Acting the Part

Is there an actress more compelling, more convincing, more gifted, more darned classy than Helen McCrory? No there isn't. She's starring in a series called Leaving currently on Saturday night television, and for me it's the best thing since the last thing she was in. I watched this programme recorded from Saturday night because it was cold when I came back from work and so I heated the whole house and lit the woodburner in defiance of this horrible change in the weather. Once the fire was blazing and the sitting room irresistible, I cooked my supper early and brought it in on a tray, then searched for some entertainment to accompany it. How clever of me to have thought Leaving would be good when so much else fails to interest.

We had an extra walk this evening because the sun suddenly came out and as always I was unable to resist its lure. Hugo roused himself from a deep sleep to come with me, and we strolled down the lane, past the church which is having a new roof put on, and as far as the first field on the right which sadly is a sea of yellow rape this year. I know these fields look pretty, especially from a distance, but I hate the smell of rape. Nearly like wisteria, it just misses and verges on the sickly for me. On the way back I spotted five small hares racing around in circles on the other side of the lane, but Hugo's attention was elsewhere and he missed them. It's been a hectic day. Straight after work I raced over to Woodbridge to resume my product manager's duties, doing a last minute clean before the tenant moves in on Friday, and rescuing the things I'd left behind, like my hoover (which I haven't missed). Joe the handiman then came to look at my garage with a view to painting it, and I had planned an evening of bridge with Carolyn at the Framlingham club. In the end I had to cancel this event which we were both looking forward to - potential new partners - as I just ran out of time. And it seemed mean to leave Hugo alone again when he'd been out all day, and had stayed by himself for a long evening on Saturday when I saw Eugene Onegin in Aldeburgh. I'm just so proud of him. If only I'd known that leaving a dog alone just takes time, so that they find the confidence to know they are safe. And he's found it now. My heart thumps a little quicker when I think of how far he has come, how insecure he must have felt, but how happy and trusting he is now.