I'm off to the Cambridge Folk Festival tomorrow. This annual trip is well ensconced in the familial diary now. We've been going since, ooh, let me see...2008 or 9 I think. Since we ditched our car a couple of years ago, the ritual begins with my picking-up a hire car on the eve of festivities. That is what I'm up to this evening, en route home from the office. Unfortunately, I've got a bad back at the moment, which isn't ideal. Still, it's only a short drive to Cambridge from home and I've got nothing to do for five days but mooch about, listen to music and drink real ale. No sitting at a desk for nine hours a day, no cycling, no stress. If that doesn't sort the spine out, then I don't know what will.
About Me
- Francis
- I’m the male half of a dinky (duel income no kids yet) couple from London, England. I give off a cynical air apparently, but this is inadvertent. I loathe wilfully cynical people. I lay the blame for my apparent world-weariness at the feet of white-collar work. It is ultimately pointless, and therefore engenders ennui and spiritual fatigue. Why do you think so many people practice yoga in the evenings? They're left empty husks by their day jobs and erroneously think that enlightenment is inextricably linked with the ability to touch one's toes. I'm being inadvertently cynical again. There might be something in it je suppose. Om…
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