That was Serendipitous

On my last solo trip south BO (before the operation) I fumbled my way to York where, amongst other things, I had arranged to meet a friend in the afternoon, and as I was a bit early I popped into Waterstones (as you do, especially if you live over a 100 miles from your nearest branch) and leafed through the TLS for a short while. It included an extract from a new novel (Circe) by an author I hadn't  previously come across (Madeline Miller), which I really enjoyed, and I made a mental note to try and get hold of it. And then forgot all about it. 

Fast forward several months and I'm spending the day with my DD friends and the OH is off into Leeds and he asks if there's anything I'd like. I remember all about Circe, and I'm out of reading material with me for the way back so I suggest he gets me that. There's a phone call in the middle of the afternoon to say they haven't got Circe, but they have got Miller's  earlier book A Song for Achilles and shall he get that instead. And I said yes. 

A Song for Achilles is the story of Achilles (yes, really!) told from the point of view of his friend Patroclus, and it starts long before the events of the Iliad but carries on to include them, right up until Achilles death and its aftermath. And if you're familiar with the Iliad and wondering how Patroclus manages to tell us all that - well there's a neat ploy used for that. It's obvious, but its skilfully done. 

I enjoyed the book very much although I thought having three pages at the beginning with quotes from starry eyed reviewers was perhaps over-egging the pudding; it was good, but it wasn't that good! When I'd finished it I checked the library for Circe, but they only had it on CD, so I splashed out on a Kindle version and read it last week. 

I thought it a huge step up from the Achilles book. Exciting, educational (there were lots of things about Circe here that I never knew), thought provoking and beautifully written.  Miller's prose flows in a beautifully controlled way; she can relax, move and excite the reader equally well and she has a depth of imagination that helps her see, and show, the reality of the emotions behind the mythic scenarios with which she deals, and from there to the deeper questions of the nature and benefits of humanity versus divinity. 

If you like this sort of thing, and you haven't already read them, they're worth checking out. 

We went to Wick

Wick is generally a place for passing through rather than visiting, which is no doubt a burden and a sorrow to the Caithness Tourist Board, but the Scottish Opera's Highlights tour was  on in Wick, so to Wick we naturally went.

This necessitated an overnight stay, since the ferries stop running long before the concert would be over, and the OH, naturally, booked Ackergill Tower. It was 'the only room available' within a reasonable distance of central Wick. Apparently. I was dubious about this, because I know full well that the OH has hankered after a stay in the very posh Ackergill Tower for many years. However a friend who lives in Wick assures me that in fact accommodation there is currently at a premium because the town is full of construction workers who are busy with the giant wind farm that's going up locally.  And as I don't think the OH suborned him to say so, I have chosen to believe that the Ackergill Tower was in fact our only option. 

So this is what it looks like

and this was our room. I've had bigger rooms in a Premier Inn

This is the view from our bedroom window, complete with rainbow!

and this is where they serve breakfast

a few shots in the grounds

First impressions weren't good as the receptionist, camping out in an office because the reception area proper was being refurbished, had obviously done what she considered to be her quota of listening to what guests actually said for the day, and our room was a long and tiring climb up on the second floor. The interior of the tower is quite dark and full of dark old furniture, and dark old pictures of dubious quality. However our room was warm and comfortable,  the bed was great and the shower in the en-suite easy to operate, powerful and hot. We had a great view from our window and there were multifarious lounges, games rooms etc to use had we had the time. The breakfast room was lovely, and the breakfast choice very good, It's a shame I can never manage more than a pastry and a bowl of cereal, but the OH makes up for it with his full Scottish breakfast. The service was quick and attentive without being servile or intrusive. I don't think the positives quite made it worth the humungous amount of money we paid but they  came close.

We had dinner with the aforementioned friend, and here are our desserts

chocolate fondant - the OH

crème brulee with strawberries - me 

and lemon tart - the friend. 

The concert was fine, one excellent singer, two OK to good and one who we didn't like at all without quite being able to put our fingers on why. Here's a publicity shot, from Herald Scotland

We did feel the repertoire was largely rather obscure for an introduction to opera, but getting the balance between the popular tunes for the complete novices and interesting stuff that will be new to people who are familiar with a lot of opera must be tricky. It all made for an enjoyable night away of the sort we haven't bothered with for ages because of my eyesight and apart from a bit of a choppy trip back, it was all lovely. 

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Knitting Catch Up (1)

I was browsing the blog last night (sometimes it cheers me up, sometimes it just reminds me of things we've done, sometimes it's just something mindless to do because I can't quite bring myself to switch off the laptop and go to bed) and realised that it is a L-O-N-G time since I posted any knitting and it's not that I haven't got stuff finished, even though I was struggling to see sometimes. So quickly for today

some preemie baby hats for the Bonnie Babies charity

flip top fingerless mittens with cute sheep buttons - these were for a gift 

 Son No 2 modelling a very nice jumper; I originally made it for myself from a basic pattern into which I plugged a pattern for the front. Sadly the pattern I chose was distinctly unwearable by the well endowed so I was forced to give it away to someone who doesn't have that problem. Luckily he was delighted with it.  

