I’ve either got what Bram had, or something from a coworker. Christmas shopping is finished, though I almost got into a fight at the liquor store buying something as a part of my secret santa gift exchange at work. All that I have left to do is further baking. Apparently, chocolate-dipped pretzel sticks are a hit with a teething 18-month old and his mother. The first batch I made has disappeared.
We finished up watching the Gormenghast miniseries last night. It’s based on a fantastic couple of books by Mervyn Peake (the third book, not so much), and the BBC did an admirable job translating the thick, dusty and sometimes deliberately turgid story into 4 hours on screen. Jonathan Rhys Davies is an impressive (if far too pretty-looking) Steerpike, and while Gormenghast castle is the main character in the books, something that is nearly impossible to translate on screen, whoever did the set design had a keen and innovative eye for communicating the age, immensity and decay of the castle. It appears that all of the actors in the miniseries had a blast portraying Peake’s caricature characters, who are silly gothic grotesques, one and all.
The bus routes changed over the weekend, so I have to leave the house 20 minutes earlier than usual. Hopefully my timing won’t be too far off, or else I’ll have to wait a half hour for the next bus.