Degree ceremony

Husband and I took today off to attend the OU degree ceremony at Milton Keynes for my MRes. We were going to nip out of the office at lunch time for a few hours, but thought step daughter #3 was going to come with us, so we would leave home later, get an official group photo and have a nice lunch before the ceremony. However, SD#3 must have missed out a syllable (she's been practising her glottal stops) when she told us that she wasn't coming so we didn't realise until 11 o'clock this morning.

Nevertheless, we got an official photo and had a nice lunch beforehand. We found our seats, watched the great and the goods process on to the stage, listened to eulogies on those who were receiving honorary doctorates and applauded the graduates. The graduates were presented to Will Swann, director of students, the doctorates came first then the masters then those who'd received degrees. There were two differences from when I received my first degree:

1. Then there were postgraduate degrees, and BAs, but now there are doctorates, masters, and all sorts of types of named degrees: BAs, BSc, diplomas, certificates and even foundation degrees. That reflects a change and huge expansion in what the OU offers, from around 40 courses in the seventies to over 400 now.
   
2. Then I knew only the people I'd come with - my neighbour and all his family - and we'd all come in his green single decker bus. Now I recognised some of the people on the stage because now I've been an associate lecturer for nearly twenty years, and because as a full time student I get to know faces on the campus. And it was nice after to raise champagne together with someone who works in our building.
   

I think I was prouder of my first degree because it took so much effort and a change in self-belief to get it. Here are some photos of husband who believed in me and supported me through it, and my proud parents when I went to get my BA.

Secret gardens opening

On Sunday we opened our garden, as did dozen others in the old town. Around 300 people traipsed round, admiring layout, size, hidden greenery behind houses that are right on the street, and our delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red). Photographers could be seen focusing in close on the phygelius.

We have several empty and light filled spots where we cut down trees like the elder and a pine. We left notices asking for advice from our visitors.

"What should we do with this border now the branches have gone? Your suggestions are welcome."

Some suggestions have been:

• a gravel garden or a Japanese garden or a water garden
• currant bushes
• apple trees

"What should we do with this space now the trees have gone? Your suggestions are welcome."

This elicited:

• Don't cover the old wall and narled trunks, they compliment the age of the garden. Fruit bushes fine, introduce lost of different shades of greenery. Build potting shed, fence west
• Nude sunbathing!
• Chickens!
• A BOMB

We're still wondering whether and where to have a Wendy house. I miss the one my children had until 2000 and want one like it for the grandchildren. And we might get a fig tree - some visitors agreed - or an olive tree, tile the bare wall, or put a mosaic on it, or perhaps graffiti! But then the outside of the walls already get that! We've also been advised to consider a Japanese garden, oriental features and a willow sculpture. I like that idea.

Our grandson sold ice creams, making a tidy £60 towards our chosen charities: Norcap and Space. Rumour has it that between us all we made around £900.

I'll load my photos up to my flickr site.

Fascinating Ascot

I loved this outing. Fascinating hats, like black and red on blond hair, or a pink rose on black, or lime green net. My favourite hat was two pink carnations, with a white and a yellow rose and white feathers. The most fascinating fascinator was a nest of pink down, with pink plumes and surrounded by flying feathers. Wow! Everyone dressed up. You couldn't be overdressed. If you went feeling silly because you have a silly hat on and you don't usually wear hats, when you get there you wonder if your hat is silly enough for the event.

The party atmosphere began on the train from Waterloo with champagne corks popping, laughter as the train swayed, and mobile calls to friends who couldn't get on at Richmond but had to wait for the next train.

Strict instructions had been given on what to wear. Most women wore skirts or dresses, and some were really really smart, brilliant colours and coordinated with hats, shoes (high heeled) and bags. In the general enclosure there were a lot of shoulders and backs on display though in the royal enclosure that was not allowed. The men dressed up too, at least in suits, some in morning suits, some in kilts and sporans. One cheeky chap, old enough to be someone's gran'pa sported a badge that announced he was the "Ascot official panty inspector"!

Husband and I won on two of the six races. We bet each way on Free Agent, the Queen's horse. When it won, you could see her thumbs up "Done it!".

Would I go again? Yes, but racing has to be either a social event or a betting event. I'm not too bothered about the betting so I'd like to go with friends too. Any friends near London who fancy coming to Ascot next year with us?

Ascot races

Husband and I are going to the races. I've never been to the races despite having worked in a bookies years ago. Here's the programme for Saturday.

Busy

I'm too busy to blog this week. I have

• a 5000 word report to re-jig for my supervisors
• garden to tidy
• furniture to move before plumber comes
• 20 assignments to mark
• a long dental appointment
• a visit (last ever) to my daughter's school

Oh, and a visit to Ascot on Saturday.

