Meanwhile in Japan ...

 

After months of planning and antici...pation, Tish and Jun made it to Japan yesterday. They have two weeks to explore the country with Monkey Sensei. 

So they jumped right in and had fugu (puffer fish sushi) for dinner:

Then ice cream for breakfast on the Shinkansen to Hiroshima:

I commented on the silly faces so of course they now pull silly faces in all the photos.

I wish I was there too, but now I only have seven months to plan and anticipate till it's my trip.

Stay safe. Be kind. Enjoy other people's holidays vicariously.

Peregrinations

I have spent the last couple of weeks trying to get a grip on my house: books to the charity shop, lots of stuff in the bin, and quite a few things sold on Vinted. All it seems to have achieved is a few gaps on the bookcase. I will plod on with it.

'Four Seasons in Japan' by Nick Bradley was a graduation gift for Monkey sensei, that I don't think she read. It is a story within a story, of Flo, working as a translator in Japan, who finds a book on the subway and decides to make it her next project, and has to track down the somewhat elusive author for permission. It is also the book she is translating, a quiet tale of the relationship between a young man and his grandmother, both struggling to make sense of the death of his father. Lovely book, read it for some peace of mind.

I read about Kathleen Jamie a few weeks ago when she was featured on the 'Poem of the Week' in the Guardian and the library had 'Findings', which I have hugely enjoyed. It is a selection of writings about her observations and experiences of the natural world, all happening as part of her everyday life of caring for her family and ill husband. I particularly liked the one concerning Skara Brae on Orkney, having visited it myself about 40 years ago, but here is a little bit about peregrine falcons:

"By Easter Sunday, the run of hot weather had broken. A bitter east wind blew from the sea. As is the custom, we hard-boiled some eggs and the youngsters painted them and we went to the park to roll the eggs downhill. Few people were there, though, and we soon dispersed. I saw the male peregrine in the afternoon being pursued around the cliff by a single crow. The crow veered off and went to sit in a tree, but it must have left the peregrine piqued, because he circled alone two or three times more, stooping as though in scorn at whatever happened to be flying beneath him. A jackdaw jinked away with its life. Then the peregrine flew up and away over the hill, and was silhouetted for a long moment against the misty sunlight. An hour later he was back. On another ledge, six feet below, was what looked like a burst cushion pigeon-pink-grey." (p.37)

'The Authority Gap' by Mary Ann Sieghart was another of those books that is so depressing because you get laid out for you the systematically misogynistic structures and attitudes that exist within society that we are literally just scratching the surface of. I sometimes wonder if the suffragettes had any idea what they started by simply asking for the vote, and if they knew how long the road was going to be. Here we are 100 years later ... and the fight goes on. I skim read some of it, both because it was depressing, but also because it got a bit repetitive; seemingly endless examples of women being demeaned, belittled and ignored, even when occupying the most senior positions in business and government. Plucked at random, the experience of Laura Bates (Everyday Sexism Project):

"Bates was once invited to give a presentation to a group of MPs, who were meeting specifically to deal with gender equality, and therefore, you might assume would all take the issue seriously. 'I'd been invited to give evidence to them because of the fact that I had curated the largest dataset of its kind that had ever existed of women's experiences of gender inequality. I spoke at length about various forms of harassment, of abuse and sexual violence. And at the end of this meeting, an MP in a very important position came up to me and quietly told me that he felt that I was very "glass half empty", that I had a very negative approach. And that if I really wanted to make change, I should think carefully about ways to make my message more appealing to men. And he felt I sounded quite haranguing.'" (p.56-7)

We all so enjoyed 'Convenience Store Woman' (my goodness, six years ago!) so I found 'Earthlings' by Sayaka Murata ... and kind of wish I hadn't. Monkey Sensei did warn me that it was going to be weird. That was quite an understatement. I am not sure if I would even recommend it. Natsuke, a seemingly ordinary girl,  comes to believe she is an alien, but that was not the worrying part. The horrible treatment by her family and abuse by a teacher was much more distressing. The close bond she forms with her cousin on the annual family trip to her grandparents turns her life upside down, and even the means by which she copes with societies demands of her can't save her. It's like watching a car crash in slow motion.

"My town is a factory for the production of human babies. People live in nests packed closely together. It's just like the silkworm room at Granny's house. The nests are lined up neatly in rows, and each contains a breeding pair of male and female humans and their babies. I live in one of these nests too." (p.35)

Let me end with a poem by Kathleen Jamie (taken from 'Other Ways to Leave the Room', a small collection containing poems by Kathleen, Don Patterson and Nick Laird)

The Green Woman

Until we're restored to ourselves

by weaning, the skin jade

only where it's hidden

under jewellery, the areoles still tinged,

- there's a word for women like us

It's suggestive of the lush

ditch, or even an ordeal,

- as though we'd risen,

tied to a ducking-stool,

gasping, weed-smeared, proven.

Stay safe. Be kind. Take your overdue books back to the library.

Slugs and Worms

I have not been out in the garden much this summer. My neglect makes me sad. I did a big chunk of sorting out on Sunday, removing all the dead stuff and moving things around. Then I treated myself to some late summer flowering things from Rosybee. While cutting back shoots on the bay tree stump that refuses to die I came across a couple of slugs having a fun time ... yes, the interweb says this is what slug sex looks like. We've previously had bee sex and beetle sex on this blog so why not.

Having emptied the garden waste compost at the weekend I decided to tackle the worm house.

This is the worms' magic trick ... now you see them ...

 ... now you don't ...

Birds-eye view of the yard for 2024 (previous view 2021 and 2022)

Stay safe. Be kind. Water those pots, even if it's raining.

