Sold One, Bought One

I really can't remember whether I ever confirmed on here that we had actually sold our holiday rental flat, but we did, back in June. I veer between being really pleased to be shot of it and worrying that we let if go too cheaply but you know....too late now if we did.

 

And then we bought another one in Glasgow. Son No 2 will take up residence there at the end of the month and the OH and I will use it for shopping weekends (no not really, he's not that big a shopper), but the opera anyway, and overnighters before flying away on holiday and I can use it when I go to see my Subject Supervisor, and when I need to do research in nearby-ish Edinburgh.

 

I have to say I'm not, and never have been, comfortable at the idea that we own more than one property. But Son No 2 needs somewhere to live in the Central Belt and Glasgow is better than Edinburgh for us all for a whole bunch of reasons. And we're sick of paying rent for him.

 

We applied all the lessons we had learned from years of watching Kirsty and Phil, I spent hours trawling the Internet on a weekly basis for flats in Glasgow, registered with more property sites that you can never escape from, than you could shake a stick at and we ended up looking at six of which at least four would have been totally suitable.

 

We are not emotionally invested in this place. So it is the right size, at the right price in an OK location for what we want to do, and all we had to do was turn a key and walk in. Also buy furniture but that's another story and possibly, down the line, another post.

 

We took possession last week and we hope to move Son No 2 into it at the end of next week. Fingers crossed it all goes smoothly. No doubt if it doesn't I will at least be able to make a funny story of it.

The Confusing Question of the Tartan Stiletto.

Yesterday, on the way home from yet another trip to the Central Belt ( I know, you don't need to tell me ) we stopped for lunch at a place where there were newspapers to read. One of them published a picture like that above. It may even have been that exact picture. The shoes worn by Nicola Sturgeon to address the SNP Conference.

I had two immediate reactions.

One was to smile and say 'Oh, they're nice.'

One was to frown and think 'When did they ever publish a photograph of the shoes Alex Salmond wore to address the SNP Conference.

Patriarchy. Alive and Well throughout the British Media. Whatever people might tell you, the work of feminism is far from over.

Epidaurus

Mycenae only took up half a day and for the second half we went to Epidaurus. Often known as the birthplace  of medicine, apparently it would be more accurate to describe it as the birthplace of psychiatry, because of the holistic nature of the treatments that were undertaken. Whichever description you go for though, it has to be said that it is a beautiful place, perhaps the nicest natural setting for anything that we saw in Greece.

 

Part of the prescribed treatment for patients here was attending plays, which means that it had to have a theatre. It seems the acoustics are amazing - we did have to play a little game to demonstrate how amazing they are, but I'm afraid my attention had wandered by that point; of all the bossy guides we had during the week the one who took us to Mycenae and Epidaurus was the worst and I had lost patience with pandering to her by he time it came to her explanations of the acoustics.  I'm sorry I can't explain it to you; there again, if you're bothered, you cold always Google it.

 

Meanwhile here is a picture of part of the theatre. I hope it gives some idea of how beautiful the place is.

Can I Let Go Now?

I have been fighting off a cold for over a week now. If I'd been able to give in to it and let it rip, it would by now be nothing but a distant memory, but I couldn't. This was partly because the OH was yet again in London working so that I had to be up and about, feeding myself, and more importantly feeding the cats. Equally the builders have been in, building us a new room on the front of the house, which was another good reason for not curling up under the duvet for three days while my incipient whatever ran its course. I was not however up to much. Although I managed to bash out a couple of lemon drizzle cakes today ready for the OH's return. They sank, which my cakes never do, but that was par for the course today sadly. Everything I touched went west.

 

Well it's the weekend now, and the OH is home and the builders won't be back until Monday so you'd think I could retire to bed and give in to the germs. But I can't because tomorrow we need to go to town and on Sunday it's Remembrance Day and on Monday the builders will be back and in any case we need to go to Glasgow next week for an unknown length of time.

