tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19807020493077374772024-03-14T04:03:32.716+00:00Caret_TopWelcome to my blog, all about reading, writing and whatever's going on in my head. Click the 'Fiction' label to see some of my creative writing.Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-82335608548240044282015-08-29T22:40:00.000+01:002015-08-29T22:40:33.127+01:00Plenty more apples on the treeThere's an apple tree outside my house. It doesn't belong to me but sometimes I pick the apples from it.<br />
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I think the piece of land it's on belongs to the council. I think this because someone comes and cuts the grass on a motorised lawn mower every now and then. I'm not sure though because I recently tried to report that part of the tree had fallen down and the council said they weren't responsible for it but thanks for telling them about it anyway.<br />
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Anyway, my point was that I was going to talk about the apples. I think they're supposed to be eating apples, but they don't taste very nice so I decided to cook with them.<br />
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The first thing I made was apple pie, which was delicious.<br />
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Then, I topped some plum tarts with slices of apple, to make "plupple pies". I accidentally partially caramelised the apple slices in the microwave. I put them in a bowl with some sugar and microwaved them to soften them but they were too dry and came out sticky. It worked out OK, though, and they tasted lovely with the stewed plums.<br />
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Then today we had apple crumble. No picture because I was hungry and ate it all too quickly.<br />
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I tried to stew the rest of the apples I'd picked today and it went a bit wrong. I left the chopped apple in the pan and went to watch TV. When the show ended and I remembered the apples, they'd burnt and stuck to the bottom of the pan! Never mind, there are plenty more apples on the tree.Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-17812661558160734932015-08-28T20:12:00.000+01:002015-08-28T20:16:00.058+01:00Paris selfie challengeA couple of weekends ago I went to visit a friend in Paris. Before I went, I asked my husband if he wanted me to get him a souvenir. "Yes," he answered. "Something to prove that you've been there." I suggested a selfie of me at the airport and a map of the Metro. And the selfie challenge was born.<br />
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Selfie challenge 1: the airport</h3>
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Selfie challenge 2: a Metro map</h3>
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Selfie challenge 3: some French food</h3>
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This was a nice piece of duck but the potatoes were very garlicky - well, what did I expect from French cooking? The pear tart that followed was also delicious.</div>
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Selfie challenge 4: a selfie with my friend</h3>
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I had to prove that I'd found my friend and wasn't just wandering around on my own. I took and sent a selfie, but it's quite blurry so I'm not uploading it here.</div>
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Selfie challenge 5: have a sword fight with a baguette</h3>
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We went to the boulangerie early in the morning, as is the French way, but we didn't get baguettes, so here I am charging at the camera with a croissant.</div>
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Then you eat the croissant, thus disarming her:</div>
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Bonus selfies</h3>
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When we went out for the afternoon, I didn't have any internet access (I wasn't going to pay £1.99 for only 50MB!) so I took a few bonus selfies to show what I'd been doing.</div>
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Here we are outside La Creperie de Paris:</div>
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And here I am enjoying a very nice ice cream:</div>
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Selfie challenge 6: a selfie at church</h3>
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I'm in focus, even if the stage isn't! This was at Hillsong Paris.</div>
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Final photo before boarding the plane</h3>
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My message to say I was on my way to the airport didn't send until I got into the airport's wifi zone, so I sent a selfie from the duty free shop to say that I was stocking up on some treats:</div>
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While I was waiting for my delayed plane, my husband recreated his entire weekend so he could also send me selfies of the how he had spent his time. This included pretending to lift furniture (which had done earlier in the day), pretending to have a conversation with the friend he'd been moving the furniture for (cunningly a photo of only himself) and a photo from the future, of him in the car going to pick me up from the airport.</div>
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Don't worry, as well as sending selfies, I did also buy him a present.</div>
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Here is my Nicholas with his new DVD, <i>Les vacances du Petit Nicolas</i>.</div>
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Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-7946361633022603792015-08-27T21:24:00.000+01:002015-08-27T21:25:58.328+01:00Woodland camping<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<span id="goog_1105712531"></span><span id="goog_1105712532"></span>How can you wake up to that view in the morning and not love camping? My first word on opening the tent was a gruffly "wow". Most of the other campers had packed up and gone, and it was really peaceful.<br />
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This was our first time camping in woodland. As you can see, we had our own little clearing with a fire pit. The individual clearings made each camping spot private, making it feel like we were the only ones there. It also gave us an extra challenge when navigating our way to and from the bathroom in the dark - there were no straight paths and you didn't know if you'd end up in some rough grass or going off in the wrong direction. By the end of the weekend, we'd worked out a good route, though.<br />
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We've been able to do camp fires at the last two places we've camped and we've really enjoyed it. Well, we've enjoyed it once we've got it going. That's something we've learnt - it takes a while to get a fire going, but it's worth it! At home, we just turn on the hob, pop a saucepan on top and we have soup bubbling in just a few minutes. With this camp fire, it took about an hour and a half until we had anything near ready to put a saucepan on! To take the pressure off, we cooked our dinner on the camping stove and just did pudding on the fire. Once the fire got going, it was easy to cook on - the rice pudding heated up really quickly and the toasted marshmallows were lots of fun and absolutely delicious.<br />
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Here's a picture of our teddy bears occupying our new stools by the fire:<br />
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If you look closely you'll see that William has a marshmallow on a fork ready for toasting!<br />
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The next morning was a different story. The rain started just as we snuggled down into the sleeping bag (on the "bouncy castle" - first time using an air bed - what an experience!) and didn't stop... until everything was packed in the car at 11 o'clock the next morning!<br />
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During the night, our tent became a haven for local wildlife. When I put my glasses on, I was able to see how many daddylonglegs-style spiders had taken shelter in the porch. Then I spotted the slug trails. I have now learnt that anything left in the porch of the tent overnight must be properly covered and must not have any possibility of falling over and touching the grass at the edge. It wasn't until later that I actually touched a slug. Before then, we found a beetle trying to get into the food bag:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_LYDlD3gfs6wbg0o_e0NWjNjF6xwHitXBMlsJuTW2DISDdCbxjzJP7Qsqk4xkoVdxqRZYVZQx7RM9CgQxjpCPt_NWOffZ3DxdEC__pUqhSmyMXbvlOgFxmkb0hRuk4_jSFx8VMGsklFV/s1600/20150823_100028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh_LYDlD3gfs6wbg0o_e0NWjNjF6xwHitXBMlsJuTW2DISDdCbxjzJP7Qsqk4xkoVdxqRZYVZQx7RM9CgQxjpCPt_NWOffZ3DxdEC__pUqhSmyMXbvlOgFxmkb0hRuk4_jSFx8VMGsklFV/s320/20150823_100028.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
And this cute frog which had hopped up on top of the mug:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeTGcDKWJOYzMnv4YzTa3t689L0MkuVDN9U22CfZ02hCqryE3UARsduEwTI3PLBdKAB4FqvI7oyxmK68W3t7-6Kh_am_5JbR4GkhFTMwLGLsWSDaZ1zayjhzs_v8DM88mmvZtblA7Ru60w/s1600/20150823_100023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeTGcDKWJOYzMnv4YzTa3t689L0MkuVDN9U22CfZ02hCqryE3UARsduEwTI3PLBdKAB4FqvI7oyxmK68W3t7-6Kh_am_5JbR4GkhFTMwLGLsWSDaZ1zayjhzs_v8DM88mmvZtblA7Ru60w/s320/20150823_100023.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
Frogs move really fast - I only turned away for a second and he was suddenly on the floor next to the mug - I didn't even see him move! Then he hopped away under the log pile and disappeared.<br />
<br />
It was still raining at this point, so we had to come up with a plan of action for how to pack out stuff without getting it wet. This is what we came up with:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>Eat cereal for breakfast, inside the tent.</li>
<li>Put the bowls and spoons in a bag and wash them up when we get home.</li>
<li>Get dressed one at the time. (There isn't room in the sleeping quarters for two of us to be moving around at the same time.)</li>
<li>Deflate the "bouncy castle", and fold it and the sleeping bags up to make space.</li>
<li>Pack each bag inside the tent, being careful not to get clean, dry things dirty or wet.</li>
<li>Evict the spiders as carefully as possible, especially when using the saw to keep them at arm's length.</li>
<li>Try not to touch any slugs. (I failed at this one and it was disgusting.)</li>
<li>Keep smiling.</li>
<li>Put on coat and boots and take the bags to the car.</li>
<li>Don't drive the car into the camping field because it will sink. (It's ok, we realised this before it was too late and left it parked by the entrance.)</li>
<li>Take down the tent and pack it neatly but not <i>properly</i> into a Tesco bag.</li>
<li>Unpeg the groundsheet, fold it up and put it in a plastic bag.</li>
<li>Have a nice day out in Wells.</li>
<li>Put the tent up in the back garden when we get home to dry it out.</li>
</ol>
<div>
I love the adventure of camping. The woodland was a beautiful setting, which gave us great scenery, wood for the fire, and a certain privacy you don't get on bigger sites. Even though we accidentally brought home two slugs and a dead spider, I was sad that this was the last camping trip of the year. I can't wait for camping season to begin again next year!</div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-77979153491348702562014-01-14T16:57:00.000+00:002014-01-14T16:57:42.793+00:00Long hair role modelsI have very long, thick ginger hair, which I like to plait. It's been great that there have recently been many famous young women who have made having long, thick and/or ginger hair and plaits popular. I'm a little concerned by the latest trend, though. Read on to find out more.<br />
<br />
