The House Husband

The weather was very different today. All cloud and misery. Much more likely than yesterdays flirtation with sunshine.

While cleaning up the dining table for the proposed four hour meeting with the architect tomorrow, I found my uni id card. I smiled, then frowned as I read the date. I am a student no more. Sad face.

Uni id

It doesn’t seem so long ago I was just starting out at City Uni. Now I’m just an unemployed graduate.

Speaking of rubbish…we took a trip to Alton today to get rid of a few old bits of timber I removed from the garden a while back. They were railway sleepers (or very much like) that unfortunately had been treated with tar. This poisons the ground and is not a good idea!

The sun had made them sweat their black oily excretions all over the bed nearest the house so there was nought to be done but to remove them. They then sat around the side of the house for the required six months, keeping the old PC carcass company until today.

“Load up Sidney and let’s be done with hoarding those evil timbers,” proclaimed Mirinda and so Sidney was loaded and we left for Alton.

It has to be Alton because the nearest household waste place in Surrey is at Witley. As we used to live in Alton, we know about the Alton one and it is a lot closer than Witley. So, Alton is where we have to go!

Anyway, we arrived, we dumped the…actually I dumped while Mirinda played with her iPhone…timber and various other bits and pieces and then went into Alton for a coffee at Nero’s which wasn’t there when we lived in Alton.

It’s funny at the household waste place because they don’t really tell you what to do with stuff they may want to keep. The PC, for instance, I’d gutted and then left out in the weather in order for it to rust and become completely unidentifiable. This they wanted kept aside. A plastic laundry basket, on the other hand, which had nothing wrong with it, they slung into the big bin. Go figure.

Alton household waste place

These places are not as exciting as dumps used to be but they are generally less smelly. I think I prefer them although my memories of going to the dump with dad on the weekend are all joyful and pleasant, be they for assorted rubbish or garden waste. There’d always be something interesting sitting on top of the other rubbish to rifle through while dad dumped the stuff we needed rid of. I’m sure other kids my age share these simple pleasures which shall forever be lost to future children. Sad face.

A year ago I arrived, fresh from the plane from Munich, still smelling of beer and sausages, at Northampton Square, eager to register at City Uni. I wandered, bewildered and, quite frankly, lost with all the other first day people.

Today I returned, no chance of getting lost, no need of a map, surrounded by eager faces all heading for registration or the red t-shirts of the ‘Free Campus Tour’ students or the many trestle tables set up with signs such as ‘How to join the Student Union’, ‘How to use the Library’ and ‘Free laptop insurance’ above them. For it is registration week once more.

I was there to hand in the two printed copies of my dissertation to Helen in the Programmes Office. Silly me. I thought being able to submit my work electronically was such a wonderful thing and that I wouldn’t have to spend mega-quid on getting the 98 page document printed and bound twice. How wrong I was.

I had a frantic couple of hours yesterday bartering with our local printer to get it quickly run off in time for me to take it up today. Fortunately he accepts files via email. I was then off first thing this morning to collect the copies, hop on a train and high tail it up to London. I have to admit, it looked quite good all prettily printed and slippery papered.

Once on the train I opened my saved treat and started reading it: Last Night in Twisted River by John Irving. I had almost weakened last night and peeked into it. but I was strong. I waited. The train trip into town was over all too quickly as I immersed myself in the life of loggers in 1954. Irving is SO brilliant.

What will possibly be one of my last trips on the number 4 bus proved equally quick, as the pages of my novel flew by.

Having successfully delivered my package, I was off to meet Mirinda for lunch, it being a Wednesday. Apparently I need to smarten up. My casual, holiday-like attire is embarrassing her. She said if I continued to dress like a mad artist in Tahiti at the turn of the 20th century, we’d have to meet well away from her office. Next week I’ll wear a suit. I think the looks I get are of jealousy. Mirinda calls me eccentric. Eccentricity is a small price to pay for comfort, if you ask me!

Anyway, we went to Pod today. A chain (I assume it is a chain, anyway) of little lunchtime eateries that specialises in healthy Thai food in little containers called ‘mini-pods’. We had green curry chicken which was fantastic. Just the right amount and delicious on the palate. I thoroughly recommend it.

