The little composing house in the woods

 

 

 

The main aim of the last day of my holiday in Reifnitz, Austria, was to visit for the fourth time, Gustav Mahler’s little composing hut that is hidden high in the forest behind his lake front home. It was in a way, nice that I was the only visitor first thing this morning; I find it quite astonishing that so few people visit his tiny house in the woods where he wrote so many major works. Today there was plenty of time to talk with the young woman who is there both to take the 3 euro’s entry fee and to answer questions for visitors. She told me that Mahler got up every day at 6am, during the summer months when he stayed in his summer home in Maiernigg that is just outside of Klagenfurt. 

He would immediately ring for his cook to take his breakfast up to his composing house. The servant was to take a shorter route carrying a heavy tray with household china crockery and cutlery with his breakfast. He had a different jam for every day of the week. Mahler only wore old clothes there and did not want to see or speak to anybody during his serious daily work period. The reason for the isolated hut was that even the normal household noises of family and servants prevented him from writing peacefully. He was under a great deal of pressure because of his position as the Director of the Vienna Court Opera. 

As I said, this was visit number four for me and I have yet to go in and move around without tears welling up in my eyes as I listen to music written whilst he was there, and knowing that he took his family away from Maiennigg, after his daughter died aged four and a half from Scarlett Fever. He was later diagnosed with a serious heart defect. The little house is full of his spirit, I feel him so strongly, as is the area outside where he sat at a bench table and ate his breakfast. This morning I sat at that table and moved about inside the house that is only about the size of a modern household garage. There are letters to read and manuscript music to look at. Photos adorn the walls with his wife and children. In the afternoons, he swam in the lake, as I have done during my stay in a hotel just a couple of miles away. He rowed his boat and walked in the woods for hours. 

Looking at the photographs, I was struck by the perfect choice of Robert Powell to play the great man in a movie that I must have seen fifty years ago. He looked just like him. My husband has been here with me twice and was as overcome with emotion as I was, so you see why we get on so well together. This morning, Steve stayed in the lakeside café near the Mahler Haus, catching a few rays and sipping a coffee until I returned from my thoughtful amble up to the house and back on a track that is only shoulder width in many places, and I provided a fine meal for a mosquito of two on the journey. I realise that I am a bit of a softy but then I think many classical music lovers are; romance in the soul you know, that’s the problem.

 

 

 

 

 

Direction Optional

 

It was the second time today that I fancied a swim

With two days of sunshine the water had warmed

Through still waters I swam when a thought formed

As one hand and the other front to back skim

Practised front crawl stroke rhythmically performed

Tiny bubbles from my nose and mouth swarmed

Balance and movement with efficiency trimmed 

Swimming pool restrictions newly left far behind

Vacation free time for relaxation will tension move

Calming pressured nerves and mental issues smooth

Work put aside for a few stolen days clears the mind

Weary muscles ease whilst leisure makes its groove

Silent hopes that the easy therapy will health improve

Holidays don’t last forever a fact to which I am resigned 

A whole lake to swim wherever greedy eyes are longing

To close the eyes and swim blind is strangely appealing

It matters not where the secret line is you are stealing

No rules or restrictions just happiness prolonging

Caressing silken water sensory pleasure all but squealing

No roof above nor solid enclosing permanent ceiling

Duty left completely now in this delightful belonging 

A minds deep question is could life have so free a direction

Monotony is not obligatory in the life you have wrought

Lead rather than follow and cast out a life so fraught

Living your dream to give yourself with true affection

No battle is won without heart felt ideals firmly taught

The chosen path is easier to tread as new spirit is brought

Never hold from adventure through fear of rejection 

Turn away from hateful words to hear the bird song

Be your own back up team for your future candidacy

Never held back by a stick-in-the-mud inadequacy

Listen to advise but know when this is wrong

Wonders will never cease you will think emphatically

Without chains that bind movement eases dramatically

Live a life to the full where you feel that you belong

 

Easier Holiday Days

 

 

Now we are simply on holiday. The big race is over. The photos are all downloaded and resized ready for sending by email or for posting on Facebook. High on the list of ‘Must Do’ chores post event, is to get the race day kit and clothing washed, dried and put away. Since my dear husband could hardly walk and Anthony had to go to the hospital for stitches in his leg in the early hours of his fifty first birthday, the collection of Stephens race kit that was unfortunately delayed until 9am on post race day. This caused the nasty sweaty bike clothes and the wetsuit that had been placed in plastic bags, that were then left for the remainder of race day and through the horrendous thunderstorms overnight and the next morning, to be nicely stewed at a low heat and were recovered, festering well.  

