I have been struggling with one of my literary ideas, and last night, I began to write something else - this morning I have 8,000 words of an entirely new novel with 3 main characters - a grandmother, her son, and her daughter's son, and the enigmatic Mr Shuffrey. It is really exciting and perplexing - I am thrilled, but have so much else to do. I don't know what to do. More detail, I expect on the Only Writing blog - when I have time to update it.
Reading while dead
Thursday 28 June 2012
Tuesday 26 June 2012
A theological dream with literary overtones
I dreamed I was having an argument about belief with my father. We were at some sort of Christian conference, and I wanted to leave. I was younger, but I had my own car. The argument took place in public, with a lot of other people - of an evangelical fundamentalist persuasion - there. My father was particularly upset because I told him that a certain book of the Bible (a made up one) which he particularly liked, was my least favourite - because it was narrow. In the end he was so upset he threatened me with something. I decided I had to leave home. I began to pack the car with my things - some of the evangelical men tried to block my way with a large amplifier speaker... in the end I just walked around it - but I was trying to run away with no money and just sneaking in and out to the car to get my clothes etc. without any of my family seeing me. The speaker also belonged to me, and I had to drag it to the car (it was actually our current car, the VW Sharan)
I think this is something to do with the book. The amplifier is about taking a bit of family story outside the house - broadcasting it to a larger group. This isn't the way my father would behave - but it is true he keeps insisting that I should believe what he believes and lecturing me on what he believes. This is something I don't think I'm guilty of. Yesterday I was telling M about my fears that Coellie was reading the book and disapproving of it... so that's obviously where some of this came from.
I think this is something to do with the book. The amplifier is about taking a bit of family story outside the house - broadcasting it to a larger group. This isn't the way my father would behave - but it is true he keeps insisting that I should believe what he believes and lecturing me on what he believes. This is something I don't think I'm guilty of. Yesterday I was telling M about my fears that Coellie was reading the book and disapproving of it... so that's obviously where some of this came from.
Monday 25 June 2012
Benefits of dieting
I am trying not to worry too much about it - I have managed to stay within the limits this week - so I am pleased, and do some activity mostly gardening.
The rewards to date are as follows:
My knees are happier,
I am more energetic,
I am less grumpy
I am more flexible,
I have lost weight, but more importantly I feel thinner and more in control, without obsessing about it.
My muscles are aching from exercise (walking up stairs and hills at Dover Castle)
I am not tiring from walking etc. so quickly.
I am no longer thinking "I must start a diet".
Much as I find the WW organisation terrible, I find the weekly weigh-in immensely helpful - and not weighing myself at home is good too. There is a benefit in being part of a group. I don't think it is full of potential soul mates, but solidarity is a good thing, I must learn to accept praise and enthusiasm for my success.
The rewards to date are as follows:
My knees are happier,
I am more energetic,
I am less grumpy
I am more flexible,
I have lost weight, but more importantly I feel thinner and more in control, without obsessing about it.
My muscles are aching from exercise (walking up stairs and hills at Dover Castle)
I am not tiring from walking etc. so quickly.
I am no longer thinking "I must start a diet".
Much as I find the WW organisation terrible, I find the weekly weigh-in immensely helpful - and not weighing myself at home is good too. There is a benefit in being part of a group. I don't think it is full of potential soul mates, but solidarity is a good thing, I must learn to accept praise and enthusiasm for my success.
Sunday to the rescue....
We had - I cannot believe I am writing these words - a really nice day on Sunday. All the stress dissolved once Artem arrived. I went downstairs and prepared breakfast - Artem and his friend Phillip went out for a walk, they came back at 12.30. In the meantime I had made bread, sticky sausages, a coconut cake and a stew for supper. I had also prepared and packed a picnic. We took Gina back to her house, then drove to Richborough, we rejoined English Heritage (it was cheaper than buying tickets) and had a picnic in the middle of the 2,000 year old walls. I love Richborough - I think I just ought to go up there and think and write (useful picnic table)... and look at the rabbits and the butterflies. We ate our picnic (cold chicken, sticky sausages, meatballs,crisps, baguettes, salad, houmous etc.) and then it began to rain. We packed everything away and escaped back to the car...
We then drove to Dover - the rain stopped, the sun came out and we wandered around Dover Castle - mostly looking at the keep, the boys went up to the tower - there was a fascinating medieval map (replica) of the world - with Delos at the centre! Jerusalem slightly to the north - no sign of Russia - unless it was the area called Hyrcania... (Ireland was illustrated by a naked man with a club - the shillelagh has a long tradition). Then the boys went down the medieval tunnels - and finally we walked around the battlements back to the car. A really successful outing, I especially enjoyed the flowers and the wildlife.
Then we came home - I unpacked the picnic, washed up, tidied away, dealt with washing and made supper. Then M kindly drove me around to Alex - so I could avoid the English humiliation at the penalty shoot out stage. Maybe it was better than being beaten by Germany on Thursday.
I sat in the garden with Alex, Paul and Keith and discussed divers matters, until Paul left, by which time copious amounts of drink had been drunk and Alex raised the issue of 50 shades of Grey and asserted that it showed that women were really interested in BDSM and why did I think this was? Arrrrrrggggggghhhhh.... perhaps this is worth another entry - it's a ticklish topic which PC Keith and I attempted to discuss without reference to any personal experience. So we didn't get very far...Mark then appeared and brought the conversation back to "sacred geometry" (or "Bollocks!" as M calls it). I had made two gins last a very very long time, curiously, I speeded up my drinking when M arrived. Quid significat? Then I said I was cold and needed to go home and dress my insect bites.
We then drove to Dover - the rain stopped, the sun came out and we wandered around Dover Castle - mostly looking at the keep, the boys went up to the tower - there was a fascinating medieval map (replica) of the world - with Delos at the centre! Jerusalem slightly to the north - no sign of Russia - unless it was the area called Hyrcania... (Ireland was illustrated by a naked man with a club - the shillelagh has a long tradition). Then the boys went down the medieval tunnels - and finally we walked around the battlements back to the car. A really successful outing, I especially enjoyed the flowers and the wildlife.
Then we came home - I unpacked the picnic, washed up, tidied away, dealt with washing and made supper. Then M kindly drove me around to Alex - so I could avoid the English humiliation at the penalty shoot out stage. Maybe it was better than being beaten by Germany on Thursday.
I sat in the garden with Alex, Paul and Keith and discussed divers matters, until Paul left, by which time copious amounts of drink had been drunk and Alex raised the issue of 50 shades of Grey and asserted that it showed that women were really interested in BDSM and why did I think this was? Arrrrrrggggggghhhhh.... perhaps this is worth another entry - it's a ticklish topic which PC Keith and I attempted to discuss without reference to any personal experience. So we didn't get very far...Mark then appeared and brought the conversation back to "sacred geometry" (or "Bollocks!" as M calls it). I had made two gins last a very very long time, curiously, I speeded up my drinking when M arrived. Quid significat? Then I said I was cold and needed to go home and dress my insect bites.
Compost heap
Ever since we started our compost heap, 9 years ago, we've managed to produce lumpy but usable compost - of a reasonable, if slightly wet consistency. This year, our heap is seeping liquid, and because the ground is so wet, it isn't being absorbed - instead we have a nasty smelly, small pool of muck, seething with maggots. It is revolting. I am going to put lots of paper and cardboard down to absorb it and put more paper in the bin so that I can absorb it a bit.
I am really annoyed, but I have been working on and around it all morning, and am covered with revolting guck - off to have a bath shortly. I've been doing other things in the garden too - planting up plug petunias, splitting the iris siberica and weeding. The garden is so lovely - at the moment there is a huge cluster of compassion roses, lowering above the Albertine - they are similar colours, not ideal, but really fantastic.
I do hope I have some time in the autumn to dig places up and thin stuff out - otherwise next year the garden will over flow.
I am really annoyed, but I have been working on and around it all morning, and am covered with revolting guck - off to have a bath shortly. I've been doing other things in the garden too - planting up plug petunias, splitting the iris siberica and weeding. The garden is so lovely - at the moment there is a huge cluster of compassion roses, lowering above the Albertine - they are similar colours, not ideal, but really fantastic.
I do hope I have some time in the autumn to dig places up and thin stuff out - otherwise next year the garden will over flow.