First of all, there was Hermione Granger, who made it OK to have long, frizzy hair. I was able to embrace my unruly locks in the knowledge that Hermione made it cool. However, shortly after filming the last Harry Potter film, Emma Watson cut all her hair off.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www1.pictures.zimbio.com/mp/6YQZXFFfVh1l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://www1.pictures.zimbio.com/mp/6YQZXFFfVh1l.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.zimbio.com/'Harry+Potter'+Stars+Then+and+Now/articles/_6ZtQ_vgrs3/Emma+Watson+Hermione+Granger">http://www.zimbio.com/'Harry+Potter'+Stars+Then+and+Now/articles/_6ZtQ_vgrs3/Emma+Watson+Hermione+Granger</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Then there was Amy Pond, on Doctor Who, who had lovely, long, ginger hair. Finally, someone in the public eye who had naturally ginger hair and wore it well. Then Karen Gillan shaved her head.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://marieclaire.media.ipcdigital.co.uk/11116/000074cfc/f3c7_orh100000w440/Karen-Gillan-32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://marieclaire.media.ipcdigital.co.uk/11116/000074cfc/f3c7_orh100000w440/Karen-Gillan-32.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.marieclaire.co.uk/news/celebrity/543659/doctor-who-star-karen-gillan-reveals-daring-new-do.html#index=1">http://www.marieclaire.co.uk/news/celebrity/543659/doctor-who-star-karen-gillan-reveals-daring-new-do.html#index=1</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Last year, when watching The Voice with friends, we saw that Jessie J had her hair in a herringbone (or fishtail) plait (a style which was also seen on other celebrities at the time). I'd always wanted to do my hair like that but didn't know how. So one of the girls showed me and the group of us spent the rest of the evening plaiting each other's hair. But Jessie J shaved her head for Comic Relief. We weren't copying her hair style when we watched the final of The Voice!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i5.cdnds.net/13/07/450x450/jessiej-nude-silky-jumpsuit-plunging-voice-uk_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://i5.cdnds.net/13/07/450x450/jessiej-nude-silky-jumpsuit-plunging-voice-uk_1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.handbag.com/beauty/news/a457987/hair-envy-jessie-js-fishtail-braid.html">http://www.handbag.com/beauty/news/a457987/hair-envy-jessie-js-fishtail-braid.html</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i4.dailyrecord.co.uk/incoming/article1767436.ece/ALTERNATES/s615/Jesse%20J%20panel-1767436.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://i4.dailyrecord.co.uk/incoming/article1767436.ece/ALTERNATES/s615/Jesse%20J%20panel-1767436.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/news/uk-world-news/comic-relief-raises-record-75m-1767310">http://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/news/uk-world-news/comic-relief-raises-record-75m-1767310</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The Hunger Games books became hugely famous with the release of the first two films. The main character, teenager Katniss Everdeen, is famous for her plaits. In the first book, her stylist is impressed by the plait her mother has done for the Reaping, and copies it when he styles her. Later on, her mother shows the rest of the prep team how to do the plaits. In the films, Katniss's sister Prim also has intricate plaits around her head. I'm not concerned by the fact that Jennifer Lawrence has gone back to her natural colour - in fact, I encourage that. What does concern me, though, is that she, too, has cut all her hair off and gone really short.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.jadabeauty.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/katniss-1024x526.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="164" src="http://www.jadabeauty.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/katniss-1024x526.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.jadabeauty.com/beautybuzz/2013/01/09/katniss-braid-tutorial/">http://www.jadabeauty.com/beautybuzz/2013/01/09/katniss-braid-tutorial/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2013/11/06/article-2487592-193BDD6500000578-307_634x527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2013/11/06/article-2487592-193BDD6500000578-307_634x527.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-2487592/Jennifer-Lawrence-chops-locks-pixie-haircut-tresses-fried-dyeing.html">http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-2487592/Jennifer-Lawrence-chops-locks-pixie-haircut-tresses-fried-dyeing.html</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So, all these wonderful women who made it cool to have long, thick, plaited, ginger hair have now either cut their hair short or shaved their heads. I hope that this trend doesn't continue and that it doesn't become the norm to have ridiculously short hair or none at all.Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-14276080955353712932014-01-14T11:09:00.000+00:002014-01-14T11:09:14.161+00:00Everyday balance of double spacesThere is a theory that there is the right number of apostrophes in the world, that the same number are added erroneously to plurals as are missed out from possessives. I have a theory that the same is true of double spaces. Each time you see double space, take the extra space and insert in between 'every' and 'day' when someone writes 'everyday' instead of 'every day'. It makes me feel better.Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-24277198883156120852013-09-16T14:45:00.000+01:002013-09-16T14:45:00.299+01:00If you want to see the rainbow you have to put up with the rain.For my birthday, I got a t-shirt which says "Sometimes if you want to see the rainbow you have to put up with the rain."<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-p1K44grnMv_P0dycpJX9CQLeobzy-L93ETkZn-PlDj06BWk3hB5C97oCJ0zF3Qg4xkhx8Tk07Rx03-02zCZxkweDKe0rVmgLq0HGNdHgm74WLCZ7DmzV-g1EO1rQB6lUot6hOVeZrGg/s1600/t-shirt.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-p1K44grnMv_P0dycpJX9CQLeobzy-L93ETkZn-PlDj06BWk3hB5C97oCJ0zF3Qg4xkhx8Tk07Rx03-02zCZxkweDKe0rVmgLq0HGNdHgm74WLCZ7DmzV-g1EO1rQB6lUot6hOVeZrGg/s320/t-shirt.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Picture from <a href="http://www.mountainwarehouse.com/womens/tops/womens-t-shirts/sometimes-womens-ss-tee-p7914.aspx?ism=1&cl=NAVY">http://www.mountainwarehouse.com/womens/tops/womens-t-shirts/sometimes-womens-ss-tee-p7914.aspx?ism=1&cl=NAVY</a></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was from my mum, who knows everything I've been through this year.<br />
<br />
Later, I thought about it. I thought, "I've had so much rain this year, I've had a flood." Then I remembered that the first rainbow came after the biggest flood the world has ever known.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
When I bring clouds over the earth and a rainbow appears in them, I will remember my agreement between me and you and every living thing. Floods will never again destroy all life on the earth. (<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis%209%20&version=NCV" target="_blank">Genesis 9:14–15</a>)</blockquote>
Today, I read this:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The existence of the rainbow depends on the conical photoreceptors in your eyes; to animals without cones, the rainbow does not exist. So you don't just look at the rainbow, you create it. This is pretty amazing, especially considering that all the beautiful colours you see represent less than 1% of the electromagnetic spectrum. (<a href="http://themetapicture.com/before-you-judge-others/">http://themetapicture.com/before-you-judge-others/</a>)</blockquote>
It's an amazing gift that we can see rainbows at all, that the tiny amount of light we can see means that after we experience the storm, we get a glimpse of something so beautiful. I know that more rain is coming, but I have the hope of one day seeing the rainbow.Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-48188309026363049162013-08-31T18:43:00.000+01:002013-08-31T18:43:03.520+01:00Flying is happiness. Where are my wings?Last weekend, I had a dream that I lived in a place where everyone had wings and flew around. I didn't have wings. I was treated as inferior because I had to stay on the ground and live on the ground floor, and because I couldn't fly to other places.<br />
<br />
Then I met someone who had developed a new procedure to give someone artificial wings so they could fly. So I had an operation where they attached the wings to my back and gave me a special machine (the size of a handbag) which operated the wings.<br />
<br />
Then I was able to fly with everyone else and I was really happy.Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-69380924524788666472013-08-09T11:47:00.001+01:002013-08-09T11:47:33.785+01:00Home is where the wifi connects automaticallyThey say that "home is where the wifi connects automatically".<br />
<br />
Well, today I am having trouble getting my wifi to connect at home at all. I had to turn the router off and on again, restart the laptop and refresh the list of possible networks to connect to. Finally, it connected. On my phone, I'm having to use 3G, though, because it won't co-operate.<br />
<br />
Interestingly, when I go to Pizza Hut, my phone automatically connects to the wifi in Patisserie Valerie downstairs. Does that mean my home is really the food court?Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-86462296280565951962013-04-08T21:26:00.001+01:002013-04-08T21:26:18.097+01:00The next day (part 8)<br />
<div class="Standard">
When Doctor Phoebus had come back into the room, boiled the
kettle and made coffee, he and Oscar sat down at the desk.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“So, Lady Amelia tells me you’ll be starting training
tomorrow,” Doctor Phoebus said as he set down his mug on the desk and leant
back in his chair.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
Oscar, beside him, nodded. “Yes, that’s what she told me,
too. So what will the training involve?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Well, here, we follow the standard Four School training
programme: Theory, Culture, Physical Training and School Specialism. You’ll
have no trouble with the culture part, of course.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“I won’t?” Oscar replied impulsively. “I mean, no, I won’t,”
he corrected himself, hoping Doctor Phoebus just meant normal, British culture.
He could do normal, British culture: drinking tea (although he had had a lot of
coffee so far), being reserved and afraid to speak up when he didn’t understand
what was going on (and hoping he could keep this up and subtly work out where
he actually was), rooting for the underdog (although that seemed to be himself
at the moment).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
He chuckled along with Doctor Phoebus, then asked, “Can you
tell me more about what you cover in the training programme?” And he added,
“Here?” to make it sound as though he wasn’t a complete novice but merely
enquiring about the methods used as this particular establishment.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Well, Theory mainly covers the history of Friarr. We won’t
make you sit through all of that. You’ll need to go to the classes on the
theory of the Power, though, but you’ll see on your timetable which ones those
are. Physical Training will make you ready for going out on missions and using
the Secret Art of the Breadbin. You’ll need to go to all those sessions. I mean
that,” he said seriously. “You’ll regret it if you don’t. And School Specialism
is where I come in.” Oscar was pleased to hear the cheerier tone back in his
voice. “I’m the Yellow School trainer, so I’ll train you in how to use the
Power of Friarr as a member of the Yellow School.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Right. And what about the culture?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Oh, you’ll just soak up the culture while you’re here. Don’t
worry,” he said conspiratorially, “You can pretty much just carry on as
normal.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“I see,” Oscar replied, doing his best to keep from panicking
about this new training programme he had suddenly been signed up to. He hadn’t
been expecting to be sent back to school. “And how long does the training
programme last?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Until you’re ready.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Until I’m ready for what?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“To go out into the field. I assume that’s what your aim is.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Sure.” That was close enough. His aim was to get out of here
and go home.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Great. Now, have you been issued your Manor Buddy yet?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“I don’t think so. I mean, I came here with Delta. Does she
count?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“No, not that kind of buddy. Not to worry, I’ll print you off
a timetable for now.” Doctor Phoebus pulled the computer keyboard towards him,
typed in a password and searched through some files until he found what he was
looking for. He clicked on print and reached under the desk to retrieve Oscar’s
new timetable.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
The colour-coded grid reminded Oscar very much of his school
timetable, of the joy he’d had at colouring it in on the first day of each
school year, of colouring his favourite lessons yellow and his least favourites
in blue. He was pleased to see that there was no blue on this timetable: Theory
sessions were coloured pink, Yellow School Specialism was – of course – yellow
and Physical Training was orange.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“The grey blocks for Saturday and Sunday morning mean you can
have a lie-in,” Doctor Phoebus explained. “It’s quite a full timetable so
you’ll want to make the most of those mornings off to catch up on your sleep.
