Category Archives: personal

Five Questions, Series 3, #4

Time to answer the next of the Five Question I posed some weeks ago.


Question 4. What’s an as yet non-existent thing about which you’ve thought “why hasn’t someone created that yet?”

Do you remember this, from the White Queen in Alice in Wonderland?

Alice laughed: “There’s no use trying,” she said; “one can’t believe impossible things.”
“I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was younger, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”

Well that’s a bit what it’s like trying to think of non-existent things which should exist. One doesn’t get enough practice now one’s not engaged daily in mortal combat against corporate processes and management. So when one tries, the mind goes blank.

Hence I’m a bit stuck for ideas for a better widgetything. There are, though, some things I can think of — except they’re more by way of attributes than tangible things. Two that stand out are:

a. common sense, and
b. governments that understand procurement and contracts

Well actually one could fix both of those with a logic equivalent of the Babel Fish: a device — maybe we’ll call it the Alice Fish — which when applied to someone’s brain (maybe via an ear, or just with a limpet sucker thingy to the skull) would instantly impart an inexorable need to not just think, but think logically.

You might also remember that 5% of people can’t think, 5% can think and do, while the other 90% can think but don’t bother. So our Alice Fish should be able to fix the 90%, at least.

What would you all like to see, that no-one has yet invented?

Oh, and apologies to all the girls out there called Alice Fish! 🙂

Five Questions, Series 3, #3

So here’s another attempt to catch up a bit. Here is an answer to the third of the Five Question I posed some weeks ago.


Question 3. Of the things you’ve done in your life so far, what are you proudest of?

I’m not generally proud of what I do. I do things. The right things. And I expect to. In fact I usually expect that I’ll do better than I do. And I’m not one for blowing my own trumpet. I just get on with things. So there is little to be proud of. So I find answering this rather difficult.

I suppose the things which has most surprised (and delighted) me, and hence something I am proud of, is that Noreen and I have been married for 33 years. Today that seems to be quite an achievement.

What’s even better is that we have achieved it while doing two really environmentally friendly things: no children and no car!

What about you?

By way of an apology …

The last week has been just so busy, hence the total lack of postings.

I’ve been putting the quarterly Anthony Powell Society Newsletter together for the printers — although I’m not the Editor, I am the in-house production team, sub-editor etc. etc. As this is the 50th issue — something I never even dreamt of achieving — it is a larger than usual issue, so has taken more time. Why is it that proofreading — proper, detailed proofreading — always takes so long? Anyway the Newsletter should go to the printer over the weekend after a final check-through.

However the bulk of my time during the week has been taken up with writing what has turned into a 40-page report for my GP’s Practice. A couple of weeks ago we, the Patient Participation Group organised by yours truly, helped run their annual patient survey. And of course I stupidly volunteered to key and analyse the data — well I know I have the skills to do it properly. With well over 500 records of data, the keying alone was no small job. Fortunately all the hard work of calculation I had pre-coded into a spreadsheet, so the bottom line numbers dropped out quickly. But then there were over 600 comments to analyse and turn into possible actions. All of that and more has to be written into a formal report, with tables and charts and a list of actions (with some justification). And every time you look at it something else pops up which really should be included. It isn’t finished yet, but it is getting close and should be with the doctors on Monday or Tuesday.

On top of that I have been trying to take it a bit easy, so I really do get rid of this blasted UTI which came back 10 days ago. It seems to have subsided now. But it needs to stay that way.

Next week is shaping up to be busy again too. Just for starters I have a 40-page report to read, and think about!, for a meeting on Wednesday. The only problem is, I have to find it first, amongst the pile of paper on/by my desk! And there are all the other things I need to attend to which have been out aside in the last couple of weeks.

Will I get to watch the rugby this afternoon? No, probably not … As everyone always says: How did I ever find time to work?

Five Questions, Series 3, #2

So let’s try to catch up a little. Here is an answer to the second of the Five Question.


Question 2. What are three things about you that most people either don’t know or wouldn’t expect?

This is actually quite hard. Over the years I have answered this sort of question so many times that I think I’ve run out of things which you don’t know about me. You know most of my medical history, about my childhood; my piercing; what I like and don’t like; what I want to do and will not do. So what’s left?

Well here are three things. I may have told you (some of) them before but I don’t recall doing so.

  1. Never ask me to make, build or mend anything: I have the dexterity of a bull in a china shop and the patience of an angry wasp. And if you think I’m bad I have only 10 left thumbs. My father was far worse: he had 20 left thumbs. He even said it against himself: “If I mend the vacuum cleaner, I have a bicycle saddle left over”.
  2. Very few people of any fame share my birthday; it seems to be a non-day in that respect. The best know three I can find are the former UK miners’ leader and socialist agitator, Arthur Scargill; Harry Gordon Selfridge, founder of the eponymous department store in London; and the golfer Ben Crenshaw.
  3. I’m not scared of going to either the dentist or the doctor. Yes, OK, I get anxious about unpleasant treatments when I don’t know what the medics are going to do to me — which I guess is normal. Most people seem to detest even the idea of going to the dentist. Conversely I enjoy it! I have a good relationship with my dentist, who’s an interesting guy. I like his attitude as a dentist: the best will do for my patients, so he’s right up with the best current technology. He doesn’t do anything by way of treatment unless he needs to; he doesn’t believe in taking gold out of one’s pocket without good reason. He’s highly skilled, inventive and amazingly dexterous; as he says “What is dentistry if it isn’t DIY?”. And we always seem to end up having an interesting or amusing conversation about something scientific or medical.

