I avoided gardening club, went to Nadfas and to lunch today.
I wasn’t sent the Nadfas programme – something went awry with the post and I didn’t receive the renewal form back in the summer. I know I didn’t because I always pay the sub straight away. I had a phone call in early September to check if I wanted to renew? I paid straight away, but evidently missed the mailing of the programme cards. It doesn’t matter, i can ask for one, but it meant that I didn’t know what the subject of the lecture was on Wednesday, which was about wartime camouflage. Nothing to do with fine art, but an art in itself and the subject was very interesting.
I’ve heard that lecturer before, though not the same lecture. His father was in MI5 and involved in subterfuge, it is clearly something that fascinates him. I’d been trying to remember – I can’t remember why – the name of the woman who was a wartime official photographer, married to an artist – I went to a lecture some years ago by their son. She’d been so traumatised by her experiences, including the relief of Belsen, that she abandoned photography and turned to alcohol and it wasn’t until after her death that the son discovered her history. Anyway, they were mentioned. Lee Miller and Roland Penrose.
The other person I’d thought of recently was Evelyn Dunbar, the official wartime artist. Her paintings of the time were a fascinating record of home life – that is, British life, because factories, munitions and other aspects of life in this country were recorded by her. I’d been thinking of her because her nephew, Chris (long-time bloggers will remember him, though his personal blog was abandoned some years ago because his wife disapproved) still sometimes puts up posts on his blog about her and he posted twice recently. Chris and Jo came to my first blog party, though Jo was defensive, rude to me and obviously didn’t want to be there. A pity as he was charming. Anyway, I digress – the speaker put up some pictures of Evelyn’s that are in the Imperial War Museum, which depicted the manufacture of camouflage nets.
I arrived five minutes before the lecture started, sat near the back and left as soon as it ended. I went to call on Ronan and we had a long chat. And today, I picked up my friend and took her for lunch – that I missed my other friend’s funeral as a consequence has to be less important. Lilian has hardly left her house for months and she was so pleased to see friends again. I managed to miss the turn on the way home and took a detour through Beccles, which was stupid of me. I was heading for her old home.
I’m struggling with two notes on the clarinet and starting to think it may need to be adjusted. I’ll persevere for a bit and then, if I don’t get it right, I’ll have to book it in for a service. There is no obvious reason for me to find it so hard to play these two notes. I might fish out my old clarinet and reassure myself that I can play them on that. If I can’t, it’s me.
Arm still slightly sore, but no other discernible effects from the vaccination. All the same, 9.30 seems to be quite late. I don’t want to go to bed yet, I’ll be awake by midnight. I’ll look for something on a catch-up tv channel to amuse me. I won’t watch anything live in case I accidentally catch a news broadcast and hear something to keep me awake all night. This policy has held me in good stead for over 6 years.