Random Jottings

Waterstones revisited

Those of you who have read my blog in May regarding Tom Jones' Delilah being played at decibel level in the Waterstones at Leadenhall Market, and who remember I said I was going to track down the CEO of the company and write to him, will be pleased to hear that I have done so and have received a reply.

Waterstones is now owned by HMV and the Chief Executive is Alan Giles.  I received a response from him in which he stated that it was Waterstone's policy to play appropriate background music in their stores and that customer research in this area had shown that it was approved and welcomed by the vast majority of their customers (it seems then that I must be in the minority).  He went on to stress that the level of music should always be 'background and the choice of music appropriate to the customer base'.  Tom Jones belting out full blast in a store mostly patronised by stressed out City workers was not what I would call appropriate. Mr Giles then went on to say that he understood the playing of music in store is sensitive and controversial and understood my viewpoint.

Apparently, since my letter 'steps have been taken to retrain the entire Leadenhall Market team of booksellers on the appropriate music and that a maximum volume level has been agreed by the store'.  On top of that a total apology.  Since I expressed my displeasure in the store at the end of May the music has totally vanished, at least during the lunch time.  It may be put back on at other times of the day, I do not know.  It is now a pleasure to visit this store with all the other readers quietly choosing and reading their books and it surely cannot be coincidence that with this silence, I have not been bothered by one person holding a loud, or indeed any, conversation on their mobile phone.

I feel very pleased with this result and am going to reply to Mr Giles.  I have various other comments I would like to make to him about his stores and contents thereof and now I have started I may as well continue...

Empowerment guru

OK I give up - what is an Empowerment Guru?  The reason I ask is that we have such an one coming to give us a chat at work tomorrow morning.  Our group has a meeting twice a year and while I, personally, am not too keen on them, I have to admit that they do help foster a spirit of friendliness and good will.  Until we started having them they were unheard of in the rest of the office, but now I gather other departments are beginning to hold them also, so perhaps there is merit in them after all.  I am just a cynical old bag and find 'empowerment' and 'workshops' and similar words make me want to run screaming into the night.

Well, I shall find out tomorrow morning.  I am getting in early (trains permitting of course) to get everything set up.  My boss had this wonderful idea of having some music played during the presentation so I had to download relevant tracks from a CD, and then attach them to the slides.  Very fiddly and time consuming but done, so now I will add this to my list of Things I Have Learned To Do.

Trains were late this morning as a 'failed' (again management speak - this time meaning 'broken down') inter-city was blocking the line.  All the trains waiting to go were held outside the station until this particular train was moved and when we were wondering just what was happening an announcement was broadcast round the station 'We are sorry that you are being delayed but the first class passengers will not disembark from the train until they have finished their breakfast'  (First class was emphasised here, we were obviously meant to think stuck up toffs).  While I was annoyed by being delayed, I could not help feel some sympathy with these instransigents. They pay an extortionate amount for their season ticket and probably thought Sod it I am not moving until I have had my toast and marmalade.

So I arrived at work, late and shattered - again.

I am sure everyone who is reading my blog this week is simply enchanted by the adventurous life I lead.  I will report on the EG tomorrow

Ordinary Day

Today my blog entry runs along similar lines to those of my diary as a child 'Got up, went to school (now work), came home, had tea, went to bed'.  Nobody would read that and feel they had a budding genius on their hands.

That is the sort of day I have had today.  Horrendous Monday morning commute as when I arrived at Colchester station was greeted with a milling throng (always a bad sign) and the announcement that 'there will be severe days this morning due to a major signalling failure at Chelmsford' (Mem: why is it always a major problem, it is never a minor one.  I always think this when I see a paperback reissued on the back of a BBC dramatisation 'Now a major new drama' again never minor)

But I digress - arrived at work tired and fed up and clutching a cappaccino with an extra shot to keep me awake and spent the entire day just producing work of the most mundane, but necessary variety.  Have stayed late tonight to finish off some work for one of our more prestigious clients and am now gearing up for the train journey home where no doubt I will fall asleep with mouth open and dribble all the way to Colchester.

When I get home, I shall have my tea and then go to bed.

Such excitement.....