Will that do?

Now it’s your turn to show me yours. 😉

Five Questions, Series 3, #1

The last week or so has be rather busy again, so I’ve not had a chance to think about writing decent posts here. Hopefully the coming week will be a bit saner, although there is a bundle of things happening again after that.

Anyway I promised my answers to the Five Questions I posed almost two weeks ago.


Question 1. Please describe yourself in 25 words or less.

There are two ways to do this: in 25 words of descriptive text or as a series of keywords. I can’t do the former as there is just too much I want to get in, so it will have to be a series of keywords. Try these for size:

Londoner; working thinker; retired; catalyst; facilitator; controversialist; former research chemist; scientist; photographer; organiser; project manager; ailurophile; ichthyophile; grey; meganedanshi; foodie; beer-drinker; obese; intelligent; idiot.

So what about you?

Are we sure?

Yesterday we were in Norwich for the funeral of a close friend of my parents. Well we didn’t actually go to the cremation, which was earlier than we could get there, but to the following memorial service. The service was low-key and humanist, which is what Brian would have wanted, and held at Colney Wood Burial Park — a woodland burial site on the outskirts of Norwich near the university. This is where my father is buried, and it was apparently his funeral which made Brian think this was what he too wanted.

Even on a cold winter’s day, with some snow still on the ground, the wood is a delightful place full of pine and beech trees. Imagine how delightful it is on a lovely Spring day when the bluebells are at their best! The park is sympathetically managed as a native woodland; the only rules being that one is not allowed to put up memorial markers of anything other than native wood and a small size, only unwrapped cut-flowers, and no planting of anything which isn’t native. All the woodland paths are natural and there is an absolute minimum of brick and concrete (essentially just the footings of the buildings). I always think the three, rather apical, wooden buildings, set discretely amongst the trees, are very American Indian — they’re almost like a small huddle of wigwams, which is quite in keeping with the quiet, gentle ethos of the place. (I must try to photograph them when next we’re there.)

This is so much nicer a place to be buried than in the average cemetery. It’s a shame there aren’t more such. Every town really should have one.

One humorous (well to me anyway) thing I noticed as we drove in the gate yesterday was this notice.

Dusk
My father, whose grave is not 100m away, must be gentry revolving.

A sad day, but such a delightful place.

Reasons to be Grateful: Summary

So I’ve spent over a year (actually 60 weeks) documenting each week five things for which I was grateful, or which made me happy, that week. And at last I’ve gotten round to documenting the findings. So what did I learn? What difference did it make?

Sprats
Conclusion: Frankly, it’s a Load of Sprats

First let’s summarise the 300 observations made during the experiment.
[Yes, sorry Sue, I’m going to be an anally boring scientist again!]

Results
I’ve broken the observations into 10 broad categories as best I can.

Category
# Obs

%
Food & Drink 102 34%
Hobbies (a) 65 22%
Weather & Seasons 29 10%
Personal & Medical 27 9%
Places 20 7%
Family & Friends 15 5%
Anthony Powell Society 8 3%
Celebrations 7 2%
Arts 7 2%
Miscellaneous 20 7%

(a) Includes such as natural history, photography, the garden, family history …
(b) Includes photographs of sunrises and sunsets as well as “sunshine”

Observations

  1. Should we be surprised at the dominance of food and drink (and that was overwhelmingly food, by the way)? Given everything else about me, probably we shouldn’t. Worrying perhaps, but hardly surprising. No wonder I’m the size I am.
  2. What did surprise me was the high score for hobbies. In retrospect I shouldn’t be surprised given the amount I watch what goes on in the garden etc. and the number of flowers I seem to photograph.
  3. I was also surprised at the amount I seem to notice and care about the weather, and not just the fact that because I have a tendency to SAD I like the sunshine.
  4. There seems to be confirmation that we’ve never been a close family nor do we do grand celebrations. And I guess this also confirms that I don’t have a wide circle of close friends and that I don’t get out enough. Well who would have guessed?
  5. One thing I have been doing for a couple of years now, partly aligned to the hypnotherapy, is keeping a very qualitative track of my mood — on a rough scale of -3 to +3 (0 is OK, -3 the depths of depression and +3 totally manic). Over the period of the experiment the 365-day rolling average score has risen from 0.28 to 0.56. Well at least it’s going in the right direction, and I wouldn’t expect that average to get above 1 unless I’m permanently manic. And that ain’t ever likely to happen. I would expect to stabilise at about 0.75 to 0.8 — there will always be ups and downs, one just hopes for a preponderance of ups.
  6. Also over the time period of the experiment I have seen a small decease in my weight and by fasting blood glucose level. Not enough of either and hardly statistically significant, but again at least in the right direction.

