Walking and Falling

Is there anything quite so depressing as a Monday morning after a week off? The sky was grey, the air muggy and my inbox was creaking somewhat, but a reviving cup of coffee soon got me moving again. It was pretty quiet in the office too, with the consultancy team on a training day and my boss off on his holiday.

Last night's Lovefilm offering was 'Nowhere Boy' - a biopic of the life of the teenaged John Lennon as he struggled with his relationship with his absent mother and the aunt who had looked after him since he was a baby. It's a compelling little slice of history, particularly in the period details of Lennon's efforts to get a skiffle band going with his school mates and his first meeting with a very young Paul McCartney. As you might expect, the soundtrack was pretty good too with music from the time and an instrumental score by Goldfrapp. I'm not a huge Beatles fan, but I enjoyed this, even if Lennon himself came across as something of an egotistical twat at times.

In games news, I'm thoroughly enjoying Carcassonne and finding new tactics to play with. There is a certain amount of luck in the order that the tiles are uncovered, but as with all good games you can maximise your chances of getting something favourable by creating opportunities to place different combinations. Playing spoiler tiles to block off your opponents cities and cloisters is useful too, although I'm still not sure of the best approach to take with controlling fields. If there are lots of small cities that haven't been surrounded by roads then fields are a good bet, but you need to take an early gamble by sacrificing a meeple to claim territory without necessarily knowing how the map will develop. Also, I've only played two player games so far and I suspect that tactics with three or more will be very different.

Still, if anyone has the game and fancies a match then just send an invite to the usual email.

In being a twat news, I've had a nagging pain just under ribs all day. I'd just about convinced myself it was some sort of fatal death syndrome, probably involving the word 'thoracic', when Jan asked me if I could have done anything to bruise myself. After a moments reflection I remembered tripping over the corner of the bed in the dark last night and coming a cropper. Doh. How did I forget that?