More Raja Yoga; substandard art; crafting

My new Alce Harfield painting is now ensconced on the living room chimney breast. Am mightily pleased with it.

On Saturday, went to Part 2 of the Raja Yoga course. As is the way of these things, several people who were at the first session had dropped out, including two overly religious types, which made for a pleasanter atmosphere. Marginally more time was spent practising meditation, and some of the lecture was interesting/useful - we were introduced to the concept of 'sanskaras' which seems to relate to the standard positive-thinking-book advice of using positive affirmations to overcome subconscious thinking patterns, though it sounds more poncey to say it in Sanskrit.

While killing some time before the class I went for a wander around part of the new West Village, a housing development that's being built on the former site of Battle Hospital, along with a mammoth new Tesco. According to this piece from 2007, it's intended to be "a vibrant 'happening' place to live". Not sure about that. I've certainly seen the Oxford Road referred to as a 'vibrant' and 'colourful' area, but sometimes suspect that to be a euphemism for 'high crime rate'.

Tesco caused a certain amount of controversy while preparing the site a few years ago by felling a large number of trees that were protected by Tree Preservation Orders - and presumably then just going "Oops, sorry" when challenged. I sent them an outraged letter of complaint at the time together with my cut-up Clubcard and since then have only shopped there when there's no alternative - not that I imagine that bothers them in the slightest. There's little remaining of the old hospital buildings apart from the entrance gate, which seems to have been kept. I was, my mother tells me, born in Battle Hospital, though I don't remember it myself.

Trekked up to St Joseph’s Convent School on Sunday (via Burger King to address Ruth’s low blood sugar) to support the 3rd Annual Reading Art Exhibition & Sale. We paid our £3 to get in and spent a while browsing the exhibits, which were mainly paintings with a few ceramics thrown in. Apart from a few cute pots, didn’t see anything that particularly grabbed me, and some of the stuff was truly frightful – series of paintings of cutesy animals in clothes, sort of cross between Beatrix Potter and Sylvanian Families, and ghastly New Agey fat nymph/angel surrounded by stuck-on flowers and glitter. In fairness, I think it was open to both amateurs and professionals.

The school itself looks somewhat in need of a refurb – one wonders if the decision to accept boys as of this year, and the change of name to ‘St Joseph’s College’, is part of a drive to improve its financial position. They do have a pleasant garden out back with some mature trees, and what looked like a grotto-type area with a statue of the Virgin Mary. The exhibition featured presumably recently-produced bannerstands with pictures of boys strategically inserted.

We made our way home via the Forbury Retail Park and a peruse of Hobbycraft, where Ruth surprised me for lingering for quite a while looking at technical drawing equipment, while I hung around aimlessly feeling somewhat footsore. There are an amazing number of magazines dedicated to crafting, it seems. Was also intrigued by an entire book devoted to designs for knitted toilet roll holders. Have been vaguely ruminating for a while over the idea of taking up sewing, thinking that it would be useful to make one’s own clothes – though I daresay it takes one a while to reach the necessary degree of proficiency. May attempt to acquire a secondhand sewing machine and learn the basics – may set an initial target of making a kaftan out of an old duvet cover.

On Tuesday we duly trooped up to view Temporary Office Building 1 and were entranced by the sheer drabness of Spur K, the ‘wing’ that is to be our new home. At present it looks as though it was last occupied around 30 years ago, but apparently an express paint and refurb job is planned prior to our arrival.

