Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Hi honey, I'm home
Jetag withstanding, I'm glad to be home.
Flying has changed since I first flew from London to Baghdad in the 1950s. Then, we were flying on a charter through the oil company my father worked for. I was smaller, so fit into a seat quite easily, and our meals came on china, served with silver tongs by numerous flight attendants. The children were given toys and treats, the adults mementos including beautfully designed menus (listing five-course meals) which my mother still keeps in a chocolate box with other artifacts of those heady days.
These days the seats and smaller than ever (they're squeezing in more seats and rows on most airlines, which may explain why some baggage allowances have shrunk, too!). And if you're lucky enough to get food in something other than styrofoam, breakfast now comes in a box! On Monday's flight from London I had the choice of ten channels of movies and TV shows on the individual screen attached to my seat. Why was I surprised that hardly one channel with anything to keep me awake - I had the same trouble recently when I settled into my hotel room for a night in front of the telly, expecting to find something in the 50 channels worth watching. But I was wrong. Perhaps not surprising since I may be the only person in the world who HATED Forrest Gump - which only proves that I'm a culture snob - I admit.
Anyway, I'm home. My clock is almost re-set - it took me a week to manage to sleept for five hours straight and did not wake up ready to go at 2:12, as I had the first few nights I was home.
It was a great trip - a good combination of travel and visits with relatives. We put 1,000 miles on the car, went from Hadrina's wall in the north to Lewes within sight of the South Coast, talked to writers in Berkshire and Yorkshire, sold a few books, and stayed within budget - just.
And sometime soon, while I sweat it out waiting to hear wether I've got a grant from the Canada Council Grant to continue work on Who Do You Wish Was With Us, I must start getting my own writing muscle back in shape.