Showing posts with label OU study. Show all posts
Showing posts with label OU study. Show all posts

19 March 2017

Basket of goods

Originally published on my OU study blog while studying module M140 'Introducing statistics'

Unit 2 of M140 introduces the Consumer Prices Index (CPI) and the Retail Prices Index (RPI). The CPI and RPI are two of the Office for National Statistics' suite of consumer price inflation indices, which are based on a notional 'basket of goods'. This basket of goods is amended periodically to reflect changes in consumer spending patterns.

This article shows how the basket has changed over time, and contains some fascinating stuff about changing British shopping patterns. I was surprised that the mangle was only removed from the basket in 1962 - that seems recent to me. Condensed milk stayed in until 1987 - I don't think I've ever tried it, though I believe my grandpa used to have it in his tea. The mashed potato substitute Smash was in the basket from 1974 to 1987, when it was replaced by frozen oven chips. 2016 apparently saw coffee pods, microwave rice and computer game downloads added.

Found this article in last Wednesday's Metro, headed Just How Hip(ster) Are You?, which notes that the ONS has taken account of the hipster trend in its annual basket review.

26 February 2017

RFID and Beat the Street

Originally published on my OU study blog

Learned about RFID (radio frequency identification) tagging as part of TU100 last year. Recently tried this out by activating a Beat the Street card for the scheme running in Milton Keynes from 1 February to 22 March.

The cards, which are free, have a unique number and an activation code. You enter both while registering on the website at https://www.beatthestreet.me/miltonkeynes and it sets you up an account. The cards are used to ‘tap’ on Beat Boxes, which have been attached e.g. to lamp posts along footpaths across the town. The idea is that if you tap two within a certain time period, it gets registered as a journey and you get points. You can walk, run or cycle between Beat Boxes (I gather driving between them isn’t considered quite the thing).

A Beat the Street card

The scheme is about encouraging physical activity. The company behind Beat the Street is a Reading-based company Intelligent Health (who appear to be based on the Earley Gate side of the University of Reading's campus, near Temporary Office Building 1 where I used to work). They claim to make physical activity a way of life "through expertly delivered, measurable campaigns with long-term, community-wide benefits".

A number of my colleagues were doing this, so I decided I'd have a go. The downside has proved to be that, though it sounds a great idea, I've had very patchy success in getting the Beat Boxes to register my card. Taps on four different beat boxes one day last week only resulted in one actually lighting up, with the result that I didn't get any points. It's been reported that the MK scheme is unfortunately experiencing both technical issues and vandalism. Shame.

A Beat Box

8 February 2017

Second Life: part 2

Aha! After a bit of research via encyclopedia Google, I downloaded the beta version of the viewer, and I’m in.

[Caveat: may have had a glass of wine]

Gave up trying to think of an imaginative username that hadn’t already been taken. Eventually settled on ‘Annonny’.

On accessing the site, was faced with the following somewhat disconcerting message:

Luckily my clothes downloaded fairly quickly.

First dilemma: how on earth do you move around? I’m just standing in the middle of the street here.

OK, just narrowly missed being run over by a bus.

Figured out how to walk, with the help of the ‘How to’ facility.

Incidentally haven’t yet met anybody else.

Just got a message saying “You have been logged out of Second Life”.

Logged back in, and teleported to the OU’s ‘Deep Think’ island. It’s lovely. There’s sea and everything.

There’s absolutely no one else here though.

Incidentally my avatar is much slimmer than I am. Perhaps I should make her more authentic by adding a couple of stone?

7 February 2017

Second Life

Probably as a displacement activity when I should be studying MST124, I’m going to have another foray into Second Life this evening. Studied ‘Virtual worlds’ in Block 4 Part 4 of TU100 last year (ah, I miss TU100).

I first heard of Second Life in around 2007-2008, when rumours were going around at work that my then-boss had become so addicted to the virtual world that she was spending all night on it, which wasn’t helping her already dodgy work attendance and performance.  So it’s been around for a good while – and has quite probably had its heyday by now.

