Dancing, driving, juggling

A very busy day yesterday meant I didn’t get back home until 0300, at which point I had no desire to write 1700 words, but I’ve caught up today, thankfully. I’m just starting to get an inkling of what’s going to happen in the final act, which has been worrying me for a few days. I’d already included passages from the finale, but had no idea how I was going to get there. I suppose proper authors plan this kind of thing beforehand.

I thought it was an interesting Strictly this evening. The couples who normally do very well were a little lacklustre, while the underdogs caught up in a big way. Once Claire’s gone – presumably next week – the remaining five couples will all be of a very high quality, more so than in any previous series. It looks like Matt Dawson has managed to shake his inhibitions, which has helped enormously. I remember being nervous to tell people I’d started ballroom dancing in case they made fun, but at some point decided I couldn’t be bothered with that bollocks any more. There’s still a what-would-the-cool-kids-at-school-think-of-this filter in my head, but it’s diminishing in size and importance, which I guess is one of the advantages of getting older.

I drove back from Walsall at 1700 on Friday night and can only imagine I inadvertently performed a ritual to placate the traffic gods, as the M6 and M42 were clear all the way back to Solihull. That’s just weird.

Finally, juggling inside an inverted glass cone is an oddly soothing sight:

Worth watching all the way through – he goes up to seven balls.