Still learning

My journal is coming along nicely and building into quite a collection now, but after a weekend away, I’d got a little behind with my pages.

A couple of hours were needed to sit and sort through the ephemera collected on the way and to print out a few labels and journal cards.

Thankfully, that gave me the prompt for what I learned yesterday!

And today?  Well, today I learned a new word, thanks to the crossword and my hero, who tells me that his own hero, the composer Joachim Raff, includes “Dans la Nacelle” in his repertoire of piano music.   Now, before you think that Raff was finding poetry and music in the aerodynamics of aircraft engine housings, be reassured that the French word nacelle can also refer to a small boat, but I find that use is now described as obsolete.

I shall just have to engineer a conversation about aerodynamics to drop it into then, won’t I?

Today I learned

all sorts of things.  Keeping my notebook close to hand and jotting down this and that throughout the day is a great exercise and though I’ve usually got a small book to hand with a pencil tucked inside, Shimelle’s class prompts me to pay a little more attention and take a few more notes.

For example, a conversation with a WI friend this morning gave me cause to investigate the Order of St Lazarus and St John and the Queenhithe Ward Club.  I was writing a report for our monthly newsletter about the lovely people we’ve entertained to lunch during the past month and of course, instantly learned a great deal from five minutes googling.

Would I feature this on my daily page?  Possibly.

But a little later on, I was in the kitchen listening to Radio 3 and heard Sarah Walker play Rameau’s La Poule.  She introduced it by stating it was her favourite piece of music featuring chickens.

Huh?

My hero and I mulled over this and considered alternatives, if indeed there were any?  The first one he came up with was the Funky Chicken or the Birdie Song and reacting quickly before this could be taken any further (please, use your imagination!) I was humming the tune I associated with chickens.

“You know, da da da-da da, da da da-da da, doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo..” (as so on).

Well, I was up to my elbows in flour and sugar at the time, baking a birthday cake for a colleague to take to my meeting yesterday afternoon.

My hero sighed and realised I wasn’t going to leave it there.  He got out his iphone and looked for “chicken” on Spotify.  There appeared a long list of weird and totally offbeat answers, none of which bore any resemblance to the music I was thinking of.

“It’s by Debussy or Mussorgsky,” I said.  “Might be Pictures at an Exhibition.  you know…da da da-da da, da da da-da da, doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo..”

One click and it was playing.  Baba Yaga’s Hut on Chicken Legs.

So, my page for today’s LSNED class features the story presented in the same format as I’m working in for this book.  The page is an envelope made from a magazine page (I think this was a photo of a staircase in a grand house), the brief journalling is printed onto a shipping label (happily acccepted by my HP printer if I whisper “epson” very quietly in its ear as I press the “print” button) and the full story on a card inside the envelope, together with any other ephemera from the day.  The picture is from a favourite film, Howls Moving Castle, which was loosely based on the Baba Yaga story.

What on earth will I learn today?!

Listen

I don’t like having things in my ears.  I’m not altogether sure I like things on my ears and were it not for the fact that a thirteen hour plane journey is coming up, I’d be quite happy to forget altogether about such things.

Much as I love music, I don’t need it 24/7 and can happily enjoy some peace and quiet from time to time.  My entertainment on public transport comes from people watching rather than creating my own personal sound bubble and so my ipod and associated paraphernalia usually lurks at the bottom of my bag amongst the stray polo mints and old pencils.

Shortly after I got my ipod, I decided I couldn’t bear the earbuds any more and splashed out on some B&O earphones (or “high tech jewellery” ?) They sit comfortably on my ear and don’t need to be stuffed in to stay in place.  However, shortly after I bought them, the rounded rubber tip was lost from one of the curved pieces and try as I might to get it replaced, it wasn’t possible.  It doesn’t affect the sound at all, but from time to time I need to push the whole thing together again.  A minor irritation but a constant reminder that however much one pays for such things, the smallest component can fail.

Still, I was fairly happy with them until I read of a new alternative.

I saw a review of the new Bose IE2 earphones in one of the papers, so hot footed it into a local hifi shop to see what’s what.  With a promise of a full refund if they didn’t suit, I didn’t linger and am pleased to report that I’m happy with my purchase.  The earpiece doesn’t fit right inside the ear, but sits just on it, supported by the soft gel-like piece shaped to fit the curve outside.  The sound is good, though the young man in the shop offered to adjust my ipod sound settings to maximise the potential of the earphones when I’m next in town. 

Will I still feel as happy with them after prolonged use next weekend? 

Watch this space.

In the meantime, when it all gets too much, I can snuggle my alternative speaker to my ear instead.

The Social Whirl

I love it when my diary is filled with days full of fun, shared with friends and family.  This weekend was one such time.

A year ago, Mary tipped us the wink that our discovery  ;-) was to perform in London and we might keep an eye out for concert tickets.  Keep an eye out we did, so carefully that we were the first to book for Friday night’s concert at The Barbican.

So, best seats in the house for the most memorable evening, thanks to “The Dude” and his band.  We heard Mahler’s 9th, which isn’t high on our list of Mahler favourites – or should I say, wasn’t.  The length of the symphony meant that it was the sole piece on the programme and to begin with I wondered if we’d feel a little short-changed.  The tickets were expensive and the effort of getting to the Barbican is considerable. We needn’t have worried, though, because after listening to an hour and a half of the most compelling and powerful, roller-coaster of a journey through every emotion, mood and spirit, neither of us wanted to overwrite that magical final movement.  Indeed, the man himself stretched it out as long as he felt able; the audience and the orchestra left hanging on his upheld baton for a good minute and a half’s silence after the final note had drifted away…before gradually, ever so slowly, the lowering of the arm and the gentle sigh of relief was broken by first a single clap and soon the sound of rapturous applause.

What a night!

Coincidentally, two dear friends decided to hold their joint birthday party on Saturday lunchtime, in the very smart surroundings of The Ivy.  We had a lovely time in delightful company and who couldn’t enjoy a birthday lunch which features Rhubarb Sponge and Custard for pudding?

Not only that, but we were given going home presents too!

We couldn’t leave it there, so a bunch of us went to Les Mis (some for the first time, some for the fourth or fifth!)

Of course, we still didn’t really want to go home…and another birthday was dawning for one of us, so we adjourned to the appropriately named Cafe des Amis where we gently put the day to rest over a plate or two and a bottle or three.

What a grand weekend.

Under a cloudless blue sky

It’s chilly but invigorating.  Just the right weather to be popping in and out of shops.  Perfect.

The thing is, many of them are such a visual feast, that even if no purchases are made, it’s still fun.  Even more so, now the staff in Anthropologie don’t get agitated at the sight of a camera any more.

We love the way the stores here make an effort to spruce up the outside too.

With a folklore theme going on inside, I’m enjoying capturing some images ready for my Christmas journal which I’ll begin in a few days time.

Enjoying a comforting hot drink in Starbucks (will it be salt caramel chocolate or peppermint mocha this time?…yum!) we make one of those chance enounters we love.  The chap standing behind me waiting for our drinks recognises my accent and comes over to Mark to begin a conversation.  We discover he’s a musician on his way to play the matinee of the Nutcracker with the ballet.  When we tell him we’re going to the Symphony this evening, he laughs and says that he also plays with the BSO – he’s a percussionist.  Having discussed the programme, we look forward to seeing him on stage, feeling a connection with the orchestra in the same way we do at Symphony Hall back home.

 

It was a fine concert and we enjoyed it greatly.  Disappointing though, how the audience began to leave almost as soon as the last note had been played.  Andris would have held that magical silent moment so much longer…