dovegreyreader scribbles

An African Christmas

Firstly a big thank you because I know many of you have been supporting the Kayaker (aka son,Tommy Hatwell) via Instagram and Facebook with his endeavours to keep the village in Uganda and his friends in Acholi Quarter in Kampala supplied with essential food during recent months. It wasn’t the year Tommy had planned, not in the slightest, but the Ugandans weren't expecting it either, yet it’s the year we've all been given and we've stayed with the positive and the optimistic here. That’s not hard when you see how difficult life has been for people who had so little to start with and it’s been a huge inspiration and perspective shifter for us to be in touch with the lives of the happiest of people in Africa who always make Tommy so welcome. And now we're supporting him supporting them as he develops his Think People Think Story project ....follow that link for more information.

And this link for information about the projects he's spearheaded so far 

The latest fundraiser for Christmas are The Borehole Tins.

The tins (filled with sweets) have been produced by Tommy here in the UK, mainly so people would have something in return for their seasonal contributions as a Christmas extra,  but it’s been touch and go as to whether my little tiny dovegrey contribution would come off because I wanted different contents, and so whilst Mama Joy has been stitching, actually getting the end product here along with more fabric hasn’t been easy.

Anyway some of the Mama Joy purses have arrived...

...and I have snaffled a dozen of them (all different) for the dovegreyreader Borehole Tins and created a little tiny bit of scribbles magic. Inside each of my tins, along with one of Tommy's postcards, I've put a fat quarter of African fabric (blue, or green & yellow)  one of Mama Joy’s purses, a handmade notebook from Bookhound, and would you believe I found a stash of the DGR bookmarks so we’re including one of those along with a few of the sweets.

The notebooks  won't all look exactly like this (expect white pages) but they are a clever little folded invention from Bookhound's bookbinding days...

And of course you then have a tin to use for whatever you want.

The tins are part of the remarkable and evolving story of The Borehole image that wraps around  each one, born from a creative vision that Tommy left Uganda with in 2017. Returning to Uganda in 2018 with a half baked plan and plenty of patience this vision became a reality as he photographed 37 youngsters at their borehole in Kyabirwa village. Over the next year back in the UK, he digitally pieced, processed and printed the final image before returning to the village in January 2019 to share the 2.5 meter wide image with the children who made it possible.

It was a magical moment when the children saw themselves in the final picture too...

If you would like to know more about the Borehole Project, and how it was repaired during Tommy's visit, you'll find the full story here.

And here's a short video...

In total Tommy has created thirty-seven Bore Hole tins, one for each youngster in the photograph, and just twelve of them are the dovegreyreader specials. With every sale, each tin will deliver a Christmas dinner to five small but mighty Ugandans across the two communities he works with in Africa. Team 'Think People Think Story' is a small operation that is making a big difference and the trusted team on the ground in Uganda will source, shop and serve up the 185 Christmas dinners.

As a bonus each tin comes with a code, these are automatically entered into a draw to win an 18 x12 print of your choice from Tommy's  2021 calendar. A few of the calendars are still available here)...an essential optimistic investment, because don't we all want to see the back of 2020.

And if that wasn’t enough you will have a link on the bottom of your tin to a webpage to watch how the Christmas Dinners you supported went down in Uganda.

There are Think People Think Story team bangles to purchase too....

Made by a family in the village  and it's now down to me to make a little bag for each one. Mama Joy ran out of time before the courier left, but this pile of fabric is now here with me and I'm on the case. I can't tell you how good it feels to be carrying on something that Mama Joy has started (my bags not quite as good as hers it has to be said) but the fabric is enough to lift the heart on a grey November day...

Please don't feel under any obligation because we all know these are tough times for everyone, but if anyone does want to help out the special dovegrey tins are available via the links above or via this link to The Think People Think Story shop and even better we (as in Bookhound who is in charge of the postal department) will post worldwide. 

 

Vintage Kitchenalia...

I was doing something in the kitchen the other day which involved the food processor. I can’t remember exactly what but it probably involved apples because I haven’t done much in the kitchen lately that hasn’t involved Bramleys. The tree has been dripping with them this year and it suddenly feels like a year when we mustn’t waste them. Basket after basket after basket appears at the door and I drag them in, set up my wonderful whizzo new peeler and either set to freezing or wash and wrap them to store.

