Random Jottings

PRIZE DRAW PRIZE DRAW PRIZE DRAW

Well, I am sure you all know by know that I am away in Istanbul for a few days and also having my kitchen gutted.  It has been a horrid week, with all the arrangements to make and also pack and then  empty the kitchen cupboards which I have written about and which was exhausting.  So I shall be glad  to get away, though the allure of foreign travel, well the airport bit anyway, is not as strong as it used to be.

So a break for a few days and to keep you going here is the latest RANDOM JOTTINGS PRIZE DRAW.  I am offering a copy of The Spy Game by Georgina Harding which I read and reviewed a few weeks ago here.  It is a simply terrific book and I really would like to spread the word.

So while I am away please read this post, leave your name in the comments box and I will make the draw when I return from my trip, no doubt laden down with Turkish Delilght and all sorts of other souvenirs. 

I will try very hard not to buy a mug but I fear that I will not be able to resist....

Au Reservoir

The Morland Dynasty by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

I have just finished reading the latest in the above series by the excellent Cynthia Harrod-Eagles and, as always, when I finish one of these I am staggered at the amount of historical research that must have gone into the writing of each one.  I would love to have a look at Cynthia's library, I think it must be simply awesome.

The Foreign Field is No 31 in the series and I tell you if you wish to read  these, you need to start with No 1, The Founding, set way back in the 11/12th century and read your way through the lot. It will be worth it I can assure you but if you read one a month, it is still going to take you a couple of years, so you need to get going.  Of course, when I first discovered these about ten years ago, I did my usual binge read. My local library had them all in stock and I used to go in and get out six at a time and sit down and read them through one after the other.  This may sound all too much to bear but it worked very well as I was able to continue with the story of the Morland family generation after generation and as the family tree can get a bit complicated, I can recommend this method of tackling these wonderful books.

The current book is set in 1917 and tells the story of the various Morlands who are involved in the fighting, on the front, nursing at home and abroad, one is in the diplomatic service and is assigned to the Tsar of Russia becoming intimate with the Imperial Family.  The Russian Revolution has taken place and, at the end of the book, Lenin had deposed Karensky who had some sympathy for Nicholas and Alexandra and the children, but of course we all know what happened to them.  But will it happen to the Morland son attached to them as well? 

By the end of the story there are several narrative strands cleverly left to keep us on the edge of our seats and eager for No 32.  I have found when I start each new one that I have to study the family tree and reacquaint myself with all the ins and outs and, as there is a year between each episode, the reader needs to glance back at the previous book to see what has happened and to get yourself back into the mood for the next one.  There is a strand back in No 30 which I think is going to rebound back in a later book, perhaps after the end of World War I but I could be wrong. We shall see.

The Morland Dynasty is a huge undertaking and I am full of admiration for Cynthia Harrod-Eagles to write so well, give us so many engaging and fascinating characters, some good some bad, all set against the background of the Civil War, the French Revolution, the American Civil War (yes there are American Morlands as well), through the Tudors, the Stuarts, The Peninsular Wars, the War of the Roses, yes sorry these are not in order but the breadth and depth of this enterprise is amazing.

If you have not yet read any of these then I really recommend that you get hold of No 1, take a deep breath and dive in.  I have every intention of re-reading them all in order soon (well, hopefully...)

And if this is not enough, Cynthia HE also writes darn good crime novels as well. The Bill Slider mysteries.  I simply don't know where she finds the time.

The Miss Silver books of Patricia Wentworth

A quick glance down the left hand column of Random will illustrate most clearly that I have been reading the Miss Silver books of Patricia Wentworth.  I discovered these last year at a book sale when I found a couple of the new editions lurking in a corner and thought I would give them a go as I love detective novels, particularly those set in the 1930s and 1940s.  I also noted that there were 34 books featuring this character so that if I liked them I would be ok for a while.

