The House Husband

I just read my entry for two years ago. I was snow bound. No taxi would take the dogs to Frensham; we didn’t go to Paris. It was a very cold winter. Not so this year! I’d call it mild – Mirinda will probably contradict me though.

The weekend has been mainly about Mirinda’s essay for her DBA. Being the bibliography whiz, I was tasked with making it all look pretty and consistent with what the uni expects. I also read it. Here are some salient points:

• The government wants more kids at university
• The UK doesn’t have enough university places
• The government can’t afford to subsidize university students
• Prospective students do not like having to pay for stuff
• The capitalist system works as well as any other
• Profit is the result of supply and demand
• So, the UK needs for-profit universities

But she said it in around 9,500 words. With one fantastic looking bibliography. Actually it has now been sent off. So that’s that…now on to the next one. I get a break till it’s nearing completion.

As for me, I completed my first DIY job since breaking my wrist. I discovered that although my wrist feels strong and types really well again, it can’t do the simplest of things. Like hold a nail while my right hand wields a hammer. It’s irritating, to say the least!

Anyway, I managed with a bit of straining, unnatural twisting and swearing each time I dropped something.

Our new dinner gong

Mirinda bought this Arts & Crafts gong on ebay a few months ago and it’s just been waiting for me to put it up. I was wondering where it could go and then, last night, I had a stroke of inspiration. Rather than in the dining room, how about attached to the bannister in the hallway? I think it fits in perfectly.

It also beats yelling upstairs when it’s time to eat. Given we normally eat in the lounge, I can just strike the gong as I walk by. How very civilised.

I didn’t manage to get any photographs of wild beasts today – the weather was quite gloomy and I think they all went away for the weekend – but I did manage to get quite a good shot of the clock on the building at the bottom of Castle Street. This was the site of the market square (a very long time ago) but is now an impressive building with a big sailing ship weather vane (I’m sure I’ve posted a photo of it before). Under the ship is a bell and under the bell is this clock. I’m surprised someone hasn’t stolen the copper sheeting.

Clock on Castle Street

I listened to my sports report from Thursday’s Talking Newspaper and think it’s quite funny. It’s important to note that the other readers were all trying not to laugh. Here it is:

Farnham Sport

And I have completed essay number four! Submitted this evening, before dinner. So that’s me finished. Well, except for my dissertation anyway. But that can wait for a few days. I’m going to celebrate!

When Mirinda asked how I was going to celebrate I told her I was going to read a book…for pleasure. And I have picked the book. Richard Dawkins’ newest book (The Greatest Show on Earth) has just come out in paperback where he proves that evolution is more than just a theory. I bought it at the Science Museum on Friday and will start reading it tonight. Actually I started on the train, coming back from the flat on Sunday, but I only read the first chapter. And it promises to be a great roller coaster of a read.

So most of today was taken up by essay writing (about eBooks and eReaders, in case anyone is interested). I took a couple of breaks (walking the poodles, shopping) but basically I was tied to my chair, my fingers bashing the keys with a clear view of the finish line. I did, however, take a little time to admire the garden.

The final tulips to bloom are the ones Mirinda bought home from Holland. They are called ‘Queen of the Night’ and are supposed to be black. They are actually very deep purple because black is not present in nature. They have taken the longest to appear. In fact some are still just buds. And so, to celebrate the end of my essays and the last of our tulips, here is a photo.

Queen of the Night tulips from Amsterdam to Farnham

I had a pretty busy day today. And a long one due to Carmen deciding I needed to wake up at 5:45! Rotten dog. And then, to douse insult over injury, she had an FSI during our walk in the park. I never plan a bath buffer into my days so I end up rushing her through the shampooing and rinsing and towelling off. Still, it’s her own fault. Actually I think she prefers it when it doesn’t last too long. Anyway, she then was all fresh and fluffy.

I put some time into my fourth and final essay, downloading lots of lovely articles about eReaders and eBooks. Annoyingly, when searching for them, I had to run three separate searches because they are called, variously, eBooks, e-books and e books! Oddly, this formed part of a point I made in the conclusion I drew for my previous essay with regard to automatic indexing. So, quite handy, really.

After a few loads of washing between study, I was off to record the Talking Newspaper for the month. Our presenter today was Prudence. She straightaway told us we had to be nice to her because it was her saint’s feast day. When I asked what she was known for, Prudence shrugged then said

“There’s something about wind.” Which made everyone look up, “If it’s windy, the sheets will dance.”

