I have a cold. Which is bad, because in addition to feeling like I have a dead mouse stuffed down my throat and a live caterpillar up each nostril, I have a carols night to sing at on Sunday. Bother, bother, bother, as Pooh bear would say. Wretched throat infection. I can still taste the zinc, echinacea and garlic pills, though - horridly enough; even though lots of nicer tasting things are only a faint memory of my ailing taste buds. But enough moaning.
Let's have some nice things instead for a bit.
Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day

is one of the prettiest movies I've ever ever seen. The sheer prettiness of it could reconcile me to a bad script, perhaps, or bad plotting, or even a little boredom, but it suffered the detraction of none of the above. It was like, say, Marie Antionette, except that it was entertaining.
This:
Except that 'nice' isn't the word. Spectacular, incredible, amazing beyond belief... perhaps those words fit it better?
When you find the perfect Christmas present for someone
A new (for me, obviously, the books have been around since decades before I was born) Wodehouse series to go nuts over:

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