Today began with a journey to Stockwell, south of the Thames, for a meeting. At this moment this area was notable for the sad fact that here, in the Stockwell Food and Wine Shop a five year old girl become the youngest gun crime vicitim in the UK. She is still fighting for her life as I write this, having been shot by two youths who were chasing others into the shop. That this was an unintended consequence of actually targeting others, is no consolation.
Mr Ebert and I left the region after our meeting further northwards at Battersea Park Rail. We passed two iconic establishments on the way to the station.
The first was the derelict Battersea Power Station, once the largest brick built building in Europe. The iconic tall chimneys and its imposing presence still create an impact and it is to be hoped that this Grade II listed building will soon be restored.
The second memorable address was the Battersea Cats and Dogs Home, whose patrons included Queen Victoria in th past and Queen Elizabeth II in the present. Aiming to never turn away a cat or dog in need, they looked after nearly 11,000 animals in 2009.
We crossed London to Euston Rail Station, where we boarded the fast train to Stoke on Trent. As soon as the train began to accelerate , it was apparent that we were in one of the tilting "Pendolino" trains. Made to squeeze additional speed on existing lines, the tilt also aims to reduce passenger discomfort.
In an ideal setting, all the force upon the passenger's body within the train would be down the passengers verticl axis, making motion imperceptible. However, as both Mr Ebert and I could testify by closing our eyes, this is not fully the case and we could still feel the turns. Placing a pen on the table top, it rolled outwards on each turn, confriming that a lateral element of motion was still present.
We were fortunate that the rain had cleared and the train ran through green countryside in sunshine on sheep in the fields and gaily painted barges on the canal on both legs of the return journey.
Mr Ebert was also treated to the friendly hospitality of the North as we visitied another business in the prime cheese trade. A significant proportion of the visit being in a cheese tasting extravaganza of varieties brought along by Mr Ebert and some fine English cheeses.
Back in London, we had our final meal together at the end of our successful joint travels, at the Swan in Bayswater.
Thursday, 31 March 2011
Wednesday, 30 March 2011
The good, the bad and the helpful
Another opportunity to take the train to London at an uncivilised hour of the morning for a night owl, the night being much too short with only four hours sleep.
The helpful:
I met up with Mr Ebert and we traveled to the Charing Cross hotel to meet a senior cheese expert for a most informative and constructive exchange. Our guest for mid-morning tea regaled us with tales of divine Gouda, expounded on artisans working with goat's milk and the importance of rennet. A most educational and positive exchange of views over two hours.
The rest of the day was spent in peregrination from Pall Mall to Oxford Street, via Knightsbridge to Sloane Square - all in pursuit of fromagerie displays. My feet sore after eight miles on London's streets.
The bad:
Naturally, we required sustenance en-route and ventured into the small restaurant of one of the main establishments for a luncheon. Once seated, we were kept waiting and waiting and waiting, as were two other couples. I made a polite but pointed comment at the bar - and waited yet again.
My patience snapped as the lack of service was in stark contrast to the generous pricing on the menu.
Mr Ebert and I made ready to depart just as the service arrived. But it was too late for reconciliation and we deployed to a self service facility elsewhere in the building, where we obtained a more reasonably priced meal in a fraction of the time. Why does a surfeit in visitors give establishments the feeling that they can offer poor service at higher than average prices?
The good:
London Public houses however redeemed the capital, In Bayswater, The Mitre, The Swan, and regular The Victoria provided good fare, as did The Chequers near Jermyn Street (with its hand operated dumb waiter), in a manner that convinced Mr Ebert and myself that you can eat well at a reasonable price in England. A proper steak and ale pie followed by sticky toffee pudding capped the day for me.
The helpful:
I met up with Mr Ebert and we traveled to the Charing Cross hotel to meet a senior cheese expert for a most informative and constructive exchange. Our guest for mid-morning tea regaled us with tales of divine Gouda, expounded on artisans working with goat's milk and the importance of rennet. A most educational and positive exchange of views over two hours.
The rest of the day was spent in peregrination from Pall Mall to Oxford Street, via Knightsbridge to Sloane Square - all in pursuit of fromagerie displays. My feet sore after eight miles on London's streets.
The bad:
Naturally, we required sustenance en-route and ventured into the small restaurant of one of the main establishments for a luncheon. Once seated, we were kept waiting and waiting and waiting, as were two other couples. I made a polite but pointed comment at the bar - and waited yet again.
My patience snapped as the lack of service was in stark contrast to the generous pricing on the menu.
Mr Ebert and I made ready to depart just as the service arrived. But it was too late for reconciliation and we deployed to a self service facility elsewhere in the building, where we obtained a more reasonably priced meal in a fraction of the time. Why does a surfeit in visitors give establishments the feeling that they can offer poor service at higher than average prices?
The good:
London Public houses however redeemed the capital, In Bayswater, The Mitre, The Swan, and regular The Victoria provided good fare, as did The Chequers near Jermyn Street (with its hand operated dumb waiter), in a manner that convinced Mr Ebert and myself that you can eat well at a reasonable price in England. A proper steak and ale pie followed by sticky toffee pudding capped the day for me.
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
Sites of cheese heaven in London
Today was a day that would have inspired Wallace and Grommit! Mr Ebert and I visited purveyors of the finest cheeses in London.
We first found the International Cheese Centre in the West Mall of Liverpool Street Station, upon the recommendation of Mrs Green. Scattered columns of hard cheeses, tiers of soft wedges, shades from autumnal reds to gold and cream. Do not be daunted by the variety, look out for the availability samples for a mere pound, or ask for advice on flavour or complementarity to your intended use; the Proprietor, Mr Kenny, has acquired decades of experience in cheeses from Great Britain and abroad.
Paxton and Whitfield are situated in Jermyn Street in the heart of the City'squality establishments. Crossing the threshold, one is struck by two things, the rich, musty, mouthwatering smell of cheese, and a sudden dip in room temperature. There are shelves of goat cheeses, Rounds of cheddars, Red Leicester and Stiltons from British artisan cheese-makers, rich and multihued samples from abroad spread across the main table and cheese related accessories and books compliment the display. Again, the staff are well versed in cheese and it is a pleasure to browse until seduced to a purchase.
I came back with a small, rich crumbly-creamy Stilton and a slice of artisan Red Leicester, so different and alive from the supermarket fare.
We first found the International Cheese Centre in the West Mall of Liverpool Street Station, upon the recommendation of Mrs Green. Scattered columns of hard cheeses, tiers of soft wedges, shades from autumnal reds to gold and cream. Do not be daunted by the variety, look out for the availability samples for a mere pound, or ask for advice on flavour or complementarity to your intended use; the Proprietor, Mr Kenny, has acquired decades of experience in cheeses from Great Britain and abroad.
Paxton and Whitfield are situated in Jermyn Street in the heart of the City'squality establishments. Crossing the threshold, one is struck by two things, the rich, musty, mouthwatering smell of cheese, and a sudden dip in room temperature. There are shelves of goat cheeses, Rounds of cheddars, Red Leicester and Stiltons from British artisan cheese-makers, rich and multihued samples from abroad spread across the main table and cheese related accessories and books compliment the display. Again, the staff are well versed in cheese and it is a pleasure to browse until seduced to a purchase.
I came back with a small, rich crumbly-creamy Stilton and a slice of artisan Red Leicester, so different and alive from the supermarket fare.
Monday, 28 March 2011
Goats cheese, sunflower seeds and HMS Belfast
Took the Stagecoach to Luton Airport to meet with Mr Ebert of Feinkaeserei Zimmermann, with a coolbag of his gourmet goat's cheeses, previously delivered to me by Mrs Green. We the continued the journey to London together by train.
