A face by the river
Something about walking in the back door of my old agency's building is horrible, and made me feel momentarily as if leaving was just a happy dream. Bumped into a couple of former colleagues who'd been told lots of redundancies are in the offing. Very happy to have resigned 15 months ago, and be well out of it: just another face by the river.
My day was tolerable, but slow. Had a laugh with Betsy about things such as baloney sandwiches. Was delighted to head off for home. Yet another nightmare. Left Victoria at 6:15 and arrived at Brighton three hours later (usual journey time about 1hr 10m). And I was on the fast Gatwick Express. Tedious beyond belief. The driver was told to reverse the train back down the track at one point, and had to walk the length of the train, only have to return to the front cabin a bit later. Poor guy.
I finished The Secret Scripture by Sebastian Barry. The big plot twist at the end was obvious from about a third of the way into it. But this wasn't a problem, as it was a painfully lyrical and moving book. I'd heartily recommend it. It won the Costa award, but the judges said it won despite being flawed, presumably by this ending - and apparently some of them didn't like one of the two narrator's voices (which I didn't agree with at all). Read it.
Anyhow eventually arrived home. Lorraine had let herself into my house and arriving home to see her and Caliope sitting on my sofa, made all well again. Out then for a much-needed beer and a curry at the usual place.
Below the cover for the scaffolding covering a church not far from the office, and a billboard eye, which looks at me on the desk I have been sitting at; a lovely little stencilled face I discovered on a lunchtime stroll by the Thames.
Something about walking in the back door of my old agency's building is horrible, and made me feel momentarily as if leaving was just a happy dream. Bumped into a couple of former colleagues who'd been told lots of redundancies are in the offing. Very happy to have resigned 15 months ago, and be well out of it: just another face by the river.
My day was tolerable, but slow. Had a laugh with Betsy about things such as baloney sandwiches. Was delighted to head off for home. Yet another nightmare. Left Victoria at 6:15 and arrived at Brighton three hours later (usual journey time about 1hr 10m). And I was on the fast Gatwick Express. Tedious beyond belief. The driver was told to reverse the train back down the track at one point, and had to walk the length of the train, only have to return to the front cabin a bit later. Poor guy.
I finished The Secret Scripture by Sebastian Barry. The big plot twist at the end was obvious from about a third of the way into it. But this wasn't a problem, as it was a painfully lyrical and moving book. I'd heartily recommend it. It won the Costa award, but the judges said it won despite being flawed, presumably by this ending - and apparently some of them didn't like one of the two narrator's voices (which I didn't agree with at all). Read it.
Anyhow eventually arrived home. Lorraine had let herself into my house and arriving home to see her and Caliope sitting on my sofa, made all well again. Out then for a much-needed beer and a curry at the usual place.
Below the cover for the scaffolding covering a church not far from the office, and a billboard eye, which looks at me on the desk I have been sitting at; a lovely little stencilled face I discovered on a lunchtime stroll by the Thames.
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