We then went for our customary walk, this time around the seedier parts of Tower Hamlets. We ended up on Brick Lane, the Bangladeshi capital of London. Even the street signs are in English and Sandskrit. It’s a thriving place. The sort of area you feel you’d like to explore but not at night. I could be wrong.

To get there, we wandered through a typical dour council estate which had an interesting arch, originally been built by Four Per Cent Industrial Dwellings Company Ltd in 1886. It was built by a bunch of Jewish-Anglo philanthropists as a form of cure for the slum dwellings in the Jewish Quarter of London. The original buildings that went with the arch were pulled down in 1970 and the council estate built instead. if you want to read about it, you can visit here.

Brick Lane is so named because of a huge brickworks that once successfully created its wares from somewhere along it. The rich clay of the Thames banks was perfect for bricks (apparently) and so they renamed the street after them (it was originally Whitechapel Lane) back in the 15th century. There was also a lot of successful brewing in the 17th century.

it has been home to many types of immigrants but latterly is home to Bangladeshi’s. The history is quite interesting and can be found on Wikipedia, here. Most interesting is that one of the Whitechapel Murders of which Jack the Ripper was accused, took place just at the end of Brick Lane. In the photo below, Osborn Road, where it happened, is just beyond the taxi. The body and police tape has long since vanished and now the whole place is full of bustle and hum.

We gradually made our way back to the Gherkin where Mirinda went to a meeting and I made my way back to Waterloo for home, devouring more John Irving on the way.

The beginning of Brick Lane

I’m supposed to be having a Nicktor Night tonight and found a John Irving quote which I thought was somewhat apt:

“Ketchum and your dad liked to drink together,” Jane told young Dan. “I don’t know what it is that men like about drinking together, but Ketchum and your dad liked it a little too much.”

Says it all ,really.

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.

When I chose my elective subject late last year, I didn’t bother checking out the timetable. I just went ahead and picked the subject I fancied. In this instance it was ‘Open Source Software’ or OSS, as we call it. It is something that interests me and most of the other choices didn’t. I mean there was no way I was going to do ‘Information Law’, for a start!

So, I chose and went back to writing essays. And then, before starting the second semester, I read the timetable. OSS was scheduled on Wednesday morning. My other classes were two on Monday and one on Friday. What a pain, I thought. Having to go up two days for just the mornings. I considered changing but decided I’d put up with it because of the subject.

In my first class, I sat and wondered why I was there. The lecturer was one I’d not been that keen on last year and the room seemed full of programmers. When it turned out that we would have to be in groups and work together towards presentations, I groaned inwardly. I was sorely tempted to change!

Today, in the same class, I realised how much I’m enjoying OSS. I’m really glad I didn’t change. In fact, it’s my favourite class this semester. The people are generally all nice, we have great class discussions every week. The presentations are fun and our group works together really well (ignoring the one who has done precious little work). The lecturer, while still not what I would consider a great teacher, has managed to create an excellent class. Mirinda was very interested in this as she has to work out feedback and how effective it can be.

After class I walked down to the Gherkin and had a lovely sushi lunch with Mirinda and realised how much I enjoyed that as well. It makes it a lot easier not having her at home if we lunch once a week in the middle. We decided that even when I’ve finished uni classes, I’m still going to come up on Wednesday for lunch. Sort of as a break during my dissertation.

So it was a great day and I feel very lucky and quite hoist. And all the crocuses were out, lining the footpath along Borelli Way. They were so pretty, I took their picture.

Line of crocuses along Borelli Way

So, Claire commented yesterday that I knew how to enjoy myself. Well, sadly, it appears I know how to enjoy myself way too much! Today was a bout of gout day. I have been in agony. I’m fine now I’m at home, sitting down with nothing on my foot, but today…aghhhhhhhh!

I had uni so I set off at 8:30 for the train. By the time I reached the end of our street, I was starting to limp, feeling the pressure beginning to build. I was tempted to turn around, go back home, just put my foot up (or take a jigsaw to it) but I missed the previous class because I was sick and I’d organised a meeting with my dissertation supervisor…I really had to go. I dragged my sorry foot to the station.

