Hung Parliament

29 April 2010 10:48

I’ve been keeping off politics completely because it’s absolutely everywhere at the moment. I’m not a fan of Labour, new or otherwise and I’ve certainly never voted for them. In fact there isn’t much point in me using my vote as Gordon Brown is our constituency M.P. and this area is so steeped in Labour that they could put a monkey up for election under the Labour banner and it would still be elected.

But I’ve always used my vote, even in local council elections, thankful that some people in the past thought it was important enough to fight for.

So what with our great leader putting his foot well and truly in it today, and, by the way, she sounded like a bigot to me too – I’m beginning to worry that we won’t have a hung parliament. Let’s be sensible and call it what it really is – a coalition. It works well in other countries, like the Netherlands for instance. If that is what the people vote for, then that is what we should have.

The politicians should just be told to get on with it and make it work. They should be compelled to co-operate with each other, as adults should do.

My big worry now is that the Conservatives get power. Have people really forgotten what it was like the last time they ruled the roost. I certainly haven’t.

The jewel in our crown, the National Health Service, was so starved of money that people were dying on waiting lists. Obviously everything isn’t perfect now, it never can be because people are only human and yes you do get nasty, lazy nurses, they aren’t all angels.

I recently had to attend the physiotherapy department at a local hospital and I only had to wait a matter of hours after my doctor referred me to them. They phoned and gave me an appointment for the next day. When the Conservatives were last in government there was an 18 month waiting list at the same hospital for physiotherapy.

So I DREAD a Tory Boy take-over. Things will go to Hell in a handcart, in a flash.

The best thing that we can hope for is a coalition government, unless miracles really can happen and we have Nick Clegg as Prime Minister and a Liberal Democrat win.

Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert

28 April 2010 10:09

Madame Bovary cover

Our copy of this book has been sitting unread since my husband inherited it from his grandfather 30 or so years ago. So I thought it was about time that I got around to reading it, especially as it can be my second book for the Gilmore Girls Reading Challenge.

First published in 1857, Madame Bovary was quickly banned due to the subject matter, so when the charges were dropped it became an instant best seller, as is always the way with banned things.

The story begins with Charles Bovary entering the fifth class of school as a new boy, and very much the country yokel. With years of hard study he eventually becomes a doctor and his parents marry him off to a supposedly wealthy widow, Heloise, who fairly quickly dies.

Charles had already taken a fancy to Emma Rouault, the young, convent educated daughter of one of his patients and they are soon married.

When they are invited to stay at Vaubyessard which is where the Marquis d’Andervilliers lives Emma gets a taste for the high life and becomes very disatisfied with her own. As she sinks ino a six week long depression, Charles is advised to move away from the town where he has a thriving medical practice for the good of his wife’s health.

After moving to the village of Yonville and having a daughter (Bertha) who is put out to a wet nurse. Emma longs for some romance in her life and starts a flirtation with Leon a young law clerk who eventually leaves for the bright lights of Rouen.

Then a local, wealthy bachelor decides to seduce her and Emma is targeted by the local draper (very much like a modern credit card company) who extends masses of credit to her at the same time as encouraging her to get power of attorney from Charles. The debts pile up. Disaster beckons.

I can’t say that I really enjoyed this book. For one thing I didn’t like any of the characters, but I can see that is important because it was the first time anyone had ever written about a woman like Emma Bovary.

But that is probably just me. I’m not keen on modern novels where characters fall for ‘the grass is greener’ type of life. However, I’m glad that I read it as it is a classic.

Compost bin

27 April 2010 10:40

About this time last year I was given a compost bin. I’d been swithering about buying one for quite a while. The thing that put me off getting one was the fact that our garden is really quite small. So space is precious and compost bins are big, bulky and ugly.

Anyway, I’ve been following instructions to the letter and adding garden waste and vegetable kitchen waste and after a year I have very little to show for it.

I know that for about three months the whole bin would have been frozen solid, which wouldn’t have helped matters. It seems to be a fantastic way of preserving vegetable scraps with no sign of any compost to come.

Someone did tell me that the problem was that the whole thing was too dry and I needed an accelerator. Apparently I had to add urine to help the composting process along. So I appealed to the blokes of my family and with many complaints about me ‘taking the piss’ they did come up with the goods, but it was all to no avail.

So despite the fact that I didn’t have any problems with rats or ants, I’ve given up on the whole thing and I’ll be glad to get the space back for some nice plants.

One horrible thing about the composter was the millions of teeny wee compost flies that escaped from it every time I lifted the lid to add something to the bin.

I think a big part of the problem was the fact that even in the summer time it was too cold here for any heat to build up within the bin, which would have helped with the whole process.

Luckily the council in this area provides us with brown bins for garden waste, which they turn into compost. They are talking about providing bins for compostable kitchen waste which would be a definite plus as it it such a shame to have to put it all in the ordinary bin which is just taken off to a landfill site.

So my garden is going to lose its compost corner soon, I think I’m just going to have to brave it and start pulling the garbage out bit by bit. Yeeuch!