Graffiti

More graffiti appeared in our street - just a small tag on the paint work at the front of a house. One neighbour saw a possible culprit and rushed out to photograph his back. Glad our CCTV is now recording.

Broken pane

Yesterday evening some yob chucked something at our window and cracked the pane. Pest!

This is the penalty for living near the town centre. But being a conservation area, we can't have shutters - bit daft really when you realise that this sort of problem has happened on and off for centuries because this was the main road into Aylesbury, and out of Aylesbury after going to the pubs! If you remove the outer rendering of a lot of the houses you find the fixings for the old shutters. But you have to argue the case with the conservation officers. House down the road had lots of panes broken last summer for several Fridays in a run. Broken on Fridays, fixed on Mondays then broken again. And kids think they're just being a nuisance and having a bit of fun, but don't realise that the old sort of glass in these houses is irreplaceable. They don't make glass like that any more.

Spider found

Further to my query about the orange-legged spider, step daughter #2 tells me we've seen a wood-louse spider and refers us to Woodlouse spider - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

This makes sense since it was running around with hundreds of wood lice that were hiding under the sand tray. Thank you SD#2!

Son understands me!

If you know something about my research, you might know that in July I have an interview to get the funding for the next two years study. I was explaining to son that the philosophical approach behind my research and my examiner's approach are opposites, so that the viva is going to be a bit harder. I was delighted to discover that son knows the relevant bits of philosophy. I said,

"My research is based on a constructionist approach. My examiner is a realist."

Son immediately responded:

"Oh dear!"

How nice to be understood.

Orange legged spider

Does anyone know what sort of beastie this is? Isn't it weird! It's got a red thorax, orange legs and a huge white abdomen. It walked across our patio this morning, and none of us has seen a spider like it before, not in England, nor in Italy.

I'll put up the other photos of it on my flickr site.

Aunty's teeth

Through GenesReunited, I've recently got in touch with a cousin whom I never met but we share a common pair of great-grandparents. We've been comparing notes on what oral history we know so I checked a story with my mother about cousin's grandmother and my mother's aunty. It is so funny that I should share it.

She was teaching her class poetry, 'The charge of the Light Brigade' and they were reciting it in a very lackadaisical manner. 'Put some life into it' she said. 'FORWARD the Light Brigade!!' and her teeth  shot out and landed on the floor between the desks!  'Leave those' she  barked, and marched up, picked them up, turned her back to put them in, fixed the class with a beady eye and continued with the lesson! She had excellent discipline and there wasn't a titter but I bet they didn't half laugh when they got out. As she did. She told the tale with great aplomb many times. 

I wonder if the children there still remember the incident.

Local food

When I'm working at home, I often nip up the road to my favourite coffee shop. I drink an espresso and a glass of water, but I avoid the cakes. The cakes are delicious. It's very difficult to avoid them. I didn't avoid this one because it's a chocolate espresso. The top is all fudgy and delicious.

Blue Angel Bakeries make them and cookies and tiffin, and sell them at the Aylesbury farmer's market once a month. My children give me orders every month, even from university where son plans to sell them because they are good enough to compete with Ben's cookies. Bank of mother is getting a bit fed up with these withdrawals and has decided to stop funding them. Instead, I'm copying my children and buying a tray of cookies to take into work. Rachel does specials for the market like raspberry sparkles for Christmas. They look amazing as well as being scrumptious.

Tae for two

We do tae kwondo, my daughter, my grandson and me - well, all right, to be exact, my step-grandson. We all go together on Sunday evening. We're different grades.

• Grandson is white belt - for innocence and beginner.
• I'm blue tag, so my belt is green with a blue strip. It means the grade is half way between green and blue - for growing and getting there.
• Daughter is red tag, which is half way between blue and red - red means danger and she's getting quite scarily good.

We start with jogging and warm ups and then perhaps sparring in pairs. This Sunday for the first time, grandson and I got paired together. Imagine it! It's not often that Nanna and six-year old get to beat each other up.

Now grandson doesn't talk much - a bit like his grandfather but he can laugh. He didn't say a word as we hit with one fist, ducked and hit with the other fist, but he laughed fit to burst as he jumped to tag me on my head. And he laughed and laughed as we sparred. And when we had to take up press up position and try to knock each other off balance by pulling or knocking an arm, we both collapsed on the floor laughing.

That's why I do tae kwondo because it makes me laugh.

Art exhibition

I have been rather honoured that my work colleague asked me to come to an exhibition of children's art. Her little boy was one of only 600 out of 6000 entrants to be chosen to have his work displayed at the Royal College of Art. They have an exhibition each year, run by volunteers in aid of cancer research.

