Goodbye 2019

Just a very quick wee blog post to sign off from 2019. We’re having a family Hogmanay at home and I’m feeling very cosy and happy. What with recent events we didn’t want to go out this year. Today is my 57th birthday and, for the first time ever, I had to work out what age I am - no doubt due to the high number! We have had a peaceful and pleasant end to the year; Margaret came round yesterday afternoon for a cup of tea, and then James produced a bottle of wine! It was great to see her and catch up on news. This morning I was showered with attention, thoughtful gifts, flowers, messages and a lovely phone call from Jamie - by 11a.m. in Scotland it was already New Year’s Day in New Zealand. Then we went down to Biggar where I celebrated a joint birthday lunch with Bill, who turned 80 on Boxing Day. There were eight of us and it was a very happy occasion. Cat arrived back from Canada later in the afternoon and there was a flurry of late Christmas gifts to and from her before we had dinner. Anyway I shall get on with the festivities - happy Hogmanay from Casa Anderson!

Duddingston Loch

Last night Ally and I were introduced to a new board game by David and Chanel. It is called Betrayal at House on the Hill, and is a proper strategy game, much more complicated than board games I have played before. Luckily our experts David and Chanel were on hand to explain it, and it was good fun. In the first part the players construct the house with it’s different rooms and tasks, and then suddenly and unpredictably second part - the Haunting - begins. It’s genuinely quite exciting.
The festive season continued today with a visit to Edinburgh to meet up with Janet, Peter and Anne at the picturesque Sheep Heid Inn beside Duddingston Loch. Despite being at the end of December, the weather was positively balmy, the sun was shining on the Loch and it was hard to imagine the skating minister from the famous painting. We went for a walk before lunch; I took the low road and James, Ally, Davie and Chanel took the high road right up to the top of Arthur’s Seat.
We had a lovely round table at the Inn and had a most pleasant meal and afternoon in great company.
Jennifer messaged me to let me know that the writer and artist Alasdair Gray died this morning. I was sad to hear it; he was a delightful and very talented man. I met him at Aye Write on 12th April 2014 and I blogged about it the next day; it was a very special experience because he had met my Mum in 1952 and remembered the occasion.

Our But an’ Ben

To quote Paw Broon, “We’ve aye wanted a but an’ ben in the country.” In fact James and I have talked about purchasing a holiday home on and off for many years, but have never found the right place at the right price at the right time. We considered quite seriously buying a house in Brodick on Arran about twenty years ago, but it was far too much of a project and our plans went on the back burner for a while. Occasionally we discussed the subject, so it was never completely forgotten. Over the last couple of years, with the boys independent (more or less) and retirement ahead, we started contemplating the idea again. By this time we had become very interested in Ullapool, a wee town in Wester Ross of which we are both extremely fond. We had visited it separately as children, then as a young couple, then many times with our children and with the hill-walking club. We love all of the far north west, but at almost exactly a four hour drive from door to door, Ullapool is a reasonable distance from Glasgow for a weekend trip or longer. From there we can easily strike further north to Lochinver and beyond.
We scrutinised the estate agents’ websites and even registered with the local estate agent. We came close to bidding on a house in West Shore Street but it was not only very expensive and in need of refurbishment, but also too big for us - it crystallised our thoughts that (for now at least) we are looking for a holiday house and not a permanent home up north. And then a couple of weeks ago, I think about the 11th December, things started to move rather fast. The estate agent emailed us with details of a house in Morefield, a quiet area about 15 minutes walk from the centre of Ullapool. A white-painted detached cottage with a view over the river to the sea and mountains beyond, it’s in walk in condition and we really liked the look of it. We went to view it on Tuesday 17th December, by which time a closing date had been set for 11 a.m. on 19th December.
The house is great, we loved everything about it and had to think quickly. After much discussion in the Ceilidh Place we contacted our lawyer Ian, and our bid went in at 10 a.m. on the 19th. I was out later for coffee with Karen when James messaged me to say, “Just got a call from Inverness. We have bought a house.” We haven’t bought a house for more than thirty years so it’s all a bit of a shock - but hopefully a good one. Roll on 2020 - all being well we should get the keys in February.

Christmas around the world

Christmas Day will be over here in Glasgow in a few minutes. Jamie is well into Boxing Day in New Zealand where it is already lunch time. Cat and her family however are still in the middle of Christmas Day in Vancouver in Canada; it’s only four o’clock in the afternoon there. However we have all celebrated the day in our different parts of the world and have thought of each other and exchanged messages.
We had a lovely family day here. First of all Ally and Davie and Chanel opened their Christmas stockings and I think that they all felt that Santa had been good to them! James and I also received a Christmas stocking to share which was very thoughtful of Santa. We had carefully planned the timings for dinner so the turkey went into the oven at 9.45 a.m.
Marjory, Forrest, Jenny, Neil and Lucy came round in the morning for champagne and sausage rolls and we all had a nice chat. We watched the Queen’s speech at 3 pm and then served our Christmas dinner, which went very smoothly - everything was ready at the right time! Before we started eating we raised our glasses and drank a toast to Grandma. This has been our first Christmas without her - in my case for thirty-four years (since we got married) and for James and the boys, the first Christmas without her in all of their lives. We ate hugely but there was still lots left, so there will be plenty of leftovers for at least several days. We moved through to the lounge and played a card game called Codenames which was really interesting and challenging; I loved it. And later James and I went out for a walk to aid our digestion. The streets were unusually quiet as we strolled along. It’s a funny old day, Christmas; both strange and familiar. I’m glad that it has gone well.

It’s the night before Christmas

Yesterday we had an unexpected but very welcome invitation from Marjory and Forrest, who had spare tickets for a Christmas concert at the GRCH. So we happily went along and were treated to an excellent evening of festive songs. As well as an orchestra, choir and dancers, there were two excellent principal singers; Laura Tebbutt and Tim Howar. Tim Howar is the current (although not original) lead singer of Mike and the Mechanics and both singers have had many lead roles in London’s West End. Their voices were amazing. Soon we were all singing along, it was a great evening.
And here we are on Christmas Eve. This afternoon we went to see It’s a Wonderful Life at the Grosvenor Cinema in Ashton Lane, and as ever it was truly lovely. Back at home we ate more roasted chestnuts and chatted while watching Christmas number ones on an old edition of Top of the Pops.

Pasta and cocktails

Today we had our annual Christmas celebration lunch with Heather and Ewan. It was great to see them and we dined at the excellent Italian Kitchen in Ingram Street. As usual it was a fun occasion with good friends, and as usual a selection of our young ones (Ally, Davie, Chanel and Andrew) joined us afterwards at Metropolitan for drinks. This year a wide variety of cocktails were quaffed, including the strangely scented and lilac coloured rum-based “Parma Violet” and the foamy white “Breakfast Martini” which contains, among other ingredients, gin, marmalade and egg white.
We chatted about all sorts of things but my favourite conversation started when Andrew suddenly declared that pasta quills are the most boring pasta shapes. David was shocked and forcefully countered that tagliatelle was indubitably the most boring pasta. A lively and lengthy discussion ensued! James and I and Heather and Ewan headed home in the early evening while the younger folk continued on to more hostelries. It has been a lovely day.

Christmas traditions

Christmas won’t be the same this year without Grandma, however we feel that it will be comforting to celebrate it in our usual way. We have ordered the turkey from the butcher just the way she liked, and the tree is decorated with the star that James made in 1985 on top. We will meet up with Marjory, Forrest and all the young ones on Christmas morning, and then have a quiet traditional Christmas dinner at home. It’s all about family.

Glasgow is full of Christmas lights and music and I have wrapped all the presents. This week we went with Alison and Bill to the Oran Mor pantomime, which this year is “Dixie Whittington and the Hamecoming.” It was very funny and Dave Anderson was excellent as the pantomime dame. We noticed Robbie Coltrane in the audience, he didn’t look in the best of health. We went to Matilda’s for coffee and a chat afterwards. Then this evening we went the GFT to see James’ favourite film -  Elf * - with David and Chanel. It is such a lovely film and now we are back at home eating roasted chestnuts and drinking tea.

* Elf is actually James’ equal favourite film with Apocalypse Now and Lawrence of Arabia. 

Bittersweet

It has been a strange week. Although Jamie came home for the sad reason of Grandma’s funeral, it has still been lovely to have him at home. On Sunday we all went on the Hill-walking club’s annual mince pies outing to Aberfoyle; James was keen to get some fresh air and “blow the cobwebs away.” Well the weather was so wet and blustery that it nearly blew us away let alone any cobwebs! When putting on my boots I managed to pull a muscle in my back so painfully that it’s only just getting better now, six days later. Still, the atmosphere back at the warm and cosy Faerie Inn pub was rather jolly, especially when Santa arrived. There were some young children there this year, grandchildren of Heidi and of Jean and Tom, and they were extremely sweet.
During the week I had the opportunity to spend lots of time with Jamie, as did James, Ally and Davie. There were coffees and lunches and shopping trips into town. On Tuesday, an unfeasibly wet day, James, Jamie and I decided to visit the Hill House in Helensburgh, designed by Charles Rennie Mackintosh. Amazingly none of us had ever visited it before. I was very impressed. It’s a beautifully designed family home, commissioned by the family who ran the Blackie publishing company. Recently, to combat its terrible damp problems (archaeologist Neil Oliver has compared it to an aspirin in the process of dissolving) the house has been completely encased in an amazing mesh cage. This is designed to keep it more than 70% dry from rain, while allowing it to gradually dry out over several years. There are walkways over which you can walk and look down on the top of the house. I should add that it also has a delightful coffee shop where we had lunch and  I ate a delicious Empire biscuit.
While in Scotland, Jamie also met up with a few friends, voted in the General Election, and helped us to choose our Christmas tree. It was so great to see all of my three sons together in the evenings, chatting and laughing. But of course Grandma was never far from our thoughts. The boys talked about her and reminisced about things she used to say and do. So this week has been a bittersweet mix of happy and sad. Jamie set off back to New Zealand this evening. We will miss him but look forward to seeing him again when we visit him in February.