Cheese safely ensconced in the hotel fridge and a day without appointments, we travelled to St Pauls by Underground and then walked over the Millennium Bridge to the Tate Modern, to view the exhibit by Mr Weiwei. We encountered a vast expanse of individually painted sunflower seeds. The initial uniformity resolved into subtle detail, with the indentation left by the occasional footstep suggesting the crushing of small groups of individuals in a vast population.
Onward then to visit HMS Belfast, the museum Royal Navy Light Cruiser on the Thames near Tower Bridge. It's guns trained on London Gateway Services 12.5 miles away, it afforde a couple of hours of clambering up and down narrow stairs and exploring the labyrinthine interior.
We then returned to The Victoria public house in Bayswater where Mr Ebert had his first ever fish and chips, which he pronounced fine fare.
Cheese safely ensconced in the hotel fridge and a day without appointments, we travelled to St Pauls by Underground and then walked over the Millennium Bridge to the Tate Modern, to view the exhibit by Mr Weiwei. We encountered a vast expanse of individually painted sunflower seeds. The initial uniformity resolved into subtle detail, with the indentation left by the occasional footstep suggesting the crushing of small groups of individuals in a vast population.
Onward then to visit HMS Belfast, the museum Royal Navy Light Cruiser on the Thames near Tower Bridge. It's guns trained on London Gateway Services 12.5 miles away, it afforde a couple of hours of clambering up and down narrow stairs and exploring the labyrinthine interior.
We then returned to The Victoria public house in Bayswater where Mr Ebert had his first ever fish and chips, which he pronounced fine fare.
Sunday, 27 March 2011
A day of one and two dimensional codes, and a Japanese Tsunami
Mr McArthur's book, Ka Sefofane (By Aeroplane) is nearing completion and required the transmogrification of a human readable International Standard Book Number (ISBN) into a machine readable bar code.
My graphics software permitted the generation of the old 9 digit code, but I required the newer 13 digit conversion. I was in danger of removing the last of my hair from my already depleted scalp, till I discovered the publication online "ISBN for Dummies". My problem was resolved in an instant as I was informed that the 13 digit ISBN barcode is actually an EAN (originally "European Article Number", now International Article Number but with the old abbreviation retained). This my graphics program could produce with alacrity. Hurrah!
The afternoon was still concerned with design, namely two banners for the Huntingdonshire Business Network. One was completed readily enough and the second provided entertainment as I tried another sort of code.
We at HBN have adopted the use of the two dimensional QR codes as a tool for linking a printed code to a digital link - to an internet site or to provide an address to a mobile phone.
My time was taken up with using a large QR code directing viewers to the HBN website. The challenge was to embed 12 company QR codes into the pattern of the larger. Seen from a distance, the mobile device could recognise the link to HBN, close up, the mobile could pursue the individual company links. The challenge.
This task took several hours but had a most satisfactory outcome and can be viewed here. The image is within a larger album which also includes instructions on how to obtain the application for one's own mobile device.
The evening's news included an item about a new impending Tsunami of the coast of Japan, but with little initial information. A search immediately revealed the extremely useful site Tsunami Warnings/Advisories from the Japan Meteorological Agency. Here I discovered that the earthquake was shallow and of a 6.5 magnitude according to the Richter scale, with a 0.5m Tsunami expected by 7:50 am Japanese Time, circa half an hour ahead of my search time. Fortunately the deadline passed without negative consequences to the already battered coast.
My graphics software permitted the generation of the old 9 digit code, but I required the newer 13 digit conversion. I was in danger of removing the last of my hair from my already depleted scalp, till I discovered the publication online "ISBN for Dummies". My problem was resolved in an instant as I was informed that the 13 digit ISBN barcode is actually an EAN (originally "European Article Number", now International Article Number but with the old abbreviation retained). This my graphics program could produce with alacrity. Hurrah!
The afternoon was still concerned with design, namely two banners for the Huntingdonshire Business Network. One was completed readily enough and the second provided entertainment as I tried another sort of code.
We at HBN have adopted the use of the two dimensional QR codes as a tool for linking a printed code to a digital link - to an internet site or to provide an address to a mobile phone.
My time was taken up with using a large QR code directing viewers to the HBN website. The challenge was to embed 12 company QR codes into the pattern of the larger. Seen from a distance, the mobile device could recognise the link to HBN, close up, the mobile could pursue the individual company links. The challenge.
This task took several hours but had a most satisfactory outcome and can be viewed here. The image is within a larger album which also includes instructions on how to obtain the application for one's own mobile device.
The evening's news included an item about a new impending Tsunami of the coast of Japan, but with little initial information. A search immediately revealed the extremely useful site Tsunami Warnings/Advisories from the Japan Meteorological Agency. Here I discovered that the earthquake was shallow and of a 6.5 magnitude according to the Richter scale, with a 0.5m Tsunami expected by 7:50 am Japanese Time, circa half an hour ahead of my search time. Fortunately the deadline passed without negative consequences to the already battered coast.
Saturday, 26 March 2011
Magnolia petals and london riots
A domestic beginning, with shopping and mowing the lawn the mundane order of the day.
A neighbour as a magnolia tree that is beginning to bloom, its inflorescences of white chalices delicately tinged with pink. According to Mrs Kabitzsch, their petals are edible and this initiated a minor culinary experiment with one of her recipes - sugared flowers.
The procedure is remarkably simple; the petals are brushed lightly with egg white and then liberally dusted with sugar crystals. The excess sugar is shaken of and the petals are then arrayed upon a wire tray in a warm kitchen to dry until set hard. No sooner said than done on three magnolia flowers harvested with the neighbour's permission.
As I write, I could not resist testing one of the still drying petals - a slight crunch, then a delicate sweet flowery flavour lingering on the palate!
Todays news was completely dominated by the protest march in London against the financial cuts imposed upon the country in the Tory austerity program. More than two hundred and fifty thousand people descended on London for a giant peaceful, if vocal, demonstration that began at the Embankment and ended at Hyde Park.
Unfortunately the major event was overshadowed by a small breakaway group of organised rebels. Initially peaceable, they began damaging shops and matters came to a head when they arrived in Trafalgar Square, where major tussles with the police ensued.
The pictures spoke for themselves, pointing largely to the confrontation and damage being initiated by the breakaway group. This contrasted markedly with the spin that various interviewed members of the group attempted to give, shifting the blame to the police. This situation was so reminiscent of the statements by Colonel Gaddafi in the current Libyan conflict, where again the visible evidence did not match the rhetoric.
Cambridge's sorry defeat in the boat race by several lengths was mercifully pushed to the back of the news.
A neighbour as a magnolia tree that is beginning to bloom, its inflorescences of white chalices delicately tinged with pink. According to Mrs Kabitzsch, their petals are edible and this initiated a minor culinary experiment with one of her recipes - sugared flowers.
The procedure is remarkably simple; the petals are brushed lightly with egg white and then liberally dusted with sugar crystals. The excess sugar is shaken of and the petals are then arrayed upon a wire tray in a warm kitchen to dry until set hard. No sooner said than done on three magnolia flowers harvested with the neighbour's permission.
As I write, I could not resist testing one of the still drying petals - a slight crunch, then a delicate sweet flowery flavour lingering on the palate!
Todays news was completely dominated by the protest march in London against the financial cuts imposed upon the country in the Tory austerity program. More than two hundred and fifty thousand people descended on London for a giant peaceful, if vocal, demonstration that began at the Embankment and ended at Hyde Park.
Unfortunately the major event was overshadowed by a small breakaway group of organised rebels. Initially peaceable, they began damaging shops and matters came to a head when they arrived in Trafalgar Square, where major tussles with the police ensued.
