The undulation of an Oxford weekend

(because I don't go into the office till Wednesdays these days, and when people ask how my weekend was I have already forgotten)

A dash to the Marsh after work for drinks with S, who is off on maternity leave. A power walk to the Pegasus, picking up R on the way, for a decidedly weird take on the myth of Orpheus that involved toy theatres and bubble wrap. A wander to the garden of the Chester Arms to talk art and building and music with Greek people in hammocks. A stumble home via felafel at Bodrum Kebab.

An amble to the Farmers Market for a bag of vegetables and a plate of egg and potato curry and reading the paper (and ignoring the smell created by the Modern Parents who think it's ok to change nappies on the grass right in front of people who are eating). A stroll to the allotment to check on the tomato plants, and from there to Silvesters to buy some more: they were properly dead. A wobbly walk home with a flimsy plastic tray, and a wobblier bike ride down the hill with watering can over the handle bars and a rucksack full of tools and slug pellets.

A couple of hours of gentle pottering. A cycle home for tea, then over to meet R&J at the Fir Tree, then to the Orpheus after-party at the Magic Cafe. A decision *not* to cycle home, more of a weave.

A hangover. A slink downstairs in the early afternoon, then a slink back up again to apply more Night Jewels to the walls of the shower room. A girding of loins (successful) for an early evening trip to Hinksey Pool for the first open air swim of the year. A shivery scamper down the side of the pool afterwards to stand under the shower and feel warm and replenished.

A late dinner of lasagne from leftovers and a sliding under a blanket for two episodes of The Wire (one is never enough). A final ascent for the sort of sleep you know will come quickly and be deep.

joella