It’s not bad this, rubbing shoulders with authors as you get your Weetabix in the kitchen every morning. This, the third, morning people look particularly bleary eyed. It was hard work getting rid of Blake Morrison last night, and it got rather late.
Blake was our special guest who came to dinner, cooked by the witch and her team of three. He then read from his books about his parents, and answered questions on writing. Blake didn’t look as I’d expected him to, but other than that he was very good. He’s got a film out soon, and the adult Blake is played by Colin Firth. He’s very embarrassed by this.
The more formal session in the barn was followed by an evening in front of the fire in the lounge, with more wine bottles than the clean living witch is used to. Interesting conversations with everyone. Mayonnaise advertising in Argentina and matchmaking at the Guardian both came up. The things you learn.
After all this Blake needed transporting by taxi, except the taxi couldn’t find us. Endless phone calls from lost taxi driver, but at least you couldn’t fault his determination. Blake was heading for Slack Top, or possibly Slack Bottom, and I hope he got there. Otherwise he and his taxi are still lost on these Yorkshire roads.