One of those days when you sit at the laptop and just ponder with the mind roaming free. It is a dark and stormy night and it is raining and the wind is blowing and I have just climbed out of a lovely warm bath. I am sitting here in old dressing gown, old socks, face cream on shiny face and drinking a cup of tea and feeling nice and snug and very clean....
Am half way through the biography of Nureyev by Julie Kavanagh which I think is a tour de force. I cannot see that it will ever be bettered. The amount of research and interviews and background knowledge displayed in this book is amazing and totally fascinating. I have often mentioned, probably to the edge of boredom, that I saw him dance many times and it is only now, when reading this book, that I realise how extraordinarily lucky I am to have these memories to look back on. Kavanagh talks about the force of personality which can make an audience watch nobody but a particular person on a stage to the exclusion of all else, and Nureyev had this in abundance. When he was on stage you could not take your eyes off him. Even standing still watching another dancer perform his very stillness seemed explosive. It is difficult to explain the impact he had on balletomanes at the time who were used to English dancing, very elegant, very nice, very precise and then suddenly this dynamic, Tartar figure hurling himself around the stage at a speed and height that just took your breath away - it was a revelation.
In between Nureyev, I am re-reading Cranford as mentioned in an earlier post and have had to purchase the Cranford Chronicles tie in volume which features the three stories which make up the BBC series, much though I dislike so doing, but needs must. So lunchtime at work I settle down in the corner of the staff restaurant on one of the large squishy sofas that they so obligingly supply, and read quietly for half an hour before going back to my desk. I am reacquainting myself once more with all those wonderful ladies who live in Cranford and remembering how much I love them.
TWOTY is not far away now and last week the Bride and Mother of the Bride went for a dress fitting and when Helen appeared in her bridal gown, she looked so absolutely beautiful that I came over all thing.. Cannot wait to see James's face when he turns round and sees her walk down the aisle. We repaired to a great new eating place at the top of my favourite Oxford Street store, John Lewis, for tea and chat and talked about bouquets, buttonholes, hairdresser, beauty treatments and make up and generally had a girly afternoon. Yesterday I purchased a single pearl on a silver chain for her to wear on the wedding day and a pair of drop red crystal ear rings for Kathryn, chief bridesmaid, to match her dress. In true PA fashion, I am now drawing up an itinerary for the two days before the wedding and plotting out who goes where and gets what, who delivers who where, and who is having their hair done first and make up etc. I tell you, it is being planned like a military action.
Right, Random thoughts all done and now off to bed where the electric blanket has been heating up nicely so I will get into a lovely warm bed. Nothing nicer than having a bath, clean nightie etc and curling up in bed.
Bliss.
