I received a completely unexpected Christmas gift. Steve Jobs’ biography by Walter Isaacson is a great book to receive, because it’s exactly the kind of book I’d love to own but would never buy for myself.
This song always reminds of my first job after graduating. Way up north, in Leeds, at the Playhouse. And a boyfriend who (it turned out the minute I left London) started going out with a girl I had become friends with, a girl who worked in a bookstore, and had given me a copy of Where the Wild Things Are; as a good luck present for my first professional job in theatre. Her name was Laura. But I don’t hold this against the other Lauras I know today.
O, Minerva, where is a great English butler to be found when you need a plate of sandwiches and a pot of piping tea?