1 The silent phase, remember, is one of the ways I described this middle phase of your three-phase holiday. Lazy daze on a Siamese boat; I sense though that it might be more sensible to talk about a yacht. It's nothing like The Riddle of the Sands, is it? Plenty of room to stow things, plenty of room to continue the previous evening's game of Scrabble. I can imagine that there are opportunities to don the captain's cap, to look towards the far horizon, and to call out commands which all those who watched Jack Hawkins in his RN roles would immediately recognise. No need to be reticent in the shouting, I guess, as the crew continue with their jobs irrespective of what the paying-actors do. Continue to enjoy. Continue to remain all at sea. Continue to remain away from the shore.
2 And in farawayland? Ah, the work continues. I visited the onetime young wife. I also visited a onetime Royal Marine whose wife died during the year, who grieves for her, who is suffering from a degenerative disease. Day by continuing day, from one month to the next, from one year to the following one, he is locked into his riser/recliner chair.
2.1 A visitor, a journeyman-visitor, can do no more than visit. There is no consolation to provide. There are no soft words which are in any way relevant. All the visitor can do is to listen, to keep the eyes on the man in the riser/recliner, to understand that the company, the presence of an other in the room, is sufficient. He has come on to the visiting list.
3 One of the night-stops will be in Bernay, a town south of Brionne. As I looked at the map, I wondered. Perhaps we could break away from the main party by cycling to Bec, there to spend the night (whilst the others cycle to Rouen). The following day, the rest day, we could have our breakfast and then cycle amiably to Rouen. Remember, the ride by the side of the Seine? We might even find one of those open-air recreation centres.
Monday, 31 December 2007
Sunday, 30 December 2007
For the last time ..
1 Well, for the last time this year the FRBC set out from the Square. I had cycled there so I was able to enjoy the company as we cycled back to East Grinstead and from there continue our journey to Redhill Aerodrome. Our leader led and we followed along the Worth Way to Maidenbower, and then to Three Bridges, and by way of cycle paths to Horley and to eventually to the aerodrome.
1.1 Notice the old world. It appears on the wooden arm-posts. The aerodrome.
2 But the swift movement from the Square to the aerodrome conceals the interest of the ride. We followed the cycle paths through Crawley and so found ouselves cycling by the side of a wide stream, sufficiently wide to warrant being called a river. At one time, as we cycled through these Riverside Gardens, a lake was on one side and the river was on the other. At Gatwick. we cycled along a wide path with the railway on one side and the road on the other. Under the railway station we passed, on the cycle-path to a bus-stop where the waiting people stood back as the cyclists rode by. To Horley, past the Archway theatre, and on to open country, always following, to the aerodrome, to the cafe there.
2.1 Cycling, like walking, does take a person to parts which are not otherwise visited. Back-roads, roads that are not made up, roads which link main ones, roads which are used by horse-riders, paths that run through quiet residential areas - these were the ways which took us, eventually, to the pleasure of the cafe.
3 It could have been early spring. The sun was warm on the face. The cafe was welcoming. Some of my companions ate their full breakfasts. Two police officers ate their food whilst wearing their full armed-response kit, including the armoured jacket, two hand-guns, and various other bits and pieces. In the Sunday Mirror there was a piece about Mrs Gordon Brown's step-grandfather, if I recollect correctly, who had accompanied the nuclear material to Christmas Island for one of the tests and who had flown in a sniffer Canberra. (Perhaps he was one of the crew in the Canberra which was piloted by our Master (recently-retired) of Grapple Re-union ceremonies.) According to the piece he died of leukaemia some 50 years after his exposure.
4 A shorter return ride, but one which was sufficiently long for me to try Andrew Chadwick's new bike. Just a top-of-the-class road-bike. The saddle was so high that I could barely put my feet on the pedals. Even so, I could recognise a highly-bred bike for what it was. New Year, new road-bike for me. I must begin my conversations with Ian.
5 About 40 miles of level cycling. In all probability, the concluding bike-ride of the year. There is a chance that I might be able to ride for an hour tomorrow afternoon. I'll need to be organised. I have two SSAFA visits to make, and then there re jobs to complete in East Grinstead, one of which will be the purchase of a saw so that I can saw at least something of the silver birch which has fallen across the Forest Way. And silver birch burns well.
6 I have spoken of your being in phase 2 of a three-phase holiday, phase 2 being the sea-phase. Even a prosaic description of the phase - the boat, the company, the congregation of mother and daughters - presents an enviable picture. Enviable.