Well I did like them and have now read the lot, but I see that the author has written another 34 books, outside of the Miss Silver canon so they will be worth keeping an eye our for as well.  The first book featuring this ex-governess turned private detective was published in 1928, The Grey Mask and the final story, The Girl in the Cellar in 1961, the year of Patricia Wentworth's death.  It is a shame that the last in the series was so poor and very loosely plotted and even when I read the last page I had no idea of what or why or how.   However, the author was 83 when she died and this should be borne in mind by me when judging and I well remember Agatha Christie's later books being incredibly rambling and disjointed.  Old age catches up with us all (as I am now beginning to discover), but am grateful that PD James is still writing such elegant prose in her Dalgleish books in her 80's. Long may she continue.

Anyway, back to Miss Silver who really is a simply delightful character.  She is timeless and changeless. She has to be as the books are written over a 33 year period and as she is obviously in her 60s when the books start she must be close to 90 near the end.  I remember Agatha Christie and Ngaio Marsh being interviewed about their two detectives, Poirot and Alleyn and Dame A working out that Hercule P with his little grey cells must have been over 100 by the time she finished with him with Alleyn not far behind. Still suspension of disbelief is all.

There is always a description of Miss Silver in each book and it is always the same which is most reassuring to us, the reader, and to whomever consults her:

"With her neat curled fringe, her dated dress - olive green cashmere - the bog oak brooch in the shape of a rose with a pearl at its heart, the black thread stockings and the glace shoes, too small for the modern foot, she might have stepped out of any old fashioned photograph album"

She also manages to express displeasure or disapproval in the most subtle way:

"Mrs Smith said with energy 'I wouldn't want it to go about that I'd been seeing a detective'.  There seemed suddenly to be a considerable distance between herself and Miss Silver.  Without word or movement, this small governessy looking person seemed to have receded.....the astonishing thing is that Mrs Smith discovered that she didn't want her to go. Before she knew what she was going to do she found that she way saying 'Oh well of course, I know that anything I tell you would be in confidence and perfectly safe"

Miss Silver is hugely admired by Detective Inspector Frank Abbot who calls her his revered preceptress, also by Randall March, the Chief Constable of Ledbury, who she taught as a young boy and while Chief Inspector Lamb is not so keen, even he admits:

"The fact is people don't like talking to the police.  This is where Miss Silver comes in. The only thing that stops people talking is being afraid.  Well, no one's afraid of Miss Silver....sits there with her knitting and makes herself pleasant and mind you it isn't put on either... she likes people and takes an interest in them and they fairly tumble over themselves to tell her things"

These are hugely enjoyable detective stories.  They do fall into a pattern and the drawback of reading them all one after the other is that this is noticeable.  The young lovers are always totally innocent. If a couple fall in love you can knock them off the list of suspects straight away (mark you the same can be said of Ngaio Marsh - a handsome young man and a pretty young woman attracted to each other are incapable of murder it seems; Agatha Christie does not always fall into this trap. I can think of some of her titles where the romantic involvement does not mean they are innocent); there is always a second murder and, again, it is usually the death of somebody who has witnessed or who knows something about the first killing and tries a spot of blackmail instead of telling the police.  Inevitably, they end up as a corpse.  This ploy is used in nearly every single one of Patricia Wentworth's books and is the one aspect of them that I can criticise as it became pretty predictable after a while.  but, as I said this is probably because I did my usual binge read, if I had spaced them out a bit I would not have noticed it so much.

You cannot read these books without thinking of Miss Marple with whom of course Miss Silver has great similarity.  Both unmarried, elderly ladies, both very sharp and wise, both have a way with maids and what is designated as 'the lower classes' in the books featuring these two Misses, both with nieces and nephews and both happy to sit in a corner and knit, but between each plain and purl stitch they are watching and weighing evidence.  It is a pity that Miss Marple has rather cornered the market in the TV and film stakes; Miss Silver seems to be largely unheard of nowadays, I certainly knew nothing of her until my discovery at a book sale last year, and it is highly unlikely that any TV studio would make a series as the similarity to Miss Marple is too marked.

