Flat as a pancake

When The Cat's Mother got a new car last year, the old one was donated to the two teenagers who generally were very good at sharing it.  They were just as good at getting dents and bumps and flat tyres too. But it was very useful to give them their freedom, and give us a rest from taxiing people around..  Now, however, The Boy is up a mountain, and The Cat is down in Exeter.  The car sits forlornly in the drive.  We did vow to drive it once a week just to keep it charged and running, but the habit was soon broken, so when we do get round to trying to drive it, it won't start.  It needs jump-starting every time.  This time, the battery was so flat, I couldn't get into the boot (electronic lock) to get out the jump leads, so I had to use a broken pair in the garage, and avoid electrocuting myself at the same time...It would go, but we know it will be 'needed' in the summer months...

In the absence of The Boy, who is the only person in our household who can mix a decent batter, pour it into a frying pan, and flip it, The Cats Mother and I had to resort to buying ready made pancakes from Waitrose. As we're out tonight, we decided to invent Shrove Monday.  Delicious.

Thank you Mr Putin

It's been a busy weekend.  Although not on Saturday, when the only two things that occupied me were staying bed for as long as possible and a trip to Sainsbury's to get supper.

Of course, the weekend starts on a Thursday these days, so Thursday evening we went to the cinema to see The Book Thief.  Neither of us realised it had only just opened, but that would explain why we hadn't read any reviews.  It was probably a good thing we hadn't.  The reviews range from awful to very awful.  Not that it mattered to us...we both rather liked it.  We hadn't read the book either so had no expectations on that level either.  Anyway, it is (roughly) about a girl adopted by a Bavarian family.  Her brother was also supposed to have been adopted but he dies before they arrive.  The mother is gruff, the father a sweetie. They hide a young jewish lad in their cellar...and no more before it all becomes a spoiler.  For us, the beautiful setting (there's no getting away from the fact that Bavaria is a beautiful part of the world) made the tragedy of war, and the Jews in particular all the greater....the parts were generally well played all round, and there's nothing wrong with some obvious emotional string pulling is there?  If you want to see a weepy, this is the one.

Friday night and we headed off to see A Taste of Honey by Shelagh Delaney which is on at the National at the moment.  At the time this was a quite shocking play, particularly as it was written by a nineteen year-old. Many of the issues that it deals with - unplanned pregnancy, mixed race-relationships, homosexuality, bad parenting and impoverishment, are commonplace in the media now...but it wasn't hard to imagine the impact fifty years ago....to such an extent that if you closed your eyes during the performance, it was easy to imagine the whole thing in black and white.  Apart from some overacting in some places, and one or two odd directorial issues, the whole thing was superb.  It's unusual for me not to fall asleep in the first half of a play these days when the performance has been preceded by a glass or two of red wine, but I stayed awake, alert and totally engrossed.  The play makes the point that despite the awfulness of some people's lives, life just goes on and on and on in an endless cycle which just repeats itself time after time...and it made it very well indeed.  In itself it's a perfect period piece, and does make you reflect on modern day issues...

In a much more elegant way, we had a great evening at the Sam Wannamaker theatre...an evening of Mozart and storytelling.  Not much to say other than it was a gorgeous candle-lit evening, and it's always a joy to hear Mozart played on original instruments, especially when there's some good commentary to go with it.

So, back to my header.

This is the passport photo that made the border guards smile when we went to Moscow a couple of years ago...there is a passing resemblance to Mr Putin, pre-plastic surgery (his not mine).  One of subjects I studied at Uni was Soviet politics, and I was always quite resentful of the fact that the USSR collapsed not long after I finished my studies...it seemed three years of my life had been wasted.  But what has been clear over the last several years is that Vladimir is on Old Soviet Leader, and he would like to return to the good old days.  I remember well that when we were in Moscow, there was a tremendous feeling amongst the Muscovites we met that it was better in Soviet times, so it's no wonder that the leadership is heading in that direction.  It isn't surprising in anyway that Russian troops are all over Crimea, and I wouldn't be surprised if they headed into East Ukraine as well...there will be blood.  But Russia has always had a high level of paranoia about The West and the countries surrounding it, and to see the heart of the nation (in may ways Ukraine is more Russia than Russia) turn to the EU, was never going to be something that was allowed. We're not quite in Budapest 1956, but we're not far off...and at best if there is a Ukraine that leans to The West, it will be half the size of Ukraine as it's drawn on the map at the moment.  So I'm glued to all the commentary, absolutely fascinated by what's going on and to see whether my opinions, analysis and predictions are in anyway accurate.  But don't think I don't recognise that this is a tragedy in the making, and there will; be an enormous sadness for any lives lost....

Oh I forgot...

...I knew there was a good reason for writing everything down....if I don't I forget them.

