Raise a Glass!

It's that time of year again.
Alice and I had just decorated the trees: that's hers and mine. Click on the photo to see it full size, please.

We'd even got all the cards written and posted by Royal Mail's last date!

We'd made the trip out in the cold and wet to pick some holly and ivy to put around our home, and now half the pictures in the place have little green sprigs tucked around their tops.

So, to celebrate all this successful activity, we decided to treat ourselves to a tippple of some lovely rich Amontillado sherry and a piece of Mrs Crimble's Dutch Apple Cake, which is gorgeous all year round, with some festive-tasting marzipan on top. I also insisted she dug out the cake decorations from the back of a kitchen drawer, and lit the teeny candles too - not that they stayed as you see them (above) for very long... Yummy.

Apparently some of this seasonal feasting goes back to the traditional ways of the ordinary people, who couldn't afford to feed their livestock over the winter, so were obliged to kill them and eat or preserve them.
We're not a Christian household, or even one of any other faith, but we nevertheless love all the celebrations and know there's an ancient truth behind them. It's about rejoicing that in the midst of the shortest, darkest days, there will be light appearing again soon. It's the turning of the year at the Winter Solstice, it's the time of Yule.

That makes it a good time to remember old friends; be generous to those we love, and donate something to those less fortunate.

And I'm afraid there's plenty of such inequalities around in the world today, for many different reasons. Politics, psychology, religion and sociology all try to find explanations for it. Maybe Iain M Banks' Culture agents were right in State of the Art, when they said the human race was past redemption. (We've already written about his short story on here.)

First World War

Such pessimism isn't new, either. Alice loves Christams carols, and one of her favourites has always been "It Came upon a Midnight Clear". The music is wonderful, but some of the lines are dark, and telling:

Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring;
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing.

The men of strife still continue to make the terrible noise of war, whatever the season. Not to mention the many other ways mankind has found to despoil the earth we depend upon - like fracking or drilling for oil in the Arctic for example ...

But Alice repeats that one of the pleasures of supporting organisations like Greenpeace, or Friends of the Earth, or Oxfam, is that there is sometimes good news of progress, as well. We can make a difference - if we bother!

Enough of the homily, for now.

To end on an upbeat note, we saw the second Hobbit film this week, sub-titled The Desolation of Smaug, and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Check out the reviews on Rotten Tomatoes. Not to spoil things for those who haven't seen it yet and don't want to know, we'll just say there's plenty of frolics and fun; ferocious fighting, and a simply delightful, though dangerous, dragon.

Down South again - part three

In case anyone is confused by finding themselves reading part three at the top of  this page, I'll point out that blogs put the newest post first, and the previous ones in reverse order - assuming that you're really keen and keep coming back for more. We make no such ego-centric assumptions, though we hope you might be at least a bit enthusiastic. So you'll find part two below this, and part one further down.

If instead you're way behind and found this at the bottom, click on the "Older Posts" link (it will turn pink) and the previous seven will load.

Alice thinks I'm talking down to you, but I'd rather risk causing a little offence, than be sorry I didn't make things clear. So, where were we?

Near Hastings. We got met off the train by another of Alice's old friends, but from Five Rhythms, not University. And she's into astrology, as well. So at least the blether was different!

This is my new friend, Basil, in the car with me. We had several trips together: maybe just to the supermarket for goodies, or better still, to go out and enjoy the area.

We were there when the great the St Jude's storm swept accross the south of England. The wind and rain were terribly noisy in the night and woke us up in the early hours. Luckily we weren't as badly affected as some, hadn't planned to travel until the following day, and were simply able to enjoy the power of Nature.

Later that day we had a most enjoyable expedition. We all went into Hastings and walked along the beach, admiring the terrific waves. But Alice was preoccupied with hunting for a particular building, which she knew was here somewhere.

