Inherited

10 Rillington Placewas this morning's film in Carl's Kino. Good stuff (one of those which prompts you to say "they don't make them like that any more"), with Richard Attenborough excellent but John Hurt rather unconvincing.

A nice brunch followed, along with some telly that I don't remember, and then the phone rang. It was Carl's cross-the-road neighbour, inviting us to an evening meal. The invite was unexpected, but welcome nonetheless, even though I'd been gearing myself up to going home. After last night's late night, a short siesta was definitely called for before heading across for more socialising.

We had a pleasant meal, accompanied afterwards by a bit of the snooker final from the Masters tournament (pretty dreadful standard, actually). Our host and a mate of his who kept up a non-stop commentary on the snooker were heading for the pub afterwards, but Carl and I chickened out and went back across the road for a relaxing episode of Ballykissangel before I said my farewells.

I almost, but not quite, forgot to bring with me this mug which Carl had got for Christmas but had no place for in his newly tidied kitchen. Just as well I remembered it, since a quick blip on the table when I got home was all the camera got used for today.