The King’s Speech, housesitting, cats and wasps

I haven’t posted in a while, so I have a lot of catching up to do.
I went to see “The King’s Speech“, the story of how Australian-born speech therapist Lionel Logue helped King George VI to find his voice. Colin Firth totally deserved the Oscar for his performance as Albert Windsor, better known as King George VI, and as “Bertie” to his intimates.
I know a bit of the history behind the story. Albert Windsor, the second son of George V, was a very shy man who stammered. After a few disastrous speaking engagements Bertie’s wife found out about Lionel Logue, an Australian emigrant to England who had had great success with his patients. Logue used a variety of techniques such as getting his clients to sing and swear to help them. He also insisted that Albert, who was a Prince, address him as an equal.
After Bertie’s father King George V died, Bertie’s older brother became King Edward VII. But Edward was in love with Wallis Simpson, an American divorcee. The Anglican Church would not accept a divorcee as queen so Edward abdicated to marry her, and Bertie, who neither expected nor wanted to be King, was forced to take the crown.
The scene from the film that most sticks in my mind is Colin Firth wearing a blue uniform, complete with badger brush, sword and medals, sitting in a meeting looking as if he feels utterly ridiculous. Firth captured Bertie’s nervousness and ill-at-ease when attention was turned on him, perfectly. There have been suggestions that Firth may be knighted. If the rumours are true, Firth richly deserves it.
My father went to ride the Argus cycle race, so I looked after my parents’ house while they were in the Cape. The house plants are still alive and the house is still standing, so I guess I did an ok job.
I live in a Complex. Recently, one of the cats decided that he likes me, and he now thinks nothing of wandering into my flat to say hello and get a stroke. It’s flattering to have a cat like me, particularly since most cats still run away when they see me even though I’ve lived here for over two years.
Finally, I have unwelcome guests in my tiny garden. A bunch of wasps set up a nest on one of my rose bushes. I notified the trustees, but nothing was done. When I asked about it, I was told that the exterminators had been called but hadn’t been able to find the nest. HUH?!! I then took the chairman of the trustees into my garden and showed him. In defence of the extermnators, the wasp nest looks like a dried up leaf. What worries me is that the gardeners might be attacked while cutting the grass, or even cleaning up the rose bush. As I write this, the nest is still there. If nothing is done by Friday evening, I will deal with it myself.

Wasp Nest

The Wasp Nest in my garden

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About autismjungle

I am a Software Test Analyst. Shortly before I turned 21 I was officially diagnosed, although I had long suspected I was autistic. Welcome to my blog
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One Response to The King’s Speech, housesitting, cats and wasps

  1. Pingback: The King’s Speech | Daniel Agnew

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