Cornflake and I had a day out today.
A Friday holiday to eat out and mooch about has become a regular event. We call these sneaky days off, good Fridays. Last week we were at Tate Modern for a bit of Cezanne, today we went to Tate Britain. We saw a lot of what was on offer. Cornflake, unlike myself, has not spent extended periods of his life in art college, he does however have strong opinions. Today I learnt that he is steadfastly unimpressed by Rothko, likes a bit of Turner, he has some time for Victorian painters, no time at all for Georgians.
I amused myself imagining the painting shown is a representation of Cornflake and I as I over share some information about a bodily function.
Last weekend I had that same old annual quandary of what to do with an extra hour. The hour that was stolen six months ago, the hour time shift that has taken until now to get over.
I put it to good use by adding it to nine other hours and binge watched House of the Dragon.
Having cancelled the tv package that would have allowed me weekly access, I waited with some anguish until it had all been aired. I then purchased the entire series. Hence the need to fit in the time to watch it in it’s entirety.
Time well spent.
While being weirded out that the 11th Dr Who could be such a charming, violent, incestuous dragon rider, I must give credit where it’s due, he’s an excellent, even attractive, violent, incestuous dragon rider.
The question of what to do with the extra hour was, as always, quickly followed by the what to do about Halloween question. I did the usual, lights out, didn’t answer the door.
fat tart 