According to my diary, we haven't done anything this week. That's unfortunate. Not that we haven't done anything, but that my diary is misleading...we've done plenty.
What I can remember is that last night we went to see The Book Thief...another good little film (whatever the reviews might say) that we enjoyed, even though there were some terrible clunkers in it...evidently it was the Americans who occupied Germany at the end of WW2, and when one boy dies, he throws his head back in the finest amateur tradition. Apart from that...not bad at all.
Wednesday, The Cat's Mother braved the floods and headed down to Exeter for the day...a dress for a friends wedding was purchased, and she returned home safely. The Cat is buckling down to hard work I'm told. Surely there's some wool pulling over eyes? Does any student work hard?
I had to arrange for The Boy's guitar to be taken to him by someone who was heading out to Kitzbuhel. Have a had a word of thanks. Fat chance.
Ah yes, and this year we're getting a new kitchen...and a whole new room to put it in....I feel the stress already.
I've become an artist. Well not really. I've taken the work of two artists and combined them. One is delighted, the other is OK with it. Last year I get a small sculpture by a street artist called Issac Cordal. It was a little man with briefcase looking wistfully at a landscape painting...the idea of the piece was the concept of loss. We decided to replace the picture with the painting we had commissioned from Jon Everitt. Anyway, it looks fabulous to us...and works alongside Jon's other pieces