Baby born

The phone rang at 7 o'clock this morning. Baby born at 1.45 a.m. She weighs 8lb 11oz. Mother and father are home and resting. We didn't tell J&R immediately, cos they were still in bed asleep but the phone woke J so she came down and asked what the news was.


Lunch time: there are photos of mother and baby on the family web site. It appears near the top of a google search list if you put in two of our surnames. Big brother and sister have gone home to meet their new sister.

No news of baby

Baby is now more than 10 days overdue, so eldest step daughter went into Stoke Mandeville hospital this morning to have it induced, while older sister and brother stay with us but we still have no news.

India trip booked

We've booked to visit Ahmedabad in time for Zenobya's grandchild's navjote on 30th December this year. That's a parsi thread ceremony that happens when the child is around 7 to 12 years old. Her son, Kaizad, emailed about a year ago:

"see if u can make it to india in december next year, would be grt to have u with us on such an occasion."

It's 31 years since I was there with Vera McNamara - I wonder where she is now - I lost touch when Australia had its postal strike.

Husband and I will fly out to Ahmedabad 27th December, leaving the 'children' in charge of the house and each other. Son and daughter will have to get themselves back to uni in January as we shall still be away. After the ceremony, we are going to Kerala for a tour round Kochin, Munnar, Periyar and other places, staying in hotels, a cottage on a tea estate and a houseboat. I think it looks wonderful on this web page.

And I get ayuvedic massages, any massage pleases me, and husband will have the chance for massages too, and we get to see the wild life. (I could give the tigers a miss though - I'm quite happy to see them from a distance).

Our trip isn't quite the same because we are arranging our own transport (and a right hassle that has been - the JetAirways web site doesn't show you everything so we got down the wrong names on the tickets twice and had to cancel and rebook. And we couldn't book the internal flights on line, but only over the phone, but they don't take credit cards over the phone. It is cheaper to arrange your own flights but easier if you get an agent to take on the hassle.

More or less

Step son Tim is about to start a radio programme called "More or Less" on radio 4 from Monday. Do listen.

No news

For those of you who know that there's a baby due, there's no news. As soon as there is, I'll let you know.

Bedtime rituals

I wonder what people do when it's time to leave company and go to bed.

Yesterday son-in-law, eldest step-daughter and I had this discussion about how we say good night.

• I now like to sneak off without bothering anyone, not draw attention to myself, but there was a time when I'd say 'goodnight'. My parents brought me up to say 'goodnight and god bless'.
• Late husband used say, "I'm going to bed now; you can come if you like."
• ESD says that when she was little, her mother used to get the three of them to say good night prayers, but that somehow that habit disappeared when they were older, perhaps when they moved house. That reminded me that we used to do something similar: prayers next to the bed when I was very small, and later we used to kneel in the sitting room to say family prayers. Like ESD's family they were along the lines of "God bless Nanna and Aunty Thing and ...", so almost a ritual.
• S-in-L says that he has to say 'good night' to everyone, and may be hug them. The conversation started from his expression of love and care for his son.
• S-in-L's Italian father gets very upset if someone goes to bed without saying 'goodnight', perhaps because his own father was so undemonstrative, and would retire without a word.
  
  These rituals might be a continuation of a family tradition, or a reaction to a tradition that someone didn't like. What did you do? What do you do for a bedtime ritual?

Autumn

The garden is beautiful. Here are our first vine crops. Son tasted one of the grapes last weekend and said they were really sour, but then they were still green. He understood the term 'sour grapes'.

Holiday photos

Here is the promised photo of the fountain of shame, with the various figures, which I assume are Roman and Greek gods.

Then, something that didn't get into husband's diaries earlier, was the puppet show. Apparently puppet making is a dying skill in Sicily, but there was a time when the makers vied to make the biggest puppets, which they then used to tell old Sicilian tales, such as this one that we went to see about brave knights who killed a dragon and all sorts of other invading baddies - probably not now politically correct - the story of Rinaldo and Orlando (Roland and Oliver).

See this blog for a good description.

And here is a very short video of one of the many fights in the story.

