We live our lives forever taking leave - Rilke

Counter

Tuesday, 3 February 2026

Tuesday, February 3/2026

Alexander Skeaping 1/5/1944-5/9/2025

Alexander Skeaping was probably the most alive person I’ve ever known, so when a message arrived this morning telling us there was going to be a super gathering in his honour it took a minute or two to register. A retirement maybe - but Alexander would never truly retire. Then it hit. There were happy emojis - but Celebration of Life.

Alexander listed himself on X (Twitter) - where I didn’t follow him - as “freelance piano-tuner, harpsichordist, pianist, helicopter-pilot, glider-pilot, who loves travel, good food, intelligent people (esp. women!) & LIFE in general!). Could say that summed him up, but it falls far short. 

We used to meet, spring and autumn, until COVID interrupted the pattern, for lunch in or near London.
Two occasions come to mind. One fourteen years ago when Flora was still alive and we met at the Bel Canto at Lancaster Gate. Alexander tuned the piano at the restaurant and the pianist was a pleasure to listen to but the real drawing card was the wait staff, all of whom were opera students. Between serving tables they acted and sang arias from popular operas like Carmen. Did feel when the bill came that we’d underwritten their careers, but definitely a meal to remember.

Then there was a meal at Roses in Kilburn. Our pick that time. Told A that it was a working man’s café (pronounced caff) but had on a Thursday the best lamb kleftiko we’d had anywhere, including the Mediterranean. In those days they only made it on a Thursday - fifteen portions so nothing frozen and no leftovers. I phoned at nine to ask them to save us three for 1:15 and they did us proud. 

Got into a political discussion with a man from the next table who introduced himself as a Marxist and wanted to say that none of the UK parties had managed to prevent homelessness. We assured him that we all agreed that the new minimum wage was inadequate to survive on and then followed an exchange which could only have taken place in Britain. The man told A, probably accurately, that if he had A’s posh accent people would take his views more seriously. Then asked A what his occupation was. A answered, not untruthfully, that he was a piano tuner, though that was modestly short of the whole truth, as he tuned and supplied instruments for concerts and symphonies. And the man responded as only an Englishman could - “You don’t sound like it”. They did part as friends though, with good wishes and Facebook information.

And the helicopter pilot? Never quite got together on that one but he did suggest quite seriously that we could fly to France for coffee.

Alexander Skeaping, RIP.



Monday, 2 February 2026

Monday, February 2/2026

Courtesy Cyprus Mail

Happier photo of the Cyprus mouflon than the one on Saturday. The Cyprus Mail reports that the mouflon is on the increase in Cyprus but are in some areas being pushed out of their habitat and too close to agricultural land where they sometimes pick up diseases and can a,so be at risk from stray dogs. Their preferred habitat is forest but not too dense woods, but it’s in increasingly short supply.

Sunday, 1 February 2026

February 1/2026

 

Charles Schulz, November 4, 1964


Nearing the end of William Dalrymple’s City of Djinns, one of our read aloud books. It was far too good not to share but not the easiest book to read out loud because of the preponderance of double, triple, and quadruple Muslim and Indian names - like Ghiyas-ud-Din Tughluk. A silent reader would be more than tempted to do as Linus, of Peanuts fame, claimed to do while reading The Brothers Karamazov - bleep over them. 

But there’s some fascinating reading. The son of Ghiyas-ud-Din Tughluk, facing rebellions in 1335, pursued the rebel governors “beheading one, flaying another alive, ordering a third to be cut to pieces by his war elephants”. Yes, times have changed, but hard not to imagine how excited the execrable Trump would be to be able to cry havoc and let loose the war elephants on his enemies.

Do have a washing machine although usually wash small things in a basin and, like most people here, hang them outside to dry, which they do pretty quickly. Pair of sweat pants are on the dividing line. They do fit in the larger plastic basin but it’s hard to wring them well enough by hand to guarantee that they will dry outside before one of the recent sporadic showers interferes. Hence the spin cycle on the washer called into play. Have never used it on its own, but have been wanting to because of its name. Like all the cycles on the washer it is labelled in Turkish. Sıkma - translates as squeeze. Which is much more to the point than spin would have been. And, admirably, does as advertised.



Saturday, 31 January 2026

Saturday, January 31/2026

Courtesy Kemal Basat

The mouflon is the national animal of Cyprus. It’s a small mountain sheep that has been on the island since Neolithic times. Protected in this country now, though undoubtedly not historically, it is said to have meat more like wild deer than domestic lamb.

Have never actually seen one but an elderly ram was discovered in extremely poor condition a few days ago in a national forest area about sixty-five kilometres west of us.

It was unable to stand but was taken into care in the hope that it could be treated. Sadly, today the rescuers in the Cyprus Wildlife Research Institute admitted defeat. Kemal Basat said:

You work tirelessly day and night for him, but it’s never enough. You fix one problem, and another arises…Kidney failure, infection, old age, low blood counts, diarrhea, loss of appetite, liver failure, hypothermia…

There comes a point in the whole process where you realize you must proceed with science, not your emotions, and that the only thing you can do for him is to prevent him from suffering any more.



Friday, 30 January 2026

Friday, January 30/2026



 




Saharan dust at its finest in the late morning. (See earlier photo from same corner of the terrace for comparison). Bit reminiscent of Canadian forest fire smoke making its way across several provinces. Does have fine particulate matter but fortunately not the acrid smoky smell. Can no longer see the sea in the morning from our flat. Not cold, but windy.

Happily, the dust clears. Warm enough - about 17 - as we walk down to the Blue Song but we wear our windbreakers because it’s still crazy windy.

Power goes off shortly after we get home. Seems unkind to be pleased to note that the other flats in the building are in darkness as well and the streetlight outside has gone out, but it means that we have no electrical problem to deal with. It’s weather related and the municipality will see to it. As it does in an hour or so. All well.

Thursday, 29 January 2026

Thursday, January 29/2026



Bougainvillea virtually without blossoms and honeysuckle not naked, but blooms are sparse. However this morning we are greeted by a single flower on the hibiscus hedge.  Sign of spring approaching?




Larnaca municipality in the Republic of Cyprus (South) is currently taking emergency measures to avert water cuts, though they have had as much rain recently as other parts of the island. Admittedly a few rainy days don’t add up to significant water reserves but there seems always to have been some inconsistencies with regard to water use. Consumers are now going to be offered water efficient nozzles for installation on taps. Unclear whether “offered” implies that these will be provided gratis, but they will certainly be impressive if they live up to the claim - that they can reduce household consumption by up to forty percent. But it’s not simply the weasel words “ up to” that prompts my cynicism. Every hotel loo in the south has a sign on the wall asking guests to conserve water, telling them that every drop counts, but when I (more than once) conscientiously reported a dripping tap, this seemed to be of no interest at all to management. Still, maybe times are changing.



Wednesday, 28 January 2026

Wednesday, January 28/2026


Courtesy Mairead Sweeney Malone


Mairead says it looks like rain but is actually dust from the Sahara. Her photograph shows the difficulty. We’ve wondered ourselves, a bit more obvious for Mairead who lives at the bottom (southwest end) of the Karpaz peninsula and gets somewhat different weather from ours. Actually, often a little cooler, windier and wetter. She has also been receiving an unwelcome covering of dust, which we haven’t noticed here although others a little to the east of us claim to have. And there are certainly dust warnings across the island, suggesting that one refrain from the kind of exercise I’m disinclined to indulge in anyway and warning those with breathing difficulties to take precautions.