Sinister: Toby, Alexander, Linnet

[Will Salt]

A lot happened this week.  There was a new single, woo-hoo!  And a TV 
show, woo-hoo!  And then I went and reread a favourite book of mine.  
But more of that later.

Last Monday morning, I got up early and went, first-thing, to my 
nearest record shop; and bought a copy of "I'm Waking Up To Us".  I 
have to say, I like it.  After all, before "I Love My Car", the best 
clarinet solo in a pop song was by Supertramp.  I'm sure, too, that 
many Sinister boys and girls went "Phwoar!" at the sight of Isobel in 
red leather.  Not to mention Stevie and his big friendly Dalmatian.

It's getting near Christmas now -- well, it's December at least -- so I 
wanted to do Christmassy things.  I remembered to get out my advent 
calendar and start opening the doors.  I hunted out my copy of the 
Jeepster christmas album from last year and put it on.  I put "Just 
Like Christmas" by Low on repeat -- as Idleberry said, it's definitely 
the best song on the album.  After the third play, my mad flatmate got 
herself out of bed (it was 11am) and came storming into the living room.

"TURN THIS SHIT OFF!" she shouted.  "I'M FED UP OF LISTENING TO IT!  
CAN'T YOU LISTEN TO SOMEONE WHOSE VOICE HAS BROKEN?"  This, of course, 
made me incredibly confused.  I was extremely tempted to say "OK, I'll 
put a different CD on," and switch to the Low album that has that track 
on it.  But she would probably have smashed the disc in anger.  Anyway, 
she can't talk.  She used to be a Hanson fan.

So, the single went into the charts at number 39.  Oh dear.  Never 
mind, though.  I'm sure when the flatmate finds out she will take the 
opportunity to trumpet how crap my favourite band must be, to only just 
brush the charts.

I wanted to do more Christmassy things.  There was a special section in 
the newspaper the other day, reviewing anything and everything to do 
with Christmas.  What movies to see.  What records to buy.  And what 
books to give to people.  It had a section on the ten best children's 
books ever written, and one of them was a book I read and loved myself 
many many years ago.  I remembered it being a beautiful lovely seasonal 
and christmassy book, so I hunted it down and reread it, and it was 
just as lovely as I had thought.  So I think you all should read it too.

It is about a small boy at boarding school, parents in Colonial 
service, who has to stay for christmas with his great-grandmother in a 
big, dark, ancient country house.  He asks her to tell him stories 
about the children whose portrait is hung above the roaring fireplace, 
and she tells him about the family who lived there in the seventeeth 
century, three children who never grew old, and who still live there.  
He is desperate to know and see them himself, and disappointed that 
they hide; but eventually, little-by-little, they show themselves to 
him too.

Back in the 1980s, it was filmed by the BBC and shown on the telly.  It 
was good, but BBC-style man-in-rubber-suit special effects couldn't do 
justice to some parts of it, like an image of a small girl stood 
looking out of her window on Christmas night, watching a statue of St. 
Christopher come alive and carry the Christ Child through a frozen 
river to pray at Midnight Mass, the ice cracking and crazing around his 
stone body.

i don't know if it's just me, but I always fall for beautiful ghost 
stories.  Not the ones with dark creatures from beyond the grave 
forcing their innocent victims to blah blah wibble blah, but the ones 
about ordinary people with ordinary, beautiful lives, who just happen 
to be dead.  I'm not sure why I find them so touching, but I do.  That 
book ws a beautiful book, and thinking about it gives me a pale smile 
and soft eyes.  It is as christmassy as plum pudding, clementines and 
fruit peel.  Go and read it.  Go and read "The Children of Green Knowe" 
by Lucy M. Boston.









xx


















-- 
Will Salt
ICQ 66321009
http://www.btinternet.com/~wpsalt/
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