Keep writing, old school memories and a lose end

6 August 2013

All the writing mags and 'how to' books on writing seem to say that it is essential to keep writing, it doesn't matter what you write, just write!  That's OK of course but what happens if what you are writing makes no sense at all, not even to yourself and even worse, you know that's what is happening?  That's pretty much how I have been feeling the last few days.  Even now I'm struggling to find something to add to this that might make sense.  So it's with relief that a dream I had last night has just come back into my head.

At school we were a mixed bunch of kids.  One girl however was a pretty much 'plain Jane', in fact she was just that, a girl called Jane who did look very plain indeed.  At the time I lived in Arley, a mining village, about 5 miles outside of Dorktown  and had to catch a bus to get in to school.  Thankfully the bus was pretty much on time every day and I arrived in school on time; actually I was early by anything up to 20 minutes.  However, this Plain Jane was normally late every day.  One teacher made the comment that it was strange that I could get in to school on time every day while she couldn't even though she lived only around 300 yards from the school gate.  The comment upset not only Plain Jane but also a large group of the class who was annoyed that an 'outsider', me was being publicly prised while a local kid was being put down.  The upset only lasted a couple of days though and didn't really have any effects on the class dynamics with the different groups within it sticking together.

It was a dream about Plain Jane that I had last night that has just come to mind.  Don't ask me why, I have no idea.  Basically we had met up by accident some years after school and had got on well, so much so that we were looking to get married.  Oh heck - what a thought!  The alarm clock saved me - thankfully!

In truth though, I doubt if did meet up again, I wouldn't recognised her at all.  The only two lads from school I do remember were Alan Cartwright and Bob Pickering, mainly because I have meet up with them a number tomes over the years.  The only other one I've met since school is a girl called Carol.  I was leaving Aldi with Jan when this lady asked if I was Ron Clark.  "Yes I am," I replied, "but you have the better of me because I have no idea who you are." She told me her name and I was fairly shocked to see her.  At school I remember her as being tall and slim.  That day she was only my height but was still fairly slim.  I've met up with her once more since then as she was coming out of WH Smiths.  Again I didn't recognise her.  Ah well ... ... ...

Today I shall be heading into town on my scooter for a few hours.  Jan has gone out for the day and that leaves me a bit of lose end.  I'm sure I will find something to spend my time on.  Maybe even getting more photos of the town.  And speaking of photos  ... 

part of a water feature in Darlington town centre.

Funny time ...

Two boys were walking home from Sunday school after hearing a strong preaching on the devil.
One said to the other, 'What do you think about all this Satan stuff?'
The other boy replied, 'Well, you know how Santa Claus turned out. It's probably just your Dad.'