There was a power-out that lasted most of the evening here, so we’ve been living in candle-light, eating crisps and junk food. But it was actually quite nice to have a vacation from the internet for one day.
I did beat Mark in Scrabble. Word to the wise, techno-dudes, don’t mess with lit-students when it comes to words. We won’t dig into circuit-boards, you don’t dig into thesauruses. Deal? 😀
Beyond that utter humiliation of my boyfriend, and the lesson that I’m far too competitive for my own good sometimes, we haven’t done anything worth reporting. Apart from a few moments of returning power a while ago, a relief that lasted about two minutes, I’ve just read in candle-light.
If there had been stars out, it would have been ever so romantic. We could have sat on the window-sill reading poetry in the moonlight. Alas, this is England. The sky was overcast, and rain was threatening, so we had none of that.
What I’ve been reading? It’s a book by Peter Ackroyd, non fiction, with the cumbersome title of “Albion – the origin of the English imagination.” The book traces ideas, images and patterns across the generations, and try to find a hint about what it means to be English. It dips into everything from Bede’s “Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Anglorum” over to Vaughan Williams. It’s very fragmented, so you have to stop and think when he takes off in a new direction. It’s like reading a book of random thoughts at times. But I think I’ll finish it. Maybe I’ll find out what it is to be English. I’ve been wondering.
I’m not sure that the power will remain on for long, so I’m going to go back to reading that, and then maybe actually do what I’m supposed to now and sleep. I’m bad at doing what I’m supposed to. I should be better at that.