2011 — 14 April: Thursday
Listen to BBC Radio 3 for long enough1 and not only do the same pieces come round again and again2 but you start being able to identify them even when you switch on, as it were, in mid-flow.
My overnight guest has recently departed, breakfastless (by choice) and quiet as a church mouse, to pick up her client from Bognor and then attend the tribunal in Southampton. As I said to her, "I don't have to go to work!" It's now 07:32 and my first cuppa is just about brewed. A grey day by the look of it.
Coming down the Wire
Having just read excerpts from the interview with David Simon, I've popped the "Bill Moyers Journal" book into my Amazon "pre-order" basket. Not that I know all of the people he's interviewed by any means. Nor did I get on at all well with "The Wire", chickening out in episode #1 at the first scene of drug injection...
(Not) Coming down the Wire
Having given up FM reception when my venerable Technics tuner died (though I've left the large roof-top antenna in place), and not ever having bought into either our guvmint-encouraged obsolescent DAB radio system or any of those handy-looking "Ethernet over the mains" Home Plug gadgets, I'm not too worried about this finding from the BBC. (PDF file.)
It's still an interesting read, though. Your mileage may vary.
On a sunnier...
... day than this one, and some time before we installed the first of our two sheds, Christa had a lively youngster on her hands:
It's 11:36 and quite cool.
Regaining parental credibility?
As I totter and tumble towards my twi-lit dotage, I used to think "Well, at least Christa and I did a fair job of exposing Peter to a moderately wide range of cultural experiences." Not so, it seems. Peter's g/f let slip last night the shocking news that he'd never seen "Rocky Horror".3 So I've just nipped down to the End of the Hedge to pick up a cheap Blu-ray of the 35th anniversary version so I can pass my 25th anniversary version "collector's" edition DVD over to him. Temporarily.
I've heard good things about "Alice Creed" and enjoyed Gemma Arterton's performance as "Tamara Drewe" the other night. "Nine" wasn't a title I knew, but looked reasonably enticing. The Annie Ross CDs had been stuffed into my venetian blinds by Mr Postie while I was out. I knew nothing of her until I saw her in Robert Altman's 1993 "Short Cuts" with Lori Singer as her daughter.
Time (14:40) for my next cuppa, methinks.
I expect some might call this little fella a weed:
Somewhat later
I've just waved Peter's g/f off back up to London after taking her out to a tasty meal at "The Bridge". She won her "case". It's now 22:24 and I'm left wondering how to amuse myself for the rest of the evening. The terrible trio have a little walk planned for tomorrow morning, so the excess calories will get burned off.