I’ve turned my sights on the other side, what might be called the bad guys. Oddly what was going through my mind was the old Hollywood maxim that bad guys wear black, and as I was writing their introduction to the story, I had two if them definitely dressed in black.
It also speaks of dark times that are coming, and might easily be mistaken, at the beginning, of just another storm front that heralds the cold and bitter winter.
And it also sows the seeds of what causes a certain event that invokes a period of upheaval in the realm, and those that are major players at the outset, and some who find themselves thrust unwillingly into fray later on.
There will be other events before we get down to the main story.
As for the logistics, todays word total is 2,028, for a total so far of 13,106 words. Progress is being made, but today was a little difficult.
The nights are cool, now, as we head towards summer where we’re expecting it to be a lot warmer. But, for now, the conditions are much easier than if it was in the morning.
My granddaughters favourite event is the high jump. It is by and large the most interesting of all, where where the 19 competitors each take three turns to achieve a height, and as it goes up, the numbers get less.
It starts at about 75 cms, and goes up in 5 cm increments. It can, and sometimes does. The last time the highest jump was 115 cm, and my granddaughter reached 110 cm, and only just missed 115 cm. Next time.
Her second favourite event is the hurdles, perhaps because it’s jumping, and is quite good at it, not knocking over any hurdles. There’s the 70 meters, 80 meters, and 100 meters. She did the 80 meters in under 19 seconds which is a personal best. I imagine she’ll get faster.
Next in line is the long jump, and yes, it’s jumping, but there’s a trick to it, you have to get your foot inside the board, not over it m and she has trouble not overstepping. But, she had three jumps, and got it right on the final attempt
Then we have the discus. It’s an interesting event, and there are so many different styles. Some do it really well, most probably need a lot more training, but get a throw out there. Several this time sprayed it, and every time there’s a few near misses. We all know now to keep your your eyes on it. We have two outside the white line, and one good throw, and it’s a personal best.
In between events we get to a little stargazing, and usually watch the moon rising, and then use an app called Sky Map to locate the planets. And then, since I’ve just updated my smartphone to a Galaxy 20 note, just the average one, so I can try and take some better night photos, and one is at the top of this post.
There was an 800 meter event, and she did well, even though so early in the season fitness is an issue and in such an event it takes a toll. Previously she has done a 1,500 meter race and that was a trial more than an event, and it was good in a sense that it highlighted the fact she needs to do some training.
It ends this week at a reasonable hour, and we all go home.
Next week is another week, and the opportunity to improve. What I like about this for of competition is that the focus is not on who came first or last, but the fact you may have improved, ie, a new personal best.
It’s a great concept that gets rids of the winners and losers, and makes the athletes all winners, and know that getting better is within their grasp.
Progress is good, at least we’re heading in the right direction.
It’s curious what you think about when you’re creating characters, and then breathe life into them.
Like Marigold, who is loosely based around my eldest granddaughter, who likes to toss a bit of inspiration into the mix. She wants Marigold to be a vain, annoying, abrupt so and so, much like what she calls the rich kids who have too much time and money on their hands, and a deep contempt for the plebs as she calls them.
Royalty, much like movie stars, well some anyway, are demanding, greedy, and difficult. Well, that’s Marigold from the start. It doesn’t mean she won’t learn a few life lessons soon enough, but she will be the proverbial fish out of water.
Ophelia is a lot different, the explorer type, not exactly Dora the explorer, but my middle granddaughter liked the idea of her being a scientist, or in those days of yore, an alchemist, though back in those days people often though of those type of people as witches or worse.
Then there’s James, who had his story charted today, the Prince who would be king, one day, He has an enormous responsibility on his shoulders, an the burden of having to meet expectations that he believes are far beyond his capabilities. He’s 18, needs to become a knight, and a leader, and sooner rather than later.
His biggest enemy is his fear of failure.
Well, there it sits for the moment. We have more characters, but the real story is about to begin, and the children of the crown are about to be tested.
The boring stuff: A total of 2,794 words were written today, some joyfully others with difficulty, for a running total of 11,078.
With a head start last night which gave me the inspiration to write this section, I was able to finish it off and get it down.
Actually, I’m quite pleased with myself in that regard, but disappointed in the fact I didn’t get time to work on the next part before tomorrow.
Too many other distractions, like elections in other countries, though I’m still wondering why it had any interest for me.
