Post-match report
Oct. 21st, 2011 09:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceSo I stressed myself beautifully this afternoon over packing books into bags, but I did clear about twelve feet of shelving, which is, um. Not that much. I think I have 600 feet in this house?
Anyway. Many bags of books. And then Val came by in the Land Rover, to take me and books to the Lit & Phil; and suddenly everything was very much nicer because she's one of those high-achievers who nevertheless have that gift of making you relax around them. Also, she gives great gig, for the audience and her interrogator both. Really I'm redundant, but it's a very pleasant form of redundancy, sitting and chatting with an old friend and catching questions from the audience and like that.
And we were painted! I don't think I've been painted before. Emma was up in the gallery, and produced a painting of us doing gig in library in very little more time than the gig itself demanded. 'Straordinary. Other people's art...
And now I am back, and Mac has given up trying to persuade me that I forgot to feed 'em before I left (I did not do that; they had Early Tea), but Barry hung around the kitchen in hopes, and I was spooning sauce into a pan and looked down at him just as I was chasing a mushroom with the ladle, and I said, "Baz, it's a mushroom, you're not the one who likes mushrooms..." And he just looked at me, and then I remembered the two pounds of beef that had also gone into the sauce, and yeah. Like that.
But I haven't had a drink all day, I suddenly realise. Hmm. Quick tot of whisky before bed? I am ill, y'know...
Anyway. Many bags of books. And then Val came by in the Land Rover, to take me and books to the Lit & Phil; and suddenly everything was very much nicer because she's one of those high-achievers who nevertheless have that gift of making you relax around them. Also, she gives great gig, for the audience and her interrogator both. Really I'm redundant, but it's a very pleasant form of redundancy, sitting and chatting with an old friend and catching questions from the audience and like that.
And we were painted! I don't think I've been painted before. Emma was up in the gallery, and produced a painting of us doing gig in library in very little more time than the gig itself demanded. 'Straordinary. Other people's art...
And now I am back, and Mac has given up trying to persuade me that I forgot to feed 'em before I left (I did not do that; they had Early Tea), but Barry hung around the kitchen in hopes, and I was spooning sauce into a pan and looked down at him just as I was chasing a mushroom with the ladle, and I said, "Baz, it's a mushroom, you're not the one who likes mushrooms..." And he just looked at me, and then I remembered the two pounds of beef that had also gone into the sauce, and yeah. Like that.
But I haven't had a drink all day, I suddenly realise. Hmm. Quick tot of whisky before bed? I am ill, y'know...