slemslempike. I may not share Slem's deep appreciation of Keira Knightley but she was very good, as was Damian Lewis in the title role. The script was sharp and sparkled along nicely. I got to do my party piece about how Molière's comedy is descended from the Greek New Comedy of Menander and the Roman Comedy of Plautus and Terence, because I did about a fifth of my degree on the subject so I feel I should mention it occasionally.
When it started pelting with snow at 3PM, I felt quite smug that I'd decided to get the train in again. I was less smug on the concourse at Charing Cross at 10PM as I watched my train's details progress across the departure board without gaining a platform number, then vanish only to reappear constantly 'expected' at a minute earlier than the current time.
It eventually slunk in half an hour late, and what with that and a wait at Grove Park for a guard to walk over from the depot it was a quarter to midnight by the time I got home and I was feeling pretty misanthropic myself.
As I trudged up the road, a large fox trotted out of a nearby garden towards me. I said "Hello fox!" and it gave me a look of dismay, skidded to a halt, spun 180° like a cartoon character and galloped back the way it had come.
