... not something I’m very often prey to these days. Nostalgia is such an empty, frustrating emotion – quite pointless, really.
But this afternoon, while I was getting the fire started, I listened to Julie Fowlis’s album UAM, something I haven’t heard since last winter when I used it as the regular accompaniment to Mists of Avalon and Possession. It speaks of freezing nights spent by a warm fireside, of cigars and port and the priestess.
I miss the priestess. She’s sleeping soundly now in a sacred space, while her temple gets turned over to the more secular interests of the Saxon hordes. At least, I assume that’s what it’s being used for. Can’t say I have much interest in money changers or barbarians, especially when there are more pressing concerns to be met.
Have to go and prepare dinner soon so I can have it out of the way before seven o’clock when I have a phone call booked with Helen. One has to book phone calls with Helen. She’s busy.
And while I have barbarians in mind, I read that a government minister says we should un-ban hunting with dogs. I’m laying plans to have him set down somewhere in the vicinity of a pride of lions and see how he gets on. I’ll raise a glass and exclaim ‘Gentlemen, I give you today’s Minister.’