Summer Quotations - Wednesday 27th July

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Carvings,_Exeter_Cathedral_-_geograph.org.uk_-_797909.jpg

I had more or less assumed that I wasn't going to find a quotation for today.

Then this came up;

"in necessary things unity; in uncertain things freedom; in everything charity"

once again attributed to St Augustine of Hippo, and once again, (thanks, wikipedia), re-attributed to someone else, in this case

the Archbishop of Split (Spalato), Marco Antonio de Dominus in his anti-Papal "De Repubblica Ecclesiastica"

by which you will see that the phrase originates in a theological context. Here's the wikipedia link:

 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_necessariis_unitas,_in_dubiis_libertas,_in_omnibus_caritas

Well, it might originate from a Christian theological source, but the words have a lot going for them in any context...

starting with which things are to be considered necessary... and that is where everything begins to tumble

No, much better to start at the end and work backwards... "in everything, charity (caritas)"

In necessariis unitas, in dubiis libertas, in omnibus caritas

Summer Quotations - Tuesday 26th July

In a post on Twitter, someone put up this poem by George Herbert:



It is not a quick read. Eventually the words resolved themselves into a list of some of the many things things that make up prayer. I had to do a bit of googling around to find my way in. Is the sinner's "towre", which the footnote kindly explains as "fort", protecting him from the wrath of God, or keeping him safe from sin?

Another commentary explains that "Angels age" means "eternal".

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Knapton_Church_Interior_-_Angel_carving_on_the_roof_-_geograph.org.uk_-_278153.jpg

I love the third line... "The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage"

After the fury and violence of the middle lines, comes a more gentle, soothing tone.

"The milkie way, the bird of Paradise, Church-bels beyond the stars heard...."

I remember lying our under the stars in the back garden when I was a child, looking at the bright whiteness of the Milky Way...

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Center_of_the_Milky_Way_Galaxy_from_the_mountains_of_West_Virginia_-_4th_of_July_2010.jpg

So where's the quotation? Sometimes on Sunday mornings we listen to the Radio 4 programme "Something Understood". usually delivered by Mark Tully (I always associate him with India, "The land of spices"). I though it was rather a "New-Agey" sort of title for the programme. But it's not New at all.



Here's a link to George Herbert's church St Andrew's, Bemerton where they discuss the poem
http://www.georgeherbert.org.uk/Archive/selected_work_27.html

Summer Quotation for Monday 25th July

I didn't think I was going to find a quote for today - and then,

Dans ses écrits, un sage Italien 

Dit que le mieux est l'ennemi du bien.

Well, not quite. The quotation I actually found was

"Perfection is the enemy of done"

but when I went a-googling, I ended up here

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Perfect_is_the_enemy_of_good

where I discovered that

Perfect is the enemy of good is an aphorism, an English variant of the older better is the enemy of good, which was popularized by Voltaire in French form. Alternative forms include "the perfect is the enemy of the good", which more closely translate French and earlier Italian sayings, or "[the] perfect is the enemy of [the] good enough". Similar sentiments occur in other phrases, including from English, and are all attested since around 1600. 

The quotation I put at the top of this post is from Voltaire. Following this up took me to Japan, and the Japanese idea of wabi sabi. Here's some more wikipedia

Wabi-sabi (侘寂^?) represents Japanese aesthetics and a Japanese world view centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection. The aesthetic is sometimes described as one of beauty that is "imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete".^[2] It is a concept derived from the Buddhist teaching of the three marks of existence (三法印 sanbōin^?), specifically impermanence (無常mujō^?), suffering (苦 ku^?) and emptiness or absence of self-nature (空 kū^?).Characteristics of the wabi-sabi aesthetic include asymmetry, asperity (roughness or irregularity), simplicity, economy, austerity, modesty, intimacy, and appreciation of the ingenuous integrity of natural objects and processes.

Wabi-sabi tea bowl, Azuchi–Momoyama period, 16th century

This "wabi sabi" goes some way to explain the Bernard Leach pots I remember seeing in the Tate at ST Ives, Cornwall over thirty years ago, (and in other places since). When I first saw them I thought that they were rather dull, but they've grown on me over time.

Thrown bowl by Bernard Leach

Years ago, we went to a craft fair at Wakefield Place. That's when I tried blacksmithing, and made a thing for holding a garden flare, but that's another story. I also had a go at glazing a raku pot. The potter had made several different designs of pot in advance, and we were shown how to dip them in the glaze and fire them. All tremendously exciting, because, while still red-hot, they were plunged into a container full of wood shavings, or maybe sawdust, which promptly burst into flames and smoke. Then, before they had completely cooled, they were put into a bucket of cold water.

