Monday Morn

Only problem with the clean life is that one wakes at sparrow fart feeling eeerily clear of eye and compos of mens, dangles leg over side of bed without wanting to flop right back - and positively bounds out to the patio to collect Sambo and Koutsi's food bowls.

Which is where and when this sort of view hits one in the eyeballs prompting enquiries of the beasts,

"Yo! When did they start churning this out on the assembly line?"

I should be a bit frail because I spent most of last night/early morn watching Apocalypse Now Redux on the biggish screen with the Sennheisers clapped to my ears - actually the best way to hear this movie because so much is Sheen's gravely voice-over and the soundtrack itself is suitably shrieky and dante-esque. I kept whipping off the cans to check for weirdos slithering around outside.

Redux: I was once walking with John Updike into a lecture and Q&A on his latest oeuvre when the dour scribbler gave me a sharp look: "These people do know what 'redux' stands for?"

I gave a confident Marxist wiggle of the eyebrows even 'tho I myself had not yet looked it up.

Close shave and, once I'd got it right, much fun watching the literary types squirm as I hissed, "By the way, he'll ask - you do know what 'redux' means?"

One bright spark who must remain nameless because Selina hates being caught out:

"Of course! But just remind me how the Americans are defining it these days ...."

Masterly! ... 'these days' ... clever girl.