When we got the bags back to our hotel I threw all the kit in our poor unsuspecting bath and left them to soak for a while. The bathroom took on an unpleasant odour none the less. I washed everything several times before hanging it all up over the bath or out on our balcony. I then, smiled sweetly at the housekeeping staff, crossed palms with a little money and asked if I could have a change of towels and no cleaning, since I did not want to be thrown out of the hotel because of the mess that had been made, turning our apartment into a laundry for clobber that smelled as though a group of feral cats had enjoyed a stay. It smells sweeter now again so I will let the ladies in to clean after a three day break. 

Stephen did not register to do the same race next year. I had in a more calm tone of voice the next day said that, if he did enter again that I would not even come with him for the attached holiday, and that I was happy enough for him to go with a group of other guys but I definitely would not ever again be back up crew and that if he did go and I stayed at home, that I would not even track him to see where he was. 

My reason for being so unkind is that I find the whole thing more and more stressful, I had had to lay down for an hour race day, because I felt so awful after he had gone by on the bike for the second lap. I had pains in my back that was, I thought the start of an asthma attack and after taking the inhalers and a rest I recovered enough for the rest of the day. He has competed in thirty one Ironman races and suffered quite badly in the last three. I have competed in eighteen races of that distance and stopped when the last few had made me feel ill. I think some tiny inkling of sense is called for. 

Yesterday Steve took five hot baths and rested some in between. I fell asleep after lunch and that is unheard of for me in daylight hours; not a nap, but sleep of the dead.

 

By evening we all felt a bit better but the three of us were walking badly when we went out for a birthday dinner up in the mountains to celebrate Anthony’s birthday, he had not planned to spent his day with stitches and bandages and plasters over his legs. Steve took him to the airport this morning for his flight home.  

We have a few more days in this pretty Austrian village. At the end of the week, we will be driving to Germany in support of a younger athlete that Steve swim coaches, Craig Hunter, who is competing in Ironman Frankfurt. That event should not be more than some pleasant spectating and shouting encouragement at a much younger fitter athlete.

 

 

Ironman Austria Race Day Part 2

 

The Athlete tracking systems seem to have been honed to a fine art and Anthony gave me updates quickly each time Steve passed one of the timing points. 

Steve was first in his age group out of the swim and he was obviously happy with that when we saw him. He had a good bike ride at a nice steady pace as his splits came up and his total time for what is a hilly ride was 7.19. Anthony and I had been waiting for Steve to come out on to the run course since we arrived on the boat at 3.40pm. From the time that we saw on the tracker that he had made it in off the bike course it seemed like a long wait until he came into sight, at which point we saw immediately that he was in trouble. He was leaning forward quite badly but seemed in good humour still when we first saw him. His body position had got steadily worse when I saw him at the end of the first 10km loop. He was in pain by then with his back that had not straightened out at all after the bike section. I ran ahead and back to keep an eye on him and then waited whilst he did the stretch into the town centre. The run route for Ironman Austria is roughly a 10km loop in one direction and another after that in the opposite direction alongside the canal that goes in to the centre of Klagenfurt and back to the Ironman Village. Then both loops are repeated and with the link sections through the park you get the 42km total. 

It was clear to me that my poor lamb was going to find the second half marathon very hard and that I had better make sure that I was in a good state to be a helper if help was needed. I went and sat in the shade in a café exactly where we had waited for the swim start earlier. I took my shoes and socks off and sat quietly, resting for an hour and twenty minutes before returning to my spotting spot for Steve to begin the last 10 km loop. During that wait I had a phone call from Anthony saying that Steve was in a massive amount of pain and was stooped right forward and could only walk using a stick that Ant had found for him. Anthony told me that I had better work some magic and find some pain killers for him or he was not going to be able to cope. I started approaching groups of athletes who had finished the course and asking all of them for something for pain. I found one group who had no English and no German but that I communicated to, that my husband needed tablets for a bad back. They all when through all their bags and between than they handed over tablets and a squeezy packet of something the spread on his back. Then I hurried along the course toward Steve and Anthony and after several km I found them and produced tablets, medicated gel and water. Then the three of us started off again. Steve was doubled over like some sort of old troll. As we passed the group who had come up with the goods they all stood and cheered him on. About five km later we were approached by an official and we realised it was the race director who we do actually know. Erwin asked if we thought he could make it to the finish or should he call an ambulance. We all swore that he could make it because there was plenty of time. He agreed that Steve could go on but said that we must both stay with him on the course. He also said that he would see us at the finish.  

It was a struggle and I nagged like some old fish wife to keep him moving on. All of our married life Steve has complained that I walk to fast and he did that now and I told him to poke up with the pain and dig deep for whatever he needed to push on.  We did make it in the pitch dark, and Steve staggered up the finish tube and through the finish gantry. The time was 16 hours 58 minutes 19 seconds. He had finished his 31^st Ironman. His worst ever run section that in this event was just a stagger though he legs were working. Eight times winner Miranda Carfrae, place Steve’s medal around his neck 

We had a two km walk in the total black of thunder and lightning flashes to a field where the car was parked. The transition was closed so could not pick up the bike and bags. 

