mostly david ephgrave

Today, I found myself thinking about the changing seasons, now that Autumn draws near (not that you'd know it from the weather) and how this relates in a sense to my new house. (That's the first time I've called it that, without any caveats, which is progress.) Seasons are an obvious way to chart passing time that's illustrative of rebirth and development. They roll on endlessly, outside of our control, leaving us to adapt to them; when it gets warmer, short sleeves are prevalent, and when it's brass monkeys, out come the Winter coats.  Personally, I'm standing on the edge of real change. After twenty-one years in Hitchin (or essentially my adult life), I'm moving to a village outside it, into the closest thing to my family's spiritual home*. My grandparents bought the house in the late-1940s / early-1950s and raised my dad and his brother here, with my dad moving back when my parents separated when I was a kid. And now here I am, making it my home with

Unfortunately, we're unable to reopen Hitchin Mostly Comedy this month as we'd hoped, as we can't meet the current COVID-19 restrictions in a way that makes the event viable. Our official stance (with legs widespread). Fortunately, Hitchin Town Hall is  very keen to get us up-and-running again, as are we, but at the moment, too many problems stand in our way: the biggest being that the venue's current capacity is lower than our breaking-even point. While we're prepared to shoulder some losses just to get going again, it's just not practical if we can't cover our costs even when we're sold out. The event would also have to be run cabaret-style, with chairs & tables instead of rows to assist social distancing, but the smallest booking we could take is a party of six, which would limit interest immediately, which we can't afford when we're already on the backfoot. The good news is we're already discussing ways to make it work as soon as we c