The theme they were asked to work to was "As I see it" and her son's work shows a crocodile that appears to be snapping at insects in the air. I love the detail of the dragonfly. And he is only in year 2. Here's his proud mother.


It is a magnificent exhibition. I wish that more state schools had their pupils work on display too.

Cacti photos

The cactus is even better now.

House plants

This splendid cactus comes out once a year. This is its best show yet.

Husband has anticipated this blog posting and has admired the array of pink and red cacti on the window sill.

Sunny weather

The weather has turned really nice, warm and sunny though not too hot. This is what is was like in India in January, when the brightness hurt my eyes that had been used to winter dark. As spring has come gradually, the days have got longer and brighter.

The garden is at its best this week and next, and then will need loads of tidying up in time for the opening of the Secret Gardens of Aylesbury Old Town in June.

I planted three cistus (what sort of cistus is it?) about 7 years ago and this one has grown huge and splendid. The others are invisible runts.

Austria connection

I'm pleased for daughter who had a phone call last night from Ellie in Austria, offering her a job (don't know what though!) and asking for her CV. We got up early this morning to check through it before emailing it really early, before daughter went to school.

The connection is because Ellie has come over to Aylesbury for years, bringing a group of Austria students around 13-16 years old to learn English, and we've acted as host families to some of them. Last year, daughter took over all the sandwich preparation and breakfasting them because I was going out to the office, worrying about getting my Master's dissertation in on time for September. Daughter did a lot of the work, and Ellie knew it. When she saw daughter last, she asked her if she'd like to come to Austria, and of course, after A-levels are done, daughter has weeks free until the results come out in August.

Now we wait and see what Ellie has to offer.

Politics

Not that I get involved, I just watch politics, but I did like this from Newsbiscuit.

For those of you abroad, the building is London's council offices, and the wig might have come off the head of the newly elected mayor of London, Boris, who's ousted the labour incumbent.

Endometriosis

I've just found this link to some research on endometriosis. As endometriosis has been my problem, it interests me, and this poster gives a little about the progress on a possible genetic cause as well as hinting at the dioxin connection.

Shop displays

Aylesbury shopping is getting a bit limited in that there are fewer small shops to choose from. There are bigger shops like BHS, Beatties and Woolworths, and the ubiquitous supermarkets. I'm glad to say that a new health store has opened in Bourbon Street, just opposite the side entrance to Friars Square. Down that same street there's a bridal shop, that last week had one of the most striking displays I've seen for ages. I noticed other people stop to look too. This week's isn't as striking - I was too late to photograph last week's.

Uncle Bill's drawing

Recently looking through my family history files I came across this cartoon that U. Bill did of me in June 1963. I'm wearing my school velour hat, which was a very expensive piece of uniform. The occasion that elicited this cartoon was that I'd got into this school. The eleven plus system at the time would pay a grant to the direct grant schools for all the children that the authority deemed had passed the eleven plus. I'd taken the 11+ but the county education authority did not deem me suitable for grammar school. However, such schools would still take suitable children, if the school liked them and the parents were willing to pay, something like £20 a term. The school liked me; I got in. To celebrate my success, U. Bill, who the family considered had the fewest brains, drew me this picture and wrote me this ode:

I knew you'd pass this Exam without any fuss or flurry.
I told you in the Café that you had no need to worry.
It was plain to me the Convent would accept you back but still
How could they have refused you when you've brains like Uncle Bill!

Cork tour

Daughter was tired so we took our time leaving today. We passed on our maps, guides and spare food to people in the hostel. I had a printout of the spec for the eeepc (I've just bought one, and left that for the woman C, who had been fascinated by it. She said that she was sorting out things, starting afresh I think, and thinking creatively about how to set up her own business in event management, so an eeepc would suit her situation well.

We caught the round-town bus up to the gaol, where they sentenced us to serve time and charged us 6 euro. Cork gaol is just as forbidding a place as any other gaol, but rather cold too. Its history is that it served as a prison for both men and women since before the 19^th century. It doesn't seem to have been overcrowded and the first Catholic governor, Murphy, seems to have been a sympathetic man who managed both the scoundrels and the political prisoners.

The bus tour included a guide to various sights, including mentioning the citizens' pride in the Cork town hall, not exactly a sky-scraper, but the tallest building in the country, currently.

We also stopped off at the Butter Museum for an excellent lesson in marketing, branding and advertising, then nipped across the road to St Anne's church (see photo) where I sat and minded our luggage, while daughter went up the tower to ring the bells of Shandon.

