Friday night rituals

(Another crap photo. Sorry. I've been working with Jamie today and the camera stayed at home.)

You know how in the holidays all the days merge into one another and you're never certain if it's Tuesday or Saturday?

Well, there's always one sure sign that it's Friday, and that's opening the front door to find The Week and The Speccie on the mat (or where the mat should be).

During term term it's a sign that the working week is over, and during the holidays it's a sign that Jamie will be at home tomorrow. So let's pour ourselves a large G&T and say 'hello weekend, I'm so glad you're here'.

Thanks to all the crossed fingers and storm cloud blowing, last night's performance of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers at the Open Air Theatre went ahead. It was wonderful, utterly magical, and I would urge anyone and everyone to try and see it. There were quite a few empty seats so if you're in London and fancy it, it might be worth checking availability on the day. The singing, the dancing, the weird changing colours of London's sky, the two drops of rain that fell - and the audience's completely over-the-top mad rush for their cagoules - made it a night to remember. I can't remember ever being so enchanted by a show. I grinned like a loon the entire night.