I like that though, being declared having "suffered enough". Would that I could use that as a pass for other equally fractious facets of my life.
And I like the wee little elf I found. He looks very Rankin Bass, hence the appeal.
But I think I'll save the rest of my shop for next week, foolhardy though that may be, it's just that my poor head is wobbling around too much (flu, jetlag, hormones, pain killers) and I shouldn't trust myself out and about sans adult supervision.
At least I've only one to shop for now. Administratively easy (in theory, I've yet to receive the list), but rather sad, when you think about it (and I do think the rats coulda waited a year or three before doing what they did, I'm just sayin').
Last night's telly? Well, I went home extraordinarily early so there was a cuppa on the couch and a half watched Midsomer in amongst administrivia (Mrs Barnaby's interests had turned to the theatre this ep and suure enough am drams started dropping like flies and we tried very hard not to go to the Hot Fuzz place but did not suceed, alas, and how sad am I that I got a couple of the jokes, oh, look at me, three plays and I'm theatre slut). Bemused that auld Barnaby was seen reading the Guardian - I'd have not have pegged him thus.
Then there was Time Team, Robin Hood (necessary Gis fix since I am Lucas deprived) and Life on Mars. Bemused at how I could not see any Sexby in Sam Tyler at all, not a bit. I guess that's why they're good actors, the same way there's no shade of McNulty lurking about Cromwell. Damn, missed the last two eps of Devil's Whore, no, don't tell me how it turned out, and, even more distressing, no release date for any dvd at Amazon - whimper.
It was kinda fun, watching Brit telly, just there, lovely stuff. Well, the quality stuff I watched, anyway, the rest I despair of. Speaking of which, we had the new Wallace and Gromit last week. Heh heh heh. I'm not sure how we managed that when it takes years to get other stuff, but there you are. Seen it. So there.
Sorry, getting fiesty, when really I think I'd just rather wallow in my bobble-headedness (and apologies to all those to whom I've not replied, net acess is non existant at work and hormones, heat and violent thunderstorms and the old roster system have made getting online just too problematic this week).
Damn, was looking forward to reading my Wooster on the bus home but now I'm kept back late due to diva performances and I'll have to stand, if I can actually get on the bus at all (doesn't bode well for baubles, either). And, since I'm on the subject, while being well versed in Fleming so I probably shouldn't raise too much of an eyebrow, but there's a character in this Wodehouse book called Willie Cream...
Opera, politics and cheese projects on hold as Blur join reformation era
It's official: Men really are the weaker sex
Roman temple unearthed in Notts