I'm watching a programme about the Kelvingrove Gallery restoration project, which has prevented me from visiting for the last three years, dammit. Admittedly, I was in Glasgow for almost two years before the place shut down but, well, I'm lazy, ok?

But now it's finished and I was going to go this weekend but - oops - I'm not going to be here this weekend. I'm going up to Aberdeen to see how my nephew (he of the prodigious talent for sleeping and wailing) is. I just hope I shake off the cold before I get there (Jase, I'm blaming you, simply because it's your fault). I'm being remarkably stoic about it, mind - and not just because Tinka is suffering too and I'm meant to be all resilient and shrug it off and the like.

It's odd how quickly some books are read compared to others, isn't it? The Subtle Knife: Maybe 5 hours. Compare that to Lady Chatterley: So far I've waded through about half of it and it's taken me two weeks at least.

Oh, and Doctor Who is so RTD's homage to Philip Pullman.

Dave xx

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