1.1 Notice the old world. It appears on the wooden arm-posts. The aerodrome.
2 But the swift movement from the Square to the aerodrome conceals the interest of the ride. We followed the cycle paths through Crawley and so found ouselves cycling by the side of a wide stream, sufficiently wide to warrant being called a river. At one time, as we cycled through these Riverside Gardens, a lake was on one side and the river was on the other. At Gatwick. we cycled along a wide path with the railway on one side and the road on the other. Under the railway station we passed, on the cycle-path to a bus-stop where the waiting people stood back as the cyclists rode by. To Horley, past the Archway theatre, and on to open country, always following, to the aerodrome, to the cafe there.
2.1 Cycling, like walking, does take a person to parts which are not otherwise visited. Back-roads, roads that are not made up, roads which link main ones, roads which are used by horse-riders, paths that run through quiet residential areas - these were the ways which took us, eventually, to the pleasure of the cafe.
3 It could have been early spring. The sun was warm on the face. The cafe was welcoming. Some of my companions ate their full breakfasts. Two police officers ate their food whilst wearing their full armed-response kit, including the armoured jacket, two hand-guns, and various other bits and pieces. In the Sunday Mirror there was a piece about Mrs Gordon Brown's step-grandfather, if I recollect correctly, who had accompanied the nuclear material to Christmas Island for one of the tests and who had flown in a sniffer Canberra. (Perhaps he was one of the crew in the Canberra which was piloted by our Master (recently-retired) of Grapple Re-union ceremonies.) According to the piece he died of leukaemia some 50 years after his exposure.
4 A shorter return ride, but one which was sufficiently long for me to try Andrew Chadwick's new bike. Just a top-of-the-class road-bike. The saddle was so high that I could barely put my feet on the pedals. Even so, I could recognise a highly-bred bike for what it was. New Year, new road-bike for me. I must begin my conversations with Ian.
5 About 40 miles of level cycling. In all probability, the concluding bike-ride of the year. There is a chance that I might be able to ride for an hour tomorrow afternoon. I'll need to be organised. I have two SSAFA visits to make, and then there re jobs to complete in East Grinstead, one of which will be the purchase of a saw so that I can saw at least something of the silver birch which has fallen across the Forest Way. And silver birch burns well.
6 I have spoken of your being in phase 2 of a three-phase holiday, phase 2 being the sea-phase. Even a prosaic description of the phase - the boat, the company, the congregation of mother and daughters - presents an enviable picture. Enviable.
Saturday, 29 December 2007
Families
1 I'll begin with a partial one and then move to a whole, Holy one. I said Hello to Hannah and Liam at Mass earlier this evening. I raised a familiar question: why was Jesus not called Immanuel? The conversation was continued at Liam's house, where he put the question into Google. The discrepancy between the prophecy and the outcome was recognised in a list of websites.
2 Does it matter? (Or should we just sing the familiar words?) Well, it matters to those to whom it matters. The website show that the question is a familiar one, to those to whom it is familiar. I sense that the question, and other ones, are part of the common currency at (even the most conservative of) seminaries. The question has never been mentioned, so far as I can remember, and yet the discrepancy is glaring. No-one says 'Hey, wait a minute, I have a question'.
3 I also think about Joseph. The Catholic tradition has it that Jesus was an only child. Now let's run with that assertion. It means that Joseph never fathered children, even though the assumption is that he and Mary and Jesus formed the Holy Family. (Remember the Millais painting The Workshop.) Mary, ever-virgin; Joseph, never the consumator. Never discussed. That is, never discussed in the pews.
4 And the family (who were) on the boat? Jolly fine boating, I hope. I can imagine that, as I key, you are all enjoying the boat, the company, the Monopoly. What a remarkable opportunity for you all. What a remarkable opportunity to spend a week in each other's company on a boat, in fine weather, on a fine sea. To what enduring recollections it will give rise. No discrepancies, no disputes.
5 It does require an effort of will (an unsuccessful effort) to think of a bike-ride in cold weather as the equivalent to a boat-ride (for a week) in the warm. No, no matter how hard I try.
Don
2 Does it matter? (Or should we just sing the familiar words?) Well, it matters to those to whom it matters. The website show that the question is a familiar one, to those to whom it is familiar. I sense that the question, and other ones, are part of the common currency at (even the most conservative of) seminaries. The question has never been mentioned, so far as I can remember, and yet the discrepancy is glaring. No-one says 'Hey, wait a minute, I have a question'.
3 I also think about Joseph. The Catholic tradition has it that Jesus was an only child. Now let's run with that assertion. It means that Joseph never fathered children, even though the assumption is that he and Mary and Jesus formed the Holy Family. (Remember the Millais painting The Workshop.) Mary, ever-virgin; Joseph, never the consumator. Never discussed. That is, never discussed in the pews.
4 And the family (who were) on the boat? Jolly fine boating, I hope. I can imagine that, as I key, you are all enjoying the boat, the company, the Monopoly. What a remarkable opportunity for you all. What a remarkable opportunity to spend a week in each other's company on a boat, in fine weather, on a fine sea. To what enduring recollections it will give rise. No discrepancies, no disputes.
5 It does require an effort of will (an unsuccessful effort) to think of a bike-ride in cold weather as the equivalent to a boat-ride (for a week) in the warm. No, no matter how hard I try.
Don
Wednesday, 26 December 2007
On the Downs
The car-park in Ditchling was full. Over the road, in the Sun's car-park, the growing crowd waited for the Boxing Day display of the Ditchling mummers. A space, boots on. A walk to the track which leads up the slope, passing a man in shirt-sleeves on the way. In a field, a sheep was suckling two lambs, each numbered 151. Early-spring lambs or do sheep copulate and conceive at any time of year?
One step at a time is an easy rule to follow on sticky paths. Switch off the brain and switch on the legs; let the legs get on with it. (I noted the time when I left the road.) Hands behind my back; no gloves (but I did wear a woolen hat with a bobble). Keep going. Then a stop in order to stand and stare at the ground to the north, the wide expanse of cultivated land which is bounded by the North Downs. The sun shines. A lovely day, a lovely place to be on such a day.
Walk on, walk on. Step by step to the top (233m), a rise of some 150m. On the top, a couple of walkers, and a couple of joggers. Brighton is there in the distance. Softer slopes and inclines. The inland sea. The path towards the Beacon. A succession of walkers going west. At the top of the scarp, the properties south of Ditchling face the scarp. Well-developed properties. A post provides a convenient leaning-post to look over those properties. A sandwich. A place to be on such a day. At the Beacon, the path to Ditching runs close to the road and then breaks away. Down to the narrow road and back to the village. About two hours. Back to Wivelsfield Green, Slugwash Lane, Lindfield, Ardingly, and home.
One step at a time is an easy rule to follow on sticky paths. Switch off the brain and switch on the legs; let the legs get on with it. (I noted the time when I left the road.) Hands behind my back; no gloves (but I did wear a woolen hat with a bobble). Keep going. Then a stop in order to stand and stare at the ground to the north, the wide expanse of cultivated land which is bounded by the North Downs. The sun shines. A lovely day, a lovely place to be on such a day.
Walk on, walk on. Step by step to the top (233m), a rise of some 150m. On the top, a couple of walkers, and a couple of joggers. Brighton is there in the distance. Softer slopes and inclines. The inland sea. The path towards the Beacon. A succession of walkers going west. At the top of the scarp, the properties south of Ditchling face the scarp. Well-developed properties. A post provides a convenient leaning-post to look over those properties. A sandwich. A place to be on such a day. At the Beacon, the path to Ditching runs close to the road and then breaks away. Down to the narrow road and back to the village. About two hours. Back to Wivelsfield Green, Slugwash Lane, Lindfield, Ardingly, and home.
Tuesday, 25 December 2007
Christmas Day working in the House
The portions were far, far too large. The five or six in the kitchen had cooked the turkeys and all that went with them. The tables had been laid. The 30 or so diners were fitted to the tables. Once the starter had been consumed, the plates were delivered to the tables, each plate carrying what could be described as a mountain of food. At the servery, I watched the foundation of vegetables being passed so that the layers of turkey could be laid upon the foundation. Too much, too much
And so it was. A diner who ate half the contents of the plate would have taken sufficient for the rest of the day. I collected plate after plate on which half the contents remained. It was common for the diners to apologise: 'I'm sorry, but I just couldn't eat it all'. Back to the kitchen where the remains were deposited in a bin. A shame.
It could have been different. The resident are served three meals a day. Whilst any one of the others, the non-residents, may be hungry, none is starving. Accordingly, it would have been seemly to have reduced the portions by half, at least. A diner can always ask for more. None did, by the way. The working assumption seemed to be that the Christmas lunch is to be much bigger than the day-to-day one.
