It's done nothing but rain today. Horrible great vats of water were dropping from the sky all day. It was my goddaughter, Deia's 6th birthday, so I went into Muswell Hill to buy her a gift. I settled on a little kit which enables a young person to make their name in sequins! It seemed a suitably camp and theatrical gift for a goddaughter of mine. I was also pleased to see that the entire pack was designed and made in Britain. I'm trying to boycott the rubbish which comes out of China. It invariably falls apart before it's opened, and it's invariably created by children who oughtn't to be doing such work. I genuinely believe we have a responsibly in the West to stop looking for cheap bargains, and to start supporting small businesses and entrepreneurs in our own countries. There's very little which actually has to come from China.
I went from Muswell Hill to Kingsland Road where I met Deia and Silver, Philippa and her dad, Dylan, and Gaby and her lovely girlfriend, Thorunn, who's from Iceland. It turns out that we have a friend in common. The world, it seems, is a tiny, tiny place.
We went from Dalston to Victoria Park where we sat for a few hours in one of those cafés where you paint and glaze your own plates and bowls. It turns out that pot-painting is a deeply therapeutic experience. I opted to paint a little ceramic money box in the shape of an elephant, and spent ages covering it in little dots of grey, blue and mauve. Dylan decorated a mug in beautiful intricate flowers whilst Deia painted a penguin. Our masterpieces will be sent off to be fired in a kiln, where the paints we used will apparently become darker and richer. We get to see the final results in a week's time.
I went back to Philippa's briefly, where we iced and ate a walnut cake, before it was time to pick Nathan up from work. We did an evening with a plate of pasta in front of the telly, watching ball-tingling programmes on Channel 4 about dangerous bridges and roads. I shall have nightmares about falling out of aeroplanes all night tonight!