It’s Hard for an Egg to Turn into a Bird

Poor Mrs. Pheasant. There she was, trying to renew the blood line and produce a clutch of eggs to grow into the next generation of pheasants. But a marauder found her eggs, and instead, made a breakfast of them, so that he (or she?) had the nourishment needed to set about producing the next generation of their own species.

At least this marauder was keeping body and soul together. We live in shooting country, and the countryside is crammed with pheasants, imported here in vast numbers simply so they can be the target of barely competent marksmen enjoying their yearly shooting break. Some dead birds find their way to the table via local butchers. Many corpses are quite simply … discarded.

This blackbird may have been luckier. Once hatched, the baby blackbird’s shell simply fell to the ground beneath the nest.

By the way, the featured photo is of male pheasants. Their female counterparts are somewhat dowdier.

For Becky’s #Squares Renew.

Six Degrees of Separation: from The Anniversary to Romantic Comedy

On the first Saturday of every month, a book is chosen as a starting point and linked to six other books to form a chain. Readers and bloggers are invited to join in by creating their own ‘chain’ leading from the selected book.

Kate W: Books are my Favourite and Best

Yet again I  haven’t read the starter book: Stephanie Bishop’s The Anniversary. I gather though that it’s a forensic examination of marriages and relationships.

That gives us plenty to choose from then.  I’ll start with Jenny Erpenbeck’s Kairos, a compelling story of a doomed love affair, set against the background of the crumbling of the GDR in the 1980s. A young student meets by chance a very much older married man and they fall into a tumultuous, torrid affair, fuelled by their love of music and art. He’s had several affairs during his marriage, but when she strays for a single night, he submits her to cruel and demeaning punishments, picking over her confession for weeks and long months. This is not a tidily wrapped up book, though we learn from the prologue and epilogue that the affair does in fact end. As did the GDR. Though that wasn’t tidy either. One quibble – in a society where spying on one’s neighbours was expected, how did this couple keep secret their affair, conducted in full public view?

My next choice might have had a married man having an affair as its subject.  Not quite.  How to Make a Bomb by Rupert Thomson was a surprise to read. Instead of full stops, there are line breaks. Sentences are often short – staccato even, giving the book something of a feel of a prose poem: this choppy presentation suits the book and its main unable-to-stick -with-an-idea protagonist well. Philip Notman is an acclaimed historian who’s been to a conference in Bergen. He’s happily married to Anya. From nowhere, apparently, he start to question life itself – it’s ‘artificial’, ‘unbearable’. His solution is to go away for a while – to Cádiz, where a woman – Inés – whom he met at the conference lives, and for whom he has formed an attraction. No adultery takes place, and soon he is off to Crete, because some chance acquaintances have lent him their holiday home there. He dabbles with integrating himself into local male society, with religion, before moving back to London, but not to his wife. He still loves her, still needs time. His rather self-indulgent and self-aggrandising quest to solve the ills of society via his Notmanifesto (see what he did there?) is rather a mish-mash of received ideas. His grandiose ideas amount to very little and we leave him on the last page no further forward than he was when he embarked on his unlikely quest. Unconventionally written, with its absence of punctuation, this is an immensely readable book whose subject is a Privileged White Male living out a cliche.

Next, Holly WilliamsThe Start of Something concerns a group of people also exploring relationships.  It’s a cleverly constructed novel – or is it a set of short stories? in which ten characters in turn have their inner stories revealed. Each character has slept with the one before. Several are exploring or questioning their sexuality: some are lonely, because or in spite of their relationship; some are heartbroken: all are seeking – something. One chapter is coming to an end for each of them, another is beginning. And at the end, there is hope for the two people with whom the book closes.

