Answers in the comments, please: what is the collective noun for Dames? Mr. C. offers "a distinction of Dames", which is good, I think, but whatever you call them, here are twenty four Dames from the arts world who were attending a Diamond Jubilee Celebration of the Arts at the Royal Academy in London yesterday, and what an impressive, inspiring group of ladies they are.
Back row (from left to right): Evelyn Glennie, Kiri Te Kanawa, Jillian Sackler, Vivien Duffield, Liz Forgan, Emma Kirkby.
Miss Karen Anderson and Dr. Gareth Howlett were married.
Mr. C. and I went back to the cathedral this morning, the beauty of the day rivalling that of our special one twenty five years ago.
The trees are a little taller, but we haven't changed much at all - or so it feels.
Mr. C says, for the record, that he didn't realise he was signing up to dog ownership that day, but he's adapted pretty well (even to having one who 'smiles'), so I think we both got a good bargain.
Just a quick word prompted by all the wonderful comments on diaries in this post and this one. If you don't already know them you may be interested in reading two books by Alexandra Johnson, both of which I enjoyed a few years ago and would like to revisit: The Hidden Writer: Diaries and the Creative Life and Leaving a Trace: The Art of Transforming Life into Stories (copies available here). While the first 'illuminates the secret world of writers and their diaries' by taking as its subject seven female authors from Marjory Fleming to May Sarton, the second book is on keeping a journal and is both an inspirational and practical guide, whether you're a seasoned diary-keeper or are just starting out.
I'm so enjoying reading all the comments about fountain pens on Thursday's post, discovering new makes to investigate, and wondering about seeing whether I can get my Parker going again - it has a bent nib caused years ago by a colleague borrowing it to sign a document and dropping it on a hard floor (which vexed me) and though it worked alright for ages after that it then seized up.
Anyway, from pens to paper and specifically diaries. Over on Cornflower Books today you can see a few pictures of Edinburgh, the locations of some of the events of Kate Summerscale's new book Mrs Robinson's Disgrace: The Private Diary of a Victorian Lady. I'm giving away a copy of the book - enter the draw here - and as you'll see I'm asking about the habit of diary-keeping. Do you keep a diary, or have you ever done so? What function does it perform for you? Do you have a favourite make or type? Please put your name in the hat to win the book, or tell us a bit about your journal here.
There has been a lively correspondence in the paper of late on the use and appeal of fountain pens. Among those contributing are a registrar - required to use such a pen and 'registrar's ink', which never fades - and an army officer who as such was "expected to sign all correspondence using a fountain pen as a sign of mutual respect, not unlike the principle behind saluting". Others comment on the difference such a pen makes to their handwriting, and a mother writes that at her children's school, all those between the ages of eight and thirteen are forbidden from writing with anything else.
I'm glad to see there is still a healthy level of fountain pen usage as for my part forming letters with anything else (though I do like the 'flow' you can get with a pencil) is not nearly as satisfying an experience. There is something about the contact of nib on paper which allows for particular self-expression in the making of graceful lines and marks on the page. The act of writing in that way gives me pleasure - but then I'm a simple soul.
How about you? Any more committed fountain pen users among us?
"I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning."
J.B. Priestley.
That's a refreshing perspective with which to greet the day, I think, so if you're starting something, or having another try, may it go well for you.
(And thanks to Mr. C. for the unexpected gift of these flowers, my 'bit of magic' yesterday).
Correct me if I'm wrong, because I'm no expert when it comes to birds, but these are a pair of bullfinches - the less showy female at bottom right and the red-breasted male main picture and top right. They paused for a few minutes yesterday, perching on the rose outside our bedroom window and staying long enough for me to get the camera and snap them from well inside the room.
I've just been reading a novel in which birds feature, and as a scaredy cat where they are concerned, I must say that those St. Kildans with their reliance on seabirds for food, fuel, currency and more were tough, resourceful people.
