Lady in London

There is something about London that thrills me every time I visit. I'm not entirely sure I'd like to live there. I get stressed trying to negotiate Oxford on a busy Saturday, London is like that all the time. I'd end up shooting people, I have no doubt.

I'm also quite certain that I'd become impoverished in an astronomically quick time. I'd spend all my time in the National Portrait gallery, in between wandering second hand shops and going to the theatre.

I mentioned the fact that I was going to go to the second hand dept in Foyles - I was expecting to come out with at least one red bag, chock full, and instead what did I come out with?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

No - don't all have heart attacks from the shock - I made up the lack by going into a general secondhand shop and finding four books there - one of them was 'The Yellow wallpaper' by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. I haven't dared read it yet, because I only seem to be at home in the evening, and I'm already trying to deal with the anxiety of having a rocking chair in the house, without worrying that the wallpaper is driving me insane too.

The trip to the theatre was fantastic too. I actually took a picture of the stage before the play started, because it was wonderful, and I'll post it once I've finished the film.* The play was fantastic, and I have become even more of a fan of Eileen Atkins - her comic timing is phenomenal! I waited at the stage door, as is my custom, and got all the cast signatures. Eileen was almost the last, and I ended up holding her beautiful bouquet of flowers so she could sign everyone's programmes. She professed to recognise me from when I saw her in 'The Sea' in April (I was the only one that night, so I suppose it could be true) and was generally very lovely.


Tomorrow I'm off to Abingdon to be profligate again, and am going to have to start thinking about my Friday interview, so I'm not too stressed on Thursday.

* I am now totally convinced of my need for a digital camera. Using Dad's has been totally brilliant over the last months, especially for this blog. It's only taken me about 5 years to convert. I wonder if my feelings over e-readers will ever be changed like this ...

Thrills and Chills

I read The Woman in Black recently and was glad I read it during the day, as I was considerably chilled by the plot. However, that was nothing compared to the way I felt Friday night when I saw the stage play.

Yes, I had been warned that it would frighten the life out of me, but I didn't pay that much attention, especially at the beginning, which seemed to stop and start a great deal. I wasn't sure if it would work with just two actors ...

My doubts on that score were firmly laid to rest however, when the scream came. I hope never to hear such a scream like that as long as I live. It was truly horrific, and I think the temperature of my blood dropped a few degrees.

It's a fantastic play though - one which everyone should go and see - even if it does scare you out of your wits!

Job prospects

This has absolutely nothing to do with books (at least not as far as I can see), but I just wanted to let you all know that in the next couple of weeks I have three (!) job interviews.

Only one of them falls during my week off, but that can't be helped. I'm very excited and terrified at the same time - they are all things I want to do, and will stop me feeling completely useless, so they can't go wrong - too much depends on them!

Being wantonly promiscuous

I have just been over to Cornflower's blog, and have been inspired to talk about my TBR pile, because the phrase 'some of us are profligate and wantonly promiscuous where books are concerned' jumped out at me and made me laugh.

I am nothing if not wanton, and I have some extremely profligate plans this coming week.

I really don't know where to start with my pile. I mean, is it just the few that I've earmarked as needing to be read this month, or does it mean all the books on my shelves that are still unread? I did a little calculation recently and discovered that if I read a book a week, I would have at least enough books to keep me going for SEVEN years. I'll leave everyone to do the maths themselves.

It's not that I don't want to read the books that have been languishing on my shelves unread for months and years, I do. I REALLY do. It's just that whenever I think, ooh - that book might be good to read after the current one, I invariably walk into a shop (charity or proper bookshop) and come out laden with absolute MUSTS!

I won't be helping matters this coming week either. My parents are off to Turkey for the week, so I've taken the week off too. On Saturday I'm going to London with a friend, and in between lunching at the National Portrait Gallery and having afternoon tea at Flemings Mayfair, we are hitting the second hand department in Foyles.

Yes, this is dangerous, if not for my bank balance, then for my back!

Also, I've got a trip here planned. Simon has been giving it the big thumbs up for ages now, and I really want a Persephone book. So who knows how big my TBR pile will be then!

In conclusion, I find I cannot give you a list of things about to be read. It's totally impossible. I should read some more non fiction, because it's been a bit lacking these past few months, but at the moment I have Les Miserables, Daniel Deronda, Cold Comfort Farm, and Murder in the Vicarage on the go ... what is a promiscuous bookworm to do?

End of Austen

After tonight's final episode I have come to the conclusion that I don't think I'll ever be able to read Pride and Prejudice again.
Of course it was all fairly silly, and evidently the writers had tremendous fun messing with the story line, but I have to say that I adored Alex Kingston and Hugh Bonneville as Mr and Mrs Bennett, and think tv Baftas are in order for at least some part of this creation.

Best line of the series? That honour goes to Mr Bingley 'Damn you Darcy, and damn any man that doesn't stay up all night with a candle in his window damning you' ... special mention for his loved up words in this episode: (and I paraphrase) 'We'll go to America, have 25 children and name them all Amanda. Even the boys.'

Fantastic fun. Why don't I have a door in my bathroom?

Hither and Thither

If my posts seem a bit sporadic and lacking real substance, it is because I have a lot on my mind - here's a brief overview.

- I am searching for a new job, because the one I have at the moment is driving me crazy.

- I am completely stuck as to what to read next. It's September, therefore I feel I should be getting lost in large classics, although all I seem to be reading is Agatha Christie.

- Although I do have lots to talk about, everyone else seems to be saying it so much more eloquently!

However, next week I have taken the week off, and apart from making a pilgrimage to Abingdon to visit 'Mostly Books', all I intend to do is sit and read and write my novel. If only someone would pay me to do this ....

Poem of the Week

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You by Pablo Neruda

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

Dogs and such ...

Justine's latest article on what to read has put me in mind of my own canine friend, and although it's been a few years since he died, I still come home expecting a bounding mound of brown fir to greet me. So, here's a picture of the dear old thing:


The upside down Tiger is Fearful - one of six animals my father bought from Hamleys when my two sisters had the last of their children nine years ago ... I think it says a lot for Morgan that he's not attempting to chew the head off, many of my stuffed animals bear the marks of his love ...