Well, the weather's been lovely at least - very unseasonal. The temperatures are higher than Cairo. I've seen flies and butterflies and bees. And the birds are mating and nesting. And the plants are heaving into life. They're all going to get one heck of a shock if there's another cold spell.
There's just absolutely nothing on on television at present. I don't mean just tonight - I mean throughout the week. I think that the only programmes in the schedule I look out for are Jonathan Creek and the fly-on-the-wall documentary The Cruise. Both of these are on BBC1 so what price Cable?
I suppose that that accounts for the fact that I've been using other media a lot - radio and talking books mainly as my concentration to actually read is shot. Before Christmas I sang the praises if Patricia Cornwell's crime detection novels about Medical Chief Examiner, Dr Kay Scarpetta. By co-incidence, the hit of the post Christmas season (thanks to an excellent Christmas present from my parents) has been the three Arthurian novels by Bernard CornwellThe Winter King, Enemy of God and Excalibur. (I can't imagine that the two authors are actually related but it makes you think)
Anyhow, the novels are a fascinating take on the legends of Arthur, trying to filter them as real 5th Century history and representing them in terms of the clash between pagans and Christians, Celts and Saxons. I'd say that they were in with a shout for books of the year.
Chewing the fat with Phil on the phone last night, he was commiserating with me and trying to sell the joys of singlehood. Can't say I'm personally impressed. He was asking me if I was doing anything different now that Ross isn't here and, if the answer's in the affirmative, well, it's more to do with things that I'm not doing. Like talking and hugging and cuddling.
I suppose the television has been on less. And I listened to Elgar's 3rd Symphony as completed by Anthony Payne on Radio 3 last night - really rather good. I've reclaimed the dining room table where I'm writing now from the art materials that usually swamped it. But on the whole, I'd give them all up to have Ross back healthy and happy.
I've just about been coping at work by the way. The company's a tonic and it does
take my mind off things but Cyril hates being on his own all day after six months of
constant company.