Friday 30th November - Busy times ahead

   James MacMillan's   'Miserere' That's the music for today.

Today is not the last day before Advent. It is the last day before Advent Calendars. NOT the same thing.

So tomorrow I will light the first tealight,
and the Advent candle,
and investigate the first drawer of my Advent calendar,
and take a decoration from the pocket on the cloth Advent calendar to hang on the patchwork tree, and click on the first bauble on my Jacquie Lawson computer Advent calendar,
and read the first entry in my 'Art of Advent' book,
and the first entry in my 'Haphazard by Starlight' book.

And I will try and do this every day for as long as the calendars, and the chapters in the books last - that's 24th, or 25th of December, or Epiphany in January next year.

That's not including trying to follow Dame Catherine's advice - which luckily doesn't start until Advent, which is Sunday 2nd;

read the scripture passages for each day (in my little old prayer book - a Confirmation Present from my Godfather),
and spend a few minutes in prayer
and find time for silence
and be kind to people
and not get too cheesed off when I don't manage to do all these things!

There won't be any time left in the day for anything else!

Thursday 29th November - The End Is Nigh

The end of National Blog Promotion whatsit thingy is what I'm talking about. Only one more post to go.....

Today's music - I haven't heard it yet as the television is on and I'm not sure if Monteverdi opera and adverts for men's shavers go together. They are two very different styles of music.

So I will have to wait for a suitable moment to listen to the duet 'Pur ti miro' - 'I gaze at you' from The Coronation of Poppea by Claudio Monteverdi (1567-1643). It seems that back in Ancient Rome (AD65) Nero, the emporer, is married to Octavia but in love with Poppea, who is engaged to Otho who is beloved of Drusilla. It is all going to end in tears, I reckon.

Aha, the TV has been switched off - I'm listening to this version, sung beautifully by Danielle De Niese (soprano) as Poppea in a gold sequinned, strapless, drapey dress, and Philippe Jaroussky as Nerone, (counter-tenor) in another gold-sequinned, mercifully not strapless, drapey dress. The duet is so lovely I'm going to listen to it again.

I had my lesson observation this afternoon. It went well - what a relief. Glad that's over. I had to prepare three 'proper' lesson plans because of  all the delays and rescheduling -  very wearing. My usual efforts are handwritten jottings - the same sorts of words, but not organised into boxes and bold and italic type.

What else? This book arrived in the post; a present from a member of the family.



It is one I have had my eye on since I dipped into it at a friend's house a year or so ago. I have managed to read just the introduction and no more.

'Haphazard by starlight' is a quote from a poem by U A Fanthorpe;

U.A. Fanthorpe (born 1929)

BC:AD
This was the moment when Before
Turned into After, and the future's
Uninvented timekeepers presented arms.
This was the moment when nothing
Happened. Only dull peace
Sprawled boringly over the earth.
This was the moment when even energetic Romans
Could find nothing better to do
Than counting heads in remote provinces.
And this was the moment
When a few farm workers and three
Members of an obscure Persian sect
Walked haphazard by starlight straight
Into the kingdom of heaven.

Just imagine composing these words

'Walked haphazard by starlight straight into the kingdom of heaven'.

I hope U A Fanthorpe was pleased with herself; this phrase is giving me a lot of pleasure.

Ah well. Time to walk haphazard by electric light straight up the stairs to bed. To sleep, perchance to dream. Sweet dreams, I hope.

from Spooky Pianotime (I'm teaching this to a pupil at the moment)

Although the Tchaikovsky piece is Much Sweeter

Wednesday 28th November - Advent begins to begin

Once my birthday has happened, I really start thinking about Advent, and then Christmas.

Each year I try and make time for a bit more Christian spirituality in Advent to balance the practical preparations for Christmas. This year I have bought a book (or rather downloaded it) called Art in Advent which takes a picture as a starting point for a daily meditation. I have refrained from reading too much in advance; just enough to see that the first picture is this;

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

 by William Blake, called 'The Ancient of Days'. Interestingly, wikipedia notes that the image was used for the cover of Stephen hawking's book 'And God Created the Integers'




I follow the blog written by a Benedictine called Dame Catherine Wybourne. Today she gives 5 suggestions to follow in Advent;

Summarised, they are

1. Read the daily lessons set for the Mass (or Eucharist)
2. Try and find a few minutes every day for prayer
3. Try and find some silence each day
4. Keep it simple, and keep it kind 
5. Try not to worry about all the commercialism, or meeting the demands of everyone. A smile or some kind words can be a precious gift to share. 

I reckon I can 'try', starting on Sunday 2nd December, the first Sunday in Advent - and I'm not going to beat myself up if I don't succeed.