This one: called Palace Court. Impressive, yes? Right click and see full size, won't you. It had featured in a wonderful vampire-film-with-a-difference, Byzantium, which SFX's DVD review called, "a connoisseur’s vampire film; a vintage red". We reviewed it ourselves on our blog in July, after seeing it in the cinema and loving it.

Try also the interesting New York Times review which picks up on the film's use of the word "soucriant" and links this to Caribbean folk culture. Jean Rhys used the word in Wide Sargasso Sea, her prequel to Jane Eyre which recounts a possible earlier life of the mad Mrs Rochester. Well worth a read, by the way.

We had to have a closer look, of course.

The beautiful doorway led to one of the locations for Byzantium.

Nice reflection here of the promenade behind, but I couldn't see much inside.

An old man came up to the glass, but wouldn't let us in. He must get fed up with people asking about the filming.

 One local resident, however, had more luck at the time of the actual shoot.

Here's a glimpse of the interior at night.
And the exterior in daylight.

See Dean Thorpe's Flickr for several more good photos. His website is worth a look too.

Below is a still from the film, with Gemma Arterton looking out at the promenade.

Under the promenade lies Bottle Alley, which also featured in the film - quite spooky at night, but an interesting place in daylight.

The walls are lined with broken bottle glass - hence the name. 

Borough engineer Sidney Little, said to be a Modernist with an enthusiasm for concrete, was responsible for the design of the alley, which was opened in 1934.  There's more great photos at the link we've found for him.

After all this exploring, we had a break for a coffee or Mocha, the latter being one of Alice's favourite hot drinks; bought ourselves a DVD of Byzantium, and went to see Ender's Game.

The film is based on the first of Orson Scott Card's excellent sequence of Sci-fi books. We all enjoyed it and found it a really exciting rendition of the novel with the important issues it raises about xenophobia and war.

Recently Card has rightly come in for criticism for his homophobic opinions. The anger of those who called for a boycott of the film is certainly understandable, yet the recent brouhaha has brought out different opinions on whether it should suffer for the author's views.

There's a very thought-provoking article about a personal response to the whole controversy at Grantland.

After this satisfying day to conclude our visit Down South, we had to pack ready to leave for home on the morrow.

Before getting the flight north from Gatwick, I enjoyed another train journey. To help me pass the time, Alice kindly gave me a loan of her iPod. I love the good old groups, like Eurythmics. Annie Lennox is super. We saw an exhibition of her stuff a little while ago. Did you see what we wrote about it here?

That's us up to date on our tavels Down South - sights seen and movies reviewed as well.

Oh, in case you're wondering, the bulbs did get planted in the window boxes at last, but of course they're not at all photogenic as yet.

Down South again - part two

The next part of our trip was supposed to be one simple train journey to Alice's friend who lives near Hastings - but then...

Despite having arranged it all well in advance, she "discovered" online (after some curious - in both senses - Googling of name plus images) another ex-University friend with whom she'd lost touch for simply ages and ages. The image she found, as you can see, was in itself somewhat cryptic and frustrating, but other information encouraged her to take the risk of an email. And Bingo! it really was the friend in question.

Many more emails, texts and phone calls later, we added a diversion to the UK Capital to our itinerary, which meant an extra train journey.

But I like trains: much more relaxing than planes. I even made a new friend on the way, albeit briefly. Click on this (and any other images) to see bigger - or right-click to open full size in a new tab.  I know, I know: some of you already know that.

We finally arrived at the great Clapham Junction, of legendary fame, where the two friends made an enthusiastic reunion. They got a passing stranger to photograph this historic moment with them both standing in front of the Tube map.
I got left off, apart for the very top of my head and ears! I was more than a little hurt about this, but Alice apologised profusely, so I insisted she had to compensate for it later.

We could now use our sensibly pre-ordered, pretty Visitor's Oyster Card, and I got the fun of riding in a big red London bus for the first time. I was sorry, though, we didn't meet the famous Man on the Clapham Omnibus.