Here’s what I wrote last year when starting to study this part. The instruction was: “take some time (up to 20 minutes should be about right) to jot down some of your own thoughts about virtual worlds.” As often with TU100, about 1 minute sufficed, but this is what I wrote in response to the prompt questions:

Part of me thinks I’m the type of personality who could really have enjoyed and got into this stuff if I’d been exposed to it. Part of me thinks my personality type doesn’t need any encouragement and I should just get out more.

Section 2 of this part asks the question “What do you think the average game world user looks like?” Well, I’d probably give a stereotypical answer like: Hairy; has their own tankard at the pub with runes carved on it; slightly over-intense in everyday conversation.

Section 2 notes that a survey (Yee, 2006) “concluded that players in virtual game worlds enjoy meaningful relationships and significant emotional experiences, as well as developing skills such as leadership that translate into the physical world.” Well, who wouldn’t want some of that.

Second Life began in 2003, apparently. At the time the TU100 module materials were written, the OU evidently owned several virtual islands within Second Life. An embedded video in this part says that “The Open University is a trailblazer in Second Life”. The video features (former) OU Director of Learning Innovation Niall Sclater talking about the OU’s Second Life activities.

When I first had a go at Second Life while I was actually studying TU100, I only had mobile WiFi, and though I managed to set up an account and get access, it was pretty much a no go – endless buffering and moving in an extremely jerky fashion down a virtual street. I gave up pretty quickly. Now that I’ve actually got a proper broadband connection, let’s see if it works any better.

First off: I had to download the Second Life Viewer, as I’ve bought a new (Windows 10) laptop since I last attempted this. Downloaded it from https://secondlife.com/support/downloads/. Tried to install it and got the following message:

My virtual world attempts seem destined to failure at the moment. Back to calculus.

10 December 2015

Autumn snippets

A rundown of activity since the last blog post:

September


Mind Body Spirit festival

 

Caffe Chai, Warwick
Few hours spent at the Mind Body Spirit Wellbeing Festival at the NEC on 12 September. I had acquired two reduced-price tickets via Amazon Local thinking it might be a bit of a laugh. Ray obligingly said he would come with me – perhaps feeling morally obligated after postponing a get-together the previous Saturday to take his dad to a football match – and offered to drive, so we set off early and took a detour into Warwick where we found a cafĂ© for breakfast. Here I am outside it looking somewhat simple.

We arrived at the NEC – my first visit; main impression was of acres of car parks, that, cheekily, charge quite an expensive parking fee. The ‘festival’ itself was OK, though in a rather cramped arena. I tried to book in for a meditation session that was already booked up. We sat listening to some live singing for a while. Feeling I should try out one of the various sessions on offer, I decided to have a psychic reading – costing £30, as did all the ‘readings’ on offer; I’m quite surprised I paid for it – and foolishly took the first psychic that was free, an angel card reader named Rani. Can’t say I felt the 15 minutes was worth the money, but didn’t have the balls to ask for a refund, though the booker-in had told me that I could do so if I didn’t feel the reading had helped me. Rani dealt various cards and made a series of mainly inaccurate suggestions about me (Rani: “I feel you’re the sort of person others come to with their problems”; Me: “No, not really”), a series of banal observations based on things I had just told her, and displayed a startling lack of any psychic ability throughout. (When I mentioned having some discussions with my partner currently about what to do with our house, Rani responded with a suggestion about “him” – “Ah, she didn’t work that out then?” Ray scoffed over lunch). Left the reading when my time was up thinking I should have had my aura photographed instead.

What are angel cards anyway? According to Wikipedia they fall under the category of ‘OH cards’, though whether that stands for anything I’ve no idea. They seem to have their enthusiastic adherents, such as this woman quoted in an online forum re angel cards I found on a Google search:
“I truely [sic] believe in Angels too - especially when I have lost things I ask the Arc Angel Chamuelle for help in finding things … Also when I am feeling low I just talk to the Angels and within minutes see a single white feather so I know they are around us.”
The Hatton flight
This woman on Netmums (not my usual port of call for anything; it just came up in a Google search) says “I recently had my cards read, using Angel cards, and couldn't believe how accurate they were”. There you go then. There seem to be plenty available via Amazon, for example these, featuring a quite masculine-looking hunk of angel on the cover.

