'How many roads must a man walk down... before you can call him a man?'...

Thus we sung into the night, gathered at the fields of Eden at Camp Jezsther, on Friday and Saturday nights, the home brew chilling in the air and warming the cockles, the camp fire blazing and curry digesting, the piano - parked carefully under the sail between the tractor and the camper van - slowly detuning and retuning our festivities: it was Jeremy and Esther Higham's 40:10 party - her 40th birthday and their 10th anniversary.... Much fun was had by many: there were about 100 plus of us I'd have wagered, lots of little munchkins, mostly camping and enjoying the tolerable weather and wonderful surroundings of Jez and Es's fields in Kent.

3rd time they've had a Summer party like that: two years ago was Rob and Bianca's wedding with its Shire/LOTR theme - last year was camp Arapaho - Wild West style larks in the countryside. Oh the joy they've bought to so many families with their homegrown hospitality... and not a few of us singletons too!

Nick the Vic and I headed up to Peterborough yesterafter to collect my aspirant fireplace back from another Nick at the Happy Valley Medical Practice, Anytown, Countyshire. Felt very weird - the first time I've bought summat on tut ebay (for £1!) and put a face to an internet only contact. He was a nice chap who looked rather familiar, funnily enough, and, yes, a Doctor, so we were musical, clerical and medical between us...

Piano sur terre

The fireplace at home, that the ebay purchase was meant to augment and complement, I managed to drop on my toe and break (the fireplace that is), about 10 mins after arriving back from our journey of 180 miles: not big or clever, but fortunately no bone damage done (ow!) Looks good though and my middle-class fantasy bedroom seems to be coming into reality...

Daisyella 

Beerneernaby and I headed to the Bankside Gallery on someday last week, for the Watercolourists annual exhib. See pics of wobbly bridge sunsets and bald bonce competing with the St Paul's dome for the domiest dome prize.

Loo facilities for the under 5s


Someone at Jezsther's mentioned a doom laden prophecy for the Olympics and I must admit I'm feeling a bit twitchy over the whole eyes-of-the-world fixed-on-their-ideological-enemy moment that we're enjoying on telly/news at the moment. My friend's report of  words about the potential Damoclesian sword hanging over the whole event and the London area was not aided by the sense that I had last night about certain passages from Ezekiel 26 and 27 being an eensy weensy bit applicable to this island nation and Nodnol in particular.

Sloane Slums

From my brief internet research, folk are uncertain where the ancient city of Tyre is or represents, but either how, she is

"enthroned at the gateway of the sea, agent between the peoples and the many islands... your frontiers were far out to sea... every sea-going ship and crew frequented you to guarantee your trade... Tarshish traded with you because of your abundant resources and exchanged your merchandise for silver, iron, tin and lead..."

then long lists of stuff that was traded by this place, wherever it is...

slaves... horses... many islands were your customers and paid you in ivory tusks and ebony... Edom traded with you for the sake of your many manufactured goods, exchanging garnets, purple, embroideries, fine linen, coral and rubies for your goods. Judah and the land of Israel also traded with you... corn, honey, oil and balm...

Barnar

then it continues to mention various other places bringing wine and wool, wrought iron, saddle cloths... "Arabia and the sheiks of Kedar were your customers... merchants of Sheba and Raamah supplied you with spices, precious stones and gold... etc etc.

"You enriched the kings of the earth with your excess of wealth and goods...

"you are destroyed then, vanished from the seas, famous city, former sea-power, who with her citizens used to spread terror all over the mainland! Now the islands are trembling on the day of your fall; the islands of the sea are terrified by your end...

and to the king of Tyre...

"by your wisdom and intelligence you have made yourself a fortune, you have put gold and silver into your treasuries. Such is your skill in trading, your fortune has continued to increase..."

Anyhow, just thought I'd put it out there.

"How many seas must the white dove sail, before she can sleep in the sand...?"

David and Susle plus Bluebell the harp and Christopher the guitar

Voldemort versus Mary Poppins!? That was the Olympic fantasy rumour two days ago and I'm so little up to speed that I'm uncertain whether it's true or not. Aviary was at the rehearsal last night so doubtless will be filling me in...

Jane

Does it get any better than that? Possibly Gandalf or Merlin would have more sway with audiences of a certain generation but Mary Poppins is certainly up there - she's possibly a bit Miss Marple by comparison to the formers' more Sherlock Holmesian credentials, but St Mary Mead has its moments...

