A love letter

Point_Break_movie_posterI always wanted to be a surfer. When I was 14, I hung out with some real surfer boys down at the beach in Folkestone.  Some days the waves could be fully a few inches high as they crashed to shore.

And I have to confess that Point Break is one of my favourite films. This is because of my misguided belief that it shows a lovely lifestyle: taking away all the robbing of banks, of course.

Nothing to do with Keanu Reeves: honestly. Although my daughter’s father was approached by some girls in Tampa Bay who mistook him for the great wooden actor. But that was a century ago.

This love letter isn’t to Keanu or to surfing. It’s to Twitter (bear with me.) It still amazes me that many of my family, close friends, acquaintances, people I look up to etc think it is pointless and would somehow lower them to join. I won’t list their objections as, in the words of the great Molesworth, “I diskard them’.

If it wasn’t for Twitter, I wouldn’t have found Weekly Blog Club, which I came across via my work on an archaeological dig. I love these weird links. Its deadlines (ha!) and the support I’ve found help my writing enormously,

In the last 24 hours, wonderful things have happened on Twitter, I’ve used it for work, where I spotted and claimed some free collection tins to use on Stepney City Farm’s donkey walks.

That got me into conversation with the wonderful Childsi Foundation, a truly inspiring charity helping abandoned children in Uganda, and the terrific Kirsty Marrins, who’s always got fascinating social media info to share and is now signed up for ferret-walking. Not to mention an offer of support and a free Coffee Guide from Klaudia at Allegra Strategies: donor of donation tins.

I’ve been overwhelmed by the  new campaign to combat food waste that was launched at the farm this week: The Pig Idea. If you’ve read this far and you haven’t heard of it, please check it out. A Twitter exchange led to thoughts of a children’s play about this in liaison with the Half Moon Young People’s Theatre.

There’s been much more but enough about work. Today is a writing day so I naturally headed straight to Twitter.

It was playing about there this morning during important brainstorming and blue sky thinking (aka arsing about) that has inspired my tribute.

I had an Alice in Wonderland moment of surrealness as a comment I made was favourited by self-styled gay immigrant @carrozo , whose account of yesterday’s smash and grab raid at Selfridges is today’s Daily Mail lead story.

I always look forward to entertaining and informative food writing and curation by Sarah Emily Duff.  Today she showcased some superb food pseudery about onions, which led to an exchange of appalling puns between us and a surfer in South Africa. As it does.

All my unrequited longing for surfing hit me and took me right back to how it felt to be 14. It may well  have filled a gap in the neverending rack of pain that is my novel writing. So thank you, Steve Kretzman.

And if you want to swap surfing in SA for writing in Whitechapel, you know who to ask.

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