Quark, Strangeness and Charm

I had two very pleasant surprises yesterday; the first was that we were called by Steph to say that she had been contacted by Newcastle University to say they had some returned tickets for that nights lecture by Philip Pullman. The second surprise was just how much I enjoyed the lecture and how much it got the old grey matter working. Not that I had expected the lecture to be a poor one but, as the inaugural Fickling Lecture on Developments in Children’s Literature, I was worried that perhaps it would be little too child friendly. I need not have worried as it took Pullman mere minutes to lose most of the audience aged below thirteen whilst enthralling the rest of us.

His title of ‘Strangeness and Charm’ was taken from his, as he admitted, somewhat limited knowledge of Quantum Physics and expounded his belief that without due care taken of the minutiae of a story there can be no story. He illustrated this with the use of three short passages from a couple of his books to “tease apart the fundamental forces that hold stories together”. He described the use of schema and metaphor to develop a story in which the characters can “live” rather than rattling around in lists of descriptive prose. At least that’s what I think he was getting at.

After the lecture there was a book sale courtesy of Blackwell’s so Gill and I invested in a copy of his latest work ‘The Scarecrow and His Servant’ which the man duly signed for us. Following this a beer was needed so a trip to the Hotspur was undertaken as it was just around the corner. Billy and I helped ourselves to a pint of Warlock Stout from the Houston Brewery whilst Gill had a half of cider and Steph, nursing something of a ‘day after the night before’ problem, had lemonade. The beer was so good that a second round was called for and all thoughts of cooking tea put firmly to the back of my mind. In the end I had a couple of peanuts and a handful of crisps to accompany my very large gin and tonic kindly poured for me by Gill once we made it back home. The rest of the night was spent agreeing with Pullman that once severed from your Daemon the world can seem a cold, empty, lifeless place.

A Fog On The Tyne

So Ok I guess I have left this long enough and can finally get something coherent(ish) down here. It’s strange the tricks your mind can play when it’s dealing with loss, it is almost like being permanently hung over because your mental speed is so greatly reduced. I was going to say that I must be getting over last weeks events but I know they will haunt me in some form or another for the rest of my life but the fog caused by the initial shock is beginning to lift. Gill, Coral and I are learning to live in our now lop sided dynamic and each of us is coming to terms with the change to our family group. Gill and I have an advantage over Coral because we can discuss our loss and support each other through it whilst she wanders the house crying out for her brother to come out from where ever he is hiding. I long to be able to explain to her why he can’t answer her but all we can do is give her as much attention as we can. If ever there was a sound created to tear shreds from your heart it is the sound coming from Coral at the moment.

Today is my first day back at work today but I don’t feel in any way refreshed from my leave. There were several hundred emails waiting for my return many of which need to be actioned and a nice pile of correspondence currently giving me the evil eye for not having opened it yet. I have had to hit the ground running with meetings lectures and patients all booked in for my attention today, at least it has kept my mind active. To be honest I was expecting to walk into a far bigger shit heap than I have and if I keep at things at the rate I maintaining today I should have the backlog cleared by the beginning of next week at the latest.

Speaking of backlogs there is a whole load of stuff I need to put on here over the next week or so, photos of Barcelona anyone?, so I’ll try and fit that in during my lunch breaks.

A Hole In My Heart

Floyd Barron 1994-2005.

I miss you mate.

Green Gives Me The Blues

Well, somewhat unbelievably, England are still able to qualify as group leaders for the World Cup but after the last couple of games I’m not sure we would deserve to. Last night they managed to lose to a Northern Ireland side who, although hard working, were probably markedly inferior in every position on the pitch. The biggest difference was that Northern Ireland were playing a system they were comfortable with and each player was aware of their role within that system, England, on the other hand, looked clueless. For the second game in a row we played a 4-5-1 system that seemed to be played solely to accommodate all our midfield ‘stars’, leaving the lone striker effectively isolated and easily marshalled by the defence. They looked as toothless as Newcastle, which is a tad worrying considering our new £16+M striker was playing.

Chivers Jelly Comes To Mind

Today is my crystal wedding anniversary, Gill and I have now been married for the grand total of fifteen years. I don’t think either of us would argue that some of those years have been the best of our lives, in fact a couple have downright stunk, but the majority have been great and I’m eternally grateful that we’ve managed to put the bad ones behind us. Had I known the amount of pain I would cause and suffer I’m not sure I would have gone through with the ceremony but I’m very pleased I did and even the worst of times have had their positive effects. If this is beginning to sound like an anti marriage rant it’s not meant to, I would heartily recommend the institution to anyone who wants to marry. The most important thing is the wanting to, without that it will never succeed.

We haven’t bought each other gifts this year because of our impending holiday in Barcelona during which I’m sure gifts will be bought and exchanged. Normally Gill would just get me a CD or DVD I’d been harping on about, I’m a man of simple tastes, and I would have gotten Gill a little something or other. This way we can get each other something a little bit out of the ordinary, although there is a great street off the Ramblas full of CD shops...hmmm. We are also forgoing our usual anniversary meal over here to go somewhere a little bit special over there. I don’t have anything in mind but I’m sure the hotel could point us in the right direction or we could fall back on an old favourite such as Pla.

Last night my dad popped around to drop off a card and some wares from his allotment, some very nice tomatoes and shallots. I always leave the card opening to Gill; she thoroughly enjoys that kind of thing, so I popped into the kitchen to put the kettle on. As I saw her pick up the envelope I thought it looked familiar and she burst out laughing once she had opened it. At this point I just knew it would be the very same card I had bought her but had yet to hand over and sure enough it was. I must admit that my parents’ dedication was a lot cleaner than mine and as you can see below I had plenty of scope to go to town on this one.

Both Gill and I have to admit that had we been the models ‘things’ would look much less taut than they do in the image.