Well, the diners contradicted that assumption. It was reasonable to assume, it seemed to me, that there would be a special quality to the meal. And so there was. There were clean, white tablecloths. There were crackers on the table. Turkey with all the trimmings was the main ingredient of the meal. It was a special occasion; it was a special meal. And I sense that the providers, those worthy volunteers in the kitchen, would have complemented those surrounding features if they had supplied the smaller portions. Instead, they emphasised quantity. There was a sense, it seemed to me, of 'Get outside that', and the diners didn't.
The elderly man who came late to the lunch was one who cleared his plate. He sat quietly. I opened a conversation. He had been brought from Crawley (about a mile or two). Where he going? Not yet settled. It could be Worth Abbey. Or it could be Turners Hill, close to the abbey, where there was a warm, dry place he could sleep in. He was waiting for a sleeping bag. I mentioned East Grinstead. If I could take him there, he said, he could sleep in the (RC) church hall. In review though, he reckoned that he should go to Crawley, towards Gatwick, as he wanted to get to Redhill. I drove him to Redhill where I left him, in the rain, at the bus station. He'd wait there and then make contact with the local (RC) priest, who would let him sleep in the hall.
We said 'Hello' to each other, the man with the flushed face of a drinker and I. He had been a SSAFA client earlier in the year. Then, he and his partner had been living in a privately-rented flat. Both were drinking. Rent arrears had been cleared. Utility bills had been paid. Later in the year, the flat was occupied by others. The two had left without trace. We met some weeks ago in Open House. An arrangement to meet at a local cafe was unrealised. Now he had the looks of a man who is in the (early) process of being eroded by drink. However, he said he had stopped. I gave him my mobile number. He is to telephone me next Monday.
Before lunch, I had collected two non-residents from their flats in Crawley; when the day-centre close, I returned them. There was time for a half-hour visit. Then, home. In for the remainder of the evening. Books and a fire. (Alas, I must put an axe to the logs tomorrow. They're too big.)
And so it was. A diner who ate half the contents of the plate would have taken sufficient for the rest of the day. I collected plate after plate on which half the contents remained. It was common for the diners to apologise: 'I'm sorry, but I just couldn't eat it all'. Back to the kitchen where the remains were deposited in a bin. A shame.
It could have been different. The resident are served three meals a day. Whilst any one of the others, the non-residents, may be hungry, none is starving. Accordingly, it would have been seemly to have reduced the portions by half, at least. A diner can always ask for more. None did, by the way. The working assumption seemed to be that the Christmas lunch is to be much bigger than the day-to-day one.
Well, the diners contradicted that assumption. It was reasonable to assume, it seemed to me, that there would be a special quality to the meal. And so there was. There were clean, white tablecloths. There were crackers on the table. Turkey with all the trimmings was the main ingredient of the meal. It was a special occasion; it was a special meal. And I sense that the providers, those worthy volunteers in the kitchen, would have complemented those surrounding features if they had supplied the smaller portions. Instead, they emphasised quantity. There was a sense, it seemed to me, of 'Get outside that', and the diners didn't.
The elderly man who came late to the lunch was one who cleared his plate. He sat quietly. I opened a conversation. He had been brought from Crawley (about a mile or two). Where he going? Not yet settled. It could be Worth Abbey. Or it could be Turners Hill, close to the abbey, where there was a warm, dry place he could sleep in. He was waiting for a sleeping bag. I mentioned East Grinstead. If I could take him there, he said, he could sleep in the (RC) church hall. In review though, he reckoned that he should go to Crawley, towards Gatwick, as he wanted to get to Redhill. I drove him to Redhill where I left him, in the rain, at the bus station. He'd wait there and then make contact with the local (RC) priest, who would let him sleep in the hall.
We said 'Hello' to each other, the man with the flushed face of a drinker and I. He had been a SSAFA client earlier in the year. Then, he and his partner had been living in a privately-rented flat. Both were drinking. Rent arrears had been cleared. Utility bills had been paid. Later in the year, the flat was occupied by others. The two had left without trace. We met some weeks ago in Open House. An arrangement to meet at a local cafe was unrealised. Now he had the looks of a man who is in the (early) process of being eroded by drink. However, he said he had stopped. I gave him my mobile number. He is to telephone me next Monday.
Before lunch, I had collected two non-residents from their flats in Crawley; when the day-centre close, I returned them. There was time for a half-hour visit. Then, home. In for the remainder of the evening. Books and a fire. (Alas, I must put an axe to the logs tomorrow. They're too big.)
Chase the Goose or Never Believe a Thai
1. One orders a goose a month ago in all good faith that it will be there at the appointed time. One rings on the day to check that everything is in order and what does one get? The news that they have a cooked Turkey for one together with gravy. That's Thailand whatever is promised take with a pinch of salt.
