One with slightly less rat in it.
Nov. 16th, 2012 09:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
supermouseI've had a pretty good day. I'm still learning Latin from Lingua Latina (a book which teaches Latin by starting off in a very Janet-and-John style and gradually adding vocabulary. There's not a word in any other language than Latin in the book, other than the copyright notice.) I pored over a medieval court record, although I think I have as much from it as I can get without help. There are only about four words missing, but they're the vital ones which make sense of what the dispute was actually about. I can tell who it was about, and when, and where everyone lived, and what the sentence was, but not what exactly Gilbert had done to John.
I also went out on the bike. Something is amiss with the back wheel. The ride itself was great. Lots of mud and horse poo, and something across the path which looked alarmingly like a dead horse from a distance, but which turned out to be a long pile of chestnut-coloured sandbags placed to hold back a flood. Pol's been at home all day and has kept the sitting room very warm, so my room has more or less had underfloor heating. I got back from the ride and basked happily upstairs for a while and only had to redon all my winter woolies after he left the house. Pol's not been particularly welcoming of my presence all day, after I woke him up early by moving around the house, so I have left him to come out of it on his own.
I had a lovely evening watching The Spy Who Came In From The Cold, the book of which I never finished because I thought it too depressing. The film isn't any more cheerful, but there's so much less of it to wade through. I feel as though I've achieved something by reading it; earned some sort of merit badge or something. Much more fun was 60 Years of Attenborough, where he gets enthusiastic about filming techniques. I didn't realise until this programme that he has kept journals. I fully expect them to end up in a museum one day as a national treasure. Meanwhile, I am thankful that we still have the national treasure that is David Attenborough. Hatter cuddled up with me while I watched it, and seemed to really enjoy the scenes of swooping fish.
And so to bed.
I also went out on the bike. Something is amiss with the back wheel. The ride itself was great. Lots of mud and horse poo, and something across the path which looked alarmingly like a dead horse from a distance, but which turned out to be a long pile of chestnut-coloured sandbags placed to hold back a flood. Pol's been at home all day and has kept the sitting room very warm, so my room has more or less had underfloor heating. I got back from the ride and basked happily upstairs for a while and only had to redon all my winter woolies after he left the house. Pol's not been particularly welcoming of my presence all day, after I woke him up early by moving around the house, so I have left him to come out of it on his own.
I had a lovely evening watching The Spy Who Came In From The Cold, the book of which I never finished because I thought it too depressing. The film isn't any more cheerful, but there's so much less of it to wade through. I feel as though I've achieved something by reading it; earned some sort of merit badge or something. Much more fun was 60 Years of Attenborough, where he gets enthusiastic about filming techniques. I didn't realise until this programme that he has kept journals. I fully expect them to end up in a museum one day as a national treasure. Meanwhile, I am thankful that we still have the national treasure that is David Attenborough. Hatter cuddled up with me while I watched it, and seemed to really enjoy the scenes of swooping fish.
And so to bed.
