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We like to Celebrate Burns’ Night wi’ a Haggis and a wee dram o’ whusky. Teresa cooked the haggis, mashed ‘taters, etc. I bought the whisky.

Address To A Haggis

Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin’-race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye worthy o’ a grace
As lang’s my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o need,
While thro your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
‘Bethankit’ hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi perfect scunner,
Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither’d rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Thro bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He’ll make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like taps o thrissle.

Ye Pow’rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies:
But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,
Gie her a Haggis.

And for those who don’t speak Highlander, here’s a translation:

Good luck to you and your honest, plump face,
Great chieftain of the sausage race!
Above them all you take your place,
Stomach, tripe, or intestines:
Well are you worthy of a grace
As long as my arm.

The groaning trencher there you fill,
Your buttocks like a distant hill,
Your pin would help to mend a mill
In time of need,
While through your pores the dews distill
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour wipe,
And cut you up with ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like any ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm steaming, rich!

Then spoon for spoon, the stretch and strive:
Devil take the hindmost, on they drive,
Till all their well swollen bellies by-and-by
Are bent like drums;
Then old head of the table, most like to burst,
‘The grace!’ hums.

Is there that over his French ragout,
Or olio that would sicken a sow,
Or fricassee would make her vomit
With perfect disgust,
Looks down with sneering, scornful view
On such a dinner?

Poor devil! see him over his trash,
As feeble as a withered rush,
His thin legs a good whip-lash,
His fist a nut;
Through bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit.

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his ample fist a blade,
He’ll make it whistle;
And legs, and arms, and heads will cut off
Like the heads of thistles.

You powers, who make mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill of fare,
Old Scotland wants no watery stuff,
That splashes in small wooden dishes;
But if you wish her grateful prayer,
Give her [Scotland] a Haggis!

We had a great meal, and enjoyed listening to a Naxos CD of various Burns poems. The whisky was nice, but it knocked Teresa out for the count. She was asleep on the couch almost straightaway after the dinner!

This morning I drove over to Cottenham, and collected two chandelier style light fittings. More Freecycle freebies!

Ok, they’re not 100% to our tastes. But they’re light years (wah-wah-waah) better than what we inherited from the previous owner of our property.

And what’s more, there are two identical fittings, which suits our open-plan lounge/dining room areas poifeckly. Now we have a more unified look – and prettier, to boot – throughout.

Installing these fittings is both easy and a right pain in the arse. In principle it’s a cinch. But the working over your heard, arms upraised and neck crooked… and it being fiddly getting the wires connected/stowed, and the whole thing attached to the ceiling. Well, it didn’t take long. But I wouldn’t say it was fun.

Still, I’m happy with the end result. It also has the pleasing effect of giving more light. Our long through lounge can be quite gloomy. Especially now, in the deep, dark depths o’ winter.

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The second set of lights proved to be much harder. I was working on it, off and on, all afternoon and into the evening. For one thing the wiring is more complex, as it also feeds the kitchen annex lights. Sorting it out so it would stow in the ceiling rose was a real arse-ache.

The little metal bracket that one fixes onto the ceiling, and on to which the light fitting then attaches, was missing from this second set. I tried fashioning my own, and I tried using another from a different place in the lounge (where we have two redundant wall lamp fittings).

Sadly neither of these worked. There’s a joist visible through the gap where the wires come through, so I screwed through the plasterboard and directly in to that.

At this juncture, rather annoyingly – quite apart from only having three bulbs left for this set of lights, and only one of those working – the kitchen lights stopped working. I must’ve somehow broken a link somewhere in a circuit. Hmm!? What to do? Might have to get an electrician in to have a look/sort it out.

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Okay, popped out to Boyes early today, and bought a set of five LED ‘candle’ bulbs. Installed ’em, and presto! All working. But the kitchen lights are still non-functional. So… roll up the sleeves, take the g’damn light fitting down again, and investigate. There must be a break in the circuitry somewhere.

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And relax… I finally rewired and remounted the whole shebang, really taking care over the wiring, and now everything’s working as it should. Thank goodness! Didn’t even have to call in a sparky. Total cost of installing these two five-light chandeliers? £13 for the bulbs. Not bad!

Some years back I bought Teresa a set of early Hitchcock movies, and The Skin Game is, I think, my personal favourite of the x films in the set.

