Word of Mouth…

I receive a lot of innovation-type newsletters in my inbox. I love being inspired by new ideas and clever things that other people are doing.  And this week ended with a real corker – Living Books.

A new public library in Surrey, Canada has come up with the brilliant idea of offering people ‘on loan’ – so you can book in for a coffee and a chat with a volunteer expert to bring your reading experiences to life.

Apparently this idea was born in Europe. Google, unusually, is being a little obtuse and I can’t find out exactly where but there’s a bit of talk about some ideas in the UK here and here. It has already been implemented in a couple of other libraries in Canada but I thought it was a great way of bringing interaction, connection and community spirit back to life in this overtly digital age.

One of my favourite movies is You’ve Got Mail. The Shop Around The Corner is just wonderful and I love the magic that Kathleen Kelly creates there in her enduring passion for books and reading.

Libraries are suffering as we, in this age of cheap consumerism, buy books and dispose of them at will, or even worse cannot maintain levels of concentration beyond a snippet in a newspaper or a piece of celebrity gossip in a magazine. On the other hand, I went to my local library about six months ago and was disappointed with the whole experience of both browsing and the reading ‘ambience’, which did not really encourage me to sit and read anything.

I think it’s inspiring to find public services that seek to create relevant experiences for current and future generations to engage in. I just hope the word spreads to encourage other libraries to think a little differently before public libraries are consigned to the realms of nostalgic rememberings.

Top Marks For Top Girls…

I do like a bit of theatre. I used to subscribe to the MTC when I lived in Melbourne and when I arrived in London in 2004, I promised that I would immerse myself in all the theatrical delights that this great city had to offer. This happened for a little while (as far as my dwindling Aussie Dollars would stretch anyway) until life got in the way.

Seven years later, I have finally managed to rekindle the embers and, inspired by a cheap ticket to see Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead a few weeks ago (which, by the way, was fabulous), I have been keeping my eyes peeled for more special offers of the ‘treading the boards’ kind. And that was how my trip to see Top Girls last Wednesday came about.

Marlene has left her home town to explore the world and try her luck as a career girl in the 80s. The play opens with her at dinner with friends, celebrating her promotion to Managing Director of recruitment firm Top Girls. But this is not just any dinner – her friends are women from history:

Pope Joan, who disguised as a man, is said to have been pope between 854-856 
Isabella Bird, explorer
Dull Gret, the harrower of Hell
Lady Nijo, the Japanese mistress of an emperor and later a Buddhist nun
Patient Griselda, the patient wife from The Clerk’s Tale in Geoffrey Chaucer‘s Canterbury Tales

Statement hair, shoulder pads and much white wine abound and the dinner disintegrates into a quite ribald affair.

The rest of the play covers the period from about a year prior right up until the days following Marlene’s promotion and flicks back and forth from the life Marlene left behind, epitomised by that of her sister Joyce and her daughter Angie, to her high flying role at work. There’s a great sense of breaking into a man’s world in these latter scenes, particularly poignant when it is suggested that Marlene has stolen something (the promotion) from someone who ‘really needs it’ (a man).

I remember this as an under current when I started my career in the early 90s (although things had probably progressed a little since the days of Thatcher’s Britain and I was in Australia several thousand miles away). I also remember feeling quite p*ssed off at the slightly patronising tone of others in response to my ‘no marriage, no kids thank you ‘ mantra back in the day (and the tone didn’t really change until I got into my 40s).  It was extraordinary to have the opportunity to revisit this time in my life, some 20 years later.  How clear things become with 20-20 vision.

I often go along to plays without having any detailed knowledge of the story – I like the sense of discovery this creates rather than knowing what to expect and then having an opinion about whether it (the play) lived up to my expectation.

With Top Girls, this made the dinner scene a little confusing but as the play unfolded, the pennies dropped.

These women each represented different aspects of living in a ‘man’s world’ – whether it was Lady Nijo, who does not see the forced attentions of the Emperor as rape or Patient Griselda, who having promised to obey her husband, amiably forgives his cruelty in taking her children away from her – and the various conversations around the table served to highlight what was ‘expected of them’ as women in their various societies.

So Top Girls was thought-provoking and pithy (in parts), confronting and heart-warming and a great opportunity to revisit the era of Chardonnay and shoulder pads, when women struck another blow for equality, consequences and all.

I absolutely loved it.

If you are in London, you can see Top Girls at London’s Trafalgar Studios until October 29th. You should go peeps, really you should. You can click here to find out how.

After The Dance…3 Sleeps To Go

Today is Day 1 of my pre-birthday long weekend (only 3 sleeps to go peeps…isn’t it exciting?!) and while I’ve been out and about today and have some rather magnificent plans for the rest of the time, I wanted to tell you about an unexpected treat I discovered on telly last night.

