It’s been a mixed-bag of a week – more rain (no surprise there) but a couple of relatively sunny days with fairly reasonable temperatures. Penny was even able, with some modest assistance from me, to get the lawns mowed for the first time in about a fortnight.
Last Sunday we had a night on the town! Our lovely neighbours alerted us to a performance of Flamenco dancing and Spanish guitar music at the Sheldonian Theatre in Oxford. Not something, I guess, that we would have thought about attending on our own, but with their company it turned out to be a very enjoyable outing.
We had an early dinner beforehand at Browns. This was always one of our “go to” restaurants when I was working in Oxford and it’s always been a dependable option. And Sunday was no different – really good food and excellent service in a splendid setting. I think everyone enjoyed what they had.
After dinner we wandered along to the Sheldonian Theatre, a magnificent building in the centre of Oxford. It was built in the 1660s by Sir Christopher Wren, and is used for significant ceremonies in the University calendar including matriculation and graduation as well as for musical and the occasional dramatic presentations.
Truly a magnificent setting for a fun evening’s entertainment by the Daniel Martinez Flamenco Company. Some outstanding guitar playing (with a small orchestral backing group) and a fair bit of stomping, howling, clapping and twirling by the dancers.
Penny and I both remembered, with great affection, our previous exposure to flamenco in Cordoba on a short trip we took to Andalucía in 2006. If you’ve any interest you can find that particular episode here but, in particular, the mere mention of “flamenco” reminds us specifically of our language lessons with the gentleman selling tickets for the performance (with apologies for the length of this extract).
After visiting the Mezquita we did another bout of strolling through the old town exploring new alleys and courtyards and continuing the search for the restaurant of the day. Meanwhile, Pen had seen some leaflets advertising a performance of Flamenco dancing so we found our way to the booking office to reserve a couple of seats for that evening’s performance.
The gentleman in the booking office was very talkative and, after my halting efforts at communicating in Spanish had been acknowledged (and appreciated) we started a lengthy conversation about all manner of things. At one point our discussion touched on the attitude of youngsters today at the prospect of learning a foreign language. The agent lamented the fact that youngsters today simply did not apply themselves to their studies in the manner in which they should, in his view, and were always looking for a quick fix. In particular, he was dismayed by their relatively poor accents and we discussed how difficult it is for a native English speaker to make the appropriate sound for the “c” in gracias, for example. I guess most of us know that it is, in fact, a cross between the soft c or s sound and a “th” made with the tongue at the back of the teeth. In fact, of course, it’s a sound we do not have in English which makes it difficult to reproduce satisfactorily. After several attempts by me to pass muster on the “c/th” sound in Valencia and him correcting my accent, he finally remarked that youngsters could learn a decent accent if they were sufficiently determined – “Where there is a will, there is a way,” he said, “tu quoin a frasé,” he continued.
Now, Penny and I both thought he was attempting to teach us another Spanish phrase with immaculate pronunciation so Pen repeated, “Tu quoin a frasé.” At this point, he repeated the phrase, “To quoin a frasé” and she repeated it again. This “conversation” went back and forth each party seemingly trying to master the pronunciation and accent of the other.
I can’t remember at what exact point the penny dropped or how many exchanges there had been by this time between Pen and our friend, but suddenly I realised what was happening and it took a monumental effort to prevent myself from laughing out loud. He was trying to say, “To coin a phrase” while Penny was trying to learn a new Spanish phrase. Each time she would repeat it, he was convinced that she was trying to help him with his accent and he tried to repeat it exactly as she was doing. However, she was trying to repeat it exactly as he was doing and so they were gradually going around in circles, each time getting further and further from the original intent of the discussion. Finally, I had to interrupt the lesson and correct them both. “Oh, ‘to coin a phrase’ is what you’re after.” We shared much amusement for the rest of the trip (and, indeed, in the weeks since) at the services we were able to render to Iberian-Anglo understanding.
We had a couple of mediocre film evenings this week – firstly, we watched The Boys in the Boat, the film of the book describing the University of Washington’s rowing team and their trip to the 1936 Olympics in Berlin. Both Penny and I thought the book was excellent when we read it some years ago and we were looking forward to the film version. It was “OK” I suppose. I can’t quite put my finger on why I came away a bit disappointed but it was just pretty ordinary and somehow didn’t have any of the suspense or tension of the book. Hey ho!
On Thursday evening Penny decided she would like to watch the 1993 film of The Age of Innocence with Daniel Day-Lewis, Winona Ryder and Michelle Pfeiffer. I’m not sure if the fact that the novel is the current book club assignment had any influence on her desire to watch the film but she did say that she did not want to have to take the book away with her to Ireland next week. We found it and spent a pleasant two and a bit hours lounging in front of the fire. I had not realised that it was directed by Martin Scorsese and, I suppose, it was a decent enough representation of the morals and social attitudes of 1870s New York society.
It did get us to thinking about our New York ancestors who would have been bound by those same customs and social standards. My great-grandfather was born in 1866 in Brooklyn and his mother, Susan Emma Kitchell, was born in 1836 and raised in New York and Brooklyn. The comings and goings of “acceptable society” would undoubtedly have had an influence on their lives.
During a few hours when the rain wasn’t sheeting down, I managed to make my way all the way to the top of the garden! A few photos of Penny’s flowers:
YCNMIU
The government’s flagship policy to “Stop the Boats” has finally limped into action. An asylum seeker who had had his application rejected, volunteered to be repatriated to Rwanda. For the small sum of £3,000 and free board and lodging, paid for by the UK government, for the next five years.
Seriously?
Basically, this is so wacky that no one could make it up.
British taxpayers aren’t just forking out £3,000 for a volunteer to board a plane, they are also paying Rwanda to provide him with free board and lodgings for the next five years. This extortionate pre-election gimmick is likely to be costing on average £2m per person.
Yvette Cooper, Shadow Home Secretary
And finally, finally, another recipe for your collection – Salmon and Spinach Pasta bake which Pen made in the week. Really tasty.
And finally, finally, finally, as I alluded to above, we are off to Ireland for a few days this week. We fly out from Birmingham to Dublin on Tuesday and back on the following Monday. Adam and Ava have generously offered to move in and look after the house and Daisy, for which we are grateful. So, no Moreton Pinkney Picayune next Sunday, you’ll be relieved to know. Have fun!
Meanwhile, keep happy, keep smiling, keep exercising, be good, be careful, and keep safe. And be gentle to wasps and bees.
Lots of love to you all,
Greg