Bedside Books

I have been ploughing my way through a rather unpleasant and very long forensic thriller recently that is a bedside book, but I gave myself a few days off that to read one of the others - Red Shift by Alan Garner. I bought this ages ago at the odd Birsay Books, our visit to which was documented here . Then I read the first few pages, wasn't gripped and left it to one side while I read other stuff. And somehow never got back to it, until now. 

When it first came out I remember a review which said it was 'difficult to read because of the disjointed conversations which didn't clarify who was speaking' and occasionally when the conversations went on for pages I understood what they meant. It also said the book was Romeo and Juliet through time and space, and I can sort of see why the reviewer said that without necessarily agreeing whole heartedly. It's the sort of reductive comment I tend to deplore; I remember an English lecturer once describing Gaskell's North and South to me as Pride and Prejudice in Victorian costume which missed so much of the point that I couldn't; be bothered to discuss it. 

Red  Shift was weird, but it was also wonderful, and honestly I don't think you can appreciate it on a first reading so I shall reread it another time now that I have some understanding of the structure and themes behind it. For what we would  now class as a YA book, it was a challenging read, technically and emotionally, but worth it. 

Baking Subscription June - Mocha Swiss Roll

Would you believe I have never made a swiss roll before? Everyone has always wittered on about how difficult they are to do and, given that I'm not a huge fan of the texture of the sponge that is used in them I've never cared to risk it. But the baking box this month was Swiss Roll, so a Swiss Roll I made. 

Here it is with a coat of chocolate ganache

But this being the Baking Club naturally there was more decorating faff. My attempt at drizzling white chocolate over the top was fairly awful.  This was partly me, and partly the bag the white chocolate drops came in, the shape made it pretty difficult to cut a  small hole of the smallness necessary to obtain a drizzle, rather than a rush. 

That said, when I cut it open ....

....how's that for a first attempt?

and here is a slice on a plate just before we sampled it. It was very nice. 

And if you've ever been put off trying to bake a swiss roll because people say it's difficult - it's really not. Give it a go. 

Saturday Slaughters

 

I wasn't looking forward to reading this. Sharon Bolton also writes, or used to write, as S J Bolton, in which guise she had a series of police - almost - procedurals which were based on truly bizarre and grotesque ideas and after the second one I decided I couldn't take any more and stopped looking for them in the library. So I was a bit nervous about this one. 

But I needn't have been. It's a thriller set on the Falkland's, revolving around three main characters. Catrin, who was married to Ben, and whose children died in a terrible car accident, Rachel, Catrin's best friend, who was responsible for it, and Callum, a former soldier who served in the Falklands campaign and now suffers from PTSD (which I thought was a bit shoehorned in for the sake of fashion. Other people probably thought differently.) The PTSD to my mind didn't make Callum any more interesting as a character, he could have stood as worthwhile without it. as for plot, there are children going missing on the islands and although the local police chief plays this down and insists the disappearances are all tragic accidents Callum is convinced there is a serial killer of children living in the community. Then Rachel's youngest son goes missing and the police find Catrin's diary in which she has sworn revenge on Rachel and ....

There you go. I really enjoyed this actually. A tad too much stuff about the Falklands campaign for my taste but I suppose if she had gone to all the trouble and expense of visiting she might as well make use of everything she found there. The three main characters all held my interest for different reasons, the psychology of their actions was usually credible and always plausible, there were twists and turns galore, and a heart stopping ending - one of those where you go 'Yes, of course, why did I NOT see that coming?

We do not meet again until September by which time I will probably have forgotten a lot of  the discussable detail of the book, but at least I've written it up here so that I won't totally forget. Given that we have an almost three month break I thought I might also read over the summer the book selected for what I refer to as The Posh Reading Group, where they generally go in for literary fiction of the sort I suspect I do not care for. The current pick though is a historical novel called The Lady of the Ravens and it looks   like it won't be too heavy so I might treat myself to it on Kindle and then tip my toe into the waters of the Other Group in September. 

Return to Planet of The Eighties

 Really, what were we thinking? 

In the need of something mindless and soothing to do yesterday I remembered  a part knit sweater that I have been thinking for a long time I should pull out, and so I pootled off to see if I could find it. 

Here's the pattern. 

See what I mean? Upon investigation I discovered I was further through than I thought, which I suppose is why I have never actually frogged it before; full of good intentions about finishing it one day. A cool clear look at it yesterday meant realising that even if I did ever finish it, I certainly couldn't/wouldn't wear it, so despite having a completed front and two sleeves I set to work pulling it out. 

