Comedy; grave; Hobbit

Waitrose’s Christmas drinks catalogue published this photo and caption this year, with a complete lack of irony. The top caption relates to a photo that I snipped off; the bottom one reads ‘Xander helps Helen shell the quails’ eggs’, and relates to an article on Helen Someone or other (possibly a buyer for Waitrose, or possibly an organic chutney-maker supported by her stockbroker hubby) burbling on about how she has a very traditional Christmas (yawn) and involves her three children, including the unfortunately-named Xander, in festive preparations.

Received the usual warning via the OU’s Go Green programme to switch off all unnecessary electrical equipment over the Christmas period (though it did end with a slightly panic-stricken footnote about not going overboard and switching off servers or fridges). The OU’s Go Green programme is fronted by a Great Crested Newt called Neville, the thinking presumably being that cute talking animals are just the thing to achieve buy-in from fully grown adults.

Comedy outing to South Street Arts on 6 January to see Roisin Conaty, a comic I hadn’t thought I was familiar with, though realised from part of her routine that I’ve heard snippets of her on Radio 4 (a rather good joke about how raising the price of cigarettes won’t stop people smoking, but will just mean that poor people stop buying fruit). Very enjoyable show, enhanced by a funny supporting set from Jen Brister. Met Claire at the Global Café prior to the show – lovely as I hadn’t been there in ages, due to not living in Reading during the weeks. Glad to find that Tutu’s Ethiopian Kitchen is still surviving. Claire appeared to have slightly sold out – given our previous anti-diet rants – by going on a low-carb diet. She had indeed lost quite a bit of weight, but I can’t contemplate the thought of giving up bread.

Amused on meeting up with Helen, Ruth and Ali before the show to learn that Ali had recently had a spell of being Mother Christmas – and subsequently a postmistress elf – at some local Winter Wonderland. She didn’t appear to have lasted very long, and was full of tales of slave labour and minimum wage.

Mum stayed over on 13 December after an afternoon at an exhibition at the Museum of London. On the Saturday morning we wandered up to St Peter’s Church to have a potter around its Christmas Market, before meeting Ruth at the Alto Lounge for lunch. In the churchyard, Mum was interested in the memorial to William Crawshay II, a South Wales ironmaster who later retired to Caversham Park.

Went for our Information Office Christmas lunch on Thursday at The Crooked Billet at Newton Longville. Nice pub and food was pretty good, though its concession to the season was pretty minimal, leading Victoria to ask the waitress in somewhat aggrieved fashion as we were leaving why we hadn’t had any crackers. I found myself sitting next to Nick, our director, which always creates an initial pressure to make polite conversation, but in fact Nick was happy to outline his plans for his forthcoming retirement.

Returned to Reading on Thursday evening for our Christmas Book Group meeting at Claire’s. As I think I’ve missed the previous three meetings, partly because of the travel inconvenience and partly because I’ve been a bit off reading, I was determined to make this one, and had actually managed to finish the book, J K Rowling’s The Casual Vacancy. Bloody good read, I thought, and was a bit disappointed at the dismissive attitude of most of the others who’d managed to finish it. Some of the disparaging comment seemed essentially to stem from the fact that JKR has had the effrontery to write something that isn’t Harry Potter, and the rest seemed to relate to the characters not being likeable. Um, no, but that’s probably real life for you. Currently considering joining a different book group that’s actually capable of having objective discussions.

With the impending release of the second instalment of Peter Jackson’s version of The Hobbit, Ray and I reminded ourselves of the content of Part 1 on Wednesday evening, as I purchased the extended edition DVD on its release in November. Some of the extra bits were enjoyable, particularly the additional scenes in Rivendell, partly because I am extremely partial to Hugo Weaving’s portrayal of Master Elrond (not ‘Lord’ – that’s a cinematic invention). It’s possibly not strictly in the spirit of Tolkien canon, as I seem to recall it being implied in the books that Elrond is a kind and reasonably gentle chap, whereas Weaving’s Elrond is not someone you would push too far in an argument, but all the same. We’ve booked tickets to see Part 2 next Monday afternoon.

A complicated business, booking cinema tickets these days – while trying to avoid the HFR (high frame rate) version of The Hobbit, as I wasn’t too sure about this last time, I was surprised to also be offered the choice of filtering on ‘Autism Friendly’ films. I didn’t look up quite what this meant, but the mind boggles.

