Bookish day
On my own, which I'd not been for a while. Cats sleeping next to each other on the bed. Sky full of one or two crystal snowflakes from time to time, but they were not settling. Went for a short walk, but very cold easterly wind outside that made my eyes ache as I mooched back from town. Lorraine having a good time in Leeds with Sam, and also met his friend Jade, who was chatty and friendly.
Naturally now Lorraine was gone, the freelance work quelled itself, and I spent the morning thinking about the Opera Matt and I are planning. Also two books had arrived from Amazon. Started to read Snow Country by Yasunari Kawabata, which I'd heard reviewed on A good read, a bookish BBC Radio 4 programme lovely stuff so far.
Also reading a chunk from the a book by Nick Mason, who was the drummer in Pink Floyd, called Inside Out, a Personal history of Pink Floyd. which is well written. I love reading all this stuff about zooming up and down the country in Ford Transits, and playing small and often hostile venues, and then cramming back into the van and high-tailing it home.
This along with listening to Quartet for the end of time, a few times, was all I did today. Betty returned home late and freezing. We chatted and watched a bit of TV together, and the first half of Pretty Woman which seems so unbelievably dated. It is a timeless fantasy though: a man reforming a beautiful but fallen woman, and a broke girl catching a handsome millionaire and teaching him how to love and be human. They redeem each other, which is nice.
Naturally now Lorraine was gone, the freelance work quelled itself, and I spent the morning thinking about the Opera Matt and I are planning. Also two books had arrived from Amazon. Started to read Snow Country by Yasunari Kawabata, which I'd heard reviewed on A good read, a bookish BBC Radio 4 programme lovely stuff so far.
Also reading a chunk from the a book by Nick Mason, who was the drummer in Pink Floyd, called Inside Out, a Personal history of Pink Floyd. which is well written. I love reading all this stuff about zooming up and down the country in Ford Transits, and playing small and often hostile venues, and then cramming back into the van and high-tailing it home.
This along with listening to Quartet for the end of time, a few times, was all I did today. Betty returned home late and freezing. We chatted and watched a bit of TV together, and the first half of Pretty Woman which seems so unbelievably dated. It is a timeless fantasy though: a man reforming a beautiful but fallen woman, and a broke girl catching a handsome millionaire and teaching him how to love and be human. They redeem each other, which is nice.
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