So, my birthday this week. Hadn't imagined I would have much chance to celebrate and wasn't organizing anything myself, but as it turned out things fell into my lap. (Or in other words, friends took a hand)
So my longstanding friend Gareth took me out for lunch a couple of days before my birthday, Hadn't seen him in over a year. Indeed I was able to return to him the little bag he left with me when he had to exit from a music festival last summer. Before the birth of his second child. It seemed a very long time ago.
So off I went on what would be the last real scorcher of a day the year. Did a little detour along the city wall just off London Wall - Salters Gardens if you are ever in the vicinity.
Gareth had booked us onto the terrace overlooking Smithfield Market. As ever the man was looking very well.
And then? Well I don't know. I mentioned how much I enjoyed the wine as well as the food? Well Gareth is a big guy, but I am not, well certainly not anymore. So there is over 15 kilos less of me to absorb the drink, and I haven't really drunk anything substantial in nearly 6 months. So. And I am not proud of this at all. I have absolutely no recollection of how I got home. All I know is I woke up on my bed at about 9pm.
And after that I really did not get a night's sleep, having had I guess 5 hours of an afternoon nap!
Wednesday evening I had another invite, but not to go out. Rather to stay in, and watch some live streamed theatre with my friends in Edinburgh, Jae and Kirsty. We watched Faith Healer with among others Michael Sheen. The acting from all three actors was of the very highest order. But to my mind the problem was that this was not a play. It was just a series of monologues. And the story line, such as it was, was very depressing. And it went into a particular Irish genre of people stuck in abusive relationships. Their angst tends to be mis-attributed to depth in my view, when to me it just lacks realism.
Anyway, the view on my screen.
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