Life :)

Family - Life :) - Music - Scrabble

The game is rigged (and a health update)

December 24, 2025 by 0 Comments

Firstly, Dad sent me a video entitled How to Get Rich. It’s a must-watch. The game of accumulating wealth is increasingly rigged against young people (and even not-so-young people) unless they happen to have rich parents. And upsettingly (and “coincidentally”), people’s self-worth became synonymous with wealth in the eighties, just when the rigging clicked into overdrive. My solution to the rigged game was to walk off the pitch entirely, and I say that as as someone who does have well-off parents, if not exactly rich ones. Honestly I gave up chasing wealth in my late twenties, well before I even thought about living anywhere near Romania.

I spoke to Dad on Sunday night (Monday morning over there). Mum happened to be at the supermarket. Dad looked terrible. He felt dizzy and spoke of an attack of some sort, less than an hour before we spoke and just before Mum went out. His symptoms sounded akin to a mini stroke. While we were talking, Mum came home looking as happy as Larry. She asked me why I looked so worried. Dad later emailed me to say that he and Mum had managed to go for a walk, which was good to hear, and other than that he’d spent the rest of the day working on a painting in the studio. Mum, for her part, hasn’t been great either.

I’ve been on a go-slow today. I just felt so tired. Yesterday I only had a single two-hour lesson and then had a Christmas dinner of sorts in Dumbrăvița with Mark and his wife. Our last one – they’re moving back to the UK, probably in June. Mark, who (unlike his wife) enjoys cooking, made a risotto, while I brought over both my leftover cottage pie and a salată de boeuf I’d made earlier in the day. We had some interesting conversation, a lot of it (inevitably) about teaching because we all do so much of it. Mark’s wife at one point commented that eating out in Romania has got so much more expensive, saying she’d recently been out for sushi with one of the other teachers; it cost the equivalent of £80 each. What?! I said that I’d never spent eighty quid on a meal out in my life, which was certainly no lie. Unexpectedly, the three of us ended up playing Texas Hold ’em poker. Mark busted out early, then his wife won heads-up against me. Really I just wanted to get home by that point.

Scrabble. I’m back playing the Romanian guy again. He says he wants me to play real-life Scrabble. There’s a tournament in Cluj (which is where he lives) in February. Just weeks away. Playing serious Scrabble over the board would be a pretty nerve-wracking experience for me. Top players don’t just put down words, they also do admin stuff like tile-tracking so they can later figure out the endgame, which is something I’ve never done because when you play online that’s all done for you. Plus I might just be too busy for something like that. I’ll have to think about it. Overall I haven’t done badly in the league this time around. I had two surprise narrow victories (by ten and five points) which have certainly helped me.

I never mentioned the Bondi Beach shooting that happened last week, killing at least 15 people including a ten-year-old girl. I stayed at Bondi Beach in 2000, a few weeks before the Olympics, while my parents were living in Cairns. I think of Australia as being a safe haven of sorts, but it’s just as vulnerable to terror attacks as anywhere else; there have been a number in the last decade or so.

I heard that Chris Rea has died. He’s most famous for Driving Home for Christmas which is an excellent Christmas song, though I really like his Road to Hell and especially Auberge.

We’re losing pop and rock stars at a rate of knots now. It’s hard to believe that nearly ten years have passed since David Bowie died. Lately my go-to song has been his Sound and Vision.

Tomorrow will be my cleaning-up day.

Cat - Films - Life :)

The absence of people

December 22, 2025 by 0 Comments

I’m absolutely desperate right now to not see anybody. Gagging for the total absence of people, and as such, to recharge my batteries. From the 27th to the 31st I might have one or two online lessons, but apart from that I will not see anyone over that period.