So last week we went to see the sexiest cartoon ever created.  She's not bad, she's just drawn that way...what a riot!!  The Muffins came too...

Nothing doing

According to my diary, we haven't done anything this week.  That's unfortunate.  Not that we haven't done anything, but that my diary is misleading...we've done plenty.

What I can remember is that last night we went to see The Book Thief...another good little film (whatever the reviews might say) that we enjoyed, even though there were some terrible clunkers in it...evidently it was the Americans who occupied Germany at the end of WW2, and when one boy dies, he throws his head back in the finest amateur tradition.  Apart from that...not bad at all.

Wednesday, The Cat's Mother braved the floods and headed down to Exeter for the day...a dress for a friends wedding was purchased, and she returned home safely.  The Cat is buckling down to hard work I'm told.  Surely there's some wool pulling over eyes?  Does any student work hard?

I had to arrange for The Boy's guitar to be taken to him by someone who was heading out to Kitzbuhel. Have a had a word of thanks.  Fat chance.

Ah yes, and this year we're getting a new kitchen...and a whole new room to put it in....I feel the stress already.

I've become an artist.  Well not really.  I've taken the work of two artists and combined them.  One is delighted, the other is OK with it.  Last year I get a small sculpture by a street artist called Issac Cordal.  It was a little man with briefcase looking wistfully at a landscape painting...the idea of the piece was the concept of loss.  We decided to replace the picture with the painting we had commissioned from Jon Everitt.  Anyway, it looks fabulous to us...and works alongside Jon's other pieces

Bob, bob, bobbing along

So farewell then to the last of the singing Von Trapps.  I'm actually quite sad about that.  The Sound of Music is one of the things that brings back very happy childhood memories, and I'd say I watch it at least once a year even now.  For Christmas this year, we had bought a Sing Along version, and we had a brilliant time joining in...even though the Lonely Goatherd is a little trickier to get you vocal chords around than you might expect.  Of course, there were all sorts of liberties taken to turn the real story into the musical, but that's showbiz.



Also farewell to the winter Olympics..they may not command quite the interest that the summer Olympics do, but they were brilliant to watch.  And didn't we do well? Especially considering our lack of snow-sports heritage.  One of my friends from the 2012 Olympics was a choreographer for the Opening and Closing ceremonies which added a special poignancy to the whole thing.  Now if only that Mr Putin could sort himself out and stop wanting to harass and harangue anyone who doesn't conform to his view of sexuality.  Anyway, it was nice to see his mistress in the opening ceremony.

So Sochi has gone, but thanks to a very, very dear friend, in two weeks time this will be me:

Yes, a flying visit to Iglis in Austria will see him and me in the four man bobsleigh piloted by a couple of guys from the Team GB Sochi bobsleigh team.  I know I will never have been so terrified in my life, but what an opportunity!

End of the week

It's been a long old week this one.

All a bit stressful.

Which is bad for me and worse for The Cat's Mother. I've become a rotten sleeper as I've got older, and never was particularly good.  Grandma in Cyprus will happily recount tales of my childhood nightmares...and even now I can wake up in the middle of the night sweat dripping from me after a particularly tortuous dream.Wednesday night saw me downstairs at 4.00 am drinking tea whilst trying to settle my nerves.  This morning I woke up thinking I'd had a terrific deep sleep, but vaguely remembered The Cat's Mother hadn't, I also remembered her throwing my arm away from her at some stage.  Still I knew she'd been a little bit tense before we went to sleep, so assumed it all tied together.

Ah no. It wasn't quite like that evidently.  At some stage she says I'd screamed out in pain because of cramp, and then spent the rest of the night tossing, turning, shouting and mumbling.  Of that I have no memory whatsoever.  But it does explain why I'm falling asleep at my desk today.  I'm hoping she may be a bit more friendly, in the form of a Ukrainian truce when I get home this evening.

Aide memoir

I'd forgotten just how much I loathe working with New Yorkers.  It's been a few years since I've had to, it was an unpleasant experience then, and a bunch that I've been working with makes me remember just how insecure and back stabbing they can be.  Anyway, I managed to get a fabulous article published for them and the glory lasted for at least five minutes before they started demanding I contact the magazine and get the article changed.  When I explained my hesitancy they demanded I set up a conference call where they would ride in like the US cavalry and put things right.  Nightmare.  Complete nightmare.  I put my foot down, and didn't let them, but did manage to get the piece changed.  They'll never get coverage in the magazine again, I'll spend months rebuilding my relationship there and grrrrrrrrrr.  Thank heavens I don't have to devote too much of my time to them.

That little fracas caused us to delay a trip to Brighton, but we got there in the end and were pleased to see there wasn't too much devastation.  Our place there is an old regency flat which meant that it was almost impossible to warm up as the wind was blowing through the gaps in the window frames and under the door to such an extent the central heating struggled.  That's the trouble with a listed building...the option of installing heat saving windows and doors is just not there.

