What I've been reading

The Human Mind
by Robert Winston

"It is the most complex and mysterious object in the universe. Covered by a dull grey membrane, it resembles a gigantic, convoluted fungus. Its inscrutability has captivated scientists, philosophers and artists for centuries. It is, of course, the human brain."

Another one from my bookshelves - I'm sure this was great the first time I read it, but it was published 20 years ago and I imagine quite a bit has changed in the world of neuroscience. The writing now seems pedestrian and I quickly lost interest in the technical terms for the different areas of the brain. I've read quite a few books now about the mind and the brain, and I'm not keeping this one - I've passed it on to a friend already.

Joseph Andrews: The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews and His Friend Mr. Abraham Adams

by Henry Fielding

narrated by Rufus Sewell

"Joseph Andrews refuses Lady Booby's advances, she discharges him, and Joseph and his old tutor Parson Adams set off to visit his sweetheart, Fanny. Along the way, they meet with a series of adventures in which, through their own innocence and honesty, they expose the hypocrisy and affectation of others."

Very good narration, and a road trip like no other, the main theme of which seemed to be that they kept staying at inns and alehouses and forgetting that they had no money, then being surprised when payment was required. It's true that a couple of times they did have money but it was stolen before the time came to pay, but that isn't what I'd call 'innocence and honesty'. A secondary and more distressing theme was that more than once Fanny really seemed to be at serious risk of rape; solo travel was clearly very perilous in the 18th century. Then a classic twist in the last two chapters when they'd finally got home, and all's well and a happy ending.

One of Ours
by Willa Cather

narrated by Kristen Underwood

"Claude Wheeler, the sensitive but aspiring protagonist, has ready access to his family's fortune but refuses to settle for it. Alienated from his uncaring father and pious mother, and rejected by a wife whose only love is missionary work, Claude is an idealist without ideals to cling to. Only when his country enters the Great War does he find the meaning of his life."

She won the Pulitzer Prize for this book, and she really does know how to write,. She describes beautifully the farming setting in the Mid-West and then the lives of American soldiers who went to Europe to fight in the Great War, as well as the French people living in the line of fire. The narrator has trouble with the French words in the book, which distracted me a little, but on the whole it was a fine read.

A Brief History of America
by Jeremy Black

"Discover the shaping forces of American identity, the journey to independence, the conflicts that fractured and made a nation and the rise of a global superpower."

I saw this in the library and thought it would be exactly what I'm after - a newly published overview of the key events in American history from the start of colonisation up to the present day. But it was probably the worst book I can ever remember reading, and I didn't get further than about three chapters before I took it back to the library. The text was so poorly written that I sometimes had to re-read a sentence two or three times to make sense of it, and it lacked any maps and diagrams for anyone not intimately familiar with North American geography. When I realised that we had reached the 1800's with hardly a mention of the American War of Independence, I knew this was not the book for me.

The Best of Me
by David Sedaris

"Sedaris shops for rare taxidermy, hitchhikes with a lady quadriplegic, and spits a lozenge into a fellow traveler's lap. He drowns a mouse in a bucket, struggles to say “give it to me” in five languages, and hand-feeds a carnivorous bird."

The first contact I had with David Sedaris was when, long ago, Sister D gave me one of his books as a present, and I didn't like it because his writing and the topics he chose seemed so cruel. Years later I heard him on the radio reading some of his memoir and diary material and wondered at the difference. Had I been reacting to the gift? because now he seemed much more benign, and funny too. Subsequently I've read and enjoyed many of his books and I listen to his broadcasts whenever they are on, so when I saw it in the library I borrowed this anthology of his 'best work'. It  contains some short fiction as well as memoir, and it is that fiction which is so jarring.

Summer at last

Adhisthana, June 2024

UJ returned from her trip back home late in the evening and I was away to the retreat centre first thing next morning, so we didn't meet. Apart from her outstanding command of English degenerating a little to just being excellent, she seemed to be very well and made supper for me a few days later when I got back. Most of the time, however, we operate separately as she works during the day and barely emerges from her room until late evening and I am usually doing something else by then. We watch TV together by appointment.

I had just two days back home this time between stints at Adhisthana. One of my tasks within this period was to get the car through its MOT, which it managed on the second attempt after failing because of a seized rear brake calliper that also damaged the brake disk. That day also contained my board games group, which I continue to enjoy a great deal. 

The following day I spent with Lola II in Oxford - we had plans for several things to do as well as going to the Weston Library for its latest exhibitions, but we ought to know by now that after we've set aside time for talking there's often little time for anything else. We managed one exhibition, which was about Franz Kafka. I learned that he had a full-time job in insurance and only wrote in his spare time, he never married but was engaged three times (twice to the same woman), and he died in 1924 of consumption, outlived by his parents.

Then back to Adhisthana for my last week, and all of a sudden I had too much work to do, so there are a couple of threads dangling that I might have to deal with from home. Those last three days also included perfect weather, a summer solstice barbeque and a retreat for classical musicians, which led to me finding out that one of the women's community plays the flute. I managed to remember to take my clarinet and a book of duets, and we got together to play one evening.

