Thursday, 13 September 2012

The 'Quiet' Nights

I noticed today that Contrary Towers has been quiet. That sentence has just produced a hollow chuckle. Are we ever quiet? It turns out that that only time we're silent on here is when we're so busy we haven't allowed our elegantly clad feet to touch the ground. Or filling our calendars with things to do to brighten the dark chill evenings to come.

As an aside, I recently had a momentary crisis of confidence which knocked me sideways and sent me scurrying for the nearest pillow under which to hide. So I've been quite gentle on myself and have done a stack of novel reading. I can recommend The Discovery of Witches and reckon I could give the heroine a run for her money in a 'magical twitchy nose making things happen' competition. I demonstrated this the other evening and as I nose twitched, to our giggles, my phone lit up with several messages and tweets. To be fair and for the avoidance of superstitious woo, I don't have to do anything for that to happen... 

During this quiet time I was lured out irresistibly to the Space outside the National Theatre. A lovely friend had supplied a savoury muffin and a pint of cider and we sat and watched Sirens and it was most entertaining. So apart from that, after a homely week of knitting at home, we were ready for some culture 'n' sparkles. We enjoyed an evening of erotic metamorphosic violence at the National Gallery and then we had a moment of 'I wonder if there is any dirty jazz on anywhere?' This could have ended badly but contrarily we came home. 


Ok so we hit the VC and chatted into the starry night. We also realised we knew nothing about sleazy jazz. This needs research and a plan if we are going to find something appropriate. 

What the actual...?! 

So we are open to offers on that score. 

After a day of cooking Clare's special lasagna (with added dirty sausage) and a slab of choc/orange brownie on Saturday, my friend and I headed off to the Southbank again. We spent much of the evening admiring the city lights from the Thames beaches. 

This tranquility was due to come to a fabulous end as the rest of the weekend saw an invasion of small people. And despite being child unfriendly, these little lovelies belong to oldest friends so they are more than welcome. The eldest is shaping up to have excellent CT  inmate potential with a charming smile, a whimsical mind, indecisive yet winning ways and a knowing insistence regarding holding hands with pretty ladies. 

There is a definite sense of a 'new term' at CT. Hope your pencils and wit are sharpened...because I'm raring to go.

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