Spooky

Furtle has wandered into town to meet a fellow Warcracker who is in town from Poland, so I thought I'd spend a couple of minutes updating before doing a couple of boring household chores.

I was reminded of the oddities of half sleep on Friday, early evening. After all the kerfuffle over my tooth I was rather tired and I admit that I spent a large portion of Friday afternoon and early evening dozing and listening to the radio. Furtle was off after work for drinks with colleagues and I was unsure what time she would be back home. In the end it was around 10.30, but had it been boring, she would have made her excuses and come home earlier. As it was it was a question of expecting her when I saw her.

At about 7.25 in the evening, I was slumped on the bed in a sort of half sleep listening to a Jazz-swing programme on Radio 2 - not my sort of music generally, but there are times when listening to it from the dreamy comfort of the bed is far more appealing than getting up and changing stations. It was from this not quite awake, not quite asleep state, that I suddenly found myself wide awake, with adrenaline rushing around my system. For some reason I did not open my eyes, but I had the strongest impression for a moment or two that I was not alone in the room. Indeed, I swear I heard the floorboards creak as if someone was moving stealthily around the room. I really don't know why I kept my eyes shut. Anyway the moment passed and I assumed that Furtle had come home and then tip toed out so as not to wake me. After a couple of minutes I got up and went next door to the computer room to find it empty. Such was the feeling that there had been someone in the bedroom with me, however, that I looked in every room of the house before returning upstairs to mess around on the computer.

I have never, to my recollection, had that feeling in the Athenaeum Club before, though I did have one odd experience many years ago when I lived in my garret in Clapham. On that instance it was much later in the evening and dark. I know for a fact that I was the only person in the house. Each of the other tenants was away for the weekend and my old Polish Landlady was on her annual visit to relatives in Warsaw. That night I was in my room with the door closed, listening to music when I heard a creak on the landing outside the door and saw the shadow of two feet move under it. I recall that I called out and got no answer, and upon investigating found that here was no-one there. It was probably my imagination, but it spooked me at the time. I suppose I should ask other ex-members of the Bromfelde Road group if they had ever noticed anything about the place. Maybe I should ask ex-residents of the Athenaeum Club if they have ever noticed anything about this place too..?

Yesterday was bibliogirl's birthday bash on my old stomping grounds in Clapham, more particularly my quondam local, the Manor Arms. We got there a little later than we might, having stopped to watch Dr Who before tubing down to Clapham North. It's about 17 miles in a straight line, which means about an hour and a quarter by public transport. It was good to meet everyone; many of whom we see too rarely, and I had a chat with an old friend I haven't seen since moving north of the river three and a half years ago.

OK; that's that for now. If I quickly clean the bathroom and empty a few bins, I can have the rest of the afternoon to myself.

Later, dudes.

Spooky

Furtle has wandered into town to meet a fellow Warcracker who is in town from Poland, so I thought I'd spend a couple of minutes updating before doing a couple of boring household chores.

I was reminded of the oddities of half sleep on Friday, early evening. After all the kerfuffle over my tooth I was rather tired and I admit that I spent a large portion of Friday afternoon and early evening dozing and listening to the radio. Furtle was off after work for drinks with colleagues and I was unsure what time she would be back home. In the end it was around 10.30, but had it been boring, she would have made her excuses and come home earlier. As it was it was a question of expecting her when I saw her.

At about 7.25 in the evening, I was slumped on the bed in a sort of half sleep listening to a Jazz-swing programme on Radio 2 - not my sort of music generally, but there are times when listening to it from the dreamy comfort of the bed is far more appealing than getting up and changing stations. It was from this not quite awake, not quite asleep state, that I suddenly found myself wide awake, with adrenaline rushing around my system. For some reason I did not open my eyes, but I had the strongest impression for a moment or two that I was not alone in the room. Indeed, I swear I heard the floorboards creak as if someone was moving stealthily around the room. I really don't know why I kept my eyes shut. Anyway the moment passed and I assumed that Furtle had come home and then tip toed out so as not to wake me. After a couple of minutes I got up and went next door to the computer room to find it empty. Such was the feeling that there had been someone in the bedroom with me, however, that I looked in every room of the house before returning upstairs to mess around on the computer.

I have never, to my recollection, had that feeling in the Athenaeum Club before, though I did have one odd experience many years ago when I lived in my garret in Clapham. On that instance it was much later in the evening and dark. I know for a fact that I was the only person in the house. Each of the other tenants was away for the weekend and my old Polish Landlady was on her annual visit to relatives in Warsaw. That night I was in my room with the door closed, listening to music when I heard a creak on the landing outside the door and saw the shadow of two feet move under it. I recall that I called out and got no answer, and upon investigating found that here was no-one there. It was probably my imagination, but it spooked me at the time. I suppose I should ask other ex-members of the Bromfelde Road group if they had ever noticed anything about the place. Maybe I should ask ex-residents of the Athenaeum Club if they have ever noticed anything about this place too..?

Yesterday was bibliogirl's birthday bash on my old stomping grounds in Clapham, more particularly my quondam local, the Manor Arms. We got there a little later than we might, having stopped to watch Dr Who before tubing down to Clapham North. It's about 17 miles in a straight line, which means about an hour and a quarter by public transport. It was good to meet everyone; many of whom we see too rarely, and I had a chat with an old friend I haven't seen since moving north of the river three and a half years ago.

OK; that's that for now. If I quickly clean the bathroom and empty a few bins, I can have the rest of the afternoon to myself.

Later, dudes.

Calling LARPers in the London area

As part of the stock take of items here in the Athenaeum Club before Furtle and I bite the bullet and begin to pack, we have found that we have most of a suit of black rubber armour. A number of you will recall the very effective black armour worn at a number of events many years ago by Adam Taylor sans LJ.

Adam moved out of the Athenaeum shortly after I moved in, three years ago, and left it here. He has since announced that he intends never to LARP or Freeform again (if he has changed his mind, I am unaware) and I doubt he wants this armour. It is in need of minor repair, but as far as I can tell is otherwise serviceable. It is free to the first person who a) claims it and b) tells me when they can collect it. Otherwise it will be binned, which is a shame, but neither I nor Furtle have a use for it.

If anyone thinks Ser Taylor might want it back, please feel free to remind him of its existence.

Calling LARPers in the London area

As part of the stock take of items here in the Athenaeum Club before Furtle and I bite the bullet and begin to pack, we have found that we have most of a suit of black rubber armour. A number of you will recall the very effective black armour worn at a number of events many years ago by Adam Taylor sans LJ.

Adam moved out of the Athenaeum shortly after I moved in, three years ago, and left it here. He has since announced that he intends never to LARP or Freeform again (if he has changed his mind, I am unaware) and I doubt he wants this armour. It is in need of minor repair, but as far as I can tell is otherwise serviceable. It is free to the first person who a) claims it and b) tells me when they can collect it. Otherwise it will be binned, which is a shame, but neither I nor Furtle have a use for it.

If anyone thinks Ser Taylor might want it back, please feel free to remind him of its existence.