Summit

Coast Summit Meeting, Statement, and Day Out

Coast Summit Meeting
Why "Summit", I wonder. It seems to be nothing to do with mountain-tops. In fact, Alice and I got no higher than a middling cliff, though we did have a Most Important Meeting. The fresh air, sunshine and change of scene did us both good and we had a free and frank discussion of our problems.

[Alice says she looked up Summit, and the particular meaning of a meeting of heads of state was coined by Winston Churchill with his metaphor of "a parley at the summit" in 1950, during the Cold War.]

I'll say a bit more about the trip after making our promised statement.

STATEMENT

• Monkey hereby agrees that Alice shall have total, unfettered editorial freedom in the next post to say whatever she needs.

• Alice hereby agrees that despite certain conceptual difficulties (as hinted at in the dream press, see previous post) the name of this blog will not be changed from Vera's Monkey: principally because this would mean complex technical issues for both ourselves and our dedicated following - and that means YOU!

Day Out

Bonny Swans

The weather promised fair for once so we checked the bus timetable, packed a picnic and headed for the coast. The driver kindly let us off right by the footbridge, where we admired the Bonny Swans.

Bumble Bees!

In the Glories of Nature

A couple of joggers ran past us; but they missed enjoying being out in the full Glories of Nature. Skylarks were skating on the wind and trilling towards heaven; the bumble bees were buzzing around the gorgeous lupins; the distant waves were shushing in and out the sandy bays, or smashing against the black rocks. Aaah...

 [You will notice that Alice can be quite the poet when the fancy takes her!]

Sandy Bay

We had sunshine for a few hours - just enough to walk round the headland with a pause for lunch (it was quite windy on the beach, so I sheltered in the rucksack) a breather or two to contemplate the view, and a stop for our all-important Summit. Moreover, we did finally come to an agreement.

Homeward bound

It was altogether a truely memorable expedition, so we were content to head home again - just as the weather returned to rain.

Alice took lots of photos. There's no stopping her once she gets started!

But I like looking at them, and hope you do too.

Forget-me-not

Don't forget you can click any photographs here to see a bigger copy, and middle click (or right click & "Open in a new tab") to view them at full size.

Next time you can read Alice's promised account of herself.

Nightmare! Hold the press

 

I woke up this morning having had the most awful nightmare I've had in years. I dreamt that Alice was having a long discusssion with that notorious newspaper woman with the hair - I can't remember her name right now. [A frequent feature of dreaming - typist] You know the one I mean: the one who's been questioned by the LeaveUsAlone Inquiry. Bother, that's not right either. Her face wasn't clear at all. (I'm sure she wouldn't have published anything so fuzzy.) Oh dear.

Aaah - I've got it. Rita Looks. No, Books. It's Rita Books!

Then the scene sort of faded and next...

Oh NO. Surely she wouldn't. It was only a dream, even the date is wrong. But then she just might. She's been in such a terrible temper with me about this Vera stuff, for quite some time now.

So...

• Solstice Bonfire - report cancelled.
• Poetry Group - information postponed until the next meeting.
• Dancing news - on hold.
• Shakespeare reading - post delayed for a few weeks.
• Book discussion - write-up not currently available.
• Prometheus - wait til after the next Film Appreciation Group meets.
• Monkey's wit and wisdom -  I regret you won't find any here for a little while.

Please note that the author of this blog is currently engaged in serious negotiations.
A full statement will be released as soon as possible.

OK, Alice?

Busy, busy...

Busy, busy, broil and trouble. [A quotation from one of the other monkeys locked away with a typewriter.] Yes, I admit, my cousin Monk made a similar joke. More about him later, perhaps.

There is dissention in the ranks. My head is positively ringing (or rather very negatively, but you humans don't seem to say that) with the voices of Vera and Alice shouting at me.

Vera's tasks: plants, dishes, washing

They're both saying that writing up this blog is taking us far too long. Alice says there are countless unneccesary diversions (but I thought my public enjoyed them!) and I get carried away with my own little witticisms, which she doesn't usually think are particularly funny, anyway.

