A highland fling

Some images of our recent stay in the highlands. Considering the autumnal colours, this could almost be "Leaves from the Journal of Our life in the Highlands", which I've never read, but I suspect ranks as one of the least exciting tomes from an era filled with them.

But I miss the tranquility that this beautiful spot affords; the time for reflection, which I hope our dear cousins across another pond are using wisely to decide the fate of many, and many things in the coming years.

By the seat of their pants

This morning's breakfast somewhat indigestible by this sight from the kitchen window. Not quite "nice work if you can get it", but I am always surprised at the apparent lack of fear by these acrobatic plasterers, and window cleaners.

Surprised, terrified, and in awe.

Going strong since 1707

Artwork on every stair landing

The classic old entrance, vandalised by a modern plasterboard ceiling, and the fire escape sign.

A cupola in the older section, with painted ceiling.

A modern cupola, above the modern circular stairway to the wine department, below:

And destined to last another 300 years through bubbles, (South Sea, credit-crunched, or from a good bottle of champagne), I've no doubt.

In an attempt to find amusement in hard times, there can be no better place to go than Fortnum's in Piccadilly. I was in search of respite from the traffic jam on Piccadilly, and in a quest for another sort of jam. In any event, an interesting interlude, with plenty of candy, (for the eye, and for the stomach).

The Nouveaux Pauvre

The current maelstrom in the financial markets reminds me that we have of course been here before. This book was given to me in 1984, although I can't quite recall the gloom of that period, (perhaps a UK housing crash), and there have of course been stock market crashes, (in my memory at least), in 1987, 1997 (in Asia), and now this.

Next time remember not to be too greedy, and cash in in 2017. And remember, however ghastly it seems today, it will be but a distant memory...in two or three years. (Well, I suppose anything would after that time lapse.)

But being nouveaux pauvre is much less worse than being nouveaux riche. Obviously. (See, there are some benefits.)

Rags to Bitches

Richard Blackwell, of "worst dressed list" fame enjoyed the epithet given to him, as "the worst bitch in the world", and whose autoboigraphy was entitled "Rags to Bitches", died last week at the age of 86, no doubt appropriately attired. Vide:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/obituaries/3231642/Richard-Blackwell.html

Just because you go to church...

In a very brief and unusual diversion from the topics at hand, read this.
http://margaretandhelen.wordpress.com/
Really.

A serious side of being absolutely fabulous

Again, this is somewhat off-topic, but if anyone feels they can spare the time to support Joanna Lumley's campaign for the Gurkha's desire to live in Britain, as a right that should be given to the many who supported Britain over nearly two centuries, can they click on: http://www.gurkhajustice.org.uk/ and leave the "Resident of UK" blank if you are not. Then follow the instruction in red: click again on the "Join the Campaign" box, and these petitions will be presented to 10 Downing Street separately to those from UK residents.

Thanks if you can help; and please pass it on.

What a bore...

Katharine Hepburn, the last true star

"What a bore," she'd drawl in her distinct New England/Bryn Mawr accent and then immediately move on to discuss or do something she deemed "really" important. Really important things to Kate were all do to with finding joy in the simple, basic elements of life. Chopping wood outside and then building a decent fire. Eating dark chocolate after dinner and drinking a strong whisky before. Always having three meals a day. Getting a good night's sleep. Having fresh flowers in the house because "you can't be miserable in a room full of flowers." Going to bed early and getting up at dawn – "Why waste the day? So much to see." Swimming every morning in the ocean, regardless of the weather. Taking cold showers – "Exhilarating!"

Read the rest of the aricle here:

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/arts/main.jhtml?xml=/arts/2008/10/23/bfhepburn123.xml

Just looking

The excitement at Piccadilly Circus was tempered by this clever window display at the Lladro shop in Piccadilly, showing two sets of Thai dancers, on either side of a gilded frame, as if reflected in a looking glass, with the pair nearest to the street in white and silver and the opposite pair in full colour.

"Reflections" obviously had a double meaning here, as it was difficult to photograph through the shop's window, but it does allow a glimpse of the horrendous traffic jam that was building as a result of the air ambulance activities mentioned in yesterday's post.

London street theatre

Is it a bird, is it a plane...? A leisurely stroll from Leicester Square to Piccadilly, past the statue of Eros was enlivened by the landing of an air ambulance helicopter right in the centre of Piccadilly Circus, (appropriately named once again, albeit with a different meaning), causing tourists to scurry from the steps around Eros, and traffic from Piccadilly, Regent Street and Shaftesbury Avenue to come to a complete standstill. And on a Friday afternoon.

Walking never seemed a better idea.

London walking tour

The London walking tour continued from Buckingham Palace, down Birdcage Walk to Parliament Square, past the Palace of Westminster, (Houses of Parliament), along Millbank, with the Thames on the left and government office buildings with decorative archways (above) to the right, on our way to Tate Britain, (formerly The Tate), with a little refreshment and sustenance, (it would be convenient to suggest an egg sandwich, but it wasn't) in Bessborough Gardens (top), whilst viewing the dappled light playing on the fountain in the centre.

Bacon

The introduction from the Tate's brochure explains Francis Bacon much better than I could, so I reproduce it here, (click on the picture to read in larger font). The two lower pictures were in the exhibition. The first was based on Valazquez's portrait of Pope Innocent X (Head VI 1949), and he made a number of studies.

The second (triptych) is conveniently entitled Second Triptych 1944, painted in 1988.

A photograph of Bacon's studio is also reproduced from the Tate brochure, the state of which shouldn't surprise. It was a fascinating expose, and I learned a great deal from it, and enjoyed the experience. As I've said about other art, these are enjoyable to view in a gallery, but not something that I would hang on my own walls; there are other, less startling ways of waking up during the day.

There's also the very minor consideration of what used to be termed money, a commodity most of us have less of than we did twelve months ago.

But as we're learning, Art is the new investment of choice: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/arts/main.jhtml?xml=/arts/2008/10/21/basales121.xml

These boots are made for walking

The personal walking tour past Buckingham Palace began at Spencer House in St James's. Having read Peak of Chic's recommendation, I thought it was time to visit, as I had not done so before. However, I misread the opening times, and discovered that it was only open on a Sunday, hence the outside photograph with obliging greyhound, and less obliging Royal Mail van. The other pictures are reproduced from the Spencer House leaflet, the beauty of which pains me for what I missed.

I had every intention of going the following Sunday, but Saturday night's partying activities rather put a damper on that good intention. Next time perhaps.

The most ironic thing that occurred to me was the close proximity of Spencer House to St James's Palace, (the former home of the bachelor Prince of Wales), and the adjacent Clarence House, (the current home of the same remarried prince, aka The Duke of Cornwall). Whilst Diana never lived at Spencer House, this twist of history is one that amuses me.

I will not add to the very interesting descriptions that Peak of Chic made about the history of the house, its architects and interior designers.

London in fine weather is a fantastic city for walking, and the Queen's Walk in Green Park a pleasant stroll from Piccadilly to the Victoria Memorial. But our journey went much further on that day alone, about which more later. Good walking shoes are essential, but despite being appropriately shod, my shin splints are still aching after nearly two weeks.

I've been to London to visit the Queen...

...Victoria Memorial

...an autumnal sun-drenched Buckingham Palace

...the glistening gates of Green Park

Pussy-cat, pussy-cat where have you been?

Gone Fishing...

...shooting, hunting, aka "visiting the family". Back in a few.