I don't know what reminded me, but some years ago I went to a New Year's Eve fancy dress party dressed as the fairy on the Christmas tree. It was effectively a pub crawl in a small village in North Yorkshire, followed by a house party. I wore a blond wig, a cardboard crown, a proper ballerina-type tutu, white tights and Doc Marten boots. A vision of loveliness, as you can imagine (not), somewhere between Tinkerbell and Mad Max. I also had a wand, which I lost. I was pursued from pub to pub by a woman who kept sticking her hand up my tutu. I made a mental note to never, ever, dress like the fairy on the Christmas tree again. So far so good.

The / a rabbit has moved back into the little barn.

I am starting to look at the shows I want to see when I get back to England. I am also looking at equipment I will need for the workshop (That sounds grand. I mean cellar, of course) for the new work.

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