So, the wabi-sabi tea bowl above also appears in the raku pottery entry in wikipedia, with the caption

An Azuchi-Momoyama period (16th century) black Raku-style chawan, used for thick tea (Tokyo National Museum)

Here are our pots (our daughter had a go too; wonder if you remember?). I think mine is the brown bowl, and her's the blue jar, but I'm not sure. I've taken them down from the high dusty shelf, washed and dried them. They are going to look fab upstairs on the bathroom on the bedroom window sill.

  

So, what started all this reminiscing? Ah yes. "Perfection is the enemy of done". 

Summer Quotation for Sunday 24th July

Three posts in a row, so that I don't lose the quotations that I've found so far:

"Le couer a ses prisons que l'intelligence n'ouvre pas" - Marcel Jouhandeau

It looks as though he had a difficult life - I'm not going into details because you can read a potted biography here  on wikipedia.

But I was delighted to discover this on the wikipedia page:

"During World War I, he was initially a secretary in his hometown of Guéret. In 1924 he published "Pincegrain", a barely disguised chronicle of the inhabitants of Guéret, which shocked the people of the town."

Guéret est la préfecture de la Creuse depuis la création du département en 1790
https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gu%C3%A9ret

I wonder if D E Stevenson ever came across his writings - this is exactly the plot of her book "Miss Buncle's Book" which I read recently and enjoyed hugely.

The quotation project is proving to be a mine of non sequiteurs and serendipitous information.

Summer Quotation for Saturday 23rd July

This one was delivered as a scary and ominous threnody, by "Aunt Effie Fortescue" and "Miss Marple" in last night's film of "A Pocketful of Rye" by Agatha Christie. The Joan Hickson Marple, of course - all other Marples pale into insignificance beside her.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joan_Hickson

They've just discovered yet another body, at night, in the garden. I can't remember exactly who said what, but it went something like this;

Aunt Effie (in a voice of doom); "For where a testament is"
Miss Marple (in a voice of moral certitude) "there must also be the death of the testator"
Aunt Effie (looks round sharply, with approval) "For a testament is of force after men are dead"
Miss Marple (thoughtfully) "otherwise it is of no strength at all while the testator liveth"

There was something about the inner strength portrayed by these two elderly, upright characters, intoning words of power like Abbesses that held my attention.

It's from Paul's letter to the Hebrews, Chapter 9, starting at verse 16, where he starts on yet another convoluted explanation:

Hebrews 9:16-28King James Version (KJV)

16 For where a testament is, there must also of necessity be the death of the testator. 17 For a testament is of force after men are dead: otherwise it is of no strength at all while the testator liveth. 18 Whereupon neither the first testament was dedicated without blood. 19 For when Moses had spoken every precept to all the people according to the law, he took the blood of calves and of goats, with water, and scarlet wool, and hyssop, and sprinkled both the book, and all the people, 20 Saying, This is the blood of the testament which God hath enjoined unto you. 21 Moreover he sprinkled with blood both the tabernacle, and all the vessels of the ministry. 22 And almost all things are by the law purged with blood; and without shedding of blood is no remission.

23 It was therefore necessary that the patterns of things in the heavens should be purified with these; but the heavenly things themselves with better sacrifices than these. 24 For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true; but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us: 25 Nor yet that he should offer himself often, as the high priest entereth into the holy place every year with blood of others; 26 For then must he often have suffered since the foundation of the world: but now once in the end of the world hath he appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself. 27 And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment: 28 So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; and unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time without sin unto salvation.

 I find Paul's letters in the King James version utterly impenetrable, and usually end up looking them up in "The Message" or the "Good News" version before I can get to grips with what he was on about. Sometimes that helps, sometimes it doesn't.

I wonder where Agatha Christie got the idea to include that particular bit of the Bible in her book? Do you suppose they had it as one of the lessons in church that morning?  

Summer Quotation for Friday 22nd July

I thought it might be amusing to see if I could collect a quotation a day -
that is, not to go looking for them, but spot them in passing.

This is Friday's - found in Waterstones in Brighton. I should have taken a picture...

It was displayed above a pile of travel books

"Not all who wander are lost" - St Augustine

It sounded familiar (and I haven't summoned the mental strength and stamina for embarking upon the writings of St Augustine yet).

Here we go;

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.

It is from "The Lord of the Rings" by Tolkein. Not St Augustine! 

Try this link  to checkout other travel quotes... where you will read that St Augustine appears to have disapproved of travelling...