We caught the tour bus back into town, with just the time to collect some souvenirs from the tourist office before waiting for the Skybus back to the airport. It was 10 minutes late and we were both getting worried, when two buses arrived at once. On the plane, we sat next to a priest Father MS) who had some interesting tales to tell us about some of his experiences, such as unclean hospitals, and characterful people with few close relatives around when they died.

Got home with time to see husband enjoy his three bottles of whiskey (miniatures) - daughter delighted in buying them and showing her passport as evidence of her 18 years to the cashier, who wasn't interested.

Kinsale

We took the bus to Kinsale this morning, There's a cool wind today and daughter is a bit off colour, cold and sleepy. We had a look round, the city in the morning, stopping at the Crawford art gallery where we had scones and a drink and then nipped back to the hostel for daughter to have a quick nap, and we fetched warmer coats.

The road to Kinsale is lined with golden gorse and cordylines - an odd combination. Daughter slept.

We wandered around first, found the Tourist Information to get a map, and then, being as this is the gourmet capital of Ireland, treated ourselves to a light lunch of sea food and tabbouleh in Max's wine bar followed by a rhubarb tiramisu and a succes cake (meringue & caramel). We then strolled round to see sights. We observed the influence of the British history in the post boxes.



Another thing that interested me was the brightly painted houses. There are terraces of them in Kinsale and Cork.

The most interesting place to my mind was Desmond Castle. This has a long history as a customs house, an arsenal for the Spanish and a prison for French prisoners in the 17th century. It might have been rather overcrowded and there was a disaster in 1747 when a fire killed 54 prisoners. It is now a national museum and includes an exhibition not only of the gaol but also of the history of Irish wine links. Being a port, Cork has imported wine from Spain and France for centuries if not millenia.

Cork

We're in the Bru hostel. We arrived in Cork yesterday afternoon to lovely weather - balmy and spring like. The hostel, Bru, is not too bad - worth a few asteroids, if not stars. It's clean and quiet (if you're not in the bar) and we are sharing our room with a couple of young women from New Orleans. (What does 'bru' mean?) It's right in the middle of the city, but from our walk last night, I'd guess that this side of the river is less salubrious than the other, which seems to be the shopping side.

We walked past the Cork Opera House, which was advertising Spanish Harlem that evening and strolled though a square , where we could hear the birds' evening chorus, round a church and onto the main street. We found a couple of alley ways, the Huguenot quarter, where there were a number of cafes and restaurants. We got ourselves some pasta in one.

The air was still warm as we wandered back to the hostel, avoiding the cheerful drunks, “are ye off for the night? one inquired of daughter. We bought a box of chamomile tea, and brewed up in the hostel kitchen, played with my new eeepc a bit, but haven't got the wi-fi up yet, then retired to bed in our two bunk, i.e. four berth room with a couple of women from New Orleans, Julie and Susan.

We visited Blarney Castle. Baloney and Blarney. What's the difference? It seems baloney's where you say something flattering that is obviously untrue, like telling a 50 year old that she looks 18, but blarney is more realistic flattery. And today daughter kissed the Blarney Stone, which is supposed to make the kisser eloquent; she spent the rest of the afternoon telling me I was huggable.

We wandered round the fascinating grounds in spring sunshine, following the 'rock trail' that is supposed to show us the witch's steps and kitchen, ancient stones and formations of circles. Here's a picture of the witch's stone.

In the woodland and pathways, I was delighted to see spring flowers that I haven't seen for decades: ladies smock, marsh marigolds and wild garlic. I nibbled a fresh leaf. Then we caught a mid afternoon bus back to the city in time to return to the English market. We'd visited it in the morning and found the huge variety of butchers, green grocers (with fresh turmeric even), grocers and fishmongers. We bought whiting, mushrooms and rice to prepare for supper in the hostel kitchen, and stopped for tea and cake in the cafe. We found a variety of fascinating small shops in the alleys near Patrick's Street, including a glass designer - and I would really like some of this to lighten our windowless bathroom.



After dumping our shopping in the hostel, we strolled up to University College, round the campus a little, and back to Fin Barr's Cathedral, its gold glinting in the evening sun.
Now our feet are really tired. I wonder how much walking we'll do tomorrow because we're thinking of visiting Kinsale.

18 today

Planning trip to Cork

Daughter and I are planning a few days away next week, in Cork. We're flying out with just the one bag each, so no hanging around for baggage, and we're staying in a cheap hostel. Now we're looking for things to do there. I understand there's a small art gallery and fascinating old gaol and I found a tourist bus trip round the city, which I think we should do on the first day there.