Simon Serrailer - Susan Hill (2)

I have now read Susan Hill's three books featuring Simon Serrailer and unfortunately read the second before the first which was a stupid  accident, but in no way has this diminished my enjoyment.  Have just finished the Various Haunts of Men and even though I knew the identity of the murderer having had it mentioned, albeit briefly, in the Pure in Heart, the first book is so wonderfully written and with so many twists and turns and blind alleys, that I still wondered if I my memory was correct!

These three books are simply wonderful and gripping and once started I could not put them down and had to read straight through.  The hero, if that is how he can be designated, DCI Simon Serrailer is one of these fascinating flawed tortured characters with an inbuilt inner life that allows nobody in.

I think there is a clue to his personality early on in the book when he tells us that in his other life as an artist, he only works in pencil, pen and charcoal.  He never uses colour which suggests to me that here is somebody who likes fine detail and to be in control, paint and colour would be messy. He is also elegant, fastidious and handsome, just like my all time favourite detective, Roderick Alleyn, created by Ngaio Marsh.  Wonder if Susan Hill has read any of her books?

Simon Serrailer - Susan Hill (1)

Well, bang goes my weekend.  I awoke at 6 am this morning and foolishly opened The Risk of Darkness by Susan Hill.  It is now 7 am, have had breakfast and drunk two cups of tea and am just about to have a third.  Already totally absorbed.

Fascinating array of characters being laid before us - first one that grabs attention is Kyra a bouncy energetic child driving her mother mad with her energy and enthusiasm who has a crush on her next door neighbour who she pops round to see one night. He is not there.  His car is gone.  Another child has been snatched.  Are these two threads linked? Or are we being sent in the wrong direction? I am not going to bother putting this book on my blog list Currently Reading as I know full well that it will only have to be removed to Recently Read.

I have said bang goes my weekend - more likely to be bang goes Saturday as I am certain this will be read by tonight.  This book may distract me from the WImbledon Women's Final this afternoon, but let us face it, Hennes-Hardennes and Mauresmo are not exactly sparkling personalities are they?  Just pleased it is not Sharapova, who has turned pretty rapidly from the delightful fresh faced teenager who won the tournament a few years ago, to a petulant arrogant over paid young lady.

And the NOISE when she plays - one journalist this week compared her to The Shrieking Shack.  Perfect description

OK kettle boiled, tea bag brewing, back to bed

LATER - it is now 11.15 am Finished it.  Brilliant. More later when I have recovered

Vivia Italia!

Without meaning to I appear to be in the middle of an Italian splurge. 

Recently I picked up a copy of the Shape of Water by Andrea Camilleri - just caught my eye in Waterstones - which features an Inspector Montalbano and is set in Sicily.  Inspector Montalbano is a lover of fine wine and food and there are copious descriptions of the food left for him by his housekeeper who appears to be a cook of supreme talent; he has a long distance relationship with a lady called Livia who he seems to be avoiding marrying and I am not totally sure if he is in any way likeable or even interesting.  Somehow I found myself reading a second, The Voice of the Violin, which was only marginally better than the first and yet, I now find that I want to continue reading them as Inspector Montalbano's private life is a thread running through these books and I want to know what happens.  Googling Andrea Camilleri reveals that the reviews he seems to garner can best be described as 'mixed' and yet he is one of Italy's best selling authors.  An Italian Jeffrey Archer perhaps?

And then there is Donna Leon.  I keep stumbling across articles about her in various magazines and thought I would give her books a whirl.  After all they are set in Venice, one of my most favourite places on earth, so that is a good start.  The first one I picked off the shelf was Death at La Fenice.  A murder story set at the opera in Venice - irresistible. The victim is an arrogant German conductor with a penchant for fast cars and young wives and if this character is not based on the late Herbert von Karajan then I shall eat my baton.Her hero Commissario Guido Brunetti is a much more rounded figure than Inspector Montelbano.  This is probably due to the writing which is streets ahead of that of Camilleri, plus the fact that whereas Inspector Montalbano lives in a fictional town in Sicily, Commissario Brunetti lives in a city so well known that when we are told Guido is walking across the Rialto Bridge or stopping to admire the view of Santa Maria D'Assolutto, we know exactly where he is.  Venice also has the added bonus that at night it is just so damn sinister!

