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Office party
Dec. 19th, 2006 11:13 amThis went well, with boxed wine, mince pies and cake, and ended up with a discussion about the exact nature of Azrael, Lord of the Gateway to Death. Typical office party, in other words.
Dec. 19th, 2006
In a small town
Dec. 19th, 2006 11:19 amSnapshot of Glastonbury on a cold December morning: every shop front has a little Christmas tree, with coloured lights, and they've re-erected the big tree by the market cross after last week's gale blew it down. The George and Pilgrims has a roaring fire every day now. The farmers' market is here at the moment, selling organic root vegetables (my hands are still muddy from shopping) and Christmas wreaths. The Tor is wreathed in a wan mist and there are swans and herons out on the Levels. There are tawny owls hunting in our orchard every night, under Orion and the old moon. Our main job for this morning is to get an owl's wing (roadkill, this time) in the post to its new owner in time for Thursday.
In small towns, everyone gossips (including me). T is rumoured to have slept with pretty much everyone, including the bloke who put up our shop sign. God alone knows what they say about me. But when T was diagnosed with cancer, silence descended on the rumour mill like a thunderbolt and shut it up. I found out a couple of weeks ago that partners of people who knew (because we'd told them) did not themselves know about T's illness, even when T had made no secret of it (hell, it was in the Western Daily Press, which covers the whole South West of England, in a related article about the radio show). People have said to me that they did not feel that they should discuss loosely something so serious.
I was also told last night that our main competitor, with whom we have not had an ideal relationship, dropped any references of animosity as soon as she found out, and started lighting candles for T. She came to our party last night.
You hear a lot of negative things about people, and life in little places, because often there's a lot of negative stuff going on. But that is not the whole of it.
In small towns, everyone gossips (including me). T is rumoured to have slept with pretty much everyone, including the bloke who put up our shop sign. God alone knows what they say about me. But when T was diagnosed with cancer, silence descended on the rumour mill like a thunderbolt and shut it up. I found out a couple of weeks ago that partners of people who knew (because we'd told them) did not themselves know about T's illness, even when T had made no secret of it (hell, it was in the Western Daily Press, which covers the whole South West of England, in a related article about the radio show). People have said to me that they did not feel that they should discuss loosely something so serious.
I was also told last night that our main competitor, with whom we have not had an ideal relationship, dropped any references of animosity as soon as she found out, and started lighting candles for T. She came to our party last night.
You hear a lot of negative things about people, and life in little places, because often there's a lot of negative stuff going on. But that is not the whole of it.