Christmas, nonetheless, was good. Great day down at my sister's down the arse end of the Ards peninsula: probably all the better for my being substantially under-prepared, so it was really seasonal. Good company and I bought everyone silly games this year, which we indulged mightily.
Christmas telly: loved loved loved Ballet Shoes. Dr Who, hm... But then again, I like it but I'm not a fan. That Russel T needs to watch himself. Someone else should script edit him. Caught the Extras christmas special --no, Ricky Gervais, putting your hands up on a million pound BBC budget and crying 'Mea Maxima culpa' does not absolve yourself of all you luvvie wank this year and the last. Find something else other than yourself to write about. I suspect all the laughs came from Steve Merchant --the George Michael cruising scene was very funny. Gordon Ramsay's cameo was pointless and embarassing.
Fighting the good fight with an new Freeview box (thank you Tesco's vouchers!). There's an aerial in the attic with a cable, and a socket in the living room but I suspect nothing in between. I'm paying Beardie Branson a fortune (the bill almost doubled when the Virgin 'brand' took over NTL) for channels I don't watch, so I really really want this sweet little twenty quid black box to work.
Research is hell: booked a weekend break for us (and Enid's Mum too!} in Istanbul end of January. Ludicously cheap flying direct on Turkish Airline from Dublin. Hoping for some Orhan Pamuk-ish snow. Reading Elif Shafak's The Flea Palace because it shares the same central conceit as my book --diverse lives in apartments in the same building. Enjoyed The Bastard of Istanbul but, eh, I'm not loving this. Some dialogue, something happening in the present rather than backstory would be good. But hey! Istanbul in winter! So so looking forward to it.
Dayjob note to self: isn't it about time someone (ahem) did a new --but as good as the original-- version of The Box of Delights? Maybe as a single, rather than series?