I hear the drizzle of the rain Like a memory it falls Soft and warm continuing Tapping on my roof and walls.

Well spent evening:

After spending my afternoon cooking beef stir fry and singing and dancing Ringarosies and the Dingle Dangle Scarecrow I decided to spend a luxurious evening in with:

Cat

Two small squares of dark (cooking) chocolate

One mug of vanilla tea

One laptop (which I can't take a picture of because I'm using the webcam... which can't take pictures of itself)

 

My knitting

The Blind Banker because I've realised that I can plug my USB into the television and watch Sherlock that way. Doing a mini marathon before A Scandal in Belgravia! (Tomorrow: The Great Game!)

Basil the Great Mouse Detective because I apparently have a masochistic streak. Looked up from blogging just now in time for this moment:

The voice acting and character design in this are somewhat spectacular, particularly the hero and villain. Though I'm sure the images from this terrifying film will haunt me for weeks. Oh, and the DVD menu is horrible.

 All I need now is my dressing gown...

Floating on a sunset cloud... of pain.

Ah, the reason for my panic attack of yesterday has become more plain to me... unexpected pre-lady-time! Whilst researching this post (because, of course, all my blogs are meticulously pre-researched) I found some interesting euphemisims for 'that special time of the month' but none I'd feel comfortable adopting, even for a one-off blog post, so I decided to invent my own. From now on I shall refer to 'floating on a sunset cloud', which hopefully is icky and unsettling enough for everybody - though not quite as pretty and delicate as 'the tears of my disappointed uterus', which is an honest-to-goodness thing someone said somewhere. Don't worry, I'm not about to spend a great deal of time discussing MENSTRUATION because it is, in fact, quite gross. In case you didn't know.

Instead I'll tell you that in an attempt to ignore the pain that nurofen is doing a lousy job at defeating, I'm listening to Peter Gabriel and music from The Rescuers.

I shall also here express my simultaneous emotions of befuddlement that people in general do not find the face of Benedict Cumberbatch completely gorgeous and marvelloustastic

and intense frustration that stupid Channel 9 will not hurry up and give us Australians a damn release date for Sherlock  season 2!

Oh.
No.

Just looked it up... and they have. It's next Wednesday evening. My brother's birthday. I AM SO ANNOYED RIGHT NOW. And the episode has a dominatrix and nudity and stuff in it, so watching it with my family is not going to be an option.




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Deep breaths. There is such a thing as catch up TV. At least there had better be. Though the fact that I will probably have to resort to such a thing is annoying beyond all belief, particularly seeing as the one reason (besides the law) that I didn't just download it off the internet back in January (which was pretty tempting, let me tell you), is because I didn't want to use up downloads on something that I would be able to watch on television legally anyway. AUGH.

I shall hereby assauge my feelings with some more Cumberbatchery thus:

 

Oh, It's Christmas!

Hello, my readers.

THERE'S A TRAILER OUT FOR THE HOBBIT! THERE ARE INTRIGUING GIF SETS AND SPOILERS FOR SHERLOCK SEASON 2 FLOATING ABOUT ON THE INTERNET! AND THE DOCTOR WHO CHRISTMAS SPECIAL IS SHOWING ON MONDAY!

*Somehow manages to stop hyperventilating*

Sorry for this pathetic excuse for a blog post. I've done some (novel) writing today. This doth please me. And going through Anna Karenina with my handy highlighter is ridiculously enjoyable. I fear that this highlighting business may become a habit and I shall destroy all my pretty books with literary vandalism. But anyway...

THE HOBBIT AND SHERLOCK!!! WEROIJSKLDFGNDSFJSDWARUILDSGKJHIOUDESFRKLSLDSFJLDSKFJKSDGHKJSGHDLS

 

(Must keep in mind that we won't be seeing Sherlock until February in Australia. And The first Hobbit movie doesn't come out until next December. Sigh.)

A Study in Time (Sherlock/Doctor Who)

The Clothes Make The Man... More Handsomer...

I haven't done a really self indulgent, inexcusably gratituous post in a while, so...

Skinny boys in suits!

No excuses. I have fun being this lame.

Perhaps it would be a little less lame if I wrote something interesting underneath each picture, but... what? What can I say? It's Andrew Garfield in a suit!

Additional points for nice hair.


Why is it so difficult to find a decent picture of Michael Crawford as a young man, be-suited or otherwise? And yes, I know: Michael Crawford.

Yes, Dick Van Dyke too.


Bonus round: longcoats!
X-)

I'm In Shock, Look, I've Got A Blanket

I should be reading Père Goriot/doing an assignment right now, but procrastination has once again talked me into internetting my valuable time away.
Just watched/fell in love with the first episode of the recent BBC miniseries Sherlock. I thought I was going to hate it - but I enjoyed the heck out of myself. Now that I've written this down the other two episodes of it will probably be rubbish. Oh well. At least the first one was filled with exciting faithfulness to the original plot & characterisation, plus being gripping, brilliant and led by an actor whose voice I would eat on toast if I could. (Within the first five minutes I found myself wishing I there were some kind of excuse to listen to his voice all day long. I since discovered he does audio books. I want!)
I adore Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories, as my battered and much abused Penguin Complete edition can attest. And yes, I do love Holmes and his stories more than I love Agatha Christie's Poirot and Marple, in case you're wondering. (Which you weren't. Nobody ever does, I find.) The 2009 movie massively disappointed me, by its irritating way of playing loose and easy with characterisation and plot. Let me say this once: it requires a great deal of skill and creativity to make an adaptation of a classic and make a good one. I keep seeing and hearing reference made to Bridget Jones's Diary as a modern-day adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. No, it isn't. I have read the book and seen the film, and though both are reasonably entertaining (nothing to write home about, I must add) I cannot qualify Helen Fielding's story as an adaptation. She might have made use of archetypes Jane Austen's book portrayed, but she did not do a modern adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. Bollywood did one, albeit a sillified tongue in cheek one, but it was an adaptation. And an amusing one.
But enough rant. No more rant.



Sherlock is awesome.

Adorable mini icons stolen from http://www.redscharlach.co.uk/