Although, like I said, you might not need to go to all of the classes. And
Culture in Sunday afternoon isn’t exactly a class and the activities are all
optional. I’m going to the noodle tasting this Sunday and the first round of
Wild Goose Chase is being shown on the big screen in the hall next weekend.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Right,” Oscar replied. “It’s just that this looks a lot like
a school timetable and I wasn’t really expecting that. I was told I’d be
trained to defend myself because I can’t go home yet, but this is… a lot to
take in.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Doctor Phoebus
tried to console him. “It’s not like you’re at the Glass Plains – now that is a
heavy timetable! But, of course, they really fast-track you through if you’re
based there.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
Oscar sighed and wished someone would explain things to him
properly. He considered asking Doctor Phoebus how he’d explain this place and
Friarr to a complete outsider but didn’t want to sound too weird.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Anyway, enough of this official stuff. Tell me what you’ve
been working on out there in the real world.” Doctor Phoebus said kindly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“I work for a software company,” Oscar said. “In sales at the
moment. I basically meet with clients to tell them about the packages we offer,
in the UK and abroad.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Have you ever been to Canada on your travels?” Doctor
Phoebus interrupted him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“No,” Oscar said, remembering how Delta had asked him the
same thing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Oh, you should definitely go some time. I’ll next be going
in the spring. Only to visit the Glass Plains this time but I’m trying to get
time off to go in the summer and do the tourist thing. Growing up there I never
got to do that, of course. And working here, I don’t get to that in the UK
either. Worst of both worlds somehow.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“So you grew up in Canada?” Oscar asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Yes, started training at the Glass Plains right from the age
of four and youngest to graduate when I was 15.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Congratulations,” seemed to Oscar to be the right thing to
say.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Thanks.” Doctor Phoebus sighed and stared into space for a
moment. “Anyway,” he said, sitting up straight again. “Now you have your
timetable. Let’s see what you’ll be doing tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
They looked at the timetable. Wednesday morning was coloured
in bright orange: <i>Physical Training
Outdoors (with permission)</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Have you got permission for outdoor training?” Doctor
Phoebus asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“I didn’t even know there would be outdoor training. Do I need
permission?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“If you don’t know, you probably don’t have it. Lady Amelia
will have to approve it. I’ll call her now.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
While Doctor Phoebus was on the phone, Oscar looked more
closely at his timetable. Wednesday mornings were outdoor training followed by
History in the afternoon. Yellow School specialist training was on Tuesdays and
Thursdays; there were theory classes all day on Mondays and Fridays were
dedicated to indoor physical training. Saturday afternoons were for outdoor
physical training again, although, from what he could hear of the phone
conversation, this was sounding unlikely.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
To Oscar’s relief, Doctor Phoebus announced that Lady Amelia
had not approved his outdoor training. He hadn’t been looking forward to taking
part in sporting activities outside during winter.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“I won’t reprint your timetable now,” Doctor Phoebus said.
“But it’ll be correct when you get your Manor Buddy. I’ll arrange for it to be
sent up to your room. Which room are you in?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Uh, last night I slept on Delta Foxtrot’s sofa. I doubt I’ll
be staying there.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Oh, right, haha, no, you won’t be staying there. A room will
have been sorted out for you in the Yellow School wing. We’ll go and find it
for you before dinner.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Good,” Oscar said. “And what is the Manor Buddy?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Oh, you haven’t had one before?” Doctor Phoebus asked. Oscar
stared at him blankly. “It’s like a smartphone, only on local frequency so
it’ll only work in and around the Manor. Everyone has one. It has your
timetable on it and you can use it to communicate with anyone in the building:
call, text, you name it. You use it to check in to your classes and you can
share your location so people can join you in the social areas. You’ve really
never had one of these before?” Doctor Phoebus asked again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
Oscar pulled his Android smartphone out of his pocket. “This
is what I have at the moment,” he said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
Doctor Phoebus laughed. “Oh boy! You’re going to have a great
time when you get your Manor Buddy! It’s totally customisable and yours to
keep. Oh, and I think there’s even a map of the building and grounds so you
won’t get lost. Speaking of which, why don’t we go and find your room now?”<o:p></o:p></div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-78129300443338391432013-04-06T14:11:00.000+01:002013-04-06T14:11:02.545+01:00The next day (part 7)<br />
<div class="Standard">
Oscar paid little attention to the journey down to see Doctor
Phoebus. He was too preoccupied with worrying about his parents. He replayed
the exchange with Lady Amelia over and over in his head as the lift descended.
She looked so serious, more and more so the more he imagined her saying the
words “very tragic”. He was relieved when the lift bounced to a stop and the
doors opened, presenting him with something new to look at to take his mind off
things.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
The corridor was quite different to those on the floors he
had already visited. Here the bare bricks were painted a pale yellow, giving
the underground level a cheery feel without being too in-your-face. At the end
of the corridor, Daphne knocked on a door and opened it to reveal a small
office-cum-laboratory. Oscar followed her over the threshold.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Doctor Phoebus?” she called. There was no reply. “Doctor
Phoebus!” she said a little louder. Was it Oscar’s imagination or did she sound
a little exasperated? It was only the second time she’d called his name: she couldn’t
start getting exasperated already.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
This time, however, a man appeared from behind the desk. He
stood up so suddenly that he made Oscar jump. Once he’d recovered himself,
Oscar took in the man as he put down what he’d been holding and crossed the
room to greet Daphne. Oscar looked at what he’d put on the desk: a short cable
and a screwdriver. Oscar watched as the lightly-tanned, long-haired Doctor
Phoebus gave Daphne a friendly hug, exchanged a few pleasantries with her then
extended a hand to Oscar.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“And you must be Oscar,” Doctor Phoebus said with a smile.
Oscar was surprised to hear an American twang in his accent as everything and
everyone had been very English so far.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Yes, Oscar Thornton,” Oscar said as he allowed his hand to
be shaken.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Well, it’s nice to meet you at last,” Doctor Phoebus said
amicably. “Shall we get to work?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
Oscar followed Doctor Phoebus uncertainly over to the desk.
Daphne hovered behind them, then said “I’ll be off then. See you later,” and
walked out the door before either of the men had a chance to respond. Oscar
blinked at the closed door for a couple of seconds, surprised at how rude she
had been, then Doctor Phoebus interrupted his thoughts.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Let me just finish putting this computer together, then I’ll
be a much better host.” Doctor Phoebus muttered something about not having been
given much warning of Oscar’s arrival as he got down on his hands and knees
behind the desk, reached up for the screwdriver and took his computer apart
ready to put in the cable he’d also set on the desk. Oscar didn’t know much
about the insides of computers so he wasn’t sure what he was doing. He stood uncertainly
next to the desk, watching because he thought he should, but not really paying
attention. Again, he wasn’t sure where he was or why, and Doctor Phoebus seemed
to know more about what was going on that he did.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
The office was very tidy despite the rough-and-ready impression
the bare bricks and flagged-stoned floor gave. Books were neatly stacked in
colour-coordinated bookcases; two cups, a cafetière and a kettle had been set
neatly in a row on top of a cabinet Oscar assumed held coffee, sugar and
biscuits; the desk looked worked-at but not messy, with papers spread out next
the computer monitor, keyboard and mouse. Most out of place was the work bench,
which held some kind of science experiment. The apparatus had been set up to
create a clear path-way along the middle of the desk, length-ways; with a
mirror at one end, about the size of a computer screen, and an empty photo
frame at the other. Along the side were some technical instruments and some
everyday objects that would otherwise be out of place in this kind of office: a
football, an iron and small Christmas tree, for example. The workbench wasn’t
much larger than the average desk or dining table so Oscar didn’t think it could
be a very serious experiment.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Just something I’ve been working on in my spare time,”
Doctor Phoebus confirmed when he had stood up again and found Oscar staring curiously
at the experiment. “I thought I’d investigate how different objects are
affected by the power of Friarr.” When he said ‘Friarr’, he did a very curious
movement: he put his arms at his sides, elbows bent so that he hands were at
shoulder height, stuck he hands out flat to the sides, palms down (as Delta had
done on the bus the day before) and stuck one leg briefly out to the side in a
small kick (like when someone’s foot pops when they are kissed in a film). He
did this so matter-of-factly and as though it were part of the word itself that
Oscar was quite taken aback. Doctor Phoebus didn’t seem to notice, though, and
went to fill the kettle from a room leading off the office.<o:p></o:p></div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-56591438310448454222013-03-27T08:18:00.003+00:002013-03-27T08:28:33.532+00:00Read in context (Romans 2)When I woke up this morning, 'Marriage Equality' was trending on Twitter because it is currently being debated in America. There were many links to pictures of people holding up various signs, expressing opinions on both sides of the debate. I saw things like 'Love is love' and 'Jesus had two dads', and signs like 'I wouldn't be here without my Mum AND Dad' and 'God made Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve'. There were, of course, portions of scripture quoted on many signs.<br />
<br />
One which I decided to look up was Romans 1:26–27<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Because people did those things, God left them and let them do the shameful things they wanted to do. Women stopped having natural sex and started having sex with other women. In the same way, men stopped having natural sex and began wanting each other. Men did shameful things with other men, and in their bodies they received the punishment for those wrongs.</blockquote>
This looks like it's pretty clear about God bringing judgement on those who have homosexual relationships. But I wanted to see it in context because I've seen verses taken out of context before (don't get me started on 'The poor will always be among you'!) and didn't want to be falsely judging people.<br />
<br />
So I read the whole of <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+1&version=NCV" target="_blank">Romans 1</a>. As I got to the list in verse 28, I started to worry about how verses 28–32 could be used as a weapon against people. I kept reading.<br />
<br />
<b>All those who use any verses from Romans 1 as a reason for judging people, need to read <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+2&version=NCV" target="_blank">Romans 2</a>.</b> The first sentence is this:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
If you think you can judge others, you are wrong.</blockquote>
It doesn't get much clearer than that, but Paul goes on to explain how people can't judge each other because we are <b>all</b> guilty of sin, and that only God can judge all of us because he is without sin.<br />
<br />
If you ever catch me quoting Romans 1 against someone, hit me over the head with a Bible, open it to Romans 2 and make me read the whole chapter aloud!<br />
<br />
More here: <a href="http://www.jcblog.net/romans/2/195-romans-21-those-who-judge-have-no-excuse" target="_blank">Romans 2:1 – Those Who Judge Have No Excuse</a><br />
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-34748458510223104822013-03-18T23:38:00.001+00:002013-03-18T23:38:41.988+00:00The next day (part 6)<br />
<div class="Standard">
Oscar began by telling Lady Amelia how he had met Delta at
the airport when their flight was rerouted. He told her that they had lunch
together in Munich Airport and that they had come home on Delta’s Uncle Frog’s
plane. He wasn’t sure that he should tell her about Delta using her martial art
on the policemen at the border, or the conversations they’d had about Friarr,
or about being rescued from the interrogation room via the air duct.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“You tell it very well,” Lady Amelia complimented him when he
paused for breath. “Well, very succinctly, at least.” He suspected she knew
those things he had neglected to mention, that Delta had already told her.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“What happened after you landed? When you arrived home?” Lady
Amelia asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“We got in a taxi which took us to my house. But we didn’t
stop there.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Why not?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Because… it was surrounded by police.” Oscar struggled to
say it aloud because he could still hardly believe it was true.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“So Delta brought you here?” Lady Amelia prompted him.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Yes, she told the driver to keep going and not stop. It was
like being in a film. Although at the time it didn’t feel very glamorous. I was
so shaken from parachuting out of a rickety biplane and seeing my house
surrounded. It was very surreal.” As he said this, he looked up to see Lady
Amelia’s reaction. Had he already said they had parachuted down? Maybe he
shouldn’t have called Uncle Frog’s plane rickety. Lady Amelia didn’t seem
concerned though. She simply smiled amusedly and motioned for him to go on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“The next thing I knew, the taxi had stopped and Delta helped
me out of the car. She led me up a hill and across a cobbled square, and up a
lift to her room, where I fell asleep on the sofa.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“I see. Have you told anyone that you’re here? Have you taken
any phone calls?” Lady Amelia asked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“I phoned a colleague this morning to excuse myself for being
late for work,” Oscar recalled. “But he told me the office had burnt down
during the night, that there was just a pile of rubble where it used to be.”
