family history

...Uncle Alan should have been Astronomer Royal, you know. I can remember meeting Bishop Martineau at a garden party and he said "Why didn't he take it? Why? He should have had it". He was brilliant, absolutely brilliant, Bishop Martineau said so, but he stayed at Liverpool. Uncle Alan was a gentle soul and it probably suited him but he took the top prize when he was at Cambridge even though Maynard Keynes was there. His name is on the board at King's, in gold writing, you can see it as you go in. My dear, he used to lecture all over - Oxford, Yale, Brown - but that is why Liverpool has such a good reputation for Maths, because he stayed. He tried to teach me fractions once but we only had about a minute, I was never very good at maths. I expect he worked on Enigma during the war but he never said anything. I know he taught himself Serbo Croat, he really was very brilliant. Of course she had agoraphobia, I've always said that, so she wouldn't let him move...

family history

...Great Aunt Jessie was my father's aunt. When she was quite young she was on a train in France and met this Hungarian countess who was very taken with her and asked her to teach her daughters English. Great Aunt Jessie went back the following year to teach English and stayed in Hungary until after the war. She would return to England occasionally and visit my parents but they never knew what to expect. There was the time that an Hungarian count proposed to her on Skegness Sands, my father said he was desperately, desperately in love with her but she wouldn't have him. During the war she stayed in Budapest and she told us that she went out for fresh air every day, whatever the weather. I suppose she was probably working for the Secret Services. After the war she stayed with us for a while and there was a slight problem when she used forged bank notes, they were very good forgeries, probably from the German camps. I don't think it was her fault but we did have a visit from Scotland Yard which was quite something in a small Lincolnshire village. One night we were coming back from a magic lantern show and we could see her silhouetted on the bathroom curtains reaching up into the lavatory cistern...well, she must have hidden something there. I can remember my father saying "Good gracious, whatever is she up to now?" Great Aunt Jessie was such a strong character that it all got a bit much for my mother so she moved out after three years. Of course, she may or may not have left a son in Hungary...

family history

...Great Aunt Nell was Mummy's mother's sister and when she visited us in Lincolnshire during the war she would save up her rations and then she and my mother would bake. They would set aside a whole afternoon and make jumbles and brandy snaps and gingerbread. She was a warm person and could make my mother laugh - I mean, Mummy was always the same, very serious, but she always laughed when Great Aunt Nell came to stay. I don't have any pictures of her but she was so neat and tidy and wore a blouse with a brooch at her throat, it might have been a cameo, I'm not sure. Great Aunt Nell was wonderful at sewing and made all her own clothes - and when she visited she would make things for me too. Once she cut down one of Mummy's night dresses for me, it was so pretty, pink rosebuds. I had lots of dolls and she would make them lovely clothes out of bits and pieces - there was a mole coloured velvet coat and it was so beautifully made, she really was very good at sewing. Of course she lived in London most of the time because her sister had run away with a man from Scotland who was very rich and he would only let her bring her son so Nell helped to bring up the daughter Didi who was left behind...

Meanwhile...

...in South Africa

MasterM is celebrating the end of exams.

(but we are holding our breath
until the results come out.)

*****

My laptop is poorly and being admitted for intervention tomorrow.
If my posting is patchy for the next week or so don't panic!

In which I land on my feet

The British School at Rome is an historic academic institution founded in 1901 to celebrate the cultural links between Italy and the United Kingdom and provide support for research into archaeology, history and the fine arts. The British School is a magnificent building on the edge of the Borghese Gardens in Rome based on the Lutyens design for the British pavilion at the International Exhibition of 1911. It opened in 1916 and houses an important library, residential accommodation for scholars and studios for artists. It is funded by the British Academy and by generous benefactions and this is the institution that I find myself working for, based in the British Academy building in Carlton House Terrace.

When you make a job application you should research very thoroughly to make sure that your skills match the job description and that the location, terms and conditions are acceptable. I stress this to MrM, MasterM and MissM .

These are the things I did not know when I applied:

1.

I honestly did not know
the London office is in Carlton House Terrace.

Arriving at the grand entrance
for my interview
was a shock.

2.

I assumed from the job description

that I would be photocopying.

and other low skill administrative tasks.

Errr...no...

I will be involved in fundraising activities.

This will be fun.

3.

I thought my role would not require travel to Rome.

I was wrong.

I booked my first trip this week.

So... I am working in Carlton House Terrace, with archaeologists, historians, classicists, architects and practising artists with occasional trips to Rome.

I also have permission to blog about it.

Sometimes I am much luckier than I deserve.

(I should add two things: it was MrM that booked the flight, of course, and I applied because when I met MrM he had just returned from excavations based at the British School at Rome.)

photocall

Southbank Centre, at night

It's one of those days
when a photo will have to do.
Out at 7am, back at 8.30pm.
It's tiring, this commuting.

Jack O'Lantern and friends

It was my day off
so I went shopping.
Walk, walk, walk.

I am exhausted.
My arms ache.
Too many bags.

I bought yarn.
Lovely smokey blue
for a bobble hat.

Also Christmas chutney.
Bring on Boxing Day,
I'm not scared.

Not much to say
about the pumpkins.
Enjoy the knobbliness.

I am here

This is where I work:
Carlton House Terrace.
Isn't it beautiful?
Stand in front of it...
Buckingham Palace is to your right,
Trafalgar Square to your left,
and St. James's Park in front of you.
Behind you is Pall Mall, Haymarket
and Lower Regent Street.
This is the heart of London
so you never know who you will see.
Sir Trevor Nunn sat opposite me
in the sandwich shop today.
I was very embarrassed because
he realised that I recognised him.
If only he knew how unusual that is.

A Pleasing Melancholy

The Savill Garden in November

shades of ochre, umber and siena

smell of damp grass

red leaves underfoot

still dank air

muffled sound of rooks

new coat and warm boots

thoughts of buttered crumpets

brief moments of brilliance

time to dream

It is a quiet Sunday morning.
There is an apple cake in the oven
and leek soup for lunch.
I will wash the kitchen floor
and listen to Trollope while I iron.
After lunch we will go out to walk
through the autumn leaves.
When it is dark I will draw the curtains,
light the candles and knit for a while.

The first hellebore flowers have appeared.
I thought you would like to know that.