Today I’m still quite croaky and sneezing a lot, but it’s better than yesterday, hurrah. Hey, I might even be allowed back into normal society soon. Hmm, can normal society (whatever that is) cope with that??
"I adored this short story of love as we seldom examine it; that love has many forms and many uses, fulfilling a variety of needs, all different, all necessary to our well-being. The first thought to strike me hard was that Anne Brooke paints beauty into a lined, lived-in face, and I’m very grateful that she does in a world where beauty is so often marked not by time but the skill of a surgeon. This very fact gives the story a depth right from the start that is missing in many books. The second thing to strike me was how descriptively she illustrates the problem all creative people face between living their day-to-day lives and spending time with their muse...and, in some cases, preferably with their muse. There’s a quintessential eeriness to this story reminiscent of the unfounded belief that the camera steals our souls along with our likenesses...for why else does an old man grow weaker as the artist paints him, except from human frailty and life, of course. This story leaves a disturbing, bittersweet taste, yet is undeniably haunting and memorable. Well worth the read!"
Thanks very much, Sharon - I really appreciate that!
Back in the office, we’re all having a lot of fun with the new national sport of laughing at MPs and their expenses. We thought we might set ourselves up as moat cleaning experts and wait for the money to roll in. Actually I really rather fancy a moat. Though I’m not sure it’s something I can justifiably ask Estates & Facilities to provide. And if Lord H and I started digging one at home, I’d only worry about the neighbours falling into it. They’re not in the first flush of youth, after all. Ho hum.
At work, I’m busy writing up the notes that the lovely Rosemary took at the rather complex meeting I missed on Monday. I must say her handwriting is a hundred times better than the boss’s, so that side of it is a joy. But I do think they seem to have discussed much the same things that were discussed at the meeting last month, but in a different order. Ah the life of a Minutes Secretary is a rollercoaster ride, don’t you know.
I was planning to stay inside where it’s warm at lunchtime, eat my special Starbucks prawn sandwich and read a book – but I forgot to bring the book, dammit. So I’ll have to find something else to distract me. Mind you, my spirits were raised by my first Starbucks decaff cappuccino in the new office. Wonderful – tastes just as nice as it did in the old office. The only problem is the longer walk rather more open to the elements to get it, but hey that’s splitting hairs.
Tonight, we’re staying in and I’m medicating with Lemsip whilst wondering why once again there’s nothing on TV. I’ll have to do a Sudoku instead and wait for the schedules to improve. From the look of next week’s Radio Times though, it isn’t going to be soon. We’re also fascinated by the local candidates for the upcoming European elections – all the usual suspects are represented and then there’s also about six or seven parties with a variety of names, all of whom basically hate Europe. How very Surrey. Oh, and let’s not forget the one sad representative of the Roman Party. What the heck do they stand for? A return to the Empire?? Who knows …
Today’s nice things:
1. A review for Painting from Life
2. Laughing at MPs and their moats
3. Prawn sandwiches
4. Decaff cappuccino
Causes Anne Brooke Supports