After a pause, Oscar continued. “So I have nowhere to go. I can’t go home
because my house is surrounded. I can’t go to work because it’s not there any
more. I can’t go to my parents because…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Yes, that was very tragic,” Lady Amelia said sensitively.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Tragic? Has something happened to them on holiday? Are they
going to be alright?” Oscar could feel himself panicking. He felt sick. It was
one thing to lose his house and his office, but if the Cotwg were also hurting
people he knew…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Nothing has happened to your parents,” Lady Amelia said
softly. “I didn’t mean to alarm you.” Oscar stared at her, taking deep breaths
to calm himself. “You are right that you can’t return home at the moment. It’s
not safe for you to go out at all because the Cotwg are clearly targeting you. We
will train you to defend yourself against them. Your classes will start
tomorrow morning but I’d like you to meet your trainer this afternoon.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
“Um, OK, thanks,” was what Oscar heard himself say.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
Lady Amelia turned in her chair and called someone over. “Daphne,
could you take Mr Thornton to meet Doctor Phoebus?”<o:p></o:p></div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-38308499992587664252013-03-07T11:32:00.002+00:002013-03-07T11:32:24.506+00:00Patricia St JohnFor World Book Day, I decided to write about one of my favourite authors. As a child, I loved reading Patricia St John's books. From the day I was introduced to Rainbow Garden, I enjoyed everything I read by her. What was wonderful was the way there was always a lesson woven into the story, in a very non-threatening, non-teachery way. I learnt something valuable from each book at the same time as enjoying a great story.<br />
<br />
Here are some of the highlights.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<i>The Mystery of Pheasant Cottage</i></h3>
<div>
This was my favourite book for a long time, because of the twist in the story which I didn't see coming, and still amazes me today. As I flick through it now to find my favourite bits, it's taking all my self control not to just read it all the way through again. When reading this book, I learnt some Spanish, and I learnt about the simplicity of faith: that Jesus is my friend and that he is in my heart.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h3>
<i>Rainbow Garden</i></h3>
<div>
This was the first Patricia St John book I read. I lost count of the number of times I re-read it. It was a wonderful story about a girl growing up in a very different environment to me: she lived with her mother, then moved to the countryside to live with friends while her mother was away working. Whilst living with this family, she learns to make friends and not be selfish. She is introduced to the specialness of Sunday (when they had special toys they didn't play with on other days) and joins her new friend in her Bible reading and prayer times. She, of course, discovers a garden at the end of rainbow one day, which becomes a special place for her. This was a really enjoyable read, a story which opened my mind to different ways of life, to realising that not everyone grows up in the same kind of family as me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h3>
<i>Treasures of the Snow</i></h3>
I read this book while I was beginning to fall in love with learning French: as it is set in the Alps, it includes some French songs. I was also impressed by how much the author knew about life in the Swiss Alps. It is a lovely story of friendship and forgiveness. Along with the main character, Annette, I learnt this from her grandmother about letting God's light into our lives:<br />
<blockquote>
"When you come down in the morning and find this room dark with the shutters closed, do you say to yourself, 'I must chase away the darkness and the shadows first, and <i>then</i> I will open the shutters and let in the sun'? Do you waste time trying to get rid of the dark?" </blockquote>
<blockquote>
"Of course not!" said Annette. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
"How do you get rid of the dark?" </blockquote>
<blockquote>
"Well, I pull back the shutters, of course, and then the light comes in!" </blockquote>
<blockquote>
"But what happens to the dark?" </blockquote>
<blockquote>
"I don't know; it just goes when the light comes in!" </blockquote>
<blockquote>
"That is just what happens when you ask the Lord Jesus to come in," said Grandmother. "He is love, and when he comes in, hatred and selfishness and unkindness will give way to it, just as the darkness gives way when you let in the sunshine. But to try to chase it out alone would be like trying to chase the shadows out of a dark room. It would be a waste of time."</blockquote>
<br />
It's something I keep reminding myself of all these years later.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<i>Where the River Begins</i></h3>
<div>
I remember finding out about this book, going to buy it one day after school and reading the whole thing in about three days, which was quite unlike me at the time. This is a simple little story, shorter and less complicated than the others I'd read before. It's about a boy who runs away from home and is helped by a family he meets by the river. It taught me about helping those in need, as the boy and his new friends help each other. I was also starting to think about writing stories at this time, so I learnt from this book that it's OK to write a short, simple story, and that it doesn't always have to be an epic novel with many twists and turns. I imagine the author thinking up this story and writing the whole thing quite quickly, rather than spending months or years over it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h3>
<i>Twice Freed</i></h3>
<div>
This a very different to her other books as it is set in biblical times. Inspired by the story of the slave boy Onesimus, mentioned in the short New Testament book of <a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Philemon+1&version=NIVUK" target="_blank">Philemon</a>, this book showed me that Bible stories can be exciting if told in the right way. I still like the idea of taking Bible stories and rewriting them in a form which is more accessible, i.e. an interesting-to-read novel. (This has also been done by Francine Rivers in <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Redeeming_Love" target="_blank">Redeeming Love</a></i>, the story of the prophet Hosea, which I read last year, absolutely loved and thoroughly recommend.) Because of the author's careful research and preparation, I learnt a lot about Roman and Greek life through this book, which helped me understand some of the New Testament stories better. <i>Twice Freed</i> shows us how Jesus brings two kinds of freedom: Onesimus is physically freed from slavery, but he is also freed spiritually when Paul introduces him to Jesus. True freedom isn't just about not being a slave and about having freedom of choice. It's also about being free from guilt or a heavy conscience. It's about knowing in your heart that you are free from spiritual evil because of Jesus.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h3>
<i>I Needed a Neighbour</i>, <i>Nothing Else Matters</i> and <i>The Victor</i></h3>
<div>
These three books were written for teenagers rather than children, and were set in places which were harder to identify with, so I don't remember them as well as the others. What I remember liking about <i>The Victor</i>, though, is that again it presented Bible stories from a different point of view. The main character is the boy who offers his lunch at the feeding of the 5000. He keeps hearing about this miracle-working prophet, and eventually his sister is healed by him when he comes to visit their village.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I discovered when I read the introduction to <i>Twice Freed</i> that Patricia St John passed away in 1993. That means I started to read and enjoy her books a few years after she died. I looked in the front of my copy of <i>Rainbow Garden</i> and saw that it was first published when my mum was a teenager, so she would only have been a couple of years older than me when she first read it. Patricia St John has left behind her a legacy of timeless classics which I hope will inspire the next generation of girls to read and write as much as it inspired me.</div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-52436904631851500442013-02-16T20:43:00.001+00:002013-02-16T21:31:16.804+00:00My favourite Psalm<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b>Psalm 139</b></span><br />
<div class="heading passage-class-0" style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 10px;">
<div class="txt-sm" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
New International Version (NIV)</div>
</div>
<div class="passage version-NIV result-text-style-normal text-html " style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<h4 style="margin-top: 1em;">
<span class="text Ps-139-1" style="font-size: x-small; font-weight: normal;">For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.</span></h4>
<div class="poetry" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 2.6em; position: relative;">
<div class="line">
<span class="text Ps-139-1" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">1 </sup>You have searched me,<span style="font-size: 0.65em;"><sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16241A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup></span> <span class="small-caps" style="font-size: 16px; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>,</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-1" style="position: relative;">and you know<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16241B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup> me.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span class="text Ps-139-2" id="en-NIV-16242" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">2 </sup>You know when I sit and when I rise;<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16242C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-2" style="position: relative;">you perceive my thoughts<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16242D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></sup> from afar.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span class="text Ps-139-3" id="en-NIV-16243" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">3 </sup>You discern my going out<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16243E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></sup> and my lying down;</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-3" style="position: relative;">you are familiar with all my ways.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16243F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)"></sup></span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span class="text Ps-139-4" id="en-NIV-16244" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">4 </sup>Before a word is on my tongue</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-4" style="position: relative;">you, <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, know it completely.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16244G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></sup></span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span class="text Ps-139-5" id="en-NIV-16245" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">5 </sup>You hem me in<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16245H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)"></sup> behind and before,</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-5" style="position: relative;">and you lay your hand upon me.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span class="text Ps-139-6" id="en-NIV-16246" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">6 </sup>Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16246I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)"></sup></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px;">
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-6" style="position: relative;">too lofty<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16246J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)"></sup> for me to attain.</span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="poetry top-05" style="font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 2.6em; position: relative;">
<div class="line">
<span class="text Ps-139-7" id="en-NIV-16247" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">7 </sup>Where can I go from your Spirit?</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-7" style="position: relative;">Where can I flee<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16247K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)"></sup> from your presence?</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-8" id="en-NIV-16248" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">8 </sup>If I go up to the heavens,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16248L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></sup> you are there;</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-8" style="position: relative;">if I make my bed<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16248M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)"></sup> in the depths, you are there.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-9" id="en-NIV-16249" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">9 </sup>If I rise on the wings of the dawn,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-9" style="position: relative;">if I settle on the far side of the sea,</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-10" id="en-NIV-16250" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">10 </sup>even there your hand will guide me,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16250N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)"></sup></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-10" style="position: relative;">your right hand<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16250O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)"></sup> will hold me fast.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-11" id="en-NIV-16251" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">11 </sup>If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-11" style="position: relative;">and the light become night around me,”</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-12" id="en-NIV-16252" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">12 </sup>even the darkness will not be dark<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16252P" title="See cross-reference P">P</a>)"></sup> to you;</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-12" style="position: relative;">the night will shine like the day,</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-12" style="position: relative;">for darkness is as light to you.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="poetry top-05" style="font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 2.6em; position: relative;">
<div class="line">