And to round off my Italian sojourn, I have sitting on my coffee table, Francesco's Italy by Count Francesco da Mosto, a book to accompany the BBC series which just finished last Sunday. Last year he presented Francesco's Venice and I became totally besotted with this charismatic delightful man.  Not in any sense classically good looking but full of warmth, wit and obvious love for his native city and the rest of his country.  I personally would pay the BBC good money to extend his travels so that we could have Francesco's France, Francesco's Greece, Francesco's...but I think you get the drift.

Italy are now in the finals of the World Cup of course so I think I know who I will be supporting on Sunday. 

Now where is my bottle of Chianti...? 

Addio amici

Malta GC

I have just booked a week's holiday in Malta and am feeling very excited.  I have not been back since I lived there as a little girl and already I am starting to get a bit emotional just thinking about it.  I attended a convent school in Mdina (the Silent City), St Dorothy's Convent and have vivid memories of my days there.  There is a whole blog entry somewhere waiting to be written about my convent school experiences but I will leave them until I am feeling stronger and, preferably, when I have a vodka and orange to hand....

Am now going to read up about the history of this enchanting island as though I intend to spend a lot of my time here just lying on the beach, I really cannot wait to reacquaint myself with Malta all over again.

Heatwave

In tabloid speak 'phew, what a scorcher.  Temperatures in London pretty unbearable with the heat on the Tube hitting 40C.  Thank goodness that I only have the overhead trains to cope with and they were bad enough today.  Came home on the inter-city tonight and it was packed with exhausted, bad tempered commuters.  One carriage was half empty and when I headed for it, I understood why - the heating was on FULL BLAST.  Waves of heat just hit you as you went through and the few people who decided sitting down in this was better than standing did not last long - they were going down like flies.  So I ended up sitting on the floor outside the toilet with the window open.  For this I pay a small fortune each year to the rail company...

Oh and the papers have been picking over the bones of our World Cup exit ad nauseam today and Murray has just lost at Wimbledon.

So back to normal then

Birthday

Well, in a way it is a relief that England are knocked out of the World Cup, it was going to happen and deep down we all knew it, but we had this insane hope that maybe, just maybe...

My  mother who celebrated her 94th birthday this weekend and is looking pretty good came over to watch the footie with me and we duly screamed, cursed and shouted and then settled down into baffled resignation.  As soon as we got to the penalty shoot out and from bitter experience knew what was going to happen, we switched channels to watch Wimbledon and I went and put on the kettle and made a cup of tea.  We then settled down to watch Andy Murray play a simply stunning match against Andy Roddick and beat him in straight sets.  Not used to watch Brits win easily and in style.  BUT of course, Andy Murray is not a Brit and made it very clear he was a Scot and supporting anybody but England in the World Cup.  This rather childish attitude brought him a lot of flak and irritation and he duly apologised but the damage was done.  Somebody was spotted at Wimbledon this week sporting a t-shirt showing the slogan 'Anybody but Andy'.  However, a superb game of tennis and a mature and thoughtful interview afterwards, plus staying on the centre court signing autographs for some considerable time, may have swung the pendulum back in his favour.

An old family friend of my mother came over on Sunday to lunch and we had cold chicken, salad and strawberries and cream followed by coffee and a birthday cake.  All of this came courtesy of Marks & Spencer - no way was I cooking in this heat.

World Cup 0 - Wimbledon 1

A good weekend really

Rooney and Murray

ROONEY breaks metarsal

the nation mourns

the nation waits

yes he is getting better

no he is not says Alec Ferguson

o yes he is says everyone else

Wayne goes to Germany

(that's alright then we will win now)

plays a bit here a bit there

the team play dreadfully

If only Wayne was on the field cry the fans

up we come against Portugal

tabloid front pages on Saturday

Wayne your country needs Roo

I am going to get my revenge says Wayne and score lots of goals

Wayne kicks a Portugese player in the nuts (whoops sorry groin)

Wayne gets sent off

Wayne reduces the team to 10 men

Wayne loses us the world cup

as the great Oscar Wilde once said 'you would have to have a heart of stone not to laugh'....

Now the nations hopes and dreams are switched to Andy Murray a Scot who said he hoped Paraguay would beat us when the World Cup started

You couldn't make it up...