Today is Sunday - I've skipped church - again. Hey - not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither. Deep roots are not reached by the frost. Amen.

Friday 22nd July - First Day of Summer Holidays

I did my last bit of teaching on Thursday evening, so my holiday unofficially began on the Friday.

Friday was quite a packed day - routine bits and pieces first thing, take my father to the station, and then,  

why not?

why not indeed?

So we went to Brighton. Lunch in Waterstones cafe - very acceptable tuna melt panini - I'll have that again -  and then to the serious work of shopping. I did have a very specific shopping list of things that I can't buy on-line - things I wanted to see and touch.

Ackermann's music first (BB went for a stroll around the block to see what was going on nearby - and then another stroll - he knows I can spend HOURS in a music shop) and seventy pounds later I had chosen a couple of kilo's weight of music books for next term's teaching. I mention the weight - it was about ten books, but it's the weight that matters when you are walking round and about.

We called in at Adaptatrap where I encountered a Kora

(The kora is a 21-string lute-bridge-harp used extensively in West Africa - wikipedia)

the owner of the shop  was tuning one for a customer - what a lovely, radiant  sound. I've got this playing on youtube as I finish this post.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hnTDuahaXwg

I managed not to buy one, not to even touch, as I knew that I would just get out my barclaycard and buy one, and we were already carrying too much stuff. I don't even know the price. Let's just walk away....

Then to the Best Shop of all -



where we both spent a good time browsing, circling round and round the displays until we made our final selections.

After that we were pretty much done with shopping, and made our way down to the sea front, and then back to the car, and home.

I wasn't finished with Friday yet though - I went to a staff "do" at a nearby pub noted for pizza and skittles. Oh yay! Skittles is Good Game.

The clock was just about striking midnight as I arrived home... what a way to start the holidays.

Saturday 9th July - Izzy wizzy let's get even busier

Having had a nearly Saturday yesterday, it feels like a three day weekend.

It started well, with croissants and coffee brought upstairs for breakfast-in-bed. Nice. We've had breakfast-in-bed a few times recently, but of the marmalade on toast kind, rather than proper croissants.

And then it was go go go. We moved the cookery books that were ready to go to the charity shop to an upstairs bedroom (there's a surprise waiting for someone when they come and stay) as a friend would like to go through them first.  

More on the garden, including moving a couple of sun-roses from their tubs into the newly-dug front garden:

They were looking increasingly unhappy in their tubs, and I hope they will like their new home better. I've also replanted about a third of all the bulbs we've been digging up - no idea whether they are crocus, large daffodil, narcisus, hyacinth or miniature iris. Might even be a tulip or two. Spring will be a series of surprises. Unless they sulk and don't come up. Tomorrow may well include a trip to the garden centre to find something to fill the empty tubs.

All that effort required cake. I made some last night - just the good ol' yogurt cake recipe, with chunks of defrosted apple sliced dropped on top before they it went into the oven. I haven't even bothered to extract it from the tin, as it's not gong to last long with all this digging going on.

Just the right-hand end left to go.  

We've another unhappy shrub to move to the front once we've made a proper space for it.


Lunch - breathe, relax, and round to my father's flat. We've moved some furniture round, and clothes from one wardrobe to another, and created some space in a bookshelf and just generally moved the reorganisation project, to make a study from the small bedroom and move his stuff into the large bedroom, along a few steps. Here's hoping he will manage a good night's sleep, now that we've moved the bed; I forgot that the study-bedroom has a blackout blind, and the other one does not...

Early night tonight...

Sort of Saturday 8th July

Except it's Friday, as I now realise. I've known it was Friday for most of the day, but every so often it sort of changes in my mind.

The morning started with emergency piano accompaniment practice for a saxophone exam that I was accompanying at 10, and for my harpsichord lesson at 11:30. The saxophone exam went OK - for me, and, as far as I can tell, for the candidate. The harpsichord lesson was going to be distinctly hard graft - more practice would have made all my pieces a lot easier to manage.

However, for some reason, he didn't turn up. I stood outside the locked music school listening to birdsong, smelling the lime-blossom,

looking at the various statues on the nearby buildings,

watching the swallows flitting between avenue of trees, and just enjoyed half an hour's peace, before slowly wandering back across the nearly deserted campus (minutes earlier, hordes of teenagers all chatting in French/Italian/Spanish had been scurrying hither and thither, but they disappeared into various buildings and silence happened again).

Home for lunch. While it settled, we filled the bags for a charity shop run tomorrow.

Then then we "went at" the front garden. These pictures, going from right to left, show the unimproved state, the work in in progress stage, and what we are hoping to achieve right across the front.

