Beaker

I blame myself for allowing Mrs Gruff to visit the library unaccompanied. She hadn't been gone for very long (the library is about a hundred yards away) when she called to ask me if I wanted a goldfish. Apparently the librarian's staff had found it dumped, in its tank, on the litter bin outside. They were so delighted that we'd taken it that they let Mrs Gruff have the two withdrawn books she was going to buy gratis. It has a mouth like Beaker, from 'The Muppet Show', and is almost the same colour, so we had no difficulty deciding what to call it.

Blue Moon

Three versions of a lovely song:

First Al Bowlly. Each generation thinks that it has discovered dance music, and that it alone is the hip generation, and it comes as something of a shock to realise that one's parents' sneers that one's favourite song was a hit in their day, and in their parents' day, are not without foundation. I've been looking for years for a copy of Al Bowlly singing 'You Couldn't Be Cuter', without success, but Lew Stone's recording of 'Blue Moon' offers an acceptable palliative:




Second, I've always loved Doo Wop and this is one of the best Doo Wop versions of 'Blue Moon' that I've heard:




Finally, I've never been an Elvis fan but he did record some nice songs and most of his early stuff was worth listening to again. This is one of his best, in my layman's opinion:

Woolly Vegetarians

Some of the products of human creativity are works of art and others are just hobbies. I hold my own ideas on what constitutes 'art' (four years at art college do, at least, endow one with some credibility in the eyes of the gullible), and, had I the money, I would enjoy a few hobbies, but I have no real idea of what distinguishes the artist from the hobbyist, though I have no doubt that should the output of a hobbyist be discovered by a pseudo-scientist three thousand years hence it will undoubtedly be attributed to a 'primitive artist' (five years inter-disciplinary study - two at postgraduate level - of the past - at two universities - do, at least, endow one with some credibility in the eyes of the gullible).

Artist or hobbyist? Whether or not, the knitted garden tickled my fancy and I fancy that it won't be too long before someone knits one into a narrow gauge model railway.

Gruff thanks to Crafty McGee for the photograph.

A Thing of Beauty is A Joy Forever

1957 Aston Martin DBR2

1936 Lagonda LG45 Drophead Coupe

Both photographs were copied from this web site.

The Heston Type 5 Racer.

I've always liked the lines of the Napier-Heston Racer. I think it was far more appealing than its contemporary, the Spitfire MkI, though it was intended for a very different purpose, of course. It could easily have been ungainly, especially with its tail wheel faired into the fin and the short rear fuselage, but it uses elements that foreshadow at least two highly successful aircraft of the later war period: The ventral radiator ducts and symmetrical section laminar-flow aerofoils that distinguished the North American Mustang and the raked undercarriage legs of the Hawker Typhoon and Tempest. Despite its rather voluptuous mid-section and consequent chunky 'ankle' it is quite simply stunningly beautiful.

What next?

A telephone call, this morning,from the letting agent who manages Mrs Gruff's flat. The business occupying the ground floor had called complaining of a leak from above (the Gruff 'home') and asking if I could go down to have a look, which I explained it was not at all convenient to do and which would be pointless as I could do nothing about it, there being no taps running etc. etc. I suggested sending a plummer.

He arrived sometime later and eventually attributed the drip downstairs to a leaking radiator valve in the kitchen., caused by Mrs Gruff leaving the filler valve to the central heating system open and the system therefore operating at three times its recommended pressure. I have experience of leaks that result in water finding its way through ceilings and they tend to be rather more obvious than the barely detectable weeping in the kitchen so I doubt the accuracy of his diagnosis.

This flat is in need of almost constant repair and maintenance, attributable to its age and the poor quality of both it's systems and components and the workmanship of those who installed them. Economy is everywhere apparent and my fear is that the excessive pressure in the system may have caused the failure of a joint in an inaccessible location, possibly causing us not just inconvenience but also unwanted expense.

This could not have happened at a worse time.

Ghosts From The Past

I once owned one of these, albeit as a box of bits, which, owing to the circumstances then prevailing, I had eventually to sell, a theme that has recurred more than once since then (other motorcycles may make an appearance here).

The machine is a 1953 Panther 100; a 600cc single cylinder 'sloper' that was reputedly able to climb the wall of a house, with sidecar attached, and pull it down afterwards. Having ridden a pre-war Panther 500 with a three speed box, I believe that it was possible.

Well, After All, It's Only Rubbish, Isn't It?

For some odd reason the microbes who constitute what is, so far, the un-notifiable disease that is the 'blogosphere' (a ridiculous word that is, perhaps, intended to restrict the free expression of self in much the same way that the wholly spurious concept of 'netiquette' was intended to fifteen years ago), have taken to comparing themselves to characters from science fiction. As viruses go, this one seems to be particularly contagious and I offer that as my excuse for indulging myself. My reason for publishing the result is that it wasn't quite what I'd expected and to have denied it would have been cowardly.

So here it is:

Naturally Mrs Gruff, a devoted Tolkien fan (comment deleted) laughed and said, not entirely patronisingly, 'how lovely'. I await angela's comment with interest.

Oliver Postgate

The death of Oliver Postgate has been recorded on a number of blogs but all remember series that were produced 'long after my time'. I remember the first (black and white) series of Ivor The Engine and how magical it was; I was completely transported as an infant and still enjoy watching anything made by Smallfilms, the production company that Mr Postgate founded with Peter Firmin, so much so that I actually own a small stuffed Major Clanger, bought for me as a humorous novelty by Mrs Gruff (a devout Bagpuss aficionado) and now voiceless, his battery long since dead. He sits as a mascot in her Fiat Punto. I have his autobiography somewhere (probably in store in Berwick with all my things), together with a CD-ROM that came with it, and which I cannot play for some reason.

Smallfilms produced civilised entertainment for children that is also a source of delight for adults and many will readily admit to gratitude for the talents of Messrs Firmin and Postgate but one aspect of Mr Postgate's life that I find a little reprehensible is that although he was a conscientious objector during the Second World War, refusing, when he did eventually respond to his call-up, to put on his uniform (thus ensuring that he would be dealt with under civil rather than military law) he was happy to accept the honorary rank, together with the uniform and privileges, of major in the (civilian) corps in which he 'served' in Germany after the surrender. He was the grandson of George Lansbury (and cousin to the actress Angela Lansbury) so it's no surprise that he was able, like so many well-bred or well connected 'socialists' of the time, to acquire for himself the glamour of a uniform with very little, or none, of the risk.

I've always liked those sporty looking Studebakers from the mid fifties and this drawing, by Harry Bradley, looks like a consciously 'retro' late sixties coupé. I'd like one, were it more than a sketch. It isn't an Austin Healey BN2 100M, an MGA or a Jaguar XK120 but it wouldn't look completely out of place outside a thatched, half-timbered pub.

How She Did It (ii)

The Holden EFIJY

I've never been car mad but I do enjoy driving, have strong aesthetic preferences and a lifelong interest in all aspects of design (as well as almost twenty years studying and working in the graphic arts), and this is certainly a car that I would enjoy owning and driving: big, shapely and utterly pointless (one cannot take the dogs out in it and would not do the shopping) other than as a beautiful thing to be driven for the pleasure of driving it.

An Australian Three Wheeler

This is nice: