web analytics

admin

Crossing the Bar… (1)

by

No matter how blessed an existence one leads there are inevitably darker times and occasional moments of sadness. Whilst caught in grip of an emotional squall it can be difficult to maintain perspective – to recognise that the account of one’s life does after all show a positive balance – and that if viewed in the context of the troubles of the wider world these relatively minor afflictions are little more than a passing shower. I don’t believe for a minute that our existence here is but a ‘vale of tears’, but I can see that some are unfortunate enough to lead lives that must make that seem so.

It is no secret that I find this time of year irksome and the long, slow grind towards the aurora of the new spring particularly wearing. Though many wonderful things have happened to Kickass Canada Girl and I over the last few years there have also been difficult times, and it seems to me that most of these have occurred in that dark hour before the dawn.

At the start of March last year the Girl’s father died – not unexpectedly, but suddenly. He had been in a nursing home for some time and she had flown back from the UK to visit him on a number of occasions. When it came to it we had only a couple of days notice that he was ailing, and by the time we had booked flights he had passed away.

The Girl and her father were very close. She misses him terribly and she will doubtless find the 11th March this year a particularly difficult day. It saddens me that I will be 8,500 miles away and unable to offer much comfort, so I am very glad that she has family at hand to lean on.

I liked Jim enormously. It was a privilege to have met him and to have been able to get to know him – even if only a little.  Oddly though, in a way I feel I know him quite well, as so many people have told me so much about him. There is clearly a lot of him in the Girl and this will keep his memory very much alive for me. One thing for which I am eternally grateful is that he saw the Girl and I married in the summer of 2010. He could see that she was happy and I think that must have meant a great deal.

When we were in BC last summer we flew up to Kamloops (the Girl’s birthplace) and then – with her cousin and his wife – drove on up the North Thompson valley. Above Clearwater we took the ATVs up into the mountains, to the ‘Hole in the Wall’ where Jim and his buddies used to hunt. The logging road has been long abandoned and the forest is growing back. We would not have got through at all had we not been carrying a chainsaw. In a year or so the track will have disappeared completely. The ‘Hole in the Wall’ has reverted to being a beautifully peaceful spot, and a good place to rest.

We buried Jim’s ashes on the hillside – so that he could look out over the mountains that he loved – and raised a small cairn. The Girl and her cousin fixed a plaque to a nearby tree which includes the inscription:

‘Hunter, fisherman, beloved father and loyal friend.’

So much more could be said – and yet maybe that says enough…

 

Imperceptibly!

by

You may have noticed that I have a fondness for language – for its depth and richness and for the infinite variety of its textures and meanings. I love how flexible and elastic it can be and the endless tapestries that can be woven from it. I have no issue with language evolving to meet the demands of new ages, but I do despair if it becomes impoverished by reduction – particularly if such occurs simply through laziness or some form of inverse snobbery.

Clearly ‘imperceptible’ is amongst my favourite words and always makes me think of that great – if apocryphal – theatrical anecdote concerning Samuel Beckett. To cover the somewhat unlikely eventuality that there are those who have not yet heard this story I thought I would include it herein.

Beckett was famously exacting when it came to productions of his work, demanding not only that the text be delivered unadulterated but also that stage directions be followed to the letter.

In 1975 Beckett’s TV play – ‘Ghost Trio’ – was filmed for BBC television. According to the anecdote Beckett himself sat in on the filming, sitting unobtrusively in the shadows at the back of the studio.

One of the early shots in the play includes this stage direction:

‘Cut to close-up of whole door. Smooth grey rectangle 0.1 x 2 m. Imperceptibly ajar.’

When it came to shooting this scene the director and set designer spent some time on set, nervously discussing the exact positioning of the door and experimenting with various degrees of ‘openness’ – all the while casting anxious glances towards the back of the studio trying to guage Beckett’s reaction. Receiving no guidance from that direction they tried ever finer degrees until finally – unable to stand it any longer – the great man leapt from his seat, stormed onto the set and slammed the door shut.

The director gasped. “But it says ‘ajar’…”, he protested.