The pictures spoke for themselves, pointing largely to the confrontation and damage being initiated by the breakaway group. This contrasted markedly with the spin that various interviewed members of the group attempted to give, shifting the blame to the police. This situation was so reminiscent of the statements by Colonel Gaddafi in the current Libyan conflict, where again the visible evidence did not match the rhetoric.
Cambridge's sorry defeat in the boat race by several lengths was mercifully pushed to the back of the news.
Friday, 25 March 2011
Battling with Word, Klimt and dismantled laptops
Set out early to Great Chesterford today, to meet Mr Ward for a conversation on finance and the opportunities for horticulture in the current clement weather. The journey there notable for a slight jostle between my vehicle and another on the packed highway, with no damage ensuing, thank heavens.
A brief return home for a conversation with Mr McArthur, via telephone and with the assistance of Skype. We were mightily challenged by a trivial matter; persuading Microsoft Word to commence page numbering according to our desires. As usual with any computational problem with a supposedly time saving device, it took more time, nearly an hour, to find a solution of cunning and subterfuge to achieve our goal.
Thence to Huntingdon where the Huntingdonshire Business Network meeting was well attended and in very good humour. Mr Cartwright was in particularly fine form, evincing laughter through his presentation on all things storage in the gravelly voiced vein of an American television presenter.
Afterwards, in the Bowls Club bar, I stayed awhile with Ms Ekblom and Mr Wishart in pleasant conversation. There I also found a pleasing jigsaw puzzle in the form of a circle representing a compass for Mrs T. Prominent amongst the books on sale was a small illustrated volume on the artist Gustav Klimt. At £1 this was a gem not to be missed and it afforded both an education in his rich use of colour and pattern, as well as in the sensual depiction of the female form.
Most will be familiar with his painting "The Kiss". The revelation for me was his mastery of realism in the classical sense during his early years, which carried over into the beautifully rendered faces and hands of later portraits that otherwise displayed the rich use of colour and gold in abstract patterns. Sadly, a number of his works were deliberately destroyed near the end of the Second World War, as described in an article here.
The last appointment of the day was at Mr Beal's in Over, with Mrs Farndale. Our progress on Tutorcloud was delayed by a diversion into the dismantling of the very laptop upon which I currently write, to clean out the fan and marvel at the technology packed into the slim interior. Mr Beal's supervision and experience giving me the confidence to attempt most of the work myself.
A brief return home for a conversation with Mr McArthur, via telephone and with the assistance of Skype. We were mightily challenged by a trivial matter; persuading Microsoft Word to commence page numbering according to our desires. As usual with any computational problem with a supposedly time saving device, it took more time, nearly an hour, to find a solution of cunning and subterfuge to achieve our goal.
Thence to Huntingdon where the Huntingdonshire Business Network meeting was well attended and in very good humour. Mr Cartwright was in particularly fine form, evincing laughter through his presentation on all things storage in the gravelly voiced vein of an American television presenter.
Afterwards, in the Bowls Club bar, I stayed awhile with Ms Ekblom and Mr Wishart in pleasant conversation. There I also found a pleasing jigsaw puzzle in the form of a circle representing a compass for Mrs T. Prominent amongst the books on sale was a small illustrated volume on the artist Gustav Klimt. At £1 this was a gem not to be missed and it afforded both an education in his rich use of colour and pattern, as well as in the sensual depiction of the female form.
Most will be familiar with his painting "The Kiss". The revelation for me was his mastery of realism in the classical sense during his early years, which carried over into the beautifully rendered faces and hands of later portraits that otherwise displayed the rich use of colour and gold in abstract patterns. Sadly, a number of his works were deliberately destroyed near the end of the Second World War, as described in an article here.
The last appointment of the day was at Mr Beal's in Over, with Mrs Farndale. Our progress on Tutorcloud was delayed by a diversion into the dismantling of the very laptop upon which I currently write, to clean out the fan and marvel at the technology packed into the slim interior. Mr Beal's supervision and experience giving me the confidence to attempt most of the work myself.
Thursday, 24 March 2011
Fruit Wines, Cheese, and radioactivity
Autumn Fire, Dream Trove,a Shadow Knight and an Ice Maiden. These are not a Summer Dream but the translations of some of the German names of luxurious Fruit wines produced by Bestwinus. Mr Scholz and I were attempting to find English equivalents to German word play of his intriguing products!
This conversation paralleled another, relating to Mr Ebert who will be visiting the UK next week, namely on the safe passage of German cheese samples across the Channel and their subsequent handover to me for transport to London.
Food related questions also arose in another context, namely the continued nuclear power plant disaster at Fukushima. It does appear that a considerable amount of radioactive material was ejected, with quoted figures for released material ranging from somewhat more than the Windscale accident to half that of Chernobyl. However, most of the ejected material spread in an ever diluted plume seawards, the dilution being such that its hazard faded into insignificance. There has been a deposition of radioisotopes in the vicinity of the accident site.
The radio-isotopes released and detected are Cesium 137, with a half life of 30 yrs, and Iodine 131, with a half life of 8 days. Both isotopes are eminently detectable by virtue of their emitted radiation, hence the detection of levels now just above the set safe consumption limits in drinking water in Tokyo. The health risks are still infinitesimal, but the precautionary principle prevails, as it should.
It took an hours search through literature and educated sites on the internet to gain a better understanding of the relationship between the measured radioactivity in Becquerels and effective dose in milli- or micro- Sieverts. Two useful sources for the interested reader are the balanced expert comments on the New Zealand Science Media Centre and the dose coefficient chart for different isotopes by the European Nuclear Society.
This conversation paralleled another, relating to Mr Ebert who will be visiting the UK next week, namely on the safe passage of German cheese samples across the Channel and their subsequent handover to me for transport to London.
Food related questions also arose in another context, namely the continued nuclear power plant disaster at Fukushima. It does appear that a considerable amount of radioactive material was ejected, with quoted figures for released material ranging from somewhat more than the Windscale accident to half that of Chernobyl. However, most of the ejected material spread in an ever diluted plume seawards, the dilution being such that its hazard faded into insignificance. There has been a deposition of radioisotopes in the vicinity of the accident site.
The radio-isotopes released and detected are Cesium 137, with a half life of 30 yrs, and Iodine 131, with a half life of 8 days. Both isotopes are eminently detectable by virtue of their emitted radiation, hence the detection of levels now just above the set safe consumption limits in drinking water in Tokyo. The health risks are still infinitesimal, but the precautionary principle prevails, as it should.
It took an hours search through literature and educated sites on the internet to gain a better understanding of the relationship between the measured radioactivity in Becquerels and effective dose in milli- or micro- Sieverts. Two useful sources for the interested reader are the balanced expert comments on the New Zealand Science Media Centre and the dose coefficient chart for different isotopes by the European Nuclear Society.
Wednesday, 23 March 2011
Potholes, pride and blossom
Our close was visited today by an industrious team of pothole repairmen. Curiosity drove me to draw closer to the scene, taking a meandering route down our road to avoid the growing cavities. There was tut-tutting at the poor previous repairs and the parlous state of the general road structure. Five holes were to be repaired, but where to begin amongst the many.
Commiserations shared on the forlorn nature of the task, I returned to work.
Emerging more than an hour later to take a constitutional walk to the medical practitioners, I found the team still at work. A series of neatly cut and filled holes marked the road, well in excess of the five intended. Two of the last excavated holes showed a cross-section of our road where it's thin and fragile tarmacadam layer was only too readily apparent.
Yet there was a pride in the team, aiming to do their work well, even if conditions conspired against them and the only real solution would be to strip the road surface and lay a new, more substantial road.