We had an ancient one of these long gone so I bought a new one off eBay for £7ish post free and was not expecting anything like the lovely thing that arrived.

Sturdy metal, suction base that actually suctions, and sharp blade that whips the peel off in a very pleasurable single corkscrew.

It was the peeling that always did for me, now I’m racing through them and we will have apples all winter. My challenge is to make something different each week . It really would be the worst thing to find myself buying cooking apples in January given the bounty. Likewise the eating apples. We have a tiny little orchard of twelve trees including Sunset and Discovery and they are the sweetest they have ever been.

Anyway, this started with the food processor and as I switched it on and set it churning (it was breadcrumbs for Nigel Slater’s crumble topping, I remember now)...

I suddenly had a several deja vue moments rolled into one giant realisation that this Braun machine must be over thirty five years old, was probably state of the art in its day and that I’d cut my thumb washing that blade more times than I can remember.

It’s so old I used to purée baby food in it. It’s  tempting fate to say more than that so I won’t because I use it a lot and I’d hate it to conk out.

Then I looked at the food mixer and realised that’s at least twenty five years old and suddenly I felt old and had another of those tempus fugit in a flash moments. And then I remembered those moments in my mum and dad’s kitchen where I’d  open the drawer and there was the potato masher that had been in use as long as you could remember, and now my kitchen’s the same because there’s the cake knife still going strong that was a wedding present forty-four years ago

And now I’m thinking I bet your kitchens are all full of these sort of things too. The stalwarts that have seen you through years and years of use and that you couldn’t possibly part with...

 

 

Reading music....

We’re well into November and I am deep into The Mirror & the Light but am going to be very honest and say it still hasn’t quite grabbed me as much as I’d hoped. I suspect this is all my fault, I’ve read or listened in dribs and drabs and perhaps that makes for a lesser impact and a disjointed atmosphere, but I’ve just passed P300 330 so progress is being made. I’ll be staying the course along with anyone else out there still with me in 1536.  And I have just read that astonishing chapter where Cromwell cries when he realises that Wolsey may not have trusted him as much as he thought, and perhaps I am now feeling it.

Through all this I’m wondering if you are a silent reader or a listening reader...

l have been a silent reader for years but lately, thanks to slightly more noticeable tinnitus, I’ve taken to having some quiet music on in the background. Tinnitus is apparently one of the scourges of lockdown as people find themselves with time on their hands to hear it, though living in such a quiet place all the time this is not quite the case for me.

And it’s all about the right music for the right book.

I’m not sure how often I’ve listened to Pablo Casals and the Bach Cello Suites, but they’re perfect background music and always but always remind of that crime series, name escapes me, but wasn't it set in Warwick? Someone will know...

For The Mirror & the Light I have The Spy’s Choirbook trilling along and I doubt I could create a better atmosphere with cornetts and sackbuts and shawms and a choir of mixed voices.

The recording I have took place in Arundel Castle and is a beautiful rendition of the motets collected by Petrus Alamire and presented to Henry VIII and Catherine of Aragon in 1516. The original choirbook is held by the British Library and with its illuminated pages must be an absolute treasure.

Back with the cello, my other listening has been an old favourite. Years ago I invested in the seventeen disc set of The Complete EMI Recordings of Jacqueline du Pre.

Her life cut tragically short by multiple sclerosis, these are a wonderful archive of her talent and something I’m really pleased I bought when I could afford it, because I’m not sure I would prioritise it now. Writing in the CD notes, Christopher Nupen says...

’ An artist like Du Pre seems not only to play the notes but to be the messenger of something between the notes or behind the notes, something very elevated that is both personal and universal at the same time, and seems to be forever.’

and whilst those nuances might pass me by when I’m reading, I’ve certainly spent time just listening to Jacqueline play down the years.

Please do share your thoughts if you are still reading The Mirror & the Light.

Meanwhile, are you a silent reader or a listening reader...

Can you read with music playing in the background...

If so I'd love to know which music works for you, and I'd love some more suggestions. I have a vast stash of CDs here, there must be more in there that would be perfect.

 

The Fire of Joy - Roughly Eighty Poems to Get by Heart and Say Aloud ~ Clive James

My chapter-a-day-of-a-thought-filled book endeavour is still going reasonably well, and no one is more surprised about this than me. I often start these things with great enthusiasm only for it to slowly wane into forgetfulness, missed days and before you know it not a lot.

