Cancer 27° (July 17)


I hope to sneak in a little something today, that is my hope. Yesterday I awoke feeling pretty fresh I suppose (or so that’s how A., whom I love anyway, described me); we popped out in the a.m. to the coop to get some breakfast (fruit and yoghurt) and salad fixings, the idea being we would grab a whole chicken later. A. arrived promptly at 10 and we worked for a solid three hours before heading to lunch, which we didn’t plan. We ended up getting a table at the little sister restaurant to Moro. We had some fried aubergine and minced lamb something or other and octopus and crispy prawns where you eat the whole thing and then some other stuff. Then we strolled up Amwell Street and I made a hair appointment and the guy Gents of London was a bit bitchy. I said I wanted a trim and to have my hair/neck cleaned up and he was like are you sure that’s all you’re going to want as if I was trying to fool him into giving me more for less. He was so bitchy in fact that I went back to say him: “I hope that was just your humor,” and he was incredulous but got the point. I am not not a scary godfather. We then went to the butcher’s and then back to the house to work for a few more hours which was truly, truly fruitful. I’m beginning to see the collection come to life and it is really, really happy making. Myddelton Square is ridiculously beautiful. I slept in Henry’s room last night and it was so breezy and no wailing woman lamenting Arlene or Ari or Ollie or whatever the fuck she’s saying.

I got up this morning at five and got some mojo going on the fundraising. Last night, after A. left we went back to the butcher’s for some chicken stock, which they had “downstairs” then we went the other way around and passed a fantastic wine shop where we got something fizzy and a bottle of Chinon (our current fave)—I am so glad I drink. Then next door to that was the most incredible vintage/designer shop, so expensive but oh my grrr, I bought this wispy Burberry cardigan that was made for a tall thin male model but still it was the right weight and I’ll end up rolling back the sleeves but it is so so feathery and perfect. Right as I was purchasing it, S. noticed that the back was sort of worn slash pilled. And so it went from 80 to 50 pounds, still a fortune, but worth the money to know I have it. We strolled back and No. 4 came home and helped me understand what setting on which to put the oven. We roasted a chicken and I sautéed onions with thyme in olive oil and chicken stock, and did some basmati in water and chicken stock as well, made the requisite dressing and we had our coop salad. We had a jolly time all of us outside. S. drank very little and No. 4 had just one glass, which meant I basically drank two-thirds of two bottles. Oh well, I’m on vacay. Not really. I never not work. And as I say I got up at 5 today to make headway on the festival fundraising.

I went for my haircut at 10 and Greg was very nice indeed. It was pricey for a trim but I feel so much more confident for the cut. S. had already too’d and fro’d getting more salad fixings and going to the bank to pay A. back for having had my jumper fixed (in Cornwall). Post-cut, I met the two at Ground Control and we went back to the house to work. I thought I was going to have to do solo-work on what will be the pendants but they reminded me that that wasthe work today so we sat there and banged out the “twelve estates;” which was brilliant and inspiriting and, again, I am so, so, so excited about the collection I can’t even stand it. Fran came just as we were beginning to do some cleaning up. She asked if we could hang around to flush the English draino she was “popping off” to get once she’d put it in and it was left for half an hour. She never came back. Which was so stressful. I set myself up in the living room, which was very hot, such that I had to add ice cubes to my water—I never use ice cubes—and I was trying to get the timing right on bathing and Fran (who I still thought would show up) and being ready to meet S. after her blow-out. I was doing a deep dive into the whole former Yugoslavian thing, trying to figure out the history, which was so fuzzy. That’s how I was procrastinating and not doing any more festival work. Between yesterday and today we had all our laundry done and we were ready to head to Corfu, then Albania, to meet the boat.


To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.

Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
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