Kind hearts - and waste pipes

Summer is icummin in - and, with it, weddings. No matter where one looks, or who one speaks to, there are weddings to be discussed, planned for, shopped for and to be analysed. In fact, weddings seem to fill the gap after Wimbledon and before the football starts - although quite why I should see it in those terms puzzles me, especially as I loathe both the beautiful game and the other. We have recently returned from a foray to Brighouse - just to the south of Leeds for those like me who knew only of the feted Brighouse and Rastrick Band, without ever having a clue where either might be - for the occasion of Anna and James' wedding. The trip down was a lark, It took some hours longer than imagined to finally leave Linlithgow, the car packed to the gunnels with all of the things we could not live without for a period of 3 days - and a wedding cake. If you ever take it into your head to think of a wedding cake as a gift, take some time to ponder before opening your mouth and uttering. Goodness knows how many miles, in a hot car with a humid ambient atmosphere, and a white chocolate confection to get from A to B unmangled .... We did it, I am delighted to say. Thanks are due to Paul, who no doubt armour plated the cake as never before! A jolly time was had by all.



And we came home to find that the waste pipe from the sink in the dark room has has some kind of quarrel with itself, and water has been pouring into the wall of the cellar. There has been a damp smell for a short time, but this was attributed to the odd odour which can happen when the rain comes from the north, and comes in under the external door. Not this time! Oh no, nothing quite so simple - here we have sodden walls and dank corners. Heigh ho - back to the plumber.

Tempus fugit - on the other hand ....

Since last writing time has been spent under exam conditions, and I am glad to be finished for another year. School exams are a trial for children and parents alike, but I would like to take a short time to enumerate the many ways in which the life of the humble invigilator is impinged upon by this annual period of hair shirt wearing and angst - but I have elected not to. I know when to keep quiet - and besides which, it would be boring.

I will, however, take time to tell you that Elisabet has had a photograph selected and hung in the SSA exhibition in the Vision Building in Dundee. This is a triumph in a number of ways - of course it recognised the quality of the work and is a great boost to the confidence, but it is also represents a miracle of tenacity and determination. Whoever said that arts organisations were difficult to manage spoke from experience, I believe. No matter - I attach a copy of Patience which I hope you will enjoy - Elisabet would like me to tell you that this is a photograph shot with a Leica camera dating from the 1930's, and with no digital enhancement whatsoever.

Expectations

- and the risk involved in the same. It would be rash to assume that, just because I am writing this blog, I have something worthwhile to say. Often I will not, and in many ways today is one of those days on which the inclination to write has struck just as the notion of content has evaporated. So - let us wander along uncharted paths together and see if we arrive anywhere sensible.

The last weeks have been busy - Elisabet has had a photograph accepted in the Royal Scottish Academy Spring Open Exhibition (running at the RSA until May 20th - free, no excuse not to see it!) and today dropped off work at Wasps in Edinburgh for submission to the SSA show in Dundee (May 23 to June 19). The organisation of all of this deserves to have been time tabled and time consuming. However, for a variety of reasons all was completed, for both shows, in record time. I find the outcomes very satisfactory - lets see what the SSA have to say about it all.

For me, the highlight of the last month has been the acquisition of a patch of ground on which to grow vegetables. By patch read some 200 square metres, and vegetables for 2009 will be read to include couch grass and other green things not normally found in a well maintained 'potager'. What the heck, we have to start somewhere and co-conspirator Farmer McPherson has a hearty passion for spuds that is already filling the odd metre or two. I will need to get moving with the peas, beans and courgettes before too much time has passed ...

And now begins the time of the SQA exams, of the impassioned parents and the inexplicably complicated dance of the exam papers and matching answer booklets. All of this will mean very little to those not familiar with the intricacies of the annual exam season, but the month of May arouses mixed passions. An enthusiasm for the outdoor world is paralleled by a requirement to sit indoors for what feels like lifetimes on a tape loop. The passage of days is measured by the reduction in the heaps of papers awaiting distribution, and the speed at which a sense of humour deteriorates! However, it will all end - on June 11 - when the heavens will no doubt open. In an odd way I do enjoy it all, it makes me think in a way I do not often have to these days, and keeps the brain active.

Right now we are in the throes of sorting out March and April's exhibitions, and pulling together a new show to open on Saturday May 2nd - May Blossom. The schedule has been a bit off for a while, but we are back on track and, from the pieces I have seen so far, I am going to like this show.

Time to untangle a chain or two, polish a showcase and move on.

Come to think about it - high expectations in relation to the show are in order! Perhaps I did have something to say after all.

Spring came last Sunday

There was a spark in the air a week ago - Thursday morning, to be exact, at some time before 9 am, when I found myself bounding towards the dentist with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. Odd, to say the least. No matter - I left the dentist's unscathed and the smile remained. On Sunday there I was - in the the freezing garden brushing leaves and mucking out the bird feeding area - and looking about with a speculative eye. There are plans for that there garden, and I was seeing the outcomes in the clear, sharp air as if they had already been achieved. I was also thrilled to see that the snowdrops, many of which had been removed to allow for the construction of the fish pond last summer, had staged a revolution, and that a small clump were flowering in protest at the foot of the wall. In the eternal battle of goldfish versus snowdrop, the latter are coming out fighting.

On the fish front, it is good to see that some of the bolder ones have woken up a little and come out to inspect the policies after the depredations of winter. The golden koi in particular seems to be in training - either that or the water is very cold away from the comfort of the dark corner near the pump, and he has to do his rounds before he stiffens up! There have been two casualities over the cold months - or two that I know about - Donna, the fancy tailed goldfish who had been the star of the whisky barrel pond for some years, gracefully handed in her cards before Christmas, and one of the white scaled goldfish found itself frozen to the surface a couple of weeks ago. It was ailing before then, obviously, but sadly was not able to recover. The sardine, as Elisabet insists on calling it, makes stately progress across the bottom of the pond from time to time, with his retinue of little blue jobs busily in his wake. (And no, just for today I cannot remember the proper name of the blue mottled fish which are his companions, but I will soon!)

And now I have to go into Edinburgh - the daffodils below the Castle must be near to flowering. I shall have a look.