Sulham Valley; Raja Yoga; impending new premises

Parked up with Ray at Sulham Woods early on Saturday morning for the first in what is supposed to be a regular series of once-a-month walks to aid with general fitness (in between all the other good things I am obviously doing, like going to the gym, Pilates, running on the spot etc). We had coffee and bacon rolls in the car park off Sulham Hill while watching a whole crowd of militant-looking dog walkers arriving and striding off into the woods, and then ambled off the other way down the hill to the left turn into Nunhide Lane, a public bridleway running north-south from Sulham down to Theale. It was misty when we started out (about 7.45am) but once the sun broke through it turned really quite nice. Saw a number of pillboxes (including this cute one that appeared to have a tree growing out of it) which Ray thought could have formed one of several 'stop lines' of the little concrete cuties; this document suggests that an anti-tank ditch was dug from the Kennet & Avon Canal through the Sulham Gap to the Thames at Pangbourne, so I guess they were probably connected to that. Anyway. Military history not really my thing. This person appears to have done a whole photographic study of pillboxes in the Sulham Valley, which apparently offers rich pickings for pillbox enthusiasts.

The walk passed Nunhide Farm, which has a beautiful old farmhouse (not the house that can be seen in the Geograph link - that's just a regular house although probably it belongs to the farm) which looked to us as though it was empty and in need of some TLC, and then off up behind the farm passed the listed dovecote known as The Pigeon Tower, built by a local Reverend for his lady love so that she could see it from her house and think of him. The walk skirted the edge of Tilehurst and down Pincents Lane, past Pincents Manor and the now-defunct Pincents Manor golf course, to the retail area that has, really quite excitingly, been acquired by IKEA, although nothing further seems to be happening at the moment and there seem to be the usual objections on traffic grounds, although as the site is just off a motorway junction and not near a residential area it would seem more than ideal, but maybe I'm missing something. Anyway, the rest of the walk took in a footbridge over Sulham Brook and the Moor Copse nature reserve, which, along with approximately 2,000 other places locally, is reputed to have provided Kenneth Grahame with inspiration for The Wind in the Willows and, rather more interestingly, has apparently been the scene of some woodland naughtiness, although I can't say we saw anyone lurking about hopefully. We walked down a section of the old A340 over Hogmoor Bridge and Ray spotted the cat's eyes still in the old road. We then made our way to Tidmarsh and then across country back to Sulham Woods.

In the afternoon, I went along to Battle Library for the first session of a three-part 'Introduction to Raja Yoga Meditation', run on behalf of Brahma Kumaris UK by the charming Clive and Esme. Rather more academic than I had expected and rather less time spent actually meditating, but I shall go along next week and see how it pans out. Met Clare, who seemed to share my view that we were just hoping to calm and focus the mind, rather than being particularly interested in God, the soul, etc. Our homework was, among other things, to spend the week repeating the affirmation "I am a being of light".

Our team's office move to Temporary Office Building 1 is getting ever closer and is now scheduled for mid-November, although it seems to have run into a number of hitches. Despite having been scheduled over a year ago, the 'new' building apparently still has no computer points and has water leaking from the ceiling in one place. In addition, several of the rooms are apparently locked and the keys cannot be found. Given that the university owns the buildings, why the locks can't simply be changed is a bit of a mystery, but there you go. Not starting to pack quite yet.

Crusty pubs; Cardiff; Millennium trilogy

The electrical work is now officially complete, except that I think some tweaks are needed to the new porch light's motion sensor. Probably need to consult the manual I was left, though Adam has offered to come back and tweak it if need be. The new LED downlights in the upstairs hallway and stairwell look great. Just need to do up the rest of the décor to match now.

After an unrewarding meeting at Oxford & Cherwell Valley College last Friday afternoon, met Claire at the Hobgoblin where we met up with some friends of her boyfriend, who has recently returned home to the US. The Hobgoblin is a small, quirky pub, very real ale-oriented and with a strictly-enforced rule about not using your mobile phone inside - one girl near me who tried to received a bellowed "Outside, please!" from the American barmaid. A number of people seem to have their own tankards behind the bar - unfamiliar with this but I guess it goes on. Spotted one woman sitting at the end of the bar with a handle-free tankard with what looked like Elvish runes on it. Probably sums up the clientele. I had a pint of something quite nice that I've forgotten the name of.