<span class="text Ps-139-13" id="en-NIV-16253" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">13 </sup>For you created my inmost being;<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16253Q" title="See cross-reference Q">Q</a>)"></sup></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-13" style="position: relative;">you knit me together<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16253R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)"></sup> in my mother’s womb.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16253S" title="See cross-reference S">S</a>)"></sup></span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-14" id="en-NIV-16254" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">14 </sup>I praise you<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16254T" title="See cross-reference T">T</a>)"></sup> because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-14" style="position: relative;">your works are wonderful,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16254U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)"></sup></span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-14" style="position: relative;">I know that full well.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-15" id="en-NIV-16255" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">15 </sup>My frame was not hidden from you</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-15" style="position: relative;">when I was made<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16255V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)"></sup> in the secret place,</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-15" style="position: relative;">when I was woven together<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16255W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)"></sup> in the depths of the earth.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16255X" title="See cross-reference X">X</a>)"></sup></span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-16" id="en-NIV-16256" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">16 </sup>Your eyes saw my unformed body;</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-16" style="position: relative;">all the days ordained<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16256Y" title="See cross-reference Y">Y</a>)"></sup> for me were written in your book</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-16" style="position: relative;">before one of them came to be.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-17" id="en-NIV-16257" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">17 </sup>How precious to me are your thoughts,<sup class="footnote" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="[<a href="#fen-NIV-16257a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=psalm%20139&version=NIV#fen-NIV-16257a" style="color: #b37162; text-decoration: initial; vertical-align: top;" title="See footnote a">a</a>]</sup><sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16257Z" title="See cross-reference Z">Z</a>)"></sup> God!<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16257AA" title="See cross-reference AA">AA</a>)"></sup></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-17" style="position: relative;">How vast is the sum of them!</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-18" id="en-NIV-16258" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">18 </sup>Were I to count them,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16258AB" title="See cross-reference AB">AB</a>)"></sup></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-18" style="position: relative;">they would outnumber the grains of sand<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16258AC" title="See cross-reference AC">AC</a>)"></sup>—</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-18" style="position: relative;">when I awake,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16258AD" title="See cross-reference AD">AD</a>)"></sup> I am still with you.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="poetry top-05" style="font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 2.6em; position: relative;">
<div class="line">
<span class="text Ps-139-19" id="en-NIV-16259" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">19 </sup>If only you, God, would slay the wicked!<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16259AE" title="See cross-reference AE">AE</a>)"></sup></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-19" style="position: relative;">Away from me,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16259AF" title="See cross-reference AF">AF</a>)"></sup> you who are bloodthirsty!<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16259AG" title="See cross-reference AG">AG</a>)"></sup></span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-20" id="en-NIV-16260" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">20 </sup>They speak of you with evil intent;</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-20" style="position: relative;">your adversaries<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16260AH" title="See cross-reference AH">AH</a>)"></sup> misuse your name.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16260AI" title="See cross-reference AI">AI</a>)"></sup></span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-21" id="en-NIV-16261" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">21 </sup>Do I not hate those<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16261AJ" title="See cross-reference AJ">AJ</a>)"></sup> who hate you, <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-21" style="position: relative;">and abhor<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16261AK" title="See cross-reference AK">AK</a>)"></sup> those who are in rebellion against you?</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-22" id="en-NIV-16262" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">22 </sup>I have nothing but hatred for them;</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-22" style="position: relative;">I count them my enemies.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16262AL" title="See cross-reference AL">AL</a>)"></sup></span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-23" id="en-NIV-16263" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">23 </sup>Search me,<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16263AM" title="See cross-reference AM">AM</a>)"></sup> God, and know my heart;<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16263AN" title="See cross-reference AN">AN</a>)"></sup></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-23" style="position: relative;">test me and know my anxious thoughts.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Ps-139-24" id="en-NIV-16264" style="position: relative;"><sup class="versenum" style="display: block; font-size: 0.75em; font-weight: bold; left: -4.8em; position: absolute; vertical-align: top;">24 </sup>See if there is any offensive way<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16264AO" title="See cross-reference AO">AO</a>)"></sup> in me,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Ps-139-24" style="position: relative;">and lead me<sup class="crossreference" style="font-size: 0.65em; font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-16264AP" title="See cross-reference AP">AP</a>)"></sup> in the way everlasting.</span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-74224481610665094352013-02-03T18:15:00.000+00:002013-02-03T18:15:23.078+00:00The next day (part 5)<br />
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Come on, let’s go.” Delta stood up and motioned for Oscar to
do likewise. “I’m taking you to Lady Amelia now. She’ll be able to explain
better than me.” And she marched off towards the double doors. Oscar stood
motionless for a moment, until Bristol said, “Go on then!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the lift, Delta pressed the number five. She was quiet,
watching the numbers go up on the screen above the door. When the doors opened
onto another pink corridor, she marched off to the left and Oscar hurried to
keep up. At the end of the corridor, she knocked twice on a dark, wooden door and
waited to hear “Enter” from within before opening the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The lady who was seated behind the desk looked a little taken
aback when she saw Delta and Oscar appear at the door. She had clearly been
writing and had stopped when she looked up, her pen still in her hand, now held
up in the air, her elbow resting on the desk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Delta,” she said politely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Lady Amelia,” Delta said. “This is Oscar Thornton, who I was
telling you about earlier.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“About whom you were telling me,” Lady Amelia said, not
unkindly. Delta gave a slight nod and ushered Oscar forward. Lady Amelia rose,
set down her pen and came out from behind the desk to shake Oscar’s hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Nice to meet you,” Oscar said nervously as he took Lady
Amelia’s hand. It was cool but soft.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Likewise,” Lady Amelia said. “Delta has told me a little
about you, about how you met and why she brought you here. We thought it best
that I explain where you are and what is going on. Delta, will you be joining
us?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Um, no, I have things to be doing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Very well. Oscar?” Lady Amelia indicated two armchairs in
the corner of the room, to the right of the door, a small coffee table between
them and a drinks cabinet behind. Oscar gave a little wave as Delta left, then
joined Lady Amelia in the corner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Would you like a drink?” Lady Amelia asked when Oscar sat
down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Coffee would be nice.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A few moments later a waitress appeared as if from nowhere
with cups and saucers on a tray, along with a coffee pot, sugar bowl and
delicate jug of milk. The crockery was in keeping with the décor of the room:
mostly white but embellished with pale pink roses. It was quite elegant and
suited Lady Amelia very well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“I have much to tell you,” Lady Amelia said when they both
had cups of steaming coffee in front of them. “Why don’t we start, however,
with you telling me what you have experienced over the past 24 hours?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-90754619126423394382013-02-03T00:32:00.000+00:002013-02-03T00:32:05.526+00:00The next day (part 4)<br />
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar’s supremely relaxing bath-time was finally interrupted
by a door slamming and a familiar voice calling, “I’m home!” This was followed, after a few seconds of
silence, with Delta calling “Oscar?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“I’m in the bathroom,” Oscar replied. “I’m in the bath,” he added as the door knob
started to turn. Delta stopped turning the door knob and instead stayed in the
sitting room and spoke to him through the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“It’s time to go down to lunch,” she said. “So get out of the
bath and get yourself dried and dressed. I’ll
be waiting out here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Can I use one of your towels?” Oscar asked as he started to
sit up and get ready to get out of the bath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“My towels? Why don’t you just use the drying room?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“The drying room?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Behind the curtain. It’s a shower but also a drying room.
Make sure you press the right button.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar looked over his shoulder to the curtained-off cubicle.
He shrugged, got out of the bath, put a towel around himself to mop up the
drips, then decided to give the drying room a go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Behind the curtain, he felt very much like he was about to
have a shower. The curtain was drawn, with the towel thrown over the rail. He
stood in the middle, facing the buttons on the left-hand wall. It wasn’t hard:
one said ‘shower’, the other ‘dry’. He reached out and pressed ‘dry’. He felt
immediately warm and cosy. The warm air wasn’t really blowing on him the way it
does from a hand dryer, but he was aware of it being around him. In a matter of
seconds he was completely dry, including his hair. He wrapped the towel around
himself again and collected his wash bag on the way to the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">He tentatively opened the door a crack and peered through.
Delta was sitting on the sofa opposite the bookcase, reading a magazine. He
stepped through the door and crept over to collect his clothes from his
suitcase. Delta didn’t look up as he took his clothes back into the bathroom to
get dressed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Once dressed, Oscar joined Delta in the sitting room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Let’s go then,” Delta said, setting the magazine down on the
coffee table. “I’m starving.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“OK,” Oscar said, and followed her from the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">He realised that he didn’t know what he was going to see on
the other side of the door. He knew the he had come up in a lift and walked a
short distance on soft carpet, but that was all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Through the door, Oscar followed Delta the short few steps to
the lift. As they waited for the lift to come, Oscar looked the other way up the
brightly-lit though windowless corridor. The carpet did indeed look soft – it was
the same as the one in Delta’s sitting room. The short corridor had three other
white doors leading off it, which Oscar assumed led to other rooms like Delta’s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the lift, Delta pressed G for the ground floor and lift
started to move.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Which floor were we on?” Oscar asked, looking at the panel
to see how many numbers there were.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Four,” Delta replied. “Oh yeah, you didn’t see anything last
night, did you?” Oscar smiled at her. “I’d forgotten you haven’t seen any of
the headquarters yet. You are going to love it,” she said decisively.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The ride down to the ground floor was pleasant enough. Oscar
had a quick look at himself in the mirror in the lift, wearing suit trousers
and a shirt without a tie. He hoped he was appropriately dressed. Delta was
still wearing her black dress and white cardigan so he thought his plain white shirt
probably was suitable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The lift doors opened to reveal a pale pink lobby with modern
paintings on the walls. Through a tall window on the left, Oscar saw a small,
paved courtyard, surrounded on all sides by high stone walls. There was a
garden bench down there, and a round table with four chairs around it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Delta led the way to a set of double doors opposite the lift.
She pulled open the right-hand door and held it for Oscar go through first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar blinked and stifled a ‘wow’. This was where she had
lunch? White, linen cloths covered the many tables, around which sat all sorts
of people, some smartly dressed like Delta, others wearing more casual attire.
Above them a sparkling, crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling. Light
also came from the full-height windows which gave magnificent views of a
sloping lawn and glistening lake with trees beyond. There was a grand piano on
the far side of the room; although no-one was playing it, Oscar was still
deeply impressed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Delta touched Oscar’s elbow, whispered, “Shut your mouth,”
and led him over to an empty table. He hadn’t realised he’d be staring
open-mouthed and hoped no-one had been watching him. As soon as they sat down a
waiter in a grey waistcoat set two cake stands on the table: one with three
plates of cakes, the other three plates of sandwiches. Delta thanked him and he
bowed as he moved away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Help yourself,” Delta said as she herself took three
sandwiches with one hand and put them on the plate that was in front of her.
Oscar obeyed and started to eat. He didn’t want to talk about the place or ask
too many questions while there were so many people around so he ate silently.
Delta seemed happy with this – she’d clearly not been lying when she said she
was hungry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The waiters in the grey uniforms moved seamlessly between the
tables, taking away empty plates and bring out more towers of sandwiches and
cakes. Some carried trays of drinks which they distributed to various tables.
Bottles of fruit juice were brought to Delta and Oscar. Delta nodded her thanks
as her mouth was full. Oscar simply smiled, lost for words. The drink was
yellow like orange juice but smoother and sweeter like mango.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The level of chatter was generally quite low, although a
group of young men at a table nearby were talking passionately about a game
they were crowded around a laptop watching their friend play. At a table near
the piano, someone had just taken a guitar case off his back and he sat down to
join his friends, many of whom were trying to persuade him to go and play the
piano. Oscar’s attention was then drawn to two girls who had entered. They both
had long hair down around their shoulders like Delta’s. One wore a knee-length
dress not dissimilar to Delta’s, the other tight jeans with boots and a
loose-fitting, striped jumper. They approached Delta and Oscar’s table.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Delta!” the one in the trousers called, her arms out for a
hug. “When did you get back?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Late last night,” Delta
said as she wiped her mouth on her napkin. She stood up to hug her
friends, then invited them to join her and Oscar for lunch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“How was your trip?” the other friend asked. “What did you
bring me? Apart from this piece of eye candy,” the friend added, nudging Oscar.
Oscar blushed and took a gulp of juice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“This is Oscar,” Delta introduced him. She had sat back down
opposite him. “He was also working in Salzburg. We were on the same flight
coming home yesterday. Oscar, this is Bristol.” She indicated the blonde on her
left, who had just sat down and helped herself to a sandwich from the new stack
the waiter had just brought them. “And this is Cordelia.” Oscar’s new admirer
grinned, waved and seated herself next to him, opposite Bristol.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“So, how come I haven’t seen you around here before?”
