An Evening in The Painted Hall -- Julia Jones
At the close of one of the most memorable occasions in my life, Francis handed back the copy of my speech he'd had in safekeeping, and said ''That's your next month's blog written anyway.' 'Oh no,' I replied, prissily, 'It doesn't work like that.' It was one of those happy occasions when we were both right. I knew I was right (of course!) a speech won't make a blog, but Francis was right er . When Blog Day approaches each month I wake in the early hours wondering what event or idea the jolly old subconscious is going to throw up as this month's Chosen One. And yes, as he'd obviously pre-guessed, it was our evening in The Painted Hall. Not totally for the glory, however - though it was glorious. I thought I had filed it away in some private happy place but during the last few days, I have been reading books by WW2 Wrens, in preparation for a talk about Rozelle Raynes's Maid Matelot . A friend reminded me that, although ...