We headed off to see an NTLive broadcast of Coriolanus, which I thought was an interesting counterpoint to Ralph Fiennes film.  The Odeon in Brighton is an interesting experience...it reflects the faded glory that is Brighton itself.  Entry was by emergency exit because the main doors were locked.  The booking office was closed.  The person working in the Costa Coffee was also running the Ben and Jerrys.  We followed people into the screen at five to seven for a performance due to start at 7.00, only to be chased by the usher who proclaimed that if the cinema wasn't ready we'd have to leave.  There were all of half a dozen of us to start with, and a dozen by the time the whole thing got going.  Once, they'd finished photocopying, the ushers came round climbing through the rows of seats saying "You don't want one of these programmes do you?".  Yes we did.  Anyway, thank heavens the performance was fabulous.

Sunday afternoon was spent at King Lear at the National with Simon Russell Beale.  It's had marvelous reviews, but I was less than impressed.  It isn't a Shakespeare that I've seen before, and the first half was a staggering two hours long.  Anyway, there was a lot of shouting, lots of blood and death and I didn't nod off much.  Perhaps the sight of a once proud man descend into senility was a little too close to home for comfort.

Just a word of warning, I've signed up for another night ride...London to Brighton.  This time for charity, so at some stage I might well post a link to my justgiving page....

August: Osage County

When I was a lad I was known as a bit of a gadget boy...in truth my quest for the best sounding music on whatever I was listening to did mean I spent an undue amount of time and money on bits of kit.  The need for kit is something that The Boy is replicating...I hope he learns quicker than me, that it's not the kit that makes for a rewarding experience.  However, sometimes it does make a worthwhile difference.  With the advent of iPod players, mobile phones, it's been easy to carry around vast quantities of music.  In theory that's a good. But I've found that the impact has been to lessen my interest.  Too often, train or tube journeys that should have been filled with my favourite tunes are occupied by the sound purely of the rattling carriage.   But a couple of weeks ago, I bought a gadget that has transformed things.:

This is a digital-analogue converter and headphone amplifier...about the same size as a mobile phone.  When I plug it in, the music is transformed. I hear instruments that I've never heard before, the music has a clarity that is mind-blowing, the positioning of instruments is phenomenal.  Headphones that I thought were poor are suddenly reproducing music with an excellence and musicality that is a revelation.  I have rediscovered music that has long since been forgotten.  Once again I am genuinely excited about listening to music.  Yes, I am genuinely excited.

This weekend we headed to Exeter...perhaps a little rashly given the flood waters that are rising across the south and west.  As it was a long journey we decided to let the train take the strain rather than forage on with the Jeep.  Foolish mistake.  As we headed further west, we could see more and more flood water.  In many places it was impossible to know where rivers ended and 'land' started...boats appeared to be moored in the middle of lakes.  Horses, cattle and sheep were in places wading knee deep in floodwaters, telegraph poles and electricity pylons rose out of great seas of browny sludgy waters.

Eventually we ground to a halt outside Yeovil.To their credit, Network Rail organised coaches within an hour or so and we were able to reach Exeter in time to see The Cat in August: Osage County.

This is a very powerful and troubling play about a dysfunctional family...and a broader comment on the state of American society.  It is a play that in the wrong hands would be tedious and expose all the flaws of any amateur drama group.  But, and given the standing ovation, I'm not biased when I say it was truly outstanding.  Superb, heartfelt and pacey performances complemented by a fabulous set kept us on the edge of our seats throughout.  No wonder there were oohs and aaahs as each new piece of dysfunctionality was revealed...the characters were completely believable.  I was indeed very, very proud indeed of The Cat and totally in awe of her fellow cast members...I am sure that some if not all have very successful futures ahead of them on the stage if that is the route they decide to follow.  I'm sorry you can't go to see it as the short run has finished, but I gather there is a pale imitation doing the rounds of the cinemas as a plan B.

Awesome...automatically

It's catch up time again...yes, we've been away for a few days so I'll have to set aside some time to plough through my favourite reads...

We were back in Austria, just checking that The Boy was eating his greens and washing his underpants.  We suspect he was doing neither, but seems very happy indeed.  He took two of us out on the slopes mixing some guiding with some skiing instruction...and I have to say on both counts he was very good indeed.  We introduced our two friends to the delights of the Hotel Erica where we have affectionate names for most of the staff.  In charge is Frau Frau, her husband is Herr Frau Frau, their daughter who will soon be taking over is Mini Frau and her husband Herr Mini Frau.  Imaginative aren't we?  The lady who cooks the eggs in the morning is Frau Fried Egg.  May be we should have a re-think.