I get about 95% of my recommended daily human contact from work alone. I hardly need anything else. Dorothy invited me to church today. Not just the service, but also lunch afterwards. That meant I had to make something. There would be people of all nationalities, so people had to bring something from their home country. I made something British – a cottage pie. As I was making it last night, I felt exhausted. Making sure I have all the ingredients, buying those few ingredients I didn’t have, then making the pie which nobody was going to bloody eat (let’s face it), then going to the service and the lunch and getting there and back – all in all it was nearly six hours. Six hours that I’ll never get back. During the service itself, I felt pretty out of place. And very tired. I ended up next to a large man who told me his first two names were Cristian and Emanuel. Very Christmassy, I said. “If there’s anything in Romanian you don’t understand, let me know.” “I’m sure I’ll manage.” Eventually we came to the sermon which of course was in Romanian. (At 80-something minutes, the service was shorter than I expected.) The moment the sermon ended, Cristian Emanuel asked me in English, “So what were the three truths?” Oh god, you’re literally testing me?! Don’t you realise that I’m simply going through the motions here? The food bit wasn’t so bad, but I was still dying to get away. The Australian woman was there. She’s virtually my age and incredibly now has a three-month-old son. We talked about Antipodean expressions. She brought a pavlova which was very good. It reminded me of all my Kiwi Christmases. (Well, Mum made a lot of pavlovas even when we were still all in the UK.) A young woman from Ethiopia showed me how to type in Amharic on her phone. They have an alphabet (or really a syllabary) that works rather like Japanese hiragana but with far more symbols (over 200), presumably because the language has a larger inventory of sounds than Japanese.

I got away. Earlier this evening there was the English conversation club which meant yet more talking. Yesterday the 17-year-old girl wanted her third maths lesson of the week with me. I was seeing Matei at ten, then I had lunch with the tennis people at one, so I agreed to meet her at four. I got back home with a few minutes to spare and the bell went immediately while I was having a pee. Oh jeez, give time to have a pee will you, and preferably make a cup of tea and feed Kitty too.

Water, a two-year-old cat and a laptop really don’t mix, as I found out on Friday morning, ten minutes before I was due to start a lesson. Kitty jumped up and knocked a glass of water, mostly over me and the sofa, but a small amount went over the laptop keyboard. I wiped the keyboard – surely it’ll be fine – and quickly got changed, then bugger. This keyboard really isn’t working. For a while the digits were stuck, then M gave me H and G gave me V and the space bar wasn’t working properly. It still isn’t quite right now. The forward and down arrows aren’t working, and neither are some of the keys on the numerical keypad, but at least all the normal keys (if you like) are fine. Maybe those other keys will come right after I next shut down. I have no idea how any of the circuitry, or what have you, works. What a pain though, and for a while on Friday I was worried I’d have a keyboard that was completely out of action – a huge problem when my work relies so heavily on it.

Scrabble. The latest round of the league started on Thursday. It’s tough. My opponents are just too good. They’ve played proper tournaments – nationals and even world championships in some cases. The top divisions feature a world-class line-up. Last time I was fortunate to eke out enough games to escape the bottom five, but this time I don’t think I’ll be so lucky. As well as the Romanian again, there’s a New Zealander in my division this time – she’s from Palmerston North – as well as some Australians.

On Friday I went with Dorothy to Cinema Timiș to see The Yellow Tie, a film all about the Romanian conductor Silviu Celibidache. A brilliant film, and I realised how lucky we now are to have these proper cinemas in the city that don’t necessitate going to the mall. The acoustics were great, which for that sort of film you absolutely need. And at just 25 lei, it’s frankly a steal.

This flat is a complete mess. Christmas Eve will probably be my tidying-up day. I’ve got nothing planned for Christmas Day. On Boxing Day there’s something going on at Dorothy’s place. Then after that all I’ve got planned is a whole load of not seeing people.

Family - Life :) - Maths teaching

Well that’s a relief…

November 20, 2025 by 0 Comments

I had a good night’s sleep last night. I had an easier than average work day yesterday. And I still feel absolutely shattered.

Last night I met up with Mark at Casa Bunicii in Dumbrăvița. We both had spätzle which Mark had had before but was totally new to me. Spätzle are a kind of German egg noodles; mine were topped with minced beef in tomato sauce, so the dish was very much like bog-standard spaghetti bolognese. Very good though. We both drove there so neither of us could drink anything. Hopefully next time we go there, if there is a next time, we’ll be on our bikes. I say if there is a next time because Mark won’t be in Romania much longer. He and his wife are heading back to the UK. They may stick it out until the summer, but his wife has just applied for a deputy head position at a school in Cardiff; she’d start in three months’ time. Saying goodbye to Mark isn’t going to be much fun.

