(no subject)
Dec. 23rd, 2003 01:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liadnan... and we're done.
I had to go in on Monday to give my considered opinion on a short point that absolutely *had* to be answered now. My arse. Still, it didn't take too long in the end.
Saturday's carol service was entirely as it should be: perfect, timeless, the same as every year, and I'm firmly in the Christmas mood now. Incidentally, I'm not always a great fan of John Taverner, but his setting of the Orthodox Christmas Proclamation is one of my favourite pieces of religious seasonal music, particularly when sung in a full, silent, dark Cathedral.
Even the thought of hordes of small children waiting for me in deepest darkest Hampshire, or the forthcoming experience of Waterloo and SouthWest Trains can't dampen my mood for long. They'd just better have the Proper Fire lit already when I arrive.
Before that, though, I have a pressing engagement to meet: RotK this evening. No, it won't be the books. Films aren't. It's why we call them "films" rather than "books". And books are, and always will be, my first love. But I genuinely believe Jackson has done as good a job as is possible, and I've been looking forward to the films every year. Which is more than I can say for Daniel Radcliffe and his merry men.
I'm unlikely to have access to the internet until after New Year, except for my recent, and somewhat expensive, discovery that checking my main email inbox on my mobile phone (both are from orange) does actually work. Writing email, though, is a bugger. The only exception will be if we go over to sister2's house for lunch some day, as doubtless we will, and I'm sad enough to lug my laptop with me and steal her phone line. My parents, you see, enjoy annoying BT by keeping an old fashioned phone, hardwired into the wall.
So, Happy Christmas to those of you who think of it as Christmas, Happy Holidays to those who don't, Happy New Year to the lot of youse, and don't drink more than I would.
I had to go in on Monday to give my considered opinion on a short point that absolutely *had* to be answered now. My arse. Still, it didn't take too long in the end.
Saturday's carol service was entirely as it should be: perfect, timeless, the same as every year, and I'm firmly in the Christmas mood now. Incidentally, I'm not always a great fan of John Taverner, but his setting of the Orthodox Christmas Proclamation is one of my favourite pieces of religious seasonal music, particularly when sung in a full, silent, dark Cathedral.
Even the thought of hordes of small children waiting for me in deepest darkest Hampshire, or the forthcoming experience of Waterloo and SouthWest Trains can't dampen my mood for long. They'd just better have the Proper Fire lit already when I arrive.
Before that, though, I have a pressing engagement to meet: RotK this evening. No, it won't be the books. Films aren't. It's why we call them "films" rather than "books". And books are, and always will be, my first love. But I genuinely believe Jackson has done as good a job as is possible, and I've been looking forward to the films every year. Which is more than I can say for Daniel Radcliffe and his merry men.
I'm unlikely to have access to the internet until after New Year, except for my recent, and somewhat expensive, discovery that checking my main email inbox on my mobile phone (both are from orange) does actually work. Writing email, though, is a bugger. The only exception will be if we go over to sister2's house for lunch some day, as doubtless we will, and I'm sad enough to lug my laptop with me and steal her phone line. My parents, you see, enjoy annoying BT by keeping an old fashioned phone, hardwired into the wall.
So, Happy Christmas to those of you who think of it as Christmas, Happy Holidays to those who don't, Happy New Year to the lot of youse, and don't drink more than I would.