Saturday 23 June 2012
Mild gloom as the neurotic weekend
...continues. I wish I loved Mark more - but I've learned in the last 3-4 years that one can't make oneself - actually, if we went to marriage guidance, they would probably set us exercises or something... but I guess neither of us thinks it's a sufficient priority - or he's waiting for me to do something about it, which is part of the problem - his lack of initiative, which makes me feel I have to do all the work... so spending the weekend has become a bit of trial if we don;t have anything special to do. Today we have been prepping for the arrival of our new student Artem - so he's worked v. hard, and I feel ungrateful.
The last drink of summer...
For the next two months, but particularly in July - we will have a constant stream of foreign students, which is good financially - but it means we can't go out much. So last night I thought I'd like to go and sit somewhere looking over the sea and watching the sunset. Because I'd been over to Westgate and seen a beautiful sunset on Thursday I thought we would go there - and drink at the Minnis. Finn, Mark and I set off, and we were accompanied by a large cloud.
Although the Minnis represents itself as a gastro pub, it looked remarkably like a normal pub: the lettering on the boards was particularly unattractive. But we only wanted a drink... it was noisy inside - large parties of families having drinks and crisps, so we decided to sit outside - in the teeth of a howling gale. Finn of course had not got a fleece, I was wearing a thin shirt and a cardigan, M had a t-shirt and cotton jacket. We sat there bravely, watching the sky rain onto Herne Bay - and drinking up rapidly when the first drops hit us. We reached the car as it started in earnest.
As soon as we drove south the skies cleared and Ramsgate was bathed in sunlight. I wondered if we should have gone to Pegwell Bay instead - so we drove there - hoping to sit on the terrace. We got out of the car and were knocked over by the wind. We got back into the car and drove home.
I was disappointed by the Minnis - my white wine and soda tasted like cider, Finn asked for Coke, but got Pepsi - it was cheap though.
Sad how one's fantasies are disappointed, even a small one like enjoying a drink, a seaview and a sunset. But even if the weather conditions had been perfect, I might have found it a bit sad. I seem to be so out of sync with Mark these days. When we were driving over, I was enjoying the countryside - such as it is - and the evening light - and he was talking about monastic geometry. I suppose I am lucky to have had such a good education in Gothic architecture - but sometimes I wish we were a little more engaged in the same things. So, perhaps what I have learned is not to fall in love with someone's intellectual interests - their personality - their sympathies are more important. On the whole his sympathies are aligned with mind, but the pessimism and the negativity grind me down. Sometimes I respond inappropriately, irritably to things he says - I wish I didn't. It is simply boredom, I expect I'd feel the same about anyone I'd been with for 20 years, it's not his fault. Yesterday he was talking about his mother, and her snobbery and lack of interest in certain topics. It is a cruel trait - but he has inherited it to some extent. It is good that he was so shocked by her behaviour (I may have said elsewhere that her motto is "Oh, that'll do" when it comes to making an effort). He said she had made a nice meal for his Uncle J and cousin Patrick - I was about to say "What form of sausage did it involve?" when he added "sausage and mash and a salad". She'd clearly pulled all the stops out. But yes, she is 86 - on the other hand the shops are full of nice things one can buy - smoked salmon, etc. which she could well afford. Oh dear, perhaps I should make more allowance for her age - but she's never been that bothered about food - and she's never been one to put herself out.
Oh dear, that's enough moaning. I am feeling a little unhappy when I think about this. I started feeling unhappy when he started talking about architecture last night - a sort of misery came over me. He is so engaged with his work - and I have become increasingly obsessed with mine - but I have to live in the other world as well, I can't just start spouting about the writing - and I don't always want to, I like to internalise and think about it. But the feeling of misery...it was very familiar, I just felt the real consciousness of the lack of compatibility between us. Where did it go? Is it my fault?
Finn did an on-line compatibility quiz for us - we got 75% apparently - so we are likely to stay together. Hmmm. We are, but probably not because of compatibility.
Although the Minnis represents itself as a gastro pub, it looked remarkably like a normal pub: the lettering on the boards was particularly unattractive. But we only wanted a drink... it was noisy inside - large parties of families having drinks and crisps, so we decided to sit outside - in the teeth of a howling gale. Finn of course had not got a fleece, I was wearing a thin shirt and a cardigan, M had a t-shirt and cotton jacket. We sat there bravely, watching the sky rain onto Herne Bay - and drinking up rapidly when the first drops hit us. We reached the car as it started in earnest.
As soon as we drove south the skies cleared and Ramsgate was bathed in sunlight. I wondered if we should have gone to Pegwell Bay instead - so we drove there - hoping to sit on the terrace. We got out of the car and were knocked over by the wind. We got back into the car and drove home.
I was disappointed by the Minnis - my white wine and soda tasted like cider, Finn asked for Coke, but got Pepsi - it was cheap though.
Sad how one's fantasies are disappointed, even a small one like enjoying a drink, a seaview and a sunset. But even if the weather conditions had been perfect, I might have found it a bit sad. I seem to be so out of sync with Mark these days. When we were driving over, I was enjoying the countryside - such as it is - and the evening light - and he was talking about monastic geometry. I suppose I am lucky to have had such a good education in Gothic architecture - but sometimes I wish we were a little more engaged in the same things. So, perhaps what I have learned is not to fall in love with someone's intellectual interests - their personality - their sympathies are more important. On the whole his sympathies are aligned with mind, but the pessimism and the negativity grind me down. Sometimes I respond inappropriately, irritably to things he says - I wish I didn't. It is simply boredom, I expect I'd feel the same about anyone I'd been with for 20 years, it's not his fault. Yesterday he was talking about his mother, and her snobbery and lack of interest in certain topics. It is a cruel trait - but he has inherited it to some extent. It is good that he was so shocked by her behaviour (I may have said elsewhere that her motto is "Oh, that'll do" when it comes to making an effort). He said she had made a nice meal for his Uncle J and cousin Patrick - I was about to say "What form of sausage did it involve?" when he added "sausage and mash and a salad". She'd clearly pulled all the stops out. But yes, she is 86 - on the other hand the shops are full of nice things one can buy - smoked salmon, etc. which she could well afford. Oh dear, perhaps I should make more allowance for her age - but she's never been that bothered about food - and she's never been one to put herself out.
Oh dear, that's enough moaning. I am feeling a little unhappy when I think about this. I started feeling unhappy when he started talking about architecture last night - a sort of misery came over me. He is so engaged with his work - and I have become increasingly obsessed with mine - but I have to live in the other world as well, I can't just start spouting about the writing - and I don't always want to, I like to internalise and think about it. But the feeling of misery...it was very familiar, I just felt the real consciousness of the lack of compatibility between us. Where did it go? Is it my fault?
Finn did an on-line compatibility quiz for us - we got 75% apparently - so we are likely to stay together. Hmmm. We are, but probably not because of compatibility.
Friday 22 June 2012
Food! And being boring about dieting.
I have been really hungry in the last two days. Yesterday was unbearable - I ate a lot of vegs - but it somehow didn't do it. I am determined to stay comfortably below my daily limit, and to try not to use the extrapoints. I'm sure that's why I lost so much weight last week, obviously I won't lose anything like that this week, but if I could lose 4lbs I would be so chuffed - then I'd be out of the zone where I don't feel it's really my weight.
I have to say that I am already feeling better - my knees are less grumpy without that extra stone, and I am definitely more active - although not wildly so, but needing fewer rests. I think I ought to try and eat some cheese every day - because it is such a deeply satisfying food. It is a blessing that my love of cheese is married to low cholesterol levels. The fridge is absolutely full of fromage at the moment. I must practice cutting pieces of 40g to see how much it it.
There are 49 bonus points each week. They say "You can eat these points and still lose weight" - but presumably not enough weight. I know when I've been doing the diet for a few weeks I am likely to say "Fuck this for a game of soldiers" and throw it all up in the air. But I am really going to try not to. This means trying to see how relatively little I can eat, rather than how much I can get away with. No one is making me do this, I am in charge. I haven't drunk much - about a glass this week - and maybe staying off the booze would be a good thing. Just a small amount has made me feel very under-performing... woozy. But I would like to go out tonight - have a glass of wine and some nuts or crisps... I suppose I can. As usual, despite my suggestion, Mark hasn't responded. I can't stand this - it makes me feel like going out on my own. Unfortunately, my going out companion has retreated to London, and I have yet to find a new one...