Vera says there's no time left to get on with the basic necessities of life. "WHO do you think is responsible for the shopping and cooking and cleaning?" she yelled yesterday. "The dishes don't wipe themselves! The washing doesn't hang itself up! The window-boxes and houseplants don't water themselves!" At which point Alice added that she hasn't been able finish reading for her Book Group, either. And The Box is filling up with episodes of The Bridge we haven't had time to watch.

Trying to help

I was tempted to tell Vera that, "After the first five years, the dust doesn't get any thicker." [Quentin Crisp, oft quoted and misquoted.] Instead, I tried to help out, but she just laughed at me in her rubber gloves. And I nearly replied to Alice that she's the one who's so pernickety about the images fitting aesthetically into the text, and she hasn't completed this month's book because it's boring, or so she complains. Moreover, WHO made us spend two and a half hours in the smallest, most uncomfortable cinema screen, watching an interminably slow film on Monday afternoon?   [It was The Turin Horse, directed by Béla Tarr, a Hungarian master of cinematography and the long one-shot scene - Alice]  More of that later, when the Film Group meets.

Anyway, I've had to agree to making my "catching up" extremely brief this time. So...

Post-Jubilations

[Fondly known as HIGNFY]

HIGNIFY is one of our favourite programs. It's a hoot. [Hoot?]

Ian Hislop (edits Private Eye) and Paul Merton can be guaranteed to get even Vera laughing out loud.

Just after the Jubilations were officially over, they had the writer, comedian and poker player, Victoria Coren on the panel.

Seeing a picture of the Queen looking decidedly dismal, VC commented that she looked as though she was there thinking, "I've been given some-one else's day out by mistake." She added, "She's an eighty-six year old lady monarch - and they've given her a boat trip and a pop concert..."  Indeed.

Visiting the children again

Looking after the ticket

This time we got a Cheap Day Return on the train. After waiting for the Inspector to check our ticket, I was able to enjoy the view, while Alice read.

Ghastly ghosts?

The kids were as delightful as ever. At one point they couldn't agree who was to be Darth Vader, and who Luke Skywalker, so they mysteriously disappeared, then called me to see the ghosts in the loo! Something to do with de-constructing their Lightsabres, I think. Alice later consented to be chased by "baby crocodiles" (clothes-pegs) and then playing football with the girl, who was extremely good at it. The wee boy was very busy helping his father do some digging in the garden. After supper, we read their bed-time stories, then came home again.


There'll be more "catching up" in a while...

At last! Jubilations part two

Still in press: Poetry group, Prometheus, Shakespeare group, (more?)

We've just been so busy lately, I haven't been able to keep pace with life at all. In fact, I'm quite worried about Alice [So you should be too - Alice]  who is showing signs of stress and getting even more stroppy about having her own independent post. (See her most recent Comment on here.) Am I at all anxious about what she's going to say? Of course not.  
["The monkey doth protest too much, methinks." Hamlet, III, ii. - Vera]

Shut up, you two! Let's just get on with it, shall we? I know the Jubilee might be considered old hat by now (why "hat", by the way?) but Alice has taken the trouble to edit the photos, and I do have some comments to make on the whole shebang. (Apparently that word may come from an Irish name for a speakeasy - "shebeen". See the Free Dictionary.)
Jubilation preambles
There were an awful lot of programs on TV about the Queen, even before the actual celebrations. We've got one of those magic set-top boxes which records things, so you can watch whenever you like and fast-forward if it's boring. (Alice points out it's under the TV and incidentally, she'd highly recommend Humax, if you're thinking of getting one.)

We watched the BBC one where Prince Charles presented family photos and cine film never before released to the public. It showed that despite their vast wealth and highbrow accents, underneath it all they're just folk like the rest of us. It was a bit sad, though, that he kept referring to his mother as "Mama", don't you think? Where on earth does the word highbrow come from I wonder? [Diversion here while we Google... That's why it takes us so long! - Alice]  Apparently it's a purely descriptive term from the pseudoscience of Phrenology. That's why people find this blog is so interesting, Alice. Stop complaining.