Outline

Another book where I am very late to the party; Rachel Cusk's 'Outline' was published a decade ago. I picked it up in Waterstones recently because of one of those employee recommendations that they have around the shelves, thinking I should find out what the fuss was all about. I was not disappointed. It is one of those books that sneaks up on you quietly. Nothing much happens in it, just a woman having conversations with people, but you are left with the feeling of having understood her. It is an intense period of observation, like a fly-on-the-wall documentary. 

Here she is having dinner with a friend, but they are discussing a previous dinner, so you get this sense of history to their relationship:

"And indeed, being so immersed, I did not notice that Paniotis went away from our encounter feeling that his life had been a failure, any more than a mountain notices a climber that loses his footing and falls down one of its ravines. Sometimes it has seemed to me that life is a series of punishments for such moments of unawareness, that one forges one's own destiny by what one doesn't notice or feel compassion for; that what you don't know and don't make the effort to understand will become the very thing that you are forced into knowledge of. While I spoke Paniotis looked more and more aghast. That is a terrible notion that only a Catholic could have come up with, he said. Though I can't say there aren't quite a few people I would like to see punished in so delightfully cruel a fashion. Those are the ones, however, who are certain to remain unenlightened by suffering to the end of their days. They make sure of it, he said, picking up the menu and turning with a lifted finger to the waiter, an immense grey-bearded man clad in a long white apron, who all this time had been entrenched so absolutely motionless in the corner of the almost empty room that I hadn't noticed him." (p.94)

Later in the conversation they are joined by another woman, Angeliki, who becomes the focus of the conversation. I was particularly taken by this passage about women's shoes, the comments about being disbarred from 'womanhood' because of what they represent:

" 'I myself,' she continued extending her silvered foot out from beneath the table, 'developed a weakness for delicate shoes when we returned to Greece. Perhaps it was because I had begun to see the virtues of standing still. And for the character in my novel, shoes like these represent something forbidden. They are the sort of shoes she would never wear. Moreover, when she does see women wearing such shoes, it makes her feel sad. She has believed, until now, that this was because she found such women pitiful, but in fact when she things about it honestly it is because she feels excluded or disbarred from the concept of womanhood the shoes represent. She feels, almost, as if she isn't a woman at all. But is she isn't a woman, what is she?'" (p.113-4)

It had something existential about it. The book it makes me think of is Albert Camus' 'The Outsider', that I read for French A level soooo long ago. In talking it's as if the woman is watching herself, examining her own reactions. It's hard to pin down why I liked the book, but when I finished it I decided I was looking forward to the next part of the trilogy to see where she takes the 'narrative' and the 'character'.

The Summer Exhibition

Some years ago Dunk and I watched a programme, probably on Sky Arts, about the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition. The notion that anybody can submit a work of art for this exhibition is enchanting. Some 30,000 people do every year. The 'List of Works' tells me there are 1710 works in the exhibition. Of course many are works by members of the Royal Academy, but they are mixed up on the walls and you can't tell professional from amateur until you consult the listing in the book (the price is usually a clue). I was so pleased that it wasn't at all crowded, plenty of room to stand around looking at the art and not feel like you were in anyone's way. Some rooms were more sparse but many were like this, pictures all the way up, somewhat above a good height to see them well, which must be disappointing for people with their work up the top. A huge range of styles and subject matter and formats. In the end my eyes felt tired ... just from looking so much.

Following are a few of the ones I particularly noticed. No sense of scale here, some were quite small, others huge. I forgot to note down the numbers when I photographed so cant necessarily tell you who they are.

This lovely dandelion. 'The great survivor' Kaye Maahs

Back gardens (no artist name):

'Orlando' by Georgia Green, a friend of Monkey's, one of two that she has in the exhibition.

'Homebase' Jock McFadyen, one of my favourites, but out of my price range.

In the first room, but not sure, possibly (because that's what it looks like) 'Spinney with startled birds' by Anthony Wishaw

'Across the River' Christopher Thompson

Have tea-towel ... make art. 

My favourite, already sold or this would have been the one. 'Strutting' Lisa Badau

And one of multiple cat paintings that I sent to the girls while I was looking around. Monkey said she loved it the best, and so did lots of other people judging by the dots (indicating print purchases)

We got lost on the way, but next time we'll know it's quicker to just take the tube to Green Park. The cake was a bit overpriced but the cafe wasn't crowded either. All round a most enjoyable visit. Next year beckons.

Stay safe. Be kind. See some art.

The Magic of Democracy

 

After the terrifying judgement by the United States Supreme Court last week the election results that arrived overnight bring a welcome feeling of relief. I was struck by the brief acceptance speech by Jeremy Hunt when he reflected on the peaceful transfer of power that has happened here compared to elsewhere in the world where violence can sometimes be a more common method. I feel proud to live in a country where we mark our crosses and accept the decision of the majority, and nobody cries foul. I can only hope that the same will be true in November when the Americans go to vote.

Stay safe. Be kind. Celebrate the wins.

30 Days Wild

 

I signed up for 30 Days Wild, and they emailed me every day, but did pretty much nothing wild the entire of June. I constantly wish I spent more time out of doors but then slump at home after work. Yesterday bought me some wild delight however when I came across this Swallow-tailed moth (Ourapteryx sambucaria) sitting by the postboxes at 17 Mauldeth Road. It was still there today, which was nice because I had forgotten all about it. Moths are a much under-appreciated species as they are often not a beautiful as butterflies but they are just as important as pollinators. 

Stay safe. Be kind. Appreciate the moths.