As if all this were not enough trauma; Anthony fell over on the way in to the finish and had to go to hospital to have four stitches in his leg. It was his birthday by the time he got to bed.  It was 2am before lights out. 

Steve’s sport nutrition for the event was three whole bags of Jelly Snakes, coffee in his drinker that he watered down most of the day and Coca Cola on the run (stagger). I added up my mileage for the day and it was 28 kilometres! 17 ½ miles I think. I am a wreck today and have ten mosquito bites and my knee has swollen up. When Steve woke me at 6am I told him to go away because I don’t like him. The day did get better though but not much.  

I have told Steve that if he signs up for another Ironman I will take this event finisher photo and have it made into a tee shirt. I have been trying to trade Steve in for a new one on the internet…. I proposed to Gerard Butler but he declined saying that I was a meanie and would not let him go to football or out with the boys to get drunk. So that’s a no then.

 

 

 

Ironman Austria Race Day Part 1

 

 When I am support crew for Steve I always wear a visi orange coat and day orange glow hat so that each time I shout at him or he is looking for me, I am easy to spot.

The gradual start looked utterly horrendous with wet suited bodies in a zig-zag line that seemed endless. I presume it was supposed to be self seeded but looked to be just an utter shambles and although I did not see the last people through the swim start gantry it was certainly looking like there was no way they would all be able to get along to the start in the time stated. There was pushing and shoving and panicky swimmers asking what swim time this section or that was and then a few clamouring under barriers and some climbing over to advance themselves in a complete panic. 

As efficiently as the bike racking had gone yesterday, so the opposite was the state of the start this morning for the thousands for Ironman or would be Ironman athletes. I stayed with Steve at a point just by the barrier in a place where I should not have been for twenty minutes before an official asked me to step back. After that I quickly lost sight him in the frantic surge toward the water. It looked dangerous.

 

Because of this confusion and having no chance to get to the, I moved hastily on to try to get to the swim exit but again because of this new start the supporters were already three or four deep at that point to I went directly to a free place where I could see the bike out and turn start so I would catch Steve twice. It was a long wait but a good decision. He heard my ear shattering shout as he approached and waved then a minute or so  later biked past as if he was having great fun already and cheekily had a Jelly snake hanging out of his mouth making him look like a lizard. He was happy because he had a good swim in the end. Anthony who had found me by that time told me it was

1 hour 13. 14 quite close to his best hopes. We took the boat to get breakfast.

Coming by the hotel on the second lap he looked as happy as a pig in you know what, waving and smiling an on target at that point. A little while after that there was a thunder storm that lasted about an hour. 

Anthony, and I are going to catch the 3.15 boat back to that run route with our fingers crossed.

Ironman Austria Race Day Part 1

 

 When I am support crew for Steve I always wear a visi orange coat and day orange glow hat so that each time I shout at him or he is looking for me, I am easy to spot.

The gradual start looked utterly horrendous with wet suited bodies in a zig-zag line that seemed endless. I presume it was supposed to be self seeded but looked to be just an utter shambles and although I did not see the last people through the swim start gantry it was certainly looking like there was no way they would all be able to get along to the start in the time stated. There was pushing and shoving and panicky swimmers asking what swim time this section or that was and then a few clamouring under barriers and some climbing over to advance themselves in a complete panic. 

As efficiently as the bike racking had gone yesterday, so the opposite was the state of the start this morning for the thousands for Ironman or would be Ironman athletes. I stayed with Steve at a point just by the barrier in a place where I should not have been for twenty minutes before an official asked me to step back. After that I quickly lost sight him in the frantic surge toward the water. It looked dangerous.

 

Because of this confusion and having no chance to get to the, I moved hastily on to try to get to the swim exit but again because of this new start the supporters were already three or four deep at that point to I went directly to a free place where I could see the bike out and turn start so I would catch Steve twice. It was a long wait but a good decision. He heard my ear shattering shout as he approached and waved then a minute or so  later biked past as if he was having great fun already and cheekily had a Jelly snake hanging out of his mouth making him look like a lizard. He was happy because he had a good swim in the end. Anthony who had found me by that time told me it was

1 hour 13. 14 quite close to his best hopes. We took the boat to get breakfast.

Coming by the hotel on the second lap he looked as happy as a pig in you know what, waving and smiling an on target at that point. A little while after that there was a thunder storm that lasted about an hour. 

Anthony, and I are going to catch the 3.15 boat back to that run route with our fingers crossed.

