h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Back to the country after baby-sitting on Saturday afternoon and night. Little gddr lovely as always, this time she was sleeping over and her parents came back late to my place from the U2 concert. This morning she had a first breakfast of milk and cereal in a bottle and then a second breakfast of croissant and brioche with us. Bless.

I travelled by a train I expected to find empty but it was filled with young (8-10)Jewish children going to summer camp with their incredibly young camp counsellors. The noise level was incredible (like magpies, we would say) but they were a cheery bunch. They sang songs together, it was very jolly.

On arrival I just caught O/H's second daughter and family and O/H's third daughter and fiancé, who had made a pit stop on their way to the Côte d'Azur because she was poorly. Next week we join them to go house-hunting as they will start their own veterinary surgery down South. Buying the practice, then finding a house, then going to the bank and borrowing the lot... Anxious times.

There will be a lull of a few days before O/H's first and second daughters descend on us for a short stay with husbands and babies/toddlers. Then another lull, then a two-day stint of grandmotherly duties for me, after which we might have the little girl to stay with us before son and daughter join us and we go down to Brittany together. Just a few days for us and then back home.

Sounds exhausting? It's going to be. In the meantime, weeds will have to be pulled, grass to be cut, and translating to be done. O/H is manning the kitchen garden and we've already had lots of tomatoes, salads, redcauurant and blackcurrant sherbet, yummy.

Since the horrific events in London, I have felt a heavy pall upon me (trite but true) : nothing can ever be the same. I keep thinking of those still buried under the debris, hoping that death was swift, but knowing it can't have been for all. I am seeking to express my sadness and unbounded admiration for all concerned, from the Queen down, but you can't do that in the Bull without sneering clowns and embittered old Bennites and assorted Gorgeous Georges biting your head off and/or making cheap points. So I resort to the New York Times, a haven of humanism. Their article on the residents of the Arab district north of Edgware Road (?) was truly enlightening.

The BBC website is very reticent as to names, but in Le Monde and Libération, whole biographies of potential perpetrators are to be found.

Sumer reading so far: I Capture the Castle, which I found much better than I expected, and I have started on Amin Maalouf's Leo the African, though I have to ration myself because it's absolutely riveting.

Martine,

I for one, share your admiration of the way Londoners are responding to this latest affront (the Irish media have unanimous in praise and admiration, also in outrage). I am a country person of a long line (on my mother's side) of peasants, but I often find the way those who live in the big cities respond to situations is a reminder of the link between 'city' and 'civitas' and 'civilisation'. My heart aches for those caught up in it. And I know what you mean by the nit pickers and begrudgers in the Bull. But they are a tiny proportion of the people in there.

I agree the Queen, and Tony Blair, and Ken Livingstone spoke well. And I pray for all of them and all of us. I'll look up the New York Times article. In the middle of all the conflicting emotions of the last week I remembered the way it used to feel being Irish in London when the IRA bombing cmapaigns were going on, and felt glad that my cousin R and her Algerian husband and their daughter were all in Mayo for her mother's funeral this week, and not at home in London.

We live in interesting times. Alas.

My goodness Martine, your summer plans make me feel tired already!

But I'm sure you'll enjoy all your visitors, especially little Marie.

This evening I've been feasting on pâté de lapin and bleu d’Auvergne from this weekend’s French market in Cambridge, accompanied by organic pan gallego from the urban farm shop round the corner. Yum! I'm saving the saucisson de sanglier for later in the week ...

Busy weekend for us here. Thrilled yesterday at youth orchestra concert offspring being Leader this term: Overture to Don Giovanni, Horn Concerto No 4, two pieces by Jarnefelt (small solos in both) plus Schuberts 5th. They pulled it off finely.

Funny thing about the cheap political point-scoring in the british male is that it seeems to be one end of the stiff upper lip spectrum - the other end being those who "mustn't grumble".

There have been a number of "terrorist" bombs in larger cities over the years placed very near concentrated migrant populations. Never know whether this is intentional or not, but tends to harden the resolve against political interests which show little regard for the lives of the very people who might find common cause with them. Possibly all coincidental.

petal jam

Dean (or dvc), I am always struck by the open-mindedness, courtesy and depth of posters from Ireland, from both sides of the border. None of them is petty. Of course you have passed through fire and water.

Saucisson de sanglier, Annie how can you! Pâté de lapin, oh my god, it might be Stumper in there!

We're already a bit daunted by summer "holidays", to tell the truth.

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Yes it is almost a pattern, isn't it?

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This is so true, pj.

I am impressed by your offspring : when you say Leader, does this mean he is conducting as well as playing an instrument?

First of all First Violins - US = Concertmaster - historically could be called upon to conduct/ lead by example in the absence of specialist - cf. currently esp. Andrew Manze in baroque repertoire - in this situation unlikely, since he is a lot younger than some senior players (who are all of 18). Clapped off the stage, with a curtain call, to his embarrassment. Played beautifully , but all he could think of afterwards was getting on the wrong bow on one passage in the Schubert, and wanted to slink away early!

pj