I’ve been meaning to get serious about writing again for a while, and regularly updating this site has been a step in that process. Now comes the next step: inspired by a challenge that Mre B set herself successfully last year where she set out to write a short story every day.
In a moment of enthusiasm I said if she was successful, I would match that goal this year, story for story with her. So here we are. Just as well I was planning to do it anyway.
I’m not making any commitments about story length or style – we’ll just see how they come along, won’t that be exciting?
They’re gone round the roundabout three times before they had to concede that the signs and layout kept changing.
At first they’d thought it was just a trick of the light, or a mistake by their satnav. The latter excuse was possible because the display seemed to have switched to Sanskrit and was spinning round as fast as they were.
Road names seemed to change on each circuit, and the driver was sure that even the angle of exit had changed for some of the roads between sightings. The change in the number of lanes was more confusing, confounding even basic attempts to count the number of exits.
Seasoned town developers as they were, they simply couldn’t work out why it just wasn’t making any sense. They’d designed these roads and housing estates with meticulous care, especially with all the complaints and investigations that the local population had raised in the enquiry.
The new estate had been put together in the usual way, although there had been problems with supply deliveries going astray more often than they were used to. In the end though, dogged determination and fierce penalty clauses had won the day and construction had been completed
To this day though, there always seemed to be unusual congestion of traffic in the area, far more than had ever been modelled. Everyone just seemed to get incredibly confused by the layouts, saying it was worse than Milton Keynes for its roundabouts.
The developers had decided to get together to try and see for themselves what the problem was. That was how they came to be in this situation.
On the fifteenth go round the roundabout they conceded that perhaps building a roundabout on the site of the Rollright Stones had been a bad idea…
We don’t normally go out on New Year’s Eve, but that’s usually down to a lack of planning rather than desire. This year though, we had a message from the Charleesi, inviting us out with the ex-Lady M down The Plough.
We headed out, suddenly realising that this would be our first ever New Year’s Eve out anywhere. It felt somewhat daunting, but I’m not exactly sure why. It can’t have been the company or the place, but nevertheless it felt decidedly odd. Perhaps it was just the change in routine.
As it was, it was a lovely evening. The Charleesi covered her mother in lemonade, fireworks were detonated, and loud people were loud without being too obnoxious.
I also chatted a lot with various people online between conversations – and so laid plans to see various people, plotted story ideas, arranged to see films, and generally set up the next few weeks of shenanigans.
I also renewed contact with a friend I’ve not heard from for a while, and we discussed in passing some of the oddities of my life. He contended that this change in routine was a good target for the year to come, and should be an aspiration for continuing to shake things up. It took only a small while to convince him that plans were already afoot to keep shaking things up – and that was before we got on to domestic arrangements.
A good start to the year, and a reminder to embrace changes in routine and live as awesome a life as possible. I may have lost track of that until recently.