bookshelves – derrickjknight

A Good Read

Much of the day was spent continuing with the filling of the bookshelves. By the time we had finished last night we were both under the impression that we hadn’t been out that day. We’d both forgotten the mere four hours spent on the IKEA trip which we had in our minds relegated to the day before.
I can categorically state that we have not left the house today. We made a great deal of progress on the novels, but not as much as we at one time thought. When we completed the Novels M box we thought we were more than half way through this major section. I was somewhat perturbed at the shortage of Is. Surely I had more than one Hammond Innes and another Christopher Isherwood. The task is possibly numbing our brains a bit, so I didn’t persist. I should at least have wondered where John Irving had got to.
So….. With only the two aforementioned Is to separate Harris from Joyce, we continued merrily along through to M. Neither did it occur to us that there should be more Hs. What about Hemingway and Hoban?
Determined not to make the same error (you will by now have realised, as we did, that something was awry) with N, we searched and searched for it. That box remained elusive. What we did find, however, was H to J.

One of the beauties of the Billy bookcases is that the shelves are adjustable, so that different sized books can stand alongside each other in their correct alphabetical order. These can be adjusted as you go along. It is also helpful to leave a few gaps so that when inserting an additional volume or two there is enough room on the shelf without having to move everything along, and consequently risk having to readjust the height of the shelves ad infinitum.
If you have omitted a large section like H to J there is no way you have left enough spaces, so there is more pulling out of studs to lower or raise the laminated chipboard on which to perch the books. This is quite a laborious process, and if you haven’t estimated the space correctly, you have to do it over again. Having gone through this experience once, we had a determined effort to find N. The Novels N box was, of course, in the least accessible spot in a far corner surrounded by Reference, History, Philosophy, etc., etc. I got in and heaved it out.
Have I mentioned that when I first met her Jackie was a librarian? I thought not. Well, she was, and this is proving to be quite useful.
After lunch Jackie researched the Internet and found that the

unknown shrub near the bottle brush trees is a Chinese Lantern Tree or Crinodendron Hookerianum. I updated the relevant post.

We also have a beautiful magenta pieris and and a mature lace cap hydrangea.
Two more discoveries from the treasure trove of Safestore Storage boxes are a photograph and a drawing.

The photograph is a heat-sealed print on board. It is too large for my scanner, so I have here taken the image directly from the August 1971 colour slide. Michael is reading to Jackie and me at 76 Amity Grove.

Two years later I made this quick charcoal sketch of him reading to Matthew.

Late this afternoon Shelly dropped in for a visit and brought a few of the plants and garden ornaments we had left at her home.

Jackie and I dined on fish, chips, and mushy peas, followed by a Post House Mess, the ingredients for which are similar to a Firs Mess.

Twelfth Impression

This morning the building of the last two bookcases was completed.

I managed to unearth the Novels A box and cleared a path to begin placing books on the shelves.

That is when Jackie decided that the column of concrete in the left hand corner offended her eye. Worse than that, she had a half width set of shelves in the kitchen which she was prepared to sacrifice to cover it up.

Oh joy. That meant shifting many more boxes without Matthew’s muscle. The two bookcases Matthew had moved across the room would have to be moved along a foot or so. And he had screwed them together to make the structure more secure. So I had to unscrew them; with Jackie’s help, reposition them and the one from the kitchen; and fasten them up again. That should have done the trick.

But there was now a strip of exposed concrete along the top. As I contemplated filling it with paperbacks before she noticed, she covered it herself with a piece of flooring laminate that had been placed along the windowsill. She had cleaned it up and saved it in case it might come in useful.
Why did I have to choose Superwoman?

