I'm currently trying to get over this cold/ nervous exhaustion thing which is coursing it's way through my body. I'm sitting under a blanket watching a TV programme about the rather stunning Tagg's Island on the Thames out towards Hampton. The island is situated roughly at the start of the non-tidal, calm part of the river, where the water twinkles in the sun, and meanders slowly whilst people swim and mess about in barges and rowing boats.
Tagg's Island is famous for its community of bohemians who all live in house boats permanently moored on the water's edge. They call them house boats, one assumes because they float, but the majority are two story buildings with multiple rooms. I would love to live there. One of the women on the show had a grand piano in her sitting room, with enormous windows looking out onto the river. If I lived there, I'd have a punt in my garden and I'd be as happy as Larry, whoever he is...
I finished and delivered parts two and three of my composition for the Fleet Singers this morning, and sent them off to the choir leaders before heading to the gym, making a detour en route to the shops on the Archway Road. We wanted to put some posters up to advertise the show Julie is producing at Trafalgar Studios next month. The piece promises to be excellent. It's written by my mate Di Sherlock and is a one-woman show based on Dickens' Miss Haversham, which stars theatrical grand dame, Linda Marlowe. With a bit of persuasion and a couple of quid, we managed to get about ten posters up in shop and cafe windows along the street. I'm always happy to go the extra mile for a mate who's taking risks for art. Producing a show is the ultimate risk, and I really hope it works for her.
We had our first casserole of the season for lunch today; a sure sign that we're battening down the hatches and preparing for winter. The heating is now on in the morning and at night, and I'm finding myself searching for long-sleeved tops. I might eat a bowl of porridge for supper. I just have. It was lush.