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Showing posts from September, 2014

Taking Stock

'Sunset Bardsey' by Tom Tomos We’ve spent two days this week cataloguing Tom’s paintings which were rather haphazardly stored when we moved here three years ago. It’s been a joy to see old favourites, discover forgotten gems and to change the mood of our living rooms with different works. Not everyone has the chance to get a private viewing of a major retrospective of an artist’s work – nearly a hundred paintings - but my pride in Tom’s achievement has been tinged with frustration that he isn’t receiving wider recognition. He’s not alone, of course, Andrew Graham-Dixon’s BBC programme about David Bomberg , whose critical stock rose only after his death from malnutrition, was a powerful reminder of how cruel the creative Fates can be.  Drinking my tea this morning, I ruefully listened to Radio Four’s Today programme giving author David Nicholls over four minutes of airtime to promote his new book, Us , and to tell listeners how pleased he was that his comedy about marr

Making Memories

Coffee time in Whistable ‘Keep Making Memories’ reads the slogan on the Shearings coach we’re following on the motorway. An auspicious sign for our holiday break with Ma, perhaps. It also, along with treating people how you would wish to be treated, resonates with my personal philosophy of trying to make the most of every day. As a line from a particularly moving scene in one of my favourite films, Blade Runner , goes; ‘all these moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain’ - which is why every minute is precious. Alas, our first holiday meal proves memorable for all the wrong reason. We’ve booked in to a Premier Inn at Herne Bay to explore the Kent coast. The Premier Inn itself is clean and efficient with polite, helpful staff; so helpful, in fact, that when our online reservation at the next door 'Table Table' appears to have failed, the receptionist remakes the booking and even comes to our room to assure us we have a table for three at 6.30pm. Beach huts

Why I'm Running for Pancreatic Cancer UK

When you’re sitting, waiting with fragile hopes , in a hospital room for relatives, it’s brutal to be told instead, ‘the operation was a complete success – but we couldn’t remove the cancer.’ On October 5th I’m taking part in the Cardiff Half Marathon for the fourth time, but on this occasion I’m also aiming to raise as much money as possible for Pancreatic Cancer UK . Pancreatic cancer is known as the ‘silent’ killer because many of its symptoms reflect less serious illnesses meaning that by the time diagnosis is confirmed it’s often too late – which is what happened to my dad. The Whipple procedure, the major surgery he withstood, which might have prolonged his life, came too late.  I’m afraid I can’t provide photos of sad kittens or cute puppies to make my chosen cause seem more appealing. Pancreatic cancer isn’t very pretty, it’s cruel, it ravages strong beautiful bodies and is no respecter of fame, talent or fortune. Here, instead, are a few illustrations of what the dis

Mists and Mellow Fruitfulness

September arrives in mist Having won the ‘pinch, punch, first of the month’ battle for the first time in ages, I get up to make tea to find a truly autumnal start to the month with mist obscuring Cardigan Bay. Eight years of living in the Welsh countryside have made us acutely aware of the changes marking the passing seasons. Over the last week, the colours of the leaves have changed on a daily basis; the wash of green is now tinted with reds and golds and the hedgerows are jewelled with berries. Country living’s also opened our eyes to the possibilities nature’s abundance offers. After the success of our elderflower champagne – which has added a real note of celebration to summer evenings - we went out last sunny Saturday, to gather elderberries and blackberries to make red fizz to brighten up the darker nights. We're keeping an eye on those sloes! Taking a few elderberries from several trees Elderberry fizz in the making! Given I have extreme Tomato Phobia, I