I have to say that I am already feeling better - my knees are less grumpy without that extra stone, and I am definitely more active - although not wildly so, but needing fewer rests. I think I ought to try and eat some cheese every day - because it is such a deeply satisfying food. It is a blessing that my love of cheese is married to low cholesterol levels. The fridge is absolutely full of fromage at the moment. I must practice cutting pieces of 40g to see how much it it.
There are 49 bonus points each week. They say "You can eat these points and still lose weight" - but presumably not enough weight. I know when I've been doing the diet for a few weeks I am likely to say "Fuck this for a game of soldiers" and throw it all up in the air. But I am really going to try not to. This means trying to see how relatively little I can eat, rather than how much I can get away with. No one is making me do this, I am in charge. I haven't drunk much - about a glass this week - and maybe staying off the booze would be a good thing. Just a small amount has made me feel very under-performing... woozy. But I would like to go out tonight - have a glass of wine and some nuts or crisps... I suppose I can. As usual, despite my suggestion, Mark hasn't responded. I can't stand this - it makes me feel like going out on my own. Unfortunately, my going out companion has retreated to London, and I have yet to find a new one...
Wednesday 20 June 2012
Julian Assange....
I think people on the left are pretty outraged by him - they thought he was some sort of libertarian hero - freedom of info. is a sacred tenet of the left (the media bit that I don't belong to). I didn't like the sound of some of the information he was making available, because it endangered people - and when I saw him on the telly I thought there was something odd about him. I had a sharp exchange of words with a local acquaintance when the sexual assault charges came up: she insisted it was a put up job, but having formed my opinion from his appearance, speech and body language I felt he was someone who was solipsistic to the extent of perhaps being aspergic and had poor judgement about many things - this would include noticing whether a woman was saying "no" or not.
He has now taken refuge in the Ecuadorean embassy - perhaps because it doesn't have an extradition treaty with Sweden - I don't want him dragged off by the US, all I want is for him to go away, and understand that perhaps he isn't suited for public life, doesn't have the self-control, sense and judgement to make a success of it. As I said, the meejah now all hate him, because he's made them look like prats for following him and praising him - especially the Guardian. The guy gives off a bad vibe - if the journos didn't notice it, then perhaps the wrong people are journos - alternatively, we must assume they decided to ignore it in pursuit of a story - well, we've all ignored the inconvenient facts in pursuit of a story - whether literary or journalistic.
He has now taken refuge in the Ecuadorean embassy - perhaps because it doesn't have an extradition treaty with Sweden - I don't want him dragged off by the US, all I want is for him to go away, and understand that perhaps he isn't suited for public life, doesn't have the self-control, sense and judgement to make a success of it. As I said, the meejah now all hate him, because he's made them look like prats for following him and praising him - especially the Guardian. The guy gives off a bad vibe - if the journos didn't notice it, then perhaps the wrong people are journos - alternatively, we must assume they decided to ignore it in pursuit of a story - well, we've all ignored the inconvenient facts in pursuit of a story - whether literary or journalistic.
Tuesday 19 June 2012
A journey of a 1,000 miles...
begins with a single step. Since I joined the dreaded Weight Watchers last week, I have tried (and succeeded) not to obsess about food - eat when necessary - and work as necessary. So, despite having had a Bacchanalian day of food (tu exageres!) on Saturday - and a somewhat mindless day of sandwich eating on Sunday (at the great Montefiore bunfight) I managed to lose an absolutely glorious 12lbs - which is quite simply the most astounding result... I am hoping that this diet won't be sabotaged by hormones, water retention and fluctuations of that nature - and that I might actually manage to steadily lose weight. We shall see. I am prejudiced against WW because it seems to be a bit too generous with "sweeties" but since one can eat all the fruit one wants, am really pleased with it. I have brought some fake sugar to use instead on strawbs and fruit salad. So I am hoping I can lose at least another 3-4lb next week. I promise not to bore on about this diet in the blog - but then again, can't help feeling pleased. I was hoping to have lost 2 stone by the end of August - at this rate, it could feasibly be 3...which would get me roughly back to where I was at the time of my mother's funeral. Then again, our scales have always been a bit generous - so probably a bit less than that. Heigh-ho! Well, I shouldn't feel so regretful - and there's no need to start making plans, that's what usually causes trouble - the regret one feels when the plans don't turn out.
Obviously, I can't maintain this sort of rate of loss - but do hope to not completely crawl down to 1lb a week or less - yes, I know it's healthier to lose slowly, but it can also be dispiriting.
I felt a bit guilty about losing so much weight in the first week - but on the other hand, I was really, really good, so perhaps I deserved it. I was just a bit embarassed - didn't want to show off. I also won £4 in a raffle - so that's good too. Perhaps Jupiter in the 8th house will be a supportive thing!
Obviously, I can't maintain this sort of rate of loss - but do hope to not completely crawl down to 1lb a week or less - yes, I know it's healthier to lose slowly, but it can also be dispiriting.
I felt a bit guilty about losing so much weight in the first week - but on the other hand, I was really, really good, so perhaps I deserved it. I was just a bit embarassed - didn't want to show off. I also won £4 in a raffle - so that's good too. Perhaps Jupiter in the 8th house will be a supportive thing!
Monday 18 June 2012
A slow start...
Monday - after a really nice weekend - and I was hoping to leap into action and hurl myself into some housework like the legendary "white tornado" of 1960s advertising. However, the grey tornado has subsided after the first 40 minutes and is now taking some R&R.
The garden is marvellous - it has rained, and it is still, and the air is laden with scent - rose, honeysuckle, jasmine... marvellous. The ground is littered with snails - and I noticed another plant had received a going over from them, just before flowering, a really nice red achillea. I have to be ruthless about the snails now - otherwise they will breed and I will have even more next year.
I will work today - eventually.
The garden is marvellous - it has rained, and it is still, and the air is laden with scent - rose, honeysuckle, jasmine... marvellous. The ground is littered with snails - and I noticed another plant had received a going over from them, just before flowering, a really nice red achillea. I have to be ruthless about the snails now - otherwise they will breed and I will have even more next year.
I will work today - eventually.
Sunday 17 June 2012
La douce France...
Yesterday, despite all the financial woe, and the fact that we shouldn't have, but because we aren't going on holiday this year, we had a day trip to France. It was sort of Ned's 18th birthday treat (he didn't have a party) and Finn was desperate to go.
We took the Chunnel for once - which was only mildly unpleasant, and of course ludicrously quick, especially on the way back. It was a lovely day - windy, but very sunny. We started intending to go to the Dover Patrol monument at Cap Blanc Nez - but we were ravenous - so I suggested we went to a cafe in the next village Echelles - only there was no cafe! Nor a boulangerie - than I remembered that there was a fantastic cafe with views right on the sea at Cap Gris Nez - so we drove there - to find the cafe had become a restaurant, and was naturally closed - so we ended up going to Ardreselles - where there was a row of cafes - and sat in the sun at their tea room and ate croque monsieur, croisants and a fab thing called sandwich campagnard which is a small half baguette covered with melted cheese and ham - nicer than the mass produced croque that Ned and I opted for. Then we walked down to the sea - which was incredibly wild - we could hear it roaring outside the cafe at the end of the street. There is a beach there - but it was very rocky - so we climbed about a bit (I was, as usual when offered something new and interesting) more energetic than usual. Then we drove down the coast road to Ambleteuse, Wimereux and finally arrived in a big Boulonnais traffic jam. We ground up the hill to the ville fortifiee and parked in the Place Mariette - admired the topiary pyramid of lonicera nitida, and the statue of Mariette Pacha in his fez and the modal of the solar barque from the pyramid of Cheops. Then we went up into the citadel, looked at restaurants, got to the chateau musee and found it was closing in 35 minutes, so we went to the cathedral (which was closing in 5 mins) and sat there and admired the perfect classical lines, constructed on top of the medieval cruciform foundation. It was lovely - very calming and cool.
We returned to the commercial world, found a restaurant which enthused Ned (confit de canard does that) and booked a table - then back up the road to get some cash - and then lunch. We went to La Grillade in Rue de Lille. It basically does grills, I had salmon en papillotte - which was nice - Finn had steak - small, over cooked even for him, and Mark had andouiletee (yeurrgh) - the frites were average (of British, rather than French standard)...the starters were nice - the males all had salade montbeliard - which was smoked sausage, fried potatoes, on a bed of lettuce with a nice balsamic dressing. I had two fishy rillettes - the tuna version was a bit dry - the salmon one was nice. It was an OK meal - nothing to write home about, maybe I should have had a steak. My cheese was right out of the fridge - a bit too firm for my liking. With a bottle of house rose, an extra glass of wine, it came to E116 Euros... less than £100 - but still no longer uber cheap. The great thing was that we had a really cheerful meal together - the boys all had starters! and Ned ate his lettuce.
