Trial; painting; Pope trivia

Jury duty over: trial ended on Friday; verdict delivered and sentence passed. What devilry resulted in my ending up being jury foreman, I’ll never know, except that no one particularly seemed to want the job and I admitted in a weak moment to having some experience chairing meetings. As there were five counts on the indictment and more than one defendant being tried, this resulted in the less than enjoyable experience of having to stand up in the courtroom and having to pronounce seven verdicts in succession. Fixed my gaze firmly on the court clerk throughout, as I think I saw advised online among some ‘What to do if you end up being foreman’ advice.

I had thought that we would then be dismissed and the judge would perhaps spend a few days considering our verdict before passing sentence, but no, we then had to sit through a load of admin from the prosecutor, pleas from each of the defence counsel on behalf of their clients followed by Actual Sentencing. People being sent to prison and stuff. Now trying to avoid being too plagued by worry as to whether we delivered justice, whether we deliberated for long enough (we deliberated for four and a half hours, but as you are given no guidance whatsoever, it’s hard to know how long is a respectable length of time) and whether we were too swayed by being dead impressed by the prosecution case and the prosecution lawyer herself, whose performance one of the younger jurors categorised as “shit hot”.


On a lighter note, the time spent waiting in the jurors’ lounge over the last few weeks provided an opportunity to catch up with some gossip magazines, though in my view there weren’t really enough of these provided. There were a distressing number of issues of Homes & Antiques, which forced me to become more familiar than I’d like with the world of antique collectors and the work of Emma Bridgewater; also copies of World Finance and various motorsport magazines. I did learn that apparently there’s a burgeoning fan fiction around boy band One Direction, as they keep being papped touching each other¹.

Applied the first paint-and-water coat (I believe the painterly term is a ‘mist coat’) to bedroom 3 a couple of Saturdays ago. My first experience of painting a ceiling; not a particularly enjoyable job but at least it’s done now. Two more coats of Jasmine White to go. Ruth’s stripping and oiling job on the door is now finished and she has attached some attractive new door handles. We attempted re-hanging the door ourselves, which has worked after a fashion – I say “after a fashion” as, although it hasn’t fallen off, it won't shut properly either. A temporary hitch, hopefully.

Among all the recent drama surrounding the Catholic church, two of the more charming Pope-related articles include this piece about Benedict XVI’s fashion sense and how his red Prada slip-ons ousted the memory of John Paul II's staid brown lace-ups. Also this interactive guide to how a new Pope is chosen – it’s worth replaying the second frame just to see all the little red cardinals repeatedly running into the Sistine Chapel.

To end with a nod to the horsemeat crisis: found these leftover KOTTBULLAR meatballs in my freezer this evening. In the interests of thrift, took my life in my hands and ate them. Feel OK so far.

¹ This fact gleaned from Heat, not from World Finance.

Jury service continued; sick bunny

Non-stop excitement of being a juror continues. Following on from the last post: duly returned to court on Thursday, where we sat for two hours doing nothing before being sent home again. Returned for 10.30am on Friday, where the c. 20 of us were again led into the courtroom, and another 12 were chosen. Somewhat to my surprise – though the process is of course random – my name was called again. We went through the whole swearing-in malarkey again, followed again by judge’s talking to, before, most excitingly, things actually got going. The around 3 hours in total that we were in court on Friday were taken up with the prosecution lawyer giving us a quick crash course for dummies in the general topic of the trial, and then presenting a wad of evidence, which was a good deal more interesting than the general topic had led me to expect. I can, of course, say no more – but it’s probably safe to say that getting away with criminal activity must have been made a good deal more difficult with the advent of mobile phones, cell site technology and automatic number plate recognition.

We were asked to return for 1.45pm on Monday, which 11 out of the 12 of us did – most annoyingly, one juror failed to turn up or to respond to the court’s calls, with the result that the rest of us sat in the jurors’ lounge for two hours before being sent home. She did show up on Tuesday morning – I think the rest of us were hoping that she’d been given a good talking-to, which she may have been, though she appeared not noticeably chastened – though I can’t say I’ve actually heard her utter a word as yet so perhaps she’s taking refuge in silence. I probably shouldn’t mention her name, but her first name is Amber. Probably says it all – amazed she could even find the court building.

After Monday’s time-wasting we had a full (well, four and a half hour) day in the courtroom yesterday listening to five witnesses give their evidence and then be questioned by the defence. Really quite exciting, almost like on the telly – though none of the lawyers has yet leapt up and shouted ‘Objection!’. Also sat through the reading out of 50 pages of interview between the police and one of the defendants. Returned to court this morning where we watched some more CCTV footage and listened to a long statement from HMRC. Back tomorrow morning to hear another witness, I believe.

