Oh dear. I got a bit carried away by enthusiasm for today’s lecture and didn’t resist the temptation to quote poetry. At least it wasn’t too well known, so if I made any mistakes it’s not that likely anyone noticed. It was a damn fine lecture about the history of photography, and I do love really old photos. I don’t mean so much the staged ones of the awkward -looking Victorian people being snapped, very slowly, for posterity, but the ones taken by early enthusiasts, many of whom had the artist’s eye as well. There was a very early one by Fox Talbot which I loved – the back of a house with an open shed door and a besom broom leaning against it, and a picture, taken from a low angle, of several flights of worn stone steps, curving and converging, at Wells Cathedral. There was a poignant one of the Valley of Death (sorry to be melodramatic), bare and bleak except for scattered cannonballs, a picture of Abraham Lincoln during the American Civil War, a cheerful Rossini and a pair of Scottish fisher girls from a century and a half ago. Fascinating. I’d love to have them in a book to stare at and study.
Anyhoo, I duly did my speech, all 3 pages of it – yes, I wrote it out verbatim although I didn’t actually read it out, but there were too many people to thank and too many specific things to say, to just do bullet points and hope. Well, so I claim. It was a formalish annual review. Enough excuses.
Afterwards, we took the speaker for lunch, which was a pleasure.
And now, as the sun still shines, I’m going to ride statelily into town to fetch vegetables for dinner. I don’t know what we’re having for dinner yet – doesn’t bother me, I had lunch out. Heh heh.
three-quarters of an hour later Oops! It’s the Sage’s birthday. I’d forgotten. *heads out for the freezer to find something easy to defrost and delicious*.
I took a photo of a worn flight of stairs from low down, last summer. It’s been admired on Flikr. That’s a blog-post sorted for later in the week, then.
Splendid, Dave. I look forward to it. Very fond of roofs, myself, and bricks.
*¾ of an hour later* Do wish the Sage many happy returns from all your readers, won’t you?
You cheapskate, take him out for dinner. You could have cheap skate!
What? After I’ve spent the last half hour constructing a delicious lamb casserole (now simmering gently in the microwave) and picked the first courgettes from the garden?
Hm, I see what you mean. No, he’s a homespun sort of chap, he’ll prefer me to have slaved over a hot stove for him. Besides, the champagne’s already on ice.
You did get him a present, didn’t you?
Yes, actually we celebrated his birthday at the weekend when all the children were here. Not that he’s big on birthdays – and why would he be. Every day is special when Z is here… *cough, cough, cough*
Happy Birthday to Sage!
And a happy birthday from me, too.
Happy Birthday to Sage. And I agree, he needs no other gift beyond that of z!