When I got back from Dumbrăvița I called my parents. Good news. Dad just happened to be closest to the phone when it rang, and he unilaterally accepted the offer of £245,000. A straight accept, no halfway house or anything. I don’t blame him. The risk of having the sale fall through is simply too great. Lately Mum has been attending an exercise class on Thursdays. This meant Mum had to leave in the middle of our chat, so I got the chance to talk to Dad alone. He said that for the past two days he’d had to deal with a permanently angry Mum. Angry with him, mostly. During these spells, which are all too frequent, Mum becomes practically impossible to live with. As I’ve said to Dad before, 80% of blokes wouldn’t put up with it as he does.

Braytim, that slightly weird name for a suburb of Timișoara that I was keen to avoid that I mentioned in my last post, is in fact the name of the Romanian–French construction company that built the development in the nineties. So it isn’t quite as new as I thought. The Bray part of the name comes from Saint-Jean-de-Braye, which is a place in France, while tim obviously comes from Timișoara. There are names ending in (or beginning with) tim everywhere here. I once thought about setting up a teaching company called Verbatim.

I had an interesting maths lesson yesterday with a 12-year-old girl. For a while we went off-topic. At one point I mentioned car loans, saying that they’re generally a terrible idea. She wondered why. They give you ages to pay it off, right? If you take out a car loan for €10,000, I said, how much would you have to pay back? Well, €10,000, of course. No, it might be more like €15,000. Whatever the figure, it’s a lot more than the original price. This is the sort of thing they should be teaching you in maths classes at school. Well of course they’re not going to teach us that! That’s life stuff, and you don’t get taught life stuff at school. Gosh, sadly you’re absolutely positively right on that point, aren’t you?

Family - Life :) - Music - Romania - Scrabble - The UK

Delta plans?

November 3, 2025 by 0 Comments

It’s 23 degrees right now: very warm for early November. I’ve just got back from Buziaș, one of my favourite towns in the vicinity. There were a lot of families milling around, taking advantage of the weather and crunchy golden-brown blanket of fallen leaves. With the ornate covered walkway too, it was quite a lovely setting. I realise I went there exactly 52 weeks ago, just before the US election, when there was still hope that it wouldn’t go, well, how I expected it to. Although Buziaș is great, the initial section of the road that takes you there – a deeply depressing stroad – is anything but.

Before Buziaș I spoke to my parents. Dad had crashed his plane that morning – it was a total write-off. On Wednesday night I managed to get Dad on his own as Mum had gone off on a golf trip. (During my summer, when their 9am is my midnight, that opportunity basically never arises.) First, it’s great that Mum is back playing golf again. Her stomach problems – which still aren’t resolved – had pretty much forced her to stay away from the course. During our long chat, Dad and I inevitably talked about Mum. I asked him for strategies to avoid falling out with her the next time I see her. It’s a real concern. One thing I thought of is humour. Mum has a pretty good sense of humour, and in the past when Dad (or I) has cracked a simple joke, that’s helped to take the sting out of things. Mum has fallen out (again) with her brother over Trump. My uncle is a fan of his. He has little to occupy himself and his unhealthy diet of sport and Fox News combats his boredom. I would have fallen out with him too.

Mum and Dad have finished watching Joanna Lumley’s Danube, a series on TV. They thoroughly enjoyed it, unsurprisingly because Joanna Lumley is great. I could have seen it here too on BBC, but I didn’t know about it; I’ll see if I can find it online. The last couple of episodes were in Romania; the Danube skirts around the country, then forms a delta – a veritable wonderland – before going out into the Black Sea. Having watched the series, my parents are keen to do a boat trip through the delta (if and) when they come here next year. That would be fantastic but would require considerable planning because it’s a long way from me and it’s vital that stress is kept to a minimum. I did a lesson on the delta some time ago.

Last weekend I met Dorothy at Scârț where they had a market of sorts. I picked up a record – produced in 1974 – full of Balinese gamelan music. The record was made in Italy, has a price in Deutsche marks on the front, and has ended up in Romania. It’s been around a bit, in other words. It’s great to listen to; it brings back memories of my childhood trips to Bali, especially the first trip. All the wonderful smells come flooding back too. Visiting in ’74 though, that would have really been something.

