Press
This morning, feeling rough from yet another night of tossing, turning, sneezing, coughing and trips to the loo I drove to college for a 'Staff Development Day'. I wasn't in the mood for this one but felt I had to go as I'd be letting my colleagues down otherwise. Since I try not to write about the dayjob here I'll briefly summarize my experience at work today as - arrived, was told I was too ill, left.
When I got home both J and the baby were in better form than yesterday, which was good. I was, however, surprised to find reporters circling the street. It seemed that yesterday a family from a few doors away had been skiing in Colorado when their eleven year old son had had a terrible accident and died. The press arrived in the shape of a young reporter, respectful and just wanting some local comment. An hour later I spotted a man setting up a video camera on a tripod, dutifully filming the front of the family's house and panning around for, what, local colour? Another reporter arrived soon after and the two of them knocked on all the doors for comment. When they reached us I politely refused to say anything other than that they were a lovely family (that's all I knew about them from personal experience. The reporter wanted more and looked deeply annoyed when I refused.
Another hour, another reporter. This one J dealt with. More charming than the last but just as desperate to get something more substantial than what we actually knew. It was a terrible tragedy, they are a lovely family. This reporter walked off further for more interviewees and then sat in his car for hours. I had the uneasy feeling he was waiting for the family's return so he could ask them how they felt. Luckily he left before they came back.
So much for a more cheerful post. I'll try again soon.
When I got home both J and the baby were in better form than yesterday, which was good. I was, however, surprised to find reporters circling the street. It seemed that yesterday a family from a few doors away had been skiing in Colorado when their eleven year old son had had a terrible accident and died. The press arrived in the shape of a young reporter, respectful and just wanting some local comment. An hour later I spotted a man setting up a video camera on a tripod, dutifully filming the front of the family's house and panning around for, what, local colour? Another reporter arrived soon after and the two of them knocked on all the doors for comment. When they reached us I politely refused to say anything other than that they were a lovely family (that's all I knew about them from personal experience. The reporter wanted more and looked deeply annoyed when I refused.
Another hour, another reporter. This one J dealt with. More charming than the last but just as desperate to get something more substantial than what we actually knew. It was a terrible tragedy, they are a lovely family. This reporter walked off further for more interviewees and then sat in his car for hours. I had the uneasy feeling he was waiting for the family's return so he could ask them how they felt. Luckily he left before they came back.
So much for a more cheerful post. I'll try again soon.
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