Yes Essex!
Calliope sitting on me as I lay in bed, started craning her head up like a meerkat. The sound of feet on the roof, but instead of a gull, I saw a rat through the velux windows. Lorraine and I lay in bed shuddering and vowing never to open the windows again. Another fit of poetry, and I am simply giving into it. Lorraine shopping, after one of her pals had called by in the morning. Some of what Lorraine is shopping for is birthday presents for me, an endevour only to be encouraged. Off to wildest Essex this evening listening to the new album by Lorraine-favourites Mumford and Sons as she drove. Through the Dartford tunnel (a long deep tunnel under the Thames full of hurtling metal cars - what's not to love?) to Lorraine's pals Leslie and Jeremy, who were having a party for Leslie's birthday. Both play in a brass band, and they have musical children too, with their son being an accomplished trombonist. Once in Essex (which I barely know other than it is the world capita...