Thankful Thursday: A Day Out With Catriona

Catriona goes back to school next week.  She is a weekly boarder but will not get home for the first two weekends.   I thought it was about time we had another day out together.  Coincidentally her Mum had to go into the practice today so when I asked Catriona last night if she would like to go and see The Book Thief today she was very happy to do so.  So at 9am we set off to play a couple of games of croquet (Thursday is a club day).  Then Catriona suggested lunch at The Groove Kitchen.  This is a place that I pass almost daily and yet have never been into.  I have been missing a lot.  The service and lunch was good and having looked on Trip Advisor I see that I have been missing far more than I realised.  I shall be back.

"If I make silly faces you won't put it on your blog!"  - Got that one wrong didn't you Catriona?

A large milk shake whilst waiting for lunch (taken with my phone in less-than-perfect light).

Coincidentally we met friends at the cinema and watched The Book Thief.  I had tried to read the book on the strong recommendation of a lady at croquet.  I struggled and never got very far.  One of the friends with whom we watched it this afternoon said that the film was better than the book.  I do not think that there was a dry eye in the cinema by the time it had finished. 

Of course there was the mandatory sitting in the sun having an ice cream on the way home.

The day ended at 11.30 at night when Wendy and Martin, Jamie and Catriona eventually made their way from The Cottage up the drive to bed (or for Wendy and Martin to pack for their trip to Wellington after their last patient this afternoon).

How could one be anything other than very thankful for such a wonderful day?

Grandfather For a Day

I had Catriona, The Family's eleven year old daughter, for the day today.

"I don't like crossing Tennyson Street on my own, Graham."  So Catriona this morning when we went into town.  "Well you can always hold my hand if you want to." said I smiling "but you may not want to do that."  "The point is, Graham," came the response "people might think that I was helping you across the street."  

As I couldn't stop laughing we nearly missed the green go man at the traffic lights.

That set the tone for the rest of the day.  Catriona is witty and entertaining company and a joy to be with.  But then I'm not a parent!  As everyone assumed that I was her grandfather, though, I was delighted to take the role on for the rest of our time together today.

 

Imagine a 3D movie of animated characterisations of cavemen called The Croods.  The Dreamworks blurb describes it as a prehistoric comedy adventure that follows the world's first family as they embark on a journey of a lifetime when the cave that has always shielded them from danger is destroyed. Traveling across a spectacular landscape, the Croods discover an incredible new world filled with fantastic creatures -- and their outlook is changed forever.  Does that sound just like my sort of film?  No.  However Catriona thought it would be a good idea to see it (and I certainly wasn't going to be party to her seeing any of the other 4 or 5 films that were showing at the cinema!).  We were the only people in that screening (actually on the way out we did see a young couple hidden on the back row: ah memories).  And you know what?  I thought it was brilliant.  I'd never seen a 3D movie since the days of those red and green paper spectacles you held up in front of your eyes and was mesmerised by the effects.  Catriona dismissed the 3D effects as below average.  We both agreed on the fact that it had been well worth seeing.

Afterwards I took her to play croquet.  She enjoyed that too.

Home for spag bol and another film until Mum and Dad came home from the practice and came down to The Cottage see how we'd got on (and so I fed them too).

I still can't work out what I have done to deserve such a good life these days?

On Prejudice and Movies

How often do references to things relating to James Bond films or Star Wars films crop up in every day life?    The answer always seems to me to be 'quite frequently'.  There can be few people in any country where this blog is read who have not heard of James Bond and at least some of the characters who appear in Star Wars.

I, for example, know that Ursula Andress walked out of the sea dressed in a white bikini (who does not know that?) and that Darth Vader, R2D2 and C3PO appear in Start Wars as do Light Sabres.  I might dredge up other morsels if questioned more specifically on James Bond but, on the whole, my ignorance of these topics is astonishing.  "So what?" you may well ask and, until recently I would have taken the view that not being able to complete Trivial Pursuits games nor half the quizes The Family play was a small price to pay for not having to endure those films.

Generally speaking I don't like science fiction nor fantasy and Bond and Start Wars seem to fit those categories rather well in my mind.  So how come I am, and have been since I first read it in the early '70s, addicted to The Lord of The Rings?  Why did I think Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials Trilogy was superb and compelling?   Why do I admire the ideas behind Anne McCaffrey's 'Ship' books?  The answer, it occurred to me a few months ago, is blind prejudice.  As that is a trait I find absolutely unacceptable in most walks of life I decided that I had better think again about James Bond and Star Wars.