Ironman Eve

 

The night before Christmas, the thrill of which you remember as a child, is as nothing to the excitement of the penultimate day on the calendar of the endurance triathlete, the Ironman. Bike check-in is this afternoon and is a normally a lengthy procedure, since each athlete is photographed with his or her bike so the chance is any dishonest character trading up, is narrowed as far as is possible. On the day when the competitors would prefer to be resting, there is a usually a huge queue to stand in, but this year the process was amazingly swift, with a team of volunteers with sun brollies shepherding each competitor to their own allocated position in the vast transition area. They have been efficiently filtered in to rack their bike and deposit the bags holding everything they will need for first the bike section and then for the run. Both Steve’s rack position and the spot that his bags were hung were easy to remember places thankfully.  

By this time all bodies should be hair free and chests and legs as smooth as a baby’s bot-bot. The young athlete that Steve first coached, for Sprint, then Olympic and then Ironman distance events many years ago, had a motto from school days that was, ‘Look the part, feel the part and be the part.’ Looking around the crowded scene on check in day one cannot miss that there are a lot of people living by that rule. A fortune spent on kit and millions of pounds worth of bikes racked up ready to go. 

I very often feel that this day is an even bigger trial for the athletes family and support crew and race day tomorrow has often been claimed to be as hard for a worried supporter dashing to various parts of the course, back and forth like a headless chicken waiting to shout, ‘You’re looking good, keep going’ (Only one more lap of 56 miles on the bike course or another half marathon on the run). It is sheer mental torture standing on the side lines in your own personal varicose vein growing farm. The tension is alarming, sheer heart attack stuff. 

Today was blazing hot for friends stand around in, but thunderstorms are forecast overnight and a couple for tomorrow. Our little group of Steve and I and our good friend Anthony who has come with us for support, have our fingers crossed that the weather is not totally awful, yet, as of this moment the sun has disappeared completely and there is heavy cloud and distant rumbles coming in along the lake.  

Disappointed of Littlehampton

 

This morning’s news was such a disappointment to Steve and I and all the other people who had voted to remain in the EU. A nation completely split. I am almost speechless. The two of us have had visions of how awful it used to be on our business travels to France and Germany, how many hours and sometimes days, we have spend waiting for our papers to be stamped and cleared, whilst we were held like cattle in an enclosure with hundreds of other trucks. Facilities were unbearable and we were truly treated like animals. The customs enclosure in Paris did not even have a toilet. There was a bar at the entrance with sawdust on the floor and a single standy-uppy-hole-in- the-ground-toilet. It was barbaric. 

Hopefully some things will have changed for the better but I for one could not face being treated like that, being expected to stand in a huge queue in a smoke filled corridor held at the whim of officers, who would close the customs window take a two hour lunch break. 

It is possible that we could be forced to downsize our business. We have rented two side by side warehouses for a good number of years to conduct our business from but we may have to take a few days to see how this is going to affect us. 

One obvious way that our business will suffer is that as long as I have been married to Steve we have made regular journeys to France to buy furniture for our antiques showroom. All of these goods will be far too expensive after the sinking of the value of the pound, which has to happen. It is a bleak outlook for us and one that will put the light at the end of tunnel at an unreachable distance. 

Of course this ‘NO’ vote is all about fear. Mainly fear about immigration brought about by scare mongering idiots. I am disappointed in the result and in roughly half the nation who were worried into this by some very unpleasant big mouthed people. 

We are on holiday in Austria right now, having sent our postal votes in before we left the UK and the people we know here, cannot believe we have brought this disaster down upon ourselves.  

Fingers, legs and eyes crossed that we do not allow a spiteful buffoon like Nigel Farage, to take up residence in Number 10. Heaven forbid. That could only be made worse by Donald Trump and his family moving into the White House. Get those two throwing abuse at each other and as we used to see as the ominous warning on sandwich boards in our own dark ages; ‘The end of the world is nigh.’

 

 

 

 

 

Ironman Austria Registration and Expo

 

It was the first day for registration and the Ironman Expo this morning, we went in early because Steve was listed in the wrong age group. He is shown in the programme as 75-79 when he should be 65-69. I had emailed about this but was told that it was past the point where it could be changed for the programme. So what was done was that a hand written change was made to his race number and his age group changed in the computer, though the original number was kept thankfully because to our silly little minds it is a good fortune number. His number is 2898. These figures add up to 27 and that divides by three nicely. Both of us have always hoped for number like this, it’s pretty much perfect.

 

The excitement is already building and there are swarms of bikers out on the roads testing the course. The hotel where we always stay has another dozen or more triathletes come to stay in the last day or so and the breakfast buffet was vigorously attacked this morning. This hotel is right on the bike course about six miles out from the transition and race village. 

The expo was buzzing well with the huge new 2016 selection of Ironman merchandise including a tee shirt that has every name in the tiniest print held grouped within the obligatory M-dot logo. There are racks and racks of related sports wear for men women and separate one marked as Ironman supporters and even children’s tee shirts emblazoned with the magical Ironman symbol. 