After dropping off the luggage, we went to a very nice little pub in Brixton, where the two women talked and talked for simply hours.

We started in the Trinity Arms' lovely outdoor garden and went inside as it got cooler. And still they kept on talking.

They did have an awful lot of years to catch up on. At least it was a comfy place to be.

After supper back at the house, now joined by the friend's partner, they talked even more. And I got to see the biggest computer screen in my life. It's a Mac, and the working bit of the computer is on the back of the screen. Ain't technology wonderful! I hope you've noticed the website they had up...

What did they do over breakfast the next morning? Yes, you've got it. Talked: Life, The Universe and Everything stuff by now.

Eventually it was back on the train, towards Hastings this time. That's for part three.

Down South again - part one

We recently went on a trip to the south of England.

The travelling seemed to involve an awful lot of waiting, plus a passport, even though we weren't technically going "abroad". And it won't be so unless Scotland becomes independent - but who knows how that will turn out? I think Alice is going to vote Yes even though she's actually English by birth. But that's food for another sort of discussion.

The waiting itself seemed to require a lot of snacking. No complaints about that!

Eventually we got on board. I hoped she was paying attention to these instructions, 'cause I wouldn't get saved if she wasn't!

I just love taking off and feeling that great Whoosh of power from the engines, then seeing the land becoming gradually smaller beneath us.

We had a super view of the Forth Bridges before everything disappeared beneath the cloud. Right click on the image to open in a new tab, and see it even bigger, folks. (And any others here, too)

The main reason for the journey was that Alice was taking part in an unofficial mini-reunion with three old friends (I won't say just how old) from her University days.

It would be the first time all four of them had met together for quite a few years, and they intended to revisit their student haunts as well as do a lot of talking. And eating.

They started with a sumptuous Thai Fusion meal the evening before their visit to Southampton University. And talked.

The nostalgia trip began with a visit to the Stile pub, where they sometimes used to have lunch. Alice recalled often having a Ploughman's [a truely super link here!] and a half of Newcastle Brown [and do try that one too] before going to the Library to write an essay - and then falling asleep there.

But times have changed and you can't get Ploughman's at the Stile any more, so they just stopped for a coffee.

They went for a look round the Library after that, but it had been so much modernised inside that it was almost unrecognisable - though the books were much the same as far as I could see.

Alice paused just here, because she has a great fondness for Elizabethan and Jacobean drama. She even wrote a dissertation on The Use of Blood in Some Jacobean Tragedies for her M.A. in Drama and Theatre Arts.

She was inspired by the startling stage direction "Enter Giovanni with Annabella's heart upon his dagger" in John Ford's Tis Pity She's a Whore. Well, it takes all sorts, I suppose.

This wonderfully gory photo, by Teresa Olson, is of Andrew Krug in a 2009 production by the New York Toy Box Theatre Company. They have even more like it.

If you want something really intellectual on the play in question, try the article on Courses in Drama.

But back to the tour. Still on the theatrical theme, however, because all four of our alumni (what a pompous Latinate word that is!) had been variously involved with the University Theatre Group, either acting or working behind the scenes.

They'd managed to arrange a back-stage tour of the Nuffield Theatre - which was opened during their time at Southampton. This revived lots of memories. But I won't go into all of them, or we'll be up until dawn typing away.

Here I am on the edge of the apron stage: a good place for soliloquies. Alice once stood here and did a crazy speech to the audience as Mary the Maid in Ionesco's The Bald Prima Donna for a Theatre Group contribution to Freshers' Week. It was her first taste of the thrill of holding an audience's attention. I'm tempted to say she's never been the same since. Oops. So, of course, I have said it now...

John Nettles did To be or not to be here in 1964! But we've mentioned him before.

This is the very dressing room where Judi Dench got ready for Three Sisters with the Oxford Playhouse, back in the 60s. Alice was an extra for them, and one of the others was delighted to lay out Miss Dench's costumes for her.