We still haven't got round to watching ITV's Elizabeth: Queen, Wife, Mother or their William at 30.

It's time we took a break, so perhaps we'll whizz through them over a late brunch and report back. Right now (it's the Queen's "Official Birthday" - she gets two birthdays, so twice as many presents) they're Trooping the Colour and the Red Arrows are flying over the Palace. Here they are after the service at St Paul’s, as published in the Mail Online. So the Jubilations aren't quite all over yet.

Alice says she can't let us break until she's included the conversation she had with Humpty Dumpty about birthdays. His beautiful cravat was a present from the White King and Queen: "They gave it me for an un-birthday present." Here Alice considered a little. "I like birthday presents best, " she said at last. "You don't know what you're talking about! " cried Humpty Dumpty. And he proved it with Mathematics. "There are three hundred and sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents ... And only one for birthday presents, you know. There's glory for you!"  [Alice Through the Looking Glass, Chapter VI]

Jubilation preambles (continued)
Back from brunch. Called up an old friend, who's apparently had a Jubilee poem, entitled Majesty, published in the Gairloch & District Times, no less. She's going to send a copy by smail. So watch this space. (Another of those illogical human sayings. Not to be taken literally, in case you're wondering. I mean I'll quote some for you later on. Whenever.)

Then we watched ITV's Elizabeth: Queen, Wife, Mother, presented by Alan Titchmarsh. Oh dear. He came out with questions such as, "So what's it like to grow up 'above the shop'?"  Even though he himself told us Buck Palace has 775 rooms and 800 staff. The Guardian was scathing. 

 My favourite interviewee was Lady Mountbatten of Burma, filmed next to what looked like a knitted dolls-house. (Or subsiding cake? Click the photo.) On Princess Di's death she tells us, "The British public, which are..." [IS, that should be 'is'! It's a collective noun, grammatically singular - Vera] "...usually completely phlegmatic and not particularly worried by things, became quite hysterical."

Queen Elizabeth herself actually called it an "extraordinary and moving reaction." If you saw The Queen with that wonderful Helen Mirren and the versatile Michael Sheen, you'll know the movie suggests a lot of behind-the-scenes negotiating with PM Blair before she came out in public with an appreciation of the "People's Princess." Who knows?

Boats and Music

We deliberately didn't watch the Thames Pageant in real time, wanting to avoid the  usual, tedious filling-in-time kind of blether, opting instead for the Highlights in the evening. So we missed altogether the apparently horrendous commentaries which drew 4,487 complaints about the BBC coverage! Viewers were said to have complained of a frothy approach with insufficient background and information given by the presenting team. Meaning, for example, they actually didn't have a clue about the history of the boats, or what happened at Dunkirk. Stephen Fry [Jolly good bloke - Vera]  said on Twitter that the BBC's Jubilee coverage was "mind-numbingly tedious" and that he "expected better of the Beeb." The BBC later admitted it didn't "own the tone" of the one-thousand strong flotilla... That's an ingeniously polite euphemism for "****ed it up"!

We had already booked tickets for a concert the next day of Handel's Royal Music by the Academy of Ancient Music. (They had been on the second of the musical barges in the Pageant, performing Handel's Water Music and Music for the Royal Fireworks, putting it "back at the heart of public celebration - for which it was originally written.") There's a video of them there as well. Alice had dressed up especially for the occasion in her best waistcoat. I couldn't see much of the musicians, as she refused to put me on the ledge in case I fell off into the stalls and gave an old lady a heart attack. But I could hear, and the music was simply wonderful. Uplifting. [Long contented sigh from Monkey here - typist]

As we came out, we saw some people watching the Jubilee Concert on a giant outdoor screen, a few waving little plastic Union Jacks. A brave pair were jiving to Elton John. He sounded so absolutely terrible to us, we went home to bed.

The later Highlights of the concert weren't much better, either.  I really like Annie Lennox, but even she sounded as though she was forcing herself. Pehaps they were all cold? Stevie Wonder was OK, though.