I am, by nature, a night owl and would happily stay up til all hours but with my 2 hour each way commute at the moment, I am fairly disciplined about getting myself to bed by 11 each night (and that’s an hour later than what’s known in these parts as Surrey Bedtime) so that I am spritely enough to get myself out the door in an efficient 30mins each morning.  But on holiday, all bets are off and last night I trawled the channels to see what late night movie I might like to partake of.

I came across ‘After The Dance’, a 1992 TV adaption of the play written by Terence Rattigan in the 1930’s.

It’s one of those kinds of plays I loved seeing when I frequented the MTC‘s program in Melbourne – a little Noel-Cowardish in style with the action all taking place in one room (or within earshot of said room). It’s crammed full of gorgeous language, crisp banter and subtle innuendo all the while covering the fragile egos and unspoken political agendas surrounding the era.  Anyway, this film for TV adaption had been made in 1992 by the BBC and re-kindled a whole rash of revivals in the West End in the years to come.

It’s a little slower to get into than modern films but once I settled into listening to and watching for the subtleties, the intrigue crept slowly into the room and curled its wicked fingers – in the form of Helen Banner – through the fabric of David and Joan Scott-Fowler’s 15 year marriage. A small ensemble cast added colourful layers but Rattigan makes a stinging comparison between the ‘Bright Young Things’ of the 20’s and the serious ‘new generation’ facing a society crushed by the onset of World War II.

Frivolous. Sad. Thought-provoking.

I LOVED IT!

And despite this being an adaption for TV, After The Dance made me realise that I’d forgotten how much I enjoy theatre…so I’m off to scour the internet for some super-dooper deals!

In the meantime, land is definitely in sight and the SS 41 is cruising comfortably towards its mooring…

Sleeps To Go…On A Small Island

I have been reading Bill Bryson’s Notes From A Small Island during my commute this week and this morning, I read a page that really struck a chord.

One of the things I am asked by every second (or maybe third) Brit the minute they hear my accent is ‘what are you doing over here?’  Well, let me refer you to page 46 of Bryson’s tome:

“It has more history, finer parks, a livelier and more varied press (nowadays lively in a sinister, phone-tapping kind of way it would seem), better theatres…leafier squares…and more courageous inhabitants than any other large city in the world.”

He also talks about the ‘incidental civilities’

“cheery red pillar boxes, drivers who actually stop for you on pedestrian crossings …lovely forgotten churches …sudden pockets of quiet like Lincoln’s Inn and Red Lion Square…black cabs, double-decker buses…polite notices, people who will stop to help you when you fall down or drop your shopping, benches everywhere.”

 
It inspired me to think about some of the things I love about London and as I was gazing out of the window of the number 57 bus tonight, here are the first five that sprang to mind:

  • the light – it’s soft and beautiful and drapes itself gently over great expanses of countryside within 30mins of London
  • the fabulous place names – I am just dying to get on the bus to see what Seething Wells is all about and St Martin In The Field overlooks not a field but Trafalgar Square

  • the squirrels – skipping across the railing along my front garden, in the tree overhead, the little ones daring to venture a little way along my front path towards my open door before scurrying away at the behest of the bigger ones
  • the sun worship – with the merest hint of sunshine, Londoners appear from every nook and cranny and cram themselves along river banks, in parks and all sorts of public places to bask at lunchtime, after work, on weekends and any available opportunity
Source: Metro.co.uk
  • the irony – the Brit’s do that dry, dry wit better than anyone else – and really know how to poke gentle fun at themselves (and others) as a result.

There are loads of other things and I could go on (and on and on) but this post was inspired by someone else’s vision of the place I call home.  So what about you?  I’d love hear what you love about London, whether it’s your home, your home-away-from-home, a memory captured for holiday posterity or a trigger for the nostalgic yearning of days gone by.

What do you consider worthy of note about this small island? 

ps…there are 20 sleeps to go peeps…that’s less than 3 weeks for all your Gidday shopping and shipping. Just as well I’m super-prepared with my wishlist at the ready should any of you need a little helping hand.  I mean let’s face it, who has to have a wedding to partake of one of those Bridal Register thingies?

These Are The Days Of Our Lives…

‘What??!!’ I hear you say.

Yes, there is one – dedicated to marking the last 120 years or so of British history using the everyday items that have surrounded us. My colleague at work came in a couple of week’s ago bubbling about it, I was working from our offices in central London today and I thought I’d make the most of the fine weather and close proximity.

The brochure says this:

The history of consumer culture is revealed decade by decade in our ‘time tunnel’, from the naive charm of the Victorian era to the sophistication of today.  The exhibits reflect how our daily lives have changed over the years, the unimaginable revolution in shopping habits and the things we buy, the huge impact of motoring, aviation, radio and television, the effects of two world wars, and the gradual emancipation of women.

