Last week I neglected to post anything during the weekend, which undercuts my determination to shift at least some of my online energy away from the perniciously-compromised enclave at Facebook and toward my own blog. I don’t have anything particularly momentous to add today — Margaret is working on some administrative stuff, I’m reading about the Epistle of James and transcribing the Order for Morning Prayer in Greek from my photocopies of the early 20th-century edition (based on the 1662 English Book of Common prayer) to a clean, Unicode-compliant text — and we’re both taking breaks to watch The Wire. The weather was clear and chilly today. Not much excitement, in other words, except when poor hapless Prez shot and killed his fellow officer. But that was in Baltimore, not Glasgow.
Wow. You haven’t already seen The Wire yet? In my estimation it stands head and shoulders above anything else I’ve seen on television. It’s well worth watching all the way through the final season.
I have, Margaret hasn’t. I made my way through pretty quickly the year I was in Glasgow alone, but it’s taking her longer, since she has me here (among other things) to distract her.
OK, well enjoy your second time through. Maybe I’ll do that sometime as well.