Less 'spiritually', I will enjoy opening the little doors in my wooden Advent calendar (a birthday present from several years ago), lighting the tealights and the advent candles I have bought, and hanging the decorations of the cloth calendar I made.

The Tree will be going up this weekend, or more likely next weekend. Good and Early!

Meanwhile, right now, I am celebrating finishing a course of antibiotics by having a glass of ginger wine and some palmiers.

I have already listened to some of today's music from the 'Year of Wonder' book;
Chopin Nocturne in D flat major. I didn't like the first version I listened to, but this Barenboim one suits me better. I have been learning this one in B flat minor, but I've a long way to go. Here's Barenboim again...

Monday 27th November - It was a dark and stormy afternoon

By half past three, when I looked out of the little room where I had been teaching all day, it seemed like it was already dark. The sky was overcast, and it was raining, and all definitely dusk-like.

I've discovered how to crash my laptop. Put it in my back-pack in such a way that it manages to press down the volume and on-off control at the same time. Luckily, he has also discovered how to recover it from it's unhappy state. So that's all right then.

Here's today's music - I was amused to find it is 'Hymn to the Dawn' (bearing in mid how dark the evening was) from 'Choral Dreams from the Rig Veda' by Gustav Holst. Only three minutes long. Rather good.

Monday 26th November - A Very Important Day

Hooray! I've had a pretty good day today; lots of cards, happy birthday texts, presents, steak, cake...

and that's on top of an early birthday at the weekend (cards, present) and a birthday treat this coming weekend (meal out).  Thank you everyone.

I'm looking forward to Advent too; I've done my Advent tea-lights, extracted the wooden Advent calendars from the not-in-the-loft-with-the-other-Christmas-things place (yes, we've made That Mistake plenty of times before!) and loaded the Jacquie Lawson Advent calendar (a birthday present from Canada) onto the computer;

This is the icon that sits on the desktop screen, with the flakes of snow gently twirling around. I have resisted opening up the scene (so far).

I did have a sneak preview of the music for today. It is by Steve Reich, an American minimalist composer. I am delighted that this is the choice for my birthday. I have come across Steve Reich's music in only two contexts, both of which made a big impression on me. Once wa in my first few weeks at university; somewhere I still have a copy of the excerpt of his 'Clapping Music' which we struggled with in a seminar.

Here's score;

https://musescore.com/user/28073984/scores/5067795

It is a pretty straightforward idea; each numbered section is played twice. Clapper 1 (top line) keeps the same pattern through out, but Clapper 2 shifts their pattern by one count at the beginning of each section. It was composed in 1972; we were trying to perform it in 1975 - talk about 'Early Adopters'!

The second piece of Steve Reich's music I encountered is called 'Different Trains'. A short recording was included in the resources for a music scheme I was using when teaching back in about 2001. Again, it is a surprisingly modern inclusion, as it was composed in 1990.

Here's wikipedia describing this;

Different Trains (1988), for string quartet and tape, uses recorded speech, as in his earlier works, but this time as a melodic rather than a rhythmic element. In Different Trains, Reich compares and contrasts his childhood memories of his train journeys between New York and California in 1939–1941 with the very different trains being used to transport contemporaneous European children to their deaths under Nazi rule. The Kronos Quartet recording of Different Trains was awarded the Grammy Award for Best Classical Contemporary Composition in 1990. The composition was described by Richard Taruskin as "the only adequate musical response—one of the few adequate artistic responses in any medium—to the Holocaust", and he credited the piece with earning Reich a place among the great composers of the 20th century.^[22]



Anyway, back to today's music; Steve Reichs 'Music for Pieces of Wood'. I was mesmerised; wonderful. This 'Year of Wonder' wander through November has been an unexpected source of pleasure. Here's a graphic score version, using electronic sounds which makes everything clear. Sort of.

Sunday 25th November - None-day

Last week was pretty busy, and I was glad of the opportunity for a lazy day today. Too lazy to even play with my pre-birthday present;



not just an ordinary every-day saxoflute, but the Super Saxoflute Builder Kit! Weird and wonderful.

I finished reading my book, and spent some time pondering why I found it rather unsatisfying. I think it is the writing style - not enough time given to describing the characters and the locations, too busy getting on with the plot. I'll go back to reading Jane Austen's 'Northanger Abbey' for a while now. The hardback copy I found in my bookshelves is going on the charity pile as I cannot bear the soppy illustrations. Somehow the faces of the people, and the way their clothes are portrayed, seems to be out of phase with the 1800s as I imagine them. My kindle copy doesn't have any pictures, so I am spared that irritation.

So what else did I accomplish today? Having a bath, getting dressed, watering the houseplants, knitting a bit more of the multicoloured scarf, visiting my father...

ordering some music, and a few other bits and pieces....

yup. that's about it.

