Well the deed has been done. After what must have been the most extraordinary election contest in living memory we now have the outcome no one predicted.
I am not sure how I feel about things - strangely buoyant i think for lots of unrelated reasons. In no particular order some of the extra-ordinary aspects of this election are:
Michael and Costandina both became politicised - almost overnight. The televised debates were probably the catalyst for this. But both of them went from disinterest to real engagement. It was lovely to see Costandina thinking carefully about what the choices were and trying to make up her own mind. Michael weighed in with with a much more black and white view as young teenagers are wont to do. The time for shades of grey is still some years off for Michael.
The TV debates were much better than anyone expected. They were staged and closely controlled but I still came away with a grudging admiration for all 3 leaders for acquitting themselves pretty well. 4 1/2 hours is a hell of a long time to remember all of your pat quotes and stock answers. Frequently having to respond on their feet to the responses of the other speakers it was deceptively testing ordeal I felt. It also spoke volumes that all 3 for calculated reasons felt obliged to act consensual. This stopped it degenerating into a slinging match and made it slightly more edifying.
The outcome was so much better than it could have been. Labour were lacking in va va va voom after 13 years in power and Gordon was deeply disliked as a dithering disconnected leader. It could have - should have - been a romp home for the Conservatives. That it wasn't is a phenomenal victory for Gordon Brown. The doomsday scenario was a Conservative majority that used the excuse of needing to make budget cuts to bring the deficit down to brutally dismantle whole swathes of the what Labour had patiently built up. That is now not going to happen. I think history will be kinder to Gordon than the current spate of obituaries. I also wonder whether there will be a simmering resentment against David Cameron from back benchers and the grass routes as to why didn't they do better.
The negotiations over forming the Coalition government were a master class in negotiation tactics and British restraint.
They were conducted in the full glare of the spotlight yet there were no leaks, no rush, no histrionics, no grandstanding. Democracy was the winner and an unusual level of statesmanship displayed. After the unedifying spectacle of the expenses scandal, no-one would have banked on such dignity and leadership.
Nick Clegg stuck to his guns and wouldn't be rushed despite enormous pressure to do so. The endgame was never a formality. The country was gripped with negotiation madness with everyone doing the maths and not coming up with a clear winner of a solution. That both Cameron and Clegg decided to rise above the obvious difficulties and fashion a result that no-one expected is a credit to their negotiating skills and vision. Both Cameron and Clegg appear to have made genuine and significant concessions. Concessions that have been difficult to sell to their respective parties and may yet unravel.
Will the Lib Dems be a genuine partner and be able to ameliorate the worst instinct of the gutter right - who knows? Has Clegg sold his soul to sup with the devil - maybe?
Does the country have to make swinging cuts in expenditure - yep. Would Labour have had to make profoundly unpopular cuts if they had held onto power - yep. Is it better that we have a credibly stable government that can have a go at making the necessary cuts without the imminent fear of electoral collapse - on balance I think so.
I think so because I don't think it was in Labour's interest to have to go to the people again in a few months time when a minority government may have collapsed. It would not have had enough time to get its house in order and elect a new leader. There would have been a huge risk of the people saying - Sod this, lets just put the Tories for a go.
As it is Labour is in so much better a position to rebuild that it might have been. It hasn't been decimated. There is still a significant parliamentary party to mount a vigorous opposition. It didn't have the numbers to make a minority Government work. Only just mind you. But then again the Tories were only just short of making it work on their own as well. It was so so delicately balanced.
The extraordinary accuracy of the exit polls was also remarkable. 10 minutes after the polls closed they issued their first prediction and got it unbelievably accurate. They were only one seat out. They called in 307 for the Tories and they got 306. That's after 10 minutes of the polls closing and bearing in mind there had been major electoral boundary changes since the last election, a resurgent Lib Dem party that no-one knew had to calculate and a late surge back to Labour. All massively increasing the unpredictability of calling the result.
A remarkable few weeks
Friday, 14 May 2010
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
This stupidity would be funny if it wasn't so dangerous
A quote from the BBC News today:
Women who wear revealing clothing and behave promiscuously are to blame for earthquakes, an Iranian cleric says.
"Many women who do not dress modestly lead young men astray and spread adultery in society which increases earthquakes," he explained.
Words fail me!
Chit Chat
It was Kite Day on the Common a couple of weeks ago. A bright sunny day and hundreds of kits being flown on the Common. Michael wanted to go but we said that we would go another day when there were less kites and a fighting chance of flying our kite without getting all tangled up. Sods law when we went last week there was no wind
Costandina passed her Drivers Licence Tuesday week ago and Sarah passed hers last week. That means that, along with Jo who passed hers sometime ago, all three of Sonya's bridesmaids are now legal and creating havoc on the roads.
Sam, Costandina's boyfriend, came up and stayed with us for a couple of days last week. He seemed to relax a bit more around us. Michael gets on well with him too which makes life a lot easier. I think in a strange way he likes having an older boy to look up to.In lots of subtle ways Michael was watching Sam and how he behaved and trying to mirror it. Something about copying being the sincerest form of flattery
Sonya has been looking for a new job recently having got sick and tired of the travelling. She had a job interview last week for a job that she didn't particularly want but figured it was good to get one under her belt to quell the nerves. I think she is glad that she did as she was very very nervous and probably didn't put her best foot forward. Anyway she has another interview next Thursday. This one she really wants. It is p/t (25 hrs/ wk) for almost the same money she in on now and it is only a half hour to work by train. Here's hoping.
It's been very hectic at work for me recently with a real log jam of projects needing my input. It has meant a lot of very late nights but hopefully we are now over the worst and life can settle back down again. I don't want to completely abandon all my good intentions.
It is threatening to get up to 18 by the end of the week. I am not sure what we will do in all this sunshine and heat. I feel quite faint and sweaty just at the thought of it.
They announced that they are going to start reopening the airports after a week of no flying because of the "ash" cloud. Sounds like a primeaval menace hanging darkly over the land. Truth is you can't see it at all. Perhaps the sunsets have been a touch pinker but the sky has generally still been blue and clear. Its all been a bit amazing though. Shed loads of people are stranded all round Europe with some astonishing numbers being bandied about regarding the extent of diruption. I read a figure somewhere that 17,000 flights a day were on hold across Europe. That's a whole lot of no flying.
Tesco is complaining because they can't get their flowers flown in from Kenya and the F1 teams can't get back to Britain to work on their engines. It's amazing how all the important things make the headlines eh
Costandina passed her Drivers Licence Tuesday week ago and Sarah passed hers last week. That means that, along with Jo who passed hers sometime ago, all three of Sonya's bridesmaids are now legal and creating havoc on the roads.
Sam, Costandina's boyfriend, came up and stayed with us for a couple of days last week. He seemed to relax a bit more around us. Michael gets on well with him too which makes life a lot easier. I think in a strange way he likes having an older boy to look up to.In lots of subtle ways Michael was watching Sam and how he behaved and trying to mirror it. Something about copying being the sincerest form of flattery
Sonya has been looking for a new job recently having got sick and tired of the travelling. She had a job interview last week for a job that she didn't particularly want but figured it was good to get one under her belt to quell the nerves. I think she is glad that she did as she was very very nervous and probably didn't put her best foot forward. Anyway she has another interview next Thursday. This one she really wants. It is p/t (25 hrs/ wk) for almost the same money she in on now and it is only a half hour to work by train. Here's hoping.
It's been very hectic at work for me recently with a real log jam of projects needing my input. It has meant a lot of very late nights but hopefully we are now over the worst and life can settle back down again. I don't want to completely abandon all my good intentions.
It is threatening to get up to 18 by the end of the week. I am not sure what we will do in all this sunshine and heat. I feel quite faint and sweaty just at the thought of it.
They announced that they are going to start reopening the airports after a week of no flying because of the "ash" cloud. Sounds like a primeaval menace hanging darkly over the land. Truth is you can't see it at all. Perhaps the sunsets have been a touch pinker but the sky has generally still been blue and clear. Its all been a bit amazing though. Shed loads of people are stranded all round Europe with some astonishing numbers being bandied about regarding the extent of diruption. I read a figure somewhere that 17,000 flights a day were on hold across Europe. That's a whole lot of no flying.