Lovely fruit vinegars from Womersley, bought at Earthy but available online. We had a tasting today and even the sceptics here said they were quite delicious. The golden raspberry and apache chilli scored particularly highly but I love all three for the depth of their flavours and their versatility - on that subject, in The Home Handbook Rachel Simhon says that a sure cure for hiccups is to drink a teaspoon of vinegar; I tried it (with blackberry) and it worked!
The pair will be having a busy summer as they are taking part in the Proms for the first time, the programme featuring Wallace's commission, My Concerto in Ee, Lad. Joy!
For everyone who enjoyed Neil MacGregor's radio series A History of the World in 100 Objects (or the accompanying book), just in case you missed it his new series began on Radio 4 yesterday. Shakespeare's Restless World looks at 20 objects from Shakespeare's time to shed light on the preoccupations and pleasures of his audiences. The first episode, on Sir Francis Drake's circumnavigation medal (above), can be heard here, and as before, this is fascinating stuff.
Just a quick note to alert anyone who may have been trying to contact me that my email has gone haywire. I first noticed a problem with 'missing' messages a few weeks ago, that is a group of incoming ones vanished before I could read them, and then I heard that not all outgoing ones were reaching their destinations. Coupled with that I'm having frequent log-in problems, messages I've deleted or otherwise filed are being returned to the inbox, and much of the time the system is refusing to do what I ask it. Any attempts to solve these problems are frustratingly ineffective or short-lived.
Apologies to anyone who is waiting to hear from me as I try to restore order to chaos.
I like this picture from the back page of the current edition of Vogue: "'Rainbow Queen', a year's progression through the colour spectrum to discover Her Majesty's favourite shades'.
For everyone who expressed an interest in my NEAT 'regime', to put it far more grandly than such simple changes to habit warrant, here you are:-
It's all about moving as much as possible and thus sitting as little as possible. Dr. James Levine, who appears in the Horizon programme I referred to yesterday and who has done a great deal of research on this*, suggests you stand when you would otherwise sit and walk when you'd otherwise stand, and he's even developed a desk at standing height fixed to a treadmill so that working on a computer, etc., can be done in the optimum position and with some slowish movement thrown in.
My work is sedentary, and I normally spend many hours a day reading and writing and doing other computery things, all sitting down. As I type this, however, I'm standing, and while I won't do that all day, it breaks up the sitting periods. I've found I can read perfectly well while on my feet pacing back and fore, and I've got through several books in the last four weeks while in motion. If sitting is unavoidable then set a kitchen timer for however many minutes seems appropriate and when it rings, get up and move for a bit. I've been running up and down the stairs for no reason other than that, or deliberately interrupting the sitting time by going off and doing a physical chore, and it's made a huge difference, as I noted yesterday.
All it takes is a gentle start and then it becomes a virtuous circle: the more you move, the more energy you have which makes you want to move more ... and you get more done and that small sense of achievement gives you more energy, and so on and so on.
If you're doing housework - and that's a double bonus situation because you get a clean house and the benefits of the movement into the bargain - then do it to music if you can. Taking my cue from the programme again, I've found The Black Eyed Peas wonderful for this (though my children are bemused that I have it on continuous play, but it really works for me), and washing the floors has never been such fun!
What else? Well, you can knit perfectly well while standing, you can augment the ironing with some extra movement (music again) - though maybe not if anyone's watching, and yes, a fly on the wall in this house when I'm otherwise unobserved would be much amused. I acknowledge of course that working from home as I do gives me opportunities for all this which a less flexible working routine or environment might not, but anyone can adopt the basic principles in one way or another.
One more thing - in the programme Dr. Levine said that when you sit the body idles, and he listed some of the physiological changes which occur then. I've found I can sense the point at which my system hits idle mode, and I'm not talking about the mid-afternoon torpor which we can be prone to, but a much more subtle change of gear after just a short while of being relatively motionless. When I notice I'm at that point, I get up and move.
I hope that's helpful - as I said before, it's basic stuff, but it's making a big difference.
*That's a very interesting - if not alarming - article.