Edith Margaret Garrud

I've been steadily re-watching my way through New Who for two or three months now, starting with Rose, and today (late yesterday, rather - it's tomorrow now) I reached Vincent and the Doctor, which has always been a personal favourite of mine. I laugh, I cry, I think deep thoughts about life and death and sunflowers. Eleven's words to Amy near the end break me every time:

"The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don't always soften the bad things. But, vice versa - the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things or make them unimportant."

Once, a long time ago - years, though how many I know not - I came across a book in a library, entitled A Sundial in a Grave. I don't remember if I read it and liked it, or read it and disliked it, or if I did not read it at all. But that title has just come back to me, and I think that I shall have to find that book again, just for the dark poetry of that title.



"Do you always trust your first initial feeling / Special knowledge, holds true bears believing / I turned around and the water was closing all around / Like a glove, like the love that had finally, finally found me..."