My university friend – it was his birthday yesterday – is currently in Morocco, joining his girlfriend’s parents there. It’s his first time out of Europe. His photos are brilliant. Lately I’ve complained of the saminess of modern travel; there’s nothing samey about those pictures, that’s for sure.

My microwave, which was in the flat when I moved in, had packed in (I’d got used to doing my porridge in the pan), so on Friday I got a new one from down the road. It seems wasteful, doesn’t it? Shouldn’t these things be repaired? These days it’s hardly worth the effort. I found one with two simple dials and nothing digital, which is what I wanted. In fact there were two like that; I got the larger, more powerful one because the price difference between the two was small. (It cost me 410 lei, or roughly £70 or NZ$160.) The woman at the checkout insisted that I purchase an extended warranty but I stubbornly refused. I know those things are a waste of money. When I got it home I opened the box, as you do, then removed the polystyrene packaging, as you do, then oh shit, the glass turntable which was hidden inside one of the chunks of polystyrene crashed to the floor into a thousand pieces. Kitty, you stay away. Fortunately the glass plate from the old microwave slotted in perfectly. (Good job I got the bigger one then.) I probably should have been more careful, but don’t they play-test these things? Loosely packing a glass plate inside polystyrene seems beyond nuts.

I played four games of Scrabble on Thursday night and another four yesterday. Both times I won two and lost two. Gamelan is valid, and a useful high-probability word. It’s good to know because it doesn’t follow the expected patterns of a word containing those letters. Naturally I’d want to put ng or age or man together when anagramming those seven letters, but gamelan doesn’t do anything like that.

In news very local to where I grew up, there was a stabbing last night on a train near Huntingdon station, a train I’ve been on dozens of times. Eleven people were injured, two of whom are currently in a life-threatening condition. Two men have now been arrested. It’s eerie to see the pictures of the familiar station with police cordons.

A busy day in store tomorrow. I’ve got the Romanian lesson starting at 8am, then a trip to the supermarket, then I’ll try and contact the woman with publishing contacts from years ago (no harm in trying), then I’ve got five English lessons finishing at 9:30.

Cat - Family - Life :) - Scrabble

Spelling it out

October 24, 2025 by 0 Comments

It’s a dark, dank, windy Friday here. Tomorrow night the clocks will go back, meaning any final summery vestiges will be officially gone. I got up later than usual this morning; I woke up in the middle of the night and went into the living room where Kitty was being particularly affectionate. In fact, she’s chosen to clamber and walk over me, blocking the screen, as I attempt to write this. She’s purring loudly. This is all a far cry from when I first got her. Back then, she was unfriendly at best and positively evil at worst.

On Tuesday night I talked to my brother about his ambitious golden wedding plans for Mum and Dad, even including a blessing at the church. When I told him what I thought, he said I was being overly negative. “I’m not annoyed with you, but I just won’t talk about it anymore.” Actually, you are annoyed with me. I wouldn’t want to fall out with him over something like this. (Normally if he and our parents disagree on something, I end up siding with him, but not this time.) Thankfully we moved on from the subject and reminisced about our childhood Guy Fawkes nights. Yesterday I talked to Mum and Dad. It was pretty clear what they thought of the golden wedding business. Nice in theory, but wholly impractical. And I said to my brother, what even is negative about a simple meal with just the immediate family? Dad even said that after travelling halfway around the world, it would be another bloody thing that we could do without. That’s assuming they come at all.

Dad has been renewing his passport. He got an email back from the British authorities with a name change form attached. Huh? He’d misspelt his middle name on the application form. He’s also been trying to get a new gravestone made up for his mother’s grave in Wales. When the stonemason was about to get to work, Dad realised (or more likely Mum did) that he’d misspelt his mum’s name. He’s almost certainly dyslexic, though kids weren’t diagnosed back in his day. Thirty years later, my brother was diagnosed as having dyslexia, but wasn’t given much in the way of help. Yep, you’re dyslexic, now deal with it. Things have moved on since then.

