Five leftovers make a post
Dec. 29th, 2024 06:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shewhomustI enjoy the cooking with leftovers which follows Christmas: I don't know why people talk as if it was a bad thing. I like the illusion that half the work has been done already; and I like the limitation it imposes (this is what there is - now turn it into a meal). I made the surplus pigs in blankets (actually, I regard that as tautology, but durham_rambler requested them, and this is the season of surplus) into toad-in-the-hole (toads in blankets?) and tonight the last of the ham will go into a mushroom risotto. I have not curried anything (yet).
I can't see any end to the leftover washing up, though. Where did it all come from? (Guests arrive tomorrow, so it must be done).
I have tidied away the last days of the leftover calendar, and replaced it with the Angela Harding one which was my Christmas present from K. This feels premature, but we have enough plans for next week to justify it.
We continue to chew our way slowly through the crossword from the Saturday before Christmas: a minimalist grid into which only the consonants of the solution are to be entered. All of the across clues are the names of the composers, and not further defined. There are no black squares, so you could complete the puzzle by solving only the across or only the down clues; we have done some of each, but even this means that there are places where we have filled in an entire answer without actually knowing what it is. Clever, but not really satisfying.
Finally, a post left over from our visit to London: I threatened a post about the British Museum, and here it is. I knew that there had been many changes since I last visited the British Museum (when was that? probably before the British Library moved out in 1998) and was prepared for the unfamiliar; what I wasn't prepared for was how very familiar other things felt. But to start with the new, here's how the entrance hall looks now:
This reminds me of the remodelled King's Cross Station: full of people rushing about, not sure where they should be but impatient to get there - and nowhere to sit down. Was the Museum always this busy? I remember it as somewhere you could just drop in, and so much to see that only the star exhibits had any sort of crowd. It's still free, but you are encouraged to book tickets, and even having done that, you have to queue (though because I carry a walking stick, I was redirected to a shorter queue, and felt a fraud...). Anyway, we found a map, and established that our target (the Sutton Hoo treasures) was on the top floor, about halfway round. The lift deposited us seamlessly on the third floor, but there was no direct route to our destination: there are no corridors, just galleries. This is no hardship, and we plunged into Mesopotamia:
Perhaps, if I had thought about it, that shock of recognition would not have been such a surprise. Leonard Woolley's books about his excavations at Ur were the probably my introduction to archaeology: his black-and-white photographs of the finds he dubbed 'the Ram caught in a Thicket' and 'the Standard of Ur' coexist in my memory with the objects themselves, and the Museum's careful explanations that these descriptions are more evocative than exact. But I wasn't thinking about it, and was startled by this reminder of my own past. It took me rather longer to recognise the heddress, but that's the picture that came out best...
Round the next corner, though, was something completely unfamiliar, although it has been in the Museum for centuries:
This is the Library of Ahurbanipal, labelled "The first library to contain all knowledge." Isn't it pretty? The link leads to a project to digitise the entire library, Which is obviously an excellent thing, but I am just delighted by the display...
A different combination of familiar/unfamiliar was waiting for us in the Roman galleries, where a cabinet in the centre of the room displayed a selection of the writing tablets from Vindolanda. I see that when I wrote about our most recent visit to Vindolanda I did say that the majority of the tablets were in the BM, but I was still a little disconcered to see them here, so far from home. An attendant hovering nearby was immensely proud of them, and indignant that there were crowds downstairs pressing around the Rosetta stone, and only passing traffic for these much more interesting texts. We made a mental note: "Oh, yes, of course, the Roseeta stone is downstairs," (and later on we paid it a visit) but we were sympathetic, and encouraged him to visit Vindolanda.
By now was more than ready to sit down, and found a free seat, undeterred by the disapproving stare of its neighbour:
Now we had reached the Middle Ages, and here were the finds from Sutton Hoo. The jewelled work is small, intricate and discreetly lit, and you probably get a better view by clicking on the images on the Museum's website. But there's something to be said for seeing the thing itself, and we were glad we had. It was quite ppular, but not far away was an even bigger crowd for the single case contining the Lewis chessmen.
Back downstairs, I found a seat among the massive Assyrian winged lions whiledurham_rambler went to pay his respects to the Elgin marbles. Then it was time to go - but, wondering what had happened to the Reading Room, we discovered that plans were afoot to put it on display, and meanwhile we could look inside. durham_rambler liked the information about past readers, displayed at their preferred desks: I was never grand enough to have a preferred desk, but tried to return each day to the same place, since it meant that I could re-use the previous day's requests for books to be delivered there. And yes, I have tried the famous echo:
And that really was all we had time - and energy - for. We didn't even investigate what looked like another, better, gift shop. Was that where they used to keep Magna Carta? No, looking now at the map, perhaps not. Anyway, it's in the British Library now...
durham_rambler requested them, and this is the season of surplus) into toad-in-the-hole (toads in blankets?) and tonight the last of the ham will go into a mushroom risotto. I have not curried anything (yet).I can't see any end to the leftover washing up, though. Where did it all come from? (Guests arrive tomorrow, so it must be done).
I have tidied away the last days of the leftover calendar, and replaced it with the Angela Harding one which was my Christmas present from K. This feels premature, but we have enough plans for next week to justify it.