 This patch was strimmed a while ago, and then... nothing happened except rain and busyness.

 Moving along, we've had to dig out huge knots and mats of couch grass. The roots go under and in-between Everything.

Here's the end where we have just about finished. This fuschia has been steadily shrinking over the years - unsurprising when we removed nearly half a bucket full of bulbs from among its roots (and yards of couch grass). We've given it some "gro-more" and a bucket of water - hope it thinks that it is a treat.

I also worked my way down the border between us and next-door. They have covered their flower beds in gravel, and we intend to follow their example in due course. I discovered that the slugs all live under that wooden edging strip. Or did. I have rehomed in them into the garden waste bin.

.

After that, a cup of tea was in order; but when I came to chuck the teabags somewhere, kitchen compost bin was full,

so I went to empty it into the wormery. An impenetrable forest of roses, goose-grass and other vegetation sprawled nonchelently across the whole area.

Another half an hour with secateurs and thick gloves made it possible to empty the kitchen compost bin (while singing A handsome prince came riding by, riding by, riding by, a handsome prince came riding by, log a go. He chopped the trees down with his sword, with his sword, with his sword etc to myself).

All done.No, hang on a minute, it's Friday, not Saturday. A young lad is due in fifteen minutes for a theory lesson, and the table looks like this..

Byee - work to do!
(PS It's a balafon, in case you were wondering)

Sunday 3rd July - What's up?

It looks like nearly a month since I last "wrote" a letter to y'all.

Well, here you are...

Dear Everyone,

I find it increasingly hard to remember what I have been doing yesterday, let alone last week, so here are some random highlights:

I got stuck in stationary traffic a week or so ago on the northern bypass. No idea what was gong on, but our two lanes were chockablocka, and the two lanes going the other way were empty. A police car squeezing down the middle of our cars provided some excitement, but otherwise I had plenty of time to sit and stare. Which is when I noticed these great curds of unfolding Giant Hogweed at this end of the Nature Reserve.

So I snatched a photograph through the windscreen of my car as nothing else was happening.

It's not that clear unless you know what to look for. I managed to get another glimpse a day or so ago, and it is even more spectacular, but no photograph - I'm usually going past at about 50 mph and fully occupied with getting into the right, or rather left, lane in order to get home, so not much attention to spare for Hogweed, Giant or otherwise. 

What else? Deer on on the road through a forestry plantation near the local scout camp? I was alerted by seeing the back end of one disappear through a gap in the hedge, so had already dropped my speed before a second deer bounced out of the trees and trotted up the road in front of me, scouting for its exit. I've been a bit cautious along that road since then.

My father has been expressing an interest in trying out a smart phone "I'm jealous of the way you all keep pulling out your phone and just looking things up on the internet". So we got hold of one of the younger generation's discarded smart phone (not our son or daughter), and charged it up to see what it would do. What it did do was to get very hot, and then hotter, and then very, very much hotter, with no sign of stopping getting hotter, and also refuse to power down. We were about to go out, and as it would have been inconvenient to come back to a pile of ashes and rubble where the house had once been standing, we put it on a concrete slab down the bottom of the garden with a tin tub on top. I reckon someone has had a near escape from a smoking trouser pocket... 

The Summer Term is slowly drawing to a close (unless you are teaching at a private/public school in which case it probably has closed already - not that I'm jealous or anything). Last week two of my teaching programmes ended for the year. Another two finish this week; it means a series of "concerts", or maybe "show-and-play" might be nearer the mark. So you would think that things were winding down, but no; there's another samba workshop to do, and extra lessons in preparations for accompanying some music exams. I spent last week wrestling with a Brahms song, slowly upping the speed on my metronome until I could scrabble through it at 152 beats per minute. Which is roughly 300 notes per minute, Which is 5 per second. Luckily it is quite a pretty song - just as well, as I have it stuck in my ears as an ear-worm.  

My pink teaching bag is slowly going from its tidy, start of the week state

to stuffed with a whole load of random bits of paper jammed in any-old-how

so that I abandon it and just pull out what I think I might need for the day. So, tomorrow I will be packing a djembe, a ukulele, a giant print-out of the words of Yellow Submarine printed in three colours (for the ukulele lesson, Red for C, Blue for F and Green for G7 in the hope that they will accompany the song with an approximation to the chords), a bucket full of descant recorders, and a selection of piano music in case any of my piano pupils forget their music. Also mp3 player, guitar amp, packed lunch.... ah, and my lesson plans and three different ID cards! And waterproof jacket. It is Summer, after all.