Tonight I am going to blog about three news stories I spotted in the Metro, the free London paper. Actually, it used to be the only free London paper but now there seems to be a lot more. Not that that matters. The Metro is available everywhere in the capital and is handy to read on the bus or to do the sudoku when lectures get dull.

Well, I was reading it on the number 4 bus this morning on a journey that took twice as long as it should have. There is repair work going on all over Waterloo Bridge (has been since last November and is set to continue till December this year!) and it’s reduced to two lanes – that’s one in either direction. Sometimes they also close the tunnel which goes from the end of Waterloo Bridge, under The Strand, which makes the first part of journey a commuting hell. But I don’t want to blog about that!

So…I was reading the Metro and three stories struck me. I decided then that I should blog about them.

Swallows
I heard about this on the radio, almost a month ago, before reading it in the paper this morning. A flock of 76 swallows flew straight into the ground in Somerset. They tried to fly through someone’s concrete driveway. Apparently it was an awful sight. I heard a vet interviewed who was upset at being so powerless. He couldn’t understand what had happened or why. A witness described it as if they were just flying through the air.

Swallows fly in big swarms and make all sorts of beautiful shapes in the sky around dusk. Scientists believe they do this to appear a much bigger threat when they are threatened by predators. Generally they will fly into reed beds to escape. Apparently the driveway is the same colour as a reed bed, a vet said.

Granny
I hate it when a sensationalist newspaper prints a story that says one thing but decides a headline saying the opposite is more appropriate. This is one of the (many) reasons I refuse to read the Daily Mail or the Express! It doesn’t usually happen in the Metro but today it did.

The headline went something like “Granny fined and tagged for selling goldfish!” In fact, if you go to Google and put in ‘granny goldfish’, you’ll find this story everywhere doing exactly the same thing as the irresponsible journalist did in the Metro.

The story goes that this granny (I think she was 77) worked in her daughter’s pet shop. She sold a child a goldfish. This is against the law. She was fined £1000 and electronically tagged. She had a curfew imposed on her, meaning she wouldn’t be able to babysit her grandchild. The family called it legal lunacy and this is how the newspapers have pushed the story. It’s hard not agree, and most people would be so incensed by this, I doubt they’d read the final paragraphs.

It is in the final paragraphs that we discover how the family has been warned previously about animal cruelty, particularly about a cockatiel in the shop window, and have been told by the RSPCA they need to smarten themselves up or be closed down. On other ocassions they have been caught selling animals to children without an accompanying adult. The final sentence in the Metro had a quote from an RSPCA officer saying “We do not take animal cruelty lightly!” Damn right, too.

Hole in the ground
This is a rather sad story. Nero had a palace in Rome. It was called the Golden Palace (Domus Aurea) and was amazingly amazing. It sat on top of the Palatine Hill, overlooking the Forum and the Colosseum and the Circus Maximus. It had a rotating dining room which moved by way of water courses and large rock spheres. It was adorned with magnificent murals and mosaics.

Within a decade of Nero’s death (AD68) the place had been stripped of most of its building materials, filled in and built over. They weren’t too keen on Nero. It was he who fiddled as Rome burned. After the fire, he built himself the palace and taxed Rome mercilously to pay for it. Not popular. Anyway, the palace remained buried for ages and then, in the 15th century, it was rediscovered after a chap fell into a hole.

It’s been raining in Rome recently and quite heavily it seems. Well, it has weakened the roof of the palace, which was bearing a lot of weight – two metres of soil – and it all collapsed. Into the vaulted ceilings. Horror! Archaeologists are frantic, the mayor of Rome is beside himself. And, last but not least, Dawn and I walked on top of the very spot when we visited Rome in 2008. Sad face.

Ever since we changed the clocks, the rain has hardly stopped. Mirinda and the puppies have spent the last two days inside. I went shopping but otherwise spent the day inside, studying.

And then, just before 7pm, Mirinda suggested we walk to the castle. The rain had stopped and she was going a bit stir crazy. Naturally I laughed. I mean, how could I possibly go before 7:15? I told her as much. She thinks I’m a bit obsessed about The Archers.

And so, at 7:15, we left the house. As we reached the Avenue of Trees, a sea of mud spread out before us. The poodles were a bit sceptical about walking across it. We managed to get through the first bit, reaching the relatively solid grass.

All was fine except for the chill wind, until the hail started. It was lashing us, almost horizontal with the wind. We struggled to walk into it, the puppies’ ears stretched out alongside their heads, forced backwards. Carmen wanted to turn and give us a querulous glance but she was frightened her head would come off.

