Someone I spoke to during the summer ‘knew’ where Janet Smyth was heading after leaving her job organising the Edinburgh International Book Festival’s children’s programme. We were both sorry to see her go, but you kind of accept that people need to move on, and our loss is someone else’s gain, and all that.
But it now seems that this ‘knowledge’ was incorrect, because Janet is about to start a similar role to her Edinburgh one in Bath. Which is very good news for Bath. I even feel a bit jealous that she’s going to live there. At least I assume she is. The commute from Scotland would be tough.
Janet is not the only one, though, as she will be working with Fritha Lindqvist, whom I’ve been in contact with over the years in her role as publicist, both in publishing houses and freelance. So that’s another pair of good hands for this book festival (that I’ve still not managed to visit).
I don’t like change. (Except, obviously, when I demand it…) But this sounds very promising.
I’m just as surprised every time. I board the plane – yes, I know one shouldn’t; sorry, Greta – and I have my book handy, and I intend to read. And if it’s then the late plane, as it often is, it’s dark and they turn off the lights.
Yes, OK, one can turn on the little reading light above. Except, I don’t have the arms for it. I imagine they shrunk, because I know I could do it once.
So what to do? Ask the neighbour if they’d mind reaching up for me? Call the flight attendant and ask them to, as though I need a servant? Or I sleep instead.
I suppose, if I could teach my memory to remember, I could turn the light on before I sit down? But then I can’t change my mind.
And speaking of sleeping; most people that late do seem to snooze more than any of the other things they might do. Last time my neighbour switched her light on long enough for her to see to pay for her bottle of Prosecco, and then off again, for some cosy drinking in the dark.
That’s it, really. If I get that light to shine, would I be inconveniencing everyone else? If they want to sleep or otherwise relax, does a neighbouring light disturb? Is it as bad as when the tall chap in front of you leans back in his seat, depriving you of what little space you had left to breathe?
I’m thinking about this now, since everyone in the family is currently flying or did yesterday and/or will tomorrow. It’s only me here. And I am intending to disobey Greta very soon. Only because the cost and the time for the alternative became such an obstacle that I nearly had a melt-down.