It didn't occur to me to take pictures until after the front was gone but here are the two sleeves 

Sadly, for these purposes, every time I cha,nged colour I had twisted the wool twice 'just to be safe' so it was a longer job  than I had  anticipated,and not quite as soothing as I had thought it would be. However, when I had finished this is what I had

and the intention is to turn it into blankets for premature babies. I should get three and maybe four out of that lot. And I discover that a stocking stitch preemie blanket with garter stitch borders is quite a soothing knit! 

Retirement Celebrations.

These were muted and were a game of two halves. We had chosen somewhere to go for lunch but in the event the offering, as they say these days,  wasn't very exciting and once the OH had had a wrap and I had had a not very satisfying cheese salad roll we decamped elsewhere for afters. 

These were the afters. 

Mine was the chocolate one, the OH's was salted caramel. And no I couldn't quite finish it. 

Today has thus far proved a very frustrating introduction to the rest of his life as he has been trying to set up his old smartphone for me. The new sim-card arrived and that was fine, but the process of trying to add apps is driving us both demented. I have a comprehensive list of site passwords, but no-one ever told me I would need to remember the e-mail address associated with each one. So these are not on the list, except in one case, where it turned out to be wrong. Such are the joys of the electronic age. 

Really all I want to do now is go and knit miles of garter stitch to calm myself down but my afternoon is already booked for boxing up piles of stuff to take to a charity shop in Stromness tomorrow which is actually accepting donations in the shop two days a week. All the stuff is in boxes already, but it's going to take some redistribution to get them to a stage where they can be taped up for easy transportation. 

Bunny Happiness scale is somewhere between 1 and 2. 

I daren't think what my blood pressure reading is. 

Books to Read Poster No 28

 

Yup, it probably looks like a coffin, but it's a wardrobe, and if I mumble in a slightly irritated fashion that this was a case of One for the price of Seven, you will realise that what we're dealing with is The Chronicles of Narnia. I read these a a child, and mostly loved them and we have them in the house because I bought them for the boys when they were little. Can't remember if either of them ever read them though.

I rather dreaded revisiting them to be honest, and they do display all the faults that I anticipated. Heavy handed Christian allegory, all the implicit sexist and militaristic attitudes you'd expect from a man of Lewis' generation, and at times a cloying sentimentality. That said, these are largely attributable to the times they were written and you have to make allowances. 

On the plus side, they are still exciting and very tense in places and I don't think a child would pick up on the faults that I do. Interestingly though, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, which was my favourite as a child, I discover is still my favourite, and The Last Battle, which I was dreading re-reading because I hated it as a child, I still hate. Well, hate is (too) strong a word. But I don't see me reading it ever again. 

There were other interesting things too. The mutual influence of Tolkien and Lewis is very detectable to anyone who has read both. And a sad thing I picked up on was the way the alcoholism of Lewis' brother seeped in to the storytelling in the last two books. I doubt he was even aware of it, personal experience slips under a writer's radar more often than I used to think could be the case, but there are incidents and descriptions that leave no doubt that Lewis lived only too close to an alcoholic. 

Overall, an interesting trip down Memory Lane. 

The OH has been baking again ...

 Possibly he is preparing for his enforced retirement which  is tomorrow. Or maybe he's just trying to perfect his macaroon making. 

Whatever the reason he made some macaroons recently and I have to say they are very lovely. I'm sure I must have recorded his previous attempts on here. They do get better each time, although I'm not sure he can improve on the latest lot. 

Here's a pic

Then he bought some cherries and made ice cream with them. And that was delicious too. 

I Like Coffee, I Like Tea ....

 but it's the coffee we're concerned with just now. 

Orkney boasts its own coffee roastery and we occasionally buy their beans, but as they're (obviously) not carried in the local Tesco it can be a bit tricky remembering to go where we can get hold of them. So much easier just to pick a bag of beans from the supermarket shelf and chuck it in the trolley.  Which is partly why I recently took out one of their subscriptions. 

For six months you get two packets of coffee a month sent through the post, different ones depending on what they are roasting at the time, and our first package arrived this morning. 

As you can see there are also some not-quite-tasting notes. We're looking forward to trying the coffee out. 

Here's a random photo of The Cat Lorenzo. We came home from somewhere the other day and he decided  to explore the inside of the car. He says he much prefers this freestyle wandering round the front to being confined to a cat carrier in the back.  

And on our walk last evening I took this photo and I'm posting it simply because I.m really quite proud of it. 

 

Bedside Books

This was Becoming Superman by J Michael (Joe) Straczinski and it was a Christmas gift from Son No 1. My suspicion that he bought it because he wanted to read it himself was confirmed recently when I told him I was reading it and he said 'I must borrow it from you sometime'. That's OK, it's not the first time one of us has bought the other a book with the idea of borrowing it later - shared interests and all that. 

