BH had to resort to dumpster diving to get a Metro, the regular supply at the entrance to he station having dried up.
Journey to Vauxhall made tiresome by our sitting across the gangway from a couple of young engineers from Atkins, one of whom complemented his sloppy, feet-up seating with rather foul language, with his conversation liberally sprinkled with expletives, rather in the way of some adolescents, which he was not. They both seemed to be very interested in questions of rank, with Atkins seeming to have a well defined grade structure, just like the military or the civil service, going on about the grades of their various colleagues until the expletives dried up when the other one got off at Wimbledon.
Journey to Oxford Circus on the tube included a young lady sitting on a mobility device. First thought was that it would take a bit of oomph to do such a thing: I would worry about get stuck somewhere without enough stair-free options. Second thought was that she was sitting on something rather like a bicycle seat, on a pole rising up from the device's platform, with no back rest or anything like that. Which I thought odd. If one was damaged enough to need to use a mobility device, would one not need a back rest too?
Uneventful picnic in Cavendish Square, although we did wonder about how they managed the interaction between the handsome mature trees above (mostly London plane) and the car park underneath. Columns of earth going down through the car park? Picnic consisting, in my case, of bread (wholemeal), cheese (Poacher), dates (Grape Tree) and water (Thames Water, now owned by I forget whom. Perhaps someone or something gulfy).
In the hall, more A4 notices stuck up, mainly white on a red ground. Someone in the front of house team has got a new printer to play with. Hopefully he or she will tire of it soon.
Small sunflowers in the hall proper, along with some white and green. BH not at all happy with the left hand version, ruling them untidy and the work of the apprentice. I thought she was being a bit harsh.
I got on well with the Schubert. To the Cock & Lion in the interval. Not to get on so well with the Dvořák after the interval, which was new to me and which seemed a bit scrappy, although BH liked it well enough. I wondered if I would have got on better had the order of service been reversed, with new Dvořák first and the better known Schubert second. I seem to have got on a bit better with the neighbouring Op.106 noticed at reference 2.
On the way home, read about a tornado in a suburb of Ottawa called Dunrobin, which inspection later revealed to be not that far from where my cousin lives in western Ottawa. Say less than ten miles. Don't get tornadoes anywhere near Epsom. See reference 4.
And as it happens, an accidental coda to the business with Sullivan, with D.804 using material from the Rosamunde noticed at reference 3.
PS: the business of the cello tail piece noticed at reference 2 is still with me. With the brain still associating to the wrong quartet (Pavel Haas) rather than the right quartet (Škampa), unconsciously making use of the unhelpful Czech connection. An error which must be firmly lodged there.
Reference 1: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/06/smith-square.html.
Reference 2: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/03/sacconi-two.html.
Reference 3: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/09/sullivan.html.
Reference 4: https://ottawacitizen.com/news/local-news/egan-after-breathtaking-tornado-dunrobin-awakens-to-prospect-of-long-slow-recovery.
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