Quite surreal. Anyway, having consulted my Oxford Dictionary of Saints, there doesn’t appear to BE a Saint Prudence! I decided to spread my search a little further. I asked the Catholic Online website, which purports to have the largest list of saints EVER. The closest thing to a St Prudence is two saints called Prudentius, both of whom were bishops and, clearly, men. One has no feast day and the other is on April 6. I think someone has sold Prudence a turnip painted as a carrot. Still, we were nice to her anyway so it doesn’t really matter.

We were also regaled with stories from Ann, who was one of my fellow readers. She was having a moan about the Scots and, by way of illustration, told the story of her trip up the east coast of Australia. They’d travelled from Sydney to Cairns and started having a chat with an old Queenslander. When they said how far they’d travelled he was amazed. He’d not been any further than Brisbane his whole life and here they were travelling all that way. Ann’s husband said he had lived in England all his life and never travelled to Scotland. The old bloke then said:

“Why the bloody hell would you go to Scotland?”

We all laughed and then I said, in my broadest Australian accent:

“Why the bloody hell would you go to Cairns?”

They then set about laughing at my new hat, declaring it should have corks around the brim. They also asked if I was trying to bring on the summer weather – it was quite overcast all morning. I laughed and smiled politely.

After recording this weeks issue of the Haslemere Herald, Liphook Herald and the Messenger, I was off to the shops to buy my dinner and then to the TA Queen’s Barracks where my polling station is. For today was election day. I did my bit for democracy by placing a cross in the appropriate box. Actually I only really made up my mind this morning. I’m one of those horrid swing voters the parties hate so much. I glory in being so choosy.

But really, I don’t understand party loyalty and always voting for the same group of politicians. I reckon if you’re going to do that you should just have a permanent vote which gets counted and you don’t bother going up there on the day. Voting should be for people who want representation for the community not for the ones who only adhere to the tenets of a club.

Anyway, I did that then wandered up to the hospital to pick up some drugs for Mirinda, finally arriving home at about 4:30pm.

And, of course, due to my hat wearing, the weather has turned lovely. I spent a good half an hour burning rubbish with Carmen for company. When it’s warm, she likes lying flat with her belly on the grass. She looks so comfy, I took her photo.

Carmen chills

I have to admit that on the way home I didn’t see any dancing sheets.

Tra-loo tra-ley, oh happy day!
I’ve finally finished, my third essay!

This afternoon I hit the submit button and sent it flying off into the ether. It was a tough essay but I managed to struggle through. I now know an awful lot about automatic indexing and other fun cataloguing things.

Actually, and being dreadfully honest, I did enjoy it really. Once I did a lot of reading and started writing in earnest, it went quite well. When I read the essay question it was terribly daunting. And finishing it today wasn’t that easy after spending the night with Nicktor.

As usual, it was a jolly good time. We had dinner down at the Six Bells, the chef obviously over his tummy bug, and a few pints of Ruddles. We had burgers which were very tasty but my bun disintegrated. It was a delicate little morsel of bread, far too small for the meat which effectively hid it. When I picked it up to eat it, it just fell apart. Nicktor’s didn’t because he used a knife and fork. To eat a burger! I mean, really. I bet he uses cutlery eating pizza too.

We then went back to the house and watched Fargo, a fantastic movie I hadn’t seen for a while. I wasn’t sure Nicktor would like it but he thought it was as wonderful as it is. We then watched three episodes of The Inbetweeners, an English show which is only for men with childish, puerile senses of humour. I’ve seen them before but Nicktor enjoyed it so much, it was like watching it for the first time. We both laughed like silly boys.

I am sitting watching the Snooker World Championship which Neil Robertson is leading 14 – 12 at the moment. If he wins he’ll be the first Australian to ever win it. We visited his dressing room earlier and he has a massive Australian flag in there.

The pressure is getting to him though and his natural fast and accurate game is starting to suffer. Fortunately so is the game of his opponent, Graeme Dott. It could go right down to the wire. It’s the first to 18 frames.
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So this morning, after I escorted Mirinda to the station for her marathon trip to Dublin, I sat down at my computer and started my third essay in earnest. All I had was the title and the single word ‘introduction’.

Apart from a few small breaks to walk the dogs, go shopping and a brief potter in the garden, I worked solidly all day. At 7:30 when I decided to have dinner, I’d written 2,200 words. Pretty remarkable for such a dull topic. It’s due next Monday morning but I think I can finish it without a problem now.