We've now been warned that the case could continue until some time during the week 4-8 March, so somewhat over the standard two weeks. The OU will only pay me for the first two weeks so now have to find out how to claim the loss of earnings allowance from the courts service.

Managing to use some of my spare time this last couple of weeks to crack on with typing up Mum's letters to Gran from Indonesia from 1978 to 1980. Current one opens with 'You must have been quite worried to hear of the volcano erupting'.

When I came out of the court on Friday afternoon there was a woman outside in the street having a good old eff and blind - a be-wigged and gowned barrister (her defence, presumably) was pleading with her to stop ranting in case a juror came out and heard her. Subsequently realised on perusing last week’s free rag that she was the wife in this case. Certainly she looked a hard-bitten piece of goods. The case sounds pretty tawdry but I was faintly amused at her choice of weaponry – a guitar and a tub of cocoa butter not perhaps being the most obvious things to assault your husband with. There were press outside the court all day on Friday so maybe she was shouting at them.

Had dinner at the Thai Corner on Saturday night to celebrate Claire’s birthday. I had a red curry with beef, which was enjoyable though on seeing the griddled seafood platter Ali had I wished I’d ordered that.

Breakfasted with Ray this morning at Julia’s Meadow. The lovely Mr Julia’s Meadow has a new, larger coffee cup in his repertoire. The coffee continues excellent.

It appears, sadly, that Lola may be ill. Ruth has been concerned for a couple of months about her slight weight loss and a seeming shift in the dominance relations ‘twixt the two bunnies – up until recently Lola has always been dominant (as is apparently the norm among rabbits) but lately this seems to have slipped a bit as she has been seen grooming Harley (previously hardly ever happened) and allowing him access to her cardboard box in the living room which is generally strictly her domain. Lola has also been pulling out the fur on her leg and stomach, and as she has now developed quite a bald patch we took her to the vet again on Friday. The vet didn’t seem to have any definite ideas but did take some blood, which we then had tested at some expense. It appears that her lymphocyte levels are high, which is likely to indicate cancer. We’ve been offered an ultrasound, which would confirm the diagnosis, but as that costs £200 we’re not sure whether we’ll go ahead with this, as the prognosis is unlikely to be good whatever action is taken. Have decided to monitor for the moment – currently she is still eating and seems reasonably alert and not withdrawn, but if that changes then more decisive action may be in order.

Harley does not appear to be responding with much compassion and has taken to aggressively chasing and mounting Lola. Have threatened to pair him with a Jack Russell if anything happens to Lola, but even that thought doesn’t appear to be subduing him. He has also put on quite a bit of weight, in direct contrast to Lola's weight loss. Here he is skulking in the bedroom today looking like a little fat squirrel.

Jury-related rant; religion in the legal process; surreal photos

Reported to Reading Crown Court at 9:00 am on Monday for my stint of jury service. Sat in the jurors’ lounge with about 60 other members of the public, being shown a DVD on ‘Your Role as a Juror’, followed by various other announcements about how to claim expenses etc. We also all had to fill out a form relating to a ‘long case’ starting this week, which could potentially run into a third week – supposedly the form was to weed out people who couldn’t commit to the third week, but actually it offered minimal get-out, being restricted to questions such as ‘Are you expecting to be admitted to hospital as an inpatient within the next three weeks’, etc.

After that, sat around for a few hours before my name was called along with around 20 others. We trooped out to the jury reception desk to be told we were being released for the day, but to return for 1.45pm on Tuesday. Duly did so, where our names were read out again and we were told we’d been assigned to the long case mentioned above. We were taken upstairs by the court clerk and asked to read through a list of names connected with the case and to say if we knew any of them – no one did (or at least no one was saying) so we were led into the courtroom, where we stood huddled nervously in a group and the court clerk shuffled cards with our names on, before reading out 12 names from the pack to step into the jury box. Mine turned up as one of the 12 – seem to be getting lucky with being randomly selected for things; shall expect a EuroMillions win quite soon. Those not selected trooped out, while the hallowed 12 were sworn in (more on that below) and then lectured by the judge about not discussing the case with friends and family, not looking it up on Google etc. Judge then announced that we would break for the day and reconvene for 11am on Wednesday. So we all trooped out again. Impressions so far of the legal process are that it works quite slowly.

