Tongue and Groove
Tongue and Groove.
6.22am The Runaway, Lewes Station. Great start to the working week – I have missed the 6.07am train despite getting up at 5.25am. What a cock-up!
On the other hand, it has given me time to look at The Guardian and see that the jobs drought has ended. There are three good jobs in the Media Section, after months of nothing. It is time to make tracks.
I have my smartest (interview) suit on, but am not looking forward to this week. My problems of last week could well turn round and hit me in the face today. Moreover, there is a think-tank in London scheduled for Wednesday, with a ‘PR guru’ and a celebrity involved.
This kind of event is fraught with peril. You can come out of it holed below the waterline – or smelling of roses. Certainly it will need to be my top priority.
Lewes's salsa club SalsaMagic was good last night. I did the lesson (Larry's Cuban steps, having demoted myself to Intermediate Class), and then went upstairs and had a chat on the balcony with Larry and the girls. Made it more sociable. SalsaMagic (pictured) is a great club!
9.04am London Marylebone concourse Chiltern Railways have screwed it up again. Don’t you just love them!
All the trains to Leamington, except the 9.20am, have been cancelled because of signalling issues. They really are beyond a joke. I pity anyone who has to commute on Chiltern on a daily basis.
At this rate, I am unlikely to arrive at the Day-Job before midday.
9.16am London Marylebone – Warwick train. It comprises only two carriages and is packed to the gills. The Chiltern apologist has spoken his weasel words, explaining the reasons behind this particular cock-up.
I am seated next to a text message maniac and opposite an obese man in a Chris Moyles T-shirt. The haddock next to him seemed to blow me a kiss as she sat down. And people tell me life is good!
I need to do some blue skies thinking for the Covent Garden Think Tank. Exhausted, uninspired, challenged by what suffers my eyes, I am frankly not in the right frame of mind.
And we are away! On the Chiltern cattle-truck to God knows where.
This is what I wrote in the rose garden yesterday afternoon:
Lewes Garret. 4.30pm. It is wondrously fragrant out here among the roses with the birds chirping and the sun still hot on the brow.
It has been a good weekend so far. Friday night was superb. I went to the Summer Retro Ball at the All Saints Centre, featuring Tongue and Groove (pictured left). It was an amazing, themed night.
They had organised everything to the most minute detail. They and their gang were the band, the special effects, the food, the prize-givers, the bar, the cocktail bar, the ticket sellers, the chill-out area providers. You name it, they had thought of it.
The good folk of Lewes had turned out in some extraordinary outfits. Big wigs were everywhere as were white suits, psychedelic dresses, hair bands, and flares.
The music played by the band was eclectic. Lots of hippydom with the odd Oasis and Clash number thrown in for good measure. It was a shame we felt too exhausted to do it justice.
I particularly liked the effort the band put into the production. After the interval, for instance, the lead singer appeared outside among the tombstones, wearing just Y-fronts and a pair of ski's, to invite the audience back in.
Anyway, I would thoroughly recommend these dudes.
On Saturday, I watched the Lewes Carnival go by – taking pictures with my 1961 Kodak camera and my Nikon EM (I need the latter to know the exposure for the former), and then went on a tour of the Gundreda chapel at the St Stephen's, and Lewes Priory itself. Very interesting.
Not much of great significance survives of The Priory (mainly the ruins of an old toilet block and servants' accommodation, although, to my surprise, the guide pointed out an almost intact altar from an ancient side-chapel.
I walked over to it and laid my hands on its surface. Extraordinarily I could feel a feel presence there and an image flashed into my mind of it enclosed and candle-lit with the monks chanting or singing Mass in Latin.
I turned to look back at the small group of mainly elderly tourists and that spiritual image was lost.
6.22am The Runaway, Lewes Station. Great start to the working week – I have missed the 6.07am train despite getting up at 5.25am. What a cock-up!
