Much as I love autumn today was one of those days that do not endear this season to me. I can put up with cold and snow etc but I loathe windy days where your hair is whipped across your eyes and you have to lean forward to walk. It has been raining quite heavily here in Colchester, all the beautiful gold and crimson leaves are being blown off the trees and are now lying in sodden heaps on the pavement, lovely to look at but treacherous to walk on. So decided that today was a good time to tuck myself up indoors and do a few domestic bits and pieces and be warm and gemutlich. This I have done and, as I have to fill in a tax return as I worked for a few months this year, spent an hour getting my figures and things together. I will be doing this on line and oh my goodness what a hassle registering I want to do this, ringing up the IR Helpline when the system kept crashing, then having to wait for my activation code blah blah blah. Soooooooooooo boring.
It is now the part of the early winter days I love. It is dark, I have pulled the curtains, the lamps are on, listening to the afternoon concert on Radio 3 and that wonderful feeling of knowing that there is nothing I have to do if I don't want to this evening. Have my supper all ready to pop into the oven, then I will watch It Takes Two and see Jimi Mistry and Flavia being interviewed by Claudia and the obligatory tears at being voted off the show, then sharpen my wits with University Challenge later (do ANY undergraduates know anything about Shakespeare and poetry I ask myself?) and then settle down at 9pm for the final episode of Spooks to which I have become addicted. I am linking you to an earlier post on this series in which I poured scorn and vitriol on its awful script etc etc and I still stand by this and the tight lipped delivery of awful lines, but of course Richard Armitage has been in this for the last few series and that is the reason for my watching. But I will own up and say I love it now. Confession is good for the soul...
An interview with PD James in my paper this morning. Wonderful woman who stands no nonsense and takes no prisoners. I have just re-read The Private Patient, a copy of which I picked up at a book sale recently (have a sneaky feeling it was probably my copy I donated last year) and, as always when reading this author, felt the usual sense of keen enjoyment which always comes over me when I read her elegant writing and clear and clean style. Not going to repeat myself so here is the link to my earlier review back in 2008.
Now in her nineties, PD James says that she has probably written her last book as they usually 'take about three years to write and I might not be here then'. I would adore her to produce just one more Dalgliesh book, from purely selfish reasons, as I cannot bear to let him go but did suspect after the ending of the Private Patient where she finally marries him off, he finds happiness and is contemplating making this his last case, that there would be no more.
Faber are reissuing her earlier books as I mentioned last week and I intend to get hold of them all as I find I read and re-read these books as often as I do DL Sayers and Ngaio Marsh.
A great lady and a great writer.