Stuff
So where was I?
That’s right, Barcelona. No hold on, that was the Doctor.
I was supposed to be going out for a drink after work tonight but my cold seems to have resurfaced – I am not so sure that it ever went away; it was more like it was taking a breather – so I intend to go home comparatively early and go to bed somewhat earlier than usual dosed up with Lemsip and stuff.
Tomorrow is the young God Daughter’s fourth birthday bash, and I have been and acquired a small pressie for her and tiny brother. I have also bought cheese. The usual ripe Stilton, a nice Berkswell and in the face of the unavailability of Vacherin (who’d have thought that there were seasons for cheeses in this day and age?), I have speculated on something called Douceur du Jura which I have never tried before, but which is apparently very much like Vacherin and is so runny that even though it is whole and has its own rind, it is sold in an earthenware pot to stop it slipping off the table slinky-fashion and making its escape.
I can barely smell them despite the fact that the Stilton on its own should have time-space olfactory qualities.
Tomorrow, then, I shall be in sunny South Cambridgeshire. I am vaguely hopeful that I be able to get by without passing my cough and general lurgy to the kids. The fresh air will do me good. Getting up and out so that I can arrive by about 1 ‘o’clock is less likely to do me good, and I have a fairly poor record of managing to get there before two over the past couple of years.
Still, we’ll see.
I have yet to acquire my shiny new England shirt. It is quite likely that apathy will overtake me in that endeavour and that I shall not acquire one after all. We’ll see.
I am running out of telly to watch. At the moment there is really only Dr Who and House. In theory there is Lost, but I have the first half of the season on my PC and have done for several months. I still haven’t got around to watching past episode nine. I do not know when season three of Galactica starts, but at least the new Stargate1 stuff is only about six weeks off, so I shall be hitting the torrents for that again. For one reason or another, I have missed a number of the final series of West Wing so I am not sure what is going on anymore. I may have to wait until I can borrow the DVDs.
Thursday nights have traditionally been taken up tellywise with House and Without a Trace. The demise of More 4 +1 has made watching the latter problematic. Firstly, reception is not as good on More 4 as it was on More 4 +1 , and secondly losing that one hour transmission lag now places it in direct competition with House. Luckily we have two tellies and two VCRs. Still a bind, though. To add to the annoyance, neither![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
colonel_maxim nor I are entirely certain that we didn’t witness Without a Trace jump the shark in last night’s episode. Our dour FBI favourites were in Mexico, many miles outside their jurisdiction, wearing casuals and short sleeves, taking the piss out of the locals and getting involved cross country chases on a bike. More like a Hispanic Hawaii Five-0 than the gritty New York realism they generally go for.
Oh well. Onwards and upwards.
1A note here for_dawn_treader_ – Jack is back. Richard Dean Anderson will be appearing in a handful of episodes in season 10.
That’s right, Barcelona. No hold on, that was the Doctor.
I was supposed to be going out for a drink after work tonight but my cold seems to have resurfaced – I am not so sure that it ever went away; it was more like it was taking a breather – so I intend to go home comparatively early and go to bed somewhat earlier than usual dosed up with Lemsip and stuff.
Tomorrow is the young God Daughter’s fourth birthday bash, and I have been and acquired a small pressie for her and tiny brother. I have also bought cheese. The usual ripe Stilton, a nice Berkswell and in the face of the unavailability of Vacherin (who’d have thought that there were seasons for cheeses in this day and age?), I have speculated on something called Douceur du Jura which I have never tried before, but which is apparently very much like Vacherin and is so runny that even though it is whole and has its own rind, it is sold in an earthenware pot to stop it slipping off the table slinky-fashion and making its escape.
I can barely smell them despite the fact that the Stilton on its own should have time-space olfactory qualities.
Tomorrow, then, I shall be in sunny South Cambridgeshire. I am vaguely hopeful that I be able to get by without passing my cough and general lurgy to the kids. The fresh air will do me good. Getting up and out so that I can arrive by about 1 ‘o’clock is less likely to do me good, and I have a fairly poor record of managing to get there before two over the past couple of years.
Still, we’ll see.
I have yet to acquire my shiny new England shirt. It is quite likely that apathy will overtake me in that endeavour and that I shall not acquire one after all. We’ll see.
I am running out of telly to watch. At the moment there is really only Dr Who and House. In theory there is Lost, but I have the first half of the season on my PC and have done for several months. I still haven’t got around to watching past episode nine. I do not know when season three of Galactica starts, but at least the new Stargate1 stuff is only about six weeks off, so I shall be hitting the torrents for that again. For one reason or another, I have missed a number of the final series of West Wing so I am not sure what is going on anymore. I may have to wait until I can borrow the DVDs.
Thursday nights have traditionally been taken up tellywise with House and Without a Trace. The demise of More 4 +1 has made watching the latter problematic. Firstly, reception is not as good on More 4 as it was on More 4 +1 , and secondly losing that one hour transmission lag now places it in direct competition with House. Luckily we have two tellies and two VCRs. Still a bind, though. To add to the annoyance, neither
colonel_maxim nor I are entirely certain that we didn’t witness Without a Trace jump the shark in last night’s episode. Our dour FBI favourites were in Mexico, many miles outside their jurisdiction, wearing casuals and short sleeves, taking the piss out of the locals and getting involved cross country chases on a bike. More like a Hispanic Hawaii Five-0 than the gritty New York realism they generally go for. Oh well. Onwards and upwards.
1A note here for
_dawn_treader_ – Jack is back. Richard Dean Anderson will be appearing in a handful of episodes in season 10.