Saturday, June 17, 2006

Maverick is alive and well ...

and living in Swansea.

We held our long-promised poker evening last night. It is amazing what you can learn from a game of cards about people you thought you knew. It's the quiet ones you have to watch. It was also rather worrying to see the way the church's finance officer bid (and lost) her all on a bluff. Still it wasn't real money.

Maverick is a financial adviser in real life, which makes you wonder if he takes such risks with his clients' money.

I say the finance officer lost her all but not quite as stupendously as I did (or should that be stupidly?); by the end people were giving me chips they felt so sorry for me. It would have helped if I had grasped the rules earlier. My late rally came too late.

Foodwise, my bread and butter pudding didn't look like Gary Rhodes's but it tasted very nice. As long as you didn't look at it.

Then as a bonus, just after everyone had left, Gogol Bordello and the Gypsy Punks appeared on Later with Jools Holland. We're going to see them in Nottingham in a couple of weeks and, as I've only ever heard them, seeing them was something of a revelation. The lead singer, Gogol, I assume, wore a belly dancing skirt over his trousers. I was wondering what one wears at a gypsy punk concert; now I know. I shall wear mine. We'll be a long way from home: there will be no-one I know there.

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