Just Routine

We seem to be reclaiming some of the routines that we'd grown so comfortable with in our old stomping grounds here at our new address. Noi popped up north on Friday afternoon but returned late last night and we just watched our recording of the results show for American Idol. We now sort of know all the contestants' names and are confirmed viewers of the new series. Not only that, I recorded the first in a new series being aired of Midsomer Murder so it looks like we'll be back guessing the various culprits for the next few weeks.

I finished the Tolstoy this morning and was struck by the last theological question posed by Levin. I'd never noticed its precise nature before. I think I know the answer implied but I must look a bit further into this one. It seems to me, by the way, that we leave Kostya in the same place we leave Pierre in War and Peace: his journey is far from over. And mine continues into Ackroyd's biography of Shakespeare, which I picked up a few days back but which just got overwhelmed by my engagement with the Russian master, and Franzen's The Corrections, which strikes me as being distinctly over-written, or at least the first section does.

Meanwhile we're off to Arab Street in a few minutes for the cup that cheers and I can routinely, but thankfully, state: it just doesn't get any better.

19.30 - A Correction

Did Mr Franzen a disservice earlier. Now on the second section of his novel and it's hilarious. I'm in for a very jolly read, methinks.