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(With apologies to Angela Carter!)
Whilst whiling away some sun-filled moments on the boundary last weekend – during the penultimate cricket match of the season – I became aware that I was surrounded by the results either of some over-enthusiastic avian preening or mayhap – and on a darker note – of some nocturnal vulpine carnage.
Either way a photographic study seemed to be called for:
It is not how much we have, but how much we enjoy, that makes happiness.
Charles Spurgeon
Last Sunday’s Observer newspaper contained an item on the emerging field of ‘happiness studies’. I kid you not! And when it comes down to it – given the current state of this terrene body – who could argue that anything that leads to an increase in happiness be anything but a good thing?
One of the subjects of the article was a study by two American professors – Amit Bhattacharjee and Cassie Mogilner – a prominent finding of which was that the older people get, the more content they are with ‘ordinary’ experiences. “In fact” – the piece proclaims – “the potential to be content with everyday pursuits eventually grows equal to exotic trips or pricey restaurant meals.”
Whilst I would not claim to have quite reached this point – my fondness for the delights of Epicurus being yet strong – I am becoming aware as I age of a significant re-orientation in this general direction. I now discover much pleasure in really quite simple things.
When I was young I quite naturally burned with the desire to achieve things – to become ‘someone’ – to make some kind of mark. Though not, perhaps, particularly ambitious in the conventional way, I really was quite desperate to be taken seriously – certainly in artistic and creative terms but also in my chosen career – or, should I say, in the career that had apparently chosen me. I obviously required considerable levels of validation – of affirmation – from others if I was to achieve a sufficient degree of self-esteem that I felt comfortable about my place in the world.
This restlessness must have made me quite a difficult person to live with – or even to be around – and I should perhaps offer my apologies to those that had to endure it. Youth – as Shaw has it – is indeed sometimes wasted on the young!
Though much has since changed, this is surely not merely a case of all passion being spent. The passion is rather now considerably more focused than once it was – such being essential when one must work with a more circumscribed supply of energy and life-force.
We are, as a species, by our nature hungry for knowledge and imbued with the desire to create. The path to happiness – as has been pointed out by many more learned than I – lies in the adoption of ‘projects’ that allow us to exercise these basic needs – but with the proviso that we must be able to set achievable targets by which our progress may be measured. If we have either taken on too much and are unsuccessful in our endeavors – or have not challenged ourselves sufficiently – the outcome is unhappiness…
As we advance in years and – hopefully – in wisdom, this careful balancing act requires finer and finer control. If we are fortunate we will by this point have acquired the skills through which successful outcomes may be achieved.
You will have noticed that this brief discourse on happiness makes no mention of love. This is not because I consider this fundamental to be unimportant – or even worse, antithetical – to happiness, but more because its very great import means that it must needs have a forum of its own.
Happy days!
Tags: Happiness, Modern life
…things will be different!
Einstein had it right with this incontrovertible aphorism:
“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
It is widely acknowledged throughout the circle of my acquaintance that I habitually suffer a not inconsiderable degree of discomfort at this calendrical juncture. This has – of course – much to do with the onset of the new academic year (and with all that that implies) – not to mention the increasing impingement of that which is – by me at any rate – the least favoured of the seasons.
Proof of this sad state of affairs can be educed from my postings from around this time over the past several years, such as this, this and even this – although I feel sure that you have far better things to do with your time than to subject yourself to my historical moans and grumbles.
Recent levels of stress emanating from my place of employ suggest that this year will be little different. There are reasons – however – to hope for an alternative outcome – that this time things will indeed be different.
Two years ago – in a somewhat precipitate post – I rashly announced that I was about to embark upon my last year at work before retirement. The gods – naturally – wasted little time in punishing me for this hubris and – as you are doubtless aware – I am still here…
Well – I now grit my teeth – gird my loins – summon up my courage – and make the same pronouncement again… this time with nobs on! I am contemplating several possible scenarios. The worst case has me retiring at the end of the summer term next year. The most optimistic has me packing my bags and waving good-bye in January. The intermediate options might involve working a reduced week in the new year to see me through. Negotiations with my employers commence almost immediately.
The Kickass Canada Girl is – at the same time – examining her possible courses of action. She would also love to slow down. One thing of which we are certain is that – once we have sold our UK property – there is very little to hold us here. Our retirement projections – though of course flexible – are all predicated on a start date of January 1st 2015.
Now – this is clearly a much more positive and realistic declaration than that which I made two years ago. This – of course – simply reflects just how much water has flowed under the bridge since then.
Tags: Autumn, Retirement, work
A good photograph is knowing where to stand
Ansell Adams
I do not claim for a moment to know where to stand… but I cannot in any case resist posting some more random images from France.
This is La Rochelle – which we had not previously visited.