Tesco is complaining because they can't get their flowers flown in from Kenya and the F1 teams can't get back to Britain to work on their engines. It's amazing how all the important things make the headlines eh
Friday, 16 April 2010
A man and his BBQ
I need to preface what follows by saying that Sonya's Dad is an absolute star, a real diamond geezer. We get such a lot of support from him. Twice a week he picks Michael up from school and drives him to his tennis lessons, stays and watches Michael and then drives him back to our place. Last Friday when we were expected Sonya's cousin over for a BBQ on Saturday he popped round and mowed our lawn without us even asking him to do it. I mean the guy needs to be canonised.
Anyway, as some of you may know the Greeks love their BBQ. But it is not just any old BBQ; it must be the right sort of BBQ. It must have multiple height adjustable motorised rotisseries and it must cook over coal. Gas or electric just doesnt cut it.
Any chance they get - it's "Lets get out the BBQ". Sonya's Dad had cooked the traditional BBQ on Easter Sunday to mark the end of Lent. But since Sonya's cousin was coming over last weekend it was decried that we would have another BBQ.
Sonya's Dad, herein after known as the Father In Law or FIL for short, said he would come over to our place to cook the BBQ. "You do have coals dont you" says FIL. "Of course we do" says I.
Anyway we didn't, so on Friday night we stop of to get a bag of coals from the local service station. Only they didn't have the normal bag we get so we buy a bag of something called BBQ briquettes. I mean how different can they be.
Saturday afternoon comes round and the FIL arrives with sleeves rolled up ready to do his thing. Except he takes one look at my bag of coals and says "Why didn't you get proper coals?" Son in Law mutters under his breath "They look fine to me."
FIL proceeds to try and light the briquettes just using firelighters. "Don't you want some kindling?" says SIL. "No this how I do it"
SIL retreats back to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of wine. Leave him to it thinks SIL; don't get between a man and his BBQ (even if it is your BBQ).
20 minutes later SIL vetures outside to see how things are going. "These are crap coals you bought" says FIL. "I have used half the box of firelighters and I still can't get them too light." "Let me get some kindling." 10 minutes later the briquettes are alight and getting up to operating temperature. SIL goes back into kitchen to refill glass of wine. Resists termptation to say "I told you so."
BBQ is loaded up with skewers of meat and away we go; or so I thought. Soon enough the frown reappears across FIL's face. Wife pops out to take some more meat and comes back - "He's not happy; they're crap coals you bought."
"What now?"
"They're not hot enough!"
SIL strides purposefully out to BBQ, puts hand over coals and says confidently "Feels pretty hot to me." What would SIL know.
"They're crap coals you've bought, they don't retain their heat. It will take forever to cook all the meat!" This evidently isn't a proposition to be debated but a statement.
FIL suddenly makes his mind up and goes to get his coat. "Where are you going?" says SIL. "To get some proper coals!" SIL is sensible enough to know to say nothing at this point. The meat meanwhile continues its patient cooking.
40 minutes later FIL finally returns. "They didn't have coals at your local service station, I had to go all the way into Croydon" "No shit" thinks SIL. "Why do you think i bought the coals I did."
FIL goes on to say "I've bought my BBQ over too." "It's exactly the same as our BBQ" says SIL. "Why will your BBQ be any quicker?" "I know my BBQ" says FIL mysteriously.
SIL piles up his "crap" coals onto our BBQ to get it blazing away whilst FIL lights the coals pre soaked in petrol and also soon has his BBQ roaring away. "See these coals light perfectly" observes FIL sagely. "Well they would with that much petrol" thinks SIL.
Soon two BBQ's are happily churning out meat and fishing charred to perfection and the afternoon proceeds along in the lazy happy way of BBQ afternoons. Wife advises some time later that FIL is still stressed by how long it took to cook meat. Mind you no has gone hungry waiting for the meat as kitchen table was groaning under a dozen different dips and starters.
SIL decides its not worth debating and shows great maturity when FIL comes up to him later on and says that I must make sure to get the proper coals next time and not the crap coals I bought.
Rest of the day was fine
Anyway, as some of you may know the Greeks love their BBQ. But it is not just any old BBQ; it must be the right sort of BBQ. It must have multiple height adjustable motorised rotisseries and it must cook over coal. Gas or electric just doesnt cut it.
Any chance they get - it's "Lets get out the BBQ". Sonya's Dad had cooked the traditional BBQ on Easter Sunday to mark the end of Lent. But since Sonya's cousin was coming over last weekend it was decried that we would have another BBQ.
Sonya's Dad, herein after known as the Father In Law or FIL for short, said he would come over to our place to cook the BBQ. "You do have coals dont you" says FIL. "Of course we do" says I.
Anyway we didn't, so on Friday night we stop of to get a bag of coals from the local service station. Only they didn't have the normal bag we get so we buy a bag of something called BBQ briquettes. I mean how different can they be.
Saturday afternoon comes round and the FIL arrives with sleeves rolled up ready to do his thing. Except he takes one look at my bag of coals and says "Why didn't you get proper coals?" Son in Law mutters under his breath "They look fine to me."
FIL proceeds to try and light the briquettes just using firelighters. "Don't you want some kindling?" says SIL. "No this how I do it"
SIL retreats back to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of wine. Leave him to it thinks SIL; don't get between a man and his BBQ (even if it is your BBQ).
20 minutes later SIL vetures outside to see how things are going. "These are crap coals you bought" says FIL. "I have used half the box of firelighters and I still can't get them too light." "Let me get some kindling." 10 minutes later the briquettes are alight and getting up to operating temperature. SIL goes back into kitchen to refill glass of wine. Resists termptation to say "I told you so."
BBQ is loaded up with skewers of meat and away we go; or so I thought. Soon enough the frown reappears across FIL's face. Wife pops out to take some more meat and comes back - "He's not happy; they're crap coals you bought."
"What now?"
"They're not hot enough!"
SIL strides purposefully out to BBQ, puts hand over coals and says confidently "Feels pretty hot to me." What would SIL know.
"They're crap coals you've bought, they don't retain their heat. It will take forever to cook all the meat!" This evidently isn't a proposition to be debated but a statement.
FIL suddenly makes his mind up and goes to get his coat. "Where are you going?" says SIL. "To get some proper coals!" SIL is sensible enough to know to say nothing at this point. The meat meanwhile continues its patient cooking.
40 minutes later FIL finally returns. "They didn't have coals at your local service station, I had to go all the way into Croydon" "No shit" thinks SIL. "Why do you think i bought the coals I did."
FIL goes on to say "I've bought my BBQ over too." "It's exactly the same as our BBQ" says SIL. "Why will your BBQ be any quicker?" "I know my BBQ" says FIL mysteriously.
SIL piles up his "crap" coals onto our BBQ to get it blazing away whilst FIL lights the coals pre soaked in petrol and also soon has his BBQ roaring away. "See these coals light perfectly" observes FIL sagely. "Well they would with that much petrol" thinks SIL.
Soon two BBQ's are happily churning out meat and fishing charred to perfection and the afternoon proceeds along in the lazy happy way of BBQ afternoons. Wife advises some time later that FIL is still stressed by how long it took to cook meat. Mind you no has gone hungry waiting for the meat as kitchen table was groaning under a dozen different dips and starters.
SIL decides its not worth debating and shows great maturity when FIL comes up to him later on and says that I must make sure to get the proper coals next time and not the crap coals I bought.
Rest of the day was fine
Sunday, 11 April 2010
The love of mosaics
My friend Paul Spain posted me a series of pictures from Sachin Tendulkar's new home that included this wonderful handbasin
Which is wonderful on a number of fronts. Firstly it has mosaics and you can almost never go wrong with mosaics. It reminds me of Gaudi and his side kick Joseph Jujol who was actually responsible for the mosaics at Gaudi's famous Park Guell
Underneath the upper deck is an underground grotto with a famous undulating mosaic ceiling with these glorious mosiacs ceiling roses
Jujol was also responsible for some wonderful eccentric Catalan Art Nouveau buildings
Then there is Gaudi's famous dragon water sculpture which brings me back to the other wonderful aspects of handbasin that started this all off - the play of water in buildings
There was a bank HQ built in Amsterdam in the mid 1980's (the NMB Bank Building now ING) that had a lovely water feature incorporated into one of the handrails. This is the only photo however that I can find of it. Even though it is a rubbish photo, if you look closely you maybe able to get a bit of idea of what the handrail looked like
Despite the crap photo I think that water can be wonderful thing to play with in the design of a building
Which is wonderful on a number of fronts. Firstly it has mosaics and you can almost never go wrong with mosaics. It reminds me of Gaudi and his side kick Joseph Jujol who was actually responsible for the mosaics at Gaudi's famous Park Guell
Underneath the upper deck is an underground grotto with a famous undulating mosaic ceiling with these glorious mosiacs ceiling roses
Saturday, 10 April 2010
A very particular blue
Just thought I'd share some beauitiful pictures I came across on a random blog I stumbled across.