Steve bought a new pair of Saucony Trainers that he will walk-in for the last few days. He also bought the latest Buff, his favourite headwear for the run. I made a true sucker purchase of a stainless steel cross that has triathlon figures lazered into it. There was a choice of three. One had the Iron distance by each weeny figure, the next simply had the figures for those still among us that have not taken on the full distance. The last one had Hibiscus flowers to suggest the ultimate goal event had been completed; Ironman Hawaii. I am blessed to be entitled to wear that one.

 

 

Summer Solstice Spooky Secret

 

Yesterday was the summer solstice and even though I am on holiday on the Wörter See in Carinthia, I still hoped the weather would be good at Stonehenge. I love Stonehenge and you may laugh but I feel its power. Love it even on just a simple a drive by on the way to somewhere or other I am in awe of the labour it took and the belief it took to place it there. I am one of those folk who are affected by the long dark nights and horrible short days of midwinter. The effect gets worse after the winter solstice and I find January an almost unbearable time. I keep all the lights in the house on all day long and take it personally as the light fades. The only thing that helps just a little, though I am not comforted that others suffer with me, is that I know that we are an army of S.A.D. souls. I was born in August, a child of summer and a child of two people born a few days, both with a week, either side of the summer solstice.  

Here is the poem I wrote yesterday. You may or may not spot the double entendre. Poetry is many things and one person may take something entirely different to the next. For me this has a third meaning also. Anyway it does not really matter. What does matter is that when I placed today’s poem in the numbered and dated folder 600-699, it was number 621 on June 21^st.

Spooky? Maybe. 

Ripple 

Caused by miniscule movement further away

At first only a hint of a ripple might softly rise

Is it a waft of the wind just the slightest spray

When an undercurrent pulls back in surprise 

Absolute source of surge remains unknown

At this beginning harm is never suspected

Yet just as on the air carried a seed is sown

Falls in the soil stays the winter undetected 

Neither the ripple nor the seed start by chance

A force sets them on their course to grow

Both caught in a seemingly harmless dance

The deliberate root cause may never show

 

Final note. If you add together all the numbers in the year 2016…..

You have 9 which divides by 3

It is the Sixth month

Yesterday was the 21^st

9+6+21=36

2+1=3

3+6=9

Just Sayin'....... Funny things happen sometimes. This is a photo taken by my husband Steve a year or so ago, in Littlehampton where we live. It has not been played with, no photo shopping. Nada.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Promotion

 

Yesterday's Zeppelin sighting

After staying in the same family hotel for several years in the past, we were given a better room for our next visit a handful of year’s back, which was a nice token from them. The next year we had another upgrade to what was actually an apartment on the top floor. This was made up of a very nice bedroom with a modern four poster bed, a hall way with two double wardrobes, a bathroom with a huge bath and separate toilet, then a large sitting room with a balcony off it, overlooking the incredibly pretty lake. We were given this room for three of four more summer stays and thought ourselves blessed rather than simply comfortable. 

Upon our arrival this year we found that we had made it to the top of the preferred clients list it seems. We were greeted like old friends or even family by the mother of the owner family, she gave us the key to the apartment at the other end of the hotel accommodation. We have top floor apartment again and this year it has an entry room, a second hall room, two bedrooms, one with a four poster, there is a cosy sitting room again, a giant bathroom with furniture and separate toilet and the usual balcony. After we had taken all our bags and bikes etc. up to our spacious quarters, we came down to reception to get into the wifi to send a few messages, (upgrades to the hotels still don’t include wifi in all the rooms). Actually that may be the only downfall of our huge apartment; that the wifi does not stretch to the further limits of this honey of a quaint hotel and restaurant. Whilst we sat trying to get the correct code put in to connect, two waiters and several other staff including the groundsman, all stopped their work and came out to greet us. How very nice and homely. 

We went into the restaurant that has tables right on the waters edge, and had a tasty meal including in my case a wiener schnitzel the size of a Yeti foot with Lemon and Redcurrant jelly. Steve had a first course, whilst I sipped my glass of wine but still managed to give me a little help with my one massive dish. My schnitzel had been bashed until it was very tender and thin but even so. Talk about eye’s bigger than tummy’s. Luckily I had not eaten any bread but still definitely no room for dessert. 

I went out on my bike for a little ride this morning and we have taken several swims in the slightly chilly but crystal clear waters of the Wörter See, no wettie needed. Heaven.

 

 

Belties abroad again

 

We had the most interesting journey from our start point in Hells Valley. There was a considerable amount of mountain mist crossing the Black Forest early on but that cleared slowly and we got closer to Lake Konstanz. The first treat of the day was sighting a Zeppelin sailing closer to us as we approached Friedrichshafen. I shouted at Steve to pull in because this was not just an inflatable Zeppelin shaped balloon showing where the local DIY store was and that we should get a few shots of it before it had completely passed. 

