We stopped shutting the kitten in my studio at nights, so sleep has been oddly punctuated by half waking up to hear a cat wrassle; something being knocked on the floor; a pounce upon a shifting leg; a purring punctuated by her baby crocodile noise; or just purring.
On monday I went to
tinyjo's, to eat carrion, cut oxfordhacker's hair and discuss the future care of her garden. There's a buddleia, needs teaching a lesson it won't forget, perennials that need lifting and dividing.
On tuesday we discovered that our regular pub had turned off its lights and sprouted an enormous roll-down screen over the window we usually sit in, which was showing football/an advert for more football. We sighed and moved back to the last pub but one, and shortly remembered why we left there. Where next? The Rusty Bicycle? I also waited in for a heating engineer. He turned up two hours late to the wrong address. But, on the bright side, our boiler's OK.
On wednesday I exhausted myself doing a writing session wih some young people, then collapsed in front of Lost Land of the Volcano. Ahh, Papua New Guinea, home of the best birds.
On thursday, we bestirred ourselves and went to a Pindrop Performance (music: quiet, experimental, unusual) at the UPP. We got there too late for the solo oud, but caught a semi-improvised accompaniment to David Lynch's lost slapslick masterpiece, The Cowboy and the Frenchman and a masterful hissy fit from the headliners.
On friday I was busy at work. In the evening, we went round todamiancugley's for wine and pizza and cheapass games.
On Saturday I finished painting the bathroom, did a few hours intinyjo's garden, got round to watching that SF film we'd been meaning too (District 9 -- it's very good), ate udon, and then went to Cellar for F*ckbuttons. We saw them first there ages ago -- I picked up their CD and ranted on at everyone about how great they were. Success has stuck them to the stage -- no more chasing the floor tom through the audience -- but the music is better, I think.
Today I did the big bed injinty's garden. It took a while, but looks good.
On monday I went to
tinyjo's, to eat carrion, cut oxfordhacker's hair and discuss the future care of her garden. There's a buddleia, needs teaching a lesson it won't forget, perennials that need lifting and dividing. On tuesday we discovered that our regular pub had turned off its lights and sprouted an enormous roll-down screen over the window we usually sit in, which was showing football/an advert for more football. We sighed and moved back to the last pub but one, and shortly remembered why we left there. Where next? The Rusty Bicycle? I also waited in for a heating engineer. He turned up two hours late to the wrong address. But, on the bright side, our boiler's OK.
On wednesday I exhausted myself doing a writing session wih some young people, then collapsed in front of Lost Land of the Volcano. Ahh, Papua New Guinea, home of the best birds.
On thursday, we bestirred ourselves and went to a Pindrop Performance (music: quiet, experimental, unusual) at the UPP. We got there too late for the solo oud, but caught a semi-improvised accompaniment to David Lynch's lost slapslick masterpiece, The Cowboy and the Frenchman and a masterful hissy fit from the headliners.
On friday I was busy at work. In the evening, we went round to
damiancugley's for wine and pizza and cheapass games. On Saturday I finished painting the bathroom, did a few hours in
tinyjo's garden, got round to watching that SF film we'd been meaning too (District 9 -- it's very good), ate udon, and then went to Cellar for F*ckbuttons. We saw them first there ages ago -- I picked up their CD and ranted on at everyone about how great they were. Success has stuck them to the stage -- no more chasing the floor tom through the audience -- but the music is better, I think.Today I did the big bed in
jinty's garden. It took a while, but looks good.
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Comments
ohhh I want to hear this, describe :-)