Adrian's diary again

Sept 25 (Tuesday)
Transferred to Palermo by coach; a rainy day with the mountains obscured - we went back past Enna where the inhabitants must live in the clouds for much of the year.

In the afternoon we had a guided tour, by Paolo Lungo, of the main sites of Palermo. Fontana Pretoria, just opposite our hotel, is also known as the 'Fountain of shame' (di vergogna) for the many nude statues next to a convent. photos later

Then on to the Cathedral via back streets - a Norman-Arabic exterior with a much remodelled interior now in Spanish Baroque. Heard story of Saint Rosalia whose bones 'saved' Palermo from the plague and who is celebrated in Palermo in mid July.

Next stop was the Royal Palace with its Palace Chapel rich in biblical mosaics - still visible in part under a restoration programme following a recent earthquake. After losing our guide momentarily we continued through the narrow streets or alleys of old Palermo, now being refashioned after damage and desertion following WWII. We arrived at a street marked 'Mercato Ballaro, with tempting displays of fresh produce (bought some black olives before catching up with the group). There followed several more churches at which we were competing with bridal ceremonies, comings and goings; at one we stopped to watch the bride's arrival amid a veritable scrummage of cars coming and gong. Before that there was already a ceremony.

and finally to the church of the Marterano (inventors of marzipan).

Sept 25 Wednesday
By public transport to Monreale - after a walk up to the Piazzi Indipendenza via a puppet theatre with a show promised for the evening. l ater see pictures and home web for sound and film

Monreale is a fabulous Norman Cathedral decorated all over the interior in mosaics telling the biblical stories. We also explored a bit of the roof which afforded a panorama of a lovely cloister area with elegant colonnades, before taking us over the roof of the cathedral for a panorama of the Conca d'Ora in which Palermo nestles. On the return journey we detoured to the Cappucina Catacombs, a rather ghoulish display of relatively recent corpses (less that 200 years in most cases) in their funeral garb. They were classified: priests, monks, professional people, women, babies. Without explanation or obvious historical significance, the point of the display escaped us.

Selinunte, Agrigento, Siracuse, Palermo

Found an internet cafe so thought I would use it. Here is what husband has diaried:

Selinunte 17-18th September

We took the train to get to Stansted as the flight was at 11.45 and made contact with the Ramblers rep at check in to reassure ourselves as we had booked to travel separately. Some of the flight was a bit turbulent, but we arrived ahead of time and joined the group (24) for the bus journey to Selinunte. We found a few members younger than ourselves - we had been concerned at first sight, that we'd be the babies of the group by 10-15 years. We arrived at about11pm local time and ate and went straight to bed - no we didn't - we chatted up the barman and drank limoncello for a while.

The following day we were briefed and went off to view the Greek temples and remains of Selinunte: one reasonably complete (re-erected?), one with most of one wall standing and several piles of huge stones after earthquakes. (H climbed some and got told off by a guard, so he was luckier than one of us, who climbed and fell and scraped her leg). A very small museum also indicated use of the site as watch tower during the 17th-18th century as a warning mechanism against Barbary pirates. We ate a picnic lunch and then returned to the bay outside before returning to the hotel via a walk along the (oily) beach and a short cut through olive groves, courtesy of a helpful farmer.

Agrigento 19th September

A bit of rain overnight, same still around in the morning when we assembled by the coach for transfer to Agrigento. Arriving before the hotel would let us in to our rooms, we spent time by the pool having coffee and discussing the plant life ' (see photos later) before wandering off to have lunch in the Tratoria al Templi. After lunch, we went up into the 'old' town stopping at a convent (Santi Spiritu) to admire the stucco and partake of the sisters' almond cakes. The second stop waqs at Sta Maria du Greci, where the Greek building which was the preceding building was visible around and below the glass floor. The cathedral was closed!

In the evening we found an enoteca nearby (we had to escape a noisy crowded wedding reception at the hotel).

