Ooh, it was good. We both enjoyed it immensely, squeaked a few times, were heartily amused at the woman next to me who stated the obvious at various points in the film (eg “oh look, it’s James Bond”) whilst eating a massive tub of popcorn without offering any to her partner and then starting to chomp on a packet of crisps and headed off home, quite surprised to see that it was already 7.30. I took the precaution of phoning the Sage to ask him to put the sausages on to cook.
As we left Norwich, we were surprised to see a big queue of cars waiting to get in off the ring road, especially the ones queueing for County Hall. No idea. As we drove through Boringland we were charmed to see the cheerful groups of children, each with caring adult or two, going Trick or Treating – I explained to Elle that no child ever braved our long dark drive on Hallowe’en. And we got talking about spooky things and I said that if you didn’t believe in any religion, how could you believe in spooks or ghosts and so on? And we agreed to take a walk round the churchyard.
“What are we eating with the sausages?” I said, the leftover ratatouille. Ah, it seems that Elle had that for lunch….okay. I’ve got vegetables. That’s all right. In the end, it was cauliflower and peas and some potato crisps. And I introduced Elle to brown sauce. “There’s red sauce and brown sauce, you eat them both with the same things, pretty well. Liking brown sauce is a test of Englishness.” “What’s in it?” “Er, vinegar, mostly, I think.” Elle likes brown sauce. She likes ketchup …. do you know, in Germany they call mayonnaise ‘white sauce’? I explained that white sauce over here means béchamel. And we pretentiously call it, when mixed with ketchup, Marie Rose, which she thought was very funny. As it is.
So, after dinner, off we set to the churchyard, and I led her around the church, then into the ‘new’ churchyard and I told her a few stories about people who I knew who had died, showed her the Sage’s family’s graves, then we went into the church and I showed her the organ. And she sat down and played, and it was brilliant, really good fun. I took some short films of her, but I haven’t told her about the blog so I don’t think I can post any because it wouldn’t be fair.
And then we came home and ate trifle and the Sage has made coffee. Tomorrow, I’m meeting Eddie Two-Sox in Norwich.
Oh, and I sketched a child’s chair. Badly, but it doesn’t matter in the least. Actually, it’s truly rubbish and all on the huh. I don’t care. I can draw. Very badly indeed, but so what? Next time, I’ll still fail. But maybe I’ll fail better.
Is brown sauce like Worcestorshire(looks misspelled no matter how I spell it) sauce, HP or other steak sauce?
Good for you doing some drawing! Don’t be so critical of your efforts. The goal is to just enjoy doing it.
HP sauce. No, I’m not being critical, it is rubbish but I’m fine with that. It looks like a slightly wonky chair, but so what if it’s wonky?
Worcestershire, btw
i like the concept of “failing better!” thank you, sugar!! xoxoxox
It’s not mine, it’s Samuel Beckett. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. And it’s true, you learn more from failure than you do from success, and if you never fail it means you’ve never taken much of a risk.
What a very beautiful post.
The Great Ursus and his Lovely take me to the Anglia Square Odeon. It’s a bit ragged round the edges, but there’s parking, you don’t need to mortgage your first born to get drinks and snacks and the staff are great fun.
Glad Ellie is enjoying her stay. My mother who was German said the only thing she recognised when she came to England was Tomato Ketchup…the rest of it was completely new to her.
Coming from Trinidad, brown sauce was a bit of a surprise. It’s great with cheap Cornish pasties.
Keep failing dear heart. Your chair will stand proud.
“Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” I’ve never heard that before but I like it.
I might make that my motto.
I remember when the Odeon (it isn’t called that now, btw, now Riverside (which used to be Vue) is the Odeon and the Castle Mall one is Vue, which is all a bit confusing) was built in the 1960s, so smart and posh with the plush seating!
And thank you, darlings. Yes, a good motto.
“all on the huh”
Norfolk. Right there!
Thass roight, Greg!