We continue to chew our way slowly through the crossword from the Saturday before Christmas: a minimalist grid into which only the consonants of the solution are to be entered. All of the across clues are the names of the composers, and not further defined. There are no black squares, so you could complete the puzzle by solving only the across or only the down clues; we have done some of each, but even this means that there are places where we have filled in an entire answer without actually knowing what it is. Clever, but not really satisfying.
Finally, a post left over from our visit to London: I threatened a post about the British Museum, and here it is. I knew that there had been many changes since I last visited the British Museum (when was that? probably before the British Library moved out in 1998) and was prepared for the unfamiliar; what I wasn't prepared for was how very familiar other things felt. But to start with the new, here's how the entrance hall looks now:
This reminds me of the remodelled King's Cross Station: full of people rushing about, not sure where they should be but impatient to get there - and nowhere to sit down. Was the Museum always this busy? I remember it as somewhere you could just drop in, and so much to see that only the star exhibits had any sort of crowd. It's still free, but you are encouraged to book tickets, and even having done that, you have to queue (though because I carry a walking stick, I was redirected to a shorter queue, and felt a fraud...). Anyway, we found a map, and established that our target (the Sutton Hoo treasures) was on the top floor, about halfway round. The lift deposited us seamlessly on the third floor, but there was no direct route to our destination: there are no corridors, just galleries. This is no hardship, and we plunged into Mesopotamia:
Perhaps, if I had thought about it, that shock of recognition would not have been such a surprise. Leonard Woolley's books about his excavations at Ur were the probably my introduction to archaeology: his black-and-white photographs of the finds he dubbed 'the Ram caught in a Thicket' and 'the Standard of Ur' coexist in my memory with the objects themselves, and the Museum's careful explanations that these descriptions are more evocative than exact. But I wasn't thinking about it, and was startled by this reminder of my own past. It took me rather longer to recognise the heddress, but that's the picture that came out best...
Round the next corner, though, was something completely unfamiliar, although it has been in the Museum for centuries:
This is the Library of Ahurbanipal, labelled "The first library to contain all knowledge." Isn't it pretty? The link leads to a project to digitise the entire library, Which is obviously an excellent thing, but I am just delighted by the display...
A different combination of familiar/unfamiliar was waiting for us in the Roman galleries, where a cabinet in the centre of the room displayed a selection of the writing tablets from Vindolanda. I see that when I wrote about our most recent visit to Vindolanda I did say that the majority of the tablets were in the BM, but I was still a little disconcered to see them here, so far from home. An attendant hovering nearby was immensely proud of them, and indignant that there were crowds downstairs pressing around the Rosetta stone, and only passing traffic for these much more interesting texts. We made a mental note: "Oh, yes, of course, the Roseeta stone is downstairs," (and later on we paid it a visit) but we were sympathetic, and encouraged him to visit Vindolanda.
By now was more than ready to sit down, and found a free seat, undeterred by the disapproving stare of its neighbour:
Now we had reached the Middle Ages, and here were the finds from Sutton Hoo. The jewelled work is small, intricate and discreetly lit, and you probably get a better view by clicking on the images on the Museum's website. But there's something to be said for seeing the thing itself, and we were glad we had. It was quite ppular, but not far away was an even bigger crowd for the single case contining the Lewis chessmen.
Back downstairs, I found a seat among the massive Assyrian winged lions while
durham_rambler went to pay his respects to the Elgin marbles. Then it was time to go - but, wondering what had happened to the Reading Room, we discovered that plans were afoot to put it on display, and meanwhile we could look inside. durham_rambler liked the information about past readers, displayed at their preferred desks: I was never grand enough to have a preferred desk, but tried to return each day to the same place, since it meant that I could re-use the previous day's requests for books to be delivered there. And yes, I have tried the famous echo:And that really was all we had time - and energy - for. We didn't even investigate what looked like another, better, gift shop. Was that where they used to keep Magna Carta? No, looking now at the map, perhaps not. Anyway, it's in the British Library now...
no subject
Date: 2024-12-29 10:30 pm (UTC)I love it. Thank you for sharing it.
no subject
Date: 2024-12-30 12:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-12-30 02:41 am (UTC)It sounds like a lovely day, disapproving statuary stares and all!
no subject
Date: 2024-12-30 12:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-01-01 10:25 am (UTC)It wasn't always this busy. But I'm looking back to over 40 years ago - my father would leave me in the British Museum for the day while he went to work. I remember it being a vastly empty space where (if I stayed away from the Egyptian mummies) I could have entire rooms & galleries to myself.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-02 11:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-01-03 02:36 pm (UTC)London is busier now. More people living there, cheaper air-travel, people coming for a weekend break (from within the UK and from Europe), a lot more tourism from areas such as China & India and the British Museum is on everyone's list. If you're there at opening times on the weekend, the queues will be out the gates and down the road.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-03 05:31 pm (UTC)London certainly *seems* busier, but those are all good reasons why it doesn't just seem it, it's really the case. A useful reminder when I read about destinations complaining of over-tourism, that we are also recipients of more tourism...
no subject
Date: 2025-01-04 10:18 am (UTC)Exactly. I must plan a trip to London before too long - I can get there with a cheap day ticket, and it's quiet(er) in January & February.
And related - I have just realised that when I read Piranesi I was envisaging the British Museum with the lower halls flooded by tide-waters.
no subject
Date: 2025-01-04 04:30 pm (UTC)