beside the sea…

I bought a book from our local ‘£5 bookshop’ (‘Beside The Sea – Britain’s Lost Seaside Heritage’ by Sarah Freeman, published in 2015) celebrating what the book describes as “a forgotten time and place in British Life”. It features stories of the most popular destinations – from Brighton and Margate to Scarborough and Blackpool.
It was the Blackpool holiday destination that attracted by interest.
Throughout my childhood (certainly from the mid-1950s to 1966 – with only a couple of exceptions), we had our annual family holiday in Blackpool. My Dad’s family used to holiday in Blackpool every year in the 1940s/50s, so it had been something of a family tradition. Actually, although we did stay in central Blackpool for perhaps 3-4 years in the 1950s (my memory is pretty hazy, so that might not be entirely correct), we ended up in Bispham – just 2 or 3 miles up the coast – where it was much, much quieter and where the beach was empty enough to allow us mark out cricket and football pitches without difficulty!
I think the remarkable/scary Blackpool photograph is probably from the late 1940s/early 1950s – it was never quite as packed for our holidays! It shows men dressed in their suits (complete with collars and ties) and women in thick/elegant coats… deckchairs crammed together and virtually no visible sand/beach!!
My main Blackpool memories include: tram rides; pier shows; the Tower circus (featuring the inimitable Charlie Cairoli); bathing beauty competitions(!); trips to the Pleasure Beach on Friday evenings (before leaving for home the following day); the boating pool (which I understand closed in the early 1970s?); cricket and boating at Stanley Park. In the early years, we travelled up to Blackpool from Brum via Sandwell Coaches (I think we once travelled by train) and I suppose, in the latter years, we might have travelled up by car – but, ridiculously, I can’t actually remember!
It was all so different then…

the horace batchelor memorial pilgrimage…

My lovely brother, Alan, and I decided to walk from Keynsham to Bath for no particular reason other than a) we thought it would make a very nice river walk along the Avon and b) we could chat and put the world to right along the way(!).
And very lovely it proved to be.
Alan (who knows these things) reckons we walked just over 9 miles in total (plus, for me, my one mile walk to Temple Meads station from home!)… or more than 25,000 steps(!?). Thankfully, after the heatwave of the previous few days, the weather was kind to us (19-21degC) – although it absolutely poured down with rain while we were consuming two pints of beer each during our lunchtime stop at The Bird pub in Saltford! We’d spent the morning walking alongside the winding River Avon and then, after lunch, joined the tree-lined ‘Bristol and Bath Railway Path’ (which provided welcome shade) before re-joining the Avon for the final 3 or so miles into Bath. A very enjoyable and beautiful walk… and arriving at our Travelodge hotel (next to the station) at about 4pm.
We wandering into Bath for a couple more celebratory beers (in the garden of ‘The Crystal Palace’ pub – where, once again, we were incredibly lucky to be able to shelter under their enormous garden umbrellas from another absolute downpour!! We went on to have supper at ‘Browns’ – decent food and excellent, friendly service – before slowly making our way back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep.
A brilliant, happy day which will last long in both our memories.
Photo: A collection of images along the way.
PS: For those not old enough to understand, the ‘Horace Batchelor’ reference relates to the Radio Luxemburg advert from the early 1960s that included the famous words: “…Keynsham, that's spelt K E Y N S H A M”! 

celebration day: 26 may...

Today, May Bank Holiday, is apparently ‘Celebration Day’ – a recently-created, dedicated opportunity to honour and celebrate the lasting impact of those who have inspired and shaped us—whether through personal connections, history, or culture—and whose influence continues long after they’ve died.
An opportunity to share stories.
For me, although perhaps there have been times when I didn’t quite acknowledge his influence on my life, that person is probably my father: Ronald Frederick Broadway (1921-1992).
I scribbled this as my ‘Celebration Day’ contribution:
 
I’ve been thinking about my father a lot recently.
I wish I’d known him better.
That we’d had more opportunities
To chat, just the two of us…
Like those days in the 70s in Oxford
In a pub, on a Sunday lunchtime, when he was down to visit.
Yes, we definitely had our different opinions(!),
But they were special times…
And I realise that now.
He died more than 30 years ago.
So much has changed since then.
He’d be delighted and appalled in equal measure.
 
I sometimes imagine us meeting in that pub again
An opportunity for me to tell him
What’s happened since he departed…
That Moira+I still love each other after more than 50 years together
About the amazing women his granddaughters have become,
Since he last saw them in their emerging teens.
Perhaps a chance for them to tell their own stories?
And he’d be so proud to learn about his great-grandchildren
As they make their respective ways into the adult world.
I can see him shaking his head and smiling.
But there’s so much more to tell…
Can I buy you another pint Dad?
 
Photo: My Dad… with his granddaughters Alice, Han+Ru in our back garden in Thame (c.1987/8?) - before Ru’s garden re-design and before I’d re-painted the shed door to look like a cricket scoreboard!
PS: Back in 2011, I wrote a brief blogpost about remembering my father. It’s strange re-reading it today.

the winter’s tale at the tobacco factory…

Moira’s birthday celebrations included seeing Shakespeare’s “The Winter’s Tale” at the Tobacco Factory Theatre last night (Ru joined also us, which was lovely). The other bonus was that ‘our’ Felix was playing the leading role of King Leontes – how on earth are actors able to learn SO many lines?! – and he was superb.
We think we’d previously seen the play at the RSC in Stratford perhaps 30 years ago (long before I began blogging reviews!).
I knew the basic story… jealousy, redemption, the enduring power of love and the cyclical nature of life, as marked by the seasons. The programme notes summed things up perfectly: “Driven by unfounded jealousy, King Leontes accuses his wife Hermione of infidelity, triggering tragic consequences. Years later, through acts of forgiveness, reconciliation, and the miraculous power of time, a chance at renewal and hope emerges. This timeless tale moves seamlessly between tragedy and comedy, offering a rich exploration of human emotion and resilience”.
It's a hugely impressive production (directed by the Tobacco Factory Theatre’s Artistic Director, Heidi Vaughan) and the quality of the actors (every member of the company is based within a 25-mile radius of Bristol) is consistently high.
The Winter’s Tale reminds us that even the harshest winter can give way to the hope of spring, delight of Summer and the tender Autumn of our years (in these crazy Trump-dominated days, I just hope that holds true!).
We really enjoyed it and I would urge you to see it for yourself if you live in the Bristol area (it runs until 29 March).

the songs of joni michell at st george’s…

Joni Mitchell has been my musical idol for over 66 years.
I love her music with a passion and many of the songs take me back to my early college days… but, sadly, I’ve never seen her perform ‘live’ (one of my biggest regrets) – and, clearly, that’s not going to change.
Last November, she celebrated her 80^th birthday and there was a sell-out concert (curated by Lail Arad) given in her honour at London’s Roundhouse… and this led to demands for further shows/UK tour.
Last night’s concert at St George’s was one of the resulting gigs.
Ru first spotted the concert blurb a few months ago and so it was agreed that it would be lovely for our Bristol-based daughters, Ru+Hannah, plus Moira and me to get together for an evening’s musical celebration (they’re lovely like that! xx).

We didn’t know any of the female-dominated line-up (apparently all celebrated singer-songwriters in their own right - Jesca Hoop, Lail Arad, Olivia Chaney, Rachael Dadd and Julia Turner) and so it could have been a very disappointing evening… but, fortunately, it wasn’t. It’s obviously nowhere near the same as seeing Mitchell perform the songs herself, but the evening proved to be an excellent celebration of her iconic music (and St George’s was full).
Lots of musical memories were duly evoked and, fortunately from my perspective, most of my ‘absolute favourite songs’ were performed.
Soft man that I am, I was close to tears when they sang ‘Both Sides Now’ to conclude the show.
A lovely evening.
Photo: Final song performed by all the artists plus members of a local choir.