Tribute to Grandma

This is the short speech that James wrote about Grandma, and which Jamie delivered at her funeral, adapted slightly to refer to her as “Grandma” rather than “Mum.” I am posting it here because I think that it is worth remembering. The minister made a longer speech about Grandma’s life, of which my favourite anecdote was one that she used to tell the boys; that when she was a little girl she enjoyed dancing down the steps in her school playground, pretending to be Ginger Rogers.
Here is the speech that Jamie gave:

Thank you to everyone for coming along this morning to celebrate the life of my Grandmother, Jean Anderson. I know that some of you have travelled long distances to be here. 

Thank you also, for all your cards and messages which have been a great comfort to both Uncle Forrest, my Dad James and the whole family.

Grandma always seemed to be the person who stepped forward when help was required.

While Forrest and Dad were both still very young, their grandmother moved in with them and Grandma became her carer for the next 13 years as well as bringing up her boys.

When my Grandpa, Jimmy, had heart surgery, it was Grandma who nursed him back to health, and when he required kidney dialysis she was the one who got up to make sure he had his breakfast before he set off to the hospital at 7am. and over the years she was a kind and helpful friend to many people and a loving Grandma to the six of us.

However, following the fall 2 years ago in which she broke her hip, Grandma’s mobility became restricted and she in turn needed help. For someone who always liked to help others, this was difficult, but she still found ways to be there for us and was always ready for a chat.

Just last summer my when my Dad fell off his bike, it was Grandma who provided cotton wool and Dettol and made sure that his wounds were cleaned properly. 

So she was looking after her family right to the end of her life.

I would like to express our thanks to the staff of South Lanarkshire Council Social Work and, in particular, the Home Carers from Constance Care. Without the support from the Home Carers, Grandma would not have been able to maintain her independence and stay at home for the last two years.Thanks also to the friends who visited her faithfully.

Finally, we are very grateful to the staff at Abbeyfield Extra Care in Rutherglen who welcomed Grandma in when she was no longer able to manage at home and provided a place of comfort and safety for her. It was such a relief to Forrest and my Dad to know that she was being so well looked after in her final few weeks and they tell me that they will miss the home baking from their visits!

I hope that many of you can join us after the service at The Burnside Hotel to share your memories of Grandma.

Farewell

I think that Grandma would have approved of her funeral. The family gathered at her house to wait for the funeral cars to collect us, and it reminded us of waiting there on the day of Jimmy’s funeral fourteen years ago. The service was very traditional, led by the lovely minister from Burnside Church, with hymns The Lord is my Shepherd and Dear Lord and Father of Mankind. Both of her sons and all six of her grandchildren were present. Jamie, who had arrived from New Zealand on Friday, gave a short speech on James’ behalf which focused on Grandma’s love of helping others. Forrest and the minister gave readings and then we all went back to the Burnside Hotel where we had sandwiches and cakes. Everyone chatted and told fond stories about Grandma and the old days down at Anderson’s coal yard.
By the time the last guests had left at about 3 pm we were exhausted and, back at the house, James lit the fire in the lounge, where we sat and relaxed and talked and played Trivial Pursuit. It had been a long day but I felt that we had all done our duty to Jean and said a proper farewell.

Murder Mystery

We went to see a film this evening at the luxuriously refurbished Showcase Cinema with Heather and Ewan, called “Knives Out.” Heather and I had intended to see it last week but our plans clashed with our family meeting with the minister about the funeral. When we rescheduled it for this evening the boys decided to come with us. All I knew about the film was that it’s a murder mystery starring Daniel Craig, and unlike James I do like a murder mystery. James finds them to be a waste of time and finds the inevitable twists and turns of the plot annoying.
Well, I enjoyed it! Right enough it was arrant nonsense, with a tortuously convoluted and unlikely plot. However I thought that was good fun although it would definitely have benefited from being a bit shorter. James, seated to my left, fell asleep near the beginning of the film and started snoring gently. I thought that this was very funny and turned to the person on my right * to draw their attention to this. To my surprise and amusement, that person was also asleep! Both of them woke up again, although James later ate a Minstrel sweetie and fell back to sleep with it in his mouth, causing him to choke on it and resulting in a coughing fit. Luckily I had a bottle of water with me which I passed to him. When the film ended and we emerged into the car park, chatting about it, I mentioned that James has never liked murder mysteries and we all burst out laughing. The evening was a welcome distraction from more serious matters.

* name withheld for reasons of discretion and loyalty.

Looking back and forward

So at last it is December. November was rubbish. This morning we woke to mist and thick frost. In the week after Grandma died it was very rainy but the temperature has turned much colder now. We have been busy making the arrangements for Grandma’s funeral next Saturday. We hope to give her the dignified and affectionate goodbye that she would have liked.
We have been out and about for walks, to the gym, and even to a concert of Wagner’s music at the City Halls on Thursday but it has all been overshadowed by our sadness. We just miss her so much.
This afternoon we went over to visit Heather and Ewan who are also going through such a sad time. It was lovely to see them and we went for a walk before a cosy cup of coffee with mince pies back at their house. We talked about life and how it changes and plans for the future. It’s so important to look forward as well as back. We found it very comforting to be in the supportive company of good friends who know only too well how James is feeling.
When we got home Cat was cooking the dinner and Ally, Davie and Chanel were making cocktails. They are all so full of life and enthusiasm. They are Grandma’s legacy and so is our Jamie, who will be arriving home on Friday.

Grandma

I’m very sad to say that Grandma died yesterday evening. Although her health has been declining, especially over the last two years since her big fall down the garden steps, it has been a shock to the whole family. She had been a bit tired over the past week or so and the doctor had visited but didn’t find anything particularly the matter. We were all very upset when she passed away, although for her it was very peaceful. The nursing home staff were so kind and insisted on making us a tray of tea and biscuits. I felt so sorry for James and Forrest as they sat there drinking their tea, trying to take in the sad news that we all knew would come some day.

David came along to the nursing home to say goodbye, and we had to phone Ally, who is in Luxembourg for the weekend, and Jamie in New Zealand. It felt awful telling the boys that their Grandma had died. We waited at the nursing home until the undertakers arrived and then went home feeling sad and empty. I had forgotten how bad grief feels and today it came crashing down. We can’t make any funeral arrangements until Monday so we have informed family and friends and spent time together chatting. Chanel arrived from Liverpool to take care of Davie and I’m glad that Ally and Cat are together in Luxembourg. I just wish that I was with Jamie to give him a big hug. 

The Wee Lochan

Since it is Thursday, James and I were back in the West End this afternoon for our French and Geology classes. We are both still really enjoying them and I find my classmates to be very pleasant. I had more preparation than usual for today; I had the usual homework to hand in, I needed to hand in my first Written Assessment early (because I will miss the class next week when I am visiting Jennifer) and also I had promised to write a list of some of my favourite French films for one of my classmates. I wrote synopses for half a dozen of the French films that I like the most and also lent him my copy of Jean de Florette and Manon des Sources as a starter. I did warn him that I’m no expert on French films and that it’s a very subjective list!
After the class I met James and we walked into town again through Kelvingrove Park. My Dad used to be adamant that in order to keep safe you should never take a shortcut along any lane in Glasgow, it was something that he felt very strongly about and that I have always obeyed, even in broad daylight. I have often quoted this to James when he has suggested nipping along a lane to save time, and today James mentioned it to me as we were strolling along. I thought that it was very sweet that my Dad’s words are still remembered! We went to Mandors in Renfrew Street so that James could choose fire retardant material to upholster a footstool. Yes you read that correctly! James will be going to a French Polishing and Upholstery course this weekend, and he’s looking forward to it very much. I can’t wait to see the results.
We then took the Underground back to Hillhead, jumped into the car and drove to The Wee Lochan restaurant in Crow Road, arriving just in time for our 6 p.m. booking. We have not been there before although we have heard it recommended; we were lucky to be using a voucher given to us by Marjory and Forrest. I liked this little restaurant very much. The starter in particular was outstanding (monkfish in tempura batter but that simple description doesn’t do the delicious complexities of the dish justice) and the atmosphere was friendly. It was very busy but not too noisy; I would definitely return.

Timon of Athens

I’m not long back from seeing the RSC’s Timon of Athens broadcast live (well actually recorded live during the 2018 season) from the Swan Theatre in Stratford. I saw it with Caroline at Cineworld, and, as I have blogged before, I am very much converted to this way of watching a really excellent theatre performance. And really excellent it certainly was! I have neither read nor seen Shakespeare’s Timon of Athens before tonight, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. The cast were all brilliant but Kathryn Hunter stood out as Timon - she had such presence and was so full of energy.
So, no spoilers, but rich and generous Timon of Athens has lots of friends - until she runs out of money. Then everything goes wrong. Timon of Athens has apparently often been regarded as an unfinished play because some characters are not fully developed and some of the plot lines are a bit strange. I would agree with this and would also comment that Timon is kind of annoying - going from totally over-the-top generosity to huge bitterness! However the play was still really good with a mix of comedy and tragedy; as Caroline said “You can’t go wrong with a bit of Shakespeare!”
In the morning I visited Grandma and we were writing Christmas cards together. Grandma always likes everything to be organised in good time for Christmas and she has been keen to get started on her cards. I have updated her Christmas card list (from several address books and last year’s list!) and got cards and stamps. She was sitting in the living room having a cup of tea and was chatting but a bit tired. We were chatting to another lady who was very friendly. We only got eight cards written but have plenty of time to finish the rest before it’s time to post them.