After lunch we began to flag a bit - but went around the museum - I forgot they had such a good collection of Greek vases - actually, most of them are Apulian - but there are one or two really good ones - Ajax preparing to kill himself, and Heracles and the Stymphalian birds. Then we walked around the ramparts to get back to the car - it was lovely - fantastic views of the sea, the town (mostly ugly) and green and leafy - witih benches. No quite up to the standards of the ramparts at Lucca - but a good place for a stroll - a higher level park.
Grumpiness inevitably began to set in - M was tired and became increasingly erratic, I had drink taken, and had blisters on my feet from my sandals, so was more irritable than usual. We went to Nausicaa - at vast expense (E55) - but I was too knackered to "do" it. We agreed that M & I should have gone to the beach and let the boys do it on their own. But it was meant to be a nice family day together - so we had water in the bar (we ran out of cash, because M paid for Nausicaa with our cash, rather than card) and watched the tropical pools - we went down, saw the tropical pools from below - and then spent a happy time watching the sea lions.... then, just before closing time we went to see the Cape Penguins... so a jolly day. Then we went to the Supermarket - Auchan, in the centre commercial to the N of Boulogne. It is huge. I insisted we were not going to buy 100s of things - but we still spent £150 without any spirits or anything - we did buy about 18 bottles of wine - but since some of those were only about E2.59 a bottle (rose) hardly extravagant. I did buy a bottle of pink Sancerre. By the end of that we were knackerd and had about an hour before we were due to go to the Chunnel... Ned began to lament (having been brilliant all day) that we had not been to the monument, so I suggested we had a trip there and picniced and took the next train. But he was happy just to go there and then eat in the car... so we went back to Cap Blanc Nez - by this time the wind was appalling - so I stayed in the car. We got back to the Chunnel with minutes to spare... got our train.
It was a lovely day - in the morning especially when we were just driving along the coast road and stopping here and there. I thought perhaps next time we should just go to Audreselles, go to the beach, have Moules frites for lunch E10 and perhaps go and see 1 thing.... alternatively, if we had the money, spend a night there.
We took the Chunnel for once - which was only mildly unpleasant, and of course ludicrously quick, especially on the way back. It was a lovely day - windy, but very sunny. We started intending to go to the Dover Patrol monument at Cap Blanc Nez - but we were ravenous - so I suggested we went to a cafe in the next village Echelles - only there was no cafe! Nor a boulangerie - than I remembered that there was a fantastic cafe with views right on the sea at Cap Gris Nez - so we drove there - to find the cafe had become a restaurant, and was naturally closed - so we ended up going to Ardreselles - where there was a row of cafes - and sat in the sun at their tea room and ate croque monsieur, croisants and a fab thing called sandwich campagnard which is a small half baguette covered with melted cheese and ham - nicer than the mass produced croque that Ned and I opted for. Then we walked down to the sea - which was incredibly wild - we could hear it roaring outside the cafe at the end of the street. There is a beach there - but it was very rocky - so we climbed about a bit (I was, as usual when offered something new and interesting) more energetic than usual. Then we drove down the coast road to Ambleteuse, Wimereux and finally arrived in a big Boulonnais traffic jam. We ground up the hill to the ville fortifiee and parked in the Place Mariette - admired the topiary pyramid of lonicera nitida, and the statue of Mariette Pacha in his fez and the modal of the solar barque from the pyramid of Cheops. Then we went up into the citadel, looked at restaurants, got to the chateau musee and found it was closing in 35 minutes, so we went to the cathedral (which was closing in 5 mins) and sat there and admired the perfect classical lines, constructed on top of the medieval cruciform foundation. It was lovely - very calming and cool.
We returned to the commercial world, found a restaurant which enthused Ned (confit de canard does that) and booked a table - then back up the road to get some cash - and then lunch. We went to La Grillade in Rue de Lille. It basically does grills, I had salmon en papillotte - which was nice - Finn had steak - small, over cooked even for him, and Mark had andouiletee (yeurrgh) - the frites were average (of British, rather than French standard)...the starters were nice - the males all had salade montbeliard - which was smoked sausage, fried potatoes, on a bed of lettuce with a nice balsamic dressing. I had two fishy rillettes - the tuna version was a bit dry - the salmon one was nice. It was an OK meal - nothing to write home about, maybe I should have had a steak. My cheese was right out of the fridge - a bit too firm for my liking. With a bottle of house rose, an extra glass of wine, it came to E116 Euros... less than £100 - but still no longer uber cheap. The great thing was that we had a really cheerful meal together - the boys all had starters! and Ned ate his lettuce.
After lunch we began to flag a bit - but went around the museum - I forgot they had such a good collection of Greek vases - actually, most of them are Apulian - but there are one or two really good ones - Ajax preparing to kill himself, and Heracles and the Stymphalian birds. Then we walked around the ramparts to get back to the car - it was lovely - fantastic views of the sea, the town (mostly ugly) and green and leafy - witih benches. No quite up to the standards of the ramparts at Lucca - but a good place for a stroll - a higher level park.
Grumpiness inevitably began to set in - M was tired and became increasingly erratic, I had drink taken, and had blisters on my feet from my sandals, so was more irritable than usual. We went to Nausicaa - at vast expense (E55) - but I was too knackered to "do" it. We agreed that M & I should have gone to the beach and let the boys do it on their own. But it was meant to be a nice family day together - so we had water in the bar (we ran out of cash, because M paid for Nausicaa with our cash, rather than card) and watched the tropical pools - we went down, saw the tropical pools from below - and then spent a happy time watching the sea lions.... then, just before closing time we went to see the Cape Penguins... so a jolly day. Then we went to the Supermarket - Auchan, in the centre commercial to the N of Boulogne. It is huge. I insisted we were not going to buy 100s of things - but we still spent £150 without any spirits or anything - we did buy about 18 bottles of wine - but since some of those were only about E2.59 a bottle (rose) hardly extravagant. I did buy a bottle of pink Sancerre. By the end of that we were knackerd and had about an hour before we were due to go to the Chunnel... Ned began to lament (having been brilliant all day) that we had not been to the monument, so I suggested we had a trip there and picniced and took the next train. But he was happy just to go there and then eat in the car... so we went back to Cap Blanc Nez - by this time the wind was appalling - so I stayed in the car. We got back to the Chunnel with minutes to spare... got our train.
It was a lovely day - in the morning especially when we were just driving along the coast road and stopping here and there. I thought perhaps next time we should just go to Audreselles, go to the beach, have Moules frites for lunch E10 and perhaps go and see 1 thing.... alternatively, if we had the money, spend a night there.
Thursday 14 June 2012
Terrifying sex organs of male turtles....
This is the title of an article in the on-line edition of Scientific American that I just looked at - well one has to, with a name like that. Of course, in the UK "turtle" means the sea-going chelonians that drift around and come ashore to lay eggs on beaches. In the US it can also mean tortoises and terrapins - and the article was in fact chiefly about tortoise penises - including an aside as to whether the tortoise's "intromittent organ" should be called a penis or a phallus. Well dearie!
The scientific world is full of these precise definitions which us mere writers are barely aware of. I was also fascinated to see the word intromission in real use. It is a word I once came across in some very personal correspondence - and I wondered at the time why the author was using such a very distancing sort of word when penetration would have been the more normal word to use of a human sexual relationship. Even if you are a biologist - do you really use the word intromission about a former girlfriend... what's that about? It's an interesting word - it exists as an adjective and a noun, but you don't hear it used as a verb - although it's obviously based on a Latin verb. "I shall die if I don't intromitt you forthwith!" - you can sort of imagine it being used in a Victorian pornographic novel...but I don't think any human being would really use it seriously in a personal context. So perhaps its use in that particular email suggested embarassment, withdrawal, distancing from the reality, or perhaps he's a lot more uptight... or perhaps it was a sort of ironic joke? I shall probably never know.