These are random passing sights that took my fancy:
And this is from the Chateau de Tennessus:
I must also at this point express hearty congratulations to the English ladies who triumphed against the Canadians in the Women’s Rugby World Cup on Sunday evening last in Paris. The Canadians were not by any means disgraced, having put up a really strong performance. They will certainly feature strongly in future competitions. The Kickass Canada Girl is just about speaking to me again!
On our way to the charming region of the Poitou Charente that is to be our home for the next week we spent a couple of nights in what might best be described as a fairytale medieval castle – the Chateau de Tennessus. This twenty five year labour of love on the part of its English owners is a testament to what can be achieved if one is prepared to invest a simply extraordinary amount of work, art and money into what is quite clearly an overarching passion.
Avid followers of these obscure obita dicta may well recognise the image at the top of this post. I used it for the occasion last year on which the Kickass Canada Girl and I ventured to the Twickenham Stoop to see the English ladies take on their Canadian counterparts at the ‘gentlemanly’ pastime of ‘rugger’. In that instance – to the Girl’s chagrin – the home team proved too strong for the visitors.
I re-use the image now because the two sides meet again this coming Sunday – but this time in Paris for the final of the Women’s Rugby World Cup! How exciting!
The English ladies have made a number of appearances in World Cup finals and have indeed once lifted the trophy. On the last few occasions, however, they have been well beaten by New Zealand – who were indeed favourites again for this tournament. Canada have not previously finished higher than seventh – so really are entering uncharted territory. The two sides have already met in the pool stages this time around – the result being a tantalising 13 all draw.
The Irish ladies did everyone a favour by knocking out the All Blacks but seemed by yesterday’s semi-final against England to have exhausted themselves in the process – the English romping home 40 – 7. The Canadians then opened up a good lead against the hosts – France – but had to endure sustained pressure in the closing 20 minutes – just holding on to go through 18 – 16.
We wish the very best of luck to both sides for Sunday.
As it happens we will be in France over the weekend – though not particularly close to Paris. This is probably a good thing since we would be very tempted to try to get to the game in spite of it already being a sell-out – the which itself is a fantastic result for the women’s game.
We are taking a brief break from the rigours of work and spending a week in the company of the good friends whose wedding we attended in Hong Kong a couple of years back. They have rented a gite in the Poitou Charente for three weeks and we will spend the first of those with them. We leave this very evening!
Expect photographs…
To Wyndhams Theatre in the West End last Friday eve to catch the revival of David Hare’s 1995 masterpiece – ‘Skylight‘ – starring Bill Nighy and Carey Mulligan.
As Canadians would say – but as Brits would mean… “Awesome“!
The Kickass Canada Girl and I found ourselves earlier that evening – as we journeyed into town prior to the performance – discussing the fact that it has been some considerable time since we have truly had a five-star theatrical experience.
Come to think of it – and we did – there has also been a lengthy lacuna since we last saw a five-star movie. And as for television! Well – the fact that we are spending a considerable chunk of our current down-time (such as it is) either re-playing (in the case of the Girl) or mostly viewing for the first time (in mine) the complete cycle of Aaron Sorkin’s wonderful ‘The West Wing‘ courtesy of LoveFilm – says pretty much all that need be said about the current state of television drama.
I digress…
For those who know him not Sir David Hare is one of the great knights of the English theatre – playwright, screenwriter and director. He is perhaps best known for his trilogy of ‘state of the nation’ plays for the Royal National Theatre in the early 90s – ‘Racing Demon‘, ‘Murmuring Judges‘ and ‘Absence of War‘ – as well as for his earlier play, ‘Plenty‘ – his own screen adaptation of which starred Meryl Streep. Streep featured again in the movie of his 2002 screenplay of Michael Cunningham’s Pulitzer Prize winning novel – ‘The Hours‘ – the which was directed by Stephen Daldry, who also does the honours for this revival of ‘Skylight‘. Hare’s 2011 one act play ‘South Downs‘ – based on his school days in Sussex and written to be played as a double bill with Terrence Rattigan’s ‘The Browning Version‘ for the centenary of the latter’s birth – is one of my favourite scripts of recent years.
Most recently Hare has turned his hand to writing and directing for television, producing a trilogy of dramas based on his long-serving MI5 character – Johnny Worricker. The ‘Worricker Trilogy‘ – comprising ‘Page Eight‘, ‘Turks and Caicos‘ and ‘Salting the Battlefield‘ features in the lead role no less than the estimable Bill Nighy. See above!
Hare is understandably widely regarded as a political writer – his work clearly reflecting his left of centre credentials. ‘Skylight‘ – written whilst the UK yet reverberated to the shrill cacophony of the Thatcher years – makes central the abyss between that era’s capitalist high-achievers and those left as human wreckage in their wake. Nighy’s driven and hugely successful alpha-manhood is pitted against Mulligan’s born-again social conscience. Not too difficult to imagine where Hare’s sympathies lie.