A shame as Miss Silver got there first.  The Grey Mask was published in 1928 and Miss Marple made her first appearance in The Murder at the Vicarage in 1930.  I wonder if Dame Agatha was influenced by a reading of a Patricia Wentworth story?  Makes you wonder.

 

Not the best weekend ever...

I hope nobody expects anything in the way of critical analysis this week or a scholarly book review (not that you have ever got these anyway), it is more likely to be demented ramblings as I am beginning to doubt my sanity.  Whatever gave me the bright idea to go on holiday while the kitchen was started?  Not only do I have to get things organised re this visit to Istanbul, deciding what to take, what to wear, get money changed, get train tickets to airport, dig out my passport, get insurance blah blah blah, but I have to get the kitchen cupboards emptied preparatory to the Great Rip Out of same. This at the end of the week when I have organised the paint, the lighting and the flooring.

After yesterday's brush with bouncing rubber tyres I slept very badly indeed, kept waking up in a muck sweat and it was not until about 3am that I finally went to sleep and then woke up at 9 am feeling like the Wrath of God.  Decided to do nothing, but nothing until I went for my now daily walk (sun shining so lovely), bought Sunday paper and then came back and had my breakfast.  Then I girded up my loins, metaphorically speaking, and ventured into the unknown territory that was under the sink and on the top shelves of my kitchen.  Quite unnerving I can tell you.  I had no idea I was so messy and so sluttish. Here is a summing up of what I found:

• Two cans of Mr Muscle oven cleaner. Why? I never clean the oven so why two let alone one? Into the bin
• Two cans of ancient de-froster for the car.  Into the bin.
• Four packets of assorted sponges for wiping down surfaces. Ditto pan scourers.  I can only assume I had forgotten I had got them so bought some more. Well, they can come off the shopping list for the next six months.
• Six cans of Diet Coke bought for consumption of daughter at Christmas. She never drank them. In the fridge and I will encourage the kitchen fitters to imbibe and see the back of the wretched things.
• Tin of baking powder with use by date of 2006
• Tin of bicarbonate of soda (heaven knows why I have this) unopened, with a use by date of 2005
• Assorted packets of almonds, cashews and walnuts all with sell by dates of 2004
• Piece de resistance - a packet of gelatine with a use by date of 2002 (this was the earliest artifact I could find).
• Four sets of chopsticks.  Why and why four as I very rarely eat Chinese and then use a knife and fork like any sensible person
• Unused bake ware covered in rusty corners.  Into bin.
• About 4 dozen 100 watt bulbs which I am very happy to have as the Green Police (ssshh don't tell them) have now forbidden their use.  I remember that when getting these I had to buy triple packs with other wattage bulbs so I also have about 4 dozen 40 and 60 watt light bulbs respectively.  Sigh.
• Dried up paint brushes totally beyond saving. Into bin.
• Ten screwdrivers of assorted sizes.  I am sure these will come in useful one day.
• One hammer - ditto
• One tile cutter - have not tiled for years but am holding onto it.
• Dozens of assorted batteries - all now neat and tidy in a box as these are always needed
• Endless picture hooks minus the tacks that go with them.
• About three dozen of those little white things that go onto flat pack furniture to finish them off. HA! If you ever can finish them off that is.  As I have never put a piece of flat pack furniture together in my life, I am at a total loss to explain their presence in my kitchen drawer.
• Several spiders about which I will not speak.  The neighbours heard my shrieks...

All the boxes supplied to me by the kitchen company are piled up on my bedroom which now bears a starling resemblance to a local charity shop and this is how it will be for another few weeks until all is sorted and the kitchen finished.  I am sure it will be worth it in the end but oh dear, I wish I could just close my eyes and sleep through it all.

Which I am pretty damn sure I will do this afternoon anyway.

Have a lovely weekend everyone says she through gritted teeth...........