Tomorrow I'll be back at work, teaching, and I'll also be a whole year older.

Music; Barber's Adagio for Strings, composed when he was only 26 years old.

This is the original version, composed for string quartet,

and quite different to the orchestral version. He used it again, for a choral setting of the Agnus Dei. 

Saturday 24th November - Sat-down day

Yes, I have done a lot of sitting down today - not all of it at my ease.

When I was about fifteen years old, I changed schools, and therefore changed piano teachers. I didn't take to the new teacher. Her teaching style was different, and she was a lot older (probably about the same age as I am now). I think she was the one who made me decide that I would NEVER become a piano teacher. One of the reasons was that when she sat on the old-fashioned piano stool, one like this,



her rear-end, upholstered in sensible tweed, exactly fill the space between the handles on either side. I reckoned that if sitting on a piano stool all day did that to your figure then I would choose another career. Oh well.

So I spent this morning sitting on a piano stool like this

teaching a procession of tired, coughing children. The winter term is certainly taking it out of everyone. 

Luckily I had my trusty flask of real coffee with me, and a separate flask filled with our latest Find in the way of tea;


not to be confused with lemon-and-ginger or (slight shudder) gingerbread flavour tea. In fact, He and are are sitting companionably near each other; I'm rattling out this blog post, and he's reading his kindle and providing a lap for Leo the cat.

The house is very quiet now - The offsprings came last night for a flying stopover. They had a full weekend involving, amongst other activities, sleeping in, meeting up with friends, go-karting and  construction of a banoffee pie. We are not getting any pie, except for a remaining chocolate digestive biscuit (why not bung it in with the rest, I ask myself?) and a spare chocolate flake. The pie itself has gone with them to a Thanksgiving Supper, organised every year by the hosts of the weekly pasta-and-games evening that happens throughout the year.

Today's music is the first of 'Three Sacred Hymns' by Schnittke, comprising settings of the 'Hail Mary', 'Jesus Prayer' and 'Lord's Prayer'.

This version, by the Sofiavokalensemble, comes from a beautiful, but echoing church.

Friday 23rd November - finished day

I finished at lunchtime today - I was supposed to be volunteering at a school helping out with ukuleles (tuning thirty new instruments takes a while - they go out of tune within minutes when they are new) but dropped out.

Friday is meant to be a free day, but I am using the mornings to catch up on some of the missed lessons (paid for in advance by the parents) from last week. The total is going down - six lessons will be reimbursed so I don't have to fit them in, and I did four today, so the outstanding number has gone from twenty-six to sixteen.

The lesson observation due yesterday didn't happen - something cropped up and my manager was unable to come. Can't say I am sorry! I was running out of voice by then, so the singy part of the lesson was definitely lacking in oomph.

However I did walk to work today, and with my back-pack - I wouldn't have been happy to do that on Monday or Tuesday, so that is a good sign.

Today's music; Siete canciones poplulares espagnol by Miguel de Falla. Specifically the fourth song, 'Jota', at 5' 11''. This link takes you to all six songs, in the original version for voice and piano. But it has been endlessly arranged for violin, cello, guitar...

The jota is a traditional song from Aragon in Spain


 
I did a bit of Googling of this part of Spain - it looks to be an amazing place.

https://www.spain.info/en/consultas/ciudades-y-pueblos/aragon.html

Now I am about to have a bath (in the afternoon? why not!) and a snooze before drumming, and a flying visit from the offspring, and an early-ish night. Probably after a board game maybe...

Thursday 22nd November - Furs day

It was cold this morning - the coldest it has been yet. I wondered if the trees would all have a furry coating of frost, but in the event I forgot to look.

I set off early on Thursdays; last week I had a horrible couple of minutes when the queue of fast moving traffic I was in suddenly jammed up behind a slow-moving cyclist creeping up the steepest part of the hill leading to the village. We all crashed down through several gears, and went from a brisk 40 mph to about six miles an hour. I didn't dare change down another gear in case I stalled, so did my best in second. A gear of minus one would have suited me better.

So today I was praying and praying that I had timed it to miss the cyclist... and Lo! the road was clear! Phew.

Then a tawny brown shape reared into flight from the roadside, veering right into the path of my car long before it was properly airborne. There was nothing I could do, apart from rather uselessly crying out 'No n  no no no'. Luckily the owl - it looked HUGE - managed to gain enough height to clear most of my windscreen, and slipstream did the rest. I could begin to become phobic about that particular road.

I only teach for two (very intense) hours, so was home for 'elevenses'. I had been eyeing a packet of  Heston Blumenthal 'mince pies with a lemon twist' with some suspicion, but He assured me that they were very good. I had one, and yes, well worth getting more of them. Not too sweet, and good proportions of pastry, strudel topping and mince meat. Mince Pies they are Not, though.