Copper coins

James and I popped over to the New Victoria Hospital this morning for an appointment to get one of Grandma’s hearing aids replaced after it had accidentally been through the washing machine! I was really impressed at how quickly I was seen, and the lady who sorted it out was extremely pleasant. I have found out how to get the attention of hospital reception staff very quickly - when I arrived at the hearing aid clinic reception, I couldn’t help overhearing a lively discussion that the receptionist was having with a customer over the phone, where she kept repeating “No, you can’t get here from Hamilton * in seven minutes!” and I could hear the customer’s angry protestations (clearly the customer was going to have their appointment cancelled because they were late). And indeed the receptionist was correct, there’s no way that they could have made it in that time. So I was standing listening interestedly, nay, avidly, to the back and forth conversation, when suddenly the receptionist from the other desk noticed my nosy demeanour and came rushing over to escort me from the area and immediately found the hearing aid technician for me. So my top tip to get attention is to look as if you are enjoying yourself too much while waiting!
This left us with more than an hour before our next errand in nearby Sinclair Street; James wanted to get his guitar re-strung and the guitar shop didn’t open until 11 a.m. So we went for a walk around the perimeter of Queens Park and enjoyed the fine and frosty morning. The oak trees were shedding the last of their leaves, making a whispering noise as we stood beneath them. We tried to take photos of the leaves fluttering down in the sunshine, but couldn’t do them justice. We saw some beautiful silver birches whose fallen leaves were scattered on the grass below them and James compared them to copper pennies - that’s just what they looked like! We also nipped up to the flagpole at the top of the park at James’ request (Anderson’s always like to ascend to the highest point) and could see lovely views across Glasgow to the University and beyond to snow capped Ben Lomond.
When we arrived at the guitar shop we still had time for coffee in a wee shop called Blether across the road; it was just as well that we weren’t in a hurry because it didn’t open until at least twenty past eleven!
Having dropped off the guitar it was time to set off to the west end to see Play, Pie and a Pint. This week it was Cranhill Carmen, which was quite good - a modern and somewhat more feminist take on the Carmen story.

* Place name changed for reasons of discretion.

Family Sunday

We had a lovely family day today. James and I walked along to Burnside to visit Grandma in the morning; the weather was crisp and chilly with blue skies - absolutely beautiful. We bought her some flowers in Tesco on the way. She was quite tired today and was spending the morning in bed. After a chat we returned home and had lunch with Ally and Davie. We had James’ hearty homemade minestrone soup with homemade bread and it was all delicious. We were entertained by the sight of Flora climbing up one of the pear trees in hot pursuit of a magpie. She really had a good try at catching it; she boldly ran up the branches towards where it was perching several times! Needless to say it flew away each time, but it must have been annoyed because it kept returning to the tree and squawking angrily at her. She is so funny; she looked like a wee koala sitting upright on a branch and holding onto the trunk of the tree. Tom appeared downstairs at this point and took advantage of Flora’s absence to request and devour a fresh bowl of cat food without her.
We then spent the next couple of hours playing The Game of Life which was great fun. James is not particularly enthusiastic about board games and had to be persuaded to join in. His reluctance was very amusing, and several times he lamented about how long the game was taking, but actually he was a good sport about it. I liked all the wee activities and digressions caused by the “action” cards and they had us laughing. Alasdair won (of course) with James a close second. We moved to the front room where we chatted some more over a cup of tea, and ended up eating dinner while watching David Attenborough on the television.

A walk through Glasgow

James took me on an interesting walk on Thursday; a scenic route from University Avenue down through Kelvingrove Park, over the footbridge at Charing Cross and along Renfrew Street. We had been to our French (me) and Geology (James) classes in the afternoon, which we are still both mightily enjoying. Having arrived in the west end by train, we decided to head into town on foot, since we were going to a concert at the City Halls in the evening. We cut through one of the University’s quadrangles and emerged at the top of the park from where we saw a stunning view over the city. The sun was low in the sky, lighting up the buildings laid out below us. Then we strolled down into the park where we joined other walkers and quite a few cyclists, all wrapped up against the November chill. We continued over the Charing Cross footbridge; the traffic below us was already backed up towards the motorway and we were glad that we weren’t in the queue of cars. As we walked along Renfrew Street we passed the renovation work being done on the burnt out Art School. That is going to take a long time to complete I should imagine, because the building was almost completely destroyed by the fire. We had to divert round the block behind it because of course it was fenced off. And then we arrived into the busy city centre.
Along Sauchiehall Street we strode, then down the hill to St Vincent Street, where we stopped for a drink in old favourite All Bar One, and found that we were definitely in the target age group although most other people were in groups and wearing office clothes. And then the last leg of our journey took us to the Merchant City where we had a delicious curry in Koolba. It even passed James’ stringent standards!
The concert was Richard Strauss’s Don Quixote, preceded by Prokoviev’s “Chout” suite, and Marbé’s Eine Kleine Sonnenmusic (a tribute to Mozart and very heavy on the percussion). It was all very enjoyable and yet none of it particularly stood out for me. We got the train home in time for a cup of tea with the boys.

Back at One Spa

I was back at the One Spa in Edinburgh’s Sheraton Hotel today. I do love a spa! This time I was there with Marjory and we had a good afternoon of chat and swimming and trying out all of the spa rooms. Our favourite was the dry salt spa room, where the walls really do taste of salt (don’t ask me how I know that) and also there is a salt spray that goes off every few minutes. Of course I also loved the outside jacuzzi pool. If it was a couple of storeys higher there would probably be a better view of the skyline of Edinburgh rather than just the neighbouring buildings but there’s not much can be done about that and it’s very pleasant. Another highlight was the “experience showers” which we found to be absolutely hilarious - you could choose from several experiences but my favourite was the “tropical storm” which included the sound of birds shrieking and even little flashes of pretend lightning as I was sprayed with warm water from all angles. Our lunchtime bento boxes of healthy food were surprisingly filling but we still managed a few more lengths in the pool before heading back to Glasgow.

Remembrance

I watched the annual Remembrance Day service on television this morning. It was a chilly but sunny day, and Ally and Cat were attending the service in London again. They had chosen an excellent spot from where they had a great view of the Queen and the other royals in the balconies above, as well as the ceremony and parade itself. As usual, I found it moving and an appropriate way to remember all of the armed forces who gave their lives for our country. I appreciate tradition all the more as I get older; it is often a sign of respect and comfort.
I felt that way about Heather’s Dad’s funeral yesterday. It was a very traditional Scottish funeral; both personal and dignified. Her brother spoke touchingly about his Dad, the minister spoke about his life, there were hymns and prayers. And then family and friends gathered at his local golf club for traditional rolls and sausage, very welcome on a chilly day. It was a good send off arranged by Heather and her family for a well-loved man who had lived his life well.

Winter is coming

I have just read Ewan’s blog about Heather’s Dad and found it very moving. It is a sad time for Heather and the whole family and at Casa Anderson we are all thinking of them. There is something very special about the love between fathers and daughters, and that love never ends. I know this.
Everything else seems very trivial just now. Electioneering is revving up and I’m sure we will all be very tired of it soon. When I set off at 5.15 this evening to meet some friends for a meal it was already completely dark; we really are getting towards winter.

Kyrgyzstan connections - a great film and a brilliant book

Firstly, the film. When James, David and I were having dinner on Friday evening (Ally having set off to visit Cat in London) we had a look at what films we might want to watch during the evening. If we don’t have a clear idea of a film that we want to see, we often get a bit stuck; finding a film that pleases all of us can lead to a mediocre compromise. But this time we struck lucky. We quickly came across a film that none of us had seen but which appealed to all three. It was a documentary called “The Dawn Wall” which followed two climbers, Tommy Caldwell and Kevin Jorgeson, A’s they attempted a new and incredibly difficult route up El Capitan in Yosemite National Park. If that sounds familiar, it’s because about a year ago we went to the GFT to see a film called “Free Solo” which was also about a climb up El Capitan, by Alex Honnold. And it turns out that the two films were released only about ten days apart. However “Free Solo” seems to be the better known of the two documentaries, perhaps because it went on to win an Oscar.
The difference between the two types of climbing is that the term “free solo” refers to climbing alone, without any ropes or harnesses, therefore any mistake at all can easily be fatal. “The Dawn Wall” on the other hand features “free climbing” which is just as difficult, climbing using your own physical strength with no support such as hooking onto the rock, but using equipment such as belays solely for safety.
“The Dawn Wall” was excellent. Like “Free Solo” it featured the climbers’ lives and backgrounds as well as the climb itself. As a very young man, Tommy Caldwell and a group of friends had been kidnapped while climbing in Kyrgyzstan. In order to escape Tommy pushed one of his captors off a cliff. This naturally had a huge impact on his life and his first marriage. Both men are amazing climbers and their journey was fascinating.
Secondly, the book. When visiting a new country, Alasdair likes to read a book by a local author. I thoroughly approve of this and often do the same thing myself, and sometimes I also watch a film about the area. When he went to Kyrgyzstan in the summer he read a book called “The Day lasts more than a hundred years” by Chinghiz Aitmatov (actually set just over the border in Kazakhstan), and then recommended it to me. I have read it over  the last week, for some reason expecting it to be a bit grim, but in fact I have loved it! I would go as far as to say that it’s the best book that I have ever read. It is fantastic. Published in 1980, it’s set in the 1970s with lots of flashbacks to the 2nd world war and the 1950s. The story is about Yedigei, who is making his way by camel across the Sarozek steppe to the Ana-Beitt cemetery to bury his recently deceased old friend Kazangap. On the way he recollects his past life as well as various Sarozek legends. The characters in the book live a hard life working at the Boranly-Burannyi railway junction, “where the trains go from west to east and east to west ...” Yedegei has a legendary and wild camel called Karanar, and animals are an important part of the book. He is loyal to his family and friends, and has had his share of troubles in life during the Stalinist regime. The parts that moved me most involved his relationship with another family in his tiny village whose father has been taken away for interrogation. The little boy Ermek very much reminded me of Alasdair and I have to admit that I cried several times while reading the book. But it isn’t all sad; there are funny parts and surreal parts, there are evil monsters and “mankurt” zombies, and even a weird subplot about the Soviet space programme that involved aliens! It really is the book that has everything and I loved every minute of reading it.