Narrow Escape on a Saturday

Well, Saturday afternoon and have just arisen after lying down on my bed for a couple of hours with a splitting headache and am feeling a trifle fragile.  Reason for this is that I was driving out this morning, loads of errands to do regarding the kitchen refit, ordering the flooring, picking up paint, new lights and then shopping as well.  Driving sedately along on the way home when a lorry rounded a corner to my right and turned in my direction and just as he came alongside me his back right hand tyre exploded into pieces with the most almighty bang.  Dust and pieces of tyre ricocheted in all directions, several large pieces hitting my windscreen, causing me to jam on my brakes.  The lorry driver reacted amazingly quickly and pulled off the road straight away, fortunately there was a bus stop space just where he stopped with his vehicle listing dangerously to the right.  He came straight over to see if I was ok, but no harm done to either me or the car except I was shaking from head to foot.  If the tyre had blown as he came round the corner, and not when he was alongside me, I have a sneaky feeling he would have hit me head on.  NOT a nice thought.

So after reassuring him all was OK and that, no I was not going to sue him, just one of those things, I went on my way, finished my shopping and came home and then the headache kicked in and I had to  lie down.  Feel a bit cold and chilly at the moment, can only assume it is a bit of shock so have a woolly jumper on, even though the sun is shining, and a scarf wrapped round my neck.  The usual comforting cup of tea to hand as well, though perhaps Carter's Little Liver Pills might be more efficacious.

What was a great comfort when I arrived home was to find that the postman had been and there were three of those lovely padded envelopes awaiting me.  One was the biography of Elizabeth Taylor by Nicola Beaumann, courtesy of Persephone and which I am looking forward to reading, a thriller, The Information Officer from the Amazon Vine programme and, to my utter delight as I had sent a cold call email to the publishers, Jane's Fame, how Jane Austen conquered the world by Claire Harman.  So that has soothed my trauma somewhat.

And then this evening I will be sitting down and listening to Gotterdamerung from the Met in New York, all five hours of it. Great stuff.  Now that really will make me feel better......

Friday bits and pieces

It is a glorious day, sun is shining, though a keen wind does take the edge off the warmth, but really just so good to sit here looking out the window and posting and all is relaxed and gemutlich.

An eclectic mix of books read in the last week and also coming up so here is a summing up of those I have enjoyed or not, recently:

Noel Coward - Collected Short Stories

.  Having only recently read and posted about The Master's only novel, Pomp and Circumstance, which was wonderful, I have now read his short stories, all in this one volume.  I say short, but Noel C obviously has the same take on what short means as does Henry James. With Henry this can lead to losing the will to live, but in Noel's case, the longer the better.  All quite dazzlingly wonderful and I am going to write about individual stories as a running thread for 2009 as they are worthy of a closer look. 

John Buchan - Mr Standfast.  I am working my way through the Richard Hannay books of this author and am loving them.  I have had some difficulty with the language and attitudes of the time these were written, but I have now got over that and am enjoying hugely these ripping yarns with their With One Bound he Was Free attitude.  Two more to go and I am saving them up.

The Behaviour of Moths - Poppy Adams.  Great setting, old Gothic house, sister comes home after 30 years away to rejoin her reclusive elder sibling, an expert on moths, who has never left home.  Promising but never quite made it, for me

anyway, and more information on moths than I really wanted to know.  Full of insects eating each other, suppurating pupae or whatever which rather turned my stomach and, in my opinion anyway, distracted from the main story line which is that of hidden secrets in the family and their uncovering and murder.  I can only say  do not read this if you have a meal coming up soon....

Nicola Upson - An Expert in Murder.  A conceit really, using the real author  Josephine Tey as a protagonist in a murder story.  I am putting in a link here to the review on Juxtabook which says all I need to say about this book and much more competently than I could express.  I agree with it all, save a small comment that I was not as totally convinced by the use of Tey.  But very very good.