It has taken until now - lunchtime - for me to shed my coat and deem myself warm again. I don't know why I got so chilled - but there you are.

I'm blogging now, because if I leave it until this evening it won't get done.

It is St Cecelia's Day (patron saint of music, but you all knew that, didn't you?) Also Benjamin Britten's birthday and here is his 'Hymn to St Cecelia'


.

Wednesday 21st November - What-a-Mess day?

I am surrounded by so much disorganisation. I can't complain as it mostly mine. That's what happens when you take time off work for trivialities like illness; it's almost easier to dose yourself up with pills and potions and go into work - which is what I used to do in my younger days.

That's alright when you are still in your first half century, but the closer I get to the old 'three-score-and-ten', the less successful this strategy seems to be.

So now, the dining table looks like this again

a horrible tangle of the consequences of this week's work so far. A letter to be answered, the music for 'Happy Birthday' to be adjusted to reflect what the child concerned will actually play in his music test, various bits of music that have been used in various lessons, and endless folders to be updated and sorted to reflect the lessons taught so far this week.

Oh well, all in good time. Time. Ah yes, that commodity which has to be re-allocated in order to find space to make up the twenty-three lessons I should have taught last week and which need to happen before the end of term in order to meet various contracts and expectations.

Good job I'm super-human. (ha ha ha) 

I'm ignoring all of this in favour of preparing a perfect, energising, all-singing (literally) and dancing (figuratively) lesson for my line manager to be bowled over with tomorrow afternoon. Something along these lines? I'm planning to teach crotchets and quavers.

Meanwhile, here is today's music; very beautiful, but very sombre...

'When I am laid in earth' from 'Dido and Aeneas, composed by Henry Purcell. Famous as an example of a Ground Bass. It is very famous, deservedly so, for the genius of the melody, and of its construction. This version is sung by Emma Kirkby, one of my favourite singers of all time.

Tuesday 20th November - Tuesday News Day?

Well, no, not really a news day today.

I've taught 13 individual music lessons today, each lasting half an hour. That's pretty intense. And a lot of listening to music.

Himself went off to Brighton today, and found it cold and dreich, and stuck in that limbo before Christmas really gets going.

So, here we are, half past eight, watching Masterchef on television - maybe not watching - I'm blogging, and he is dozing.

Today's 'Year of Wonder'music is 'White Light Chorale', composed by Param Vir, born in 1952. That makes him just a few years older than me.

It is a short piano piece, and needs several replays, I think, to become familiar with it. Although it sounds initially as though it belongs in the 'plinky-plonky' category, it is growing on me.


I have just discovered a playlist of all the music in 'Year of Wonder' for November on youtube. But weirdly, not in the same order as the book.

Monday 19th November - It's Monday

Monday - Funday? No, but an OK day. A 'Back-to-work' day. I was mulling over how much I had enjoyed being at home Not Working , especially as although I wasn't well, I wasn't exactly ill. I whiled away a few minutes calculating the financial effects of giving up this, that or the other job. Hmm. Maybe not yet. (But soon?)

He gave me a lift to and from the local school in the afternoon, which saved me walking in cold and unsettled weather (he went shopping in between, so it fitted in quite well)

I didn't do quite a full day of teaching, as one poor little mite was unwell and couldn't come. That gave me some time to spend continuing the long-winded process of re-doing the hem of one of the jerseys I knitted; this will be the second time that I have gone through this. A lesson on patience and perseverance. But there's no point in leaving it how it was, if that meant I didn't want to wear it.

After I wrote the last post we stayed up to watch a Joan Hickson 'Miss Marple' last night; '4.50 from Paddington'. One of my favourites; and one of the later ones. There was a smidgeon of 1950s glamour here and there.



We also watched Dr Who - mainly based on Amazon shopping as far as I could make out. Never Pop Bubble Wrap. You have been warned.



There isn't much news - how can there be 'news' every day? I wouldn't life to be Too Exciting.

Today's music was the hottest stuff around in its day - John Evelyn wrote about the composer violinist in his diary.

'Ground after the Scotch Humour'  composed by Nicola Matteis


 

Sunday 18th November - O Sabbath rest...

I went to church this morning, to the early (trad) - I'm not sure that my tendency to go only when it is my turn to play the organ makes me a regular attender? It does mean I turn up at least once a month - twice in this case as I was standing (sitting?) in for someone else. How many other smallish Parish churches have five organists on the rota, and three of them can use their feet! (Not me - I find my left hand starts following my feet, or vice versa).

We also have several pianists as well for the second service - their music is delivered by The Band - an eclectic mix of piano, vocalists, guitars, drum kit, bass guitar, violin, flute and cello, depending whose turn it is to play. 