Loosely on that theme, I had some annoying cancellations yesterday, though they allowed me to play Scrabble last night. It was a good session for me: five wins out of six. The first game was the tightest. I’d built up a healthy lead, but with the bag empty my opponent had great tiles including a blank. He (or she) would clearly find a bingo to end the game. I made a low-scoring play to offload as many of my tiles as possible – not a bad idea sometimes, but here there was higher-scoring play I should have made, even though it kept more tiles. It was easy to spot and I had plenty of time, so there were no mitigating factors. After my opponent went out with a 77-point bingo, I scraped home by five points. I noticed he could have scored 82 with a common word, leading to a draw, so I was lucky to still win after my blunder. In the second game I lurched from one crappy rack to the next and unsurprisingly lost, but then I won the next four games. One play of note from my side was the opening move of UMIAK. I’d learnt a few useful Q words including UMIAQ which is a boat used by Eskimos. It has an anagram of MAQUI which is a kind of shrub (with edible berries) found in Argentina and Chile. I was happy to remember that UMIAQ could also be (and is more commonly) spelt with a final K instead of the Q. (The dictionary tells me that there are seven valid spellings: OOMIAC, OOMIACK, OOMIAK, UMIAC, UMIACK, UMIAK and UMIAQ. How you’re ever supposed to remember this stuff, I have no idea.)

On Monday there was a huge outage that knocked out a whole load of Amazon services. Whenever I hear about such things, my initial thought is great. (I don’t use Amazon. Not intentionally, anyway.) I’d love to see the whole rotting tech edifice, dominated by five or six behemoths, come crashing down. The only sad thing about the episode, and it is a big one, is that it took out the payment system for Amazon staff at the same time.

It’s a light day today with just three lessons. Tomorrow I hope to catch up with Dorothy who has just got back from a trip to Greece, and also Mark. Maybe I’ll play squash with him on Sunday.

Family - Life :) - Photos

Golden no-go

October 21, 2025 by 0 Comments

At the weekend my brother messaged me about Mum and Dad’s upcoming golden wedding. It’s under six months away, on April 10th. He thought we should make a big thing of it in St Ives. But there are all kinds of reasons why that just ain’t gonna happen. For one, it’s unlikely they’ll be over in April. Heck, they might not be over at all. Then there just aren’t the people anymore. Most of the guests at Mum and Dad’s wedding are no longer even alive. It’s been half a century! There’s practically no family even. Simply put, it wouldn’t fly. Literally: Mum’s aging relatives in New Zealand are hardly going to make the trip for it. I think my brother still has fond memories of Mum’s parents’ golden wedding in 1989 when we just happened to be in New Zealand. And why not? It was quite the family occasion. All seven children and 18 grandchildren were present; there were uncles, aunts, cousins, you name it. Temuka was pretty much taken over by it. Stuff happened in the church, at St Joseph’s Hall, and best of all at the Tea Pot Inn (three words) where the fifty-odd (maybe more) of us had a celebratory meal.

On Saturday I had my usual maths session with Matei. He told me he’d been offered a university place at Bremen in Germany, assuming he gets the grades. Exciting for him. When he’s flown the nest, his parents will move Bucharest where they lived until 2016 when they moved to Timișoara for work. So after nine years, it looks like my time with Matei (and his family) will be at an end.

My cousin took part in the “No Kings” anti-Trump protests in New York state over the weekend. He’s not massively politically motivated, but that shows you the critical mass that has (at last) built up.

On Friday there was a huge gas explosion in a Ceaușescu-era tower block near Bucharest that killed three people including a pregnant woman. The disaster has since dominated the news.

Yesterday I took the car to Lake Surduc, and hour and a bit from here. Hardly a soul was there. The weather was just about perfect and it the autumn colours made for some nice scenery. Unfortunately there’s no way of walking around the lake unless you’re prepared to trudge through forest, which I actually did with Mark (and his dog) 3½ years ago. The lake is pretty close to that beautiful spot where I stayed with my friends from St Ives even further back. I came back via the town of Făget.

Topolovățu Mare, on the way to the lake

Lake Surduc

Făget
Life :)

Only the basics

October 12, 2025 by 0 Comments

Six days ago I picked up a cold and I’ve been on go-slow mode ever since. I’ve managed another 31-hour teaching week but that’s all I’ve managed. Wash, cook, feed Kitty, give my lessons, but everything else has gone by the board. Today I’m taking things as easy as possible before my five lessons tomorrow. (Kitty makes my lack of energy seem even more acute.)

