ganching

Anniversary

Today is the anniversary of Seamus Heaney's death on the 30th August 2013.

This is what I wrote that day:

"I was looking forward to this talk. When I first heard about it I went on line to find tickets but I thought I was too late as it seemed to be completely sold out.  I went back a couple of days later and managed to get two tickets in the rear stalls. I was really pleased to have something to look forward to in that long, grim stretch between the end of summer and Christmas.  It is always a pleasure to hear Seamus Heaney speak.

I actully gasped today when at lunchtime I went onto the Guardian site to find out if Cameron had resigned and instead read the awful news that Seamus Heaney had died.  As I was reading it my brother texted me to tell me about it.  In Ireland you are never more than two degrees away from anyone else.  My brother's partner is best friends with Heaney's niece and she grew up surrounded by Heaneys.  As my mother would have said there's a big connection of them.

My mother's family and the Heaneys are distantly related although that is not as impressive as it sounds as probably most of the population of Ireland is distantly related to each other.

 I sat in front of my desk at work and wept.   One of my sisters told me she had cried uncontrollably for an hour after she heard the news.

It's hard to explain why the death of a man none of us knew could have such an effect but as I have said before his voice has been in my head almost all my life.  He represented everything I love about the Northern Irish.  His wit and humour, his shyness and self-effacing nature, his intelligence and of course his way with words reminded me of other Northern Irish people I knew who while not quite as brilliant as him shared many of these traits.  My father's family loved word play and the making up of rhymes.  Like Heaney most of them looked kind of craggy and knew what snedding meant.  They were capable of playfulness despite tribulations. Heaney was like the best teacher you could ever have had or a really brilliant uncle who would have stood you a pint and taken an interest in what A levels you were doing.

Like my mother Heaney grew up near Toome and often mentioned it in his poetry.  My parents got married in Creggan and had their reception in Toome, famous for its eels and the execution of Roddy McCorley, a United Irish man and radical Presbyterian.  We went to O'Neill's hotel for dinner after my grandmother's funeral. I'm pretty sure Heaney would have visited O'Neills from time to time.

I'm glad that I did at least get to speak to Seamus Heaney if only for a minute or so at a book signing.  I'm going to Ireland next week and I'll visit Bellaghy and light a candle for Famous Seamus.

I don't know what I'll be doing though on the 28th November. "

Hard to believe that this was thirteen years ago.

 

 

I actully gasped today when at lunchtime I went onto the Guardian site to find out if Cameron had resigned and instead read the awful news that Seamus Heaney had died.  As I was reading it my brother texted me to tell me about it.  In Ireland you are never more than two degrees away from anyone else.  My brother's partner is best friends with Heaney's niece and she grew up surrounded by Heaneys.  As my mother would have said there's a big connection of them.

My mother's family and the Heaneys are distantly related although that is not as impressive as it sounds as probably most of the population of Ireland is distantly related to each other.

 I sat in front of my desk at work and wept.   One of my sisters told me she had cried uncontrollably for an hour after she heard the news.

It's hard to explain why the death of a man none of us knew could have such an effect but as I have said before his voice has been in my head almost all my life.  He represented everything I love about the Northern Irish.  His wit and humour, his shyness and self-effacing nature, his intelligence and of course his way with words reminded me of other Northern Irish people I knew who while not quite as brilliant as him shared many of these traits.  My father's family loved word play and the making up of rhymes.  Like Heaney most of them looked kind of craggy and knew what snedding meant.  They were capable of playfulness despite tribulations. Heaney was like the best teacher you could ever have had or a really brilliant uncle who would have stood you a pint and taken an interest in what A levels you were doing.

Like my mother Heaney grew up near Toome and often mentioned it in his poetry.  My parents got married in Creggan and had their reception in Toome, famous for its eels and the execution of Roddy McCorley, a United Irish man and radical Presbyterian.  We went to O'Neill's hotel for dinner after my grandmother's funeral. I'm pretty sure Heaney would have visited O'Neills from time to time.

