A thought experiment on forensic structural anthropology

Thoughts arising from my poking around in references 1, 2 and 3, in the course of this morning's rather warm Screwfix circuit. There had been a suggestion that Levi-Strauss was so busy looking for some important inner meaning that he did not see the outer meaning, sitting right in front of him. Matters which were last raised at reference 4 and to which I shall return.

Suppose I run an experiment in which I test a large number of people, using a statistically respectable population and a statistically respectable sampling procedure.

In the experiment, each subject is sat in a quiet room, by him or herself, and asked to recite a series of positive numbers - that is to say integers - to a computer, for a period of ten minutes. Provided they speak clearly, they can go as fast or as slow (within reason) as they like, use whatever numbers they like. Maybe a series of a small number of hundreds of numbers. Maybe a few persistent souls would just say the same number over and over again. Or perhaps some short sequence over and over again. Probably making a few mistakes. The ambitious might attempt something much more complicated.

I then analyse all these series using a battery of tests to be devised. My opening hypothesis is that there will be a tendency for the series to go up, for one number to be bigger than its predecessor. There will also be a tendency for one number to be the next number after its predecessor, that is to say 17 is often followed by 18. The line of least resistance for the brain.

In the event, I find that people, for these purposes, fall into seven robust categories. No doubt about it, these categories do exist. Maybe I go so far as to confirm this using some other populations, perhaps then finding that while the existence of these categories is robust enough, their distribution varies significantly from one population to another.

How do I then persuade someone to fund some fundamental research, my myself in the lead, from a comfortable chair, into the fundamentals underlying this fascinating phenomenon?

PS 1: I should add that counting silently to myself, counting the paces, is a device I sometimes use when walking up a hill which is proving a bit much. Sometimes deliberately, but more often it just happens of itself. One of the aforementioned categories might involve the conscious start point, with my belief being that more of this counting goes on more than I am consciously aware of. 

I associate here to the counting of young children, which is apt to move forward in leaps and bounds once they start to get tired of it.

PS 2: some rather different thoughts from Bing are snapped above. Amazing the stuff that query engines, aka AI, can come up with. While under the 'images' tab there were lots of skulls.

PS 3: much later, during the second Screwfix circuit (yesterday's whitebeam above): once we have cracked this one, we can move onto to the much more complicated and very different two player version. That is to say each experiment involves two subjects, who take it in turns to say a number. Experimental protocols to be developed in due course.

References

Reference 1: The story of Asdiwal – Lévi-Strauss – 1960.

Reference 2: Lévi-Strauss – Leach E R – 1970, 1985.

Reference 3: The elementary structures of kinship – Lévi-Strauss – 1949, 1969.

Reference 4: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/04/more-clans-and-marriages.html.

Group search key: 20260429.

More S&K

That is to say, more steak and kidney from the Waitrose meat counter: beef top rib plus sheep's kidneys. Perhaps not quite enough kidney (one bag) for the amount of beef (a little more than one kilo).

After consulting the precedents at references 1 and 2, I decided that an hour and a half should be enough, start to finish, adding the kidneys at around the half way point.

The beef was chunked, floured and put into the pre-heated oil at 12:00. No water added at this point; just a little rice water being added to the gravy later.

Removed some the core of the kidneys in the course of coarsely cutting them up. Added them at around 13:00, by which time the beef was not far off cooked. I might say that the kidneys were rather more attractive out of the bag than they were in the bag.

At around 13:20, drained the liquor off the meat, roux'd up some flour in some oil and combined the two to make a fine gravy. Gravy poured over the meat and the whole brought back up to heat.

Rice and greens prepared and cooked in parallel. While BH had stewed some apples - with cloves - the frozen blackberries having been finished off some months ago now - earlier in the day.

On the table at 13:35, just five minutes late. Plus a drop of Fleurie, also from Waitrose.

On the plate, where it all did very well.

