wendy house

Vegetarian ex-psychiatric nurse John Darnielle’s talent and presence was one of the exquisite highlights of living in the USA. 

The mountain goats sang This year

How can I visit Alexandria and not know that there is a pillar called Bombay Pompey’s pillar there? 

There is some serious tut-tut-tutting going on

I was drawn to Alexandria Library 

More wonderful than anticipated.  It was highly anticipated. I spent much of the time there sitting, listening to the building, watching the students.  The library website has a collection of photographs of the museum, its settings and collections.

The library has a ‘Nobel section’ that is furnished with a replica of the furniture and lighting designed specially for the Nobel Institute in Stockholm and contains the book collections of Nobel Prize Laureates in Literature from 1901-2006. I don’t think that fits strictly with the Dewey Decimal system. It is a socially meaningful way to highlight books ‘I’d like something from the Nobel room please…  ‘

There are several museums, a planetarium and a caligraphy centre within the Library.  This makes sense to me,  being more than a repository of books,  being a place to explore the world beyond the here and now.  Most libraries are more than a repository of books,  this one has so many enticing advantages through imagination, United Nations funding and gifts from many countries.

I had less than an hour at the Library

The library warranted staying in Alexandria for at least a year….  …seeking sponsorship for specialist research….   ….something more than a tourist walkthrough….

SIGH

Egyptian guide: We will go to Bomay’s pillau

Clearly I was misunderstanding what my Egyptian guide was telling me,  though visiting Bombay’s pillau in Alexandria did sound rather facinating.  The sign at the Sarapeiona temple we visited cleared-up the mystery.  The Sarapeona temple was built by Hadrian in the second century,  the same Hadrian that walled-out the Scotttish from England.  Unfortunately those darned Christians destroyed this non-christian the temple in the 4th century….   the pillar remained standing

Pompey’s pillar

No rice.  No connection to the Indian city.

Ceasars son-in-law, Pompey, had a history of disputes with Ceasar. Pompey travelled to Alexandria hoping to find refuge with the Egyptians. Upon arrival Pompey was beheaded by Ptolemy XIII as un unsolicited favour to Ceasar.  Ceasar didn’t approve.  Subsequent tourists looking for Pompey’s tomb mistakenly named the pillar in the Sarapeiona temple after him. The name remained with the pillar.

Egyptian guide (EG):  Saladin did one terrible thing which we cannot forget.  He masa creed 400 dinner guests

Wendy:  Killed 400 dinner guests?

EG:  yes

Wendy: I think you mean massacred not masa creed

EG:  the Americans say Masa creed

I decided not to contradict her assertion of how Americans pronounce ‘massacred’.  My role was only to ask questions, follow instructions and make impressed noises.  For example,  she was the director of where and when I could take photographs insisting that her prescribed locations were best.  She argued with me if I chose not to comply with her suggestions.  She told me to hurry up and move on when I decided to take photographs outside of her prescribed opportunities. 

Luckily I’ve escaped from her clutches to my friends home. My friend knows how to

• ‘not know’
• acknowledge her own linguistic and meaningful creativity
• allow her guests to make thier own judgements (about where to take photographs)

Why I love England #12: sub post offices

Nettlebed village shop and sub post office. 

Mixed messages of care.

Please note that your comments will have a prickly* reception

* more prickly than normal

 I’ve been lured away to stay with a friend’s family in Cairo. How lucky is that?

There will be sunshine on sand, pyramids, sweat, bizarreness in bazaars,  bobbing on boats, the grandest of floppy hats and the lovely Egyptian people.

Sand maybe getting into crevices, interferring with normal blog posting services, friction and chaffing.  Please be patient, we apologise for any inconvenience this may cause

(Sax warning)

Madness sang night boat to Cairo

6am Heathrow Terminal 1 is quiet.  A young couple myself eating breakfast in the ‘Ristorante pizzeria cafe bar’.  I choose the vegetarian breakfast omelette,  testing the viability of a possible new years resolution, it tastes good

My day has already involved an exploding movement-sensitive light as I left the Wendy house. It rained glass upon me.  Luckily I had my hood-up against the rain and didn’t get sprayed with glass.   In the Reading rail-air bus terminal I met an elderly Australian gent.  He looked at my fake Australian zebra skin hat with no comment while he bemoaned the rain outside and having to visit Britain (Wales) to see his terminally ill mother. 

