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My brain was off in space today, but I did get a few things done.
1. Edited my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
yuletide fic, back from a wonderful beta who I can't name because it will be an ENORMOUS clue as to the fandom.
2. Cooked four meals: baked steak and potatoes with cauliflower cheese and broccoli for tonight, and the mighty and magnificent lamb rogan josh (with eggplant, cauliflower, broccoli, zucchini, pak choy, capsicum and other vegetables I'm forgetting) which will last the next three nights, mellowing in flavour every time. Oh, and the bread and butter pudding (with delicious raisins) left over from last night. A cool change means we eat well - on the hot days, we had a bowl of cold chopped-up sausages and peas in rice. Not bad, but not a gourmet delight.
3. Watched this week's Torchwood, Random Shoes.
I suppose on a show set in Wales, it's inevitable that half the characters are named Jones. I quite liked Eugene Jones, and his hopeful life and death. His friends were gormless and entertaining, the plot (or at least the extended character sketch) was thorough and I liked the unwinding of everyone's lies. What really annoyed me - and was starting to annoy me in Doctor Who - was the endless narration about how wonderful life is, and how it must be treasured. Okay, fine, but Suzie's single-sentence reason - that something was out there, moving in the dark - was much more chilling and compelling than all the flowery carry-on that this episode could muster in three-quarters of an hour. Yes, there was a genuine reason in the story for the narration, and there were parts where Eugene's confusion and slow discoveries were a good counterpoint to Gwen's investigation, but the episode had plenty to say without having to capitalise it, put it on a billboard and then hit the viewer over the head with it.
The funeral and the angry grief of the younger brother were genuinely touching, along with Gary's surprised mourning for his friend, and if the actors had been left to get on with it, the episode would have been vastly stronger.
1. Edited my
yuletide fic, back from a wonderful beta who I can't name because it will be an ENORMOUS clue as to the fandom. 2. Cooked four meals: baked steak and potatoes with cauliflower cheese and broccoli for tonight, and the mighty and magnificent lamb rogan josh (with eggplant, cauliflower, broccoli, zucchini, pak choy, capsicum and other vegetables I'm forgetting) which will last the next three nights, mellowing in flavour every time. Oh, and the bread and butter pudding (with delicious raisins) left over from last night. A cool change means we eat well - on the hot days, we had a bowl of cold chopped-up sausages and peas in rice. Not bad, but not a gourmet delight.
3. Watched this week's Torchwood, Random Shoes.
I suppose on a show set in Wales, it's inevitable that half the characters are named Jones. I quite liked Eugene Jones, and his hopeful life and death. His friends were gormless and entertaining, the plot (or at least the extended character sketch) was thorough and I liked the unwinding of everyone's lies. What really annoyed me - and was starting to annoy me in Doctor Who - was the endless narration about how wonderful life is, and how it must be treasured. Okay, fine, but Suzie's single-sentence reason - that something was out there, moving in the dark - was much more chilling and compelling than all the flowery carry-on that this episode could muster in three-quarters of an hour. Yes, there was a genuine reason in the story for the narration, and there were parts where Eugene's confusion and slow discoveries were a good counterpoint to Gwen's investigation, but the episode had plenty to say without having to capitalise it, put it on a billboard and then hit the viewer over the head with it.
The funeral and the angry grief of the younger brother were genuinely touching, along with Gary's surprised mourning for his friend, and if the actors had been left to get on with it, the episode would have been vastly stronger.