PS 'Trad' doesn't mean The Prayer Book. It means the latest red communion booklet. Not the same thing at all, dearly beloved, but that's okay by me.

        

Afterwards I came home to find Himself ready for a second cup of coffee after having completed various houseworkings (changing the filter on my oxygen machine, hoovering downstairs, laundry, making a loaf of bread ). Second cup of coffee was exactly what I wanted. I usually drink tea at church, having sampled church coffee enough times now to know which I prefer.

I have been placing washi tape around tealights, ready for Advent; enough for four Advent calendars. One for me, and three for friends. I have enough washi tape and tealights left to make some more - if you want one, let me know. The instructions for making your own are simple;

Stick tape around tealight. Repeat until you have 24. Try not to lose them before 1st December.

Here are some of the ones I made, waiting to be put somewhere sensible.

Finding a way of wrapping the set of tealights I want to post was a challenge. I found they would nearly fit inside the cardboard inner tube of wrapping paper, so I cut a lengthwise slit in the tube, and stacked the tea lights inside.

That was when I discovered the spare wrapping paper that I had rolled up and pushed inside the tube for safe-keeping, now turned into strips of wrapping paper where the scissors travelled up the length of the roll.... 

Not much use for wrapping presents, but I have used it to wrap the tube of tealights.

The music for today is... Musica Ricercarta no 7 in B flat major by Ligeti. Oddly mesmerizing, and rather enjoyable.

 

Saturday 17th November - Villa-Lobos

Apart from putting up the music for the day, and showing you the Christmas Cactus, there isn't much to post today.

Here's the cactus - I never know if it is going to be a Christmas cactus or an Easter cactus. I spotted these flowers, on the side of the plant nearest the window, this morning. He told me they it had been in flower for several days - how did I miss it?

I've moved them onto the kitchen windowsill so that I keep an eye on it.

I've done some more to the patterned scarf, finishing off the birds, adding a pattern, and a row of Christmas Trees.

And now for The Music. When I was at University I played this, with seven other cellists and someone called Jenny, I think, singing the Aria. (I was cello number 8, and that was quite tricky enough for me.)

It is Bachianas brasileiras, no 5, 1. Aria, by Villa-Lobos. 

(Another favourite of mine is 'The Little Train of the Caipera, the last movement of Bachianas Brasilieras no 2, here performed by the National Children's Orchestra of Great Britain - be amazed; the children have to be under 14 years old. If you look some of them are playing half-size instruments!) 

Friday 16th November - Last day of 'retirement'

Perotin; Beatus Viscera

Today is the last day of Autumn, judging by the weather forecast. The temperature is to drop and I am getting my thermals out ready. Hard to remember how mild the weather was at the beginning of the month. I'll planning to teach a normal Saturday morning tomorrow, and then back into school on Monday.

I'm not liking the current world news much; I'm glad that today's music (the one I listened to by accident a couple of days ago) comes from another time;

This was composed in around 1220 a French composer, Perotin.

Beata viscera Perotin (1160 - 1223)

I love the way the melody rises and falls, like a hawk hovering way overhead.

I think this album is going onto my Christmas List.



I've nearly finished knitting the birds on the scarf. Not sure if the scarf will complete for next week though. I've been looking for Christmas Tree patterns to knit into it when the yarn shades into green.

Thursday 15th November

I'm very disappointed with our government.

I think the cats have got the right idea about this Brexit business;

All the politicians and wunderkinds who promoted Brexit and said how wonderful it would be have all disappeared. Boris and Gove are the worst offenders. They and all the others appear to have taken very little part in working out the terms and conditions for arranging an orderly exit from the EU. All they seem to do is criticise everyone else's efforts without getting stuck in themselves.

'That's not good enough', they cry. 'Make it better'. How? Any suggestions? Answers come there none.

Enough.

Today's music is Mahler's 2nd symphony, 4th movement. Up till now I haven't ever listened to Mahler on purpose. I think of it as heavy, over-crowded, sturm-und-drang stuff. But this, this is ethereal, pellucid, restrained. I listened to several versions - this one gives the English translation of the words of the song. Also, it is played by the Simon Bolivar Orchestra of Venezuela, a world leader in Youth Orchestras, although it is no longer a Youth Orchestra as the players are older now!  (what is going to happen to them now with their new President?).  Anyway, I really enjoyed this performance, especially the lovely, lyrical violin solo which illustrates the broad leading to God.

Here are the words;
 

O Röschen rot!                            

 Der Mensch liegt in größter Not!

Der Mensch liegt in größter Pein!                       

Je lieber möcht ich im Himmel sein.               

 Da kam ich auf einen breiten Weg;

da kam ein Engelein und wollt' mich abweisen.

Ach nein! Ich ließ mich nicht abweisen!