Sept 20

Went down to the temple area by bus and browsed for a couple of hours before returning to the town. We bought water etc at the supermarket and a bottle of red wine made by Sedara at Donnafugato (q.v. The Leopard) (I'll add links later) Then retired to sample the wares at Spizzulio, the enoteca we had visited last night, where we again had the sole attention of Carmelo, the sommelier. Had a wonderful plate of Sicilian cheeses arranged in clockwise order of piquancy see photo , a shrimp risotto with a rose and a moscalo di Siracusa, grace à Carmelo.

Sept 21

A bus trip to Eraclea Minoa, a Greek - even Minoan settlement with a wonderful position on a headland of white rock. Wandered round the site with lovely butterflies (Scarce Swallowtail, which is neither scarce nor possessed of a tail) and an orange winged specimen where the tip of the wings shaded to brown with a pure white stripe. Also enjoyed watching the shepherd with his flock of big-eared sheep.

Then went down to the beach for an excellent lunch at a beach cafe (Sabbia d'Oro) followed by a stroll or paddle along the beach to the headland- white chalk, banded, and sculpted into smooth waves by sand and wind. (Some strolled but others stayed and swam and sunbathed on the clean sandy, almost empty beach).

Sept 22

Transfer to Siracuso via Enna and Villa Romana di Caslae (vicino Piazza Armerina). The first stop, Enna, was a town situated on a hill top miles above everywhere, accessed by a vertiginous round with much advance warning from the bus-drivers horn.

The Roman villa was an enormous building with extensive mosaics including a famous erotic one. The mosaics were superb but ongoing restoration work meant that the presentation left something to be desired.

Went for a locational walk around the Teardrop Church - a modern concrete landmark following the acceptance as miraculous of the tears of a panted Madonna.

Sept 23

Strolled with wife to see and go into the Madonna delle Lacrima church before breakfast. Then spent the morning at the Archeological Park opposite the hotel ' Springs, Greek theatre, the quarry area (Chatonmie, roman theatre, etc. Found a place for the group to eat in the evening before a quick look at the arch museum and lunch.

After lunching walked (because all the places we tried to buy bus tickets from were closed) into Ortigia, the island which was the centre of the ancient Greek city. The cathedral - the oldest continuously used place of worship - was built into a Greek temple, the columns of which now formed the outside wall of the church - the nave had columns cut from the continuous inner wall of the temple.

Then staggered from cafe to cafe along the streets and promenade of the old town which would take a day or more to explore fully.

Finding a bus back was problematical and I was in the dog-house for waving on a bus full of fellow ramblers and having to wait 10 minutes for another - but we got back before the rest because they were on the wrong bus.

We had a good sociable meal in the evening at the restaurant on the other side of the archaeological park.

Sept 24 Monday

An outing by train (return by bus) to Noto, a small town rebuild in the Sicilian Baroque style after the earthquake of 1693 by Rosario Gaghàrdi. A rather cramped hillside ridge location meant a shortage of places to sit and wonder at the ornate unity of the buildings in a strongly coloured sandstone. We then recirculated looking for the most ridiculously ornate set of balcony supports, see photos later, but quickly found a place near the Duomo which had no real competitor.

Went for a solo stroll in the evening to snap an abandoned steam loco at the station and make another tour of Ortigia in a successful search for us, of a place to eat in the evening although perilously short of cash to pay for it. (it didn't take plastic)

Abandoning my babies

I finished my 16000 word dissertation on time, just, despite some last minute traumas. Now I can relax - no I can't because I still have some tutoring work to mark and some to prepare, and when we get back from holiday I have a viva on my research.

Husband and I are having a 10 day holiday in Sicily soon, abandoning teenagers at home. Please would any kind mature relative / friend ring them /drop in on them / check them.

Or rather please check the house, that they aren't going to leave it wide open to that cheeky cat or opportunistic burglars. Or may be they'll burn it down, or just run the water or electricity uneconomically. Or they don't answer the door to the post man, or do answer the door to someone who isn't the gas meter man.

Wish I weren't going away....

Cooking efforts

My 19-year-old son pays rent when he's home from university, but hasn't been able to get a job and is feeling poor. He's also bored. So we have negotiated that he should do some of the cooking. This pleases him as he wants to learn to cook, and he gets a reduced rent in exchange. It pleases me as I have a full time occupation and don't want to have to rush home to cook.