A drizzly weekend

It has been a pleasant weekend. We were meeting Linda and Alistair for dinner in Glasgow on Saturday evening so, since it was a rainy afternoon, we decided to go to the cinema first. The only film and venue which tied in perfectly with our dinner time was the latest Terminator film (called Terminator: Dark Fate) at Cineworld. We decided that this suited us well enough, so turned up at the cinema at 4.30 p.m. We watched the first Terminator film in 1984 so that’s thirty-five years ago! We have only seen one other of the six films in the franchise but the plot of the latest one wasn’t hard to follow. In fact apart from a few small changes it seemed to be almost identical to the original film. I couldn’t help noticing that Arnold Schwarzenegger looked pretty old (because he is!) which is a bit surprising since you would think that a robot wouldn’t age. But David later explained to us that the getting older thing was explained in one of the other films. How convenient for the aging star. Despite being arrant nonsense, the film was quite watchable because it was full of action; those terminators are extremely difficult to kill. There were lots of in-jokes and references to the previous films, for example Arnie saying sadly at one point, “I won’t be back!” Ho hum.
Today I was at a book club house-warming party at Jenny’s. Her new flat is gorgeous and very spacious. Again it was a rainy day, so how nice it was to sit around chatting with these funny, clever, gorgeous women. When I was walking home later from the station I was reflecting on the afternoon and I felt very happy.

First Frosts

So it’s getting colder and we have had a couple of frosts. The olive tree is now indoors for the winter. James was very excited when he looked out of our bedroom window and saw that there was snow on top of Ben Lomond.
My ankle continues to be very sore after my fall on Sunday, and has developed a rainbow of bruises despite the fact that I didn’t even fall to the ground when I tripped and hurt it. I had an x-ray in Monday which seemed to be clear but I received a letter today from the hospital which informed me that I have a “subtle fracture” and that they would like me to come back in on Tuesday.
In other news, I went to a Supper Club at Waitrose in Milngavie this evening, which was a dinner cooked by Masterchef winner Gary Maclean. The menu was delicious and everyone got chatting about food and good restaurants in Glasgow. There was a question and answer session at the end of the meal and Gary was very informative and personable; he spoke very frankly about his career and what motivates him.

Two Falls

In my usual clumsy way I fell down a small step at the top of Buchanan Street today. We had popped into the Concert Hall to collect some tickets that we had ordered online, but found that the Box Office is closed on a Sunday. No matter, we set off back down towards our lunch date with Heather and Ewan in Royal Exchange Square. When we passed the statue of Donald Dewar I glanced back at it; I always feel a connection to him because my Mum knew him when he was a wee boy. And that resulted in my downfall - I didn’t even see the step that I tripped on and although I didn’t fall right down, my foot bent outwards at the ankle with a searing pain. I yelled in pain and sat down on the step to recover. Two very nice gentlemen from the nearby “Free Kashmir” demonstration ran up to bring me some water. After thanking them, I managed to hobble down Buchanan Street while leaning rather heavily on James’ arm, and the pain eased off somewhat.
I’m glad to say that my tender ankle didn’t cast a pall on our lunch with Heather and Ewan. It was great to see them both and we had a pleasant lunch in Zizzi’s. We were joined by Alasdair and Andrew, who had enterprisingly decided to join us since the two of them had planned to meet up anyway. So we were a jolly table of six, and we enjoyed hearing about some of Andrew’s recent adventures in Australia.
It has in fact been a rather social weekend. On Friday I went to the cinema with Jackie to see the Downton Abbey film. I was not daunted by the fact that I have seen not a single episode of the popular television programme, because I assumed that the film would be “stand alone” and so it was. Of course the characters would have meant more to the real aficionados who had watched all seven series of Downton Abbey, but Jackie gave me a quick run down of the main characters on our journey to Springfield Quay, and I found it very enjoyable. The setting and the costumes were beautiful and I like a period drama. And then on Saturday evening Marjory, Forrest and Lucy come round for a Chinese meal. It was Chanel’s 23rd birthday and we followed the meal with birthday cake. She and David had enjoyed a day out together in Glasgow and then we had a lovely family evening.
After my fall this morning the day strangely ended with another fall, but not mine. We had just been watching an interesting documentary about California on BBC2, including a segment about giant redwoods. We had just finished a cup of tea and were expecting the comedy show Live at the Apollo to come on next, although we were just about to head to bed anyway. But instead, with no introduction, a film started with a masked mob hanging a man in a forest. We were very puzzled and a bit horrified as he plunged from a wooden gibbet down into a hole. But instead of stopping short, the rope just went on and on spooling. We didn’t see the man, just the rope running so fast down into the hole in the forest floor that it was burning a groove in the cross beam of the scaffold. It was so weird. I won’t reveal the ending - it only lasted five minutes - and when it ended there were no credits, and the next programme duly commenced. So needless to say we googled it, and I found a review on the Guardian website which explains that it’s a short film by Jonathan Glazer called The Fall, and speculated as to its meaning. Well, it certainly had us intrigued!

A couple of symphonies

James and I were back at RSNO’s “Symphony, Soup and a Sandwich” yesterday lunch time to listen to Dvorák’s Symphony no. 5. This time we just booked tickets for the concert and didn’t get a ticket for the soup and sandwich; although undoubtedly good value for money it’s perhaps aimed at an (even) older age group than ours, and anyway is very filling for lunch time. The upstairs concert hall was packed to see Jirí Rožeñ conducting this folk song inspired symphony, which romped along cheerfully. Emerging into the sunlight we did a bit of shopping before heading home.
And then this evening we were at the City Halls (luckily I checked the tickets or we would have ended up back at the GRCH!) to hear Sibelius’ Symphony no. 2 conducted by Thomas Dausgaard, who I think looks a bit like Father Ted. I found it very pleasant, but the star of the evening for me came in the first half, when the amazing pianist Yuliana Avdeeva played Tchaikovsky’s Piano concerto no. 1. Oh my goodness it was brilliant, especially the grand introduction to the first movement. On the other hand I was not impressed by the first piece which was Maxwell Davies’ An Orkney Wedding. I’m sure that I’ve heard it before but I had forgotten how rubbish it is. Apparently he wrote it after going to a wedding on Hoy; how rude of him to write such discordant and mocking music. I hope he was never asked back. Being at the City Halls, James and I were reminded of a music-loving friend, Steven, whom we ran into nearly every time that we went there. Sadly, he died at the beginning of the summer and we both felt his absence this evening.

Grandma and Autumn

James and I have been experimenting with different routes to visit Grandma in her nursing home in order to find the most direct and pleasant walk. We have honed it down to 30 minutes by using a couple of leafy lanes to cut a corner, and it is becoming part of our daily routine. As we had planned we have made her room more homely with a selection of her pictures and photos, a plant for her window sill and a vase of flowers. We also took round plenty of clothes and filled her en suite bathroom with her favourite toiletries So far Grandma is settling in well and particularly enjoys the excellent food and baking. However she has been suffering from a chest infection so she’s on antibiotics and also is getting some of her medication adjusted. This has resulted in her being very sleepy so we are still very concerned about her. Hopefully her health will improve.
The weather has been fine and sunny so far this week so we have been our enjoying the autumn colours. On Monday we had a splendid walk up Lowther Hill in the Borders, from where we could see Wanlockhead nestling in the hills below us. Later we rewarded ourselves with a very nice cake and coffee at the wee Mining museum. And then on Tuesday we went over to Pollok Park for a stroll through the fast falling leaves and through the vegetable gardens to the river. And naturally another tasty coffee break ensued.

A cold and the Joker

Since I have returned from London I have been struck down by the dreaded lurgy - in other words a very annoying cold. I stuck close to home for a couple of days but am now starting to get out and about again. Today James and I went for a very sunny walk along the beach at Troon from where we had fine views across to Arran. I felt refreshed and glad to be outdoors.
Last night we went on a cinema trip to see Joker, a film starring Joachim Phoenix focusing on the background of the Joker from the Batman films. Oh dear oh dear oh dear! I will not give away any of the plot but I have seldom seen such a depressing and harrowing film. I must admit that I had been expecting a dark thriller, with some humour thrown in, but that is certainly not what this film is about. Instead it is a searingly tragic observation of someone with a mental illness in an uncaring society. I can’t have been the only audience member who was taken aback by its unremitting bleakness. On the other hand, Joachim Phoenix is an amazing actor who was perfect as the Joker. He reminds me a bit of Daniel Day Lewis in the way that he seems completely to become the character he portrays. David and Chanel have gone to see the film this evening and I can’t wait to discuss it with them.