Mr Straus called by and I invited him to the Cafe Diem in the Milton Country Park for a light luncheon on the Cafe balcony as this was truly a balmy day. Refreshed and replete, he departed for Corby and I made my way back through the park.
The velvety soft pussy willows were emerging and leaf buds were starting to open. Scattered through out the park were Hawthorns with their white flowers flushed into full bloom, radiant in the sunshine. I took the opportunity to take some photographs, aiming to capture the blossom on individual branches as studies for later practice in the art of Chinese brush painting.
This evening's news dominated by the radical budget that promised to encourage small businesses (Hurrah!) and by the sad news that one of the last remaining screen idols from the Golden Age of Cinema, Elizabeth Taylor, had passed away.
The days birdwatch at the feeder had bagged a lower count than yesterday, perhaps because of the sunshine.
Commiserations shared on the forlorn nature of the task, I returned to work.
Emerging more than an hour later to take a constitutional walk to the medical practitioners, I found the team still at work. A series of neatly cut and filled holes marked the road, well in excess of the five intended. Two of the last excavated holes showed a cross-section of our road where it's thin and fragile tarmacadam layer was only too readily apparent.
Yet there was a pride in the team, aiming to do their work well, even if conditions conspired against them and the only real solution would be to strip the road surface and lay a new, more substantial road.
Mr Straus called by and I invited him to the Cafe Diem in the Milton Country Park for a light luncheon on the Cafe balcony as this was truly a balmy day. Refreshed and replete, he departed for Corby and I made my way back through the park.
The velvety soft pussy willows were emerging and leaf buds were starting to open. Scattered through out the park were Hawthorns with their white flowers flushed into full bloom, radiant in the sunshine. I took the opportunity to take some photographs, aiming to capture the blossom on individual branches as studies for later practice in the art of Chinese brush painting.
This evening's news dominated by the radical budget that promised to encourage small businesses (Hurrah!) and by the sad news that one of the last remaining screen idols from the Golden Age of Cinema, Elizabeth Taylor, had passed away.
The days birdwatch at the feeder had bagged a lower count than yesterday, perhaps because of the sunshine.
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
Work, Birds and Sherlock Holmes
The day was spent in mundane research at the computer. In part I was following up contacts made at the IFE last week. The remaining proportion investigated the companies at Smithfield Market.
This venerable building is on the Saxon Smeeth Felde (Smooth Field), which has been a Market place since at least 1174 and, more gruesomely, was the site where 200 martyrs were burnt at the stake during the turbulent years of bloody Queen Mary's backlash against the new protestantism.
Whist accessible to the public, the intrepid visitor should be forewarned to attend between 4am and 8am in the morning when trading is underway as the building is practically deserted and inaccessible at more civilised hours.
My investigation into feathered visitors to our modest bird feeder continued by initiating half hour recordings through out the day on the camcorder. An evening perusal at fast forward found Dunnock, House Sparrow and Chaffinch as the main visitors. I hope to continue the process tomorrow as a minor diversion from the drudge of keyboard and screen.
The evening's entertainment consisted of watching the picture show "Sherlock Holmes", which I had purchased last week. It was most entertaining. I was concerned that the portrayed Mr Holmes may have been regressing into the more spiritualistic mumbo-jumbo of his original creator. Yet clear and incisive logic cut through to the solution at the end of the film, as often in the excellent short stories by Mr Conan Doyle.
Took a step outside to view the gibbous moon as clouds scurried in. Birdsong had already begun, yet it was not more than half past two in the morning.
This venerable building is on the Saxon Smeeth Felde (Smooth Field), which has been a Market place since at least 1174 and, more gruesomely, was the site where 200 martyrs were burnt at the stake during the turbulent years of bloody Queen Mary's backlash against the new protestantism.
Whist accessible to the public, the intrepid visitor should be forewarned to attend between 4am and 8am in the morning when trading is underway as the building is practically deserted and inaccessible at more civilised hours.
My investigation into feathered visitors to our modest bird feeder continued by initiating half hour recordings through out the day on the camcorder. An evening perusal at fast forward found Dunnock, House Sparrow and Chaffinch as the main visitors. I hope to continue the process tomorrow as a minor diversion from the drudge of keyboard and screen.
The evening's entertainment consisted of watching the picture show "Sherlock Holmes", which I had purchased last week. It was most entertaining. I was concerned that the portrayed Mr Holmes may have been regressing into the more spiritualistic mumbo-jumbo of his original creator. Yet clear and incisive logic cut through to the solution at the end of the film, as often in the excellent short stories by Mr Conan Doyle.
Took a step outside to view the gibbous moon as clouds scurried in. Birdsong had already begun, yet it was not more than half past two in the morning.
Monday, 21 March 2011
Mail, books and birds
The penalty of being in this interconnected society is the rapidly accruing digital mail, so the morning was spent separating the wheat from the chaff in the past week's accumulated deliveries.
After a luncheon of oxtail soup and mixed vegetables, attention was directed to Mr McArthur's manuscript which, in its third draft, is now nearing a satisfactory completion.
A parallel activity arose from the lunchtime observation of birds on our small bird feeder. Over the past week, feed consumption has increased dramatically. I therefore retrieved my small camcorder from the debris of my office and set it up to record visits to the bird feeder in half hour recording scenes.
This seemed to result in an immediate stage-fright as I saw no birds at the feeder from thereon! However, replaying the recordings on fast-forward revealed that 8 visits had taken place, including a robin, dunnock, sparrow and great-tit.
The Libya situation continues to dominate the news, with reports from demonstrations in Yemen coming to the fore. The media are currently quiet on the situation in Bahrain.
The media word of the day is "bamboozled", used in relation to how customers of the main energy companies feel when trying to compare energy prices between the different providers!
After a luncheon of oxtail soup and mixed vegetables, attention was directed to Mr McArthur's manuscript which, in its third draft, is now nearing a satisfactory completion.
A parallel activity arose from the lunchtime observation of birds on our small bird feeder. Over the past week, feed consumption has increased dramatically. I therefore retrieved my small camcorder from the debris of my office and set it up to record visits to the bird feeder in half hour recording scenes.
This seemed to result in an immediate stage-fright as I saw no birds at the feeder from thereon! However, replaying the recordings on fast-forward revealed that 8 visits had taken place, including a robin, dunnock, sparrow and great-tit.
The Libya situation continues to dominate the news, with reports from demonstrations in Yemen coming to the fore. The media are currently quiet on the situation in Bahrain.
The media word of the day is "bamboozled", used in relation to how customers of the main energy companies feel when trying to compare energy prices between the different providers!
Sunday, 20 March 2011
Tomahawks, tornadoes and the inadvisability of shooting into the air
After a week of continuous activity and little sleep, lassitude descended this Sunday, resulting in an indolent day watching the imposition of the Libyan no-fly zone by the French, British and United States and other allies under UN Special Resolution 1973.
As the reports on the BBC News channel cycled through a limited set of facts, my curiosity was aroused about the missiles and jet aeroplanes used.
Missiles
The inadvisability of shooting into the air
The other recurrent image upon our television screens was the celebratory firing of guns into the air. A contemplation on the ubiquity of earthly gravity rapidly leads one to the inevitable conclusion that what goes up, must also come down. Indeed the likelihood of fatal injury from such a falling bullet lies at 32%, which is five-fold higher than being intentionally fired upon in the conventional way, due to the near vertical descent of the impacting missile at high speed, often upon the skull.