I have not loaded today’s photos and I only hope that of the half dozen Steve took with his phone that at least one is useful. We had been working in roughly that area a few months ago and had fun with the phone Sat Nav that pronounced the road we had a delivery for Ze Pellin Strusse, but today we noticed that after we had seen this full sized passenger Zeppelin float by, that almost everything in that area was related. The Graf Zeppelin Hotel then, Zeppelin University and The Zeppelin Museum, the Bräu Stübe Zeppelin and Graf Zeppelin Haus, and so on and so fifth. 

We do and have done an immense amount of driving around Europe and although when we are working we operate the ‘Go the way you know’ rule for the most part. Steve and I are both what we like to call Cartophiles. We both love maps. So when we are on holiday we are free to turn along roads that we have noticed on maps before but not really had time to just drift along to see what they are like. Steve had a route that he wanted to try today and there was no reason to rule it out. We took the turn for the Brenner Pass into Italy from roughly Innsbruck in Austria, then having passed the highest point we looked for a road with the direction shown as Brunica that we had seen was a mountain valley route through to Lienz. The result of that was that it was so spectacularly beautiful that we will have to stitch it in to a holiday sometime soon. There were so many pretty villages and utterly gob-smacking mountain scenes. It was way too a route for us good not to return to sometime. Not that much time to explore today but so glad we conducted an investigation into that area. From the end of that valley with nice views of some of the Dolomites we headed toward Villach and then to our holiday destination of many years; Hotel Sille, in Reifnitz near Klagenfurt in Austria.

Belts abroad again

 

One of today's newspaper story's in Germany features what looks a bit like

 John Cleese doing his ministry of silly walks

This was the third morning in a row I have been up and putting the kettle on at something not long after 4 am. Today it was the get on the road early to be at the tunnel before the traffic had built up too badly. We are on our way to Reifnitz in Austria and plan to take a more scenic route for the rest of the journey that will take us through four different countries.  

We have lots of pretty places that are known to us because of our peripatetic lifestyle and our overnight stop for today is the Hotel Sternen Höfgut, a little way along the road outside of Freiburg. We like the restaurant and it also has a cuckoo clock makers and a glass blowing shop and a huge shop that only sells German souvenir goods. It is quite charming. 

We don’t have an early start planned for tomorrow but I will still wake up early just because I do. We will be finishing the last five hours of our Audible choice for this journey which is Stephen King’s third book in the Mr. Mercedes trilogy. We have hardly spoken a word to each other for the eight hour drive. Spellbound. It is so gripping and we both love having a series of stories where you get to know all the characters. I highly recommend these three truly engrossing books. And a note for the people who S.K. makes a little bit nervous, I can add that it is not a horror story but is a retired cop relentlessly getting to the bottom a hairy story but not a scary story. He is after the crazy crowd killer from the first book. Presented are a group of images that are just police detectives, computer geeks, students and a sprinkling of more unusual people. The second book did not get into anything weird until right at the end but this one gets more and more off the beaten track, without giving much away. I am one of the people that S.K. refers to as his constant readers. There is some content that needs a little mental openess but not totally horrid things. He is such an entertaining writer and has a incredible turn of phrase. It features Will Patterson reading this story, who has such a huge selection of wonderful voices, even his women’s voices are brilliant. Great reader. 

 

 

 

 

 

First Light at the Minerva

First Light at the Minerva Theatre in Chichester 

This will be the last play I attend about World War I

I couldn’t go to a play like this again, no matter how well it is directed and performed.

The Great War is what they called it.

Trench warfare at close range.

Originating in Europe and spreading alarmingly. 

I’d like to say that I enjoyed my evening out last night but that would sadly be far from the truth. It was such a clear reminder of what a dreadful, dreadful war that was. Totally harrowing, I was exhausted with tension by the end which means of course that it was brilliantly performed. 

I loved and Steve hated the slow motion scene changes coming or going ‘Over the top’ with actors carrying chairs tables standard lamps etc. I loved that. I loved the quick march soldiers carrying tables and desks and sometimes dramatically at slow march or dead march.

The executions of the young lad deserters nearly stopped my heart (at the same time switching on my tear ducts.)

My mother was eight years old when she lost her dad in the global spread following this time. He, my granddad died in Palestine whilst serving with the British army. Steve and I have seen many of the huge cemeteries scattered over France and Belgium and a couple of years ago visited Poperinge in West Flanders and stayed in a hotel just yards from the execution post used for dispatching deserters. I am more than a bit flimsy about this. 

Here is the little poem I wrote when I could not sleep early this morning, and after that two from Poperinge in Belgium. 

Mourning Morning 

I don’t know why I woke up so early

Four in the morning just about dawn 

After such a late night for me

I make a coffee and tidy the garden 

Unrelated music running in my head

No sign of sleep not even a yawn 

After a play about World War I

Politicians should beg our pardon 

All those young men led to the slaughter

So many families learned to mourn

 

The Post 

A post, plain iron,

Juts heavenward

From the stone cobbles

In supplication to a deity

Once more offering a son. 