Enough of the steak and kidney was left to serve the next day, with just a little vegetable stock needed to thin the gravy. And enough left-over gravy to have on bread a bit later on.

PS: we did not pick blackberries to freeze last year, but intend to resume this year.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/02/cook-of-day.html. February.

Reference 2: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/01/steak-and-kidney.html. January.

Fake 198

Fake 198 is a pocket on a tweed jacket. The sales assistant did not think to remove the tacking that shut all the pockets and when BH got around to untacking yesterday, she found that this pocket was not a pocket at all. A fake, very much in the way of a lot of architectural trim which echoes building practise of some bygone era.

The jacket came from a shop which was more or less opposite the Grand Temple of the Masons in Great Queen Street, although, as far as I know, Masons, when on the square, always wear black suits or black jackets with striped trousers. The name of the shop is presumably a deliberate - if curious - echo of the once famous asset stripper, Slater Walker, of reference 1. Web site of the shop at reference 2.

A jacket which, rather than from anywhere near the River Tweed (in the far north), actually came from Portugal.

A shop which rather aped a gentlemen's outfitter of old, say the Lester Bowden late of Epsom or the shops which were cut from the same cloth and which were once to be found in Trinity Street and King's Parade in Cambridge. Don't know if they are still there, but they were past their prime by the time I got to know them in the 1980s. Sadly, the aping did not run to the little books with carbon paper in which the sales assistants - mostly knowledgeable, older men - recorded their sales. Or to the older men come to that.

While just this morning, I read something about an expat who lives in Bangkok, who has made a lot of money out of trading in aviation fuel and crypto money, which last some people might call fake money. Money which is driven in some large part by the desire of criminals and others with hot money to be able to hold and move money about without it being visible to the authorities, not least the policemen and the taxmen. An expat who has given money to various causes, but a great deal to Reform UK - with Farage having been, as I believe, another commodity trader. See reference 3.

I learn also that the expat is related in some way to the R. C. Sherriff who provided the entertainment noticed at reference 4.

References

Reference 1: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slater_Walker. I had forgotten that it went bust in the mid 1970s, a going bust which led to criminal charges.

Reference 2: https://www.walkerslater.com/.

Reference 3: Farage's mystery money man: Who is Christopher Harborne, the crypto billionaire bankrolling Reform UK - Tom Burgis, the Guardian - 25th April 2026.

Reference 4: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/03/the-hopkins-manuscript.html.

Reference 5: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/04/fake-197.html.

Group search key: fakesk.

Tulips at noon

This being notice of a visit to the tulips of Hampton Court a week or so ago, with this notice having commenced pretty much at noon.

A cool start to the day, although it became warm and sunny later. Light jacket, light sweater, scarf, sun hat and sun glasses turned out to be spot on. Just right for bench life in the sun.

There were tubs of tulips spaced out along the drive - with the tulips themselves looking well enough - but I thought the tubs were a lapse of garden design: the tubs were too widely spaced in too long a drive, in which they were a bit lost.

Furthermore, the scaffolding wrap, which had been advertised as emulating, after a fashion, the original height of the main gatehouse, seemed to have stalled. Had there been some hitch? Maybe the Health & Safety people had not been sufficiently consulted? No proper risk register in place? See reference 1 for previous notice.

Once inside, plenty of other tulips to be seen. Some past, some passing and plenty at their best.

Some sprinkled about some larger beds. Some masses, often a central rectangle of one or two varieties with a contrasting border.. Some mixed plantings, as snapped above. A generally high standard of both tulips and their planting.

A noisy infant enlivened my wait for my bacon bap, it being our custom that BH does the shopping on occasions of this sort. Bacon bap pretty good, if a little over-provided on the bacon front. There did not seem to be any current buns, hot-cross or otherwise, or scones - which I might have taken otherwise.

On through the wilderness, where the daffodils were largely done, and from there to the laburnum arch, not quite in full swing.