Bumble Barran-Poolopot, who also came for dinner last night

We were talking at dinner last night at Harper Hall about... no, it's completely gone - wafted out of my brain like a direct debit on the first of the month. Oh well...

Randle McDandle

But dinner at HH last night was a very good one - NOT lentils for a change, but pasta with smoked salmon and mushrooms, leeks, garlic sauce, onions, peas and crusty bread. Baked bananas, coffee, an embarrassment of chocolate and small Baileys to follow. (Is that a kosher expression?)

Sarah de Nordwall and Rondle - Constable country
Flatford Mill, October 2010

Randle McDandle crashed over and was snoring for team GB when I popped in to his room to get my wallet this morning. David Ingham was a lovely guest: very interesting and erudite and much fun - plus the usual delights of having the Barranette-Poolopots. Bluebell the harp came out to entertain the troops and Susle and I did a little duet with guitar, also some Jack Pointing from Yeomen of the Guard plus Susle playing a piano composition of hers. Much fun! Bed 1am. ugggggh....

Sarah de Nordwall at Cake Boutique - our poetry tea, October 2010

Jezward Higham rang yesterday to confirm that I'm heading to Edenbridge on Friday for camp 40:10, his and Esther's 10th wedding anniversary and her 40th birthday party. Looking forward to the outdoors loos and playing the piano in the field. Maybe a dip in the river Eden - oh happy name...

Andreth plus duvet. It's been 19 months since this photo you star,
if you remember why you stayed those few days.

And so, the 'Lympic torch heads to Lavender Hill - not via the 137 bus presumably or even broomstick or umbrella. Tee hee!

Charlotte being true to form

Oh no! Just heard rumours of rain tomorrow and that the Summer is ending on Saturday - aaaargh! Just as my bald head was getting used to not wearing a hat....

Oh well...

For what we have received, may the Lord make us truly thankful:

Grazie!

Me being Sloane Squared

Procrastinator spotted! 4 o'clock, Starbucks, Clapham Common...

'you can have the clock for $1000, but the other one's not for sale mate'...

Been fiddling around with a job application while Ricardo's superconfuser is gathering dust at Harper Hall... oh my... just a bit overwhelmed with all I've got to do for this recording and have chosen the flight rather than fight response...

rogue dinner guest

 Weather lovely, wish you were here...

Julia's Shakesventuring

London seems a different place these last two days: sunny for one thing, happy, more bare of midriff and light of foot. Meanwhile the 'honest British workmen of Ashley Crescent are busy battering the flats into submission through their policy of attrition and cupboard building etc. Hurrah! Lets cheer them on to the home straight!

Julian clearly out of Focus holiday catchment zone

dinner chez Luise, 2011

Lots of folk seem to be festivalsinging and that, and the phone has been decidedly quiet today.

more Shakesventuring...

6am ish, Easter Day, Cliftonville, 2011

 Not a whole lot to rant on about for a change - PTL for the weather!

me good mate, JP, Eclectica Cottage (I'm on a box or something)

and MOLTO GRAZIE!

John Baird post Brahms Requiem
backstage at St Martin in the Fields, 2011

"And my heart told my head, this time NO..oo..ooo..." (Mumford and Sons on in the background of the Coffice Shop - this time Starbucks sur Clapham Common)...

Yesterday was a bit of a snickersathon... hang on that sounds a bit rude!... a marathickers... over to Norbiers for 915am (cheers for lift Delores) plus keyboard and music and (admittedly liteweight) amplifier... then service and  then rehearsal with Ben Moore for September's background music gig at the St Ann's Gallery - see list of concerts for details, it's off/on the main blog page somewhere. Then swift train to Clarm Junc for clearing and sorting and cooking, arrival of ma n pa (plus Jack Russell Harmer), lunch, (night before's lentils plus)  and then arrival of Tom, Leonore, Jo, HG, Lizzy, Elaine, Jane, Duncan, Margaret, listening to the whole play from our performance in June, spot more lunch and then washing up (thanks again Jane), quick getting into character sesh, then over to Basstone for a fairly intense 3 hours recording.

Lizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

L-R: Tom, Jane, Leonor (with bike), Lizzy, Jo,
 Margaret, Elaine, HG, Duncan at Harper Hall East-Wing

Phewf!