“It also”, snapped Beckett, “says ‘imperceptibly’!”.

Camera Obscura

by

Aaaaaaargh!!

After what feels like literally days surfing the InterWebNet researching cameras in an attempt to meet my somewhat arcane requirements (see here if you would like to know the background to this particular quest) I thought I had finally found one that came close to what I wanted. The Fujifilm X10 is a retro styled advanced compact with just the sort of features I was looking for.  Almost panting with excitement – my hand twitching over my credit card like a gunfighter itching to draw – I read on…

Then, to my horror, I started to unearth stories of an apparently fatal design flaw that causes the camera to perform poorly in certain low light conditions, unable to deal in a satisfactory manner with specular highlights. As this was the only camera that remotely met my criteria (assuming that I can’t afford a Leica – which I can’t) I was aghast!

Further reading simply confused the issue. Some reviewers were appalled that a £400 camera could exhibit such flaws – others didn’t mention the problems at all. The posters on some of the more excitable photographic blogs were sufficiently apoplectic that they almost seemed to want to storm Fuji HQ, burn it to the ground and to stone the executives. Others either hadn’t suffered from the defect at all, or if they had did not think it sufficient reason to return the cameras and demand their money back.

It is a very pretty little camera – and I have seen online many excellent examples of images captured by it. Should I just ignore the issues and buy the X10 anyway?

What to do? What to do?…..

I saw my brother last night (Kickass Canada Girl was handing over the sexy Civic to youngest son) but he claimed pressure of work as an excuse for not having yet come up with definitive photographic advice. He had also forgotten to bring the M9 with him which he had intended to show me – though that was probably a good thing!

He has, however, promised to look into it. Watch this space…

iSomething…

by

Kickass Canada Girl now has an iPad – to go with her iPhone and her iPod. I had intended to suggest that this made her into a fully fledged ‘iGirl’, but I discover that this soubriquet has already been appropriated for an iPhone ‘app’ of dubious merit. I will leave the exact nature of the ‘app’ to your imagination, but the fact that the original tagline seems to have been “She obeys!” clearly renders it inappropriate for Kickass Canada Girl. Maybe she’s just ‘TechnoGirl’ instead…

The iPad was a combined Valentine’s Day/going away present for the Girl. My motives are not, however, entirely altruistic since its chief purpose is to enable us to stay in touch using Skype. The time difference between the UK and Victoria is eight hours, which means that during the working day opportunities to talk will be limited. The iPad is a great deal more versatile than a conventional laptop since it can be carried easily to appointments and meetings wherever they may be.

That said, purchase of the aforementioned device did demand some not inconsiderable sacrifice on my part. Needing – for a variety of reasons – to complete the purchase in a hurry I was compelled to visit the Apple store in the Westfield London shopping mall. This accretion of retail outlets is apparently the third largest in the UK – the mind boggles at the thought of there being anything bigger – and I am so obviously not a constituent of its target audience that on the rare occasions that I have been obliged to visit the place doing so has felt like entering a foreign country. Considering the square footage of floor space therein it amazes me that there is so little of any utility on offer, this being apparently purely a pantheon to the superfluous.

The Apple temple is, of course, beautifully designed in a minimalist sort of way, in keeping with the devices celebrated therein – with white being the predominant colour (or lack thereof). The store was, naturally, packed with spellbound punters being eagerly serviced by a cloud (should that be an iCloud?) of blue-shirted Apple ants. Here was the iPad appreciation section – there the iPhone zone – to the left the racks of exquisite accessories… and up at the back – the Genius Bar!

Now – I am not a genius, but I did know exactly what I wanted. The problem was that the one thing I couldn’t see was a place to actually buy the things. There was no obvious counter – no checkout. Worst of all, there was no signage.  I wandered around looking lost, whilst the blue worker ants – having clearly marked me out as a troublemaker – carefully avoided catching my eye. Eventually I found a sparse wooden table, much like all the others in the store, but with a small wooden plaque on it which read ‘Purchases’. A bearded genius homed in on me, head throbbing with iKnowledge, eager to demonstrate the extent of his technical know-how. Was there something he could help me with?

