Noi has popped up to Melaka to pick up two of our nieces for whom we'll be finding ways of entertaining here in this Far Place for a few days before taking them back up, with yet another niece, to the Malaysian capital for further entertainment in the run-up to Christmas. In the meantime I manfully have spent the day cleaning all the books in the Hall, and managing to read one, the last of the Berlie Doherty books I got hold of years ago and never got a chance to read. Not impressed, I'm afraid - it all seemed more than a bit contrived to me (a follow-up to How Green You Are, featuring the same 'gang'. I think the publishers were pushing a limited talent a bit too hard.)
Also walked to Holland Village in a bid to lose a few pounds and acquire the latest New York Review of Books. My policy of only buying a new one when I've finished whichever one I'm reading is working rather well. Glanced at an article on the artist/illustrator Norman Rockwell whilst quaffing the cup that cheers (and not eating the usual accompanying bagel) to discover that a guy I've always assumed was the archetypal American mom and apple pie sort of chap was really more than a little screwed up. Particularly happy about this as I've always liked his stuff and now have an excuse for my bad taste.
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