Author: Seb Palmer

Despite the plethora of churches I’m currently viewing on my travels, there are many I don’t stop for. At all. Some, like St Leonard’s, Apethorpe, I might snap on my way past, but I don’t stop for. There are sooo many!

As I left Apethorpe, I spotted this rather odd castellated water tower, behind some trees in a field. Weird! I like when folk do that bit more than plain functionality requires. It adds character.

There are sooo many pretty villages around these parts. The aulde parts of Kings Cliffe, for example, are stunning. All Saints was closed/locked, alas. But it’s handsome enough from without. But I must go back and have a look around inside as well, some day.

The Church of St. Mary, Doddington, was at least open. The door has these amazing and hoooge metal hinges that I totally failed to capture. Must go back to snap ‘em properly. The inside has interesting rounded (Saxon, as opposed to Norman?) arches:

Rather oddly only two of the six arches feature the pretty ornamental patterning, seen at right. The graveyard is small but very picturesque.

Easton On The Hill is another shockingly beautiful place. Sadly the pics don’t do justice to the vertiginous and higgledy-piggledy nature of the place.

Stamford is a very picturesque town. But my deliveries today were in the less attractive parts. That said, my route did take me past YouTube sensation Colin Furze’s house, where he’s digging his famous ‘secret tunnel’ complex. But I’ll post separately on that!

The only non-Furze pic from Stamford today is this rather amusing bit of street name signage:

Yet another gobsmackingly gorgeous place is Ketton. The place gives its name to one of the many local stones, which make the local architecture sooo damnably attractive. I delivered packages to properties either side of Sy Mary’s, affording ample opportunity to snap this fantastic church.

No 21’s front garden is part of St Mary’s graveyard! And no. 27, an astonishing property in itself, has a beautiful garden giving beautiful views of the church. Some people are very fortunate!

The road out of Ketton towards Nassington was flooded (above). Whilst contemplating risking driving through, the farmer, whose land it is that’s either side of the road, turned up. I asked how deep his field were flooded. Two to three feet in places, he reckoned. And the road? Not so deep. Maybe eighteen inches? But not worth the risk! He kindly explained an alternate route.

I had been thinking of eating a McDonalds lunch. But then, whilst driving through Ketton, I remembered Elsie’s Vintage Tea Room. No competition! I’d wanted one of their baked potatoes. But they were all out. So I had Coronation chicken sandwiches, with a side salad, and a Camp coffee. Nice!

I was lucky to find a free table. All the others were reserved. it’s such a wonderful place. Even their retro-Christmas music was fun. If I’m in a supermarket, by contrast the enforced jollity if seasonal sounds can be quite falling.

And finally, home, to dear young Chester… who alas clearly mighty pleased to see me. As I was to see him.

Today, after my four hour morning am delivery shift, and lunch at Elsie’s, when I got home – after a love-fest with Chester – I finished repainting the walls of the master bedroom.

There are still some things that need doing: bits of skirting board, repairs to a chest o’drawers, etc. But having the walls done, a uniform colour, makes a big difference. To me at any rate.

The above pic was the start of play today. From the area atop the shelves by the draught-excluder curtain, clockwise to the right of the mirror, you can see the old Egyptian Cotton colour.

The new colour (Cupcake?) is warmer and brighter. A definite improvement, methinks.

The above is the after picture. Prior to replacing the mirror over the headboard. The panorama function can distort things (e.g. the lampshade!). Plus the numerous lamps make the colour less uniform looking. Oh, and there’s the dreaded mid-job mess.

There’s still a fair deal to be done: furniture to be mended, skirting boards to be painted, leads/wires to be tidied away (routed/hidden, etc.). And muchos declutterama!

Cover

My previous post on this book was just an initial reaction to learning of the existence of both books and author, etc. This is going to be a review. And possibly, or probably, a mycelial one, at that!

I have to confess that the curmudgeonly part of me (quite large!) was a bit inclined to baulk at the lionisation of both book and author. My jealousy and sour-grapes regarding what I deem the silver spoon of being born into privilege threatening to jaundice the encounter.

However, for all that many of the anticipated hackles have risen, I have to concede that I love this book. And the author’s approach seems, to me – on the whole (I’ll come back to this in a bit) – very judiciously balanced.

What on earth am I on about? Well, as a scion of a clan the paternal figure of which published a book called The Science Delusion… yeah!?

I’m starting this review whilst reading chapter five, Before Roots, in which he opens with a lyric from Tom Waits (and Kathleen Brennan), and then later quotes Tolkien. Waits and Tolkien are two of the brightest stars in my personal firmament, and not the sort of folk I’d expect to find quoted in what is essentially a popular science work.

I like this looser more wide-ranging approach being brought back into science. An arena of human activity some seem to have wanted to remain aridly Apollonian.

I took the above photograph while out delivering today. It fails utterly to capture the amazing contrast between heavy leaden grey skies and a band of pinkish-orange luminescence that was so arresting I had to stop traffic to take the shot.

I don’t go in for selfies, as a rule. But I wanted to see myself as I was seeing myself, so to speak. Also, this room is very like, in terms of wall colour, our blue room, back home. You think you’re being different, only to find you’re part of the zeitgeist!

Strolling towards supper, I took a few urban nightlife pics. Good God, I’m so out of the loop these days. But I should care.

Shouldn’t have indulged in eating out. The food was great. But my sensitive nature was offended by the grossness of humanity. Teresa liked the nosh. Thank goodness. But she don’t like ‘avin ‘er pitcher took…

I had just enough time between my two delivery shifts today to pop home briefly. I needed to fit several reasons. For one, I’d forgotten to take my fortnightly injection last Sunday.

