I told you so.

Ok, so it's really hard to tell, but that's the same little flowery plant from yesterday's post. Winter, oh, boy, does it bite!

But not all the pictures I took on my walk today were depressing. To whit:

The snow being held in branches and on leaves was quite lovely. Looks a bit like random lace, don't you think?

Oh, yeah, and PS: The second episode of season two (The Hounds of Baskerville) was by far much better than the first. Aside from the adorable jug ears of Russel Tovey (oh, why, why, why must he catch for the wrong team for me to play with? Those ears are adorable!), the story was, to me, more enjoyable.

But this makes sense, upon reflection, because the first episode (A Scandal in Belgravia) was written by Steven Moffat, whose writing I enjoy, but not as much as I love Mark Gatiss' ability with a story -- and guess who wrote THoB? Besides, while Sherlock was a...insert derogatory term for male genitalia here in both episodes, I felt that he was under better control in the second one. Or at least, less of a massive derogatory term for male genitalia.

Both episodes were witty, urbane and kept as close to canon as a story twisted around 180 degrees and sat down on the Wicked Witch of the East can be, but I just...I dunno. Perhaps it just comes down to writer's voice. I mean, Moffat's been writing Doctor Who for the majority of the past year, and I find my liking of his stories to be more hit or miss than the episodes written by Gatiss -- who has yet, in my experience, to write an episode that doesn't actively please me. Even the episode about the little boy with the closet and phobias -- which is almost universally reviled by the online Whovian community (at least the one in the corner of the intarwebz that is Ravelry) -- made me cry a little.

It's frightening to think I share issues with some random British person, but there you have it.

More frightening for him than for me, probably.