2. Fortunately we had been in a small German shop the previous day and noticed that they sold geese, and they still had one. Raymond was brought home and defrosted in the bath. Despite Jingle Bells and Dreaming of a White Christmas, there has been no evidence of queues. Usual heavy traffic and bustle, but no queues.
3. The gym remained to be accomplished on Christmas Eve. The joints decided they had had enough after the preceding days exertions.
4. Kaaren's driver has a wife who was expecting a baby at 10p.m. yesterday evening. Another Thai custom. The pregnant woman is given a time slot to have the baby. Natural childbirth does not seem to occur here.
5. The meeting with Jaap was interesting. Not one, two or even three but eleven of them. The mother, the brother and family, the sister and a cousin all meeting in Bangkok to spend Christmas. China meets Holland with a small interference from England. The calvalcade including the wheelchaired sister are off to the beach on Wednesday.
6. The Christmas meal was good - no feeling of overeating. Just right. The East Grinstead monopoly gift went down well, so well that Kaaren was envious. I have made a promise to buy one for her on my return.
7. The watching. A DVD entitled the Mighty Heart was harrowing to watch. A kidnapped journalist Danny Pearl who was beheaded and cut into ten pieces in Pakistan in 2002.
8. The tailor has the correct measurements. I made sure I delivered them as soon as I could. He had already worked out that they were incorrect.
Faraway
2. Fortunately we had been in a small German shop the previous day and noticed that they sold geese, and they still had one. Raymond was brought home and defrosted in the bath. Despite Jingle Bells and Dreaming of a White Christmas, there has been no evidence of queues. Usual heavy traffic and bustle, but no queues.
3. The gym remained to be accomplished on Christmas Eve. The joints decided they had had enough after the preceding days exertions.
4. Kaaren's driver has a wife who was expecting a baby at 10p.m. yesterday evening. Another Thai custom. The pregnant woman is given a time slot to have the baby. Natural childbirth does not seem to occur here.
5. The meeting with Jaap was interesting. Not one, two or even three but eleven of them. The mother, the brother and family, the sister and a cousin all meeting in Bangkok to spend Christmas. China meets Holland with a small interference from England. The calvalcade including the wheelchaired sister are off to the beach on Wednesday.
6. The Christmas meal was good - no feeling of overeating. Just right. The East Grinstead monopoly gift went down well, so well that Kaaren was envious. I have made a promise to buy one for her on my return.
7. The watching. A DVD entitled the Mighty Heart was harrowing to watch. A kidnapped journalist Danny Pearl who was beheaded and cut into ten pieces in Pakistan in 2002.
8. The tailor has the correct measurements. I made sure I delivered them as soon as I could. He had already worked out that they were incorrect.
Faraway
Monday, 24 December 2007
Queues in Waitrose, and a bike
The last day, the last day, that is, before the shops close for two days. It will be two days before it will be possible to pass through the doors of Waitrose. So people piled in today. There were queues, long ones, at all the tills. (Meanwhile, there was intelligence to the effect that Sainsbury's was full and that, for those inside, part of the fun was queueing for up to an hour. Hurrah for Christmas, I say.
Still, the bike was better. Kit on, no heed of the voices which said 'Take it easy. Just sit down', pump the tyres, and then it was time to climb the steep slope to Hurst Farm Road. Legs of steel. Up the steeper slope from the roundabout. How long is it since I've been on a bike; there's still time to return home and make some tea. Up Vowels Lane, past a Santa express. What is the lure of steam trains? To the top, to Turner's Hill (Who was Turner?) Cappuchino and a hot sausage roll. Idling in Crawley Down. Down the hill to Felbridge. Along Imberhorne road. Back to the Close. Oh, is that the time? Pity. There'll be no time for a swim.
Christmas in a non-Christian country. I have spent Christmas, in Arabia, but in the company of British. Jingle bells in Thai? I wonder if there is the same inclination to buy loads of food; probably, there isn't as the shops will be open tomorrow and the day after and every day, as far as one can make out.
An article in The Economist challenges customary notions about inequality, income inequality, within a country. The familiar measures, the familiar proxies for economic well-being, may be misleading. The data on consumption show what we have spent but not the benefits, the utility, we derived from the spending. According, so The Economist reports, the evident difference between what people spend is wider than the benefits which the spenders report they gained from the spending.
I have sent more cards, listed more cards, and written some letters. The letter to Michael Hill remains.
