I'm home, back at work, and feeling bouncy. Dad and I watched The Hobbit twice on DVD: he loves it (and observed accurately enough that the Great Goblin bears an uncanny resembance to
Hogarth's portrait of Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat: a picture which exudes sheer evil in a way that few portraits I know do).* And I'm writing
fanfic again, because - well, writers who serve up a decent bit of h/c and then kill off the character are just plain mean... It's torture to keep 'em alive just for a little bit. And frankly, I wouldn't apologise to that bloody Hobbit.
I got a brooch that looks like a Dwarven battle-axe in a vintage shop in Hull.
As to the Wicked Witch Being Dead... I've also been humming Ça Ira and am hoping for a Les Mis moment on Wednesday... Sorry Ma didn't quite manage to outlive the evil cow.
I have suggested elsewhere that the world is indeed gone to pigs and whistles (surely both silver!) if being "controversial and divisive" means a long-dead king doesn't get a proper funeral with military honours, while it doesn't stop someone whose trail of destruction on this country's social fabric, with which we still live, whose negative impact on my own and many other lives is ongoing, being all but canonised.
Thatcher should be interred in a former royal burial site: i.e. the social services car park in Leicester, unmarked, and Dickon should get military honours.
*He also features as the villain in Neil Munro's brilliant The New Road.