Falkland, Fife.

26 April 2010 10:24

The village of Falkland in Fife is dominated by the Royal Palace of Falkland.

My photo is a stitch of two because I couldn’t get the whole Palace into the one frame. Shame about the red car.

The village and Palace are well worth a visit if you are in the area. It’s stuffed full of ancient history but it also played a part in more recent times with The Chapel Royal being used by the Polish Airborne Forces during World War 2, when they were stationed nearby. They were allowed to use it as there wasn’t an ordinary Roman Catholic Church in the vicinity.

I really liked the royal (real) tennis court. It’s the oldest one in Britain and was built for James V in 1539. When we were there , a match was actually taking place. It is a sort of cross between tennis and squash.

An ancient street in Falkland

The village itself is very quaint and has a variety of interesting houses. Some of them are absolutely tiny but people are still living in them today. I think they were probably inhabited by weavers originally.

Doorway lintel, Falkland.

It was traditional to carve the initials of the original house owners as well as the date on the door lintel. This is known as a marriage lintel.

Gatehouse, Falkland estate.

Falkland Estate is on the outskirts of the village and has a very pretty gatehouse. As you can see there is a pond by the house. It’s usually full of ducks and moor hens but it was deserted when I took this photograph.

Stone bridge, Falkland estate

The lovely wee stone bridge just leads into a field. It crosses the burn (stream) which fills the pond. The burn continues its way from the pond and under the house. That is the one thing that puts me off the house. I would hate water running underneath my home, especially as it is a rushing torrent and noisy.

You can walk through the estate which has a very smart cricket pitch, which I think is probably a bit of a shock to English tourists, but cricket is actually quite popular in more rural areas. We’re just not very good at it.

Friday’s Child by Georgette Heyer

25 April 2010 10:54

Friday's Child cover

This is the first Regency romance of Heyer’s that I have read, the only book of hers that I have previously read is the detective book Footsteps in the Dark.

I’m not a great fan of romances, that’s probably something to do with being married for about as long as I can remember. But I was encouraged to start reading one after seeing the reviews on the Classics Circuit.

The main characters in Friday’s Child are Lord Sheringham (Sherry) and Hero Wantage (Kitten) who decide to get married. Sheringham has just proposed to the beautiful Isabella and been ‘knocked back’ and quickly marries the very young Hero, mainly so that he can get his hands on his money which is being held in trust until he is 25 or married.

The book is about the scrapes that Kitten gets herself into because she isn’t ‘up to snuff’ as they say. She is too innocent and naive. Although Sherry had expected to be able to continue with his bachelor life-style unimpeded by his wife, he soon finds that keeping her out of trouble is a full time job.

About a third of the way through this book I suddenly heard a very strange sound, I got quite a fright until I realised that it was just a big sigh from me. I was finding the book a tad tedious and I did wonder about giving in on it, but I thought of my granny who was a big Heyer fan, and ploughed on.

Half-way through, I really started to enjoy it. I think you have to be in a frivolous, frothy frame of mind for this book. It is a very light romp through the Regency period.

Some people have complained that she uses too much period slang. Well she certainly does throw it all in but I didn’t find it to be a problem as it is always obvious from the context what is meant by it.

I’m hoping to read one of her more history heavy books next.

Scots words – stramash

24 April 2010 10:49

A stramash is a disturbance, an uproar, commotion, a bit of a row or fight. It is more serious than a stooshie and generally more bad tempered.

The great football commentator Arthur Montford was well known for using the phrase “What a stramash,” – whenever there was a bit of a rumpus around the goal-mouth.

Andrew Carnegie, philanthropist

23 April 2010 10:35

The first library that I worked in was built with money donated by Andrew Carnegie who was born in this teeny wee cottage in Dunfermline, Fife which is about 12 miles from where I live. This was originally two cottages, I think he was born in the right hand one.

Andrew Carnegie's birhplace

He made shed-loads of money in America, mainly from steel originally. As he thought that education was so important he set about providing libraries so that poor people could get their hands on books and improve themselves if they had a mind to.

Naturally, the very first place that he wanted to splash his cash was his home town. (Look how well I’m doing folks.)

So Dunfermline has the very first Carnegie Library and I visited it for the first time during the Easter holidays. Actually, it’s a really lovely building, especially inside, much nicer than the one that I worked in.

I wasn’t supposed to be borrowing any books as I have so many in my TBR pile at the moment, but I ended up borrowing the Daphne du Maurier – Rule Britannia and requesting Susan Hill’s – Howards End is on the Landing. There’s a waiting list, I’m fourth on it. I’ll definitely have to set aside more reading time.

Rule Britannia by Daphne du Maurier

22 April 2010 11:02

This is du Maurier’s last novel and although it is set in her beloved Cornwall, it bears no resemblance to her other Cornish books. It is set in the 1970s and Britain’s relationship with the rest of Europe has broken down. The U.S.A. has taken over Britain, supposedly sharing power and the combination of the two countries is known as USUK.