In many ways it’s very dated, from the stagey feel and some of the rather old school acting styles, to the class war plot of upstart industrialist vs. old country gentry. But it’s also very universal, in its themes of conflict, shame and revenge.

With numbers down on the drum teaching front, mainly due to our move making travelling to some former schools/pupils less viable – in particular the two hours plus odyssey to Bishops Stortford* – we thought we’d try letting our spare or ‘guest’ room.

Our initial attempt, listing it on Gumtree with a view to finding a lodger, got plenty of views, but no enquiries. So I thought why not try AirB&B? We ourselves have stayed in a few AirB&B properties, the best and most memorable being our Waterloo bicentennial trip to Belgium, in 2015. That place was absolutely terrific.

Anyway, letting our spare room with AirB&B has, so far, proved to be a good move, with guests booking in pretty much straight away. Our very first guest came during one of Tigger’s occasional bouts of flea infestation, which wasn’t exactly the best start! But we waged merciless war on the little bleeders, and eventually saw them off.

After this shaky start, things have settled down. One of the several good things is that having people coming to stay forces us to keep a better, tidier, cleaner house. Another is that the AirB&B short-stay type deal suits us – and perhaps me especially? – far better than a ‘proper’ old-school lodger, who’s around all the time.

We’ve had people recommend us to friends and colleagues, and we have one regular guest, who comes to visit his young son. His son’s name? Sebastian! The best thing is that everyone who’s stayed so far has been very easy going. We haven’t had any issues at all. Long may that continue!

* The difference this makes to my car fuel bills is massively noticeable. Plus all the time no longer wasted travelling. It was a good school, and the kids were great. But I’m really glad I finally quit! I’m not someone who finds quitting easy or natural.

 

Today I went a-roamin’, and collected a free soprano ukulele (from a lady with the fabulous name Lucinda Fudge!). It’s broken, hence her giving it away. I’ll probably try and fix it. But I also got it with a view to building my own ukulele. It’ll be useful as a reference.

I figure I should build a ukulele or two before attempting guitars. And I might start the latter with an electric project, and work my way up to acoustics! I love the video below, in which… well, you can see from the title what he’s up to.

 

I also bought some green Silverline polishing compound, a 120/240 grit sharpening stone, and some 600 and 1200 grit wet and dry sandpaper. Along with my recently constructed strop, all this stuff means I’m set up for proper serious sharpening.

So I’ll be getting all my planes and chisels in shape ASAP.

I,also need to get a lot more organised generally, and make some proper plans. I have nebulous half-arsed ideas about zillions of things, and want to start getting more stuff done. Amongst my priority projects are the following:

Get my Kity planer/thicknesser working; make some Izzy Swan style clamps; build a decent solid/heavy workbench; finish the two cold-frames; make my 1st ukulele; fix the garden fencing; replaced the old guttering. I also want to start making serious inroads on painting my 6mm and 10mm Napoleonic armies.

Sooo much to be done!

I still have issues with various tools, such as chisels and planes, not being sharp enough. I’ve been using Paul Seller’s sandpaper on glass technique for sharpening. And it has gotten blades much sharper.

But I’ve never yet been able to achieve the razor-sharp shave your arm hair degree of keenness on any blades that I want and need.

Having mentioned this when commenting on Youtube videos and forum posts about sharpening I’ve been told a leather strop is essential. So over yesterday and today day I made one.

I got two perfectly sized and shaped rectangular scraps of leather from a local craft shop, for £2, and made a wooden paddle out of some suitable looking medium density timber I found lying around the workshop.

I cut the wood to size on my quick’n’dirty tablesaw, shaping the handle on my bandsaw, and finished it off with some sanding and shaping, especially of the handle. I also drilled and shaped a hole for hanging it on my tool wall.

I glued the smooth-side-up piece on, rough side down, using wood glue. Left overnight that worked fine. However, the rough-side-up face, also glued with wood glue, didn’t work so well.

Firstly it had slipped out of position, and secondly, it was easy to peel off. So I removed it, cleaned up that face of the wooden paddle, and re-applied it, using a two-part epoxy glue. Stopping the smooth side of the leather from sliding out of place was tricky, but I eventually succeeded in weighting it down with sundry stuff and, a few hour later, it seems fine.

I had to trim off some excess glue, and even a few edges of leather that overhung. But shaping the handle, partly with a mini electric hand sander I recently got via Amazon Vine, and sandpaper and files, was – even if the results are rather rustic – lots of fun.

