No Terror

I would very much like to have watched BBC’s programme on Robespierre and The Terror, but I was in the middle of A Place of Greater Safety by Hilary Mantel, and wanted to wait until I finished it.  Sadly, the BBC only gives you a week to see its watch-again facility, then whisks its programmes away.  I shall have to wait for the (inevitable) repeat.  Magnificent book, but then I am a fan of ‘ilary.

(courtesy Princeton)

More ginger trouble

He’s never where you think he is.

Every home should have one

I have to love him – he’s mine.

Post Toast

The grill leaves a nice warm spot in the morning after breakfast.

Won’t somebody think of the children!

Troll Room by Sam Evans, inspired by Maurice Sendak

When you read how today’s parents think Where the Wild Things Are may be too frightening for children, and that the word ‘warm’ needs to be substituted for ‘hot’ in case they burn their over-protected litigiously guarded mouths, it makes you grateful that your own kids were brought up in an era when bowdlerising was briefly out of fashion and four year olds could be let loose in the library without a safety helmet, blinkers and a set of guidelines and no-one needed a risk assessment before they left the house.  I read a lot of books to my children when they were young, and they loved this book above all others  -  they can still quotes chunks of it today.  I bought a copy for a friend’s child last year;  I expect the lawsuit any day.

Surveillance

It’s impossible to use the computer without being watched.

Life and Death

I’ve been scanning photo albums all week, for posterity.  This one, which I got to today, seemed particularly appropriate.  The tiny baby in the photo is my daughter, who just graduated with a BSc first class honours  in midwifery, and got her first job yesterday.  My niece, 29 now and a Big Cheese in television, shares her new cousin with Uncle Albert, whose career path was a little different.  They don’t give degrees in execution, but Albert was considered the best hangman in his field.  He would have been so proud of both of them.

The Giants

Second hand paperbacks in charity shops seem to have been upgraded of late.  No more Maeve Binchy, Catherine Cookson or ubuquitous Grisham; instead you’ll find Tennyson and even Joe Orton prominently displayed amongst the ‘Classics’ and there’s always a bit of Updike and even a spot of Roth.  This weekend we did our regular bit for Cats Prevention and I brought home these:

I’ve attempted Thomas Keneally years ago but couldn’t get far, so time to give it another go.  The Mankell I’m not sure about – I almost felt bad about buying it.  I read a post on this language log which made me instantly unable to remember his name properly, and I’m not sure he isn’t a Scandinavian Colin Dexter, not that that’s all bad.  I bought A Clockwork Orange to send to my elder son, because I think he will like it.  I did offer it to Evans Minor, but he said he had seen the film and didn’t like it one bit.  I thumbed through it but don’t feel brave enough – I used to be much tougher, but I’m younger than that now.

Ackered

At the weekend I went to my parents’ house to pick up the family photo albums for scanning and preserving.  The first one actually fell open at a photo which Topsyturvydom brought to mind, with his visit to see Acker Bilk at the Bridgewater Hall on Friday.   My dad is a musician and big Bilk fan, and has played trad jazz with his own band for many years,  and he laughed out loud when he remembered forcing me to enter a fancy dress competition got up as Acker.   That I subsequently won only makes it more disturbing.

So in memory of my dear late sister (who came second dressed as a gypsy),  for my dad who laughed so hard, and for Rob to check for authenticity, here are my sister and I, before we developed oppositional defiance and refused to enter anything ever again.

Infinite Fest

I thought Anthony Burgess was the most challenging author for testing your vocabulary, but David Foster Wallace has him beat, and is currently, as the vernacular would have it, doing my head in.   Be honest with yourself,  can you define these terms without a spot of Googling?

• Lallation
• Soricine
• Luculent
• Self-urtication
• Tarpon

And maybe some Latin?

• pons asinorum
• ab initio ad mala
• Viva cancrosum

The above are from Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, which certainly offers some insight into David Foster Wallace’s state of brilliant mind, alev hasholom.