In the event, when we returned for 11am today, there turned out to be a delay due to two of the selected jurors having filed notes with the judge that they could not commit to a third week of jury service. When we were eventually re-seated in the courtroom, the judge announced that given the stated circumstances he could not compel the two in question to serve, with the result that the whole jury would have to be disbanded and a new jury selected. Slightly incredulously, we left and filed back downstairs, several of us (me included) muttering tetchily. Sat in the jurors’ lounge for another hour or so, until a new list was read out to form a revised ‘jury in waiting’ for the long case. Hadn’t expected mine to be on it this time, but it was, along with most of those selected the previous time. Then told that again, we were being released for today, but to return for 1.30pm tomorrow. At this rate it’ll go into a fourth week, never mind a third.

Obviously I am not party to the intricacies of the legal process, but several of us were at a loss to understand why they could not have simply selected two replacements from the larger group of c. 20 that had been selected the previous day. Had assumed that was the point of it. How little I know.

Still may not actually end up serving on the case in question, as we won’t know until we go into the courtroom tomorrow which 12 of us will be selected to enter the jury box. Hey ho. Trying to adopt relaxed, philosophical attitude, but with limited success currently. Emailed boss with an update and a few comments on the frustratingness of the process; received cheery reply commiserating but noting that this week's DLHE audit had gone well, which failed to cheer me up as much as it perhaps should have done.

One thing that gave me pause, and that underlines the need for my continued support of the National Secular Society, was the way in which it is evidently still the default expectation that jurors will take an oath on the Bible. The twelve places in the jury box are each laid out with Bibles and a laminated copy of the accompanying oath. You have the right to choose to 'affirm', rather than to take an oath, but you have to tell the jury officer of your choice beforehand, and the court clerk then hands you a special card when it's your turn, along with saying to the judge 'This juror has chosen to affirm' (nothing is said re those who take the oath). True to my humanist principles, I did choose to affirm, as did two others (both young Asians), but the decision makes you stand out, whereas I briefly reflected that perhaps it should be those choosing to clutch a holy book in their sweaty palm who should stand out. Or, better, for a court of law to be entirely free of holy books, and for them to be confined to places of worship and bedside tables. Rant no. 2 over ...

On a less contentious note, Ruth and I met Ray and his friend Dave yesterday for a pleasant breakfast at the Alto Lounge. Ray and Dave had been to Celtic Manor for a couple of days' golf, along with a few others, but evidently the whole thing had been pretty rain-sodden - indeed Ray and Dave had evidently bailed on Sunday's golf and spent the afternoon in the hotel spa instead. Took these two decidedly peculiar pictures - the camera on my phone evidently decided to have a funny moment. They almost look quite artistic.

Birthday; civic duty; snow

A brief summary of post-Christmas activity:

Ruth and I went up to London on 2 January for a walk along the Regent’s Canal from Little Venice. Started with a bite at the Waterside Café then walked for I suppose a couple of miles along canal bank of varying degrees of attractiveness, before arriving at Camden Lock and taking a brief look around the market and surrounding streets. Quite rapidly realised that the whole shebang holds considerably less appeal for me now than it did when I frequented it occasionally in my early 20s. Perhaps some things are best left to the young. We had a quick drink in the World’s End, looking, I think, world-weary, then made our way home.

Celebrated Ruth’s 40th birthday on 3 January by heading to Hungerford to meet several of her relatives for lunch at The Bear. After a limited yet quite stressful liaison with the hotel beforehand over Prosecco and fairy cakes, have decided that I am not cut out to be an events organiser. I got to sit next to Ruth’s mother’s delightful cousin Mary, who is always good value, so that was a plus. The picture is of Gail and Ruth and their teenage cousin Norman, who manfully sat through what must have been a tedious occasion full of much older people – I applaud him for not getting out his mobile half an hour in and starting to text friends, but he’s obviously too well-bred for that. I had booked us in to stay at the Bear overnight, as a birthday present, which was lovely, especially as I got to wallow in a bath while Ruth fiddled with the dodgy TV reception. Despite having had a large lunch we forced ourselves to have dinner in the bar, which was probably a bit unnecessary.

Had another birthday meal on 5 January, this time with friends at the Forbury Hotel’s Cerise restaurant. Expensive, but all agreed food v.g., which compensated. Afterwards, all of us except Claire went on for a nightcap at what is now a wine bar called Valentino’s on Valpy Street (it was previously the restaurant ‘Chronicles’ where we in fact had dinner for my 40th in 2008).