The Queen - twice!

James had a good idea for the last day of our London break. Monday was the State Opening of Parliament so he suggested that we go along to Horseguards Parade to see the Queen pass by in her carriage. Fortified by breakfast at Pret A Manger (yet again) we went along and found ourselves part of a large crowd waiting for the Queen. Along came the carriage, drawn by beautiful white horses, and we could clearly see the Queen and Prince Charles inside it; the Queen was wearing white robes. Then James had another brainwave. We crossed through Green Park to the Mall and waited to see the Queen on her way home from the Houses of Parliament to Buckingham Palace. We didn’t have too long to wait, and I managed to take some good photos as she passed by. James then navigated us expertly to Waterston‘s flagship bookshop in Piccadilly, where we had lunch up on the 5th floor overlooking the roof tops. Our last port of call was the Royal Academy. We haven’t been in there since the Paintings of Gardens exhibition four years ago and since then it has been extended. We had coffee in the poster room and then a wander around the permanent exhibits. My favourite section was by 18th century artist and sculptor John Flaxman, who did a series of excellent outline drawings of the Iliad and the Odyssey which proved to be an inspiration for 19th century graphic novels and 20th century comic strips. The way he drew them is clearly the basis for Marvel superheroes in action.
All too soon it was time to go to the airport to head home. The journey was fine but unfortunately I have brought a souvenir home with me from London. It’s a horrible head cold, no doubt caught on the plane on Friday or on the Tube during the weekend. I have been feeling very sorry for myself all day and James has heroically been providing me with many cups of tea.

Matilda and the Ivy

On Sunday morning we had breakfast again at Pret a Manger in Paternoster Square - I love their pains aux raisins. The bells of St Paul’s were pealing mightily. It was only a short walk from there to the Guildhall art gallery where we were meeting Cat. She had told us of an exhibition there of paintings of the architecture of London. What a find! It’s a lovely wee art gallery and the exhibition was fantastic; such a variety of paintings of London from all different eras. We all loved it. There was also a Roman amphitheatre in the basement of the building which we could walk around, and a nice wee collection of 19th century paintings.
We spent so long there that we only just had time for a quick snack before going to see the musical “Matilda” at the Cambridge Theatre. This being a Sunday matinee there were plenty of children there, and we found ourselves sitting beside a friendly Finnish family comprising of a Mum, Dad and two young daughters. The musical was good and the child actors were amazing; they danced and sang tirelessly throughout. My one wee criticism would be that it was hard to make out Tim Minchin’s lyrics during all the action that was going on; due to their lesser experience the children’s diction was understandably not as clear as that of the adults in the production. The music was lively but I didn’t find it to be particularly memorable, not compared to “Wicked” for example, from which I can still remember various songs. It was a good show though, and full of life. Afterwards it was time to go to our old favourite the Ivy for dinner - it was very handy for the theatre. The food was excellent and it was great to chat with Cat, we had a lovely evening.

Covent Garden and Brad Paisley

We were planning to meet Jennifer for breakfast on Saturday morning but sadly Ben was unwell so she quite rightly stayed at home to look after him. Our Dad used to say “Look after those boys!” So he would definitely have approved. So we had breakfast with Cat at Pret A Manger in Paternoster Square before heading across the river to the Tate Modern. I wanted to see the current exhibit in the Turbine hall, which is Kara Walker’s Fons Americanus fountain. It’s supposed to satirise the colonial era fountains and monuments which are to be found in London by exploring the underlying slavery and racism. Hmmm, very worthy I’m sure, but I would have been more impressed if it had been more detailed and carved more skilfully. It could have been so much better if she had spent more time on it.
Off we then set for a rather rainy riverside walk along to Covent Garden where we had lunch in the old fruit market while listening to classical musicians and visited Stanford’s bookshop where James had a voucher to spend. It was lovely to wander around Covent Garden together.
Our big event of the evening was to see Brad Paisley at the O2 arena. It’s years since we have been to a concert there and we thought that there were more eateries than we remembered. The place was hoaching but luckily we had booked a table in Las Iguanas where we had a tasty meal. I loved the concert. James isn’t so keen on Country Music and naughtily insisted on calling Brad Paisley by the wrong name; Deke Stetson and Dwayne Spurs are only two of the many names he made up. But it was good-natured of him to come along with me and although he declared that “all the songs were the same” (this was not true by the way!) he admitted that Brad was a good showman, which he definitely was. Brad has a great voice, I love his music, and he was so enthusiastic and chatted to the audience about how much he loved being in the UK. We were treated to “Brad’s Magic Kiss Cam” which was great fun and he had good banter with his excellent support act, Chris Lane, who came on again to sing a song with him. Then towards the end of the concert Brad told us that he wanted to give us value for money, and said “Here is my buddy Keith Urban!” And sure enough Keith Urban came leaping up onto the stage and they played about four songs together. It was tremendous. The audience were all very excited by this, including me, however James remained unmoved and asked, “Is Keith Urban one of Midland?“ which I’m sure he knew fine well was not the case! It was a great evening.

Ottolenghi and the Almeida

Later on Friday we made our way to Islington to go to a play at the Almeida Theatre. But first we had dinner just across the road in Ottolenghi. I was very excited to visit the restaurant (I believe that there are four now around London but Islington was the original) because I have one of their cookbooks and enjoy Middle Eastern cookery. The staff were extremely attentive and praised our choice of food. One waiter even admired my hair colour and referred to it as “biscotti blonde!” and the food arrived promptly and was beautifully presented.
But..... I can hardly bring myself to write this ..... it just wasn’t as outstanding as I expected. I enjoy eating in well-known and / or Michelin starred restaurants because I love to try interesting and exciting food. And I have been lucky to try some great restaurants over the years. Friday night’s food was just not as brilliant or flavoursome as I had hoped. It was not as good as Palomar in the theatre district or Glasgow’s Five March, both of which use the same kind of simple ingredients cooked really well. It wasn’t bad - it was just disappointing. James felt the same way. Their desserts were really good mind you. Next time I might just go for coffee and cake in the afternoon.
The play at the Almeida was absolutely excellent. It was by Maxim Gorky and was called Vassa. It was about the manipulative matriarch of a dysfunctional family, who was trying to keeping the failing family business going for her ungrateful offspring. It was excellent and the cast were all very good, especially the matriarch, who was played by the extremely talented Siobhan Redmond. I hadn’t been sure what to expect but it was pleasingly lively and very funny at times. By the time we got back to our hotel we were both absolutely exhausted after our early start.

Rebellion and Design

On our arrival at London City Airport there was absolutely no sign of the Extinction Rebellion protestors that we had heard would be disrupting our travel. They had been protesting at City Airport the day before with some success, and had planned to try to close it over the weekend, but today there was no sign of them. I felt rather short-changed. The lack of protestors was made up for (and indeed explained!) by the huge amount of police officers. Our route from security through the small airport to the DLR was lined every step of the way with yellow jacketed police. And we noticed a very high police presence around London all weekend. We saw a few hundred rather damp looking protestors in Trafalgar Square as we passed there on Saturday evening; they seemed subdued, perhaps because of the weather. We also saw about half a dozen on Monday morning, stretching a banner at waist height across a busy road at a pedestrian crossing. When the lights changed, all of the waiting cars started honking their horns angrily and the polite rebels immediately shuffled back onto the pavement.
I find myself rather torn about Extinction Rebellion. Part of me admires their dedication and how much they care about our world. But part of me resents having others’ views imposed on me, however well meaning - I spent far too much of my childhood and youth being told by various sources what I should do and think, so I don’t tolerate it very well nowadays. Perhaps I am the real rebel.
After a pleasant light lunch in the Members’ Lounge at the V&A (thank you for the great Christmas present Jennifer!) we decided to join one of the free tours of the museum. The tour guides are all volunteers and while she was very knowledgeable, Our tour guide had an extremely quiet voice which left our group straining to hear her in the noisy entrance hall of the museum. It was easier to make her out as she took us through into less crowded rooms. It was good to take a tour because although I have been to several exhibitions there and enjoyed its tea rooms, I have never been quite sure of its purpose. Well, it turns out that it’s all about design, which fits in with the Christian Dior exhibition that we visited earlier in the year. When the Victoria and Albert Museum (as it was later named) was established in the early 19th century, Britain was apparently regarded as strong in manufacturing but not so good at design. So this museum was intended to showcase design, both old and new.
This has resulted in an interesting but eclectic collection of exhibits from around the world. I found myself wondering what isn’t design? For example there was a giant room full of massive plaster casts of carved columns from Rome, which apparently have preserved the designs in better condition than the originals, which continue to be eroded by weather and pollution in their native city. Very impressive, but how is that different from many of the exhibits in the British Museum?

A move for Grandma

As I write this the rain is lashing against the windows in the back room and bouncing across the slabs; it’s an absolute downpour! But what is most remarkable is the sky which is an amazing bronze colour.