After having enough of the festival we retraced our steps towards Warwick and had lunch at the Hatton Arms, a large and quite smart pub near the Grand Union Canal. After lunch we walked down to the nearby Hatton Locks and had a look at the impressive flight. According to this history, the stretch of water that hosts the locks was the Warwick & Birmingham canal when it opened in 1799, part of a chain of eight canals connecting London and the Midlands. The Grand Union Canal Company took over the entire stretch in 1929 and did some modernizing in the form of widening the locks to allow boats to double up and traffic to thereby pass through more quickly.

Birth of Emily



Gail and Rob’s baby, Emily Charlotte Joyce, was born in early September. We visited Gail in the RBH the day after Emily was born and then again at home around a week later, when these pictures were taken. Emily has an insane shock of dark hair, which is very cute. 

Ruth actually had an hour alone with her a week or so ago while Gail went to a dental appointment, and apparently did manage to give her a bottle, but escaped having to change a nappy.

OpenHouse London

 

Alexandra Road estate
London OpenHouse weekend on 19-20 September and I had been determined to go this year, having missed out the last couple of years. Got over my moaning at the fact that you now have to pay for the hard copy catalogue of what’s on offer, and we bought one.

Inevitably with these things you end up not being able to pack in as many things as you think you’ll be able to. I had been keen for the last few years to see the Alexandra Road estate in Camden and go on the tour they offer of the interior of one of the flats, so we headed up there as our first port of call. When we arrived there was already quite a substantial queue for the flat tour, moving very slowly as they were only allowing four in at a time (due to the flat’s compactness) and evidently more people had turned up than the OH volunteers had expected, as they eventually started issuing people with timed tickets and asking us to come back later. We went off to have the tour of the estate garden that was on offer, and then returned to the flat an hour or so later, when, thankfully, we were admitted. Beautiful and well designed little space with a lovely balcony area that felt more like a little courtyard garden. The flat open to the public was evidently one that had had few changes made to it – the guide did say that a lot of the flats have had their interiors altered, but that there’s an attempt at clamping down on this with one chap in trouble currently for making some changes he wasn’t supposed to.

The estate was listed Grade II* in 1993, apparently the first post-war housing estate to be listed. Neave Brown, the architect, is distinguished by having had all his UK work listed, which seems incredible for a modernist architect. Go Neave. Though apparently he didn’t work in the UK again (he’s American) after Alexandra Road, thanks to the public enquiry into the project following its completion because it had cost so much.

Lunch outside at Poem
Bunhill Energy Centre
After spending more time than we’d planned to at AR because of the length of the wait, we sought out lunch nearby and settled on Poem, on the corner of Abbey Road and Boundary Road, where we had an OK light lunch. After this, we made our way over to the City area to visit Ruth’s choice, the Bunhill Heat and Power Energy Centre, a weeny little place doing all sorts of good things with energy in a way that I didn’t properly understand, probably through not being quite as interested as I should be. It opened in 2012 and supplies energy to three nearby estates.

At Salvador & Amanda
Returned to London on 26 September for celebrations of my university friend Helen’s 40th birthday. Ruth and I met Helen and seven or eight other people at Brown’s on St Martin’s Lane for afternoon tea – arranged to suit people who couldn’t stay out for an evening meal – then most of us went on for cocktails and dinner at the nearby Salvador & Amanda, a cellar restaurant on Great Newport Street. There was some disappointment with afternoon tea, mainly around the slowness of the service – though Ruth and I have enjoyed two pre-theatre dinners at that branch of Brown’s and not noticed any problems – but the dinner was nice and cellars are always atmospheric.

October


My digital life


Since early October am now studying my fourth OU module, this time the Level 1 module My digital life. Very interesting so far; it’s a broad-based module with a bit of programming, a bit of HTML and XML, a bit of (moderately) technical detail on networks and wireless communications, and no doubt other stuff to come. Am keeping a somewhat intermittent study blog on the OU's student blog area. Students are supposed to keep 'learning journals' but I find all that frankly a bit tedious. I consider myself to have done well if I spend time studying in the evenings after work, never mind then writing about it.

Discretionary increment


Pleased/smug in October to receive a merit award from the OU for the second year running. A certain number of these are made available to each unit every year as a way of rewarding specified individuals' performance. Judith handed me my letter with some kind words about the past year’s efforts. The additional increment on the pay scale doesn’t amount to a lot of extra money, but it’s better than a slap in the face.

