A quiet weekend spent knitting and reading. Almost coming to the end of 'Frostquake'. Reading about Sylvia Plath at the moment. A question marks hangs over her suicide; was she waiting to be rescued and mistimed her unfortunate end. Did she through jealousy of Assia, Ted Hughes's mistress, make a grand gesture that failed. Love has a lot to answer for, in all the maelstrom of emotions. But it also struck me that the literary class make a great song and dance about their own lives.
What else? Macdonald and Dodds new series started off with a balloon ride, something very normal to Bath. You could take off on a Sunday if I remember rightly, they often started from Victoria Park but the wind had to be right.
I remember a balloon almost coming down in our village of Weston, which is tacked on to Bath. The balloon suddenly came down to low levels in our valley of gardens betwixt Weston Lane and Weston Park, it sailed along and people from the pub called did they want a pint. Luckily it gained height and seemed to brush past the spire of the church to gain the higher ridge of the Lansdown.
But to return to the series. It struck me that someone who directs or produces must love Bath, for it is almost caressed by photography, its Georgian structure strongly outlined by a drone photographing I presume. It should mark out the 'Mason's key' that Wood is supposed to have built. The round of The Circus, straight down Gay Street and then the square of Queen's Square.
They even had a funeral service in Bath Abbey (even God will sell his soul for the price of publicity!) It was all very beautiful and dignified. The plot was good, though I love finding the bits that don't add up and the story fluffs over them quickly.
Even spied Kelston Round Hill at one point from the balloon, and it reminded me of this rather beautiful video of remembering Sarah. Who died at the age of 17 from ashma whilst riding her horse along the path. Very nostalgic for me is this walk for I did it many times. And now time for coffee.