139. Eyes Down, Look In.

HOME.

A holiday break to remember.
Throughout the festive season we have been invited to meals by our entire family. It has been a pleasant and memorable time for us.
Hope Christmas was kind to you, too, and that you will have a healthy, peaceful and prosperous 2010.
Anonymous John.
Our old pal forwarded the following.
Well it made me laugh, John.
http://www.eyegas.com/sproutifarts/
That window.
Thought I’d bring you up to date with the replacement window saga previously mentioned in Post 136.
Our builder approached the Council’s listed buildings department (not a move I’d have made) and was told that we would have to apply for planning permission enclosing photostat evidence of when the current window was installed etc.
I had a good swear and my Leader took over.
She spoke to our solicitor who searched the house deeds for evidence and eventually unearthed what appeared to be partial proof that the job was done in 1973, thought to be the year before the unstately pile was listed.
We are keeping our fingers crossed. I am keeping right out of it.
Maureen will deal with them.
She is younger, kinder and far more tolerant of their bureaucratic claptrap than am I.
The weather.
Hoped not to mention it again but hasn’t the weather been gross?
Snowfalls, black ice, torrential rain; hardly anywhere has escaped it.
We have avoided the worst of it.
That’s one advantage of living on the Isle of Wight.
Seems we even escaped the Triffids…

TELEVISION.

The Day of the Triffids.
Dougray Scott and Joely Richardson, assisted by Brian Cox and a likeable supporting cast, took on Eddie Izzard at his most hateful, Vanessa Redgrave at her least likeable, and several fields full of stinging, blinding, carnivorous cacti at their less than believably mobile.
It was the silliest story John Wyndham ever wrote and no amount of jiggery-pokery with the plot could disguise that.
Finally though, with the whole of Britain lined up on the menu, it transpired that the Isle of Wight was Triffid free,
Surprised me.
I would have thought they’d be invited over to join the Council.
Never mind, it was good holiday viewing and I enjoyed every daft minute of it.
Dr. Who.
David Tennant’s demise took almost as long as the never ending departure of ol’ Tel Wogan.
Russell T. Davies wrote a terrific exit for the Doctor.
We were all turned into replicas of a blonde John Simm (it took years off me): there was a lot of shouting and groaning from David Tennant, some lovely acting by a splendid cast - no apologies for picking out dear old Bernard Cribbins again - and finally a succession of cameo appearances by star characters from past series and the spin-offs thereof.
It all made for great holiday viewing and, yes, I enjoyed every daft minute of it.
Victoria Wood’s Midlife Christmas.
Hurray! She’s back!
And with her a host of cherished favourites including Julie Walters’s self-obsessed actress Bo Beaumont (Mrs. Overall in Acorn Antiques) who, seeking to rekindle her declining career, disdainfully refuses to join the ‘bush tucker’ tribe on Celebrity Big Brother with the scathing observation that if she is ever that desperate for work she will just become a guest in Countdown’s Dictionary Corner. (One could almost hear the “Ouch” from Geoffrey Durham.)
There was a splendid skit entitled Lark Pies To Cranchesterford in which a comely lass left her Mar and Par and went to work in a Post and Potato Office. There was a spoof Apprentice sketch and there was the marvellous Ballad of Barry and Freda (Let’s Do It!) incorporating a final dance routine straight out of Busby Berkeley.
Welcome back Victoria Wood!
What else was on?
Well there was a two-part Cranford, a Marple, the ubiquitous David Tennant appearing as Hamlet and again as a QI panellist, the hundredth Taggart, a few interesting Celebrity Masterminds, loads of repeats in different guises and, on Christmas Day, an animated version of the children’s picture book The Gruffalo which was arguably the best holiday offering of them all.
And what is coming soon?
The new series of CSI/NY is on the way and we shall find out who was bumped off for seeking too big a pay rise…
NCIS is due back (cheers!), and…
Lark Rise to Candleford will be happily mar-ing and par-ing again; good old Ruraltania!

READING.

A mini library.
Even as I struggle to conclude my current couple of fascinating reads (find I get slower and slower with age), Christmas has brought a mini library of book gifts to my side table.
So now I not only have Corduroy Mansions and No Time For Goodbye to finish but Louis Sachar’s Dogs Don’t tell Jokes: Terry Wogan's Where Was I? and - a tour de force - The Penguin TV Companion to tackle.
I have also been given The ultimate RONNIE BARKER collection of 12 DVDs to watch.
Cannot help but wonder how I shall manage to cope now that all these new telly series are starting.
Well I shan’t abandon anything.
The books will take even longer to finish and the list of unseen recordings may reach sixty odd, that’s all.
I’m not bothered.
Nobody’s holding a gun to my head.
Back soon if I’m not reading or watching.