Because I haven’t been feeling well, there’s not a lot to report. Trump didn’t win the Nobel peace prize. I’ve been reading about butterflies losing their bright colours to better blend in with their environment which is doing the same (ugh) and how the internet is becoming crappier by the minute thanks to enshittification and AI slop. This morning I watched a YouTube video from the brilliant RobWords about the (badly named) NATO phonetic alphabet. The familiar Alfa Bravo alphabet is extremely well designed. My brother must have used it extensively; I remember he once he described someone with undesirable olfactory qualities as having a Bravo Oscar problem. Another time I remember trying to use the NATO alphabet when ordering flowers after my uncle Mick had died. I wanted to include a message. “Sorry, is that Mick or Nick?” Mick, I said, with an M as in Mike. Adding a third name didn’t exactly clarify matters.

My parents are generally good, though when I last spoke to them they were reeling from a strong nor’wester. The forecast here is set fair for the next few days. Plenty of sun, with highs in the mid teens. Pretty much ideal.

Family - Life :) - Scrabble

Weddings: pressing all the wrong buttons

September 21, 2025 by 0 Comments

I’ve just spoken to Mum and Dad. No real news there. A vicious storm had been forecast for their local area, but it didn’t fully bare its teeth. On Friday I spoke to my brother who was nonplussed after Mum and Dad failed to make a call or send a message for their grandson’s birthday. (He turned three last Monday.) And it’s not like they forgot; Mum, who has a good memory for such things, chucked some birthday money in his direction, but they consciously decided not to make contact. What gives, my brother wondered. They spent all that time with their grandchildren over the summer but now they simply don’t care? He speculated that maybe both Mum and Dad had been hardened at a young age by attending boarding school. Just throw money at him, that’ll do.

A video popped up on Youtube last week which is an absolute must-watch for anyone with a friend or family member on the autistic spectrum. It’s about how weddings are sheer hell on about a dozen levels if you’re autistic. (Honestly, they often aren’t much fun even if you’re not because of the eye-watering cost. And these modern “destination weddings” are the epitome of wastage and selfishness. I’m worth you all spending thousands each to fly to my wedding in sodding Tahiti. Sorry, you’re not. You’re really really not. And because you’re so selfish, it’s fifty-fifty that it’ll be all over within five years.) The guy who made this video (and is married!) has a great sense of humour, as you can see at the beginning when he struggles even to utter the word “wedding”. And oh god, the expectation to dance. Someone asked me once to name my three greatest fears and I said dancing, weddings, and dancing at weddings. He did make one big omission, however, and that’s just how triggering weddings are. All the time you’re thinking, this is something normal people do but I’ll never do – certainly not like this, anyway – because I’m not normal. I should mention here that my brother’s one on the army base in Plymouth was fine, but that’s because it was my actual brother and I was very happy for him. Even then, I wasn’t too disappointed to get back to the hotel room at around midnight.

After my lessons yesterday I played six games of Scrabble – three wins, three losses. I’m finding 50-point bonuses at a decent clip but am hampered by my lack of knowledge of shorter words.

Today I’ll take the bike to Padurea Verde (the Green Forest) where I haven’t been for ages. We’re getting incredibly warm weather still – we’re forecast to hit 31 this afternoon. When I get back I’ve got a video call lined up with my cousin in America.

Language teaching - Life :) - Photos

The land of no nod

September 15, 2025 by 0 Comments

I’ve got five English lessons today (two down, three to go). My next session is with a new student who wants to do the Cambridge exam. Having more work is usually beneficial to my sleep and mental health, but it doesn’t always pan out that way. I was pretty busy on Saturday with all my maths lessons, then after work I had dinner at the beer factory with Mark. (I just had a chicken salad, but he wolfed down a meat-heavy local dish in no time.) I thought I’d sleep well after that, but I was up most of the night. There was a lot of dark matter floating around my head. At one point I got up and read a Wikipedia article on suicide rates in people with autism. The next day – yesterday – was pretty much a write-off. I’d planned a bike ride but had to flag it. Last night I slept rather better, and that’s keeping my head above water today. Tomorrow I’ll see the doctor. It’s unusual for me to go through a rough patch at this time of year – September is normally a good month for me.