I was walking pretty slowly by the time I reached Farnham Station, but I made the train. I made the mistake of taking my shoe off for the trip to Waterloo. It felt good while we chuffed along, but when I replaced it, the foot hurt a lot more. Anyway, I hobbled down to the temporary bus stop for the bus to uni (someone has dug the main road up all over the place, including Waterloo Bridge, and the traffic is a mess) which, fortunately came quickly.

I slowly limped to uni (it’s pretty close to the bus stop), bought a coffee and went to class. And my foot throbbed all the way through it. And it was a load of old toss! I could so easily have missed it. I’m pretty sure today has been the worst lecture I’ve had. Of course, this could really be my gout talking.

It was about different generations (baby boomers, generation x, generation y…) and how libraries could or should adapt to them. Quite apart from the gout, I’m pretty sure there is no divide. Teenagers have always been grotty little misery laden trolls. Oldies have always been oldies. Middies have…well, you get the picture. I made the point in class that this was all bollocks, if you want to cater to different people, try catering to their needs! If I need to access a certain book because I’m studying library science, it doesn’t make any difference to anyone that I was born in 1955.

God, I was furious! Though to be fair, that probably WAS the gout. But it was like astrology. Just rubbish. So, I sat through it, took few notes and wished I was reclining somewhere with my foot in the air.

After class, I had an hour wait before my meeting with Andy (my supervisor). He’d told me to meet him in his office in E304. I went to E304. He wasn’t there. I was about to go home when I realised he was dyslexic. I found him in A304.

We had an excellent meeting (making me not regret quite as much, wasting my time n the morning). He is very positive and encouraging. I feel like I know what I’m doing, though I’ve set myself a rather mammoth task. Still, no pain, no gain, eh?

And then it was the long haul back home. Mirinda said she’d probably be getting home a lot later than me so I staggered onto the 3:23, just before the doors closed. I texted Mirinda to say which train I was on. Half an hour later she responded by saying she was on the train behind me. I waited at the station and we walked – actually, she walked, I sort of slithered like a sick penguin – home together.

I had my presentation today and it went very well. I managed a bit of sleep last night and the stench of beer and whisky was washed away with my morning shower…I hope. I was still changing the slides on the train into uni and agonising over the jokes.

Fortunately I went last, that way I could bounce off the previous presentations as well as present my own. I had a few laughs (tricky with a multi-cultural crowd) and, according to the lecturer, managed to explain everything very well. In fact, he has already emailed me my preliminary results and gave me an excellent.

I think it’s probably a bit unfair given my background but, hey, I don’t make the rules. I did enjoy it a lot. And made me think I’d rather enjoy being a lecturer. I have also come to the conclusion that charm and a positive outlook on life can get you a long way.

But I don’t want to go on about that. Being an actor I know my strengths (and weaknesses) and am arrogant enough to admit it. No, today I want to talk about spam. More accurately, the spam I get on this blog.

Every day I delete at least two spam posts. They are either for drugs or porn and probably always contain nasty viral links if someone was foolish enough to follow them. Fortunately I have set the blog to spam out anything that isn’t from a regular poster so no-one but me has to see them.

And I wonder why they bother. Though, really, I know why. It’s to make people follow them and either buy something dodgy or load a nasty thing onto their machine. Still, you’d think they’d give up. Though, again, I know it’s not human but a bit of software that just wanders the web and deposits it’s little evil presents where ever it can.

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Tonight I have the wonderful treat of having Chelsea v Inter Milan in the Champion’s League being telecast on terrestrial TV! Woo hoo! You’d better skip the rest of this self-indulgent post if you hate football.

Damn! Less than 3 minutes into the game and Inter score! Poor defending by us. Milito scored for them. Conversely, after 6 minutes, their defending is excellent so far.

The interesting thing about this game is the manager for Inter Milan. It is Jose Mourinho, who was the Chelsea manager who led us to lots of victories two years ago. He knows all of our players well, knows their skills. He also signed Drogba for Chelsea, who is becoming one of the best centre forwards in the world at the moment and can’t seem to stop scoring.

Ancelotti, our current manager is a very different type of manager but just as hungry to win. Let’s hope he’s really, really hungry because Mourinho is always famished.