After lunch in the Nuffield cafe, there was a walk through the campus to the Hall of Residence where the four first met years ago. They took photos of each other here, but I didn't feature in any of those. I was getting a bit tired of it all by then, anyway, though they just kept on talking away and reminiscing.

The final port of call was to a house which used to belong to a fellow (yet much older) student, where there were often great parties in the old days, or a spare room for anyone staying out of term.

He had only very recently died, and the current residents were busy trying to clear the place up. So I got to meet his very elderly bear, who might even be an antique in his own right.

We then repaired to the home of one of the group who lives in the area, for a real feast with a special cake and lots more talking. What a busy few days... And there's still more of our trip to come in part two.

Happy Halloween!

I had lots of fun dressing up for this tableau, and Alice felt very proud of making such a wonderful squash lantern just for me. But I'm not at all sure if you're actually allowed to say Happy Halloween! It's not like Christmas or someone's Birthday. Always the stickler for accuracy, Alice says Halloween is really the old pagan festival of Samhain, which got incorporated into the Christian one of All Hallows' Eve, and is the evening before All Saints' Day.

The skulls, skeletons and ghosts that appear at our commercialised Halloween (supposedly scarey) are a product of this culture's inability to come to terms with death, she says. I think I agree, even though decay is more of a problem for me than your actual death, not being technically animate at all. And sorry if I've spoilt your illusion!

In Latin countries like Mexico, they go the whole hog to celebrate the Day of the Dead, or Día de los Muertos, visiting their family's and friends' graves and feasting among the tombs at night. See this really good article in The Guardian. It's a festival for both embracing death and rejoicing in the pleasures of life. They properly understand you can't have one without the other. . .

The Trick or Treat stuff goes back to  the Medieaval customs of Souling or Wassailing, when the poor folk went from door to door, singing traditional songs and asking for a gift of money or food.

 The Watersons had a super version of the Souling Song on their album Frost and Fire - one of Alice's favourite albums from way back in the time of vinyl LPs. We couldn't find them singing that one on YouTube, but there are other videos of them, and a version by Sting who gives a slightly different rendition.

Do you like this other photo of me doing Halloween? I think it's just a bit more spooky than the one at the start. You can click on it (and any others) to see a bigger version, or right click and open in a new tab for full size. If you come here often, you'll know that already.

This has turned out to be a shortish post, but one with lots of links to follow - or not, as you please. Alice is getting twitchy because she meant to spend today editing the dozens of photos she took on a recent trip Down South. Quite a few of me among them too. So look out for that coming soon, folks.

The Violas, a Visit, and some Vegetables

I just love alliteration in the title of a Post, as you've no doubt noticed if you've been following us for a while. And it really does fit what we've got lined up today, too. Well - more or less.

Violas
I've been keeping an eye on Alice's window boxes, on and off. Here's a photo we haven't put up before, of the French Marigolds and Lobelia in mid July.

Click to see larger, or open in a new tab for full size. Yes, I know I keep saying that, but new readers might not know.

When the Lobelia passed their best, Alice put in some Violas, as you can see below. Awfully pretty, aren't they?

If you want, you can also look at our Posts of 23 March 2013 (Equinox, was it?); 25 April (Window box watch & Iain Banks update); 14 July (Sorry. Way behind) and most recently, the one of 27 July (Bees; blood and beauty) which all feature pictures of the window boxes.

Alice is now wondering just when to plant the bulbs again. Put them in too early and they catch the frosts: too late and we get nothing to look at for ages. Even a modest gardener has to worry about these little details. Last year's bulbs are sitting patiently in a dark cupboard. I like to imagine they're dreaming about the Spring. Just an old romantic poet at heart, aren't I?

The Visit

We've recently been back to Harvieston.

See what we said about the place when we visitied our eccentric arthropodologist friend there, back in May 2012.

