Meanwhile...
Still working on writing up Turkey - I want to include pictures, and haven't got around to downloading them from the camera properly yet. Eventually, eventually.
In the meantime I had my first day back at work yesterday, which was such fun that I spent last night and this morning applying for two jobs: assistant librarian at the Kennel Club (possibly readvertised from last September), and an acquisitions librarian at the Tate, whose article I refuse to drop, even if called to interview. As if catching up with the news clippings from the Northwick Park drug trial weren't enough of a downer, the High Heid Yin has decided to quibble with the Dumpling's proposed new timetable on the grounds of uneven staffing across the borough, and wishes to defer any changes until the completion of a staffing review. Which will probably have to wait on the council getting its act together about the new First Contact recruitment, which won't even start until May - which doesn't sound unreasonable, except I've been unhappy and asking for a change to my hours since December. There's still a slim hope, as the Dumpling spotted they had miscalculated some of the hours. Being upset, I spread it around a little by regretting not taking the job in February, announcing that the next CILIP Gazette was out on Friday, becoming tearful, and allowing them to think that my blood test yesterday to check my iron levels and cholesterol was to do with fatigue. Hopefully they'll also realize that the staffing will be a lot more uneven if they're one person down during a staffing freeze, than if they're a little low one day a fortnight. But I can't cope with the timetable as it is; psychologically more than physically, I need two consecutive days away from work more than once a fortnight.
Today I met up with parrot_knight to visit the Royal Academy for the Three Emperors exhibition. It was predictably fantastic, but (inevitably, given that it closes in ten days) too crowded for true enjoyment. By the ninth gallery neither of us was taking much in. The highlights were some fine wood carving and silk; Giovanni Castiglione S.J.'s paintings of horses, which showed an understanding of horse psychology; two cats on a scroll painting the subject of which escapes me; and the series of Ten Fine Dogs by Ignaz Sichelbarth, which I would commend to the attention of bunn, as they were all sighthounds.
The rest of the afternoon was spent cruising that small stretch of Tottenham Court Road between Habitat and Carpenter's Cargo Home Shop in search of a joint wedding present for foradan and Meglorien. I'd hoped to get something from Heals (whose founder Sir Ambrose Heal had a Harrow connection which presently escapes me), but in the end we picked something from Habitat.
malaheed and I have been watching rather more telly than usual. We've bought the DVD box set of American Gothic, which both of us had been wanting to see more of since Channel 4 did its usual trick of ensuring that no-one knew when to tune in from one week to the next. Impressions so far: Gary Cole deliciously creepy and evil; nicely ambiguous treatment of supernatural powers; consistently stunning performances from Lucas Black as Caleb Temple; but a bit heavy on the moody ghost scenes and light on plot so far. Hopefully the plot will thicken right before the inevitable axe at the end of season 1.
We've also been catching the repeats of Life on Mars on BBC4. I had missed this first time round and was initially a bit dubious after being so disappointed with Doctor Who, Rome, Casanova and everything but Gillian Anderson's luminous performance in Bleak House, so it was a treat to see that good television is still coming out of the BBC. John Simms consistently impresses as the lead character Sam Tyler (and yes, fellow 'Scapers, the name causes double takes!), a police inspector who is run over by a car and suddenly finds himself in 1973. Apart from the excellence of the soundtrack and the period detail, the show has a light touch in comparing and contrasting then and now and also in retaining ambiguity about whether it's all really in Tyler's head; but above all, it's got heart, somehow; it isn't cynical. It's probably next on the DVD purchase list.
In the meantime I had my first day back at work yesterday, which was such fun that I spent last night and this morning applying for two jobs: assistant librarian at the Kennel Club (possibly readvertised from last September), and an acquisitions librarian at the Tate, whose article I refuse to drop, even if called to interview. As if catching up with the news clippings from the Northwick Park drug trial weren't enough of a downer, the High Heid Yin has decided to quibble with the Dumpling's proposed new timetable on the grounds of uneven staffing across the borough, and wishes to defer any changes until the completion of a staffing review. Which will probably have to wait on the council getting its act together about the new First Contact recruitment, which won't even start until May - which doesn't sound unreasonable, except I've been unhappy and asking for a change to my hours since December. There's still a slim hope, as the Dumpling spotted they had miscalculated some of the hours. Being upset, I spread it around a little by regretting not taking the job in February, announcing that the next CILIP Gazette was out on Friday, becoming tearful, and allowing them to think that my blood test yesterday to check my iron levels and cholesterol was to do with fatigue. Hopefully they'll also realize that the staffing will be a lot more uneven if they're one person down during a staffing freeze, than if they're a little low one day a fortnight. But I can't cope with the timetable as it is; psychologically more than physically, I need two consecutive days away from work more than once a fortnight.
Today I met up with parrot_knight to visit the Royal Academy for the Three Emperors exhibition. It was predictably fantastic, but (inevitably, given that it closes in ten days) too crowded for true enjoyment. By the ninth gallery neither of us was taking much in. The highlights were some fine wood carving and silk; Giovanni Castiglione S.J.'s paintings of horses, which showed an understanding of horse psychology; two cats on a scroll painting the subject of which escapes me; and the series of Ten Fine Dogs by Ignaz Sichelbarth, which I would commend to the attention of bunn, as they were all sighthounds.
The rest of the afternoon was spent cruising that small stretch of Tottenham Court Road between Habitat and Carpenter's Cargo Home Shop in search of a joint wedding present for foradan and Meglorien. I'd hoped to get something from Heals (whose founder Sir Ambrose Heal had a Harrow connection which presently escapes me), but in the end we picked something from Habitat.
malaheed and I have been watching rather more telly than usual. We've bought the DVD box set of American Gothic, which both of us had been wanting to see more of since Channel 4 did its usual trick of ensuring that no-one knew when to tune in from one week to the next. Impressions so far: Gary Cole deliciously creepy and evil; nicely ambiguous treatment of supernatural powers; consistently stunning performances from Lucas Black as Caleb Temple; but a bit heavy on the moody ghost scenes and light on plot so far. Hopefully the plot will thicken right before the inevitable axe at the end of season 1.
We've also been catching the repeats of Life on Mars on BBC4. I had missed this first time round and was initially a bit dubious after being so disappointed with Doctor Who, Rome, Casanova and everything but Gillian Anderson's luminous performance in Bleak House, so it was a treat to see that good television is still coming out of the BBC. John Simms consistently impresses as the lead character Sam Tyler (and yes, fellow 'Scapers, the name causes double takes!), a police inspector who is run over by a car and suddenly finds himself in 1973. Apart from the excellence of the soundtrack and the period detail, the show has a light touch in comparing and contrasting then and now and also in retaining ambiguity about whether it's all really in Tyler's head; but above all, it's got heart, somehow; it isn't cynical. It's probably next on the DVD purchase list.