Annual Ramblings

Greetings, All!

What a bloody year!  We’ve made it thus far in no worse health than usual, thank goodness, but continue to be very careful: no visiting, no visitors, no eating out, as few trips to the shops as we can get away with, and of course masks whenever we’re in close proximity to others outdoors as well as in. 

Fortunately, my sister-in-law Margaret was able to have her grandchildren nearby during her last days: she died at home in early July, 15 months from diagnosis (I gather that the typical prognosis is 12-18 months with the kind of brain tumour she had).  Her funeral was a thinly attended affair, not for lack of people wanting to go, of course: she had hordes of friends and lots of family.  She was able to spend her last days at home.  We have good memories of her kindness, good sense and creativity, and tangible reminders of her talents in the form of two superb quilts.

Before the courts were largely closed down by the pandemic, I decided that court attendance was an infection risk that I could and should avoid, so I retired from the hobby a few months early.  I’m bound to say I don’t miss it.  Years of austerity had taken their toll in many ways, and my last few dozen sittings had become more and more frustrating.  I’d hoped to have a final sitting in my preferred courthouse with my choice of wingers and clerk, but my last sitting turned out to be at the Crown Court.  The judge we were listed to sit with phoned in sick on the day, and another judge kindly agreed to take one of our cases after we’d sat waiting for a couple of hours.  The appellant failed to attend, so it was over and done with in twenty minutes, and I was back home by lunchtime.  My second career went out with the merest whimper.

The art group stopped meeting early on in the pandemic, as did my German conversation group, though the latter has started to meet again on Zoom, and the two sessions I’ve so far managed to join were pretty good. 

As for the world of politics, things seemed at the time of writing to be taking a turn for the better, at least in the Untied [sic: Ed] States of America.  Here at home, HMG is singularly failing to cover itself in glory, but rather in … something else.  The PM’s failure to sack his guru following the latter’s flagrant breach of lockdown only underlines the former’s weakness: he’ll be out before this parliament reaches half-time.  At least Labour has chosen a competent and credible leader at long last.  As for the Lib Dems, I couldn’t pick their leader out of an ID parade.

Garden

It has been a good year in the garden, partly, of course, because we’ve been at home to look after it.  We had a good crop of charlotte potatoes in the early summer, and were cropping runner and dwarf French beans well into November.  We again grew Sweet Olive tomatoes, and as I write the last of them are ripening in a tray on the sitooterie window ledge.  Though we got exactly six seeds in the packet, they all germinated, and by rooting the side shoots we finished up with a couple of dozen highly productive plants, a few of which we gave away.  The penstemons we grew from seed last year gave us an excellent display in the spring, but are less keen to stay in flower than the older varieties, some of which are cuttings taken from my mother’s decades ago.  That said, the latter have done less well this year, so maybe it just hasn't been a good year for them.  Quite a lot of subjects suffered from the heat and drought of the summer, so maybe that's it.

In summer 2019 we bought a packet of cosmos seed in a hypermarket in Avignon, and sowed them this spring.  They have grown well but flowered sparingly.  The summer’s drought didn’t help, but perversely enough, they have begun flowering rather better just as we await the first hard frosts.  Much of the planting done by the landscapers in 2018 turns out to have been pretty dismal.  The viburnum, granted, flowered beautifully this spring, but the roses are poor specimens.  We have dug up one, A Shropshire Lad, and stuck it in a container with a view to replanting it elsewhere in the spring.  We replaced it – in Margaret’s memory - with a Compassion, which we know to be a vigorous plant that flowers well. 

We finally decided to have most of the leylandii cut down.  The cold frame and my birthday present mini-greenhouse now get much more light, and the removal of the hedge from the back of the garden gives us a little more light and a lot more space.  We have big plans, but shall report on that next year, if we’re spared.

Arrivals

Our hospitality this year has been limited to tea and biscuits for sundry tradesmen, and some sharing of baking with neighbours.  And the occasional brief visits from friends to exchange seedlings and cuttings (Pat), and to trade a bag of tomatoes for a pot of damson jam (Jane).

Departures

Few.  We did another cruise last December to Madeira, the Canaries and Lisbon, this time on the Queen Victoria.  We spent our first night on board alongside in Southampton: the weather was too bad for us to sail as scheduled.)   The good thing was that we sailed round the IoW in daylight rather than after sunset, and our arrival in Madeira was also in daylight, with good views of Porto Santo as we approached.