Cordelia asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar cleared his throat. “Well, because I haven’t been here
before,” he answered. “I only arrived yesterday.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“I can show you around if you like,” Cordelia suggested.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“No need,” Delta interjected. “He’s going to see Amelia after
lunch.” This was news to Oscar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Lady Amelia?” Cordelia asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Yes,” Delta replied. “I had my debrief this morning and
Oscar’s going to see her this afternoon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Who’s Lady Amelia?” Oscar asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“You don’t know?” Bristol set down her glass and stared at
him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“I only arrived yesterday,” Oscar said defensively. He looked
at Delta for help.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Sorry, I haven’t really seen you to tell you anything yet.
Don’t worry, we’ll soon fill you in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Lady Amelia runs this headquarters,” Cordelia said
helpfully. “She sets the missions and debriefs you afterwards. She’s in charge.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Missions?” Oscar asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“As in when you go somewhere and do something… Delta, I
thought you said you met him on a mission.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Delta blushed. “I met him when I was on a mission. I didn’t
say he was on the mission.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Are you even Friarrn?” Bristol asked, incredulous.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Not so loud!” Delta hissed. “He hasn’t been to see Lady
Amelia yet. He hardly knows anything about Friarr. I’m sure she’ll start his
initiation soon but…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Initiation?” Oscar asked. There were too many new and
slightly scaring words being used for Oscar’s liking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Nothing bad, just telling you what school you’ll be in and
getting you started on your course to learn all about…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Look, Delta,” Oscar said, quietly enough that only those at the
table could hear, but forcefully enough that Delta knew he was serious. “I have
no idea what is going on. You brought me here yesterday when I couldn’t go
home. You blindfolded me so I couldn’t see anything as I came in. All I have seen
is your sitting room and this dining room. Now you’re talking about initiating
me into something called Friarr and sending me on a course. What about the rest
of my life? I have a house and a job and…” he stopped short. He wasn’t sure if
he did have a house or a job any more. “And a family…” He lived alone. “And…”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-15485748158497822542013-01-29T23:22:00.000+00:002013-01-29T23:22:33.309+00:00The sky above the cloudsIt struck me today as I was driving to work under a big, grey rain cloud that one of my favourite places to be is the sky above the clouds. Here is a picture:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNe-BAfzSqYa6Mn-j_fiDgv1uwXSlXonqhLOZjMEJpaKO42foViyKZDfcB5Rbx30WmxrmUjbHxZulljBJaVfIzM-dfw1R4hzroz7iSS1IUyPW05SVfO5V-qVDfSlOWsBUZyqM_s0Z6aD2A/s1600/The+sky+above+the+clouds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="View from the window of a plane" border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNe-BAfzSqYa6Mn-j_fiDgv1uwXSlXonqhLOZjMEJpaKO42foViyKZDfcB5Rbx30WmxrmUjbHxZulljBJaVfIzM-dfw1R4hzroz7iSS1IUyPW05SVfO5V-qVDfSlOWsBUZyqM_s0Z6aD2A/s320/The+sky+above+the+clouds.jpg" title="It's always sunny" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sky above the clouds</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The weather could be doing anything down there but it's always sunny up above the clouds.Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-57891142453088358642013-01-18T22:38:00.000+00:002013-01-18T23:11:30.170+00:00The next day (part 3)<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar picked the correct of the two identical doors which led
from the sitting room, and found himself in a bathroom like none he had seen
before. A large, round bath dominated the room, on a platform in the centre,
with wood panelling around the edge. It had a headrest on one side with a small
screen opposite it, so one could watch television whilst in the tub, he
assumed. The taps were at the side, so that they wouldn’t get in the way of the
bather’s head or feet. As Oscar moved into the room, he turned to the left and
found a stack of neatly-folded, fluffy, white towels on a three-tiered heated towel
rail. He set his wash bag on the floor next to the towel rail, then
straightened up to survey the rest of the room. At the far side was a square
sink, backed by a section of tan-coloured mosaic tiles. Next to this, Oscar
noticed a curtain. Again, he felt a little uncomfortable being so nosey but
this was a very curious place and it intrigued him. He hesitated only a second
longer before navigating his way around the bath to the clean, white curtain on
the other side of the room. The curtain was cleverly hiding… he would first
have described it as a shower cubicle but it was more like wet room, with space
for a family of four to all stand on the wooden slatted mat in the centre. Oscar
correctly guessed that behind the door in the far corner of the room, he would
find the toilet. What he did not guess was that there would also be a sink in
there, a fresh supply of hand towels, a wide selection of soaps and lotions,
and an automatic flush.</span><br />
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This was all a bit too much for poor Oscar, the man who lived
alone in a thirty-year-old house in need of repair. Somehow he came to the
conclusion that the best thing was to have a nice, relaxing bath, where he
could soak away his worries.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As the bath was filling, Oscar experimented with the knobs
and buttons next to the taps. One released scented bubble bath in with the
water. By the time he’d realised what it was, it was too late to stop it so he
accepted the fact that he was now going to have a bubble bath. Once in the
bath, put his head on the cushiony-soft headrest, which was perfectly
positioned to support him as he leant back and stretched out his limbs in the
spacious, circular tub, completely hidden by pretty-smelling bubbles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Standard">
<br /></div>
<div class="Standard">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar tried to rationalise what had happened over the last
twenty-four hours, and what was happening to him now. It was difficult.
Thinking warmer water might help, he sat up a bit to find a temperature
control. The button he stumbled upon did not adjust the temperature but Oscar
lay back as soothing, ethereal music reached his ears. He wasn’t sure where it
was coming from, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything now. He
tried to, but it didn’t work. He tried to think about the journey he should
have had home. He tried to think about his house, surrounded by armed guards.
He tried to think about his office, now a pile of rubble. But he couldn’t. He
even tried to think about how he should probably have called his mother. But
even that didn’t interrupt the heavenly relaxation he was now experiencing.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-53880815961397451432013-01-11T12:44:00.000+00:002013-01-11T12:44:28.920+00:00The next day (part 2)<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Delta
reappeared wearing a smart, black, knee-length dress with a white
cardigan thrown over the top. She'd plonked an alice-band on top of
her hair, which was down around her shoulders. In her arms she
carried a multi-coloured folder bulging with pages.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“I'll
be back before lunch,” she called to Oscar. “Make yourself at
home.” And with that, she stuck her feet into a pair of flip-flops
that were conveniently by the door, and left.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar
sat for a while, not moving, not thinking. Then he got up to make
himself some coffee. On his way to the coffee machine, he caught
sight of his reflection in one of the windows (the one that was
showing a dark street in the snow) and saw that he still had the
blindfold on his head. He pulled it off and tossed it onto the sofa.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Initially
Oscar was disappointed to see the limited choices he was presented
with on the screen on the front of the machine: tea, coffee,
chocolate, fruit, other. <i>Oh well</i>, he thought, <i>better a
generic cup of coffee than nothing at all</i>.
He touched 'coffee'. The other words faded out and the word 'coffee'
moved to the top of the screen. Then an array of further choices
animated their way onto the screen. He could choose not only the type
of drink he wanted – espresso, americano, latte, cappuccino, etc. –
but also the country of origin of the beans, how he wanted the beans
to have been roasted, whether he wanted syrup, how much milk or sugar
he wanted, the temperature he wanted the water to be heated to. The
only button missing was whether he wanted a biscuit for dipping. At
the bottom there was a star and the word 'favourites'. He touched
this to see what Delta had programmed in. 'Skinny latte with a shot
of caramel' was the only option. He winced: that would be far too
sweet! He pressed back and opted for a double-shot black americano
made with heavy roasted beans from Guatemala. That would wake him up.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As
he sipped his drink, he wandered about the room. He was intrigued but
cautious. He didn't know when Delta would be back, only that it would
be before lunch, and he didn't want to be caught nosing around her
belongings.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">He
scanned the bookshelves. There were titles he recognised, like <i>The
Lord of the Rings</i>, <i>Harry
Potter</i>, <i>The
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy</i>,
and some he didn't, like <i>Wooing the White School</i>,
<i>Ready for Red School</i>
and <i>Yearning for Yellow School</i>.
Delta had mentioned something about colours and schools; these books
must be related to that.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In
the corner was a very old-looking mahogany desk, with shiny handles
on the drawers and a leather top. A computer keyboard was on the
desk; behind it sat a computer screen. Oscar peered at it: the
screen, with its mahogany frame, looked as though it were part of the
desk. He reached out and touched the top of it. The screen started to
move: it sank down into the desk and a lid fit itself onto the slot
it had disappeared through, completely hiding it from view. Now there
was just a keyboard looking out of place on an antique desk.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This
desk was the only clear surface. The coffee table, windowsills,
bookshelves and the other desk all had an assortment of items
scattered over them haphazardly: the tablet PC and the mp3 player
Oscar had spotted earlier, a few books, coasters, magazines,
printouts of webpages, a few ornaments. The place certainly looked
'lived in'.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On
the opposite wall from the door out of the apartment were two
windows. One showed the dark, snowy street Oscar had seen his
reflection in; the other a bright, cool day in a large, green park.
Oscar moved closer to the latter. He judged it to be mid-morning by
the height of the sun in the sky. The grassy lawn was about three
storeys below the window, with a path close to the building. There
were a few people walking along paths which led from one side to the
other, round a pond and over to the play area with no children in it.
A man sat on a bench under a tree reading a book. He was wearing a
scarf and hat and gloves so it must have been cold out there.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Through
the other window, the Victorian Christmas-card-like scene looked to
be only one floor below, which made Oscar feel a little
disorientated. He knew to trust the other window because he knew it
was mid-morning and not the middle of the night, but this view did
look very real. He considered opening the window to see what would
happen, but he didn't want to risk getting snow inside.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">His
coffee and tour of the room complete, Oscar sat down once again on
his sofa-cum-bed. He set his mug on the coffee table in front of him,
on a spare coaster between a DVD case and a puzzle book. He checked
his phone: no messages, emails or missed calls. He wondered what to
do with his freedom. <i>Having a shower and changing into
clean clothes might be a good start</i>,
he said to himself. Having just returned from a trip abroad, he
fortunately had a suitcase full of clothes and toiletries to hand.
Being a very organised person, he was fortunate enough to have a
spare change of clean clothes as he always packed extra just in case.
<i>Just in case of what?</i>
he'd sometimes asked himself. <i>Just in case of kidnapping by
young woman and imprisonment in luxury apartment</i>.
