i’m worth a million in prizes…
And the month has flown again, even without the help of the clocks going forward at the weekend (and true to form I forgot to change my old radio-alarm one until it was far too late and didn’t get up on Sunday until it was past 11 o’clock and thankfully, almost lunchtime). Twice this week I’ve left for home at gone 7pm and it’s been at least lightish – happy days!
Not masses to report from HQ; decorating (home and flat) continues as much as the rather-less-quiet-than-usual of March has allowed and I’ll be cracking on with some more new pictures as soon as I can be sure I’ve got all the paint off – yay! Inbetween the day to day pottering about I’ve had an unexpected trip to the Spa Theatre to see the ever-disarming (and very funny) Ross Noble – who I last ran into at FrightFest back in 2012, I think – courtesy of a kindly and equally disarming visitor (I not only got a night out but also an excuse for a ride on the cliff lift) the accounts are nearly done, London beckons shortly and relative peace with proper tea, home made brownies (pic above, recipe available) and muchas binge watching of ER will be the order of the day in the meantime.
The bustle of Waterloo will be more than enough to wake me up after the relative sedateness of Pimlico, plus this time I will be about until the usual late morning and thankfully without the dawn dash home, even if it did afford me another lovely picture of the recently-tarted-up Scala before my train. It’s always good to be back on the South Bank although I’ll be hopefully better prepared than last time (example Amazon Fire box: check, HDMI cable: check, remote control: oops). I may have to start making better lists.
Easter will be upon us before we know it, and despite my being away for the first half I will be back for business as usual the following week before heading off to Edinburgh for Dead By Dawn on the 20th – my first horror festival of the year and my enduring favourite despite the sometimes inclement weather and necessary four days of living on Meal Deals, bananas and the annual first night trip to the Nando’s over the road for peri peri chicken and iffy sangria. I say it every year, but it’s well worth remembering that the traffic into Scarborough is worse during Easter week than any other time I know (possibly since I’m always at FrightFest over the August Bank Holiday weekend) so appropriate forward planning is the order of the day. Not even thinking about it and getting the train would be my advice.
Back to this week and next, and business as usual! And at risk of being trite, I should really say thank you to everybody who’s been kind and encouraging about my phone photos as well as the bringers of lovely things like eggs, show tickets, a bit of wood (which I really needed, believe it or not) and obviously their hard earned. It more than makes up for the phone-numpties who all seem to be coming out of hibernation this last week, but at least when they’re interspersed with nice sensible folk they’re entertaining rather than anything worse and for the rest I have a call blocker.
Song of the week hails from my current favourite soundtrack as well as an old favourite album (plus it was co-written by David Bowie which is as close to this segment as he’s ever likely to get, since pretty much everything he’s ever done would qualify and renders cherrypicking impossible) and deserves turning up very loud; possibly not in Tesco, where multiple people have witnessed me bouncing up and down the chilled section in my giant wireless headphones to it while waiting my turn to examine the spoils on the Reduced To Clear shelf. Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a fucking big remix.
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