Today was the first meal - shepherd's pie and it tasted delicious. Congratulations, son!

When I got in at about 7.30 I found hungry husband prowling about like jungle cat about to pounce while he watched his food s-l-o-w-l-y cooking. Poor old son started preparing at six o'clock because he hasn't done it before and didn't know how long potatoes would take to boil, especially when you don't cut them down first. If husband hadn't been so hungry he would have enjoyed the show.

This goes to show that there's more to preparing a meal than getting the right ingredients, right size of pan or dish and right recipe. You also have to remember the people you intend to feed, and recognise that persons prowling in the kitchen are likely to be hungry and hungry people get cross. And teachers of learner cooks probably have to have something to nibble in the corner.

City of Angels

Went to see this musical "City of Angels" yesterday, put on by Songbird Productions. It's an adventurous enterprise produced with skill and intelligence by South Bucks teenagers.

The web site immediately tells you there's professional ability here - what other volunteer, amateur production gets a web site together in only a few months, and a web site that competently takes your bookings, lets you pay and sends you the tickets? That augured well for the musical.

The musical didn't disappoint. Despite the occasional spot light of a foot rather than a head, and the too loud music so I couldn't hear the words, the acting, the set design, the costume and the singing were a very high standard.

Donna/ Oolie was played by Becky Harrison who has as big and beautiful a voice as her bosoms. Stine was played by Ed Bernstone whose acting stood out as totally professional - you believed he was the character and couldn't imagine him being someone else ever, although he was only a few feet away from us on the stage, or the floor actually, because this was in the school hall.

Oh and watch Matt Goodwin. This Queen's scout is a many talented man. There's this scene where the trollops are mooching around and a big blonde bird in a long black dress strides across the room too, perhaps in charge, then you do a double take and wonder what sort of woman that is. Then he scratches his balls!

There are some photos in the Bucks Herald. Hope more towns get teenagers that do this sort of thing. May Songbird Productions last!

things for bright boys

DON'T give this book to a boy! I bought "211 things a bright boy can do" anticipating it as a present for my 11 year old nephew, thinking that things like skimming stones and making sledges would be good occupations. However, when my 19-year-old son borrowed it, I learned what a mistake it would be to give it to a younger chap.

Why? Take for example as early as page 13 where the writer explains how and why to take snuff - not something I should encourage my nephew to do. Another activity is to guess a woman's bra size, something that my son has now been practising.

It'll be brilliant for the older boy or nearly young man - hence my son's pleasure in it (and I hope he follows its advice on how to mow the perfect lawn for us). It would delight a smutty-thinking 14-year-old but I'll be in trouble with his parents if I give it to their 11-year-old.

Eye of the needle

We visited the Forbidden Corner, taking aged Aunty E with us.

But we hadn't really realised just what a complicated maze it is. It's not just a maze where you wander round hedges, shouting to get out, and it's more than a garden where you admire the scent of the lavender. The whole thing is a maze and a puzzle, so if you wander out of the woods or away from the gardens you could find yourself paddling in streams, or exploring caves. It wasn't really where we should have gone with aged Aunty.

We found the underground world with a cobbled passage, lit only by the light in a door way at the end of the passage. It seemed a bit damp, so deeming it wiser to avoid AA falling we turned round and tried another route, but only ended up coming back to this cobbled passage. This second time, nobody else was blocking the light from the doorway at the end, so we carefully went down, down, down... Er. It was an illusion! As you got closer, the roof came lower, the passage narrower, you couldn't turn round, you had to go single file, and you had to bend down, then s q u e e z e through this doorway, which I duly did. And when I got out, I realised it was really a window. And there was AA behind me, trying to get through. She bent down, she stuck her walking stick through, handed me her handbag, and rearranged her limbs. By now, we had a queue of people behind AA, who didn't realise that you couldn't get out of this hole. My husband behind her, was making helpful suggestions, like "Legs first!" But that works no better than when you're having a baby that decides to come legs first and she just got more jammed. No. It had to be head and shoulders first, and Aunty's shoulders were just not going to go through. So there was husband pushing her bum, and me pulling her stick!

