2009 — 4 October: Sunday
A quiet evening of peaceful pottering about, some scanning, and a new "Monty Python" documentary on the BBC HD channel. Marred, in fact, only by the sad realisation that my bathroom radiator has now (two and a half years later) sprung exactly the same sort of gentle leak that meant a replacement when Junior's radiator got "ill" in the early days of my retirement. I have a plastic drip tray (aka an old ice cream container) in place, and have emailed my plumber chum. It occurs to me that the time really may have arrived to replace the rest of the radiators which are, after all, the finest technology that 1981 had to offer... Christa and I had planned this refurbishment shortly before she also got ill for the last time; I postponed all the upheaval (obviously). Poop.
A picture of the girl to cheer me up:
Incoming
Before I forget — thanks, Mr Postie. Brian J (highly) recommended the German title, and it's far too long since I've seen the Bruce Dern film, though I recall watching it in a cinema in St Albans in 1972 or 1973:
Time (00:40) for bed. I have a walk planned for tomorrow, and it's already tomorrow. G'night.
Sunnier than yesterday
It's eight hours later and I'm half-listening to tales of cancer patients using guided visualisation therapy in attempts to boost their immune systems. Good ol' NPR. I doubt many people could have been more positive than Christa. Perhaps that's why she stayed with us for 24 years after 1983? More things on heaven and earth, Horatio...
Time for my cuppa.
Back, just in time...
... to nip out for my next batch of crockpottery and some more fruit. The rain held off, and we tottered around Wherwell for a little over six miles. It's now 14:40 so I need to re-hit the road.
I'm not about to sign up and become a Twitter, but I spotted this while looking at the short extract from David Byrne's Bicycle Diaries on the NPR web site:
Great line from Racine's Phedre — as translated by Ted Hughes — when passion boils, reason evaporates. Written about love, it fits all.
Unconventional spelling of Phaedra, unless I miss my guess.
Mr Maconie is playing some odd music. Oh well, time for a bite to eat methinks. It's 18:27 and is looking a bit twilighty out there already. The cloud cover isn't helping, of course. I've just emailed my "Stockholm correspondent" who must be even more in the dark by now, I expect.
Round tuit ramblings
Back at the end of June 2002 (I know, I know, I really need a better system) I clipped a piece from the Guardian by Anne Fine about her Home Library project. I'm delighted to see it's still up and running as I really need to update my own book plates! I was shocked to remind myself that over 30% of the pupils in a Liverpool secondary school had fewer than six books in the home — not in the child's bedroom, but in the home!!!
I also clipped a "Doonesbury" strip from 24th June 2002 (though I invariably buy the annual compilations). I won't reproduce the four frames, but you'll be able to get the gist of this breakfast table exchange between Mike and his daughter Alex:
Mike: Alex, how come you never read the paper? It's important...
Alex: I do read it, Dad... I read the crime page every morning before you get up!
Mike: Crime page?
Alex: You know, where they list all the busts and trials and scandals... here it is!
Mike: Honey, this is the business section.
Alex: Oh. That must be why no one ever goes to jail.
Prescient as ever, our Garry Trudeau.
Karl Popper
I have a quote here by Wes Johnson about world leaders and the art of telling lies. I'm ashamed to discover that my Polytechnic-era book on Karl Popper has now fled my shelves. It's fair to say he was at odds with some of the orthodoxy of linguistic philosophy. For instance, he used to say it was a waste of time arguing about what is meant by "democracy". It's just a label given to a form of guvmint where institutions existed that enabled said guvmint to be removed without violence. "Tyranny", by contrast, named the sort of guvmint only removable by violence. Popper didn't mind people reversing these names and attaching them to some of the peoples' republics of the last fifty years or more, but would simply say he was in favour of what they called tyranny. Neat.
I'd better put the kettle on... it's nearly time for "Emma". Time I re-read it, too. Not my favourite Austen, but bad Austen is still better than almost anything else. Not bad; I think I'll watch it again tomorrow in hi-def. What a meddlesome wench young Emma is, to be sure.