A tube ride, a wander through Notting Hill and £6.50 later, I  entered the time tunnel for myself.  It was amazing!

I spent almost an hour and a half surrounded by more than 12,000 items from yesteryear.  Gathered from the Robert Opie Collection (and aren’t we rather glad he was a little OCD about this particular passion!), every corner turned revealed more products and brands and their evolution alongside society.

I was fascinated to see products evolving in response to advances in culture, technology and changes in behaviours and attitudes.  Everything was grouped in decades so you could see how the prevailing views of the time were reflected in the products we bought and the things entertained ourselves with.  Royal weddings peppered the trail starting from the marriage of Queen Victoria to her beloved Albert and ending with the recent nuptials of William and Kate.

As I walked out through the cafe, there were rows and rows of old televisions and one of them was playing a reel of old ads – this one was my favourite and a perfect illustration of how products and brands are so integral in our daily lives, yet go unnoticed:

So in short, I loved it.  And you should go!  No kidding…

12 Steps…Losing My Religion?

I’ve been dashing about London in the rain today – appointment to appointment, jumping around puddles and waging a battle with my brolly in the wind. (Incidentally, I lost that battle but managed to snaffle a cab so feel I won the war.)  It seemed that after posting my moment of inspiration on Facebook this morning – “Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass. It’s about dancing in the rain” – the fickle London weather seemed determine to dampen my mid-week mambo.

On the homeward-bound bus at last, I opened up my weekly Australian Times e-newsletter (I’ve had a whole new love of commuting since the advent of my Desire) to be greeted with the question Are You Losing Your Australian-ness?.  After the rubbishing I got while visiting loved ones in Melbourne over Christmas (about my Ocker-Oh’s referring to my tendancy to intersperse flat ‘Australian-speak’ with a few English-sounding Oh’s and Ah’s), I thought I should read on.

Lee Crossley actually identifies twelve signs of disappearing Australian-ness but I am pleased to report that I have only identify five signs after seven years of living here:

THE phrases ‘Mind the Gap’ and ‘alight here’ no longer seem a tad odd.  In fact, I find them quite sweet and quaint.  I mean who ‘alights’ anything any more?

YOU no longer grumble on a crowded tubeSimply hours of fun to be had ‘minding the gap’ and ‘alighting’.  Plus no-one likes a whinger.

YOU expect miserable weather.  And am conversely delighted to a slightly hysterical degree at any 2 plus run of warm-weather-days. I must point out here that we are classifying mid-20(c)s as blissfully warm. I just do not have the wardrobe/patience to deal with anything hotter any more, unless lying prone next to the pool/beach in holiday repose.

YOU start to wonder where all the English people have gone in London.  Yep. Pretty much. I think they all live ‘elsewhere’.  Like Oxford.  Or Spain.

YOU accentuate the ‘ie’ in unbelievable.  Actually pronounced un-be-leeeeeeev-able and can be applied to any moment of wonder/dismay/disbelief.

Yes, 5 out of 12.  That’s 41.66%, an average of about 5.9% a year.  By my reckoning, that means this insidious creep will have completely subsumed my Ocker-ness in just under a decade.

Bugger!* Best bring out the big guns…

*Please don’t take offence.  Click on the link if you really think I am being rude.  I am not.  Truly.  I’m just a laconic, dinky-di colonial.

ps…if you want to keep a watchful eye over my continued slide progress, find out what the other seven are by going to Lee Crossley’s article here and keep checking in at Gidday from the UK for updates. 

Staycation…In The Sunshine

There are moments in my expat life that make me realise how much I love living here in the UK.  I am lucky enough to live in beautiful Kingston Upon Thames – a completely accidental find about a year after I arrived – just a 25 minute train ride from London and right by the river (hence the Upon-Thames part of the name). I am up on Kingston Hill – apparently quite a posh bit (so my landlord says in justifying the price of the ‘cosy’ flat I am in!) and only a short walk away from one of London’s most wonderful Royal Parks, Richmond Park.  

Hanging around at home on my little staycation this week has meant that I’ve been able to visit a few times and just enjoy it in the British half-term sunshine.  And on today’s walk, the camera on my phone got a bit of a workout. 

First there was a surprise appearance from the locals grazing by the walking path…

Then this view of the lone bench-sitter really gave a sense of the scale of the view.

This little corner near Ham Gate is at about the three quarter point on my circuit…

  …and Ham Gate pond is gorgeous.

And the final stretch back to Kingston Gate is just perfect for meandering and enjoying the solitude.

