The Church, St Mary’s Redcliffe
Inside the Church
No, I didn’t get married this weekend. Night marriage, weekend before Valentino day, no. AND – as if I would be sitting behind a pillar! This is the Gurt Lush Choir performance, which consists of Bristolian people who like a bit of a sing song and are good at said sing song. They include mine and Charlie’s singing matey; Lauren. She does the high pitched bits I believe. We were pretty sleepy from the previous night’s shindigs at Cosies, (bow, bow – ow) but we left el bar at a respectable hour – and our energies were revived by eating cake and going on a mini bike ride – uh, the day had been super sunny. More to the point actually, SCRAP that – we’re ALWAYS willing to get off our butts and support the singstar! So last night we watched the mighty Lush ones doing their stuff in St Mary’s Redcliffe Chuch, which is right in the centre of Bristol. Ah – and there were goosebumps. I lay my head on Charlie’s shoulder (sadly pillar obscured vision – ironically could only see the conductor and four faces, one of those being Lauren’s face. Priceless. ANGELIC!!) and there were several solid moments. Well done Lushikins.
Gurt Lush Choir – their line (which was posted on every lamp post at one point): ‘Try Us, We’re Nice’. They are, they are! Pretty, pretty singing.
And then…: Today has been spent with Charlie’s Grandparents and his sister, the latter of whom has been here all weekend before she goes off to Australia/travelling for ANOTHER year, after a couple of months ‘break’ back in the Jersey. Ahhhh. Yeh, I wont lie, I watched Phil Spencer’s relocating programme tonight – as I do every Sunday night. End of weekend pattern = yes.
SO before this turns into an actual diary (just so you know, we went to the Lido for a meal- very good), I will (and it rained A LOT/all day) whack on my fave ‘ahhhhh’ music – because I DO SO love ‘ahhhh’ music. YES, I know SO much about it clearly. And YES, it IS from a blockbuster style film. With very masculine men and floaty, ethereal women. And corn fields. Don’t be sickened – listen all the way. Gawn!