‘Skylight‘ is – praise be – much more nuanced than this, and considerably more complex and layered than first impressions might suggest. The play is in truth about these two engaging, much flawed and totally believable characters and their sad, funny, exasperating and moving relationship history with each other. Exquisitely written, Hare’s script eschews easy answers and ensures that should we as onlookers ever feel that we have enough of a handle on matters to form a judgement, we are rapidly disabused of the notion and forced to dig deeper.
One could posit that given such wonderful material all a decent actor need do is to hit the mark and to recite the lines. To suggest such in this case would be to damn Nighy and Mulligan with faint praise. I can’t recall when I last saw two thespists inhabit their characters as completely as do these two. This is acting of the very highest order.
But enough of my babbling. Instead of perusing my prattlings you should be online at once scrabbling to acquire a ticket for the last few weeks during which this wonderful show will be on the London stage. Such treasures are – by all accounts – yet to be had… though I doubt that they will remain so for long.
There are rumours of a Broadway transfer in the spring of 2015 – should you hail from across the pond or be feeling particularly flush – but who knows.
Don’t take the chance. Catch it now!
Tags: Drama, Modern life, Writing
Subsequent to my posting of last week regarding my application for Canadian Permanent Residence, it is good to see that we are now properly in the system. As reported, the Kickass Canada Girl’s part in the proceedings is done – at least for now. The Citizenship and Immigration Canada Application Status tool shows the following details for me:
Good to see that my medical results have also been received – by virtue of their having been extracted from the online system. This means that the CIC will be aware that my medical certificate dates from the end of April this year – and that the clock is thus running!
I will keep my eye on the status pages and report further progress as it occurs.
How exciting!
Tags: Canada, Immigrant, Medical, permanent resident
This happy breed of men, this little world
This precious stone set in the silver sea
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house
Against the envy of less happier lands
William Shakespeare – Richard II
Finding myself in want of some new t-shirts (yes – I am of the breed of unreconstructed hippie that still prefers to dress in sandals, jeans and a comfortable top well into my seventh decade!) but not caring much for the choice of overpriced designer-labelled or eyeball-scorchingly be-slogan-ed apparel on offer on the high street – I turned as ever to the InterWebNet to discover what might be available out in the wild – so to speak.
I was looking for something with a nautical flavour – such being to my taste – and by good fortune it seems that the seafaring style is very much “in” at the moment – whatever that might signify.
What it did presage – of course – was the need yet again to skirt the worst excesses of the ‘designer’ end of the rag trade – but this time online. Fortunately – however – I soon found myself delighting in the pelagic pages of one of my favourite small-scale outfitters – Quba & Co – who are based out of Salcombe in Devon. If you haven’t come across them before I do encourage you to take a moment to examine their wares – commencing mayhap with the ‘Company History‘ page on their website, which explicates their ethos rather well and should give you a good insight as to why they appeal to me.
This post does not – however – concern male fashion, though the seed for it did emanate from the pleasures that I clearly obtain from all things related to the sea. Although I have spent a certain amount of my time over the years ‘messing about in boats’ (nowhere near enough time of course!) I have never actually owned one. This will – I firmly intend – be rectified when we move to BC. To my very great pleasure the Kickass Canada Girl has indicated that she will willingly join me on a Power Squadron course once we arrive in Victoria preparatory to us taking to the waves together.
Now – I am aware that a great many of those who live on Vancouver Island are themselves boat-owners and also that these craft are predominantly used for the purposes of fishing. I never have been an angler and nor do I have much interest therein – although I did gain some valuable insight into the pursuit courtesy of the Girl’s cousin who introduced me to the practice of throwing out a couple of lines and then sitting back with a beer… not that I am suggesting for a moment that this is customary amongst British Columbian fisher-folk.
There are, of course, many reasons why – over the centuries – the Brits have been drawn to the west coast of Canada, and in particular to the islands. Much of this surely stems from the fact that both races – as island folk – share a common love for the sea and alike feel the draw of the ocean. I have doubtless quoted John Masefield before in these posts but make no apology for repeating these lines from ‘Sea Fever’:
Incidentally – the oft-quoted phrase that I appropriated for the title of this post is not without interest itself, in that its exact origins are not at all clear. My thoughts ran first to Shakespeare – and in particular to the celebrated John of Gaunt speech from Richard II that is quoted at the top of this missive. When that presumption proved erroneous I resorted once more to the InterWebNet.
Other than a (doubtless worthy and fascinating) tome documenting 135 years of the history of British bicycle racing the most numerous references I could find were to Winston Churchill. The extract from his ‘History of the English Speaking Peoples’ is actually titled ‘The Island Race’, and though Churchill is widely attibuted as having ‘frequently’ used the phrase in the form prepended by the pronoun rather than the definite article I could find no categorical reference thereto. It seems that the usage has simply evolved because it is actually too good not to have done so.
Bully for that, I say…
Tags: Boats, British Columbia, England, The sea, Vancouver Island
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