Friday evening

Whenever we head out to Heathrow airport on a Friday, checking in at Terminal 5 for a lunchtime flight, there is fun in store.  The routine of leaving a chilly London behind at that time of the day usually follows through with an arrival somewhere late afternoon – and that somewhere is often Californ-I-A.  But it doesn’t do to stick with “always” and “usually” and it’s good to be able to say “but this time…” once in a while.

Today we caught the 1245 flight from Terminal 5 and in the late afternoon, we landed in Munich.  Now, there’s different!  We’re here to enjoy the company of friends, to go to the Opera and of course, to have fun in a city where we feel very comfortable.

We got off to a very good start by learning that we’d been upgraded to a rather lovely suite at the hotel.  Since we’d already pushed the boat out a little on this occasion, an upgrade means “very plush indeed” and our travelling companions made themselves at home immediately as you can see.

We set out in search of somewhere gemütlich for supper, dodging the rain showers and managing to stay dry as far as zum Spockmeier, where we snagged one of the last tables and immediately ordered two hefes. 

Dinner was delicious and we left feeling utterly stuffed a couple of hours later.

It’s good to be here!

As we walked back to the hotel we caught sight of an elegant “couple” in a shopwindow.  Sadly, it bore no resemblance to yours truly and her hero, for whom those lederhose and finely cut dirndl would have been just that bit on the snug side!

But we can dream.

Wrapped

Knole is in flux.  As we stepped into the courtyard, we spotted this wrapped treasure and were handed a leaflet explaining that work was underway to conserve and repair not only the building but also the precious things which are inside it.  In the Great Hall there were some fascinating little boxes with the label “please touch” alongside.  Half of the fabric was covered, the other half open to fingertips big and small and the effects were clear to see.  The open half was ragged and threadbare, the covered part as new.  Fascinating.

(Sadly, no photos inside the house, of course, but there are several online)

Moving on up the stairs, we saw more evidence of restoration and we realised that this was no minor update but a huge undertaking involving the greater part of the house.  Not so long ago, the house might have been closed during such major works but thankfully the National Trust is using it as an opportunity to educate us all on what’s involved and keep everyone up to date with the progress.  There’s even a blog written by the conservators.

For me, this was the icing on the cake.  Of course, I’d love to see the pristine furnishings, well preserved paintings and immaculate carpet.  But actually, I think it’s even more interesting to see the skeletons and the painstaking work that is going into safeguarding these treasures for the future. 

In some rooms, there were large, wrapped shapes with labels on them.

“Under here is a chair of state, a simple rectangular frame, narrow arms, a fitted square seat cushion and a large, high loose cushion on top, covered in purple silk velvet with applique leather decorations.  There are splits, patches and the fragile fringe is missing in places, the velvet pile is largely gone and the colour faded to blue grey”

What fun to imagine the contents of the package, to picture the chair in my head and envisage that purple velvet faded to blue grey!

Another one:

“Under here is a beechwood settee dating from the early seventeenth century.  It is upholstered in the original crimson velvet, fringed and studded with domed gilt nails.  The cushion is embroidered in silver and the back divided into panels with crimson and gold thread fringe”

The Spangled Bed hangings were there to see, with a small recreation of the fabric worked by one of the textile volunteers alongside.  Beautiful.

I really appreciated this approach to the restoration and have added the blog to my reader – how interesting to follow this long process and of course, to look forward to another visit to see the results of the work. 

Blessings

I don’t do it often, but once in a while, I really do count them.  After a lovely weekend away, we drove home in that  comfortable manner of not really talking or having a proper conversation, but sharing the occasional thought, recollection or observation.  The radio was on but neither of us were really listening, because we were each lost in our own thoughts – mine, admittedly, fuelled by two large glasses of Sauvignon Blanc at lunchtime!

Having spent a couple of days last week working with the ladies in Exeter where one of the topics of discussion was reflective practice, this was still quite high in my subconscious.  I always explain this concept as the “mulling over” of events; in my case it’s often in the car on the way home and the perfect time for a little blessings count.

We’d spent a happy weekend with friends in Kent, a part of the country I knew next to nothing about.  The sun had shone, the days had been cool but clear and the sky was that shade of blue that makes everything look its best.  From the minute we arrived, we relaxed and settled into an easy routine of gentle activity, interesting conversation, shared stories and comfortable company.  We visited Knole and Chartwell, saw a little of the beautiful countryside and admired the small towns and villages that characterise the landscape of West Kent.

We saw great swathes of forest that had been devastated in the great storm of 1987, now growing again and looking lovely in the autumn sunshine.  We admired the beautiful house and gardens at Chartwell and learned a little about the man who lived there (and who sat in that chair to paint his garden).  Perhaps we all owe him one or two of our blessings?

The best thing of all was that the pair of us didn’t plan a thing.  All we did was “go with the flow”  (spoken in a good Hull accent…goe with the floe!)  from beginning to end.

And drink tea.

And eat delicious meals, cooked for us without our having to lift so much as a finger.

And share Kindle recommendations.

And look at photos.

And play Balderdash!

Hopefully we left before we’d outstayed our welcome, straight into the capable hands of another couple of friends who suggested we meet for lunch here.  No wonder we felt blessed – we didn’t even have to make a decision about that, either!

Words from a wise man

“There’s no point in talking to your friends (to make peace), you should be talking to your enemies”

We heard Kofi Annan speak at the Cheltenham Festival last night.  He came across as a man of noble spirit, immense patience and the ultimate diplomat which meant he was extremely adept at ducking any question about Tony Blair.

It’s Bond, Basildon Bond

I am in Exeter, working with a group of delightful women who are training to be WI Craft Judges.  One of their tasks is to judge a "Village Show", including the confirmation of all the arrangements.  Of course, they can't just turn up at the show but have to invited...and who invites them but the legendary President of Lower Puddle WI, Mrs Ophelia B Joyful.  Generations of WI judges have corresponded with Mrs O B Joyful, the earlier ones responding Dear Madam and the later ones Dear Ophelia.  How times change, eh?

Anyway, here we are, the night before the show and no letters have been sent. Not only that but there's no one else here to write them but me, minus a computer.  But I have a pen and I can write!  I decided that Mrs O B Joyful wouldn't send a letter written on any old paper, so on my way back to the hotel I stopped off in WHSmith to buy some notepaper and envelopes.

Hah!  Could I find it?  What do you think?

I stopped a member of staff and asked for writing paper and envelopes - explaining that I wanted the kind you write a letter on, not take notes.

"Oh, do you want the lined stuff?  It's over there".  She pointed to the "student" section.

"No," I replied, "I want letter paper,  not the kind you take notes on"

"Yes, it's over there, it's in books you can tear a sheet out"

Slowly, it dawned on me that this young woman didn't know what Basildon Bond was.  That the concept of buying a pad of special paper and matching envelopes was totally alien to her.  I thanked her and found an older colleague to ask, who pointed in the opposite direction.  There on the end of a display was the full range of writing pads and envelopes.  I made my selection and went to pay.

The youngster had the last laugh though.  I discarded the lined guide page and began to write the first letter.  I continued onto a second page and forged Ophelia Joyful's signature before carefully tearing the two sheets from the pad.  But it wouldn't tear off neatly.  Muttering something about Basildon Bond not being what it used to be, I looked more closely.

I had written the first page on the blotting paper.

Hands up anyone who needs an explanation of what that was used for?