¦ dialling in from downstairs ¦
09:26 Monday morning. I've been up since 7 despite an incredible tiredness that has permeated every pore in the fibres of my being...like a warm slighly soporific fluid soaking into a spongey mass. It's quite a pleasant head-space but's doing nothing to dispell the surreal quality of my life right now. Over a year spent writing. Think about it.
I'm tired following an excellent adventure. Friday I got a call from Dan, to say that one of his closest friends Nathan was having a 40th birthday bash at some ancient manor house, out in the sticks. I'd met Nathan twice. Once was back in January on a random night out with Dan; met Nathan and his g/f and struck a real connection with them both, a really lovely moment in time when you encounter new people that you really like, and who like you. So Nathan had asked Dan to invite me to the party. Timing could not have been better. I was riding the jagged front end of several days pushing hard towards the end of Yellow Dawn (2nd ed)... my brain was frazzled and the idea of being away from the city (and my laptop) for 24 hour was delightful. Plus, camping was involved. It was something to look forward too.
Saturday morning I dug into Yellow Dawn. I'm so close to finishing...I just wanted to keep going. At the same time, I can feel fitness levels dropping: i'm ignoring all routines, and other things are just not getting done whilst I channel 110% of my energy into this final stage.
I phoned mum and we resolved the "flare-up" of trouble that resulted from my sister, and my sister's dislike of me using photos of Dad on the website.
Dan rang me at 1.30 pm..."Coming? Want a lift?" I'm glad he did otherwise I might have talked myself into sacrificing yet another fun-thing-to-do in the name of progress and punishing myself with creative deadlines that don't need to be so harsh.
I parked Swampy at Dan's place, and rode with him and his V-dub out to the location. The house would not have been out of place in The Shinning. It was magnificant yet brooding. A vast array of colourful characters stood around the sun-drenched gardens. I sipped Pimms and drifted between clusters of strangers who were all open to a new bod stepping up and saying "hello". It was great. Lovely people. Random moment: One bloke was called David, and lived in Newcastle, in fact, he lived in Jesmond, and took photographs; I was half expecting him to tell me he wrote books too.
I ended up in my tent a some point long beyond midnight... enough beer and wine in my belly to help me sleep. But not enough to keep me asleep when the bird chorus started up at 4...5...? I don't know. I was nice though, to lie there, comfortable in a thick sleeping back and carrymat, rolling over from time to time, drifting in and out of a doze... I thought about Jo a lot and had real big pangs of missing her. Around 7.30 the sun started turning the tent into a humidity box... the smell of body odour mixed with blokey-beer farts became tangible as the air heated-up. I yanked open the tent flap and sat in the cool stream of fresh air for a while. Outside were a collection of vans, and cars with tents beside them. A small dog was chewing on a tennis ball. Birds wheeled around overhead and nothing stirred. I crawled out the tent and made my way through expansive gardens to the house. There must have been 40 people sleeping in there and yet there wasn't a sign of anybody, or a single sound. I made a mug of tea and sat outside for a bit. Read a bit. Made more tea. Helped Nathan clear up bottles and beer cans for an hour or so, then grabbed a ride back with a couple who were heading into Bristol; they were great actually, a really fun pair of people... I would have suggested getting a coffee with them or something but my brain was telling me I'd actually not had much sleep, I needed a bath, and I had a game of Yellow Dawn happening in an hour. They dropped me off at Dan's (I'd left Dan crashed out asleep in his V-dub parked next to where I had pitched my tent) - I drove Swampy back home and had that lovely feeling you get when you know you can just...relax. For a small time at least. Food. Bath. Prepare for Yellow Dawn.
Excellent game session, and probably the last to take place with the rules "still-in-development". Next time we get together Yellow Dawn should be finished, and a hardcopy should be sitting on the table with us. *fingers crossed* Had a new player start: a guy called Mark, or a Goth-On-Crutches as he calls himself. I had my usual jitters...the same as I had with Hagen, and then Kevin...but again there was no need to worry; he's a fabulousplayer, slotted right into the group and added a new colour.
Everyone left around 7pm. I shuffled over to the take-away with my eyes half closed. I threw blankets over my body on the sofa; chowed down, slumped into blissful langour, and watched TV until I fell asleep sometime after "Trading Places".
Djr