Weekend Horizons

This morning I looked out of my window and saw Brixton smeared with rain. On the opposite side of the road the dome of the Academy was smudging and the heavy double-deckers that continuously rumble past were just a wash of red streaks.

Entirely my fault, I suspected. When I was walking to a jam session in Stoke Newington last night I thought to myself, oh, isn't it nice that it hasn't rained in a while!* That must've done it. The act of appreciating good weather, as everyone knows, is more than enough to make it quickly turn to shit.

*I often make banal comments to myself like this, like I have somebody's Grandmother living in my head. I am compelled to make small talk with her. Only the other day I caught myself thinking, yes, but that Torvill and Dean were good, weren't they? Granny nodded sagely in response. I then threw myself down the nearest available flight of stairs.

By now, however, London is wetly bright. It shines and gleams, and it is Friday afternoon.

Tonight my Impish Sophie Sister is whooshing (Eurostar, not tube) over from Paris, back to London. She will stay with my parents. Tomorrow we are meeting for lunch in Camden at this place with our parents (but sadly not our other sister, she is somewhere else, the fool), then Sophie and I will skip merrily off to sit in either the Lock Tavern or the Lockside Lounge and wait for people to come and join us for a beer.

(Hey, you want to join us for a beer? We'll be there from about four-thirty, in one or other of the places. You'll get to meet Impish Sophie and nod in agreement that yes, she is indeed distinctly Imp-like. Come along!)

We will sit there and talk and make jokes until such time rolls around for us to go here to see this woman play. Sophie and I are both fans of her Ruby Blue album, and we also both secretly want to be her. I personally think I am closer because I a) have more reddish (read: ginger) hair (thanks, cheap Superdrug hairdye!) and b) also have a funny accenty line thing above one of the letters of my name.

Sophie will then stay with me in Brixton. On Sunday morning we will go to Soho and meet our other sister for a Sister Brunch, at which we will no doubt talk about clothes, ponies and boys.

I possibly have a rehearsal in the evening, depending upon whether a gig that might happen on Monday actually happens, but whatever happens this weekend looks promisingly super. I was meant to be in the studio tonight, but it might be cancelled, who knows.

For now I am going to trot happily over to my friend's office to meet her for lunch, at which we will no doubt talk about clothes, ponies and boys.

This morning London was smeared with rain, and now it shines. It is a funny thing.