Two entries in week? Yeah, why not. Thanks for the lovely, off-wordpress comments from various folks about the previous entry. I wrote it dry-eyed and then got terribly emotional after the fact, though as my dad said (about me taking so long to realise what they offered): Taking ages is good; it’s forgetting that’s the sin.
This is a quick one. I’m writing it on the train back to London having spent the past 24-hours or so in Newcastle.
Continue reading “Up North: a general lack of grimness”
I’ve been endlessly playing catch-up with my home and work life, never quite catching the will-o-the-wisp that is a completed To Do list and a clear mind. There have been brief respites (swimming at Brockwell Lido, no wetsuit, determined to develop into one of those double-hard winter swimmers (even as the sun continues to shine). Meeting up with friends. Meeting Sophie the sheep in Herne Hill – a woolly cutie who’s in training to be a movie star and wears a tiara) – but mostly it’s all been do do do, not sleeping, not writing, just about getting through the day. There’s been the odd purple day (that’s a day when the blues and the mean reds get together and throw a party just outside the blanket that I hide under when they come visiting). It’s been wearing. Continue reading “Launches, pretty things and anti-romance”