Featured Post

The Green, Green Grass of Home: Mr Jones An Aberfan Story - Finborough Theatre

Image
A life of hope and promise, interrupted, lies at the heart of Mr Jones: an Aberfan Story. The play follows two young people in Aberfan before and after the disaster that killed 144 people, including 116 children. It’s an emotional coming-of-age tale of intersecting lives, family, love, and the shock of tragedy. With two vivid performances and strong characterisations, you feel immersed in 1960s Welsh small-town life. It’s now running at the Finborough Theatre , after performances at the Edinburgh Festival and across Wales.  The Aberfan disaster is well known in the UK but perhaps less so elsewhere. The facts of the tragedy are confined to the programme notes rather than in the piece. On 21 October 1966, the catastrophic collapse of a colliery spoil tip on a mountain above Aberfan engulfed a local school, killing many. The play avoids the causes and negligence, instead focusing on those working and building lives in the town.  Writer-performer Liam Holmes plays Stephen Jones, a...
Housekeeping and the Weekend

No computer set up at home yet, so have done this update from an internet cafe on the Strand. Oh well, it's nice to get out on a Sunday evening... Even if nobody else does!

I will look back at this weekend and think of the fabulous things that could have been done such as:
* Russian Orchestra at the Barbican
* Walk through the Heath in the light snow
* Take coffee throughout Bloomsbury
* Major blockbuster Turner, Whistler and Monet at the Tate

But no, instead I cleaned the old flat at West Hampstead and after downsizing (ie throwing lots of things out or giving them to Charity) I moved everything else into my new place in Bloomsbury. It was exhausting. You don't want to be carrying an ironing board, two boxes of books and clothes and a wheelie suitcase everyday on the Thameslink. It didn't help that this weekend the Jubilee Line was out for engineering works either. There is no dignity when moving on the cheap. By the time I got to Kings Cross I decided to catch a cab for the rest of the journey home.

We will find out tomorrow during the flat inspection whether we get our (or rather mostly my) bond back, minus the next two weeks...

The rubbish real estate agents hinted that we could get out by 1 March and they would move somebody in from that date but it turns out that they will stick to our six week agreement as they are having trouble moving new people in... Maybe that is because:
* The place was built using dodgy offcuts of wood
* The roof in the kitchen wasn't fitted correctly so now it leaks and is home to several types of mould
* The living area doesn't get much natural light and has curiously unusual corners and dips in the floor
* The neighbor sounds like she is a hooker who gets bitch-slapped every other night
* Homeless men shit outside your place (but I covered that in October)
* Winter is a bit of a slow time anyway

Well hey... Its only money...

News: Oscar Oscar Zzz

Will probably fall asleep tonight watching the Oscars, which has to be better than Temazapan. They are broadcast on the BBC which is a bit unfortunate as they have to find something to fill the regular 3 minute commercial breaks. If last year was any measure of a guide they had Jonathan Ross and other film aficionados smugly commenting on the proceedings while drinking champers. It was excrutiating. So much ado about over paid surgery enhanced actors. Good to read that Awards fatigue is setting in...

New place, New stuff

On the plus side, after getting another one of those fabulous coffees near me, I spent early this afternoon getting some new stuff for my room to make it just so. It now is just so right...

New places: Planet Organic

I now live just around the corner from a Planet Organic so yesterday I thought I would give it a try as it is always busy when I walk by it.

The coffee wasn't so great for something organic and the cafe seemed to be frequented mostly by middle aged women and youngish-scruffy-pasty-white men with bad sinuses. The fact that I could fit into that latter cohort was not lost on me. Was the organic life me, or was I just having a bad hair day and not giving a shit about what I was wearing??

Anyway rather than dwell on this too much, I drank organic coffee, ate my organic muffin and after purchasing an organic cucumber for twice the Gross National Product of New Zealand, I left.

Popular posts from this blog

Opera and full frontal nudity: Rigoletto

Fantasies: Afterglow @Swkplay

Play ball: Damn Yankees @LandorTheatre