derrickjknight

Scaffolding East End

Last summer’s rain put an end to the refurbishment of the outside of the house after the west end gable had been completed.

Scaffolding West End

Tony and Cole of Solent Scaffolding had erected the west end scaffolding on 8th July.

Only now has it been possible to pick up the work again on the east end gable. This time Tony’s companion was Matt.

Together this is what they achieved today.

This afternoon I watched the Wimbledon Ladies’ final between Barbora Krejcikova and Jasmine Paolini.

This evening we dined on Southern fried chicken; onion rings; chips; baked beans; and mixed veg.

This is Part One of Book One of The Ring Legends of Scandinavia. “We begin with what promises to be the furthest-reaching, fullest possible version on the human side of the Ring legends. The Saga of the Volsungs stretches from end to end of the story, telling of the two great families: the Volsungs, into which Sigurd is born, and the Gjukungs, into which he marries….. The Saga… was composed by an anonymous author between 1200 and 1270, probably 1260 and almost certainly in Iceland. As such it belongs to the flourishing Icelandic saga culture of the late twelfth and thirteenth centuries.” (Elizabeth Magee)

This version is based on the text edited and translated by R.G. Finch in London 1965.

This story involves myth, magic, superstition, deception, trickery, treachery, love triangles, family history, bloodthirsty conflicts, rivalry, and mystery.

Reminiscent of the death of William Rufus on a deer hunt in England’s New Forest, the tale begins with Bredi’s murder by Sigi, reputed to be a son of Odin. Throughout the saga Odin appears as a “man” with various descriptions and significant actions. Thus reality merges with myth, and magic, as in “….a large pair of stocks was fetched, and at a certain spot in the forest the ten brothers had their legs clamped in, and there they sat all day, and night came on. And at midnight an old she-wolf came out from the forest to where they were sitting in the stocks. She was large and evil-looking. What she did was to bite one of them to death, thereupon devour him, then go away…….on nine consecutive nights the same wolf appeared at midnight, and each time she she killed and ate one of them until all were dead and Sigmund alone remained.” Trickery is employed by Signy, daughter of King Volsung to outwit and destroy the wolf.

“Numerous spears hurtled through the air, and arrows, too, but his norns looked after him, so he remained unscathed….”. “Norns, according to Magee, “are semi-divine female beings who weave the web of fate: past, present and future; the valkyries are Odin’s wish-maidens, who ride through the heavens, sway battles, select those heroes selected for Valhall, and serve the inexhaustible brew of ale to them when they arrive. Some are said to be Odin’s own daughters….”

Most confusing for readers such as me is that names are variable and interchangeable. The Icelandic Sigurd is the German Siegfried. The Sigmund of the above paragraph is the father of Sigurd who also has a son Sigmund. I doubt that I will get my head around all these, although the translation is fluent and very readable, and there is a good glossary of names in the appendices; it is splendid story anyway.

In addition to the fluid prose we have much poetry such as “Gold is now rendered,/ recompense for you,/ much for my head./’Tis not luck will be/ the lot of your son:/ Death to you both it brings.” put in the mouth of Loki, the mischief maker of the gods. Brunhild’s comprehensive advice to Sigurd, beginning “War runes you must know/ if wise you would be. / On sword-guard grave them,/ on hilt sockets, / on hilt’s iron grip, / and twice say Tyr’s name” and continuing with such stanzas as “Speech runes you must know,/ to be spared, if you wish/ repayment of grief rendered./ Wind them about,/ weave them around,/ side by side set them/ there at that Thing/ where throngs shall come,/ all to full session faring”. Tyr is the god of war; Thing is the parliament. Further such advice such as “Watch out for trickery from your friends” is delivered in fluent prose.

As I explained earlier, Simon Brett’s powerful illustrations are given in a block between pages 360 and 361. This is because there is so much overlap in the stories that each engraving could serve more than one part of the book.

Here are today’s offerings which may well be repeated as we progress through the work.

This evening we dined on more of the roast lamb with the addition of mushrooms and fresh vegetables. Neither of us imbibed.