In the end, we all realised that the only way we would get her through would have been turn her sideways and post her like a letter through a letterbox. So I gave her back her handbag, and she and husband reversed back up the tunnel. I don't know how they got all the people out of the way, because I wasn't going back in that way, thank you and it took me nearly an hour to find them again. If you look at this web page, you'll find a picture of the hole.

They call that particular folly "The Eye of the Needle" so now we are joking about what AA has in common with camels, that she can't get through the eye of the needle! Fortunately, she was laughing as much as me. Great fun!

Great place. Teenage son and daughter explored and found all the clues.

Richmond

We've come up to Richmond to visit my parents. The town still has a selection of small shops, privately owned and run, though we are sad to see that Mr Coleman and Mr Morris's has closed and is to be reopened as a WH Smith's. That will ring the death knell for the little paper shop further up the square.

I see there are plans to twin the town with an American one at Annapolis. Mayor Ellen Moyer nicely describes our Richmond at her blogspot.

Visitors from Austria

We have two teenage girls from Austria staying with us for a fortnight. They are with a group of about 30 teenagers who get farmed out to a number of host families around the town. We provide them with bed, breakfast, packed lunch and supper. Each day they go either to English classes or out on trips with their flamboyant teacher. FT arrived yesterday in big white hat, bright red suit with mini skirt, bare brown legs, shod in high heels, with pink fish net tight ankle socks.

This morning the class was off to Thorpe Park for the day. Daughter packed their lunches and we walked the girls to the bus stop. When the coach arrived, FT gave me a big hug, and then invited daughter to go to Thorpe Park with them! And she's gone. She's got no sandwiches, no mobile, no money, probably no handkerchief - and she does have hay fever. I hope she has a wonderful time.

Funeral

Yesterday I went to my cousin's funeral.

The burial service was before the memorial service, and only immediate family were at that. At the memorial however, there were more than 70 people. They included family: cousins (my brother, me & my son), his ex-brother-in-law who had worked in his business with him for years, his wife's family, school friends from the 60s, parents of children that their children had gone to school with, skiing friends, including the president or head or chief of the British skiing institution. I thought that showed how much they cared.

People talk about celebrating someone's life, but this service really did start as a celebration. It started with the hymn that they'd started their married life with in 1976, Praise my soul, the king of heaven. It makes me smile to think of it. Lucky them - they had thirty years together. His brother described him faffing about with his first car, then read a poem of Gerald Manley Hopkins, The Windhover. Hopkin's poetry is so difficult to read; He'd tried to learn it by heart.

There was a slide show of pictures of him from baby to child to man, husband and father and ended rather splendidly with films of him skiing, stopping to face the camera, then skiing down the hill away from us. His brother-in-law talked about him and a friend played a guitar piece - I recognised it from the sixties or seventies but would someone who was there please tell me what it is called.

The readings were two of my favourites: Ecclesiastes 3: 1-9 and the prayer of St Francis read by his elder daughter.

The sit-down meal was with a full menu including red or white wine. Someone must have been very busy and organised to have arranged all that. Thank you to them because it was good to see my relatives.

The grave is in the non-conformist, not the Catholic section, of the graveyard. This means that the magnificent view is out over the hill sides, towards the sea, which you can just see between the hills.

Later I'll put a couple of other photos in our family web site.

Great teenagers

Isn't it wonderful what questions your children can ask?

At lunch table 17 year old asked how I was analysing the data so I explained that I'd transcribed the interviews and then had devised some codes to put against chunks of speech, but that when I came to apply them they didn't work so I created other codes of climate, process and structure and subdivided those when I came across ideas that reminded me of something in the literature, like conflict suggesting political elements. I didn't know I could verbalise what I was doing and it was great to have to answer the question.

Then the 17-Y-O, was saying something about "but that's only opinion, not facts" so she and 19-year-old brother got into debate of researching opinions and facts.

I'm so glad they're interested. They are going to have three more years of me doing this, and someone has to read my work before I give it to my supervisors.

Cheeky cat

Husband took cat to vet, but found nothing wrong. However he does have a chip, and he is a she, registered in Putney in 1998. She is called Cheeky.

Her name suits.