OCCUPIED COUNTRY

These Boots Were Made For Walking

Dearest has always had a problem acquiring footwear that fits. She reckons she has a broad foot. I reckon she's just scared of a little pain or, as Dearest calls it "searing pain". "Wear 'em in", I say "they'll be right as rain in a couple of days and you'll be able to walk round places like Venice photographing washing. Just like in the photograph on the left."

But no, it's not good enough. The shoes/boots/sandals/flip-flops have to be returned and Dearest, once again has to schlepp around in old shoes until she chances upon the next magical pair that she a)likes and b)receives no pain from.

This week she's surpassed herself. She bought a pair of high heels from some shop or other but after wearing them for while she realised the left one was bit tight. "They'll have to go back" she said. However a day or two later she sees the same pair in another shop and tries them on. The right is too tight but the left is perfect. So she buys them, brings them home and marries the right shoe from pair one with left shoe from pair two. Result. All she has to do now is take left shoe/pair one and right shoe/pair two back for a refund at shop one - or two. She's not made her mind up yet.

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Bloody hell Ken Russell's still reasonably alive and well and still desperately attempting to get financial backing for his celluloid ambitions. Failing that he's got a novel that's been rejected by publishers far and wide. 78 and still at it. Nice one Ken.

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Looks like an autumnal night in tonight. Copious amounts of vin rouge and a DVD or two. The question is what to watch? Lined up and ready to go are Death in Venice, Ladies in Lavender or The Madness of King George (free in today's Guardian). Mind you our time is our own, we could watch all three if we start early enough and take the shit machine out during the intervals. Couldn't we?