A revised specification for MrM

Let's get something clear right at the start of this post. MrM is a blue and white shirt kind of person. Sometimes a little bit bluer than white and other times a racy white with blue stripes. For country days MrM might wear a subtle green and brown check but MrM does not wear shirts with graphic design.

I know that it is wrong to try and change your partner, you should accept them as they are and learn to love those little character flaws but how can I come to terms with the fact that I am married to a man who will never wear a shirt with ladybirds on?

MrM will remind me that he has multiple shirts with graphic designs, unusual colour combinations and slogans but I am afraid that London Irish rugby shirts cannot be included in the same category as fabulous French tailoring.

I honestly believe that if I can persuade him to let go of his prejudice he will agree to a gradual programme designed to overcome his fear. We could start with a simple shirt with black triangles for 5 minutes at a time and then build up to a subtle heart pattern. After a few months I am sure that blue swirls or pink circles would be tolerated.

I am not sure how long it would be before he could cope with girls on scooters but I think it would be worth the effort. Don't you?

Coffee Morning

Sitting around Caroline's scrubbed pine table
eating banana cake and drinking cappuccino
was just what I needed on Friday morning.
Caroline told us about her birthday trip to Venice
and we admired her new Murano glass tumblers.

Helen has just moved house
and she has been organising squads
of plumbers, decorators and removals
with the skill of a Major-General.
I'm going to try and persuade her to let me
tell you the story about her chandeliers.

Another friend, Jane, had just got back
from watching the Easter processions in Seville,
something I have always wanted to do.

After a couple of hours of cake, coffee,
laughter and making plans for another day out
my Thursday blues had been forgotten.

*****

Thank you for all your sweet comments,
I really needed a bracing talk
of the 'pull yourself together' variety
but you were kind enough not to notice.

Photocall

Look, it is Thursday evening, I have done three days commuting and I am shattered. Also, the handle on my beautiful Italian bag has broken and I have left my umbrella somewhere which is not ideal when it is raining. I'm not asking for sympathy but I am feeling a little bit frail. So frail that a busker singing arias outside the Royal Festival Hall made me cry. I think I can post pictures of birds if I want.

Someplace new

The Promise by Anne Weisgarber

Just before I went on holiday I did a supermarket sweep for my kindle. The result was a random selection of books: serious, frivolous, fiction, non-fiction, classic, new. I can't remember why I chose 'The Promise' - perhaps it was a linked recommendation or it was on a list somewhere. I certainly couldn't remember anything about it and the problem with kindles is that there is no picture of the book cover, no blurb on the back or quotes from reviewers. Your only option is to read the book. And so it was that I started 'The Promise' without preconceptions.

The plot is slight but absorbing and you cannot tell which way it will end until it does. There are bright, fresh descriptions of a landscape I do not know and the people who lived there. Salt air leaks out of the book and clings to your fingertips as you read. It is about love, of course, but love looked at from many different angles so that it becomes anguish, fear, jealousy, courage. I want you to read this book too, so that you can wonder at the power of a writer to evoke a lost world. It will win prizes, I am sure of that, so read 'The Promise' now before it becomes famous and everyone has told you what to think about it.

Meanwhile

...in Tanzania,  MasterM is messaging MrsM...

MasterM
Can't decide what to have for dinner...
Aromatic Pig Hoof
or Spicy Chicken Claw

MrsM
Spoil yourself.
Have both.

MasterM
Check out these kikoys!
Want one?

MrsM
Yes please!!!
(Can I have more than one?)

MasterM
Look what washed up
at the end of my street
after the flood last week!

MrsM
Come home immediately.

what the commuter saw

APRIL

Early spring in London is over.

9 April
The Mall Galleries
(looking forward to meeting Gina here!)

The trees on The Mall are densely leaved now
and the tulips are finished.

10 April
The Mall

People leave their offices at lunchtime
to lie on the grass and soak up the sunshine,

9 April
St. James's Square

the flower seller behind St. James's, Piccadilly
shelters in the shade of an awning,

10 April
Jermyn Street

the cherry blossom has vanished
in a blizzard of pink and white petals

10 April
Memorials to King George VI and Queen Elizabeth

and the flags for the London Marathon
have been taken down for another year.

14 April
The Mall from Admiralty Arch

Here we are on the brink
of summer in the city.

14 April
The City from the Golden Jubilee Bridge

This is my favourite photo from April:
The Tidiest Convenience Store in London.

7 April
Pall Mall

When I asked permission to take the picture
I said it was for 'a friend'.
That's you, by the way.