The scientific world is full of these precise definitions which us mere writers are barely aware of. I was also fascinated to see the word intromission in real use. It is a word I once came across in some very personal correspondence - and I wondered at the time why the author was using such a very distancing sort of word when penetration would have been the more normal word to use of a human sexual relationship. Even if you are a biologist - do you really use the word intromission about a former girlfriend... what's that about? It's an interesting word - it exists as an adjective and a noun, but you don't hear it used as a verb - although it's obviously based on a Latin verb. "I shall die if I don't intromitt you forthwith!" - you can sort of imagine it being used in a Victorian pornographic novel...but I don't think any human being would really use it seriously in a personal context. So perhaps its use in that particular email suggested embarassment, withdrawal, distancing from the reality, or perhaps he's a lot more uptight... or perhaps it was a sort of ironic joke? I shall probably never know.
Wednesday 13 June 2012
Sunshine part 2
And in the cool of the day, the Lord God walked in the Garden.... this is rather how I felt today - surveying the work of my hands (and Mark's of course). It is such a small garden, but it is so pretty at the moment - I'll have to put a picture up. The combination of the Compassion rose and the white jasmine is lovely - nearby there are the peachy Albertine roses, and waves of valerian. The knautia macrocephala (?) are flowering now - very tall, pretty, not especially attractive to insects though. Something that looks really beautiful this year is the thalictrum delvayii, it has got much bigger, very tall and has plenty of flowers. There are foxgloves lurking but all seem to be dwarfed by the bigger plants. The two big honeysuckles are out now - the white a bit delayed, it's more shaded than the other, and this morning I could really smell the scent. Just standing in the garden, looking at everything, and seeing Bernard sunning himself on the wall, I felt really happy.
Sunshine! Butterflies
Am having a very happy day today, woke at 5.30 - made bread and scones for breakfast - did washing, washing up, dealt with bank account, debt, phone calls, etc. and had a meeting in the garden with Jon. Really very good so far... it is so lovely in the garden, and I saw a most beautiful butterfly - we have a lot of blue butterflies in the garden, usually holly blues - but this is the first time I've seen one up close - it had a white border around the blue, and dark blue/black patches at the top of each wing... I also saw a butterfly I'd never seen before - the underside of the wings was also an extraordinary turquoise colour - like an oxidised copper roof... so beautiful, apparently it is a green hairstreak - not sure why it's in our garden, because we don't have any of its usual food plants, apart from a type of cytisus which has stopped flowering now.
I want to be in the garden, but feel a bit guilty about what I haven't done on the computer. I wonder if all this energy is due to the diet - feeling somehow in control is energising. I am very hungry - so will go and have lunch.
The other feature of today has been surprise visitors - which is very nice, first Jon, now Eyvor - and the Jehovah's witnesses of course.
I want to be in the garden, but feel a bit guilty about what I haven't done on the computer. I wonder if all this energy is due to the diet - feeling somehow in control is energising. I am very hungry - so will go and have lunch.
The other feature of today has been surprise visitors - which is very nice, first Jon, now Eyvor - and the Jehovah's witnesses of course.
Monday 11 June 2012
The lost trousers
Really, at the moment, I am so full of melancholy that this blog ought to be retitled lacrimae rerum. Things disappear from one's life all the time - important things, but sometimes it is the small things that really upset one. About 11 years ago I bought some striped trousers from a catalogue - I wasn't sure about them, but I felt they made a good change from the black and stone coloured ones I usually wore in the summer. They were very comfortable - and have accommodated various changes of size since then, and they had pockets. When I first put them on I had a brief happy feeling because I was reminded of the striped dungarees I used to wear when I was about 4 - I called them "kangaroos" and used to jump about when I wore them... being 4 must have been such bliss - jumping! if only...
When I got the trousers out this summer was delighted that they still fitted - and have been wearing them - weather permitting - for the last few weeks. Yesterday, sitting on a bench in the "zoo" I leaned down to pick something off the ground and felt a tear. When I got home - a few further tears later - I took them off and had a look. The seat had worn thin - the tear was inevitable, the fabric was beyond repair. They must go into the clothes recycling bag. I am very sad about it, they seemed to be a tenuous link with my happy childhood self...alas!
Tomorrow I am going to join Weight Watchers - otherwise, by the end of the month I will have achieved nothing...and I will have to investigate surgical alternatives. The only way this will work is if I am incredibly disciplined and stick it out to the end. In some ways it should be easier - no hormonal jolts etc. No weird water retention. Maybe by the end of the summer I can drag some new old clothes out from under the bed.
When I got the trousers out this summer was delighted that they still fitted - and have been wearing them - weather permitting - for the last few weeks. Yesterday, sitting on a bench in the "zoo" I leaned down to pick something off the ground and felt a tear. When I got home - a few further tears later - I took them off and had a look. The seat had worn thin - the tear was inevitable, the fabric was beyond repair. They must go into the clothes recycling bag. I am very sad about it, they seemed to be a tenuous link with my happy childhood self...alas!
Tomorrow I am going to join Weight Watchers - otherwise, by the end of the month I will have achieved nothing...and I will have to investigate surgical alternatives. The only way this will work is if I am incredibly disciplined and stick it out to the end. In some ways it should be easier - no hormonal jolts etc. No weird water retention. Maybe by the end of the summer I can drag some new old clothes out from under the bed.
Sunday 10 June 2012
And then again...
that internal weeping I feel occasionally may just be an indication that I've been forgetting to take my medication, rather like the "breakthrough bleeding" one has occasionally when hormones are getting a bit out of control.
Today was a better day - I got up about 10.30 had breakfast, sorted out washing, washing up and did a little bit of the garden. Then Finn, M and I went out to the local "Wildlife Park" - which clearly needs a change of name... since it now has 5 different types of crocodile, a couple of green mambas, a lot of macacques and some lions and tigers. I think the word they are looking for could be zoo? It has become packed with new animals since we last went - two delightful porcupines, they really are lovely, they have such mild, agreeable bland faces, and then suddenly you hear a hiss as the spines rise and rattle... histrix is a type of porcupine - maybe it's an onomatopoeic name... I used to use a picture of the porcupine at Blois as my avatar on the Authonomy site... do I still rattle my quills so much? Dunno. Too tired to write, shouldn't be doing it really.
Today was a better day - I got up about 10.30 had breakfast, sorted out washing, washing up and did a little bit of the garden. Then Finn, M and I went out to the local "Wildlife Park" - which clearly needs a change of name... since it now has 5 different types of crocodile, a couple of green mambas, a lot of macacques and some lions and tigers. I think the word they are looking for could be zoo? It has become packed with new animals since we last went - two delightful porcupines, they really are lovely, they have such mild, agreeable bland faces, and then suddenly you hear a hiss as the spines rise and rattle... histrix is a type of porcupine - maybe it's an onomatopoeic name... I used to use a picture of the porcupine at Blois as my avatar on the Authonomy site... do I still rattle my quills so much? Dunno. Too tired to write, shouldn't be doing it really.
Sometimes...
I find myself looking at all the weird and wonderful social media sites, and other things I habitually consult and thinking "I want something and it isn't here?" Usually what I want is real social life, but tonight I had real social life - 4 people to dinner - and I still have that feeling. One person dominated the conversation (not me!) because she is recovering from a depression... every topic produced a new burst of passion... I tried so many times to change the subject, to give someone else a chance to shine. For some reason we seemed to discuss WW2 for about 2 hours and this is a subject I find amazingly boring. I attempted to start a new conversation about art - but that didn't work either. She is very lovely and kind, but tonight she was just a bit over the top. So why, after an evening of social life, and a nice meal and so on, do I feel so empty and sad? I guess it is just a product of being a human being - lacrimae rerum etc. But what can I reasonably expect?
Sometimes I think my lack of social life is due to Mark - when we go somewhere and I know a few people I don't hang around and chat with them, because he always wants to go home. And I like being at home, but I think last night I would have liked to stay and talk to people - but it's almost as if I have been socially de-skilled. I would have liked to talk to Sue and Kit and meet those friends of theirs I never meet... but, but.... I can't blame him totally, I let him do it to me. I don't suppose if I had a different partner things would be different - actually, this is totally untrue - but it would depend on the partner. I have a tension between being private and quiet and being social and amusing, but the former gets the upper hand these days, and that isn't how I want to be. I want to be open and intimate with friends, I want to be amusing with acquaintances, but I would like to chose. If I had gone out on my own last night I would have stayed and chatted, and hung out with people, and perhaps even, joy of joys, gone for a drink with them or something. This evening, in a sense, was a bit of a disaster - I hoped people would have proper conversations, but it didn't work out.
I have inner weeping... it's a strange thing - sometimes it's about the LO, sometimes it's just about me, and my situation. There's nothing terrible about my situation, but I just know it's not right in all sorts of ways. It must change, but when? how?