1,000 paper cranes…

In December 2022, as part of our Golden Wedding Anniversary celebrations, our daughter Ru resolved that she was going to use the coming year to make 1,000 (yes, ONE THOUSAND!) paper cranes on our behalf. According to Japanese tradition/legend(?), such an act can bring a lifetime of happiness or good luck.
People who don’t know Ru might be forgiven for thinking that this was just one of those things people resolve to do… but either just give up or never quite get round to doing. Well, yesterday, Ru delivered her promise (literally)…
We now have 1,000 paper cranes adorning our apartment.
They make a simply stunning, magical sight.
I’ve found the whole experience quite emotional… the time that has gone into this venture; the generosity and love involved; the dedication and determination… and the beauty and size of the final piece.
Quite, quite overwhelming… and very, very lovely.
We are very lucky people. x 
Photo: It’s pretty tricky to photograph 1,000 paper cranes (and impossible to do them justice)… but the attached image provide an impression…

it’s a wonderful life…

Han, Fee, Ursa, Moira and I went along to the Watershed yesterday to see Frank Capra’s iconic 1946 fantasy Christmas film… starring James Stewart (George Bailey) and Donna Reed (Mary Hatch).
It’s a great favourite of mine and I’ve watched it several times (and own the DVD), but never at the cinema… and Hannah, Fee or Ursa hadn’t ever seen it.
You’re probably very familiar with the plot… on Christmas Eve 1945, in Bedford Falls, New York, George Bailey contemplates suicide. The prayers of his family and friends reach Heaven, where guardian angel second class Clarence Odbody is assigned to save George in order to earn his wings…
So starts a series of flashbacks of George’s life… he saves his younger brother from drowning; prevents the local pharmacist from accidentally poisoning a customer's prescription; his ambitions for travel and study are thwarted by his father’s death and so is required to take over the family banking business… he marries; ends up using their honeymoon savings to keep the bank afloat… and, of course, has to fight off a certain Mr Henry Potter who effectively controls the town through devious methods…
I’ll spare you the remaining gory details but, cutting a long story short, Potter steals money from Bailey without Bailey realising; the bank faces scandal and criminal charges… and George Bailey contemplates suicide.
Enter Clarence…
It proved to be a rather wonderful evening: a pretty full-to-capacity cinema; all members of our ‘party’ absolutely loved the film; and, perhaps for only the third time in my experience, the entire audience clapped at the end!
If you’ve never seen it, then I really thinking you need to!
PS: Apparently, at the Glasgow Film Theatre, it’s been the venue’s biggest earner for 12 of the last 15 years!

hockney...

Our family has had something of a passion for Hockney’s art for several years now (eg. #hoctober: Hannah has been posting Hockney-inspired images each October on her social media pages).
So, you won’t be surprised that Moira and I spent Monday evening watching the David Hockney documentary on Sky Arts. It proved to be a rather lovely 90 minutes of television. It was the first in a four-part series - conversations between Hockney and Bragg, filmed over 12 months in both London and at the artist’s Normandy studio, plus archival footage and commentary from distinguished ‘Hockney fans’ allowing a chance to review his work over the past SEVEN decades (he’s now 86 and I think he sold his first painting – of his father – for £10 in 1955)(I wonder where it is now?)*.
Remarkably, he’s had more than 400 exhibitions over the course his lifetime (including 3 solo shows in 2023!) and, of course, he hasn’t finished yet because he shows no sign of slowing down. It was a reminder of the incredibly range of his work – which includes designing stage sets for opera, photography, stained glass, drawings and paintings… using a whole range of different technologies and traditional techniques.
Leaves me a little fazed by just how boring predictable I’ve become in MY old age!
Well worth watching if you can.

* a subsequent documentary revealed that Hockney bought the painting back several years later.

oxford recollections…

Moira and I have just returned from a few days in Oxford, enjoying re-visiting some old haunts from our student days. As you might imagine, the trip brought back lots of memories for both of us…
For me, arriving in the city in September 1967 to begin my studies at Oxford School of Architecture… coming from Handsworth in Birmingham, Oxford was a huge contrast (understatement).
Looking back, I realise just how lucky I was to have been able study away from home and, obviously, in such a beautiful city like Oxford. Exploring new places from scratch, meeting new people, facing new challenges… such as coping financially, dealing with problems, accommodation, food… and, of course, making one’s own mistakes (and sorting them out!).
I feel sorry for those in higher education who don’t have the opportunity to live away from home for a while.
Oxford is clearly a very beautiful, small city – dominated by its University Colleges – but also one in which ‘privilege’ has prevailed (and, perhaps one would say, continues to prevail). Fortunately, I had very little to do with the university… apart from watching cricket in University Parks; attending a May Ball at Exeter College; being present at a number of outdoor theatrical performances in various College grounds; standing along the riverbank watching Eights Week activities; and I vaguely remember attending some disco or other at Queens College.
I got to know my way around Oxford quite quickly – thanks to fellow first year students Steve, Age and JohnTrem (who became lifelong friends). We decided to meet up for a cheap omelette lunch (at an upper floor café on the High Street) every Saturday during the first term before exploring various colleges and their grounds. By our first Christmas in Oxford, we knew the city pretty well.
From the start, I absolutely loved the Cherwell and Thames rivers running through the city… Christchurch Meadow was (and still is) a real favourite place; University Parks; Port Meadow; Shotover Hill; Boars Hill; Osney; Jericho; Botanical Gardens; Magdalen Bridge; Iffley; the ‘Turf’, ‘Trout’ and ‘Perch’ pubs.… so many places.
The punting in the summer (I got to become quite a good punter!)… from Magdalen Bridge or the Cherwell Boathouse up to the Vicky Arms.
You could buy half a pint of mild at the White Hart in Old Headington for 6 pence halfpenny (that’s 6.5d OLD money!) and we regularly used to go drinking at the Turf on a Friday night… and each drink 8 pints @ 2s 6d a pint (spending £ONE POUND in the process!)!
There were few ‘Rag Weeks’ during my time at college… one of which included a 24 hour café and an attempt to ‘Drink the Turf Dry’ (which I endeavoured to do single-handed as I recall… and ending up slumped in a fireplace at the 24 hour café having completely failed to do so).
May Morning was a rather special time… huge crowds gathering below Magdalen Tower at 6am while the choir sang. Crowded streets, Morris Dancers, people jumping off bridges… people queuing for breakfasts (and beer!). Mom and Dad joined Moira and me on one occasion and were absolutely mesmerised by it all (in a good way!).
There was also St Giles Fair… taking over St Giles every Autumn.
Of course, crucially, Oxford was also the place where Moira and I first met (31 October 1969!)… she was studying languages at the Poly.
Sunday afternoon walks with Steve, Bev, Age, Jane, Ted and Val became part of a regular routine… and always finished off with our homemade “Mrs Blenkins’ scones”.
Later, when I worked for The Oxford Architects Partnership (35 Queen Street, 1972-76), the office had a cricket team (of sorts) and we were hugely fortunate to be able to play on various College pitches (after the end of the summer term)… Worcester, New College, University/Corpus Christi.
Moira and I married in 1972 and continued to live Oxford until 1982. We rented places in Oakthorpe Road and Osberton Road, Summertown before buying our first home in Percy Street, off the Iffley Road… and, of course, our three daughters (Ruth, Hannah and Alice) were all born in Oxford.
So, Oxford: a very special place!

