Sunday, 9 November 2003


Bowled away

In the front room of a Cotswold farm.
Behind me: a slowly smoldering fire.
Around me: a dozen faithful friends.

This weekend's unrushed. We met at the Five Mile Inn for a lunchtime prologue. The afternoon's short walk extended beyond its expected hour, but the luxury of talking with friends whose company is usually only held during frantic festival meetings dissolved the time and the tiredness.

Laurel and Hardy

The alarming news is that I'm told I look great in a Bowler. No, that's just weird; alarming was the thought I might be moving on from my Radar nick-name to another film character.

This evening: down to business. Key decisions and strategies about Greenbelt's future. Laughter, frustrations and decisions in equal measures. "Two shots of happy, one shot of sad" as Pip has taken to saying.

Working 'till nearly midnight, then drifting from one to another, so many lives to catch up on.

Posted by pab at 02:07