Had lovely long weekend with Mum on another UK city break, to follow on from our trip to Manchester last year. Cardiff was this year's destination, suggested by me as I thought Mum might enjoy visiting her hometown; also not too far to travel. We met at Cardiff Central station mid-morning on Friday and went straight to The Plan in the Morgan Arcade for a second breakfast. We then went and dumped our bags at our hotel, the Premier Inn Cardiff City Centre, before walking back into the city and picking up a map for the Cardiff Centenary Walk, which began with St John's Church (where we were accosted by an enthusiastic young woman asking if we wanted her to pray with us) and then moved on to Cardiff's indoor market which still has rabbits and kittens (among other things) on its upper level. Resisted the urge to a) become extremely depressed; b) buy all of them and take them home with me. The route also took in the Animal Wall that runs alongside Bute Park (apparently a programme to restore the animals kicked off in July of this year, which will include restoring the anteater's missing nose) and the exterior walls of Cardiff Castle. We gave the Great British Cheese Festival a miss as it was £8.50 to get in - you'd want quite a few free cheese samples for that.

The walk then took us to Cathays Park via a quick peek at a little stretch of water that was the dock feeder for the defunct Glamorganshire Canal - the pedestrian underpass that leads under the main road was formerly part of the route of the canal. Apparently the towpath is still visible, but we couldn't see it. After a look at the impressive civic buildings at Cathays Park we went to visit the National Museum of Wales, where we tried to find the leatherback turtle that Mum remembered from previous visits, but discovered on enquiring that he was in one of several galleries closed for refurbishment. We were able to admire the impressive entrance hall and staircases, and have tea and cake in the ground floor café.

We had dinner on the Saturday evening at Giovanni's, a long-established Italian restaurant that Mum had heard good reports of. Kitschy decor, largely involving Giovanni in poses with assorted minor celebrities, and over-loud music which Mum gamely asked them to turn down (which they did, ever so slightly). Had a delicious seafood pasta.

Sunday was mainly spent visiting Cardiff Bay - we decided to walk from the hotel down through Butetown, which Mum remembered as an area of densely-packed terraced housing but which apparently underwent a massive clearance and rebuilding in the 1960s. The area to the west of Bute Street still looked depressed to us and as though it hadn't been significantly uplifted by the new Bay development. After some difficulty we located the Butetown History & Arts Centre, which appeared to be undergoing a refit and consisted of only a smallish number of books and photographs, but did come complete with a chatty elderly man who regaled us with stories of the history of the area before talking Mum into buying a book.

We went for lunch at the lovely Bosphorus overlooking the Bay before walking out along the Cardiff Bay Barrage Coast Path to have a look at the Barrage, and then back to Mermaid Quay (the main hub) to catch the Waterbus back up the Taff into the city. In the evening we went for a curry at the Juboraj, which apparently enjoys the 'very enviable position of being at the pinnacle of Bangladeshi and Indian cuisine in South Wales today'. Hmm. Meal was nice enough though we were the only diners in the restaurant, which never adds to the atmosphere. Made our respective ways home on the Monday morning after another breakfast at The Plan.

My Book Group has just romped through Part 3 of Stieg Larsson's Millennium trilogy, which seems to have been a major hit with all of us except Claire. We are, of course, all completely in love with Blomkvist - which I can't help now pronouncing musically Blooom-kvist after seeing the Swedish film of Part 1. Also had a surprisingly OK Singapore chow mein from the Chinese takeaway across the road from Lesley's.

Wednesday 22 September 2010

Hairdressing angst; bleak suburbia; messing about in boats

Rant for the week: prices of ladies’ haircuts. Have realised that I may be forced to move on from Alison Hair, the suburban pensioner-friendly salon at the end of my road that charges me a reasonable £21, as the lovely Lisa has substantially reduced her hours and the salon owner looks a tad too much like Bet Lynch for me to fancy booking in with her. This means though that if I want to pay less than £40 for a cut and blow dry I’ll have to either find another old-lady salon or cut my own hair. Ruth recommended Karin, the mobile hairdresser whom she and Helen have been using for the last 10 years or so, but although Karin seems a pleasant woman and does a good job on their hair, I fear her ditsiness and my anal-retentiveness would be an explosive combination (she seems to manage to get lost each time on the way to the house and sees nothing wrong with changing their appointment times at short notice, often to something patently obviously in the middle of the working day).