I really wanted to get some polishing compound today. But by the time I’d found someone local who actually stocks/sells it, it was too late. I’ll have to get it tomorrow, or early thursday. I also need to set up some new sandpaper and glass, and do a load more basic sharpening.

I might even bite the bullet and get some sharpening stones. I’d like the diamond plates. But good ones are very dear! Still, I’m pleased, another home-made tool for the workshop. Might stain the wood a bit darker… hmm?

Wow! This is a terrifically beautiful book.

This edition – I wonder if others will be published, e.g. when the show gets to the Palace of Fontainebleau? – bears the imprimature of the Canadian Montreal Museum of Fine Arts.

I had them set aside a copy for me at Topping Books, intending to go in and buy it yesterday. But worries about the cost – I’ve paid the full £40 RRP – resulted in my not going till today.

I got up earlier than I normally would, to be first at the bank, paying in some drum lesson fees (and thereby mitigating, somewhat, my feelings of guilt re the expense!), and was in Ely nice and early. A quick browse of the book at the counter, and I bought it.

Now I’m poring over it at Welney WWT, with a pot of tea and a bacon bap. Must keep any bacon grease of this sumptuous and expensive thing of beauty! I’m sharing a few pictures of spreads from the book for educational purposes, in the hope that folks visiting and reading this might be inspired to buy this book, and/or visit the exhibition.

Sadly for us Brits the show won’t be coming to England as far as I know. It travels via several venues across t’other side of the pond, in Canada and the U.S, before heading to France, later in 2019. I intend to visit the show when it reaches Fontainebleau!

It’s funny, in years past my interest in all things Napoleonic was chiefly confined to the military history aspect. Mostly it’s been centred around reading, including much perusal of art and maps, etc, and all of this as a kind of adjunct to the toy soldier collection.

Now, however, I’m interested in far more: the person of Napoleon himself, and his allies and enemy’s; the art, culture, and even the general tenor of the times, and how they’ve fed into subsequent history, and so on.

Indeed, I’ve had flights of fancy wherein I fantasised about returning to higher education and studying the era in greater depth. I even had one particular dream which involved a PhD on the visual culture of the 1er Empire, the end product of which was to have been something very like this book, drawing together such diverse elements as art, architecture, design, and all that jazz.

But here it is, already done, by a whole team of experts, and now in my eager and excited hands. An absolute treasure trove of beautifully photographed artefacts, ranging from designs for buildings, porcelain, tapestries, uniforms, and suchlike, to the things themselves. And ranging from small metal baubles to chairs, furniture, carriages, all the way up to palaces.

Subtitled The Imperial Household, the chapters are broken down thus:

I. The Imperial Household: Portraits

II. The Household & Its Palaces

III. Art & Majesty

IV. Serving The Imperial Family

V. Epilogue

Appendices.

Within these there are numerous sub-sections, sometimes on a particular theme, individual, or area of production. So for example we have entries on Denon, Sevres, Gobelins, the Empress and her Household, the Imperial Hunt, and so on.

The richness and splendour that is a central theme throughout really is quite overpowering. No doubt just as was intended. There’s also a very interesting juxtaposition on one page of four portraits, in which the contrast between Benjamin Franklin and Napoleon is really very striking.

Having recently been reading Inside The Third Reich, by Albert Speer, it’s interesting to compare the longevity of both these fairly recent irruptions of Imperial ambition. Napoleon certainly was, like Hitler, a despot. But it would seem he was a far more enlightened one, for all that. And in light of that, perhaps it’s not surprising that his Imperial legacy has fared far better, vast amounts of his bequest to history surviving in numerous areas, from bricks and mortar to the Code Napoleon.

Blah blah…

Blah…

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Antipodes art critic Robert Hughes once interviewed Albert Speer. You can read a short piece about that experience here.

A book of images of a Speer’s (?)…

As I mentioned in the post on my recent birthday, one of several books I recently acquired is Inside The Third Reich, which I’m currently reading.

Written during his incarceration in Spandau, it’s interesting to a military history buff like me how little Albert Speer has to say about the military campaigns in Poland, the Low Countries and France, compared with the great detail he goes into about his architectural projects.

I’m only part way through the book – about a third – at the time of posting this. And at this point, despite being kitted out with Nazi Party military uniforms, Speer has no official military position at all, remaining rather simply a freelance architect, whose primary client just so happens to be Adolf Hitler. Seen in this light the skewing in favour of his own area of expertise and activity isn’t really surprising at all.

