|Keira Knightley in "The Duchess"|
Saturday was as unmemorable as it was unremarkable. One of those dull, rather pointless days when nothing of real note happens. My beloved football team - Hull City A.F.C. lost at home to lowly Luton Town and now it seems certain that we will be relegated from the English Championship. Woe is me! The only thing that might save us now is a ruling that Sheffield Wednesday and Wigan Athletic should have points docked for breaking financial rules. The words "straws" and "clutching" spring to mind.
I took a short drive to the Tesco petrol station to fill Clint's tank. He drunk it down like Somerset cider. "Ahhh! Lovely!" he sighed.
Then I drove to Whirlowbrook Park to begin reading "Gilead" by Marilynne Robinson. She's a gifted writer but it's not easy going. I managed thirty pages before heading home. The novel's voice is that of a priest in Iowa who is addressing those he has left behind and remembering what happened during his seemingly humdrum life of service.
For our evening meal, I made a chunky chicken and chilli sauce that we ate in tortilla wraps with basmati rice and sour cream. For dessert, Shirley came up with fresh raspberries from our garden in meringue nests with vanilla ice cream.
It was a grey, empty day. I put more food out for the birds and transferred organic kitchen waste to our compost bins. Two collared doves perched precariously on a springy apple tree branch as a magpie sought sustenance upon our lawn.
Though I am generally not into period dramas, via the magic of television, I watched "The Duchess" (2008) starring Keira Knightley and Ralph Fiennes. It was of particular interest because of its connection with Chatsworth in Derbyshire where the Dukes of Devonshire lived and indeed still live in the lap of luxury. I have frequently walked within the Chatsworth Estate east of Bakewell.
So that was Saturday. Not much to report but at least the weather forecast for the week ahead looks promising. Undoubtedly, there will be a couple more delightful walking expeditions and I guess I will make more progress with "Gilead". Not all days can be super-duper. There have to be ordinary days in which little happens. Otherwise, the special days would not be special.
“Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.”
"Waiting for Godot" by Samuel Beckett