On TV tonight.

Just had TV Canarias on the phone. They say I'll be on TV tonight at 10:30 pm in "Canarias, Mi Mundo." With a bit of luck, they're right this time.

Busy, busy

I've been burning the candle both ends lately, and not for fun.

I'm on a course to become a tour guide, specializing in astronomy. Of course I've been working as a tour guide at the observatory for a couple of years, and I love it, so the course is just what I want. The tricky part is making the time. It's three separate weeks (on in March, one in April and one in May) and each week is pretty intense: lectures from 4 pm - 9 pm Monday to Friday (that's 5 hours, all in Spanish), plus practical activities on Friday night and Saturday afternoon and evening. Later one, there's a couple of overnight activities. Well, astronomy usually happens at night, doesn't it? And I was rather startled to find that the practical activites involve fairly strenuous hiking. I hadn't realised that some hiking firms offer night-time hikes with added stargazing. Fine. Great idea. It's just that I'm worried that I'm not fit enough.

While I was at the course on Monday, TV Canaria phoned to say that I'd be in "Canarias, Mi Mundo" late on Tuesday night - the bit they'd filmed of me at the beginning of the month. I was surprised that it was so soon, but this started a flurry of activity, with my husband preparing to record it and me telling the world I was going to be on.

Although I was rather tired, I stayed up to watch the programme. And I wasn't in it.

It was a bad time to miss sleep, because yesterday I had a guiding job in the morning as well. I left home at 8:15, showed one group around the Liverpool telescope, and two more around the Herschel. I got home at 2:45, very glad that I'd grabbed a pizza on the way, because I had to eat, shower and leave by 3:30. And then I had my five hours of lectures in Spanish. I was half dead by the end of that.

And this afternoon I have more to come.

Up at Spook City

My story "Shopping Lists is now up at Spook City

A Carnival costume

My son fancied a Ghostbusters costume for Carnival. We borrowed a backpack sulphur duster, which I cleaned out on Thursday, and I bought white overalls (which my husband can use later). On Thursday evening, my husband and son sprayed the backpack black, while I got a Ghostbusters logo off the internet and ironed two copies of it onto the overalls, and printed another two onto sticky labels to go on the back pack.

Very quick (apart from washing the dang sulphur out!) easy and cheap, and it was very effective. He wore it to the school's carnival party on Friday, and we filled it with talc for Los Indianos tonight, and we got lots of positive comments.

Filming, part 3: The road to the Roque

Wednesday was the last day of filming, but would be the first to be broadcast. I set off a little early, so I'd have time for a relaxing coffee at the residencia, the observatory's private hotel, before meeting the film crew.

In Velhoco, I had to swerve around a dog lying on the road. I ahd a bad feeling about it, so I parked, and went back to look.

The dog lay there gasping, pleading with his eyes.

Obviously it had been hit by a car. I didn't really have time, but I started knocking on doors, trying to find the owner. Since it was 8:50 am, most people were out.

At perhaps the seventh door, a woman answered. I told her there was an injured dog lying in the road.

She shrugged. "I haven't got a dog." The obvious inference was, "and I couldn't care less."

I knocked on more doors, which stayed shut. Finally I got another answer, a man who said he didn't have a dog either. And clearly he couldn't care less.

I knocked on more doors. I was beginning to really worry about the dog and the time, when I heard someone lamenting loudly, so I went back to the dog.

It was a young man, perhaps twenty years old. I asked, "Is it your dog?"

He yelled, "Are you the bitch who hit him?"

That hurt. "No, he was lying there and I stopped to find the owner."

"Well help me get him to the vet."

"I have to get to work."

"Well there's no point stopping if you won't help! Why didn't you take him to the vet straight away?"

Perhaps I should have, but before I could reply, the poor dog stopped breathing. I wished I'd stayed with him and at least stroked his head for his last few minutes.

So we moved the dog to the grass verge, and the young man started yelling and kicking at an abandoned car.

I started to get really worried that he was going to hit me.

So I said, "I'm really sorry about your dog," got back in my car and drove off.

I felt pretty shaky after that, but I didn't have time to stop and calm down until I got to the observatory an hour later, where I burst into tears.

But you know what? I think I liked the young man better than the people who didn't care at all. He's probably quite nice when he isn't in shock.