Birthday boy

Son has friends round to celebrate his 20th birthday tomorrow. They've made a fondue. I find that fascinating because there was a decade when it was naff to have a fondue and when I gave someone a set as a present it went down like a load of curdled cold cheese fondue. Yeuch! Yet his father and I always used fondues for fun meals, and had cheese ones when vegetarian friends and relatives came. How nice that son sees fondues as fun too.

Spring time

Yesterday the scent of the clematis armandi was heady and beautiful. Today, it's covered in snow and there's no smell.

Updates

At last I've updated the family web site. If you've forgotten its URL, then do email me, or try searching by using a couple of our surnames.

Funeral

I went to Jack's funeral on Monday. The memorial service at the church was philosophical. When the priest first arrived at the parish, Jack greeted him by telling him that he had been at school with his son-in-law, and that's how the priest started his memories of Jack.

His middle daughter read Jack's favourite poem, High Flight, by John Gillespie Magee, and I've got a reasonable recording of it to put on the family site when I get the time.

Afterwards there was a meal at the Cottage.

Electrical failure

5.00 Calm and quiet Friday night planned, with easy meal and glass of beer.  Husband and I start home.

5.30 Daughter rings   -  burglar alarm is stuck on, no power to any sockets, what should she do?

• I tell her to switch on electricity trip switch - she tries but it trips again.
• I tell her to ring burglar alarm emergency maintenance people - she does so.

Get home - inside alarm is loud and painful, external alarm sounds like clucking starling - neighbours have called police, who called another neighbour who's supposed to have the key.

• Burglar alarm maintenance man comes - disconnects alarm.
• We ring an electrician. He can't come.
• We ring another electrician. He comes in the morning and disconnects a whole circuit, so now we have power to the rest of the house but not to freezer, dishwasher, burglar alarm or the wi-fi network.

Great man, this electrician!  He comes back on Sunday morning and finds the problem, - a fused wire in a socket that must have been sparking for ages.  He fixes it and another potential problem (electrical joke - laugh!) and switches that circuit back on again. And he explains RCDs, new legislation on circuit boxes, leaks in circuits and trip switches.  

Visit to Bristol university

Daughter & I have been to see various maths departments in universities, including Warwick, Bath, Surrey and Bristol. They offer more or less the same but ask for different A-level grades. Warwick, for instance, asks for four grade As, ie AAAA.

Yesterday we went to see maths dept in Bristol. She has to make a firm choice of university and a back up choice in case she doesn't get the grades for her firm choice.

Choosing a university

• reputation
• course
• flexibility
• type of uni: collegiate (Oxford, Durham), campus (Bath, Warwick), city (Bristol, Birmingham), metro (London)
• accomodation
• cost of living
• abiltiy
• teaching
• social life
• geographical situation

And an admissions tutor amplified on these various aspects of choice.

Where do maths grads go next?
You can't tell long term, so Bristol can only say of its recent graduates

• 30% in finance
• 20% in further study
• about 15% other
• 12% industry

Requirements are AAB results in A-levels. Bristol is turning away people with predicted AAA but only single maths.

Studying maths at university
Activities include:

• lectures
• tutorials
• problem classes
• homework
• practical sessions

In the first year you expect to do units totalling 120 credit points so as to sample all aspects of maths.

If you go on to a MMath, it's a four year course, but with the master's being mainly taught components.

Son to Switzerland

Son's making own way to airport for this trip to Switzerland, for the student conference that Deloitte's running. He sent me four texts, more or less like this. Together they give the sense of frustration with public transport:

Son text me.

“Underground delayed,

Circle, Bakerloo and District lines running late

Not fun with this suitcase.

Two connections. Grr!”

“On the Gatwick express.”

“Checking in okay.”

“Boarding!

Bye”

Uncle J died Friday

Odd! There I am thinking about Uncle Bill when his big brother, Jack, dies. Uncle Jack was 90, nearly 91.

I'll add a page for him to the family site and include some sound recordings from the memorial service.

Spanish lodger left

Our lodger's left. It wasn't anything that we did, honest! But she landed a teaching job in Spain. It seems that in Spain, it isn't too easy to get teaching jobs, but you have to take a test with 60 or 70 subjects in it, and then if you pass, you may get offered a supply job. Well our lodger had passed the test, but a supply job came up on Thursday evening - she found out through the web site. She was to start on Monday in Spain, so on Friday she handed in her notice at the school where she's been a language assistant since October, and told us.

Poor thing had no notice and has had to leave bags of stuff, including food and meals that she'd cooked and frozen. She hopes to come back for a few days to fetch her things and perhaps come again in summer to improve her English.

The good thing is that she gets to see her gorgeous dogs again. Here's a photo she sent me of one of them.

And I expect her mother will be pleased to have her home.