Outing with Clarks


Went over to Maidenhead on 3 October and had lunch with Ray’s parents at Maidenhead Conservative Club. It was some years since I’d been there and I remembered the place as fairly dingy and thick with cigarette smoke, but it appeared much brighter and pleasanter on this occasion, no doubt substantially due to the smoking ban but I think also it might have had a coat of paint. Had a pleasant lunch with Ray senior and Carol and we then drove over to Hurley Riverside Park, where Ray’s sister Sharon now lives with her boyfriend Keith. Lovely setting; we admired Sharon’s garden and Carol, Sharon and I went for a walk down to the river, where I introduced them to the term ‘gongoozling’. Sharon and Keith have apparently been having issues with a mildly lunatic neighbour, which hopefully will be resolved soon.

Boat trip


Ruth and I were both pleased to have our first trip out on Ray’s boat for some time on 10 October. We went eastwards down the river as far as Sonning and moored up on the side of the river away from the path, where we had a lovely and leisurely breakfast. We passed the red spoon sculpture that Uri Geller had had erected by the Thames Path prior to his recent departure for Israel (audacious behaviour) - I attempted to take a picture of it, but there was plant life in the way, plus a number of other people on the path also taking pictures of it. Shortly after the spoon's installation, questions arose as to whether it had planning permission and a rude message was found taped to it. It then disappeared altogether, to be replaced with an actual bent spoon. It later turned out Uri himself had requested its removal, suspecting, quite probably correctly, that it wouldn't get planning permission. Geller's parting shot to the local council appears to have been "You can take my spoon, but you'll never be able to bend my creative freedom." Stirring stuff.

View of spoon through the trees
After breakfast we continued down river as far as Shiplake Lock, before turning round and returning to the marina. Ray has decided for the moment to pass up the prospect of moving to Enslow and is staying at Thames & Kennet for the time being. He has some grand refurb plans for the winter, including replacing his current cassette toilet with a pump out toilet, partly as this should prove easier for the klutzier visitor (e.g., me) to operate.  


November (first bit of)


Parents in MK

Tree Cathedral
Mum and Dad came for a visit the first weekend in November, Dad’s first to my Wolverton flat. I had carefully reserved them a space with my car in the Electrolux parking area – parking issues at Wolverton Park being the subject of a good deal of ranting on the Facebook group lately – and done a token tidy up. The Saturday was ushered in with possibly the worst weather I’ve seen since living here – lashing rain and really quite strong wind – and I was wondering slightly nervously what I would do with them for the afternoon if we couldn’t go outside, hoping not to be reduced to visiting the National Badminton Museum. We stalled for time once they arrived by having some lunch, but Dad, in a somewhat unusual display of optimism, thought we should go out anyway and perhaps it would clear up. Drove them (through increasingly heavy rain; asked at one point whether there was anything they wanted in John Lewis) to the Peace Pagoda car park and parked up, and we walked to the Pagoda and admired it briefly, by which point the rain was, thankfully, easing off.

I was mindful of not planning too long a walk, in deference to Dad’s recent bout of pneumonia, but he seemed up for a bit of a stroll so we walked past the Japanese temple and had a bit of a stroll around the garden, before carrying on to the bird hide on the south bit of North Willen Lake near the V10, where Mum and Dad had a sit down and a peruse of far-off birds, before concluding that it was a bit pointless as they’d forgotten their binoculars. We continued and had a brief visit to the Tree Cathedral – sun had come out by this point – before returning to the car and my flat. In the evening, we caught a bus into Stony Stratford and went for a couple of drinks at The Vaults before going for a nice dinner at the Calcutta. The next morning we went for a post-breakfast walk along the canal as far as the aqueduct, before retracing steps to my flat. After a brief sandwich lunch at Buskers they set off back to Wales.

Near the Peace Pagoda we noted the memorial of the Rev. Seiji Handa, with a small photo and a number of flowers. We couldn't really tell who he was - other than presumably a monk at the temple - but he would appear to have been this chap. What an unfortunate way to die.