He smiled to himself: this certainly was a situation he hadn't banked
on getting into.</span></div>
<br />
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-62310070011824351482013-01-06T18:22:00.000+00:002013-01-06T18:22:24.579+00:00The next day (part 1)<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Oscar
coughed, then heard a shriek. He opened his eyes. All he could see
was a white cushion. He was sleeping on Delta Foxtrot's sofa. He must
have turned over in the night so that he was now facing the cushions.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Urgent
whispering was coming from a short distance away. Oscar closed his
eyes and pretended to still be a asleep while he strained to hear
what was being said.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“But
how did you get him up here?” someone asked.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“In
the lift,” a sleepy voice replied. It was Delta's.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“But
how did you get past security?”</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“We
came in through the shop.”</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“You
know about—”</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Everyone
knows the way in through the shop.”</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
That
must have been the room they'd wound a weaving path through the
previous night, the one that smelt of books and soap. A secret
entrance into... wherever it was they were. Oscar wondered if he
should get up quietly and sneak out. He could leave without anyone
else knowing he'd been here.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“There's
no way he can stay here without anyone finding him,” the unfamiliar
voice said. So that idea was out the window.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Look,
it'll be fine,” Delta said. There was a rustling sound. Perhaps she
was getting out of bed. “I'll speak to Amelia.”</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“That's
<i>Lady</i> Amelia,” the other voice said sternly. She'd forgotten
to whisper: Oscar had heard her loud and clear.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
There
was movement nearby. Oscar kept his eyes shut tight and didn't dare
move. He wished he weren't here.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Oscar?”
Delta said sweetly, suddenly right next to him. Oscar jumped and sat
up, almost falling off the sofa but saving himself just in time.
Fortunately, that gave the impression that he'd just woken up. “Good
morning,” she added.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Uh,
good morning.” He nodded and remained seated.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Delta,”
the other person said from behind Oscar. He turned his head to see
her, which gave him the opportunity to see the room he was in. It
reminded him of a hotel suite from a brochure he'd seen on one of his
business trips. He was in a fairly large and sumptuously decorated
sitting room. The carpet, as he had experienced through only his feet
the night before, looked very fluffy. There were two sofas, both
white, both very squishy. In his sweep across the room as he turned
his head, he caught sight of a widescreen TV, an antique bookcase
which covered one wall (full of books, with a ladder for reaching the
higher shelves) and a state-of-the-art coffee maker in one corner.
The person his eyes met when he finally made it all the way round,
twisting in his seat so he could see, was a nervous-looking maid. She
wore a black dress with white collar and white pinny, and comfortable
black shoes. Her hair was pulled severely back from her face and she
was wringing her hands in front of her. Oscar missed most of her
conversation with Delta whilst reacting to the rest of the room. Was
this really where Delta lived? He glanced up at the ceiling: it was
white with patterns around the walls and a beautiful, golden
centre-piece where the light (almost a chandelier) was fitted. When
he thought about it, the widescreen TV seemed out of place in the
stately-home style décor of the rest of the room. Then he realised
that this wasn't the only technology: screens and devices littered
the many surfaces. The coffee machine in the corner sported a colour
touch-screen; two windows showed different weather, so one must be
screen; a tablet PC and an mp3 player resided on the desk by one of
the windows. Oscar wasn't sure what to make of it all. Delta seemed
to be extremely rich. Why, then, were Delta and the maid talking
about whether he was allowed to be here? And who was Lady Amelia? The
way he saw it, Delta owned this place, the maid worked for her and
Delta could do whatever she wanted.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
When
Oscar tuned in to the conversation again, the maid said, “What I
really came up here for was because you're late for your debrief.”</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Delta
snorted. “But that's not until half past—”</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Half
past nine,” the maid finished her sentence. She still looked very
tense. “I make it...” she checked her watch. “Nine
twenty-nine.”</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“What!”
Delta and Oscar both said at the same time. Oscar dived for his phone
as Delta rushed from the room. The maid threw up her hands then left
by another door.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Oscar
grabbed his phone from his coat pocket and speed-dialled the office,
tapping his leg nervously with his free hand. The line went dead.
That was strange. There were three lines in to the office and an
answer phone. It should connect to something. He tried his direct
line in case there was someone near his desk who could pick it up. It
wasn't the first time the phone line into the office had been
interrupted. One time there had been roadworks outside their building
and a workman had cut through the wrong cable. But there weren't any
roadworks going on at the moment. He opened his contacts and thought
about who to call. Marcus would be best: he did almost the same job
as Oscar so he would understand what the meeting was about but not
have the authority to discipline him for being late today.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Oscar
thanked his lucky stars as the phone started to ring.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Oscar,
what's going on?” Oscar could sense the panic in Marcus's voice.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“I
was hoping you could tell me,” Oscar said. “I haven't been able
to get to work yet and when I rang in the line just went dead. Could
you get a message to—”</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Oscar,
stop talking! The office burnt down.”</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“What?”
Oscar leant back on the sofa, sinking into the impossibly-soft
cushions. “So the meeting...” he trailed off.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Is
off,” Marcus said shortly. “There will be no presentation or
meeting today for sure. We're not sure what happened. All I know is
the building is just a pile of rubble. We're in Costa up the road
waiting for more information. It's crazy, people with laptops and
phones everywhere. Where are you?”</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Oscar
didn't answer straight away. How could he say he didn't know where he
was? That would sound stupid. “My flight was delayed,” he said
truthfully.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Well,
let us know when you're back and we can fill you in.”</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“Thanks,
Marcus. Bye.” Oscar put the phone down next to him and didn't move.
Partly because he couldn't – the sofa was so soft it was going to
take some effort to get up. That wasn't his top priority right now,
though. First his home and now his office. What was he going to lose
next?</div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-20589549236703972422012-12-30T23:35:00.000+00:002012-12-30T23:35:08.676+00:00What a long day (part 14)<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A
second later Delta called out, “Keep driving, don't stop!” and
Oscar's guarded house sailed past the window. Delta handed a card to
the driver, then turned to Oscar.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">“They
weren't police – they were Cotwg. We need to get you somewhere
safe. Tonight you can stay at mine. My flat's not far from here and
you can sleep on the sofa. I don't want you to know where it is,
though, so you'll have to wear this blindfold.”</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar
didn't have time to think about where she had been keeping the
blindfold, or why she had thought to bring it with her or have it
easily accessible, before it was covering his eyes. The driver drove
on, turning left and right, speeding up and slowing down, so much so
that Oscar lost his bearings and wondered whether they had taken a
scenic route for exactly that purpose. Eventually, they stopped and
he heard one of the doors opening.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">“Wait
there a minute,” Delta instructed him. He waited. Then his door
opened, he took off his seatbelt and Delta led him round the car to
the pavement. “I still don't want you to know where we are so
you'll have to hold your suitcase and briefcase with one hand and
hold my hand with the other, and let me lead you.” He heard the
taxi drive away and once again felt vulnerable and powerless to
Delta's will. He was bigger than she was. Why didn't he try to
overpower her? He admitted to himself that it was the curse of being
British: no matter what happened, if something was said with enough
authority, he did as he was told. He wouldn't like it and he'd
complain about it later, but he couldn't do anything else.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Once
the sound of the taxi was gone, Delta spoke quickly and quietly,
“We're going to walk up a slight slope. There'll be a few bumps but
I'll warn you before we get to them. It's dark and it's late so we
shouldn't meet anyone. If we do... Don't worry, we won't.” She gave
his hand a tug and started walking.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar's
steps got more confident the further they walked. If he could see
where he were going, this would probably have been quite a pleasant
walk; it would have felt shorter and less tiring. As it was, he had
no idea how long they would be walking for and didn't know if they
were in a built-up area, in the countryside or anywhere in between.
All he knew was that it was quiet and that he was being led uphill.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Soon
the ground levelled out, they walked down what might have been a ramp,
then Delta stopped. “The gate's locked,” she whispered. “We can
go through the kissing gate, though. Quietly,” she added. She put
his hand on the gate and he pushed it slowly forwards. It swung to
the right, as was expected, he touched it gently to the other side,
then squeezed through the gap with his suitcase, being careful not to
bang it against the fence. Once through, he waited patiently for
Delta to follow. “You'll have to carry your case now,” she
whispered quieter than before. After they'd taken a few steps
forward, he knew why: they were on cobbles. It didn't take them long
to get to the other side of the cobbled area, where they stopped
again. He heard Delta insert a key into a lock and turn a door
handle. He heard her hold her breath as the door creaked a little.
She led him inside and locked the door behind them.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">“You'll
have to be careful, there isn't a lot of room,” she said quietly,
then led him on a winding route across a thin carpet to another door.
The room smelt of new books and soap.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">At
the other side of the room, beep-beep-beep-beep told Oscar that Delta
was entering a code onto a keypad. He felt her lean away from him as
she pushed a heavy door open and held it while he went through. On
the other side of the door it was cold and the floor was harder. It
echoed when he walked. A few steps away, they entered a lift. Oscar
was aware of Delta pressing more than one button, then the lift
started to move. He felt disorientated again as he didn't know if
they were going up or down. He assumed up because they'd entered on
the ground floor, but he wasn't sure if he could trust his logic any
more.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When
the lift had bounced to a stop, the doors opened and Oscar felt warm
air around him as he stepped out. He kept a tight hold on Delta's
hand as she led him across a soft carpet, which conveniently muffled
their footsteps but did make it harder to pull a suitcase. Oscar's
briefcase tapped the top of his leg as he walked but he couldn't do
anything about it because he didn't want to let go of Delta and lose
her.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A
few steps later Delta let him let go of her hand and his luggage, and
let him sit down on the most comfortable sofa ever. He sank into its
cushiony softness as it hugged him comfortingly.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“Can
I take this off now?” he asked, pushing the blindfold up.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“Uh-huh,”
Delta replied. </span></span>
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar
sighed and leaned back on the sofa. It was so comfortable. He blinked
few times, trying to stay awake. Delta said, “Make yourself at
home.”</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar
removed his coat and suit jacket and folded them neatly next to him
on the sofa. He lay down on them and fell asleep. He was glad this
day was over.</span></span></div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-29753137957585961402012-12-28T01:44:00.001+00:002012-12-28T01:44:54.026+00:00What a long day (part 13)<span style="font-family: inherit;">Before
Oscar knew it, the door was open, he was dangerously close to it and
Delta was beginning to lean out. Being attached to her, this meant
that he too was beginning to lean out of the plane. He was powerless.
He uselessly flapped his arms around, perhaps trying to reach the
edge of the gaping hole in the plane, or a cord he could pull or
undo. Maybe it was best that he couldn't reach any of these things
because at that moment, Delta leant even further out of plane, yelled
“Geronimo!” and actually leapt forwards as though she were doing
a giant belly flop.</span><br />
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The
wind rushed past Oscar's face at an alarming rate. It was cold and
whistled in his ears. He closed his eyes to stop them watering. This
also had the benefit of shielding him from the view, something he
wasn't accustomed to seeing in this manner.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">They
were falling through the air for longer than Oscar expected. He kept
his eyes tightly shut and tried to pretend he was on a fairground
ride. That didn't help much as he had little experience of fairground
rides other than being told as a child that he'd be sick if he went
on one after eating. The most exciting thing that happened in his
life now was... well, up to this point it had been when next door's
cat had appeared at his backdoor meowing for milk.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">“Lift
your feet up, we're going to land!” Delta suddenly yelled in
Oscar's ear. “Legs out in front of you like you're sitting up in
bed!” His eyes snapped open and he stuck his legs out as
instructed. He felt Delta pull a little to the left, the ground
rushed towards them and suddenly he was sliding along on his backside
with Delta screaming “Wahoo!” behind him.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar
was grateful to sit for a minute to get his breath back. He felt
disorientated, shaky and full of adrenaline. He looked about him. All
he could see were trees and grass. His hearing felt muffled. Delta
unclipped him and stood up. He steadied himself just in time, then
sat leaning back on his hands.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">“You
can stay there while I fold up the parachute,” Delta said kindly.
