Pretty clouds

The clouds in the sky this evening are more than a little strange. Most of them look like balls of cotton wool against a forget-me-not blue backdrop, but in some areas these fluffy balls are linked  by hundreds of thin, vertical white lines. Like scores of tiny pipe cleaners or strands of horse hair falling off a broken 'cello bow. It almost looks as though someone has drawn the fluffy circular clouds, thought better of it, and rubbed them out with a cheap eraser, which has made everything look really smudgy. 

I'm in a shockingly bad mood this evening. I feel lethargic and irritable. I don't like being ill and want whatever's wrong with me to get lost. It's incredibly dull. I went to the doctors yesterday, who was fairly non-plussed, shrugged his shoulders a lot and said I'd only really need to start worrying about glands if they got hugely visible, which they're not. In fact the painful one isn't even feelable! He's prescribed tablets for acid reflux, which certainly can't do any harm, particularly in the light of the huge quantities of vinegar I consume on a daily basis. 

I still reckon it's the hardcore stress of White City working its way out of my system. The only thing which worries me slightly is that these are the symptoms I experienced when suffering from glandular fever as a 17 year-old, and I certainly don't want another bout of that! Really, I'd just like a whole day on the sofa, doing nothing but reading Sassoon. As the Littlest Hobo used to say... "maybe tomorrow..."

This morning I went for a massage, which was lovely, except he absolutely pummelled my back to the extent that I nearly yelled out in pain on a number of occasions. Apparently I've got knots upon knots. 

Nathan and I went to the South Bank this afternoon for a meeting with the Kaleidoscope Trust about releasing Four Colours. We met Alistair from the charity in the British Film Institute cafe and spent a few hours drinking expensive tea and sorting things out. Self-releasing an album is a tricky business and there's a phenomenal amount of admin to sort out. 

The South Bank was on great form, however. It's such a unique and wonderful resource for Londoners. They've presently got a big installation which features vegetables, herbs, fruits and flowers all growing in enormous pots and crawling up giant wooden window frames. The bees were in their element, diving into buddleia bushes and enormous pumpkin flowers. 

There's also a huge sandpit, which stretches for a hundred yards along the river path. It was full of kids making eccentric structures, happy as Larry.

I feel genuinely very proud to be a Londoner when I visit places like that. Not a lot will beat the South Bank on a sunny summer's evening.