My book for October was Vesper Flights by Helen Macdonald which was, sadly for me, the right book at the wrong time, so I substituted J.B.Priestley’s Grumbling at Large from Notting Hill Editions and have warmed to a man I’ve barely read and knew even less about, more to come on that. The grounding of Vesper Flights might have been more about occasionally feeling sated with nature reading so I will come back to it, probably after the winter hibernation.

Meanwhile I also seem to be making a few wrong book purchases and I’m grateful to Waterstones who take them back. We agreed it’s because there are no chairs in the store now...that’s what it is. Nothing to do with my fickleness of reading mood at all; this is all because I can’t sit down with a pile of books and get a feel for them before I commit to buy. Anyway I returned a book on recycling through history which had looked interesting but proved dense (to me) and another which was a follow up to a highly successful first book on walking around the coast (it will have its moment) and I came away with The Fire of Joy by Clive James and some money on a gift card ( towards future mistakes and returns) instead. 

'In the last months of his life, his vision impaired by surgery and unable to read, Clive James explored the treasure-house of his mind: the poems he knew best, so good that he didn’t just remember them, he found them impossible to forget. The Fire of Joy is the record of this final journey of recollection and celebration. Enthralled by poetry all his life, James knew hundreds of poems by heart. In offering this selection of his favourites, a succession of poems from the sixteenth century to the present, his aim is to inspire you to discover and to learn, and perhaps even to speak poetry aloud.

In his highly personal anthology, James offers a commentary on each of the eighty or so poems: sometimes a historical or critical note on the poem or its author, sometimes a technical point about the poem’s construction from someone who was himself a poet, sometimes a personal anecdote about the role the poem played in his own life.

Whether you’re familiar with a poem or not ― whether you’re familiar with poetry in general or not ― these chatty, unpretentious, often tender mini-essays convey the joy of James’s enthusiasm and the benefit of his knowledge. His urgent wish was to share with a new generation what he himself had loved. This is a book to be read cover to cover or dipped into: either way it generously opens up a world for our delight.'

I discovered Clive James many years ago after an event at a local literary festival. His wry and laconic TV persona was enhanced by a deep and serious intelligence which had never struck me before. He signed a copy of his essays for me and that was me confirmed as a dedicated follower. His latter years prior to his death in 2019 were not wasted. He faced down a terminal diagnosis, that really took its time to play out, with humour, fortitude and intelligence and often with some embarrassment that having declared his time was up, it clearly wasn’t. He really did give credence to that Keats poem about dying before the teeming brain has time to 

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;

The harvest, to continue Keats’s metaphor, was a steady stream of books that contained so much wisdom and humility that it’s hard to know where to begin. I bought each one as it emerged and see them as incredibly powerful manuals for life, for understanding it, for an awareness of what is possible and so much more. Follow the links for my thoughts on Injury Time and The River in the Sky 

It was an article on The Fire of Joy that alerted me to its existence and also something that always awakens my interest about learning poetry by heart. Ted Hughes edited a volume, By Heart, years ago and I keep an old damp-wrinkled copy in the car in case we ever break down, or get stuck in a blizzard, and at least I have something useful to do. I had the cassette of it somewhere, Ted Hughes reading, and if you’ve never heard Ted reading seek him out, stop whatever you’re doing and have a listen.

Clive James had a rich store of poetry known by heart thanks to a school that didn’t allow its pupils to go home each day until they’d recited a learnt poem. It really makes my own store look very meagre and how I wish I’d learned more when my brain was so capable of stashing it. I’m pretty good on a few Shakespeare soliloquies; 'To Be' and 'Tomorrow and Tomorrow' will come tumbling out at the slightest provocation.

An Example :

A while back, parking in the multi-story to head to Waterstones, and taking note of where we were...because the day we forgot and somehow found ourselves trapped by a one way door on the emergency access only staircase of the Drake Shopping Centre is never to be repeated. Anyway we’d parked in Bay 2B and that was all it took for me to launch the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. I can also summon up Archimedes Principle whenever the need arises for a body totally or partially immersed in a fluid. 

