Last visit

I’d been in this place quite a few times over the years but most of the photos I’d taken hadn’t made it to blip. So, after throwing open the curtains and raising the blinds we picked up some items of sentimental value, like the little hedgehog my mum had bought and which had kept him company through his various moves. We found Mena’s cap which she wants down the side of his sofa. And things I’d forgotten – a polaroid snap he’d taken back in 2018 when he was playing around with an old camera (I bought him a pack of blanks). The New American Ghetto, when he was obsessed by such things, and which I’d sent off to some bookshop in America to obtain. And a Christmas Card from ourselves last December. Let’s hope 2025 is a good one, I wrote. I remember at the time wondering what the year would bring for him. And for all of us.

 
I took G home via the housing office to drop off the keys, and the local library to drop off two of his books. And once home, washed and headed out with the SK – this time without a jacket. Another warm day. My first visit to the Filmhouse since its reopening, to see Riefenstahl. Loads of squirming footage of her in interviews in the 60s and 70s saying it was just her job to make “those” films. Couldn’t she just have said, yep, I was a Nazi and was swept up in it like so many of her compadres? Apparently not.  
But dear oh dear, the new Filmhouse seats in screen three are in straight rows. Err the big guy in front of me meant I couldn’t read the subtitles. And the Filmhouse is big on subtitled films dontcha know. 
I wonder what else I can complain about? Normal service may be resumed shortly.