You know things are serious when The Queen broadcasts to the nation. At eight o'clock she appears on the BBC uttering suitably calming words. The phrase 'We will meet again ' a hark back to an earlier crisis that she ( quite possibly alone among world leaders ) remembers. Seems there was a solitary cameraman in a bio-suit in the room with her. All the other arrangements were done by phone. Angus calculates that six generations of the family have heard her talk. A fact which provides reassurance about continuity in a way mere words never could.
This morning we head off in the car to the local bakers. On the way back we stop in the valley. Sophie is unloaded and makes her way to the little waterfall. Nothing like stream water to assuage a girls thirst. Minnows are fished for but Sophie hasn't got the hang of refraction. Her paw movements also leave something to be desired in the mind / motor coordination department . She is however a great pouncer. Great as in pouncing in the water amid shrieks of delight. Not so great as in catching minnows.
The cows have left something delightful in the grass verges. Sophie has that ' What better start to the week could there be ? ' look on her face. Angus shudders.
Back at The Rickety Old Farmhouse it's time for breakfast followed by a leisurely nap on the stoop. Later today Sophie and 'The Font' will start work on a tandoor lamb marinade. Lockdown is making dinner menus ever more exotic. Sophie will happily sit watching, eyes riveted and unblinking, for an hour or more as the food is prepared.
Angus gets closer to painting the terrace walls. He goes into the garage and finds the paint brushes. Finding the paint can wait for another day - maybe tomorrow. No point in rushing things.
We were supposed to be on a flight to DC today. In a months time 'The Font' was booked on a flight to Detroit for a Godsons graduation. Family and friends will need to do without us. We have seats on a flight to DC in September but this remains, at best, provisional. Today is a day for ordering some wine from Italy and an Easter Egg from Paris. Unlike the paint for the terrace neither of these can wait.
What a great cover on The New Yorker.
Some politicians still don't get it : https://twitter.com/HNeumannMEP/status/1246772170547740674
The light on the stone for the first minute of this is awesome :
https://youtu.be/dODi5U0D7-Y?t=6
10 comments:
Nice to share Sophie's peaceful Monday morning. She looks very happy, although perhaps that's at least partly in anticipation of the lamb? The New Yorker cover makes me sad. I commuted through Grand Central every day for a years and it's one of my favorite places - an empty Grand Central just doesn't compute. An empty Tokyo station, on the other hand, would make me very happy - state of emergency is finally coming tomorrow.
The thought of roast lamb certainly doesn't do anything to dull Sophie's enthusiastic start to the day.
Ah, the wisteria! The lockdown dinner sound most enticing. Gail (who should have been in Prague just now) is beginning to suspect that Angus's enthusiasm for painting and decorating matches her own...
Sophie seems to be enjoying isolation....
Hari OM
Is it possible for a leisurely pace to become even more laid back? Seems to be. Except where Easter eggs and wine are concerned! YAM xx
The stained glass reminds me of Sainte-Chapelle. It's funny because the video is speeded up (you can glimpse tiny people down below walking frenetically) to capture the movement of the sun through the windows, which is almost the opposite conceit of the New Yorker cover, which alludes to the famous long-exposure photo of the Grand Central Main Concourse during rush hour, in which nobody stayed long enough to be captured on film. I was looking for the credit for that photo and can't find it. Did the New Yorker explain it? All I found was another foiled Internet sleuth, who described the photo exactly as I remembered--just like the New Yorker cover but as a photo.
Re the New Yorker, I recently heard a coronavirus joke that was something about how now we all have time to read all of our New Yorkers cover to cover. I used to subscribe, but the weight of the reading burden, however enjoyable, was just too much. I do listen to the New Yorker Radio Hour, in which they recently spoke with Daniel Kahneman about how hard it is to get one's head around exponential growth, even a Nobel-winning economist. He said he expects to live the rest of his life in confinement (he's 86), because the lockdowns can't end until (1) there's a cure, (2) there's a vaccine, which will take a year or two or (3) we all get the virus (around minute 9:50).
Your dinner sounds delicious!
The point of a monarchy is to remind us we collectively live in the seasons of time, and many years in the future people will still talk about what the Queen broadcast on Palm Sunday in this hour of crisis.
I listened to and read part of the Queen's speech. It was well said. Precise and to the point. She is truly greatness, personified.
Sorry that your trip to my time zone has been cancelled. My trip to Savannah at the end of the month, was also cancelled. Maybe the fall will be better for travel. However, my trip to Tennessee is still planned for the end of July.
**Thank you for the true, kind and comforting words you left on my blog.
What a lucky girl Sophie is - a delightful "gift" from the cows and overseeing the preparation of the lamb marinade. Perhaps she will be allowed to sample the finished dish, after all her hard work? Definitely shaping up to be a best day ever!
I, too, have decided to do some external painting but so far have lacked the enthusiasm. However on looking at the amount of paint left, and the area it needs to cover, I'll put the whole idea on hold. I can't go out to buy more as all the bricolages are closed until at least the end of the month.
Too bad all the world leaders weren't following the Queen's calm leadership. I also wondered if surviving the Blitz has an impact on her coping now.
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