pumpkinstrokemarrow

Yesterday, on remarking that I was a bit into nocturnes at the moment, I was informed that nocturnes were not invented by Chopin at all, rather by a contemporary from Dublin who spent most of his professional life in Russia, name of Field. Infant prodigy. I then remembered that I had some vinyl of Field, accidently retained, many years ago, from the Harringey record library. They must have either had a heavy Irish contingent or a heavy budget to have stocked such stuff: the complete piano concertos (i?) of John Field, pianist, 1782-1837. From a gang which calls itself 'Ceirnini Cladarg', complete with a very gaelic address and complete with the rather solemn notes that were the thing in the eighties of the last century. Notes on composer. Notes on concertos. Notes on notist. Notes by Liszt on Field, thoughtfully reproduced in both the original French and English. Notes on John O'Conor. Notes on the New Irish Chamber Orchestra. All that was missing was the perfume advertisements that you get with the concert hall equivalent. But I should not sneer: the notes were quite helpful, not knowing anything about any of it. And they confirm that the man did indeed invent the nocturne and that Chopin did crib from him. I have even listened to one and one half of the concertos.

I did not learn whether he was Catholic or Protestant, but did learn that, on his deathbed, following an early pope (Gregory the something I think) he quipped to the priest: 'Not calvinist but clavecinist' (adjusted slightly for effect).

Having been put right about nocturnes, went to recover among the books in the Tooting Oxfam shop and acquired for £2.99 (marked down from £4.99, original price £25) a copy of 'The secret of Bryn Estyn', in mint condition by one Richard Webster. This was a book which I had marked down for purchase when it was published but had never got around to it until now. The first 100 (out of 700) pages make for a very depressing read. The story is about a huge child abuse scandal in the nineties in North Wales. Two preliminary remarks. First, there was some child abuse. Second, the children involved were difficult and disturbed. They had been put in residential care for good reason. Quite a handful by Surrey standards and not children that I would willingly take on. But the story so far seems to be that a disaffected care worker - an able person who had an interesting family background of her own, who did not get on with her managers and who had been sacked after various warnings and what have you - managed to stir up an enormous scandal out of little more than her own misplaced zeal. The impression so far is that the damage caused by the scandal to the children and to the carers caught up in it, far outweighed any inappropriate behaviour there might have been lurking at the bottom of the whole unhappy story. And the scary thing is that she was able to do this. In the climate of the time, she was able to convince all kinds of great and good that she was right. Newspapers and television did OK though - sadly, with the heavy broadsheets in the lead, not the red tops. Even 'Private Eye' gets a dishonourable mention.

Further depressed by some bad news from Cheam. In the first place, the butcher and the baker will be shut from Christmas Eve until the Monday following. Whatever will we do for fresh food? At least the greengrocer understands our needs and is opening up on Saturday. Amuses me that amid this huge festival of food flannel and food books we are prepared to put up with old meat and stale bread.

And there is worse to come. In the second place and as a result of the dioxin scandal in the other island, supplies of pork have dried up at the pudding factory and neither black or white puddings are to be had. Unless I settle for giant killer black puddings intended for hotels which happen to be made out of English pork.