Low lie the fields

(Well, not really, they're on a hillside, but I've got a few Irish songs knocking around in my brain. Did somebody say Six Nations? )

I went by bus to Kings Stanley, a village near Stroud. Let us not also forget Leonard Stanley and Stanley Dowton. Collectively these villages are known as The Stanleys.

The home visit to a client was a success, and the village was bursting with blossom and birdsong. Getting back to Stroud via Stonehouse took about an hour, because the buses were running late and I missed a connection. It was too nice to be in the office, anyway. I had lunch outside at the picnic table  when I got back to work. 

After yoga class, I ran down to the Ale House pub to meet Steve, who was at a meeting, and we went over to the Sub rooms to see a film about the Scala Cinema in Kings Cross, London. This cinema was open 1978-93 and was home to a bunch of outlaws, rebels and misfits. Some went on to become great film makers. To think I lived in London at that time (or some of it ) passed that cinema every day on the 73 bus, and never went in! Actually, I  moved to East London in 1989, so maybe that's why! I was definitely a misfit. Steve HAD been to an all-nighter there. He couldn't remember what it was about. That's the thing about all-nighters...

The directors from London were there on stage, all leather and long grey locks. Rock and roll! They had to do the Q &As first , because the last train from Stroud to London is at  21.30! Not so rock and roll. 

We both enjoyed our 'big night out' together. That's the end of the film festival for another year, but there'll be another festival along before you can say snapdragon. Stroud's good like that.