I can also do a few sundry chores: wrap a few more presssies, poss paint a bit more of the master bedroom wall; maybe hang the large mirror (I attached the mounting doodad just before our little break), and change into a new/fresh set of duds.

I’ve fed Chester a bit: both regular dry food and some Dreamies (if that’s what they’re called?). A bit of bonding via his tummy is fine!

I also mounted or ‘hung’ the large wooden framed mirror, over the (fairly) recently acquired chesty o’drawers, mit der blau front. It seems fairly well places/square. Mind, I’m not sure anything’s plumb square in this house!

That’s why there were no doors at all in the upstairs areas; all the walls and doorframes are out o’ whack. I’ve subsequently installed doors in all the empty frames. But the only serve to illustrate how wonky everything is!

I’ve been sworn to secrecy. So I cannae tell any tales.

I had to really zoom in to get the above photo. In the darkened room. When we arrived the heater was on full. We switched it off. That was three hours ago. And it’s still like a sauna!

We found a fan. It’s running full blast. And will be all night. The window is open (it won’t open very wide, alas). And, as already mentioned, the heating is orff. I just hope I can sleep ok.

They say a change is as good as a rest. It is nice to be somewhere different.

Birds are amazing. And so often incredibly cute. Look a this ballistic little ball of feathers. And such a funny name. Tits – of all varieties – always make me smile, or even laugh.

At the height of my dalliance with ‘70s gay porn, some while ago now, I discovered Peter Berlin. He was a Tom of Finland type, only for real, in the flesh. And I was pretty amazed at that.

Read a bit more about him here…

In the above pic, the image on the left makes him look rather like a hyper-homo-eroticised Owen Wilson.

We started watching this ol’ Technicolour/Panavision epic – it’s three hours long! – tonight. We’ll split it over today and tomorrow.

There’s not a chance in Hell of watching it all one sitting these days. For starters Teresa would be asleep way before the creditors rolled. But I’m getting to bed earlier and earlier these day as well.

Trevor Howard is great as the martinet Bligh, whilst Brando is intriguing as Fletcher Christian, played here as a rather dandified fop. I’ll get to historical accuracy later. But in terms of setting up a fun movie dynamic, it bodes fine.

I mention this ‘cause the movie bombed, and was almost universally panned, at the time. It stalled Brando’s career for a decade (until The Godfather)! Watching it now it’s hard to see why.

One of the best things about it so far – and I’m typing this only half an hour into the movie, is the Bounty herself. A full size replica was built, at a cost of $750,000. And she’s a real beauty. No mistake!

There’s an interesting blog article (here) on the model Bounty, as used in the film. The scenes of the stormy failure to pass Cape Horn are superbly done. By now we’re about an hour into the film.

After just half of the movie, we’ve paused for the night. The crew are enjoying Tahiti, whilst Bligh stays on board, fuming. The McGuffin here, and a narrative spine of sorts, concerns a boffin from Kew, seeking to bring breadfruit back from The Tropics, as a new ‘superfood’.

It’s a bit uneven. But I think it is a classic of sorts. Not as an out and our masterpiece, far from it. But it is epic, in style and feel. And the effort that went into the production makes it a spectacle well worth viewing.

Also of interest is the fate of the full sized working replica Bounty (read more about that here, which was ultimately lost at sea, with loss of lives, including the skipper. Who, in an echo of the movie, as Bligh is o j I’m portrayed here, makes a foolish command decision, to sail into foul weather.

It’s the following day, now, Sunday. And we’ve watched the second half of the film. Or rather I have. Teresa fell asleep, as ever. But, returning to the film itself, as a rip-snorting Hollywood epic, I’m actually mightily impressed.

I suspect it’s a long long way from historically accurate. But I don’t care. If I want to know what really happened, I’m sure there are folk who’ve done the work finding out (as best as can be done), and I can explore that at some later point.

What this is, is melodrama, and grand spectacle. Or, in a word, entertainment. And as such, it’s really rather good. Apparently Brando’s posh British accent came in for some flak. So did Keanu’s, in Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula. But both are fine. Indeed, perfectly good.

And not only are their accents no real cause for criticism. Much more importantly, both films are excellent (albeit very different).

Some might disagree with me on this. But I’m just observing that American actors affecting posh British accents would have to do spectacularly appalling jobs to butcher either film – they have so much else going for them – and as it happens, neither of them do anyway.

I did worry for a moment that the post-mutiny part of the film – which it takes so long to build up to – might be a let down. And there is a slight deflation, or loss of dramatic pressure, so to speak, but the dramatic ending more than makes up for this.

All told, I’m rather baffled as to why this bombed at the time of release. It’s not only better than the average Hollywood fare of the era, it’s good enough to have stood the test of time, and remained highly watchable right down to our present times.

Oh, and to finish, another interesting footnote is that Brando and the actress who plays his Tahitian live interest did actually marry in real life, and have a family. And there’s lots more of interest, in that vein, if that intrigues you. Including murder! But I’ll leave it at that for now; bed beckons…

This chandelier had two of it lower chains of ‘cut glass’ (resin or plastic!) broken, ages ago. Since which time it’s looked a bit sad, frankly.

I should’ve taken a before pic’, but as happens so often, I did’nae. So it’s only the post-repair pics on here.

In the end it only took a few minutes. Using quite fine wire, one of the broken chains was put back almost as was. The other one lost four piece of ‘glass’. So that required a different fix.

I’m pretty sure ill have kept the missing links. But exactly where they may be, or if I’ll ever find them again, well… that’s another matter entirely!

So instead I did what you can just make out in the above photograph. It’s a temporary bodge. But it’s doing the job for now. At least the chandelier doesn’t look as tragic as it did with two strands hanging forlornly off it.

Another little home improvement job ticked off. Small but satisfying.