On a more tranquil note - and hopefully no lawnmowers in sight - there's a brief commentary-free video about the Peace Pagoda and Buddhist temple here.  

Book Group


Got to go to my first Book Group meeting in a while on 13 November, as Claire M had kindly prevailed on the rest of the group to host the meeting on a Friday so that I could come. 6 out of the 8 of us (missing Lesley, and Sarah who hasn’t yet rejoined the group following the birth of her baby) met in Claire’s cosy back room to discuss Barbara Taylor’s ‘The Last Asylum’. Only Helen, Ali and myself had actually made any headway with reading the book, so it was a bit of a limited discussion, but we agreed that psychoanalysis is a bit of a mystery, and certainly can only have been the province of a rich (and leisured) few.

The book's cover photo is of the scarily long corridor at Friern Hospital in Barnet, the asylum referred to in the book's title where Taylor spent time as an in-patient in the 1980s. The building's now been converted into a luxury flat development called Princess Park Manor, which manages to avoid mentioning on its 'History' page that it was once a mental hospital. No clue whether they left the corridor intact.

Rambling for Pleasure


On the Sunday of that weekend I attempted to drag Ruth for a walk out of ‘Rambling for Pleasure around Reading’. I’d picked a walk around Arborfield with the sweetener of visiting Gail and Rob afterwards and then possibly going for a cheese toastie at Dobbies (that being about as grand as my gestures get). Entirely through my inept navigation, we started badly by walking quite a way down the wrong road, unsurprisingly being unable to find the entrance to Pudding Lane and having to retrace our steps to the Bull roundabout, where we picked up the correct road. As we’d used up a bit of time doing this, I cut the route short and we took a route back past Arborfield church, which appeared veritably packed with worshippers (Gail later told us that Arborfield's congregation is of a somewhat happy-clappy persuasion, including apparently sticking name badges on people when they arrive for a service) and thence slightly hazardously along the B3030 Sindlesham Road for a stretch before arriving back at the village.

St Bartholomew's, Arborfield
We paid a brief visit to Rob and Gail and said good morning to Emily, who was dozing peacefully in her baby carrier when we arrived, but was duly lifted up and passed around. In a laudable attempt to share Emily out, Gail whipped her off Ruth’s lap, where she’d just settled down relatively peacefully, and put her onto mine, where she perhaps understandably set up a lusty bawl and was duly removed, to be walked soothingly up and down the hallway.

We had a brief lunch in a crowded Dobbies, and may have bought some stuff but I forget now.

Henley


Went over to Henley for a few hours the following Saturday – I’ve hardly been at all the past few years but it is indeed a pleasant place for a wander around. Not sure whether my recent low iron levels were making me feel the cold more than usual, but it appeared bl**dy cold – we did go for a short stroll along the river but even I couldn’t face spending too much time on it. We spent most of the time having a wander around the shops and the Christmas market, and had a pleasant lunch at The Argyll. We went into Tudor House Antiques – don’t think I’d ever been inside while living in Henley, probably because neither Ray nor I care for antiques, but as Ruth likes them we went in and passed a mildly excruciating (at least from my point of view) 15 minutes or so staring at old stuff and banging my head on beams. Lingered for a while in Central Home, a new arrival in Henley, where I coveted a few things but didn’t buy them. Ruth bought a ring.

Must rest awhile before bringing this account up to date, as I am weary and must stitch a while on my sampler.

12 October 2015

Bases other than 10

Originally published on my OU study blog while studying module TU100 'My digital life'

Working through Block 1 Part 2 Session 6 triggered a memory from school from when I was 10 or so, when my parents wrote a letter to the teacher to say that “Emma has not quite grasped the concept of base six numerals”. Indeed I hadn't, and I'm not sure I ever did - I think possibly we just moved on to a different topic.

It did make me wonder what bases other than base 10 are used for. Block 1 explains that binary numbers are used in computing, so OK, I get that. Session 6 notes that base 16 (hexadecimal) is useful in some branches of computing. But what about other bases, such as base eight or indeed my old nemesis, base six?

I briefly Googled the base six numeral system. According to Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Senary it’s also known as ‘senary’. Interesting section on languages believed to use senary numerals.

