Sunday, November 20, 2005


There’s a wonderful poem by Simon Armitage - Shrove Tuesday, from his second collection, Kid; go on, buy it buy it buy it, and then don’t forget to read it too - which includes the words:

“I must have looked for all the world like that lost, knocked-sideways, bowled-over girl who, at odds of more than a hundred-thousand-million to one, had come so far but never dropped across the word or the idea of snow.”

It’s a thought that often plays on my mind, and Girlfriend’s too, who can recite the poem from memory, and frequently likes to remind me how she discovered Simon Armitage when he was still a social worker working in a cocktail bar, as it were.

I was reminded of it one evening last week, when I discovered that Canoeing Instructor had never dropped across the word or idea of Sudoku. What must be the chances of that?
So for her birthday on Friday we bought her a book of the pesky little puzzles, and a map and compass as well, just in case.
It was a good night, and all your favourite blog characters and many more were in attendance.

Charlie is grappling with that most perplexing of modern girl’s dilemmas - whether to spend her hard earned on a sofa or Buffy DVDs.
Leanne seems a little too confident about our impending 3 card brag weekend, but I reckon she’s just getting her bluffing in early.
Juggling Protégé can get more stuff into his car than he’d ever imagined, Fairly Famous Actor revealed he once worked with someone off The Archers, Long Tall Wanda didn’t thump me once, and Canoeing Instructor needs to double check before committing pen to paper.

Today me and Girlfriend had a stroll to the pub in a neighbouring town. The tide was high and there were sailing boats on the estuary. For a short while the light was soft and muted and kind of spooky, much like myself of course. I like The Taps because they serve guest beers that you’ve never previously heard of, and they never play music. We pondered it’s suitability for a blogmeet venue.

It was quieter than last weekend, when we saw The White Stripes, promising indie hopefuls The Wedding Present, and the sublime, life enhancingly beautiful Icelandic noiseniks Sigur Rós in ear splittingly rapid succession. We met up with my friend Steve for The Weddoes, which was great, and had tea with Juggling Protégé before Sigur Rós, so it was sociable as well as deafening.

We even managed to take in some white emulsion paint being passed through a central heating system in the name of art, at The Lowry. It was good, but how much would I have liked to drop a bottle of Quink into the tank just for the fun of it?
We also saw Tracey Emin’s Bed, Damien Hurst’s Shark, and Loyd Grossman having his tea.

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