Fight! Fight!

We witnessed a really vicious fight in the park yesterday.
As usual when something kicks off big time, a large crowd soon gathered, gawping and even taking photos.

The protagonists were two sets of parents.

The alphas, let's call them Gnasher and Slasher, had 5 tiny babies.
Their opponents, we'll call them Distraught and Bereaved (you can see where this is going, can't you?) had yet to bring their young into the world.

The aggression and the sheer level of violence was shocking, even to those brought up in the urban heartlands.
Each had their feet on their opposite number's shoulders and was attempting to throw them and hold them under the surface of the lake.
They raked each other's chests, shrieking wordlessly.

The end result was as sad as it was inevitable.

Distraught and Bereaved could do nothing but watch in despair as Gnasher and Slasher rolled their precious unborn from the nest and proceeded to feed them to their own babies.

Sometimes I'm really glad I'm not a coot.

Dreams, themes and schemes

I have this dream.
I've had it - oh, like for ever.

But considering what's happening to our planet it's become ever more urgent to find different and more sustainable ways to live.

So this is my dream.

There's this large bunch of diverse people.

We have this plot of land in a beautiful location.
On this land, we have an allotment where we grow all our own veg.
We have solar and wind power and generate all our own energy.
We each have our own home that we have built ourselves.

Though there is a degree of collectivity, we have autonomy in our own homes and over our own lives.

We compost, recycle and reuse.

Between us all we have the skills to build, garden, plumb etc.
Everybody will have their own skills or resources to contribute.
Some may bring more £££ - others will work harder.
(From each according to their means.)

Some may need or choose to have jobs outside the community.
Others will be able to work from home (me!) or on the land (me again).

Inevitably there will be some disagreements.
But we'll work them out.
Because we'll be a real community based on altruistic principles and mutual support.

Some people might think it sounds like a nightmare.
Others might say it could never work.

But I think it's a lovely dream.

Anyone share my dream?

Quaking ...

No sonner had I posted about global warning than I read about the earthquake this morning - in Kent!

Several thousand homes in the Dover and Folkestone area are without electricity.
There are 300 possible gas escapes.
The British Geological Society described it as 'a very significant tremor ... of sizeable magnitude'.

Nothing to do with global warming of course ...

Blahblahblahblahblah ...

How many words do you reckon you speak aloud each day?

The answer is 2-4,000 -

- if you're a man.

If you're a woman the answer is 6-8,000.

Now why do you think there's such a discrepancy?

I have my own theories, but I'd be interested to hear what other people think those extra words are ...

(I don't know how reliable these figures are. My source is a throwaway line on Have I Got News for You.)

Hot Stuff

July 2006 - Britain's hottest ever month

Autumn 2006 - Britain's hottest ever Autumn season

Winter 2006-7 - Britain's 2nd hottest ever Winter season

31/04/06 - 01/05/07 - Britain's ever hottest 12 month period

Still reckon global warming's not a problem?

A paucity of posts

I've been blogger-lite this week, as you've probably noticed.

So much life to live, so few days in the week to live it in ...

Here are some of the things conspiring to keep me from you all.

• I'm still post-marathon pooped. (Yes, I know I didn't run the damn thing, but it feels like it.)

• I'm getting a lot of freelance editing work. (Good for the cash flow, bad for my own writing.)

• Little Guy's school swimming gala. (They came 2nd in the borough.)

• Dad. (Still thriving at 92.)

• Little Guy's assembly. (In French!)

• First Born and I taking part in a major research project. (Hence this question.)

• Agreed to produce regular parents' newsletter for FB's school.

• Something exciting (watch this space) coming out of a certain forum.
  

So it's all good stuff. Just there's a lot of it.
Which means less time for communicating with you all.

I'll try to find time to visit all your blogs ASAP.
Meanwhile, have a hug from me.

Techy spitting

I just drafted a really long post asking for advice -

- and it's gone.

Fffft. Just like that.

Where? There? Grrrr ...

So to cut a long post teensy, what I really wanted to know is if anyone has any info re ERP and MRI scans and whether they are safe for children.

Those marathon details

I promised you the full story of G's marathon.

Let's start the evening before.

He wasn't confident about his blood sugar levels and for several hours was doing blood tests every 10-15 mins and then hourly through the night.

Not ideal.

Sunday morning.

