A Guernsey moot
Lorraine up early and off to the airport. No fog today, which was a boon. I made my way downstairs and tucked into a full Guernsey breakfast, then went for a walk for a couple of hours. Leaving some flowers at the Grandparent's grave, I'd bought them from Brouard's on Saints Road, which has been there a good deal longer than I have. Noticed Sadie's (my Grandparent's sister-in-law) gravestone had been added since I was last there.
Then I collected my case from the hotel and bussed into town, meeting Catriona and Richard in Hojos. Catriona always makes me feel cheery for some reason, and not just because she bought five of our books. Some exciting stuff in the Guernsey pipeline. After, R and I mooched into town, where we had a meeting with a man in a bank, who had strong opinions about literature.
The evening given over to Le Vieux Marché in Saumarez Park. About five and a half thousand people attended, and a good deal of creaky Guernsey dancing, queuing for local cider, paper cartons of bean jar, gâche and other local delicacies. Being with Richard was an education, as every other person seemed to know him. As the cider got to work, I felt impeccable, and enjoyed Punch and Judy, and browsing among books and chatting to one and all.
Off to Cobo for a Hobbit's second supper, to eat fish and chips in addition to the carton of bean jar, and watch the sun go down in a almost cloudless sky, the disc shape discernible until it slid into the water, thinking of Richard's poem in which he compares the sun to the fat diva singing her final aria in a "wondrous final scene", which all three enjoyed a great deal. Then Jane drove her car home, and Richard and I followed in the van brooding enjoyably about mortality, sunsets and twilight.
Below maypole dancers, crown and anchor, vats of bean jar, Jane and me eating fish and chips at Cobo. The sunset.
Lorraine up early and off to the airport. No fog today, which was a boon. I made my way downstairs and tucked into a full Guernsey breakfast, then went for a walk for a couple of hours. Leaving some flowers at the Grandparent's grave, I'd bought them from Brouard's on Saints Road, which has been there a good deal longer than I have. Noticed Sadie's (my Grandparent's sister-in-law) gravestone had been added since I was last there.
Then I collected my case from the hotel and bussed into town, meeting Catriona and Richard in Hojos. Catriona always makes me feel cheery for some reason, and not just because she bought five of our books. Some exciting stuff in the Guernsey pipeline. After, R and I mooched into town, where we had a meeting with a man in a bank, who had strong opinions about literature.
The evening given over to Le Vieux Marché in Saumarez Park. About five and a half thousand people attended, and a good deal of creaky Guernsey dancing, queuing for local cider, paper cartons of bean jar, gâche and other local delicacies. Being with Richard was an education, as every other person seemed to know him. As the cider got to work, I felt impeccable, and enjoyed Punch and Judy, and browsing among books and chatting to one and all.
Off to Cobo for a Hobbit's second supper, to eat fish and chips in addition to the carton of bean jar, and watch the sun go down in a almost cloudless sky, the disc shape discernible until it slid into the water, thinking of Richard's poem in which he compares the sun to the fat diva singing her final aria in a "wondrous final scene", which all three enjoyed a great deal. Then Jane drove her car home, and Richard and I followed in the van brooding enjoyably about mortality, sunsets and twilight.
Below maypole dancers, crown and anchor, vats of bean jar, Jane and me eating fish and chips at Cobo. The sunset.
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