Is it just me or is getting back into the normal routine post-holiday just hell? It feels like a non-day really, the calm before the storm of work. A space between two definite engagements. Groan. I was vaguely thinking of popping into the Quakers again today, but couldn't be arsed, frankly. So I have had a super-non-spiritual day tripping my way down the primrose path to sin. As it were. I think that might be some kind of Medieval image, but can't think where it comes from - possibly Chaucer? Who can say?
Lord H has been busy typing up his latest essay, which he has to give in tomorrow. Tomorrow! I ask you! I should rename him LastMinutedotCom. Anyway, he's done it and I've proofread it now, so honour is satisfied. Thank goodness we didn't have anything planned though.
Have also done some of the ironing whilst watching my video of last week's "New Tricks". Not enough jokes in this episode, I think - I missed the usual quick-fire routine, but it won't be the same without it, as sadly it was the last in the series. Hope they start a new series soon. We've also got "The Last Detective" on the video, but probably won't watch it till later in the week, if there's time, as Lord H is still playing around with the essay.
Oh, and I finished a couple of books whilst on holiday: Peter Gaunt's Oliver Cromwell was utterly marvellous, and I really must get the full biography, as this was only a shortened version. Well worth a read if you're into historical biographies, or just into Cromwell. As I am. I also read Jon Mcgregor's So many ways to begin. Having loved Mcgregor's first novel (If nobody speaks of remarkable things), I was really looking forward to this, but I didn't find it quite so inspirational, to be honest. Being Mcgregor, it's probably still a work of genius, but really way too depressing to take on holiday. I think you have to be feeling emotionally strong to read it and, as I haven't felt emotionally strong since 1975, that was a bit of a bummer.
Have also just today finished off Richard Grayson's The Silicon Valley Diet - gay short stories. With bite. Very quirky, but probably way too post-modern for me to get the point of them. Good writing indeed (though being me I could have done with more sex - and you people thought there wasn't enough sex in A Dangerous Man (http://www.flamebooks.com/product.asp?prodId=32) - ha! I say, ha! Michael definitely sees more action than anyone in TSVD!...), but I may have missed the quintessential meaning of it all. So no surprises there then.
Tonight, Lord H and I will be glued to "Midsomer Murders" on TV - but how I wish they'd put it on earlier in the evening. I've already squeezed in one nap today, and feel I'll still have trouble lasting the course. Ah well, I never was a great mover or shaker - even in my teenage years, I was the one curled up with a good book and a lemonade come 9pm on a Saturday night. Which may explain why I'm currently living out all my wicked stuff by writing it. Hey ho.
And I've thought about writing more of The Bones of Summer, but can't raise the energy levels. Bugger, eh?
This week's haiku:
Over level plains
wind turbines glide like giraffes:
beauty built by man.
Today's nice things:
2. Reading about Cromwell
3. Finding a gay male writer who writes less sex than I do - aha!