More exploration of sexuality in The Sleep Watcher by Rowan Hisayo Buchanan.  A young woman, Kit, uses this book to address her lover to explain how her teenage self has made her who she is. She lived with her parents and younger brother in an unnamed seaside town in southern England and became prone to out-of-body nighttime wanderings as she slept. This device should have had me slamming the book shut, never to open it again, but it worked. Able to travel round the town at will, she witnesses her parents in private moments and realises their relationship is increasingly fragile, her father not the happy-go-lucky man she thought she knew. She’s also exploring her own sexuality with her closest school friend, Andrew. The satisfaction of reading this book lies in the evocation in just a few phrases of her home town, her teenage companions, her family, and the things they did. Her conflicting feelings about her parents – especially her father – whom she thought she knew are well portrayed. Kit is a convincing, if enigmatic character. An intriguing read.

Here’s another book written in the voice of the main protagonist reviewing her past. Absolutely and Forever by Rose Tremain, of whose writing I’m usually a fan. But while this book was, as expected, a page-turner, I didn’t warm to it much. It’s written in the voice of Marianne, whom we meet as a 15 year old boarding-school girl, with self-obsessed parents whom I found to be caricatures. She’s helplessly in love with 18 year old Simon. She knows they’ll soon marry and she willingly loses her virginity to him. Life gets in the way, and he’s despatched to Paris when he disappoints himself and his parents. She never forgets him, despite a decent marriage, which is detailed in all is downs and ups. The denouement, when it comes, isn’t a surprise, to me at least. I found most of the characters to be ciphers, and the characters slightly unbelievable. An easily-read and well-written, but slightly unsatisfactory read.

There’s quite a bit of serious stuff here.  Let’s finish in a lighter vein.  Curtis Sittenfeld’s Romantic Comedy.  An engaging and highly readable … romantic comedy. Sally is in a team of writers and other creatives who collectively and separately write a popular Saturday night TV sketch show. It feels as if Sittenfeld has accurately brought to life this high-octane, stressful environment where very close friendships sustain the team, and the lively portrayal of a-week-in-the-life-of was eye opening as well as entertaining. But this story is that which develops between Sally, and one of the guest hosts, wildly popular singer Noah. We follow their tentative first mis-steps towards romance, through an e-mail relationship that develops in lockdown through further mis-steps to … well read it and find out. The story is sustained by cameos of the relationship Sally has with her two closest women friends, and with her now-widowed step father. A rewarding romantic novel with the added edge of giving an insight into aspects of the world of show business.

That’s it for this month. My last book doesn’t link back to my first, but all of them this month deal with the search for, or life with A Significant Other. Next month’s starter is Butter by Asako Yuzuki. Apparently it’s a crime novel with a difference.

The first, second and fourth images in the text of this post are my own. The third is by Valentin Antonucci of Pexels. The sixth is by Penin Thibault of Unsplash, and the seventh is by This is Engineering of Unsplash.

New Life

Spotted yesterday at Studley Royal: new life – burgeoning; the devoted parents moving forward – often – to protect their young by hissing threateningly at passers by who paused to admire the new babies; renewing and reconstructing the bloodline.

Yes, Becky’s Squares photo challenge has returned – hooray! The only rule is that the image chosen has to be square. This month’s theme is Renew. Or Burgeoning. Or Moving Forward. Or Reconstructing. You get the idea. So here is my first offering.

The photos is also my Last on the Card for Brian. It has of course been doctored to form a perfect square. This is against the rules. But Brian knows I invariably break the rules.

A Happy Accident

I found some delicate pretty-in-pink forced rhubarb at the market the other day. Just the thing for a rhubarb cake.

I got my ingredients together: equal quantities of flour, ground almonds, butter and golden caster sugar (I cut down on this last, obviously). Then odds and ends like baking powder, additions of my own like ginger and cinnamon, and crushed walnuts as I had no flaked almonds. And of course the chopped rhubarb to go on top.

Then I mixed my ingredients together and popped them in the baking tin. It seemed a little smaller than I’d imagined, but never mind. Into the oven it went, looking good.