I have been rather preoccupied over the last few days and have not given much thought to blogging. This is because it has become clear that Grandma is not well enough to live on her own just now. She’s very frail and increasingly confused. So, with the help of an excellent social worker, we have been investigating temporary care homes for her. Understandably, Grandma was very wary of this suggestion at first. However she has come round to the idea because I think she realises that she now needs much more help. James and Forrest spent several days visiting care homes in the vicinity and interviewing their managers. One care home really stood out because of its small size and friendly atmosphere. It also prides itself on its home cooking and lovely gardens. Nowhere is perfect, but it seems like a really good place for Grandma to build up her strength. Realistically, she might never be strong enough to live back at home, and I think she understands this. However we are all regarding this as an interim move to see how she gets on. She asked today what would happen if she doesn’t like it and we promised her that we would look for somewhere else.

It’s certainly time for her to leave the hospital. They have done all they can for her and while they are taking care of her physical needs they are too busy to give her proper care. The television in her room is broken and also they keep forgetting to replace her hearing aid batteries. I will not relate the whole saga of how they managed to break her hearing aids and then didn’t get them repaired for five days because they were the “wrong type” until I took them over to the New Victoria myself, because it makes me too irritated. They didn’t mean to be unkind, they’re just run off their feet. So we hope this will be a positive move. Tomorrow we will take some of her own clothes and photos and ornaments to the care home so that it feels homely for her arrival. I popped round for the first time today and met the deputy manager and it certainly seems like a very nice place. Fingers crossed that all goes well.

Ben Elton

Last Tuesday evening David and I went to see Ben Elton at the Pavilion. Unfortunately James couldn’t come because he had an important meeting at the hospital about Grandma, so David kindly stepped in to accompany me at the last minute. The interesting thing was that David had no idea who Ben Elton is, so I wondered what he would think of him. Although very well-known in the 1980s and extremely successful since then at all sorts of ventures including writing comedies such as Blackadder, Ben Elton has never quite had the wider appeal of some of his contemporaries such as Rik Mayall or Stephen Fry. Perhaps that’s because Elton is more edgy and has a strange combination of earnestness as well as comedy. He could be very funny and then the next minute a bit uncomfortably intense. I have always liked him and was looking forward to seeing how his stand up seems nowadays.
I’m glad to say that he is still very sharp and funny at 60. His comedy was very much aimed at his age group which includes me and indeed the huge majority of the audience on Tuesday night. His routines about teenage children and music for the elderly were spot-on and hilarious. And the way he went from jokey to serious to ranting and back to jokey seems to me exactly the same as I remember him. If anything, I would say that he was a little too careful about what he said. He was clearly aware of the offence-taking atmosphere of 2019 and was careful to justify and qualify his comments a bit too much. David agreed with this but also pointed out that Elton contradicted himself from time to time, for example by proclaiming that all men have a collective responsibility regarding historical discrimination against women, but later saying that you can’t generalise about people’s reasons for supporting a particular political party. It was interesting listening to him trying to make sense of politics today compared to what he understood in the 1980s.
He was full of energy and entertained us for more than two hours without so much as a glass of water to sustain him. And although some of the ranty parts of his routine sat slightly awkwardly with the more traditional stand up comedy parts, I thought it was a great evening and that he well deserved the standing ovation that he received from the audience.

Two French experiences

Despite suffering from a cold, Cat very kindly kept our date a week ago last Monday to watch one of my favourite French films, “Ponette”. I first saw this film in the late 1990s (it was released in 1996) and it made a huge impression on me. When we watched the film it seemed even grimmer than I remembered, however I still enjoyed it and the acting by Victoire Thivisol was extraordinary for a four year old. I was touched that Cat was willing to watch it for me and she even coined the term “Linguistic Lundi” which impressed me - I have loads of French films on DVD that I would like to get round to watching and I had thought of having a weekly “Multicultural Monday” when I would watch them, but Linguistic Lundi (or perhaps Lundi Linguiste?) is much better. Needless to say James, Ally and Davie have mercilessly mocked my cultural aspirations, however when I suggested “Wetherspoons Wednesday” they were quite enthusiastic!
In another cultural event, I went to see a play with Heather last night at the Theatre Royal called “What’s in a name?“. It was a quirky little play translated from a French play called “Le Prénom” Although the place names and some of the characters names have been changed into English, it still had a really French feel to it. It reminded me a lot of the play that we went to see last year about the painting, “Art”, which was also translated from French. In both plays an incident (the purchase of a painting, the naming of a baby) provokes a huge amount of Parisian middle class discussion, the digging up the past resentments and grudges, and finally a revelation and resolution. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Heather is the perfect theatre partner, she is willing to give anything a go and as a result we have seen some good plays over the years, and among those some real gems.

Nanny’s Café in Shieldaig

Monday was the last day of our September weekend jaunt to the north west. I had the rather splendid idea of revisiting Shieldaig before we headed south, mindful that Nanny’s Café is open on Mondays. But first I suggested a 5 km walk around the peninsula just to the north of the village. Ally, Cat, Christine and Gerry joined James and me for the walk. Shieldaig has a pair of sea eagles on the island and we could see them flying about. The walk was a bit more strenuous than I had anticipated! There was a simple bit effective sign painted onto a rock by the path which indicated by a zigzag symbol that one way was hilly, and by a wavy symbol that the other way was more gentle. We did the circuit, starting with the hilly way, and were soon clambering up rocks to reach a stunning viewpoint. We also ended up climbing a small cliff with the assistance of a chain! As promised the second half of the circuit was gentler and we were soon enjoying lunch at Nanny’s, sitting outside at a picnic table overlooking the loch. The food and home baking was truly excellent; the salmon chowder was fantastic and Ally and Cat shared a generous seafood platter.

James and I bade our farewells and set off in plenty of time for our planned meet up with Alison and Hugh in Nairn. Or so we thought. We had slightly underestimated the journey time, we had forgotten that we needed to stop for diesel on the way, and there were some roadworks, which annoyingly delayed us a bit. However we phoned ahead to Alison to let her know that we were running late and before too long we were enjoying coffee and scones in the lovely town of Nairn. It was great to see them; and their house is very nearly finished now. They should be moving in by the end of the month. I can hardly imagine what it will be like for them to move into a brand new house, every detail of which they have designed themselves, and I can’t wait to see it myself! After a good chat James and I commenced the final part of our travels, down the A9 to home, where the young ones and the cats were all waiting to greet us. 

Beautiful Diabeg

On Sunday, Gerry joined Christine and me for the day, and we set off for a sunny walk to the Kinlochewe nature reserve. We had a pleasant woodland walk to the informative Beinn Eighe visitor centre, where there was a large plaster model of all the mountains in the Beinn Eighe area, upon which Gerry could trace the route of his massive walk on Saturday. Fortified by coffee and scones from the Gorse Bush café back in the village, we set out by car for Shieldaig. It was just as attractive as I remembered, but unfortunately Nanny’s café (highly recommended by Christine and Gerry) was closed (to be fair, they are entitled to a day off!) So at Christine’s suggestion we drove back to Torridon and thence to Diabeg. Christine and Gerry have never been there before and we were all stunned by the beauty of the tiny village. Despite its extremely inconvenient location at the end of a long, twisty and narrow road, I would actually love to have a cottage there! Better still, there was a gorgeous café, Gille Brighde - which is the Gaelic for Oystercatcher - that was definitely not there in my last visit, where the friendly owner, Aart and his wife served us delicious soup and home made bread even though it was close to their closing time. Just as we were enjoying our leek and sweet potato soup, who came strolling in but Ally and Cat, who had just climbed Ben Alligin. They had (wrongly!) thought that they could drive via Diabeg to Gairloch. What a lovely treat to run into them by chance in such a remote and beautiful location. We all had a walk around the harbour and took photos, before embarking on the winding 19 km journey back to Kinlochewe.

Edible crabs in Loch Ewe

Yesterday while the others in the hill-walking club were climbing many mountains around Kinlochewe including Beinn Eighe and Beinn Alligan, Christine, Miriam and I headed for Inverewe Gardens. We were counting on the forecast sunshine to see them at their best; however when we arrived it was raining so we went for coffee and cake in the pleasant tea room. I think I’ve mentioned on my blog before that the tea room at Inverewe Gardens as where an old lady once wished me luck to “see my boys up” so it has good memories for me. By the time we had finished our coffee the rain had gone off and blue sky was peeping through the clouds.
Christine knew most about horticulture and was kind enough to give us a tour of the different kinds of flowers. Osgood Mackenzie‘s house is now open to the public so we had a look round it. Designed in 1929, it is beautifully light and airy. We also spontaneously booked ourselves onto an hour long boat trip from the jetty at the end of the gardens. This has only been running for the last couple of seasons and it turned out to be great fun. The skipper is called Jamie and he is very knowledgeable about the wildlife of the area so he pointed out birds such as grey herons and cormorants as we chugged along Loch Ewe. He also stopped a couple of times to lift fishing creels to show us what was in them. He produced green crabs, velvet crabs, big brown crabs and tiny starfish. The brown crab is also known as the edible crab, which ill-omened name I doubted that the crab would have chosen for itself! We returned to the jetty along the Inverewe peninsula with great views of the gardens. Soon we were wandering through the walled garden enjoying the huge variety of flowers and vegetables which are grown in adjacent rows. I wonder if potatoes grow particularly well in the vicinity of dahlias because they were planted in alternating rows. Or perhaps the flowers are there simply to add colour to the rows of vegetables. Back in Kinlochewe we joined the rest of the group, who were in varying states of exhaustion after their strenuous hill-walks, for a hearty dinner.