These rather beautiful pictures belong to a house in Marrakesh - the Jardin Majorelle. The fashionistas amongst you will recognise this as the home of the late Yves St Laurent. Before YSL bought the house in 1980 and restored it, it had been open to the public in the 1940's and 1950's before falling into disrepair. You can find out all about the house and garden at this website - Jardin Majorelle.
(The blog I found these pictures on by the way is called The House in Marrakesh)
It also reminds me how dependent colours are on the light in which we see them. This intensity of colour is only ever found in countries with really bright sunshine. You never see this vividness in Northern European countries. When you buy a can of Ultramarine Blue paint it never colours up the same as the picture in the coffee table art book you first saw it.
That said I still find this blue extraordinary.
The same problem of light also occurs when you try and explain how red the sand is in Central Australia. We didn't visit there on our trip this time so Sonya et al can't vouch for me but I remember being stunned by the colour when I visited Alice Springs many years ago. Until people from England have visited Africa or Australia they just don't know what you are talking about when you tell them the light is different.
These rather beautiful pictures belong to a house in Marrakesh - the Jardin Majorelle. The fashionistas amongst you will recognise this as the home of the late Yves St Laurent. Before YSL bought the house in 1980 and restored it, it had been open to the public in the 1940's and 1950's before falling into disrepair. You can find out all about the house and garden at this website - Jardin Majorelle.
(The blog I found these pictures on by the way is called The House in Marrakesh)
It also reminds me how dependent colours are on the light in which we see them. This intensity of colour is only ever found in countries with really bright sunshine. You never see this vividness in Northern European countries. When you buy a can of Ultramarine Blue paint it never colours up the same as the picture in the coffee table art book you first saw it.
That said I still find this blue extraordinary.
The same problem of light also occurs when you try and explain how red the sand is in Central Australia. We didn't visit there on our trip this time so Sonya et al can't vouch for me but I remember being stunned by the colour when I visited Alice Springs many years ago. Until people from England have visited Africa or Australia they just don't know what you are talking about when you tell them the light is different.
Monday, 5 April 2010
Gratitude for our help
I see from the news that the water restrictions in Melbourne have been eased following the recent spate of good rains. Although the dams haven't filled up very much I gather from the Vic Water that they feel a good deal optomistic of late and things are much better than a year ago.
It seems to me therefore that a debt of gratitude is owed to us for our drought breaking efforts. As far as I can tell the drought broke when we bought the rain with us on our recent foray to the home country. You lot had been moaning about a decade of unbroken drought and all i got was intermittent rain on our Summer holiday. So either you lot were lying or we broke the drought; its one or the other!
It seems to me therefore that a debt of gratitude is owed to us for our drought breaking efforts. As far as I can tell the drought broke when we bought the rain with us on our recent foray to the home country. You lot had been moaning about a decade of unbroken drought and all i got was intermittent rain on our Summer holiday. So either you lot were lying or we broke the drought; its one or the other!
Sunday, 4 April 2010
Travelling back to Byzantium
It is Easter which is the holiest period in the Greek Orthodox calender. Much more sacred in fact than Christmas. They celebrate Easter with a week long series of Masses and Services culminating in a midnight Masses on Easter Saturday. In the lead up to Easter Saturday between there is almost continual prayer and worship going on in the church. In fact the devout (which usually means the little old Greek ladies) often stay all night at church on the Thursday night preparing the Church for the big Mass. It is quite a feat of stamina for the poor Priest.
We have just come back from the Saturday night ceremony and I was reminded of the emphasis that the Greek Orthodox church places on chanting. With my CoE upbring chanting had always seemed an archaic relic of times long past, now kept alive by French monks cashing in and producing CD's of Gregorian chants.
Not so I have discovered. Much of the chanting in Greek Orthodox churches is done by lay members of the congregation and although, it varies in musical quality, is well understood by the congregation. Often I would hear people standing beside me chanting along quietly under their breath. They clearly knew the words and understood the musical form. When performed by some of the more musical amongst the congregation it can take on a lovely musical quality despite all it's acapella limitations.
I am also reminded about the direct lineage that the Greek Orthodox church can trace back to Byzantium and eastern Europe. The ceremonies, the priests garb, the chanting are all ancient and unchanging. It is so a reminder that the Western viewpoint that I normally unconsciously view the world from is just one of many possible viewpoints. There is a rich and quite distinctive Eastern European cultural heritage with its links to Russia, Central Asia and the Middle East.
Standing in these simply painted churches listening to the rhythmic droning one can get transported to back in time and imagine a very different world
That said I am also struck by how much the Greek comunity embrace their church and how loved and relevant it remains to their identity today. Its a wonderful mixture of old and contemporary
We have just come back from the Saturday night ceremony and I was reminded of the emphasis that the Greek Orthodox church places on chanting. With my CoE upbring chanting had always seemed an archaic relic of times long past, now kept alive by French monks cashing in and producing CD's of Gregorian chants.
Not so I have discovered. Much of the chanting in Greek Orthodox churches is done by lay members of the congregation and although, it varies in musical quality, is well understood by the congregation. Often I would hear people standing beside me chanting along quietly under their breath. They clearly knew the words and understood the musical form. When performed by some of the more musical amongst the congregation it can take on a lovely musical quality despite all it's acapella limitations.
I am also reminded about the direct lineage that the Greek Orthodox church can trace back to Byzantium and eastern Europe. The ceremonies, the priests garb, the chanting are all ancient and unchanging. It is so a reminder that the Western viewpoint that I normally unconsciously view the world from is just one of many possible viewpoints. There is a rich and quite distinctive Eastern European cultural heritage with its links to Russia, Central Asia and the Middle East.
Standing in these simply painted churches listening to the rhythmic droning one can get transported to back in time and imagine a very different world
That said I am also struck by how much the Greek comunity embrace their church and how loved and relevant it remains to their identity today. Its a wonderful mixture of old and contemporary
When the awful truth dawns
It is Easter and the end of another term for Michael. This means naturally end of terms reports. Oh dear. Michael had a wake up call this term. He, who had been cruising and felt it an imposition that others expected him to do more than the bare minimum, was suddenly confronted by a rash of poor results. Grades slipping from first term. The phrase "unsatisfactory" peppered throughout the subjects under Effort.
Last term was very good but now it has all come home to roost. He is a fortunate child who finds learning straight forward in most subjects. He is in the top group in almost every subject. As a result however he has yet to accept that learning involves effort. He cruises and doesn't like to have to work at a problem. He isnt particularly resilient and is easily disheartened. As such I imagine he is like about 90% of all other 13 yr olds
I guess we have a somewhat bumpy road ahead as we navigate the indignation and petulance that I imagine will mark his desperate last stand of childhood freedom. Such joys await us
For Michael Easter 2010 makes the date when the awful truth that school was no longer going to be easy finally dawned on him
Last term was very good but now it has all come home to roost. He is a fortunate child who finds learning straight forward in most subjects. He is in the top group in almost every subject. As a result however he has yet to accept that learning involves effort. He cruises and doesn't like to have to work at a problem. He isnt particularly resilient and is easily disheartened. As such I imagine he is like about 90% of all other 13 yr olds
I guess we have a somewhat bumpy road ahead as we navigate the indignation and petulance that I imagine will mark his desperate last stand of childhood freedom. Such joys await us
For Michael Easter 2010 makes the date when the awful truth that school was no longer going to be easy finally dawned on him
Friday, 2 April 2010
Howling Wolf
My friends Gavin and Vicky were leaving to return back to Jersey and decided to throw a party. Gavin being an ex professional drummer, decided that he would play some live sets with the various bands he had played with over the last few years.
All well and good and not too bad they were too. He is good as were his musician friends. That is except the middle band who weren't just good - they were sensational. They were a really tight blues band with a fantastic guitarist. I mean seriously good. Awesome was Gavin's professional opinion. Anyway they started on this track and I'm thinking I know this one. And then it dawns on me as they break into the riff that drives the chorus that this is "Killing Floor" one of my favourite blues tracks.