No queues at checkin or security clearance.  SWEET

The customs officer said ‘Cairo is too far north for that hat’  We laughed

In a mock Bavarian village nestling in the Cascade mountains there is an store that specialises in selling Australian goods.  I purchased a fake Zebra skin cowboy hat that kept the sun from my neck in the Nevada desert and New York.  The Australian Zebra skin hat will be joining Eric and I in the Egyptian desert next week. 

Todays texts:

Friend in Cairo: How do you fancy camping overnight in the Desert next Thursday? Tents and drinks provided.

Wendy: YES PLEASE!

continue reading “desert holiday hat”

Greek: I have to watch Wendy

Wendy: ? (quizzical expression)

Greek: Yes, that’s it, your face is so expressive.  My PhD supervisor was very British, his face never moved,  it was very difficult to talk with him.  I can look ay Wendy and know whether she has something to say

Facial storytelling,  its a skill!  I can interrupt a conversation without saying a word if the participants, like this Greek, know how to listen.

 With the quick approach of my HOLIDAY to CAIRO I skipped out in search of some Holiday reading. Normally I pop into the tiny yet beautiful Reading Oxfam.  The friendly staff and customers chat, the book choice is excellent, always something to inspire and entice. 

One of my friends has recently moved to Cairo and made a specific request for a copy of the Lonely Planet guide to Egypt.  Alas, the local Oxfam cold not deliver.

A short walk to the Waterstones chain, a small Victorian style shop front.  Inside the store is like the TARDIS  it goes backwards and upwards,  from house to house with glass roofs between.  The store is architecturally beautifully designed and maintains unusual features such as the mezannine floor pictured below.

Once I stopped looking at the architecture and started looking at book shelves  I was lost with no idea of where the ‘Travel’ section might be.  Looking at the labeling on the shelves only tells you what is here,  not where something that is elsewhere might be.  Unperturbed I wandered over to the foot of the stairs (both of them) expecting to find a list of the sections on each floor.  Nothing.

The front door did not offer a guide to the store store layout with the sections identified.   The cash and information desk by the door was being stormed by an outsized orderly queue of people.  Glancing back into the huge store I felt a little overwhelmed and wandered in looking at shelf labels and the people nearby,  which are the staff who might help me?  Before full panic could set-in, eye contact with a lady….

Lady: Can I help you?

Wendy:  Do you have a map of the store layout?

Lady: What section would you like?

Wendy:  Is there a display showing where the sections are?

Lady:  No,  I’m working on that,  what section would you like?

Wendy: Travel

Lady: upstairs ahead through the arch,  on the right hand wall arranged in alphabetical order by country

Wendy: Thank you, love the display thing you’re working on

Prefab Sprout put their finger on a fundamental truth when they pointed out that some things hurt much more than cars and girls. Cars and girls have been kind to me so far, some things have been less forgiving, for example Dentists, Ski Lifts and Curb Stones

Prefab Sprout sang Cars and Girls

Tiger: you were sat under your tree
Wendy: my tree?
Tiger: In Kingfisher field
Wendy: the copper beech?
Tiger: yes.  before I came to call for you, first I would come by the field and look under the tree because you were often there,  you did a lot of your exam revision under the tree
Wendy: yes, I remember now. The tree was very helpful.  A calm, wise tree.  A girl’s got to develop a strong bond with a well established tree during her formative years. I had completely forgotten it.
Tiger:  Oh, Honey,  you are SO fickle

This blog post was bought to you courtesy of a cellular connection infront of Salisbury cathedral on a sunny September saturday courtesy of the letter T,  the colour green, and the shade of a conker tree.  Another day, another tree. Some things don’t change, other things change frequently. Perhaps it’s time to find a tree in Reading…

I have old lady

• shoes (ecco)
• no-sholderpads (apparently the 80’s are back)
•  bras -because banana bras are back in fashion
• wrinkles
• natural arctic blonde highlights
• smile at babies reflex
• living arrangements (with two cats)

I wonder what comes next…

The red arrows jet display team have selected a female pilot,  for the first time,  in 2010.  This is NEWS.  

Amelia Earhart was the first woman to fly across the Atlantic, in 1928,  she was
the second person to fly solo across the Atlantic, in 1932, and the first person to fly solo from Hawaii to California, in 1935.

Why do we think women were excluded from the Red arrows before 2010?  There is an elephant in the news item.

In the 80’s I used to cut the shoulderpads out from new clothes.  This fashion-subversive act enabled me to avoid looking like a cast extra from Dynasty, Falconcrest, Dallas, or an aspiring  USA football team member.   

