On Wandsworth Road, there's a big yellow sign pointing to Ascalon Street, for some reason. As far as I know, there's nothing of interest there. Anyway, despite living in the area for thirty odd years, every time I see it, I misread it as Eskaton Street, and go WTF?
That spook story THE THIRTEENTH TALE was quite passable last night, and I enjoyed the Michael Palin programme about Andrew Wyeth, who was interestingly odd, it turns out. I still don't really care much for MRS BROWN'S BOYS, but have to admit that that one where Mammy beat Granddad over the head with a tray to the strains of MULE TRAIN is a cherished memory.
Gosh, Antony Gormley got knighted. I was in a City Lit class with him once. You could tell he was going to be a big shot.
Well, apart from improved mobility, lower blood pressure, and overall (I hope-) better health due to dropping some of the deathfat, it's been rather a grim year. I don't think many people will be sorry to see the back of it. Hope springs eternal, though. Who knows, some good stuff could happen, maybe. Have a good one, everybody.