Did you know that to finely chop one garlic (that’s bulb of, not clove) and a kilo of plums (for chutney) takes exactly as long as it takes to watch an episode of NCIS? It does. And I was glad to have found something to ‘do’ while chopping.
Just as the day before, two kilos of plums for jam got more entertainingly done in the company of Mark Isitt on Swedish Radio, in his Sommar programme about architecture. In fairness, I had time to change the sheets on the bed too.
Catching up big time here, having watched the last Allsång from Skansen just the other day. It was unexpectedly dramatic with one singer being stretchered off, having collapsed (and not for the first time apparently).
Netflix is busy telling me to finish watching The Detectorists, which I have no intention of doing. We simply picked the first thing that turned up when experimenting to see where our streaming difficulties lie. With the Philips TV, it seems. We’ve since managed another episode of Good Omens, but I’m not holding my breath. There needs to be more tech, somewhere, and preferably not yet another new TV.
Daughter and I Barbied a week or so ago. It was her first return to the cinema, and mine too, if you don’t count the smaller one I went to last year. It was surprisingly disappointing. Not the film, but the cinema experience. We can see ourselves watching more television for a bit longer. Although, not if the actual TV keeps playing up. Obviously.
One can read books. Or, if the tech works, watch books on the small screen. We enjoyed Val McDermid’s Karen Pirie, which we’d caught being filmed on holiday in St Andrews. And there’s always Why Didn’t They Ask Evans, which hadn’t been changed too much.
Music? I feel too old for it. Often don’t even fire it up on the laptop when I sit here and write.
But anyway, Culture and I are fifteen today. And I’m almost looking forward to the new season of NCIS.
CultureWitch 