Visited four town centre hairdressers to get a representative view of the going rate, but was quoted around £40 by all of them, despite the fact that all I wanted was an inch off the ends. One of the salons I visited, Kirokara Hairdressing on Duke Street, apparently offer state-of-the-art Shiatsu massage chairs, but even that wasn't enough of a lure. They also have the cheek to offer something called 'Pamper Me Mondays' at only 'a credit crunching £80' – obviously some kind of merchant bankers’ credit crunch. Also the stylist I spoke to looked as though he had a gammy eye, but I guess that shouldn't be held against him. I ended up having a dry trim at Heidi's on Union Street (aka Smelly Alley) for £21, which covered not more than five minutes in the chair with a supremely uninterested stylist. Came home and booked in for the next available Saturday with Lisa, in a month's time. There's nothing for it but to be better organised.

Paid my first ever visit to South Ruislip last Friday to visit Sarah, a friend from PhD days whom I had not seen for about six years, partly because she’s been living in Paris until recently and I’ve been too slack to get around to arranging a visit. Had a great few hours’ catch-up though we had to postpone our planned evening drink in Notting Hill as Sarah had woken up with a frozen shoulder. From what I saw of South Ruislip it’s a rather bleak pebble-dashed suburb the centre of which seems to consist of a row of Chinese restaurants, tanning salons etc flanking the main road from the tube station. Sarah and her partner Chris are currently living cheaply in a house owned by a friend but I gathered that, being city people, there was some doubt as to whether they would be likely to be able to bear living there long-term.

Went to the Royal County of Berkshire (aka Newbury) Show on Saturday, for the first time in about 15 years. Watched the heavy horses doing their thing and then what I gather is called a pony scurry. We met up with Ruth’s aunt for lunch, who got us guest access to the Members’ Enclosure where we had hog roast. After lunch had a bit of a wander round to look at the animals, including llamas, pigs and chickens but managed to miss seeing the cattle so no marvelling at enormous bulls etc. I was hoodwinked into buying a far too large tub of feta-stuffed chilis, which I will now have to spend the next month or so eating.

Had the excitement on Monday of a trip down the Thames on Ray’s boat. He and his friend Alan have now completed a boat-handling course and took the boat out on its maiden voyage last week. Seems to be going well although I gather some things (e.g. rope throwing) take a bit of getting the hang of. They picked Ruth and me up from alongside Christchurch Meadows and we had a lovely pootle down the river to Pangbourne, where we moored up for a second breakfast, and then on to Goring, where we turned round just before the lock and returned to Reading. Saw quite a number of herons and Ruth claimed to have seen a kingfisher. We both had a go at steering – takes a severe degree of concentration at first but presumably gets easier.

As of today (Wednesday) Adam from AHL Electrical and two colleagues are thumping about in the house doing the various tasks that form part of ‘Electrical work 2010’. Still not sure I’ve bought the right bulb for the new porch light but hoping they will advise me. Corraling the bunnies safely has proved a bit of a challenge. Methinks they will go for a couple of days’ board at Reading Rabbit Rescue the next time we have any work done.

Tapas; evening route marches; seaside

Had a lovely dinner with Kate at the Alto Lounge on Friday 3^rd. This was positively reviewed on eatmytown in April – am more or less in agreement with the comments including re the default 175ml wine glasses. Kate and I had the tapas, which was lovely although their tapas menu does contain some dishes that are unusual and possibly not 100% typically Spanish (honey-glazed shredded 5 spice pork belly?). My main complaint is that when they first opened their egg & bacon stack off the breakfast menu was served with maple syrup and was delicious; some time afterwards they sneakily changed this to golden syrup. No, it’s not the same thing. Golden syrup is used to make flapjacks. You don’t eat it on your breakfast.

