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Showing posts with label marrow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marrow. Show all posts

Friday, 12 October 2007

Enjoying the marrow and a bacon and egg sandwich




Lin cut the marrow from Ano Korakiana into sections, took out the seeds and stuffed the hollow with mince, topped each section with cheese and put them in the oven. We ate them with carrots, baked potatoes and gravy. How I do like stuffed marrow.
* * *
This week I've been teaching some Japanese civil servants. They are here to learn about local government in the UK, to practise their English and get a feel for British culture. We have WiFi in the lecture room and with that and a number of colleagues to teach their specialist subjects they will know more than 99.999% of the British public about local government, and a good deal rather more than most British citizens about our culture. Chris Game, who with David Wilson, has written the definitive textbook on British Local Government is with them for nearly two days of their two weeks. Peter Watt, as knowledgeable about finance and performance, was with them for a day and half. We had a typically provocative overview of 'Our Island Story' from Lesley Prince who arrived with flags, swords, history books, old English texts, a smattering of Japanese and a story that begins with the ice age and continued to the English Civil War and the seeds of a democracy based on universal suffrage sown at Putney in October and November 1647 - 360 years ago this month. We've been to the Court Leet at Henley-in-Arden. I've done sessions on the spirit of British Administration, on Overview and Scrutiny and on 'narrowcasting'. Our director, Martin Willis, talked about care of the elderly, which included an experiment in which he knocked on our door and then just walked in, and then knocked and waited until asked in. He was exploring the experience of independence in care homes, one of which the students visited in Castle Vale. In between all this I took them round our tree filled campus explaining the idea of a redbrick university and the role of Joseph Chamberlain in the founding of Birmingham University. We gazed down from the podium in the Great Hall and stared up at the hundred metre high Old Joe Clock Tower. "He saw a tower like this when he was on holiday in Sienna". An extra bonus was an exclusive tour of the Barber Institute - an exquisite place where we rejoiced in seeing Degas, Monet, Cezanne, Van Gogh, Constable, Turner, Ingres, Van Dyke and many other works so close to. I needed to warn them about traffic hazards on the road between their lecture room and where they ate.Yesterday morning I bought an egg and bacon sandwich from the Baguette Stall at Five Ways and explained its role in British culture. All this week I've been enjoying cycling to and from campus, but rising each morning at 7 and not turning in until after midnight has left me quite tired. I'm looking forward to the weekend - though here's a load of errands to get through at home.
* * *
We've booked seats to go back to Corfu at the end of January for over three weeks.

Thursday, 4 October 2007

Home to England - with a fat marrow


Just before we left 208 Democracy Street, Lin silicone sealed the gutter above the balcony. Martin has realigned the drain on the west side. I've wheeled the plaka from that side so that at last that side of the house has recovered its neat curtilage against the path to the lower road. Lin has finished and planted up a rockery at the end of the garden. All we can hope now is that David and Miguel will be able to set about getting the roof right at last before we return. On leaving Katherina agreed, in return for a gift she pressed on us of sweet dried herbs and a carved camel, to ensure that the food in our fridge was not wasted. Cala taxidi, cala taxidi, blown kisses and waves. Same from the Leftheris as they worked on their wine making. 'It will be ready to drink when you return'. The lemons and oranges cluster green on our trees but, with our neighbour's blessing, we've brought back a fat deep green gourd bellied marrow from the plant that overlapped our garden.

Flying got us from Greece to England, across the Adriatic, the Alps and the English Channel, in a viewless void, but for a glimpse through a tiny window of clouds and, for a while, some dark anonymous peaks. We left in the afternoon and arrived later in the afternoon and lugging our belongings - lighter than on the outward journey - among commuters in suits, squabbled on the platform of Reading Station about flying versus trains and ferries as preferred ways of travelling. Read a copy of the Independent with grim images of the the north pole's diminishing ice. The news of the days - UK versions - is scarfing back into my consciousness and in the kitchen there was again the television, which for a month has been no more than peripheral in bars on Corfu, incomprehensible, easily ignored. News came by e-mail of friends whose house near London was destroyed, with all their belongings and childhood mementos, some weeks ago by a lightning strike which would, had they not been on holiday in America (where they were traced and recalled by the local police), have probably killed them.
This morning I waded in the chill water as yet undrained from the edge of our dew and rain damp garden and filled bird feeders. Last night we went through our mail - mostly junk. All work related things and household bills were handled over the web while we were in Corfu. It was a pleasure to see Oscar again and find the house less chaotic than expected.
Off on my bicycle to Priorsfield at the University, in a moment, to tutor a post-graduate teaching programme on Oversight and Scrutiny that has attracted a good complement of participants. Lin sleeps in our room with the alarm set for 10.00am and Richard, who we heard moving around in the night, lies asleep in the front room, with a watery sun shining on his head on the pillow.

Της αγάπης αίματα
με πορφύρωσαν
και χαρές ανείδωτες
με σκιάσανε
οξειδώθηκα μες στη νοτιά
των ανθρώπων
μακρινή μητέρα
ρόδο μου αμάραντο

Στ' ανοιχτά του πέλαγου
με καρτέρεσαν
με μπομπάρδες τρικάταρτες
και μου ρίξανε
αμαρτία μου να 'χα κι εγώ
μιαν αγάπη
μακρινή μητέρα
ρόδο μου αμάραντο

Τον Ιούλιο κάποτε
μισανοίξανε
τα μεγάλα μάτια της
μες στα σπλάχνα μου
την παρθένα ζωή μια στιγμή
να φωτίσουν
μακρινή μητέρα
ρόδο μου αμάραντο

μακρινή μητέρα
ρόδο μου αμάραντ

Richard and Amy

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Simon Baddeley