I'm on holiday. I have spent most of today sitting in the sun in my garden reading a novel. It is a reward for yesterday's activities which were physical. I had to repair a water-damaged ceiling and paint it. Then I had to sand down and repaint an upright on our porch. A break from being hunched over a keyboard being spent on physical activity was welcome. Today I have been lost in the nineteenth century British army fighting smugglers, Luddites and American Indians, as they used to be called. But I shall save my thoughts on Alan Mallinson until I have completed the two books I am reading back-to-back.
There is an interesting paper on familial CLL in the most recent Blood to arrive. It implicated the ATM-CHK2-BRCA2 pathway, which I have mentioned before.
The weather now is very pleasant. Warm and sunny without the oppressive heat of last week; this is about perfect.
I am slowly working my way through the BBC Sherlock Holmes starring Jeremy Brett (remember him from My Fair Lady?) and Edward Hardwicke. The sense of period is delightful, and Brett plays the part like a dancer; studied mannerisms and delicate footsteps.
I have a terribly guilty feeling that I ought to be doing something.