Friday, May 08, 2020

Post 357. END OF WW2 CELEBRATIONS?


OH, DO GIVE OVER!
It's the cats' birthday.
Yep. Both of them. Spike (above), who insisted on being seen in front of a bookcase because that's what they're all doing nowadays and she's read about as many books as most of them, and Angel – the boy – the other half of a name mix-up by daughter Roz when they were the size of a very small fist: Spike was the spikier one then and she still rules the roost now. Angel and the dog Buddy (a week younger than them) are putty in her tiny but lethal paws. I love 'em all: and they love me when I'm dispensing biscuit treats.
LOCKDOWN.
The schoolroom is open. 
Roz's living room has become grandson Ellis's schoolroom and, in keeping with the irrepressible sense of humour of his mother and teacher, has its own Ofsted report defiantly posted on the door. 
It ain't a fair reflection, but I love it.
TELEVISION.

A real book person.
You can pick out the real book people if you don't just take those camera views into other people's houses as an invitation to check on their wallpaper.
One real book person is the English academic Dame Mary Beard (above) who is an expert on Ancient Roman civilization, a Professor of Classics at Cambridge University and an extremely likeable television personality. 
Her extended, book- filled, den is everything Mo and I feel at home around. 
To add to the ambience, in a recent TV programme she interviewed Sir Simon Schama who, clearly at home, stood in front of the most gloriously chaotic bookcase in the whole learned world. He immediately became our favourite art historian.
LAST BUT NOT LEAST.
YouTube.
If you scramble around you can sometimes come across an unexpected gem. It was my good fortune the other evening to chance upon a great performance of Nessun Dorma sung by Michael Bolton (below}. I have his Vintage album of classic songs, which we cherish, but this is something else. If you like Michael and have not heard this track, look it up. It is followed by Vesti La Giubba, a wonderful duet with Luciano Pavarotti.
Go carefully.
Don't chance your arm. 


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