First attempts with new toy...

So: I bought myself a cheap toy camera.

I've been struggling for a while with the frustration of not being able easily to get photographs in a form that was electronic and hence uploadable.  I found I could order copies of my films on cd rom, but the cost of that mounts up, to say the least, and I realised that fairly soon I would have spent the price of a bottom-of-the-range tinny digital camera, given just how bloody cheap they are getting these days.

So I took myself to Boots - the big Boots in Westfield (Westfield shopping centre, aka The Good Ship Axiom from "Wall-E") - and waited ten minutes until the chap who knew about cameras was free, and I bought one.

Chap-who-knew-about-cameras was charming and enthusiastic and an all-round nice friendly guy.  It was rather like being served by a young Will Smith, only from west London not the USA.  He really did know about cameras, too, and he gave me lots of advice, talked me through all the features, and was perfectly happy to accept it as I worked my way round to buying one of the cheapest ones they sold.

So now I have a little toy.  I've begun trying to get used to it and to experiment with what it will and won't do well.  Initial examples of things it seemingly won't do well are above, but there are some slightly better things to come...  And it's early days yet.

After buying a camera I fled in shock to the tapas bar in one of the huge atria, and had gambas al ajillo and a glass of tinto di verano, yum, good food, yum; and then treated myself to the dvd of the director's cut of "Bladerunner", in a sale, some sensible black cotton trousers, likewise in a sale, and a packet of halva.  Yum again.  I felt like the last of the big spenders by then; new hardware and trousers and a dvd and lunch out?  Shocking.

I'll post some more of the photos in a bit.

Kingston-upon-Thames; a review

I don't normally do shop reviews, but I have to make an exception.  In recent weeks I've tried to do Christmas shopping in central London, in Chiswick and in Richmond.  Some expeditions were more successful than others, at least as far as finding what I was looking for.  But all were crowded, hassled and stressful.  The West End is ghastly at this time of year, so I expected the stress and hassle; but I didn't expect Richmond, or the Chiswick High Road, to be as grim as they were...

But yesterday I went into Kingston.  I needed a branch of Lakeland, and there's one on Thames Street, near John Lewis.  And I made two very interesting discoveries.

Firstly, I discovered that Kingston on a Sunday afternoon, nine days before Christmas,was busy enough to be bustling, but not so busy as to be unpleasant.  The streets were just crowded enough to feel lively, yet I never once had to slow down or break my stride; there was always room to manoeuvre, room to breathe, room to stroll and stop and window shop...  There was a great atmosphere, there were buskers playing in the streets - some of them very good - and a huge craft market near St John's church.  Kingston has all the big High Street names you'd expect, plus a lot of independent retailers, plus a lot of cafés and restaurants (also a good mixture of big-name chains and independents).  Staff in the shops were busy but not desperate; no-one looked as if they wanted to die, and I can't remember when I was last served by so many friendly people in such a short space of time.  I found everything I was looking for except one book.  And because I went to Kingston, the business of doing the last of my Christmas shopping was comfortable and civilised, even fun, and that is a rare thing in late December.  It was Christmas shopping heaven.

Secondly, I discovered the best hot chocolate ever.  There's a branch of Montezuma's on Fife Street.  Montezuma's make some of the best chocolate around, so of course I had to go in, even though it was half-past two and I was meant to be finding somewhere where I could grab a coffee and a sandwich.  But, having entered the store, I found myself looking at a sign saying "Café upstairs". Yes; there is such a thing as a Montezuma's Café.  Oh. My. God.

I crept upstairs, suddenly aware of how tired my legs were, and found they had plenty of seats and some mellow light jazz playing; and two minutes later I was sinking my nose into a delectable Large Canadian.

Yes, I know how kinky that sounds.  Montezuma's called it a Large Canadian, not me!  I was not doing anything enjoyably wicked to Nathan Fillion.  I was drinking superb, rich, dark, strong hot chocolate with a generous splash of maple syrup in it, and I was in paradise. 

The maple syrup made the hot chocolate devilishly sweet, but also gave it that subtle, smoked-butterscotch note that is the reason why maple syrup is such an invention of the Gods anyway.  The final marvel is that as well as being the best-tasting drinking chocolate I've ever come across, this mug of heaven also didn't get a skin as it cooled.  How do they do that?  The only other place I've ever found hot choc that didn't skin over was in Granada (where it isn't really a drink - it's goo, and is intended purely for the dipping of churros). 

Anyway, I had a toasted cheese sandwich, a peaceful sit-down with nice music, and the best hot chocolate I've ever come across in my life.  Then I went out, restored and refreshed (having paused to buy a few truffles, of course) and managed to buy everything else I was looking for.  Then I got rained on; but no day is perfect.  And at least the chocolate was.

Rock Chick at work...

I have pinched this picture from TCI's facebook page; if I get a bollocking for it, I'll have to delete it!  But it's not often you get to see a photograph of me (I'm camera shy) so I thought this might amuse.  Chutney-making is a serious business, don't you know? 

