there is love in this muddy ground

Glastonbury festival over with, I am now unsure what direction life is going to take. Feel a little thwarted by the deluge and ensing quagmire that made the prospect of trekking miles to see the Dimwits (or somebody else you'd never heard of but have an intriguing name) somewhat unappealing. As the Glastonbury Daily put it: "Thanks, God". However the chagrin of being rooted to the spot if you stayed still for more than a couple of minutes, of having to queue for hours to get wellies, and being jostled, hectored, and becoming one of the Great Unwashed somehow transformed itself into a gloriously liberating experience, and back in my East london suburb, I miss it terribly. After all, what could be better than three days with your mates with no cooking/washing/washing up, loads of booze, fantastic music, and the slim chance of a bit of sunshine?

Anyway, my thanks to all who I was there with - it was great. Roll on the next one (in two years, more's the pity).