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So, I have had the loveliest week. Just wonderful – company-wise, events-wise, and by any other estimation. No writing done, sadly, but that is what the anti-social weeks are anti-socially created for.

Beginning on Sunday – is that allowed? I was lucky enough to hear one of my favourite pieces of music being sung in one of my favourite London churches.


All Saints, Margaret Street

On Monday, I was lucky enough to be taken to see Andras Schiff and the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment at the Southbank Centre.

Nothing like a recreation 1802 piano for making you concentrate on every single note. The entire hall held its breath for Mozart’s Piano Concerto No.9 in E flat, K.271 (seriously, open the link. Took me an age to find him playing it and it is sublime.)


On Tuesday, I went to Mattins at St Pauls (the 0730 start tempered by a croque monsieur afterward) and then onwards ho after work for fizzy drinks in Caravan in Exmouth Market, to talk PhDs and unexpected pregnancies (neither mine).

Wednesday I sort of had off, went for a walk, and ate a lot of biscuits.

Thursday saw me make a new friend, and leave a fucking terrible film.

Don’t go and see it. It is appalling. Or do, if you like things of interminable length which involve the dull mental degradations of dull men with dull guns dully killing people in a grey, ruined-looking, hopeless city.


And tonight I was so lucky, seeing a friend’s sister play at the Royal Academy. I could dance all night to Sheherazade.



Tomorrow I am going to Primark unholy early, and then on, and on, cumulating with a writing group which I simply HAVE NOT DONE THE PRINTING FOR SWEET GOD.

No idea how to solve that one…

What a lovely week, though. Lucky girl.