Today I’ve been relabelling music on iTunes, as it seems to randomly put the artist or the composer first, so I can’t always find what I want (well, I can but not quickly and I’m impatient). I’m uneasy to notice I’ve got two albums categorised (not by me) as Folk. Said albums are Tom Lehrer and the Singing Postman which do not shame me entirely to admit to (at least, not as much as actual folk music would), though most people’s memories of 60s music are slightly different. When I added the SP CD, it would not afterwards eject itself from the computer. I was extremely embarrassed at the prospect of taking it to the repair shop and asking for help; even in Norfolk few people seem to admit to playing Hev Yew Gotta Loight Bor? and Dew Yer Far Keep a Dickie in public and I feared a polite reception would be followed by hysterical laughter after I slunk out of the shop. Luckily after a couple of hours it whirred loudly and spat out the divine Postie.
Rereading ‘The Big Sleep’. Can’t resist, have to read through it every year or two. Love hard-boiled fiction and Philip Marlowe is too adorable, much nicer personality than Sam Spade. And the description of the younger daughter – ‘she was twenty or so, small and delicately put together, but she looked durable’ – is one of my favourite lines ever. But it’s just as well the film was black and white, not even Humphrey Bogart could have carried off a powder blue suit and navy shirt.