The Gardening Awareness Course

Man and Woman picking squash
Tacuinum Sanitas of Vienna, 1386

Once a year MrsM requires MrM
to take a refresher session in Gardening Awareness
before he is permitted to use a trowel or spade.
This maintains health and safety standards
and prevents MrM from being a danger
to himself and to the environment.

MrsM
What are these?
MrM
Gardening Shoes
MrsM
And what are these?
MrM
Those are not Gardening Shoes.
I am not permitted
to use those shoes in the garden.
MrsM
Very good.
What are these?
MrM
Gardening gloves.
MrsM
Why do we use gloves?
MrM
To prevent our hands from getting filthy.
In the event that gloves are unavailable
I must prewash my hands under the garden tap
before using the bathroom.
MrsM
So far so good.
What are these?
MrM
Secateurs.
Your secateurs.
MrsM
That is correct.
And finally...
in what circumstances are you permitted to weed.
MrM
Following today's regrettable accident
my licence for independent action has been revoked
and I may only weed under close supervision.

MrsM sighs.

no particular place to go

We had asparagus soup for lunch and dense, garlicky pate with nutty bread. The daffodils are the very last of the season, their inner petals a soft egg yolk yellow. Afterwards we lazed in the sunshine, enjoying the luxury of sitting still. I made plans for my summer window boxes, imagining white and soft blue shades. In my head, you understand, nothing as strenuous as writing them down. Yesterday I saw a red kite flying out from the edge of the wood and I called my father to tell him. He was quite impressed, I think. And that is just about all I have done and now it is time for tea with our Easter hot cross buns from the freezer. There are so many things I could have done but this afternoon I was content to let them go. They will float back on the next tide.

The 'Varsity Jug

MasterM and his great friend Manu organise an annual golf tournament between the University of Stellenbosch and their local rival, the University of Cape Town. His main concern while we were in South Africa was the famous silver trophy, the 'Varsity Jug.

MasterM modelling a nice line in golf shoes

Stellenbosch won the last round of this prestigious competition which surprised everyone, especially the Stellenbosch team. There was a strong performance in the bars of Stellenbosch that night and the trophy was paraded through the town. For reasons which are not entirely clear one of the team members then slept with the trophy. Unfortunately, it was in a folding bed and when the aforementioned person got out of bed the next day he forgot about the trophy. The bed was put away and the historic trophy was squashed as flat as a pancake causing great consternation. The immediate solution was to ask the person with the strongest hands, a water-polo player, to wrench it back into shape which, unsurprisingly, caused more damage. By now it is a trophy with an identity crisis because it is closer to a plate than a jug. MasterM phoned around the specialist shops and was advised to take it to a garage for panel beating. It was resurrected as a jug with vintage features just in time for the next round of the competition. Panic over.

After repair...

** Many thanks to MasterM's friend for the top two photos **

Avondrood, Franschhoek

South Africa is a country
of tremendous entrepreneurial energy
and when this is combined
with the tradition of hospitality
you find wonderful places to stay.

This is Avondrood, a small Guesthouse
in Franschhoek, just outside Cape Town.
It is a beautiful Victorian house built in 1870
owned and run by Caine J. Herr and Justin Mitchell,
and to me it encapsulates the exciting potential
of development through tourism in South Africa.

The standard of accommodation is very high:
bedroom, bathroom, breakfast all difficult to fault
I think that the bed was almost as comfortable
as my own bed at home. Praise indeed.

The outstanding restaurants of Franschhoek
are within walking distance and
there are enough world class vineyards
for the most dedicated wine buff.
Some are large estates with export markets
and some are smaller boutique vineyards
where the wine is sold in the farm restaurant.

Franschhoek has worked hard to increase
the activities for tourists around the town
including the unique tram route to local vineyards.
When we discussed the investment in the area
which is apparent since we visited two years ago
it is clear that the local tourism board
is both pro-active and innovative,
working in partnership with businesses,
creating a thriving economy.

Each of the vineyards, restaurants and hotels
represent training and employment opportunities
so that young people from disadvantaged communities
are becoming chefs, sommeliers, winemakers.
Franschhoek is the potential of South Africa in microcosm
and other towns are watching and learning.

Justin and his wife offer a courteous hospitality
which creates a peaceful and relaxing house.
Guests arrive back early so that they can
spend time in the pool or just lie on the loungers,
read a book, drink a glass of chilled wine
and watch the mountain glow red at sunset.

Many thanks to Justin, his lovely family,
and the Avondrood team that work so hard
to make guests feel welcome and comfortable.

We didn't want to leave.
Another day or two relaxing in the garden
would have suited me just fine.
Or maybe three or four.

We will just have to go back.
As soon as possible.

Disclaimer:
We stayed at Avondrood as tourists,
paid for our accommodation ourselves
and did not receive any special treatment
or payment for this blog post.