Brilliant Day

What a splendid day it has been.

We decided that we would do our school runs this  morning and then, as you might recall, do some more Things We Like To Do.

I cut out and pinned a new skirt, and Mark stuck some more tiles to the wall, and then in the afternoon we decided that instead of going to work we would go to the cinema.

I had been talking in a half-hearted way about going to see a film called San Andreas for weeks, more so because I have recently remembered that I have got cousins in America, and one of them knows lots about rocks and so obviously with a personal link like that it was perfectly obvious that I ought to go and see it, because then we will have a link in common if ever we actually meet up, although sadly this is unlikely because of the airfare, especially now since we have spent all our money at the cinema.

Of course if you are going to see a film like that then it ought to be in 3D, and when I looked on line this afternoon I discovered that there was only one final showing of it in 3D anywhere in the world, which was in Barrow this afternoon, and so Mark said we should be wild and reckless and just go: so we did.

This was an exciting thing to do, because we only had an hour from the point of discovering that it was on until the time that the film started, and it is almost an hour’s drive: so we immediately stopped tiling and sewing and jumped into the car. Mark drove really fast all the way to Barrow, which he is quite good at because he used to do rally driving, and by the time we got there we were both feeling quite exhilarated and rascally.

It was in the big Barrow cinema, which is absolutely brilliant, not at all like the Royalty in Bowness, which has got black and white tiled floors and a Wurlitzer organ and shows adverts for all the local shops so that you can quite often catch a glimpse of people you know on the screen: and the projector wobbles, all of which detracts a bit from any other-worldly air of enchantment and splendour you might feel that you would like when you go to the cinema. The cinema in Barrow is completely different, and has carpet and lots of screens and blue lights and enormous posters everywhere, and the desk where you buy your tickets sells some  really interesting sorts of popcorn, none of which I would ever have thought of making, so it was a good start because it made us appreciate the adventure of the whole thing

We hadn’t had any dinner, so in the end we bought a large bag of strawberry and caramel flavoured popcorn and some stuff with Tangy Cheese, which was all excellent, although it wasn’t very like either strawberries or cheese, and we had eaten all of it before the adverts finished anyway. As it happened we were the only people in the whole cinema, so we could choose where we wanted to sit and of course sat right in the middle: and were gripped the whole way through.

I won’t tell you anything too important about the film in case you haven’t seen it and want to, although I think that we were probably the last ever people to see it in 3D so if you feel inspired now you might have to watch the ordinary flat screen version. I absolutely love 3D cinema, it is one of the ace things about being alive at the moment and not in 1920: for films like the one we saw today it is beyond thrilling.

It was a completely ace film. In fact the plot was absolutely rubbish, but the special effects were so good that it didn’t matter in the least. We thought afterwards that we could quite cheerfully have sat there for two hours just watching the special effects, the story was only there to dream up occasions to fit them in anyway, as if somebody had computer generated an image of a boat sloshing into the Golden Gate Bridge and then afterwards thought of a story where they could use it.

I was delightedly transfixed the whole way through, and loved the crashing buildings and the narrow squeak helicopter escapes and brilliant shots of the ground wobbling about like a day at the seaside: and felt pleased and satisfied in the end, when all good Americans were proved to be brave and noble and family loving wholesome heroic sorts who would of course rebuild their great nation in the future. I hope that doesn’t spoil anything for anybody.

When we came out we took the dog for a long walk on the beach, which was a perfect thing to do after watching the forces of nature crushing the civilised world in their mighty grip: but fortunately on the beach at Roanhead the tide was out and the most spectacular natural phenomenon was a pile of stones and sand with a notice put next to it by the beach warden which explained that there was a dead whale underneath so please would we discourage our dog from digging it up. He wasn’t very interested in digging it up, but unfortunately he did wee on it, which we thought was less than respectful but since we couldn’t really explain to him sensibly we just walked on and hoped than none of its relatives were in the area watching.

It was a brilliant walk, and we picked up lots of especially pretty stones and shells, and Mark has promised to incorporate them into corners and things in the new tiling in the kitchen, which will be better than plastic diamonds because we will remember a nice time when we look at them.

When we got back we were still feeling idle and reckless and so we didn’t go to work, we ordered a takeaway for dinner, although we didn’t remember until we had done it that we didn’t have any money left and had to go down the back of the seats in the taxis until eventually we found enough: and now we are completely broke.

We don’t care. We have had a brilliant, brilliant day.