Its nice here. We are staying in a cottage just north of Littleport selected simply on the basis I didn't need to pay for the whole week in order to stay for a few days and it was available. However it is very pleasant. Its called crooked cottage (accurately so) and is quite old although I couldn't tell you how old. The one disadvantage is that it is right next to the A10 but the steady flow of traffic and occasional shake of the house are actually quite peaceful if you don't focus on them.
I had hoped to do a bit of work on my music or one of my other projects while I was here but the concerns of house location and the forthcoming move have drained every creative thought from my mind. Instead I have been catching up on some reading. Nicholson Bakers Double Fold is written with all the attention to detail of his wonderful The mezzanine. His discovery that libraries across the USA and UK are converting old newspapers and books into microfilm using a destructive process sends him on a crusade. The sad thing is non of the people he talks about or comes across where trying to do anything other than what they saw was the best thing for preserving the nations books and papers. The road to hell truly is paved with good intentions.
My Bryson season continues apace with Mother Tongue and Notes from a Small Island. Mother Tongue is a travelogue of the English language form its origins to its quirks and ubiquity. Full of offbeat facts and written with humour and sensitivity if you have any liking for language at all this is a must read. Notes from a Small Island is truly a pleasure. Full of laugh out loud moments (the start of chapter two had me laughing so much I couldn't read through the tears) it gives the pleasure of seeing your own country through the eyes of a foreigner who has been here long enough to understand why its like it is. Great stuff.
Tomorrow is the great trek back up North again. I've been driving up and down the country rather a lot of late and its becoming a bit of a bore. The only good thing about the whole drive is the M6 Toll road which is just a joy to drive down for the bargain price of £2. Talking of driving: on the way down, just before crossing the M1 I found myself in the fast lane being followed far two closely by another car. I pulled in as soon it was safely possible to do so and casually made a rude gesture at the passing car. After all there is nothing to be gained by driving that closely and much to be lost. To my amazemnt the other driver reacated like a spoilt child. He slowed down and started acting in a way that seemed as if he was really really upset. I slowed right down and let him get it out of his system. He was actually waving (rather pathetically) out of the windows. Eventually he sped off. Now perhaps I shouldn't have made the gesture but it astonishes me that there are people in life like that. He seemd so upset by the action that I can only assume that he was deeply insecure and the lack of validaiton from even a passing stranger was enough to tip him over the edge. Of course I get the last laugh because I undoubtedly spoilt his entire day whereas he just gave me a vaguely puzzling anecdote. How people like this can cope with life (especially well enough to buy an expensive car) is beyond me.
Posted by Mark at May 13, 2004 03:54 PM