Now "Killing Floor" has a history with me. When I first came over to Europe I spent some time in Amsterdam which has a wonderful flea market. It was there that I found some cheap blues CD's. One of these was a CD of tracks by Howling Wolf. I just bought it on spec never having heard the name but thinking what the heck. Well I was blown away and became an instant fan - especially of the last 3 tracks which ended with his wonderful "Killing Floor" track
Here is the only studio version of Killing Floor that I could find on the Net - Killing Floor as Howling Wolf recorded the song
A better example of Howling's driving sense of rhythm is however this version of his immortal Shake for Me (one of the other 3 tracks that had intoxicated me) - Howling Wolf - Shake for me
Howling - born Chester Burnett in 1910 - was one of the major blues muscians who influenced the burgeoning R&B scene in England in the 60's. The Stones, the Yardbirds, Eric Clapton, Led Zepplin, Steve Winwood all looked up to Howling Wolf. A giant of a man at over 6'6" tall and nearly 300 pounds he had an amazing gruff voice that powered through his tracks and just oozed the blues.
Here is Howling playing on an American TV Show "Shindig". In it Brian Jones and Mick Jagger openly acknowledge their admiration of Howling. It is however perhaps best known for Brian Jones telling the MC to shut up and bring on Howling (just watch out for Howling swivelling his hips mid way through - the man can move too) - Howling playing with the Stones on Shindig
I think that's one of the reason I like the Stones so much. They paid their dues and knew their stuff. They were true music fans and understood the precedents for where they wanted to go musically. They covered Howling's Little Red Rooster in 1964 as well as a number of Robert Johnson tracks like Love in Vain
Howling was blues to his core as this great track shows from the same recording as Shake for Me above - Howling performing live
Having said that however I have to leave you with this clip from 1970 showing Howling terrorising his way through Killing Floor Howling Wolf Killing Floor Live in 1970. He da man
All well and good and not too bad they were too. He is good as were his musician friends. That is except the middle band who weren't just good - they were sensational. They were a really tight blues band with a fantastic guitarist. I mean seriously good. Awesome was Gavin's professional opinion. Anyway they started on this track and I'm thinking I know this one. And then it dawns on me as they break into the riff that drives the chorus that this is "Killing Floor" one of my favourite blues tracks.
Now "Killing Floor" has a history with me. When I first came over to Europe I spent some time in Amsterdam which has a wonderful flea market. It was there that I found some cheap blues CD's. One of these was a CD of tracks by Howling Wolf. I just bought it on spec never having heard the name but thinking what the heck. Well I was blown away and became an instant fan - especially of the last 3 tracks which ended with his wonderful "Killing Floor" track
Here is the only studio version of Killing Floor that I could find on the Net - Killing Floor as Howling Wolf recorded the song
A better example of Howling's driving sense of rhythm is however this version of his immortal Shake for Me (one of the other 3 tracks that had intoxicated me) - Howling Wolf - Shake for me
Howling - born Chester Burnett in 1910 - was one of the major blues muscians who influenced the burgeoning R&B scene in England in the 60's. The Stones, the Yardbirds, Eric Clapton, Led Zepplin, Steve Winwood all looked up to Howling Wolf. A giant of a man at over 6'6" tall and nearly 300 pounds he had an amazing gruff voice that powered through his tracks and just oozed the blues.
I think that's one of the reason I like the Stones so much. They paid their dues and knew their stuff. They were true music fans and understood the precedents for where they wanted to go musically. They covered Howling's Little Red Rooster in 1964 as well as a number of Robert Johnson tracks like Love in Vain
Howling was blues to his core as this great track shows from the same recording as Shake for Me above - Howling performing live
Having said that however I have to leave you with this clip from 1970 showing Howling terrorising his way through Killing Floor Howling Wolf Killing Floor Live in 1970. He da man
Sunday, 28 March 2010
In praise of seasons
Costandina returned home on Friday for her Easter Term break and will be with us for nearly a month. These Uni students have it easy - I mean that's not a break that's a sabattical! It will however be lovely to have her back home and have a full house again.
The clocks have also gone forward this weekend and it finally feels that Spring is on its way. The short dark days are the worst part of Winter for me. What I like about this time of year is how quickly the days change. Each day seems noticeably longer. Then we get this big push forward when the clocks change and lo and behold we are out of Winter's dark grip.
I mustn't speak to soon though as there is a severe weather warning in place for northern England next week - heavy rain rain and sleet/ snow. Charming! Hopefully it will stay up north where it belongs
We are busy planning a weeks holiday at the end of May and discussing where we might go in Summer. The heating has been turned down now that it is a balmy 7oC and we no longer have to take scarfes to work. Soon it will be t-shirt weather.
That palpable sense of change is one of the things I really like about living a bit further away from the equator than sunny Melbourne. London is 51oN whereas Melbourne is only 37oS. Even Hobart is only 42oS and the southern tip of New Zealand is only 46oS. The tip of South Africa is only 34oS. In fact you have to go to the very bottom tip of South America to the most southern point of Argentina to get an equivalent position to London. It makes a big difference
This marker of time passing is more important I think than many people give it credit for. One of the important roles that weddings and funerals play is as an opportunity to get together with distant family and mark how you and they have changed. You notice it more at these events because you don't see your cousins and nieces everyday. They are suddenly older, taller, more grown up.
So too we measure the passage of time by the seasons. Its not quite that "I did that three winters ago" but perhaps just that the passing of another year is more marked when it is clearly delineated by whatever is ones favourite seasonal change - the coming of spring or perhaps the colours of Autumn.
The importance of the seasons has long been celebrated in England (and Europe presumably) with ceremonies to mark the the Equinoxes and Solistices (what is the plural of those words??). The Harvest Festival is still celebrated in some counties. This occurs on the Harvest Moon or full moon closest to the Autumnal Equinox. Mind you we dont get a public holiday unlike the American Thanksgiving Day holiday.
Mind you a google of topics like equinox and solstice festivals does bring up a strange amalgum of the esoteric, the pagan and the plain old nutters. Tree huggers and unreconstitued hippies who should by now know better are there in force but so to are the Chaos theory advocates and Gaia supporters. Should we so choose we may avail ourselves in mid June of the Equinox Festival. A quick glance at the list of performers says it all - http://www.equinoxfestival.org/performers.html.
Then again there is always that old stalwart - Galstonbury or the pagan celebrations at Stonehenge on the 21 June. The running battles between the middle aged pagans trying to get over the fence and up to the rocks of Stonehenge and the mildly amused police trying to stop them makes watching the news on 22 June highly entertaining.
Did you know that the first (or only) full moon in June is called the Honey Moon. Tradition holds that this is the best time to harvest honey from the hives. This time of year, between the planting and harvesting of the crops, was the traditional month for weddings. This is because many ancient peoples believed that the "grand [sexual] union" of the Goddess and God occurred in early May at Beltaine. Since it was unlucky to compete with the deities, many couples delayed their weddings until June. June remains a favorite month for marriage today. In some traditions, "newly wed couples were fed dishes and beverages that featured honey for the first month of their married life to encourage love and fertility. The surviving vestige of this tradition lives on in the name given to the holiday immediately after the ceremony: The Honeymoon." Bet you didn't know that
The clocks have also gone forward this weekend and it finally feels that Spring is on its way. The short dark days are the worst part of Winter for me. What I like about this time of year is how quickly the days change. Each day seems noticeably longer. Then we get this big push forward when the clocks change and lo and behold we are out of Winter's dark grip.
I mustn't speak to soon though as there is a severe weather warning in place for northern England next week - heavy rain rain and sleet/ snow. Charming! Hopefully it will stay up north where it belongs
We are busy planning a weeks holiday at the end of May and discussing where we might go in Summer. The heating has been turned down now that it is a balmy 7oC and we no longer have to take scarfes to work. Soon it will be t-shirt weather.
That palpable sense of change is one of the things I really like about living a bit further away from the equator than sunny Melbourne. London is 51oN whereas Melbourne is only 37oS. Even Hobart is only 42oS and the southern tip of New Zealand is only 46oS. The tip of South Africa is only 34oS. In fact you have to go to the very bottom tip of South America to the most southern point of Argentina to get an equivalent position to London. It makes a big difference
This marker of time passing is more important I think than many people give it credit for. One of the important roles that weddings and funerals play is as an opportunity to get together with distant family and mark how you and they have changed. You notice it more at these events because you don't see your cousins and nieces everyday. They are suddenly older, taller, more grown up.
