Chilling in the cottage, almost

Two days off, and both with Lou. We decided to do as little as possible today and just nest in our little cottage, so inevitably we drove up to Dover Hill and looked at the sheep. It’s all terrifically Cotswolds up there and was a good chance for me to speak the little niggly things that mean nothing but magnify when you are making a nebulous creative thing with many people and you all care about it but you are all very different. Things like the bundle are polarising because everyone has a very different eye on magic and more people are proud to be rational and know it’s all bollocks than the hopeful fools who trust that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

An hour or so of wind and damp, sheep shit and grass, benches and flies. Screaming children. Gorgeous but for that and a blowthrough is sometimes all a man needs to wind down.

We went to Chipping Campden on the way home which looks like it has been built in one feverish weekend by a child giant with a bucket on the beach. Pictures of Withnail all over it, that actor’s cautionary tale, very alive in the local imagination. I was wearing a long coat yesterday and it was enough for someone to shout “Oy, Withnail!” at me. Oh I hope not. Charming and magnetic, I’ll buy that great yes fine, but Vivian Mackerrell was dead at 51. I expect bits of it were shot round here… If not it’s just the wine shop owner being a fan. “We want the finest wines available to humanity…” etc. So do I, yes, but in moderation perhaps?

Anyway we are back in our little cottage now. We ordered a vast spread of curry from Simla – loads of great veggie options, delivered fast. Now we are listening to om shanti music to keep in with Lou’s mild obsession with India, and to gear up for a massage exchange in which I’m gonna get the best deal as she’s a trained Ayurvedic masseur and I’m just an enthusiastic dude with two hands.

Dark now. The hour is upon us. The winter has snuck up and soon it’ll be a month and a half of Christmas again, get ready for the onslaught.