Conclusions
How much of this is attributable to the experiment? Well who knows? There are just too many variables and too few hard measurements. This in itself was perfectly predictable, and even predicted.

What does this tell me that I didn’t know or couldn’t have guessed? Frankly bugger all!

That doesn’t mean it wasn’t interesting, and sometimes a challenge, to do. But beyond that I doubt it says anything very useful at all. But that’s the nature of experiments!

So yes, in summary, it’s a load of sprats!

What Does Your Personal Hell Look Like?

I was prompted a few days ago to think about what really would constitute a living Hell for me. No forget all this fire and brimstone stuff of the (supposed) afterlife. We are quite good enough at creating Hell here in this life.

But on the basis that one man’s meat is another man’s poison, how much would we actually agree on what would constitute Hell here on Earth? Brave New World and 1984 would be a damn good start!

Well this is the start, at least, on what mine would look like.

There is no wine, beer or gin. The only liquids available would be Pernod, absinthe, pastis and … errr … water.

The only foods available are jellied eels, tripe, sweet potato, pumpkin and egg custard.

Everyone is perpetually rude, selfish and unable to speak English. (Nothing new there, then.)

All officials are little Hitler control freaks and over-officious bullies. And then there are the managers!

Basically nothing is allowed; everything is banned, so whatever you do you’re breaking some law or another.

Cigarette smoke clings everywhere.

There are no antibiotics, analgesics or deodorants.

It is cold. So cold I have to wear clothes all the time — because there is no central heating and no sunshine. And all the clothes I have to wear are made of plastic, rubber or nylon.

There are no cats, no birds, no gardens, no trees and no seaside. The sky is never blue. Maggots abound.

I have to travel everywhere by underground or by bus.

All women look like low-class tarts and wear a thick plastic skin of make-up.
All men are shaven headed thugs or greasy oiks — which is about how they behave.
There are children everywhere, screaming. Their batteries cannot be removed and they never run out of charge. They all have lice.

There is no internet nor any cameras — except for CCTV everywhere.

All TV is an endless cycle of inane soap operas and game shows interspersed every 5 minutes with ever more inane adverts.

There are no books and the only music is Mozart.

I’m forced to be homosexual, religious, play golf and put in the army.

I’m sure there’s more … Aarrrgggghhhhh!!!!!!

Why is it much of this sounds so horribly familiar?

Weirday

What is it that makes birthdays so strange? Today seems to have been one of the odder ones, but for no very obvious reason.

We’ve never been ones for making much of birthdays in my family, so I always expect them to be much like any other day. The trouble starts when other people think birthdays are special days. Which is very nice but not what I expect. Maybe I’m just getting old but it seems that these days everyone is much more wanting to make something of birthdays; I’m sure this wasn’t so when I was young. Maybe it’s just because we’re now much more open about things.

In the past I’ve managed to avoid some of this, especially in the last few years I was working when I had a policy of taking the day off work. But now that things like Facebook tell the world when your birthday is, there isn’t much hiding. And yes, in many ways that is nice but I’m still not used to it.

But although a quiet day, this has been one of the odder birthdays.

It started with an alarm clock and the usual unwillingness to engage vertical hold. Oh and I need to do a pee sample for the doctors to check I really have gotten rid of the bladder infection.

Then off to do the weekly supermarket run. Well this is better than it could be as (a) it is always quiet at 9am on a Friday and (b) I get to have breakfast in the café. This morning, being a special day, I indulged in a full English breakfast rather than the usual bacon roll.

Just as we were leaving the supermarket (luckily after we’d paid!) the fire alarms went off and the store was evacuated. Frankly it could have burnt down as it was nearly 10 minutes before a solitary fire engine arrived.

Home about 1040 to news that one of my parents’ closest friends had died. Not unexpected as he was in his late 80s and had been ill for some time. Fortunately, when I rang, my mother already knew, so I didn’t have to break the news to her.

… And a short doze in front of my PC …

A scratch lunch of the remains of last night’s stuffed peppers with bread & butter — not bad cold, but better hot. This was followed by teh grand opening presents. Oooo goodie! … Another bottle of gin! Plus an early music CD and some books from my wanted list. And what!? No-one gave me chocolates. Which is probably as well.

While away the afternoon doing this and that — ie. nothing — followed by a shower and shave. So exciting I could hardly stand afterwards.

Then to cook my birthday dinner. A massive quantity of seafood (prawns, mussels, scallops and sprats) and linguine in a tomato, lemon and chilli sauce. Dead easy and though I say it myself it was bloody good — better than many restaurants. Devoured with a rather nice bottle of Roger Brun Réserve Grand Cru Champagne (from Nick Dobson Wines).

Dinner was rapidly followed by a long phone call with my closest aunt — mostly about family things and our researches into our ancestry.

So now to switch off and read for the rest of the evening.

And I still don’t know why it is that birthdays are quite such strange days!