It soon becomes apparent that the U.S.A. is in complete control and the local inhabitants are not treated well. The locals revolt.

The character of Mad (Daphne) is an 80 year old retired actress who was born in London but regards herself as Cornish. Although she has a middle-aged son and a grand-daughter, she felt the need to adopt five boys who range in age from 3 to 19.

When one of the American soldiers goes missing things take a nasty turn and the whole area of Poldrea is punished. Although the water and electricity has been cut by the invaders, the family manages to discover that all the Celtic parts of Britain are fighting back – Cornwall, Wales and Scotland. I enjoyed the book but wonder why she chose to put the boot in to the U.S.A.

During World War 2, Daphne du Maurier lived in Cornwall surrounded by American forces who were camped there waiting to take part in the D Day invasions of France. It sounds as if she didn’t appreciate their presence and nearly 30 years on she wrote about them being the bad guy invaders. Other women of Daphne’s generation that I know of adored the influx of Yanks to their neighbourhood, maybe a bit too much.

There are elements of Peter Pan in Rule Britannia. Mad’s adopted sons are the Lost Boys of J.M. Barrie fame. Barrie had been an honorary uncle to Daphne and her sisters and the Llewelyn-Davies boys (the Darlings in Peter Pan) were the du Mauriers’ cousins. Writing about her ill-fated cousins must have been like bringing them alive again for her.

In 1969 du Maurier accepted an invitation to join the political party Mebyon Kernow (Sons of Cornwall). They were (are) trying to keep Cornwall Cornish. Her last novel seems to be have been her way of protesting.

Why did she choose Americans for the baddies? – I have no idea. I think the problem has always been that rich people in the south of England have always wanted more than their fair share of everything. They are quite happy to buy what should be family homes in beautiful rural areas and inhabit them for only a few weeks a year, pricing locals out of the market and making it impossible for young people to get somewhere to live in the place that they have been brought up.

It takes place all over Britain I suppose but it just so happens that it is worse in the Celtic regions. St. Andrews, about 25 miles from where I live is more expensive than London for property and rent.

Dear Daphne wrote a book about her local area being swamped by foreigners, I just have a moan.

It is just as well that she isn’t living now because things are much worse in Cornwall than they were in her day and I’ve been told that one village only has 3 houses in it which are lived in by locals.

Having said that, if you get the chance you should visit Cornwall. I read Rebecca for the first time when I was 12 or 13, I think, and then went on to her other Cornish novels. I fell in love with the place but it took me about 30 years to get around to actually seeing it. It’s about 750 miles from Fife – a very long drive, but worth it.

Cornwall feels a lot like Scotland, the architecture is very similar with stone houses and slate roofs, and of course you can’t get any further west, so to my eyes, it’s almost perfect.

Latin in schools

21 April 2010 11:05

I went to an ordinary comprehensive school and in the first year the classes were all mixed ability. However, in second year the classes were streamed according to how well you did in the exams.

So, if you were in the top 20% or so, you had to take Latin in second year. At that time you needed your Latin Higher if you wanted to study medicine, pharmacy or law.

It soon became clear that Latin was quite handy for all sorts of reasons though. I’ve always been keen on gardening, even as a youngster and botanical names hold no terrors for you if you just learn a wee bit of Latin.

If you come across a new word, you can often work out what it means without looking it up as so many of our words are Latin based. And that goes for other foreign languages too.

For example: the word window is –
fenetre in French
Fenster in German
finestra in Italian and
fenestra in Latin

Of course English being awkward just has to buck the trend and do its own thing, so the word window comes from the old Norse word vindauga meaning wind-eye.

We do use fenestration meaning the arrangement of windows in a building, and defenestration which is the action of throwing out of a window – usually a person. I remember that a council planning officer was particularly narked at me because I knew what fenestration meant and he thought he was going off into technical speak to bamboozle me.

Anyway, I ended up doing Latin for three years and I can’t say that I’ve regretted it even although the days are long gone when I could translate The Rape of the Sabine Women from English into Latin. Actually, when I think about it, my teacher might say that I never could.

I discovered recently that Latin has been dropped from the curriculum altogether, in the East of Scotland anyway. In fact the last Latin teacher, who has recently retired, had been used to fill in for absent teachers of any subject. Which I think is a horrible way for anyone to have to end their career.

Apparently, lawyers do a crash course of legal Latin terms in their first year at university and that is deemed to be enough. So what has Latin been replaced with. I’ve got a horrible feeling that it is something like media studies or drama.

Miss or Mrs? by Wilkie Collins

20 April 2010 11:00

This was a very quick read at just 87 pages, I suppose it is a novella really. It was written in 1872 and I think if it had been written earlier when Collins was on the opium then he would probably have managed to work it up into a full sized novel.

Whenever I start reading a writers work, I like to work my way through as much of it as I can, so I’m glad that I could tick this one off. But I don’t think it would make anyone’s list of favourites.

It is really just a straightforward Victorian romance, with an unwanted dastardly suitor thrown in for good measure, and a dollop of suspense of course.