I have a bad habit when I go for a walk- it’s the tendency to go “Hey- let’s go in that direction and see where we end up!”, and thus go on an insane detour that might include plenty of scenery, but doesn’t always get me to where I want to be. Today’s detour on a walk through the countryside surrounding the village of Chawton (home of Jane Austen, fact fans) had its fun moments, but also involved a little too much vaulting over gates, clambering under barbed wire, and wandering through sinister woodland glades. At various points, I felt like I was somewhere in the first 200 pages of Lord of the Rings, and if I’d seen a Black Rider, it really wouldn’t have shocked me.

Anyhow, I’m back, having also run George to tonight’s babysitting duties, and in the run-up to the first of Season 4 of Doctor Who, which I’m approaching in a calm state of mind. I’m not expecting anything major – I’m looking forward to the Moffatt two-parter, and I’m curious to see if they can make the rumoured epic showdown at the end of the season actually work this time. It’s not my Doctor Who anymore – but S3 managed some genuinely stunning moments that made sifting through the less-than-good stuff worthwhile, and as a fan of longform SF TV, I can’t really refuse to watch it. It won’t change my life, and I doubt if it’ll completely change my mind on Catherine Tate (although I am, at least for now, going to try and give her the benefit of the doubt- let’s see how long that lasts…), but I’ll try tonight and see how it goes. If I need to skip out for a few weeks and then back for the Moffett two parter, then so be it. Only time will tell…