I'm glad that I did at least get to speak to Seamus Heaney if only for a minute or so at a book signing.  I'm going to Ireland next week and I'll visit Bellaghy and light a candle for Famous Seamus.

I don't know what I'll be doing though on the 28th November. "

Hard to believe that this was thirteen years ago.

 

Walking In Central London

I went shopping today in central London.   It still feels like a novelty to be able to go into the West End at 11 o'clock on a working day.  I walked from Charing Cross to Marylebone via Soho and I was sensible enough to write a shopping list.

My first purchase was two pairs of walking socks which sadly weren't in a sale and cost a lot more than I expected them to but hopefully they will prove to be an investment.  

Next I went to Muji as I thought I would be able to get a wash bag there but I had no luck.  I noted that there were no infusers pumping out synthetic fumes which made a nice change as normally I can only spend about three minutes in a Muji store before I start wheezing.  This makes me really cross as I really like Muji stores and I imagine that like me a lot of people aren't keen on infusers.  Nothing was purchased in Muji.

I cut through Soho and walked down a street I'd never been on in my life before.  Soho still has a smattering of sex shops and for a second or two I considered going into one but only because I've never crossed the threshold of a sex shop.  I walked on.

I crossed Oxford Street.  While I like going to one or two shops on Oxford Street I loathe walking down the pavement so I usually cut round the back. I passed a Boots so went in and got some Deet and two packets of Ibuprofen.  Better safe than sorry.

I zigzagged through the streets of Marylebone and walked down Harley Street past the grand houses which are now mainly filled with consulting rooms.  I watched a woman lurking in a hallway sucking on a vape.  There were hardly any people around apart from men in hi-vis jackets who were digging up the roads.

On Marylebone Road I went Daunt's bookshop which is much loved by the bookstagram community on Instagram.  I didn't buy anything there but I did buy a book in the Oxfam shop and then in a very expensive deli I bought one nectarine and a muffin and I walked to the Wallace Collection because I knew there were benches there and I sat there and had my lunch.

Next I walked to John Lewis where I bought two more pairs of socks, and a boost charge for my phone. I did not buy a new suitcase even thought I spent ages looking at them.

By the time I got home I'd walked over 13000 steps and I was exhausted

Rubbish and Fading Hydrangeas

After talking about it for several months we finally managed to have our collective rubbish removed.   First thing in the morning TB, SF and I are gathered it all up, broken wicker chairs, a large printer, a broken compost bin, an office chair and all kinds of other detritus and left it in the front of the house.  Two hours later a couple of guys turned up and in less than ten minutes it was all gone.  It cheered me up so much that I celebrated by cleaning  the communal hall.

Early in the evening I went into the garden which is looking very sad but at least there is no longer a broken compost bin and a huge tarpaulin sheet which have been there for several years.  The hydrangea blooms are all fading but they still look rather lovely I think. 

I wish there was a service you could ring up who would come and remove the foxes.  I don't wish them any harm but I do wish they would stop sleeping on the flower beds and using the entire garden as a toilet.

Tomorrow I'm going into town to buy some essential items for my walking holiday.  These include new socks, insect repellant and several over the counter drugs.   This is one of the signs of aging.  In my youth I might have brought a packet of paracetamol when going on holiday in case I had a hangover but now that I am ancient and never have hangovers essential items include two types of sinusitis treatments, IBS tablets, painkillers, antihistamines and prescription drugs for thyroid issue.   

I am beginning to get a little excited about going away.

Bookclubs

These are the books I sold today

One of the things that happens when you stop working is that the time it takes to do small chores  or any type of personal admin expands until it takes up an entire day.  Today due to some extremely bad diary management I had three different appointments and some admin to do.  I found it so stressful I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown.

I made an appointment to have my hair cut in north London this morning and then I remembered that my lunchtime bookclub was also today and my evening bookclub was rescheduled to tonight.  I spent quite a lot of time getting from A to B and I managed to do all of it without being late for any of my appointments.  I did my personal admin on the bus.

