On the list for the next couple of weeks:
- Massacre the weeds in the garden, chop down a dying tree, transplant a sick azalea to nearer where the happy azalea lives.
- Put on another brew, since I'm now down to the last 30 bottles.
- Plan Albert's relaunch as an HNT star.
- Read. I have just finished a couple of books by a super writer called Rachel Seiffert. Before that, I gave up early on a Danish novel which ticked all the postmodern boxes - unrelated chapters, confusing flashbacks, cardboard characters, but it was impossible to care about a single outcome. I learned long ago how to (pre)judge a book by its cover, or at least by its first few pages.
Some movies are like that, and you can save yourself a lot of time by learning how to bale out of a film early, ideally during the opening credits. My first bale-out was watching Top Gun or The Right Stuff in Leicester Square. Poor Angie had been enjoying Tom Cruise and was annoyed at having to walk out with me. She should have read it as a sign of things to come, but then she might not have moved in with me and I might not be alive now. That just goes to prove something or other.
Went to a concert last night, an Australian orchestra playing Mozart and Mendelssohn. The ringing in the ears has not let up since the duneditin atrocity, so I took along a selection of earplugs of varying strengths. In the long run, if I can't cure it with bliss pills, I may be forced to consider meditation.
Albert? Sorry about the ringing in your ears! It's all my fault. When you said you were going to give us a lift and then dumped us in the middle of nowhere, what I said must have left your ears ringing. You're lucky. Folk who mess fall ill all the time. Very disconcerting! On the other hand, to balance things up, all you have to do is concentrate on the ringing. It's your own special sound, and that'll be ten percent off the top, please. Hotboy
ReplyDeleteI was thinking it was the explosion at the venue. Deifheid recruiting drive.
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