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Footplates

It has been a busy day so far. I was just in the park getting a few pick-ups for the cafe film we're shooting. The guy with me, a great fellow also called matt, was telling me all about his experiences as a grip. As we went about the park getting shots, I was leading in my powerchair and he was following. When that happens, I have the habit of occasionally stopping and looking back to check whether the person following me is all right, so it must look oddly like a dog being taken for a walk, making sure his owner is still following.

On our travels, Matt made a comment I just had to smile at. He said my wheelchair needed a footplate for him to stand on, like the ones mums put on the back of prams for older, ambulant siblings. Such a footplate would, of course, be a bad idea as it would wreck the chair's motors, but I just had to smile at it: Esther used to say exactly the same thing as I lead her around campus. The comment thus took me instantly back ten years, and I automatically thought of my old friend and learning support assistant following me here, there and everywhere, a slight look of puzzlement on her face.

In a way, it was a similar situation: at university, I was being productive, just as I was today. I found that rather pleasing - at the moment I feel I'm contributing to something, making something, just as I did at uni. Mind you, judging from the look on Matt's face, i might just have to slow down a bit - either that or get one of those footplates.

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