2010 — 13 August: Friday
Luckily for me1 the glass of wine at my neighbours after performing a minor legal duty did no harm to my subsequent enjoyment of the 180+ minutes of the film "Watchmen". I still rate it more highly in book form, though. (Which is perhaps a little odd, given that graphic novels are essentially like reading film storyboards.) I note that Alan Moore has not chosen to attach his name to the credits, unlike co-author Dave Gibbons.
It's a little early for breakfast (at 08:08) but the startup cuppa is welcome. It seems fairly bright out there, and feels a little autumnal. Can that be?
Spike?
Apart from being Buffy's nemesis / love interest... There's a whole world of opinion, contradiction, and theory-less argument out there awaiting the casual web browser foolhardy enough to Google "theory behind loudspeaker spikes". I'm going to remove mine, and just stick with my deliciously heavy Chinese granite dining table place mats from Tesco for a while. In summary: "The only objective measure seems to be the amount of cash you fork over." (Source.)
[Pause] Done. Now, about breakfast. Any theories?
"Police are appealing for witnesses." Why? Were all the CCTV cameras switched off? I've often wondered how one measures the "outrage" to "public decency". A weird concept, strangely suited to the English, I suspect. (Source.)
Well turned-out
Peter's wardrobe2 has just disgorged more (and far better) shirts than I ever owned! What's under his bed, I wonder? Apart from my various plastic crates of analogue A/V cables and leads of many different sorts and sizes. Both items of furniture will have to live temporarily on the landing next Tuesday. After that, I can finally start putting parts of the house back together. There is no way I could ever have put Christa through this massive upheaval. No way at all. Far easier just to move home.
Still, by the time I next need a new central heating system I fully expect to be in my dotage — if dear Mama's genes run true to form. ("All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his.") Yes, Oscar, very witty. But I don't believe you've met my mother, have you?
Ready or not, Iris... here I come!
Later, and raining
A very pleasant lunch and chat over at Brambridge. Then, back at the ranch, it occurred to me that there were only four (fairly substantial) bolts holding the three major components of Peter's bed together. So, a diverting ten minutes spent searching high and low for the Bassetts Allsorts tin that I keep the various hex angle spanners in and, bingo, one set of three easily manoeuvred bits of bed rather than one distinctly unwieldy bed frame. That leaves only his wardrobe — I've emptied it, but it's still too heavy for a poor ol' pensioner on his own!
Of course, the landing, ex-study that was Christa's, and ex-study that was mine, are now all full of the gorp that had been in the young master's room. But there is almost a faint glimmer of light at the end of this tortuous tunnel. It's 16:28, and I've just emptied a pile of yellow dust (that was the carpet underlay 23 years ago) out of the hard-working Dyson. I've made it as easy as I can for the carpet fitters. What's next, Mrs Landingham?
Well, the answer turned out to be "find the SATA hard drive to USB gizmo" that I bought a few months ago in Maplin (on the grounds that it might just come in handy one day). Its day has arrived; Mike will be over to pick it up tomorrow to use it in an attempt to see what's (not) going on in Debbie's PC.3 Followed by, "nip out to buy the next batch of crockpottery clay". In a heavy shower, of course. Still, it swills the car a bit. It's now 18:17 and I declare the weekend open for fun. Let the revels begin. Starting, I think, with a meal for the hungry chap who hasn't eaten since lunchtime.
Later still
Having been generally under-impressed by "Cold Souls" I resumed, and finished, "It's complicated" — much more to my taste, it turned out. In fact, almost as enjoyable as "Playing by heart" with another excellent ensemble cast. It was written and directed by Nancy Meyers... I didn't much care for "What women want", very much enjoyed (as did Christa) "Something's gotta give", didn't finish "The Holiday" (though Christa did) and was surprised to learn that she'd been a scriptwriter 30 years ago on Goldie Hawn's4 "Private Benjamin". Talented lady.