On the other hand, it has given me time to look at The Guardian and see that the jobs drought has ended. There are three good jobs in the Media Section, after months of nothing. It is time to make tracks.I have my smartest (interview) suit on, but am not looking forward to this week. My problems of last week could well turn round and hit me in the face today. Moreover, there is a think-tank in London scheduled for Wednesday, with a ‘PR guru’ and a celebrity involved.
This kind of event is fraught with peril. You can come out of it holed below the waterline – or smelling of roses. Certainly it will need to be my top priority.
Lewes's salsa club SalsaMagic was good last night. I did the lesson (Larry's Cuban steps, having demoted myself to Intermediate Class), and then went upstairs and had a chat on the balcony with Larry and the girls. Made it more sociable. SalsaMagic (pictured) is a great club!9.04am London Marylebone concourse Chiltern Railways have screwed it up again. Don’t you just love them!
All the trains to Leamington, except the 9.20am, have been cancelled because of signalling issues. They really are beyond a joke. I pity anyone who has to commute on Chiltern on a daily basis.
At this rate, I am unlikely to arrive at the Day-Job before midday.
9.16am London Marylebone – Warwick train. It comprises only two carriages and is packed to the gills. The Chiltern apologist has spoken his weasel words, explaining the reasons behind this particular cock-up.
I am seated next to a text message maniac and opposite an obese man in a Chris Moyles T-shirt. The haddock next to him seemed to blow me a kiss as she sat down. And people tell me life is good!
I need to do some blue skies thinking for the Covent Garden Think Tank. Exhausted, uninspired, challenged by what suffers my eyes, I am frankly not in the right frame of mind.
And we are away! On the Chiltern cattle-truck to God knows where.
This is what I wrote in the rose garden yesterday afternoon:
Lewes Garret. 4.30pm. It is wondrously fragrant out here among the roses with the birds chirping and the sun still hot on the brow.
It has been a good weekend so far. Friday night was superb. I went to the Summer Retro Ball at the All Saints Centre, featuring Tongue and Groove (pictured left). It was an amazing, themed night. They had organised everything to the most minute detail. They and their gang were the band, the special effects, the food, the prize-givers, the bar, the cocktail bar, the ticket sellers, the chill-out area providers. You name it, they had thought of it.
The good folk of Lewes had turned out in some extraordinary outfits. Big wigs were everywhere as were white suits, psychedelic dresses, hair bands, and flares.
The music played by the band was eclectic. Lots of hippydom with the odd Oasis and Clash number thrown in for good measure. It was a shame we felt too exhausted to do it justice.
I particularly liked the effort the band put into the production. After the interval, for instance, the lead singer appeared outside among the tombstones, wearing just Y-fronts and a pair of ski's, to invite the audience back in.
Anyway, I would thoroughly recommend these dudes.
On Saturday, I watched the Lewes Carnival go by – taking pictures with my 1961 Kodak camera and my Nikon EM (I need the latter to know the exposure for the former), and then went on a tour of the Gundreda chapel at the St Stephen's, and Lewes Priory itself. Very interesting.
Not much of great significance survives of The Priory (mainly the ruins of an old toilet block and servants' accommodation, although, to my surprise, the guide pointed out an almost intact altar from an ancient side-chapel.
I walked over to it and laid my hands on its surface. Extraordinarily I could feel a feel presence there and an image flashed into my mind of it enclosed and candle-lit with the monks chanting or singing Mass in Latin. I turned to look back at the small group of mainly elderly tourists and that spiritual image was lost.
Labels: Lewes, Lewes Station, London Marylebone, London Victoria, Oliver's Poetry, poetry, Tongue and Groove, Ugandan Affairs
posted by Ollie at
12:55 pm
2 Comments:
Do you commute this distance every day? It's got to be tiring. Even London to Reading would put me off.
Oliver replied:
No, I do it on a weekly basis, hence the two garrets. Doing every day would be far, far too much for me, Olivia.
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