Oh Look, It's Christmas!

 

I can't believe how this has suddenly arrived. When last I looked it was 28th November and now it's Christmas Eve. Have spent the last few days in Useless Headless Chicken Mode but somehow have arrived at 24th with everything done bar a bit of last minute wrapping which I shall do later today. This afternoon I'm going to bake. Not quite sure what, possibly lemon drizzle cake, possibly another go at stollen, maybe some gingerbread - who knows? I'll see how I feel when I get into the kitchen.

 

In other news, just for a change for Orkney at Christmas, it's blowing a gale. And has been for days. On the upside son number two got home no bother on Sunday, which made a pleasant change from last years travel related panics and we're all here, snug and warm and relaxed and cheerful.

 

Happy Christmas everyone!

That's not in the book

But then this wasn't in the film




Yesterday I might have found the time and energy to do a blog post had I not been out of the house for 13 hours straight. By the time I got home all I wanted to do was have a quick look at the bathroom progress and fall into bed, which was more or less what I did.

I spent the day at Uni keeping away from the noise and the dirt and the general inconvenience of having no running water for most of the day. At 5 o'clock  the OH picked me up an we had a meal out (not a very nice one as it happens, so I'll refrain from identifying the place concerned. We were rather startled when we arrived to find it very very quiet indeed, because at this time of year and that time of day it used to be a joint that jumped, but two mistakes with our orders, some unpleasant tasting fries and some not very nice desserts later we realised why it was no longer packed out.) And after that we went to see The Hobbit Part 2, aka The Desolation of Smaug.

Now as I've previously mentioned I try to take a relaxed view of novel adaptations for film and TV. Sometimes I can't bear them but when that happens I usually blame myself for being far too fastidious and precious. This was not the case with the BBC version of Gaskell's North and South. That wasn't me being fastidious, that was the BBC determined to produce a travesty. But mostly I'm quite laid back.By the time I had sat through almost 3 hours of Jackson's latest ludicrously self indulgent film making fest however my relaxed attitude had been quite challenged. In fact I seriously doubt whether I'll make a trip to the cinema to see the third instalment; I'll just wait for one of the  boys to buy the DVD and watch it on that.

 

Perhaps you're  wondering if you should go and see the film. If so, just check out the next paragraph and see how many categories you belong to.

This is not a film for a) people who aren't fans of fantasy b) people who have any sort of attachment to the source material c) people who like scripts without glaring non-sequiturs or sudden and inexplicable emotional responses from characters that have no lead or follow up d) people who don't like spiders e) people who get bored with large dark set pieces on camera where you can't make out what's happening beyond a lot of noise f) people who are fans of Hugo Weaving and expecting to see him; because he's not in it, whatever the IMDB says.

 

I fall into four of the six and if you do too, save yourself some time and money and stay home to wrap Christmas presents.

 

It's the cynicism that annoys me more than anything; The Hobbit is a short sharp tale and could have been done nicely in one 2 hour film, preferably before Jackson embarked on LOTR. That would not of course have made anything like as much money as nine overblown hours in three instalments. But it would have been a much much better film.

And so it goes on....

I don't know how people project manage big builds. I really don't. All that we're having is a replacement bathroom but there seems to be an awful lot of coming and going and people not quite dovetailing with others. Par exemple, the painter came this morning to paint the walls. He sat in his van for 90 minutes while the plumber crashed about and drilled stuff, because the plumber got here 5 minutes before the decorator and was therefore able to lay claim to the territory,  and then the painter came and said he was going because there was no point in him hanging about - which is true - and he will come back tomorrow. Not on double time I fervently hope. We are not managing this ourselves, but leaving it to the joiner and given that probably everyone who is working on the project is also working on about five others simultaneously I suppose it's not surprising that things get a bit held up now and again. Me, I just wish it was over and done with.

The Boy Done Good

My elder son is a Dr Who fan(atic). When he was 8 or 9 in order to raise money for Children in Need he and a friend were sponsored by their teachers (and others) to not mention Dr Who for a day. I'm sure it was a struggle. And this is all the more odd because the program's hiatus covered his life from age 7 to 15. So I'm not really sure where this love of Dr Who came from.

 

Be that as it may, he was determined to be at the huge 50th Anniversary Celebrations in London a few weekends ago. He booked, at great expense, a photo opportunity with Matt Smith and generally had a great time, which he recounted to me afterwards in Great and Loving Detail.

 

Except there were a few pertinent details he deliberately left out. Because yesterday when his Christmas card came a little hand written note fell out. It said

 

To Anne

Happy Christmas

David Collings

 

Now David Collings is one of my all time favourite actors. He's never been a big star but he's worked consistently for many years on stage as well on TV and Radio and he has a voice like a cracked peppercorn in honey. I could listen to him all day. I have been lucky enough to see him live on three or four occasions but at no time would the OH thole the idea of hanging round the stage door so that I could get my program autographed. Rather to my chagrin.

 

I knew, because I had watched them, that he had been in three Dr Who stories in three separate series and I assumed from the fact that Son No 1 hadn't mentioned seeing him that he had not in fact been at the Convention. But he was and the little note was the result.

 

It was one of the most wonderful things anyone has ever given me. I was so thrilled I cried. And that's not something I do often. Thank you, A. As my FB friend the Stainless Steel Cat said 'That's a good lad  you've got there.'

 

 

 

This is a very old picture, from a small part he had in A Man for all Seasons. In 1966.  But unmistakeably the man himself.

 

Silence Fell. But honest - it wasn't my fault.

The batteries in my camera recently gave out - after having been in there for what seemed like only five minutes - and in the time between my discovery of that and having an opportunity to buy more we were quite busy. I had perforce to ask the OH to take photos for me to put up on the blog and thus far he has failed to upload them to my laptop from his phone. So I will leave a brief description of our recent highlife until he has done so. It will mean more with pics.

 

One prospective trip out had to be cancelled last week due to the weather. A friend and I had tickets for the livecast of the ROH ballet The Nutcracker last Thursday evening but we decided at the last minute not to risk going. The seas were very high and the barriers officially only 'passable with care'. This is the last step before they are closed and as we would have been coming home at high tide in the black dark we reluctantly decided it wasn't worth risking.

 

In other news I have already had my pre-Christmas meltdown, but I am leaving open an option on fitting in another before the 24th of the month. The fact that we have workmen in starting the bathroom refurbishment is probably contributing quite a lot to the stress levels - and they've only been here 50  minutes!