In his last days Clive James derived huge pleasure and comfort from his store of poetry. His daughter would read aloud to him and it is suggested that readers do likewise with The Fire of Joy. Even better there are helpful hints on how to read a poem aloud and they make complete sense. I’ve listened to some absolute shockers in my time ...the poets that assume the ethereal drone monotone (not Ted, oh no not Ted). Clive is all about pauses and intonation, keeping the voice up towards the end of the line, try to figure out the poem before you start etc. Each poem in this eclectic and sometimes surprising collection comes with a brief commentary, usually laced with Clive’s humour and an anecdote giving it some context, rather than any pseudo-intellectual analysis, which all makes for added enjoyment. I read the poem, read it again, read it aloud create my own context and then read Clive’s. This is a book to get a person through the winter, no question.

Meanwhile, I’m sure I’m not the only one with lines learned by heart still ready to tumble forth, so off you go in comments go on...

And talking of poems being read...did anyone else catch our Poet Laureate, Simon Armitage, reading The Bed, at the Remembrance Day service at Westminster Abbey. It is a tribute to the Unknown Warrior and it was all and everything a poem (and a Poet Laureate reading it aloud) needs to be right now...

 

 

Update... The Mirror & the Light

‘Ah. Privy Seal is greater?

Privy Seal is all I could desire. The ambassador takes a sliver of veal.’

An exchange between Thomas Cromwell and Eustace Chapuys, and though I’ve now read it for the fourth time of asking it still leaps off the page at me as a wonderful play on words. Privy Seal - Sliver of Veal. And I mistakenly read ‘silver’ in there too. Magical.

I’m up to page 214 and have a nice notebook on the go too,

 

But I now have to confess I’ve hit a bit of a confused phase with The Mirror & the Light and I’m hoping you can help out to save me having to turn back. The trouble is I’m mixing listening with reading and I have a feeling I might have dozed off because suddenly someone else is pregnant and I’m not sure who, or the significance, but there’s more trouble for Thomas to sort out. And someone who thought they were pregnant but turns out not to be...I’m thinking that one might be connected to Wyatt languishing in the Tower.

Poor beleaguered Crumuell never seems to get any peace, but am I seeing the cracks appearing. I think I am. Veiled threats alongside increasing signs that the King’s bidding  is becoming a greater burden than Cromwell envisaged. 

I knew if I could feel like part of the furniture and just watch, as I discovered when I read both Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies, then I’d be in. And though I’m not feeling that sense of belonging quite so intensely yet, I am basking in Hilary Mantel’s unique ability to create atmosphere through her rich descriptions of fabric of its texture and feel, even the sound it makes ...and the colours, aren’t the colours sumptuous.  

And I’m feeling for the poor women too. Utterly empty lives, pointless unless they can reproduce and their entire lives seem to be spent trying to do so, or trying not to do so. And alongside is the gossip and rumour, the Tudor equivalent of Twitter no doubt. Fake news probably just as rife then as now.

Unless anyone can help me out with a quick resume of my muddled bit I’ll have to retrace my steps, but this little hiccup apart I’m feeling in fine fettle for proceeding having now read beyond my previous three attempts. Thirty or so pages a day and I look forward to them. 

Meanwhile how are you all doing...

Hasn’t it been a treat to escape back to 1536...

And then when you get there, and have a wander around, you realise human nature has changed very little in all that time..

 

Pleasings...

So many I hardly know where to start but I'll start with looking forward...

I've been thinking ahead to next spring as a real antidote to the winter I knew we'd be having, and so I have planted up lots of bulbs in pots. Tulips, this year Angelique and Victoria's Secret  (Belle Epoque sold out very early) and a huge half barrel (a present from the Gamekeeper) planted up with several varieties of narcissus for spring cheer and colour. I keep thinking how hearts will lift en masse when we get through to the other side and see those first green shoots. Never will it all be so welcome. 

These the Belle Epoque and Black Parrot from 2018...

I've also chitted, soaked and sowed my sweet peas ready for next year. I plan to major in sweet peas because I love them so much and the slugs seem to hate them, so I'm currently eyeing up a sunny spot in the garden which I can dig (or persuade Someone Else to) and have a row of twigwams just for sweet peas, as well as my usual places. I ordered a variety of seeds from Nicky's Nursery, including Wuthering Heights, Just Jenny,  Matucana (my dad's favourite) Old Spice  and various mixed selections. A high percentage sprouted and they are now pushing their way up in the greenhouse. I'll keep pinching them out until it gets really cold which should slow them down nicely. I use old knitting needles as supports and tie them in as they get taller and I will cover them over if we have frost, just in case.

