on-back

The most recent previous recorded instance I have of this light functioning is a picture from 07/07/2007. I think it stopped working shortly afterwards and this is the first time I've noticed it back in service; though I suffer from extreme patchiness of attention when noticing things I walk past regularly (I didn't notice until last month that two of the four phoneboxes at the top of Middle Meadow Walk had disappeared) I usually look up at the one-way sign just beneath the lamp and go past it at least once a day. It's possible that it only gets switched on quite late as I was later than usual this evening in wandering past.

I'd been hoping to have a day off fiddling about with paint, broomhandles and poor-quality roller-holding things but did another section of the ceiling in between getting home and popping back out this evening. Even when completely dry and freshly-fluffed the roller only holds as much as can be held in place by the combination of the paint's surface tension and thixotropy, both reduced when using slightly watered-down paint for the first coat on the fresh plaster. A quick check of Homebase the other evening revealed nothing of any significant betterness (and I try to only use the significantly-even-more-shite-than-B&Q when its proximity makes it the only option) so other places will be visited on Thursday's trundle homeward.

As Nicky pops out to do things on Wednesdays I would generally try and go and see some sort of picture-film at the same time but the only thing which really appealed was Bound for Glory at the Filmhouse. I knew the basic facts about Woody Guthrie but would probably be unable to name or whistle any of his stuff and had never heard of the film but various mentions of early Steadicam use and Oscars for Bestest Cinematography persuaded me. I don't know where the Filmhouse's in-house copywriter got the idea to describe Carradine's portrayal as "understated" when it looks like he copied the bouncing cartoon walk from Mickey Mouse in Steamboat Willie but generally watchable and slightly odd for cameos by (in fairly quick succession) both M. Emmett Walsh and Brion James, both of whom I primarily associate with . The wee old woman to my left tried to sing along or make comments a little too often for my liking but at least the elderliness of her brain allowed a little excuse whereas the bloke to my right who unwrapped, ate a bit of, rewrapped, unwrapped, ate another bot of, rewrapped, unwrapped, ate the rest then scrunched up the wrapping of a bar of crunchy chocolate was just a moron.