In fact, a little patchy, with various repair works underway. Works which will take a while to come to fruition. I guess you have to be a proper gardener to know how to manage these things, when you can get by with regular maintenance and when you need to dig up and start over.

I associate to my father's cordon apples, planted in the late 1950s, which were rather neglected in the 1970s and never really recovered - at which point I dare say I would probably have done better in the 1980s to start over, rather than attempting to nurse them back to health. As it turned out, we were  not there for that long, so perhaps nursing was the right answer for us after all, as I dare say the next people just ripped them all out anyway. At least we got some apples: Amongst which I remember the James Grieve, the Blenheim Orange and Ellison's Orange, this last the one with the distinctive aniseed taste. For which see reference 2, from towards the end of allotment life.

A laburnum flower.

Followed by a fairly lengthy spot of sun-lit bench life. I may have dozed off.

Some rather splendid tulips in a bit of what was left of the once memorable herbaceous border, running along the eastern side of the palace.

We often wonder whether border needs to lie fallow under grass for a bit, or whether the grass just reflects the lack of gardeners - or perhaps the money to pay them - although I believe that, as at Wisley and Polesden Lacey, there are volunteers as well as payroll gardeners.

The Long Water, which gmaps reveals to be getting on for a kilometre long. The slightly carelessly edited section of the Palace website which might have said how long, did not, but it did tell me about the Longford River, an aqueduct dug for Charles II to fetch in water from the River Colne at Longford. From which the name of Long Water is derived, with just reinforcement from its considerable length.

The notice of apple maintenance above reminds me that the then Duke of Edinburgh made the management decision to cut down the ailing avenues of trees down both sides of the water and start over. Which looks well enough now - but I believe that there was a lot of discussion at the time.

The Longford River, as snapped from Wikipedia. The Long Water will probably be visible bottom right if you click to enlarge.

With the original now mixed up with Heathrow Airport and the Duke of Northumberland's River - part of which runs across the southern boundary of what is now the airport.

Before arriving at Bushy Park, and from thence down to the Palace. I wonder if the water was used for domestic purposes - perhaps including drinking - as well as garden purposes?

A small section of my conversation with Gemini about the Longford River and its uses. The answer appears to be that it was fit for washing up and washing floors, but not for drinking. Drinking water was piped from Kingston in something called the Coombe Conduit, for which see reference 4 - from which I learn that the lead pipes involved - some miles of them - were maybe three inches external diameter and two inches internal. A great deal of lead - which Gemini adds up to between 200 and 300 tons of the stuff. Perhaps I will check his sums later.

He has the length of the Long Water at 1,200 metres.

Back on the day in question, the south side of the Long Water was the closing section of a pink clad walk for Breast Cancer, the same pink, as it happens, as is favoured by Dignity in Dying (to be reported on shortly).

They were entertained on arrival by a band of drummers, complete with a very energetic lady drum major. I thought maybe no drum majorette, but yes steel drums, BH favoured something Japanese.

Some of the tulips in Fountain Court. The tubs worked rather better here.

The 'wrap' from the inside.

All in all a fine visit. With plenty to do next time we are in the area.

Onto to our usual cafe for tea and sandwiches. In my case, I was pleased to find that they could do an empty baguette to go with my overfilled ham sandwich, thus making two sandwiches. The ham might look a bit chunky, but I thought it was rather good.

Out to find a Tesla car next but one to ours, all sealed up and containing a dog. This being mid-afternoon on what had been a warm day. The lady in the car next to ours was rather concerned about it, but there was nothing we could do, short of forcing a door or a window, and the dog in question was alert enough and did not appear to be distressed. So we let it be.

PS 1: it so happens that on this very day, I had been reading about the display of dress and jewels of both the men and the women of the court of Henry VIII, that is to say very much the time of the Palace. With the King himself leading the way. It seems that this display was at a pitch which would be considered rather gross these days; we like our conspicuous consumption to be a bit more tasteful, the example of POTUS over the pond notwithstanding.

