The Little Birds Fly

Down to the Calico Sea

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I am aware that many of my postings are rather depressing, but it can be difficult to see a way forward sometimes.  It doesn't help that the sewer has collapsed in parts all down our road and that we are boxed in the house with a lot of drilling and digging going on from Cornwall Highways - with absolutely no warning as it was an emergency.  The noise is fearful, thinks have fell off of shelves and plaster is crumbling.  There is NOTHING we can do about it, either.

Re my degree - I have not been aware that suddenly not only do I have to do a PP (nearly finished), but also an annotated bibliography - which is news to me.  Once again, I am expected to grab crumbs of info that the rest of the year know about, but the satellite colleges are left in the dark about.  There is a lot left to the idea that the third year entrance will suddenly pick up what you are talking about - whan it seems plain that even the current third years have absolutely no idea about this.  Think it is part of the portfolio (of which you are marked), but still feels like Plymouth's age old problem of NOT COMMUNICATING WITH IT'S STUDENTS!!!!

Migraine two days on the trot and the road works MAY be moving down the road tomorrow.  Rant over - looking down back of sofa for lost mojo.

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Just wondering if you know the writings of Diana Athill?

I haven't before you mentioned her, but on further research, she sounds fascinating. Thank you for the tip off xx

Thanks! She still lives. Why not go meet her!

I am feeling quite fragile, too, just now: worried about my elderly father's health; worried about the political situation; worrying about my job (which is about to end). I have been getting a lot of benefit from attending a post-diagnostic group for adult female autists, though – just being with other people to whom I don't need to explain myself; my own tribe, with whom I can relax. I've also been taking refuge in favourite fandoms. That's what my North Tower is: a refuge in my imagination, derived from a favourite book, alongside a beloved (and very Aspie) character.

I understand how you feel - I had both parents die within 5 weeks of each other and facing very difficult financial straits at the time. My form of Inner North Tower is a peaceful teashop that I went to in Shang Hai. Sometimes, I locate that inner space to get away from stressful factors.

At the moment, it is the bone-shaking 8am start of the diggers and drillers outside my humble abode, alongside other crashing and banging that brings me down. I can only leave the building via the backdoor (which thankfully backs on a right-of-way path), which makes me feel hemmed in. That and next door, not content with the cacophony out front, is also drilling and buzz-sawing. They also spent an infuriating 30 minutes continually squaking large lumps of polystyrene.

For someone with sharp hearing, I am climbing the walls!!!

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