Exercising Her Priority

Soon after lunch today we set out on a forest drive.

A pair of ponies with their foals occupied corner of the bank of Beaulieu River. One rose to its feet and trotted off for a feed.

On our way into Brockenhurst several cattle stretched above a fence to crop garden shrubs; while a photographer examined her mobile phone to investigate the pictures she had produced of two ponies at the crossroads by the bank.

More ponies with their offspring wandered over the moorland at South Weirs. The last of my pictures in this set is of the prone foal lifting its head when startled by the sudden cough of a passing cyclist; Jackie’s are the last five images including the suckling foal and the last image of the pony exercising her right to priority over oncoming vehicles.

When driving home through Lyndhurst Jackie parked the car and photographed donkeys attracting attention on the opposite pavement.

A cow guided her calf across the road outside The Rising Sun, while

around the corner in Tiptoe Road, another mare and foal grazed on the verges.

This evening we dined on roast breast of lamb; boiled new potatoes; firm carrots; and tender green beans with which I finished the Cahors.

Reading And Listening

This afternoon Elizabeth visited for a while wishing me well as she was at a wedding on my birthday.

After this I listened to the Test Match between England and West Indies on BBC News when not reading the introduction to

The first of these images is of the boards, back and front, of my edition; the second the Title Page and Frontispiece by Simon Brett.

Elizabeth Magee has gathered and woven together the array of saga, myth, and legend from the Germanic and Scandinavian peoples drawn on by Wagner in his Ring series. Because of the nature of the collection, involving similar but differently told stories from differing sources, Simon Brett’s powerful illustrations are gathered together in one block.

In Scandinavian mythology Yggdrasil, the frontispiece image, is most significant. “Underlying it is a whole cosmos, a universe created by the interaction of fire and ice and embedded in the great void. Central to the cosmos is the World Tree, Yggdrasil. According to Snorri, the three roots securing it reach down to the underworld Niflheim, out to the frost ogres and up to the sky among the gods and light elves. Its branches spread up to heaven and over the earth. The world is formed of concentric circles, surrounded by sea. Midgard is the home of humankind; rimward are the giants, and right at the hub is Asgard, seat of the gods on earth. Bifrost, the rainbow bridge, brings the gods every day from earth to heaven. Within the earth dwell dwarfs and dark elves.” (Magee)

I will follow the editor’s sections and add the pictures as I work my way through the book.

This evening we dined at The Lazy Lion in Milford on Sea, where I enjoyed fish pie with a minted melange of peas and other green veg followed by a summer fruits créme brulée with which I drank Flack’s Double Drop; Jackie’s choice was sun-dried tomato and pesto with halloumi cheese with which she drank Diet Cola.

A Book Of Spooks And Spectres

This being the second successive day of unrelenting rain I finished reading

published by Methuen Children’s Books Ltd in 1979, of which this is the book jacket.

Manning-Sanders introduces her collection of stories from all over the world by explaining the difference between Spooks who have always been ghostly beings with a king to rule over them and a country of their own; and “Spectres [who] on the other hand have not always been Spectres. They were once creatures of flesh and blood, generally human beings, who after death, find the gates of heaven and hell shut against them, and so must return to earth…” Spooks are generally happy beings, and spectres unhappy ones.

Each piece has been translated into lucid and clear prose in the author’s own language. “Ruth Manning-Sanders [1886-1988] was an English poet and author born in Wales, known for a series of children’s books for which she collected and related fairy tales worldwide. She published over 90 books in her lifetime” (Wikipedia)

Robin Jacques /ˈdʒeɪks/ (27 March 1920 – 18 March 1995) was a British illustratorwhose work was published in more than 100 novels and children’s books. He is notable for his long collaboration with Ruth Manning-Sanders, illustrating many of her collections of fairy tales from all over the world. In much of his work, Jacques employed the stippling technique. (Wikipedia)

Here are the drawings from this book.

