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Uproarious!

Two hot days in a row were all the excuse I needed to sit in a cool spot and read. Consequently, I’ve just finished this brilliant, entertaining and educative book by a 27 year-old historian. I had thought of skimming through it quickly, but it was so engaging that I read every word – sometimes more than once! The author would like to rescue the once famous (infamous?) visual satirists (mainly Gillray, Rowlandson and Cruikshank) from Victorian censorship – Prince Albert burnt many he found in the royal collection. She claims that they were such an influence in their time that they likely changed the course of history. As the cover illustration shows, they caricatured political figures, here showing PM William Pitt and Napoleon Bonaparte carving up the globe – you could substitute them for Trump and Putin.

People would crowd to the bow windows of the printmakers (here, the shop of Hannah Humphrey) to see the latest cartoons – often in the hope (or dread) that they might feature in the caricatures themselves – and to buy some to add to their collections.

While portraitists and painters may have been held in higher esteem, the satirists were generally formally trained in those skills too. This image shows the contrast between the two forms: one an idealised portrait of a celebrated singer, while the caricaturist brings her down to earth.

I am amused by this send-up of a fashion trend in muslin dresses better suited to warmer climes than the English weather.

And here’s a Georgian traffic jam in London. I’ve included text again so you can appreciate the author’s very readable writing style.

Many of the caricatures are of brutal scenes, particularly of the French Revolution, which shocked the public and, despite general disapproval of George III and more so of his profligate heir, may have put people off trying the same thing at home.

Here’s a bit about the author, with a caricature of the Prince of Wales (later George IV) by Gillray below.

Cicada sings

A cicada was in full voice in the kowhai tree beside the house. To me, the sound represents the end of summer when the days are often still and hot. The cicada was low enough on the tree to get a close photo. I discovered that it has interesting markings. It is probably a Chorus Cicada.

Felix, however, trying to sleep, seemed to become increasingly irritated by the loud noise. At first he was relaxed, stretched out on the warm deck, then his ears twitched back and forth and he opened his eyes. Next minute, he was up the tree. The noise stopped abruptly. As far as I can tell he didn’t catch the cicada, it flew off (I hope) to annoy someone else’s cat.

A walk in the park

With doubtful weather this morning, we decided to walk in the park instead of on the beach. The town has been buzzing the last few days with the Electric Avenue music event in the park on Friday and Saturday. Over the fence, we could see how beautifully presented the venue was.

To match the weather, we walked through the Water Garden and remarked on the autumn colours – surely it’s not autumn yet?!

The Arts Centre provided the consolation of hot drinks at Frances Nation – with a delightful swan on the top of my flat white. Across the road at a craft market, we marvelled at the dextrous work of the stall holder who specialises in miniatures.

While the heavens did not open, as we feared they might – there was just a light drizzle from time to time – we enjoyed all there was to see in the Gardens (highlight: the Curator’s Garden) and the Arts Centre (notable: the new Arts Centre Shop). And we still managed our usual number of Sunday walk steps: over 6,000.

Happy children

An exhibition at Tūranga for Chinese New Year includes a large painting entitled Happy Guanzhong Kids.

It reminds me of village scenes and children playing which I saw in China in the late 1980s. Here, the scenes are tidied up, stylised and compressed into one picture, like a Bruegel painting. I enjoy looking at the details. It is charming.

Shelter in a storm

When it started to rain I went to cover the egg chair, but it was occupied. Felix remained on it as the rain intensified and thunder rumbled. He was still there when the storm had passed and after I had spent a couple of hours solving the sudden loss of internet. It’s unusual for him to be on the egg chair, possibly because it moves. It’s my ‘therapy’ place – perhaps he feels its comfort too.

Later, he came inside for a treat before heading outside. I checked to see if he’d gone back to the egg chair, but he was staring over the side of the deck at this little chap (or chap-ess).

We’ve seen a hedgehog about in the early morning or late afternoon on the patio, on the drive, and disappearing under the deck. Perhaps it lives there.

Birdbath upset

When I drew the curtains this morning, I saw this:

A few blackbirds were hopping about, bamboozled by the lack of ablutions this morning. Perhaps an albatross landed on it in the night. Or a flock of seagulls. Or, perhaps a dodo bumbled out of the bushes and pushed it with its strong beak.

Felix is saying nothing.

I re-glued and repositioned the top of the birdbath, noting gaps between the saucer and the pedestal. I’ve used a glue which has proved successful in fixing terracotta pots and it seems to be expanding to fill the spaces. The water is not level, but the birds – and insects – may appreciate a deep end and a shallow end.

A beach day

Nearly every Sunday is a beach day for my friend and me, but on this particularly hot day thousands were there: toddlers with cute hats and buckets and spades, older kids body boarding or training for surf patrol, adults carrying beach gear and setting up shade tents, a couple on a tandem, many swimmers, and lots of people with their dogs.

And there was me, wearing my legionnaire’s hat (or mullet hat as my nephew calls it) for the first time after suffering sunburn to my neck while at Wānaka. My friend wore her sensible wide-brimmed hat, with matching top. We were impressed by one little girl’s outfit; her tutu, sandals, and hair tie were all the same shade of lilac.

Ginger scones with rhubarb

While I was in Wānaka, texts would go round suggesting coffee at 10 am at Edgewater. This was the perfect opportunity to order the famous ginger scones with rhubarb jam. There are other flavours, but this is the favourite.

This morning I had a go at recreating the experience.

Nice, but lacking the conversation and banter and, of course, the lake view.

A great place to live

A Quality of Life survey has found that Christchurch Ōtautahi is a great place to live, according to this morning’s Press. It is certainly interesting and there’s always something going on. I enjoyed the things I noticed today. In the library, Tūranga, part of the stairs to the first floor was being used as a working space, with colourful cushions to make it inviting.

In Victoria Square preparations are being made for Chinese New Year celebrations.

The other startling observation today, was Felix at the top of a tall cabbage tree. He settled in a forked branch and proceeded to chase his tail. He could have been an act in the recent buskers’ festival.

Home again

Fallen cabbage tree leaves, long grass, flowers that need dead-heading, and ripening tomatoes, courgettes growing, beans beans beans… I was into the garden almost before I’d unpacked. Today, I feel flat and tired as I fall back into the old routines. There’s a lot to do. Being on holiday forces you to stop. I miss it!