7.30am cab comes.
7.42am G calls. He's virtually the first person on Blackheath! Unsurprising since he's 2 hrs early.
7.47am G calls again. He's left his insulin here! Disaster! We rack our brains but can't think of any way to get it to him in time.
8.09am Another call. He says there are more people arriving now and the atmosphere is building. He feels ok.
8.21am Another call - to say his blood sugar is going up.
9.05am Last call. He's just run 20 times around the field, brought his sugar down a bit but now it's on the way up again.

10.00am First Born, Little Guy and I leave home and get the bus to Westminster Bridge.
11.00am Take up usual position on Embankment 100m from Big Ben.
12.15pm Meloney and family join us. (Mel ran the marathon in 2005 - they have always been a wonderful source of support. Thanks!)
12.30pm Start looking out for G. If he's going to bust the 3 hr mark (remember he was less than 2 mins outside that last year) he needs to come through in the next 8 mins.
12.40pm Accept he's not going to achieve his target.
12.55pm Accept he's not going to beat 3 hrs 15 mins.
1.10pm Or even 3 hrs 30 mins. Panic building now. Holding phone in hand (he has my mobile number on the back of his race number in case of emergencies). Something has gone badly wrong. But how bad??? Kids getting anxious and I can't reassure them.
1.30pm Imagine for yourself!
1.35pm Here he is! He stops. I've never seen him looking so ill. He has pain in his left hamstring, stomach cramps and he can't breathe. Not as in puffed out ... as in can't breathe!

Don't know if he needs insulin or sugar. Neither the Red Cross stations nor the ambulance he has approached have testing kits (!) and (rightly) they won't administer insulin. They can only offer to take him to hospital, which he refuses.
(In previous years he has been able to get his sugar tested en route, which is why he hadn't carried his own testing kit.)

He insists he still wants to get to the end. We agree to meet as usual in Trafalgar Square.

Crisis! The police are stopping everyone from going down the subway! We are directed the long way round. We jostle through the crowds, trying to keep an eye on 5 kids but we can't cross the road! The marathon cuts us off. There's no way to get to Whitehall and up to Trafalgar Square.

I talk to another cop. It's an emergency. I have G's insulin in my bag - it's vital I get to him ASAP.

Cop: (shrugs) Nothing I can do.
Me: But it's an emergency. He might have ketoacidosis (potentially life-threatening condition resulting from high sugar).
Cop: You could talk to St John's Ambulance people.
Me: How will that help? It's not me that needs the help! I just need to get across the road ...
Cop: They have transport.

St John's Ambulance person: We don't have transport. We could radio ahead to the finish line ...
Me: How will that help? I have his insulin ...
SJA person: You could try going round to the crossing point ...

At this point Mel and co break off so I can concentrate on getting through with kids.

At last! A wonderful marathon marshall breaks down the barrier and shepherds us across the road weaving between the runners.

FB grabs the insulin and sprints down Whitehall to Trafalgar Square, where we all finally meet up. Everything is now in one place: testing kit, insulin, sugar - and Greg - and we can take back control and he can sort himself out.

He's very disappointed with his time (3 hrs 53 mins) of course - nearly an hour longer than his aim. But it's all part of the learning curve and I'm proud of the way he's handling it.

Most important of all, he's ok. That's the only thing that matters.

From his point of view, he still finished (with a sprint!) and has a 7th medal for his collection.

Out of 7 marathons, he has completed all well within 5 hrs, 6 within 4 hrs, 5 within 3.5 hrs and 3 within 3.25 hrs.
Which ain't bad for a 49 yr old with diabetes!

You can still sponsor him as the site remains open 'til 22/6. Thanks.

All over

It's over.

The good news is that G finished the full 26.2 miles.

Of course he finished.
He would have finished if he had been forced to crawl.
Backwards.
With his ankles tied.

The bad news?

He had a bad time.
A VERY bad time.

He'll be ok.

Though you know what this means, don't you?
He's planning on doing it again next year ...

Details to follow ...

Oh and please sponsor him here if you haven't already done so.
It's what it's all about ...

Next time you hear from me ...

... it will all be over.

Blood, sweat and tears are guaranteed.

That's if G has any blood left after doing blood tests every few minutes since he woke this morning ...

He's been fighting off a low sugar all day, terrified of over-compensating and ending up high.

Bloody diabetes.

I'm thinking of starting a support group for diabetic marathon runners and their partners.
It's a lethal combination, believe me.

