Hot Hot Hot - Mind the Doors!

Hurrah, we have a heat-wave... which I spent most of indoors for various reasons (I should add, fully clothed without chance of naughtiness). Saw a very strange film on Sunday, Death Line, in which a man is horrifically murdered by an atavistic man on the platform of Russell Square tube station, his body is discovered by Alan Ladd's son and a woman in an Afghan coat, Donald Pleasance plays a police detective who's obsessed with a good cup of tea, and Christopher Lee shows up to speak directly to camera while Donald Pleasance and his underling reply to camera in a scene that's so obviously cobbled together from different recording days that the biggest surprise is when it ends with a shot of the three men in the same frame together. The film's called Raw Meat in the USA>, which gives away the fact that it's one of the most brutal films I've seen, but in a rather coy way. The music is also barking mad, as it seems to be a tribute to the two differing styles of incidental that appeared in Doctor Who at around the same time; discordant oboes honk away in one scene, while in the next a Delaware synthesiser squeals. The killer, meanwhile, has the oddest catch phrase of all time: 'Mind the doors...'

The heatwave also brings another reminder of impending summer - hay fever. This morning I stocked up on my hay fever tablets and tonight I feel like I'm breathing in hair and sand. In between, I got tetchy and a little bit snippy because there's an air of frustration and stress on the project I'm working on, and it's not really anyone's fault. It's just a product of external pressures, but this is the first time I've had a feeling that it could all fall apart.

One more reminder that summer's on the way - insect bites. I've got some horrific scabs on my shoulders thanks to *something* fancying a piece of me, so the first chance I get, I'm blitzing my room. Just in case.

In other news, IMDb reports 'Kidman Awarded Australia's Top Honor'. Surprisingly, it' s not a British passport...

Bank Holiday Visitors

It's 10am on a Bank Holiday Monday and with recent events, my mood's a bit uncertain. Then the doorbell rings. It's probably God-botherers, so I was gearing up for a bit of grumpy 'no thankyou' but my flatmate managed to get to the door first. Seems there's some incident going on down the road, and this team of window cleaners are trapped and can't get their vans out because of it. So, the enterprising head cleaner (!) decided to knock on some doors to see if they could do a bit of work while they're here. Hurrah - we're getting our windows done.

As P was making his way back up the stairwell to our flat, something caught his eye. A small bird had got caught between the window and the net curtains (ain't we posh) and was flapping away energetically. My childhood obsession with ornithology identified it as a great tit.

So, as I came to terms with the concept of being distracted by a bird first thing in the morning, Paul cupped his hands around the tit and I opened the window so he could gently usher the bird out.

I wonder how common that experience has been around the UK this weekend...