My thoughts then migrated to the possible distance that the bullet might travel in such instances and I naively perused the internet for a simple answer. Alas, the Wikipedia article on External Ballistics rapidly dispelled this misconception as the number of factors that need to be taken into consideration include:
As the reports on the BBC News channel cycled through a limited set of facts, my curiosity was aroused about the missiles and jet aeroplanes used.
Missiles
- 124 Tomahawk missiles were fired by U.S. and British forces against at least 20 Libyan targets around Tripoli and Misrata. The missile has been in service in a variety of forms and capabilities since 1983.
- France: Dassault Rafale; a twin engined multi-role jet fighter aircraft that was introduced in 2000
- United Kingdom:
- Panavia Tornado GR4. The Tornado first entered service in 1979, the current GR4s are presumably from the Mid-Life Upgrade, seeing first service in 1998.
- Eurofighter Typhoon. Maiden flight in 1994.
- United States of America:
- Northrup Grumman B-2 Spirit (also known as the Stealth Bomber). Originally designed for the 1980s. Only 20 aircraft exist.
- Air Force F-15 Eagle. A twin engined tactical fighter who's first version flew in 1972 and with current models expected to be in service till 2025.
- Air Force F-16. Entered operational service in 1980.
- Navy Boeing EA-18G Growler. A carrier based aircraft with electronic warfare capability.
- Marine AV-8B Harrier. produced from 1969 onwards, the last re-manufactured Harrier was delivered in 2003.
The inadvisability of shooting into the air
The other recurrent image upon our television screens was the celebratory firing of guns into the air. A contemplation on the ubiquity of earthly gravity rapidly leads one to the inevitable conclusion that what goes up, must also come down. Indeed the likelihood of fatal injury from such a falling bullet lies at 32%, which is five-fold higher than being intentionally fired upon in the conventional way, due to the near vertical descent of the impacting missile at high speed, often upon the skull.
My thoughts then migrated to the possible distance that the bullet might travel in such instances and I naively perused the internet for a simple answer. Alas, the Wikipedia article on External Ballistics rapidly dispelled this misconception as the number of factors that need to be taken into consideration include:
- Bullet Drop
- Drag resistance
- Wind
- Vertical angles
- Ambient Air density
- Gyroscopic drift
- Magnus effect
- Coriolis drift
- Poisson effect
- Lateral jump
- Lateral throw-off
Saturday, 19 March 2011
A cross-cultural anniversary celebration
Today, Mrs T and I attended the joyous Silver Anniversary celebration of Dr & Mrs O in one of the Cambridge colleges. It was remarkable for bridging two faiths and two cultures.
The journey thither was graced by the avenue of flowering cherry trees, buds bursting into bloom in the sudden warmth of the day after the bitter cold of the past week. It reminded me of Sei Shonagons Pillow Book entry from over a millennium ago:
"It is a great pleasure to break off a long, beautiful branch from a cherry tree and to arrange it in a large vase. What a delightful task it is to perform when a visitor nearby is conversing!"
The anniversary celebration began with a Service of Blessing in the College chapel, officiated in tandem by both a Catholic priest and a Lutheran minister. They alternated in good humour and also between Hymns and lessons in English and German. Indeed, for one hymn, "Ich Lobe Meinen Gott", we first sang in German and then in English, whilst for the last "Now thank we all our God", the congregation was directed to sing in their preferred tongue, the result being counter-intuitively more musical than cacophonous.
Following the postlude, we migrated to a college meeting room. The full moon loomed large upon us during the procession, this being the first Perigee Moon for twenty years, thus presenting a face some fourteen percent larger than when viewed during the lunar apogee.
Circulating amongst the cosmopolitan guests, conversation ranged from experience with the test firings of the Arianne rocket engines to the development of novel beverages. Time passed quickly in pleasant diversion.
Strolling back to our automobile, we looked up again at the swollen moon as it illuminated the contrails of six jet aircraft coming from several locations into one formation. Their diminishing roar suggested at a continued voyage together, perhaps to the new conflict in Libya.
The journey thither was graced by the avenue of flowering cherry trees, buds bursting into bloom in the sudden warmth of the day after the bitter cold of the past week. It reminded me of Sei Shonagons Pillow Book entry from over a millennium ago:
"It is a great pleasure to break off a long, beautiful branch from a cherry tree and to arrange it in a large vase. What a delightful task it is to perform when a visitor nearby is conversing!"
The anniversary celebration began with a Service of Blessing in the College chapel, officiated in tandem by both a Catholic priest and a Lutheran minister. They alternated in good humour and also between Hymns and lessons in English and German. Indeed, for one hymn, "Ich Lobe Meinen Gott", we first sang in German and then in English, whilst for the last "Now thank we all our God", the congregation was directed to sing in their preferred tongue, the result being counter-intuitively more musical than cacophonous.
Following the postlude, we migrated to a college meeting room. The full moon loomed large upon us during the procession, this being the first Perigee Moon for twenty years, thus presenting a face some fourteen percent larger than when viewed during the lunar apogee.
Circulating amongst the cosmopolitan guests, conversation ranged from experience with the test firings of the Arianne rocket engines to the development of novel beverages. Time passed quickly in pleasant diversion.
Strolling back to our automobile, we looked up again at the swollen moon as it illuminated the contrails of six jet aircraft coming from several locations into one formation. Their diminishing roar suggested at a continued voyage together, perhaps to the new conflict in Libya.
Friday, 18 March 2011
Unusual weaponry and red noses
Ventured eastwards to Huntingdon, to meet friends at the Huntingdonshire Business Network. It felt like wading through the white foaming sea in the packed Indoor Bowls Club to reach our meeting room as local teams were in heated battle on the carpets.
Business at the Committee Meeting was less onerous than usual and speedily completed, permitting a more relaxing subsequent networking meeting
A long absent colleague, Mr Christie, made a welcome appearance, bearing a large misshapen sack that aroused curiosity. When it's contents were revealed, and in conjunction with Mr Christie's paramilitary attire, my first thought was that the oft presaged revolution had finally arrived, as a veritable arsenal of modern weaponry was exposed. Latent republican tendencies were stillborn as it became apparent that these were remarkable accurate facsimiles. Capable of firing pellets, these are for sportly skirmishes by those of a more excitable disposition.
The weapons were disturbingly alluring; the weight of the SIG 226 pistol in the hand had a seductive, sinister quality. Looking across at Mr Williamson, a master of drafting the last Will and Testament for his clients, his thoughtful gaze at the Magful Masada carbine intimated contemplations of a more terminal marketing strategy.
Lighter relief was afforded by Mr Straus, who displayed his choice selection of wines, beer and cider, all bearing the labels designed by me, with constructive contributions from a previous HBN meeting.
After HBN, I braved the highway again to travel to Over, to meet with Mr Beal, Mrs Farndale and Mrs Heeneman. to work on our Tutorcloud project.
I returned home in darkness, to spend the evening entertained by the Red Nose Day television broadcast. Highlight for me was the melodious interpretation of "I know him so well" in a duet by Mrs Boyle and Mr Kay, the latter droll in the role of a woman, yet a pleasant alto voice.
Business at the Committee Meeting was less onerous than usual and speedily completed, permitting a more relaxing subsequent networking meeting
A long absent colleague, Mr Christie, made a welcome appearance, bearing a large misshapen sack that aroused curiosity. When it's contents were revealed, and in conjunction with Mr Christie's paramilitary attire, my first thought was that the oft presaged revolution had finally arrived, as a veritable arsenal of modern weaponry was exposed. Latent republican tendencies were stillborn as it became apparent that these were remarkable accurate facsimiles. Capable of firing pellets, these are for sportly skirmishes by those of a more excitable disposition.