So too we measure the passage of time by the seasons. Its not quite that "I did that three winters ago" but perhaps just that the passing of another year is more marked when it is clearly delineated by whatever is ones favourite seasonal change - the coming of spring or perhaps the colours of Autumn.
The importance of the seasons has long been celebrated in England (and Europe presumably) with ceremonies to mark the the Equinoxes and Solistices (what is the plural of those words??). The Harvest Festival is still celebrated in some counties. This occurs on the Harvest Moon or full moon closest to the Autumnal Equinox. Mind you we dont get a public holiday unlike the American Thanksgiving Day holiday.
Mind you a google of topics like equinox and solstice festivals does bring up a strange amalgum of the esoteric, the pagan and the plain old nutters. Tree huggers and unreconstitued hippies who should by now know better are there in force but so to are the Chaos theory advocates and Gaia supporters. Should we so choose we may avail ourselves in mid June of the Equinox Festival. A quick glance at the list of performers says it all - http://www.equinoxfestival.org/performers.html.
Then again there is always that old stalwart - Galstonbury or the pagan celebrations at Stonehenge on the 21 June. The running battles between the middle aged pagans trying to get over the fence and up to the rocks of Stonehenge and the mildly amused police trying to stop them makes watching the news on 22 June highly entertaining.
Did you know that the first (or only) full moon in June is called the Honey Moon. Tradition holds that this is the best time to harvest honey from the hives. This time of year, between the planting and harvesting of the crops, was the traditional month for weddings. This is because many ancient peoples believed that the "grand [sexual] union" of the Goddess and God occurred in early May at Beltaine. Since it was unlucky to compete with the deities, many couples delayed their weddings until June. June remains a favorite month for marriage today. In some traditions, "newly wed couples were fed dishes and beverages that featured honey for the first month of their married life to encourage love and fertility. The surviving vestige of this tradition lives on in the name given to the holiday immediately after the ceremony: The Honeymoon." Bet you didn't know that
Monday, 22 March 2010
One for the trivia buffs
The next in my series of what connects disparate items concerns the Chilean earthquake some weeks ago, Scottish mariners and 18C English literature. Alternatively it would be the connection between the Juan Fernadez Islands, Selkirk and castaways. The answer as you all know is of course Robinson Crusoe.
Written by Daniels Defoe in 1719, Robinson Crusoe is sometimes described as the first English novel. An instant classic it remains in print to this day. Few however would know that it's full title is The Life and Strange Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe of York, Mariner: Who lived Eight and Twenty Years, all alone in an un-inhabited Island on the coast of America, near the Mouth of the Great River of Oroonoque; Having been cast on Shore by Shipwreck, where-in all the Men perished but himself. With An Account how he was at last as strangely deliver'd by Pyrates. Written by Himself.
Now that is a title!
Think about how long ago 1719 was. Defoe was a direct contemporary of Sir Isaac Newton and was writing barely 50 years after the Great Fire of London. Charles Dickens would not be born for another hundred years. It would be more than 50 years before James Cook would set sail and 70 years before the French Revolution. London at the start of the 18C was indeed a very different place than today
Popular folklore has it that the inspiration for Defoe was the story of Alexander Selkirk who was castaway on the Juan Fernadez Islands off the Cilean coast from 1705 until 1709. The Wikipedia entry for Robinson Crusoe however casts doubt on whether this was in fact the true inspiration and lists a range of other castaway possibilities.
Whatever the truth, it didn't stop the islanders of the Juan Fernandez archipelago renaming their main island Robinson Crusoe Island 50 years ago and it was these self same islands that suffered from the tsunami generated by the recent Chilean earthquake.
I was touched by the storey that ran in one newspaper over here of Martina Maturana, a 12 year old girl who lives on Robinson Crusoe Island along with 650 other hardy souls.
It was Martina who peered out her window when she felt the tremor and noticed the boats in the harbour bobbing violently in the water. Her father, the community Policeman, was busy on the phone so she decided to run down to the village square and ring the emergency bell. The bell alerted the villagers who stumbled out of their home in the night to find out what the problem was only to be hit minutes later by a 20m wave crashing through the little harbour and racing 300m into the village killing 8 locals and injuring 8 others.
Naturally she is a hero but the islanders are furious that the tsunami warning system failed to work. "We can't depend on a little girl" as one commentator put it
Written by Daniels Defoe in 1719, Robinson Crusoe is sometimes described as the first English novel. An instant classic it remains in print to this day. Few however would know that it's full title is The Life and Strange Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe of York, Mariner: Who lived Eight and Twenty Years, all alone in an un-inhabited Island on the coast of America, near the Mouth of the Great River of Oroonoque; Having been cast on Shore by Shipwreck, where-in all the Men perished but himself. With An Account how he was at last as strangely deliver'd by Pyrates. Written by Himself.
Now that is a title!
Think about how long ago 1719 was. Defoe was a direct contemporary of Sir Isaac Newton and was writing barely 50 years after the Great Fire of London. Charles Dickens would not be born for another hundred years. It would be more than 50 years before James Cook would set sail and 70 years before the French Revolution. London at the start of the 18C was indeed a very different place than today
Popular folklore has it that the inspiration for Defoe was the story of Alexander Selkirk who was castaway on the Juan Fernadez Islands off the Cilean coast from 1705 until 1709. The Wikipedia entry for Robinson Crusoe however casts doubt on whether this was in fact the true inspiration and lists a range of other castaway possibilities.
Whatever the truth, it didn't stop the islanders of the Juan Fernandez archipelago renaming their main island Robinson Crusoe Island 50 years ago and it was these self same islands that suffered from the tsunami generated by the recent Chilean earthquake.
I was touched by the storey that ran in one newspaper over here of Martina Maturana, a 12 year old girl who lives on Robinson Crusoe Island along with 650 other hardy souls.
It was Martina who peered out her window when she felt the tremor and noticed the boats in the harbour bobbing violently in the water. Her father, the community Policeman, was busy on the phone so she decided to run down to the village square and ring the emergency bell. The bell alerted the villagers who stumbled out of their home in the night to find out what the problem was only to be hit minutes later by a 20m wave crashing through the little harbour and racing 300m into the village killing 8 locals and injuring 8 others.
Naturally she is a hero but the islanders are furious that the tsunami warning system failed to work. "We can't depend on a little girl" as one commentator put it
Sunday, 21 March 2010
There's Plenty of Room at the Bottom
It has been a while since I posted and I thought it was time I raise the intellectual credentials of this blog. So I thought I would start off by posting a blog that links the American crime series Numbers, Chaos theory and physics in the 60's. The common denominator in all of the above is of course Richard Feynman. You all knew that didn't you.
Those who may have read James Gleick book on the emergence of Chaos Theory (Chaos Theory, The Making of a New Science) will know of course know of Gleick's admiration for the work of Mr Feynman. The American crime series Numbers is also fond of quoting Feynman at suitable moments as they break off into their wizzy let Hollywood explain particle physics to you kind of way.
The Wikipedia article on Feynman describes him as perhaps the most famous scientist in the 60's. Famed as a lecturer and teacher of the highest calbre, the book of his lectures (The Feynman Lectures on Physics) is still in print and is regarded as one of the most accessible undergraduate textbooks even today.
He was also regarded as an eccentric and free spirit. He was a prankster, juggler, safecracker, proud amateur painter, and bongo player. He liked to pursue a variety of seemingly unrelated interests, such as art, percussion, Maya hieroglyphics and lock picking.
An all round Renaissance man, he was also a scientist of the highest calibre. He got a perfect score for his Princeton University entrance exams and in 1965 he won the Nobel prize for Physics.