It’s an exciting, physical battle so far. There has been a bit of a spate of yellow cards for both teams for the last ten minutes (23 minutes in). Apart from the goal, both teams are looking pretty even at the moment.

The Inter goalie has two black eyes. According to the commentator, he was in a car crash yesterday. He smashed his Lamborghini into a pole. He’s one tough guy, clearly. And his keeping is very good so far, keeping Chelsea scoreless.

Inter nearly scored again. It was harder to miss but miss he did and I can breathe again. Our only real chance came from a Drogba free kick and it hit the underside of the cross bar and bounced out.

Just before half time, we should have had a penalty but didn’t and so it’s still 1-0 as they leave the pitch after the first 45 minutes.

The second half has started where the first half ended: All full on. AND WE SCORE! five minutes into the second half. A nice little tap back by Ivanovic onto the boot of Kalou and he wallops it into the net. An important away goal for us.

And then, four minutes later, Inter scores again. 2-1. And the crowd goes crazy. They are making a wall of sound, according to the commentator. And they are loud. I can hear them from here…and they’re playing in Milan.

Damn. Our goalie just injured himself and is being substituted by our second string keeper, Hilario. It looks bad and could be a knee injury. If so, it’s not just a problem for tonight but for the rest of the season.

So close to another Chelsea goal. Brilliant build up. Sharp one touch passing. Excellent movement through the defence. Their goalie just managed to get in the way. More luck than anything else.

The Inter defence is still very strong. Each time we charge down into the final third of the pitch, they tackle and clear the ball. Very frustrating. They have one player, Lucio, who is winning them the game.

It’s still very spirited but the players are all slowing down after the intense combat. With five minutes to go, they all look ready to drop. The build up is still there but the finishing isn’t and it looks like tiredness.

In the final three minutes and they have all put on a last spurt. A corner with two minutes to go and Chelsea almost scores. And it’s all over. In three weeks, the return match will be at Stamford Bridge. Gripping game.

I had another uni result today. One of my essays was a purely philosophical one in that it was about the philosophy of information. Now, I always love to babble and this was the perfect opportunity. Naturally, by the time I’d finished and submitted it, I was convinced it wasn’t very good and I’d babbled far too much. I guess I didn’t. I managed 80%! Who’da thunk it? I am rather pleased. As well as surprised.

To be honest, uni wasn’t a lot of fun today. It started ok, though the weather was foul and I was damp for most of the day. We discussed a lot of information retrieval stuff and then it came time for the tutorial presentations. It was the usual long drawn out process of getting people to go out to the front to present their findings. As usual this was like pulling teeth.

It was, however, exacerbated by the lecturer filling in forms with each group’s results. This took an age – there are eight groups – and, quite frankly, was a huge waste of time. It would have been a lot better had he asked us to fill in the forms prior to class so the findings could just be discussed.

The results were interesting and we managed to discuss some of them but the time was running out and we had to abandon class before the final group entered their figures. The class finished just before the next class were due to take over the room.

I headed out to get some lunch. The day was still miserable and my mood wasn’t much better. I decided to ditch my second class and give myself an early mark. The notes are all on the uni website and I could study in the warmth and comfort at home. The poodles were very pleased. I was very pleased.

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Butterick Update!!
Following on from yesterdays post…After a bit more research into St Augustine’s, Kilburn, I discovered that it was only consecrated the year before the Butterick mass baptisms (1880). Apparently, the priest at the old parish church wasn’t too happy with the way things were going and decided to branch out on his own. He wanted a more Catholic approach and so opened his own church, with the bishop’s blessing, of course. This was St Augustine’s. Now, my assumption is that the Butterick family were all for this new brand of worship and so shifted allegiances from the church they knew and loved to the new one down the road which promised more in heavenly trading stamps. This belief is strengthened in that a few years later, another Butterick child was baptised at the new font. This one was also well past birth.

For today’s class we had another guest speaker. She was from a publisher. She looked about 15 but was clearly older…given her job title and the fact she was coming to a university to tell us what her company did and how. She was very quiet.

The room we use on Fridays is not that big and there would be about 30 of us in it. Still, it was hard to hear her. I was in the second row, about ten feet from her. She was quiet. I’m sure the people at the back (five rows back) were lip reading or missing everything.