Indeed, although he’s a favoured member of Hitler’s innermost coterie, it’s clear that in the lead up to and the early stages of WWII Speer is very definitely on the outside of Hitler’s military circles. This would change, when he became armaments minister. But at the point I’m at, Speer is at pains to stress that whilst he himself felt such monumental projects as Hitler’s plans for central Berlin should be put on hold, in order to focus exclusively on the war effort, The Führer himself insisted that this non-essential work be carried on regardless.

Anyway, this fascinating book has got me interested in Speer’s work as an architect. For one thing the scale on which Hitler wanted things done lead Speer into an arena of architecture few can ever entertain even imaginatively, let alone embark upon attempting to actually realise in fact. And yet very little of the planned work was constructed. And of what was built, almost nothing remains.

For such immoderately grandiose plans to have ended up having such fleeting and ephemeral existences is in itself a fascinating and tantalising thing. Many of the buildings Speer worked on remain realised only as drawings or, at best, models. The latter only surviving the war (as far as I know) in photographs.

A bit of googling turned up a few things, such as a recent book on Speer’s architectural work, a short article about a ‘lost’ interview with Speer by Robert Hughes, and a number of instances of people selling a photo-book on Speer’s Neue Reichskanzlei (New Reich Chancellory), pictures from which help illustrate this post.

One thing both Hitler and Speer clearly revelled in was mass: Speer frequently reels off lists of massive volumes of cubic feet or yards, evidently pleased and impressed with his Hitlerian endeavours as being more favourably endowed, size wise, than anything else ever built before. Adolf and Albert were clearly size-queens, so to speak.

Speer also has a decidedly rueful note in his hindsight view, suggesting more than once that the aphrodisiac of power caused his style to develop in ways he suggests we’re not ‘true’ to his real nature. Perhaps the image above hints at the lighter more modernist approach he might’ve pursued more, had he not become court architect to a megalomaniac powermonger?

Speer also says he developed a ‘theory of ruins’, and that he discussed this with Hitler, and the two of them were in agreement on it. The idea was, in essence, that buildings of the Third Reich should be built in such a way that, like the ruins of ancient Egypt, Greece and Rome, they would still be awe-inspiring a thousand or more years hence.

The irony was to be that destruction would be visited upon the architectural works of Speer and Hitler’s other architects far sooner. And so it was that Speer’s new Reich Chancellory looked as you see it above, not in 2943, but just two years after completion, in 1945.

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NOTES:

[1] Breker clearly captures Speer’s likeness very well, but his Mekon like bulbous bonce, probably intended to flatter Speer by reflecting/emphasising his intellectual aspect, does look a bit comic now.

[2] The horse – possibly Breker again? – has a very stiff, heavy, unnatural look, typical of Nazi approved sculpture. The two figures pictured above also have this rather leaden feel.

[3] Revisiting the ruins of one of his mammoth projects with Robert Hughes, years after the war and his release from prison, Speer confessed that it could now be seen that the outward show of pomp and gravitas was only skin deep, and that even the quality of much of the stone cladding, which covered the concrete bulk of the buildings, would’ve disappointed his beloved Führer.

One of Hitler’s primary aims in the new Reich Chancellory was to overawe visiting bigwigs, and make them feel both small and tired. The first could be accomplished by architecture on a huge scale, the second by making them walk miles of hard shiny corridors before they met him, cowed and exhausted. Speer himself notes, in retrospect, that all of this, and even his own design style, as it evolved, becomes – indeed is intended to be – inherently oppressive. Well, that’s fascism for you in a nutshell!

On a recent visit to Topping bookshop in Ely, I had a very brief browse of a splendid large hardback on 1st Empire  glory, which was, I think, the Yale University Press publication Napoleon.

This sumptuous book is partner to a touring exhibition, currently showing in the U.S. and heading for the Museum at the Chateau of Fontainebleau, later in 2019. Sadly this affaire is not destined to come to the shores of perfidious Albion.

I’m seriously tempted to get this book. And I’d love to visit France to see the show, later in the year. The video above is a very short thing by Yale, giving a brief glimpse at the book. The video below is Napoleonic enthusiast Nicholas Hoare enthusing about it and thumbing through it, at slightly greater length.