Horse in garden

We have a new toy in the garden, this rubber horse. It's cleverly made out of just one rubber tyre, cut and twisted back on itself to create a head and tail. Husband says grown ups are not to go on it. But I've had a swing - and I reckon it's just big people aren't to go on it or they'll be too heavy and break the rope.

Mothering Sunday

Had yesterday off marking assignments to go and see the Mikado in London, and now have strains of "I have a little list... they never would be missed" running through my head.

We went up to London, youngest daughter, husband and I. We

• lunched at the National Gallery
  
• had a mosey round some Turner and Constable paintings, as well as Leonardo's Virgin of the Rocks,
  
• walked down Parliament Street just up to Downing Street,
  
• strolled around St James Park - saw squirrel

I did enjoy the Mikado and am rather sorry that we didn't buy a copy of Richard Suart's "They'd none of them be missed" - I've ordered a copy from Amazon.

Rude mother and Uncle Bill

Son on phone to me today accused me of being rude. "Nanna and Gran'pa and Granny are the politest people. Why are you rude?" I don't think I was being very rude, but it did set me wondering where I'd got my rudeness from - I can't have inherited from such polite parents. But I did have a rude uncle.

Uncle Bill was deliciously rude. For example, when I was around seven years old, I remember him eating spaghetti - this was something that my Nanna, with whom he lived, would cook for him in a Bolognaise sauce. He would take some very long strands of sauce covered spaghetti, and slurp and suck them into his mouth, and they whirled round and round in the air before disappearing down, and his mouth would blow out into a big 'O' and his eyes would open wide as if surprised and Nanna would say, "Bill, behave yourself in front of the child!" Perhaps it's from him I've got my rudeness.

He never married - perhaps he didn't find the right person - perhaps it was the war. His wartime memories are up on the BBC history web site. See for example, Training completed - a letter home and Overboard

Does anyone else remember stories of Uncle Bill? Can you add them as a comment here? And I should find a photo of him too.

New Zealand contacts

I've got a few friends in New Zealand, and someone from there has sent me an anonymous letter!

A hand addressed envelope arrived today with a full page spread from the Dominion Post newspaper on step-son's latest book. The envelope was post marked New Zealand, but no city, no covering note inside and I'm not sure whose the handwriting is.

Thank you, friend!

Quiet house

The only sound in The Mount today is husband and me rattling around in it. Daughter's gone skiing with school in half term, son's at uni, lodger's in Spain, and cat is in the garden, where it is staying.

I came back from tutoring yesterday evening, and found it weird because there were no children. I took on this tutoring job in 1989 because I could do it while their father looked after them when I had to go out on Saturdays and evenings, but now it doesn't matter any more - no-one needs to look after them the same.

Empty nest.

However, to my delight, eldest step-daughter and family were here. New baby smiled, nay - she laughed with me. The older two were in the garden playing. We've got a new toy out there - a rubber horse to swing on that we got from Luca's garden design. It must have gone down well as they stayed out for over an hour playing on that and with the toy kitchen that we have out there while their parents and grandparents had tea and chats in the warm kitchen.

Their company is something to enjoy now the youngest children are so often out of the nest.

Visiting Bath

Daughter and I went to visit Bath University where she had an interview in the maths department. There was the usual milling around of enthusiastic youngsters, the pleasant experience of finding someone else who is as interested in maths as you are, and the almost-always-male lecturer who provides an explanation of the course and eulogises on the department and the university.

Unfortunately, they did seem to emphasise Bath's great sporting facilities, and there were a lot of very sporty looking people bouncing around with their kit - probably because it's Wednesday afternoon when many universities take the time off studying for sport. This didn't go down too well with daughter, even though they apparently have a good tae kwondo club too.

Two other things put her off:

• the university doesn't have arts or social science faculties and she would like to meet other than scientists, mathematicians and technologists.
  
• after first year you have to live on the other side of the city and it takes 40-50 minutes to get across to the university
  

She quite liked the city; we spent a happy hour exploring the shops in the centre, including a magic shop where we found a birthday present for small cousin, and a chocolate shop...

We got back to the station in time to catch a train just after 5 o'clock.

Taxed

The assertion from the HRMC that their on-line filing system is secure taxes my beliefs.

I enthusiastically signed up for this some years ago, but to my horror found that they emailed me with my unencrypted password. That is not a secure action because anyone with access to my email server or their email server will have access to read my email, and the password in there. Consequently I have not used their on line system and will refrain from using it until I know that it is secure. Today's news that VIPs are barred from using it does not reassure me.

Heath Robinson

Heath Robinson eat your heart out!

