Random

Yesterday
we set out to sample green ice cream. Pistachio wins out over chocolate mint, in both our opinions. Helena and I would eat it in a box; we would eat it with a fox. But I had but the merest hint of a taste of it. Somehow I got saddled with eating the losing flavour, but I guess there are worse things to do on a sunny afternoon. Next up: green tea ice cream versus lime sorbet.

Tomorrow
we will watch Doctor Who. We're only two episodes into season 3, but we like Martha, even while we miss Rose. We loved the Shakespeare episode, Helena for the witches, me for the idea of the power of words, old magic, the naming of things (which fit really nicely with the book I was reading at the time (The Amulet of Samarkand, by Jonathan Stroud)). We both chuckled at the Harry Potter references.

(I'm amazed that Helena is even aware of the phenomenon. We did catch a portion of the third movie on tv some time ago. I'd all but forgotten about it but Helena is quick to notice his image anywhere. Apparently one of her classmates is a big fan, which I find odd for a 4-year-old, but hey, here I am telling you about our Doctor Who adventures. It's the cutest thing, though, that Helena now refers to him in French, that is, with her accent: 'Arrie Poterre. Yes, I pre-ordered a copy.)

So Helena learned a little bit about Shakespeare being a writer (who wrote about witches!), and she was very pleased to realize that now she knows about two writers: Shakespeare and Dr Seuss. But she knows more than that, I had to remind her, and I had time only to say "Dumas" and could not go on with my list as she was already proclaiming "Tous pour un, et un pour tous!" and she was running off to tell her grandmother (we were at her house when the Shakespeare episode aired) about the musketeers' capes and hats. Ah, yes, the power of words.

(I love this play-by-play from other young fans.) (Season 3 is barely under way here, and already there's news of next season's shakeups.)

Lately
I've been watching Gaslight (with J-F, not with Helena). I'd seen it (the Ingrid Bergman version) many, many years ago, but I have fresh interest in it now knowing that it was based on the play by Patrick Hamilton. Certainly I'm recognizing traits and themes that are present in his other work. We've not yet viewed the earlier, British film adaptation. (I'll have more to say about it in weeks to come.) I'm drawing out the viewing actually, as I'm impatiently awaiting delivery of (along with a "guide" to Hamilton that suddenly appears not to be available till 2009) The Gorse Trilogy, the third part of which I've not yet read. (And of course, I've yet to read Hamilton's actual play, Gaslight, for which I've not yet placed an order. — Why am I waiting to do that, exactly?) And still I search the same second-hand shops regularly hoping that a Hamilton I haven't read will crop up.

Next week
I travel to New York City, for my job. Sadly, it's just for the day. Sadly, it will interfere with my usual Doctor Who watching. Weirdly, the thing I'm agonizing most over regarding the trip (even more than having to have my passport application expedited) is what to wear. I'm aflutter at the prospect of maybe, just maybe, having some time at lunch to shop for shoes. I'm aflutter at the prospect that maybe I'll have to fly in again some time.

Key reasons I like working for the private sector: 1. Sometimes the company orders pizza for lunch, for everybody, just because. 2. The other week we had a visit from Ben & Jerry — carting their cart around the office to ensure everyone had an ice cream cone that fine summer day. 3. Oh! I have to go to New York.