Joe Straczinski has had a long and successful career as a writer of film, tv, and comic books/graphic novels, but we know him mainly as the creator, writer, showrunner and general overlord of Babylon 5, a science fiction tv series that aired in the mid-1990s. Everyone in our house was a big fan. Son No 1 and I even went to a huge B5 convention in Blackpool in 1996 which featured most of the cast and many of the production staff. Organisationally it was a total and utter shambles, but we still had a good time. 

I won't lie, this book is not an easy read. JMS was brought up, if you can apply the term, in a dysfunctional family headed by a violent, controlling and abusive alcoholic who regularly beat his wife (a former teenage prostitute) almost to death, and reduced her to a state where she  was too scared to either leave him, or protest when he used his fists/feet/belt on their children. I found the early stages so distressing to read that I had to ration myself to one, or sometimes, two chapters a day to get through it. 

I am amazed that JMS survived his childhood*, and even more that from such horrible beginnings he forged such a successful  career. 

*physically at least. Emotionally it has to be said that he comes across as a fairly damaged individual unable to make, indeed terrified of making, close personal relationships. 

One for the fans or the psychologists amongst us, rather than the general reader, I feel. 

RIP A Good Intention

 

A few years ago when I was doing Project 60 one of the things I tried was toe up socks. And this is the toe up sock that I did. I found it so awful to do, that I put it this completed  one to one side meaning to do the other one 'one day'. The 'one day' arrived a couple of months back, but when I dug it out I discovered that actually the one sock I had done had taken up something more than half my yarn and that ergo, making  a matching sock was not going to be possible. 

I could say I was heartbroken by this. I was not. I very happily pulled the sock out, and the yarn is now back in stash waiting for me to discover what it wants to be instead of a large bright unfinished pair of toe up socks. 

See, not everything I try is a success! 

Tupper and Laurier

were the names given to the latest pairs of socks knitted for son no 1 and they went off yesterday. He's getting two pairs at once because I shall be otherwise engaged in  July so I thought it as well to Be Prepared and get a bit ahead of myself. As it happens it cost the same to send two pairs as it has previously cost me to send one, so he may be getting a few more double deliveries. 

Both pairs done in West Yorkshire Spinners Signature 4 ply and in theory will therefore wash in the washing machine but I don't think I'd put that to the test with the black pair at least. These were just 'vanilla' socks but the pair underway for  August have a pattern and I am very pleased with how they are turning out. 

Level Zero

 Life at Level Zero is not quite normal life as we knew it before the pandemic, but it's very close. Majorly, for me, it means I can entertain at home again. Don't get carried away with thoughts of 5 course dinners or luxury lunches, it's strictly coffee and cake. And considering there was only one person coming on Tuesday I may have got a it carried away  ....

It was fun though. And see that decoration on the buns? it's the left over filling from the Viennese biscuits which I put n the freezer and then remembered about. Somebody give me a medal. 

Saturday Slaughters

 So the SS group had its last meeting before the summer break on Saturday and, fingers crossed on lots of people, it was also the last meeting by Skype. Personally, as I may have said before, I prefer the Skype to the real thing since it is less bother and more comfortable, but I do get that lots of people prefer to meet in person.

The book was The Dentist by Tim Sullivan, who has a successful career apparently, as a scriptwriter for film and TV and this was his first foray into fiction. It was self published which in  an established writer in other genres was a bit of a red flag but nonetheless I approahed it with an open mind. I think. 

And I found it incredibly frustrating. There were the makings of a really good book in there. The plot was strong, there was a bit of a wist, you couldn't tell whodunit, and there wee some good and even some likeable characters, in it. 

And that's the good news. 

The bad news is twofold. Firstly, although Sullivan thanked both an editor and a proof reader in his acknowledgements  neither had done their job particularly well. Bits of the book were very very repetitive. There were numerous grammatical errors, the most common of which was changing tenses between two clauses in a sentence. And presumably if either the editor or the proof reader had been on the ball they would have noticed that a character first introduced as Daniel became Alan several pages later and stayed Alan throughout the rest of the book. 

Secondly, I've commented before on how people starting to write police procedurals these days have to have detectives with a 'thing'. Sullivan's detective, George Cross  (and yes, really!) suffers from Asperger's syndrone. This is established by overly long and constant descriptions of behaviours plus many many reminders of his inability to pick up on other peoples body language, or to feel empathy with anyone. A prime example of the horrors of tell, not show. Also Sullivan painted himself into a corner (wrote himself into a corner?) because to make George bearable to the reader he had occasionally to give him sympathetic or empathetic feelings towards others. I think it is probably impossible to write an accurate  central fictional character with Asperger's and make them someone the reader likes: I could be wrong, but even if I am  Sullivan is not the man for the job. 

