Can’t talk. Have just come home from a 2-hour driving lesson on roundabouts. I could barely even unclench my fingers from round the steering wheel, so forming sentences is a bit of a challenge. I never realised quite how many roundabouts there were round the outside of Epsom racecourse–nor how much fun they are to go round. In the dark. And the fog.
Fog?! Yes, fog. And I’m sitting there, thinking, “You’re kidding, right?” Apparently, neither my driving instructor nor Mister Weathermaker were.
Anyway. To ease my troubled mind, I’ve found me some new gin. Sipsmith’s, specifically, which I’ve been hankering after for months. And it’s sloe gin (so much easier to catch than the normal, quick kind…). I’m not being worthy like Mark Charan Newton, who is making his own–too impatient, me–but dear me, if anything’s going to shake off the driving lesson jitters, this’ll be it.
Two things. First: if you’re in London and you’re not coming to the launch of Solaris’s “End of the Line” anthology tomorrow night, why aren’t you? There are contributions from brilliant authors, and it looks great. As far as I know, tickets are almost sold-out, but there’s still one or two available–so look alive & get in touch with Foyles to reserve your spot.
Second: I saw a trailer for Chico & Rita the other day, and it looks like it’s worth investigating. It’s all jazz and Cuba and… stuff.