Nabbed a book yesterday as a pressie for someone entitled Left Wing Intellectuals Between the Wars. It was the between that landed my fingertips on it. So many books before the war, and after the war, never seen anything between.

Watched a bit of Port of Shadows last night, great moment where the soldier hitches a lift in the camion and shortly, the driver has barely said a word when the soldier informs him he talks too much! Then later the soldier has a drunk latch onto him on the street a few cuts later and the drunk hides him from the passing army officers.

Today outside the 7-11 a man handed a guy who was down on his luck a massive lump of steak inside a sealed bag. The recipient held the door open and we talked briefly about the meat. Have you somewhere to cook it? I asked him. It’s already cooked he said triumphant indicating the man who gave it to him. I turned and the fella was smiling broadly. He’d a box on the roof of his car and I realized he probably just collected the box of cooked meats from the post office, split it open and doled it out to the fella stood at the door.  Who knows maybe the fella’s father or mother is a farmer and sending him a good quarter of a cow for his xmas? In anycase it’s lovely to be trapped inbetween such a gesture and to share the remarking and the smiles as we all marvelled on the bag of meat and it’s arrival.

Earlier in the day I was down on E Hastings Street, meeting one of my favourite people in the world at a Rubby caff. On the walk back within one block I must have had 4 spontaneous conversations with people passing or remarking. Spontaneous conversation is not my most common experience in this city. Sometimes it is the people who have the least, who are the more generous with words and thoughts.