Walked up to the marina on the Sunday morning to have breakfast with Ray. He had managed to turn the boat round to enable painting of the unpainted side, though I gather not without a certain amount of difficulty and photographing by fellow boat owners. Unfortunately it started raining shortly after we started our breakfast on the rear deck, but we erected the umbrella and carried on.

Went out with Ruth for what I thought was going to be a brief early evening stroll on Wednesday 8^th and ended up, rather surprisingly at her suggestion, walking along the Thames to Sonning. It was a lovely evening and a very pleasant walk (pictures here) though the scenery improves once one passes the gas towers and Thames Valley Business Park. I managed to throw off my slight concern at not having had time to research buses home from Sonning, as I am often told I should be more spontaneous. We walked along a lovely stretch of the river past a number of narrowboats moored up. At Sonning Bridge we left the Thames Path and turned off up into the village – Sonning is a wealthy, immaculate, chocolate-box village that is pleasant for a stroll through but looks a bit sterile to live in (I say this, obviously, in the full knowledge that I am unlikely ever to be rich enough to do so anyway). We made our way to The Bull and had a drink outside and then dinner, to make the walk fully worthwhile. We left at 8pm and did the roughly hour-long walk back to Caversham, in semi-darkness for the last stretch. Quite a lot of exercise for one evening.

Possibly brought on by cabin fever after having had a week off work at home, Ruth booked us a last minute weekend in Bournemouth last weekend (pictures here). We took a lovely direct train on the Friday morning and checked in to the Bournemouth Westcliffe Premier Inn, a monster of a new hotel situated on Poole Road on the western side of the town. After lunch we went to visit the Russell-Cotes Art Gallery & Museum, an incredible emporium of OTT Victoriana that Sir Merton and Lady Russell-Cotes had built around 1900 to house their private collection of paintings, furniture, miscellaneous curios and things nicked from foreign folk abroad. The interior is so gaudily decorated and so stuffed with things that one feels mildly queasy after a while. Even the house itself, originally called East Cliff Hall, would have done well for a moderating hand – Mr Russell-Cotes had apparently not been able to resist tweaking his architect’s design, evidently deciding that it contained insufficient turrets and other random twiddly bits, and the resulting house is a mad incoherent fantasy, though according to Sir Merton it was supposed to be a fusion of Scottish Baronial and Italian Renaissance. The Russell-Cotes had travelled extensively abroad and had brought back souvenirs a-plenty; the guide to the Mikado’s Room quotes Merton as saying that they were so taken with Japan they filled around a dozen trunks with assorted antique artefacts to ship back to England. In some cases one does wonder how legitimately they came by some of the stuff – the blurb in one of the rooms relates the particularly amusing story of the Empress Eugenie of France visiting Russell-Cotes Towers and spotting an elaborate dresser that, the last she knew, had been in one of her houses. Whether Sir Merton and Lady blushed and gave it back to her isn’t recorded.

After a late-afternoon film (Tamara Drewe) and a brief stop-off to look at the light show in the square, we had dinner at Ristorante La Piazza, where I had vitello pizzaiola and we shared a bottle of Sauvignon Friuli. On the way back to the hotel we stopped off at a couple of gay bars in the Triangle area, apparently part of my education: The Branksome , populated by some variously craggy and desperate-looking trannies, and the glossier DYMK with a younger clientele. Basically though I just don’t like noisy bars, gay or otherwise, so gritted my teeth throughout much of the time we were there.

On Saturday morning we had breakfast at the lovely and very convenient Olive Bistro and then, after a quick whiz into WHSmith to satisfy my urge for an A-Z, took the bus to Poole and had a (slightly longer than planned) walk down Canford Cliffs Road and the surrounding very well-heeled streets down to the cliffs, where we briefly admired the view before walking through Pinecliff Gardens down to the sea. Stopped for tea in the Terrace Bar of the Branksome Beach restaurant before walking back along the beach towards Bournemouth, via a quick stroll around Alum Chine. Took the West Cliff Lift back up to town level and popped into the Bournemouth Highcliff Marriott Hotel where Ruth gamely tried to book us a table for dinner in the Highcliff Grill, but we were told they were full. Damn them and their nice-sounding seafood. As Ruth talks dead posh we assumed it wasn't simply because we were wearing jeans and waterproofs. Anyway, walking back inland we found the lovely Westpoint and stopped off for whitebait (me), a pint of prawns (R) and two Budweisers.

