Saturday, July 09, 2005

Castle, manly and contacts.

1. Fenella and Andy took me to see the castle where they are having their wedding reception. It is a private home and has a winter garden (conservatory to you and me) full of tender vines and a library with dark carvings that look like they might click open to reveal a secret cupboard containing a will and evidence of the young hero's legitimacy. Upstairs is a pink and green flowery room for the bride to use if she wants to dab at her make-up, change into her travelling dress or have a little cry when she feels overcome. It has a bathroom en suite through an archway - no door because this is a properly posh house. Outside there is a manicured law, finishing with a ha ha for amusing drunks to fall over. There is also a walled kitchen garden, complete with decaying hothouses, growing nothing but grass and weeds.

2. One of my mates has over the last few years been somewhat emotionally constipated. Last night in the pub I spotted him dabbing away a little tear with the edge of his shirt.

3. Discovering that one of the writers is a friend of a friend.

Done, moon and Irish fairy tales.

1. A meeting that is over by 9.30am. 2. A big full moon is stuck on next door's chimney pots. 3. By my bed is a large and comforting boo...