Fun packed weekend

All in all a rather splendid weekend. His Dark Materials (Part 1) lived up to all my expectations. The story is as bewitching as on the page; the acting was flawless (although I didn't especially like the way Lord Asriel was played) and the staging - oh, the staging - was quite out of this world. It seems a shame to rabbit on about how magnificent the staging was, because it was only one part of creating a mesmerising evening - but it really was remarkable. I never realised that the Olivier had quite such extraordinary facilities, in terms of things (substantial things) rising up out of the stage, revolving, and being flown in... Worth going to see just for the mechanics.

Saturday I went Up West.  I am following my Christmas Shopping Mantra that has served me well in the past. I only shop for presents at Liberty, Selfridges and on the Internet. I ignore price labels.  This Saturday I visited Liberty and bought a number of delightful items. Next Saturday I shall venture to Selfridges.

Saturday afternoon was Tea with Suzanne and the Girls - far too many chocolate related goods were consumed, but fortunately there were mince pies and Brandy Butter to help soak up any excess sugar intake.

Today was Internet shopping. Amazon shall be sending a small lorry in this direction in the not too distant future.

Hurrah!

Something nasty under the bed

Ah. Yes. I nearly forgot.  Saturday night. Bed time. I retire to my boudoir but become aware that all is not well -call it a strange sense of foreboding, if you will.

I fetch a torch and peer under the bed.  All is explained. Squirell Nutkin - normally seen gambolling happily in the garden - has chosen to hibernate beneath my bed.  Thoughtless beast. I poke him (or possibly her) with a coathanger. Nothing. I poke again - harder - aware that squirrells sleep soundly. Again nothing - although this time I am aware of a certain lack of "give" at the business end of the coathanger.

A movement on the periphery of my vision: Flynn the cat sits, looking slightly guilty yet somehow proud at the same time. I give him a stern look and - I swear - he blushes slightly.

Yes. He has slain Squirrel Nutkin and, er, squirrelled the lifeless corpse away beneath my bed.

Makes a change from pigeons, I suppose.