We returned to our hotel room to chill for a few hours – had the novelty of a nice bubble bath in a bath that doesn’t leak – before trying out the Ciao Restaurant – nice pizza but noisy and a bit of a trek. The cabbie who drove us back to the hotel deflated our spirits temporarily by telling us that it was mainly younger people who hung out in that part of town and suggested a club in a different part of town that apparently we might enjoy (presumably equipped with comfy sofas, Zimmer frame access etc). On the Sunday I left Ruth in bed and went for an early-morning walk as, ironically, it was a beautiful morning and the nicest weather of the weekend. Took a number of blue-sky beach pics before joining Ruth for breakfast and then the train back to Reading.

My first visit to Bournemouth was for a week’s holiday in the company of my primary school friend Celia and her family in 1980 (a few pics here). Celia’s family owned a (detached, with driveway) holiday home in Sandbanks, additional to the sizeable property they owned back in Newbury. I remember having a pleasant enough holiday despite Celia’s somewhat stuffy mother and her father’s obsession with his SodaStream¹. Since then, I’ve only visited for a couple of days, one in the company of my family, as I remember Mum and I having a row in one of the town centre parks, and the second with Ray sometime in the mid-1990s, when I got badly sunburnt shoulders after a sunny walk along the beach.


¹ What is with the recent revival of these? They were a white elephant in the first place along the lines of the Sinclair C5. This MSN 'Most embarrassing gadgets' link has it about right. Of all the complicated ways to get a fizzy drink. You have to buy a bottle of (say) cola-flavoured concentrate which you then fire through the machine and it comes out as a fizzy and vaguely cola-flavoured drink. As opposed to just going to a shop and buying a can of Coke. Bizarre.

Walk around south-east Reading

4 September 2010

Walked from home to Jacksons Corner and caught bus 17 to Palmer Park Avenue. PPA is a pleasant Victorian terraced street looking out over Palmer Park.

Houses on Palmer Park Avenue

Walked along to the end of the road and under the A329M on to Culver Lane, and then turned right onto Anderson Avenue. Poor Anderson Avenue - the gardens of the properties on the west side of the road were completely ravaged by the construction of the A329 relief road. Not sure exactly when this was constructed - around 1970? There are initially no houses on the west side of the road and I'm wondering if some houses were demolished. The first pair of houses, numbers 34 and 36, looked to me to have no garden at all - the back windows must look straight out onto the road barrier. Awful. Did the residents get compensation for the compulsory purchase of their gardens? It must have massively devalued their properties in one hit. Anderson Avenue now ends in a dead end (pictured; the trough of the A329 is on the left hand side), though I don't know whether this was always the case.

The southern end of Anderson Avenue

Walked along Church Road for a bit noting the two very old houses mentioned in Pevsner, tucked among the newer additions - Bulmershe Cottage (no.36) and no. 46 with its cute little Gothic-style windows. Of the 20th century houses, 'Pantiles' (no. 108) is interesting with its spare facade and black Crittall-style windows. Nipped into Eastcourt Avenue to take a look at Woodley Hill House, part of Bracknell & Wokingham College. There didn't look to be much else of interest there so I retraced my steps down Church Road stopping for a quick look around the churchyard of Earley St Peter's Church. Found some members of the Heelas family in the graveyard (not literally - buried ones); assume they were part of the family who owned the department store that became part of John Lewis.

