Well ...

I'd meant to write about the reinvention of Mary's story in The Other Bennet Sister (2026), and how it's clearly influenced by Bridgerton (which I've no particular desire to watch), with its colour-blind casting and all, but thankfully there's a bit more to it so ... la di da ... instead I found myself watching Karolina Żebrowska's Why Does Everyone Have The Same Face Now?

And it struck me ... what actors look like really does matters (realised I can barely remember the other four Bennet sisters the moment they leave the scene).

Catching up

The last week before Christmas at work was really tough, not because anything out of the ordinary happened, but because my energy and, in effect, the drive to stay patient was running out. I finished Friday with a very pleasant discovery: we ate out at a place called the Valley Inn. Good name, good food, very Irish. We also went to Dún Dealgan, had coffee in our favourite place and took a stroll along the main street with a quick browse in our favourite independent bookshop (I bought my husband a children's book written by an Irish singer and actor, Gavin Friday). 

Other good things? I bought two balls of yarn (from Norwegian Sandnes Garn) and bamboo circular knitting needles, size 4.00 mm. Also, finally decided to start journalling in one of the notebooks I had acquired a while ago. With a fountain pen :) And I gave my husband his Christmas present early (a nice coat he chose himself, Moncrief, dark No. 14). We also gave our neighbours presents, and received something from them in return.

I'm recovering after the intense weeks watching the old Dalgliesh series with Roy Marsden (I've finished A Taste for Death and have started Devices and Desires). Today will be about packing my suitcase and deciding what to wear for the journey. I'm still a bit wound up, but that will pass for sure.

Nostalgia and absent-mindedness

In the morning the first two episodes of the classic Robin of Sherwood. I remember it from the days when you had to wait for a programme – you couldn't just watch it whenever you fancied, as you can today. In Poland, the episodes were scheduled every Sunday, usually around the time of the second Mass at our church. I can safely say that Robin of Locksley played by Michael Praed contributed a fair bit to my secular leanings ;) It was a marvellous medieval fairytale, with a stunning cast: not only Praed with his iconic '80's hairdo, but also the dreamlike Trott with her red curls, and the brilliant Nicolas Grace, who had all the best lines. I'd absolutely love to visit some of the locations where the series was filmed. I even looked up a few links, and they were fascinating.

While still caught up in this sentimental journey, I learned that "praed" means "meadow" in Cornish. Cornish is one of the Celtic languages, and it sounds really lovely, like all Celtic tongues do (of course, I'm aware they’re not especially similar to one another).

In the meantime, the weather over the last two days changed from a sunny and warm to cold and tipsy. I'm sure we had negative digits at night, and during the day there was light snow several times, dancing like dove feathers in the air. I spent Sunday mostly inside, and unfortunately forgot about Fred's birthday until late in the day. I feel bad about it.

Below, while faffing about in the garage for like five minutes, I found something I want to take with me to Ireland, The Palace by Wiesław Myśliwski, a book that I've never read and which cover I remembered from my childhood.

Trudging through the weekend

Fred works 8/9 to 5 everyday until tomorrow, I'm spending the weekend mostly on my own, reading, writing, sleeping, thinking about the future (not really, or trying not to, as it doesn't help with my mood).

Yesterday I stumbled upon something exciting (it's never too late for a good discovery): found out that Agatha Christie: The ABC Murders with Malkovich is available on the RTÉ Player. As a fan of David Suchet's Poirot I can say that Sarah Phelp's approach (the screenwriter) was distinctive, but also quite enjoyable. Found the pace a bit too slow at the beginning, and the darkness and digitally enhanced scenography too much for my taste. But from the second episode I was more and more entertained by the gloomy atmosphere and some expected alterations to the plot. I cherish the educational touch to it as well, as I had no idea what the flash and circle pin meant. Well, now I know (thank you, Uncle Google). Funny (not) how the society keeps recycling old scripts these days.

In the evening, Fred and I watched Rory Gallagher: Calling Card, a documentary about this magnificent guitarist, featuring his brother Dónal, and other people recalling the artist, Brian May among them. Nothing big, but time well spent.

Rory, what an irish face, indeed: