So 'Touching the Void' was okay . . . I think I was expecting more excitement, edge-of-the-seat stylee, but the film was far more concerned with telling the story, plain and simple, as it happened, you know? But it was good, nonetheless.

Anyway, it's the middle of the afternoon, and I'm at home, having just seen the plumber out. If I was to say his cup of tea was barely one third consumed, that should send alarm bells ringing. Mr. Finister lifted up a patch of carpet, pulled up a few floorboards and (this all took about five minutes), letting a handful of bone-dry saw-dust fall through his fingers, declared that there was nothing wrong with the boiler, nothing wrong with the pipes going in and out, and that the problem must be the bit of roof above the bay window. And, yes, looking at the patch on my front room ceiling, that makes perfect sense. So I was like, "But the pipes, man, don't the pipes go that way? Don't they?" but . . . no, the pipes don't do that, and the plumber patiently explained the path of the three/four pipes (I forget now) going in/out of the boiler. Damnit. So I guess I need a roofer. Anyway, back to work . . .