It's important to stand in the right place to capture the essense of a race. I didn't quite manage it on this one. You'll see why. Enjoy!
Sunday, 3 February 2013
Sunday, 6 January 2013
The unearthing of Keith
I once heard that some Inuit people give a name to the seal they are about to catch. This shows respect for the essential part that seals play in their way of life. Similarly lots of people give names to their cars, as then they feel a greater bond between man and machine.
Well, the other day, Mrs Noel and I were digging out stones from the garden to build a dry-stone wall and came across a large stone that we couldn't shift. Perhaps foolishly, I gave it a name. And although we couldn't move him on that day, I knew I would return to "Keith", as he is now known, and unearth him from his muddy slumber.
Today, after about 20 minutes of digging up and moving smaller stones, I felt the need to once again take the battle to Keith. After about 45 minutes with a pick-axe and a long piece of metal tubing, I had succeeded.
In the fading light I sat next to Keith, panting with the exertion and dripping with sweat, but very pleased.
My only concern now is that the waller won't use him and I'll have to think of another use for him. Maybe he could be a centrepiece for a rockery.
Well, the other day, Mrs Noel and I were digging out stones from the garden to build a dry-stone wall and came across a large stone that we couldn't shift. Perhaps foolishly, I gave it a name. And although we couldn't move him on that day, I knew I would return to "Keith", as he is now known, and unearth him from his muddy slumber.
Today, after about 20 minutes of digging up and moving smaller stones, I felt the need to once again take the battle to Keith. After about 45 minutes with a pick-axe and a long piece of metal tubing, I had succeeded.
In the fading light I sat next to Keith, panting with the exertion and dripping with sweat, but very pleased.
My only concern now is that the waller won't use him and I'll have to think of another use for him. Maybe he could be a centrepiece for a rockery.
 |
| Keith |
Wednesday, 26 December 2012
Christmas chocolate jelly fungus
We found this while walking yesterday (on Christmas day). The kids decided it should be called chocolate jelly fungus. After a quick look through my Mushrooom and toadstools of Britain and Europe book, I think it might be Exidia Recisa.
A quick search of tinterweb tells me it's already got a name - amber jelly roll. I think ours might have been a little overdone, hence "chocolate" and not "amber".
A quick search of tinterweb tells me it's already got a name - amber jelly roll. I think ours might have been a little overdone, hence "chocolate" and not "amber".
Sunday, 23 December 2012
My guide to predicting the end of the world
Recently, the proportion of people who were prepared to believe in Mayan predictions decreased. Previously, it was 14.7%, with people citing reasons such as "they know an awful lot about astronomy". After Friday, it plummeted to 4.3%, with most people attributing their change of opinion to "well, they made up the bit about the end of the world, so they probably made the rest up too."
I can see many good reasons for predicting the end of the world. If you don't, people ask about events further and further into the future, to the point where you get confused with what you've already predicted. At this point, people will start finding inconsistencies, like "but I though his line had already died during the peanut butter wars" and "that means the high priestess was younger than her grandson when they first reunite the trigrinion."
Also, it's great PR. We've become a lot more aware of the predictions of the Mayans in the last few weeks.
So for all you yet-to-be-famous soothsayers, here are the options:
1. Be vague. "The world will end at some point in the next 284,000 years and will take quite a long time". This might work on one level, but is unlikely to have the PR effect of absolute predictions.
2. Make it really far in the future. "The world will end in the year 2,453,741". This leads to the problem of needing to predict over 2 million years of events, and you'll probably get confused.
3. Get it right. "The world will end in 2356 on September the 11th at 4:53pm Eastern Standard Time." The problem with this is, even if you get it right, there's no advantage. The number of people who believe in your predictions will be zero once the human race has been wiped out. So your in a lose-lose situation.
So here's my favourite option.
4. Incorporate periodicity. "Every 723 years, starting from a week next Tuesday, the great destroyer will visit our world to decide whether all human life should be destroyed."
Any cults that get super rich from this approach might like to send me the odd tenner. Thanks in advance, and apologies for making up the statistics at the top of the page.
I can see many good reasons for predicting the end of the world. If you don't, people ask about events further and further into the future, to the point where you get confused with what you've already predicted. At this point, people will start finding inconsistencies, like "but I though his line had already died during the peanut butter wars" and "that means the high priestess was younger than her grandson when they first reunite the trigrinion."
Also, it's great PR. We've become a lot more aware of the predictions of the Mayans in the last few weeks.