This was the view across the slopes...the falling snow has been added by Google 'because they can'.  At some stage they'll probably make another one of their videos as they did with our last trip...it's a thing called 'Auto-awesome'.

Another technology company that's been messing around is Facebook.  In our absence, Facebook seems to have marking its tenth anniversary, and they celebrated by creating a film of highlights from all our posts. What it proves is that over the last decade my life has revolved entirely around The Boy...that is the sum total of it.  With one exception...it features a picture of Auntie Gwen, but not one of The Cat's Mother.  I feel I may be in trouble for that one.

Happy birthday Mr Cole

Possibly the only jar of Marmite ever to go to a Lloyd Cole gig. The Marmite is for The Boy.The Marmite was a last minute purchase on the way to the concert. Smuggled in I expect it enjoyed it every bit as much as we did. The musicians around Lloyd Cole are The Leopards. As it happens it was his birthday...he's exactly 6 months older than me.

Film 2014

We've managed to see four films this year already...it's that season when the best films are being shown, so we tend to be cinema heavy in January and February.  And so far it's a 100% track record for good experiences.



Ok, this is not a GREAT film, but it's fun, watchable and entertaining.  I don't normally enjoy Ben Stiller films, but here he's quite restrained and we walked out with smiles on our faces.  If only every film was as feel-good as this



Somewhat more grown up, quite heavy going, but ultimately totally rewarding because the performances are outstanding.  We had a lot to talk about once the curtains had gone down which was a good reflection of how much we had become engrossed in it



This is one film that I was over-excited about from the moment I saw the first trailer a year or so ago.  It didn't disappoint.  Leonardo DiCaprio is totally outstanding, and the supporting ensemble do their thing brilliantly.  A three hour film and I don't look at my watch once...it was an absolute hoot that careers along, only going to prove the devil does get the best lines.



Another one that I've been madly excited about.  There may have just been just 4 people in the cinema including us when the film started, but by the end of the first song, there were another thirteen....most of them rustling their sweet packets and chomping away...irritatingly.  Ultimately that didn't detract from what is probably the best of the films we've seen so far.  Funny (hilarious) in parts, sad in others and very thoughtful and reflective throughout.  Excellent performance all round.  My advice is to get down to the cinema quick with this one.  Pay very, very close attention to the first couple of scenes.  And from the outset, ask yourself, "What does the cat represent?"  We need to see this again, so probably a blu-ray purchase in the autumn.

Father and son

This weekend I learnt that Rabbie Burns was a tax collector.  I'm no sure what it says about a country that worships and celebrates a tax collector.  There is an inner glee knowing this fact.

I keep getting messages from The Boy headed "Wagwan".  It's been a mystery to me, so I headed to the Urban Dictionary,

"Greeting in the Patois dialect of Jamaica, rather than a "bastardization" of "What's going on" though it is the equivalent. Originally evolved out of the dialect formed by African slaves being taught to speak english by the British in Jamaica during the peak of sugar plantations. Used in a greeting as, "Hey mon, wagwan".

So now I know.

There was a piece recently that said childless couples are happier that parents.  I wonder where this sort of nonsense comes from?  Is it from people who don't have children themselves and feel the need to justify their position?  I've seen other meaningless reports too about parents being happier than couples with no offspring. These statements are all pretty spurious, as are all sweeping generalisations.  We all find happiness in different ways.  In my case, I always said I never wanted children but then The Boy came along...and it has been the most rewarding experience I can imagine.  The news story struck a chord at the moment, because The Boy is away...and as far as I can tell, he is having the most amazing and wonderful time.  He is extremely happy. Probably the happiest he has ever been. And his happiness has infected me...there's a tingle in my bones that I don't feel often, but it feels very, very good indeed.

He was able to ski with one of his heroes this week.

The man is so famous in skiing circles, he has his own bubble car named after him

We're off to see The Boy again this weekend...I can't wait!

P.S. I discovered you can't legally send alcohol abroad...so Hippo, I'm sorry I can't fulfill my promise :-(

Competition time

One of these is The Boy.  A bottle of Austrian schnapps for the first person who can identify which one (click to enlarge). Hippo, please don't try and guess...shipping costs to Angola are horrendous!

She's at it again..

Food wise, there's a good chance that the kids having left home may yet kill me.  We're struggling to get catering for two right, so end up buying enough food to feed the 5,000.  The consequence of this was last weekend buying a lovely piece of beef, which even after cooking, we still made three-quarters of left.  I finally consumed the last chunk on Saturday at about lunchtime.  By Saturday evening, I was  consigned to the small room making various vulgar noises loud enough to keep the neighbours awake...

Down in the deep south-west, The Cat will soon be performing in a play at the University.  She sent us a trailer