With the flimsy protection of a sheet of glass the early afternoon sun is streaming warmly into the room. The dappled sunlight is just on the point of making the surface of the pool sparkle and the wisps of cloud merely emphasise the blue infinity of the sky.
At times like this it is not impossible to believe that summer will exist. This simple leap of faith has been difficult to make during the vindictive weather that we have had recently. Three days of rain is little short of a national disaster in these parts and temperatures dropping down to single figures reduce grown men to tears.
Spanish television usually laughs as the LEGAL restrictions on advertising on television. To my knowledge there is a maximum limit of twelve minutes advertising time for each hour, but on some channels this is laughable. The government makes noises about coming into line with the LEGAL requirement and then quietly seems to do nothing about it. Now, one Catalan channel has voluntarily decided to do something about it.
The result of this was that we were able to watch ‘Casino Royale’ on TV last night without feeling that we had sat through an artistic even with the length of the entire Ring Cycle. During one commercial break (with the emphasis on commercial) I showered, got changed and made dinner with there still being enough time to have a leisurely glass of wine before the break (or ‘break’) was over!
On this channel there was at least the opportunity to enjoy the film with the breaks being of a duration which did not encourage you to lose track of what was happening in the programme you were supposed to be watching.
For what is supposed to be mindless entertainment with chases and gratuitous violence thrown in, ‘Casino Royale’ is an up-market piece of work. I think that it is too long and it’s a tad self-congratulatory in its complacent use of existing knowledge: when Bond is asked whether he wants his Martini shaken or stirred he replies something to the effect that it makes no difference! How times change!
I think that ‘Casino Royale’ is an elegant film with dark overtones which fill in the back story and gave a sardonic view of the development of James Bond.
Out to lunch in a restaurant in Gavá, La Finca, which is a little off the beaten track and has a decorative style in the main dining room which can only be described as Bad Taste Catholic Grunge. Plaster saints vied with pictures of old Gavá with a few concessions to design which were frankly poorly chosen. The food however was excellent with the signal exception of the sweet which was a dry sacher dessert inadequately defrosted. I should always listen to my own advice and stick with the coffee as a sufficient termination to a meal!
Toni and I had one of our occasional arguments about the definition of ‘fussy eater’ which, as usual, ended with recriminations, misunderstandings and our usual dash of acrimony! Luckily it didn’t take away the taste of the food!
I am almost in the mood to tackle unpacking some of the books which litter up the third floor – though there isn’t actually anywhere to put them: all shelf space is accounted for.
Breaking News! The Scumbags who live next door for some months of the year have reappeared and parked their cars across our drive. To our total horror it looks as though they are moving things into their house preparatory to their actually taking up residence there. They have, over the last summer, acquired the official designation of ‘Bane’ as their behaviour is consistently appalling.
Our one hope is that their ‘popular’ daughter is now2 too old to contemplate spending the summer with her parents (with whom she had explosive and vitriolic rows last summer) and therefore will not attract the pimply, salivating adolescents who pant around (and lots more prepositions) her, creating unacceptable levels of sound during anti-social hours of the night.
With any luck they are merely here because someone pushed the gates open and, though we have closed them each time we see them gaping, perhaps someone has informed them that their house is open to intrusion and they have merely come to check and then (most importantly) go!
The afternoon advances and no books have been unpacked; no arranging of shelves; no selection of important tomes to be displayed prominently and dispensable tomes to be . . . No, it’s no good, I can’t even bring myself to write about what might be done to those books which I haven’t even glanced at for a couple of years. You never know when they might become essential. Nothing can be dispensed with. Nothing.
So I will now try and get the eight gallons into the small wine glass which is the only image that fits my trying to get my books into some sort of display for the house.
No harm in trying.
At times like this it is not impossible to believe that summer will exist. This simple leap of faith has been difficult to make during the vindictive weather that we have had recently. Three days of rain is little short of a national disaster in these parts and temperatures dropping down to single figures reduce grown men to tears.
Spanish television usually laughs as the LEGAL restrictions on advertising on television. To my knowledge there is a maximum limit of twelve minutes advertising time for each hour, but on some channels this is laughable. The government makes noises about coming into line with the LEGAL requirement and then quietly seems to do nothing about it. Now, one Catalan channel has voluntarily decided to do something about it.
The result of this was that we were able to watch ‘Casino Royale’ on TV last night without feeling that we had sat through an artistic even with the length of the entire Ring Cycle. During one commercial break (with the emphasis on commercial) I showered, got changed and made dinner with there still being enough time to have a leisurely glass of wine before the break (or ‘break’) was over!
On this channel there was at least the opportunity to enjoy the film with the breaks being of a duration which did not encourage you to lose track of what was happening in the programme you were supposed to be watching.
For what is supposed to be mindless entertainment with chases and gratuitous violence thrown in, ‘Casino Royale’ is an up-market piece of work. I think that it is too long and it’s a tad self-congratulatory in its complacent use of existing knowledge: when Bond is asked whether he wants his Martini shaken or stirred he replies something to the effect that it makes no difference! How times change!
I think that ‘Casino Royale’ is an elegant film with dark overtones which fill in the back story and gave a sardonic view of the development of James Bond.
Out to lunch in a restaurant in Gavá, La Finca, which is a little off the beaten track and has a decorative style in the main dining room which can only be described as Bad Taste Catholic Grunge. Plaster saints vied with pictures of old Gavá with a few concessions to design which were frankly poorly chosen. The food however was excellent with the signal exception of the sweet which was a dry sacher dessert inadequately defrosted. I should always listen to my own advice and stick with the coffee as a sufficient termination to a meal!
Toni and I had one of our occasional arguments about the definition of ‘fussy eater’ which, as usual, ended with recriminations, misunderstandings and our usual dash of acrimony! Luckily it didn’t take away the taste of the food!
I am almost in the mood to tackle unpacking some of the books which litter up the third floor – though there isn’t actually anywhere to put them: all shelf space is accounted for.
Breaking News! The Scumbags who live next door for some months of the year have reappeared and parked their cars across our drive. To our total horror it looks as though they are moving things into their house preparatory to their actually taking up residence there. They have, over the last summer, acquired the official designation of ‘Bane’ as their behaviour is consistently appalling.
Our one hope is that their ‘popular’ daughter is now2 too old to contemplate spending the summer with her parents (with whom she had explosive and vitriolic rows last summer) and therefore will not attract the pimply, salivating adolescents who pant around (and lots more prepositions) her, creating unacceptable levels of sound during anti-social hours of the night.
With any luck they are merely here because someone pushed the gates open and, though we have closed them each time we see them gaping, perhaps someone has informed them that their house is open to intrusion and they have merely come to check and then (most importantly) go!
The afternoon advances and no books have been unpacked; no arranging of shelves; no selection of important tomes to be displayed prominently and dispensable tomes to be . . . No, it’s no good, I can’t even bring myself to write about what might be done to those books which I haven’t even glanced at for a couple of years. You never know when they might become essential. Nothing can be dispensed with. Nothing.
So I will now try and get the eight gallons into the small wine glass which is the only image that fits my trying to get my books into some sort of display for the house.
No harm in trying.
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