One thing that has surprised me is the lengths some people will go to trash another candidate, and that, to me, is scraping the bottom of the barrel. Surely there’s another way to make a point, like point out all the problems that will happen with policy decisions, or the fact there are no policies.
Anyway, the next few days will be in the news, no doubt.
Thank heaven we don’t have any of that nonsense here. We just call both leaders and the politicians idiots, and vote for the one whose policy aligns with our views, and let them get on with their boozy lunches, affairs, and childlike spats in the parliamentary chambers, and hope, eventually, something gets done.
Just in case you were wondering, today’s word count is 2,480, for a total so far of 8,284 words.
A relationship, a bad day, a friendship, a long, monotonous lecture, and dinner.
It’s basically the light at the end of the tunnel, when it’s not the 6:32 express from Clapton, entering the other end of that same tunnel.
You could go over the top, which means, in one sense, over and above the expected, or way beyond the expected but not in a good way.
You could go over the waterfall in a leaky boat. Not advisable, but sometimes a possibility, if someone fails to tell you at the end of the rapids there is a waterfall. Just make sure it’s not the same as Niagara falls.
Still, someone has gone over Niagara in a barrel.
Then we could say that my lodging is over the garage, which simply means someone built it on top of the garage.
Branches of trees quite ofter grow over the roofs of houses, until a severe storm brings them down and suddenly they are in your house, no longer over it.
You can have editorial control over a newspaper
In a fight, the combatants are equally trying to shout over the top of each other
And sometimes, when trying to paint a different picture to what is real, you could say the temperature is sometimes over 40 degrees centigrade when you know for a fact it is usually 56 degrees centigrade. No need for the literal truth here or no one will come.
Then you could say I came over land, assuming that you took a car, or walked when in actual fact you came by plane. And yes, the whole flight was, truthfully, over land.
I don’t accept my lot in fife, nor do I want a small lot on which to build my mansion!
But the oddest use of the word over is when we describe, in cricket, the delivery of 6 balls.
I’ve listened to cricket commentary, and aside from trying to pronounce the names of the players, if you were unfamiliar with the game, being told this ball was outside leg stump, one of several deliveries, the last of which was the end of the over. If the delivery hit the stumps, it is then a wicket, and the batsman is out.
I had to go to the hospital with my other half for an appointment with the doctor in the fracture clinic as she has a fracture in one of the tips of her fingers. Nasty and painful.
But….
As with any hospital when they say your appointment is a ten am, when you sit down the sign on the wall says that a wait of up to two hours is possible, just in case any emergencies turn up.
So, time on my hands, it’s a perfect opportunity to write. Especially after she is sent to X-Ray, and kind of disappears. A tenuous text connnection keeps me informed of the wait time, and apparently the loss of her ticket to get the X-Ray, but staff are tracking it down.
Meanwhile back in the fracture clinic…
The story is going well, far better than I thought it would, and by the time she returns from X-Ray, an hour and a half has passed and I’ve got 1,200 odd words written.
I should come down here every day and write!
When I get home I transfer the words to the main book file and then meld it into the text already there, make some alterations to accommodate the new plot line, and presto, 1,746 words are done for the day for a total of 3,928 words so far.
I’m on target, but, as everyone knows, targets are there to be shot down, and I’m just hoping mine won’t, for a while anyway.
Yes, I see the lighthouse, what’s it doing all the way out there? The thing is, these places are sometimes so remote, I start thinking I should rent one for 6 months and then, without any distractions, I’ll get the blasted book finished.
Until there’s a shipwreck, of course!
Light is of course light, duh. Turn on the switch and let there be light.
Hang on, didn’t someone else say that, millennia ago? Someone famous? It’s on the tip of my tongue.
No! It’s not cyanide…
So, whilst we need it to see everything, it has another meaning…
My, that’s a light load your carrying today, which means not very heavy.
Or, that’s a light-coloured jumper, which means pale.
Oh, and did you light the fire?
And, after you light the fire, do you light out to a safe haven in light traffic because really it was arson, and you got a light sentence the last time enabling you to do it again.
If you are trying to rob someone, then it was a kilo light.
And after a long hard struggle, did you light upon the correct answer?
This is not to be confused with another similar word, lite.
It seems this is only used for describing low-calorie drinks and food, such as lite beer, which seems to me to be a lazy way of not using light
Still, there’s not much other use of the word except as a suffix -lite, but then you’d have to mention -lyte as well.
