That would be 1066. Since I started teaching it, I knew there were two battles – one at Stamford Bridge, between Harold Godwinson (the Saxon, who was crowned king of England, and got beaten by William at Hastings) and Harald Hardrada (king of Norway), in the September. I’ve had this book, by Frank McLynn, for a few years now and never seem to have got around to reading it through. Finally, I have.

It was a good book, overall. I really liked the way he looked at the three main stars, and also a bit at Tostig; I’ve found that really useful, and no doubt I will use it at school. For a gal who isn’t much into military history, I also was able to follow through with what he said about the battles themselves (mostly), so that was something of a success. The main problem, though, was that a few time McLynn made statements and didn’t bother to back it up, or even give a reference. So that was a bit irritating, but overall it is a useful reference book for the period.

Now, to read my bio of William…

I just don’t care very much, frankly. Half a million people going into the city tonight for the opening?? Don’t people have better things to do? I guess I can understand it to some extent – it’s an excuse for a party, I suppose, and maybe there are people who genuinely feel some sort of ?patriotism? for Australia/the Commonwealth (although quite how you would feel it for something that really only exists for plebs every four years, I don’t know…).

Anyway. I am old and cynical.

I do rather worry that I will be sucked into watching some of it on TV.

A new-ish Tom Holt, which I got the other day. Pretty entertaining. I can’t help but feel that I am maybe getting over Holt a bit, which is sad – I enjoyed it, all right, and read it very quickly, but I didn’t quite get the same amusement out of it that I remember. Maybe I am getting too used to his quirky style, so I’m no longer surprised by the quirkiness of it. Anyway; I’m not too jaded yet, as I will still keep reading what he brings out.

It was an entertaining read – dragons being able to turn into humans (and goldfish) offer lots of potential, and he played with it. I quite like his outrageous use of being able to do anything, and the fact that he often doesn’t bother to explain it too much – or that he is perfectly happy to say that it was pure serendipity. Cheeky, is probably the best way to describe it.

I went to the Immigration Museum for the first time yesterday, and I must admit that I did not actually look at any of the immigration stuff at all. I only went to look at the Greek stuff that is currently there, on loan from a museum in Athens. I thought it was all Classical stuff, but it was actually stuff from neolithic times right up to the nineteenth century. The medieval/Byzantine-era stuff was pretty cool, but I really loved the classical gear. I frequently caught myself thinking “oh yeh, nice enough…” – and then realising it was something made about 3000 years ago, so not only do you have to appreciate the sheer artistry of the piece, but you also have to appreciate the fact that it has survived at all. There was pottery, jewellery, a couple of heads of statues… it was awesome.

The one complaint I have is with regard to the captions. The captions themselves were quite informative, but matching the caption with the artefact was sometimes quite difficult – because although each piece was numbered, and so were the captions, the pieces weren’t always arranged in numerical order! For no reason in particular, far as I could see, so it just seemed random. And if they wanted to arrange them that way, why didn’t they just re-number them? Anyway. Small issue.

Annie Lennox and David Stewart, “together for the first time in five years” apparently on Parkinson – very cool.

Is there anyone else that thinks Annie Lennox bears a moderately disturbing likeness to David Bowie, especially when she is wearing a suit and tie?

“Of course he has a knife; we all have knives! It’s 1183 and we are all barbarians.”

Thus spake Glenn Close, as the glorious Eleanor of Aquitaine.

I have finally seen this movie – the remake; one day I’ll see the original too (a familiar refrain). Sean Connery was fabulous, and Glenn Close… well. I didn’t much like Richard in this movie – he was very much the thug, and also quite insecure. John was a snivelling little wretch – definitely no revisionism here – but the most interesting character, I thought, was Geoffrey. He was great! I know so little about him; I wonder if there is any good bios about him? I will have to re-read my Eleanor bio – I really enjoyed that. I’m not sure I really liked the portrayal of her here; she was insecure, too, and emotional… I didn’t mind the deviousness and cunning, but I can’t decide whether they brought her down too much or not. And I think it would be interesting to find a really good, as-objective-as-possible bio of John.

The movie was great. Glorious costumes and buildings – although, I realise, almost all of it was set inside a castle, which was clever. I’ve just read a short thing on Robin Hood movies, comparing the Golden and Gothic portrayals of the Middle Ages. I think this walks a line between the two… it’s not completely clean and sanitised, but it’s also not Excalibur.

I think I just found the remains of Fido.

I realised this morning that I hadn’t seen him in a few days… which shows two things: how used I am to not seeing him, because he hides so well, and how little time I have actively spent looking at the fish recently.

I noticed this weird ball of gloop behind a bit of wood. I fished it out. I am still not 100% positive that it was Fido, rather than some food that had weirdly decided to grow rather than just disintegrate, but I think that’s actually mostly wishful thinking.

I don’t know why he died, obviously. I guess he was a bit old, in fish terms, and maybe didn’t cope so well with the heat over summer. I also don’t know why his body did the weird growing-stuff thing, rather than being et – it wasn’t that inaccessible – it was white/grey, fuzzy, yucky stuff.

I am mournful. Two of the most distinctive fish, gone.

Very sad discovery when we got home today: Cuban Pete will no more be shaking his maracas. We have no more cloach. I wonder if the heat finally got to him.

I have also finally got around to aquascaping the tank; it looks infinitely better, as it always does. I think I may have to buy some new plants, actually – some more creepy ones, since most of the ground stuff is dead. I’m not sure, but I think I found a dead Rainbow Widow among the leaves… erk.

Being a teacher has some perks: as soon as I heard school had bought Sir Thursday, it was mine! Ahead of a year 9 kid who also wanted it – I know who he is, since we’ve had a couple of Nix conversations – but it’s ok, he’ll get it Monday, since I read the whole thing last night. That may be one of the great things about teen lit: it’s so darn easy to read, it’s instant gratification.

This was, of course, a great book. I loved it. It’s a bit different from the others, in that there is a bit more about stuff that is happening back in the “Secondary Realm” that is our home, thanks to Leaf making it back. I usually get a bit annoyed when books go chapter for chapter with different characters, but again because this was so easy to read, I just flew through it and basically didn’t have time to get annoyed.

It’s a modicum darker than the others, although still on the light and happier end of kids’ fantasy; getting drafted into the Glorious Army of the Architect is no joke, but Arthur (or should I say Ray? No, that would be telling…) deals with it in his usual inimitable manner.

There are some interesting issues raised here – like Arthur not wanting to become a Denizen – that promise to make the next few books quite fascinating. It’s a little Potter-ish, in some ways, because although Arthur has access to magic, he doesn’t necessarily want to use it (although he does use it better than I believe Harry manages to, at least in the books).

Bring on Lady Friday!