“Yes”, I said, indicating the sign. “I would like to purchase something!”

It is – when all is said and done – just a shop…

 

 

My Canadian Valentine

by

I find that my enthusiasm for Valentine’s Day has been greatly rekindled over the last few years – not least because it was on the 14th February, three years ago, that I asked Kickass Canada Girl to marry me. As should be readily apparent by now she did me the the very great honour of accepting me.

It did not take me long after meeting the Girl to reach the conclusion that she must surely be most chaps’ idea of the dream woman. Yes – she is ‘preposterously pretty’ (and that compliment came from another woman!) but consider also the following:

  • The Girl managed the (male) rugby team at college
  • She likes classic sports cars (and drives pretty damned fast herself)
  • She drinks single malts

This much I discovered on our first date. Before long I had also established that in Canada she had turned out on a regular basis for her local softball and darts teams and I have since seen for myself how competitive she can be on an ATV or a Skidoo. Now – should this give the impression that the Girl is a bit of a tomboy let me reassure you that she is all woman, not to mention whip-smart and funny to boot.

She also sets high standards, so I knew that a proposal would need to score pretty highly if I hoped for a quick answer in the affirmative.

I like to think that I am something of a romantic, and I now thought back to our first date. We met at the National Theatre – a favourite haunt of mine – before walking along the South Bank to Bankside and crossing the wobbly bridge (which, naturally, doesn’t… any more) to St Paul’s Cathedral. There we climbed to the top of the dome and looked out over the capital together.

I decided that for Valentine’s Day 2009 we would recreate that first walk, but with an additional stop at a rather good restaurant overlooking the river just north of the bridge. We had already talked about getting married and I think the Girl was half-expecting a proposal. She certainly seemed a little put out when we were seated at a table by the picture windows rather than in one of the more intimate booths at the back. We had a splendid meal and a good bottle of wine, but the conversation steered clear of matters of the heart.

After lunch I suggested that for old times’ sake we might perhaps visit the cathedral. Kickass Canada Girl didn’t seem entirely keen but agreed to go along with the idea. When we reached the spot immediately under the centre of the dome – in front of various clerics and a crowd of Japanese tourists – I made a brief speech and went down on one knee to propose in time-honoured fashion. From her reaction – the Girl didn’t know whether to laugh or cry – I took it that things had gone reasonably well.

Since then, of course, they have gone exceedingly well and I am deeply in her debt… a debt that I shall do my best to repay over the years ahead.

Picture Post

by

Over the years I have had several bass guitars stolen – one from the back of a van whilst it was being unloaded outside a venue in Edinburgh 20 minutes before the start of a show! I could almost admire the chutzpah required for that particular heist, were it not for the fact that the guitar – my first professional instrument – carried a strong sentimental attachment.

The last time I lost a bass, in the early 90s, I took the insurance cheque and headed for the music stores to replace it. I was in for a shock! Bass guitar technology had changed and I found that I no longer understood it. There were 5 string basses, 6 string basses, extended range basses, acoustic basses, semi-acoustic basses… I couldn’t play any of them! The tide had ebbed and left me behind – driftwood on the strandline.

Fortunately I found a proper old-fashioned guitar shop in Richmond (that is Richmond in the UK – in Surrey… oh, let’s not get confusing!) called – as I recall – Barney Marder’s. Sadly this store is no longer with us, as it used to carry a wonderful collection of old and sometimes rare guitars. There I found a much abused Fender Precision from the mid 70s, in a battered case and with most of the original finish worn away through use. It needed a bit of work but it will – if looked after – see me out.

I am reminded of this episode now because I am looking to purchase a camera. My intention – a good one I think – is to furnish this blog with images that I take myself. Though very much a novice when it comes to photography I do want to try to capture the things that I see and that I write about. The cheap digital camera that I have been using for the last few years does surprisingly well at the basics, but I have a hankering to be able to produce the sort of images that are now so prevalent on the web.