On the road to Kinlochewe

We are currently driving to Kinlochewe for the weekend. Well, James is driving, and I am blogging. We are also listening to Midland’s new album. I am enjoying it considerably more than James, who keeps singing his own cheeky words to the tunes. Admittedly his words are quite funny.
I had one of my recurring dreams about my Mum last night. She was still alive in my dream and we were on holiday, but I had gone out without remembering to check that she was ok and had eaten her breakfast. The rest of the dream involved trying to get back to her to take care of her, but I was delayed again and again by increasingly unlikely scenarios. I woke feeling anxious and flustered. I think that this is probably linked to James’ and my current worry about Grandma, who is still in hospital and not doing too well. Also I met a lovely lady in Grandma’s ward the other day who told me that she was born in September 1931 - just like my Mum. So it’s not hard to work out why I had the dream.
The weather is mixed so far and according to the forecast is will continue to be a mixture of sunshine and showers for the weekend. I’m glad that we have booked a room in the comfort of the Kinlochewe Hotel instead of joining Ally and Cat in the more spartan bunkhouse next door.

* Update on arrival at the Hotel - our room is very nice indeed! Alasdair (who has organised the weekend) has done us proud.

Students again!

The political situation in the country just now is very volatile, with all sides fighting and shouting each other down. When James and I were enjoying a coffee on Tuesday in Café Gelato, it was clear that James is very sure of his views of the situation. It occurred to me that one of my ex-colleagues has diametrically opposite views to those of James, but that like him, he is absolutely certain that he is right. I quite envy them because I think that one of my problems, both politically and in fact in all aspects of my life, is that I can see both sides of most stories. This can be very uncomfortable because for me the world is never clear cut or easy. It occurred to me that despite their opposing views James and my ex-colleague have more in common than they do with me!
Today James and I became students! We have both signed up to do short courses at Glasgow University, from which we both graduated in the 1980s. We pass through the campus all the time but it feels strange to be sitting in a classroom there again. I really enjoyed my first French lesson. I was very much in my comfort zone, however it was good to go over the basics again and I did learn some new vocabulary. Also I think that the course will progress quite fast. There are fourteen of us in the class and everyone seems friendly and supportive. Meanwhile James had his first Geology lecture, which was a much bigger class and quite lively and hands on from what he tells me.
We didn’t have time to hang about in the West End being students today, because we headed straight over to visit Grandma in hospital in East Kilbride. Then we picked up a curry on the way home, with the excuse that we will be in Kinlochewe tomorrow evening so will miss our usual curry night. I chose a film to watch while David and James and I were eating it: Wild Rose, which is about a Glaswegian country music singer, and it was enjoyed by Heather and Ewan when it was on cinema release. I thoroughly enjoyed the music, the Glaswegian scenery and two of the children were even wearing the uniforms of the boys’ old school Hutchie! I think that Jessie Buckley, who I have already admired in the film of the musical Les Miserables, and in a supporting part in the recent television series Chernobyl, is extremely talented at both singing and acting.
My only slight criticism is that the Glaswegian terminology and accents of some characters in the film, while admirably attempted, were just not quite right. And a few other things didn’t ring quite true, for example Rose’s surprise that her employer has made a fortune selling conservatories in rainy Glasgow, when in fact it’s well known that conservatories here are very popular. But that is me being quite nitpicking as a Scottish linguist; it’s still a great wee film.

From Anstruther to the Isle of May

With James and I boarded our boat today we were advised to sit near the front if we didn’t want to get wet. The boat was a rib which was taking us across the Firth of Forth to the Isle of May. We ended up in the middle and didn’t get too wet; just a bit of salt spray. The weather was absolutely gorgeous and the sea was fairly calm, although the boat tended to crest each wave and then smack down into the troughs, which elicited some excited screaming from a few of the passengers. The skipper circumnavigated the island, pointing out sea life and geological features. Many of the seabirds have left for the winter, but we saw plenty of cormorants, shags, guillemots and gannets, and even a few young pufflings which were bobbing about on the water. The coastline is lined with sea stacks and cliffs, with caves and rocky beaches. There were quite a few seals lounging around on low rocks and thousands more will be arriving over the next few weeks; in fact our trip today was right at the end of the season because the island closes to the public from 1st October until April in order to protect the seal pups. From a cliff top during our walk we saw a white seal cub lying on the beach below us, waiting for its Mummy.
The island has an interesting history and there was a religious community based there for a long time. The skipper entertained us with some lively stories about its past. Apparently a clan chief’s daughter called Teneu became pregnant by a man from a rival clan, and her punishment was to be driven off a cliff in East Lothian in a horse-driven carriage, which seems a bit unfair in the horses in my opinion. She survived and was then declared to be a witch, so was set adrift in the sea in a coracle. She then washed up on the Isle of May and was taken in by the monks there before moving to Culross. When her baby was born she named him Kentigern but he was nicknamed Mungo by St Serf - yes the baby was good old St Mungo, the patron saint of Glasgow! And Teneu’s name was corrupted to Enoch and she became St Enoch, also of Glasgow!
We were deposited on the island slipway at about 1 p.m. and had three hours to explore the island. The Isle of May is only 1.8 km long and less that half a kilometre wide, so that was plenty of time to explore it. It is very attractive with grassy paths, lighthouses and the remains of an old priory. We cross-crossed it, walking up its small hills, chatting and enjoying the views. James had thoughtfully brought a flask of coffee which we quaffed while sitting in the sunshine.
Later we set off for the eight kilometre journey back to Anstruther in our rib. The water was an amazing colour, like molten pewter. Back on dry land we treated ourselves to fish suppers in the famous Anstruther Fish Bar.

Family reunion in Ward 15

It is a quiet Sunday afternoon at Casa Anderson. I have been doing some admin and am now blogging before I make the dinner. James is reading the paper and in the background we are listening to Brad Paisley. We are going to his concert in London in October, which I booked on the spur of the moment a while ago on the basis of one or two songs that I really like, but I actually know little of his music so I thought that I had better do my homework! Brad is not disappointing me, his music is as lovely as his voice. Ally, Cat and David are out and about, shopping and playing mini-golf, and we will have  dinner together later.
Earlier we were up at the hospital to visit Grandma and she was telling us that James’ Aunt May (to be accurate she is a first cousin once removed but has always been known as his auntie) had been in the hospital but had now gone home. She said that she had spoken to one of May’s daughters. We weren’t too sure of this because yesterday Grandma asked me to contact her mother (who died in the 1970s) because she had been “out all night”and would be worried. However I sallied forth to the nurses’ station to check out the story, and in fact Aunt May was indeed in the same ward, in the very next room to Grandma! We quickly grabbed a wheelchair and a genuinely heart-warming reunion ensued, the two ladies were holding hands and Grandma was smiling and laughing with joy. May’s daughter Margo and grand-daughter Katie were also there, and we all had a good chat. It was the most successful visiting time ever!

Unseasonably warm

It is an absolutely gorgeous autumn Saturday. There is not a cloud in the sky and it is unseasonably warm. The washing is drying on the line and the cats and I have been wandering around the house and garden companionably. James and Davie are hill-walking near Peebles so it has been very quiet and peaceful. Ally and Cat appeared at lunchtime on their way from Dunlop to a wedding in Linlithgow of one of their school friends. We ate bagels and cheese in the garden; when Cat left her plate unattended for a minute naughty Tom quickly climbed onto her seat and started slurping greedily at the butter on her bagel. We all shouted at him to stop but he merely withdrew under the seat and licked his paws in a rather self-satisfied manner.
I remarked on the warm weather as an Indian Summer *, a term which was coined by European settlers in America in the 19th century, and may have been called “Indian Summer” because it was noticed in areas inhabited by First Nation Americans. Or it could have been a good hunting season for First Nation Americans and they told the Europeans about it. However Cat told me that we can’t call it an Indian Summer, because that is how a warm spell after the first frost is described - and we haven’t had a frost yet. I found that very interesting.
When I went up to the hospital to visit Grandma she was in good spirits and we sat outside the day room in the sunshine along with lots of other patients and their families. There was a friendly atmosphere and we were all chatting. Sunshine seems to bring out the best in people.

• On researching the term, I noticed that a few people online have pointed out that the phrase has old colonial undertones which are not politically correct. I can understand this but note  that it is still in general use, also that various representatives of First Nation peoples have stated that they are not bothered by the phrase.

Mack the Knife

Today at lunchtime James and I went to see A Play A Pie and A Pint at Oran Mor. This week’s offering is “Mack the Knife”. We invited David to go with us and I was extremely glad that we did so because it was one of the best plays that I have seen at Oran Mor. It was written by Morag Fullarton and was both funny and poignant. It concerns the staging in Berlin in the late 1920s of Bertolt Brecht’s Threepenny Opera. Mack the Knife was its most famous song, sung by Kurt Gerron. Most of the play is about the disastrous rehearsals for the play and how everything went wrong in the months leading up to its opening night, with Kurt Gerron, Kurt Weill, Berthold Brecht and Lotte Lenya as the main characters. The acting and singing was first rate and the story of why they had to add in the song “Mack the Knife” to introduce Macheath was hilarious. But then the ending of the play was very sad; a few years later not all of them made it out of Nazi Germany in time.
When I was looking up all the characters later on the internet to check out the story, I discovered that the actress and singer Lotte Lenya (who escaped to America in the 1930s with her husband Kurt Weill) later became the James Bond villainess Rosa Klebb, with her trademark poison-tipped shoes!

