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Apr. 2nd, 2011 02:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
endlessraritiesA curious thing happened in Costa Coffee in Glasgow today. As I sat with J having a panini and a coffee, I thought I saw someone I recognised sitting at the next table in the company of what I can only assume was her family. She's a scholar of the Neolithic, who did her first degree at Glasgow, then went on to join the Cambridge clique whom I used to hang out with at conferences in the early 1990s, during my carefree postgrad days.
I last met her two and a bit years ago, at a Bronze Age conference in Sheffield, where we were both giving papers. As we chatted over coffees in an intermission, we both wound up sighing into our polysterene cups and lamenting that we both envied each other's circumstances: she thought me lucky because I'd managed to blag a full-time permanent job in commercial archaeology, while I considered her lucky because she'd had the tenacity to keep striving for an academic post (she was on a temporary contract at Leicester, I think it was).
It had been the best part of ten years since we'd last spoken together, and I would have loved to catch up with her again today. If indeed it was her. It looked like her, it sounded like her, and if she'd mentioned the words 'Neolithic'. 'archaeology' or 'university' I'd have been over like a shot. But, alas, the shred of doubt was sufficient to make me chicken out of approaching her.
It's a classic case of decontextualisation. If I'd met her in the company of archaeologists, I'd have had no doubts about her identity. And next time we meet up, at a conference years from now - as I'm sure we undoubtedly will - we'll probably have a good laugh about it. But in the meantime, all I can do is lament a lost opportunity.
Let's turn now to the subject of gardens. Because I've just been to a garden centre, and because I was paid on Thursday, of course I had to indulge. I replaced my lovely shattered pot (which reminded me of a collared urn) with another that's more reminiscent of Grooved Ware (a Neolithic pottery type, which I've blogged about previously...), which seems appropriate, as I can see its purchase as a reminder of the missed opportunity in the coffee shop.
And of course, I couldn't leave without some plants. I bought a lovely red pasque flower, and yet another ranunculus. Where has the ranunculus been all my life? It's an utterly gorgeous plant at this time of year, and it comes in such a variety of colours. If you don't believe me, here's the red one, opening out at last. And check out those leaves! The buttercup heritage can't be denied:-
The ornamental quince will be out very soon, and the celandines and opposite-leaved golden saxifrage are flowering in the wild flower garden. The wood anemones under the weeping silver pear (aka 'Cousin It') have flowered for the first time this year, and I THINK the tree paeony has a bud on it. How exciting it that!!
A view of the back bed now, an awkward shady damp spot which is difficult to plant. I've at last managed to get it filled with a combination of pulmonaria and hellebore, and there's a white dicentra coming into bud now, too:-
I last met her two and a bit years ago, at a Bronze Age conference in Sheffield, where we were both giving papers. As we chatted over coffees in an intermission, we both wound up sighing into our polysterene cups and lamenting that we both envied each other's circumstances: she thought me lucky because I'd managed to blag a full-time permanent job in commercial archaeology, while I considered her lucky because she'd had the tenacity to keep striving for an academic post (she was on a temporary contract at Leicester, I think it was).
It had been the best part of ten years since we'd last spoken together, and I would have loved to catch up with her again today. If indeed it was her. It looked like her, it sounded like her, and if she'd mentioned the words 'Neolithic'. 'archaeology' or 'university' I'd have been over like a shot. But, alas, the shred of doubt was sufficient to make me chicken out of approaching her.
It's a classic case of decontextualisation. If I'd met her in the company of archaeologists, I'd have had no doubts about her identity. And next time we meet up, at a conference years from now - as I'm sure we undoubtedly will - we'll probably have a good laugh about it. But in the meantime, all I can do is lament a lost opportunity.
Let's turn now to the subject of gardens. Because I've just been to a garden centre, and because I was paid on Thursday, of course I had to indulge. I replaced my lovely shattered pot (which reminded me of a collared urn) with another that's more reminiscent of Grooved Ware (a Neolithic pottery type, which I've blogged about previously...), which seems appropriate, as I can see its purchase as a reminder of the missed opportunity in the coffee shop.
And of course, I couldn't leave without some plants. I bought a lovely red pasque flower, and yet another ranunculus. Where has the ranunculus been all my life? It's an utterly gorgeous plant at this time of year, and it comes in such a variety of colours. If you don't believe me, here's the red one, opening out at last. And check out those leaves! The buttercup heritage can't be denied:-
And now a general view of the front garden. For those of you who've been following this blog through the last year or so, let me apologise for the feeling of deja vu you'll be experiencing right now. A whole new year, with the same old daffodils. Only this time, half of them are flat:-
The ornamental quince will be out very soon, and the celandines and opposite-leaved golden saxifrage are flowering in the wild flower garden. The wood anemones under the weeping silver pear (aka 'Cousin It') have flowered for the first time this year, and I THINK the tree paeony has a bud on it. How exciting it that!!
A view of the back bed now, an awkward shady damp spot which is difficult to plant. I've at last managed to get it filled with a combination of pulmonaria and hellebore, and there's a white dicentra coming into bud now, too:-
Though the fatsia to the left is still having a major strop after the recent hard frosts...
And lastly, another pulmonaria. I believe this one's a 'Mrs Moon' - it's got lovely lanceolate leaves (what a lovely word! It's up there with the word 'lentoid', which I found in a recent Early Bronze Age metalwork report and managed to apply in a munitions factory site record!!) and it's putting out a lot of blooms this year, too. If you don't have a pulmonaria of your own, GET ONE!! Though unfortunately despite the hairy leaves, they are not slug/snail proof:-
And lastly, another pulmonaria. I believe this one's a 'Mrs Moon' - it's got lovely lanceolate leaves (what a lovely word! It's up there with the word 'lentoid', which I found in a recent Early Bronze Age metalwork report and managed to apply in a munitions factory site record!!) and it's putting out a lot of blooms this year, too. If you don't have a pulmonaria of your own, GET ONE!! Though unfortunately despite the hairy leaves, they are not slug/snail proof:-
To those of you who are still trapped in the throes of winter, may the weather gods soon take pity on you and grant you some warmth!
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Date: 2011-04-02 05:22 pm (UTC)