So last week I hired the DVDs of Dr No (the first Bond Film from 1962) and Star Wars: The Phantom Menace (Episode 1 of the Star Wars Trilogy from 1999 - the sequence in which the six films should be viewed is, I discovered, the subject matter of  many articles on the internet). 

By the standards of modern film making and even TV series The Bond film seemed amateur and silly - but then it was made half a century ago.  The Star Wars movie did nothing for me but it was interesting to see some of the characters of whom I have heard (although not Alec Guiness's character).

Will I watch some more?  Yes.  I have the second of each series waiting by the television and when I have some ironing or a quiet evening then I may well educate myself further.  Never again will I be able to claim that I have never seen a Bond or Start Wars film right through.

The Time Traveller's Wife

One of the things that I really wish I'd given a higher priority too is keeping my book blog up to date.  Not that I read all that much these days.  I always seem to have much higher priorities for my time: an incomprehensible statement for people like CJ and many of my friends.  Add to that the fact that I'm a very slow reader and the problem shouldn't be so big.  One of the problems in not keeping it up to date is that I often just cannot recall the ins and outs of books I have read over the last few years even though I have a reasonable recollection (leastways I think I do) of books I read when I was in my early 20s.

One book I've been trying to read is The Time Traveller's Wife , Audrey Niffenegger's début novel.  I started it several years ago and it's travelled back and forth between Scotland and New Zealand several times but despite many attempts and re-starts (several from the beginning) I've never got past half-way.  Last year I attempted to watch the film but even that defeated me and I didn't get past the first half hour.  I don't even know why I found it so hard to cope with.  Yesterday, however, I had a breakthrough:  I watched the film to the end.  

There might be a few amongst you you have not read the novel nor seen the film.  For you here is a synopsis of the basis of the book:

Using alternating first-person perspectives, the novel tells the stories of Henry DeTamble (born 1963), a librarian at the Newberry Library in Chicago, and his wife, Clare Anne Abshire (born 1971), an artist who makes paper sculptures. Henry has a rare genetic disorder, which comes to be known as Chrono-Displacement, that causes him to involuntarily travel through time. When 20-year-old Clare meets 28-year-old Henry at the Newberry Library in 1991 at the opening of the novel, he has never seen her before, although she has known him most of her life.

The book, though a huge sales success on publication in 2003, did not receive the rave reviews that might have been expected with some criticism of its pedestrian writing and style and sometimes contrived though clever plot.  In general, the film received mixed-to-negative reviews. For example, The New York Times wrote that the film was an "often ridiculous, awkward, unsatisfying and dour melodramatic adaptation".  I had never read any reviews until I came to write this post (or if I had I've completely forgotten).  Perhaps sub-consciously I just didn't find the book satisfying.

Maybe now that I've seen the film I can one day watch it again so that I can appreciate all the bits I didn't take in and perhaps, just perhaps, I will have another go at the book.  It's one that I feel I ought to have mastered.

Who Mentioned Bruges?

Someone recently mentioned Bruges in a blog post.  I know they did.  I'm sure they did.  I'm sure because mention was made (and there was a YouTube clip) of the film In Bruges.  Comment was made that regardless of the film's merits it showed lots of footage of the old city of Bruges.  I thought that it was Jenny Woolf of The English Travel Writer.  I suppose that was a natural association.  I went to Jenny's blog this evening to comment and discovered that it wasn't her blog where I'd seen it.

I can't find a reference anywhere. 

So this evening having watched the film (not to be recommended except for the scenery) I don't know to whom I want to make that fact known.  Can anyone help me?  Pleeeeeeeeease!

Life can be very frustrating sometimes.

Now That's a Hedge

There are two quotes from modern films which come into my mind fairly frequently: 

The moment in Pretty Woman as Vivian gets her own back on the rude shop assistant:

1. Shop assistant: “Hello, can I help you?”
Vivian: “I was in here yesterday, you wouldn’t wait on me.”
Shop assistant: “Oh.”
Vivian: “You people work on commission, right?”
Shop assistant: “Yeah.”
Vivian: “Big mistake. Big. Huge. I have to go shopping now.”