Oscar watched the sun set behind the trees.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Once
the parachute and all its paraphernalia were packed up, Oscar
followed Delta to the edge of the field, over a stile, up a lane and
past some houses. They came out on a dual carriageway next to a
cinema and retail park. Oscar was still too dazed to be very aware of
this, though.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">“Come
on, there's a taxi rank up here.” Delta led the way. “You'll be
home in no time.”</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar
was aware of following Delta along the road and into a car park that
had a taxi rank, near a bus stop. He got into the first taxi while the
driver put his suitcase in the boot. Delta joined him in the back of
the taxi.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">“Where
to?” the driver asked.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">“Oscar,
where do you live?” Delta asked. Oscar heard himself reel off his
whole address, then the taxi started to move.</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar
spent the whole journey looking out of the window at the passing cars
and buildings, at the streetlights and the stars. As they got closer
to his home, he began to get his senses back, and to recognise where
he was. Soon they were turning into his street. He felt glad to be
getting home. He was still trying to fit together the pieces of what
had happened today, but the 15-minute taxi ride hadn't been long
enough for that. He squinted out of the taxi window in the direction
of his house.</span></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">“Why
are there policemen outside my house?”</span></div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-61405107572638291162012-12-23T21:24:00.000+00:002012-12-23T21:24:02.174+00:00What a long day (part 12)<span style="font-family: inherit;">When Oscar woke up, it didn't take him long to remember where he was. The plane dipped a little, giving him a funny feeling in his stomach. He rubbed his eyes and looked around him. His suitcase, briefcase and coat had obediently stayed in the corner. Either that or the flight had been smoother than he had been expecting. Delta was sitting cross-legged by the window. She turned round when she heard Oscar moving.</span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">We're going to be landing soon,” she told him. “Do you want to come and see?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar crawled over to the window to look out at the view.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">Blimey, we're a bit low aren't we?” he exclaimed as he looked down at the houses and roads which weren't far enough below them. He could almost see the passengers in the cars speeding along the dual carriageway. He thought for a fleeting second that if it were a little lighter they'd be able to see into the houses as well. After looking at the view for a few minutes, something occurred to Oscar. “That airport I can see doesn't look big enough to be Gatwick or Heathrow,” he said.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">It's Filton,” Delta told him. “Near Bristol. We happened to come this way so Frog thought he'd drop us off here.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">And dropping you off it might be,” Frog called from the cockpit.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">What do you mean?” Oscar asked.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">I'm trying to work out where the runway is but I think they've built houses where it used to be.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">What?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">He thinks they've built houses where the runway used to be,” Delta said patiently.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">They can't do that!” Oscar said. “Where are we supposed to land?”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">Sorry, old chap,” Frog said. “Looks like you'll have to parachute down.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar looked at Delta. <i>Now would be a good time for you to wake me up and tell me this is all a dream</i>, he thought. She smiled as though she'd read his mind.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">Delta, you remember where the parachutes are, don't you?” Frog asked.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">Yes, I'll get them,” Delta replied. She crossed to the front of the cabin and opened a cupboard Oscar hadn't noticed before. Inside were a few small packages – the parachutes. She pulled out two parachutes and a few straps. “Have you parachuted before?” she asked conversationally.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">No,” Oscar replied.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">OK, we'll go tandem then.” She put one parachute away, put the other on, then strapped all their luggage together. Oscar put his coat on and then desperately tried to remember the words of the Lord's prayer whilst he waited for Delta to tell him what to do next. He wasn't in the habit of praying, but this seemed like a good time to start.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">I knew they were talking about closing the airfield,” Frog said as he circled around in search of a good place for them to parachute down. “I didn't realise they'd done it already. There isn't enough room to land a plane with all those houses but you might be able to parachute down and land on the little field that's still there by the Concorde museum. Now, that was a good plane. Shame I never got to fly one. Didn't even get to go in one at all. I mean, having my own plane, why would I? Maybe I should give being a passenger a go sometime, have a go in one of those A380s for the next mission.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar suddenly realised that while Frog had been telling this story Delta had been strapping them together, with their luggage, ready to jump out of the plane.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">OK, I've found you a good spot.” Frog said after a few minutes of more circling. “Delta, I'm going to drop you at Teletubby Hill.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">Teletubby Hill?” Oscar asked.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Delta leant towards to window so he was forced to lean that way too and look out. “See that field with the swirly patterns on it? We call it Teletubby Hill.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Field with landscaped swirly pattern" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtW0KnDbDp3voRXXG1YBFT1rh6mwr1PuWcZDELqDCGpI-R0C50UmeAlIIl2HlXlRjuURHFGzhGtEFDj2FfYFG7qqO5FQXZi4q1FUqUOgz_rgrxb0YxbpCgZma-2VJ0uUjHDaqs9WDrius6/s1600/filton.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Teletubby Hill" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photograph by <a href="http://www.davidgoddard.org/p455376052/ecbb5a19" target="_blank">David Goddard</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/"><span id="goog_1650767852"></span><span id="goog_1650767853"></span></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">It was an overflow field from when the airfield was open. If a plane was going to overshoot the runway or crash, that was one of the designated places to land.”</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">“<span style="color: black;">Lovely,” Oscar said. Could this day get any worse?</span></span></div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-66361737469035830622012-12-16T00:10:00.001+00:002013-01-29T23:45:39.580+00:00English TeachersI have had many English teachers over the years, having studied English up to A Level and then done a degree in linguistics. I have already written a blog post where I complain about <a href="http://carettop.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/the-kangaroo.html?showComment=1352884941991#c5094670068739580097" target="_blank">English teachers who misunderstood my writing</a>; in this post, I will praise the good English teaching I have received.<br />
<br />
In Year 12 (aged 17), <a href="http://www.hltmag.co.uk/may02/sart7.htm" target="_blank">Mr Spiller</a> taught me the subjunctive. For A Level English Language & Literature, we were studying <i>Alice's Adventures in Wonderland</i> – a brilliant choice! One lesson we read this extract:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-family: georgia, times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
‘<em>unimportant</em>, of course, I meant,’ the King hastily said, and went on to himself in an undertone,</div>
<div style="font-family: georgia, times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em;">
‘important—unimportant—unimportant—important—’ as if he were trying which word sounded best.</div>
</blockquote>
Mr Spiller then asked why Carroll had written 'he were' rather than 'he was'. Various answers were suggested:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>"Because of the word 'trying' which follows?" No, 'he <i>was</i> trying' is grammatical English.</li>
<li>"Because of the word 'as' at the beginning?" No, 'as he <i>was</i> trying' is grammatical English.</li>
</ul>
<div>
Eventually someone said, "because of the word 'if'?" Yes, it is because of the word 'if'. Mr Spiller explained that this phenomenon is called the subjunctive and that it is so misunderstood in English that we are hardly taught it at all and not taught it in our French classes until sixth form. This was true: I hadn't yet encountered it in French. However, thanks to Mr Spiller I can now correctly identify and use the subjunctive in English, and also spot when it should have been used.</div>
<br />
<br />
In Year 13 (aged 18), Miss Nelson taught me how to use a semicolon. I was so glad someone had finally explained it clearly! She explained that if you have two separate clauses which function as complete sentences, they can be joined using a semicolon. Here was her example:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I went to the shop; I bought a CD.</blockquote>
To write "I went to the shop, I bought a CD" would be ungrammatical because the two clauses are complete sentences on their own. When a comma is put between them like this it is called a <i>comma splice</i> or a <i>run-on sentence</i>. You could use a comma if you were to make the sentence into a list of three or more items, for example:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I went to the shop, I bought a CD and I went home.</blockquote>
It would also work to insert the word 'and' or to put a full stop instead of the semicolon. Although these alternatives exist, I like that there is the choice of using a semicolon, and I was so glad that I finally understood how to use one properly! I now regularly use semicolons in my own writing. I think carefully about how to punctuate each sentence (whether I am writing fiction, a blog post or an email) and use semicolons where appropriate. Sometimes it isn't appropriate to use a semicolon, for example in informal writing (where an n-dash (–) may be more suitable, or it may be better to put a full stop and start a new sentence). I am so grateful to Miss Nelson for giving this lesson and improving my understanding of punctuation, my passion for the English language and my writing.<br />
<br />
Can you spot my use of the subjunctive in this post? And what do you think about my use of the semicolon?Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1980702049307737477.post-1099202931627129592012-12-08T23:43:00.001+00:002012-12-08T23:44:23.064+00:00What a long day (part 11)<span style="font-family: inherit;">Delta
was settled at the back of the plane, leaning against the wall with
her legs stretched out in front of her, one foot over the other so as
to be decent.</span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: inherit;">“Come
and sit down.” She patted the spot next to her. “If you're not
sitting here before take-off, you'll regret it,” she added.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar
was still kneeling near the door. As the plane sped a long the
runway, he was thrown towards the back of the plane. Delta was right:
he regretted not having already sat down. The regret didn't last long
as, to his surprise, he didn't hurt himself at all but tumbled over
on the cushions, landing sitting up facing Delta.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Delta
giggled and patted the space beside her again. Oscar manoeuvred
himself into position next to her, clumsily because the plane was
still moving at an alarming speed for its condition.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Soon
they were pushed back against the wall as the plane began to lift off
from the runway and climb into the sky. Oscar was utterly terrified.
He couldn't believe he was actually here doing this. He was a
frequent flier, but this had nothing to do with being afraid of
flying. He was afraid of dying. He was afraid of falling out of the
sky because he was sitting in a glorified tin can with Sellotape on
the door and a World War I RAF wannabe in the cockpit. Scenes from
his life started to flash before his eyes. Actually they were mainly
scenes from war films in which plane were shot down or crash landed
and burst into flames. He chanced a look in Delta's direction. She
was nonchalantly picking her nails and peering out of the window.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">They
seemed to climb and twist and turn for ages before levelling out.
When they finally did, Oscar had a bit of a headache. Nothing else
ached because, although they had been thrown around a bit in the
back, the cushions and beanbags had served their purpose and kept
them relatively comfortable. He sat up groggily and leant back against
the wall again. <i>I'm too old for this,</i> he thought grumpily.
Delta, he noticed, seemed perfectly at ease. She was now lying on her
front, propped up on her elbows, playing a game on her phone. He
almost told her she should turn off her phone whilst on a plane, but
he didn't have the energy and was sure she'd say that wasn't true on
Frog's plane.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oscar
risked a glance into the cockpit. To his relief, Frog looked like a
very competent pilot who was concentrating well on the task at hand.
He started to relax a little. In fact, he relaxed so much and was so
comfortable that he drifted off.</span></span></div>
Caret_Tophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01567548534359874525noreply@blogger.com0