Fever Pitch

Here's a conundrum to kick off with. What could be more sinister than being erased from history? We were watching a Discovery Channel programme about a woman Pharaoh who had been pretty much been written out, but at some point, the presenter pondered who could have erased her from history or something more sinister. So if you can think of anything, let me know.

Do you have an evil side that can be used for the Good? I do. I have to curb my need to correct people's English grammar and sometimes pronunciation, not when it's based on accent, but when it's based on a mishearing of a word, laziness or incorrect stress.
MOST of the time I succeed, not always.
I can't take 'artic' for 'Arctic' for example, that's pure negligence.
'Forsithia' for Forsythia is because you've only ever seen the word written down.
Emphasising the adjective before the noun it's describing is because you haven't got to that page in your English text book or you don't listen to the BBC enough.

But both Kevin and my friend Ree are prepared to let me loose on their reviews and reports. I get to criticise, underline, suggest, edit, insert comment boxes and they don't hate me afterwards. Well, they might, but they let me do more and that's what counts. These are technical things that I don't even really understand, and in some ways that's easier, because I don't get sidetracked by the content.

Excitement is at fever pitch now on both sides of the Atlantic. Austen and Sue are making last minute arrangements, Marks and Spencer are working flat out to get my order to Portsmouth, Alex is frantically touring the entire country, lest any part of it remain unvisited and here I am like a kid who has opened almost all the little windows on a six month Advent calendar.
Which reminds me, I can't remember ever seeing anyone wearing a dog collar outside of a church here. Why is that?

We saw another great film yesterday, one that we had rented, 'Driving Lessons' with Julie Walters, another of Britain's great middle-aged women actors. This was a wonderful film from start to finish.

So, who could fail to be fascinated by the story of Bin Laden's 27 year-old son being outraged by publicity over his marriage to a 51-year-old, five times divorced grandmother from Moulton in Cheshire. Seriously, you couldn't make this stuff up.
I just hope to god she isn't going to cost the British taxpayer money by going to live in one of those places whence she'll have to be airlifted out in a couple of years because he treats her so shockingly and she can't get reasonable and free treatment for her MS.
Frankly, I think there should be a reality show in there somewhere, 'Growing up Gotti ' be damned, 'Living with the Ladens' bring it on!