I was in Orkney earlier this week and took a few photos. It was lovely weather – warm, sunny and clear skies – and the flight up made up for the agony of not having a camera with me the last time I flew up.
I followed the trip up with a night in Aberdeen which allowed me to – among other things – pick up the ante-penultimate and penultimate episodes of Lost season 5 from Justin. The finale is this Sunday and all is set for an explosive climax to what has been an incredible series of the show. I am, at least figuratively, on the edge of my seat.
One of my achievements on my Orkney trip was finally finishing off Barack Obama‘s Dreams From My Father, which has been a major bottleneck in getting through my reading pile. If you’re a fan of Obama or want to discover something of the background of the man and his search for his identity, then you’ll find it fascinating.
For me, however, it was just dull. It took me some considerable time to get through – it’s long, rambling, and Obama slowly disappears up himself as the book goes on. It’s certainly reassuring to discover that our new world leader is an intelligent, coherent, compassionate and earnest individual, and it was a memoir after all so I can’t blame him for writing about himself. He is, however, an immensely dull writer who makes what is seemingly a very interesting life and background come over as equally dull as he is. I must remember not to invite him to my next dinner party for fear of being forced to listen to any of his earnest but self-absorbed reflections on himself.
Anyway. Enough ranting. Hurrah for the weekend.