I seem to remember from my school days that the crime of Cardinal Wolsey, the builder of the Tudor part of the Palace, was to go too far, with his display rivalling that of the King.

From where I associate to the King having a wrestling match with the French King. A serious match which must have stretched diplomatic protocol a bit. I liked Gemini's phrase about not leaving alpha males together for too long. POTUS and his chum Musk spring to mind.

PS 2: I was interested to see the piece at reference 7. The sort of eventuality which is very likely to get legal given the amount of money involved. Good for the lawyers, bad for the customers of John Lewis who will end up footing a chunk of their bill. At least it is not one for the government, who have plenty enough on their plate as it is.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/03/wilderness.html.

Reference 2: https://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.com/2007/09/googled-out.html.

Reference 3: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Longford_River.

Reference 4: https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/coombe-conduit/history/

Reference 5: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/02/the-swerve.html.

Reference 6: Renaissance Self-Fashioning: From More to Shakespeare – Stephen Greenblatt – 1980.

Reference 7: London landlord sues John Lewis in click-and-collect dispute: Owner of Brent Cross shopping centre argues that 47-year-old lease entitles it to a cut of John Lewis’s online sales - Philip Stafford, Alistair Gray, Financial Times - 2026.

Three trolleys

Yesterday was a day of no less than three trolley sightings, involving four trolleys, none of which were returned in the old way.

Starting with one from Sainsbury's between the underpass and Screwfix. Just over a year old and already in the hands of Wanzl Service.

The whitebeam was looking very white.

I had thought, from a little distance, that the flowers had not fully opened but I was wrong. 

The telephone could not manage the flowers in full sunlight, but it did well enough on the ones above, zoomed on my laptop, to know that there are five petals. Not so sure about the number of stamens: ten would have been neat, but I did not get further than nine - certainly not to the point of knowing whether it was always the same numbers. But one can see how one might get carried away in one's study, with a magnifying glass, rather in the way of the stamp collector. Proper old-style country parson stuff, before they changed sex and became social workers.

Sunday lunch, inter alia, involved a very fine apple pie. Just like grandma used to make. Blue and white enamel plate from China, rather than from Poland, from where I think they used to come in the distant past.

Gemini is on the case. Ever so easy just to take his neat little stories at face value, without bothering to check - bearing in mind that he does make mistakes, like the rest of us. But he does confirm the Polish angle, possibly a derivative (in my brain) of having once seen the film 'Schindler's List'.

My mother had a plate very like the one we have now, also used for the occasional pie, and it now seems likely that hers did indeed come from Poland. BH's mother ditto.

Later on, on the second circuit of the day, I came across a small flock of starlings grazing on Clay Hill Green, maybe a dozen or more of them. Birds which were common enough when I was young, but I don't see them on the ground in Epsom very often. Much more frequently in London - for example in Borough Market, as previously noticed at reference 1.

Followed by two more trolley sightings in Station Approach, a one and a two. All from Marks and Spencer. The one was almost brand new, having only been made in February.

PS 1: the previous day, we celebrated the flowering of the fine hawthorn in our road; fully up to the standard of Horton Lane.

A celebration which took the form of a beverage inside the Marquis, the fine Wetherspoon's terrace across the road being full, it being a sunny afternoon. Not a lot of warm beer on offer - or being consumed - although my Doombar (shades of the Shambles off Portland) was fine.

But they did very well on the non-alcoholic drinks for ladies, serving up a very pretty confection of various bits and bobs. And the barman - very young - seemed to know how to make it without having to consult the recipe - so presumably they sell a few of them.

The lady in question was very well pleased. Not cheap, so a win-win situation; just as a trade - in this case credit card coin for beverage - should be.

PS 2: I associate to the Goodwin Sands, also the site of many wrecks, but named for Earl Godwin - the father of King Harold - who once owned them. 

Gemini thinks that this is just a story and that the sands have not been any use for farming for thousands of years. But he gets a bit carried away when I mention the connection back to Portland. Very exuberant.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/01/cheese.html.