There is a second book in what is obviously planned to be a series, and it would be interesting to see whether and/or by how much the Asperger's aspect of Cross gets watered down. I suspect the condition  may end up being simply a series of more or less irritating behavioural tics, but who knows? 

Mother's Day Jigsaw

 

Completed - it was harder than it looks. 

Well that was a nice day

The weather was lovely yesterday , warm, sunny, no wind. I'd arranged to drop off my pile of no longer wanted jigsaw puzzles at the library, which seemed very grateful at the prospect and the OH suggested that, as we were going to town we could do our not-quite-daily- walk somewhere on West Mainland. It seemed like a good idea, so off we set. 

We started off at the Broch of Gurness, which is where I fell in love with Orkney, twenty odd years ago. (I;ve since rather fallen out of love with it, but Gurness remans one of my favourite places ) so I've got dozens of picture of it already. I was restrained  yesterday but u I took a few at the broch itself. 

I don't  normally take a picture from this angle, but the flowers were pretty

The inside stair of the broch

Way back in early spring  I took a picture of this self same nest  and I assume the self same fulmar although that's open to doubt I suppose

We then drove back along the road that leads to the Broch a little way and got out and scrambled down to a beach which, in sixteen years of living here, we have never visited before. It was wide and long and sandy and nice to walk on, but  I wouldn't rush back because it was also very smelly. 

The OH improving the view

Yachts on the Sound

Lok at all that sand - also how blue the sea is!

Razor clam shell, known locally as spoots. I  didn't take  a photo of the dead crabs.

Sandy Ripples

After we'd walked the breadth and half the length of the beach we went to a place called Fern Gully. This is mainly  famous for housing meerkats which we passed on, but we went to the tea room where I had a late lunch of a cream tea. It was very nice and I was impressed by their scone. Not often I  say that. 

        

Also courtesy of Fern Gully we welcomed a new member of the family. 

I call  him - what else? - Stark.He even howls. 

Bedside Books/Books to Read Poster No 27

 Yes, I'm double dipping. Here's the picture from the poster

So, having seen that, no-one will be surprised to hear that this one was A Game of Thrones, the first book in G  R R Martin's (as yet and probably always to be) unfinished fantasy series A Song of Ice and Fire.

I was in this party a long time. Not quite from the beginning as my copies of Game of Thrones and Clash of Kings (which was number two) were both paperbacks, but by the the time of number three A Storm of Swords I was waiting with cash in hand to get my sticky mitts on it in hardback as soon as I could. Storm of Swords was perhaps the best of them, after that the quality of the writing and the stories dropped like a stone. I bought the next two, although it was a long wait, five years for number four, and another six for number five. So number five came out in 2011 and number seven has been promised as being almost imminent ever since.  So that's  another ten years and no sign of it .... I no longer care. Number five was so dreadful that I swore the man would never get another penny of my money and if the final volumes were published tomorrow I doubt I would bestir myself to borrow them from the library. I just don't care any more, but there again some people came along and did a TV series that gave us the end of the story so I don't need thousands of pages of violently pornographic, dull and repetitive prose to discover what happened to my favourite, and in fact not so favourite, characters.

In a way re-reading this after so long was a bit of a sad experience. Before he got carried away by his own publicity and grew a head so big he presumably walks through doorways sideways Martin could write and he was telling a good story with strong characters and storylines.  He didn't shy away from having the good guys come last, now and then,  although his claim to be subverting every fantasy trope there ever was came adrift when it turned out, after many trials and tribulations that  the overlooked bastard son  was in fact the long lost and rightful King. How many times have we seen that one? 

On a related but lighter note, I saw with some amusement over the past few years that all the shops in Edinburgh which carried A Game of Thrones merchandise, and there were a lot of them, all majored on items bearing the Stark branding. Wolves, long memories and a wish for self rule - I wonder why that spoke more loudly there than the other Houses of Westeros? 

Some non-knitting crafting

 

It's several years since I bought the magazine that had this Scandi Christmas Tag kit on the front. I was away at the time and I thought I would while away some spare moments whipping up a few labels in time for Christmas. Ha, ha. And then of course life intervened in the shape of eye problems and Ph Ds and so on. I'm trying to pick up my cross stitch again a bit, although its relatively slow speed compared to knitting plus the need to see quite well have been putting me off. But there you go,  these at least are done. Whether I will remember where I have put them come Christmas is another matter entirely!