Sometimes I think my lack of social life is due to Mark - when we go somewhere and I know a few people I don't hang around and chat with them, because he always wants to go home. And I like being at home, but I think last night I would have liked to stay and talk to people - but it's almost as if I have been socially de-skilled. I would have liked to talk to Sue and Kit and meet those friends of theirs I never meet... but, but.... I can't blame him totally, I let him do it to me. I don't suppose if I had a different partner things would be different - actually, this is totally untrue - but it would depend on the partner. I have a tension between being private and quiet and being social and amusing, but the former gets the upper hand these days, and that isn't how I want to be. I want to be open and intimate with friends, I want to be amusing with acquaintances, but I would like to chose. If I had gone out on my own last night I would have stayed and chatted, and hung out with people, and perhaps even, joy of joys, gone for a drink with them or something. This evening, in a sense, was a bit of a disaster - I hoped people would have proper conversations, but it didn't work out.
I have inner weeping... it's a strange thing - sometimes it's about the LO, sometimes it's just about me, and my situation. There's nothing terrible about my situation, but I just know it's not right in all sorts of ways. It must change, but when? how?
Friday 8 June 2012
Weather rage
It has been blowing all day and finally, when I made it into the garden, I discovered it had blown the topmost buds off the beautiful rose called (I think) Compassion. I am so furious, I expect it will have more buds later, but I was really looking forward to those. A lot of flowers are looking bruised from the treatment they have had from the wind. Now it is delightfully sunny and still furiously windy, I can cope with the weather, so long as it leaves the garden alone. These sorts of gales in June are really unusual I think, and I am feeling we ought to have a brief period of respite from the meteorological malice!
Politics and the weather
I have noticed this blog has less and less about politics, this is not because I have lost interest, but I think because it has become so especially depressing. There is no improvement in the economic climate, and if I dwell on this, I worry about the implications of it for M's business. Archaeology is so tied up to the property development cycle, and now the whole thing has come to a grinding halt... this is getting on for 4 years now. The Tories don't understand how to create economic growth - so Lord knows when it will end. Now they are blaming the euro crisis for our woes. I cannot quite see how, since we are not in the euro, and our economy is quite independent, although a lot of our exports are to Europe.
The Leveson enquiry has had its moments, the "comeuppance theme" that I identified in January seems to be continuing - although no sign of comeuppance for Gideon Osborne...and his mate David, unfortunately.
So of course, when in doubt, talk about the weather. Although British weather is said to be unpredictable, the fact is that certain times of year usually offer certain weather scenarios: early June is usually a bit wet, but has usually settled down by the 7th. Late May is often wet. Mid July is usually fine and warm, the weather becomes unsettled in August - when the school holidays start. Early September, when everyone has gone back to school, is also largely pleasant. February to April/May is pretty unpredictable. In the last few years we have had warm Februaries when one could sit in the garden and eat lunch; we have had snowbound Februaries. Last year April was really warm and sunny - eating outdoors, sunburn, the beach, everything. This year, cold, wet,wet,wet and miserable. Spring has been awful - wet, and on the few sunny days, usually unpleasantly windy. So one was feeling that by June it might be time for improvement. Instead, we have more rain, and now gales - which, living by the sea, seem a great deal worse here. I am sitting looking out at the street, grey clouds are progressing rapidly across the horizon - some darker than others, but no sign of a break. There is a strong wind blowing the crab apple tree - sort of ESE wind... and there are occasional bursts of rain in the wind. The only birds to be seen are occasional herring gulls - drifting high above the roofs, but the wind is now so strong that they are being blasted off course by it.
It is 8.00 am - I have made some notes about the novel - and I am going back to bed. The weather definitely affects my mood and energy levels far more than I'd like -- aand this weather is frankly depressing, and ennervating.
The Leveson enquiry has had its moments, the "comeuppance theme" that I identified in January seems to be continuing - although no sign of comeuppance for Gideon Osborne...and his mate David, unfortunately.
So of course, when in doubt, talk about the weather. Although British weather is said to be unpredictable, the fact is that certain times of year usually offer certain weather scenarios: early June is usually a bit wet, but has usually settled down by the 7th. Late May is often wet. Mid July is usually fine and warm, the weather becomes unsettled in August - when the school holidays start. Early September, when everyone has gone back to school, is also largely pleasant. February to April/May is pretty unpredictable. In the last few years we have had warm Februaries when one could sit in the garden and eat lunch; we have had snowbound Februaries. Last year April was really warm and sunny - eating outdoors, sunburn, the beach, everything. This year, cold, wet,wet,wet and miserable. Spring has been awful - wet, and on the few sunny days, usually unpleasantly windy. So one was feeling that by June it might be time for improvement. Instead, we have more rain, and now gales - which, living by the sea, seem a great deal worse here. I am sitting looking out at the street, grey clouds are progressing rapidly across the horizon - some darker than others, but no sign of a break. There is a strong wind blowing the crab apple tree - sort of ESE wind... and there are occasional bursts of rain in the wind. The only birds to be seen are occasional herring gulls - drifting high above the roofs, but the wind is now so strong that they are being blasted off course by it.
It is 8.00 am - I have made some notes about the novel - and I am going back to bed. The weather definitely affects my mood and energy levels far more than I'd like -- aand this weather is frankly depressing, and ennervating.
Thursday 7 June 2012
Well, come on then!
Where are all the events that I was promised as a result of the eclipse and the transit of Venus? Haven't seen a sudden shift in my affections, no one has assailed me with money or job offers or glory - true they usually say these things can happen (a) 5 days either side (i.e. up until 9th June/11th June) or (b) a month after the eclipse (4th July) or (c) a month and a week after....(11th July). Or perhaps I should just wait for the New Moon on 19th June. Maybe that will be the clincher!
Wednesday 6 June 2012
18 Years of Motherhood
It is Ned's 18th birthday today. He was tucked up in our bed this morning with just his eyes and nose showing when I came back from the bathroom. I did a sort of double-take - he looked like his smaller, childish self - very sweet, bright-eyed and eager. I don't know what sort of a childhood we've managed to give him, we've never had much money, but we always had holidays until the last two years - and he's had food and clothes and a limited amount of spending money, and musical instruments and guitar lessons. So - materially he's been about OK. I hope he's had enough love to reassure him throughout adult life - and that the good memories of childhood or at least of our family life, will override the bad ones (he claims to have been shut in his room for 2 hours once - it was actually 20 minutes).
I am not sure if he is sufficiently armed for the adult world. I don't think he understands how hard one has to work to be a success. We haven't been really good role models in that way - neither of us works as hard as we should have done, and being freelance gives an impression of dolce far niente. Having a mother who sits and types in her dressing gown until midday cannot give any idea of the real working world.
And what has 18 years of motherhood done for me? I always wanted to have children (apart from a period between about 17 and 30) and so I was going to be a mother whatever happened (unless I didn't meet anyone of course, wouldn't have done it on my own). I always fought for my own identity - to be Kate and not "Ned's mum" - but the fight for identity was too hard for a long time and I just slumped, and succumbed to housework and cooking and not bothering too much. Now in the last 3 years when I have had to fight to gain a corner, I feel that I am being selfish - even though I am not taking time away from them really.
For a while Ned has been volatile and shouty and quite hostile to me - but latterly he has calmed down and been pleasant and become an agreeable companion again. We had an interesting discussion about Tracey Emin yesterday after going to the exhibition, and I recognise now that he is learning about things, and reading writers that I know nothing about. This is good - and I hope to learn much more from him. The exchange of skills will become more equal, until eventually I have nothing left to teach, while he still has lots of things to show me. Actually, I hope I will always have new things to teach and learn, but clearly he will be the one who is more engaged with the world than me. When he was small people always said how "close" we were, but that diminished with the arrival of Finn - however hard I tried to give Ned attention, he was really resentful of Finn (and still is) and quite angry with me for inflicting Finn on him. Now, I hope, we will become closer again. He is likely to be at home for another year before he goes to university, which I hope will be a pleasant time.
I am not sure if he is sufficiently armed for the adult world. I don't think he understands how hard one has to work to be a success. We haven't been really good role models in that way - neither of us works as hard as we should have done, and being freelance gives an impression of dolce far niente. Having a mother who sits and types in her dressing gown until midday cannot give any idea of the real working world.