In this morning’s Romanian session, after running through a bunch of verbs beginning with D, we talked about some subjects pertinent to our time: how advertising sucks people in, and whether you can trust anything you read online. In our previous session we discussed travel. When asked to name the most wonderful place I’d ever visited, I quickly said Bali. It really was magical for a nine-year-old boy. If I asked my brother, he’d probably give the same answer.

I played three games of Scrabble yesterday. In one game I was accused of cheating. I was definately using an annagramer, my opponent said. He (or she, but it’s always he, isn’t it?) could do with using a spell check. I won that game (in fact I won all three, one of them by just two points), but it left a sour taste in my mouth all the same. There’s no incentive for me to cheat. My motivation is to become better at Scrabble in the long term, not to win random games against people I don’t know from Adam.

They’re about to work on the bottom of this handsome building near me. It’s been stripped back to reveal what used to be a tailor’s (croitorie). That hand-painted signage is very Romanian; 30 years ago it would have all been like that.

The blade sharpener at the market near me. The man in his fifties who runs this stall is usually pumping out Depeche Mode and other similar music from his era.

Update: I’ve just had that lesson with the new guy. Only 16, he’s the tallest student I’ve had so far; he’s got to be at least six-four. (Come to think of it the guy who lives in London might well be taller, but I only see ever him sitting down so it’s hard to tell.) His English wasn’t too shabby either. In fact he hardly put a foot wrong. Will I be able to teach you anything? He said that he’s been speaking English since he learnt to walk and he intermingles English with Romanian when he’s with his friends. Ah, you’re one of those. Cool and sophisticated young Romanians like to show off their coolness and sophistication by using a cooler and more sophisticated language, as they see it. We just talked for the first half of the session. Then we did some Cambridge “use of English” exercises and he met his match when he hit the challenging part 4. (Some of the reading exercises are challenging even for me as a native speaker because they’re gamified; I’m not used to playing the game.) According to my records, which could easily be wrong, he’s my 200th student so far. I don’t get new students at the rate I used to; my existing ones tend to stick around longer. I still remember my 100th which was in January 2020, just before Covid and long before I got a car. I took tram number 4 to the end of the line, then trudged all the way to this young girl’s house in Urseni for our first and only one-hour session.

Autism - Life :) - Writing a book

Feeling better, but the end of the line for the books

September 13, 2025 by 0 Comments

After a few days of feeling close to gone, I’m almost back to normal. That’s a huge relief. I still have to catch up a bit from being so exhausted and clumsy and disorganised – this living room is a mess, for instance – but at least everything isn’t totally unmanageable as it was two days ago. Tomorrow (Saturday) I have lessons from 8:30 till 7 with very few breaks; I was worried that would be impossible for me.

I spoke to the woman at the “publishers” today (the inverted commas are there for a reason), three and a half months after we sent off the proposal or whatever it is they call it. It wasn’t accepted, or rather it was ignored. Lack of funds, or lack of interest, or both. I don’t really care what the reason is, and anyway I’d have been surprised if the outcome had been anything else. I told her what I wanted to do next, which is not waste any more time. I might end up having a coffee with her and Dorothy, just to be polite and to put the final full stop to the whole thing.

I told Dad about this. After all, he’d done 25 brilliant illustrations for the smaller of the two books. Don’t worry, I enjoyed doing them, he said. And you’ve still got all the text and artwork. You might bump into a publisher. Seriously, bump into a publisher! That’s not how it happens at all, Dad. If there’s anything that living with (probable) autism for 45 years has told me, it’s that you don’t bump into anything. Not anything good, I mean; you’re more than capable of bumping into piles of shite. You might have bumped into a publisher, Dad, and in no time at all had royalty cheques zooming in from America, all ready to be cashed at the wonderful rate of a dollar ten to the pound, as it was in 1985. But that isn’t how things work for me. I think I may have mentioned that at an autism group. If you’re autistic, connections are hard to make. Chance meetings are rare. If you really want to change your life, you have to actively make the change, hard as it is, because nothing will fall into your lap. Changing my lifestyle involved moving halfway around the world to a country where I didn’t know anybody and spoke little of the language: the very opposite of bumping into it. Anyway, I will need to actively pursue publishers here; there’s no way around that. For one thing, the vast majority of Romanian publishers are located in Bucharest.