We didn’t make it as far as the castle. Mirinda shouted something impossible to hear. She turned, so I assumed she had suggested we return home. As soon as we started walking, the weather improved. That was mostly because the wind was now blowing from behind us.

We safely arrived home and the lovely short coated puppies took very little time to dry.

British Summer Time started in the very early hours of Sunday morning. I never change all the clocks so there’s always a few that are either an hour fast or an hour slow at various times of the year. The cooker was set during BST after I installed it last year and I couldn’t be bothered working out how to change it. So I would always subtract an hour from it. Now, it’s correct again. What’s the bet I’ll still subtract an hour.

I have managed to embed the skylark into the blog. Click the link here and it SHOULD work. Let me know if it doesn’t.

Walking back home tonight, as the rain fell, I snapped the daffs. I shall try again when the day is a bit brighter but this should give a good idea.

Crocuses no more

I gave two presentations at uni today. I was quite pleased with them both. Oh, and I have put up some photos of our trip to London on Saturday. You can see them here.

Hankley looked lovely today. It was clear and, at first, deserted. The gorse is starting to appear and small heather buds are beginning to sprout amid the brown of last year. And we heard a skylark! I’ve never heard one before and Mirinda assured me it was what we were listening to. You can hear one here. Apparently it’s endangered. I was quite surprised. Mirinda knows her birds but I wasn’t aware she could actually recognise an accent.

100 POSTS! I can’t believe it! I have managed to write almost every day since I started and now I’ve reached 100 posts. I was going to buy three birthday candles. A 1, and two 0s. I was going to put them on a small cupcake. I was going to post the picture here. I couldn’t find any in Farnham. So, I guess, apart from a fishmongers, there isn’t a candle seller here either. Anyway, Happy Anniversary to me!

And, to celebrate, today I went to Canary Wharf with Mirinda to check out her final list of flats. As usual, I waited for her to view about 450 of them then let her cross off all but four. She then set up appointments for us to view them today. I was much more excited about seeing Canary Wharf.

So, up at 6 and out of the house by 7:30, on the 8am train from Farnham. The plan was to meet at 9:30 by the statue of the guy on the horse (near Bank Station) which should have been very easy. The Waterloo & City line leaves from Waterloo and goes one stop, to Bank. Sadly, it wasn’t running because of stupid engineering work (I find very interesting that they call it ‘engineering work’. Does that mean a whole bunch of engineers are down there, checking it out, building bridges, checking stresses? Or does it REALLY mean, maintenance work but they like to make it sound more important?) so I was forced to take the Northern Line to Tottenham Court Road and change for the District Line. Not that it made any difference. I arrived at 9:30 and still beat Mirinda who had to walk down the road from the flat.

And so to the DLR (Docklands Light Railway). It takes about 3 days to find the platform then the actual trip to Canary Wharf takes about 10 minutes. I’m pretty sure we walked most of the way, just underground. So down about 2 miles, following arrows down long staircases. The train, on the other hand, rises almost vertical in the shaft until the day suddenly appears.

The rest of the trip is a bit like a very slow roller coaster. The carriages are quite comfortable though a bit wobbly. Very pleasant, however, is the fact that it’s all above ground.

Canary Wharf Station is amazing. It’s an entire world of shops underground. Like Logan’s Run except with all age groups. And there is everything there. From here, we took a side entrance and returned to the real world, where we traipsed all around Canary Wharf, admiring the wonderfully modern buildings, boats called Josephine and multi-universe traffic lights.

Canary Wharf

We wandered around a lot more before sauntering into Carluccio’s. Unfortunately. We were ignored. And then they managed to bring us the wrong coffees. We were in there for ages. The staff eventually realised they weren’t serving us and tried to make up for it by offering me more pepper. Twice they offered me more pepper. It made little difference. Actually, to be honest, it made NO difference. I didn’t tip them. Which is a bit mean. After all, I could written something like “My tip: Do not ignore your customers.”

Not that we were rushed for time. Mirinda managed to book the viewings with about three hours between each one. Anyway, we met the realo and visited the first flat. I didn’t need to see any more. It is perfect. Nice and spacious, light, wonderful kitchen. It was previously a rental to corporate clients so it is furnished. The furnishings are included. Which is perfect.

But, of course, we HAD to see the other properties as well. Having a few hours to spare, we decided to catch the Thames Clipper over to Greenwich. Good God! It was packed. And most of them (Spanish, I think) knew each other. For some reason, they were very keen on taking photographs of one of their friends because he kept falling asleep. I am not sure what that’s about.