Don't forget it's still not too late to sponsor him here and raise money for Refuge.

Conversations

# 1

G: I'm getting a cough.
Me: Oh dear.
G: No really. I am. I mean it.
Me: Hmmm.
G: I can feel it. It's here. (Taps chest.) Ahem. Ahem. See? I'm coughing.
Me: Ah.
G: Why don't you believe me?
Me: Oh I do.
G: It's real. It is. A year of training and now this. It's a disaster.
Me: Ooooh.
G: (Dry scraping sound as he desperately tries to drag up non-existent phlegm from clean as a whistle tubes.) I'm going to do another blood test.
Me: Good idea.
G: (Wafts away steam from ears as attempts complex calculations to ensure blood sugar is at optimum level tomorrow.)
Me: Well?
G: It's quite high.
Me: Well that's better than low.
G: Why won't you believe me? I'm going down with something. I am. I'm coughing. Ahem. Ahem.
Me: There is such a thing as a nervous cough ...
G: A nervous cough? A nervous cough? Are you mad?
Me: (Sighs.) This happens every year. You just forget when you're in the middle of it.
G: I'll do another blood test. Agh! Disaster! It's low. That's completely blown it. I'll have a throwback high this time tomorrow. I won't be able to run. It's all over ...

# 2

G: I'm ready now. I'm up for it. It's ok. I'm on track. I'm gonna do this. I feel good.

# 3

Me: Boys! Do your homework now. Just get on with it. We can't have any aggravations today.
First Born: You're abusing your power. Just wait 'til I'm your mother!

# 4

Little Guy: I can't find my gym kit.
Me: Isn't it where it usually is?
LG: No. Dad put it somewhere ...
Me: Well, that's it then isn't it ...
LG: Yep. We'll never find it now.

# 5

FB & LG: Phwoar. Don't go near dad. He's just chewed a whole bulb of raw garlic ...
Me: (through gritted teeth) Hang on, guys. Less than 25 hrs to go ...

# 6

Me to all of you: Please make all this worthwhile by sponsoring G here. Big thanks to those of you who have already done so.

Techy tantrum

I don't hate you.

I'm not ignoring you.

There's nothing wrong with me.

Or you.

But there evidently is something wrong with my bloody email - again!

I've had phone calls from people worrying that there's some nameless crisis going on.

I've had emails from people worrying if they might have upset me ...

And they're only the ones I know about.

There could be loads of people out there feeling irritated or rejected.

I think the problem's only with my sent mail not arriving.

(I hope so - otherwise I'll need to have anxiety attacks that there are emails floating round in the ether from my agent promising the earth - but for a time limited period ...)

I know about some of the ones I've sent that never arrive (even though they don't bounce back and appear quite happy nestling in my sent list).

But it's inevitable there must be more that I don't know about ....

I have 3 different email addresses.
The Freeserve one that many friends use and that also have 'official' stuff carefully filed in.
The one attached to my website.
And a Google one.

I think the Google one might be faring better ... (though I know of at least one person not getting my mail from there either).

If you think I've gone all quiet, I haven't.
I've probably been shrieking into cyberspace at you and wondering why you weren't responding.

Sorry.

Wonder where all the lost emails go ...

Maybe I'll find them in the airing cupboard where I located G's lucky tights ...

Definition of a writer

I've lost count of the number of times I've read about people wondering if they can call themselves a writer ...

It seems different people have different definitions.

Here are some of the most common:

• if you write, you are a writer
  
• you're only a writer if you're published
• you're only a writer if you've earned money from it
• sod other people's definitions - it's how you FEEL ...

An American woman in my writers' group has come up with a 5th definition.

Apparently, according to US law, if you have received a minimum of 3 rejections, you are allowed to call youself a writer and use related expenses on your tax return.

Whoever said there's no such thing as a positive rejection?

Succumbing to the G-force

Maniacmum is hosting an online marathon party here.

As you all know, running is not my thing but I do love a good online party ...

And it will be interesting to attend an official one, as opposed to a squatted rave in an abandoned comments box ...

Since all life is now geared to G's run on Sunday, I thought I'd post here the interview G did for the author of this book, so you can see what he (and yours truly) are contending with.

Greg Kat – marathon story

My running career started strong, petered out in my teens and then took off again when I was in my forties.

When I was 14, I was the Junior All-London 1500m champion, but gave up running soon after due to teenage angst and a lack of confidence.