Well done gang... we got it done anyway - the main body of the play that is - music and effects to be added soon. Well done Aaron too for your usual brilliance and unflappability etc. and ease-of-working-withness... as Paul Barker might put it... always a pleasure... never a chore. (Steady badger... easy tiger...)

Then, after our sesh at the studio off home while others pubbed (I think) and dinner with m n d n JRH and Susle Barran-Poolopot. I just about overheard her comment that I was falling asleep from the depths of the sofa faux fur and managed to get her to the bus-stop on time for a double 0 137 to wing her home to Chelsea and the 'no-local-shops' side of the river.

Ugh.... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

The loveliest card arrived from La Max with the sunshine this morning - thank you Julia darling! So sweet of you to write as you did: very glad you share the appreciation of the lentil, surely the Potenate of Pulses.... as well as the other things you mentioned. Mwah! x

Elaine was still at Tarragon when I walked JRH at quarter to 11 last night, enjoying the delicious lamb and lime (yes! weird combination, but it Soo works...) and it was a last moment treat to chat to her in the doorway with JR straining at the lead to enjoy a repeat performance of Kami's chicken breastmeat tidbits from when the restaurant was called the Kisse Bar, and dogs were still allowed. There was one evening when there were three Jack Russells in there at the same time - want to meet people in your neighborhood? Go get a puppy!

Jane on Willow pattern, Elaine and Margaret 

Billy and Ant were at Mass this morning and we repaired to le Caffe Nero for our usual sustenance and wake up. Need to get a photo of Billy up here afore too long if he permits.

Ant has shaved off his tricho-mania beard and looks a new - and younger - man. I'm sitting in Starbucks (vis) a few hours later, the hot sun frying the pavement outside and the air still and late-July-traffic quiet, even if the Olympics are but a Boris-Johnson-week-in-politics away. Couple of action photos came through today from John Larkin and Sarah nee Fordham's wedding. Spent most of the morning with m n p at Chelsea n Westminster Hospital while Mum had her regular checkup.

Ant - newly shorn

Ma and  Susle

I'm so grateful for (and protective of) my parents these days, beginning to appreciate the sacrifices they've made for me and each other and the family and general loveliness and niceness: even the Old Pirate in his dotage has become more and more sweetness and light, and Mum seems to completely win over any of my friends she meets.
Lovely neighbour Ron helped Al to the car this morning:  they're having their refit this week and Xena (or Zena) the warrior Princess Pussycat is coming for a sojourn next door at Harper Hall while the workmen are banging away. Her tummy dragging along the floor...

Harper and Pa Harmer 

How we laughed (at ourselves)...

Cracking cheddar crisps Gromit...

"John, do you think this scarf's too tight?!"

So the week comes to an ending and a start - beginning to work on the album again today after I've recovered from the weekend. Big thanks to Father Michael for the pleasant surprise at St Ann's yesterday in the little white envelope - prayers answered there: thank you Our Lady of Perpetual Help and the three folk I admire the most (along with Don Maclean - only one of which is a man of course, and He's more than merely mortal!)

Mogenfinch, thank you for all your hard Mogendorffing with the album and so glad you enjoyed the harp.

Forgive the personal nature/comments of this blog post, but my friends and family have been wonderful this last week particularly and I wanted to mention some of you by name.


Enjoy the sunshine,

for which

Molto Grazie!!!


'And my heart told my head... this time nooo.ooo.ooo.... ' a loop of the soundtrack already!

Well yes it was lentils again last night for dinner with la charmante Maxfield, who graciously - as always - made me feel ten feet tall, such is her anointing of encouragement... even my little culinary skills solicited forth some scraping of plates and servings of seconds, thirds, and, was it fourths!?

The famous tower room dinner party with Rondle, Aviary, Me and Lydia

Ant bought me breakfast this morning - very kindly - and Yaro had a chocolate present for Aviary and I at lunchtime, so I've hardly gone hungry...

Barnarnaby with the version of my poem he illustrated
for the Walpole Bay Napery Gallery

Feeling very peaceful still from the levels of clutter-be-gone around the flat. Even tidied up my nigh empty jars of honey, with their hopeful "one day they might come in handy Piglet" Pooh-bear scrapings. There's fast growing a similar sized depository of nigh empty peanut butter jars, mostly bought from Ajez, my local Halal grocer.