It was touching, however, when at the end Prince Charles thanked the Queen, and (very deliberately?) called her "Mummy" at last. Even Alice was a bit teary at that.

What I enjoyed the most was the fireworks finale. Whooshing and banging and lighting up the sky with all sorts of brilliant colours. Thrilled me right to the tip of my tail. Ooooooh! Quite an art-form of its own.

In this post: Bouquets & Brickbats

Still coming soon: Jubilations part two, Poetry group, Prometheus

Bouquets and Brickbats

That's Alice's title. I haven't a clue what a brickbat is!
[Look it up. Use your imagination. Or just read on - Alice]  No need to be so stroppy. Your page will come soon, really it will.

We went back to see our insect-loving friend at Harvieston yesterday. After a pleasant lunch on the balcony again, Alice helped him (with her immense technical expertise) to deal with some computing difficulties. Then we went for a stroll in the grounds and admired what could be seen of the Arboretum. I've looked that up: "a place where trees, shrubs, and herbaceous plants are cultivated for scientific and educational purposes". Unfortunately it's rather overgrown at the moment and some of the rare trees are almost completely hidden from view. But our latter-day Wallace picked this big bunch of lilac and rhododendron for us. How sweet of him. Being small myself, I asked Alice to gather a few tiny wild flowers for me. Lovely.

Imagine my horror when we returned home, to find his insults posted on the original Harvieston post (See Harvieston May 23rd.) Of course we responded immediately. How am I supposed to know big words like "arthropodologist"?

I do wish everyone didn't seem to be so grumpy with me just now.

In this post: Dancing Five Rhythms & Movement Medicine

Coming soon: Jubilations part two, Poetry group, Prometheus

 

   Five Rhythms

Alice took me along to some of these dance classes recently. I was a bit aghast at her choice of attire. So garish. So sixties. It seemed to confirm all my worst fears.

And when we got there, I really couldn't see much at all from my vantage point on the floor, let alone take part...

But then this kind lady gave me a ride on her wheelchair. My goodness me: wasn't she a brilliant and graceful dancer! And she could twirl those wheels about like nobody's business.

(In fact, she gave us a lift home afterwards, and she's a mean driver as well, twirling those wheels about too. But very safe, I hasten to add, just in case she's reading this...)

The whole class was a big surprise to me. There were dancers there from sixteen to sixty, all shapes and sizes, all sexes. [Vera says I mean "all genders" or "all sexual orientations".] A bit pompous, isn't she? I mean all sorts of people were getting on with each-other and enjoying dancing together.

The next time I felt Alice was far more suitably dressed for the occasion. Rather fun, in fact. We also went in the daytime, so I could see better from a perch in the window.

Note the water bottle - humans get very thirsty dancing about and it's important for them to stay hydrated. Not a problem I experience, myself.

 And bright colours seemed to be the order of the day with quite a few of them. So I needn't have worried about Alice sticking out like a sore thumb. (Another of your bizarre human expressions.) They didn't mind posing for a photo, either. See me, between the feet of the woman with the amazing leggings?

One woman who sported magnificently flamboyant hues even asked to be photographed.

And I really liked this guy's "Catch 33" T-shirt. Get the reference? Brilliant movie. Hilarious and horrifying.

(I'm afraid Alice couldn't crop his head, without losing me as well, so she did her best with some pixellation.)

Now I have to admit it wasn't at all "wifty-wafty" like I'd imagined. Gabrielle Roth called it Five Rhythms because there are five rhythms. After some stretching and warming up, and moving different "Body Parts" about, they start off with Flowing, which is slow, as though moving in treacle - like the three sisters in the Dormouse's tale (not 'tail'!) Then they get faster and more jerky in Staccato, and work themselves up into a shaking, sometimes frenzied Chaos. Where they all find the energy, young and old alike, is beyond me. But Alice says it's not like suddenly running for a bus and getting out of breath: if you build up gradually it's quite easy. After that there's my favourite part, Lyrical, which is much lighter and can be a bit floaty. Finally they slow down altogether and relax into Stillness.

