On having the temerity to want to write about parenting

I have two major qualifications for daring to write on this subject. Firstly, I am a parent, both through giving birth and through marriage; and secondly, I've probably made most of the mistakes in the book (if there were such a thing as a definitive manual on the subject!).
Others include having had parents myself along with the rest of humanity, which makes us all experts, we probably feel. I've also had the great blessing of very good friends with whom to share the ups and downs of family life. We have all observed and learned from each other along the way.
In recent years, too, there have been some excellent programmes on this subject from some of which I've gained really helpful insights, sadly too late in the day for my own children's benefit (I hear them groan).
Being as good a parent as most of us would like to be is such a hard job I reckon, so any help along the way has always been a boon to me. If I can share any thoughts and experiences that have helped me and that might be of use to others, I would be more than pleased.
As thoughts come to me, I'd like to share them from time to time but couldn't contemplate doing so without first writing this preamble.

On Daniel Barenboim and Mozart

Some background first; my earliest and greatest love in music was, and still is, Beethoven. He was my parents' favourite, their most beloved pieces being the Pastoral Symphony and the Emperor Piano Concerto.
At that time, Mozart wasn't as popular as he is now and I wasn't that keen. Nor was I particularly keen on the persona of the young Daniel Barenboim; somewhat precocious, I felt!
Still, when we found he was coming to our local (and excellent) concert hall, best friend, S, and I bought tickets. It was a Friday evening in the summer. I can even remember where we were sitting. The hall was completely sold out.
He was playing and conducting a small and brilliant orchestra whose name I can no longer remember (I'll have the programme somewhere in the recesses of my souvenir cupboard - the contents of which will land in a 'bonfire of the vanities' when I die - as the children warn me!).
The concert consisted of three Mozart concertos, and we, the audience, were held in the palm of the pianist's hands. It was totally true to say that you could have heard a pin drop. It was as though we all held our breath while he played.
It wasn't as if he played completely perfectly; he didn't, but the feeling, the delicacy, the beauty were matchless. It still remains one of the most memorable concerts which I have ever attended.
I am reminded of this, this afternoon, as, while husband and son-at-home are pursuing their usual after-Sunday-lunch occupation of watching the football (well it is Man-U, and though they both support our local team, they follow Man-U as well), I listen to my CDs as I try to write in the daytime rather than snatched half-hours in the late evening.
My alphabetical choice had brought me to
'MOZART Concertos pour piano 9,20,21,23 & 27 with the English Chamber Orchestra DANIEL BARENBOIM - EMI CLASSICS' ie very old, from 1967.
I think that was the orchestra he was with, now I come to think of it. Listening to his playing has brought tears to my eyes in the sad parts and incredulity at the sparkling brilliance of the playing.
He has so many achievements of which to be proud but nothing can top the genius of that rare and amazing gift. I feel privileged to be able to say that I heard him play live.

(I feel I must also add that Mozart is now higher up my play-list too!)

On listening to Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau singing Mahler's "Lieder eines Fahrenden Gesellen"

If God had a voice,
then God would sound like this.

(Especially in the last movement which is enough to break one's heart in its ineffable and poignant beauty.)

On our self-catering idyll in the Dordogne, at Les Taloches, Tourtoirac

A question: which two words in the above title are, in my books anyway, a contradiction in terms?
Yes, you spotted them; they are, of course, 'self-catering' and 'idyll'! In our younger days, such holidays had been the stuff of our family life, from choice mostly but also from financial necessity, as they are for multitudes of families, I know.
What then drove us to even contemplate such a venture, a full eight years after my unilateral declaration that hotels were the way ahead (or down-bank, if you prefer - well I certainly did)!
The culprits, in this case, were one of our lovely granddaughters and her, now, husband! A chateau in the Dordogne seemed a beautifully romantic idea to them and their friends and to most people to whom I mentioned it. "Oh how wonderful", was the general response; "you'll love it!"
How grouchy does it sound to say that husband and I were thinking, 'What!; arranging flights to Limoges, foreign car-hire a necessity, finding somewhere to stay etc etc!'
In the event, husband, himself, found a marvellous place for us, 25 minutes away from the wedding venue, (see above). It looked and sounded absolutely marvellous online and turned out to be even more marvellous in reality!
We had a fantastic week. The wedding, the family get-together the following day at our amazing holiday home, the scenery, the people, the food, France itself, were all a joy.
I promised Suzie and Gary, the lovely new owners of Les Taloches, who couldn't have been kinder and more helpful, that I would spread the word and this is my effort (and, no, I'm not on commission, honestly!).
I was also very pleased to be able to try to show solidarity with the French people at this tragic time of atrocity and sorrow.
Family members, who hadn't been on holiday in France before, were so taken with it, they are planning to return next year. As son, R, said, "If this is to be your last self-catering holiday, it might as well be somewhere this special" and, do you know, it was, it really was.

PS If you should happen to read this, Suzie and Gary, I did say to you that my wheels mostly grind extremely slowly so, for this post to be done only a week after our return, is pretty phenomenal for me and is a testament to you both and not just because of the gorgeous lemon drizzle cake you so kindly baked for us, Suzie; honest!!! We wish you every success in your venture. You deserve it

On joy at the Proms last night

This evening, I watched the recorded programme of last night's performance, by a young Finnish violinist, of Tchaikovsky's violin Concerto.
What a joy that was, only to be followed by the funniest encore I've ever seen. Not only did he explain, make jokes about and play a Finnish folk song but he duetted with the leader of the orchestra, SANG the words, then taught and conducted the whole audience in the chorus, which was, of course, in Finnish.
An absolute star; he made me laugh out loud and filled me with the joy of his delight in music - of all sorts!!