2011 — 20 March: Sunday
The latest batch of (yellow, unripe) plums has just been zapped to stewed perfection. The second cuppa is already waiting for me to drink it. The heating is turned down, windows are open, the little mini-Dyson was wielded hither and yon yesterday,1 the forgotten laundry (also from yesterday afternoon) has just been rescued from the washing machine, and the beat (on BBC 6Music) goes on, in the form of some classic "Dr John". The gris-gris man, indeed.
Time2 to start stuffing my next zany crockpot creation. And, as I do so, I can ruminate on last night's film, which was also a bit of a crockpot (and equally zany). Having been very disappointed by the eventual film version of "Watchmen" (a classic graphic novel from, gawd help us, nearly quarter of a century ago), and being completely unfamiliar with the tale of Scott Pilgrim and his epic battles against the seven evil ex-boyfriends3 of his new lady, I just sat back and enjoyed the ride. Mostly. It's going to take rather more than one viewing to unpick the dense set of cultural and comic references packed into this rich confection.
It didn't make me laugh out loud in quite the same way that last week's "RED" romp did, but is a very clever piece of work to which I shall return. What more can you ask of a film? Right. Turn up the "sonic cocktail" so I can hear it in the kitchen, and on with the culinary creating.
I was never a scout...
... though one of my favourite books (long since thrown out by dear Mama, naturally) was a bound volume of half a year of "The Scout" magazine from 1954...
I had a plumber round here the other day, talking about his disappointing son.
"He's a bit slow," the plumber revealed. "He could never make it in plumbing. I once left him to drill six holes in a wall. Came back an hour later, he hadn't
even managed one of them. Poor lad, he isn't the smartest."
"What does he do now?" I asked.
"He works for the civil service," said the plumber, sadly.
It was a salutary lesson in perspective.
If I don't make breakfast soon it's going to metamorphose into brunch. It's 11:30 and feels rather cool out there though the thermometer insists it's a balmy +8C.
This looks interesting. (Link.)
A watched pot...
... boils eventually, of course. And I suspect an awaited son arrives, too. Not so far, though. It's now 16:21. [Pause] Nearly six hours later, the young people have been fed, watered, and entertained by a showing of "RED". They're now returning to London, bearing a few books, DVDs, and my previous satnav. Peter pointed out the original Warren Ellis graphic novel of "RED" on his shelves to show me. It did not detain me for long. They also saw enough of "Scott Pilgrim" to conclude that "it's weird". No argument from me.