So for all you yet-to-be-famous soothsayers, here are the options:
1. Be vague. "The world will end at some point in the next 284,000 years and will take quite a long time". This might work on one level, but is unlikely to have the PR effect of absolute predictions.
2. Make it really far in the future. "The world will end in the year 2,453,741". This leads to the problem of needing to predict over 2 million years of events, and you'll probably get confused.
3. Get it right. "The world will end in 2356 on September the 11th at 4:53pm Eastern Standard Time." The problem with this is, even if you get it right, there's no advantage. The number of people who believe in your predictions will be zero once the human race has been wiped out. So your in a lose-lose situation.
So here's my favourite option.
4. Incorporate periodicity. "Every 723 years, starting from a week next Tuesday, the great destroyer will visit our world to decide whether all human life should be destroyed."
Any cults that get super rich from this approach might like to send me the odd tenner. Thanks in advance, and apologies for making up the statistics at the top of the page.
Sunday, 16 December 2012
Pretty tree
I used to drive past this tree twice a day and admire its shapeliness.
On some days it's brilliantly photogenic. On some days, it looks quite ordinary.
Today was one of its better days, and I had my camera.
On some days it's brilliantly photogenic. On some days, it looks quite ordinary.
Today was one of its better days, and I had my camera.
Sunday, 9 December 2012
Giant's Hole
Our good friend Neil offered to take us and the kids caving. We went to do the first bit of Giant's Hole, which is normally a relatively easy stroll.
It looks like this:
...at least it does when it's dry. When we went down today that pebbly bit at the bottom of the photo was a river. This then ran down the passageway that we walked down and was very noisy and cold and wet.
We managed to get two children crying with cold and/or fear, so it wasn't the best introduction to caving for them. We've vowed to try again when it's warmer and less rainy.
Also... breaking news... we have some more ants. If you remember from one of my previous posts, we have an ant kit where you watch their tunnels through the glass. But after we bought a batch of ants and put them in, we ended up with only about 3 live ones that were very good at hiding. Well, we have some more and are looking forward to complicated underground tunnels.
Here's a pici. It's probably hard to make them out very well, but - take my word for it - the brown bits are ants. I think there are about 5 of them in this shot alone.
Subterranean metropolis - here we come.
It looks like this:
...at least it does when it's dry. When we went down today that pebbly bit at the bottom of the photo was a river. This then ran down the passageway that we walked down and was very noisy and cold and wet.
We managed to get two children crying with cold and/or fear, so it wasn't the best introduction to caving for them. We've vowed to try again when it's warmer and less rainy.
Also... breaking news... we have some more ants. If you remember from one of my previous posts, we have an ant kit where you watch their tunnels through the glass. But after we bought a batch of ants and put them in, we ended up with only about 3 live ones that were very good at hiding. Well, we have some more and are looking forward to complicated underground tunnels.
Here's a pici. It's probably hard to make them out very well, but - take my word for it - the brown bits are ants. I think there are about 5 of them in this shot alone.
Monday, 3 December 2012
Marmalade and chutney
Normally we make lots of jam through the summer months, and have an excess for the winter. This allows us to sell off a good selection at the kids' school Christmas fair.
This year, we've been quite busy with having moved house. It's also been a bad year for fruit, largely due to the lack of sunshine, I think.
But we were keen to have our conserve stall again, so we bought in some fruit and had a big jamming week. We made three types: clementine and cranberry marmalade, apple chutney, and mixed fruit chutney.
We had lots of interest in the stall, including some people who came back after liking the marmalade the previous year. Thankfully, despite my best sales techniques - "it matches your eyes madam", "they're all the rage with the kids" and "two for the price of three" - we still have enough to give some away. Our postman, Ray (who delivers to the new house as well) is a particular fan of the marmalade.
This year, we've been quite busy with having moved house. It's also been a bad year for fruit, largely due to the lack of sunshine, I think.
But we were keen to have our conserve stall again, so we bought in some fruit and had a big jamming week. We made three types: clementine and cranberry marmalade, apple chutney, and mixed fruit chutney.
We had lots of interest in the stall, including some people who came back after liking the marmalade the previous year. Thankfully, despite my best sales techniques - "it matches your eyes madam", "they're all the rage with the kids" and "two for the price of three" - we still have enough to give some away. Our postman, Ray (who delivers to the new house as well) is a particular fan of the marmalade.
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