Next

Well, it didn't take too long to finish "Wolves", and it was a good read with some decent twists in the plot and false clues woven through. The end leaves you thinking for some time, not quite certain what he has just told you.

Next on the reading list is "The Broker," by John Grisham. This is a book I've picked up several times and put down again. I haven't read Grisham since Hollywood spoiled his novels last time, but I'm looking forward to starting this one. I have hardly put the TV on in these last few weeks which can only be a good thing.

Informal Dinner Party

Instead of having a big Christmas dinner like most people yesterday, I went to my parents. My mum had done a big pan of stew and dumplings for us and some family friends, and had bought a delicious lemon chiffon gateau for dessert. We played the Yes No game, drank plenty of wine and coffee, played Guess the Definition from the dictionary, and finished the night with the memory game, "I packed my bags."

The words that I can recall were; zymolysis, exigent, dogey, vade mecum, flatus, limelight and pierglass.

The memory game went as follows:

I packed my bags for London, and in them I put …

Joan
1. A fishing rod
8. A grandfather clock
15. A bouquet of flowers
22. A pint of Guinness
29. A rucksack
35. A holiday brochure for the Caribbean
-

John W
2. The Complete Works of Shakespeare
9. Two spare batteries for my electric toothbrush
16. An oil painting of my great-grandmother
23. A CD player
30. A wheelie bin
-
-

George
3. A packed lunch
10. A diary
17. A partridge in a pear tree
24. A camera
31. A lb of Pick and Mix
36. A book to read
-

Olive
4. Some shoes
11. Some tights
18. A blouse
25. An apple
-
-
-

Val
5. Some thermals
12. A bottle of wine
19. A hot water bottle
26. A packet of Butterkist popcorn
32. A bottle of whiskey
37. A nail file
-

John H
6. A plumb line
13. A bucket
20. A candle
27. A dinky toy car
33. A trowel
38. A cup of coffee
40. A clock

Russ
7. A compass
14. 12’ of 3” x 2”
21. A lamb pasanda curry with pilau rice
28. A ticket for the London Underground
34. A chemical toilet
39. A laptop computer
41. A tin of magnolia matt emulsion
(STOP)

Happy Holidays (Work is Over)

Yesterday, I met up with some of my work mates at the White Bull in Chorley for a few schnifters to celebrate having four whole days off after a hectic trading period, exacerbated by our new license for 24-hour alcohol sales. Not surprisingly, my pool playing ability was inversely proportional to the volume of alcohol consumed. However, my friends were the ones to twice knock a pint from a table, despite having significantly greater capacity for drink than I. I am generally grateful to leave in the evening without having embarrassed myself.

I have put an offer on a house and was accepted so could have a project property very soon. This particular house is a mid-terrace in need of complete renovation. My parents are joining me in this venture for our mutual benefit.

I have just read James Patterson's "London Bridges," in which the villain had the upper hand right up until the very end. The plot was essentially a continual chase after a crook who left no trace behind.

Now, I have started Martin Cruz Smith's "Wolves Eat Dogs." The blurb desribes the story as atmospheric, which the opening chapters have shown it to be, at a cost of a moderately slow start.

The film of "Gorky Park" by the same author was on Channel 5 last night, but I only caught the last half hour.

Spiral

I have just finished reading Koji Suzuki's novel "Spiral" which was an unusual sci-horror/suspense. I'm not sure if he was behind "The Grudge" or not. It raised interesting ideas but didn't develop them as much as I would have liked, and leaned on supernatural forces to develop the plot for the horror. Personally, I would have preferred it without that.

I'm supposed to be asleep for work tonight but there's still enough time if I log off now.

Passing By

Walk down the avenue of my soul
Lined by the towers of potential achievements
Uncertainty and disillusion are my goals
Not halted by the mirror of self-deceiving

Saturday Night

Well, we had a minor tour of the local town pubs on Saturday. In this instance, "we" refers to a group of colleagues from work. The evening was enjoyable, all in all, but these places have the music way up and it's difficult to chat.

I was drinking Sambuca with lemonade, which I acquired the taste for in Corfu back in April, though they use Ouzo there, then switched to lager later. I didn't pay much attention to the brand with which I was being served, but most likely it was Fosters Extra Cold. I prefer IPAs or wine to lager, but that was the crowd I was with.

We caught the tail end of an act's set. They played "Enter Sandman" which is one of my favourite metal songs, and "Sanctuary" which is also excellent.

Recently...

Finally, the legal portion of my divorce is complete. Now, I just need the financial part to catch up so I can move into my own space.

Currently, I am reading Michael Connelly's, "The Black Echo." It's a reasonable piece of writing, though not outstanding. It looks like it will be noir fiction, but it's not actually too intense. Worth a go through.

Within Temptation

I first heard WT in about 1997 after a friend loaned me their EP, "The Dance."
After that, it took me a while to track down the album, "Enter," but I found a Japanese version on Amazon. They went quiet for a few years (at least over here) but recently singles, albums and tour DVDs have been released. They are distributed by Gun/Roadrunner so with a bit of luck they will have greater presence here.

Nights

Light left its winter mark
Dark when I get up
Dark when I get home
Dozen deliveries dumped in store
For eager Christmas shoppers
Not so much tat this year
People are wiser, their
gullibility used up
by warmonger leaders

New York Trilogy

Canvas souls stretched
over secret pasts.
Watcher becomes the watched;
faded, disillusioned,
outcast.

Words thread their warp -
the tales contrive.
Plotlines emerge, unveil
his world, disconnected,
unkind.

Aquarium

Fantail dives and darts in his bowl
As, carefully, the flora and ornaments are removed
Filter changed, airstone cleaned and algae scraped
Water changed and all replaced,
and after the cloudiness has gone,
he dips and swoops,
waiting for the face in his window
and the Feeding Hand

A Day Like Today

Outside, snow falls, melting before it lands. In the background, the Cure play moody melancholic melodies.

Interminable inaction suspends me like a modern-day Hamlet; tragic and silent. To avoid the flames of despair, my world falls; tattered, rag like.

Hope better plans come to fruition.

The snow falls, the music plays, and I wait.

I wait for the words to come, that I may leave this forsaken place.

The snow melts.