Ich bin von Gott und will wieder zu Gott!

Der liebe Gott wird mir ein Lichten geben,

wird leuchten mir bis an das ewig selig Leben!

Oh Red Rose

Mankind stands in deep distress

Mankind suffers great sorrow

I would dearly love to be in heaven

I came upon a broad path

An angel appeared and tried to turn me aside

Ah no, I would not let myself be turned aside

I come from God and will return to God

My Beloved God will grant me a light

He shall light my way to the life of eternal blessedness

Let's not despair too soon?

The finale is worth a listen too, and it's only a couple of minutes long - a relief as the total length of the symphony is around 90 minutes. 

I'm still not going in to work, although I have been teaching a couple of pupils in the evenings. But I', steadily improving. The weird thing at the moment is that coffee doesn't taste right at all. To bitter. Tea is not much of an improvement. Water it has to be, then.

I'm getting quite a lot of knitting done today; I added a row of hearts to this scarf yesterday evening, and now I am halfway through these birds. I'm having to knit the picture upside down as I am nearing the other end of the scarf. So far I have done their heads and necks. That's those pink bits close to the needles

Wednesday 14th November - preview of retirement

Another day of not going to work, and I have cancelled tomorrow as well. Then Friday is my non-teaching day, and hopefully I will be functioning by Saturday. Meanwhile, I could get used to staying in bed until the afternoon, breakfast and lunch brought up on a tray...  the cat certainly approves.

Although I'd rather be going out, talking a stroll along the beach, having a meal in a sea-side cafe, enjoying the Autumn sunshine...  Oh well. That will have to wait until I'm properly retired.

I'm listening to some beautiful medieval singing as I tap in this blog - that's because I have turned over two pages in the 'Year of Wonder' music for every day of the year book. You'll have to wait.

Here's today's piece;

Fantasia in G minor, by Fanny Mendelssohn, for cello and piano

What else is there to say about today? Not much. I ate biscuits - the ones I made last Sunday. I drank coffee and water and I'm about to make a cup of tea. I had a bath. I started on my antibiotics, kept ready in the top drawer for when a chest infection threatened - so that's the end of boozing for a while.

I have found a couple of collections of P D James' short detective stories.



I have downloaded 'The Mistletoe Murder' ... I suspect I will succumb to temptation and get 'Sleep No More' . I am a soft touch for books with wood-cut style covers even if the contents inside might not live up to the pictures.

It is too, too easy when you have a kindle to just one-click away... But at least e-books don't add to the over-crowding on the shelves.

I came across them when searching for 'An English Murder' which I heard reviewed last night on the Radio 4 book programme (and that was only £1.49 and contains no sugar at all unlike the biscuits). Apparently Cyril Hare was a popular Murder Mystery writer in the 1930s and onwards.



I was amused to read in the wikipedia (lined above) that he read history at New College, Oxford, where he heard William Archibald Spooner say in a sermon that 'now we see through a dark glassly'.

Brilliant. That sums up these days of chaos perfectly.

Tuesday 13th November - A Good Night's Sleep

view from the bedroom window

Yes, a good night's sleep would have been nice.

Y'know, as in

"Sleep ... knits up the ravelled sleave of care,
 The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
 Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
 Chief nourisher in life's feast."

I should know that bit - it comes from Macbeth Act 2 Scene 2 - but I had to look it up. I learned the first line by heart, back in O-level days along with

"what are these so withered and so wild in their attire, that look not like th'inhabitants o'th'earth and yet are on't " - I lik'd that quote f'all the c'ntract'd w'rds."

Anyway sleep. That didn't happen last night - instead it was my turn to sneeze and snuffle and cough and splutter. So my "ravelled sleave of care" stayed unknit, and  at around 4 am I came to the conclusion that teaching ten piano lessons was not a 'go' for today's schedule.

So I stayed in bed all day, getting up to do just the four lessons at home. That was enough to convince me to rattle off an email to my manager, and the three schools I should be visiting tomorrow to let them know I won't be in. A stitch in time saves nine, and a day in bed will hopefully also save the rest of the week and next week too.

It's that time of year - hey ho. It's not that I'm actually ill - I'm just not well...

Today's music (I hope you listened to yesterday's - I found an even better youtube with Itzak Perlman and Pinchas Zukerman) is

Forgotten Memories, First Cycle; Sonata Reminiscenza in A minor, op 38, no 1 by Medtner

I've no idea what this will be like.

Now, here's a thing, going back to that first quote, I was hunting for a suitable picture for the blog (preferably creative commons) and I came across this blog post from someone I've never heard of, who has investigated the meaning of

ravelled - an old word which means the same as the modern word 'unravelled', oddly enough
sleave - not a mis-spelling of 'sleeve', but an older word for 'skein'

now you know.

