Waterproof
Pouring rain all night and day. Woke up periodically during the night to the sound of rain falling on Lorraine's Veluxe windows. I love the sound of rain falling on glass when you are safe and warm. Goes back to the long glasshouse attached to the back of my grandparents house in Guernsey. I loved being in there. It was full of the distinct smell of geranium leaves, and the patter of rain on the glass was like music. Occasionally, when a pane or two needed replacing, strategically placed buckets collected plinking drips too, which added to the effect.
Anton and I decided against a long walk. Those country tracks turn into the Somme after ten hours of steady downpour. Instead Anton and I went shopping for a new anorak. My previous one now readily absorbs water instead of repels it for reasons I don't quite understand. I may have cleaned mud off it with a cloth impregnated with detergent. These hi-tech fabrics are temperamental. Naturally Anton knew the places to go, but unfortunately was snared by the sight of some walking shoes that are put into an oven to soften up, and then you walk about in the hot shoes for ten minutes or so until they mould perfectly to your feet.
I bought a black waterproof and a proper breathable fleece for walking. Then we popped into the Trafalgar for a cheeky beer, before Anton clambered up the hill home. It was really nice to see him, and I am feeling keen for walking again now the knee from hell is functioning again.
I then moved down to The Basketmakers where I met Matt for more beer and discussions. We have pencilled in recording of our CD for July, this will include This concert will fall in love with you, plus Found and In praise of music, two choral pieces Matt's used my words for, plus settings of my poems Clameur and The boy who fell upwards. This is unbelievably exciting, and I am going to seek out some vocal coaching to ensure my performance of This concert is something I can live with when it's recorded. Much excitable talking about this, and then simple gossip. Lorraine came and collected me, and we bought some bad fish and chips, to round of a disasterous diet day, before I boofed out on the sofa and slept till bedtime.
Pouring rain all night and day. Woke up periodically during the night to the sound of rain falling on Lorraine's Veluxe windows. I love the sound of rain falling on glass when you are safe and warm. Goes back to the long glasshouse attached to the back of my grandparents house in Guernsey. I loved being in there. It was full of the distinct smell of geranium leaves, and the patter of rain on the glass was like music. Occasionally, when a pane or two needed replacing, strategically placed buckets collected plinking drips too, which added to the effect.
Anton and I decided against a long walk. Those country tracks turn into the Somme after ten hours of steady downpour. Instead Anton and I went shopping for a new anorak. My previous one now readily absorbs water instead of repels it for reasons I don't quite understand. I may have cleaned mud off it with a cloth impregnated with detergent. These hi-tech fabrics are temperamental. Naturally Anton knew the places to go, but unfortunately was snared by the sight of some walking shoes that are put into an oven to soften up, and then you walk about in the hot shoes for ten minutes or so until they mould perfectly to your feet.
I bought a black waterproof and a proper breathable fleece for walking. Then we popped into the Trafalgar for a cheeky beer, before Anton clambered up the hill home. It was really nice to see him, and I am feeling keen for walking again now the knee from hell is functioning again.
I then moved down to The Basketmakers where I met Matt for more beer and discussions. We have pencilled in recording of our CD for July, this will include This concert will fall in love with you, plus Found and In praise of music, two choral pieces Matt's used my words for, plus settings of my poems Clameur and The boy who fell upwards. This is unbelievably exciting, and I am going to seek out some vocal coaching to ensure my performance of This concert is something I can live with when it's recorded. Much excitable talking about this, and then simple gossip. Lorraine came and collected me, and we bought some bad fish and chips, to round of a disasterous diet day, before I boofed out on the sofa and slept till bedtime.
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