Monthly Archives: November 2012

Abby’s wardrobe

Visit Abby’s wardrobe with Pauley Perrette and Kevin Frazier, here.

I have watched wardrobe-y film clips before, but this one feels more personal and is more fun.

Abby's wardrobe

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Thanks

Abby at Thanksgiving

Just a little disappointed we never got to see the oven. Not sure I believe Gibbs really did host Thanksgiving. Nice thought, though.

Flashback next week?

NCIS: Los Angeles – Season 4 so far

So, what do we think of the new season of NCIS: Los Angeles? The fact that I haven’t blogged about it yet could be an indication. That’s two months with little inclination to say, well, anything.

In fact, watching the second half of the double episode – which strangely was split over a the gap week of the US election – I had some difficulty remembering what the first half had been about. I recalled it as soon as we had the ‘previously on…’ bit, but in the two weeks I’d not given it enough thought to help me remember.

Deeks

I enjoy watching it still. I look forward to a new week with both the shows. But something has been lost. Wondered if the timing over the election week was done in case viewers forgot about them, and only a double episode would guarantee our return?

Didn’t feel comfortable with the way Sam’s life developed last week. It can only lead to grief, or maybe incredulity. And what kind of end was that? It didn’t say it would be continued, so I’m guessing it really was an end.

Nell and Eric need to stop the flirting. On or off; either is fine. The middle ground isn’t. Granger is growing on me. Time to stop hating the man, perhaps?

Callen, Sam and Hetty

(Photo © CBS)

Forbrydelsen III

For helvede, that was no shipmate. Ship’s mate, unless he was the first mate, which he could have been on the grounds of being the only one. But that might make him mate only. It’s just a space and an apostrophe, but we need to raise the poor man from shipmate status.

Sorry for being picky, but it grated.

The country has been on tenterhooks for The Killing, the final outing for Sarah Lund. The Guardian gave lessons in Danish. Sort of. Facebook friends foamed at the mouth. Daughter fumed more than foamed, because BBC4 fell short of her northern outpost, and there will have to be complaints.

The long wait was just about worth it. Nice to settle in to a surly and confused detective again, and because Sarah has a tendency to lose her partners, there is a certain freshness in having a new one each season. Two new men, actually. The younger one, Asbjørn, looked a lot like poor Meyer, I thought. Borch, on the other hand, seems quite bossy.

Forbrydelsen III

We got so much politics that every once in a while I thought I was watching Borgen, while having trouble deciding which party is which. If I was Prime Minister, which I’m not, I’d be more wary of her in the Centre party.*

Everyone ought to have a bike parked in their posh hallways. And you would have thought they thought they were in Switzerland, displaying such expectations of trains and buses running on time.

And Sarah’s mother… She’s so very Danish.

Here’s to next week! (Please let it be a shorter week, this time.)

*My money is on the chap on the far right of the photo. Far too many fingers in too many pies.

Happy Birthdays!

McGee, Ziva and Palmer

Agents David and McGee and (I suppose he must be a) Dr Palmer have another set of birthdays. Even fictional people celebrate birthdays. Except not necessarily at the same time as their actors.

Ziva, Palmer and McGee

So a shared Happy Birthday to Cote de Pablo (today) and Brian Dietzen (Wednesday) and Sean Murray (Thursday), 33 and 35 and 35 years old! I suppose for them it might be like twins (triplets, even), that because they have their birthdays around the same time, they each get less attention. On the other hand, they are almost old enough to be glad of that.

NCIS

Yeah, they look happy enough. Save some cake for me.

(Photos © CBS)

Skyfall

We can’t all make it to see the new James Bond on the first night. But we could do without the spoilers friends provided from the word go. When people on facebook talk about something that was on television just now, but which I couldn’t watch, I tend to read cautiously, in case they give things away. But they are usually good.

So what went wrong with Skyfall? I saw it two weeks late, knowing the two main bits of news already. It didn’t ruin the film, but why can’t people shut up and use some discretion?

The other surprising element this time round was the universal approval of Skyfall. Didn’t hear anyone saying it was a bit rubbish. Or I didn’t until I read Adrian McKinty’s blog post after I’d seen the film. He thought it was boring, and whereas I don’t totally agree with him, I had allowed the thought that they could easily have made it 20 minutes shorter, to cross my mind. Sitting for nearly two and a half hours is a pain.

But, let’s not be too grumpy. It was entertaining. I don’t particularly like Daniel Craig (I’m more of a Brosnan lady), and I didn’t care for the woman who … but who am I to decide these things?

Skyfall

Bérénice Marlohe did well, which surprised me as I don’t always go for the beautiful Bond girls they come up with.

I love our national treasure, or Judi Dench as I believe she’s called. She was good in this one. She’s always good, but it felt like she might have been better still this time. And I knew that she … You know.

Skyfall

Ralph Fiennes was another one who would have come across differently if I hadn’t already been aware of some aspects of his character. Nice man. Not so Ola Rapace, who annoys me. (Is this turning into a list of Witch Hates?) I kept looking at him, feeling he looked familiar, and annoying. Couldn’t place him at first, but saw enough to remind me I don’t like him.

Q was fine. (See, I don’t hate everyone.)

Skyfall

On the other hand, there is Javier Bardem, who is no favourite of mine. Although he is preferable as a baddie than as the love interest. Horrible though it was, I could see the funny side when the tube train … No, no, mustn’t say anything.

Apparently Scotland doesn’t look like it did in Skyfall, according to my Resident IT Consultant, who knows about Scotland. I thought it was nicely bleak, in a satisfying sort of way.

Some good humorous dialogue, and obviously all the action you take for granted these days. Not bad. Not marvellous, since I have no wish to immediately see it again, or anything, but I didn’t suffer. Apart from the vertigo inducing scenes, which made me feel sick.

Nice to see the cinema full, for once. I mean, I prefer it to be half empty for my comfort, but it’s good to know the cinema can fill up when it wants to. Although it was  a Wednesday.

The genius tea blend

I admit it. I’m very hard to please when it comes to tea. (Other things too, but that’s beside the point.)

I would love for the family to make tea (the drink) for me. But what if it is too strong, too weak, wrong flavour, too cold or too milky? It doesn’t help that I used to drink very weak and milky tea in the olden days. Witches are allowed to change at any time.

So I generally slave over the hot kettle myself, warming pots and measuring (the right kind of) tea and timing it. Occasionally I give in, and decide that the convenience of remaining sitting down or lying in bed and getting someone else’s tea is a good trade-off. Even if they forget the teacosy.

(I know. I sound like a right cow.)

Under the apple tree

Then one day this summer Daughter said she’d make the tea for me and our visitors, and I accepted her offer. We sat down – under the apple tree, in case it rained – and she brought the tea tray out. The tea tasted fantastic!

I was so surprised that I had to ask what she’d done. It was neither builder’s teabags, nor any of my leaf tea blends. Turns out Daughter had thrown in both builder’s teabags and one vanilla teabag.

This has since become my reliable teabag tea, which even the Resident IT Consultant can make and get right. I make it myself when I can’t be bothered fiddling with leaf tea and filters and stuff.

To be on the safe side I filled my suitcase with vanilla teabags when returning home. On the off-chance the vanilla tea here isn’t as good.