In conclusion, ahead of the preparation of my simple meal, in the company of a book, I wonder about the latest measurements which I sent. There being no acknowledgement, I am prey to the thought that they have not been received, that the industrious tailor has already worked to the original ones.
Hurry, hurry to the internet cafe.
Stayathome.
Still, the bike was better. Kit on, no heed of the voices which said 'Take it easy. Just sit down', pump the tyres, and then it was time to climb the steep slope to Hurst Farm Road. Legs of steel. Up the steeper slope from the roundabout. How long is it since I've been on a bike; there's still time to return home and make some tea. Up Vowels Lane, past a Santa express. What is the lure of steam trains? To the top, to Turner's Hill (Who was Turner?) Cappuchino and a hot sausage roll. Idling in Crawley Down. Down the hill to Felbridge. Along Imberhorne road. Back to the Close. Oh, is that the time? Pity. There'll be no time for a swim.
Christmas in a non-Christian country. I have spent Christmas, in Arabia, but in the company of British. Jingle bells in Thai? I wonder if there is the same inclination to buy loads of food; probably, there isn't as the shops will be open tomorrow and the day after and every day, as far as one can make out.
An article in The Economist challenges customary notions about inequality, income inequality, within a country. The familiar measures, the familiar proxies for economic well-being, may be misleading. The data on consumption show what we have spent but not the benefits, the utility, we derived from the spending. According, so The Economist reports, the evident difference between what people spend is wider than the benefits which the spenders report they gained from the spending.
I have sent more cards, listed more cards, and written some letters. The letter to Michael Hill remains.
In conclusion, ahead of the preparation of my simple meal, in the company of a book, I wonder about the latest measurements which I sent. There being no acknowledgement, I am prey to the thought that they have not been received, that the industrious tailor has already worked to the original ones.
Hurry, hurry to the internet cafe.
Stayathome.
Sunday, 23 December 2007
Who won the war?
Don't forget that Thailand declared war on the USA and the UK in 1942. So perhaps you could learn the Thai for 'Well, who won the war, then?'. The question will show your interest in the history of the country. Still, it would be fair to acknowledge the anti-Japanese movements within Thailand and the co-operation between these movements and the British and US forces. At the end of the war, Thailand might well have been treated as an enemy power. Any public recollections of, any memorials to, the war?
There remains in my mind the relationship between local religious beliefs, education, industrial structure, and suchlike and the inclination towards and practice of democratic forms.
Giles, Helen, Humphrey, and Ashley have been here. The news of the pregnancy was given to Ashley. If I recollect, it will be general news in about a week's time.
There remains in my mind the relationship between local religious beliefs, education, industrial structure, and suchlike and the inclination towards and practice of democratic forms.
Giles, Helen, Humphrey, and Ashley have been here. The news of the pregnancy was given to Ashley. If I recollect, it will be general news in about a week's time.
Quiet times
1 Peaceful and unpeaceful. Let's begin with the latter if only to conclude with the former. The young quandam wife is living in her grandmother's flat, her grandmother being in Australia, with her two children. Her onetime husband still lives in, has the key to, the married quarter. Given that her story is true, the young man (22) needs medical care, medical to include attention to what's inside the head.
2 I visited with a woman who has taken the caseworkers' course, who has taken cases for the RBL, and who may take a case or two for SSAFA. The woman's father took the older daughter to the park. We took our tea and chatted. The story, money, the immediate future. Her father and mother live in Bewbush. She will live in a flat which her father owns and which he is renting (to two rent-payers whose tenancy will be terminated). I will contact the young woman after Boxing Day.
3 And so to a peaceful evening. I wrote two letters to people to whom I would otherwise have sent a card. I'll write a few more. I listened to more of Lohengrin. I read The Economist. And I read about the Anglo-American invasion of Algeria in November 1942, the occasion when Vichy armed forces fought, sometimes hard, against the British and the Americans. (I recall that the USA maintained an ambassador in Vichy; I'll check: Google will know.)
4 Giles, Helen, Ashley, and maybe one of Ashley's offspring - singular form only ? - will arrive early afternoon. Between now and then I will eschew cycling and get on with some jobs. Ironing, yet more cards, tidying - that sort of thing. There may be time for a 10-mile ride later on. And after they have left, then I reckon that I should go to the gymnasium. (Yesterday, my companion, who works in CVS, spoke about fora. I think of one bus, two bi.)