And what has 18 years of motherhood done for me? I always wanted to have children (apart from a period between about 17 and 30) and so I was going to be a mother whatever happened (unless I didn't meet anyone of course, wouldn't have done it on my own). I always fought for my own identity - to be Kate and not "Ned's mum" - but the fight for identity was too hard for a long time and I just slumped, and succumbed to housework and cooking and not bothering too much. Now in the last 3 years when I have had to fight to gain a corner, I feel that I am being selfish - even though I am not taking time away from them really.
For a while Ned has been volatile and shouty and quite hostile to me - but latterly he has calmed down and been pleasant and become an agreeable companion again. We had an interesting discussion about Tracey Emin yesterday after going to the exhibition, and I recognise now that he is learning about things, and reading writers that I know nothing about. This is good - and I hope to learn much more from him. The exchange of skills will become more equal, until eventually I have nothing left to teach, while he still has lots of things to show me. Actually, I hope I will always have new things to teach and learn, but clearly he will be the one who is more engaged with the world than me. When he was small people always said how "close" we were, but that diminished with the arrival of Finn - however hard I tried to give Ned attention, he was really resentful of Finn (and still is) and quite angry with me for inflicting Finn on him. Now, I hope, we will become closer again. He is likely to be at home for another year before he goes to university, which I hope will be a pleasant time.
Tracey Emin 2
After I'd written and sent off my review of the TE exhibition, I condescended to look at the brief guide to the it that the Turner Contemp. had produced. It was full of hype about her work - which really gave it a more pretentious shove than it seemed to me to deserve. It didn't engage much with the personal side.
Although my review was limited by my own knowledge of her and her work, I felt it was a rather more honest offering than the official version. It also highlighted a number of works which were barely worthy of comment. The iron bath with a crumpled Union Jack in it... oh dear, for a long time I have felt that I was potentially a great conceptual artist (she said modestly) since I have many ideas of equivalent value.
Although my review was limited by my own knowledge of her and her work, I felt it was a rather more honest offering than the official version. It also highlighted a number of works which were barely worthy of comment. The iron bath with a crumpled Union Jack in it... oh dear, for a long time I have felt that I was potentially a great conceptual artist (she said modestly) since I have many ideas of equivalent value.
Tuesday 5 June 2012
Tracey Emin
I occasionally write reviews of things for a local mag - for free - and this is my latest review of the Tracey Emin exhibition at Turner Contemporary.
Warning this review contains sexual
imagery!
She lay down beneath the Sea: Tracey
Emin at Turner Contemporary
This exhibition of Tracey Emin’s work will provoke a range of
personal responses. The aesthetic
qualities of her work, the “how would this look in the sitting room?” question,
may not be uppermost in many visitors’ minds. Those looking for a Margate element
in the work will look in vain.
So what do we have?
The first room of the exhibition consists chiefly of a series of blue
ink drawings of a naked woman in an identical position, with one knee drawn up –
suggestive of masturbation. There are a
number of different titles – proclaiming her feelings of loss, longing for
love, hurt. Along with these are some
similar images which she has created in blue threads on calico. Looking at
these as a fellow human one finds a sorrowful exhibition of vulnerability, a
continuation of Emin’s openness about her sexual/emotional experiences in her
art. Looking at them as works of art, I
found them disappointing. She has
recently become a professor of drawing – obviously she has a fluidity of line
when it comes to this topic – but there is a sense of them having been dashed
off rapidly. For this reason alone one
has more respect for the embroidered pieces, which she worked herself, a
time-consuming process (please don’t tell me she used a machine!) The embroidery style using satin stitch,
sometimes in contrasting blues or black, is a simple technique that probably
pre-dates the Bayeux Tapestry: here a traditional female craft is used to
convey female angst, rather than the more traditional domestic images.
The sketchiness, the
casualness of her drawings seem redolent of the unhappiness, or perhaps she did
them when she was drunk – they have that sort of scrappy feeling. As someone who has tried to write when drunk
I recognise the product of a similar urge to get something down, something important, married with a diminished
technical ability. Unfortunately my
inebriated jottings don’t have much market value.
Three drawings, echoing Picasso’s female portraits, Beautiful Reflection show a woman with
misplaced eyes. To me this said something of the way a
woman, perhaps particularly a woman artist, has to contort or distort herself
to be acceptable, and that she doesn’t get to age like Picasso – pulling birds
and engendering children in old age.
In the second room four tapestries focus again on sex and female
genitalia. They are incredibly clever,
the use of colour is subtle, and the Mystic
Rose uses pink to excellent effect – suddenly you see the rose/vulva
connection as never before... Again there is the subversion of tapestry – used by
nice ladies to make cushion covers with flowers and butterflies on, to show us
a totally different aspect of femininity.
Every nice lady who ever stitched a draught excluder or a firescreen had
a vagina as well: no, it’s not surprising, but it’s seldom mentioned.
Seeing Rodin’s sketches of nudes in the midst of this was a
shock. Whatever you feel about Emin’s
nudes, they lack erotic/titillating qualities – their starkness contrasts with
Rodin’s male gaze and the deliberate way he’s posed his models. Turner’s sketches of nude women have an almost
apologetic quality, not fully realised, adolescent or furtive perhaps. Seeing these Emin’s nudes seem more vital and
expressive.
Her sculptural/installation pieces are less successful I
think – having read an article in which she discusses her current work in the
context of her menopause, I didn’t really see much of a connection (despite my
own expertise in this field) – except perhaps that stark dead, leafless olive
branch on the stained mattress. I couldn’t
help wondering why the centre of the mattress was so clean and the staining
around the outside – the symbolism (if any) escaped me.
She lay down beneath
the Sea provoked plenty of thought and discussion, which is what one hopes for
from art that one doesn’t find aesthetically pleasing. But perhaps, on reflection, I’d rather like
one of those four large tapestries for my sitting room wall.
Monday 4 June 2012
The bloody awful populist crap
that we get fed for the Jubilee is too much for me. Sadly we have nothing better to do so we are watching it - because one feels one ought to participate a bit, and we couldn't be arsed to go and see the beacon being lit. So instead we are watching Rolf Harris leading the crowd in singing "Two Little Boys" which is one of the most sentimental and rubbishy song ever written which I simply cannot stand. However, now we have Stevie Wonder singing Sir Duke so something worthwhile has come of this.
I realise at times of popular festivity like this what ghastly elitists Mark and I are... how "out of it" we are. We weren't invited to any street parties (well, we were, but the invitation was withdrawn since it was "residents only") and we didn't go out yesterday because it was raining and miserable, and I only like going out voluntarily when it's dry... and preferably sunny (but not too hot of course). I am curious about how people enjoy themselves, I could, after a couple of drinks, enter the spirit of the thing, but I wouldn't initiate it. I really do prefer sitting in my garden and looking at insects - and magpies, and the cat, and the flowers. And thinking about things.
Today is the great eclipsed Full Moon - at which my life is about to change according to both my astrology gurus and both my solar and ascendant charts. Perhaps it was safest to stay indoors. Tomorrow we are going to Margate to see the Tracey Emin exhibition. Nevertheless, I am feeling slightly excited and more open to new things than usual. Happy!
I realise at times of popular festivity like this what ghastly elitists Mark and I are... how "out of it" we are. We weren't invited to any street parties (well, we were, but the invitation was withdrawn since it was "residents only") and we didn't go out yesterday because it was raining and miserable, and I only like going out voluntarily when it's dry... and preferably sunny (but not too hot of course). I am curious about how people enjoy themselves, I could, after a couple of drinks, enter the spirit of the thing, but I wouldn't initiate it. I really do prefer sitting in my garden and looking at insects - and magpies, and the cat, and the flowers. And thinking about things.
Today is the great eclipsed Full Moon - at which my life is about to change according to both my astrology gurus and both my solar and ascendant charts. Perhaps it was safest to stay indoors. Tomorrow we are going to Margate to see the Tracey Emin exhibition. Nevertheless, I am feeling slightly excited and more open to new things than usual. Happy!
Jubilation...
... because our B&B guests have gone. A Polish family - pleasant but a bit dour, the wife very skinny and perfect, had a rather disapproving expression... not much English, the 12 year old son was best, the husband didn't seem to speak English at all. Still, it was £100 for two nights... so not really complaining. Mark thought it wasn't enough because Norbert got use of the sitting room - I agree that if a child isn't sleeping with the parents, we ought to charge about £15 - rather than £5. But we haven't sorted that out. They may come again, and so we will probably not be able to charge them more next time.
