05 December 2005

"There is travel and there are babies. Everything else is drudgery and death."

So goes an aphorism from a character in You Shall Know Our Velocity, the book I read while I was away, by Dave Eggers. Well, there are all kinds of problems with that generalisation, Raymond, but sitting in bed in an apartment in the Italian port of Trieste, with an impressively pregnant B sleeping next to me, and the little boy S between us, it read like a truism.

There's an awful lot to do this week, all of it good. School tomorrow with the ten year olds acting out playlets based on the experiences of the HMS Belfast veterans. Going through the script of The May Queen in prep for the day's work on it with the cast on Saturday, followed by the reading at Southwark on Sunday. And it's my birthday (39) on Friday. Do you think it's too late for me to send out party invites? Haven't had a party in years.

Lots more on Trieste later, but for now here's a picture of B in Venice - we went on a day trip on Thursday.


4 comments:

Urban Chick said...

i take it you escaped venice before it flooded and st mark's square was awash with floating turds and other such charming detritus?!

[still feeling envious about your holiday...]

sbs said...

we did. it piddled down on tuesday, was fine by thurs (venice day), then as we were waiting to take off from Trieste on saturday afternoon the heavens opened, with very big rain. i guess that was on its way to sink venice...

ps i have no idea why, but you dear UC are the only (of the heaving millions) commenter on crusoe whose appearance doesn't trigger an email to me. which means you pop up as a pleasant surprise. but i sadly don't get emails from you. he giveth and he taketh away.

Urban Chick said...

curiouser and curiouser...

spindleshanks said...

have a party! have a party!
oh and welcome home to you all x