Harry Worth..I don't know why, but there it is...'
Well, I've wasted all that time now. It hardly seems worth starting work at this late hour. I wonder if there's a good version on there of Love Minus Zero? I'll just drop by for a quick look. Just the one, you understand.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
New Romantics
Buster has a girlfriend. Sort of.
What happens is, we take him to the pub or a neighbouring town or somewhere else. And if on one of these jaunts he's spied by his lovely pal Lola, she stomps across to him, plants a hand on each side of his face and kisses him enthusiastically for quite some time. Then she smiles at him and walks away. No words are exchanged. Buster usually emerges from the encounter looking fairly bemused. Occasionally there's a shy, little smile on his face. Once he asked afterwards: Is Lola my girlfriend now?
It probably won't be a lasting relationship, but for now an occasional, sloppy kiss in public seems to be sufficient for both of them. Aw.
What happens is, we take him to the pub or a neighbouring town or somewhere else. And if on one of these jaunts he's spied by his lovely pal Lola, she stomps across to him, plants a hand on each side of his face and kisses him enthusiastically for quite some time. Then she smiles at him and walks away. No words are exchanged. Buster usually emerges from the encounter looking fairly bemused. Occasionally there's a shy, little smile on his face. Once he asked afterwards: Is Lola my girlfriend now?
It probably won't be a lasting relationship, but for now an occasional, sloppy kiss in public seems to be sufficient for both of them. Aw.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
No help from the A Team
After many years of trying to persuade the relevant people to please consider the evidence we were putting before them in terms of his behaviours and obvious anxieties, we've finally got a diagnosis of autism/Asperger's for Buster. He's nearly twenty!
What does this mean for him? Well, very little now. He's living in a small home which is probably as good as any institution's going to be. Probably nothing will change there because the behaviours which have now been given a name were already there and are for the most part (I think/hope!) responded to appropriately.
But how much help might've been available in his early years? The local authority has a dedicated ASD team - maybe they all do.
How lovely to have been able to ask for advice on different issues.
How great to have been able to join a support group.
How wonderful to have been able to use a name for Buster's condition rather than people around thinking he was just miscellaneously strange.
How great it would've been to be able to explain better to Sweetie the reasons for his rages, the fact that he couldn't control his responses, the way his mind might be working. How different might their relationship have been?
Sounds like I think life would've been hunkydory if we'd only known! Not really tho' - life's not easy with any child with disabilities, and many with autism are farther along the spectrum than Buster. But with a bit more knowledge and support we could've done a better job so this morning I just felt like indulging in a few 'if only's.
What does this mean for him? Well, very little now. He's living in a small home which is probably as good as any institution's going to be. Probably nothing will change there because the behaviours which have now been given a name were already there and are for the most part (I think/hope!) responded to appropriately.
But how much help might've been available in his early years? The local authority has a dedicated ASD team - maybe they all do.
How lovely to have been able to ask for advice on different issues.
How great to have been able to join a support group.
How wonderful to have been able to use a name for Buster's condition rather than people around thinking he was just miscellaneously strange.
How great it would've been to be able to explain better to Sweetie the reasons for his rages, the fact that he couldn't control his responses, the way his mind might be working. How different might their relationship have been?
Sounds like I think life would've been hunkydory if we'd only known! Not really tho' - life's not easy with any child with disabilities, and many with autism are farther along the spectrum than Buster. But with a bit more knowledge and support we could've done a better job so this morning I just felt like indulging in a few 'if only's.
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