Mirinda kept me posted all day as she travelled across the country, telling me how beautiful Wales was and how noisy the Irish boys in her carriage were. She finally made her hotel (which I chose and, fortunately, was comfortable) and I rang her to say good night.
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There’s a huge bout of safety play in the snooker at the moment with both players making silly mistakes then playing brilliant shots. There’s only three points separating them and there’s still two red balls left. So far there has been 21 safety shots since the last pot. The tension is very high.

Of course, if Mirinda was here she’d just say everyone is just coughing and fall asleep, but I’m loving it.

Dott made the big mistake and Robertson cleared the reds and the colours up to the brown. So Dott is still in with a chance. He needs all the remaining colours. He pots the brown but the blue is very difficult to pot and he plays safe. Robertson comes back to the table and plays a terrible safety shot, leaving the blue in the open but not clear enough for Dott to sink.

This frame has been going for 40 minutes. A few more safety shots and Dott has a possible blue but with an impossible pink to follow. He sinks the blue and manages to leave the pink safe. Robertson responds with almost a snooker behind the black. It’s all very cat and mouse and the winner of this frame will have the psychological edge going into the 27th frame.

And Robertson sank a brilliant pink and he clenched his fists and grimaced with relief before leaving the arena, presumably to go to the loo. So now 15 – 12 and Dott is going to be under a good deal more pressure now.

Poor Dott plays a lousy break in the next frame and Robertson is off again. You can’t write these guys off though, they can pull amazing things out of adversity.

Robertson plays an excellent snooker but Dott pulls off a great escape and now has control of the table. But he can only make 42 and Robertson is back with a chance. But the tension gets to him as he misses a black. Dott, the fiesty Scot, now has a lifeline and he steals the frame, making it 15 – 13.

A few bad shots from both players at the start of the next frame makes it quite scrappy. Nothing has been sunk and nearly all the reds are on one side of the table. Robertson sinks the first red and then snookers Dott, leaving him to puff out his cheeks in frustration.

Robertson is starting to close the frame out as the match reaches 11 hours of play. We just saw Dickie Bird, the cricket umpire, in the audience, looking a bit tired. I understand how he feels! A bad white ball means another bout of safety play.

Carmen is snoring in the armchair as Robertson and Dott exchange safety shots and mistakes. She prefers football. She’s not missing much at the moment as it’s all safety, safety, safety. Dott makes the first mistake and Robertson is back sinking balls until he misses a sitter. He left the white in an awful position and Dott threatened to hit him with his cue.

It’s just gone midnight and they’re still playing safety. The frame is over 45 minutes long so far and they are both missing easy balls. It’s like watching a pair of old punch drunk boxers flapping helplessly at each other. And then Robertson manages to string some pots together and manages to win, taking it to 16 – 13.

Robertson just played an amazing shot to pot the black at the beginning of the new frame. He’d overrun the white but managed a tight cut, nudging a red on the way back giving him his next pot. He’s playing with a lot more confidence now, as if he’s cleared a hurdle of exhaustion and can see the finish line approaching.

From a snooker, Dott played a hit ‘n hope and almost fluked three reds. Sadly for him, it left the table for Robertson to clean up. But, again, he misses an easy shot and lets Dott back in, who plays a bad positional shot and lets out the biggest sigh I’ve ever heard at an International snooker match.

Graeme Dott is looking exhausted as he drags himself back and forth around the table. Robertson would be more than happy for him to go to bed and is trying to sink the rest of the balls obligingly. It goes to 17 – 13 and he only needs one more frame.

And it looked like Robertson was off and running and then missed a black that surprised him. Sort of like when you think you’ve put your other shoe on but halfway up the street you realise you haven’t and have to hobble back.

Poor Dott just snookered himself, played a foul and then had to stand around while the referee tried to replace the cue ball. Robertson is back in control though and starting to play like we all know he can.

I’m sitting here thinking this is going to be the most boring blog entry since the one I made during the football but then I think I’m doing it for dad and don’t care!

The commentator just said that Neil Robertson was losing 11 – 5 during the first round and had checked out of his hotel but pulled it back to win 11 – 12. Presumably he booked back into the hotel.

And he’s potting beautifully again. We just saw his mum, all nerves and pride. They’ve now been playing for over 12 hours. Graeme Dott won’t want to leave his seat if Robertson misses another shot as I think he’s asleep. Robertson only needs two reds and two colours to take the trophy home and he’s sinking them easily.

