TV in a rainstorm
A taxi this morning to take me to Simon's house, as the rain was falling heavily again - set to be the pattern for the rest of the summer apparently. A really nice taxi driver, however, who had a passion for steam engines and other hand-built objects such as wooden barrels. I've not personally lain awake with my mind racing over the features of hand made barrels, but his excitement and interest were infectious.
I spent the day with Simon working at his house, as the rain dripped persistently outside. We were working on a branding exercise again. More spreading sheets on the floor and pages of mind maps. Although it was a complicated project we worked fairly painlessly and productively through it. We also had a little time about another project, once the branding work was done.
Caught a bus back home and walked up Trafalgar street, feeling simultaneously hungry and spewy. The tiring queasy bug seems to have returned. Lorraine had it back at the weekend too. It's not too bad, but just enough to make things draggy and arduous.
Home and, after eating, felt better for a bit. Lorraine called around after visiting the chiropractor and we watched the excellent Tribal Wives (you can click through to see the programme on the BBC iPlayer). It's a great format, which gives you the untold half of the story: about the tribe from a woman's perspective. This week a woman stayed with the Himba tribe of Namibia. Apparently a very cheery people, but here was what seemed a distressing scene of a twelve or thirteen year old girl being dragged off to be married. However it transpired that she would be returned home to finish growing up before she actually lived with her husband - and that marriages weren't necessarily for life.
When Lorraine left, we noticed that the television had gone from the twitten. I regret not taking a photo of it now, as there was something slightly David Lynch about it. Especially as it still had its plug. One of those enormous box like TVs, tuned to nothing in a rainy twitten.
A taxi this morning to take me to Simon's house, as the rain was falling heavily again - set to be the pattern for the rest of the summer apparently. A really nice taxi driver, however, who had a passion for steam engines and other hand-built objects such as wooden barrels. I've not personally lain awake with my mind racing over the features of hand made barrels, but his excitement and interest were infectious.
I spent the day with Simon working at his house, as the rain dripped persistently outside. We were working on a branding exercise again. More spreading sheets on the floor and pages of mind maps. Although it was a complicated project we worked fairly painlessly and productively through it. We also had a little time about another project, once the branding work was done.
Caught a bus back home and walked up Trafalgar street, feeling simultaneously hungry and spewy. The tiring queasy bug seems to have returned. Lorraine had it back at the weekend too. It's not too bad, but just enough to make things draggy and arduous.
Home and, after eating, felt better for a bit. Lorraine called around after visiting the chiropractor and we watched the excellent Tribal Wives (you can click through to see the programme on the BBC iPlayer). It's a great format, which gives you the untold half of the story: about the tribe from a woman's perspective. This week a woman stayed with the Himba tribe of Namibia. Apparently a very cheery people, but here was what seemed a distressing scene of a twelve or thirteen year old girl being dragged off to be married. However it transpired that she would be returned home to finish growing up before she actually lived with her husband - and that marriages weren't necessarily for life.
When Lorraine left, we noticed that the television had gone from the twitten. I regret not taking a photo of it now, as there was something slightly David Lynch about it. Especially as it still had its plug. One of those enormous box like TVs, tuned to nothing in a rainy twitten.
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