That done it was off for a rushed coffee and sweetie at the Lebanese grocer. I was hoping for a relaxing wallow of people watching but it was not to be so. At least coffee outside a shop with hookahs in the window can be had for the price of a bus fare (just as well as I'm not going anywhere further than my Zone 2 buss pass, apparently). Picked up some dates and figs, and some green tea at the Korean grocers nearby, and resisted the urge to but the 70s coffee set in the op shop window. At least the ethnic grocers survive in the face of the hideous mall they built nearby.
Home in time to watch the Saint (oh, really), then it was me still hacking up the bits of my beloved ex trees in the front yard, then down to the local shops to lug back bags of potting mix, and when lugging 25L bags of potting mix uphill, one laments that the local shops aren't quite as local as they might be.
Washing gathered back in then tea, which was my roast beef, on account of finally having explained iron deficiency to Himself. Actually, tea was ridicuolously mother country, what with roast beef and worchestershire sauce gravy, yorkshire pud, to be followed with spotted dick and devonshire cream (yes, Treats from Home had been having a moving - eek! - sale). Hmmm, it probably says something that most of my comfort food is British, but there we are. All scoffed down while watching Dr Who. Just like being there. Not. Nice try, though, but I reserve the right to sulk and sulk and then sulk some more.
I shouldn't like to consider my carbon footprint as tins and packets from the UK, NZ, Greece, Turkey, Korea, etc went into the recycling, but at least I bought a Victa mower locally. And it swears it's an eco-mower, as if the dirty great coal burning electricity stations that have to power it for three days per go aren't enormous polluters and users of finite resources, but there you go.
TV? Well, the Saint, obviously (which explains the being frogmarched around the shops) and Merlin on Sunday. There was a cheesy 'Making of" special preceding the adventures of young Merl, and I thought it was just gonna be a hack job of spliced together dvd extras, and it was, a bit, but no, actual interviews with cast done especially for Channel Ten. Well, there you go. The girls were cuteness itself with their run through the sets. Bless. And Colin blabbed spoilers. Tony was Tony, Bradley was Bradley and Richard was Richard.
And we finally got up to episode #10, which was the first episode of Merlin I ever saw. It's pretty much your bog standard Xena episode but it has nice moments and slashy moments, with the boys's friendship taking steps forward and backward (Merlin's intial thrill that Arthur followed him being shattered when Will reminds him he is a fraud), Arthur taking his first steps towards leadership (with Merlin and Gwen tellingly propping him up), though now in that scene where Arthur gets all self doubty all I can think of it poor Bradley turning blue from hypothermia in the inclement weather. And there's some really great scenes, like Merlin with the dragon, Merlin delight in Arthur and near beheading of same, the bedtime chats and tickling, the putting on of armour. There's a lot of give and take in this episode, lots of Merlin background and lots of Merlin growing up and growing beyond his small village concerns. Lots of big picture (Uther) versus immediate concerns and how the boys must negotiate both. Both boys grow up quite a bit during the course of the episode. The girls are great, too, and Hunith is already picking out her outfit for court (My boy bagged a prince!). For a tired old Magnificent 7 rehash, there's a lot going on. Next week: unicorns! Oh dear.
And I discovered the peanut gallery has never seen Princess Bride. Inconceivable! So now I'm going to be chuckling obscurely for the next two episodes. Oh well.
Also watched Marple (because I only watch shows aimed at 7 year olds or 70 year olds, apparently), which featured Rafe Spall, being rather wasted, imho, but that's just me. Oh, and I saw Castle too, as it was so late it actually started after Marple. It's silly but I still have a soft spot for Mr Fillon, so I watched (and besides, what sort of housework could I be doing at 11pm? Competently?).
Especially as I'm still claiming to be concussed. Oh yeah, I still don't know where the grapefruits are coming from but I know the identity of their winged messengers, one of whom conked me with one as a corrective measure for not getting the seed bell out sharpish (I was asleep, oh slothful wretch that I am). I know no one is gonna believe me about being conked on the head with a flying grapefruit but it still put me off my game for the rest of the day. Unwisely, perhaps, I made a start on the new orchard, with the orange tree and grapefruit in. They're only wee so it's a while before my trees bother anyone. Again. I also potted up some geranium cuttings I made from the poor geraniums I had to cut back at the front fence.
Oh yeah, Being Human was up to the Gilbert the 80s ghost episode, whereupon I discovered they'd licenced none of the music, so it sucked totally. Why do they do that? It's so annoying.Especially if the somg is an important part of the narative, which these were. Blast and botheration. I still love Gilbert, though.
Oh, and the Saint on Sunday was amusing, mainly because it was set in Welsh caves, complete with rustic local who warned them not to go down into the caves because no one ever came back (no doubt on account of the giant maggots/giant ants/weevils/yeti/sekrit Torchwood base - if you drop your wallet, kick it home). The episode itself wasn't anything to rave about, with an evil guy trying to off a trusting fop and claim it was an accident/maggots/ants etc, but we had fun, throwing everything at it, even a Time Team reference. Needless to say, Simon saved the day. Though do I really need more Welsh set tv this week? I'll be talking like a Taff by the end of it.
PM update: servers was downs again so I went home with a headache. A cup of tea, a biccie (from my brand new Harrods biscuit tin, which is shiny and oh, help, this biscuit tin thing is getting dangerous) and some Maverick, and, well, I wasn't good to go but I've just spent a coupla fun hours catching up with the flist (whom I am proud to know, completely ignoring the celeb news but all doffing of caps for Mrs Slocombe). And Maverick, those bitches, were taking the piss outta Gunsmoke this time and oh, you bitches. Me-ow! But funny as hell and pretty spot on. As before, I was cryin' and guffawin' over just how damn vicopis they were. I'll never be able to view the opening titles of Gunsmoke ever, ever again, and the bit with the local tribe? Too funny (or as Peanut Gallery whined: "Stop being post-modern, you haven't stopped being modern yet"). For a 50s show, it was very, very post modern, like a modern show, sucked back in time.
SPN is supposed to be all post-modern tonight, but I reckon Maverick will win. They always do. I wonder why, though a great many shows rip into the fanbase (and is that wise?) few these days rip into other shows. I guess it's so they won't sue their arses, but, oh my, it was funny. I ain't ever gonna be able to watch Gunsmoke again. Bad Maverick. Good Maverick. Wicked Maverick.
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