Not the new Stieg Larsson

I did manage to read to the end of Camilla Lackberg's The Ice Princess because I always read to the end of a book I've started ... actually that's not true, I never got further than 10 pages into James Joyce's Ulysses. The cover of Lackberg's book pronounced "7 million books sold" and promised that the novel was "a masterclass in Scandinavian crime writing". Certianly the icy setting is beautifully, and comprehensively, described and I was forced to crank up the heating while reading as I felt the chill. But ... I didn't really get involved with the central characters, Erica and Patrik, enough to care if they managed to solve the crime whilst embarking upon a relationship. It's as if the chilliness creeps into the writing; the style is cold and detatched. I didn't enjoy it.

Saturday 26 November

A 'big night out' at the Marriot Hotel in Glasgow for the Scottish Rally Championship Awards Dinner. An outing for the posh frock and 'f... me' shoes. And, since we were staying overnight, something smart/casual for the meet and greet pre-dinner and for breakfast.
The fifth floor room had a delightful view of some of the off-ramps of the M8 in the city centre. The bed could have slept 4 people without crowding. Nice. Peculiar pillows ... squashy and bouncy at the same time. Rather like having your head on a water bed, I think [never having been on a water bed].
I like hotels, especially 5* ones.
Dinner was nice apart from the soup. What the hell are 'snow peas'?? The bright green soup smelled and tasted like mint sauce. Now I've nothing against mint sauce with a lamb chop or two but I definitely didn't want to drink a steaming hot bowl of it! Perhaps is was there's no peas in this soup?
Many silver coloured trophies were handed out - some to 'our boys', Mike Falconer and Peter Foy - and much alchohol was consumed [to take away the taste of the soup].
Once the band ratcheted up the volume to deafening we retired to bed.  

Friday - Ludovico Einaudi

Two hours of sublime music from Einaudi at the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall. A solo concert from the man himself received a standing ovation from the packed house.
I'm not sure why, but I didn't expect the huge auditorium to be as full as it was. The grand piano in the spotlight, centre stage seemed dwarfed by the massive space of the hall. Once Einaudi began to play the notes rippled and danced around the space drawing the audience into an intimate relationship with the player and instrument.
A stunning performance of enchanting sounds.

Welcome

Thanks for coming to my blog. I don't promise a daily comment - some days are not pass-remarkable. Readers don't want to know what I had for breakfast, [toast and marmalade today, as it happens] or dinner, unless it's particularly note-worthy.
I have a visiting cat today - Siamese, called Minnie, who belongs to a friend. Noisy, affectionate and playful. Got up this morning to find packets of cat food all over the living room floor - they had wee claw and teeth holes in them and were sucked dry of all the gravy. Entertaining visitor.
Finished reading, for the umpteenth time, Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons. Great mouthfulls of words; she never uses one descriptive word when three are possible. If you haven't read it, please do - you'll never look at porridge in the same way again!