The week progresses, marching coldly, erratically towards the weekend. Headcold peaked on sat night and now is the whinging sniffling tail end of sick without any of the dramatic features of earlier. Last night hung *work* in shop window - me precarious on chairs reaching up fastidiuously tying string, bossa nova on the stereo and tall dark handsome (more winsome) cafe boys busily attending to whatever cafe boys attend to when the doors are closed and customers gone. Under the music enjoying the full comfortable silence of busy people concentrating on the task at hand and also breathing out in relief at the end of the working day, relaxing and expanding to fill the space of the night to come. Me enjoying standing in a window for the exhibitionist quality of sharing my bend and stretch with the street, with the boy in the beanie who I steadfastly ignored - ignoring in a way that could never be casual and is as pointed as attention ever was. Such a nice time of night as the light fades and inside glows in comparison. And then, as if by a sudden exhalation of the building which is also clearing itself of the day's debris, we gust out onto the street propelled in different directions towards whatever comes next.

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And.. my dear friends I never meant you when I talked about lost books and life crap! I consider our bookshelves sub-branches of the same library. I meant the other kind of lost - like leant to casual acquaintances in a fit of generosity warranted neither by their character nor by the circumstances of our (little r) relationship, like left on trains, like left in other cities as a function of crap packing skills. But I plan to be getting more roomy accomodation soon (a few weeks type of soon) and any items you want to return will happily be repatriated now or then. And the chaise lounge! Yes, I do plan to take that off your hands one day - love that scarlet cordurouy...and very good for day lounging with a cup of tea. Do you think I can sneak it on as hand luggage if I put it in a Duty Free bag?

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Oh dear, I'm a terrible person. I skipped choir because i was getting drunk on free champagne (no no not drunk, tipsy) at the launch of an art thing, and mingling (of course mingling) and enjoying being part of a local town for local people, and I was just do warm and happy watching all the cute people get their cute prizes and everyone all mountainy and brown, woolly, not a gloss blonde bob in sight. So now? Maybe I can hum the words on saturday when the choir performs and I don't know the song??