So the dreaded Beckett is finished!

It hasn't been, altogether, that bad an experience. After reading John Mood's essay on "The Personal System", it all made a hell of a lot more sense. A few things really fell into place, I stopped reading the endless pages of lists which I realised don't really mean anything beyond the symbolic.

Some sections of it are incredibly beautiful, and so well written. It puts many other authors to shame:

But he found it strange to think, of these little changes, of scene, the little gains, the little losses, the thing brought, the thing removed, the light given, the light taken, and all the vain offerings to the hour, strange to think of all these little things that cluster round the comings, and the stayings, and the goings, that he would never know nothing of them, nothing of what they had been, as long as he lived, nothing of when they came, of how they came, and how it was then, compared with before, nothing of how long they stayed, of how they stayed, and what difference that made, nothing of when they went, of how they went, and how it was then, compared with before, before they came, before they went.

It makes my confusion over pretty much all of the rest of the book, even more ridiculous. Awesome.

Also, my photography skills are really pretty bad. The flattest (and tidiest) place being my bed. Not the best background. I might try and clear a space before the charity shop photography marathon.

But, today I'm wearing one of my favourite necklaces.

It's a bit of a Pippi Longstocking story, but...

I found the VW in the road, such a good find! And superglued it to a chain.

I. Love. It.