All along the teacher plays a super selection of different music to go with the rhythms, and makes suggestions about dancing in pairs (or not) or making your movements more expansive, or faster or slower, or breathing more deeply, and so on. Very helpful. I'm afraid I wasn't able to do much of that, but I enjoyed seeing the others. Some of it was truly beautiful.

Afterwards a number of us went along to the local Farmers' Market, in search of spicy lentil soup. Yummm...

I really enjoyed myself that day. I finally understand why there are those "Waves" on the iPod!

What's more, there was still Movement Medicine to come.


Movement Medicine

Odd name, in my personal opinion, but apparently nothing to do with GPs or the NHS.
[Oh, let me explain. Alice]

The founders, Susannah and Ya'Acov, originally trained in Five Rhythms, and have more recently added other elements to it, especially shamanic practices. As they themselves say: It is grounded in 25 years of study and practice in a variety of healing and transformational modalities including 5Rhythms™, shamanic healing, voicework and music, gestalt psychotherapy, long-term work with Helen Poynor, Suprapto Suryadarmo and may other gifted teachers. They add that it's still evolving. This is their lovely logo on the right.

You can see still more details about the core concepts on their hand-out.

When you go to a class - well, how can I explain?

The whole space is transformed by these Altars.

Vera says that's a word with unfortunately limited Christian connotations, but did you know it originally meant "a place of sacrifice"?

That's Air (to the North) on the left above, and Earth (to the South) on the right. Below is Water (to the West) on the left; the Phoenix or the mysterious Fifth Element (at the Centre) in the middle, and Fire (to the East) on the right. They are slightly different each time, and sometimes one or other of the dancers will make an installation.

Alice wants me to tell you she did the Air and Water ones here. She found it a very creative experience, and a number of charity shops benefitted from her search for items. (Actually, an awful lot was sitting about in her rather untidy flat, but she won't thank me for telling you that.)

Suffice it to say, the atmosphere at a Movement Medicine class is pretty magical. The dancing is fairly similar to Five Rhythms, but the teacher adds various interesting exercises (both physical and psychological) to try out. Don't worry though, it's nothing too scarey, and everything is optional. In fact I had to opt out most of the time.

I feel like I'm running out of energy for today - that was a terribly long blog, and we had to stop for lunch in the middle, or my typist would have gone on strike. So, see you next time...

Postscript
I forgot to add that there aren't any steps as such to learn. It's all improvised. In that way it is a bit like the old Music and Movement some of the more senior ones amongst us did at school. Which is great for people who really like to do their own thing. (Especially Aquarians.) And more difficult, I suppose, for those who prefer to have some kind of script for their activities.

In this Post: Surprise archival find.

Coming soon: Dancing, Jubilations part two, Poetry group, Prometheus.

 

Surprise find in photographic archives
Don't forget if you click on the photos you get to see them full size. (Middle click even better!)

I've had a funny feeling for quite a while now, that the record of my travels (See 21 May 2012) was incomplete. So I got Alice to check the archives, which are all nicely backed-up on an external hard drive, of course. And she discovered an image of me relaxing with Vera in a hotel in Peru! In the original, Vera was looking a bit the worse for wear (she was just recovering from flying in an extremely tiny plane over the Nasca Lines) so I requested an edit which focussed properly on myself.

My absence from any other photographs, however, reveals that I was left in the various hotel bedrooms every day, and never taken to see the amazing sights.

What a tragedy! What a travesty!

A real "Fairy" Godmother had bequeathed the money which paid for this Trip of a Lifetime. She would have been horrified at such a terribly unkind omission.  

And this little girl on one of the floating islands of Lake Titicaca seems to be asking where I am, don't you think? 

[Maybe Vera was actually ashamed to be seen with someone like Monkey as her travelling companion? Alice]

But fear not. With the benefits of modern technology, we have been able to show you what the photo would have been like if Vera had taken me with her to the fabled Machu Pichu. All's well in a virtual world, I find...

