Doctor Who

When Laurence arrived last week, he brought two things that his brother had sent with him.
The first was a Saturday Guardian magazine which has a selection of short stories from well-known writers. It is a treasure that I am taking out and reading from time to time, savouring each story, each advert, each article. I don't actually run my hand over it and whisper 'my precious,' but it has that kind of cachet for me at the moment.

The second thing was a disc of Doctor Who episodes. With Ben had come the first part of the series, some of which we had seen when we were over anyway, with Laurence came the remainder.
I am still stunned by how good David Tennant is in this role. It is as though all of the Doctors leading up to the present one have been...well, leading up to the present one.
The original Doctor, William Hartnell, of course will forever be..the original Doctor. And I liked Tom Baker personally, because he had so much fun with the part. Even Christopher Ecclestone, who was in the last series, or the first series of the New Who if you like, was good, he gave it gravitas, as Kevin pointed out to me, he was a well-known and revered actor that would draw people back in. But David Tennant, well he gives it energy, it is an absolute delight to just watch him playing the part. Of course, it is a combination, Russell T Davies (writer of 'Queer as Folk') is giving him some stonking lines to deliver, he too, I feel, has found the right actor to work with. Long may it last. In Canada we are getting the new series of Doctor Who at the beginning of October.

It has been hot here the last few days, very, very hot. On Friday afternoon, Karen finished work early and came over so we could spend a girlie afternoon. Well, kinda. My British friend Karen and I used to have girlie afternoons wandering around Gunwharf Quays and drinking hot chocolate, I miss those. Canadian Karen and I walked along Steveston pier and ate ice-cream. Karen obsessed (quite understandably in this case) about her flooded flat, I obsessed about whether we could get towed from where we had parked.
We went to collect the boys from work and walked along another bit of Steveston waterfront. We sat and wondered about a man parked in a car whose purpose in being there seemed to be to feed the birds - a normal thing for a British person, didn't even occur to me it was odd, but Karen queried it - and we loudly mimicked bits of sketches from Little Britain. Well, the loudly bit was me really, an elderly man turned round thinking I was accusing him of being the only gay in the village, or a lady, or some such.

As well as having a Who-athon yesterday, Kevin and I watched 'Scary Movie 4'. Our friend Steve had a small part in this, but sadly it didn't make it to the finished product. Like loyal friends we watched anyway - well, Steve's away freezing his butt off in a river, making a TV drama for CBC, so he won't find out for some time.
SM4 was a lot of laughs, I suggest you record it and store it away until you feel a bit low, then watch it on the basis that 'laughter is the best medicine except for diabetes'. I don't even remember who said that now.

In today's Observer, as well as an article about a new comedy by and starring Webb and Mitchell of 'Peep Show' fame, my interest was really piqued by a story about Sinclair Beecham, owner and brains behind the up market sandwich chain 'Prêt-à-manger'. He has a new project and it looks like an exceptionally good one. He has become fed up with London hotels that overcharge for everything from rooms to phone calls to Mars bars.
So he is building his own hotel where rooms will be reasonable, internet will be free, as will coffee and water in the rooms, and the prices for making phone calls won't simply stop people from making them.
Don't know about you, but I'm in.