5 I keep an eye on the reports of the elections in Thailand. And, as I key, one thought leads to another. I wonder about the connection between religious belief and the forms of government. In western Europe (or, as it was once known, Christendom) we remember the Enlightenment. I wonder to what extent there is a connexion between secularism and a movement from autocracy towards what we understand as democracy. (I remember too that it is not yet 100 years since women could vote in general elections in the UK. In France, remember, women became entitled to vote in 1945.)
6 When in Rome, wrote the august mentor, do what the Romans do. Follow the local (Roman) practice. And take a large handkerchief to dinner (lest the meal include compulsory sheep's eyes).
The Close is peaceful.
Stayathome.
2 I visited with a woman who has taken the caseworkers' course, who has taken cases for the RBL, and who may take a case or two for SSAFA. The woman's father took the older daughter to the park. We took our tea and chatted. The story, money, the immediate future. Her father and mother live in Bewbush. She will live in a flat which her father owns and which he is renting (to two rent-payers whose tenancy will be terminated). I will contact the young woman after Boxing Day.
3 And so to a peaceful evening. I wrote two letters to people to whom I would otherwise have sent a card. I'll write a few more. I listened to more of Lohengrin. I read The Economist. And I read about the Anglo-American invasion of Algeria in November 1942, the occasion when Vichy armed forces fought, sometimes hard, against the British and the Americans. (I recall that the USA maintained an ambassador in Vichy; I'll check: Google will know.)
4 Giles, Helen, Ashley, and maybe one of Ashley's offspring - singular form only ? - will arrive early afternoon. Between now and then I will eschew cycling and get on with some jobs. Ironing, yet more cards, tidying - that sort of thing. There may be time for a 10-mile ride later on. And after they have left, then I reckon that I should go to the gymnasium. (Yesterday, my companion, who works in CVS, spoke about fora. I think of one bus, two bi.)
5 I keep an eye on the reports of the elections in Thailand. And, as I key, one thought leads to another. I wonder about the connection between religious belief and the forms of government. In western Europe (or, as it was once known, Christendom) we remember the Enlightenment. I wonder to what extent there is a connexion between secularism and a movement from autocracy towards what we understand as democracy. (I remember too that it is not yet 100 years since women could vote in general elections in the UK. In France, remember, women became entitled to vote in 1945.)
6 When in Rome, wrote the august mentor, do what the Romans do. Follow the local (Roman) practice. And take a large handkerchief to dinner (lest the meal include compulsory sheep's eyes).
The Close is peaceful.
Stayathome.
Asian Pastime
1. How do some Thais spend their leisure hours? And what gives them pleasure? I was about to find out when we visited the top floor of the Central World Shopping Arcade.
2. At the far end of the long bowling alley, there are a couple of doors behind which were two rooms with comfy sofas, a large screen, machinery and two microphones.
3. The fun then begins. Each person chooses their song and to a backcloth of scenery from various countries in the world, the words appear and off we go. What a racket, well depends on what sort of a voice one has.
4. The Thais enjoy spending their time and money singing away to songs of their choice for a couple of hours. Each to their own.
5. Last night was more a question of 'when in Rome' Some stayathomes would disagree with the comment, but the faraways would not like to be thought of as killjoys.
The diva
2. At the far end of the long bowling alley, there are a couple of doors behind which were two rooms with comfy sofas, a large screen, machinery and two microphones.
3. The fun then begins. Each person chooses their song and to a backcloth of scenery from various countries in the world, the words appear and off we go. What a racket, well depends on what sort of a voice one has.
4. The Thais enjoy spending their time and money singing away to songs of their choice for a couple of hours. Each to their own.
5. Last night was more a question of 'when in Rome' Some stayathomes would disagree with the comment, but the faraways would not like to be thought of as killjoys.
The diva
Saturday, 22 December 2007
Xmas in Buddha Land
1. Success I am in and discover I have five blogs on my dashboard. How about that! Not much written by me though.
2. I have written the measurements down and shall see what we can do. The Tailor may not be open tomorrow, Sunday, so will have to pop in early Monday morning. It will be a good idea to give him your email, but I shall be out of action for a week from Tuesday.
3. How strange it seems to see large Christmas trees and hear Xmas music in every shop we visit. Strange because it is hot and because this is a buddhist country. Perhaps they want to cash in on every celebration that is going. However, Kaaren did comment that more foreigners are walking the street than customary. The Europeans have vacated Europe.
4. We noticed a couple of large rallies as we travelled home last night. Election fever is not evident but the newspapers contain numerous articles. Seemingly candidates in the South are unable to canvas for two reasons; floods during the past few days and the troubles there - muslims versus buddhists.
