I had all sorts of plans yesterday, one being a splendid post about Hild and her (admittedly utterly imaginary) links to Cuthbert’s Gospel. But the sun poured into my day and my brains spilled out and I spent the afternoon gazing at the treetops over the ravine and listening to birdsong. The light on the leaves changes constantly. It’s mesmerising.
Late in the afternoon we pottered off to Kelley’s folks’ house and drank beer on their marvellous deck. Came home. Ate dinner. Watched a movie (Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy). Ah, the desperately hard life of a writer…
Nicola Griffith 
Think of it as a mental health day. Better yet, just think of it as a beautiful peaceful day. That's what it sounds like to me. Thanks for the photo.
Perhaps I'll have another one today…
how did you like tinker, tailor,….?
kate
I hadn't read the book–tried, but could never stay with it–so had to work to keep up. The first hour or so was engaging, but then as I saw what the arc would be, I wasn't bothered whether I finished it or not. The pace was a bit deliberate for me. I was also mildly confused by the queer subtext–whether it was intended or not. But the acting was great.
So, hmm, a B.
We saw the movie at the theater with Terri's mom and friend. None of them had read the book but were sold on attending by the buzz. About a quarter of the way through, I noticed that both mom and friend were asleep. It was then that Terri announced in a staged whisper “Nothing is happening.” And they were right, it was slow enough to put an oldster to sleep and there definitely were no car crashing slam bamming thriller moments. And yet, for those of us with some sense of history and a willingness to wait, the satisfaction of the last shot to the head was worth it. It was really like that back then. Nowadays, we have our Homeland securities to tuck us in at night. I am not as thrilled.
I think the British and Americans have always done things differently…