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Autumn is turning out to be a bit pfft. As far as the camera is concerned, it is, anyway. I made an effort to get up early but after the inevitable distractions, three phone calls and then some kitchen-based faffing didn’t leave home until gone time for lunch.

Headed north beyond Colchester and cut into the Colne Valley to hunt out red trees, which all seem to have headed off somewhere else. So much for ‘this’ll be the best autumn for a decade’. What little there is of autumn around here was blown off the branches last week when I was getting blown off the pier at Clacton. What’s left is still a dirty green, and dying.

Took the road under the viaduct to Chapel, and even that looked boring and grey, so bypassed the whole lot and headed to the hell that is Ikea. At least it’s a cheap hell, I suppose, and beyond getting caught in a minor jam behind some incapacitated driver who’d wiped off the front of her car on a lamppost it was fairly successful, screaming kids aside.

I even managed to add to the little stack of Christmas presents I’m piling up here, so it was worth the piercing howls.

Dinner in Galleywood: Andrew’s fish pie. He’s turned into a regular masterchef lately. I’d carted around a handful of DVDs, so we watched Minority Report which felt much longer than I remembered, but played as well on TV as it did in the cinema.

They really should cut the eyeless drug dealer scene, though, or put it later in the sequence. It just looks tacky.

This entry was posted on Saturday, October 18th, 2003 at 11:59 pm and is filed under Journal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.