He was however also deeply involved in life and was as far from being locked away in an ivory tower as it is possible to imagine. His junior role on the Manhattan project that developed the atomic bomb during WWII is one example. Another was his role in 1986 on the Rogers Commission into the Challenger Space Shuttle Disaster just 2 years before his death in 1988
He was perhaps one of the first true popularisers of science. He had a reputation for taking great care to make his explanations of complex mathematics and physics accessible and understandable even to undergraduates, that being his test of whether a topic was understood. To espouse a philosophy that sought to be both at the "top table" so to speak in his field and actively contribute to "deepening" the understanding yet still make diligent efforts to include all in his endevours and broaden their understanding speaks volumes for the man
The name of this blog is the name of a lecture that Feynman gave in 1959 which became famous as one the intellectual origins of nanotechnology. I think it is rather wonderful that one can find these sorts of things on the web; not just the "someone said something about something" type of information but the primary source material too.
http://www.zyvex.com/nanotech/feynman.html
A clue to how prescient Feynman was is given by the fact that the prize Feynman offers in his lecture was claimed just 11 months later in November 1960. Read the terms of the challenge again and think about what wasn't available in 1960!
Those who may have read James Gleick book on the emergence of Chaos Theory (Chaos Theory, The Making of a New Science) will know of course know of Gleick's admiration for the work of Mr Feynman. The American crime series Numbers is also fond of quoting Feynman at suitable moments as they break off into their wizzy let Hollywood explain particle physics to you kind of way.
The Wikipedia article on Feynman describes him as perhaps the most famous scientist in the 60's. Famed as a lecturer and teacher of the highest calbre, the book of his lectures (The Feynman Lectures on Physics) is still in print and is regarded as one of the most accessible undergraduate textbooks even today.
He was also regarded as an eccentric and free spirit. He was a prankster, juggler, safecracker, proud amateur painter, and bongo player. He liked to pursue a variety of seemingly unrelated interests, such as art, percussion, Maya hieroglyphics and lock picking.
An all round Renaissance man, he was also a scientist of the highest calibre. He got a perfect score for his Princeton University entrance exams and in 1965 he won the Nobel prize for Physics.
He was however also deeply involved in life and was as far from being locked away in an ivory tower as it is possible to imagine. His junior role on the Manhattan project that developed the atomic bomb during WWII is one example. Another was his role in 1986 on the Rogers Commission into the Challenger Space Shuttle Disaster just 2 years before his death in 1988
He was perhaps one of the first true popularisers of science. He had a reputation for taking great care to make his explanations of complex mathematics and physics accessible and understandable even to undergraduates, that being his test of whether a topic was understood. To espouse a philosophy that sought to be both at the "top table" so to speak in his field and actively contribute to "deepening" the understanding yet still make diligent efforts to include all in his endevours and broaden their understanding speaks volumes for the man
The name of this blog is the name of a lecture that Feynman gave in 1959 which became famous as one the intellectual origins of nanotechnology. I think it is rather wonderful that one can find these sorts of things on the web; not just the "someone said something about something" type of information but the primary source material too.
http://www.zyvex.com/nanotech/feynman.html
A clue to how prescient Feynman was is given by the fact that the prize Feynman offers in his lecture was claimed just 11 months later in November 1960. Read the terms of the challenge again and think about what wasn't available in 1960!
Saturday, 27 February 2010
Falling off the pedestal
The British press has been getting a hard time in Vancover for their coverage of the Winter Olympics. Seems they are not sufficiently sycophantic and have veered dangerously close to telling it like it is. Not quite the done thing chaps apparently.
One of the more telling criticisms of the Canadians that I have read concerns their inability to understand how their attitude was coming across. Promoting slogans about "Owning the Podium" seem to have back fired spectacularly. Indeed we seem to have seen a very different side of the Canadian psyche. One that is highly competitive and dangerously close to an American style tunnel vision of winning at all costs.
An example of this occured when a Canadian luge competitor innocently expressed his frustration that, now that the course had been shortened and changed slightly following the death of the Georgian luge competitor, he had lost his home town advantage. "I had practised more than 200 times on the course and now i have to go back to square one". Apparently not appreciating that no-one else had had a chance to practice 200 times on the course and that he was now simply in the same boat as everyone else. And insensitively dismissing the Georgian's death by failing to acknowledge the tragic accident that led to the change.
And there was the incident with the British skeleton competitor who won gold on a hi-tech sled designed by an engineering student studying sled design for his doctorate. The Canadians (and Americans) promptly appealed against the design of her helmet! (Which was dismissively rejected). The Canadians however seemed blithely unaware of the irony of this complaint coming from a nation that funded 55 "secret" programmes to try and gain a competitive advantage in a range of winter sports. They funded programmes to develop new training methods for speed skaters and a range of other initiatives designed to achieve exactly what the British did with the sled design. Not exactly the sportsmanship one would have expected from the "nice" Canadians.
The "Own The Podium" programme was apparently a five year $120M project designed to get Canada to the top of the medal table. No-one seems to have stopped and stepped back to think how all of this would come across. Just read this website from a couple of days before the start of the Games:
Vancover 2010 Olympics - 11 Feb
The London Olympic team have also apparently been observing the alleged debacle that is the organisation of the Vancover Games. British press coverage has compared the Vancover Games to the Atlanta Summer Games in 1996, universally acknowledged as the nadir of Games organisation. No doubt the Canadians will have the microscopes out for London, however there is the suggestion that the impact of these Games will rumble on for years, both in financial terms and in terms of damage to Canada's reputation
One of the more telling criticisms of the Canadians that I have read concerns their inability to understand how their attitude was coming across. Promoting slogans about "Owning the Podium" seem to have back fired spectacularly. Indeed we seem to have seen a very different side of the Canadian psyche. One that is highly competitive and dangerously close to an American style tunnel vision of winning at all costs.
An example of this occured when a Canadian luge competitor innocently expressed his frustration that, now that the course had been shortened and changed slightly following the death of the Georgian luge competitor, he had lost his home town advantage. "I had practised more than 200 times on the course and now i have to go back to square one". Apparently not appreciating that no-one else had had a chance to practice 200 times on the course and that he was now simply in the same boat as everyone else. And insensitively dismissing the Georgian's death by failing to acknowledge the tragic accident that led to the change.
And there was the incident with the British skeleton competitor who won gold on a hi-tech sled designed by an engineering student studying sled design for his doctorate. The Canadians (and Americans) promptly appealed against the design of her helmet! (Which was dismissively rejected). The Canadians however seemed blithely unaware of the irony of this complaint coming from a nation that funded 55 "secret" programmes to try and gain a competitive advantage in a range of winter sports. They funded programmes to develop new training methods for speed skaters and a range of other initiatives designed to achieve exactly what the British did with the sled design. Not exactly the sportsmanship one would have expected from the "nice" Canadians.
The "Own The Podium" programme was apparently a five year $120M project designed to get Canada to the top of the medal table. No-one seems to have stopped and stepped back to think how all of this would come across. Just read this website from a couple of days before the start of the Games:
Vancover 2010 Olympics - 11 Feb
The London Olympic team have also apparently been observing the alleged debacle that is the organisation of the Vancover Games. British press coverage has compared the Vancover Games to the Atlanta Summer Games in 1996, universally acknowledged as the nadir of Games organisation. No doubt the Canadians will have the microscopes out for London, however there is the suggestion that the impact of these Games will rumble on for years, both in financial terms and in terms of damage to Canada's reputation
Sunday, 21 February 2010
Another year older
Michael turned 13 last week. A teenager. Another teenager. As his uncle said:
"He cant be 13; he was only born yesterday!"
His uncle also gave him his first mobile phone for his birthday. Michael was so impressed. He felt so grown up and wandered about for days playing with it wanting to text every Tom Dick and Harry. Even replaced the Playstation for a short while as the object of his affections.
Costandina also has a new short hair style. Major change folks. These things are important.
From this
"He cant be 13; he was only born yesterday!"
His uncle also gave him his first mobile phone for his birthday. Michael was so impressed. He felt so grown up and wandered about for days playing with it wanting to text every Tom Dick and Harry. Even replaced the Playstation for a short while as the object of his affections.
Costandina also has a new short hair style. Major change folks. These things are important.
From this
to this
Some people just dont get it
I thought i'd share a picture that i came across a couple of years ago when our friend Libby came over and bought a booklet of postcards. This picture appealed to my sense of humour and I put it up on my work pc as my desktop. Only to find that almost no-one got my sense of humour. They think i am very strange at work. I am pretty sure they put it down to a strange Australian perversion and only tolerated it because of the generally warm affection with which they hold Australians
Strange, i still think its very very funny. I mean after all what else would you put in a skip and need to tell people not to do!
Strange, i still think its very very funny. I mean after all what else would you put in a skip and need to tell people not to do!
