Random indulgences...

I don't know what got into me this morning.  Maybe the sun filtering through the curtains this morning and knowing I had my house to myself for the next couple of weeks....  The day started, hunkering down in bed for a read through the first 10 pages of 8 different Oscar winning scripts (bought home from my film course). Really interesting to see the different writing styles, but also how each script captured your attention so early on.

On rising, I wandered down to the kitchen in my nightie to make a megabrew coffee and have a large slice of coconut/raspberry cake for breakfast.  What the Hell, right? After that, settled down in front of the telly (with coffee and cake) to watch Ingmar Bergmans 'Wild Strawberries' - I recorded it ages ago during the Bergman Film season and hadn't gotten around to watching it.

Feeling suitable artistically satiated, I threw some clothes on and went into the garden with a ladder to scrump plums through my neighbours fence. The damn things are rotting on the tree, but the neighbours don't pick them.  Got all I could from my limited access, and while I had the ladder out, climbed up to refill the birdfeeder in the pear tree (the one that has been sititng, waiting to be refilled for the last 6 months or so).  Did a bit of additional random gardening -  watering, picking courgettes (which are fast approaching marrow status) and tomatoes, which are just starting to come on. Thinks: the apples look like they are almost ready now too...

Now it's 10am. Time for some shopping. This day is shaping up to be a doozy - culminating in evening races and a Blondie concert at the Epsom racecourse this evening. Hoorah for Thursdays!

The Great Defrost

What is it with me and cold appliances? I went to check out something in my trusty, garage based upright freezer this morning, to find that I had somehow left it ajar in the weekend.  Result? It had gone into overdrive, completely icing up around the works, and almost all the food had defrosted and was sitting in puddles.

All the blackberries I had carefully picked and frozen last season, had defrosted and leaked their purple juices down through the shelves, pooling at the bottom and dribbling out onto the garage floor through the crack in the door.

So I'm now in overdrive.  Everything was still at fridge temp, so I've gone into a meat cooking frenzy - 2 roasts in the oven and about 4 dozen sausages currently parboiling and about to hit the barbeque. Am psyching myself up to a level of meat eating over the next few days, that Atkins himself would be proud of. The rest can be refrozen after cooking. 

But in the meantime, a full, extra large binbag of unrecoverable food has had to hit the bin (literally 10 mins after this weeks rubbish collection - my luck). A big clean up job awaits...

Pigeon Post

As I sat ruminating over my coffee this morning, I looked outside to the 2 fat, healthy wood pigeons, regular visitors to my garden, conversing together on the line. While he was eager, she was giving him the hairy eyeball, saying 'not on your life mate!'

They really do seem like a middle aged couple - quite a soap opera at times.  I am not a great fan of pigeons, but this Mr and Mrs are welcome visitors (although they tend to poo down the fence, and occasionally, on the freshly painted decking). Yes -  two plump, conventionally minded suburban birds who tolerate my presence (while not encouraging it.) 

Quite a contrast to their inner city cousins.  I do feel sorry for these wretched, scraggy, diseased things, but I find them quite repellent, limping round as they do, fighting over scraps and moulting copiously. And of course, looking to their country relatives, they are different again. Bigger I think. More nervy creatures, hanging out in large groups - possibly with one eye out for the hunters gun.

I'm sure there is an epic story in this. A Watership Down vibe....

Ithaca

When you start on your journey to Ithaca,
then pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
Do not fear the Lestrygonians
and the Cyclopes and the angry Poseidon.
You will never meet such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your body and your spirit.
You will never meet the Lestrygonians,
the Cyclopes and the fierce Poseidon,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not raise them up before you.

Then pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many,
that you will enter ports seen for the first time
with such pleasure, with such joy!
Stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and corals, amber and ebony,
and pleasurable perfumes of all kinds,
buy as many pleasurable perfumes as you can;
visit hosts of Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from those who have knowledge.

Always keep Ithaca fixed in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for long years;
and even to anchor at the isle when you are old,
rich with all that you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would never have taken the road.
But she has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not defrauded you.
With the great wisdom you have gained, with so much experience,
you must surely have understood by then what Ithacas mean.

K. P. Kavafis (C. P. Cavafy)



Making Movies

I went to a Raindance Saturday Film school session in the weekend (very approriate name as it rained all day). One of those spontaneous, off the cuff decisions. Exposing myself to new ideas, putting myself in unfamiliar territory etc etc.

Was very interesting - full of thrusting young indie film makers and aspiring actors.  I was particularly interested in in the screenwriting section on the days agenda and it gave me great food for throught as well as some simple tools and structural guidelines.

However, the directing section has really knackered my TV viewing for the moment - I am sitting there analysing camera shots and angles, and how artificial the sets ups are for that 'great shot'. It certainly confirms that screen art is more about interpretation than representation...

All in the Family

My little brother is in town and staying with me for the first time in many years. And although we see each other every year when I go back to NZ, somehow it's different when he's over here.

Of course there are the inevitable memories and sharing of, often unsavoury stories..... Camping in the rain, grotty flats we have lived in, exes, aging relatives etc.  And despite our mature years, we still laugh at poo jokes.

He seems to have forgiven me for feeding him worms (not long after this photo was taken - him in Grandmas arms, me looking winsomely at the camera and wondering why he is getting all the attention). And for persuading him that his glass of milk would taste so much better with a liberal dosing of salt. And using him as the whipping boy everytime I was out of sorts (Dad tells me off, I pass it on. Grants only recourse was to kick the cat, and he was too much of a softie for that.)

Of course things got better as we got older.  I think I spoiled him rotten later on, although our memories seem to diverge here. Never mind. Little brothers, like herpes, are for life...