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| Live scenes from my house |
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| My lovely covers! |
The writing hiatus ends soon. Tomorrow, actually. I'll be back on track with the first draft of Leeza McAuliffe, Book 2 before you know it. I do know what the title's going to be, but it's way too soon to start bandying it around. However, knowing it at this early stage feels incredibly freeing. Usually, it's hanging over me. I'll be knee deep in edits and the end's in sight but I've still to come up with the name. Until I have a title, I can't commission a front cover and I can't crack on with a load of other jobs to do with the marketing and promotion of the thing. Maybe with a title early doors, it'll be a million times easier this go. Lolz. Who am I kidding? Still, it's a nice position to be in and I'm relishing it.
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| Julia Child |
A long weekend means only one thing - great TV. Sky has given us Julia - an eight part series about the life of Julia Child. Sarah Lancashire is leading the cast and it's so much fun. Then there's The Thief, His Wife, and the Canoe on ITV. Part One was last night, and there are two more to go. That incredulous story from 2007, about the guy who faked his own death, has been reenacted again. It's as strange as its true and the first ep was a decent watch. What else? If you've the stomach, the House of Maxwell (BBC iPlayer) gave a forensic insight into the life of Robert Maxwell and his daughter Ghislaine. It was fascinating, compelling, and pretty grim in its detail. I've still to watch the Jimmy Savile doc on Netflix, despite everyone saying I should, mainly because I need to spread the bleak sex-offender docs between lighter fare. In related, but completely different vibe news, I listened to Jen Kirkman's stand up album, OK, Gen-X, on a long drive last week. Her take down of Louis CK and her riffs on women having to navigate the pervs in the world, was very funny, and supremely satisfying. I laughed a lot, driving over the Pennines, at midnight, as the sky outside tried to snow. Now that was bleak in a whole other way.
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| The funniest gravy boat in all the land, you say? Why, this one, of course. |
Last week I went for a Sunday roast at my local pub. The veggie option was a non-specific 'vegan wellington' but I was mainly there for the roasties so I ordered it with the lowest of expectations. Reader, it was amazing. An individual pastry dome encasing a mushy mash of nuts, onions, carrots, sage, and stuffing-type stuff. I fear my description has not done it justice - I can see why the menu kept it vague - but it was glorious. Smothered with gravy and served with the aforementioned roasties, parnisps and veg, I was a fan. I've yet to recreate it at home, but I reckon if I whack a pastry top over a box of Paxo, some extra onions and grated carrot, I won't be far off.
Out and About
I've gone nowhere! Although, randomly, with the slight lift in temperatures yesterday, I reverted to the lockdown weekend nights of the recent past. The fire pit, a picky bits tea, and the outdoor blankets and cushions to comfy up the garden chairs. For a change, it was nice. How soon I've forgotten, that's all there was for a couple of years.
Here's hoping all our jeans still fasten and we can successfully wean ourselves off absentmindedly pushing chocolate into our mouths at every opportunity. It's an aim of sorts.
Have a lovely week, folks.
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