Over 3 decades later, I started running again to keep fit and decided to enter the London marathon in 2000. I chose the marathon as it’s the ultimate challenge. I work in the leisure industry (at that time as a lifeguard and now as a swimming teacher) so managed to get a place through work.

I ran for Diabetes UK. When I was 21, I was diagnosed with insulin-dependant diabetes and inject 4 times a day. A marathon is high endurance, when the body is constantly taxed over a long period of time. I knew that even if I got my sugar levels spot on at the beginning, they would be bound to fluctuate during the run. It was impossible to predict how my body would react, so I decided I was in it for the experience, not to achieve a particular time. If my sugar went low, I risked collapsing. If it went high, there was a risk of ketoacidosis – a potentially life-threatening condition.

I started at the back of the field, where it takes ages just to reach the start line, and refuelled during the run constantly with Lucozade and jelly beans. I completed the course comfortably in 4hrs 33mins 28secs and was happy with that. I saw it as the first part of a steep learning curve.

In 2001 I ran again – this time for a small charity called Equal Weight – and knocked over an hour off my previous time, finishing in 3hrs 27mins 52secs.

The following year, when I ran for the Child Poverty Action Group , I improved my time again – this time to 3hrs 11mins 25secs, qualifying me for an automatic place the next year in the ‘Good for your Age’ category. Suddenly everything seemed possible. I set myself a target. I wanted to complete a marathon in under 3hrs. But then in 2003, when I ran for a small school in north London, I had a disaster. On the 10^th mile my sugar plummeted to a dangerously low level. I ended up in an ambulance and the woman wouldn’t allow me to continue until she was confident I was stable. She eventually let me go (reluctantly) but radioed ahead to the first aid station on the 16^th mile and told me to stop there and have my blood sugar checked again.

When I got to the 16^th mile I felt fine and would have run past. But the wonderful marathon team were having none of it! The guy ran out into the road holding my number aloft and demanded I stop. When I said I didn’t want to, he ran alongside me and tested my blood!

I met my family and friends on the 25^th mile and stopped to tell them what had happened. I completed the course in 3hrs 33mins 51secs. People told me that in many ways this was my greatest achievement yet, considering the circumstances, but I was really disappointed. I was desperate to crack that 3hr mark and had failed in my own eyes.

In 2004 the experience was better. I ran for Kids Out and was back to my previous time – 3hrs 11mins 14secs.

I decided to take a break and didn’t take part in 2005, though I continued to train as well as running half marathons and in other events. I was averaging 60-70 miles per week. Every week. Come rain, snow or sunshine …

Last year I was tantalisingly close to my target. I ran for ALD Life and finished in 3hrs 1min 47secs.

This year I’m running for Refuge , the domestic violence charity. You can sponsor me here.

Will 2007 be the year I break that magical 3hr mark?

It will be my last opportunity to do it before I turn 50 …

The blogosphere at its best

This here blogosphere has no end of detractors.

But sometimes something comes along that proves it's worth beyond any possible doubt.

That's when someone comes up with an idea and spreads it via the blogs.
An idea that makes a real difference.
To real people.
With real lives.

This initiative from Wandering Author is one such initiative.


Please go here to support his project ...

... and make a real difference.

Serious countdown ...

Right. 8 days 'til marathon day.

G's training is supposed to be winding down now.

Everything else is winding up.

Big time.

Neurosis - several points up.
Terror of getting last minute virus - at the max.
Losing things (today it's his mobile and his 'lucky' running tights) - on the red.
Mood swings - at tipping point.
Strange habits - no worse than usual. (Still going to bed with a hot water bottle and wearing woolly hat.)
Last minute horror - this could be it. The running vest he has to wear to show he's running for Refuge is not only shocking pink, but also has the Sun logo on the back.
Blood sugar - swinging.
Teeth - ground to stubs.
Support - superb. (Lots of emails, texts and phone calls wishing him luck. Also Marathon Mum kindly sent him a copy of her book, Running on Empty, which he's buried in when he's not running, testing his blood, chewing raw garlic or searching for lost items.)

So - looks like we're nearly ready then ...

If you want to make all this worthwhile, please go here to sponsor him.

Update: That link should have been Maniacmum. Sorry. And the book is brill ...

Quick - this invitation has a time limit

It seems I've organised a blog squatters' party.

Not quite sure how that happened - though I doubt if that defence will hold up in court ...

