All In A Day

07.00

Did the dawn prayer towards the later end of the period allowed, trying to catch up on a bit of sleep. I find that non-Muslims tend to think of prayer times in Islam, if they think of them at all, as absolutely fixed to the specific minute of the day. They are often surprised to discover just how much flexibility there can be. Now up and getting a bit of marking out of the way - nothing terribly onerous, a couple of stray pieces from last week.

08.00

Marking for the day done, I'm just off down to the car to install a new set of CDs. As mentioned last Friday, the mighty Talking Book takes pride of place. I've been persisting with the experiment of putting at least one CD in that's very left-field, serious, demanding, or the like. Recently I tried my 2 CD set of Glass's opera Akhnaten thinking it was bound to work. The surface of the music is hypnotically lovely so I thought I was in for some easy listening during ECP jams. No, it didn't work. Without the operatic context the music just didn't go anywhere except the same place a lot. Must say, I'd loved to see this staged sometime though.

In contrast my disk of Rachmaninov Preludes and Moments musicaux utterly gripped me whenever I played it (given to me as a present by one of the drama guys a couple of years back). There must be some brooding, melancholy, Russian part of my soul of which I'm not yet fully aware. And I thought I could never relate to this repertoire!

This week's off-beat piece is Haitink's version of Vaughn Williams's 8th & 9th, not exactly going out on a limb, but I'll be interested to hear what they sound like in traffic. I tried a Bax symphony a few weeks ago and it just didn't work out. Too much dynamic range, too many highs and lows, to work on the highway.

09.00

Now reading The Sunday Times. Not a terribly rewarding experience, but I'll soon get to the cartoons. So-called Book page reduced to half again. Outstanding.

10.00

Forgot to mention - this is intended as a lazy day. Going nowhere, just fine by me.

11.00

Now breakfasted on cereal and tea. Noi is preparing to go out to do some shopping. I'm committed to cleaning up some of the books & stuff in the front room. (Soon.) Just sort of watched, in an on and off kind of way, Kubrick's Full Metal Jacket, a DVD thereof I picked up on the Medan jaunt - the second to play perfectly. I didn't do it justice, but I rarely do with films. I suppose over the years I've gradually found myself watching the whole thing, and it's obviously a brilliant film, but so strange. In a good way. But a bit beyond me on a lazy Sunday morning.

12.00

The cleaning's really taking off. Why does this sort of thing make me feel good? Bit obsessive really. Even better: cooking smells from the kitchen - Noi is deeply engaged in putting together a mee soto special for this afternoon. Shiok!

13.00

It was touch and go as to whether we tried to get tickets for Sam Mendes's production of The Winter's Tale, in town this week. Today would have been the only real window of opportunity, but it was there. Up to Wednesday it was under active consideration, possibly with me going alone. This was because Noi had already made arrangements for her famous massage lady to come and do the business today and if she'd have had one or two friends round in the afternoon then I might have popped to the matinee. It's got great reviews, and I've a feeling I'll regret not going, but the logistics regarding the massage got more complicated and sort of meant it would have been easier for me to stay at home. And the biggest factor of all is that I spent a fair amount of yesterday involved in things theatrical at work and I was worried about over-dosing.

But yesterday was such a blast, I needn't have been concerned. Great day, great little show - ACSISallsortments for a sort of invited audience of friends, well-wishers & the like. Ferd's concept, and a brilliant one. Let students show you what they can do pretty much off their own bat and you end up floating. I did.

14.00

Yesterday's late night reading before lights out was Coleridge's Dejection: an Ode. Sort of a random thing, but then I realised I don't know it as well as I should. Now I've finished today's stint of cleaning I'm about to revisit.

15.00

Just completed my tax return. Always a relief. It was very confusing after leaving the direct employment of the Ministry of Education here as to what taxes I'd paid to whom for when. The worry is getting clouted with a bill that's going to deeply hurt but which you don't expect. But I think I've avoided that.

16.00

Noi now surrendering herself to the ministrations of the massage lady. Hope she's not suffering too much. (We're talking Malay-style massage here which bears some affinities to going a couple of rounds against a particularly fit, punchy new contender) - but it has its moments of high relaxation to compensate. The main thing is not to cry.

Listening to a couple of Mozart string quartets, as rendered by the Salomon String Quartet. Whatever happened to simple charm and courtesy in music? I saw most of these guys play under Pinnock as part of the English Concert some years ago and they were fabbo then. Great clean sound.

17.00

Tropical storm, just dying. Haze of rain and the world feels washed. Nice to be indoors, admiring.

18.00

Watching more tv today than usual, well DVD stuff on the box, as it were. Just finished the first episode of the BBC's Life On Earth series, the Attenborough one from (good grief!) thirty years ago. I remember its original airing. Essential stuff then, and now, but looks a tad dated, well David does, I suppose. Who cares? This is real magic. Why do people get so interested in the occluded when what is before our eyes is staggering enough in its own terms. My nieces in England bought me this as a Christmas present so it's about time I did the right thing and put it on.

Noi's massage continues. Me soon. Yippee.

19.00

Massage heaven.

20.00

Massage heaven, with brief interruption to do prayer.

21.00

Just phoned Mum and we seem to be making progress on actually getting her new-fangled recorder to record a programme. Hoping for good news when she finally plays it. She's a bit concerned about her weight, which has dropped a bit, but it sounds like she's eating okay within the confines of her draconian diet. As a matter of interest, she certainly appeared to be eating well enough in December when we were around, but I think she likes a lot of the grub Noi dreams up for her.

22.00

With the day drawing to its close, and the perfect mee soto in the old tummy, garnished with a few bergedil to accompany (a sort of potato cutlet thingie) the sense of overwhelming privilege is, well, overwhelming.