'as you like it' at the RSC and my ageing brother…

It’s my lovely brother’s 70^th birthday next month and so, as one of the activities for his ‘Birthday Festival’, we went to the RSC at Stratford to see Shakespeare’s ‘As You Like It’ (directed by Omar Elerian).
Somewhat fittingly (I’ll pretend it was all part of my cunning plan), the current production featured actors who were 70+ years (as well as four young, talented actors at the beginning of their careers) and focussed on age and the ageing process in general… and with lots of humour. Rediscovering the themes of freedom and love from the perspective of older age.
 
This was a somewhat different version of the play: Set in a rehearsal room, the cast are presented as gathering to remember a production they created when young (back in 1978). Reflecting on the memories – both happy and sad – and the wonder of it all. There’s something rather wonderful about acknowledged performers in the ‘later stages’ of their careers being able to demonstrate their undoubted skills and experience while enjoying the camaraderie of the past, while performing roles written for actors 50 years their juniors! It’s all played out with lots of humour – the ‘fight scenes’, for example, being little more than awkward grappling as opponents readily acknowledged that they ‘couldn’t do it anymore’!
The quality of the acting was predictably high and, in particular, I was really impressed with the performances of Geraldine James (Rosalind) and Malcolm Sinclair (Orlando) – and I thought GJ was looking rather wonderful for a 72 year-old! – capturing the innocent of excitement of first love.
The play is also about memories – both happy and sad – the people we love; the things we recall; the things we’ve forgotten; the places we’ve seen; the things we might have done; the things we have achieved; the wonder of it all… and, of course, the things still to come.
But, what about the Forest of Arden? The audience is left with imagining the forest until the very end, when the forest was revealed in all its glory. The only disappointment for me about this dramatic scene was that the cast spoke their words from the very back of the stage AND with their backs to the audience – which made audibility less than ideal (I’m sure I wasn’t the only audience member to think this). Fortunately, this was followed by Rosalind’s rather beautiful adapted epilogue (performed facing the audience!) endorsing love at all ages.
But, as ever for me, what I REALLY love about theatre is the ‘live performance’ of it all… what you’re seeing is a one-off… the excitement, the uncertainty, the promise and the drama of it all.
I REALLY enjoyed this production… an absolute treat.
Photo (copyright RSC): Geraldine James (Rosalind) and Malcolm Sinclair (Orlando).

special day...

Last Thursday, I was privileged to enjoy a rather special day with various family members.
In the morning, I’d caught a train to Birmingham to meet up for lunch with my lovely brother Alan and cousin Barry (at the Old Joint Stock ‘Ale and Pie’ pub). We had a very lovely time catching up on stuff, putting the world to rights(!), comparing ‘old age moans+groans’ and reflecting on all the memories and experiences we’d shared together over the years. Our families were very close during our childhoods and we regularly got together at weekends – for Sunday ‘teas’ (which frequently included a projector and holiday slides!), picnics and games (Sutton Park, Cannock Chase etc) and various sporting encounters (Albion, Villa and keeping quiet when our grandfather Fred was listening to the football results on the wireless and filling in his pools coupon!).
We reflected on how lucky we’d been to have lived in what seems to have been something of a golden age… we hadn’t been asked to fight in any wars; the NHS came into being; university education was free (and, in my case, also came with a full grant); housing had been ‘almost affordable’. It seemed to be the case that every subsequent generation would ‘have it better’ than the last one… but, sadly, that was no longer the case.
It really was a rather wonderful lunchtime (over several beers, of course!) and we laughed an awful lot remembering lots of the silly, embarrassing things we did together.
In the late afternoon, I trained home to Bristol (feeling somewhat relieved that the train was relatively empty, despite the imminent holiday weekend, and that I hadn’t drunk too many beers!) and managed to arrive home by 7pm.
Alice and Dan were down from Lancashire for three days and Ru, Stu, Iris and Rosa were round for supper… and it was a very lovely, relaxed evening (again lots of laughter, playing catch-up etc etc)… and, afterwards, Moira and I reflecting just how ‘grown up’ our grandchildren had become (Dan is now over 6ft tall and Iris+Rosa were both looking rather beautiful!).
It was really great to get together again (Han+Fee+Ursa were away on holiday in Scotland, so weren’t able to join us) and lovely to hear more about the various things they’re all up to. It almost felt like Christmas!
 
Over the past few days, I’ve subsequently found myself reflecting on all that happened last Thursday… a morning spent with people ‘my age’ - looking back - recalling tales from our younger days and reflecting on all that’s happened in our lives… followed by an evening with people of the next two generations (apologies to Moira!) - looking forward - talking about their hopes and dreams (but also about all the challenges that they face – both now and over the coming years).
The sort of very special, privileged day that doesn’t happen very often… and one that I need to cherish and ‘drink from’ over the coming days, months and years.
Photo: Sadly, I don’t have any photographs from our evening gathering (understandably, our grandchildren, in particular, are very protective of their public images!)… so you’ll just have to put up with this one from our morning ‘session’ (featuring Barry, Alan and me in the pub!). 

family…

A large number of the ‘Broadway’ family (perhaps nearly 50 of us in all?) gathered on Saturday to celebrate (somewhat belatedly) my cousin Janet’s 80^th birthday. As you can imagine, it was a pretty special occasion – a gathering of the ‘clan’ and something that Janet, bless her, was determined to organise on the family’s behalf.
For us oldies (cousins), it all goes back to the time of our grandparents Fred (1887-1964) and Rose (1888-1974) Broadway. They lived in Handsworth, Birmingham and had four children (Irene, Olive, Ronald – my Dad - and Laurie). They, in turn (apart from Laurie who lived in Hastings/Jersey and never married - he was gay, but sadly nobody properly acknowledged this within the family until fairly recent times), lived within a very few miles of the old family home and would gather regularly for Saturday afternoon cake/football results, Sunday teas/parties and, of course, Christmases. We were, and continue to be, a very close family – albeit that subsequent offspring are now scattered around the country.
Over recent years, my cousins (Janet, Lyn, Jackie, Barry and Alan) and I have met up for lunchtime meals in Birmingham on a fairly regular basis (although, more recently, these have been limited by Covid/lockdown restrictions).
 
Janet was keen to arrange a ‘full family gathering’ for her birthday celebrations. As we oldies get older, we’ve certainly become aware that such opportunities are likely to be limited to funerals (probably one of us cousins or our own!)! Moira and our daughters Ru, Hannah and Alice (and me!) were all going to attend Janet’s party (somewhat embarrassingly, I’m not a ‘party animal’ and so, frankly, the prospect of travelling up to the Midlands and back by train - none of us Bristolians any longer drive - for a family gathering was somewhat daunting - especially given Moira’s Parkinson’s limitations). Sod’s Law, of course, intervened… Saturday 5 November was a Rail Strike day and our plans were completely scuppered. We chatted it through and I decided that I would endeavour to travel up the previous day (and return home on the Sunday) and the others would regrettably have to make their apologies. In the event, this proved to be a wise decision because my Friday train journey was somewhat chaotic – crowded train and standing room only for much of the journey). Nevertheless, it was very sad knowing that ‘we’ were likely to be the only family group not to be fully represented (and particularly sad for our daughters – as it was one of the rare opportunities for them to meet up with some relatives they’ve rarely met!).
 