Group search key: 20260425, 20260426.

Romeo & Juliet

A week or so ago to a curiously anonymous version of 'Romeo & Juliet' at the Epsom Playhouse, which was put on by the people at reference 1. A production which was touring the land, with most of the stops being of a couple of nights, but with Epsom only rating the one. And today I failed to recover the timetable.

I thought I knew the play well enough not to bother with any revision, and my only preparation was a snooze in the afternoon, followed by a light meal at 17:00 for the 19:00 start.

Headed off to town in our car, having been warned at the off of trouble in town. Which turned out to mean that a lot of cars were stuck in town as a result of a demonstration by a rather unsavoury crowd of people who might have been from the National Front had it been fifty years ago, demonstrating about an alleged and very serious incident outside a night club a few days previously. It has all gone very quiet, but it is now not clear to me at least whether there actually was any incident of the sort described. Was the whole thing a put-up job? By whom?

As luck would have it though, we were able to get into the NCP car park via Temple Road without too much bother, arriving at the theatre in time to take a beverage beforehand.

After which we learned that we were in for a three hour show, far too long for me these days, with around two hours being the limit of my comfort zone.

A show which seemed more pantomime than play, with pantomime costumes making up for the very light touch staging. The heads of the two families appeared to be missing, leaving the wife of one of them to hold the fort. Benvolio had changed sex. Juliet had been moved from 14 to 18 years old - which seemed odd considering the crudity of much of the dialogue - which I had forgotten about.

The cast were young and enthusiastic but had little or no stage presence. One suspected that they had had little or no training in speaking this kind of stuff. Notwithstanding which, I did pick up a number of famous quotes, for example the one about steerage snapped above, complete with handy translation. Turned up by Bing with no bother at all. The word 'steerage' gets five hits in the archive, one of which is to be found at reference 8, from the far-off days when I was still doing the Horton Clockwise - in which connection I  might say that we went down Horton Lane the other day and the hawthorn was looking well. Something that I still remember from said far-off days.

The audience consisted mostly of school children and the articulate young man sitting next to me explained that it was one of several texts featured in this year's GSCE and that most of those present, including himself, had been sent there by their teachers.

We left at half time. Quite apart from the production, I had decided that I was too old for this sort of thing. The brain could not keep up, not without going in for more preparation than I was likely to manage - despite having no less than two copies of this particular play and a fair number of performances of same under my belt. I associate this morning to my mother telling us about how trips to the theatre to see a show were the culmination of perhaps half a year's worth of classroom preparation by her village college adolescents.

The roads were now clear and we got home without incident. To what I took to be Jupiter and Venus: very bright, fairly low and between south and west.

Home

The archive turned up no less than 17 hits on the clue 'Romeo Juliet'. The first one I try, reference 2, is about the arrival of one of my two copies of the text. Through various other extranea, like cigars, to a real performance at reference 3, from the same camp as that noticed here. There must be a regular production somewhere in there!

I then thought about the length of the play. To find that there was nothing unusual about 3 hours, with the production at reference 4 taking about that. Tempted in passing, but for well over £100 for a decent matinée seat, I passed, at least for now.

I then remembered that length of Shakespeare's plays was something that I had looked into before. But where did I put it?

All the archive turned up were the posts at reference, which did not help much, and I was reduced to going back to basics at reference 6 - complete with the irritating thought that high culture can be acquired, starting from scratch, as a young adult, without having to work at it. Never mind an old adult. High culture written in complicated language drawn from what is, in effect, close to a foreign language, even for English speakers. All part of the something for nothing culture we now seem to live in.

Moans aside, I did extract the snap above, via Excel, Powerpoint and Microsoft's Snipping Tool. Romeo and Juliet very much in the middle of the field.

PS 1: the piece about a luxury cross between a cruise liner and a sailing boat caught my eye this morning at reference 7. A rather gross bit of conspicuous consumption to my mind, one which left me with a bad taste. The world ought to have more worthy things to do with its money - especially on the Lord's Day.