I worked through the various conversion activities in Session 6 but I can’t say this stuff is intuitive. Especially converting from decimal to binary – what a faff. Nightmare keeping track of the columns and the 1s and 0s. The Sense activity (Activity 39) was quite fun though.

Image of Sense interface showing activity 39b

Charmed to learn that a set of four bits – half a byte – is called a ‘nibble’. Apparently the term is rarely used …

29 September 2015

A conversation with ELIZA

Originally published on my OU study blog while studying module TU100 'My digital life'

In Block 1 Part 2 we learned about ELIZA, a computer program whose DOCTOR script simulated a Rogerian psychotherapist. Apparently ELIZA was one of the first chatterbots, though I’m not too sure what this means.

As suggested in the course materials, I tried having a conversation with the OU's version of ELIZA. My input is introduced by asterisks (*). I found her abilities somewhat limited.


28 September 2015

The first computer I remember using

Originally published on my OU study blog while studying module TU100 'My digital life'

Relates to Activity 1 in Block 1 Part 2.

The first computer I remember using was an Amstrad computer that my father bought when he set up his own business in the late 1980s. It ran a word processing program called LocoScript, and had a daisy-wheel printer attached.

The clip of the screen shown on the Wikipedia entry on LocoScript here takes me back. To do things, e.g. create and edit files, you entered keyboard commands – e.g. ‘C’ for create a new document. There was no pointing and clicking with a mouse – you went up and down with the cursor. Also, the screen didn’t display what you typed in the way it would actually look, as they do now – you got the same green type on a black background whatever you did.

I was around 18 by the time I used my dad’s Amstrad. We never had a computer at home before that, though I know some people did have home computers earlier in the 1980s. At school, there was a computer room, but it wasn’t very accessible to most pupils. There was a computer club that another girl and I once went along to, but we felt sneered at by the computing enthusiasts there (all boys) and never went back. Thank God computers are much more accessible to everyone these days.

When I started work shortly after that as a secretary, I used a variety of word processing packages. Temping in the late 1980s/early 1990s meant having to learn a whole variety of packages depending on the job you went to – I used WordStar, WordPerfect and DisplayWrite 4, and probably others that I’ve forgotten. Whatever you think about Microsoft, the advent of Word must have made temping a whole lot easier!

27 September 2015

A search for Emma Thomas

Originally published on my OU study blog while studying module TU100 'My digital life'

Tried out the 'Google yourself' Activity 13 in Part 1 section 4.5.

What was revealed about me?

Expectations before doing this: I’m expecting to have some difficulty finding references to myself, as I imagine there may be a lot of other Emma Thomases out there.

How far down did I have to go before finding a reference to myself?

I scrolled down the first 20 pages of Google hits and couldn’t find a single reference to myself. I gave up after that. I suppose I can at least conclude that I’m reasonably anonymous.

Adding the keyword ‘Essex’ (I did my postgrad degrees at the University of Essex) did bring up my LinkedIn profile page on the first page of hits. Adding the keyword ‘Open’ (I work at The Open University) again brought up my LinkedIn profile page, as the first hit.

What was revealed about other people with the same name as me?

Mainly, that there are a lot of them.

Of the top 10 hits on ‘Emma Thomas’:

Other Emma Thomases seemingly more famous than me

I used to wish I had a less common name (and still do sometimes), but I suppose my name has some advantages.

The telephone

Originally published on my OU study blog while studying module TU100 'My digital life'

Relates to Part 1: 1.1 The telephone.

I found this comparison of the development of the computer to the earlier development of the telephone, really interesting. I've often thought about this when encountering people who seem really opposed to social media such as Facebook. How must the telephone have seemed when it first started to become widespread? Did some people pronounce that it would have terrible consequences for human relationships? Was it dismissed as a new-fangled piece of nonsense that would never last?

Also I thought about how the switch to STD must presumably have put a lot of operators out of work. This Lady article refers to the work of telephonists in the days when calls were manually connected. This book apparently describes working as a GPO telephonist. This Sunday Express article is interesting and notes that 'The job of operator became a popular choice of career for women in the early and mid-20th century.' It concludes: 'In an age when it is so easy to contact anyone, anywhere, something of the magic of the early years of telephony has been lost.' Over-nostalgic? I don't know as I don't remember the time when you had to go through an operator to make calls. Do older people feel nostalgic for the age of the operator? I can see how a human element in the process of making a telephone call has been lost - though the flip side of that is that it's presumably a lot quicker and easier now to reach the person you're actually trying to speak to.