And he wins 18 – 13. The first Australian snooker world champion. Very emotional scenes as his mum comes down and wraps him in an Aussie flag. I’m going to bed.

So I’m busy getting together information for essay number three. It’s quite dull. Actually the dullest of the four. Still, it has to be finished in just over a week so that’s not long to be bored. It’s strange but this time last year I was getting my marks for my BSc and here I am almost finished my MSc! Life is mad sometimes.

For a break today I had to book train, ferry and hotel for Mirinda who is off to Dublin on Monday. Rather than me tell you about it, I’m going to make her post an entry! Were I not writing two essays, I would be on the train and ferry with her.

More important is that Aldershot beat Lincoln today 3-1. We are edging ever closer to the play-offs which means a game at Wembley. Every player’s dream. Every fan’s hope. Of course they have to go through the first round play-offs first but I’m confident. Clearly I’m also a bit simple.

Mirinda watched about 10 minutes of the snooker tonight – it was on while I waited for Match of the Day to start. During some amazing safety play where the tension kept rising, Denis Taylor said something about how exciting it was. I was nodding sagely, completely agreeing. Mirinda sat up and said, completely mystified “You have to be joking! Are we watching the same thing?” She then went to bed.

Speaking of the snooker…tomorrow sees the beginning of the final between Graeme Dott and Neil Robertson. Neil is the first non UK player to reach the final of the World Championship in 27 years. He’s Australian.

Actually, it’s really three. My assignment for Information Retrieval was in two parts. I just finished and submitted them. This is a good thing because they are due tomorrow morning by 10am.

I managed to fit in a few breaks today. Naturally, I took the puppies up to the park. It looked so lovely, I took a photo of them sitting in the avenue of trees.

The poodles sitting obediently in the Avenue of Trees, Farnham Park

For another break I mowed the lawn for the second time this year. And during the day I managed to work my way through the washing.

Anyway, I decided to celebrate finishing my essay(s) by putting the Globe photos on the website. You can see them here.

Tomorrow I have a big day. It’s my second session at the Science Museum. I have a huge mound of clean clothes to put away and then I’m off to bed.

I managed to drag myself out of bed this morning and accompany Mirinda up to the station and then it was basically a day of study.

I had a couple of breaks. One to walk the poodles who both managed to have an FSI. The upside of this is that they are both now very soft and smell nice.

That’s it for now, though. I have been staring at this screen for far too long! To bed!

Is this the pillow I see before me? Oh, I sincerely hope so.

But just before I go…here’s todays flowers. Part of my fairy circle around the tree.

Frescias in the garden looking like fried eggs.

I finished my first essay today and submitted it. I now have three to go.

Tonight we went for dinner for Mirinda’s birthday. As usual the food was fantastic. My main meal was, quite frankly, amazing. It was pork belly, which is always lovely, on a bed of cabbage with a lovely light sauce. That is not particularly odd.

However, on the left hand side of the plate was a Scotch egg with a slice of bacon leaning against it, in a small pool of tomato sauce. But this was not any normal Scotch egg! Rather than the usual pork mince, inside was black pudding and instead of a chicken egg, in the very middle was a pigeon’s egg.

It was delicious though the combination of the two dishes was a bit odd. So I ate one then I ate the other. I couldn’t see myself mixing tomato sauce with the pork belly. Never gonna happen.

Dessert, again, was interesting. It was Bakewell tart with clotted cream. If you’d never had a Bakewell tart, it was lovely. Beautifully made and delicious to eat. However, it wasn’t like a Bakewell tart. Mirinda had a mango tart thing which she said was fantastic.

Tomorrow I’m off to the Globe with the weasels to see Macbeth.

Not much happened today. I didn’t even go into Farnham. I did manage to leave the house for an hour and a half when I took the puppies to the park but otherwise I was tied to my desk!

I managed to get the most boring part of my second essay almost complete. Though I made a few pleasant diversions by cleaning the bathroom, burning the rubbish and doing all the washing as little breaks through the day.

Still, though dreary to the extreme, I think I’ve broken the back of this one and just waiting for a book to arrive for a citation for the first one. Things are looking better. I will have Monday and Tuesday to complete them both.

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One of our patches of tulips has sprouted one single flower. Although there’s about 12 in the patch. It looks a bit weird among the green foliage. The colour in this photo is a long way off correct. It’s actually a darker red with a yellow fringe around it.

Smallest tulip in the garden