The weapons were disturbingly alluring; the weight of the SIG 226 pistol in the hand had a seductive, sinister quality. Looking across at Mr Williamson, a master of drafting the last Will and Testament for his clients, his thoughtful gaze at the Magful Masada carbine intimated contemplations of a more terminal marketing strategy.
Lighter relief was afforded by Mr Straus, who displayed his choice selection of wines, beer and cider, all bearing the labels designed by me, with constructive contributions from a previous HBN meeting.
After HBN, I braved the highway again to travel to Over, to meet with Mr Beal, Mrs Farndale and Mrs Heeneman. to work on our Tutorcloud project.
I returned home in darkness, to spend the evening entertained by the Red Nose Day television broadcast. Highlight for me was the melodious interpretation of "I know him so well" in a duet by Mrs Boyle and Mr Kay, the latter droll in the role of a woman, yet a pleasant alto voice.
Thursday, 17 March 2011
Misprints and the psychology of colour
My good friend Mr Straus was somewhat perturbed to find that a misprint on his new business card proof had transformed him from a Wine Trainer to a Wine Strainer. Since he was bereft of any facial hair to perform any such filtration, I considered his remonstration fair and implemented the correction forthwith.
The afternoon digressed into an investigation into the values ascribed to different colours. This was prompted by an observation by my now departed German guests, when perusing the bountiful wares in large shopping establishments, about the preponderance of stygian shades in products labels. It appears that black with gold or silver lettering is efficacious in conveying the impression of quality, whilst bright red and expanses of white are more suggestive of products at the lower end of the price spectrum.
Whilst we dine in relative comfort within our homes, the situation in Japan appears to be deteriorating with poor weather and problems in the distribution of food. Current figures deaths due to the catastrophes now exceed 15,000.
The media focus still remains on the Fukushima reactors and the hyperbole has led to the begin of migration out of the unaffected city of Tokyo, many miles to the south, and an exodus of foreigners. A Russian expert commenting to Reuters believed that, in the absence of combustible graphite rods in these nuclear reactors, there was not a risk of a Chernobyl like incident. What was needed was a restoration of power to the reactor cooling pumps.
The United Nations reach an unexpected agreement in passing a resolution permitting the implementation of a no-fly zone in Libya and an immediate cessation of hostilities. It remains to be seen whether it has arrived too late to assist the popular uprising now almost restricted to Benghazi.
In contrast, there is a muted western response to the suppression of the uprising in Bahrain with troops from Saudi Arabia.
The afternoon digressed into an investigation into the values ascribed to different colours. This was prompted by an observation by my now departed German guests, when perusing the bountiful wares in large shopping establishments, about the preponderance of stygian shades in products labels. It appears that black with gold or silver lettering is efficacious in conveying the impression of quality, whilst bright red and expanses of white are more suggestive of products at the lower end of the price spectrum.
Whilst we dine in relative comfort within our homes, the situation in Japan appears to be deteriorating with poor weather and problems in the distribution of food. Current figures deaths due to the catastrophes now exceed 15,000.
The media focus still remains on the Fukushima reactors and the hyperbole has led to the begin of migration out of the unaffected city of Tokyo, many miles to the south, and an exodus of foreigners. A Russian expert commenting to Reuters believed that, in the absence of combustible graphite rods in these nuclear reactors, there was not a risk of a Chernobyl like incident. What was needed was a restoration of power to the reactor cooling pumps.
The United Nations reach an unexpected agreement in passing a resolution permitting the implementation of a no-fly zone in Libya and an immediate cessation of hostilities. It remains to be seen whether it has arrived too late to assist the popular uprising now almost restricted to Benghazi.
In contrast, there is a muted western response to the suppression of the uprising in Bahrain with troops from Saudi Arabia.
Wednesday, 16 March 2011
A grey day and the beneficial effects of Jalapeño
It was indubitably a day that matched the grey clammy skies and penetrating bitter wind. Our spirits hit a mid-morning low in the surreal surroundings of the Butcher's Hook and Cleaver public house. A closed Underground destination; arriving three hours after the close of Smithfields market; promised appointments that never materialised. It appeared a to be a day that required rewinding and total reconfiguration.
So we squared up and accepted the irrevocability of the situation from a business perspective, noting the possible causes - and looked to make the best of the day. Since the ladies had missed seeing some of the sights of our capital, we determined that we should rectify this during the last hours of their stay, before their return to Germany.
We found our way to the Tower of London, once gateway to the city and gruesome prison, and marvelled at Tower Bridge looming out of the clearing mists.
Having flown to this country, travelled the city's roads in Hansom cabs, rocketed through the countryside by train and had our fill of the subterranean Underground, it was only natural to take to Father Thames by boat.
Seated in the warmth of a cavernous cabin, right at the front with a panoramic view through the large windows, we enjoyed the sights along the river as we sailed to Westminster. We walked past the Houses of Parliament and sauntered through St James' Park to the chime of Big Ben, until reaching Buckingham Palace. From there we took a cab to Harrods where we marvelled at the Food Halls.
Our spirits were lifted by the time it came to the guests departure on the Gatwick Express.
The challenge and excitement of accompanying our guest now removed, lethargy threatened to descend upon me with a return to melancholy by the time I boarded my own train at Kings Cross Station. This was dispelled by my evening meal of a chicken and chorizo sandwich, liberally spiced with slices of hot Jalapeño peppers. The burst of capsaicin upon the palate burnt through to the brain, imparting sufficient invigoration to see me home to the warm welcome by my wife.
So we squared up and accepted the irrevocability of the situation from a business perspective, noting the possible causes - and looked to make the best of the day. Since the ladies had missed seeing some of the sights of our capital, we determined that we should rectify this during the last hours of their stay, before their return to Germany.
We found our way to the Tower of London, once gateway to the city and gruesome prison, and marvelled at Tower Bridge looming out of the clearing mists.
Having flown to this country, travelled the city's roads in Hansom cabs, rocketed through the countryside by train and had our fill of the subterranean Underground, it was only natural to take to Father Thames by boat.
Seated in the warmth of a cavernous cabin, right at the front with a panoramic view through the large windows, we enjoyed the sights along the river as we sailed to Westminster. We walked past the Houses of Parliament and sauntered through St James' Park to the chime of Big Ben, until reaching Buckingham Palace. From there we took a cab to Harrods where we marvelled at the Food Halls.
Our spirits were lifted by the time it came to the guests departure on the Gatwick Express.
The challenge and excitement of accompanying our guest now removed, lethargy threatened to descend upon me with a return to melancholy by the time I boarded my own train at Kings Cross Station. This was dispelled by my evening meal of a chicken and chorizo sandwich, liberally spiced with slices of hot Jalapeño peppers. The burst of capsaicin upon the palate burnt through to the brain, imparting sufficient invigoration to see me home to the warm welcome by my wife.
Tuesday, 15 March 2011
A brief return journey to Southwold
An early 7am start with Frau D & S Reggentin-Hassenstein as we traveled to London Liverpool St station. We caught the 8am train to Ipswich, the train ploughing through the East Anglian fog that hid the English countryside from the curious eyes of the German visitors.
A taxi cab awaited us on arrival, whisking us to the Enterprise car rental. We wound our way along the A12 northwards. Finally our destination in Southworld was in sight and we were able to have our one and a quarter hour long business meeting with a local shop owner.
The fog had lifted by quarter past twelve and we braved the brisk breeze whistling across the promenade. We perambulated along the pier, shopping for knick-knacks in the establishments upon it. The rows of beach huts afforded some amusement as we perused their names and decorations.
After a brief hour, we were back in the car and on our way back to London.
Barely back by five pm, we spent some time at the Netherland reception before taking up Mr Straus' invitation to dine at the Institute of Directors on Pall Mall. A restored historic building with a grand interior afforded a haven from the stresses of the IFE and meetings.
