I wonder why I resisted the lure of the computer for so long. My life, after all, has been a series of changes. Until arriving in Cannock in 1977 I'd never lived in one place for longer than seven years. I was used to leaving behind me the security of all that was familiar and facing the uncertainty of a new environment. However, embracing new technology is very different from moving to new surroundings. For many years I rejected the telephone, mobile phones, television and calculators but eventually came to appreciate their benefits. Computers took much longer to win me over.
They inspired me with awe and, I must admit, a certain terror. My daughter would spend hours in the computer centre at university, teaching herself to use what was by then an essential aid to study. She was the last year in school to sit O-levels and also the last not to study computing. One evening she took me to the centre with her. She began keying in messages to a friend in another room. I'd watch, mesmerised, as his replies came up on her screen almost instantaneously. This pair were having fun! However, it merely reinforced my picture of the computer as a frivolous gimmick!
What, then, changed my mind? Firstly, I would sometimes help Anna in her London office. My tasks would be unskilled and tedious, like updating files or washing coffee cups. She'd say, 'If only you could work on the computer for me, it would be great!'
'Anna, I'm 72 years old!'
'Mum, you're never too old to learn.'
Then, last December, I overheard another client at the hairdresser's enthusing about the marvellous computer classes she was attending at Cannock College. She said they were free and many of the students were older people. Next day, out of curiosity, I dropped in at the college and before I knew what I was doing I had registered, not for one but for three different courses, starting in January. Was I taking leave of my senses?
Those early lessons were hilarious! I faced the first session with trepidation. I sat down on a chair that had a will of its own, mischievously swivelling me round and round as my feet dangled helplessly above the floor. 'How do I adjust this blessed chair and how do I make it stay still?' I asked the teacher who was standing there, totally in control, a slightly amused expression on her face as she weighed up this new intake of Oldies. Oh, it was so simple when you knew how!
Then it was pure concentration for the next two hours. Slowly we learned to identify the various parts of the equipment in front of us - mouse, monitor (mm ), VDU, keyboard (would it produce some weird and wonderful musical sounds if I touched it?), hardware, software, (why soft?), floppy disk (it's anything but floppy!), shift key, caps lock. Would I ever absorb it all? We learned to switch on and off. The correct sequence must always be followed. We often got it wrong.
Then came the tests! Brains seized up. Hands froze into immobility. Heads dropped on to the desks. Questions were asked. Why am I putting myself through such torture?
We cried out in frustration. A word of encouragement from the teacher calmed us down. We saw it through.
My old brain isn't as sharp as it used to be but soon I was hooked, addicted, convinced, euphoric, confident enough to want to continue. The dust accumulated at home. The pile of clothes waiting to be ironed mounted. What of it? There are better things in life than housework!
Then I heard about Real Life Stories. On my college computer I found the site www.toowrite.com and I printed the details about entering. I wrote my first story by hand. My sister typed it on her old Olivetti typewriter. The ribbon ran out and we had to wait till one of us was near a shop that stocked that particular ribbon. Back and forth the document travelled until all the amendments were satisfactorily completed.
In the next competition I thought, 'Why not be brave and attempt an entry in Microsoft Word?'
I spent many hours in the college study centre, slowly entering the words. I'd have written it by hand in half the time! I saved the file on a floppy disk and printed a copy. It didn't look too bad for a first, unaided attempt. I posted it and several more stories followed. In the next competition I said to myself, 'I believe I'm ready to e-mail this entry.' My confidence was fast increasing.
The college blocked the e-mail so I was back to posting. Then, in August, Anna treated us to a new computer. What a wonderful surprise! I couldn't believe that I'd come so far in seven months. Now I was on my own with no tutor close by waiting to help. I e-mailed my next story and, miracle of miracles, Nicola received it and sent me several e-mails in return. I was over the moon! Everyone I met in town that day heard about it! After a few hiccups I was getting the hang of e-mailing attachments. Then, Nicola asked if I could e-mail a story I'd previously sent by post. This was a new challenge. The saved file was on my college floppy disk. How would I transfer it to my home computer? Somehow, I managed. I don't quite know how!
The possibilities are legion. One day, I stood and watched in utter amazement as Anna sent and received e-mails to and from her Catalonian friend who was on Mt Everest, waiting near Hillary's Steps for a break in the weather before making a final push to the summit. Previously, Ferran had always phoned by satellite. At home, I connected to the Internet to monitor his progress. In 1995 when he and Anna were together on the mountain, I couldn't have done this!
One day, recently, I read in my newspaper that five Spanish climbers had been hit by an avalanche on Mt Pumori, and were feared dead. Oh, no! I was frantic with worry. Was Ferran among them? He climbs in that area. Anna was out in the desert in Namibia. I searched the Internet for news but found nothing. The phone rang. It was Ferran. A thousand emotions swept over me. I fired question after question at Ferran. 'Is it really you, Ferran? Are you on the mountain? Did anyone die?'
Ferran was surprised that I'd known about the tragedy. He was in Barcelona. He told me that all five had perished. My legs were shaking and a deep gloom descended on me. I recalled the time, in 1995, that an avalanche had killed Xavier, Ferran's and Anna's friend, a tragedy that unites them forever. I didn't dare voice my fears. Ferran wanted to contact Anna. She would be out of touch for a week. I asked Ferran for his e-mail address so that I could e-mail Anna's new addresses to him.
It's been wonderful, too, following Anna's Adventure Race teams' progress. Sometimes I'm reading the accounts of races like the Scottish Adrenalin Rush while the team is still in the mountains racing. At one stage I knew that her team was well in the lead while they weren't sure if anyone had passed them while they snatched a short sleep.
Following live coverage of the Southern Traverse Adventure Race, which took place in New Zealand, 9th-17th of November, was truly exciting. Anna raced on Team Alstom with Sir Ranulph Fiennes and two others. As I monitored their progress, I knew when and where Anna and Steven withdrew, leaving their fellow team members to continue unranked. Anna was seriously ill, a bitter disappointment to everyone. Only 11 teams out of 60 successfully completed the course in ranked positions and had she not been taken ill, her team would have been among them. She had never before failed to complete a race.
I couldn't, at first, access the videos that were available on the Web site. I immediately enlisted for a new course in College, called Managing your own Computer. During the race week I discovered and eradicated a virus, and installed a brilliant Anti-Virus program. Phew! What a trying time that was!
Now, as I write my story, I wonder why I left it so late to embark on computer studies. Had I forgotten the best lesson my primary school teacher taught me? There is no such word in the English Dictionary as 'can't'. I remember searching for the word till my mother explained what the teacher was saying. The more I learn, the more I realise there is left to learn. Anna spoke wisely when she said that we are never too old to learn! I believe I.m one of what people call the Grey Surfers! It's cool!