Wednesday was my Florence day and it goes without saying she is gorgeous and wonderful and I adore her and after driving home in the rain and dark I hied me off to bed nice and early as I was back up in London the next day, but this time by train.
I have been a member of an online chat/book group for several years now. We initially met up through attending a Persephone weekend at Newnham at Cambridge and have taken it from there. Some of us have come and gone and gone and come and we have now settled down into a close knit friendly chatty bunch of ladies, and a few men, scattered all over the world. We have regular meets and today was one of them. The venue was the Geffrye Museum just down the road from Liverpool Street Station (handy for me) and, if memory serves me right, last time I visited I was in a school party so, yes, a long time ago. It is simply delightful and galleries full of rooms set out in differing styles throughout the ages and, as there was very little time to explore after our lunch, I am determined to revisit. I snapped a few pics for you though and here they are:
We had lunch in the very good restaurant there. There were nine of us and we had all brought along a gift wrapped book, second hand or new it did not matter - let's face it, most of us had shelf-loads of books hanging around at home to pass on - and they were put into a bag and we dipped in. To my utter astonishment and sheer delight, I ended up with a brand new copy of PG Wodehouse Letters, a review of which I had only read last week and rather fancied reading. I do hope it was a review copy as it was quite a pricey book and I emitted a shriek and a thank you to whoever it was around the table who had donated it. We were all anonymous givers. As well as the Secret Book Santa, we had all brought along 'swapsies' and I ended up with another of the Carlingford Chronicles by Mrs Olpiphant which I have just started reading, and in the old Green Virago edition as well so was delighted with my haul. Simon, from Stuck in a Book, persuaded me to take a Tove Jansson the Summer book which he thought was wonderful. I was rather hesitant as I had read one of this author's before and nearly died of sheer boredom before the end. Have just found my review of it and here is what I said at the time:
"Fair Play - Tove Jansson. Oh dear is all I can really say about this Pymish, Brooknerish series of loosely linked vignettes of two women who share an apartment, both creative artists. According to the foreword by Ali Smith, this book has not been available in English for some 30 years and its publication is an 
occasion for 'great rejoing'. Well, my celebration was somewhat muted. I don't expect a book to have an event every paragraph but it would be nice if something happened occasionally but nothing, simply nothing happens in this book. And apparently this is the whole point of the story. The delineation of the nothing is the book's raison d'etre. Sorry, I am just a plain ornery reader who likes a bit of action now and then, the odd characterization and a bit of pizazz slung in occasionally. So I had come to the wrong shop here. Apparently Fair Play is superbly written, elegiac and full of the minutia of daily life........."
Anyway I am going to give this author another go. I have yet to find a book recommended by Simon which has failed and as he recommended one of my favourite finds of the year (of which more later) I trust him implicitly.
One of our group at the lunch was Rhona who I first met back at the aforementioned Newnham in 2004 and she lives in Brussels and had come over on the Eurostar to join us all and it was simply wonderful to see her again. I mentioned that it might be rather nice to have a meet up in Brussels and this suggestion was greeted with enthusiasm. There is a branch of the Bronte society over there who apparently do tours of Charlotte's Brussels (sounds like a veggie dish) and Rhona is going to investigate and see what can be done. This is for Spring 2012 so something lovely to look forward to already.
By the time we left the museum it was 5pm and all was dark and we started to go our separate ways. Rhona and I ended up in Carluccios at Spitalfields Market as we both had a couple of hours to kill before meeting with daughter/catching train home and I sent a quick text to Julie, another member of our group who worked in an office next door and had been unable to come to lunch with us, and she joined us for another hour of chat and laughter. Julie is my Mills & Boon cohort and she passed over another 1970s edition of one of their oeuvre and I know I am going to lurve it.
It was a really lovely day and even the train journey home on a crowded and dirty train, with a chap next to me on his mobile the entire way home, delays on the line and then a trudge across the car park in the pouring rain to get my car, did not spoil it. Came close mark you but I was not going to let that happen. I decided to go all Pollyanna'ish and played the Glad Game. Yes I was soaking wet and bad tempered and hated the train but I was Glad that I don't do this every day now and it was worth it to see such good friends.
So arrived home in beamish mood, feet up, cup of tea and then bed. Bliss.....