Down to more mundane things...

I've cleaned the oven...

Two days and two boxes of Oven Pride nuclear liquid later and the thing is sparkling. There are no 'before' pictures because it was too disgraceful to be seen in public but look at it now...

Honestly, you need sun glasses to cope with the dazzle, far too lovely to be used. We're just going to look at it and admire it, and eat cold food and raw cake mix.

I've also defrosted the freezer...

The annual removal of the Titanic iceberg has happened. Actually I waded in before it had reached Titanic  proportions and it didn't take long at all. More Brownie points, it's the just a shame the door stays properly shut now and I can't admire the lack of polar ice cap.

There's nothing like a gift is there, and I'm back rather swiftly to the Joni theme because I  had really special present from a lovely friend this week. We are both huge Joni fans, so imagine my delight when the new Joni Mitchell 5 CD box set arrived. Joni is releasing early recordings from her archives and Volume One The Early Years (1963-1967) sees a young Joni finding her feet in the world of folk music whilst developing her own inimitable style, and exploring exactly what her voice could do. Once a sweet soprano she discovered a range in a lower register and you can definitely hear those experiments in these sublime early recordings. 

Joni was also stunningly beautiful, and looking at the pictures reminds me how much I wanted to be her, with the glowing complexion and the long blond mane, when I was about fourteen with spots and frizzy hair. I did manage the guitar bit, though Joni's tunings were always a mystery.

For any other Joni fans out there, don't miss this interview with her about this new collection, she's still a delight. And this despite having had a very tough time health-wise in recent years.

That's plenty from me, over to you.

Let's hear about all your Pleasings in comments. Lots of good things must have happened in amongst the less good...we definitely need to know about them.

 

 

 

Here we go again... The Mirror & the Light ~ Hilary Mantel

I don't believe this.

The last time I settled down to read The Mirror & the Light Lockdown the First happened and the book proved to be entirely the wrong sort of confinement reading for me.

And now what happens...

We plan to read it through November together and what happens, here in England at least, Lockdown the Second.

It's almost as if Anne Boleyn is sending messages, warning me off, because if I read that opening chapter once more about the narrow shoulders fitting in the arrow box, and the dripping clothes, and the ladies-in-waiting not quite sure where to wipe their hands, and the head nestling by the feet...well what's a reader to do.

Anyway, we planned it so I'm going to have another go, thirty pages a day minimum will keep me on track (I often find this approach helps) and if I get past page 133 then I've surpassed previous attempts and that will feel like a win. I will of course quite understand if anyone who thought they'd join in now feels right book wrong time again, don't feel in the least bit defeated because I won't. I will beg forgiveness in advance if the same thing happens again here, but I do have book, Kindle and audio versions so I'm hopeful.

I’ve upgraded and splashed out on a Kindle Oasis when they were hugely discounted recently, plus I had a gift voucher awaiting its moment, and I have to say I love it a bit too much all helped by a gorgeous cover that reminds me of New Zealand every time I see it..

While I was about it I revamped the Ikea £1ish bright and rather distracting turquoise bookstand (breakfast reading) with a piece of quilted shibori that had lain unused for about two years. It's a lovely reminder of swimming in Lake Hawea...

These images in my mind seem to matter a lot at the moment.

The added bonus of the Oasis is the effortless synchronised swap between reading and listening. I have a little Sony blue tooth speaker ( SRS XB-01 waterproof for bath listening) that does the job nicely...

And not propping the heavy book is a win-win too. The new improved, and slightly bigger, warm-light screen is a joy for my eyes at the 4am awakening, as well as being able to adjust the font and spacing. I've decided this might be the way ahead for fiction reading at least. Too many books with tiny print these days.

Uncertain, unpredictable times with us all in the same storm, but different boats. Let's see how our reading of The Mirror & the Light copes with any turbulence ahead. I think the little reading guides have all arrived (thank you for your emails letting me know) but nor should those people feel obliged to read if the time doesn't feel right either. If not now, the book will have its day dreckly.

Let me know if you think you'll be joining in, it will help keep me going to know you're out there and I'm not reading alone...

Or if you'll be cheering us from the side-lines, with words of encouragement and advice, as we head back to 1536 for some peace and quiet...

And do share any other time-filling projects planned; reading or otherwise...

Incidentally, has anyone else had their circadian rhythms completely scuppered by the clocks going back?