Mr Straus and Mr Sweetmann entertained us with their prodigious knowledge and amiable arguments about wines, spirits and liquors as we made our way leisurely through the the three course meal.
Weary after a busy day, we took the Bakerloo and Central Underground back to our hotel at Notting Hill.
My hotel bathroom door lock was still in a state of imminent disintegration, fortunately I could open the door!.
The late news was still full on the now three explosions in Japanese reactors 1, 2 & 3 and the extinguished fire in inactive reactor 4. Radiation releases so far have been minimal if you dig into the details, few that they are. However, this has not prevented the hungry 24h news channels speculating on nuclear catastrophe, distracting from the real humanitarian tragedy left by the aftermath of the Tsunami.
A taxi cab awaited us on arrival, whisking us to the Enterprise car rental. We wound our way along the A12 northwards. Finally our destination in Southworld was in sight and we were able to have our one and a quarter hour long business meeting with a local shop owner.
The fog had lifted by quarter past twelve and we braved the brisk breeze whistling across the promenade. We perambulated along the pier, shopping for knick-knacks in the establishments upon it. The rows of beach huts afforded some amusement as we perused their names and decorations.
After a brief hour, we were back in the car and on our way back to London.
Barely back by five pm, we spent some time at the Netherland reception before taking up Mr Straus' invitation to dine at the Institute of Directors on Pall Mall. A restored historic building with a grand interior afforded a haven from the stresses of the IFE and meetings.
Mr Straus and Mr Sweetmann entertained us with their prodigious knowledge and amiable arguments about wines, spirits and liquors as we made our way leisurely through the the three course meal.
Weary after a busy day, we took the Bakerloo and Central Underground back to our hotel at Notting Hill.
My hotel bathroom door lock was still in a state of imminent disintegration, fortunately I could open the door!.
The late news was still full on the now three explosions in Japanese reactors 1, 2 & 3 and the extinguished fire in inactive reactor 4. Radiation releases so far have been minimal if you dig into the details, few that they are. However, this has not prevented the hungry 24h news channels speculating on nuclear catastrophe, distracting from the real humanitarian tragedy left by the aftermath of the Tsunami.
Monday, 14 March 2011
Excel and Lewisham and repaired locks
Jolted back to wakefulness at 3am by the Spanish ladies making a noisy departure, I'm awake till the alarm goes at 7am, having had no sleep at all.
The iconic news image of the day on the television and the newspaper front covers was the Japanese man 10 miles out to sea, on the wreckage of the roof of his house.A second reactor had also exploded in Japan.
I left the hotel with the establishment promising to repair the broken lock on my bathroom door during the day.
This was a day of meetings and providing assistance for the German delegates. The entertainment was provided by the driver of the Hackney carriage we took to Lewisham, who kept up an informative commentary on life, sights and stabbings south of the Thames in London. The overriding impression was however of a man who's pleasure and aim was to help his passengers -creating a positive impression on my European guests. This contrasted with one negative experience when visiting one stand at Excel - fortunately just an aberration amongst the many positive meetings we had.
After presenting an analysis of importing to the UK by colleague Frau Schmidt and myself in a double act, we headed back to the Victoria Pub in Bayswater, our party now 6 strong. A good meal and refreshing drinks gave us the energy to return to the hotel for the night.
I entered my room to find the ingenious solution to my broken bathroom lock and handle. The bathroom door was opened wide and the bed moved closer - so that the door could not close accidentally!
The iconic news image of the day on the television and the newspaper front covers was the Japanese man 10 miles out to sea, on the wreckage of the roof of his house.A second reactor had also exploded in Japan.
I left the hotel with the establishment promising to repair the broken lock on my bathroom door during the day.
This was a day of meetings and providing assistance for the German delegates. The entertainment was provided by the driver of the Hackney carriage we took to Lewisham, who kept up an informative commentary on life, sights and stabbings south of the Thames in London. The overriding impression was however of a man who's pleasure and aim was to help his passengers -creating a positive impression on my European guests. This contrasted with one negative experience when visiting one stand at Excel - fortunately just an aberration amongst the many positive meetings we had.
After presenting an analysis of importing to the UK by colleague Frau Schmidt and myself in a double act, we headed back to the Victoria Pub in Bayswater, our party now 6 strong. A good meal and refreshing drinks gave us the energy to return to the hotel for the night.
I entered my room to find the ingenious solution to my broken bathroom lock and handle. The bathroom door was opened wide and the bed moved closer - so that the door could not close accidentally!
Sunday, 13 March 2011
The trip to London
Only just caught the 13:07 to Kings Cross from Waterbeach today. Safely ensconced between a glowing expectant mother and a returning visitor from Dorset, time flew in pleasant discourse.
On arrival in the City, made my way into the cavernous depths that are the Underground for the Northen line to Bank and from there to Custom House on the Light Docklands Railway. The last miles of the journey was past once bustling Victoria and East India docks, now the backdrop to part decrepit, part resurgent and newly glistening glass spires that form the melange of social fortune in the East of London.
My destination was the Excel exhibition centre. Mr Dodsworth was not there to meet me as planned but I was compensated by being recognised and greeted by Frau Dana Reggentin-Hassenstein and her sister, represeinting their business, der Pommeraner. Mr Dodsworth and Frau Kabizsch of von Blythen soon joined us and we essayed into the maelstrom of the International Food and Drink Exhibition for a couple of hours.
We soon returned to our hotel which, though showing external regency splendour, displayed an internal dilapidation which was commensurate with its economical price!
With Mr Dodsworth departed back to his estate, the ladies and I adventured upon the streets to find a suitable eating establishment. We finally decided upon a Mexican eatery for our evening repast. The food was ample and acceptable to the palate and the service friendly.
We retired back to the hotel soon after as my German guests had been traveling since the early hours of the morning and were in sore need of rest. Having pulled off the handle to my bathroom but valiantly gaining entry through the use of force, I was distracted by sound of laughter through my open window. Further inspection revealed that 1. My window was not directly out of the building but into a six foot wide shaft and 2. Immediately opposite was the window of the neighbouring room with a view to a flirtation of young Spanish ladies, fortunately still properly attired! I felt duty bound to alert them to the danger of inadvertent indiscretion, and we drew our curtains for a more decorous environment.
The news on the television was still focused on the unfolding tragedy of Japan's catastrophe, with Jon Snow giving a moving and poetic description as he moved though the shattered landscape, lives and deaths. With the world's attention distracted, Colonel Muammar Muhammad al-Gaddafi continues his recapturing of ground from the popular uprising in Libya.
Phoned home at the end of the evening and then settled in for the night.
On arrival in the City, made my way into the cavernous depths that are the Underground for the Northen line to Bank and from there to Custom House on the Light Docklands Railway. The last miles of the journey was past once bustling Victoria and East India docks, now the backdrop to part decrepit, part resurgent and newly glistening glass spires that form the melange of social fortune in the East of London.
My destination was the Excel exhibition centre. Mr Dodsworth was not there to meet me as planned but I was compensated by being recognised and greeted by Frau Dana Reggentin-Hassenstein and her sister, represeinting their business, der Pommeraner. Mr Dodsworth and Frau Kabizsch of von Blythen soon joined us and we essayed into the maelstrom of the International Food and Drink Exhibition for a couple of hours.
We soon returned to our hotel which, though showing external regency splendour, displayed an internal dilapidation which was commensurate with its economical price!
With Mr Dodsworth departed back to his estate, the ladies and I adventured upon the streets to find a suitable eating establishment. We finally decided upon a Mexican eatery for our evening repast. The food was ample and acceptable to the palate and the service friendly.