Greenwich was amazingly crowded. We wandered a bit and then, suddenly, Mirinda grabs then drags me into San Miguel, a Spanish tapas restaurant. Fantastic place. Lovely food, great service, nice owner. A LOT better than Carluccio’s. I totally recommend it.

San Miguel, home of excellent tapas in Greenwich

After lunch we wandered around the (no longer) Royal Naval College. An amazing place. So amazing it has it’s own monogrammed rubbish bins. Now that’s important.

Monogrammed rubbish bin, Greenwich

We decided we had to come back to Greenwich but for today our visit was limited and we boarded the Thames Clipper back across the river to Burrell’s Wharf.

Here I was dragged around three flats, all the time thinking we’d already seen the perfect flat. The realo had the weirdest boots. They had a huge bit missing on the ankle of each, exposing her flesh to the elements. It was most peculiar. And her skirt (while I’m busy assassinating her character) looked very similar to a Victorian gas light cover only not made of glass. She also wore far too much make up.

Anyway, we thanked her and boarded the next ferry to Waterloo. Mirinda asked what I thought and I repeated (for the millionth time) that the first flat had been perfect and I wasn’t sure why we hung around for the others. It turned out that she felt the same.

Come Monday morning, Mirinda will make an offer on the flat. Let’s hope we get it.

Last night was another Nicktor night. I made Morrocan meatballs and we drank beer and whisky. This week we watched True Romance, a film written by Quentin Tarantino but directed by someone else and Nurse Betty, one of my top 5 films. I’ve seen them both (in the case of Nurse Betty, MANY times) but they’re two films I never tire of. Interestingly, after last week, we both wanted to see Saw II.

He was very keen on True Romance and enjoyed it throughout. It is typically Tarantino, with lots of violence, strong language, sex and drugs and a great soundtrack. One of the amazing things about it is the number of big star names who crop up in cameo roles. A lot of short, star-studded scenes knit together a racing plot that never stops. An excellent film and Nicktor loved it, as I thought he would.

Nurse Betty, on the other hand, was clearly not his cup of tea. The pace was a bit slow and measured for him. Personally I think it’s the best thing Renee Zellweger has ever done. She is perfect as Betty, the hapless small town girl thrust into the magical world of Hollywood.

And today I found out that there’s a lot of references to The Wizard of Oz dotted throughout it. Betty is seen as a Dorothy, taken away from her own world and sent on a journey into a fantasy world containing the good and the evil of the world. I guess I’ll have to watch it a few ore times.

Clearly this is all lost on Nicktor who doesn’t like a lot of depth in his entertainment. There is NO way I’d subject him to my all time favourite film. It would be such a waste. I think I’ll leave the next choice up to him.

He also christened the new bed and gave it a huge thumbs up. In fact, he said he slept so well that he is now convinced the reason he can’t sleep at home is because the mattress needs replacing. He’s a funny boy.

We were also celebrating the sale of his red sports car as someone FINALLY bought it. It was his mid-life thing and while he regrets having to lose it, realises it was just too expensive to keep. And that’s without driving it!

Today is/was Ada Lovelace Day. For those that do not know, Ada was Lord Byron’s daughter who married a man called Lovelace and lived in East Horsley, where we lived happily for a time. She is pretty much universally accepted as the first computer programmer. She worked closely with Charles Babbage on his mathematical machine which was the first computer. Interestingly, the machine is featured in a book put out by the Science Museum but the entry, while raving about Babbage, does not mention Ada. This is not so amazing as she wasn’t credited for a long time but, eventually, her name was honoured by having a software programme named after her. It is the one used for air traffic control systems.

She was an amazing woman but died relatively young. I wonder what she could have achieved had she lived to a grand old age.

Anyway, the thing about Ada Day is that people are supposed to blog about a woman scientist who has inspired (or inspires) you. I’m going to choose Mary Beard, Head of Classics at Cambridge.

I saw her speak at the archaeology conference and have read a lot of her work. I admire her greatly. She makes the ancient world seem very real. She is an excellent speaker and writer. I read her blog every time she makes an entry.

So…happy Ada Day and salutations to Professor Beard.

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The poodles finally had their winter coats removed today. When they returned from Kate’s they had been halved in size! They are so cute.

Here’s what they looked like before they went:

A wee bit like sheep

and here they are after:

Now more like lambs

Spring has sprung a little late this year. There has been a general outpouring of grief over the total lack of daffodils. It was so bad that on the magazine programme, The One Show on BBC1, they had a daff-map and asked viewers to send in photographs of any that had appeared. The map was not very yellow!