The poor weather did us out of our day in La Palma, but instead we got to spend a night in Funchal, where the Christmas lights were superb.  Santa Cruz de Tenerife, like Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, may keep itself, though the Calatrava auditorium is pretty impressive (from the outside, at least). We called at Lanzarote, a first visit for me.  We liked it once we were away from the 'Lanzagrotty' tourist developments.  Lisbon, of course, was a delight as always.  We eventually found the bus up to the castle for familiar views (this time not spoiled by thundery showers), had lunch in the Pastéis de Belém café, and dropped in at the Ribeira market for a glass of wine and some people watching before heading back to the ship.  I don’t know how reliable the weather is in Lisbon in December, but it was certainly sunny and warm the day we were there.

Our travel plans this year included a fjords cruise in the spring up as far as Bodø, north of the Arctic Circle.  That was the first to be cancelled.  In early autumn, we were to have joined friends Janet and John from Wakefield for a Mediterranean and Adriatic cruise to celebrate their golden wedding anniversary.  That too was cancelled, of course, fortunately just before we were due to pay the final balance.  We were all disappointed but rather relieved: a cruise ship is no place to be during a pandemic.   

We’ve booked a shorter fjords cruise for next summer, by which time we might be out of the woods (though I rather doubt it).  Meanwhile, Cunard is sitting on fair old wedge of our cash. But when enhanced future cruise credit is taken into account, the money is probably better there than in the bank (provided the company doesn’t go tits-up in the meantime).  We have to say that we're less wild about cruising now.  It looks as if solo exploring in ports of call won't be allowed, and masks will have to be worn on board in enclosed spaces.  The fjords cruise might be bearable, since that's about the scenery one sees from on board.  But the rest of the package seems fatally compromised.

We've had to content ourselves with occasional days out when non-essential travel has been allowed, usually taking sandwiches with us.  Old favourites like Birling Gap and Dungeness, and one or two less familiar, like lovely Gravesend, whence we peered across at the idle cruise ships at Tilbury.  For our wedding anniversary we took a local heritage steam train ride, booking a compartment to ourselves so as to avoid Other People.  Exercise has largely been confined to a stroll down to see the doctor, or to collect prescriptions in the village High Street.

Wheels

Few excitements since last year.  The Opel Mokka we rented in Lanzarote was competent, if uninspiring: quite lively and responsive, with a petrol engine and a 6-speed automatic box, but hopeless rear visibility and a tendency to roll.  We still have our two SEATs, neither of which is putting on much mileage.  It’s a moot point whether we need two cars now that I’ve retired (again), and we’re toying with chopping the pair of them in for something electric.  Range is not an issue: we’re no longer likely to do long distances by road, and in any case, most electric cars now do comfortably over 200 miles on a single charge. 

Food and drink

Not only have we not eaten out this year; we haven’t entertained either.  No sooner had we found a decent butcher in the town than he took ill and retired.  There are a couple of good sources of meat on the edges of town (where it’s easier to park), so we are not reliant on mediocre supermarket offerings.  When we’re allowed out of the county, that is: the most convenient butcher, though close to home, is in the next county, in a district, ironically, that has a far worse infection rate than ours.  We get quite good steaks and charcuterie from Lidl (also now out of bounds) but are less impressed by most of their raw meat. 

Arts

Our last concert visit was right at the end of last year, when we went to a Fascinating Aïda performance at the Queen Elizabeth Hall.  Fantastic performance, but I hadn’t realised before how terrible the acoustic is in there!  We’d planned to go to a Festival Hall concert later in the winter, but one or other of us was unwell on the day, so we have some credit balance to draw on there too!  

Yshani, whom we had the great pleasure of hosting twice in Lagrasse, has been busy this year, despite the closure of concert venues.  She had three Radio 3 midnight slots, introducing an interesting collection of lesser known works she'd found, linking them in a sort of stream of consciousness style.  More recently, she has given a recital at the Bishopsgate Institute, broadcast on Facebook Live.  Kate's plans to launch her new play about the Pilgrim Fathers have of course  been stymied by the closure of theatres, but premièred on Zoom: unfortunately we couldn’t persuade the machinery to let us join.

After a busy production line of water colours, Martyn hasn’t painted much lately, devoting his energies instead to railway modelling: his latest creation, Grenztobel, is made of very light materials, and sits on the desk in his study.  My study is a disaster area: it is full of paintings and prints, along with all the household files, freebie stamp albums and goodness knows what else.  

I’ve been unproductive by and large, but have had some more fun with Brusho crystals, and built up a modest stock of greetings cards.  It's great fun as a medium, and quite versatile: you can make up a wash with it, or wet the paper and sprinkle on the powder, or scatter it on dry paper and get in there with a brush and/or a spray bottle.  My latest experiment has been with masking fluid over a background wash followed by scatter and spray and a bit of brushwork.  Those on whom we inflict Christmas cards will see what I mean.  (Fear not: said card features a proper painting by Martyn either on the front or back.)

2021

 

Let's hope it treats us all better than 2020.  Look after yourselves and each other.

 

Martyn and David