Despite my own, somewhat pathetic (and guilty!), reservations, the party proved to be a brilliant success. It really was lovely to catch up with everyone (oh, how we’ve all grown old!), to reminisce and to share stories. It was yet another reminder of the importance of taking the opportunity to ask all those family questions while people are still alive (again and again, we spoke about “I wish I’d have asked XX about YY, but I never did and so we’ll never know”). Happily, there WERE lots of occasions at the party when someone cast light on matters that, for most of us, had previously been forgotten or unknown. A beautiful case in point was when Janet showed Alan and me a package that our father had sent home from Ceylon (according to Janet) in 1941 - he was stationed in India and what became Pakistan with the RAF in the war – to mark the occasion of the family’s first grandchild (Janet). The package included a pair of beautiful, tiny, hand-made sandals and a simple, cotton dress (see photograph). How thoughtful… and how wonderful that they still survive.
 
Seeing people being photographed in their various groups made me acutely aware of the history we’ve all inherited, the people we’ve become and the adventures/possibilities that lie ahead for all of us (but especially the younger members of the family). Reflections on all the changes, such as: two World Wars; the NHS and health technology; the massive differences in education (eg. widespread university experience); transportation advances (eg. space exploration/air travel!); huge developments in technology (eg. the internet, wireless communications) and SO much more. All those hugely different careers that family members have entered into; the relationships; and the new family members.
What started with Fred and Rose when they married in August 1912 has gone on to produce another four generations (and counting!) of family – something like 38 new lives, by my calculations. We’re all so different and yet we all carry that common bond. 

the french dispatch…

Moira and I went to the Watershed this afternoon to see Wes Anderson’s film “The French Dispatch” – a tribute to the New Yorker magazine. It was the first time we’d been to the cinema together since the start of the pandemic (and also only my second visit to the cinema in 19 months).
I absolutely love Wes Anderson films – they’re always a visual delight… and wonderfully inventive, silly, hilarious and hugely entertaining.
This film did not disappoint! I loved it.
It really was an homage to a legendary list of writers and (in the words of The Guardian’s Peter Bradshaw) “a famed insistence on standards, collegiate office culture, distinctive cartoons and typographic layout, metropolitan sophistication targeted at a general American readership”. Frankly, I’d never heard of the magazine, but I warmed to it immediately (and, frankly, it didn’t matter at all anyway).
The film is ridiculously FULL of famous actors… I can imagine actors queuing up just to be considered for any Anderson film.
Visually, I love Anderson’s symmetrical, front-on, backdrop facades and also his colour blends (these also included a number of black+white scenes and also some clever, amusing animation). Half way through the film, I realised that I’d taken the brilliant ‘background music’ completely for granted and so, in the film’s latter stages, I tried my best to focus on it. It really is very beautifully done. So impressively simple and yet so important.
It was lovely to be back in the cinema again and, frankly, if I’d had a free choice of film to watch, it would have been something by Anderson.
I loved it… and it made very happy. 

karine polwart in concert…

I went to see Karine Polwart in concert at St George’s tonight – my first concert for nearly two years. I first saw her at Greenbelt in 2005 and, apparently (according to my blog – which, essentially, I only keep as a memory-jogger!), have now seen her seven times.
It proved to be another wonderful evening. The last time I saw her was in 2018 and at that time I wrote: “Powerful, intelligent, thought-provoking, political, tender, poignant music at its very best. She’s an eloquent poet (and she’s frequently funny too). She’s a person who reminds you that small voices are important. She’s an inspiration.
At this time when so many of us are disenchanted by politics and what’s happening in the world, last night was a wonderful reminder that there ARE decent, inspiring people who demand to be heard.  
May it be so”.
I absolutely love her music and have come to realise over the years that, for me, Polwart is probably second only to Joni Mitchell in my list of favourite singer/songwriters. The evening was a mixture of new and old songs… and I found the older, familiar ones, in particular, very poignant (memory-joggers) and I even found myself feeling quite emotional at times (but, hey, that’s probably just me in my old age!).
The audience clearly loved her and, hopefully, she’ll be back in Bristol again very soon.
PS: The only negative aspect of the evening was that Iris wasn’t able to attend (it would have been her first ‘real’ concert); she’d had her first Covid jab the day before and spent today feeling on the verge of being physically sick and therefore, very reluctantly, decided she couldn’t leave home. Hopefully, we’ll be able to sort out another concert in the foreseeable future.
I was particularly sad about Iris missing the concert because I sense that Polwart – having studied politics and philosophy at university and being a strong advocate for women, the environment, climate change and the like – represents a potential role model for Iris… and we all need good role models in life!
Photo: Karine Polwart in concert tonight at St George’s. 

moving reflections…

I’m sitting on the balcony reading my book, a glass of white wine (I know!) in my hand, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon and I think to myself: how lucky am I?! (A Louis Armstrong song comes to mind!).

It’s just over a week since we moved to the city centre and although it’s been stressful at times (I wouldn’t want to repeat it any time soon!), we’ve been remarkably fortunate that everything has worked out pretty well.
Living in the heart of the city comes with both positives and negatives (and we knew that before we even contemplated moving).

On the negative side: it’s much noisier and I’ve become almost blasé about hearing people making their way home at 3am – and always, it seems, with the volume turned ‘up’… laughing, arguing, shouting or, in one case, growling (a man attempting to perfect his loud growls in the middle of the night – something I personally don’t recall ever doing!). There seems to be strong desire for some motorbikers (always male) to ‘rev up’ furiously for absolutely no reason other than trying to attract people’s stares. Our apartment’s development (there are some 165 units scattered around the site) seems sadly lacking when it comes to recycling – it almost feels as if we’ve slipped back 20 years: there is a line of big rubbish bins in basement, but just differentiated into ‘paper+cardboard’ (mixed) and ‘everything else’… allowance for the recycling of plastic, glass, or tins (I accept that food waste might also be difficult, but absolutely nothing on that front either). I think we might be challenging this state of affairs over the coming weeks! And, of course, we also know we’ll miss our local Southville community and all the independent shops and businesses (but hey, they’re less than 30 minutes away).

But on the positive side, we have the harbour a four minute walk away from our front door; we have access to buses to ‘everywhere’ (with bus stops all within a 5 minute walk); we’re in easy walking access to so many places (Old Vic, RWA, Temple Meads station, Royal Fort Gardens, Queen Square, Watershed, St George’s, Cathedral, College Green, Saint Stephen’s church, Brandon Hill). I love waking up in the very centre of the city and also walking out of the front door and feeling ‘in the heart of the action’ (me? action?!).

Downsizing has been pretty challenging (and continues to be so). Friends, who have also recently moved, have told us that, even though we THOUGHT we’d downsized, we’ll have to continue the process once we’ve moved (and they’re SO right!). Our kitchen at Mount Pleasant Terrace worked brilliantly and so adapting to our ‘new’, smaller version is going to be very difficult (and will take some time to get it ‘right’). Both of our bedrooms are currently stacked around the perimeter with a multitude of large plastic boxes… the living room still has something like 37 boxes of books awaiting a home (ie. but we need to build shelving first!). There are DOZENS of pictures we ‘need’ to get hung. There are walls to re-decorate. Curtains/blinds to be hung. There are electrical alterations needed. There’s a new carpet to be ordered… oh, and a new dining table and armchairs… and additional wardrobe space. I could go on… and on.