Alexander McCall Smith - Tea Time for the Traditionally Built.  The latest in the No 1 Detective Agency series.  Nothing to say about this, only that it is as delightful as the others and a total comfort read. I have given up on the TV series as the subtle writing and characterisation of the characters has been completely missed as far as I am concerned.  It is impossible to capture and while I have always appreciated that the book and the TV series should be treated as two separate things entirely, I have been unable to do so in this case.  I am just so glad that AMS writes so many books and am looking forward to the next in the Isabel Dalhousie series which are my favourites.

Nicola Humble - The Feminine Middlebrow Novel 1920s to 1950s.  This book has been on an off my shelves over the last two years and I have finally set time aside to read it.  Does what it says on the tin, discusses the so called Middlebrow novels of this period and I found it fascinating to see just how many of these authors I have now read, many of them since I first purchased this book.  Dorothy Whipple, Angela Thirkell, Elizabeth Taylor etc etc.  Not a read you just pick up and rush through, I read it over three days, an hour or so at a time and my copy ended up covered in little yellow post its as various thoughts struck me.  By the time I had finished it was positively bristling with them so I decided not to post in detail in the end as I realised that many of these comments had already been made by me in individual posts on these authors and I would be repeating myself.  One author, E Arnot Robinson was mentioned several times and I suddenly had a recollection of coming across one of these which I picked up in a book sale purely because it had the Green Virago cover.  I checked and yes there it was, Ordinary Families.  So, that has now been moved to my TBR pile.

Patricia Wentworth - Miss Silver mysteries. I am now working my way through the last tranche of these books which have been loaned to me and, well, they are just gorgeous ranging from the 1930s to 1950s (same period as the Middlebrow Novel oddly enough) and I will be writing about them when I have finished the lot.

And finally, coming up.  Have been lucky this week with books arriving: Alma Books have sent me Austen's Love and Friendship; The Whole Day Through by Patrick Gale from the Amazon Vine Programme;  three intriguing books from Bloomsbury - John Berger To the Wedding, Anne Michaels Fugitive Pieces and The Solitude of Thomas Cave the first novel by Georgina Harding, whose The Spy Game I so enjoyed recently; and finally, A Seriously Useful Author's Guide to marketing and Publicising Books by Mary Cavanagh which tome has Random Jottings (and others I hasten to add) holding forth on blogging and such a thrill to see my name in print.

So all sorts of things going on and as my kitchen is being gutted next week and I have to empty my cupboards and pack everything away and as I am also flying off to Istanbul next Thursday (thus very neatly getting out the way while the first three days of bashing out cupboards and drilling for electrics is taking place) and I have to get all that organised as well, I am already feeling that it is All Too Much to Bear....

Thank goodness I don't have a job to go to.

Miss Buncle's Book - D E Stevenson

I am learning humility late in life.  D E Stevenson is another of those authors I turned my nose up at when young and silly. The list of such authors grows and grows:  Richmal Crompton, Dorothy Whipple, Hugh Walpole, Miss Read, Angela Thirkell and so it goes on. 

Persephone have recently republished Miss Buncle's Book.  I was not sure if I wanted to read it or not and was havering a bit when I picked up a copy of another D E Stevenson, The Two Mrs Abbotts, when I was manning a book stall a few weeks ago. An old, battered, falling apart paperback, published in the 1960s with the most ghastly and inappropriate cover of two rather glam ladies sitting drinking tea and trying terribly hard to look sexy and demure.  It is a hideous photograph.  Well, I was going to bin it as unsellable when I spotted the author and thought that I would take it home with me.  Within a few chapters I realised that this was a sequel to Miss Buncle's Book telling what happened after her foray into writing the novel which upset the entire village in which she lived.  I carried on reading it even though I was perhaps spoiling the surprise of its precursor, and found myself thoroughly enjoying it.  Very very Thirkell, very very Richmal Crompton.  Set in a village with all the usual suspects and characters one finds in village life.   So I read it, liked it and then of course, got on line and ordered a copy of Miss Buncle's Book.

And I loved it.  Sat down and read it straight through in one sitting with the odd tea break here and there but otherwise totally engrossed in this delightful and witty story.

