We are at a disused train station in the north of Scotland.. The lights I only just managed to get up here are in full use making things look pretty. The team is working tighter now and we are learning to anticipate one another’s ways. I was very very drunk last night. They kept buying me whisky on very little sleep. I noticed it this morning. My brain has been bleeding all day, but fortunately it hasn’t been a pressing long day at all. There were stormy teacups regarding batteries and cards, but we are all getting used to the occasional tornado. It is largely inevitable when we don’t know what the shots are.

Right now the moon is up and it’s peaceful here. The wind is in the trees. We are all getting excited at the possibility of some aurora activity this first night when the dark is longer than the light. Perhaps some of us will drive up and see it.

It’s a team of nice people making a thing. No dicks, unless it’s me. Some personality for sure. Occasionally temperatures run high but at no point is anyone being toxic. It’s hard work and long hours but I’ll miss it when it’s over. And the longer the team stays in place the better we get at anticipating each other.

My hangover has an effect on my memory though. This afternoon I gave the smoke machine to the gaffer and adjusted my runsheet to make note of the exchange. Then I completely and utterly forgot the whole exchange as if it had never happened and was utterly confused when the thing wasn’t in the Zarges. Must be getting old. “They’re on your head, grandad!” Well it WAS my birthday yesterday.

Everyone is looking at the stars. I’m gonna get out from under my little easy-up. I’m just sitting with the tech at the moment wondering if I’m gonna be needed, and writing this down now so I don’t have to hammer it out exhausted before bedtime.

Which is now. I had the mother and father of all bubble baths. Now I must sleep. Tomorrow morning it’ll all start again. Two venues. So long as the weather holds out we will be fine. Rain is a ruin. Nights like this are just a joy.

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Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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