My Austere Endorsement
Nov. 15th, 2010 12:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisyThis was going about last year, and thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gfrancie I've found it again. So for those who've not read it, savour Marney's Thanksgiving letter. Don't forget the turnips.
Last night I watched Bright Star, the film about John Keats. More about his girlfriend, really. If the film is any guide, Keats' life consisted of moping about before dying. He did once demonstrate the Highland Fling at a Christmas party. It was probably the exertion from that that killed him. I find a certain delight in these films when someone coughs. Coughing in a period film is never good.
Did any of you read the Bagthorpe Saga by Helen Cresswell? For those who didn't, it was a series of children's novels about about a family in which every member, except the most likeable one, was a self-proclaimed genius. And hijinks ensued. In one book, Mr Bagthorpe, a highly-strung writer of BBC drama serials, won a competition to have a getaway at a health farm, where he lost weight he didn't really need to lose, giving him a rather gaunt air. Which pleased him, because it meant he could swan about dramatically like, as his brother-in-law said, the dying Keats. That's what Bright Star made me think of. I loved those books.
The world seems to have got together and had a chat and decided that last week was the start of the festive season. The weekend paper even had a 'best and worst of 2010' feature, which seems a little early. Despite that, there's somewhere that's not festive, though, and that's my workplace. Would you cross your fingers or send good thoughts my way tomorrow, f-list? Merger madness is on us again and I think it's going to get nasty. Nastier.
gfrancie I've found it again. So for those who've not read it, savour Marney's Thanksgiving letter. Don't forget the turnips. Last night I watched Bright Star, the film about John Keats. More about his girlfriend, really. If the film is any guide, Keats' life consisted of moping about before dying. He did once demonstrate the Highland Fling at a Christmas party. It was probably the exertion from that that killed him. I find a certain delight in these films when someone coughs. Coughing in a period film is never good.
Did any of you read the Bagthorpe Saga by Helen Cresswell? For those who didn't, it was a series of children's novels about about a family in which every member, except the most likeable one, was a self-proclaimed genius. And hijinks ensued. In one book, Mr Bagthorpe, a highly-strung writer of BBC drama serials, won a competition to have a getaway at a health farm, where he lost weight he didn't really need to lose, giving him a rather gaunt air. Which pleased him, because it meant he could swan about dramatically like, as his brother-in-law said, the dying Keats. That's what Bright Star made me think of. I loved those books.
The world seems to have got together and had a chat and decided that last week was the start of the festive season. The weekend paper even had a 'best and worst of 2010' feature, which seems a little early. Despite that, there's somewhere that's not festive, though, and that's my workplace. Would you cross your fingers or send good thoughts my way tomorrow, f-list? Merger madness is on us again and I think it's going to get nasty. Nastier.