(Why were long-distance calls called 'trunk' calls?)

What was the job of a ‘telephonist’? This job is referred to in The Best of Girl, published in 2006, a collection of extracts from the 1950s Girl comic, as part of 'Girl's Special Series on Careers'. It begins: 'Vivien has a pleasant voice and a good memory and hopes to become a telephonist when she leaves school', and goes on to outline the training that Vivien undergoes and the duties of the job. It also shows a male friend greeting Vivien with "I hear you're one of the 'Hello Girls' now". To which Vivien responds yes, she is, and she's "awfully thrilled".

10 October 2013

Bunny bonding; job search tedium; maths

Walked up to St Peter’s Avenue on the afternoon of Sunday 22nd to meet the lovely Sandra to view potential new companions for Harley. We were shown three female rabbits who were currently without companions – two, Patches and Lexie, whom Sandra had identified in advance as potentially suitable, and a third, Cherry, whom she included mainly because she’s been at the rescue centre for over two years. Ruth settled on Lexie, a largish and seemingly quite boisterous bunny, as her potential mate of preference, deciding (unfairly, I thought) that Cherry was too timid. Patches dented her chances by biting Ruth during the inspection.

I was personally rather charmed by another lone female Flopsy, a pug-faced dwarf lop with, evidently, personality issues – Sandra did try and find a few nice words to sell her to us with, but kept falling back on ‘She’s a dwarf lop’. Flopsy did indeed appear to be wearing a somewhat grumpy expression, but it could just have been the set of her face. By the time we emerged from viewing Cherry, Flopsy had turned her back on us. Poor thing. I do hope she finds an understanding mate.

Ray came round for dinner that evening, for the first time in a while, and we spent a pleasant evening in conversation, though as often happens, mainly him and Ruth in increasingly animated conversation while I chipped in occasionally. I broke up the party at around 11pm in deference to my 5.30am start, and bundled him into a taxi still clutching a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape we had been keeping as a reward for extended bunny-sitting, but which had somehow got broken into during the course of the evening.

Spent most of the following weekend preparing a presentation and other bits and pieces for another job interview, this time at the School of Oriental and African Studies as was, though it now seems to refer to itself just as SOAS, University of London. The actual interview itself was a mixed bag – presentation and first tranche of questioning went well; after that things went a bit downhill. Shoe crisis led to my wearing a none-too-comfortable pair of shoes I hadn’t worn for a while, so my feet were raw by the end of the day. Ended the day by realising I’d lost my debit card in a self-checkout machine at Euston, which said it all really.

Drove down to Abergavenny last Friday afternoon for my first viewing of Mum and Dad’s new house. There seems little way of ever making it a less than 3 hour journey from Milton Keynes, but my chosen route via back roads down to the A40, and thence on the A40 via Gloucester and Ross-on-Wye, proved particularly long-winded, not helped by snagged up Friday traffic at the A417 Air Balloon roundabout at Birdlip and around Monmouth. The journey was quite pretty though. Returning on the Sunday I chose the dull but quicker M5-M42-M40 route.

Much of Saturday and Sunday morning was spent looking after Nia while Dave and Hazel went to a wedding reception. I say “looking after” – Mum did the brunt of it, though I did contrive to push pushchairs and put DVDs in the DVD player. Was quite intrigued to see the revamped version of Postman Pat, in which Pat is no longer a mere postman but has been promoted to Head of the Special Delivery Service, and has a satnav and a mobile. Hannah and Henry called in for an hour or so in the afternoon, and we had cupcakes to celebrate Nia’s 18-month ‘birthday’ the day before.

As I write, Harley is now back home from his week away being ‘bonded’ with Lexie, together with his new ‘companion’. We had received a ‘heads up’ from Sandra during his time away to the effect that the bonding appeared to be going well, and indeed they posted this photo on Reading Rabbit Rescue’s Facebook page, together with slightly over-cutesy caption.