Socks - pattern is Down the Rabbit Hole  and the yarn is from a now-defunct company called Gothsocks. Also made as a gift and happily I have several more of their skeins stashed away and one day I'm going to make a pair of these for myself.  

Latin American style wrap for a 46cm doll

And finally for today, two washcloths (they're a thing in America) knitted as gifts and to use up a stray ball of cotton yarn that I had. 

More as the days go by, but not tomorrow. There is plenty of other stuff to write about - and anyway tomorrow we are going away - but only for something slightly less than 24 hours. 

100 Books to Read POster - No. 8

Go on, go on, guess!

Gold star if you said The Mill on the Floss.

I have a very ambivalent relationship with this book. For years there was a copy on my mother's  bookshelves, and for some reason as I grew up, although I never read it, I assumed I knew what it was about. Quite where I got this impression I don't know, because certainly it was a rare day when my mother and I discussed a book, and it  never happened before I was a grown up. I eventually had to read it when I did my MA and discovered, surprise, surprise, apart from the ending, I had absolutely no idea what it was about at all! I do remember though, that I really enjoyed it; reading it, thinking about it, writing the module essay on it.

So I was pleased to see it on the 100 books poster and I was looking forward to re-reading it. I gave most of my MA texts away long ago, and didn't really want to buy it again, so was delighted to find it out on the library shelves.  (I am convinced that when they see me coming certain members of the library staff hurry away from the counter into their little office space and cower behind the door lest I approach them with  a hopeful smile and yet another book request which necessitates a visit to the stacks.)

Sadly re-reading it was not the easy joy I had anticipated and I had to renew the loan  three times to get through it. The story is still interesting, the characters are still compelling, but oh! how the woman does go on. And on. And on. It was also very clear to me on this reading, although not previously, how immature Eliot's style still was at the point she wrote this book.  Her arch comments to the reader intrude in a tale that would be better without them; there is no need for her to underline her points in this way, especially when the point she is underlining she has probably covered two or three times already. Someone should have taught her that Less is More before she wrote the opening lines. There is the occasional glimpse of a leavening humour, but it is very occasional; she was a solemn, sombre, driven woman and although I  perfectly appreciate the personal and social reasons for her being like that it does rather blight her work at times. 

Verdict on The Mill on the Floss - Regrettably - A Miss (this time around)

Brahn Boots

Having bemoaned the fact recently that there was nowhere to buy walking/hiking boots in Orkney ,  I was happy to be proved wrong when strolling past what is our best shoe shop in Kirkwall yesterday. I saw these through the window and today when we were back in town (honestly, twice in two days, but it's carpet related, so that of course explains everything!) I went in and bought a pair. And to keep the podiatrist and my foot happy, I got a pair of supportive insoles to go in them as well. 

We have carried on walking every weekend since my op., and the last twice we have been a bit constrained by my lack of suitable footwear to walk over fields (such a shame! ) or along clifftop paths and so on, so it's good to know we don't have to take that into account any longer. And assuming that the weather is kind tomorrow I'll be giving these a first outing. Not too far as they need to be 'broken in'. But they felt very comfortable in the shop and I'm pleased with them so far. 

The Decorator is In the House

Back in February we contacted our usual decorator asking him to come and re-decorate the place that was Son No 2's bedroom and which we are (very) slowly turning into a craft room for me. I had chosen the wallpaper I wanted, and that was a saga in itself, necessitating three trips to the supplier as nothing that I spent hours so carefully choosing seemed to be actually available when we tipped up to order it, and apart from that it was just a bit of painting. He eventually texted back to say he could come and do it 'at the end of June'. Last week we had a text to say he would be coming yesterday.

Accordingly I got myself up at what felt like the crack of dawn, which was all just so much wasted effort, as he didn't arrive until 12.45. In fact we had given him up for the day just before that and took a needful trip to the doctors surgery and the  post office. Looking across Water Sound on the way back, what should we see in the distance on our drive, but his van. Naturally foot down and a mad dash across barrier number four ensued to get home before he gave up on us and went away again.

Can't grumble about his work rate though. In no time at al he had undercoated all the woodwork and done a first coat on the ceiling and he left, promising to be with us again 'tomorrow'. Which is now today. 

Once again I have dragged myself out of bed at an hour to which I am normally  oblivious. Once again he has not put in the anticipated early appearance. And now not only do I feel awful because I have not had enough sleep, the smell of paint is also curdling my stomach. Unfortunately it is too wet and cold to open the windows to help  get rid of it. The wet is also putting me off the idea of a walk in the fresh air which would surely help, but it may come to that as there is more painting to be done today. 

It had just better be worth it. That's all I'm saying. 

Life just got a bit out of hand

So it's been a few days longer than I expected since I last posted. It's amazing how life takes over when you can see again and start to do stuff!

So the big news I suppose is that I have bee to see my Director of Studies about recommencing the Ph D and I'll be starting again on 1st October. I haven't missed it nearly as much as I thought I would, which is a good thing, but  I do want to get it finished and done with so that I can look about for different things to do, that may be just as interesting, even if slightly less intellectually challenging.