What I feel about people who stay with us is that often they are rich kids, who have servants to keep their houses clean, or they come from cultures where if you are poor your respectability is tied up with cleanliness. Neither of these cultures quite "gets" the bohemian charm and squalor of our set up. It is getting better, as my energy returns so does my ability to do housework... Mark heroically steam cleaned the top of the stove and this morning I cleaned up all the new grease on it, and made an attempt on some of the encrusted stuff. We also cleared the table a bit...and the Irish cupboard...It's nearly tidy.
The garden is looking superb: the roses are coming out, the valerian is fab, and I have discovered it makes a good cut flower. The first time I have ever been able to cut flowers from the garden (apart from the tiny winter posies I make occasionally). I am full of fantastic idea about things to do...but am currently having a little rest.
Later I will go to the Tracey Emin exhibition, I hope... or maybe tomorrow - doing a review for Thanet Watch.
What I feel about people who stay with us is that often they are rich kids, who have servants to keep their houses clean, or they come from cultures where if you are poor your respectability is tied up with cleanliness. Neither of these cultures quite "gets" the bohemian charm and squalor of our set up. It is getting better, as my energy returns so does my ability to do housework... Mark heroically steam cleaned the top of the stove and this morning I cleaned up all the new grease on it, and made an attempt on some of the encrusted stuff. We also cleared the table a bit...and the Irish cupboard...It's nearly tidy.
The garden is looking superb: the roses are coming out, the valerian is fab, and I have discovered it makes a good cut flower. The first time I have ever been able to cut flowers from the garden (apart from the tiny winter posies I make occasionally). I am full of fantastic idea about things to do...but am currently having a little rest.
Later I will go to the Tracey Emin exhibition, I hope... or maybe tomorrow - doing a review for Thanet Watch.
Saturday 2 June 2012
The Jubilee - A "free-enough" country
This is now the 3rd of the Queen's jubilees I've experienced. The most exciting one, from my viewpoint, was the 1977 on, her Silver Jubilee. I was in my first year at university, I was a Trotskyite fellow traveller, and I had a "stuff the Jubilee" badge. I made a little A4 poster with a picture of an axe and the slogan "Viva Oliver Cromwell" and put it on my door in my hall of residence. I went to my parents for the weekend, two ginger kittens had just been born to the cat Josephine, my mother proposed calling one of them Jubilee, so I suggested Cromwell for the other - so Jubilee and Cromwell stalked the property for the next 15 years or so.
We took the Circusact inflatable to a number of street parties etc. There was some political discussion about whether we should do this, but we were paid for it, so we did it. It was just before I met James, my first husband - it was a curiously free time. I was still repining my relationship with Paddy, and feeling a bit cross and resentful with him when I saw him at this period. And I went home for the weekend - that must have been a rare occurrence. I think I wanted to get away from Jubilistic London: I knew there wouldn't be much in the way of celebrations at my parents' house.
The Golden Jubilee, 10 years ago was different. We were still living in London, we were hard up, as usual. We didn't go out, the boys were still young, 7 and 4. We watched some of it on telly and laughed at the sight of Jeremy Irons and other "Great Britons" riding in a Jubilee Bus in some sort of procession: we laughed at him because we know him, and it seemed absurd, although he is deeply patriotic, not unsurprising. Because we lived so near Westminster, we were able to see the Jubilee "fly-past" with the Red Arrows and so on through our bedroom window. It was fun, in the sort of muted, nuclear family way that we have sometimes. My attitude to the royal family had mellowed. I felt the Queen was quite a good thing, a good woman, a Christian, and someone with a longer term political perspective than all the simpering ninnies who seemed to be becoming Prime Minister these days (Blair, and now Cameron).
This year I feel delighted to have a four-day weekend, to be able to take time off and relax and hang out with the family. I will probably watch the flotilla on the river on telly... maybe with Alex at the Yacht Club (if it wouldn't freak me out too much)...I feel much the same about the Queen as I did last time. I don't much favour Prince Charles any more - he's a meddler, sometimes I agree with his meddling, sometimes I don't, but I think he's pretty out of touch, and we already have an out of touch cabinet, and we don't need a monarch doing the same. For some reason, I don't feel the Q is as out of touch as he is.
Finn is grumbling about all the bunting and patriotic posters... "I hate patriotism" he says. I explained that loving your country isn't bad, but being obsessed with it, because you have nothing else to be proud of is dangerous. I buy into the legend of Britain as a "free country" - even now, when your number plate is registered as you move around the country, when your emails etc. can easily be accessed by the government, your phone calls logged. It is still freer than other places. I don't think it is a perfect country, and perhaps I would rather live in France. Except I wouldn't really. I can't help being thoroughly British (a mix of English, Welsh, Irish and a dash of Scotch), I suspect my idiosyncrasies and opinions are far better tolerated in Britain than they would be in the USA or any other "free countries" around the world. The best thing about the Jubilee is that no one is forcing us to celebrate it.
We took the Circusact inflatable to a number of street parties etc. There was some political discussion about whether we should do this, but we were paid for it, so we did it. It was just before I met James, my first husband - it was a curiously free time. I was still repining my relationship with Paddy, and feeling a bit cross and resentful with him when I saw him at this period. And I went home for the weekend - that must have been a rare occurrence. I think I wanted to get away from Jubilistic London: I knew there wouldn't be much in the way of celebrations at my parents' house.
The Golden Jubilee, 10 years ago was different. We were still living in London, we were hard up, as usual. We didn't go out, the boys were still young, 7 and 4. We watched some of it on telly and laughed at the sight of Jeremy Irons and other "Great Britons" riding in a Jubilee Bus in some sort of procession: we laughed at him because we know him, and it seemed absurd, although he is deeply patriotic, not unsurprising. Because we lived so near Westminster, we were able to see the Jubilee "fly-past" with the Red Arrows and so on through our bedroom window. It was fun, in the sort of muted, nuclear family way that we have sometimes. My attitude to the royal family had mellowed. I felt the Queen was quite a good thing, a good woman, a Christian, and someone with a longer term political perspective than all the simpering ninnies who seemed to be becoming Prime Minister these days (Blair, and now Cameron).
This year I feel delighted to have a four-day weekend, to be able to take time off and relax and hang out with the family. I will probably watch the flotilla on the river on telly... maybe with Alex at the Yacht Club (if it wouldn't freak me out too much)...I feel much the same about the Queen as I did last time. I don't much favour Prince Charles any more - he's a meddler, sometimes I agree with his meddling, sometimes I don't, but I think he's pretty out of touch, and we already have an out of touch cabinet, and we don't need a monarch doing the same. For some reason, I don't feel the Q is as out of touch as he is.
Finn is grumbling about all the bunting and patriotic posters... "I hate patriotism" he says. I explained that loving your country isn't bad, but being obsessed with it, because you have nothing else to be proud of is dangerous. I buy into the legend of Britain as a "free country" - even now, when your number plate is registered as you move around the country, when your emails etc. can easily be accessed by the government, your phone calls logged. It is still freer than other places. I don't think it is a perfect country, and perhaps I would rather live in France. Except I wouldn't really. I can't help being thoroughly British (a mix of English, Welsh, Irish and a dash of Scotch), I suspect my idiosyncrasies and opinions are far better tolerated in Britain than they would be in the USA or any other "free countries" around the world. The best thing about the Jubilee is that no one is forcing us to celebrate it.
Friday 1 June 2012
New Post
I feel the itchy urge to write, but honestly have nothing to say, or nothing I can be bothered to say, or nothing I wish to say in the semi-public intimacy of the blog. So what can I tell you? I have almost returned to normal, I am shopping, cooking, reading - I even did a bit of writing yesterday. I have been socialising too, and plan to do some more.
I have a superb horoscope for June - the Aquarius one promises love and thrills - the Scorpio (ascendant) promises money... so what's not to like? Actually, I have felt quite happy the last few days - even though the weather is grey and colder again - there was a flash flood in Margate on Wednesday and it's raining lightly outside. Being better always is such a good feeling, but it's wonderful when it lasts a few days like this. I shall have to hope to report better things in the days to come.
I have a superb horoscope for June - the Aquarius one promises love and thrills - the Scorpio (ascendant) promises money... so what's not to like? Actually, I have felt quite happy the last few days - even though the weather is grey and colder again - there was a flash flood in Margate on Wednesday and it's raining lightly outside. Being better always is such a good feeling, but it's wonderful when it lasts a few days like this. I shall have to hope to report better things in the days to come.
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