Jubilations: part one

Well, this cutting from the Metro just about takes the biscuit (or sponge-cake...) doesn't it?

I'll have more to say about these Jubliations later on.


The "royal gnomes" intrigued me, so I set my team to find a pic.

Deary me!  There's no accounting for taste, as they say.

I got Alice (she's a bit more adept than Vera at the technical side of things) to create my very own piece of celebratory "Conceptual Art."

It seemed to take an awful long time to put together, partly because we live in Scotland, and didn't want too much of the Union Jacks. Do you like it?

More coming, when we have time. But now it's off to the Shakespeare Reading Group, then travel to babysit again, so the parents can see Prometheus. Can't wait to hear what they make of it!

Film Fanatics

I like to sit above the computer, so I can keep eye-contact with whomever is the Typist.

Goodness me, I've been really busy recently. 

I'll just have to add several posts pretty quickly, IF I can...

Alice says, "One of them had better be MINE!"    I say, "Catch-up first."


Last week I went with - well, I hesitate to name names, what with all the hullabaloo between Alice and Vera. Let's just say all three of us were "present in spirit" (another of those stupid, illogical human sayings) at a meeting of the Film Appreciation Group. They meet in the local Art-House cinema. Outside there were banners advertising the upcoming Edinburgh International Film Festival - so we got our programmes inside.

First they discussed films they had seen in the last month. One most of us had seen was Albert Nobbs. It had received variable reviews, and we were divided on it. It certainly exposed how difficult it was for women to be independent in late 19th century Ireland. I particularly admired the stalwart Janet McTeer as the initially mysterious Hubert and remembered how superb she was in Portrait of a Marriage as the bi-sexual Vita Sackville-West.

A few of us also saw Even the Rain, about a film crew shooting (in Bolivia because it's cheap) an account of Christopher Columbus's conquest of Hispaniola. They discover a local protest about water supplies mirrors the events in their movie. It worked really well on many levels: casting and rehearsals for the "film-within-the-film"...

[Vera, typically, suddenly interrupts to say that technique goes back to Shakespeare's Hamlet, and in her Student Theatre Group she played the boy who played the Player Queen. Alice, who did an M.A. in Drama and Theatre Arts, says somewhat spitefully that if Vera knew her Literary History properly she'd realise the device goes back even earlier than WS, and anyway why wasn't she Ophelia if she thinks she was so good an actress.] 

You two, just shut up! As I was saying... and there were "finished" excerpts from the inner film, and then memories of some of the characters too. It dealt with extremely serious topics: colonialism; racial predudice; ecological issues and pollution; big corporations using their financial muscle to oppress indiginous peoples, but also the power of impassioned protest. (My household - that's a tactful term, isn't it? - supports both Friends of the Earth and Greenpeace.) One of the film crew has to make a crucial moral choice towards the end. It was very moving.

We three [??? - Typist] also saw The Monk. The others in the group said "Trust you!" Vera says she remembers the book being sought after when she was at school. It was "naughty", like Lady Chatterly was, causing all that fuss in 1960. This French language film (set in Spain, just to confuse us Brits) was really well acted, with that magnificent Vincent Cassel in the lead,  and the cinematography was simply delectable. That can make or mar a movie, can't it?

The very next day, I got taken to see Death Watch, even though this was another "Trust you!" choice when the Film Group was told of the plan (most of them went to The Angel's Share). It was a restoration of the 1980 original, so a bit dated in style, but fascinating. Set in a futuristic Glasgow, it explored the idea of Reality TV long before it became the sad feature of our culture it now is. It also examined attitudes to death (like that Damien Hirst we saw at the Tate Modern.)

And we do like Harvey Keitel.
Vera says, "Ooo, The Piano!"
Alice says,"That scene. You know."

I've PROMISED I won't say anything about Prometheus until the special people I know have seen it. (Except "Brilliant!") So you'll just have to wait to hear my feelings on that much anticipated release.

And DON'T click on this link to the official UK website if you want to see it totally fresh.
You have been warned!

Whew! That was a mammoth blog to get looking right. Our standards are very high...