The Dark Lord of University Gardens was not mentioned by me at all and happily only in passing by her , and that was  in tandem with the other external supervisor, so that was good news. We'll be reviewing where I'm at and then planning where to go. I'm a bit reluctant to look at what I've previously written because I suspect I will find some of it pretty dire, but who knows? anyway needs must. 

My new glasses finally arrived today so now it's a case of trying to get used to changing them over when needed. I'm sure it will be second nature in no time. 

We were away for the weekend, doing another of our madcap dashes to Leeds. This necessitated putting the cats in a cattery for the first time ever, and I felt terrible about it. They're so used to being able to wander in and out of the house at will so that putting them into even a generous sized cage seemed inhumane in the extreme. They didn't look particularly happy when we went to pick them up, but that said they didn't sulk or misbehave once they got home,  and apart from being a bit clingy for the first couple of days, seemed unmarked by the experience. So although it's not ideal I will be OK about leaving them there again, although first choice would still be to find someone who would come here and feed them while we're away.

While I was seeing my Dorothy Dunnett reading friends the OH managed to pass the time enjoyably, spilt almost equally between the Early Music Shop in Saltaire and the Lego shop in Leeds. He didn't buy anything in the Early Music Shop (we're thinking of buying and learning to play the lute 'after the Ph D' ) but he did spend a considerable amount in the Lego shop, although some of it was on presents for other people. I am trying to get my Canadian Christmas stuff organised really early this year so that I can send it International Economy aka by boat. Because sending it airmail is eye wateringly expensive and I can't help but think every year that for the price of the postage they could have had much nicer presents. Ah well, it's just one of the minor inconveniences of having family who live abroad I suppose. . 

Sing ho! for the life of a bear

Obviously I am still in post-Winnie-the-Pooh mode, but also very cheerful. I am just back from my post op check up and eye test at the optometrists and everything is tickety-boo. New glasses ordered for distance and reading, and they should be here in about a week. 

Optometrist says I will give up wearing the distance ones eventually as I get used to not needing them to see really. I an equally certain that I won't. I've worn glasses since I was 7, I'm too used to having the comfort of them as a barrier between me and the rest of the world, also without them I look in the mirror and see rather too much of my mother.

But really - who cares? For the first time in my life today I could see what I was doing when I put my make up on (because this was the first time I'd worn it since the op. What can I say? I don't get out much! ) For the first time in my life I could read the optician's chart without glasses, and not just the big first letter but really quite a long way through. And more to the point for the first time in my life I could choose frames for glasses and know what they would look like without having to peer into the hideous magnifying mirror that shows up every blemish on your complexion even while it gives you only a blurry idea of what you will actually look like with the intended frames. 

This afternoon I'm going out for a celebratory hot chocolate and a piece of cake. Today is a good day. 

100 Books to Read Poster - Number 7

I have to admit that the Grand Plan of reading one book from each line has faltered somewhat. The title from line six I came to a shuddering halt with very early on, and the line seven one I am making some progress with, although very slowly - so slowly in fact that I have twice had to renew it at the library. Although to be fair I did borrow it before the eye op., so there was some time there when I couldn't read at all.

Anyway in an attempt to kickstart further progress I jumped to a quick read from line eight and here is the picture.

And the name of the author rather gives the game away - the book(s) were the Winnie the Pooh collection. I'm really not sure why these should feature on a list of one hundred 'must read' books, but feature they did and there they were, childhood copies still on my shelf, although the early pages somewhat vandalised by my sister and a set of felt tip pens. So  re-read them.  

It was a strange experience, partly because Pooh (along with Piglet) has become a bit of a Facebook meme, and there's a whole lot of other books that have been piled on top of the Winnie the Pooh experience, to say nothing of the rather regrettable Disney versions. So going back to the original comes as a bit of a surprise. 

For a start, which Winnie the Pooh character are you? Everyone has worked out surely which of the animals in the 100 acre wood they most identify with. And who their friends and family are most like? I have a son who is a Wol and a son who is a Piglet and I have for years identified myself with Eeyore, who I thought was a bit lonely, a bit introverted but who Soldiered On because that was what you did. Books and the internet have encouraged us to see Eeyore as a sufferer form depression and that was something else he and I had in common. Or so I thought. 

But it's no such thing. Eeyore is a miserable self obsessed old git who spends all his time trying to guilt trip everyone around into being nice to him, without doing anything to deserve it. He's not depressed, he's not hard done by, he's a lazy, misanthropic (not quite the word since we're talking about animals but you know what I mean) loner who seems to have a mission in life to spread gloom and misery. And if you don't believe me, you can always have a quick re-read yourself and check it out. 

Quite a lot of these characters aren't nearly as nice as you remember them as being, but in all fairness Pooh and Piglet at least struggle with their weaknesses and generally overcome them. If there's a  message in the books, and given when they were written there has to be a message, it is to be nice to other people and forgive their little foibles, remembering that you probably have a fair number of annoying little foibles of your own. 

And of course they're funny. Not very funny, except very occasionally. But funny enough. 

Verdict on Winnie the Pooh/The House at Pooh Corner - A hit.