We made about eight lbs of Apricot and Walnut Chutney, about six lbs of Mixed Fruit Chutney, and about 4 1/2 lbs of an improvised (& very pink) jam made of apples, pears, raspberries and a healthy slug of Crème de Cassis.  "We" being TCI, her pal Alex and me; G. was rehanging the kitchen door at the same time, so there were wood shavings flying around as well and a fair old racket going on.  It was a bit manic, but huge fun.  Having three of us doing all the chopping up made things a lot quicker, though the actual cooking still took a couple of hours for each chutney. 

We had just a scrap left in the pan from the mixed fruit one, so sampled it dobbed onto chunky slivers of sheep's milk cheese.  God, that was good!  I must remember that if I am ever trying to make food I can feed someone with in tidbits. 

In the end we all flopped down exhausted and drank several large martinis, and then went out for gnocchi (+ lashings more cheese) at a local Italian restaurant.  Then I crawled home on the Tube.  A productive Sunday.

Saturday was productive, too; I managed to sort out about half my Christmas gift buying in one mad swoop on Oxford Street.  And in and around all this busyness, sitting on Tubes or buses, or crashed over coffee in John Lewis's, I wrote a couple of short extra sections for "Gold Hawk" and made a pile of notes towards a potential sequel - which led me to start wondering if there's even room for two sequels. This is ridiculous, but a fun thought.  I mean, I started off with just this vague idea for a story, just five months ago, and now I'm getting sequelitis.  I love The Muse; she is the most wonderful thing in my life.  Blessed be!

Good days of many kinds

It’s such a beautiful day.

The sky is clear deep blue, there’s a fresh breeze, and a chaffinch is singing in the tree outside my office window. I went out into the Gardens in my lunch break and cycled down to the formal rose garden by the Palm House. It looks an absolute picture. The whole rose garden was replanted last spring, with hundreds of shrub roses donated by David Austin; the whole list is mouth watering, from classic old rose varieties like “Maiden’s Blush” and “Empress Joséphine” through to some of the most recent Modern English Hybrids like “Darcey Bussell” and of course “Kew Gardens”. The scent as they all come into bloom is simply incredible.

I had a lovely weekend and a lovely couple of days off . How lucky I am; I have interesting friends who have parties with home-made meringues, ukulele-playing and a trampoline; I live in an interesting and culturally vibrant city; I have a bit of garden to plant (with a lot of cadging of cuttings and nurturing of seeds); I have my bike, I have my tele and my radio, I have enough money to go to the theatre and occasionally have a meal out…

Friday after work I went to the Royal Ballet triple bill, and was thrilled silly by it. By damn, the Company are at the top of their game at the moment!

Saturday I gardened and did my grocery shopping and cooked a huge casserole and cleaned the whole house and ran the washing machine twice and dyed a pair of old trousers turquoise blue. And was knackered; but felt completely entitled to make whoopee on Sunday.

Sunday I went to a party in Reading and made whoopee; met some extraordinary people, had some fascinating conversations, ate too much, and had a whale of a time on the trampoline. Now that’s what I call a good party; well worth the ridiculous complications of trying to get from Chiswick to Reading and back by public transport on a Sunday (I could probably have got to Stockholm quicker).

Monday I got up late, and gardened.

Tuesday I met my Mum in the West End for a Moroccan lunch and a lot of exhibition-going. An hour in the National Gallery, where the Impressionists and Post-Impressionists have been rehung with some of their other radical contemporaries from elsewhere in the world; then lunch; then to the BM for the South African wildflower landscape, “Treasures of Mediaeval York” (on loan from York Museum) and the exhibition of bronze and terracotta sculptures from the Kingdom of Ife. These last are astonishing. The show closes in early July; if you are in the London area before then, go.

Good days...

Tengo un coliflor...

Yum. Reheated cauliflower with cheese is the tops. I am ridiculously hungry.

This has been an interesting weekend. The first thing that happened was that on Saturday morning the laptop suddenly decided it was no longer ill, and in fact was as good as gold. I am now right up-to-date with my backing up on disc, as I no longer have complete faith in it. But I am baffled as to why it decided to behave again in the first place. I took nothing out, put nothing in, gave it neither reiki nor toast, and was unable to remove its bottom because although this unscrewed it did not come off. Yet it decided it likes me again. I am not complaining - this is not complaining! - this is rather a bemused cousin of joy. With a sidelong glance of deep mistrust.

Still, I have rescued the latest versions off all my projects. That is a Good Thing.

To celebrate I went shopping, no longer for a new laptop but for, appallingly, some shoes. Didn't buy any; bought a jacket instead. Then bought a cd of "MGV"; a marvellous, beautiful, thrilling piece of music by Michael Nyman; restrained myself from buying the whole of the original three "Star Wars" movies on dvd; got the ineffably silly but thoroughly enjoyable "Stargate" (which was in a sale) instead, as well as "Let the Right One in", which will undoubtedly scare the living daylights out of me but is based on a terrific book and is probably worth seeing - just the once, at least.

Then yesterday morning I got all the cutting-out, tacking and fitting of a new skirt done, which just leaves the main sewing (I do this by hand, so it's a slow job, though durable when done). In the afternoon I worked in the garden, and in the evening I went to Club Night at the Chiswick Scottish Country Dance club, which meant several hours of non-stop dancing, plus a slightly odd supper of smoked salmon sandwiches, shortbread and tea.

I am exhausted, and I ache all over, but it was a good weekend.