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 Davie 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. Davie 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 the Modern Garden exhibition nearly 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 and the attractive location. 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 youth 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 London's 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 Davie 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 Davie kindly stepped in to accompany me at the last minute. The interesting thing was that Davie 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 Ben Elton 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.