 

Perhaps if I manage a couple of afternoons over the weekend doing nothing much and keeping warm I'll be full of the joys of spring by the time we catch the ferry again. Maybe.

Mycenae

After Delphi, Mycenae was the site I was most looking forward to, and although it didn't quite have the oomph of Delphi for me, it was certainly an amazing place. The OH, who is deeply into the Neolithic, understandably so given where we live, did his usual irritating thing about it being 'Modern Rubbish' because it is a Bronze Age Site. But I didn't care. The so called Tomb of Agamemnon was absolutely amazing. It's all very well saying its the same basic shape as Maes Howe here in Orkney, but let's be honest, you have to get into Maes Howe by crawling through a tunnel and one man could touch the ceiling of the chamber if he sat on the shoulders of another. You enter the tomb of Agamemnon through a doorway that positively dwarfs you, because it is eighteen feet high  and inside the chamber towers up to  forty four feet at its highest. While we were in there someone with more vanity than manners decided to demonstrate the acoustics by singing. I would say bursting into song, but whatever it was she was singing was more stately than that. Showing Off is what she was doing, and we didn't appreciate it one bit.

 

After the tomb we went to the Citadel Site, through the famous Lion Gate. The gate has been heavily restored, but the lions have no heads since it can't be decided whether they were originally lions or lionesses. The case can be argued both ways apparently. And we couldn't get into the actual citadel building remains because they are restoring that, apparently they are doing a reconstruction so that in a few years time visitors will be able to see what a Bronze Age Attic Palace interior actually looked like. Sounds like an interesting project, although I doubt I'll rush back to see it. There'll no doubt be pictures on the Web in due course.

 

And talking of pictures, here are a few photos of the tomb and citadel site

 

 

The Entrance to the 'Tomb of Agamemnon'

 

The domed 'beehive' ceiling.

 

 

The Lion Gate

 

 

One of the Grave Circles - Plus a view of the plain. The citadel dominated all the country around

 

 

Right up at the top is where they're doing the reconstruction - it would have been a long climb on a hot day, so perhaps not being able to go was a blessing in disguise!

 

Also last week....

 

We were in Fife. Again. I didn't really think I could face going south yet again, but it was a bit of a research trip for me. I spent the first day with a good friend, and her visiting Canadian sister in law. Not a research day obviously but very enjoyable for all that.  We went to Dovecote Studios, where we watched people weaving large tapestries and saw an exhibition of Afghanistani gems and jewellery. As I said when she suggested it - jewels and textiles - my name's all over it. I talked myself out of buying some gorgeous topaz ear-rings, also some slightly cheaper and equally gorgeous small cups that had bits of lace included in their  making. The scones in their café were OK, but had a touch too much bicarb in them.

 

Later on we indulged ourselves in the Valvona and Crolla café in Jenners and I may have bought a few treats as well on the way out. Mainly for someone else's birthday it must be said.

 

It was a lovely day (although I still rather regret passing on the ear rings). What with that and Mr Moffat the following day - well two good ones out of three ain't bad. As for the third - watch this space.

 

 

 

 

 

Poets Pub

This a Very Famous Painting. If you move in circles where C20 Scottish painting or poetry is a known quantity that is. It normally lives in the Scottish National Portrait Gallery, although at present it's 'on tour' in Montrose.

 

It shows almost all the great C20 poets and is by the Scottish painter Alexander Moffat. Sadly it doesn't show my particular poet although he is not the only one missing - in any case it was never meant to be a picture of the Flower of Contemporary Scottish Poetry. It's still quite a good collection though.

 

Now long term readers of this blog may remember a while back when my Director of Studies promised me that doing my Ph D was going to be a time of Joyous Opportunities. I have to say that to date the joyous opportunities have been conspicuous by their absence rather than their presence. But last week a day of joyous opportunity finally arrived.

 

I got to talk to Alexander Moffat. In person. Just him and me. About his picture and the people in it (and some of the people not in it!) and painting in the 1950s and 60s in general and it was great.