Anyway, slip on the glad rags, gather the party faithful and get yourself down to the comments column here.

(For previous parties, check the comments here and here.)

On blogging ...

Some good debates taking place on blogs re blogs.
(We do so love 'em, don't we?
Personally I can never get enough navel-gazing.
Only the other day I found a piece of virtual fluff from the last millenium.)

Anyway - Norman Geras talks here about political blogging.

And Atyllah talks here about whether we need a civility code to prevent blog abuse.

And how did I miss that March 30 was supposed to be Stop Cyberbullying Day?

Bah! See what happens if you look away from the screen long enough to do pointless things like eat, sleep or speak more than 2 words to your loved ones? (The 2nd word usually being 'off'.)

technorati tags: takebackthetech
stopcyberbullying

London Life - it ain't so bad ...

My general take on life is that happiness is not having what you want, but wanting what you have.

Although that doesn't mean that:

• you shouldn't recognise negative aspects and strive to change them
• you shouldn't be on the lookout for ways to improve the quality of your life
• you shouldn't dream

But it follows that while we would love to live another way - as part of a real community as opposed to being forced to live as a nuclear family in a council flat - and out of London, away from the noise, pollution, crime and grime - there are still plenty of positive aspects to focus on.

Here we are, it's the holidays, the sun is shining - just look at what's available a short walk from home.

There's Peckham Rye, with its history going back to Boadecia (or Boudicca as she seems to be known these days).

Or Dulwich Park created in 1890 with its lake, cafe and sporting facilities.

Or the Horniman Museum with its new aquarium and mega £££ refit.

Then there's the Horniman Gardens with the nature trail, animals and glorious views right across London.

We also went to Dulwich and Sydenham Woods - the last vestiges of the Great North Woods that used to cover the whole of SE England.

A short drive took us to Battersea Park a couple of days ago, where we gazed over the Thames and romped with Meloney and her family.

Another slightly longer drive took us to Godstone Farm where we played all day in sandpits, castles and with various children and animals.

And today I met the writers' group for the coffee caucus.

Pretty good, eh?
Life - it's what you make of it.

One for the techies

If such things matter to you, check this out re blogging ranking.

Also according to this lot, wireless thingy wotsits are crapola:

The WEP security protocol that encrypts data carried over WiFi networks, used widely by businesses and consumers, can be cracked in seconds with nothing more powerful than a standard laptop PC, according to security researchers from Darmstadt University of Technology in Germany. The researchers claim that they have discovered flaws in the WEP algorithm which would enable a hacker to identify the security key required to gain unhindered access to the wireless network in very little time, less than a minute to capture the required data and then just a few seconds to extract the key from that data.

The WEP protocol has never really been considered particularly robust, and this discovery renders it practically useless as a serious security tool. Organisations using wireless networks to carry any sort of sensitive information are advised to use the more advanced WPA protocol which is available on more modern wireless equipment, or to consider third party security products to strengthen their networks.

It probably goes without saying that my eyes glazed well before I got to the end of the first line, but in my infinite generosity I thought some of the less technically-challenged among you might appreciate the info ... (whatever it means - and that's NOT a plea for someone to explain it to me!)

Blaugustine blast

What are you doing tomorrow (Thurs 12/4) between 6.30 and 8.30?

I know what I'll be doing.

I'll be at the Cartoon Museum celebrating the launch of Natalie d'Arbeloff's book.
(Natalie blogs at Blaugustine.)

You are invited to the launch of

The God Interviews

at the Cartoon Museum
35 Little Russell Street, London WC1

on Thursday April 12
6:30-8:30pm

The book will be introduced by
Ernesto Priego,
comics historian, critic and poet

See you there?

UPDATE: Yes, yes, I know. It wasn't 'tomorrow' when I posted this. But it might be when you read it. Not that I was thinking that at the time. More a matter of not knowing what day it is ...

The blogosphere is 10 years old

10 years.

Can you believe it?

My blog is 1 year 2 and a bit months old and I can't imagine life without it.

But the first blog started back in April 1997.

The Guardian Unlimited News blog has a great round up of the last decade.

I may never move away from my laptop again ...

Another kick in the teeth

Since the death of Jean Charles de Menezes, the innocent Brazilian shot on 22 July 2005 at Stockwell Station by police who mistook him for a terrorist, there has been a public shrine outside the tube.

The shrine is maintained by local people, friends and supporters.
You can even send letters to it.