I was clearly influenced by such illustrators when I produced the 1981 cover for the Queens Park Family Service Unit Annual Report, and the drawing of Auntie Gwen in 1985 for my Social Work Area Team magazine Age Lines

This evening we dined on Pepperoni Pizza and plentiful fresh salad with which I drank more of the Cahors.

A Rapid Price Increase

A few days ago Becky had spotted a brand new unworn jacket in the Oakhaven Hospice window. She decided it was too good an opportunity to pass up, but wasn’t sure whether it would fit her husband or her father.

We both tried it on. On my birthday yesterday I discovered that I was the lucky one, for it was parcelled up as one of my presents.

It had, however rapidly increased in price.

Since this was another day of incessant rain I spent the afternoon reading a book I should be able to feature tomorrow.

This evening we finished our Royal Takeaway meal from yesterday, with which I drank more of the Cahors.

Peering Animals

I opened a few collected presents for my 82nd birthday this morning, one of which was a bottle of Calvet Cahors Malbec 2021 from Helen and Bill which I opened to accompany the Royal Indian takeaway meal which Jackie collected for our dinner this evening.

This afternoon Shelley and Ron visited bearing more welcome gifts, after which Jackie and I took a forest drive.

The Portmore goats peered at us through their wooden fence;

I photographed the landscape through metal railings at East Boldre

where storm clouds gathered over the fields.

Canada geese and goslings with a few mallards occupied Hatchet Pond.

Back at East Boldre posts and wire along the verges fenced off the woodland beside

field horses peering through their protective fly masks.

The gates to their pasturage threw shadows across the roadside.

Save By The Bees

Our front garden is north facing and only lit diagonally at the beginning or the end of the day.

This morning I focussed on the two trellises supporting Mrs Thompson clematis and the honeysuckle; and the nasturtiums, antirrhinums, violas, and another clematis on the front of the garage door. Fuchsia Delta’s Sarah and the hypericum berries appear beyond the arch, The hydrangea and the rambling rose Félicité Perpétue need to be clipped often in order for drivers to see down the road when departing.

The honeysuckle is doing well this year, although this frontage has, for one reason or another, been rather neglected, save by the bees.

This afternoon I watched those parts of Wimbledon tennis matches that were permitted by the intermittent heavy rain.

This evening we dined on pork chops coated with mustard and brown sugar; fried onions; boiled new potatoes; firm carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli; and tender runner beans, with which I finished the Malbec.

Wuthering Heights

In a comment on her post
Book Review: Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë of 1st July, the excellent reviewer https://bvitelli2002.wordpress.com

knowing full well what the answer was likely to be, asked me whether I had a copy in my library.

I therefore offer

as an accompaniment to Barbara’s review.

As usual images may be enlarged when accessing the gallery. Charles Keeping’s lithographs suit the mood of the book very well.

This afternoon I watched the Wimbledon Tennis men’s match between Carlos Alcaraz and Frances Tiafoe followed by the women’s game between Emma Raducanu and Maria Sakkari. Before the latter match had finished we dined on bowls of rice, noodles, and prawns from bowls on our knees in front of the TV. I drank more Malbec.

At Stockley Enclosure

For what it is worth we voted in the General Election at Milford on Sea Polling Station, although it rather seems as if our crosses won’t make any significant difference to the expected outcome. Nevertheless we decided to do our duty, after which we took a forest drive.

Attracted by a string of ponies on the moorland, we stopped off at

Stockley Enclosure near Brockenhurst, where a sawn trunk spoke to a nearby post alongside a barrier used by one pony as a scratching aid before stepping over to join the others. Behind the derelict trunk blackberry brambles soared aloft.

The verdant verges led to sunlit woodland along Brockenhurst Road.

Roadworks at the crossroads on Southampton Road leading into Lymington held us up enough for me to focus on

a plentiful cascade of hypericum draping a garden fence.

This evening, in order to continue watching the men’s Wimbledon tennis match between Jack Draper and Cameron Norrie, we enjoyed, in bowls on our knees in front of the TV, second helpings of last night’s sausages in red wine meal, with which I drank another glass of the Malbec.