many of the processes involved in moving here to Cumbria have been hugely frustrating. To just get a gas bill, for instance, I had to in the end get my MP to put pressure on British Gas. Then I thought to supplement my meagre income from my freelance writing by getting a part-time job as a support worker looking after adult autistic males. But, because the building was not quite ready, the employers spun out the clearance procedure for so long - 5 months - that in the end - yesterday - I told them what to do with the job. Then I thought to go and mix with the Cumbrian literati at the Words by the Water festival in Keswick. But the only people at the drink-and-nibbles reception all seemed to know each other and seemed to be either retired or employed as creative writing tutors. I have decided, once again, to bury myself in my garret.