When I was young (painful to write that in so many ways!) there were basically only two types of consumer camera – inexpensive ‘compacts’ that used film cartridges and 35mm SLR jobbies that required flight cases, multiple lenses, filters and all the rest of the paraphernalia. I naively assumed that something similar would still apply, and that to step up I would need to look for the digital equivalent of the 35mm camera – the DSLR. I turned to the Internet to see what might be available.

Another shock! Camera technology has changed and I no longer understand it. Did I want a point and shoot camera, a compact system camera, a bridge/hybrid camera, a 4/3 format camera, a micro 4/3 format camera, an entry-level DSLR, a ‘prosumer’ DSLR… or should I just use the camera in the iThing?… if I had one… which I don’t!

Clearly I have no idea at all as to what I should be looking for. I made a list of what I think are my requirements:

  • There has to be a viewfinder of some sort – I don’t like taking pictures at arm’s length
  • There has to be manual or semi-automatic control – I like to tell the camera what to do
  • There should be dials and buttons rather than just onscreen menus
  • It must be possible to shoot in reasonable closeup and at a reasonable distance
  • It must be possible to shoot in fairly low light
  • The camera should be as simple as possible (no comments please!)
  • The whole shooting match should not be too heavy – or I just won’t use it

At this point I consult my brother, who is a designer and who has used cameras professionally ever since he left college. He solved the weight/complexity problem on his first trip to Canada – in the summer of 2010 to attend our wedding – by simply leaving his Hassleblads and DSLRs behind and traveling with an old Leica rangefinder. Mind you, he has just paid an arm and a leg for an M9, so I’m not sure about using him as a role model. Still, he has promised to have a think about it and to get back to me with a recommendation. His younger son is getting Kickass Canada Girl’s car at a knock-down rate when she leaves for BC, so he probably owes me one.

Friends like this…

by

An ongoing feature of this blog is going to be me embarrassing our dear friends in Saanichton by telling the world how amazing and wonderful they are. They are – so they’ll just have to put up with it!

Not content with throwing open their home to a confluence of foreigners, as hosts to our wedding in 2010 – and indeed putting very nearly the entire celebration together themselves, including making the champagne! – they then offered us considerable financial assistance last summer for our putative house purchase in BC. They will now be providing a home for Kickass Canada Girl when she returns to Victoria next month.

But that’s not enough for them… Oh no!

The Girl is selling her car – a sporty black Honda Civic with all the extras – to one of my nephews – my brother’s youngest, who is currently a medical student here in the UK. Canadians probably won’t get this because the Civic in Canada is a totally different car! The European version is much more sexy! Anyway, the intention was that the proceeds of the sale would go towards the purchase of a suitable vehicle in BC, and to that end the Girl has been online eying up all sorts of sports cars and convertibles and so forth – she being naturally that way inclined.

Then, just the other day, we received a message from Saanichton. Our friends had found what is possibly the best ever ‘pre-loved’ car for sale. A 21 year old Accord in showroom condition, with just 30,000 miles on the clock. One careful owner – always garaged – full service history – only driven on special occasions. A snip at $4,500, which is about £2,900!!

Ok – so it’s not quite the sporty number that the Girl had in mind, but it’s far too good a deal to pass up and she can put the rest of the pot aside for something fancier later. No sooner had she expressed her interest than our dear friends had purchased the car with their own funds, brought it back to their farm and put it into storage to await the Girl’s arrival in March. What are we going to do with these guys?!

They are amazing. We are truly blessed, and we love them to bits…

50 ways to leave…

by

“She said why don’t we both
Just sleep on it tonight
And I believe in the morning
You’ll begin to see the light
And then she kissed me
And I realized she probably was right” – Paul Simon

I firmly believe Paul Simon to be one of the greatest ever pop lyricists, and no mean tune-smith to boot. If you know of anyone who can better the incorporation of words such as “misconstrued” or “pertains” into the popular song lyric – without being pretentious or overly clever – then by all means feel free to educate me.

Kickass Canada Girl is currently working through the 50 ways, though – fortunately for me – it is not her lover that she is leaving… or at least, only in a transitory sense! The sorting out and the packing are major operations involving much detailed planning, as one would expect when moving permanently from one country to another. It is fortunate that the Girl is good with lists. The intercontinental character of our lives over the next few years should at least give us the advantage of being able to move her belongings incrementally, without the need to make all the decisions on day one.

