Ross Kenneth Gould

i'm getting ready to go home for just under a week. very sadly, my Grandpa Gould died two and a half weeks ago and the memorial service is this coming sunday. it's been a difficult time and has reinforced how much it means to me to get home for good. being far away - knowing that even if you were around there is very little you could do - is a burden at times like these. no amount of real ale or rain can wash that away.

i remember my Grandpa teaching me how to use his typewriter. his office in the basement of their house at 24 rowse crescent - i can still remember the old phone number too - was immaculate. there was also iced tea in the fridge, which was my absolute favourite and mini wheats for breakfast. and then there were the fresh cherry tomatoes that i always went home with in a plastic margarine container. the last time i talked to him, we swapped notes on writing dissertations; the vast difference there is between writing one now and probably seventy years ago.

i do need to get to bed though. it's late, i worked a 12 hour day, have been trying to pack and get organised and dissolved into tears when i was trying to cut my fringe/bangs myself so they'd stop getting in my way. a good night sleep will do me good.