A few weeks ago Elaine Canham mentioned Whistles in the Wind as one of the blogs she enjoys, the penalty being to list ten things about myself, and then add ten other blogs I visit.
Ten things (about me)…
Apparently I schedule my blog posts to give the illusion of being out of bed at ‘the same time as normal people’.
I didn’t pass my driving test until my thirties. Let’s just say I tried. Even now parking in company is difficult, particularly if my partner ‘gets out to help’ by hovering on the pavement in a not-particularly-engaged way saying, ‘You’re fine, you just have to straighten up a bit’.
My current favourite drink might be a Tom Cobbler – rum, apple juice and cinnamon – though I’m not sure it’s really a cobbler. That’s the name it was given at the music festival where I discovered it, the downside being I now have several CDs by mediocre acts I’ll never play again.
I look like an eighty-five-year-old with mild incontinence – at least that’s what the staff at my dad’s nursing home tell me: “You’re exactly like him!”
Apparently I once took a pregnant woman’s taxi. I’ve pointed out that the friend in question protested that being pregnant didn’t make her an invalid and that she wanted some sea air on the way to the restaurant, but the bald fact remains.
Back in the 19th century, so my brother discovered while researching the family tree, a great-great-great grandma (not sure how many of those are needed) was a Yorkshire chartist who organised a village rally against the coronation of William IV. She also delayed officials on the way to break up a protest meeting by giving them ‘a roll in the snow’ (not of the amorous variety). Perhaps when I’m vilifying the hypocrisy of the Waitrose weekly paper, over a ‘Heston Blumenthal for Waitrose’ Earl Grey hot cross bun, it’s her voice that’s speaking.
I always take a liking for dogs as a sign of innate goodness.
I love stationery… cards, paper, fountain pens, blotting paper, etc. but don’t use them enough. (There are lots of things I don’t actually use much but need to know they are there.)
The most embarrassing experience of my life was aged 18 in a cinema in Paris. (This is not salacious.) There was a rather large, elderly usherette, not unlike Les Dawson, and few seats left. She counted the rest of my friends into the remaining seats and cut me off before strolling purposefully to the other side of the cinema, where she bellowed, in French, to no-one in particular.
The cinema was now full to capacity so I wasn’t sure whether she was demonstrating emergency exits or selling ice cream. I was expecting to spend the next two hours playing with the pigeons outside until I became aware of increasing tittering from the audience. Finally, there was a dramatic bang as the usherette flapped open a tiny seat on the far wall, gesticulated wildly, and the penny dropped I was meant to crouch my six-foot-plus frame over there. I had a walk of shame down to the front, past the screen, while the audience applauded my stupidity and the usherette smugly lapped up adoration for humiliating the stupid English boy.
It was a Woody Allen film.
Isn’t that enough?
Blogs I enjoy… taking the recent-visited ones from my lap-top history list only … so here are the warm rays of the Sunshine Award for those “who positively and creatively inspire others in the blogosphere”… of course, no-one has to go and and add ten things of their own, it’s ‘just for fun’, most have had loads of nods already so probably quite blasé by now, but it’s Christmas…
A box of delights: words woven with the skill of the mice in The Tailor of Gloucester.
À la Blague
I imagine the mention of a ‘Sunshine Award’ would make this blogger hurl projectile vomit, and I’ll remove mention on request, but this is a fine, dry vintage covering modern life and beyond. Fascinating stuff about the artist Carel Weight too.
A prolific, inspiring round-up of mid-century related illustration and design.
The Grass is Dancing
A British ex-pat writer who upped and left for life in Sweden, is clearly having a whale of a time, but making the rest of us feel better about still shopping in Morrison’s by pointing out the odd awkward moment.
Some stunning images of landscape from somewhere in Wessex.
Rides through ancient landscape with a Garner-ish atmosphere.
Diana J Hale
Immersive art with daydreaming skies and rippled water, fascinating journeys through art in the landscape.
A writer covering work, motherhood and a passion for science fiction with natural, direct observation on creativity.
Paula Marie Fay
A studying illustrator whose work echoes wild and windy landscapes; lovers of 60s/70s children’s illustration are sure to enjoy.
Christmas Eve update: Have this morning discovered this rather brilliant one devoted to film analysis with some great explorations of British folk horror film and TV…
Celluloid Wicker Man