The end of any service to the Adhisthana community is marked with modest celebration that includes snacks at the morning tea break and a round of 'rejoicing' -  many people gather and anybody can chip in and say something nice about you. I find it difficult to endure the attention, despite all the lovely things that are said. They also gave me presents - I asked for perishables only (nothing that I have to clean or dust), so I got a bar of chocolate, some incense, and a 'voucher' for any Adhisthana retreat in the next year.

So then it was home again in time to prepare for a visit by The Bursar and The Quiet Man. The Bursar was planning to run in the Leamington Spa Half Marathon on Sunday but hadn't done enough preparation, and The Quiet Man is having time off due to injury, so they didn't run but both came to visit anyway. The weather was probably too hot for comfortable running but perfect for showing them the beauty of the town, having an ice cream and sitting in the garden.

On stage again

Somewhere in Devon, June 2023

The excitement of the unexpected gig lessened after a week, and it was time for the summer concert for my clarinet and saxophone groups. The clarinet numbers were very depleted this term for some reason, and the performance was decidedly ropey but we got through it; the saxophones were somewhat better although I was partly liable for the poor performance of the difficult piece that I should have practised. 

But my performance at the unexpected gig had clearly been noted because the soul band were lacking a sax player again, and this time for the best gig of the year - the Kenilworth Lions Club's open air event in Abbey Fields. The soul band has been the closing act for the last two years, and there I was on stage again. I enjoyed it more this time, given that I was not quite sight reading and could pay a bit more attention to what everyone else was doing. And there were three people in the audience that I knew, and it went onto Facebook and more people commented.

A little less fun is the fight that I am having with Thames Water on behalf of mum and dad, who experienced a major water leak in the autumn last year. I have reached the end of the line with the normal helpdesk people and it's time to escalate up a level; I have the feeling that it may take some time to reach a satisfactory resolution.

Then I was back at Adhisthana, the retreat centre, for a five-day stint this time because they asked for an extra two days help in the kitchen. Another new cook to work with, a delightful young man who probably had the least tolerant attitude of anyone I've worked with so far to the aversions and allergies and intolerances and craziness of the people on restricted diets. On this retreat one or two people must have thought that we were professionals paid to cater to their whims rather than volunteers struggling to avoid serious illness in the retreatants.

I'm getting more used to living in the women's community, and joined them informally more than usual - I often have 'business' to do in the evenings catching up with emails and other things going on at home so don't tend to sit chatting in the lounge. It was also useful this week to be able to talk at greater length to a couple of the more experienced women about the path towards Buddhist ordination and also about the experience of living communally with all sorts of different women over the years. I'm very attracted to the simplicity of having few possessions and not being responsible for running a house, but the randomness of the other people I'd have to live with is probably more than I could take.

I'm third from the left!

Sight-reading on stage

Adhisthana, May 2024

I've done two weeks of all sorts of stuff, and I don't like this blog to turn into a diary, so here are just a few highlights. At the retreat centre - the schedule of work I've been given that relies on other people is about two weeks behind already and I don't know when I'll be able to start compiling the information for the print programme of retreats in 2025. Everything that doesn't rely on other people is on time and going well, as I'm sure you'd expect.

I went to the Birmingham Buddhist Centre for two days aimed at those of us who lead or support the teaching of meditation on introductory courses. Only Order Members lead the courses at the Birmingham Centre; in our little local group we don't have any Order Members so we all have to step up and chip in. Both were good days, and I learned a few things that will probably help in future. There are more sessions planned and I'm looking forward to them.

Order Members from Birmingham do sometimes come and lead our group for an evening, and we had such a visitor recently. I usually invite them and the team who support the group to supper beforehand - they get a meal and also less stress of being delayed by traffic. This one was a diagnosed and very sensitive coeliac - no problem, you'd think, to an ex-dietitian. I made a Thai salad with tofu and a potato salad, and it went down very well. We went out to the hall, did the introductions, started the meditation, and it was at that point that my mind suddenly reminded me that there is gluten in soy sauce... He was very gracious and texted me the next day to reassure me that he hadn't suffered. The amount was so small that I was lucky to get away with it.

One of my very oldest friends is someone I met on my first day at school when we were both five years old. His parents live about five minutes walk from mine, and we were in and out of each others' houses quite a bit during our school days when we both lived there. We've kept in touch, on and off, for 54 years, and last week his father died. I attended the funeral, which was held at the Jewish cemetery next door to the one mum took me to (where she wants to be buried, or scattered, or whatever). I discovered that the prayers are etched into my mind after all those years of synagogue attendance in my youth. And, as usual, someone at the event knew my mother.

My music group is still going, although this term for some reason the clarinet group barely has enough people to cover all the parts. The sax group is better attended, but still not as many people as usual. Anyway, I was recruited into this group by a friend from badminton who plays baritone sax with me, but he also plays trombone in a soul band. He recruited the chap who leads the music group into the soul band when they were running short in the horn section. And this week the band had a local gig but were short of a person to play trumpet or sax.

So with no notice at all I joined them on stage and sight-read the tenor sax part! It was tremendous fun but extremely tiring - I'd already played for 3 hours in the music group in the afternoon, and we were still playing encores at 11.30pm. I shouldn't complain, the audience was terrific, they even gave me some money, but then there was all the clearing up and I didn't get home until well after midnight. My sleep pattern was thoroughly messed up for the next two days, but it was worth it.