In the meantime, we’re constantly wondering where we put things… Which unopened box? Which corner of what cupboard?
But that’s fine… we knew it would be like that. So, when it all gets a little too much, we simply wander out on to the balcony with a glass of wine and turn our backs on the chaos… and also acknowledge how lucky we are to have what we have (and each other).
Photo: view from the balcony looking at the development’s garden area (in the distance). 

goodbye arts trail at number40…

One of the saddest aspects of moving house is the realisation that we’ve held our last SouthBank Arts Trail at number40. We’ve opened up our studio on every arts trail weekend from 2004-2018 (we ‘missed’ the very first one in May 2003, which took place the day we put in an offer for the house!).
Over the years, Moira and I have welcomed the following 40 exhibiting artists (which somehow feels absolutely appropriate for number40!): Paul Brown, Wendy Calder, Jen Orme, Helen Brayshaw, Sharon Bishop, Dave Morgan-Davies, Chitra Merchant, Philippa Royle, Angela Saxbee, Hannah Hickman, Sarah Duncan, Anna Francis, Kay Morgan, Alexandra Higlett, Georgina Hounsome, Lucy Roberts, Tamsie Beith, Ruth Ander, Fay-Darling Peters, Maggie Smith, Martin Lintern, Damian Daly, Lucie Sheridan, Becky Burling, Melanie Wickham, Tessa McDermott, Shirley Smith, Deb Steele, Sally Medlicott, Ian Adams, Heather Newport, Chris Heaton, Nik Kalinowski, Jeremy Smith, Iain Ferns, the Plate-Painting-Lady (who joined us at the eleventh hour for one of our exhibitions, but we can’t remember her name!) plus, of course, the lovely Ruth Broadway, Hannah Broadway, Stuart Low and Felix Hayes.
It proved to be a very popular arts trail venue – so much so that we ended up welcoming over 700 people into our basement over an Arts Trail weekend!
Huge thanks to all those who contributed or visited over the years.
Lots of special memories.
Lots of very good times with lots of very good friends. x
Photos: These are just a very FEW of the photographs taken over the years… fascinating to see the broad scope of work included and also being reminded that our grandchildren have effectively ‘grown up’ over the course of our arts trail involvement!

drinking with my dad on his 100th birthday...

Today is my Dad’s 100^th birthday. He died nearly 30 years ago, in 1992. I’m now older than he was when he died. He was a very good father – even if he and I didn’t see eye-to-eye on a whole range of things (race and politics, in particular – subjects I ended up realising were best avoided). I’ve been thinking of him a lot this week and am very conscious that some of our ‘best times’ were when he and I (just the two of us) were able to chat over a pint (or maybe two!) of beer ‘down the pub’ when we lived in Oxford and Thame.
So, today, I want to try to imagine us meeting up in the pub for a couple of beers (both of us in our 70s??) and chatting/catching up(?) about the important stuff in our lives…
 
There are so many regrets (from my side). My Dad died from lung cancer (within six months of diagnosis). In his last few months, I wanted to talk to him about his life (his memories, the joys, the regrets)… but, sadly, we didn’t get to do this (was that my fault or was it just that it was too difficult for him to actually TALK about such stuff?). We’re very fortunate to have some of his letters/notes expressing thanks to people who’d been important to him and reflections on what he saw as the important things in life (kindness, nature, beauty and a thirst for discovering new things). I had wanted to drive him to places (ideally, just him and me) that he’d loved and for which we both had particular memories (when he was still vaguely fit enough to do so) – like the regular family picnic spot by the river at Aston Cantlow, near Henley-in-Arden, or the Flagpole (or “Tadpole” as younger family members called it!) on Cannock Chase or Llanrhaeadr or Bispham… so many places. But he just wasn’t up for it.
I found the whole experience hugely frustrating and saddening… and it now all feels a bit of blur? Did I try hard enough?
(Looking back, I think I was perhaps trying to prepare MYSELF for grieving him and now feel somewhat guilty that I had tried to press him too much on such matters).
 
My Dad was born in Birmingham and came from a working class background (two older sisters and a younger brother). He was a print compositor and a lovely, kind, gentle man (but actually also quite shy). He married my Mum in March 1948 and I was born in February 1949, so they didn’t have much opportunity to ‘let their hair down’! He was quite an intelligent man who, I think, was very conscious of his working class background. As I grew older, I felt he was almost embarrassed by what he saw as his lack of education (although, of course, he would never have admitted this). Whenever he wrote a letter, they frequently ‘read’ overly-formal/flowery and regularly contained words which weren’t quite used correctly (and he wrote LOTS of letters - of complaint to the Council or of appreciation to Hollywood stars and the like!). He was a strict disciplinarian and could be pretty obstinate at times (surely not something I’ve inherited from him?) and his favourite family saying was: “If I say ‘black’s white’, black’s white”! 
 
But, hey, back to the pub…
There’s so much to talk about. I’m so proud of my family… and so, of course, I want to tell him that Moira and I will be celebrating our 50^th wedding anniversary next year – and how wonderful it’s been to be married to her. I want to tell him about my architectural practice (he knew I’d become a partner in 1979)… and he’d probably be shocked to learn that I’d retired from architecture at the age of 55 (ridiculous!)(and that I went on to work in a school for 6 years supporting and mentoring pupils). I want to tell him about how wonderful his granddaughters (who were 12, 14 and 16 when he died) have ‘turned out’. As someone with an art ‘background’, I know he’d be absolutely thrilled to know that Ru and Hannah have made illustration/design/print/graphics their careers… and, as someone who loved the use of words, he would be thrilled to learn that Alice is a published author (I remember him challenging himself to learn new words/meanings on a daily basis via the ‘Reader’s Digest’)(He was very fond of words - but hardly ever read any books, from what I remember?). I want to tell him about the six great-grandchildren he never met… and about their humour and all the ‘stuff’ in their lives (I can imagine him just smiling and gently shaking his head with pride… and with a ‘who’d have thought?’ expression on his face). I want to tell him we moved to Bristol in 2003. I want to tell how lovely my brother is… and how proud he’d be of him.
 