Barbara Buncle is a dowdy spinster living in the village of Silverstream.  We are not told her age but I vaguely get the impression she might be in her mid-thirties.  She dressed appallingly badly and seems to lead a life of unremitting virtue and boredom.  She realises that her investments are producing very little income any more and she really is quite desperate for money so she writes a book. As you do. (Wish I could do this with such ease...).   Miss Buncle writes about what she knows - and what she knows is life in a village and as she weaves her story, she bases her ideas and narrative on her neighbours and members of the village, embroidering wildly though she unerringly hits upon the characteristics of her protagonists which they would prefer kept hidden.

The leader of society in the village, snobbish and bullying, used to be on the stage but wants everyone to forget her lowly start in life; a bad tempered novelist who cowes his wife and children into petrified silence; a money grabbing mean spirited woman living alone who decided to make a dead set for the new vicar who she hears has private means and is wealthy - Miss Buncle takes their lives and adds a twist and reveals them for what they are.  Well, of course they recognise themselves and are furious and determine to do something about it and to track down the author of the book who has had the novel published under the name of John Smith.  It goes without saying that the book is a huge best seller.

Miss Buncle is one of those English spinsters who tend to be overlooked and taken for granted:

"Meeting Miss Buncle in the street, Mr Abbott  would not have looked twice at her. A thin dowdy woman of forty he would have said (erring on the unkind side in the matter of her age) and passed on to pastures new.  But here, in his sanctum, with the knowledge that she had written an amusing novel, he looked at her with different eyes"

Miss Buncle speaks the truth, rather inconveniently at times, and is incapable of dissembling and this is what makes her charming and makes readers warm to her.  It is this truthfulness and the knack of going straight to the heart of a person which makes her dangerous as a writer as she watches, notes and then writes about everything she sees.    And when asked about her book:

"Why did you write it? How did you feel when you were writing it? Have you ever written anything before? he asked.

'I wanted money' said Miss Buncle simply'"

Now I like that answer. No faffing about or waffling on about artistic integrity or the compulsion to write and express her feelings, no 'I wanted money'.

Priceless. 

Loved loved loved this book.  I sat and beamed and giggled all the way through it, but also admired the underlying sharpness and acute eye and ear.  Not one of those 'nice' books at all, but perceptive and wise and I enjoyed every sentence.

Most of DE Stevenson's books are out of print and second hand copies are hard to find.  I found two a week or so ago when I visited Cambridge, Mrs Tim flies Home and Vittoria Cottage, about which I know nothing but I am very much looking forward to reading them.  I always like to have an author or two to track down and as I am visiting Hay on Wye in June, DE Stevenson is going on my Keeping an  Eye Out For list and I hope I can make some discoveries.

Bloomsbury are republishing Mrs Tim of the Regiment later on this year, so I have obviously stumbled across one in this series which is serendipity working well.  With Bloomsbury and Persephone  leading the way, perhaps D E Stevenson is due for a revival.  I do hope so.

Alma Books and Bloggerel

Over the last few years since literary and book blogs have proliferated and started to attract attention, we humble bloggers who are here because we love books and wish to share our thoughts on our particular obsession,  have come in for an awful lot of flak from people who really should know better.  From some of the articles that have been written about the 'ill informed', 'amateur' and 'illiterate' bloggers you would have thought we were all a threat to the literary life of the nation.  An enormous amount of this vituperation has come from book critics, in the larger papers, the Guardian, Times, Telegraph and others. 

I have never ever been able to understand what caused all this angst.  It is not as if I am going to be given the book page in any of the aforementioned papers and put them out of a job and, as these papers tend to review the same books as all the others, ie those with publicity and clout, books from smaller publishers tend to get overlooked and can never get any of these august critics to take a look at their offerings.  This is where bloggers come into their own.  As far as I am aware, most book bloggers read and review books totally unpaid.  We have no axe to grind, no loyalty to a particular house, nobody telling us what we must read and must say...rather like a free house pub who can sell what beers he likes without a particular brewery breathing down its neck.