The message here – just use the damn word light and be done with it.
We have been to Paris a number of times over the years.
The last time we visited Paris we brought the two eldest grandchildren. We took the Eurostar train from St Pancras station direct to Disneyland, then took the free bus from the station to the hotel. The train station was directly outside Disneyland.
We stayed at the Dream Castle Hotel, rather than Disneyland itself as it was a cheaper option and we had a family room that was quite large and breakfast was included every morning. Then it was a matter of getting the free bus to Disneyland.
We spent three days, time which seem to pass far too quickly, and we didn’t get to see everything. They did, however, find the time to buy two princess dresses, and then spent the rest of the time playing dress-ups whenever they could.
In Paris, we stayed at the Crown Plaza at Republique Square.
We took the children to the Eiffel Tower where the fries, and the carousel at the bottom of the tower, seemed to be more memorable than the tower itself. The day we visited, the third level was closed. The day was cold and windy so that probably accounted for the less than memorable visit. To give you some idea of conditions, it was the shortest queue to get in I’ve ever seen.
We traveled on the Metro where it was pointed out to me that the trains actually ran on rubber tires, something I had not noticed before. It was a first for both children to travel on a double-decker train.
The same day, we went to the Louvre.
Here, it was cold, wet and windy while we waited, Once inside we took the girls to the Mona Lisa, and after a walk up and down a considerable numkber of stairs, one said, “and we walked all this way to see this small painting”.
It quickly became obvious their idea of paintings were the much larger ones hanging in other galleries.
We also took them to the Arc de Triomphe.
We passed, and for some reason had to go into, the Disney shop, which I’m still wondering why after spending a small fortune at Disneyland itself.
Next on the tour list was the Opera House.
where one of the children thought she saw the ghost and refused to travel in one of the elevators. At least it was quite amazing inside with the marble, staircases, and paintings on the roof.
Sadly, I don’t think they were all that interested in architecture, but at the Opera House, they did actually get to see some ballet stars from the Russian Bolshoi ballet company practicing. As we were leaving the next day we could not go and see a performance.
Last but not least was Notre Dame with its gargoyles and imp[osing architecture.
All in all, traveling with children and experiencing Paris through their eyes made it a more memorable experience.
The first we visited Paris was at the end of a whirlwind bus tour, seven countries in seven days or something like that. It was a relief to get to Paris and stay two nights if only to catch our breath.
I remember three events from that tour, the visit to the Eiffel Tower, the tour of the night lights, not that we were able to take much in from the inside of the bus, and the farewell dinner in one of the tour guides specially selected restaurants. The food and atmosphere were incredible. It was also notable for introducing us to a crepe restaurant in Montmartre, another of the tour guide’s favorite places.
On that trip to Paris, we also spent an afternoon exploring the Palace of Versailles.
The next time we visited Paris we flew in from London. OK, it was a short flight, but it took all day. From the hotel to the airport, the wait at the airport, departure, flying through time zones, arrival at Charles De Gaulle airport, now there’s an experience, and waiting for a transfer that never arrived, but that’s another story.
I can’t remember where we stayed the first time, it was somewhere out in the suburbs, but the second time we stayed at the Hilton near both the Eiffel Tower and the Australian Embassy, notable only because the concierge was dating an Australian girl working in the Embassy. That was our ticket for special treatment, which at times you need to get around in Paris.
It was the year before 2000 and the Eiffel Tower was covered in lights, and every hour or so it looked like a bubbling bottle of champagne. It was the first time we went to Level 3 of the Tower, and it was well worth it. The previous tour only included Level 2. This time we were acquainted with the fries available on the second level, and down below under the tower.
This time we acquainted ourselves with the Metro, the underground railway system, to navigate our way around to the various tourist spots, such as Notre Dame de Paris, The Louvre, Sacre-Coeur Basilica, and Les Invalides, and, of course, the trip to the crepe restaurant.
We also went to the Louvre for the express purpose of seeing the Mona Lisa, and I came away slightly disappointed. I had thought it to be a much larger painting. We then went to see the statue of Venus de Milo and spent some time trying to get a photo of it without stray visitors walking in front of us. Aside from that, we spent the rest of the day looking at the vast number of paintings, and Egyptian artifacts in the Museum.
