Shipment for a Semi-Retired Researcher

There’s no such thing as a typical semi-retired researcher! But my mail this week pretty much sums up my current preoccupations:  a tripod for the Zoom 5 Handy Recorder (research) and assorted double-ended knitting needles (semi-retirement sock project)! I now have all the tech I need, both for my oral history interviews, and for learning how to knit socks.

Researchwise, I’ve designated this week, The Last Week of Procrastination. I need to  get started on my interviews – no more ‘I must just …’ prevarication. Florence Nightingale’s ‘invalid’ of last week is not technically an invalid this week; I do know how my various technical options work – why, I even have a wee tripod to help me look the part! – all that remains is to start scheduling. (This is proving easier said than done, but I’m working on it …)

Who’d have thought a tripod was such dangerous tech?!

Retirement-wise, though,  I’m not quite sure where the sock-knitting fixation came from. My feet feel the cold, true. And I need something else to do other than embroidery, at times when I find myself ‘relaxing’ in front of the TV. (Let’s just park those inverted commas for now.)

Sheer Bloody-Minded Determination

But I’ve been driving myself crazy with this knitting malarky! If only I had an amenable granny sitting beside me telling me what to do next. As it is, I’ve downloaded instructions off the internet, bought a couple of books, and sworn quite a bit  … I absolutely hate being beaten by a circular needle and a variable quantity of double-ended needles.  (Manipulating these is worse than trying to hold bagpipes.*)  I can’t admit defeat to a 4-ply woollen sock, for heaven’s sake.  I’m meant to be intelligent. As my late mother said about cookery, surely anyone who can read instructions can do this thing? 

If nothing else, it’s proof that I don’t give up easily.  In the grand scheme of things,  I made a second attempt at a PhD. On this micro level, I will work out how to knit socks.

I finally (at the fourth attempt) turned a heel, and arrived at something resembling a sock. If it’s on my foot, it’s a sock, right? Even if Kitchener Stitch is a form of torture, and the sock foot is really only just long enough.

The other one of the pair will be better. And quicker.  I’m getting there.  The BBC recently showcased research proving knitting to be good for one’s mental health.  Relaxing.  Well …

Okay, it’s a ‘neat’ fit!

*Postscript. I did give up on the bagpipes. Learning whilst completing the second PhD was really not a good idea!

Moving with the Times: from Magic Lanterns to Silent Movies

My new schedule entails thinking about an Edinburgh publisher whilst I’m in Edinburgh, and writing about various other aspects of my research on my Glasgow days.

I have an article I’m actively gearing up to write; another requiring tweaking; a couple more requested; and lastly, a new avenue for which I’ve identified a journal, but not yet completed the research. Quite a bit of writing!

But first, in the first article, we have the soprano and her repertoire.  And her ‘go-to’ encore.  And if you thought I got excited about magic lanterns – new technology for late Victorians – well, you can imagine my excitement at the thought that I may need to watch a silent film soon.

Why? A musicologist watching something in silence?  What does silence have to do with music (apart from John Cage’s 4’33”, of  course)?

You see, I think this film may have influenced her choice of encore. So, firstly, I’m awaiting an eBay copy of the novel on which the movie was based.  And then, I’m waiting to find out if I can watch the movie without leaving Scotland.

She wasn’t a film actress herself, so my whole quest is a bit tangential – I’m not thinking about nipping down to London unless it’s absolutely unavoidable. But I could  …

Meanwhile, I reflect that watching silent moving pictures must have been enormously exciting if you had grown up with the occasional magic lantern show.  And when, in due course, talkies came in … it’s hard to imagine how amazing that must have been.  Small wonder that printed music took a bit of a nosedive in the late 1920s – the options for entertainment outside the house were expanding all the time.

I’m eagerly awaiting news of my chances to watch this intriguing spectacle!