Our friends in the north

Quite a weekend, that was – an extendible one, apart from anything else, as it spilled over into the surrounding days.

Thursday evening saw us hit the gym hard. Strange things are happening to me as a result of this “working out” business – I have cheekbones again for one thing, although admittedly only faint ones. I think I like it…

From the gym we headed up to my parents' in North Hertfordshire for the night. Both of us spent the day working and then we trekked north, getting stuck in traffic on the M6 at Birmingham and arriving chez at half past midnight – long after she, Woody, Emily and all other sensible people had turned in for the night. It meant that Saturday morning was a bit rough – but was infinitely preferable to driving up on the Saturday morning from home, an alternative that would surely have resulted in our arriving, out of breath and panicky, about 30 minutes before the gig on Saturday night.

Ah yes. The gig. Last year Jules came down to us and we went to see The Human League in Reading – and when we met the band afterwards she gave Phil Oakey a right bollocking for not playing Manchester that year. Evidently she put the fear of God into him, because this year we were able to make the return trip to see them at the Manchester Apollo. I think I'll do a separate post on the gig, as posting setlists or whatever will break the flow here. Enough for now to say that it was a great evening, followed by a late, hoarse morning.

Most of Saturday, Sunday and Monday were spent visiting family up there – it was, as ever, great to catch up with everyone. Monday lunchtime, however, was devoted to meeting up with – noodles at Wagamama, for those who like to know about such things. I've met her in the 'real world' once before, but only briefly, and Beloved Other Half hadn't at all. Gerri was excellent company and also rather gorgeous – from time to time her journal intimates that she's perhaps a little larger than she'd like to be, but what she fails to mention is that she has the height and style to carry it off so you don't notice. We talked until the dessert dishes disappeared, and could have talked for longer still had there been time.

The run home to London on Monday night was uneventful, enlivened (not) by passing my Tuesday workplace exactly 12 hours to the minute before I was due to walk through its door and return to reality.

Which I did today.