Apparantly the shoulder-pad look is returning.  There are rumours that The John Lewis Partnership (JLP) haberdashery department has recently sold-out of shoulder pads.  

I didn’t purchase them.

'Gassed' (1919) by John Singer Sargent, Imperial War Museum

A BBC history trail provides some context and history to this painting and John Singer Sargent,  the American artist comissioned to paint Anglo American cooperation

The painting is huge, silent and painful.  The soliders blinded by mustard gas walk towards the tent for treatment.  They follow each other in a chain of hand on the shoulder, unable to see their steps 

Chemical warfare

Before seeing this painting I had only ever known John’s witty, bright and insightful society portraits.  Carnation, lily, lily rose has decorated my home since the early 1980’s. It was one of my first loves, the warm light of the lanterns, the of the grass, linen and flowers, the children silently together with thier lives ahead.  The bright optimism is good company on my bedroom wall

Pain is remembrance, you cannot forget pain (Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh)

The pain in ‘Gassed’ doesn’t need to hang on my wall to haunt me.  Like an old friend,  I will visit the painting again

Words of wisdom from an almost stranger*. in this case a girl on the commuter train to London Paddington:

“don’t wear Ecco shoes,  they’ll make you look like a really boring old person”

I would have followed this advice

except 

Ooops!  it’s toooooo late

I picked up these little green dudes in a sale,  as preparation for my upcoming HOLIDAY in CAIRO.  They have the phrase ‘pat pending’ on the sole.  Just like the wacky races character.  I love that!  The garish green is pretty darn cool too,  for a wrinkly, if this is what boring old people wear,  then so be it.

* Past tips provided by Alan the hairdresser.  Lucia the hairdresser, an anonymous manicurist, a Jackson’s sales assistant, a bus stop philanthropist, a mini salesman, Windows Network Diagnostics, Flat Eric and Reading Police.

The day after my outstandingly fabulous Birthday party:

Spotty dog:  last night you said you were going to give up drinking, become a vergetarian, start cooking and join a gym

Wendy:  gosh,  I was in a good mood,  you realise this is a progressive plan,  one thing at a time,  each is conditional upon achieving the step before,  do you want a glass of champers with the mister man cup cake?

After my first 6 months in the English school system, in 1969,  the school headmaster observed me to be:

confident

left-handed

quiet

producing interesting conversation

enjoying drawing

a slow reader

occassionally shedding tears

The wendywheel is a new firework. For fireworks night.  tonight.  Have fun, take care and a responsible adult.

When lit the whendywheel sits inactive for an indeterminate period,  do not make the mistake of thinking that it has gone-out,  this little cracker likes to deliver a suprise start. 

The suprise start is fast, loud, colourful and short.  Somewhat like the experience of falling-over mixed with an exploding balloon and halogen floodlights. 

Scrapping sound.  the suprise start is followed by a scrapping sound as the wheel travels along the ground.  Much like the sound of a bicycle being dragged along the road in the wheels of an articulated lorry.

Planet Wendy.  Like many people you thought it was all over when the articulated lorry squished the pushbike.  But no.  after a short silence the wendywheel whirlwinds its way to planet wendy like a snake climbing a tree at 3000x its natural speed with the friction creating a host of green snake-scale sparks that cascade over the crowd left behind wishing that they too had a ticket to spiral up to planet wendy.

wendy @  ho mail

and it tells my time

In 1984  I rented the ‘Tea Warehouse’ for the night.  For my time.  I found some friendly DJ’s with large and obliging record (Vinyl albums) collections.  They were prepared to indulge my taste and keen to get better aquainted with some of my gorgeous girl friends, as indeed they did.

I have memories of dancing along the street to the Warehouse at midnight for the start of the party. Dancing between the traffic. I remember kissing the policeman who lured me back to the pavement with the promise of a chance to wear his helmet.   

The Psychedelic furs sang ‘Heaven’

Norwegian man in Reading pub: there’s not many girls that know about assessing political risk

Wendy: I’m an ingenjör

Norwegian: what type of engineer?

Wendy: Social ingenjör

Norweigian: I find the English girls are very…..     errrrr….    how do you say ……’old fashioned’

Wendy:  Yeah, I find the English girls are very old fashioned too,  that’s why my Finnish dad wanted to marry an English girl.          But look at these boots!    I’m not an old fashioned girl. I’m an ingenjör with SENSIBLE footwear.  Functionally well engineered,  good experience, easthetically funky  footwear  I blame Dad.

Norweigian: I’m sorry?.