Hampstead, 'A Christmas Carol'
I had a horrendously dry throat last night which kept me awake until 4:30. So I didn't join Mumtaz, Katie and Charlotte at the ParkRun but had a long cuddle with Jack instead. Then he went to see a film with his mate, while I played contenders for my favourite music tracks of the year, at least until my laptop battery ran out, I hadn't got the lead, and I couldn't log in on my phone, as I don't know the password and the re-set email didn't arrive.
I therefore spent a short time looking at soft porn videos before meeting Jack at St Pancras to pick up tomorrow's train tickets. We got a bus to Hampstead and had soup, a cinnamon roll and a vegan brownie at the little cafe Karma Bread, before a short walk on the Heath, something I always like to do at this time of year, despite the muddy bits. We cut through to the high street through the classic old narrow, bendy and hilly streets such as beautiful Flask Walk.
However, I was feeling ill and starting to get aches, so we got a bus home, I covered myself with numerous layers and we watched Parts 2 and 3 of the BBC's new version of A Christmas Carol. Usually I hate watching telly for two hours, as it's so often a disappointing waste of time, but as I was ill I stuck through it. As a Steven Moffatt production, you'd think if anything he'd add some complicated twists and turns, but as well as some boring introspective bits, introduced a sexual blackmail element, as well as a suggestion that Scrooge was abused as a child, and left out the woes of people who owed him money. They did feature one of his factories collapsing, as has happened to Asian suppliers of UK companies in recent years
I had a bath and felt a bit better. I went to bed quite early after seeing a few minutes of a programme called Dancing On Ice. There were dancers twirling their dresses, and I was wondering whether they'd be wearing modern semi-thongs, or whether staid ITV would put them in big knickers. In fact, it was hard to see their knickers at all, which I thought was the whole point of twirling their dresses.