But, crucially, there are SO many things that I want to ask HIM about. So many questions:
I want to ask him about his relationship with his father. It seemed to me that, although it was good relationship, they weren’t particularly close (or perhaps that’s simply my perception?)(I certainly think he was closer to his mother). I want to ask about his father’s working life and what he knew of his general family background.
I want to ask him about Vittoria Junior School of Arts+Crafts, Birmingham (now Birmingham School of Jewellery). This was my Dad’s school from the age of 13 until (we think) he was apprenticed to Dams and Lock (printers) at the age of 16. The new school had been opened in the (then) factory building at 84 Vittoria Street in 1890 as a school for the jewellery and silverware industry - housing up to 460 boys from the age of twelve and a half years. We don’t really know how or why Dad (as a working class youngster) attended this school. Was it because his father had been a “jewellery worker” (according to the 1911 census)? The Birmingham Jewellery and Silversmiths Association had been keen to set up a school for the industry and so perhaps they had encouraged attendance by boys of their own workers? Presumably he walked (or cycled?) the 2-3miles to school each day?
I want to ask him about his relationship with his siblings. Clearly, his sister Olive was his favourite sibling. It always seemed to me that he was very much in her shadow – she had a much more affluent life-style – big house, car, nice holidays etc. I wanted to know how he felt about his gay brother (when did he realise… or did he?)(I don’t think the subject was ever really mentioned as far as the rest of the family was concerned?).
I want to ask him about his teenage years and adulthood. About growing up in Handsworth; about his time in India during the war; about life after the war (rationing, moving into Westbourne Road, ‘Aunty’ Ella); about his closest friends (did have any ‘close’ friends outside family or people from his RAF days?).
I want to ask him about his working life. Was he happy in his career? Would he have liked to have pursued a different career path? Did he regret leaving Dams+Lock when he did? Other job choices/decisions (eg.not moving to Norfolk in the late 1960s, I think?, when he had a job opportunity to do so). His ridiculous daily routine (when he was at Dams+Lock) of returning home on the bus from town (plus walk, 20 mins), eating his meal (20mins) and busing back into town (20mins) all within his ‘lunch hour’! 
I want to ask him about his happiest/funniest memories. Meeting Mum; family life (or not!); his Ford Anglia; places such as Llanrhaeadr, Blackpool, Llangranog, Australia… and other holidays etc etc? Supporting the Albion (and travelling to many of their away games in later years)(and having two sons who became Villa supporters!). The great times they had in their caravan at the site in Bromyard. Silly things that happened in his life. About the time when he brought home a Yugoslavian man for some lunch (Dad had found him rather lost, confused and hungry near Snow Hill Station and invited back for a meal – and me being introduced to him as a ‘German-speaker’ because German had been on my school timetable for the previous 6 months – needless to say I was of very little help!). About the time he brought home singer Danny Williams (‘Moon River’ UK number 1 record in 1961!) who he’d found outside our local ‘Plaza’ (he was due to appear there that evening, but no one had turned up to let him in!)… and how we chalked his name on the chair he’d sat on!!
I want to ask him if he had any regrets? In an ideal world, would he have delayed having a family for a year or so?
I want to ask him about his lung cancer. I want him to know how frustrated we all were… and how sad those last few months were (for us and, no doubt, for him). If he had his time over again, would he want to do anything differently in those final days (illness permitting)?
 
Oh, and of course, there are one or two ‘other matters’ I think Dad would be interested to hear…

• We have two (or three?) computers in our house.
• There’s this thing called the internet which allows you to ‘access’ information using one’s computer instantly… news, weather, sport, history, politics and lots, lots more (Dad would have absolutely loved the internet!).
• People no longer bother to have ‘land line’ telephones… virtually everyone has their own ‘mobile telephone’ (and their own individual telephone number) which enables them to receive and make calls from anywhere in the world.
• There’s some technology called GPS (Global Positioning System) which can track your location anywhere in the world… people have systems in their cars, their mobile phones and their watches. GPS helps you get where you are going, from point A to point B.
• There’s technology that enables you to get maps on your mobile phone (and in your car!) and which also provides interactive panoramas from positions along streets throughout the world.
• People are now able to speak to AND see their friends/colleagues via their computer/phone screens (anywhere in the world)… at no extra cost.
• There are now driver-less cars (although I’ve not been in one!).
• We have a Climate Crisis which threatens the future of the planet (attributed largely to the increased levels of atmospheric carbon dioxide produced by the use of fossil fuels).
• We’re currently struggling to come to terms with a pandemic virus which has killed some 130,000 people in the UK in the past year (and some 3million deaths worldwide).
• Of course, I could list a multitude of other changes and developments…
• Oh, and the Queen is still on the throne!

SO much to chat about and debate. If we’re not careful, we’d find ourselves discussing the banned subject of politics… oh, and ‘Black Lives Matter’!!
Probably best just to talk about sport… I think it’s his ‘round’!
Photos: Mom and Dad (1947?); Extract (page 15!) from one of Dad’s letters/reflections, written dated 21 February 1992 (5 months before he died); Dad and me (1949).

one year on...

This photograph was taken exactly one year ago today.
Iris and Rosa used to come round for tea/supper on Mondays and Tuesdays and so 17 March 2020 represented quite a watershed moment. It was our last face-to-face mealtime together (mealtimes were always a time of much banter and laughter!) before Moira and I went into self-isolation/lockdown.
For how long would we need to be in lockdown? In due course, the government advised me (as someone who was classified as “clinically extremely vulnerable”) that this situation was likely to last until the end of June. A year on and that photograph STILL represents the last time we gathered together at mealtime.
Rather out of character for me, last March, I started writing a daily diary… and have continued to scribble stuff every day (usually inconsequential rubbish… with the VERY occasional reflective insights!). Looking back to that time, I recall several of the things Moira and I discussed. Like everyone else, we didn’t know what the future held… We were (and continue to be) hugely concerned for the well-being of our family (how would they cope financially/job-wise/health-wise etc?). The sad realisation that it might be several weeks or months (or even years?) before we would be able to hug our family and our friends again… and even the sobering fear that we might have already hugged them for the very last time? Who knew?
Everything was uncertain.
We hadn’t been here before.
One of the most significant things that Moira and I discussed was the awareness that it would be crucial that WE cared for EACH OTHER (in the fullest sense). That might sound a little trite, but it was something we both felt very strongly about. We needed to encourage one another; we needed to ensure that we got plenty of ‘fresh air’ and to walk regularly (we genuinely feared that, at some stage, the government might confine us to our house and garden); we needed to be gentle and kind to each other; we needed laughter and conversation.
Looking back over the last year (and I’m the first to acknowledge that huge uncertainties remain), I think Moira and I have coped really well. We both feel somewhat privileged – we had a roof over our heads; we had space around the house which meant we weren’t ‘in each other’s faces’ all the time; we were both retired – so no job worries; we remained pretty healthy (despite our ageing bodies!); and, crucially, we had each other.
We established various routines… and our chats over our daily morning coffee became really quite important. We’ve always been able to talk to each other freely, but I think we’ve talked to each other much more over the past year (in a good and encouraging way!).
Obviously, we’ve REALLY missed not being able to meet up with the rest of the family (it must be 15 months or so since we were last in Lancashire to see Alice, Dave, Mikes, Dan+Jemima) – although, with Ru, Stu, Iris+Rosa and Hannah, Felix+Ursa all living in Bristol, we have at least been able to see them occasionally in the front of the house or at the harbourside etc. Technology, of course, has been a crucially important substitute (despite its frustrations)… many of us had never even heard of ‘zoom’ before the pandemic!
I definitely feel as if we’ve ‘lost a year’ – our grandchildren are a year older in their young lives and we’ve effectively missed it. This may seem rather ridiculous, but Moira and I both agree that this year has seen us become ‘old’… which feels a little sad. 
Given what has happened over the past twelve months, none of us quite knows what the future holds. Hopefully, the vaccine will provide some stability and ensure proper recovery. Perhaps, over the coming months, we’ll be able to ‘start planning’ again… arranging meet-ups with family and friends; enjoying simple pleasures of meeting up in cafés, restaurants, theatres, cinemas and sports stadiums; and even contemplating holidays!
But I also passionately hope that we do NOT return to ‘how things were before’.
I hope we’ve learnt to respect the environment.
I hope we’ve learnt to respect (and reward) the vast array of workers who undertake all the crucial, ‘small’ jobs that have proved so vital over these past months.
I hope that sufficient resources will be allocated by the government in the connection with mental health and welfare in general.
I hope that we’ve learnt NOT to accept a government who is prepared to ‘reward’ its friends and its financial-backers without accountability.
I hope that we’ve learnt the importance of kindness, respect and fairness.  
Everything is still uncertain.
But perhaps there IS light at the end of tunnel?

Fingers crossed.

new year reflections: december 2020...

