Bredonborough.
Rising at 07.00, feeling as if I have, at last, arrived home from Seattle.
The weather is presently bright & beautiful, although it remains very changeable. The Minx has left for London, and I am off to DGM.
18.42 DGM HQ.
DGM Street View…
Along the way is Marlborough and, as a special treat, I allowed myself a very highly valued treat indeed: tea at the Polly Tea Rooms. This has been a place of wonderment & delight site for over 3 decades. It was here that I had tea with my Mother & Auntie Evie en route to Sherborne House, a last joy before 10 months of austerity, cold & interesting arisings.
But today, my fave cake – the pistachio truffle – was stale. And something was not quite as it had been. The menus have changed, and are no longer the conventional English tea room menu. The framed posters that cover nearly all the wall space present exhibitions of French art. Why? This is a quintessentially English establishment, so why the Gallic overload, however artful?
http://www.travelpublishing.co.uk/CountryLivingSouth/Wiltshire/CSO25447.htm,
The Polly remains exceptionally busy, as always, and with a little grumpiness in the serving department.
As I was leaving, having paid the bill, the woman behind the counter remarked to a customer: the woman who used to make our cakes left 18 months ago. Clearly, she took her magic cakes & recipes & wonderment with her. The ownership has changed as well, and now there are two Polly Tea Rooms… http://www.thepolly.com/ … and the second Polly is where Michael Snell used to be in Salisbury.
Well, there we are. There’s always Betty’s in York.
John was waiting, arrived from Palmyra yesterday, computing in the kitchen, and the Solar Voyager UK Enhanced is set up & vibrant for tomorrow-testing. The Vicar is working in SoundWorld I on Songbook No.1. An overloaded in-box is waiting to be reduced to inconsequential.
21.18 An e-frenzy is underway. A call to Ade in Mount Juliet: ProjeKct Six – Fripp & Adrian have a debut performance in Nashville on Friday 28th. July, 2006.
23.10 Practising done. The floor is waiting.
"When a musician believes that music is a commodity, music dies in them."