The courtyard is elaborate in style;

Compared to the post. 

Behind the post

A monument;

An image depicting sandbags

Their purpose

To absorb deaths bullets. 

Rising six floors, a narrow round tower

Crowned, church like with an iron finial.

Shamed by the military operation

Performed at the base. 

Bright morning light heralds a new day

Seemingly oblivious

To the figure;

A young soldier

Takes his last breath

Then slumps

At the execution post. 

Shot at dawn.

 

Albert Bottfield 

Twenty eight years old

And found himself at war

Expected to be brave and bold

Midst all the mud and gore. 

Just a private in the army

Huddled fearful in a trench

Explosions driving good men barmy

Trembling held with jaws that clench. 

Terror mounts with each grenade

See good friends ripped apart

Each command must be obeyed

Horror, in his head and heart. 

Another blast, so near this time

Weakening as all valour fades

Endless conflict crouched in grime

Remembered jokes from lost comrades. 

On that early autumn day

As battle raged no end in sight

From his post he ran away

Confused and damaged out of fright. 

Remembering his oath of duty call

Returned from where he fled

A coward held by a prison wall

Shot at dawn, he fell and bled. 

Executed for cowardice. 18^th Oct. 1916 5.50 am

 

Dinner with the Rackham’s

 

 

Last night we squeezed in a family dinner with my daughter and her husband Martin at their home. It’s only a couple of miles away as the crow flies, but the trouble is we are all have such busy lives that fitting in a relaxing evening together is astonishingly hard. They have just returned from a holiday in Scotland that they jollied off to at roughly the same time as we went away on a work trip to France. They got back a couple of evenings ago and now we are off again to Austria where Steve has his big race of the year, his thirty first Ironman which is his tenth in Austria. Add to this that we all have work to get through, and exercise regularly to keep healthy, Jakki and Martin on extensive walks with their little dog Louis and Steve and I with triathlon. 

We had a wonderful evening, not just due to the lovely meal that awaited us but that Jacqueline was eager to show us all the photos she took during her photography week in the South of France, the highlight being a most adventurous session, taking some amazing shots with the mares in their natural wild habitat in the waters of the Camargue. Most people would be freaked out at having a herd of horses galloping directly toward them; can you imagine the noise of a group of horses’s thundering through the water and passing right by you so close that you can smell them, seeing their eyes locking with your own?

She stood in a pair of fisherman type waders as her only protection; no fence or hide, only her strength of will allowed her the most fabulous shots with ears back necks being nipped and mane’s flying as they passed a little woman fearlessly standing her ground. 

She said last night that she wished we could have been there because she knows that we share her love, and admiration of beauty and character of horses. In her stories about this once in a lifetime experience she expressed how thunderstruck she was with even the memories of this time that she will hold in her mind and heart for ever.Jakki is only a slip of a girl, well ok, woman, but she has the fearless soul of a superhero. 

This just sounds like a proud mother I know; except that I know my daughter and she will never back away from a challenge and will fight for what she wants to achieve and will gain whatever she strives for, with sheer guts and determination. I am in awe of her grit and tenacity. Jacqueline still remains every bit a female and one who can be easily hurt, mainly because she expects her friends to be as constant as she is and not everybody can manage to be so true, they simply don’t all have her strength.

 

 

 

 www.jacqueline-rackham-photography.com

 

 

 

Austria

                                   

It’s always a panic getting through the last few days before going on holiday is it not. I have been trying to pack with some sort of system this time. Otherwise due to the fact that we are driving to Austria in our little van, Petra the Peugeot, we just throw everything in, because we know that we can take whatever we like because there is plenty of room. This time will be different. This time I am making a sensible list. Two pairs of trousers, shorts, capris for running, cycle shorts, running shorts, trainers and sandals. Two tee shirts, two shirts each.

That plan lasted a day or so and then we both started just chucking in a few ‘in case of items’. A coat, a cardigan in case of rain, or cold, shorts in case it’s hot. Reading matter; we both have Kindles but I also have the current issue of Mslexia, The Big Issue and a puzzle book (because I have to shut my brain down from its wild ramblings before I can write anything and a quick puzzle does that for me.) We also have our complete tea and coffee making bag and when I say complete that means our own cups and totally different preferences in coffee, my Manuka honey and our own ice cream spoons. Ice cream tastes soooooo much nicer eaten from a silver spoon, I am not kidding with that one. 

This morning we started off in another panic because our postal ballot vote forms had not arrived. I must check on that later and make sure I mention that we asked for postal votes because we are away for the referendum, so them turning up next week is not good. Then I went to Sainsbury’s to get a holiday supply of Jelly Snakes because we Brits know that Haribo is just not the same, although Klagenfurt, does have a whole shop for Gummi Bears of every flavour; A whole shop! Upon my return, I found the postal vote envelopes on the door mat, so that panic was solved at least.  