I’ve been scribbling New Year reflections on my blog for a number of years now (as always – just a reminder for ME… because I forget stuff so easily!) but, this year has obviously been like no other. Most of us spend our lives – at least to some extent – planning and anticipating events, but this year has made such things impossible. Planning and anticipation has been replaced by worldwide uncertainty (and, for some, tragedy, suffering and fear).
Little did we know, twelve months ago, that 2020 would bring a devastating global pandemic which, for us in the UK, would see more than 70,000 deaths and some 2.3million cases of Covid-19. It was almost unimaginable.
It certainly put everything into perspective… even if it didn’t stop me being massively depressed and frustrated about UK politics, about Brexit, about our response to the Climate Crisis, about greed, about the Haves and the Have-nots, about mental health etc etc. One of the few positives of 2020 (although some might not agree) was that Trump was voted out of office… and the relief felt by SO many people around the world was tangible.
So, for the time being at least, I’m setting aside such matters and concentrating on ‘other stuff’:    
FAMILY AND SIMPLE PLEASURES:
In years gone by, in my annual résumé, I’ve underlined just how important cafés, reading, drawing, photography, walking, cinema and, of course, our grandchildren are VERY important aspects of my life - it’s SO lovely seeing our grandchildren develop in their individual, unique ways (and they ALL make me laugh!!). It goes without saying that our daughters (and their husbands!) are quite, quite brilliant too!
Depressingly, we haven’t been up to Lancashire (or actually seen) Dave, Mikey, Dan+Jemima all year (Alice came down for a very brief ‘working’ visit back in the summer). Fortunately, we have been able to ‘meet up’ with Ruth, Stu, Iris+Rosa and Hannah, Fee+Ursa from time to time (albeit socially-distanced). Depressingly, like so many others around the country, we haven’t been able to hug our family and friends since March (not to be able to hug one’s grandchildren has been especially tough).
Sadly, this year, visits to the café, the cinema and the like also haven’t happened… and I miss such things terribly.
However, I still draw, take photographs and walk virtually every day… and ‘lockdown’ (and being designated as a ‘medically vulnerable’ person!) has resulted in me developing some new routines – daily dawn walks around the harbourside, for example – which I have absolutely loved. Noticing small changes through the seasons… adjusting to the rhythm of a new week/month/season. I ‘created’ a Blurb book (mainly photographs, plus a few sketches and the odd note) of the first six months of ‘lockdown’ (March-September 2020) and have now decided to put together another one from September 2020-March 2021).
I did some pretty basic ‘investigation’ into Moira’s mother’s family history (interesting, but it didn’t reveal she was related to Robert the Bruce or somesuch!).
Moira and I also took the opportunity (via DNAHeritage) to check on our own family ‘roots’. Investigations revealed the following results:
Moira (far more interesting than me): 63.5% Irish, Scottish, Welsh; 18.9% Iberian; 8.5% Scandinavian; 4.7% English; 4.4% Finnish…
Me: English 86.4%; Scandinavian 10.5%; North+Western European 2.1%; Middle Eastern 1.0% (clearly, looking at these results, it’s JUST possible that a) I’m related to Father Christmas or b) Jesus might have been a distant relative…or maybe even both?)!
FRIENDS:
Well, sadly, we’ve met up with very few friends outside Bristol this year (and, indeed, very few even in Bristol)… but we’re very thankful for the technology that has enabled us to continued to stay ‘in touch’ with friends via zoom and social media. I’m pretty hopeless at staying in touch with people by phone (I REALLY don’t like phonecalls!) but, in acknowledgement of the strange situation we found ourselves in, I decided to arrange zoom ‘meet ups’ with old friends (usually one per week) as the next best thing to meeting up over a pint or glass of wine in a bar or pub… and I’ve been doing that since the start of October and it’s been really rather lovely to catch up.
WONDERFUL BOOKS:
You would have thought that a ‘lockdown’ year such as 2020 would have resulted in me reading far more books than usual. Strangely, this didn’t happen. Yes, I’ve continued to read LOTS of books, but rather fewer than last year (74 compared with 94 last year). Some of this has perhaps been due to my changed routines in ‘lockdown’ (eg. I’ve been walking at dawn rather than reading in bed!).
The Storysmith Book Group (run by our lovely local bookshop) has continued to be brilliant - interesting books, lovely people and good fun too (albeit that we’ve had ‘meet’ via zoom)(who knew that technology would become so vitally important in the pandemic!)… and I’ve also been part of the ‘Blokes Books’ bookgroup linked to my local church and involving some great mates (we don’t choose religious books for our zoom get-togethers!). In lockdown, I found myself frequently resorting to books I’ve previously read – probably in the knowledge that they would represent safe, comforting reading options!  As always, I’ve tried to limit the number of highlighted books to ten… and, as always, I’ve failed miserably! Here are 14 of my favourites (in no particular order): 
The Outrun (Amy Liptrot); Black+British (David Olusoga); The Wild Silence (Raynor Winn); Lowborn (Kerry Hudson); The Body (Bill Bryson); The Thursday Murder Club (Richard Osman); All The Light We Cannot See (Anthony Doerr); Girl, Woman, Other (Bernardine Evaristo); A Walk In The Woods (Bill Bryson); Fahrenheit 451 (Ray Bradbury); Rebecca (Daphne Du Maurier); Lockdown (Peter May); Trieste+The Meaning Of Nowhere (Jan Morris); and Waiting For The Last Bus (Richard Holloway).
GREAT FILMS:
As you might imagine, Covid-19 drastically curtailed the number of times (just 7) I went to the cinema this year (my last cinema visit was 11 March). In the circumstances, it seems pointless to list my favourites (but I thought Jojo Rabbit was excellent).
But, in order to compensate for going to the Watershed regularly (and I DID really miss it!), I ended up re-watching most of our old DVDs (it was lovely to be reminded of some really wonderful films) and also lots of films via BBC iPlayer (getting on for 50 of them?!) – which, in the past, I hadn’t bothered to utilise.
LOVELY LIVE PERFORMANCES:
It’s been SO sad not to have been able to go to the theatre, concerts and see exhibitions this year. We’ve really missed it. Here are the few that we did get to experience (depressingly few):
THEATRE:
Romantics Anonymous (Bristol Old Vic).
But we’ve also enjoyed streamed performances (via Bristol Old Vic)… Wise Children; The Grinning Man; Christmas Carol; and Swallows and Amazons.
CONCERTS:
O’Hooley+Tidow (St George’s).
EXHIBITIONS:
Refuge+Renewal: Migration+British Art (RWA); Rembrandt (Ashmolean, Oxford).
SPORTING MOMENTS:
I enjoyed continuing to be a season ticket holder for the Bristol Bears (rugby) – and they did really well this year – finishing third in the Premiership in the 2019/20 season and winning the European Challenge Cup. Obviously Covid-19 greatly restricted the number of games open to spectators from the end of February onwards. In the light of the pandemic, I haven’t renewed my season ticket for the current season – which only started in November (although they had given season ticket-holders access to ‘live streams’, I wasn’t able to take advantage – my phone doesn’t  ‘do’ internet and my laptop doesn’t do Windows10… yes, I know, I’m an old fogey!!).
I didn’t get to see a single football game (frankly, although I continue to follow my beloved Aston Villa, I’m afraid that my love of football has waned and I’m really no longer that interested).
I had been really looking forward to watching a fair amount County cricket this year – especially with now having Somerset and Gloucestershire both in Division One – but, it wasn’t to be… thanks to the coronavirus. I DID manage to get to see a couple of Bedminster CC games (just a 20 minute walk from home) – which was lovely, but definitely didn’t compensate for the ‘real thing’!
Watching sport on TV (when that’s possible) in stadiums completely devoid of spectators seems futile to me.
ART STUFF:
Despite the coronavirus, it’s been another enjoyable, busy year, including:
1. I’ve still very much enjoyed continuing to post a drawing or photograph every day as part of my “One Day Like This” blog (well over 3,000 consecutive days - more than 1,500 drawings and 1,500 photographs - since I started in September 2012, more than 8 years ago). Circumstances have limited the number of times I’ve able to draw ‘on location’, but ‘being adaptable’ has seemed to be the key requirement this year and it’s been fine.
2. The brilliant Drawing Group I joined in 2017 – organised by the lovely, talented artists Charlotte and Alice Pain – continues to bring me pleasure. We used to meet for two hours most Tuesdays in a variety of locations in and around Bristol but, due to the virus, we’ve been limited to sharing our drawings online (good, but not the same… and I definitely miss seeing everyone.
3. Sadly, for the second year running, there was no ‘live’ Arts Trail this year (we’d previously participated for 15 consecutive years). There was an ‘online’ version but, as I wasn’t trying to sell anything, I didn’t think this was appropriate for me. Fingers crossed for next year.   
4. One Week 100 Faces: I participated in this scheme again and duly produced my 100 faces in a week (mixed bag as far as quality was concerned!).
5. Urban Sketchers, Bristol: I’ve continued to really enjoy this wonderful group (which I joined in March 2018)… it’s a worldwide organisation and, here in Bristol, in ‘normal times’, we’d meet up every month and regularly get more than 20 people coming along. This year has proved difficult(!), but we’ve adapted wonderfully well (again, thanks to technology)… and have been ‘meeting’ together in various locations around the world (I know!)… Spain, Portugal, Greece, Columbia, France, Wales and England (to mention just a few) sketching from via Google Streetview and (at the same time) chatting via zoom! It’s been hugely enjoyable and great for people to have been able to keep in touch in these difficult times. It’s very, very enjoyable: we compare notes (and sketchbooks!) and share ideas. I’ve made some lovely new friends and have been ‘roped in’ to be one of the admin people (alongside Jules and Jane) who help run the group. It’s become a real highlight and joy.
6. Blurb book (‘Love in the Time of Covid-19’): I put together a self-published book of photographs (plus a few sketches) covering the first six months of the pandemic.
SOMETHING YET TO BE CREATED:
1. Another Blurb book: I decided to follow up my ‘Love in the Time of Covid-19’ Blurb book with a second volume (‘The Winter’s Tale’) covering the subsequent six months ie. up to March 2021. It’ll be interesting observing the seasonal changes… and, I suspect, it might contain a little more text/comments?
2. There are lots of things I’ve missed due to the pandemic, but I realise that I have sorely missed sketching people (albeit quite badly!)… I would regularly sketch over my lunch at the Watershed before going to watch an afternoon film. I very much hope that I’ll be able to do this again in 2021.
3. I think I’d like to read more about some 19^th and early 20^th century British artists/illustrators (eg. Arthur Ransome; Dod Procter; Aubrey Beardsley; Gerald Leslie Brockhurst; Meredith Frampton; James Cowie and Winifred Knights perhaps?).
4. I want to become a little more ‘experimental’ in my sketching/watercolouring… we’ll see!
5. I’ve loved watching Sky Art’s ‘Portrait Artist of the Year’ and have occasionally followed its ‘Portrait Artist of the Week’ follow-up programme – which provides opportunities to sketch its guest sitter. Maybe I’ll try this more frequently?
HOLIDAYS/LEISURE: 
No holidays at all this year – although we did spend a week on the other side of Bristol (I know!), house- and cat-sitting at Hannah+Fee’s - which was actually very lovely… and a chance to re-visit parts of Bristol we don’t very often get to.
SPIRITUAL LIFE:
We continue to be part of the lovely Community of Saint Stephens, in the heart of the city, and it really does feel like our ‘spiritual home’. A stimulating, reflective community and I love the intimacy and informality of its services and that we can actively contribute to discussions. There are some very special people there and we’re incredibly fortunate to be led by Lee Barnes. This year we’ve been alternating services with our sister church community at Holy Trinity Hotwells and I have to admit to struggling somewhat (the style of service is a little different - less intimate; a little more conventional)… but that’s probably just me. Obviously during the course of 2020, we’ve had to ‘stream’ our services (thank goodness for technology!) – successfully, albeit with a different ‘end product’ (I have to admit that I’ve found streamed church a bit of a ‘turn-off’ personally). My own faith-life journey has felt pretty bleak at times this year (I have lots of ‘wilderness days’!). Seven of us used to ‘meet up’ most Wednesday mornings at 8am at the Society Café on the harbourside (but now via zoom) for “Bloke’s Prayer”… and it’s something which has proved to be hugely rewarding. Regular Tuesday night ‘Resonate’ meetings have also proved interesting. Up until September, I’ve also been ‘chairing’ Saint Stephen’s Re-Ordering Group over the past couple of years – stimulating AND frustrating!