Kicked off a New Year notion of making more effort to make some money out of old stuff by selling a pair of shoes via the OU Noticeboard. The shoes are the kind of style I like but as I don’t really do heels over about an inch, I’d bought them and never worn them. After an absurd series of exchanges with a postroom operative called Vince, who tried persistently to haggle me down on the price (only discovered quite late in our exchanges that he wanted the shoes for his wife; prior to that I’d been adopting an open-minded ‘takes all sorts’ attitude), I eventually sold them to a lovely woman called Jenny, who seemed dead chuffed with them. So a rewarding outcome. Next up is a pair of mirrors – might give eBay a go. Still convinced that it’s going to be the ‘Diana funeral’ issue of OK! lurking in the attic that’s going to make my fortune.

HESA seminar in London on 15 January: went up to town blitheringly early to meet Ruth at Café Central on Old Street for a pre-work emergency summit. Then walked from Old Street to the venue near St James’s Park tube, for my exercise for the day. Judith and I made our way back to Euston after the seminar to barely manage to cram onto a train to MK, which was packed due to earlier cancellations and then moved at a snail’s pace as it had inserted a few extra stops at villages along the way, presumably in deference to the earlier cancellations. Was reminded once again of how I wouldn’t fancy a lengthy daily commute.

Vaguely excited to return home at the weekend recently to open a brown envelope from Her Majesty’s Courts Service and be greeted by the words ‘Jury Summons’. In case there should be any doubt as to what the communication is about, these words appear in a thumping great pink font (see below), followed by the exciting news that you’ve been selected at random from the electoral register to perform an important civic duty. Your employer is obliged to give you the time off to perform jury duty, though they’re not required by law to pay you for it – thankfully, the lovely OU does, at least for the first 10 days. Agreed with boss that deferring it would only mean having to do it at a busier time of year, so as things stand, I shall be reporting to Reading Crown Court on 11 February. Hoa in the office, who did jury service last year, says it involved a lot of hanging about.

On scanning the OU’s ‘Public Commitments Guidance’ I also noted that, should I be elevated to the peerage during my employment, I won’t be required to resign my position with the University. What a relief.

Though I have had a Twitter account for a while, I haven’t up until now ventured onto it much, probably largely through fear of getting hooked. However, the frustration this week of trying to contact T-Mobile, my current mobile broadband provider, to ask some questions about their Fair Usage Allowance (the precise details of which seem to be, one suspects deliberately, shrouded in mystery) led me to send a tweet to their @TMobileUKhelp service (this following an unrewarding phone call to their premium rate phone number, which consisted of being subjected to deafening ‘hold’ music for around 3 minutes before someone in their second line support eventually answered, whereupon my phone credit promptly ran out). As I write it’s five days since my initial tweet; have since followed up with two others. My tweets are threatening to become a squawk.

Snow on Friday led to my, perhaps over-cautiously, opting to stay in MK for the weekend, though the further snowfall on Sunday seemed to validate that decision. Took the bus into CMK on Saturday morning and had a bit of a wander about, including making what may I guess have been my last ever visit to HMV. Bought two DVDs for a tenner (the BBC Pride & Prejudice, plus the more recent Keira Knightley film, as Ray nicked our joint copy of the latter and now won’t be parted from it). Here’s the receipt, just to record the event. Amazing to think how much time when younger I spent browsing around HMV and the Virgin Megastore, though much less in recent years. All hail the cornucopia of online wondrousness that is Amazon – while, obviously, giving it a token slap on the wrist for obliterating high-street media retailers. The latter won’t stop me shopping there though. Pic is of the concrete cows, looking snowy.

Spent pretty much the rest of the weekend holed up in the flat with Series 2 of Sherlock, recently lifted from Ruth’s DVD collection after she succeeded in getting me hooked on it. Repeated viewings definitely assisting with grasping the somewhat convoluted plots. According to this Telegraph piece, the nature of the Holmes/Watson relationship has been the subject of speculation since long before the current BBC version. The piece also quotes the two actors from the BBC version denying that there’s any funny business going on between their characters, though it’s not clear how this sits with Martin Freeman’s earlier comment about Sherlock being the gayest story in the history of television.

After a snowy early morning walk on Monday, making good use of my invaluable snow spikes, I arrived on campus at 08:45 to find the North Spur car park completely empty. A bit funny, I thought. On reaching my office and discovering that the entire corridor was deserted, I became suspicious and checked the staff intranet, to see the message below:

Hadn’t occurred to me to check in with this before leaving home, but I shall be wiser on any future snowy days. All of my colleagues had seemingly either had the presence of mind to check the intranet before leaving home, or had come in earlier and already buggered off. Actually I discovered on Tuesday that quite a few of them are signed up to the OU’s ‘emergency text alert’ service, which notifies staff should campus be closed/be annihilated during the night by nuclear holocaust, etc. I was dimly aware of it but had never got around to signing up. Have done so now, though s*d’s law there probably won’t be another campus closure now.