Back to the Basketmakers
Off in the afternoon by bus into town. Sprang onto the bus, which proceeded ten metres along the road before breaking down. Eventually into town where I went with Lorraine into C&H fabrics for fabric, including the stuffing for a draft-excluding snake. Then into M&S and another shop with a ridiculous name and an incredibly bored looking man selling coffees to look at bras.
Luckily after this kind of thing, there was the Basketmakers to look forward to where we met Matt and Irish Tom and Bryn for a cheeky few beers and a bite to eat. Betty also joined us after work, before shooting off to see Laura. Sitting at a nearby table was three of the barbers in the shop I go to, who greeted me cheerily. Rather good fun to be in The Baskets again, and to see Matt who had been working on an allotment all day. If it's not about allotments Matt's not interested. He was talking so much about the allotment that I found it hard to interject to tell him about my garden. We used to talk about poetry and composers. Now it's all plants and mulch.
Lorraine and I home by cab and spilled out onto the sofa, where we watched the parade of nonsense that is The Eurovision Song Contest, who have for some years has maintained that Israel in Europe, and has now added Australia. The UK were third last, but I've only heard about thirty seconds of their song which seemed traditionally dire. And so to bed.
Luckily after this kind of thing, there was the Basketmakers to look forward to where we met Matt and Irish Tom and Bryn for a cheeky few beers and a bite to eat. Betty also joined us after work, before shooting off to see Laura. Sitting at a nearby table was three of the barbers in the shop I go to, who greeted me cheerily. Rather good fun to be in The Baskets again, and to see Matt who had been working on an allotment all day. If it's not about allotments Matt's not interested. He was talking so much about the allotment that I found it hard to interject to tell him about my garden. We used to talk about poetry and composers. Now it's all plants and mulch.
Lorraine and I home by cab and spilled out onto the sofa, where we watched the parade of nonsense that is The Eurovision Song Contest, who have for some years has maintained that Israel in Europe, and has now added Australia. The UK were third last, but I've only heard about thirty seconds of their song which seemed traditionally dire. And so to bed.
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