You may have noticed an absence of a missive last weekend for which I apologise. My followers via the email route did receive a brief note but sadly I omitted to post the same in this place. I unfortunately succumbed to a bout of ill-health and decided to conserve my energy for the Salon the next day. I simply couldn’t risk letting down my guest Ms Catrin Finch, nor indeed those sophisticated comrades booked for an evening of delicious food and frivolous conversation . My commitment to always delivering on my promise remained intact!
And hence I spent the last weekend in the company of Monsieur Jason Issacs as I caught up on the excellent dramatisation of Kate Atkinson’s Case Histories. After hours in his delectable thrall I was rendered incapable of anything less than sophisticated, albeit passive and energy-less, lust! He is absolutely gorgeous; rough and absolutely ready as he lurches from dramatic crisis to crisis; and yes he always get’s the bad guy (or gal, I confess to having forgotten the details as they seemed less important).
And that is how I found my recuperation aided significantly. Being incapacitated is such a bore especially when, to a normal complete human specimen, the ailment was relatively minor. Such is my ridiculous professionalism I had pushed myself to the limit and then a little further. Never before have I been publicly attacked at a ‘consultation’ meeting; apparently the event to which I refer was ‘shit’! A person attending said event had never in 40 years of business seen such a dreadful presentation, lacking vision and passion, and hardly designed to appeal to the audience.
I was complimented, by someone else attending the event, on how calmly and diplomatically I had conducted the meeting. That, she commented, was why I did what I did and she did what she did! I suppose this is perhaps ‘a marmite’ moment; one that you either love or hate. Hmm whilst I appreciated the compliment it didn’t stop me having a sleepless night as I replayed the difficult conversation over in my head.
As an aside I have had silent telephone calls several times this week. The first of which was that particular night; the telephone woke me at 1 am, just as I had finally got off to sleep. In my half slumber I had several attempts at 1471 to see who was calling as naturally one assumes the worst. I never found out who was calling.
The Salon was a resounding success with Catrin Finch being the perfect guest. I confess over dinner I wasn’t entirely sure who was interviewing who as she was rather adept at extracting information from me! I was a little embarrassed when laughing commenting ‘when are you 40’; to which she responded that she was 31!
Catrin Finch is a wonderful balance of being utterly down to earth as she underplays her achievement and a quiet powerhouse. Already a mother of two daughters she has been the Royal Harpist to HRH Prince Charles. His Royal Highness keeps in touch and came to open the Studio she and her husband opened in Pentyrch. She and another regular Salon attendee were seeing himself the next day for tea and conversation on matters musical. It all seemed so natural as if such occurrences were quite everyday.
Generous with her time Catrin obviously enjoyed the evening as she said when leaving that she might come along to future Salons! I do like it when one sophisticat finds another; ladies we do need a little laughter and frivolity from time to time.
And so I will leave you and continue planning my discrete exit to the South Algarve where I shall slip away to charge my depleted batteries enabling me to return like the proverbial Duracell bunny (sans the drums and hot pink outfit d’accord)!
In sophistication as always