I receive a lot of review books from publishers which never fails to astonish and please me as I never ever thought when I started Random that anybody would think I was capable of producing a post that make any kind of difference whatsoever to the sales of a book.  However, I have been assured to the contrary by large publishing houses as well as small which is a great boost to one's self esteem I can tell you.

This long preamble is by way of drawing to your notice another of the smaller publishers, Alma Books, who wrote to me the other day, along with other bloggers,  offering a link to their website on their blog The Bloggerel, where their "editors, translators, authors and readers are sharing their views on books and on the publishing world. We love being involved in the literary blogging community and we would like to keep you aware of our latest news".     Alma Books have launched a series of classics:  Oneworld Classics some of which are familiar to me as I have seen these particular editions in the bookshops.    It also appears that in 2007 they acquired the Calder Publications list and be republishing many of their titles which includes authors such as Duras, Ionesco and Robbe-Grillet. Do check out their catalogue here.

And without wishing to sound like a candidate for sainthood, I can assure you that when I receive a request such as I have received from Alma Books then I am more than happy to write about them on Random - they will send me a book to have a look at and if I like it, and mostly I do, then I will review it.  If I don't like it, then I keep stumm as I always, but always remind myself that for every person who loathes a book there will be a reader out there who loves it.  

I have had another lovely quiet relaxing day today reading books, thinking about them and writing this post.  I am enjoying my retirement which gives me the time to do so, early days yet I know but fingers crossed this continues. 

And the thud of another book hitting the door mat as the postman arrives is one of those pleasures that I hope continues for a long long time to come.  Not that I am hinting or anything you understand........

Retired Random - local discoveries

Behind my small block of flats is what appears to be a wilderness where there are blackberry bushes, a lot of trees and wild wood.  I have taken a short cut through it many times but have never explored even though a few years ago the Council, who own it, came and hacked away some of the undergrowth and put paths down and generally had a clear up.  Last week when the sun was shining I went out for a walk (trying to do this on a daily basis now) and decided I would explore further than I have been before. 

  

 

So I went along this path and strolled along, went round a bend and came across a pond.  No idea it was there, though as Bourne Mill, a National Trust property is next door to me, it was obvious that there would be another stream and another pond somewhere.  So I trolled along even further and came along two ducks having a quiet snooze in the sun. They opened an eye and looked at me but did not move so I tiptoed past and left them in peace.

  

Coming back on the circuit I was on more familiar ground as I found myself on the opposite side of the lake where the Mill is located but had not seen it at this angle before.  Spotted one swan on the lake, its mate sitting on a nest at the end, tucked away, so no doubt cygnets will be seen soon. 

 

Then further round the lake found mother duck with all her offspring, splashing around and she was quacking and keeping an eye on them. 

 

Then found myself on the side of the lake near to the road which I know well and here is a view of Bourne Mill and you can see by the blue sky just how pretty it was that day.

Now, I have lived in this flat for 9 years and had never found this walk.  I have never had the time to do that extra bit of exploring, to go out of my way, I was usually shopping or on an errand.  I did the round walk again this morning and intend to make this a regular thing.  Today, Sunday, lots of dads taking their children out in their buggies etc and all feeding the ducks, drakes, moor hens and swans on the lake and always a lovely sight. Of course, when the tiny little ducklings were spotted by the children this morning you can imagine their reaction and hardly surprising, little golden brown balls of fluff paddling away like mad.  So sweet.

This is a lovely wild wooded area and I also found a patch of bluebells hidden under a bush and brought some home with me.  There are loads of blackberry bushes as well so come August/September I will be out there gathering them for jam and at Christmas may just cut a bit of holly which also seems to be in abundance.   These are the sort of discoveries I am making now I am at home, I am also chatting to my neighbours and getting to know them so much better and when I was in Bury St Edmunds (see earlier post) I kept thinking hnow lucky I was to be there and that I could now do this sort of thing whenever I wanted.  I came back via Long Melford which has the most stunning church, Kentwell Hall and Long Melford Hall and a huge village green and is a great place to visit and I shall return again in the summer.  So many lovely local places to see now I have that most wonderful of all gifts - time.

