2009 — 30 May: Saturday
Sometimes, while she was working out in the garden, I could sneak a photo of Christa without her noticing. This one, which I took on 5th May 2007, was during the draining of the fish-pond:
I think she was salvaging some of the oxygenators, having by then relocated the fishy denizens of the Deep to their new home over the road. That was a fun operation.
G'night.
There comes a point...
... when further pursuit of sleep is pointless. So, given that the sun is blazing away and there's culinary preparation to be done, I've leapt into slo-mo action. It's only 08:21 and Brian Matthew is playing the "Boll Weevil" song. Good grief!
Francis Wheen has always struck me as a class act. Here he's on particularly fine form as he reviews the proposition that maybe the 1970s weren't so bad after all... Snippet and source:
Although the publishers are making much of the fact that Beckett interviewed some of the surviving participants in this bleak melodrama (the Thatcherite gurus Sir Alfred Sherman and Lord Harris, the trade unionists Jack Jones and Arthur Scargill), none of them has anything interesting to say. What makes the book such an evocative and riveting read is the archival record of an approaching thunderstorm, which he describes vividly and honestly even when it doesn't suit his purpose: Beckett is too good a reporter to ignore the evidence that Britain in the Seventies was not the best of all possible worlds. Jim Callaghan confessed to his Cabinet colleagues that if he were a younger man he would emigrate. Margaret Thatcher told Kingsley Amis that if she lost the general election she and Denis would stay in Britain 'but we'll work very hard with the children to set them up with careers in Canada'. 'Goodbye, Great Britain,' the Wall Street Journal editorialised in 1975. 'It was nice knowing you.'
Looks like it's going to be another fine day. Time (10:03) for a spot of breakfast. "Osteo-archaeologist"? — that's a new one (BBC Radio 4; where else?) Crikey. 10:26 and a steam train has just chuffered past, heading for Romsey. What a gloriously evocative sound.
Courtesy of the BBC's iPlayer, I'm trying the "Out of Africa" episode of the Incredible Human Journey but, with the constant jump-cutting, not to mention the witless background music, I fear my further acquaintance with Dr Alice Roberts is going to be truncated. As she talks about trackless wastes and heading to the nearest village for local help, I can't really bring myself to ignore the presence of the camera crew etc etc. Call it an unwilling suspension of disbelief. Call me an old curmudgeon.
Aah, the joy that is Spinal Tap and the silver anniversary tour. I'm getting old, Christa! Mind you, Quadrophenia dates back to before we even met. Still an amazing album.
Preparing humanity, if you please
How very singular. Meanwhile, I keep wondering when electronic books1 will reach my own tipping point, as it were. Yesterday, Roger showed me stuff via his Palm device but it wouldn't make for a comfortable reading experience. But here's a look at the latest Kindle 2 device. Not too shabby.
Well, for the last 58 minutes I've been listening to, and occasionally glancing at, that "Out of Africa" episode. Not bad, actually. Suddenly it's 11:39 and something in the birdy line is making a bit of a racket out in the garden. Where's the morning gone?
And, staying with things birdy, here's "Biggles" Mounce (I hope I had my seat belt fastened) at Booker airfield back in 1968:
Big Bro has obviously finished scanning his 70,000 aircraft slides, and now turned his attention to the occasional family shot. Here, for example, are my parents up in London with what was my second-favourite2 of Dad's many cars, his Jaguar 420:
It's odd. I found keeping track of the "Out of Africa" video a lot easier than I have just found following the twists and turns of the latest George Smiley murder play. Who dunnit? Beats me, chief. Though (spoiler alert!) he was played by G******y P****r.
And still they arrive...
Christa would have been absolutely thrilled to see this picture of our young fella. Thanks, John!
It's quite handy to be able to look away from some of the scenes in the "Asia" section of the Human Journey. I'm such a wuss. Reindeer blood as red wine? I think not.
On with my DVD cover artwork scanning — I've just started on the letter "U". Nearly there. It's 17:03 and still beautifully sunny.
And I'm now (17:56) a total convert to this amazing Human Journey TV series. I'm already part way through the "Europe" episode. Christa would have lapped this up avidly. It's somewhat reminiscent of just a couple of books I have; the relatively recent one I'm thinking of is Luigi Luca Cavalli-Sforza's 2000 book "Genes, peoples and languages" which is what you might call a non-osteo-oriented approach to exactly the same sort of tracking of ancient human migrations. Fascinating. Utterly fascinating. Without checking, by the way, I'm prepared to bet that the music is by whoever did the themes for "Coast". (Which she also liked very much.)
Later
Well, it's 21:42 and the interesting programme on infant language acquisition is coming to no particular conclusion. Other than to displace Chomsky, it seems. The unaccustomed flood of NZ emails (each with a large scanned photo attached) has now abated; Bro must be out feeding his cows, or mucking them out, or some such esoteric activity. The crockpot worked its usual magic. The surplus has been chilled down, and tomorrow's packed lunch sorted out — we're hoping for another walk, though I hope it's not going to be too hot. Time to retreat downstairs for a change of scene. And the dishes.
Priceless
But not, I think, in a good way:
Things have got very bad. Not only does the World Economic Forum invite public intellectuals such as Sharon Stone to Davos, but it holds award ceremonies. Angelina Jolie sits on a prestigious US foreign policy thinktank. Geri Halliwell is sent to Washington to lobby congressmen, while congressional committees have become ever more celebrity-obsessed since 1985, when Jane Fonda, Sissy Spacek and Sally Field were called as expert witnesses before a congressional hearing entitled "The Plight of the Family Farmer". Why? Because they had all played farm wives in movies.