Sunday so a rambly post (nothing new there I hear you cry at the back? Be quiet...)
Warning - boring paragraph about driving coming up.
Up to London last Wednesday to look after Florence. Sailed along, no probs then reach Stratford, log jam of traffic, all of us squeezing past to let through a procession of police cars, motorcycles and an ambulance. Engine off, book out and settled down. I was parked right under the Olympic Veladrome so had a good view of it but got bored with it after five minutes. No bikes. Traffic starts edging forward and off we go (had been sitting for over an hour by now) and though it was slow we were actually moving when lo and behold the gargantuan lorry in front of me came to a grinding halt, driver leaps out, puts on flashing lights and bits of smoke start appearing from under his hood. More squeezing to one side to let an AA van in - traffic ahead still moving and in order to join it I had to pull out into right hand lane - huge lorry slightly behind me on the right, moved back as much as he could, ie three feet and I looked at the gap, looked at my Nissan, said come on babe you can do it and inched my way through and made it. OK two hours down now and I can see the A12 in sight only to find when I get there that it is blocked off by a police car. No go. So now four lanes of traffic are being guided into one lane signed Hackney. Go round the roundabout as I know I can turn left and get back on the A12 further on. No go. Blocked by police cars. So then, dear readers, my journey into the unknown begins. I have no idea where I am going, know I need to throw a left at some stage but can I do it? No. Everywhere I went I was hemmed in by traffic, more road works, in fact there were road works everywhere, and I was relentlessly pushed through the E9 postal district and soon found myself in N16 - I was going north and nothing I could do about it. No point in trying to make a guess at the way to my final destination, I have very little sense of direction and at least if you stay on a main road you will hit a sign soon so you can find out where you are. So on I plodded.
To cut a very long and dreary story short I came across a sign to The City - but one thing I learned pretty quickly that morning was that because the sign is on one corner it does not mean you go down that road, oh dear me no, it is usually three more turnings up. In the end I was trolling along a packed busy street and suddenly realised I was going past the Design Centre. Geronimo was my cry, I am at the Angel if I turn left at the traffic lights I can head for Liverpool Street. So I did and made my way to Bishopsgate, down to Aldgate, along the Mile End Road and finally pulled up outside James and Helen's house. Door flew open and Helen came rushing out expecting to find a nervous wreck, but I am made of sterner stuff now and though shattered was also exhilarated that I had managed to drive through horrendously busy traffic, find my way, keep my cool and get to my destination. I was very pleased however to hear her say 'Mum, it's not fair to hand Florence straight over to you now. We're going to lunch'
And we did.
Cricket - Second Test proving just as fascinating as the first. England put on the rack by the Indian bowlers on a pitch that made the ball swing, turn and hop and if it had not been for Stuart Broad and Graham Swann, both tailenders, batting out of their skins, we would have been in deep doo-doo. India went in to bat and started building a pretty big score and matters were getting a tad hairy when suddenly in comes Stuart Broad (yes him again) and knocks off a hat trick. I quote that well known phrase 'the crowd went wild' and so did I leaping to my feet at home and screaming and also bashing my knee, very painfully, against the coffee table. The guys on Test Match Special were having a collective fit of hysteria and it was all Too Much to Bear. I LOVE CRICKET.
In between all this I am reading the books of Lee Childs which I was introduced to by my sister. I am reading them wildly out of order but that doesn't really matter as Jack Reacher does the same thing in practially every book as far as I can see (I have read five so far), ie - he strolls into town in his best Clint Eastwood style, sorts out a problem and then disappears into the sunset. On the way he has usually solved a murder, killed a few bad guys, met and bedded a lovely woman, and all without flinching. I simply love them. Written in a tight punchy style with lots of cool backchat and they are totally unputdownable. I said in a recent post that reading all of them would probably keep me busy for a month. I am now downgrading that to two weeks.
One thing I am puzzled about and hope somebody can answer my question. My first Lee Childs was listed as being No 8 in the series and yet it has a character in it who, when I read No1, turns up as a dead body. Que?
I gather that there are millions of Jack Reacher addicts around the world and though I have only just come to the party I am rather falling in love with him too. He is 6' 5", with a 50" chest and weighing in at around 220-250 lbs. He has blonde hair and icy blue eyes (this description from official website)
So I can understand the reaction to the casting of Jack in a purported movie soon to be in production.
Who have they picked?
Tom Cruise that's who.
Don't think I need to make any further comment................