In Which I Reveal My Face

No, I’m not laying aside the niqab (I never took it up), but I have long been in the habit of keeping my face off the great interwebs. Even back in the day when I had a Facebook account (which I closed around the time I started this blog) I didn’t show my face in my profile photo. (Faceless-book?)

Rudolf Rössler Dame mit Maske
Also not my face.
It is within the realm of possibility that some of you may remember my foray into the cashless economy some years ago, in which I knit a hat and scarf in return for a portrait to be painted. Thankfully, the portrait did not eventuate at the time, and I am now able to present a (cough) somewhat more mature face to the world. No novelty hat, for a start.

It has just occurred to me that I could have asked, for this week’s question, what you imagine I look like. And then I remembered that the vast majority of the blog’s followers at this new address are people who know me in real life anyway, and therefore they wouldn’t have to imagine.

But! “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” as Mr Darcy said when Elizabeth Bennet pointed out that “if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity.”

PrideandPrejudiceCH3detail
Those of you who know me by sight already are welcome to essay a word-portrait in the comments, should you so wish, and those of you who don’t are welcome to resort to your imaginations to furnish you with material for one.

And then you are all most welcome to visit the About page (in menu above, or click here) to see the portrait which Esther Van Kuyk has created of my very own face – positively its first appearance on this or any site!

What do you think? I like it very much, myself. Especially the eyes. I know they don’t look like they’re pointing in quite the same direction –  that’s because my eyes don’t, and I particularly requested Esther to retain that quirk of appearance. One eye is looking at you, and the other… well, to be honest, the other is probably secretly reading a book. Tolle Et Lege, after all.

Justice or Mercy? Flattery or Warts?

Have you ever had your portrait painted (or drawn, sculpted etc)? Where do you fall on the Cromwell-Hughes spectrum?

Peter Lely - Portrait of Oliver Cromwell - WGA12647
Mr. Lely, I desire you would use all your skill to paint my picture truly like me, and not flatter me at all; but remark all these roughnesses, pimples, warts, and everything as you see me, otherwise I will never pay a farthing for it.”
Oliver Cromwell


“When having my portrait painted I don’t want justice, I want mercy.”
Billy Hughes

Taking the Stairs

I’ve always liked the idea of living in a house with stairs. Not houses which require stairs to get into them – I’ve lived in plenty of those – but houses with more than one storey.

Latenium-1
Wooden stairs are ideal – none of those disturbing steel-and-glass things that show you the yawning gulf beneath your feet (and presumably allow anyone beneath to look up your skirt).

So I was delighted when we managed to buy Narrowhaven, a house which is equipped with a proper indoor stair. The stairs are of an aesthetically pleasing shiny dark wood, and are a very important part of the function of the building. Which is to say, half of the house’s six rooms are at the bottom, and half at the top, and there’s nine feet to climb between them.

Of course, nine feet is not excessive. Particularly not when you consider the staircase that goes up the side of Mt Niesen in Switzerland, which measures one and two thirds kilometres just in the verticals. Admittedly, it’s an outdoor stair, but still, 11,674 steps is a lot. I should be thankful that I have only fifteen.

Especially considering that said fifteen steps lie between the kitchen (i.e. the Source of All Tea) and the bathroom (I trust I do not need to draw you a picture).

The call of nature draws you up, and the call of a cuppa, or your book, or pottering out to the letterbox for some fresh air calls you down again.

But I am thankful for my fifteen steps, because they are one of the chief sources of exercise in my life. It doesn’t matter what the weather’s like, or how energetic I’m feeling, up and down those stairs I must go.

I took a survey across three recent days (including one when I was out for the evening) and found that on average, I go up and down the stairs ten times a day. Or rather, down and then up, considering that I start my day in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

But how often do we even consider the sterling contribution of the humble staircase? “What is a staircase, but a corridor improved by elevation?” as Catherine Gilbert Murdock wrote in Princess Ben (very readable book that, by the way).

How many other parts of your house silently and without the slightest charge provide you exercise without you even needing to think about it? No sooner had I written this than I popped upstairs again and was on the third-to-last stair down before I’d even noticed what I was doing.

While there are doubtless those for whom stairs are Not What The Doctor Ordered (e.g. those with joint problems or chronic giddiness), they should have our sympathy, and all the more so if they have stairs anyway. For when you’re just an ordinary homebody like myself, there’s nothing like a flight of stairs to keep you moving.

Note: whoever named a case of stairs a “flight” should be sat down and given a talking-to. If there is one thing you should not attempt to do when taking the stairs, it is taking flight. Happily, our stairs come with walls both sides and a handrail, so flight options are limited.
Main stair case
It’s not just the practicality, either, it’s the aesthetics. A sweep of well-swept richly glowing wooden stairs is a much more pleasant thing to look upon than An Exercise Thing for Stepping – wouldn’t you agree? And unlike the Exercise Thing, it slides all that exercise almost unnoticeably into your day.

So here’s to the stairs, the humbly serving unappreciated stairs. Give them a sweep or a vacuum and show your stairs a bit of love today.