We (daughter and me) being fed up with the rain dripping in through the conservatory badly designed roof have decided to take the task in hand. Waiting for architects and builders and planning permission from a tyrannical conservation officer meant damaged wood furniture, puddles of water on the play mat and slippy tiles.

So we've rigged up this Heath Robinson-like covering contraption over the parts that let in the most water most often. It's a £3 tarpaulin from B&Q, weighted down with water bottles.

Proud of step son

Step son is away on a tour of the states to promote his new book, The Logic of Life. He gave a copy to his father for Christmas (it's not published in the UK until February), and to my somewhat biased mind, it's good. My initial reaction was from the experience of having read an awful lot of research literature in the last year, so I thought I could see that he had researched his field (economics) and could provide the academic proof and references if required. It is a solid piece of work, written for the serious but inexpert reader. It is easy to read, fun to read, enjoyable even on holiday. I've ordered a couple of copies for people I thought would enjoy it too.

The critics are already at work, here for example, commenting on son's remark about Adam Smith never visiting a pin factory. But the comments just make me realise how interesting it is and how it's worth reading to see what the critics are commenting about.

What he's done to make me feel proud!

Son's going to Switzerland!

After an on-line application, a face to face interview and never giving up, son spent most of Christmas break preparing a three minute video as part of an application to join a student business forum that involves team work, including a day's skiing in Switzerland run by Deloitte. The web site looks inviting.

Naturally, son is not only on a high, but incredibly grateful to those friends and family who advised and supported him in making the video. I thank them too.

Photos of Kerala

There should now be photos and even a video of our stay in Kerala. See

• Homeward via Mumbai
• Kumarakom continued
• Houseboat & lake
• Houseboat (Jan 6th continued)
• Kummily to Kumarakom
• Our driver
• Kumarakom
• Lazy day
• To Thekkady
• Tea plantation at Munnar
• To Cochin
• Kerala - Cochin

Any other photos not published here (or not publishable such as the demonstration of the outside shower) will be available elsewhere.

spare Jan 8th liz

It was lovely to see Sunil at the airport, even though he wasn't able to drive us from the hotel. I hope it didn't put him out too much to come to the airport. I wonder if he lives in Cochin? near the airport or near where the Radisson hotel is?

That hotel is like another world, a compound quite cut off from the rest of India. One day there we borrowed a couple of bikes and husband and I went out for a cycle ride, to see what it was like outside. Inside was quiet, with perhaps few guests strolling round, but more often you saw security guards, especially near the lake where the houseboat arrived. And there were gardeners there in the day time, with little green hats like sunshades on their heads while they worked in the sun. The bathroom in our cottage had a bath and two showers, one in an outdoor courtyard and even if the electricity went off there was a generator so that the hotel still carried on with light, sound, or whatever electrical use was required. One night there was a presentation of India classical dance, followed by Indian classical music, but for a few moments when the electricity cut, before the generator came in, the sound did not echo round the amphitheatre (yes, there's a small amphitheatre in there too!)

As you can imagine, outside the compound, there was no evidence of electricity, running water, plumbed sewage and I realised that women riding bicyles was a rare sight too. One girl of around 15 on her way home from school hid her eyes in shock when she saw me riding along.

-- 

Photos of Ahmedabad

I've added photos to:

• First impressions
• Adrian's first impressions
• How we met
• The Navjote
• Adrian's report on the Navjote
• Monday shopping

I've also changed the layout so that the post titles appear on the right hand side - I've been up since 4.30 this morning doing this. No I'm not working hard, just jet-lagged because 4.30 UK time is 11 o'clock in the morning in India.

I'll do the Kerala photos later....

Altars and symbols

In Kerala, not only were churches and shrines (Hindu & Christian) everywhere, but also symbols of communism were present.

In Ahmedabad, we noticed the patterns on the floor - now meant to bring an auspicious day, but originally, made of lime, were to keep the ants away.

And in the Parsee homes, I saw altars. Here's one with the candle burning that I saw in a sitting room, but in a kitchen I was surprised to see that even kitchen tiles display Zorastor.

Poverty

I was saddened and surprised to see an improverished family at the side of the road on the way to Cochin airport. Squatting together, three children and an old man, while another adult worked nearby, they were thin and dusty with matted hair, but the six or 7 year old girl was totally naked. When she saw my white European face looking through the window of our air-conditioned Toyota, she rather listlessly held out her palm, more from habit I think than hope, as she didn't move from her squat for another few moments.

Our driver said they were north Indians. It's the first sign of poverty I've seen in Kerala - people here might have little or nothing, no sewage, no electricy, few goods, but they are clean, healthy, nourished, the children in school uniforms and free schooling provided. The Luce book indicates that there is a lot of school truancy, but in Kerala I think the education and state support for education means that a high percentage of this population is literate, healthy and employed.

