Dry eyed
An excellent morning's work, with a clear head and song on my lips. Went out for a constitutional in the afternoon, walking around town. It was pretty cold, especially down by the sea but nevertheless bracing. Walked through the tiny Dolphin Square in the Lanes where the much missed Rounder Records used to be. Melancholy sight with Rounder Records and three other shops gone. As I took a few snaps a man from a jewellers peered out of his shop window balefully at me.
A 'fasting' i.e. reduced calorie day, but again not much of a hardship: small porridge for breakfast, banana on Ryvita and a cup of miso soup for lunch, and a bit of cold chicken, veggies and a wee bit of rice for supper, in total around 600 calories. The knowledge that you can eat normally the next day makes this bearable.
Off tonight to see the film version of Les Misérables which was a good deal less dire than expected. I am no lover of musicals, but hearing good reviews and Lorraine mad for it after hearing Betty had loved it, combined to persuade me, I am pleased they did. The bones of the Victor Hugo plot were still there (the novel completed in Guernsey of course) and the performances were uniformly excellent.
Quite a lot of sniffing and gulping in the Duke of York audience as the plot unfurled, and not just from Lorraine. Most people on the screen were crying too, and when they weren't crying the frame was full of rain, for apparently in the first half of the 19th century it rained continually in France. Remaining dry eyed made me feel as if I had a heart of stone.
Below a bill in empty shop, once the home of Rounder Records; people doing strange things by the sea.
A 'fasting' i.e. reduced calorie day, but again not much of a hardship: small porridge for breakfast, banana on Ryvita and a cup of miso soup for lunch, and a bit of cold chicken, veggies and a wee bit of rice for supper, in total around 600 calories. The knowledge that you can eat normally the next day makes this bearable.
Off tonight to see the film version of Les Misérables which was a good deal less dire than expected. I am no lover of musicals, but hearing good reviews and Lorraine mad for it after hearing Betty had loved it, combined to persuade me, I am pleased they did. The bones of the Victor Hugo plot were still there (the novel completed in Guernsey of course) and the performances were uniformly excellent.
Quite a lot of sniffing and gulping in the Duke of York audience as the plot unfurled, and not just from Lorraine. Most people on the screen were crying too, and when they weren't crying the frame was full of rain, for apparently in the first half of the 19th century it rained continually in France. Remaining dry eyed made me feel as if I had a heart of stone.
Below a bill in empty shop, once the home of Rounder Records; people doing strange things by the sea.
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