I came home smiling and relaxed (and a little damp with perspiration from the ‘heat’ and the final walk home up the hill).  You know, there’s lots of talk these days about ‘going somewhere’ – on holidays, at work, in life generally.  But I love days like this.  They remind me to just enjoy the journey…and that the destination more often than not, will take care of itself.

Hope this inspires you to find the magic in your great outdoors.

Rip and Review…The Music That Moves Me

One of the tasks that I have left undone of late has been the transformation of my CD library into a seriously space-saving digital collection.

By undone, I mean that I started it about a month ago along with a little ‘sorting by genre’ on the sideboard. Today I have resolved to complete this chore and make the place look ‘tidy’ so am currently in the midst of what I like to call a ‘rip and review’ – ripping all of these tunes may take time but is made infinitely more bearable by dipping into each and deciding whether or not they should go into the Faves Playlist.

The Faves Playlist is the one that I play in the background whilst doing other things.  Sorting the Spring/Summer wardrobe and packing away the Winter Woolies?  Faves Playlist on shuffle.  Tending to my small but thriving garden patch.  Windows open and Faves Playlist on shuffle.  Reading The Times newspaper from Saturday?  Faves Playlist on shuffle.  Writing my latest blog post?  Well, you get the gist.

I am sitting in my front window, the sun is shining after a brief ‘fat-raindrop-style’ shower earlier and I am currently listening to the students from the University of Granada (a CD I picked up whilst travelling in Spain in 2002), The Florestan Trio (a legacy of my brief but rather lovely subscription with the Australian Chamber Orchestra) and Acoustic Love (a CD I bought in 2006 in the honeymoon period of a relationship, you know when the world is shiny and people/things don’t p**s you off nearly as much as usual) all the while dipping back into a few existing faves like Lady Gaga, Chris Daughtry or some 70s Disco (Born To Be Alive, You Make Me Feel etc).

I’ve come across some real joys this afternoon.  Music that takes me back to events and places and moments I’d forgotten about, some tunes that I’ve listened to today as if for the first time.  But I was unprepared for the effect of one particular tune – from the first moment I heard it until right here and now in my front window, it still moves me to tears.  It’s not necessarily the words or any memory it evokes – it’s just the most beautiful song and it’s definitely worth a blog post to share it.

So here’s Eva Cassidy’s version of Somewhere Over The Rainbow to enjoy on your Sunday wherever you are.

Ask and Ye Shall Receive…

Today is Tuesday, the day that Dr Alan Zimmerman’s Tuesday Tip gets delivered to my Inbox.

And today’s tip was all in the asking:

“Asking is the beginning of receiving. Make sure you don’t go to the ocean with a teaspoon. At least take a bucket so the kids won’t laugh at you.”  Jim Rohn

As kids, we always took multiple buckets to build our respective castles in the sand so the teaspoon and bucket analogy really hit home.
So I am unearthing a bucket or two and am off to query the world at large – after all, I could do with a little receiving.
Just ask me!
ps… and since this whole post has been inspired in the spirit of ASKING, if you are enjoying my random musings, why not follow me or better yet, you can subscribe and get a little piece of me delivered right to your Inbox, just like Dr Zimmerman!

Who’s Gonna Drive You Home?

Last August, I relinquished a part of my life that I was inordinately attached to…my car.  Apart from working in London and using this city’s quite amazing PT system every day, financial pressures meant that it was time to let it go.  And so it was with a heavy heart that I handed over the keys and began the daily face-off with my vacant off-street parking space.

It was inconvenient at first but I soon discovered a joy in being able to experience the world rather than it whizz by un-noticed.  For the most part, being out in the weather was invigorating: crunching through the snow, smelling the rain, feeling the sun on my face and breathing in the elements.  After a few months, my knees ached less and my legs took on a much greater supporting role as my body changed shape and my fitness improved – recently I even found myself trotting spiritedly up the steps to the train platform.  And if you read this blog regularly you’ll know that commuting allows me to indulge in one of my favourite things to do every day – read.  You can’t do that in the car!

But the biggest delight has been keeping quietly to itself and waiting for Spring to arrive and now its here, I find myself inspired by blue skies, green fields and the awakening trees that makes England’s prettiest time of year…well, really pretty…

I was walking home from the train station when I was struck by this beauty

And this tree is about to burst into bloom

Then I was walking to Kingston today and noticed this gorgeous wisteria draping itself possessively over a number of houses in the street…

And so, still feeling inspired after a visit to the Oxfam bookshop to top up my commuting bookshelf, a bout of fruit and veg shopping at the Market Square and a leisurely toastie and soya cappuccino at a local cafe, I bought myself a little flowery inspiration…

…say hi to Gerry the Geranium!

Gerry is one of a pair (the other is Gerri with an ‘i’) and tomorrow we will find the perfect pot (and indeed the perfect spot) for the two of them to bring a little touch of Spring to Chez Hamer.