2008 — 11 August: Monday
I thought, as it's now nine months since Christa died(!), I'd share one of my favourite pictures of her. I'm not generally a fan of soft-focus and natural light, but I took this in the bedroom of the Penzance guest-house where we spent a happy fortnight together in September 1975 on what was both our first real holiday away together and, in practice, our delayed honeymoon.
Christa in Penzance, September 1975
1974 going into 1975 had been a year of some considerable change and trauma. My complete (and quite sudden) change of career path from aeronautical engineering into the world of computing as an instructional writer.1 The frankly cosmic-sized coincidence by which Christa and I met in the vicarage of Old Windsor just a few days after I'd started renting a room there to be near my new ICL office. The overwhelming whirlpool of emotions that was a consequence of our falling rapidly head over heels in love and irrevocably choosing to make our future lives together (totally unexpected and unlooked-for, but — in retrospect — the smartest move I ever made and, I'm sure, totally inevitable). Christa's shoulder surgery and convalescence. Dad's long drawn-out final illness; I'd been very upset by this and had (I'm certain, as a consequence) been in poor health2 for quite some time.
Christa (who, remember, had left home and country behind to strike out on her own at Royal Holloway College for a year before planning to return to complete the German equivalent of a post-grad certificate of education) helped pull me through this horrible time. She was simultaneously holding down three separate part-time jobs to help finance our first house purchase while I'd also been completely absorbed working some very long hours writing an extensive3 ICL programming language training package quite largely on my own. (My considerably more experienced colleague and mentor had recently resigned.) Interesting times, as the Chinese are supposed to say.
G'night at 00:27 or so. Oh, and R.I.P. Pauline Baynes, too. (She was the illustrator of the Narnia books and [among many other commissions] the paperback cover of the one-volume edition of "Lord of the Rings" too.)
I only relatively recently (back in March) got this item back onto my shelves, of course. My original 1968 copy that Big Bro bought me for my birthday went to niece #3 and then went AWOL when her storage facility was burgled.
1 + 1 = ?
Yikes, I can't imagine studying "the results of standardized math tests taken by some 7 million students in 10 states, from second grade through 11th." But when five women have, surely journalists should accurately report their conclusions? (Source.)
I calculate it's time (09:44) for some breakfast.
As for 27...?
European member states, that is. I do wonder what Christa would have made of this piece in Spiegel about the stalling of the next revision of the treaty. I'm sure "Law and Order" is somewhere on their agenda, too. I mentioned a while back that I'd got my hands on that 1978 TV series by GF Newman. I notice that he can be seen chatting to Mark Lawson tonight, so that's a date. I have a lunch date tomorrow, too, with Iris. The Beeb is predicting rain... I'm predicting Brambridge.
Not a lot has changed... dept.
The Australian (owned, I believe by one R Murdoch esq.) has a fascinating piece on "The Villa of the Papyri" — thought to have been owned by Julius Caesar's father-in-law, and buried in the eruption of Vesuvius. Its design was used by JP Getty for his mansion in California.
A few lines from Lucretius, penned at the apogee of paganism, are equally applicable in the age of the plasma screen:
But while we can't get what we want, that seems
Of all things most desirable. Once got,
We must have something else.
Hard to argue with that. After all, when I look back on the "drunkard's walk" that has been my life, that's clearly been one of its driving principles. Fortunately, "of all things most desirable" I found, and kept hold of, Christa!
I'm now (12:37) back from the supplies trail, supping a soothing cuppa, and listening to the latest "something else"; the other set of pieces by Astor Piazzolla:
As I walk along the Prom... dept.
I still have a cassette tape of the 1980 Prom concert and the yellowing Radio Times clipping that introduced George Benjamin's "Ringed by the flat horizon". It seems I have another chance to hear the piece in an hour or so as there's a repeat of a Prom from last week with him conducting it.
Time for a spot of lunch, while I watch the spots of rain. Is it just me, or has the nature of the questions being asked on Round Britain Quiz changed over the years? Certainly, the marking is more generous. Well, it's 14:58 and the sausage salad went down a treat. I think I might just take the Yaris out for a gentle pootle around this afternoon, in tribute to Christa's therapy. Failing that, I can continue my sporadic research into the ideal data base system (a very long-running background task that began in 1985 with "AtLastPlus" on my Amstrad CP/M system, and continued with "System DeltaPlus" on my Acorn Archimedes RISC systems).
It's just gone 17:54 and I'm safely back from a gentle 12-mile pootle down to the Millbrook Comet for a little mooch around. My wallet stayed firmly in my pocket though I admit there was quite a tasty 58" plasma on display (cosmetically damaged, ex-display, reduced) that would be an almost worthwhile incremental upgrade. I'll also admit to a brief but soul-searing "wobble" on my return, though why an anniversary should be any more poignant than any other day escapes my understanding.
In later news...
Gosh! I emailed Ms Ironside and got a reply within an hour. No such response from the Stuart Maconie programme, however (just an "Auto-reply"). And Big Bro does finally seem to be on the point of leaving Chile. And I've found a decent looking Open Office database tutorial. But now (21:04) I think it's time for some mindless mayhem in front of the goggle box. And another cuppa, of course.
The second disc of Private Schulz has a lovely little documentary extra on it. What a good series though, sadly, neither of the "stars" is still alive, let alone the writer. It was first shown in the summer of 1981. Junior rang as the Schulzfest was getting under way. He's now fully back to good health. Great!