On a Thursday in early November…

I don’t actually have anything interesting to tell you today, but it’s very quiet in the reading room and I thought that writing something here would be preferable to staring blankly into space (or at my screen). You’d think I could just do some reading, and there are many books here I’d love to get stuck into, but the problem is that when I’m absorbed in a book I don’t see or hear anything going on around me. So, here we are. Continue reading

Easter etc.

So, Easter happened. As usual, we had a busy schedule of choir commitments, to which I added an extra evening by volunteering to masquerade as a chorister on Maundy Thursday. We also invited some friends around for Easter lunch after the two morning services, which meant the usual mad shopping-cleaning-cooking rush on top of everything else – as usual I complained about it all, but of course it was a lot of fun on the day. Continue reading

Caves, country and cooperage

As regular readers of this blog may have guessed, I get terribly anxious if I don’t have at least one trip to look forward to. When we returned from our summer holiday in early July the prospect of five long empty months until Christmas was just too much to bear, but funds were a little stretched.  Thankfully all this long-distance travel is excellent for collecting airmiles and we managed to find some extremely well-timed reward flights to Louisville Kentucky for a long weekend in late October, landing late last Friday evening. Continue reading

Well Met

Today’s random musing has been on the usefulness of context for disambiguation. In thinking about what I was going to write here I was struck by the fact that two of New York’s greatest cultural institutions have the same nickname, yet the occasions upon which this causes confusion seem to be few and far between.

This probably shouldn’t be at all surprising. Over the past couple of weeks we’ve been to both the Met (Museum) and the Met (Opera), to an exhibition entitled Jerusalem and a performance of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde, and I don’t really see how it would be possible to mix up the two (although of course that didn’t stop me double-checking that Tom knew where he was going on each of the two evenings concerned). Continue reading