2011 — 24 October: Monday
A night of broken sleep1 has left me mildly groggy, but my breakfast mango, and some jaunty David Munrow (of "Pied Piper") music, are helping with that. It seems to have been windy. The barometer is plummeting though it's sunny at the moment. Supplies need to be gathered in at some point, and there's an Aged P in the care-home to drop in on, preferably before she completely forgets who I am.
It's 08:52, Mrs Landingham. What's next?
Our non-tabloid press...
... staggers from one low to the next (though I grant you the possibility of satiric intent in Hadley's case, as she's an amusing writer). Source and snippet:
To paraphrase Inigo Montoya in The Princess Bride, you keep using that word, Christian. But I do not think it means what you think it means. So unless you are intimating that "having an orgasm" is a fancy way of saying "having bunions", then no, wearing your insanely high shoes is not like having an orgasm. Unless you've been doing it wrong, and on that, I cannot possibly comment.
Thanks to Zeno, I can see (more) clearly now! (Link.)
The laundry is whirling around. I shall just give Mr Postie a couple of minutes to do the same and then head for the shops. The sky is blue, the sun is bright, and it's jolly breezy out there. [Pause] My happiness — and my Castle DVD collection — is now complete :-)
And what better way to celebrate than to crack open an elderly can2 of cashew nuts and scoff a few with my (now, just crept into afternoon) coffee?
Live dangerously. That's my new motto.
The BBC feather...
... warcast looks (from the windy grey skies) more or less on target. I've certainly brought the washing in off the line before it ends up getting wetter. Lunch having been lunched, I shall saddle up the Yaris and set off for my family rendezvous. What jolly good fun. Now, where did I put that smile?
Later
Dear Mama has been seen, though I think it's fair to say she will already have forgotten by now (now being 17:57 or so). I dropped by Len on my way home to pick up a couple of files, surprising him in the immediate aftermath of his back jungle clearance mission. (If he [ever] gets the undergrowth under control, his two new kittens will have somewhere to explore.) And as the twilight darkens yet further it looks as if we're in for a wet and windy evening as predicted. The barometer is firmly on "Veränderlich" — no surprise there, then.
Later still
A few years ago3 I bought and read a very (very) scary 1966 novel by DF Jones called "Colossus"...
... It was filmed in 1970 as "The Forbin project" and today I finally spotted it on DVD in the pile of recommendations that Amazon will keep on, erm, recommending. Oddly, DF Jones also wrote one of the only two SF novels I have actually been too scared to finish, but that's another story :-)