Friller
Hideous nightmares: tsunamis.
After breakfast was taken by Beth with Lorraine to Masquerade Costumes. Here for half an hour or so tried on various clothes, under the tutelage of a decisive woman called Jessica. Dressing for This Concert -- a Victorian theme so a black jacket with tails, a Top Hat with purple lace, and whorl of purple frills around my neck, and some species of purple cummerbund. This seemed to me to be an appalling gut sling, but the others seemed to think it was okay.
I was wearing light chinos at the time, and was handed a pair of black trousers to see how much better I'd look in black. These were black Lycra dancing pants, into which I dutifully changed. I glanced at myself in the mirror, top hatted, befrilled and puffed up, with nastily crotch hugging stretchy black stuff, and thin legs dangling below. When I opened the cubical door, Lorraine
, Beth and Jessica greeted the Max Wall spectacle with quite a lot of laughter.
However, the lady in the shop is going to come to the show, put a poster up in the shop, and will give us a discount, which is all a result.
L and I back to my house to feed Calliope. Then an SOS call from John to go to the Basketmakers. Matt was supposed to be in Edinburgh, as one of his oldest friends was getting married and he was best man, and had written the wedding theme. He got the first train out of Brighton to go to Gatwick, on board were a gang of crazed lads who were starting fights. They were about to attack the ticket conductor when Matt intervened and got punched hard in the sternum and completely winded. Someone pulled the emergency cord and spoke to the driver. The train then stopped at the nearest station, was boarded by the police. Matt and others got off to give statements, and receive medical treatment. The thugs all arrested. But this meant that Matt missed his plane to Scotland by five minutes. Shaken he then zoomed up to Kings Cross in London, getting a taxi across London to try to get a train to be there in time for the wedding, and missed this by minutes too.
Somewhat shaken, he arrived back in the Basketmakers where he was given a whiskey on the house. John, Lorraine and I whiled away Saturday afternoon with him. Matt soon in good spirits, despite his ordeal. Evening spent snoozing on the gold sofa with Lorraine.
Below the cosy and healing interior of The Basketmakers Arms on a Saturday afternoon.
Hideous nightmares: tsunamis.
After breakfast was taken by Beth with Lorraine to Masquerade Costumes. Here for half an hour or so tried on various clothes, under the tutelage of a decisive woman called Jessica. Dressing for This Concert -- a Victorian theme so a black jacket with tails, a Top Hat with purple lace, and whorl of purple frills around my neck, and some species of purple cummerbund. This seemed to me to be an appalling gut sling, but the others seemed to think it was okay.
I was wearing light chinos at the time, and was handed a pair of black trousers to see how much better I'd look in black. These were black Lycra dancing pants, into which I dutifully changed. I glanced at myself in the mirror, top hatted, befrilled and puffed up, with nastily crotch hugging stretchy black stuff, and thin legs dangling below. When I opened the cubical door, Lorraine
, Beth and Jessica greeted the Max Wall spectacle with quite a lot of laughter.However, the lady in the shop is going to come to the show, put a poster up in the shop, and will give us a discount, which is all a result.
L and I back to my house to feed Calliope. Then an SOS call from John to go to the Basketmakers. Matt was supposed to be in Edinburgh, as one of his oldest friends was getting married and he was best man, and had written the wedding theme. He got the first train out of Brighton to go to Gatwick, on board were a gang of crazed lads who were starting fights. They were about to attack the ticket conductor when Matt intervened and got punched hard in the sternum and completely winded. Someone pulled the emergency cord and spoke to the driver. The train then stopped at the nearest station, was boarded by the police. Matt and others got off to give statements, and receive medical treatment. The thugs all arrested. But this meant that Matt missed his plane to Scotland by five minutes. Shaken he then zoomed up to Kings Cross in London, getting a taxi across London to try to get a train to be there in time for the wedding, and missed this by minutes too.
Somewhat shaken, he arrived back in the Basketmakers where he was given a whiskey on the house. John, Lorraine and I whiled away Saturday afternoon with him. Matt soon in good spirits, despite his ordeal. Evening spent snoozing on the gold sofa with Lorraine.
Below the cosy and healing interior of The Basketmakers Arms on a Saturday afternoon.
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