After lunch I did get to begin filling shelves with novels whose authors names begin with A to C. In doing so, I found my copy of Daisy Ashford’s ‘The Young Visiters’. On May 22nd 1919, the then thirty seven year old author published, for the first time, the acclaimed masterpiece written when she was nine years old. Such was the work’s amazing success that by July that same year the twelfth impression, one of which is my book, was published. This brilliant description of adults and their behaviour, with uncorrected spelling adding to its charm, has never been out of print.
This evening we dined on Jackie’s superb sausage and bacon casserole (recipe), served with mashed potato and crisp cauliflower and broccoli.

Chinese Boxes

Along the laurel hedge at The Firs there lies a heap of various items that might some day be useful. By the side of that there is a compost heap. There are parts of cemented brick pillars from the former pergola which blew down long ago; pieces of wood in various stages of decomposition; bamboos cut from what is now the hot bed; a picnic table which has seen better days; all bound together by vigorous ivy. Someone had the bright idea of building three compost bins and transferring the heap, layer by layer, to these containers. I decided to build a dry brick wall with removable slats at the front so that the soil can be easily extracted by shovel. Some of these joined layers of bricks are on concrete bases and very heavy. I learned fairly early on that it is not a good idea to attempt this task in sandals if you are apt to roll the layers of bricks over your foot. Don, I could do with your expert advice, guidance, and assistance.

Not having Don’s guidance, I struggled to make the wall stable. Locking the various, mostly cubed, shapes into place, so that any adventurous infant, tempted to climb, would be unable to topple my creation, was proving beyond me. After lunch we sought some advice from the more practical Geoff, and Elizabeth gave me the benefit of her muscle and more mathematical brain. We did enough to make us confident of success over the next day or two.

Whilst this was going on Jackie planted a clematis, lots of spring bulbs, and some violas.

The three year old Sam had demonstrated how children are prone to scale unstable constructions. Before he was born we had, as my readers will know, lived in Soho. Readers of my post of 21st. May will know that the Chinese supermarkets and restaurants in Gerrard Street would habitually put out wooden boxes which had contained various foodstuffs. Some uses of these have been described in that post. Another was the creation of bookshelves. Stacked on top of each other the boxes which may have contained such as jars of ginger, made excellent containers for books. They had the added advantage of saving further packing when we moved. I had no difficulty, when we arrived at Gracedale Road in Furzedown, in locking these variably shaped boxes into place, filling one wall with them, and filling them with reading matter. One day when Dad was visiting us, Sam decided to climb the stack. It wobbled like a house of cards when one too many has been placed on top. Dad, who loved such projects, returned with his tools and screwed each and every box individually to the wall. When we came to sell the house I was a bit apprehensive as to what any potential buyer might make of such a quirky adornment to the front room. In truth I felt that by now it was like a candle in an empty bottle of Mateus Rose. I needn’t have worried. The male buyer said that this was in fact a selling point. He liked the construction so much that, friends told us later, when he and his wife sold the house he claimed to have built it himself.

Next door to Eastern Nights in Thornhill lies The Frying Fish, which is of course a takeaway fish and chip shop. We have often wondered what it is like. Tonight we decide to find out. Elizabeth went off to buy ‘us tea’, which translates as our supper. Although we very soon realised why there is a always a queue there, the service was quick and friendly. Not knowing how the portions worked out, Elizabeth needed advice on the size of the chips portion to choose. For three people with good appetites she was told one small portion would suffice. If uncertain she could have one small and one child’s allocation. That is what she opted for. The woman serving offered to show her the small one and refund the money for the child’s if she decided that was enough. As scoop after scoop were helped into the wrapping paper, It seemed to be enough, and Elizabeth was given some of her money back. Since she had paid by card this was an unusual method of cash-back.

The fish was large, tasty, and perfectly cooked in thin, crusty, batter. The chips were equally crisp and flavoursome. The amount was ridiculous. A large portion of chips in Newark was too much for me to eat. This pile of my favourite potato made that look small. The three of us could not eat them all, and left anyone else’s normal-sized portion in the bag. Elizabeth and I shared a bottle of Prestige de Calvet Bordeaux 2011, whilst Jackie downed Hoegaarden of Belgium, best before 19.6.13.