My friend Helen from across the road has been in this afternoon to trim my hair up for the trip and to chew the fat. She usually does my colour too but although I needed a bit snipped because I am growing it for a while, (it still has to be trimmed) I didn’t need it coloured, since I was ‘Bad’ and had it done when I was in France a while ago. Helen is such a good natured girl friend that she was not even surprised, I am so lucky to have such lovely friends and neighbours. It makes a difference to the world, being able to trust and rely on people. 

My sister and her husband are coming to stay in our house whilst we are away, so they will have a holiday here, away from the darkest depths of the north, while we have a holiday in Austria. I say holiday, but Steve will be doing Ironman Austria for what I think is the tenth time. I will be training, as he works through a rest and relaxation period before the race. He needs that because he has been working really hard the last few weeks and although he is younger than me, he is not twenty one any more, so he needs to recover before his massive challenge of 3800 metres swim, 112 miles bike and a frickin’ marathon run. It’s a long time since I did an Iron distance event and I will just be back up crew for this one, which for some reason is also exhausting. Note to self: Don’t forget to put the inflatable lilo armchair in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time to dream

Obviously this was a senior moment this evening. After washing up the dinner things and having a chat on the phone with my sister, I came back to my work room and sat down to transfer the post that I had written earlier to put on my blog here. Do you think I could find it? I have been through everything so all I can think is that I closed it without saving it. It was just me blathering on a usual about my day, Steve's day in Henley, and our coming plans. It's no great loss and I'm not going to spend the evening looking for it either.

 

Here related below is one of my colourful dreams. What am I like eh? 

Dream No.27 Serpent Coats

 

I was putting away a small sports clothes wash

Having taken them out of the dryer

These are my most used most useful

Light weight sports coats

One is bright blue

The other though pretty similar

Is luminous visi-pink

The both have hoods

I am smoothing them

Ready to fold them in three in the usual way

To them put them away in the cupboard to stay

With other sports kit ready for the next wearing

As I smooth it in my hand toward to hood

It changes as is lies in my hands

And becomes a snake

A very large snake

This is not good

The two colours have blended now

Day glo pink down the centre of its back

And bright blue all along the sides

It grows exponentially as I hold it

Although I am an older lady

I have no fear that it will attack

I still manage to hold this enormous creature

Though it looks like something

That David Attenborough would show

As needing ten strong men to hold

I realise that this is impossible and that it must be a dream

Not just from the obvious weight

But because I am not in the least phased by it

Holding the writhing monster I feel quite bold

And actually find the texture of it pleasant.

I look around wondering where to put it down

And find, just by my side

A crystal stopper the size of a chair

As broad, as wide

As I pull out the stopper

I know that this also would in reality

Be far too heavy for me to hold

Still I lay the stopper to one side

Still holding the head end of the serpent 

Firmly and comfortably under my free arm.

The opening leads into a fantastic crystal compartment

And I lead the snakes head into this space

And it goes in willingly

As is slithers and slides into this place

I see just how enormous the creature now is

Since the crystal container is the size of a large room

And this room is oval shaped

About ten metres long and five metres wide,

But only just high enough for the snake.

This brightly coloured behemoth

Seems perfectly happy moving slowly around

Passing and re-passing

Its own great length and girth,

Over and over again.

I replace the stopper and go downstairs

Though previously there were no stairs

They are but newly found.

Now as I enter the room

I see that the crystal container is the ceiling now

And the serpent gazes benignly down at me

Through the glass don’t ask me how.

I wonder how it can be content

Contained as it is

Even in beautiful crystal surroundings,

I tear my fascinated gaze away

From the writhing effect of the ceiling sent

And see that I am in a beautifully furnished

Spacious thickly carpeted oval room

An oval office;

The Oval Office!

I recognise it from TV

The huge carved desk

The bronze statue of a cowboy on a bucking horse

The portrait of George Washington on the wall I see

The two sumptuous settees’ facing each other

The flags at the bay windows behind the desk

And other fine antiques of course

The POTUS is not present

Nobody is there but me.

I walk around the desk

Trailing my hand over the surface

I feel some of the fine carving

That was hand chiselled by a craftsman

Who worked on the cupboard doors of the desk.

I am absolutely certain

That is the Oval Office.

But then,

I see my very own

Marble Art Deco clock!

It is standing on a sideboard

My examination has quickly shown this

I am totally certain that it is

MY clock.

My brow furrows trying to work out

Why my heavy marble clock

Is on the sideboard

In the office of the President of the United States.

Why I am in the office of Barack Obama

And not arrested!

Alarms ring!

My husband puts his hand gently on my shoulder and say’s

“Time to get up darling”.