pumpkinstrokemarrow

Norton started to misbehave the other week, so I went onto the help page. One of the symptoms was Norton refusing to start up and another was Chrome behaving very oddly. And after a while I elected to talk to an engineer online. After a few minutes - less than say 15 - engineer was indeed online, an engineer with the monika of Balaji V. I assume that it is a fairly big operation as help desks go, running to five Balaji's. Conversation conducted through a pop up conversation window. He offers to take over my PC and get on with it while I watch. This includes rebooting from time to time. All most impressive, but makes one realise what remote bad people might get up to if they get onto one's PC. After about 15 minutes and some kind of a patch to Norton, Norton back on track and Chrome working again. Been fine since, although it may be that the start up disc activity has got worse. But don't keep the sort of records needed to be sure about that - although I dare say a proper geek could tell by peering at the entrails of the PC itself.

Challah from Cheam a differant shape for the second week running, the baker suggesting that it is to do with festivals, which the trusty Filofax, good on these things, confirms. It is usually in a plait shape, which our bread-fearing neighbour explains is because it needs to be broken by hand without the need for a knife, not allowed on the Sabbath. The plait form makes breaking easy. But this does not square with the challah (which Cheam spells cholla) being the shape of a cottage loaf for the last two weeks and nothing like as easy to break up as the plait. One would have thought that on a special Sabbath the need not to use knives would be greater, not lesser, than usual. In any event, the BH is very fond of the stuff. A loaf put out at 1100 will be looking a bit sad by 1300.

Yesterday off to inspect the original of our print of sheep on a cliff by Holman Hunt. A relic of the fad for the Pre-Raphaelites. Mr G. very rapidly finds a handy powerpoint which tells one all about it. Closer inspection of the web site suggests that the site was all about teaching web design and literacy and was nothing to do with art, fine or otherwise. Nor could I find the powerpoint going through the front door at http://www.cwrl.utexas.edu/. Amazing what you can find out there.

Anyway, back at the Tate (the proper one that is, Tate Britain), FIL wanted to give the Turners a go first, so off to the free Turners in the north wing, having been assured that the stock would not have been depleted in favour of the other, paying and probably crowded Turner exhibition just opened in the south wing. In the event, I was not convinced. I found the north wing Turners very mixed, with quite a lot I did not think worth the wall space in a national gallery with a lot of stock in the vaults. But there was some good stuff. Struck by the funeral ships, by a small painting of wheat fields on the downs above Brighton and especially by four paintings from Venice, each around 20 by 40 inches and hung in a row. The real McCoy. I also thought that the man must have had prodigious energy to have painted so much. And a prestigious ego to assume that the nation would be grateful to have hundreds of them bequested. I wonder how many he sold and where they are?

Then off to find the sheep, which we find had just been unhung and sent back to the vaults. Never mind, we'll go and take a peek at some other P-R's. Sadly, the main room for such was awash with a lot of young people spread all over the floor doing something both untidy and noisy. So that was no go. Some sort of publicity event to make art fun for the masses and for youth.

Picnic outside - trying out the cooked ham from Cheam for the first time. Not bad at all with a good flavour, although with the rather dense texture that comes with shrink wrapping. Followed up by an excursion to Apsley House, which the clutch of taxi drivers outside the Tate decided was probably open. Extraordinary place, with much celebration of another couple of big egos, Wellington and Napoleon, whom I learn were born in the same year. Big egos, to my mind, to want to have life size portraits of oneself all over the place. Taken to the length in the case of Napoleon of having a larger than life naked statue of himself as Mars by Canova, now standing at the bottom of the very flashy main staircase in the town house of his nemesis. How the mighty have fallen. One classy painting of a pope by Velazquez and one interesting painting of Napoleon's dodgy sister Pauline by Lefevre. In fact, quite a few decent pictures by this chap. And pots of fancy silverware, a lot of it intended to decorate banqueting tables. Real show-off stuff. Rather gross. But one centrepeice was rather fun: a divorce present from Napoleon to Josephine in the form of an Egyptian flavoured service and a huge long model of an Egyptian temple to use as a table centrepeice. The ticket says she refused the present.

Wound up with a quick visit to the rose gardens at that end of Hyde Park. Must have been good a few weeks ago. Must try and go at the right time next year.

PS some nice flower beds at the Tate. Including some rather good flowers which BIL identified as Cosmos. I had never heard of them before but Mr G. certainly had. Pots of hits. Pots of flowers even.