Both bookclubs were quite enjoyable although the discussion at the evening one was better.  The bookshop is very small so we had our meeting on the pavement outside  which was fine but it was quite hard to hear what people were saying due to the noise of traffic and loud music being played by couriers who had come to the fish and chip shop next door to pick up deliveries.

The books under discussion were Apeirogon by Colum McCann and Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk.  I really enjoyed  these books and would recommend both of them.

This day last year I was at my niece's Neesh's wedding and this is the dress I wore.  I wore the same dress  today and when I was walking down the road to the station  I met a woman  and as she passed me she said in as strong west African accent, "Your gown is beautiful".  I was so taken aback it took me a few second to process what she said.

I'm completely exhausted now.

Me in a hotel room this time last year

 

Unproductively

This evening I was feeling a little low as I often do on Bank Holidays.  I'm sure my dislike of Bank Holidays has something to do with growing up in the north of Ireland where Bank Holidays weren't really acknowledged in the same way they are here.  So for example in Northern Ireland people go to work on Good Friday.  The day when everyone is on holiday is the 12th July which is not a day for people who don't like the oppression of one group by another.

Anyway despite feeling that I'd done nothing I did actually achieve one or two things.

I listed quite a few books on Etsy although I didn't sell anything.  My shop is going to be closed for two weeks and I'm having an end of summer sale. Still a few days of it to go.

I also went out to the garden shed and managed to fill a big bag with rubbish which I put in the bin.  I also took photographs of the items that I am getting rid off and I then spent at least an hour sorting out the photographs that TB and SF took of the items they are getting rid of and filling in the forms that you are required to fill in if you want a quote from waste companies.  It was very worthwhile doing this as the price I finally got was £200 less than the original price quoted.   I also put a couple of items on Freecycle, a metal shelf from Ikea and a Christmas tree holder but only one of these has gone off to its new home.  I will let you guess which item it was.

I also went for a short walk and saw lots of signs of the changing seasons.  Rowan berries are out and the chestnut trees are already beginning to lose their leaves.

I read fifty pages of my book and  while I still have another  fifty pages to read by one o'clock tomorrow I'm confident I'll do it.

On balance today was in fact quite a productive day.

 

 

 

Ten Things I Did This Weekend

1. Went to the market and then had coffee with TB and SF
2. Spent quite a lot of time discussing the film we had all seen the previous week
3. Watched two foxes in the garden sunning themselves and then scarpering as soon as it started raining
4. Read very large chunk of Apeirogon which I think is very good
5. Realised I am going to have to spend several hours tomorrow finishing Apeirogon as bookclub is on Tuesday
6. Went to bed very late last night and had a nightmare which was so scary I had to keep the light on for half the night
7. Only took photographs of books
8. Half completed the Guardian Bank Holiday crossword
9. Listed a lot of books on Etsy
10. Had proper dinner two nights in a row

 

Summer's End

I dreamt last night that I arrived in Spain to start my walking holiday and I had forgotten to bring my walking boots so I had to frantically work out a way of getting home. "Home" in my dreams is often my mother's house.  I am feeling a little anxious about my holiday as this will be the first walking holiday I've had since I damaged my knee and I am a little worried that I will find it quite difficult.  I am sure it will be fine and I am distracting myself by doing lots of Etsy stuff.   I've sold quite a few books over the past couple of days which is good but means lots of trips to the Post Office.

Today I met London Sister in Islington.  It was a perfect summer's day; bright and breezy with lots of sunshine but no humidity.  This has been a fairly miserable summer and the hot weather we have had has been really uncomfortable.  I have been checking the temperature in Santiago de Compostela and it is quite similar to London.  I think I might have to pack a jumper.  When walking it is much better if it is a little on the cool side.

I woke up much too early this morning and I am struggling to keep awake so I am going to bed now.