Churchyard of Earley St Peter's

Continued on to the Earley crossroads, and turned left down Wokingham Road to have a look for the lodge to Maiden Erlegh House mentioned in Pevsner, on the corner of Maiden Erlegh Drive, a tree-lined private road that I contemplated walking down but was too wimpy. It leads to Maiden Erlegh School, a well-regarded local comprehensive built on the site of Maiden Erlegh House, demolished in 1960. From the picture and the description, sounds as though it was a flamboyant place inside and out. Walked back to the crossroads and turned into Whiteknights Road, passing a bungalow on the right, opposite the University's Earley Gate entrance, that I always rather like (pictured). Passed Whiteknights Lake and then turned into Hamilton Road, a long avenue of some impressively large and imposing villas, as well as some lovely more modestly-sized Victorian semis.

House I like

Reaching the end of Hamilton Road I crossed at Cemetery Junction and made my way back down King's Road into town. After a brief stop off at the library and M&S I walked back to Caversham via Reading Bridge.

Kew; ruins; summerhouses

Had a lovely day at Kew Gardens with Ray on the 21st (pictures here). We took the train to Richmond and walked from there up Kew Road to the Lion Gate entrance, tucked away in a corner of the garden, and had a lovely walk around parts of the garden that I don’t normally visit. Visited the Pagoda – which is looking much in need of a lick of paint – and then the Japanese Gateway (Chokushi-Mon), which I don’t remember ever coming across before, although apparently it has been there since 1911. We sat briefly in front of the little gate and its Zen-like garden arrangement and Ray expounded some theory about the rocks representing flowing water which, who knows, may well be true. We then wandered on via the pinetum to the boundary with the River Thames, and watched boats for a while, including a procession of narrowboats coming out of nearby Brentford Lock and heading upstream towards Teddington (apparently the gateway to the non-tidal Thames – you live and learn). After tea and cake in the White Peaks café we visited a couple of the glasshouses, though avoided the butterfly display in the Princess of Wales glasshouse as it was heaving with people. We wandered back to Richmond and sourced a late lunch in the quirky Pazza Idea – funky decor and nice enough food though places that don’t take cards are frustrating.

Torrential rain last week including on the (mainly very young?) revellers arriving for the Festival. Amazing queue of them on Thursday morning by Reading Bridge waiting for the boat to take them along the river to the festival site. Going away for the weekend ensured that we avoided most of the revelry though we did wake up on Monday to discover an abandoned Tesco trolley outside the house. I duly emailed the customer service line to report it and, sure enough, it has gone now. What service.

Set off down to Mum and Dad’s on Friday morning for what is becoming an annual August barbecue weekend. We left early and stopped at Membury service station for breakfast including the traditional overly-pink sausages. Closer to our destination, we stopped off at Raglan Castle on a whim – were slightly stung by the entrance fee, given that it’s a ruin, but I guess even ruins require upkeep, and Raglan is quite an impressive ruin (pictures here). We lucked out and there was a sunny window in the generally gloomy weather that allowed us to have a pleasant poke around the ruins, moat etc. Ruth bought a necklace in the gift shop and I bought a cute greetings card with a sheep on it.

On Saturday Dave and Ben did sterling work helping Dad erect his new summerhouse (pictures), complete with cute little acorn finial on the top, while Hannah burned a huge pile of leylandii branches on a (very smoky) bonfire. By the time the barbecue was lit the sun had gone in rather and it was slightly on the cool side, but we had it anyway.

Building work on the London Road campus continues apace. Demolition of the building adjoining ours is supposed to begin soon, so we are braced for loud noises. A 'track mat walkway' has now been set up across the main lawn as the cloisters are now largely blocked off to enable, among other things, removal of asbestos from their ducts.

An almost microscopically insignificant piece of news is that my rarely-used coffee bean grinder is no more. Had run out of ground coffee on Monday morning so resorted to grinding some beans out of the packet I keep in reserve on a top shelf, but was reminded that the grinder has never been very efficient. Ruth offered to try and fix it and duly took it apart and made me wash the rust and cobwebs off the components, but was then unable to reassemble it again (a crucial screw in an inaccessible position, apparently). Here I am throwing it in the bin. Ah well.