First to Drax, where the thrilling power-station loomed out of the rainy darkness, spewing orange steam from the top of the cooling towers, and festively decorated below with functionally white, white lights.
We were on our way to Laura's birthday party; Laura sparkled like a princess and would have been sparkly even without her sparkly clothes; she had a wonderful evening and so did we.
And so did Mr Blobby.
Sunday night's music event was in Croxley's Coco Cafe, situated in a tidy suburb on north London, where the Rrrants crew were saying goodbye (temporarily, I think and hope). The little cafe was packed, and Poet Terry was on hand to deliver his smutty offerings, accidentally starting the same poem twice; Hannah did a great poem about shedding snakeskin which had great resonance in our quarter (and I'll have to find out the names of the other poets and get back to you later).
Towards the end, and after a version of Freight Train featuring Steve Joy on trumpet, the Antipoet were joined by Martin Stephenson, Lester Square and yours truly, launching into Jet Set Junta which I managed to play by sticking closely to E minor and not budging.
On to last night when my Champagne Friend joined me at The Forge in Camden to see Jamie McDermot play a minimal set. It's wonderful to hear a singer who you know that you can trust never to hurt your ears, and who you know will hit every note perfectly.
And the songs!
The guy next to us was weeping openly and feeding his tears with regular swigs from a glass of water. Jamie, I'm so proud to have had the pleasure of teaching you, and so delighted that your dreams are coming true.
Pics below: Laura and friend; The Antipoet; Martin and Lester; Jamie and some Irrepressibles