Monthly Archives

December 1991

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I say goodbye to 1991 with a new-fangled and somehow unique mixture of Press Gang, Clive James saying ‘hello’ to some French weathergirl, the Russians and their new year, and not forgetting the home-spun party, Big Ben’s Bongs, and a…

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Leaving Weston, we say goodbye to our cousins, and prepare to say goodbye to this year, 1991. But it is not over as yet … there is still time for something miraculous to happen…

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A morning walking in the woods, and an afternoon watching home videos from America frolled by Christmas cake, and yet more presents that this Christmas there seems to have been an abundance of. Yet another happy face at the sight…

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No time swallower this year. Instead a mass invasion of Campkin’s and their friends at the Cricket Clujb in Weston-super-Mare, at the what will proobably have beeen the Goodbye to England party for my (now) American cousins.

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An unaventful trip down to Western, culamates in another two people happy at receiving one of my prized etchings. for about the fist time in about five years I see my cousins from America – to find that save for…

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Boxing Day – the day after day. Some of the magic has yet lingered on, but it is weak, although it does leave a pleasant trail of happiness fading slowly away.

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Christmas Day – the magic has burst out upon us. It’s such a wonderful feeling to see the humour of every single person round the hearth opeing one of your very own creations. You see hat your art has brought…

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Christmas Eve, and though the magic of the festive season is not totally the same as last year, I can hear little delicate chimes of joy and happiness – Christmas cheer even – just waiting backstage and setting the scene.

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I honestly did try to do some work on my bloody modernism essay, but I’m afraid that this close to Christmas it’s just a sheer impossibility to do work – instead I’m enjoying being with my family and workig (pleasure!)…

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The bliss of a good, long lie in. I’m happy, refeshed, and joyful that I did at last manage to snatch a few brief words with Kirstie, and find out what has happened.

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My Christmas desire was granted today – I got to speak to Kirstie (Leonard) after the post round, and I found out how she’s getting on… She’s at Plymouth College now doing Linguistics and Sociology, and really enjoying college life….

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The Christmas Tree has gone up at last. These moments feel really Christmassy but it’s now way the same as the magic of last year. Perhaps I’m trying to relive those happy memories … perhaps that that is the mistake…

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The charm or rather the novelty of the Christmas post is wearing off. Each day at 7:30 it’s down to the sorting office to deliver letters to people who are still sleeping. It’s a hard slog in reality … and…

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A bitterly cold day, I’m out delivering the post trying desperately to avoid the terrible dog smells of The Pippins, and Orchard Lane, my nose is running. OUt of tissues, I plead in Blunderson’s only shop for something to blow…

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Ideas come, and ideas go. When I stand on street corners waiting to be picked up with the post I find myself, not planning out my story to myself, but auguing how to arrange a sequence of film so that…

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Bitterly cold today – almost sad to have come down from the warm north. Fog looms, hiding the gentle dliciousness of frosg, and the festive needs of coloured lights.

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First full day of Christmas Holls, and I’m settling back into home comforts, but I find I am missing something from Hall life – I’m not sure what it is, there’s some closeness, unidentifiable, yet hanging onto me, pulling me…

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Departing from a now deserted room, leaving the chill north and making my way home on the train, I am left, as we travel through the fog and frosty Fens, to ponder the memories of Sally. I hate it –…

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Broke the confidence barrier today – well tonight. The Hall Party – the first official one I think, and I went from sitting down, to standing up, and then finally learning to dance, under the guidance of pushy neighbours who…

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