Monday 12th November - flash bang wallop, what a downpour!

It was very odd, very sudden; this evening a student and I were in the middle of harmonising 'Away in a Manger' when there was a flash outside, as though someone had crept up to the patio doors (we hadn't closed the curtains) and taken a picture.

What was that? I was about to instigate intruder alert procedures (ie send Himself out to see off the burglars, guarded by the cats) when there was a roll of thunder and Rain Came Out Of The Sky. As in very wetly. Followed by hail? I don't know - I didn't go out.

I felt slightly sorry for the student when it was time to go home, but if he chooses to come to his lessons in shorts and a T-shirt and wearing flip flops, in November, then so be it. He only lives a score of houses away down the road. And his books at least were rainproof in the plastic wallet.

This afternoon I was teaching piano in a local school. I had to revise my timetable slightly, as one child was having extra 'memory and focus' practice.

   'How did it go?' I asked.
   'I dunno. Didn't understand any of it.'
   ' What did you have to do?
   'Can't remember. And I wrote on the wrong side of the paper.'

I guess she will be needing a few more sessions?

They had created a poppy field in an area of rough grass between the classrooms; the poppies were made from the bottom ends of fizzy drink bottles painted red and stuck to short green canes. They all have labels - but I don't know if the label refers to a relative who dies, or the child who made the poppy...

 

This morning seems a long time ago. I did teaching, and dusted the mantelpiece, and then hoovered downstairs. I put up with the dust and fluff-bunnies for just so long and then the mental energy that gets used up in irritation at everything that need doing becomes greater than the physical energy of getting out the vacuum cleaner and doing something about it.

Two thoughts

dusting ornaments is much easier using a clean, unused paint brush (the sort used for walls, not for watercolours)

leaving the hoovering until there is a substantial amount of crud to dump into the bin afterwards is very satisfying.   


Yesterday I was so desperate for biscuits that I made some. It had to be a recipe that didn't need skill or eggs.

here they are waiting to go into the oven

and fifteen minutes later, waiting to be eaten.

They are made with custard power as well as flour, and I pushed in some very dark chocolate buttons as well. HE doesn't like them, which is a pity as it means I may well end up eating all of them instead of only half.

I put 150g soft butter and 1/4 (English) cup of sugar and 7/8 cup of plain flour and 1/4 cup custard powder into the food processor and zapped it until combined. Then I tipped it into a bowl, mixed in the remains of a packet of dark chocolate drops and dolloped 24 heaps onto two lined baking trays. To flatten them, I protected my fingers with a scrap of baking paper - (I am a genius)

Twelve minutes in an oven pre-heated to 180C, and two minutes to firm up on the baking tray before lifting them off.  

I am listening today's music; Shostakovitch Prelude for two violins and piano - bet you wouldn't have expected it to sound like this; so sweet, so melancholy.

Sunday 11th November

Here's the music for today... called 'Brittany' by Ernest Farrer from this album;

I took this morning in bed. I decided not to go to the Centenary Armistice Day Memorial Service at church, as I'm not sure standing around would improve my cold. I did get up at about eleven, and we watched the apparently endless rows and columns of troops and groups and cohorts marching past the Cenotaph. 

I had bought a little enamel poppy this year, instead of a paper one. It turned out to be an old one that somehow was included in the tray of poppies, and is dated 2014. Still an appropriate date though.

The weather is alternately 'Let's go a for a walk' sunny and mild, and 'Let's get something done in the garden' quiet and still, and then, just as you make up your mind to go out, 'as you were' cold grey skies and rain. So we are sitting inside and enjoying the look of outside, rather than experiencing it for real. 

There are flowers on the rosemary bush, which is supposed to be a spring and summer flowering shrub. I'm not complaining. The more flowers the merrier. A rose bush was looking like 'June' last week, but the cold snap and rain changed its mind, and it is now a sad sight. 

I've had to chuck the seeds I was growing on the kitchen windowsill to eat as shoots. They have to be misted several times a day, especially in the earlier stages, and I think that the time I picked up the wrong bottle and sprayed them with dettol surface cleaner is probably one of the reasons they seemed disinclined to grow.

I finished the book club book a day or so ago, and thoroughly enjoyed it. ('The Keeper of Lost Things' by Ruth Hogan). It is definitely a 'read it again' novel. I wonder what the other book club members will think of it. It usually takes me a couple of days to reassemble sufficient brain cells after the week's teaching to think about reading, or any activity where concentration is required (eg complicated knitting, precise sewing etc). So my brain sort of 'times out' until around Saturday evening, or maybe even Sunday morning.  However this moring I was ready to read again, and downloaded 'A Presumption of Death' by Jill Paton Walsh, continuing the sequence of Lord Peter Wimsey stories. 



