poliphilo

A guy came round yesterday morning and put us a satellite dish high up on the back wall. It was a free service, funded by government as part of the nationwide switchover to digital. I had to fetch out my saw and do a little tree surgery before he could get his ladder in place.

On our way back from the shops we called in at the library. Auriel the nice church lady who is named after an angel was working behind one of the desks. She told us how much we were missed- which I couldn't help but feel as an accusation. Ailz said something about her health- which is how we finesse our way through a lot of awkward situations.

In the afternoon I read Dashiell Hammett's Red Harvest. Hammett does that hard-boiled stuff so well it's a wonder anyone ever had the nerve to imitate him- though, of course, he must be the most imitated writer of the last century. He's a wonderful stylist. He'll describe a fight- even a chaotic pitched battle- so elegantly and simply you can follow every move every character makes- and that 's a hard thing to do.