Stuart Reid - District line - Ash Wednesday 2011
No prizes for guessing Stuart's profession

Ajez and I chat most days - principally because his shop is right beside the 345 bus stop which I use several times a day/week. He's got the finest selection of meats on Lavender Hill - well... the only selection of meats on Lavender Hill that is: I've not bought any as yet - nor am I likely to - but he also does a brisk business in the sorts of cans and veg and spices that my regular grocer, John Sainsbury's emporium around the corner, is as yet to stock.

Aviary and Lucy Britton in Pimlico, March 2011

Ajez has a fine selection of every type of lentil (viz) and bean you could imagine, and sauces and packets of flavourings to boost the culinary compliments of pretty, female, Oxford English literature graduate visitors to the dining room of Harper Hall. Today's must-have dinner investment was two sweet potatoes for the grand total of 70pence. He'd sold out of butter beans.

Ajez regularly gets up the early side of 430am to drive trucks of meat from forecourts near Peterborough to the Halal hungry enclaves of SW11. There's a telltale sign next to the electric saw mounted behind the counter...

         'DO NOT TALK TO ME WHEN I AM USING THIS MACHINE!'

so it's evidently not just me that he's chatty with. He still has both hands with the usual complement of 5 apiece, but it must have flashed through his mind to be careful more than once. Ow!

Not a good sideline career for a pianist (or harpist for that matter)...

The Heartspeak meeting in Ealing last Spring
L-R Sarah de Norwall, Piotr Stolarski, Sarah Fordham,
?Forgive, me and Bess Twiston-Davies

Ajez is quite tough about the occasional - for want of  a better word - 'oiky' youth that circulate on the Hill, kicking bus stops and tin cans. Billy, from HTB, said the other day that some chaps tried to nab his pension a little while ago. Not a good idea - not anywhere. Billy's not up on Lavender Hill of course, but it's the sort of grandad-mugging tendency that Ajez would probably solve with a few dozen friends and some handfuls of local half-pound pebbles: we've not had any stonings as yet here in SW11, but I'll keep you posted.

The window of St Paul's bookshop at Victoria had that passage displayed today about 'do not judge and you will not be judged. For in the measure that you meet so shall it be done unto you.' You know, the one that comes just before 'Do not give to dogs what is sacred.' Guess Jesus wanted us to consider both statements in the light of each other, what with them being so neighborly in the text. Not sure where that leaves Billy's would be pension grabbers, but he assured me that after they'd been caught and done the appropriate time, they were now congregation members somewhere - HTB possibly; I don't remember.

At the other end of the spectrum, La Max was telling me about The Assassins - evidently some quasi-religious/a-religious/anti-religious society/brotherhood that simmers amongst the elite fraternities of Heifferford Univarsity. Not sure what I should say about what I was told but it was all news to me, the pigs head on a stick routine etc. Wasn't like that at York (as far as I know) although there was a rumor of various shenanigans in the drama barn, and there was definitely something dodgy and 8 legged under our fridge at Neville Terrace that I wouldn't have been surprised had something to do with George "or-was-it-really-Graham" Pickett's Alastair Crowley obssession...

           "Beware the duvet of doom and shun the sofa of shame..."

Thus we chanted to keep the pixies of student vacuum cleaner shyness from their belemnitous practices.

Julian and the Buffalo Mozzarella

(Very glad that Chloe doesn't appear to recognise 'belemnitous' which is a real word; honest!)

My producer - Aaron Harry.

I just "bless you'd" the somewhat sneezy gentlemen sitting opposite, here at Batt man's Gotham City office, in Victoria. The other day, and for the first time, I heard someone slam the "bless you" door in the blessers face. Can anyone else corroborate such an event? I know (or think I do) that it is a quasi-medieval practice - and I guess I'm going to have to google it in a second - but the intention must be at some level "you are sneezing and therefore possibly ill - God preserve you from sickness." What's the irritant there? Does it feel somehow religio-patronising possibly? Meanwhile I think I'll carry on "Bless you-ing" folk rather than run scared of a tish-mob armed with Machiavelli and Kleenex.


(Quite like that last sentence... especially the tish-mob bit)


Anyhow, just thoughts and reflections, and for the giver of both thoughts and the ability to sneeze...


MOLTO Grazie!!