Homeward via Mumbai

Jan 9th Homeward via Mumbai

We had to arrange a last minute hotel room for our overnight stop in Mumbai, and found the prices surprisingly London-like.

As we drove away from the Radisson and towards Cochin and the airport, wife noticed a group of villagers clustered around something – which turned out to be a large snake, probably a python.

As we approached Cochin Airport, there were some Vodafone sponsored driving rules, many of which were sensible, but I enjoyed:

• “Avoid rash driving” - stay at home?
• “Avoid over speeding” -just speeding’s ok?

Daughter texted:

"We've a leaky radiator, i caused 9sister) to panic, the house is a mess, and i'm hungry. How are you?"

Guess we'd better get home.

Kumarakom continued

Jan 8th
Wife was recovered today but we took things easy to enjoy the facilities here together. And up early enough to photograph the sunrise from our room across the lagoon.

In the late afternoon, we ventured outside on the hotel bikes - this was okay while we were on the by-roads but when we reached a busier road, with buses, taxis, cars, transporting children home from school, which we turned off at the first opportunity. The sight of an (adult) woman on a bicycle seemed unusual to the locals, although I have seen women riding motor-scooters.

In the evening we enjoyed Indian musicians and classical dancers while sitting on the amphitheatre outside the restaurant after dinner. Two girl dancers with a singer, flautist and drummer for some traditional dances, followed by music, with a second type of drummer (instrument looked like a large spherical jar) replacing the singer. (See file later on family site). It was all very lively and more accessible to my ears than my previous, limited hearing of Indian music. This was southern (Karnatic?) tradition, I believe there is a distinct northern tradition (according to the young man serving us whisky and mocktails in the bar).

Liz writes
The Raddison hotel is like another world, a compound quite cut off from the rest of India. We borrowed a couple of bikes so husband and I went out for a cycle ride, to see what it was like outside. Inside was quiet, with perhaps few guests strolling round, but more often you saw security guards, especially near the lake where the houseboat arrived. And there were gardeners there in the day time, with little green hats like sunshades on their heads while they worked in the sun. The bathroom in our cottage had a bath and two showers, one in an outdoor courtyard and even if the electricity went off there was a generator so that the hotel still carried on with light, sound, or whatever electrical use was required. One night there was a presentation of European classical music (saxophone and cello?) followed by India classical dance, then by Indian classical music, but for a few moments when the electricity cut, before the generator came in, the sound did not echo round the amphitheatre (yes, there's a small amphitheatre in there too!)

As you can imagine, outside the compound, there was no evidence of electricity, running water, plumbed sewage and I realised that women riding bicycles was a rare sight too. One girl of around 15 on her way home from school hid her eyes in shock when she saw me riding along.

This was the best hotel that we stayed in whilst in India, not just because of the amenities, but also because the staff were so helpful especially when I was ill and dehydrated, well trained, not just courteous but friendly as if they were really interested in you. In the evening we mentioned to the barman that we'd been for a ride, and he enquired if I had gone too, side saddle behind my husband. He gasped in surprise when I explained that no, I had ridden a bike too, and said that in India, the girls were homely, so wouldn't ride bikes. This was the barman who created a mocktail for me and asked us to name it - we chose Maiden's Blush because of its pink colours - apple, mango, pomegranate and something else. And then the same barman went on to discuss music with us trying to find what CD to put on would best please us, and in the end, serenading us himself with classical guitar music.

Houseboat & lake

Jan 6th - Liz
We spent only one night on the houseboat, but it was a splendid experience because of the

• views
• food
• people
• sounds

The views included a splendid sunset across Lake Venbanad, with birds flying into the dusk.

The food included a delicious ginger and lime drink offered as soon as we arrived on the boat, as well as huge fresh water prawns, delicious curries, and coconut water and meat presented to us fresh from the tree, hewed in front of us. We're delighted to find that our chef, Gireesh Kumar P. C, has his own web site with some of these recipes.

From our boat we could see fisherman, children playing in the water, women washing clothes and crockery at the edge of the backwaters, their houses, queues of people waiting for the ferry.
We heard the children calling, "one pen, give me one pen", and the water lapped around the boat, lulling us to sleep.

Jan 7th - Adrian
The final leg of our houseboat trip took us across the width of the lake to a sumptuous Radisson hotel resort. Unfortunately wife's stomach took a dislike to something so we were confined to our room, which had a small balcony, a large bathroom with a bath (the first encountered in our trip) and in-built shower, as well as two other shower units, one inside and one outside in a private court-yard, which was irresistibly inviting.