However, I do wonder how much longer this discovery of mine will be left as it is, particularly as right at the end of the walk, there is a sign saying 'Coming soon -  luxury houses. Land acquired'.  I hope it does not refer to Bourne Valley but as most of Colchester is now covered in Barratt and Persimmon homes, nothing would surprise me.  I came to the conlcusion years ago that if the Council could get away with flogging off the Castle and converting it into luxury apartments it would do so.

Cynical moi?

Restoring the Repertoire

On Thursday I paid a visit to Bury St Edmunds with my good friend Jan Jones to attend an evening performance at the Theatre Royal of The Wolf and the Lamb by Thomas Egerton Wilkes and The Celebrated Mrs Inchbald, written and performed by Katie Bonna. This came under the umbrella of a programme entitled Restoring the Repertoire - A Series of rehearsed readings of forgotten gems from the 18th Century theatrical repertoire.

   

The first of these two pieces was not in costume but was a reading of a play which had been read through and rehearsed by the actors for the first time that afternoon.  It was an extremely silly and funny farce about two identical brothers who had been brought up separately, one turned out to be an honourable and studious young man, Edwin and his brother, who rejoiced in the name of Gossamer had spent his life in London and was a cad and a rake and all that was shallow and dastardly.  Their cousin Rose has to marry one of them or forfeit a fortune and of course Edwin adores her but is too shy to tell her of his love, and she turns to Gossamer who is prepared to marry her purely for her fortune.  Well, we all know that there is going to be lots of mishaps and mistakes and muddles in mistaken identity before all ends happily and so it does, but it was tremendous fun and acted with great verve and brio by the actors.

The second half was a one person monologue about Mrs Inchbald. The programme notes tell us that 'independent, determined, ambitious, witty and talented the beautiful Mrs Inchbald was a remarkable woman and not just by the standards of the period she lived in.  Born in Stanningfield near Bury St Edmunds, she became one of the most successful playwrights of her time and her play Lover's Vows is  immortalized in Jane Austen's Mansfield Park'

Katie Bonna who both wrote and acted in this play was very very good indeed at bringing to life all her friends and family, switching between the different characterisations with great ease and style. This was a fascinating piece but it really did require concentration and attention from the audience, which she certainly obtained and held.  My knowledge of this period of history is not as comprehensive as I would like it to be, in fact it is pretty poor, but suddenly in the  middle of The Celebrated Mrs Inchbald, Mary Wollstonecraft and her marriage to William Godwin was mentioned and suddenly it all fell into place and I had the sense of period there in my grasp which really enhanced my enjoyment of this piece. (My knowledge of Mr Godwin and Mary was gained by reading Death and the Maiden by Janet Todd last year which I reviewed here).  

At the end of the evening the company came onto the stage and a question and answer discussion took place between the audience and the actors which was extremely interesting and I put forward the view that knowing something of the background and historical context of the Mrs Inchbald play must surely add to our enjoyment and would it be a different kettle of fish to perform this play in front on an audience who knew nothing about it?  I gather that this has already been done and seemed to be well accepted and, really, I suppose you would be highly unlikely to attend an evening like this unless you were interested in this period.   

An alert and intelligent audience and one who obviously love and support this theatre which is an absolute gem and recently restored and renovated.  They do Shakespeare and opera there as well and I cannot think of a more perfect way to spend an evening in this wonderful building (the only working Georgian theatre in the UK I gather) watching such delightful acting as this.  We were sitting in one of the boxes actually on the stage which put us slap bang in the middle of the action and it was such fun being so close. 

 

Earlier in the day, Jan had taken me to the assembly rooms to have a look round as she had already told me just how wonderful the ante room was and here is a picture.  Doesn't this just knock your socks off?  Just as good as Bath and every Jane Austen character you can think of would be at home here.  Simply gorgeous.