Montserrat morning

No, I don't know either why this area of the Golden Valley's hillside is known as Montserrat! It just is. Shot from my back step this morning. I am wiser now, after Monday's storms, and know that if Tuesday morning dawns bright, you'd better snap it quick!

True enough, the weather turned, and turned again, more times than Dick Whittington. By tonight the bitter North wind had taken hold, and frozen my cockles, never mind blowing the top off our greenhouse!

We went out for Paella night at Stroud's no.23 restaurant. It was so rich that I still feel full, at nearly midnight! For once I was early for my life modelling job. Unfortunately, the building was locked and in darkness. Eventually the artists turned up, but not the keyholder! We were determined to get some drawing in, no matter what, because several artists had travelled from a distance. Eventually we established ourselves in the pale wooden side room of the bar across the road, the Ale House. There were some very large windows letting the cold in, and a glazed door, so of course I kept my clothes on, but it was cold, and alarming being in the pub, with drinkers chatting away, a few yards distant! I could feel my heart thudding for the first few poses, reminding me of the nervousness I experienced when I took up this odd sideline career, 20 years ago.

To think that the Ale House building once housed the Careers Service! Careers must have been more substantial in the early 1990s, before the service ceased to exist. None of this zero-hours contract and 'do you mind if we pay you a tenner and you can go home' stuff that may pass for business nowadays!

Which reminds me, I must phone the college and ask them to retrospectively send me a zero-hours contract so I can be paid for the work I did for them two weeks ago!