wilt

Right now I need matchsticks like pit props to keep my eyes open.

UOoGB were very good last night in their first Proms appearance, but Mein Gott it was hot. I'd been warm enough in the air-conditioned office, but between leaving work at 18.15 and having a shower at 01.15, I spent about ten minutes when I wan't too hot and melty.

I could do with another couple of hours' sleep and by tonight it should be interesting. I understand that it is forecast to be about 29°C today, which I further understand is something rude in proper and respectable Fahrenheit. Those of my readership that live in the tropics and/or the subtropics may scoff, but London grabs these temperatures and squeezes extra swelter from them, so you get more chafing and sweat for your buck.

wilt

Right now I need matchsticks like pit props to keep my eyes open.

UOoGB were very good last night in their first Proms appearance, but Mein Gott it was hot. I'd been warm enough in the air-conditioned office, but between leaving work at 18.15 and having a shower at 01.15, I spent about ten minutes when I wan't too hot and melty.

I could do with another couple of hours' sleep and by tonight it should be interesting. I understand that it is forecast to be about 29°C today, which I further understand is something rude in proper and respectable Fahrenheit. Those of my readership that live in the tropics and/or the subtropics may scoff, but London grabs these temperatures and squeezes extra swelter from them, so you get more chafing and sweat for your buck.

(no subject)

Feeling somewhat cooler and refreshingly caffeinated, I am at last awake; though I dare say the internal battery will fluctuate a little this afternoon. I reckon that I shall be sloping off as early as I can reasonably manage to allow me a doze before dinner. Ah, the decadence inherent in that statement. No wonder earnest lefties despise the West and wish we were all poor and shoddy like them.

Last night was, as you may have guessed, our group trip out to see The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain at the Proms in the Royal Albert Hall. I met up with ellefurtle around 6.15 and we wandered off to the Jugged Hare on Vauxhall Bridge Road for a couple of pints and some food. We were pleasantly surprised to find that having ensconced ourselves in the upstairs area we acquired waitress service and did not need to fetch our own beer. Food and beer thus acquired, we tucked in and proceeded to await the arrival of romney. He appeared after his customary delay, occasioned in this instance by the inability to look up and see the dining area on the balcony above. More beer and food was ordered, including a defensive bowl of chips and thus we continued.

Having arranged to meet the rest of the group around 21.00 at the Queen’s Arms in Kensington, we decanted out into the street and wandered up to Victoria where we took the Circle Line to Gloucester Road in the uninterested company of someone who looked uncannily like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and a strangely detached horse-faced girl. I mention this as I had a quip ready if any or all of them received an accidental clout from the rucksack full of archaeology books that was slowly compressing Furtle. This was avoided and I have since forgotten the unused witticism, so at least half of this paragraph is pointless filler.

Exiting the tube at Gloucester Road, we swapped rucksacks as Furtle was by this time almost bent double and trogged off to the pub where we met queenortart, fractalgeek, colonel_maxim and a brightly-dressed cheerful lady whose name I sadly forget.

More beer, more wilting in the heat, more chat and then off to the Albert Hall.

I hadn’t appreciated the fact in advance, but we had a box! Fantastic: never had a box before.

The Ukulele Orchestra were excellent as usual, though it was a truncated set. If you didn’t hear it on Radio 3, nip over to the BBC iPlayer and have a listen. I think it may be downloadable, too. Not sure. Listen out for excerpts from Beethoven's Ode to Joy arranged for 1,008 ukuleles.

After the gig it was hurried ‘cheerios’ followed by a rapid yomp back to South Kensington to get back to Whetstone. I took the books this time; not too bad when you got used to them.

All in all a very good time with excellent company and entertainment.

Would have preferred it a bit cooler.

(no subject)

Feeling somewhat cooler and refreshingly caffeinated, I am at last awake; though I dare say the internal battery will fluctuate a little this afternoon. I reckon that I shall be sloping off as early as I can reasonably manage to allow me a doze before dinner. Ah, the decadence inherent in that statement. No wonder earnest lefties despise the West and wish we were all poor and shoddy like them.

Last night was, as you may have guessed, our group trip out to see The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain at the Proms in the Royal Albert Hall. I met up with ellefurtle around 6.15 and we wandered off to the Jugged Hare on Vauxhall Bridge Road for a couple of pints and some food. We were pleasantly surprised to find that having ensconced ourselves in the upstairs area we acquired waitress service and did not need to fetch our own beer. Food and beer thus acquired, we tucked in and proceeded to await the arrival of romney. He appeared after his customary delay, occasioned in this instance by the inability to look up and see the dining area on the balcony above. More beer and food was ordered, including a defensive bowl of chips and thus we continued.

Having arranged to meet the rest of the group around 21.00 at the Queen’s Arms in Kensington, we decanted out into the street and wandered up to Victoria where we took the Circle Line to Gloucester Road in the uninterested company of someone who looked uncannily like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and a strangely detached horse-faced girl. I mention this as I had a quip ready if any or all of them received an accidental clout from the rucksack full of archaeology books that was slowly compressing Furtle. This was avoided and I have since forgotten the unused witticism, so at least half of this paragraph is pointless filler.

Exiting the tube at Gloucester Road, we swapped rucksacks as Furtle was by this time almost bent double and trogged off to the pub where we met queenortart, fractalgeek, colonel_maxim and a brightly-dressed cheerful lady whose name I sadly forget.

More beer, more wilting in the heat, more chat and then off to the Albert Hall.

I hadn’t appreciated the fact in advance, but we had a box! Fantastic: never had a box before.

The Ukulele Orchestra were excellent as usual, though it was a truncated set. If you didn’t hear it on Radio 3, nip over to the BBC iPlayer and have a listen. I think it may be downloadable, too. Not sure. Listen out for excerpts from Beethoven's Ode to Joy arranged for 1,008 ukuleles.

After the gig it was hurried ‘cheerios’ followed by a rapid yomp back to South Kensington to get back to Whetstone. I took the books this time; not too bad when you got used to them.

All in all a very good time with excellent company and entertainment.

Would have preferred it a bit cooler.