We retired back to the hotel soon after as my German guests had been traveling since the early hours of the morning and were in sore need of rest. Having pulled off the handle to my bathroom but valiantly gaining entry through the use of force, I was distracted by sound of laughter through my open window. Further inspection revealed that 1. My window was not directly out of the building but into a six foot wide shaft and 2. Immediately opposite was the window of the neighbouring room with a view to a flirtation of young Spanish ladies, fortunately still properly attired! I felt duty bound to alert them to the danger of inadvertent indiscretion, and we drew our curtains for a more decorous environment.
The news on the television was still focused on the unfolding tragedy of Japan's catastrophe, with Jon Snow giving a moving and poetic description as he moved though the shattered landscape, lives and deaths. With the world's attention distracted, Colonel Muammar Muhammad al-Gaddafi continues his recapturing of ground from the popular uprising in Libya.
Phoned home at the end of the evening and then settled in for the night.
Saturday, 12 March 2011
On Photograph editing and Nuclear Accidents
Set about completing the selection and editing of the photographs that I took at Mr Thrussel's business, Siga Electronics, on Wednesday, despite it being a Saturday. This on account of travelling to London tomorrow,to assist two travellers from Germany on their visit to the International Food and Drink Exhibition.
The labour was not onerous but did consume much time in the repeated cycles of selecting, cropping, contrast optimisation and fine tuning of the saturation of individual colours in each of the 120 images. Wrote a short article expounding the diversity of applications and locations of Mr Thrussel's company's products.
Was alarmed to hear that there had been an explosion at the Fukushima Daiichi 1 power plant after the Tsunami. The British Broadcasting Corporation reporters making much of the potential for dire consequences. However, upon researching nuclear accidents on the World Wide Web, I came upon a very informed article by the World Nuclear Association (http://www.world-nuclear.org/info/inf06.html) on the safety of such reactors.
It revealed that the danger posed by Western Nuclear Power Plant accidents is far less than propounded. There are several levels of physical containment; even when a meltdown occurs, it tends to self contain the radioactive material in the molten sludge. With the notorious Three Mile Island accident, the meltdown by a full half of the core proceeded a mere 15mm towards China, rather than tunneling through the centre of the earth as feared in the so called "China Syndrome". For those doommongers crying "Chernoby!", they should note that the old Russian reactors lacked the level of containment utilised in the West; this allowing the explosive distribution of radioactive contamination.
As the day progressed, the lesser hazard appeared to fit the Fukushima Daiichi 1 accident. However, the hacks were now directing their attention to a second reactor where cooling has also failed.
This was out of all proportion, compared to the emerging news that one small Japanese estuarine town, Minamisanriku, had literally disappeared from the face of the Earth and 10000 people were missing. A true tragedy.
Milton basked in balmy sunshine today, in marked contrast to the unfortunate Scots who, in the far North, are struggling with blizzards and snowdrifts.
The labour was not onerous but did consume much time in the repeated cycles of selecting, cropping, contrast optimisation and fine tuning of the saturation of individual colours in each of the 120 images. Wrote a short article expounding the diversity of applications and locations of Mr Thrussel's company's products.
Was alarmed to hear that there had been an explosion at the Fukushima Daiichi 1 power plant after the Tsunami. The British Broadcasting Corporation reporters making much of the potential for dire consequences. However, upon researching nuclear accidents on the World Wide Web, I came upon a very informed article by the World Nuclear Association (http://www.world-nuclear.org/info/inf06.html) on the safety of such reactors.
It revealed that the danger posed by Western Nuclear Power Plant accidents is far less than propounded. There are several levels of physical containment; even when a meltdown occurs, it tends to self contain the radioactive material in the molten sludge. With the notorious Three Mile Island accident, the meltdown by a full half of the core proceeded a mere 15mm towards China, rather than tunneling through the centre of the earth as feared in the so called "China Syndrome". For those doommongers crying "Chernoby!", they should note that the old Russian reactors lacked the level of containment utilised in the West; this allowing the explosive distribution of radioactive contamination.
As the day progressed, the lesser hazard appeared to fit the Fukushima Daiichi 1 accident. However, the hacks were now directing their attention to a second reactor where cooling has also failed.
This was out of all proportion, compared to the emerging news that one small Japanese estuarine town, Minamisanriku, had literally disappeared from the face of the Earth and 10000 people were missing. A true tragedy.
Milton basked in balmy sunshine today, in marked contrast to the unfortunate Scots who, in the far North, are struggling with blizzards and snowdrifts.
Friday, 11 March 2011
A Great Catastrophe in Japan
Awoke to hear the news of a great catastrophe off the islands of Japan. A tremendous earthquake shook the earth beneath the sea today, 80 miles off the East Coast of Honshu, near Sendai. According to the measurement scale devised by Mr Richter and Mr Gutenberg, its severity registered at a momentous 8.9. Such calamatous events cause physical damage over hundreds of miles.
This is thought to be the largest earthquake in Japan since the Hakuko Nankai earthquake on November 29, in the year 684 AD.
The most terrifying descriptions were however of the gigantic ocean wave that this shuddering of the earth created. Known as a Tsunami, a thirty foot high wall of death sped towards the hapless shores of Japan at a speed exceeding 400 miles per hour. Ships, trains, automobiles and houses were swept up and dragged into the interior, shattering to matchsticks any obstacle in the path of this Brobdingnagian amalgam of water and debris.
Left behind was a scene of apocalyptic destruction, where the fiery glow of incandescent buildings evoked the very pits of hell. The churning waters off the coast had at one point coalesced into a deadly giant vortex, hundreds of feet across, where a lone vessel was striving to escape the hungry maw at the centre of the whirlpool.
With dawn breaking above the home of the great Mt Fuji, the human tragedy of lives lost was gradually unfolding.
Most surreal was the contrast to the calm environs in our county, where we went about our business, met friends, laughed, loved and toiled at our labours, to be reminded at intervals by the unfolding dark events on the opposite side of the globe, by the reports on the radiograms, televisions and world wide web.
This is thought to be the largest earthquake in Japan since the Hakuko Nankai earthquake on November 29, in the year 684 AD.
The most terrifying descriptions were however of the gigantic ocean wave that this shuddering of the earth created. Known as a Tsunami, a thirty foot high wall of death sped towards the hapless shores of Japan at a speed exceeding 400 miles per hour. Ships, trains, automobiles and houses were swept up and dragged into the interior, shattering to matchsticks any obstacle in the path of this Brobdingnagian amalgam of water and debris.
Left behind was a scene of apocalyptic destruction, where the fiery glow of incandescent buildings evoked the very pits of hell. The churning waters off the coast had at one point coalesced into a deadly giant vortex, hundreds of feet across, where a lone vessel was striving to escape the hungry maw at the centre of the whirlpool.
With dawn breaking above the home of the great Mt Fuji, the human tragedy of lives lost was gradually unfolding.
Most surreal was the contrast to the calm environs in our county, where we went about our business, met friends, laughed, loved and toiled at our labours, to be reminded at intervals by the unfolding dark events on the opposite side of the globe, by the reports on the radiograms, televisions and world wide web.
On The Momentous Events on Our Globe Leading to this Diary
Now, in the year of Our Lord 2011, upon the Friday of the11th March, I find myself moved to record in the written word the events transpiring on our globe. These are the musings, idle speculations and reactions of just one individual, residing in the village of Milton, a mere four miles from the centre of the spired city of Cambridge, in this glorious sceptered Isle of Great Britain.
I beg the indulgence of the reader who stumbles across these humble words.
I beg the indulgence of the reader who stumbles across these humble words.
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