Tuesday, 9 February 2010
A tale of two faces
Last night Sonya wanted to play Michael at backgammon as part of our parental attempts to show Michael that there was value in interacting with other humans and not just spending all of his time on Playstation. Michael put on his uber arogant mode and said he didn't feel like it because she was too easy. (Michael I might add is quite good at Backgammon).
Not to be intimidated Sonya said "Rack em up boy". Unfortunately Michael proceeded to "cream" his mother, all the while keeping up a running commentary about the stupidity of her moves. "Lucky first time, put them up again"said Sonya only for the result to be the same.
Ok Plan B - move to checkers!
Again Michael kept up a constant chatter of whisles and popping noises that seemed to make sense to him but not to us. No amount of stern admonishments would shut him up. Clucking with disdain he once again proceeded to comprehensively beat his mother 2-0.
Clearly it was time for bed and despite his howls that it wasn't time we packed him off for his shower. There is only so much one can take!
I was saying to Sonya that if he behaves like this at school very soon some older boy will beat him up to teach him a lesson. We couldn't help thinking that this couldn't come a moment too soon.
The irony is that we are fairly sure Michael behaves quite differently at school. He seems to really enjoy school and takes it quite seriously. He even gets frustrated when the other kids distract him in class. Clearly a case of Dr Jeckyll and Mr Hyde!
Not to be intimidated Sonya said "Rack em up boy". Unfortunately Michael proceeded to "cream" his mother, all the while keeping up a running commentary about the stupidity of her moves. "Lucky first time, put them up again"said Sonya only for the result to be the same.
Ok Plan B - move to checkers!
Again Michael kept up a constant chatter of whisles and popping noises that seemed to make sense to him but not to us. No amount of stern admonishments would shut him up. Clucking with disdain he once again proceeded to comprehensively beat his mother 2-0.
Clearly it was time for bed and despite his howls that it wasn't time we packed him off for his shower. There is only so much one can take!
I was saying to Sonya that if he behaves like this at school very soon some older boy will beat him up to teach him a lesson. We couldn't help thinking that this couldn't come a moment too soon.
The irony is that we are fairly sure Michael behaves quite differently at school. He seems to really enjoy school and takes it quite seriously. He even gets frustrated when the other kids distract him in class. Clearly a case of Dr Jeckyll and Mr Hyde!
Quotable quotes
Michael and I were walking to school the other day on a particularly cold morning. Whilst we were rugged up with scarves, gloves and hat; Michael nonetheless turned to me and said:
"Dad, the cold is eating my face!"
"Dad, the cold is eating my face!"
Local History - Part Duex
One thing that struck me about the map from 1857 was how Streatham was still very much laid out as a village with the houses grouped along the main road in small clusters.
This is despite London being the largest city in the world at that stage with a population of nearly 3.2M.
Just 6 years earlier England had held the Great Exhibition of 1851 to showcase Victorian pomp and affluence to the world and Joseph Paxton had built his famous "Crystal Palace" that was to give the suburb its subsequent name. The site of Paxton's building is just a few miles from our house along the ridge at the top of Streatham Common. Despite all this activity nearby however Streatham was still clearly a village.
This is despite London being the largest city in the world at that stage with a population of nearly 3.2M.
Just 6 years earlier England had held the Great Exhibition of 1851 to showcase Victorian pomp and affluence to the world and Joseph Paxton had built his famous "Crystal Palace" that was to give the suburb its subsequent name. The site of Paxton's building is just a few miles from our house along the ridge at the top of Streatham Common. Despite all this activity nearby however Streatham was still clearly a village.
Victorian properity and successive waves of immigrants fleeing famine and persecution from the continent in the second half of the 19C saw London's population continue to expand rapidly until it was over 7M by 1910.
The big impetus however that led to the suburbanisation of Streatham and the building of our home by the 1890's was the opening of the railway station at the bottom of our road in 1862. The Victorians were nothing if not railway builders and this clearly allowed London's population expand into ever more comfortable suburbs around the capital.
This expansion contined into the 20C with the other side of the main road becoming suburbanised after the turn of the century. These roads are still home to many lovely large Edwardian family homes that clearly reflected the growing prosperity of Streatham.Just a pity we couldn't afford to buy one when we were looking to buy our house. I'm sure we wouldn't have liked them anyway.
Monday, 8 February 2010
A bit of local history
Last year a developer put in a Planning Application to redevelop a warehouse and office site on the main road just up from our house. As part of the application they were required to prepare an archeaolgocial survey of the area. This was posted online and allowed us to discover a wealth of information about our house courtesy of the wonderful old maps that were included in the study.
We discovered that the main road is roughly along the alignment of the old Roman Road from London to Brighton although no roman artefacts have been recovered in the area. Apparently the local church about a mile and a half up the road occupies a site where a church has stood since the the thirteenth century. Streatham apparently remained a small colection of buildings throughout the Middle Ages. A map from 1745 however shows a muber of interesting features.
Streatham Common was already a cleared open area of land. The Duke of Bedfordshire had a large mansion up the road opposite what was to become Streatham station and is now the site of a council estate. Up the road beside the Common was a large mansion house which was to become the home of the Tate family whose name is given to the Tate Galleries in London. Our plot shown in the red star was just farmland.
A map from 1857 shows that Streatham Common had now become bordered by roads and an India Rubber factory was in place up the road at what is now the local supermarket. (yellow arrow) The long building shown indistinctly between the labels on the map is still there and now houses some offices and the Sainbury Cafe. Our house was still just farmland (red arrow).
By 1898 however suburbia was encroaching and our road had now been developed and built out. Interesting just around the corner the Guildersfield Fish pond is shown in the map of this date. I wonder whether it was recreational pond for the Victorians to amble around; however it seems to be set in the rear garden of a large building so perhaps it was not open to the public. I wonder then why it was labelled on the map. And as a result of this map we know our house dates from at least 1898.
We discovered that the main road is roughly along the alignment of the old Roman Road from London to Brighton although no roman artefacts have been recovered in the area. Apparently the local church about a mile and a half up the road occupies a site where a church has stood since the the thirteenth century. Streatham apparently remained a small colection of buildings throughout the Middle Ages. A map from 1745 however shows a muber of interesting features.
Streatham Common was already a cleared open area of land. The Duke of Bedfordshire had a large mansion up the road opposite what was to become Streatham station and is now the site of a council estate. Up the road beside the Common was a large mansion house which was to become the home of the Tate family whose name is given to the Tate Galleries in London. Our plot shown in the red star was just farmland.
A map from 1857 shows that Streatham Common had now become bordered by roads and an India Rubber factory was in place up the road at what is now the local supermarket. (yellow arrow) The long building shown indistinctly between the labels on the map is still there and now houses some offices and the Sainbury Cafe. Our house was still just farmland (red arrow).
By 1898 however suburbia was encroaching and our road had now been developed and built out. Interesting just around the corner the Guildersfield Fish pond is shown in the map of this date. I wonder whether it was recreational pond for the Victorians to amble around; however it seems to be set in the rear garden of a large building so perhaps it was not open to the public. I wonder then why it was labelled on the map. And as a result of this map we know our house dates from at least 1898.
Friday, 5 February 2010
Two particular English delights
The other weekend we went for a walk with our good friends Karen and Graham and their twin teenage kids. It was a cold and muddy day and the ramble took us over a sufficient number of boggy fields to fully coats our boots with a thick gelatinous layer of clay that added about 2kg to each foot. As you can tell therefore it wasnt the day that was the delight! The company was fine and I supose once you got a bit a bit of a head of steam up and the rosie glow came to your cheeks the cold wasn't too bad either. However the delights were elsewhere.
On the walk we passed the wonderfully named Ightham Mote. (How can you go wrong with a name like that eh!) This is a wonderfully restored moated manor house that is still largely intact from when it was built in 1320 and then extended in Elizabethan times. It was in fact the largest and most costly National Trust restoration job ever - in excess of £10M. We have visited there before and today was just a walk past it along the country lane. But it reminded me of the wonderful sense of history that lurks in hidden corners all over England. The building has been lovingly restored and captures all the quirky history down through the ages
You can see more pictures on the National Trust website link - Ightham Mote pictures
The other delight was the pub we stopped at afterwards. Log fires, fantastic beer, really good food - everything a pub should be. When they are done well, English pubs are magnificent institutions.