We also visited the Opera House which was architecturally magnificent.
The third time we visited Paris we took our daughter, who was on her first international holiday. This time we stayed in a quaint Parisian hotel called Hotel Claude Bernard Saint Germain, (43 Rue Des Ecoles, Paris, 75005, France), recommended to us by a relation who’d stayed there the year before. It was small, and the elevator could only fit two people or one person and a suitcase. Our rooms were on the 4th floor, so climbing the stairs with luggage was out of the question.
It included breakfast and wifi, and it was quite reasonable for the four days we stayed there.
It was close to everything you could want, down the hill to the railway station, and a square where on some days there was a market, and for those days when we were hungry after a day’s exploring, a baguette shop where rolls and salad were very inexpensive and very delicious.
To our daughter we appeared to be experienced travelers, going on the Metro, visiting the Louvre, going, yes once again, to the crepe restaurant and the Basilica at Montmartre, Notre Dame, and this time by boat to the Eiffel Tower. We were going to do a boat rode on the Seine the last time but ran out of time.
We have some magnificent photos of the Tower from the boat.
Lunch on one of the days was at a restaurant not far from the Arc de Triomphe, where our daughter had a bucket of mussels. I was not as daring and had a hamburger and fries. Then we went to the center of the Arch and watched the traffic.
Our first time in Paris the bus driver got into the roundabout just to show us the dangers of driving in an unpredictable situation where drivers seem to take huge risks to get out at their exit. Needless to say, we survived that experience, though we did make a number of circuits.
This year, I will not be necessarily starting from scratch though it will feel like it.
Since my eldest grand daughter was about 5, now nearly twelve years ago, I’ve been promising a YA chapter book about a princess, based on her.
She seemed to like the idea of being a royal pain in the neck, which is what I said she would be in the book, but, by the end of her adventure, she will have transitioned from spoilt brat to a woman worthy of becoming a Queen.
A long time ago, when my wife was in hospital having an operation, my daughter who is also the editor and mother to said princess, and the princess herself were sitting around in the hospital room waiting for my wife to return from radiology, and decided to come up with the quest said princess had to go on.
Thus, over the next hour, we came up with a lot of different ways to make her ‘suffer’, ten in fact, because at the end of each ‘trial’ she had to collect a magic stone, ten altogether, which had to be arranged correctly to fulfil the prophesy.
And, of course, save the realm from destruction.
Yes, there’s always some sort of world threatening calamity behind every quest.
And since then, she had become unofficially Princess Marigold, and the title hovering between The Dark Horse and The Legend of The Dark Horse. Or maybe, when it’s finished, something else.
Over the twelve years I have been writing bits and pieces, and in the last month been putting it together in a single file, as well as a synopsis, and, God forbid, a plan, which I found quite by accident, and we must have put together on a forgettable day in 2015. That’s the date on the file.
So, come November, it’s back to it, and hopefully it will be done by her 18th birthday, in September next year.
At least now, she had grown so much, that she will be able to dress up as the princess, and feature on the front cover!
And, as each day passes, I will trying to keep everyone informed of my progress.
This was one of the more interesting experiences for the grandchildren as they were, as all young girls are, interested in ballet.
We thoroughly enjoyed our visit which included some time watching ballet practice.
I could not convince anyone to take the elevator back down to the ground floor as it was suspected we might be ‘attacked’ by the ‘phantom’. Certainly, the elevator was very old and I think at the time it was being repaired.
Part of the Grand Staircase in Palais Garnier Opera de Paris
The ceiling above the main staircase. The ceiling above the staircase was painted by Isidore Pils to depict The Triumph of Apollo, The Enchantment of Music Deploying its Charms, Minerva Fighting Brutality Watched by the Gods of Olympus, and The City of Paris Receiving the Plan of the New Opéra.
The ceiling of Chagall at the Palais Garnier
On 23 September 1964, the new ceiling of the Opéra Garnier was inaugurated with great pomp. It was painted by Marc Chagall at the request of André Malraux
Amphitheatre and Orchestra Pit entrance
Interior, and doorways to boxes
Box seats in the auditorium
Ornate ceilings and columns
Seating inside the auditorium
The day we were leaving Paris, was the first night of the Bolshoi Ballet. My two granddaughters were greatly disappointed at missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime, to see the Bolshoi Ballet at the Paris Opera House.