Just before it was due to come out, I noticed my scale pan …

Yes. There was the flour, with baking powder, ginger and cinnamon. Clearly, these ingredients had not been included in my cake.

Hmm. Nothing for it but to bash on and hope for the best.

Reader, it was delicious. Next time I use this recipe – and it’s a keeper – it still won’t have flour or baking powder. Though I might allow the spices in.

Dogger, Fisher, German Bight …

Paula, who blogs at Lost in Translation, offers each month a different set of five words to illustrate. Look at this month’s: sabulous; brimming; guarding; berthing and bight. Interesting, aren’t they? I bet you had to haul the dictionary out for one, maybe two of them.

It was bight that caught my eye. It actually means …

But it doesn’t mean that to me. Like so many Brits, I’m a devotee of the Shipping Forecast, that four-times-daily forecast to anyone out at sea within reach of the British coast. The coastal waters are divided into zones, each evocatively named.

I’m not out at sea, dicing with the elements: I’m a rotten sailor anyway. But I can be soothed by the predictable poetic rhythms of the regular broadcast. Do watch this explanatory video. It’ll take up under two minutes of your life.

It’s so much a part of my life, I even have a cushion showing many of the much-loved names.

… and there you’ll have spotted it. German Bight. So that’s what Bight means to me. Ships at sea, their crew always ready, four times a day, to tune into that most necessary programme.

It seems only right then, that my four remaining photos should have been taken on the sea, or at any rate by the sea. Here they are …

This beach at Alnmouth, Northumberland is pretty sabulous, I’d say.
The Mediterranean is brimming at the moment: so much so that it’s slopped over the sands and is stealing the beaches of the Maresme coast in Catalonia. Diggers and excavators are fighting back, building groynes to inhibit the relentless march of the sea.
Just another day at work for this lifeguard, guarding the safety of Sunday swimmers at Premià de Mar.
Berthing at the fishing port of Arenys de Mar, Catalonia, before another night of fishing at sea.

In Which I Appear in ‘Reading Matters’

Mine is not a blog about books: my sole regular contribution is to the monthly discussion about books : ‘Six Degrees of Separation‘. But I’m an avid follower of some book reviewers, and one of my favourites is Kim of Reading Matters. She writes ‘Book reviews of mainly modern & contemporary fiction‘, she’s one of a select band whom I rely on to direct me towards much of what is best in recent writing.

This week, she chose me – me – to feature in her Triple Choice Tuesday. You can read all about it here.

Thanks Kim. I had to think hard about my choices for this post. I’ve enjoyed reading about some of your other featured bloggers, and look forward to more in the weeks to come.

My featured photo is by Ciao, from Pexels.

Abstracting Abstracts

Finding abstract images from among my collection of photos has been quite the challenge. And yet this is what Ritva has asked of us for this week’s Lens-Artists Challenge. I’ve never been all that good at playing with all the dials of my camera. I’m no expert at ICM – Intentional Camera Movement, though rather excellent at its opposite, UCM (work it out …) – I usually delete those. Nor do I do much processing of my images. Nevertheless, I came across this little batch of abstracts in my search through my photos. Can you guess where each is from?

My feature photo was deliberately taken for its abstract qualities. As was this one …

Water’s often good at being abstract, and in different moods too. Look.

And it doesn’t have to be deep water either.

… or look at these …

Perhaps even the absence of water …

Here’s a little glossary of where each image was taken, in order:

a: An entrance to the Victoria & Albert Museum, London.
b: A bridge over the Leeds-Liverpool Canal at Gargrave, North Yorkshire.
c: Albert Dock, Liverpool.
d: Reservoir, Nosterfield, North Yorkshire.
e: Lake Ohrid, North Macedonia.
f: A winter puddle on a track near home.
g: The beach at Filey, North Yorkshire.
h: An aquarium at the Horniman Museum, London.
i: A display of bubbles on the South Bank London.
j: Scar House Reservoir, North Yorkshire during the drought of 2020.