Hugh-Guy Lorriman at St Richards' School, Herefordshire 2012

"Praise the Lord and pass the lentils!", as I often say over dinner these days, such is their domination of my current cuisine choice - La Max is blessing me with her presence this eve hopefully, and I think it's red lentils yet again... I can cook other things - honest - just I've got into a lentil phase. Well, lentils and porridge and bananas mostly. Seem to still be losing weight and getting fitter though, and energy levels are good and eating and sleeping well.

Dropped in to see Aaron at Basstone yesterday and played him my two new songs on the BB which he liked. Interestingly he thought the lyrics to Thank you for the Dance were too middle class - suppose they are a bit, but hadn't thought that would be a problem... more James Blunt anyone??? He suggested I listen to Adele and have a rethink on that front. It is in her style - I'd love to hear hear her singing it. Guess my bank manager would too...

Literary Lunch, January 2011?

 Talking of which, a small embarrassment at the checkout of Sainsbury's meant it wasn't smoked haddock with poached eggs and spinach for dinner last night, rather a very happily received free meal from dear Kami at Tarragon: bless you Kami. I thought of you this morning at St Mary's.

Riccardo Moogenfinchers, The Cardinal pub, 2009

Ant has just gone off to carry on his day after we had a coffee and hot water here at Cafe Nero, his preferred brekker venue - I love their wifi connection... We were in confessional mood both of us: golly, what a tale - suppose we both have in our different ways. Sorry to arouse your curiosity (and not satiate it) dear reader, but it was interesting to hear what he had to say.

L-R Rosie, Rosemary and Laura, The Cardinal pub RCIA gang 2009

Spoke to Jeepers last night for about 45 of our earth minutes: he sounds a changed man, and, indeed, I failed to recognise his voice when he answered the phone...! Some of the best decisions I've ever made have been leaving jobs - often a much bigger and more positive thing than starting them funnily enough, certainly in terms of its impact on one's mental clarity and peace of mind, ability to focus etc. etc. I remember my joy at leaving the Royal Ballet School (after 10 years working there) - or do I? Actually, I remember the wanting to leave and the cumulative sense afterwards of having made the right decision (for which wisdom and encouragement to do so my huge thanks Mozza, as you then were).

Jeepers is enjoying the same feeling having now left his pit-stop in academic purgatory: full marks of respect to him for having gone through the pain barrier etc etc and emerging to smile at the happier side of the finishing line of this particular race. He's got so much leaner and fitter too - quite an achievement.

Bold Tendencies exhibition in Peckham courtesy of Lucy Britton. Summer 2011 

Family Evans at Edward's christening, September 2011 

Rondle McDondle has been sojourning chez Margate with Ma and Pa, and I've enjoyed hearing the daily briefing of what they've all been up to. Years ago, I would regularly go to Magatty for the entire summer, often for a month at a time, popping back up to London to sing a Sunday service, and then high tailing it back to the Kent Riviera on Network Southeast. Halcion Summer days of sunbathing and reading and walking and gathering round the dining table and at the cafe and church and charity shop. Margate is so much nicer now than it was 10 years ago - especially with the Turner Contemporary gallery and all the new Artsy feel: can't wait to get down there again. Maybe the Fellowship will have to have another trip to the East Kent Marches...

Mum's reception into the Catholic Church at St Ann's Cliftonville with late Father Eric and her sponsor Dr John Keet

Literary Lunch, March 19th 2011 

We're gathering pace for the recording of the album next week - or the first recording of the album anyway. Need to have an urgent conversation with the elusive Mogenfinch plus the longsuffering Mike Cayton; he did get to play at the Christmas concert I organised at St Ann's, but there's been more talk from the Harper than actual music making with Mike and I feel I need to pull the rabbit out of the hat rather. Again, another phone conversation needs to happen fairly soon. Gatesdene gang are scheduled over on Sunday for recording of our audio book, but - and if any of you are reading please take note! - I've yet to hear back from more than Elaine, HG and Margaret... hint hint, er...  are you coming???  (three question marks)

Barnaby on "Holiday", Literary Lunch June 2011

The gathered throng: Literary Lunch at Terre di Sud, June 2011.

I'm enjoying blogging a bit more often this last month and reader numbers seem to be up. For which, and for all of the above and the positive vibe I'm going through at the moment....

Molto Grazie!!!