HEALTH:
My health has been pretty good this year… apart from the normal ageing process (although my annual lungs/heart check didn’t actually happen because of the pandemic – I’m due to have another appointment in say March 2021). I’ve been troubled with on-going heel and ankle ulcer issues more or less throughout the year – which are a little debilitating, but manageable. My teeth continue to fall out; my back feels ‘delicate’ most mornings when I first wake (but settles down); my hearing is deteriorating (I have hearing aids, but don’t use them!); I take tablets for my atrial fibrillation; I take eye drops to deter my glaucoma; and I’m pretty sure that my left hip will need replacing over the next year or so!! Strangely (and perhaps significantly?), I feel I’ve become something of an old man this year… but, hey, I feel pretty fit, I’m very active and I continue to walk on a daily basis.
OTHER STUFF:
1. For me, this has been a year of ‘giving up things’… That sounds very negative, I know, but actually it’s felt something of a relief. In September, I stepped down from serving on the PCC of Saint Stephen’s church… and, although I continue to be part of the group of people looking into the practicalities of re-ordering the Grade I Listed Building, I’m no longer chairing it. 

2. I also stepped down from serving as a volunteer with the wonderful B.Friend organisation in May (I’d served my agreed 12 months plus stint… but it also coincided with my own need for self-isolation etc due to Covid-19). Rewarding and humbling work nevertheless.

3. I also ceased volunteering at the YMCA/The Wing (for which I’d done most Thursday evenings for the past couple of years) – helping to prepare food (but mostly washing up!) for some of young people staying there… again, my stepping down coincided with my own limited movements due to Covid-19.

4. We continue to be a no-car household… and use a local car club very occasionally, as we see the ‘need’ (but only three times this year, I think!).

I love reflecting back on the things that have happened over the previous twelve months and, each year, it’s a reminder that there WILL be some very special things that they will happen in the coming year (setting aside pandemics!) – even though, at this moment, I don’t know what the coming year will bring. Clearly, I’m also aware that there will inevitably be some sad stuff too… and perhaps challenges we feel ill-equipped to face. In such times, families and friendships will, once again, see us through.   
For us as a family, it’s been another good year (by and large)… and we continue to count our blessings.
I wish you (and all yours) a very happy, healthy and peaceful 2021… and perhaps a return to some kind of normality would be a huge bonus!
Photo: At Christmas, we usually put together a compilation of photographs of our six grandchildren, taken over the course of the year. This year has obviously been rather different. We haven’t seen Mikey, Dan and Jemima at all during 2020 (other than via zoom)… and our times with Ursa, Rosa and Iris have also been hugely limited. We’ve missed watching them grow, blossom and laugh! xx