An evening with Margaret Atwood

Last night Ally W very kindly invited me to join her book club on an outing to Eastwood Theatre to watch a live streamed documentary about Canadian author Margaret Atwood. This documentary was being simultaneously screened across the globe to mark the release of her new book “The Testaments” which is a sequel to “The Handmaid’s Tale”, recently popularised again by a television series. I have long admired her work and I read “The Handmaid’s Tale” and “The Edible Woman” among others, many many years ago. So I was keen to go along and Ally’s friends all made me feel very welcome.
We all met at Ally’s house where she made us a delicious supper before the short (and delightfully secret, through a locked gate) stroll to the theatre. The documentary did not disappoint. An extended interview with Margaret Atwood was interspersed with readings from her new book by top luvvies Ann Dowd, Sally Hawkins, and Lily James. Margaret Atwood was a fascinating speaker and I would now really like to read the book. I have to admit that when I first heard that there was to be a sequel to “The Handmaid’s Tale”, I rather cynically surmised that after the success of the television series it had seemed like a good opportunity to add to Atwood’s pension pot. However, after hearing her speak about it I felt myself drawn back in to the dystopian world of Gilead.
A rather sad postscript is that I read today that Margaret Atwood’s long time partner (since 1973) Graeme Gibson, died yesterday in London while promoting the new book with her. He was eighty-five and had been suffering from early stages of dementia so the family mentioned that although very sad they were glad that he died during a happy time before his condition deteriorated further.

A cycle on Millport

On Tuesday we went for a cycle around the island of Cumbrae. I have been making this well loved trip all of my life but it must be quite a few years since the last time. It was a perfect autumnal day; sunny but cool enough that I didn’t overheat. We invited David, as his last hurrah before starting at university next week. Since we only have two bike racks, it was a bit of a puzzle how to transport David’s bike as well as ours. However James and David successfully removed one of the wheels and managed to squeeze it into the back of the car. We parked the car at Largs and wheeled the bikes onto the ferry. After the short crossing, we set off anticlockwise around the island. The views of the Clyde estuary were absolutely gorgeous and the route was flat enough to please even me. On a Tuesday morning in September the island was very quiet. There were only a few other cyclists, a dozen or so walkers, and almost no cars. We saw cormorants standing on the red rocks at the shore and passed sandy beaches and war memorials. We stopped for coffee at the café at Fintry Bay and then continued round to the little town of Millport. After paying our respects to the renowned Crocodile Rock (yes the most famous thing in Millport is a rock painted like a crocodile which has been a feature of the town ever since I can remember) we continued onwards to the ferry slipway. My watch app told me that we had cycled for a bit over 16.5 km. This, however, was not enough for the intrepid James and David. They decided to circumnavigate the island once more. I was a little more cautious because my thighs were already feeling rather tired. So I accompanied the boys the 4 km round to Fintry Bay once more, where we had a light lunch sitting outside in the warm sunshine. Then I turned back towards the ferry slipway while they cycled onwards right round the island. So James and David ended up cycling for a total of 33 km while I was quite happy with my 25 km. It was a grand day.

Autumn

Well, it’s more than half way through September and it is definitely Autumn, my Mum’s favourite season and until this year my least favourite. To me, it has always signified the end of summer and the long descent into cold and short days. However now that I have retired I have time to appreciate its beauty more, and Autumn certainly is beautiful.
I’m back in the day room at Hairmyres Ward 15 and the doors are open onto a grassy slope which is edged with trees whose leaves are just beginning to turn rust and yellow. There are a few rowan trees whose berries are a startlingly bright red, and rose-hips are growing on bushes. The reason that I’m in the day room is that I have brought Grandma’s lovely wee friend to visit her at the hospital and I’m giving them space to have a chat.
This morning David and I watched Flora trying her very best to catch squirrels in the pear trees at the top of the garden, but as usual they were just too fast for her. She got pretty close though. Tom was also in a rip-roaring good mood and cavorted around the house before settling down on our bed for his long daytime sleep. I went for a pram walk along to Burnside with Suzy and the weather was crisp and sunny and we had a pleasant coffee and chat at Café Gelato. I think that I am becoming converted to Autumn!

Grandma’s 90th Birthday

Yesterday was Grandma’s 90th birthday. As far as we are aware she has outlived all of her ancestors, her own mother having died at eighty-nine. Obviously she would not have chosen to spend her birthday in hospital but we did our best to make it special for her. Quite a few cards had been delivered to our house or her house from her friends over the past few days, written in old person’s shaky handwriting. They are mostly too infirm to visit her any more but it was sweet that they had remembered her birthday. We bundled these up with flowers and presents and set off for the hospital in the early afternoon with Ally, David and Chanel. We were pleased to find her in good spirits; I think the nurses had been making a fuss of her and the other old ladies in the ward all knew that it was her birthday. Her main family celebration took place in the evening. The nurses got her all dressed up and we decorated tables in the day room with flowers and balloons and plates of crisps ready to start at 7 p.m.
The party was great. Marjory had ordered a beautiful cake decorated with sunflowers and Grandma loved it. There was much singing of Happy Birthday and eating of cake and drinking of Champagne and reminiscing. By 8 o’clock Grandma started to look exhausted so we had to wind things up. She was very happy as she said good night to us and said that she had enjoyed her evening.
When we got home the Last Night of the Proms was on television so we all watched it. It felt suitably uplifting and celebratory for the day. I’m so glad that Grandma had a good day.

Savour the moment

While having a coffee with James in John Lewis the other day, I noticed something written on the inside of the lid of a miniature jar of Wilkin and Sons raspberry jam. The message recommended that we should “Savour the moment” Although this undoubtedly referred to jam, I found it to be rather apt for my current state of mind. I have been feeling quite thoughtful this week about life. I’m sad that Grandma is still unwell in hospital and I hope that she will be allowed out soon because she is very keen to get home. We visit her every afternoon and combine the trip with useful errands - my “to do” list has never been so short! I like it that David will be based at home for the next year while he completes his Masters degree, he is most pleasant company. I’m enjoying the autumn as the colours of the trees slowly start to change, and I’m enjoying going for walks in the cooler sunshine. I was at Pollok Park on Tuesday with Kathryn and it looked beautiful. 

We have been doing some batch cooking and James is doing a great job in the garden, which looks very smart. I have been reading quite a lot, and tonight I’m going to book club in Burnside where we will discuss our summer reading. 

However, now that the season has turned, we have decided to add a little more structure to our week, so James and I have recently signed up to a couple of courses at Glasgow University. I am going to attempt to brush up my rusty French skills and James is going to study Geology. We find it amusing that we will be studying there at the same time as David and we have threatened him that we will go drinking with him in the student union. David however remained good-naturedly unperturbed and said that he would happily meet up with us! Chanel has just arrived for the weekend and James has just poured us pre dinner drinks so I will finish here in order to have some chat.

In my Liverpool home

On Sunday Chanel and her Dad James gave us a lovely tour of the centre of Liverpool. We visited Mathew Street and saw the famous Cavern night club, and lots of Beatles souvenir shops. There were more statues of the Fab Four, one of Cilla Black, and on another street we saw a statue of Eleanor Rigby sitting on a bench. The centre is very attractive with lots of Victorian (and older) buildings and little parks. We had lunch at a gorgeous café which had a series of small cosy rooms in it, called Rococo. We saw painted models which are called Superlambananas.
James quoted to us the chorus of the 1960s song by the Spinners, “In my Liverpool home” which has become an anthem for the people of Liverpool:
“In my Liverpool Home, In my Liverpool Home 
We speak with an accent exceedingly rare, 
Meet under a statue exceedingly bare, 
And if you want a Cathedral, we've got one to spare 
In my Liverpool Home”
Well, we heard the accent, saw the statue (it’s on the corner of the Lewis’s building and it IS exceedingly bare!) and visited both cathedrals. However there is lots more to see and I would love to come back to Liverpool soon.

From Southport to Liverpool

Saturday dawned bright and sunny in Southport but I wasn’t feeling very bright because a nightmare had disturbed my sleep. An unpleasant nightmare about something that I thought was long behind me, and what’s more I know exactly what triggered it. It annoys me how easily I can still be thrown off balance. A refreshing shower perked me up and soon James and I strolled into the centre of Southport to meet Ally, Cat, David and Chanel for breakfast. They had all decided to join us for the air show which I found very heartwarming, and their lively and happy company cheered me and reminded me of what is important in life.
After breakfast we walked back through the park and hopped onto the delightful miniature railway. We then set up camp with our deckchairs on the promenade, ready for the flying display. The air show was good fun and much warmer than Friday evening, although the sea breeze necessitated the occasional brisk walk to limber up after sitting for a while. James enjoyed using his new, massive camera lens. There were plenty of food vans for lunch, and as well as watching the planes, I amused myself by observing various naughty children misbehaving down on the beach. Sand was thrown in siblings’ eyes, carefully constructed sand structures were sabotaged, small children ran away and had to be retrieved by their frazzled parents. To be fair, the parents did a valiant job of keeping them under control and all in all the children had fun and it was a good family day out.
Later we made our way to the centre of Liverpool where we had a tasty dinner at a restaurant called Panam. It was at the Royal Albert Docks, which are really smart with lots of pubs, restaurants, statues, views over the water towards the Wirral and several museums. Chanel gave us a brief night time tour after dinner and I was very impressed. I have only been in Liverpool once before, in about 1986 (?) when our dear friend Margaret was living there. I was only there for one evening because I was in Manchester for a business meeting so took the opportunity to drive across for a brief visit. So I have never been to the centre of the city, and I’m looking forward to seeing more of it tomorrow, with the expert guidance of Chanel.