I know I have read  it before, but can't find the book - did I borrow it? Or have I got it as a talking book? It seemed right for the season, as it is set in the time WW2. Anyway, it is about the correct 'level of difficulty' for how I am feeling today - that is, head and nose bunged, and with a dreadful craving to 'feed a cold' - with cake, cereal, porridge, biscuits, toast, cheese straws, whatever. I am trying to fight off the cravings with cups of tea, but I am not sure how long I will be able to hold out. There is some truth (but not much) in the old adage 'feed a cold, starve a fever'; here's the Scientific American on the subject, but I'm trying to heed the warning 

'There's no need to overeat, however. The body is quick to turn recently digested food into energy, and it's also efficient at converting stored energy into fat.'

More tea? Why not.

Saturday 10th November - Random Thoughts

First - the music.

Antoine Forqueray (1672-1745): "La Couperin" for viola da gamba and basso continuo 

I enjoyed this for all sorts of reasons... the sound of the music, the beautiful room, the skill of the performers, the decisive way he attacked the notes on his viola da gamba, the apparent disengagement of the theorbo player...

However, when I double checked the 'Year of Wonder', I should have been listening to this version of 'La Couperin' composed by Francois Couperin, for harpsichord;

The score looks a beast to try and play from; those funny little symbols that look like stick-back chairs, one at the beginning of the top line, and the other half-way through the lower line, are called 'C-clefs' and move the positions of all the notes away from the normal bass and treble clef locations. 

I think I prefer the first version.

Second - I survived teaching piano this morning, mainly because two pupils were away (a karate competition, or something similar). That meant I only had five pupils, and also I had two long, long breaks to catch up with paperwork and do some long, long overdue piano practice.

Third - What an amazing way to spend an afternoon when one is feeling generally grim and grotty! After watching and listening to 'La Couperin', I watched stories of dogs and horses and Korean grandmothers and Swedish farmers and highland cattle on youtube... also a young OCD couple with a cleaning compulsion tackling a mansion in North Wales which hadn't been properly cleaned by its owner - who looked like a mad cat lady, but without all the cats - where was I, hadn't been cleaned, dusted, hoovered in 29 years. Made me feel much, much happier about our own household cleaning 'routine'.

It's now evening. Only 7pm but I doubt I'll still be up much after nine, and hopefully asleep soon after. Good night all...

Friday 9th November - And the wall came a-tumbling down...

The Berlin Wall started to come down in November 1989. Remember where you were then? I was in a hotel on a training course - can't remember where. We all stood around in the bar, watching the television n astonishment.

Mstislav Rostropovitch went there on the 9th November (the Wall, not my hotel) and played the Bach Sarabande in D minor from the cello suites Here's the whole suite, and here's an extract from the suite, filmed at the Wall on That Day.

I wonder if yesterday's drum lesson was lacking sparkle because I was slowly succumbing to an Autumn lurgy? I have cancelled this evening's drumming workshop because I am now feeling completely  stupidified. I was quite proud of myself for driving home without any mishap.

Oh, but the trees are glorious now. The benefit of driving to this school is going along lanes with beech trees, all now a wonderful bronze brown. There is a occasional blaze of bright red maple or a flame-yellow tree - would that be a birch? But the leaves are often quite big. It was gusty and rainy this morning, and the leaves were tumbling along our road as though pursed. It always reminds me of the record cover from the recording of Peer Gynt when I was a child;
 



I remember how the violence of the storm came out of the picture.

I have been practising standing on one leg while I brush my teeth. Standing on one leg is supposed to be good for strengthening your 'core'. When I was younger we didn't have 'cores'. I change over from one leg to the other when the toothbrush beeps, every 30 seconds, which is just about when I am beginning to lose my balance. It is quite complex, to consider balancing, moving the toothbrush along your teeth, and trying not to dribble toothpaste all at one time.

From the BBC 'Trust Me I'm A Doctor site;

You get a sense of just how good your sense of balance really is by attempting to balance on one foot with your eyes closed: Bend one knee and lift the foot — if you’re right-handed, stand on your left leg and lift the right foot; you don’t need to lift it high – about 6 inches off the floor.

Do this with a hand very near something ready to steady yourself in case you fall!

The chart below shows how long you should be able to keep this up for, without falling over or having to put your foot down 

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/articles/2BKKFygWQXwRHQRb3v0czGy/how-can-i-improve-my-balance-and-core-strength

I thought this chart was lacking in challenge at first sight, then I noticed the words I have highlighted...with your eyes closed... I suspect that will make all the difference.

I shan't try it until I have stopped feeling stupified by this cold.

Oh well, I did give it a go just now. HE looked at me as though I was mad. It is unexpectedly tricky to begin with. Neither of us managed even 4 seconds to begin with!