The Man Who Wouldn't Die

It's 6.30 and oddly for this time of day L seems to be not only wide-awake but also quite lively. So we indulge in some quick but wonderful sex. Things seem to be on a roll on the sex front at the moment and I have been struggling to fit in my seven thoughts.

Saw L, Doggo, and Son on the paper round as I drove to work. Don't think any of them saw me. They all looked very busy. The collie in particular seemed to be extremely industrious and thoroughly enjoying himself. Hope he catches up on his sleep when he gets home because I expect a lively performance from him this evening at his agility and I don't mean just from his gob.

We’ve been pondering on the possibility of going up to Scotland at half term for a spot of skiing, walking, and general chilling out (mainly drinking). We've also been thinking of inviting my Dad, who's always been a keen skier but is now in his late 70's and hasn't skied for nearly 10 years. We can't take him abroad because, rather selfishly, we need him to dog sit!

Rang him up for a brief word. A brief word with my Dad takes around 30 minutes. As I put the phone down after the call he was about to go in the loft to check out his ski gear. So I think he's keen. I said to him that he should discuss it with my Mother first. So while he was on the phone to me he went downstairs and said ‘We’re going to Scotland for a week’. So that’s sorted then. Although that wasn't really my idea of a discussion.

Unfortunately the cottage we have our eye on, only allows small well-behaved dogs. So, as we don’t have such a pet, I need to check with them if they will allow a large hairy badly behaved one instead. That's the dog by the way not Son. Could be a stumbling block.

Dog class goes well. It's a frantic session and afterwards both Doggo and I are creased.

L is at yoga and we pick her up on the way home. I suspect she's only going because she tells me she likes the outfits. Hopefully she'll model one of them for me.

Finally we get around to watching part two, and thankfully there is no part three, of Catherine Bloody Cookson's The Man Who Cried. The woman seems to specialise in writing stuff in which you wish all the characters die instantly. I know it's from a bygone age and attitudes were different then but for God's sake didn't people have common sense. Not that they do now I suppose, perhaps things haven't changed much.

In part two, war breaks out and with all the air raids you end up hoping they all get buried under a pile of rubble but they all keep surviving. When one of them does get bombed, they dig her out, and at first she survives, although not for long.

Unbelievably reviews of the film on the internet seem favourable!

"Great performances and great writing. Ciaran Hinds is extraordinary. This story is complex, difficult, and compassionate. The screenplay is outstanding. This movie moved me. Ciaran Hinds is the best actor working today. See it and open your heart. "

Err No.

It's bloody awful. None of it makes any sense. The Man Who Cried? It's the audience who cried, in frustration. Even L hasn't liked either of the Cookson's we've watched. No more L. Please.

Somehow we stay AF. We deserve a medal for that.