PS 2: A bit later, I relented and tried to book tickets for Romeo & Juliet at the Harold Pinter theatre, the production mentioned above. To be blocked at the mandatory field which wanted my email address. Tried the chat box but that was useless. Didn't seem to be a box office number. Logged out and logged in again. Still no good. Abandoned ship.

References

Reference 1: https://www.nationalproductioncompany.com/.

Reference 2: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/11/air-ambulance.html.

Reference 3: https://psmv2.blogspot.com/2015/03/romeo-alpha.html.

Reference 4: https://www.haroldpintertheatre.co.uk/shows/romeo-and-juliet.

Reference 5: https://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.com/search?q=length+hamlet.

Reference 6: https://nosweatshakespeare.com/list-of-shakespeare-plays/. 

Reference 7: Aboard the Orient Express Corinthian — the world’s biggest sailing ship: Simon Usborne gets a preview of the pioneering superyacht, ahead of its official launch next week - Simon Usborne, Financial Times - 2026.

Reference 8: https://psmv2.blogspot.com/2015/03/but-he-that-hath-steerage-of-my-course.html.

Fake 197

One of the minor grumbles at the Wisley Gardens, which we were visiting yesterday, is the way that you are routed through a very large shop on the way out, a shop which must be starting to compete with the one at Chessington Garden Centre - but at least these last have the excuse that they are a business rather than a botanical garden. Although, in the distant past, they did try to interest the local authority in the educational side of their fish department: I had thought that there might be something in it, but the local authority, I never knew why, did not bite.

At the Wisley shop we came across the fake ammonite snapped above, nestling in a small display of succulents.

Not altogether sure that it was a fake, but I do now know that there is a large ammonite industry out there, both real and fake. While at reference 3, I learned that some real ammonites are heavily touched up in the process of cleaning them. All very complicated. But at least the toy above served to remind one what the live animal might have looked like.

PS: the Falkland Islands are in the news again. Sadly, the chances of our government doing the sensible thing and cutting some deal with Argentina about them getting them back in the not too distant future.are close to zero Even though I dare say they would even help with buying out the rights of the small number of Brits who actually (for some reason) want to live in the place, thousands of miles from the nearest English speaking hospital - or even decent school. Never mind warm beer. I should be annoyed if we end up spending serious amounts of money (again) to hold up the flag over a bunch of small islands in which we no longer have any real interest.

Throw in South Sandwich and South Georgia while we are at it?

Failing that, make a joke of it by making Peter Mandelson or Nigel Farage Governor General (without the option), complete with full panoply of cocked hat and ostrich feathers.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/03/fake-196.html.

Reference 2: https://www.chessingtongardencentre.co.uk/. I expect they share at least some wholesalers with Wisley, both on the plant and the accessory fronts.

Reference 3: https://www.thefossilforum.com/topic/63811-how-to-distingquish-fake-from-real-ammonites/.

Group search key: fakesk.

Arod

Ten days ago to the Wigmore Hall to hear the Arod Quartet give us Haydn Op.76 No.1 and Tchaikovsky Op.11. A Monday rather than a Sunday. A quartet we had heard just once before, as noticed at reference 1. On an occasion which must have been one of our last visits to Ponti's in Great Castle Street, now having been boarded up for a year or so.

The plan was to catch the 10:19 to Vauxhall which would give us time to take a snack at John Lewis, the thought being that All Bar One might not be that keen on serving tea and toast at lunch time. There was also the matter of needing to get a new jacket, with my Banana Republic one from a charity shop starting to look a bit tired. Something which I do not wear that often, but handy to have in the cupboard. Last noticed at reference 2.