At one point there was also a mural close by but it was painted over by a Lambeth Council anti-graffiti team.

Now the local paper has just carried a report that Transport for London want the shrine to be taken down and replaced with an official plaque.

The family have had little from officialdom apart from cover ups and attempted character assassinations.

The only support they have had has been from the public.

Now it seems they're not even going to be allowed the visual symbol of that public support.

You too can be a travel writer

Dorling Kindersley has a cunning plan to turn just about anyone into a published travel writer.

If you go here, you can select from thousands of destinations, browse around, add your own images and craft your unique Eyewitness Travel Guide which can then be downloaded or posted to you.

But surely that must cost a fortune ...?

No - it only costs £2.50 per guide or £10 a year for unlimited access.

Cool, huh?

Women + writers + photography = exhibition

As a woman who writes and also takes photographs, this is one exhibition I really don't want to miss.

The National Portrait Gallery has an exhibition of photographs of women writers from 1920 to 1960.

'Being single, and having some money, and having the time - having no men, you see' was how the writer Ivy Compton-Burnett rather bluntly explained why so many women were writing fiction after the First World War. The photographic portraits in this display were made in the period 1920 to1960 when the majority of fiction was written by women, a phenomenon that can also be explained by improved access to education and society's growing acceptance of the working woman.

The writers of this new wave of women's fiction were professional and prolific - by the age of thirty-two Pamela Frankau had published twenty books and Enid Blyton could produce a children's book in five working days. The popular romance writer Ruby Ayres declared she 'wrote for money' and in 1955 told the Daily Mail about her creative process; 'First I fix the price, then I fix the title, then I write the book'. She could write as many as 20,000 words a day.

Virginia Woolf believed that women's fiction in the 1920s was 'far more genuine and far more interesting to-day than it was a hundred or even fifty years ago'. The diversity of women writers over these four decades is remarkable. This display includes crime, romance and children's writers, literary and 'middle-brow' novelists, and those who tackled issues of female sexuality, and faced scandal. The photographers in this collection include Paul Tanqueray, Cecil Beaton and Man Ray; the images range from studio portraits to portraits of the writer at work.

Yummy.

To whom respect is due ...

I've already told you about Rachel here and here.

Another survivor of 7/7, Gill Hicks, has published a book a couple of days ago.

Here's the synopsis for One Unknown:

In this personal memoir, Gill recounts the events of that day, from facing the very real prospect that she might die and her subsequent fight to live, to later coming to terms with losing her legs and living life as a disabled person. The book includes excerpts from the diary she wrote during her rehabilitation, an account of her wedding day in December 2005, when she hit headlines all around the world, and traces the journey of her extraordinary recovery. Having survived this life-shattering experience, Gill asks important questions about how we set our priorities and the way we live our lives. She motivates readers to 'seize the day' and live life to the full while striving for a better, more tolerant world. Her powerful message has a broader audience than most 'ordinary' motivational books because of the experience out of which it was borne. This moving account is told with great integrity and honesty, and Gill's lack of self pity and keen sense of humour lighten the tone and make this book very special indeed.

Gill is now an ambassador with Peace Direct and has made a film with them.

Watch it - I'm sure you'll agree that Gill has set whole new standards for the word 'inspiring'.

As a result of the film, the group set up Practical Peace, who (in their own words) provide:

Links, quotes, books, anecdotes and tips on small things we can all do to make the world a more peaceful place. Each month we send out a Practical Peace e-newsletter offering simple suggestions on things you can do, read, buy, question or change to help make moves towards a sustainable peace.

You can sign up for the newsletter here.

It's so hard to spel in Inglish

Such an illogical language.
Bah.
Such a trial if you happen to be dyslexic -
- or just a common or garden crap speller ...

You're not alone.

There are even poems pointing out the absurdities.

Hell, there's even a whole website devoted to poems pointing out the absurdities ...

Blogging from the dark side

All life is here in the blogosphere.
The good, the bad and the very deeply disturbed ...

We've all moaned about our own blogging nasties at one time or another.

But few of us have had to put up with a case of blog harassment so bad it has ended up in court.

And even if we had, it's doubtful we would have handled it with the intelligence, sensitivity and balance of Rachel from the north (who I mentioned here as a thinking blogger).

For Rachel's story pre-stalker - and evidence that she is the last possible person to either deserve or need the harassment - see here.