This is the view up the long driveway from the road. You can just glimpse the front of the house between the trees.

The old manor house, which dates from the 18th century, has an imposing front porch, which is very ancient looking, although I don't know how old the door itself is. And you can't get in that way nowadays, as I discovered, despite jumping up and down on the handle.

See Rootschat for some historical discussions and information (six pages worth, a lot of it about genealogy).

It's a Grade C listed building, and the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland (RCAHMS) holds information about it. But you'll have to visit them to see what they have. Maybe we will one day.

We spent most of our time outside, admiring the wonderful arboretum. There are some amazingly big trees that must be incredibly aged.

This one is particularly attractive with its riven trunk, huge branches and thick growth of moss. Don't forget to right click to see this bigger still.

It's also very attractive to the potential climber. Look where I am! And note the ladder as well.

I'm doing an Andy Goldsworthy impression. What wonderful colours in the leaves!

 In fact, I'm going one further than him here, by making myself an integral part of it.

Andy Goldsworthy started by constructing his artistic pieces in nature, from nature, then photographing them for his own records. But the photographs themselves are works of art, and make super books.

Morning Earth has some of his photos online. There are more at a Digital Catalogue, compiled by Glasgow University.

Alice has got a fascinating DVD, Rivers and Tides, about him and his creative process. It's one of her favourites.You can see a brief  video of him at work on the BBC Learning Zone.

The ladder was so our friend could climb the tree and pose on the branch for Alice to take "artistic" photos. His request, I emphasise. I've CENSORED most of them. You can guess why. Some people!

He did include me in one of them (which, thankfully, Alice has tactfully cropped). I certainly wouldn't have come to any harm if we'd fallen. But I wasn't quite so sure about him...

The Veggies

We then proceeded to the allotment. I admired the wonderful giant thistles, only to be told they were actually artichokes. That's what Lords of the Manor eat for their supper, I assume.

Our host let us help dig up some potatoes. And thereby hangs a tale. He'd planted four different varieties, and wanted us to test and compare them at home.

Before we left, however, he insisted on showing us his latest arthropod pet. It's a baby Mantis. No, not that sort of bug, as in Grace Hopper's story of historical invention. This here!  A delicate little beastie indeed.

He's also keen on birdwatching, I gather, and goes off on jaunts into the wild with his binoculars.

Potato Testing
We were supposed to test and compare them for appearance, texture and taste. What fun!

We tried them just plain boiled; then with a little butter, salt and pepper added; and finally with some grated mature cheddar cheese on top. The additions sometimes brought out interesting subtleties in the potatoes themselves. This is me testing numbers 1 and 3 on the right.

Numbers 2 and 4 here. Please note the healthy side salad. Also the tiny Warm Fuzzy we were given by our dear old friend - it's behind the packet of cheese.

When we'd submitted our report, we would find out what each was actually called.

Guess which one we liked the best! It was number 1. We found it savoury and herby with the butter, salt and pepper, and simply heavenly with grated cheese as well. The only problem with these red varieties is that when you boil them, the skins and about a quarter inch of flesh tend to break away. But they taste the same, for all that. Next time we'll try baking or roasting them.

Winning spud

The winner was called a Red Duke of York and holds an Award of Gardening Merit from the Royal Horticultural Society. So there!

Number 2, another red variety, was a Yetholm Gypsy. It was a bit unatractive looking, almost purple, with a rather knobbly skin. But we found it almost as good to eat as the first one.

Number 3 was a Maris Peer, which looked just like any ordinary potato. Very nice, we wrote. (Just not heavenly.) And number 4 was the well known Maris Piper, which tasted delicious, but the skin (which we keep on, for the vitamins) was rough in texture, and therefore not so pleasant to eat.

What a great day we had, not to mention the gustatory follow-up. What? But we do mention, right after saying not to mention. Oh, I give up. The English language defies all logic!