Without incident to Oxford Circus and into John Lewis where we found that a branch of Waterstones had opened up. Up to the spacious cafeteria on the top floor, to find that it only had a few weeks to go before being taken over, most of the staff and all, by Benugo. I have wondered from time to time how John Lewis manages to offer such fine cafeterias - those in Sloane Square and Kingston being much the same - so I guess Benugo are going to find out. Will they be taking all the space?

I took a soft tuna baguette on this occasion, which turned out to be a minor error. The baguette was soft indeed and uninspiring. A fresh, old-style white bap would have been much better. And the tuna, having been puffed up with too much mayonnaise - or perhaps some special water - tasted wet. And there was too much of it. Adequate, but not good. Maybe we should have stuck with All Bar One: they could have said no after all, and, being a Monday, the perfectly decent sandwich bar opposite would probably have been open. Didn't cross my mind.

We then had a brief foray into jackets, to be defeated by the invasion of franchises. Rather than just going to Lester Bowden, the late lamented old-style outfitter in Epsom, and taking a look at their fine jacket rail, you had to traipse round all the franchises, looking at the rather feeble (if expensive) offerings at each in turn. Perhaps we will be reduced to going to Harrods or Selfridges? Although, as I recall, Selfridges is even worse on the franchise front than John Lewis. Don't know about Harrod's - can't remember when I was last there: there are a number of recent mentions in the archive, but I did not dig deep enough for an actual visit.

We did look in the window of the funny clothes shop in Wimpole Street, noticed at reference 3, at which we might have done our business, but it was very firmly shut.

Into the hall, where we had some interesting flowers. Four music stands and three computers. Unfortunately, I had a large young man in front of me who not only largely blocked my view, but also fidgeted most of the way through. I tried shutting my eyes, but that did not seem to work very well either. Net result, I did not enjoy the concert as much as I had been expecting. Beyond deciding that the Haydn was a proper quartet in parts, while the Tchaikovsky was more an exercise in tone and feel. BH did rather better.

After the concert, off to Waterloo to take a late lunch at the Italian Restaurant there. To be found at reference 4.

Started off modestly enough, with a half bottle of Sancerre. Except that it went down well enough that we took the other half.

I started with a soup involving pasta and beans, which was fine.

I failed to notice the guinea fowl at the bottom of the specials lists, and took a beef pasta dish instead. Also fine.

While BH was very pleased with her fish. I wound up with a slice of grandma's tart, which I had taken before, possibly a cross between a cheese cake and a custard tart.

Interesting skyscapes from the train around Vauxhall, it being much the same time of day as those previously noticed from the South London Road. No doubt something to do with the quality of late afternoon light in that part of town.

The RPPL had been restocked, but nothing of interest, and we settled down to wait for our connection on the bench outside. We were warned about some disruption to do with Worcester Park, but that failed to materialise. On the other hand, on the overhead display on our fine new Arterio train, the text jittered as it rolled across. Not been set up properly? Not spent enough on the displays, having spent all their money on the far too frequent and far too audible announcements?

Home to inspect the back garden in the bright, late afternoon light.

The new daffodil bed has been more or less taken over by Carex Pendula, which is fine by me. I like the plants and they are very low maintenance. Zero even.

Beyond that, the path leading to the brick compost heap. The variegated yellow archangels coming on right.

More archangel. The flowers do not last long, but they are very pretty while they last. And more low maintenance!

While we had an interesting, and rather threatening cloudscape out front. Don't think that it came to anything.

PS 1: arty shot from reference 5. Complete with a castle on a commanding height. A castle I have yet to track down.

PS 2: Gemini was quicker than DIY! See reference 7.

PS 3: no more crayfish. The Grill has moved on.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/11/schumann.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2025/02/sonatas.html.

Reference 3: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/04/viols.html.

Reference 4: https://www.4fratellicaprini.co.uk/. The restaurant.

Reference 5: https://www.sancerremichelgirard.com/. The wine.

Reference 6: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Rail_Class_701. The train home.

Reference 7: https://www.tourdesfiefs.fr/. More lists of sponsors rather than arty shots..