The magic of the movies

"When I posted last month, I indicated that I was intending to catch up with films and festivals and see Dunkirk, The Big Sick and A Ghost Story at the cinema, along with Harriet Walter at the Edinburgh Book Festival, and the Screen Arts showing of Yerma. I did indeed do all of these things, though not quite in the order I intended."

Thus began my last post, as started on October 25th 2017 and languishing as a private WIP for three months until this morning. I probably was intending to mention that I thought Dunkirk was amazing, The Big Sick was a good, but more of an indie drama with laughs than an out-and-out comedy, and that A Ghost Story was a massively annoying if beautifully shot short film stretched unfeasibly to six times its optimum running length.

I probably would have also written about how astonishingly good Billie Piper was in Yerma, and culture lovers of Britain should thank RTD and the producers of Doctor Who day and night for taking a chance on a developing actress best known for being a pop star, lest she might have never found her true calling.

It was also at the end of October, so I may also have written about meeting up with California based LJ friends of yore for the second time in a year and what a treat that was.

However, I definitely would have written about the fact that, oh my word,  I BOUGHT A FLAT!!

It's the first property I own, and even with investing every spare penny for several years into a deposit, I needed a lot of help from my family, but oh, it's beautiful, it's mine, and I got there in the end. She's a bit of a fixer upper- a literally have a room I refer to as "the disaster room" as it is so rammed full of boxes and bookshelves (so many bookshelves)- but there's a kitchen I can see out of, it gets light in the morning, I have a garden!!

I am very happy, and now after three months of sorting finances, securing a mortgage, organising the move, emergency cleaning, decorating and wiring and I am finally at the stage where the fixing-up can begin in earnest. I have my 30 year old boiler and central heating system being completely replaced next month, and more sockets to be sorted before then. After that I have new appliances to buy that actually fit the flat, rather than jutting out from under work-surfaces to the extent that cupboard doors can't be opened properly and / or need to have a press door removed in order to fit them in a space. Then there's plastering to do, then more painting, then I can start moving furniture about, do more unpacking and consolidate the bookshelves and then I will finally have my bedroom in the bedroom I want to be in, which is also big enough to be my writing study.

It's all very exciting, and overwhelming, but mostly the good sort. I'll be having a wee break from it in a few weeks time, as I have tickets to Hamilton in London. Last night I dreamed I was actually supposed to be in Hamilton, but I got so nervous I hid in the backstage scenery and Lin-Manuel Miranda had to try and coax me out between debate battles. There's a metaphor in there somewhere.