Graham and me had a serious discussion at the bar as we were getting one of the rounds about trying to reverse the decision that we should drive back instead of the women. It didnt succeed but we had a lovely afternoon. A brisk walk and two pints of Old Speckled Hen - job done
On the walk we passed the wonderfully named Ightham Mote. (How can you go wrong with a name like that eh!) This is a wonderfully restored moated manor house that is still largely intact from when it was built in 1320 and then extended in Elizabethan times. It was in fact the largest and most costly National Trust restoration job ever - in excess of £10M. We have visited there before and today was just a walk past it along the country lane. But it reminded me of the wonderful sense of history that lurks in hidden corners all over England. The building has been lovingly restored and captures all the quirky history down through the ages
You can see more pictures on the National Trust website link - Ightham Mote pictures
The other delight was the pub we stopped at afterwards. Log fires, fantastic beer, really good food - everything a pub should be. When they are done well, English pubs are magnificent institutions.
Graham and me had a serious discussion at the bar as we were getting one of the rounds about trying to reverse the decision that we should drive back instead of the women. It didnt succeed but we had a lovely afternoon. A brisk walk and two pints of Old Speckled Hen - job done
Please tell me this isnt happening
An amazing thing happened tonight. Australia made it onto the news. Well the news over here. And it wasn't the news so much as Newsnight - an altogether more indepth forum on BBC2 . (This topic of what makes news over is one I will be returning too)
The news story that prompted this interest was the recent rise in the polls of Tony Abbott and the recalculation Kevin Rudd is having to make about whether to call a double dissolution over climate change. The BBC reporter suggested that the combination of the faliure of Copenhagen to agree a coherant post Kyoto policy; the loss of Massachusetts and Obama's loss of his filibuster proof 60th Senate seat and the frankly ridiculously overblown claims of "Climategate" and the doctoring of climate change data had taken the wind out of climate change proposals around the world. The BBC reporter went on to link these events with the apparent resurgence of Abbott in the opinion polls.
Please tell me the Australia isnt going to be so stupid as to get behind Toxic Tony. Please tell me that it is only a vocal minority of conservative farmers that are raising up a dust storm; that common sense will prevail and Australians will get off the bloody fence and take a political stand for once.
Despite the political equation regarding climate change having changed in recent weeks, the uderlying issues haven't. We still need to do something about it and we still need political leadership on the issue - now more than ever. Knee jerk populist politicians like Abbott need to be taken on - not on popularity contests but on leadership and statesmanship.
Interestingly over here where there are just as many climate change issues to confront as in Australia, one of the huge issues that is about to burst like flood over the complacent populace is the steeply rising energy bills they will soon face. The issue here is how to improve the woeful energy performance of the typical English home. In the last 10 years the energy performance standards that new homes are required to be built to over here has been rachetting up exponentially. To the point where now homes built today use nearly 45% less energy than they did just 5 years ago let alone compared with a solid walled Victorian semi detached house like ours. The trouble however is that the vast majority of homes are woeful as far as energy usage.
One of the most promising developments is a new scheme caled Pay As You Save in which institutional investors like pension funds loan money to upgrade the thermal performance of old homes and the loan is paid back through the energy companies levying an additional charge on top of their energy bills. The funders secure their loan with a charge on the property so that if the property is sold it passes onto the new purchaser. The energy companies collect the loan repayments as part of the current billing arrangements so that no new debt enforcement options are required. This is all possible because recent trials have shown that the improvements save more in reduced bills than it costs to pay back the loan. The two kickers that makes this work is the fact that energy bills have risen so much that the potential savings have now become significant and getting the institutional investors on board who can take a suitably long term view about yields and repayments
What we dont need is people like Abbott deluding everybody into thinking that all we need to do is plant a few more trees.
I trust everyone will be mobilising to mount the rebuttal demonstrations to those red neck farmers they showed congregating on the lawns in front of Parliment House! I await glued to the box for the coverage
The news story that prompted this interest was the recent rise in the polls of Tony Abbott and the recalculation Kevin Rudd is having to make about whether to call a double dissolution over climate change. The BBC reporter suggested that the combination of the faliure of Copenhagen to agree a coherant post Kyoto policy; the loss of Massachusetts and Obama's loss of his filibuster proof 60th Senate seat and the frankly ridiculously overblown claims of "Climategate" and the doctoring of climate change data had taken the wind out of climate change proposals around the world. The BBC reporter went on to link these events with the apparent resurgence of Abbott in the opinion polls.
Please tell me the Australia isnt going to be so stupid as to get behind Toxic Tony. Please tell me that it is only a vocal minority of conservative farmers that are raising up a dust storm; that common sense will prevail and Australians will get off the bloody fence and take a political stand for once.
Despite the political equation regarding climate change having changed in recent weeks, the uderlying issues haven't. We still need to do something about it and we still need political leadership on the issue - now more than ever. Knee jerk populist politicians like Abbott need to be taken on - not on popularity contests but on leadership and statesmanship.
Interestingly over here where there are just as many climate change issues to confront as in Australia, one of the huge issues that is about to burst like flood over the complacent populace is the steeply rising energy bills they will soon face. The issue here is how to improve the woeful energy performance of the typical English home. In the last 10 years the energy performance standards that new homes are required to be built to over here has been rachetting up exponentially. To the point where now homes built today use nearly 45% less energy than they did just 5 years ago let alone compared with a solid walled Victorian semi detached house like ours. The trouble however is that the vast majority of homes are woeful as far as energy usage.
One of the most promising developments is a new scheme caled Pay As You Save in which institutional investors like pension funds loan money to upgrade the thermal performance of old homes and the loan is paid back through the energy companies levying an additional charge on top of their energy bills. The funders secure their loan with a charge on the property so that if the property is sold it passes onto the new purchaser. The energy companies collect the loan repayments as part of the current billing arrangements so that no new debt enforcement options are required. This is all possible because recent trials have shown that the improvements save more in reduced bills than it costs to pay back the loan. The two kickers that makes this work is the fact that energy bills have risen so much that the potential savings have now become significant and getting the institutional investors on board who can take a suitably long term view about yields and repayments
What we dont need is people like Abbott deluding everybody into thinking that all we need to do is plant a few more trees.
I trust everyone will be mobilising to mount the rebuttal demonstrations to those red neck farmers they showed congregating on the lawns in front of Parliment House! I await glued to the box for the coverage
Sunday, 17 January 2010
Fog on the motorway
Taking Costandina back to Winchester last night we ended up driving through quite a lot of fog on the motorway.
It was dark and the misty rain slowly started to thicken as we sped along the black road. There weren't many cars about and so we would only accassionaly catch up with the flared red beacon of another car.
The mist began to thicken until the floodlights on the motorway were shrouded in a ghostly grey. They shed feeble cones of watery light but served to show the rolling curves of the road ahead. The path of our headlights illuminated off the fog and every so often we would hit a patch right down at road level. The car would cleave through the soft silent tendrils and burst through into a more open patch of road.
The big motorway signs appeared to loom suddently out of the grey no longer as well illuminated by headlights dimmed by fog.
The thwack thwack of the wipers and Costandina's new CD's kept us company in our cocoon as the fog and rain ebbed and flowed outside.
All in all quite an ethereal spectral kind of trip. Then again it could have just been my rubbish eyesight wearing a pair of glasses with an out of date prescription as I continue to wait for my new pair to arrive
It was dark and the misty rain slowly started to thicken as we sped along the black road. There weren't many cars about and so we would only accassionaly catch up with the flared red beacon of another car.
The mist began to thicken until the floodlights on the motorway were shrouded in a ghostly grey. They shed feeble cones of watery light but served to show the rolling curves of the road ahead. The path of our headlights illuminated off the fog and every so often we would hit a patch right down at road level. The car would cleave through the soft silent tendrils and burst through into a more open patch of road.
The big motorway signs appeared to loom suddently out of the grey no longer as well illuminated by headlights dimmed by fog.
The thwack thwack of the wipers and Costandina's new CD's kept us company in our cocoon as the fog and rain ebbed and flowed outside.
All in all quite an ethereal spectral kind of trip. Then again it could have just been my rubbish eyesight wearing a pair of glasses with an out of date prescription as I continue to wait for my new pair to arrive
Messing about
Some pictures of us on the dolphin cruise at Jervis Bay. Plus one to prove saw some dolphins
Wentworth Falls
Some pictures of the Wentworth Falls in the Blue Mountains before we got drenched by a sudden downpour
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