Splendid...

Ah.  I'll bet yesterday's post made your eyes flutter and close.  What you really want is a bit of light weekend reading.  And a report on how a nice girl like me found herself galavanting around the Bricklayers Tavern last evening.  No.  But it was a jolly evening.  Wish you were there.

Waking with a dry mouth, all I could see was this Turner painting in my mind.  Perhaps it was the water theme that lodged it in my brain.  I saw it at Tate Britain yesterday in the Turner/Rothko exhibition.  Whoever thought of that combination deserves a kiss.  It made more sense that one could ever imagine.

The children were bored bored bored with that exhibition.  What they liked better was Jake and Dinos Chapman's room full of faux primitive sculptures.  It was equal to the Turner in brain-lodging power, and, had the trademark Chapman twisted kind of humour.  It also had a bit of an economics theme enmeshed in it.  

I'm sure glad the Turner was what was lodged in my eye upon waking up -- a morning vision of any Chapman piece would have meant I most sincerely had drunk too much.  I do recall meeting Dinos one evening last year and drinking and drinking and drinking hall-of-fame style.  It was splendid.

Speaking of splendid and hangovers,  I must now go find a glass of water.

Blog hungover again...

I've had a case of lightness, daftness, devil-may-care-ness about the blog as of late. The workload has swamped up and taken away some quality pondering time. The swirl of ideas has been spun away by deadlines and, well, I have lost the knack. It will be back. Promise.

It is a bit of a party season thing as well - the late evenings are turning the brain into a sloggy soup. From last night's magic carpet garden I distinctly remember a few conversations and a wonderful potato thing. Israeli Bonds, Turkey, French Castles, The Economy, and my drunken girlfriend who-wants-to-be-an-MP, vodka in the eye purposefully, and I missed dessert. There are indeed a few morsels in there, and more. But that might be gossip. I'll give you a bit cloaked in economics.

All topics did seem to lead back to the economy. My sweet castle-laden friend spoke of her husband dying her hair for her to save some money. Bond-man gleamed with gratitude for actually still having a job. The girl-who-looks-younger-than-all-of-us spoke of trying to get into a free anti-wrinkle trial. That all sounds so light, but, I've kept the best conversations to the side. MP-to-be chatting with Perfect Hostess was an evening highlight...(hush - no!)

Still on the light side...as I am on a dafty tangent - the clothes...there were a lot of boho embroidered things wafting about. The high end kind. Hippie-lux has always been a thing, but, it speaks the right way these days. I had on a swedish version and I felt oh-so-secretly blonde for the evening.

My point? Hangovers do not make good writing friends, thinking friends, or get anything-done friends. But honestly, if Missmc reformed and stayed home to write the blog, the economy would clearly suffer. Or at least some French vineyards would.