The second was from Crocodile Dundee when Mick Dundee and Sue are accosted by a knife wielding mugger and Mick says  "That's not a knife.  That's a knife." in this sketch.

Well when I was driving back from Tauranga a few weeks ago I stopped in the Te Puke area and realised I was enclosed by hedges around the Kiwi fruit orchards.  In fact hedges like this are common in the fruit growing areas of New Zealand which includes, of course, Hawkes Bay where I live.  Anyway it occurred to me that when in the UK we talk about our hedges an appropriate reply would be:  They're not hedges.  These are hedges:

The Hours

I watched The Hours last night.  I watched it last year too.  What is really weird is that I could hardly remember a single bit of the plot and very little of the detail either.  I remembered the people/actors and some of the scenes as they unfolded and the wonderfully deep and moving score by Philip Glass.  It made me wonder whether I had been watching it whilst I had been blogging or something or whether I just found it too emotionally stressful at the time.  In fact it is an incredibly emotional film but last night I had no problem watching it.  I think I can say without fear of being wrong that I won't forget it a second time!

It almost goes without saying that Meryl Streep was superb.  However Nicole Kidman, who is not one of my favourite actresses (I always tend to think of her as a one-person Nicole Kidman publicity machine after Moulin Rouge) was also superb as Virginia Woolf.

I must read Mrs Dalloway.

Can I Remember?

What I was going to tell you about yesterday?  It was all very clear at one o'clock this morning but by that time bed seemed a better option.  This morning yesterday seems so long ago and much less important.  It was, however, a very Good Day.  

The House is at the stage where all the alterations are coming to the point where the plasterers, electrician, builder and painters are all there together and there is nowhere to sit or think or eat allthough it's possible to cook and for some to sleep in their own bedrooms!

Even the pool builders have started on their bit of the job:

Martin, Jamie and Fraser are off camping with the Scouts so Wendy, David and Catriona came down for dinner (all prepared and sent down by Wendy to my oven).  After we'd eaten and watched Ice Road Truckers (if you ever get the opportunity it really is worth watching) the youngsters returned to watch DVDs or whatever in the safety of their bedrooms at The House whilst Wendy and I settled down with the cheese to watch The Girl Who Played With Fire - based on the second of the books by Stieg Larsson.  It is in Swedish with subtitles so one cannot even look away for a minute in case one misses an important point.  It's a very intense film and rather unusual in that the 'heroine' is not the most likeable of characters.  I thought I might have nightmares but I didn't and I'll watch the third film in the series very soon.

A piece of trivia for anyone who has seen the film.  The name on Salander's apartment door, V. Kulla, is a reference to Astrid Lindgren's character Pippi Longstocking and her house Villa Villekulla?

Misty was down, of course, and, having been newly shorn looks a fraction of the size she did a few days ago.

Newly shorn Misty and Catriona finishing her desert.

A more hairsuite Misty

After Wendy had returned to The House I decided to experiment with a few night shots.  There was some cloud and the moon was shining so I decided to see what I could do shooting North from the deck of The Cottage with Napier over the hill in front of me.  The result was quite interesting because the orange in the sky which is the result of the lights in Napier was not visible to the human eye (well not to mine anyway).  The visible stars were not very great either because I used a very low ISO and 30 sec exposure.  There's lots of fun to be had with these yet although I've discovered that my camera has severe limitations for nighttime use.

Anna and The King

When I was about 12 I went to see the film The King and I.  I think I must have fallen in love with Deborah Kerr because I went to see it six times!  Tonight whilst I was ironing and cooking for tomorrow I watched Anna and The King on DVD.  I know that I've had the opportunity to watch it before when on flights but I never have.  What a film!  I was mesmerised by the costumes, the scenery, by the acting, by the story and, in fact, by just about everything.  And when it ended I had a slightly damp handkerchief.  If you haven't already done so then might I suggest that you watch it.

Quotes: 

King Mongkut to Anna: When a woman who has much to say says nothing, her silence can be deafening. 

King Chulalongkorn (King Mongkut's son) at the end of the film:  It is always surprising how small a part of life is taken up by meaningful moments. Most often they are over before they start although they cast a light on the future and make the person who originated them unforgettable. Anna had shined such a light on Siam.