Finally forced myself this morning to try out Roni’s Hand Car Wash on the V8 at Peartree Bridge, which several people at the OU have recommended. Quite an operation, and certainly not just a couple of blokes with sponges: you pull up to the first set of chaps who hose the worst of the dirt off your car (quite a lot of it, in my case), then pull a bit further on where you’re soaped, then you drive your car on to a small turntable where it’s turned 90 degrees for you to drive in to a more traditional car wash arrangement, which hoses you off. During this stage you make your choice of service from the card handed to you. Then you drive out to the final set of chaps, who polish and buff your car – and do the inside of it, depending on the service you choose – while you’re sent inside to the waiting room. All quite impressive, and a bargain at £10 for cleaning both inside and out.

Wandered along at 5pm to Simpson church to see the switching on of the lights on the tree that was planted by the church in November. Quite sweet, though I didn't stick around for the sing-song that was evidently pending afterwards.

Post-war loveliness; blue chicken; walk

Went with Ray to the ‘Brutal and Beautiful’ exhibition on 23 November at English Heritage’s Quadriga Gallery inside the Wellington Arch. The exhibition was very interesting and nicely done, focusing on listed post-war buildings, and is apparently one of a series of exhibitions to mark the centenary of the 1913 Ancient Monuments Act. It included various interesting short films, including architect Peter Aldington talking about his three beautiful houses at Haddenham, one of which he evidently still lives in.

I had never guessed that the Wellington Arch contained a gallery space – the space is over three floors but is really pretty tiny, so it was lucky that it wasn’t very crowded. In the first exhibition room, there’s a bit of history about the arch and the story of the various statues that have adorned the top of it, including the statue of Wellington on horseback which was apparently mercilessly lampooned at the time as being disproportionate (and was later moved to Aldershot, perhaps as some sort of punishment) before being replaced by the current Quadriga. We went out onto each of the two terraces and had a gander at the view.

Photos of the day here. We started the day by walking to the branch of Carluccio’s on Westbourne Grove for breakfast, then down across Hyde Park; after visiting the Arch we walked down via Belgrave Square to the King’s Road where we had lunch at Mori. Then Ray caught a taxi back to Paddington as he had a late afternoon appointment to get some work done on the van, and I nipped in to Peter Jones to use the facilities, before catching a v. convenient bus (am rapidly becoming a convert to buses over tubes) heading up via Tottenham Court Road. In the event I didn’t get that far, as I couldn’t resist getting off the bus in Trafalgar Square to photograph the super blue chicken – or the blue cock, as it is more directly called in this article.

Met Ruth in Heal’s and we had tea in the very civilised Heal’s Quarter Café and a brief discussion of the term 'Fitzrovia', which Ruth had evidently though was some sort of made-up word in manner of Narnia. Then proceeded down to Leicester Square, as Ruth fancied seeing a film but had kindly tried to cater to my lukewarm attitude towards going to the cinema by picking out a couple of films that she thought might be my cup of tea. We ended up seeing Le Week-End, which is well done though difficult to watch in parts; Guardian review here.

Slightly horrified by the crowds outside the Odeon, before realising that they were nearly all there to see the sequel to The Hunger Games. Le Week-End was showing in the tiny Screen 2 of the Odeon Mezzanine, next door. We followed up the film with dinner at the nearby branch of Café Rouge in Irving Street.

Received a texted photo from Ray last week of the Vile Cardoon, now excised from our garden and planted in the garden of Ray’s employer Laurence, who has apparently given Ray carte blanche to plant what he likes. Although it may have been pruned to a stump at the moment, have warned Ray that it grows like the blazes and will need hacking back within a fortnight.

Enticed Ruth out for another walk on Sunday (she is getting better at this), this time from Whitchurch back to Caversham via the path through the Hardwick Estate and Mapledurham. It was only as we got off the train at Pangbourne that I remembered that Whitchurch Bridge is closed for repairs until next year, but luckily there's been a temporary structure erected for pedestrians. The walk took in some ponies, a field of alpacas at Bozedown Farm and a vegetable stall with an honesty box, where Ruth bought some muddy sprouts that she then shoved into my rucksack. We followed it with another late lunch at The Griffin.

The walk took in two atmospheric gates which I was compelled to photograph: the mossy but splendid gates at the eastern end of the Hardwick Estate (left), and this rusty gate on The Warren in Caversham (above right), which must at one time have led into someone's garden, presumably, but which is now just standing by itself.

The article on Hardwick linked above claims that 'indeed there is strong circumstantial evidence pointing to Toad Hall being Hardwick House'. Sometimes wish that the half-dozen or so houses in the Thames Valley that claim this would get together and settle it with a fight.