5. Taksim is still very popular and it looks as though his party will win again. The majority of the population want him back in power despite his corruption. Karstein has chatted to some relatively poor people who revere Taksim despite his huge wealth and lack of distribution of that wealth. He has set up a few social projects in the North of the Country.
6. We are off to a dry Kareoke this evening. To sing without a glass of wine that will prove taxing. Should be OK with jingle bells and rudolf.
7. Preparations for the boating holiday are progressing. Two kayakes have been organised and everyone is on the case for some lilos. Not sure the girls would be too impressed if I flaunted myself in my bikini. Have had strict instructions to keep top on.
8. How was Open House. Sounds as though SSAFA would not let you go. What happened to the wife beating case.
The weary one.
2. I have written the measurements down and shall see what we can do. The Tailor may not be open tomorrow, Sunday, so will have to pop in early Monday morning. It will be a good idea to give him your email, but I shall be out of action for a week from Tuesday.
3. How strange it seems to see large Christmas trees and hear Xmas music in every shop we visit. Strange because it is hot and because this is a buddhist country. Perhaps they want to cash in on every celebration that is going. However, Kaaren did comment that more foreigners are walking the street than customary. The Europeans have vacated Europe.
4. We noticed a couple of large rallies as we travelled home last night. Election fever is not evident but the newspapers contain numerous articles. Seemingly candidates in the South are unable to canvas for two reasons; floods during the past few days and the troubles there - muslims versus buddhists.
5. Taksim is still very popular and it looks as though his party will win again. The majority of the population want him back in power despite his corruption. Karstein has chatted to some relatively poor people who revere Taksim despite his huge wealth and lack of distribution of that wealth. He has set up a few social projects in the North of the Country.
6. We are off to a dry Kareoke this evening. To sing without a glass of wine that will prove taxing. Should be OK with jingle bells and rudolf.
7. Preparations for the boating holiday are progressing. Two kayakes have been organised and everyone is on the case for some lilos. Not sure the girls would be too impressed if I flaunted myself in my bikini. Have had strict instructions to keep top on.
8. How was Open House. Sounds as though SSAFA would not let you go. What happened to the wife beating case.
The weary one.
Television and Measures
1 The television has been taken along with the stand and the bits. Happy viewing, Andrea.
2 And here are the measurements. Chest 980mm; waist 970; outside leg 980; inside leg 780; across the shoulders 570; arm - from the shoulder to the beginning of a shirt cuff 595, cuff itself 60; total 655; length of a jacket from under my arm to the bottom of the jacket 510.
2.1 See what the tailor makes of these measurements. If anything looks seriously awry, then let me know. Give me the tailor's e-mail and an order number or name and I'll send the revised measures direct to the tailor.
3 SSAFA continues. There will be a brief call at 1200. There will be a longer call, in company with a colleague, on a woman who had fled from a violent husband. Then: kindling for the fire (as I have the logs); some food; Chartham Park, and a fire and a book and music for the evening.
3.1 Doug sends his best wishes. He delivered some presents yesterday evening. He called just as Any Questions had begun . We chatted .... for two-and-a-half hours.
4 You're settling (have settled) in to local rhythms. Enjoy the company.
5 Kabul. I have a sense of London as being about 12 miles by 12. If we allow London to be something like 150 square miles, then Kabul is about 10% of the extent. Keep an ear out for interesting stuff.
6 Later today, I will put out your black wheeled bin.
Stayathome.
2 And here are the measurements. Chest 980mm; waist 970; outside leg 980; inside leg 780; across the shoulders 570; arm - from the shoulder to the beginning of a shirt cuff 595, cuff itself 60; total 655; length of a jacket from under my arm to the bottom of the jacket 510.
2.1 See what the tailor makes of these measurements. If anything looks seriously awry, then let me know. Give me the tailor's e-mail and an order number or name and I'll send the revised measures direct to the tailor.
3 SSAFA continues. There will be a brief call at 1200. There will be a longer call, in company with a colleague, on a woman who had fled from a violent husband. Then: kindling for the fire (as I have the logs); some food; Chartham Park, and a fire and a book and music for the evening.
3.1 Doug sends his best wishes. He delivered some presents yesterday evening. He called just as Any Questions had begun . We chatted .... for two-and-a-half hours.
4 You're settling (have settled) in to local rhythms. Enjoy the company.
5 Kabul. I have a sense of London as being about 12 miles by 12. If we allow London to be something like 150 square miles, then Kabul is about 10% of the extent. Keep an ear out for interesting stuff.
6 Later today, I will put out your black wheeled bin.
Stayathome.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)