Well! *insert autumnal cliché here*

My cultural runnings were AWOL last week as *insert seasonal cold cliché here* but anyway, I’m back, fresh from watching Arsenal score seven goals against Slavia Prague last night. Or rather six goals as I got there a bit late, I’m ashamed to say. I suspect the Prague fans were as delighted to see those goals as they are to see vast numbers of English people on stag weekends descend upon their city every Friday. That said, when my erudite colleague Jamie got married this year we went to Prague and were extremely civilised. Or at least I was, dragging my terribly hungover self around an art gallery on the Sunday morning. It was nice and cold and quiet in there, though being admitted to the gallery was an appropriately rather Kafka-esq experience, especially when I was feeling a bit confused already.

Talking of museums on a Sunday, Sunday afternoon found me at the Tate Britain, where I had a rather speedy look around the Millais exhibition, which opened a couple of weeks ago. Wasn’t so keen on the last couple of rooms of portraits and landscapes, but the first few rooms - amazing. My wise and patient father works at the Tate and he pointed out how wonderful some of the preparatory sketches are and in particular, how modern they look. He’s right.

As chance would have it, the old copy of John Fowles’ ‘the Ebony Tower’ I’m currently reading has a Millais painting on the cover. I’m quite the fan of Mr Fowles though I think ‘the Ebony Tower’ is perhaps the time where his shoe-horning in of a ‘big’ subject - in this case visual art - is most apparent, though this isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Goodness me, I’ve got to head off to my opticians on Befnal Gween Road now so that’s it for this week. This also enables me to leave with a joke:

“I went to the opticians today and guess who I bumped into?!”

“Everybody!”

*kaboom tish*