The leaving of friends and acquaintances is another matter. Those who have come to know and love Kickass Canada Girl – that is, everyone who has met her – now find themselves having to contemplate saying goodbye with little idea of when and where the next meeting might be. Worse still – from their point of view – I will still be here, and they will have to suffer me moaning on about my lonesome condition for the next two years. The Girl will be back, of course – she is after all married to a Scot who lives in England – but those visits will doubtless seem all to brief, much as our visits to BC currently do to me.

Naturally everyone wants a piece of the Girl before she leaves, so we are busy arranging leaving gatherings for friends, relatives and work colleagues. This – on top of winding up and handing over her current job (during a particularly busy period – inevitably!) and getting everything ready to go, is causing an understandable degree of stress. Leaving dinners and parties fall into that slightly awkward category of events that are notionally celebratory, but which – being tinged with sadness – are perhaps not as easy to enjoy as one would wish. Fortunately the Girl has a week in Mexico to look forward to before she takes up her new post, which will provide a much needed hiatus, and the prospect of which should give her the energy to be the life and soul…

For myself, I might just…

“Slip out the back, Jack”

 

Pensioned off!

by

Received today from the UK Pension Service – under the auspices of the Department for Work and Pensions – a notification of the change in State Pension age. The notice contains the following priceless text:

“You may be aware that the law has changed. State Pension age is increasing from 65 to 66. This affects men and women born on or after 6 December 1953.

Our records show that your date of birth is 07/01/1954. Based on this information, the earliest date from which you could be entitled to any State Pension is 06/05/2019. This date is unlikely to fall on your birthday.”

 

You don’t say!!

 

Excepting February alone…

by

“Why, what’s the matter, that you have such a February face, so full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?” – William Shakespeare, ‘Much ado About Nothing’

February is definitely not my favourite month.

To those who – like me – are struggling to rid themselves of their ‘winter overcoats’ in this post-Christmas period it will come as no surprise that February took its name from the Latin ‘februum’ – which means ‘purification’. The Roman purification ritual ‘Februa’ – a form of spring-cleaning for the body – was held on February 15 (full moon) in the old lunar Roman calendar. In my case there is still rather too much purification to be done before then, I fear.

I leave home at around 6:45 in the morning and don’t quit the office until somewhat after 5:30 in the afternoon. At this time of year this means starting both journeys in darkness. When it is also cold and wet and miserable – what the Scots would call ‘dreek!’ – I am not a happy bunny!

Since moving to Berkshire last September the quickest that I have done the commute to work is 55 minutes. The longest is something over 2 hours! The norm can be anything from an hour and a quarter to an hour and three quarters and varies by the day according to the vagaries of road works, accidents and what is described enigmatically as “sheer weight of traffic!”. My morning journey is a sleepy procession of three lanes of constantly flickering brake-lights, over-sized trucks and kamikaze motor-cyclists.

This latter reminds me of my first ever visit to Vancouver. Being so used to having bikes slaloming past the car on both sides – even at speed – it came as something of a surprise to see a group of Hell’s Angels queuing in the traffic for the Lion’s Gate bridge. Hell’s Angels queuing?! No British biker ever waits in traffic – Angel or not…

When Kickass Canada Girl goes back to Victoria in March she will be staying with dear friends on the Saanich peninsula. Her commute into central Victoria will take no more than 30 minutes and she will enjoy for much of the year the additional delight of the staggering panorama of the Olympic Mountains that so surprises the first-time visitor on cresting the hill at Royal Oak.

I could, of course, move nearer to town, but even in the current climate London rental prices are eye-watering and I don’t fancy spending the next two years living in something the size of a shoe box. So – with apologies to those who suffer the Colwood Crawl (whose journey has its own Facebook page!!) – I will simply embrace my victim-hood and look longingly across the Atlantic. The Girl is getting by far the better of this particular deal – though of course that is as it should be.

Ah well – two more winters……

+ More