What she had to say would have been interesting if we’d been able to hear it properly. It always takes too much energy to concentrate on a quiet voice. So much, in fact, that you start to not understand the language.

Anyway, her lack of volume was further pronounced each time the lecturer asked her a question or interjected as he was a LOT louder. I’m assuming she won’t be asked back because she was so quiet. At least I hope so, for the sake of next years students.

Things managed to turn nasty when the loud mouthed American of the class decided to quiz the speaker.

“So, how much does your company make each year?” She asked loud and brashly.
“Um, I’m sorry, but we can’t discuss that,” She said quietly.
“What do you mean? You are funded by the public. You have a responsibility to tell me!” Raged the American
“But we’re not funded. We’re a private company.” She whispered
“You’re paid by universities who are funded, therefore you are funded. You HAVE to tell me!”

At this point, the lecturer stepped in by standing up and speaking loudly.

“I think you’ll find that the publisher is a privately owned company and has many people paying them money. University libraries are a large part of their customer base but by no means the only one,” He said.

This seemed to satisfy the loud mouthed American. At least I thought so. As I left after the lecture, she was just in front of me and speaking to a pair of students. She was complaining loudly about how pathetic the girl had been and how she deserved an answer to her question. I’m sure her parents would be very pleased with their little girl, given every second word was vulgar.

A voice beside me said “Boy, she’s clearly having a bad day.” I turned and agreed with another of the students.

This brightened up an otherwise dull Friday at school. And then, to top it all off, as I left the uni, a massive group of Moslems held an outdoor, mass prayer thing, complete with mats and knowing the direction of east. There were lots of people watching and photographing it. There were also placards proclaiming their right to pray. Watching it, briefly, made me wonder why they need a mosque. It’s different for Christians, they have to sit down.

Mass prayers at uni

I had to give a brief presentation in class today. We are looking at information retrieval and each week we are given a task which builds on the previous week. Eventually we will have a piece of coursework, gradually increasing our knowledge of both the topic we have been given to study and the resources we can use to find it. We have been formed into 10 groups and we work together via the uni discussion board, adding to our knowledge as we test out new things. It’s not very structured.

The first week was an absolute disaster. The lecturer hadn’t really made it very clear that we would be presenting our findings and all the groups (so it wasn’t just me) turned up to class last week, clearly dismayed that someone would have to present from each group. Obviously, me being me, I have no problem getting up and entertaining people but I DO like to be prepared. I wasn’t. And so I didn’t. One of our group managed to bluff her way through it to some extent. All the groups suffered the same.

So, for this week, I took the bull by the proverbials and volunteered to present. During the week I played around with these two databases of databases until I’d found what I thought we needed. Others (though not all!) in the group also played around a bit. Then, come Sunday, I collated all the information. it was then I read the instructions. And realised I’d, in fact, prepared the wrong thing. I then sat up till gone midnight, re-preparing the presentation.

In class, just before we came to the presentations, I happened to read a snippet in the Metro (free newspaper) which related beer to our topic (osteoporosis, by the way) and in a fit of peak, I ripped it out and included it. It appears that beer is good as a preventative. Go figure. I guess that says a lot for my bone density, if nothing else.

Anyway, the presentation went well, as did my beer bit – managed to get a huge laugh to finish off. The other groups presented – some were prepared, others not – and it all went by somewhat painfully.

This weeks task, for next Mondays presentation, is more me, given we’re looking at meta crawlers and web search engines. I’m thinking of volunteering again. At least I’ll know what I’m doing this time.

Today I finished my fourth assignment for my masters and the last one from last semester. It was with a great relief that I clicked the ‘are you sure you want to submit this assignment’ button on the uni website. And now, having completed a Domain Analysis of the archaeological museum sector, I feel replete. Now to concentrate on THIS semester.

And yet more news…for a break this afternoon, I dug a hole and planted the weather station pole in it. With another bag of instant cement, I tamped it down. Voila, there’s another pole in the garden. What with the obelisks and the two upright structures, our back garden is starting to look a little like the New York skyline! I’ll now have to wait for Thursday to set up the weather station.

I have an early start tomorrow so it’s only a short entry tonight.