The first (live) daffs I saw this year were in a couple of flower boxes outside Pizza Express in Castle Street, which I don’t really count. They might have been warmed up in a greenhouse before being moved!

There was a notice in the park late last year, which loudly proclaimed that 10,000 daff bulbs had been planted along the avenue of trees. This was something to look forward to! Sadly there has been no sight of any of them. Until this afternoon, that is.

Walking to the station this morning, I noted that the crocuses I photographed last week are nearly all gone, to be replaced with a fair few yellow daffodils, gradually appearing. They are spread through the terrace and along the path. They always look wonderful so I’m just waiting. I will have my camera with me.

I was at uni then at lunch with Mirinda today. I arrived home at about 4:30 so I saddled up the poodles and took them for a wonderful afternoon jaunt in the park. And, guess what? Yep. Daffs are starting to appear between the trees along the avenue! It’s starting to look wonderful. It will only get better.

After a dismal winter and a horrendously wet February, this is exactly what we need. Fresh and yellow, new buds on trees and the sun still in the sky at 7pm. Love it.

Mirinda was a bit concerned about Nicktor sleeping on our lounge. I should stress she was more concerned with Nicktor than the lounge. And rightly so. I have slept on the lounge (during bouts of illness in the house) and, while it’s very comfortable and big, it slopes towards the back. This means that when you roll over you almost suffocate against it. It also makes it difficult for Day-z to stay asleep in the crook of your legs.

So, we decided to buy Nicktor a bed. Mirinda decided how we would reshuffle her study, allowing for a single bed under the window. It meant the change in location of two big bookcases. They are now in my study, making it look a lot like a second hand book store.

I ordered a bed through the same website I used for Mirinda’s bed at her flat. They were very good so I figured they deserved our business again.

And they proved excellent again. Two days after I ordered the bed, they rang to tell me that the bed would arrive any day this week I wanted. Obviously Monday was out so I chose Tuesday.

“No problem,” the woman said. “I’ve booked it in with the couriers. If you give them a ring on Monday and give them your postcode, they’ll be able to give you a rough estimate of the delivery time.”

When I rang on Monday I was told it would arrive some time between 7 and 10:30am. Of course this meant that if I were to sleep in, it would arrive at 7 on the dot, so I was up at 6:30 and waiting for them.

He arrived while I was on the phone to mum and dad. The bed, mattress and bed-head were dropped off in about ten minutes. It was then my job to man handle it upstairs, round the bend and through the door. It was a struggle but I managed it.

I unwrapped it, fitted the wheels, fitted the bed-head and pushed it into place. It looks pretty good and is definitely very comfy. But it still lacked the most important part.

While shopping in Farnham, I popped into Elphicks and found just the thing. A pale green, all cotton, waffle blanket. When I arrived home I wasted little time in spreading it on the mattress. Now Day-z would be able to get to her window sill without leaving muddy paw prints on it. The mattress, obviously. She ALWAYS leaves muddy paw prints on the sill.

I texted Nicktor to tell him his bed had arrived.

“How exciting,” was his response.

A few weeks ago I applied to the Science Museum for a voluntary position. It’s an excellent way to get in on the ground floor for working in a museum and chances only turn up occasionally. I picked up the chance from a Tweet sent by one of the students at uni. Ah, the value of Twitter!

I hadn’t heard anything back for ages and then, on Friday, they sent me an email inviting me for an interview today. It meant skipping class but I decided it was well worth it. It also meant leaving home an hour later than normal.

Mirinda was flat hunting today so we travelled in together and parted at Waterloo. Her for the Thames Clipper and me for the Tube.

Naturally I was there early and sat on a comfy chair and waited for Oliver. Today was the start of the interviews and they’re seeing people all week. Finally, on the dot of 11, Oliver came out and invited me in.

The interview was pretty much the same as any job interview I’ve been to. The usual questions like “Tell us how you’ve put in that bit extra in a job,” and “Let us know a time you’ve improved a process.” These sort of questions I can answer, easily! Fortunately they didn’t ask any of those stupid questions like “How would you explain to an alien how entertaining radio is?”

They seemed really nice and I hope I get in. The job I’d like to get is inputting hand written documents relating to scientific glass. I have no idea what scientific glass is but it’s entering information into a spreadsheet, in preparation for it to be entered into the database. So, basically transcribing.

I’ll not find out till after Easter. So, fingers crossed!