So after a week away from work, I joined the small gathering of people at Redland station for the 07:45 train this morning. Going to work at this time of year is always a bit strange, everyone is on half speed and can’t quite work out why they have gone back to work, when there is very little work to do.

I enjoyed the film last night, it’s certainly not the greatest film that Woody has ever made, but it did keep me amused. With the exception of Radio Days, which I really love, most of his “period” films are merely OK. Before Xmas we made a vague plan to go to the cinema a lot during our holiday, unfortunately the cinema screens in Bristol over the last week have been dominated by Harry Potter and The Two Towers, most of the other screens have been taken up with kids films, so we weren’t left with anything to go and see. It’s shame that all the interesting cinema’s (The Watershed, The Arnolfini, The Cube and The Orpheus) were closed for most of the Xmas period, meaning that we were left to suffer at the hands of the multiplex’s.

It’s strange but I did not get round to doing any reading during the break. So much of my reading time is linked to my working life. I normally read whilst I am on the train, and most lunchtime’s I go to the little café on platform 12 of Temple Meads station for a coffee and a piece of cake plus 45 min reading time. It’s almost as though work just gives me a space to find reading time. Anyway, the upshot of my lack of work last week was a complete lack of any reading. I have started to put that right this morning by working my way through the New Yorker double fiction issue which came out just before Xmas.