 

Too Late Too Late

It's much too late to write a blog post.  I went out this evening with SF to see a film.  Kneecap are a rap group from Belfast who sing in Irish and they have made a film which is exuberant, funny, sweaty and has some very unrealistic sex scenes.  It was very enjoyable and it was quite the experience to be in a crowded cinema surrounded by a very young Irish audience.  The amazing thing is that young Irish people just start talking  to you. At the end of the film the band and the film director did a question and answer session much to the delight of the audience.  I suspect this film might make it onto the foreign language shortlist for an Oscar.

My entire morning was taken up with Etsy stuff.  I sold nine books today and I had to make a special trip to the Post Office.  I was doing something quite complicated so I walked to a Post Office that is a little far away but the staff in it are very sensible and know what they are doing.   I really need to write my guide to Post Offices in South-East London and Central London.

Some of the books I sold today.

Pay It Forward

I spent all morning stocktaking Virago books and listing new books on Etsy.  I'm having a sale and I hope I can sell a few books this week and make some room on my shelves.  Time ran away from me and I was late leaving to go to the station. I'd arranged to meet friends at Tate Modern - I can't keep away from that place - and I was in danger of missing the train.  For some reason fewer trains are running at the moment from our station and if I'd missed the train I would have had to wait half an hour for the next one.  I got to the station and could see the train was already at the platform but I still had to climb up the stairs, cross the bridge and then run down the stairs in order to get to the platform.  I started running very slowly as last time I rushed to get a train at that station I damaged my knee.  As I was panting along I heard someone come running behind.  A young woman who looked only slightly fitter than me passed and said "We're going to get this train....I'm going to hold the door for you!"  She overtook me and managed to get to the train just as it seemed the doors were about to shut and, true to her word, she held the door for me so we both caught the train.

I got to Tate Modern early and read my book for 20 minutes and then I went to the Turbine Hall entrance where we had arranged to meet.  As always C and D were late and I spent my time people watching.  There is quite a slope from the entrance of the Turbine Hall down to the gallery and down one side is a very long set of shallow steps which children like running up and down.  I was leaning against the railing by the steps and a tiny boy barrelled past me and skipped down the steps.  His mum smiled at me and then started pushing his pram down the slope and I watched as the little boy almost disappeared from view.  By the time his mum got to the bottom of the slope the little boy had turned and was now running back up the steps.  I decided that I ahould intervene when he got close to me but he was much too fast  and he bolted past me. He then manoeuvred round the security guard and ran out the door.  His mother was nowhere  near the door so I went running after him.  I thought I'd lost him but the security guard could see that he was running up another flight of steps outside the gallery.  I went haring after him and managed to stop him and by this stage his mum was outside.  She was both grateful and embarrassed but I wasn't judging her as the child is clearly a future Olympic runner.

I think this is an example of what the young ones call paying it forward and also proof that Londoners do look out for each other.

A Visit to St Albans

So I visited St Albans for the second time in my life today.  I don't know why I left it so long.  I worked out that it took less time to get there than it usually  takes to get to Muswell Hill or Hampstead.

I went to the Ladybird book exhibition which I really enjoyed even if it was a little small.  The museum is advertising the exhibition as very suitable for families with children but despite it being school holidays there wasn't a single child to be seen.  All of the visitors looked like people who were old enough to have read these books when they were first published.  

After the museum I went to visit the Cathedral.  It isn't the most stunning English cathedral I've been but it is definitely worth visiting.  I especially liked the tiny chapel inside the cathedral which has a fan vaulted ceiling.   I also liked the little wooden animals carved on the  watching loft which is an elevated structure which was used as a viewpoint to watch pilgrims visiting the church in case they were up to no good.  I don't think it has been used for several hundred years.The other unusual feature of this cathedral is that the columns are covered in medieval paintings and even though they are very faded they are still interesting.  I didn't really get a sense of the town but it seemed quite affluent and it had quite a good Oxfam bookshop.  I am sorry to say despite my good intentions I was unable to leave the shop without buying  several books.