Life is Mostly Froth and Bubble

I stayed with a friend a while back.  She does not watch television.  However she and the family do watch films (or movies or DVDs or whatever one wants to call them).  I’ve spoken before about my relationship with films.  I like feel-good-factor movies and abhor violence and things that challenge me too much.  Life is challenging enough without subjecting oneself to it voluntarily.  I recently went with her to see  the excellent film "The Kings Speech" and thereafter we discussed the amount of symbolism in it.  I learned a lot from her because I'd never really thought about it before.  I'd been a very shallow watcher of films.

Last night I watched a very light film, A Good Year, chosen at the rental store because it was shot in Provence in France.  As is my wont I only half watched it whilst I was doing other things.  However I was quite taken by it and, unusually, not feeling particularly well this evening, I decided to settle down on the couch and watch it again.  There was quite a lot of (fairly inconsequential) symbolism and there were some really amusing moments and a few quotes of note which, of course, are more meaningful in context:

Fanny Chenal: I'm sorry, I'm too busy to ignore you now.

Max Skinner: This place does not suit my life
Fanny Chenal: No Max, it's your life that does not suit this place.

and on a lighter note:  "I love your accent."  Reply  "I love your bum."

Of course it had a happy ending.  

What a Difference a Day Makes

It has rained solidly since daybreak.  We played 7 games of croquet in the pouring rain.  By the time we had finished we had had more than enough and were wet through.

Then life changed.  I went out to dinner then Eclectic Friend and I went to see The Kings Speech.  What a truly excellent film.  Now I can see what all the fuss and hype has been about.  Now I can see that Colin Firth has become a truly great actor.

I cannot say that I enjoyed the first 7 hours of the day.  But the rest of the day has been as good as it gets.

The Simple Pleasures

A few days ago a friend asked how I managed to do so much.  I don't think I do achieve much but I replied saying, amongst other things, that I rarely sat and watched TV or movies without doing other things because I felt guilty if I did.  Yesterday Heather posted on Simple Pleasures.  So yesterday I got some DVDs to watch.  Early evening came and I had a lot of ironing to do so I watched the film The Painted Veil.  I am a great admirer of Somerset Maugham, have his collected works and have read most of them.  The film is beautifully shot in China and although I can't recall the book the film certainly reeks of genuine Maugham.  This seems to have given me a taste of relaxation and later in the evening I sat and watched Wall Street, a rather good 1987 film about the corruption of industrial espionage and insider trading on the Market. 

Today has been a very simple day culminating in The Family (less David) coming for dinner and afterward watching the film Mao's Last Dancer which Wendy brought down.  I had been recommended to read the book by some friends and was keen to see the film.  

During the film Catherine - a friend from Scotland to whose wedding Wendy and I and the two youngest children had gone last June - rang.

Everyone seemed to enjoy the meal.  After the nibbles I'd done Kumi Kumi - a sort of pumpkin - stuffed with  a meat  sauce with cauliflower cheese for the adults and meatballs in a tomato and herb sauce with pasta for the children.  Children never cease to amaze me.  Fortunately there was enough of everything to feed an army.   Everything, that is except the cauliflower cheese which I'd decided to go easy on because I 'knew' the children wouldn't want any.  Wrong.  The children who a while ago wouldn't look at cauliflower now wanted it in large measure.   They also ate the Kumi Kumi.  Anyway no one starved and the fridge will supply me with meals for the foreseeable future!

So the simplest of evenings turned into the most pleasurable of evenings.  In fact it's been a couple of days of appreciating very simple pleasures.  Thank you Heather for making me aware.

A family relaxing watching the film and talking to Catherine 12000 miles away - amazing!

A Village Called Whangara

Earlier in the week I went to Whangara (wh is pronounced f): a village 29 km North of Gisborne on New Zealand's North East coast. It is the home of a Maori tribe known as Ngati Kanohi, whose earliest ancestor arrived on the back of a whale. This is where the book and film Whalerider is set (and shot) and the people of Whangara are the people you see on the screen. They're whale people. They have lived on that piece of land for a thousand years. Their sense of matemate-a-one is very is very strong In Maori culture the phenomenon of matemate-a-one describes the sickness experienced when parted from tribal land—a grieving for place. It is beyond love. It's a sickness that affects the mind and the soul, a primal response to and a craving for a particular place. For home.

We didn't go down into the Village because so many people do that it would, to us, have felt like an invasion of privacy. So I contented myself with a feeling of the place and photos from above using my telephoto lens.