1. Andrew's a good friend to someone having a bad day by helping them write a policy motion to tackle one of the things that made their day shitty.
(Lib Dem friends are the best friends.)
and I both chose the same beer with our lunch today, him because he liked the name, me because I liked the picture.
Every time we show an interest in one of the Oakham Ales, we hear about how the pub we're in is one of only eight in Yorkshire that has them, and how the brewery people come and check everything about the pub before they decide if it's worthy, and I think they like having the chance to brag so I'm happy to listen. Paranoid is apparently a beer Oakham brew only once a year, which is a bit of a shame because it's amazing and I'd love more of it. But there are always other nice beers.
3. There are always nice beers.
4. For the past few days I've been casting cursory glances at the pile of dirty dishes, the new-heights-of-untidiness in our bedroom, and the basketsful of clean and dirty laundry, thinking I know I have to sort all this out. Can't wait until I feel like that's a thing I can do.
Today, I sorted out all those things. And cleaned the bathroom. And made myself a proper dinner with vegetables in it.
(I can push myself to do a thing even if it's not a thing I can do -- sometimes things just have to get done -- but it tends to leave me neither mentally nor physically well, and I've learned that after a few days of feeling like such things are insurmountable, I'll wake up one day and just...be able to do them. I got all this done on a day when I was hardly even in the house! Whereas yesterday I was home all day and was barely able to feed myself.)
5. I watched "Baby,"
one of Nigel Kneale's Beasts
(James was delighted that I liked The Stone Tape
, which he lent me after I complained
about the sexist, ableist, boringest film The Quiet Ones
and I can totally see why, because The Stone Tape
is basically the not-shit version of the same idea, and between my positive reaction to that and James's conviction that I need to see Quatermass and the Pit
and then all the other Quatermasses, I think there will be a fair amount of Nigel Kneale in my life for a while, and on the evidence of what I've seen so far I'm perfectly fine with that.)
We talked about how good Kneale is at conveying a lot in a few words, something really admirable in any genre but absolutely great for horror. And a lot of the horror here isn't about the story's supernatural element at all, it's about the awful situation this poor woman would be in anyway, and the very mundanity of how badly she's treated by her husband, his boss, his
wife, even the builders who upset and patronize her, makes it feel very claustrophobic and bleak even before the supernatural horror turns up.
This probably doesn't make it sound like much fun but I really enjoyed it, despite becoming so sensitive in my old age that I yell at Andrew for even just telling me anything that happens on Hannibal
nowadays and got upset yesterday at the fate of fictional babies in an Onion article.