At the moment I have my reservations – a few days in to the new couple’s bonding, Steve and Sandra discovered that she had given Harley a bite for which he has had to go on a course of antibiotics. When I spoke to Ruth on the phone at the weekend, the two of them were apparently about as far away from each other as they could get. Time will tell if things improve.

Have recently signed up for another OU module, this time ‘Discovering Mathematics’. While not especially interested in maths for maths’ sake, I am quite interested in a couple of the statistics modules the OU offers, but as they both advise students to have a certain level of mathematics proficiency, and as I haven’t formally studied maths since taking my O-level in 1985, I thought perhaps a refresher might be the thing. Going OK so far, though I'm only a short way in to Unit 1. I have worked out how to switch on my newly-purchased scientific calculator though.

On the topic of exciting training opportunities: received a recent email from one of the several JISCMail lists I am subscribed to at work, advertising an Autumn 2013 programme of workshops, one of which was titled ‘Hands-on Augmented Reality’. ‘Augmented Reality’ probably has some technical meaning of which I am unaware, but on the surface it sounds as though it might involve magic mushrooms or similar.

31 October 2012

Glasses; skeleton cows; toasted sandwiches

After a certain amount of (but not an excessive amount of) revision for my Java programming module, finally took the exam on the afternoon of 11th October. All went essentially smoothly, the main hitch being that finding the venue (the DoubleTree by Hilton at Stadium MK) proved more difficult than I’d thought, as the stadium site appears to be still essentially a building site. After asking directions from at least three workmen, managed to arrive at the hotel and spent a reasonably pleasant three hours more or less answering all the questions, before heading into CMK to meet Ruth at Chiquito’s for a pre-arranged post-exam dinner. It’s some years since I’d been to a branch of Chiquito’s and although I had remembered them reasonably favourably, what I ordered was nicely presented but distinctly uninteresting, so may give them a miss in future. Additionally, we were more or less the only diners, so got the full brunt of some overly energetic service from a young waiter, whose routine appeared to involve running up to our table and skidding to a halt with a few dance moves, before launching into some enthusiastic patter. Plus, am probably being a grumpy old woman but object to being addressed as ‘guys’ by a 20-something.

Early the following day we made the circa 3-hour drive from Milton Keynes via the M40, M42, M5 and M50 to my parents’ house, where we enjoyed a relaxing couple of days. Went out on the Saturday for what was intended to be a walk from Ewyas Harold, a large village a few miles from my parents’ house, across Ewyas Harold Common to Abbey Dore with the intention of looking around the craft fair being held in Dore Abbey. In the event the common was extremely muddy and somewhat difficult to navigate, so that even my hardened father suggested giving up and just walking to Abbey Dore along the road. We had a quick breeze around the craft fair which was rather more upper crust than Mum had anticipated, made use of the portaloos before setting off back to Ewyas Harold where we had lunch in The Dog, a locals’ pub that, despite advertising itself as serving food, appeared surprised at us actually ordering some. Quite a few of the menus offerings appeared to be off so I think most of us ended up with ham sandwiches.

A high point of the weekend was Hannah producing the ancient pack of snap cards that we used to play with as children, which I had assumed were long lost. We had a few games of Snap, before being reminded that for adults the game has its limitations.

Drove back to Reading on the Sunday and collected the rabbits from Reading Rabbit Rescue, where the lovely Sandra told us that she thinks Lola’s a wee bit underweight. Hope our affectionate nickname for her of “Mrs Chunkybun” hasn’t set her on the path to anorexia.

A matter for rejoicing, killing of fatted calves, sacrificing of firstborn child etc is the fact that bedroom 3 has finally been ‘made good’ by Paul the Handyman, who has installed roof insulation and replaced the ceiling, filled in the holes in the floor where the two chimneys were so that the open shaft is now sealed off from curious rabbity view and generally made good the holes, empty bits with breezeblocks. Mark the plasterer has subsequently been to look at it, but we gather that plastering it could be an expensive job as really the old plaster should apparently come off, plus there’s a damp patch under the window that needs investigating first, plus Paul’s going to have to come back in and even off one of the walls (we did suspect that he’d skimped on this). Plastering is evidently an Ă©lite occupation which doesn’t include evening out the surface to be plastered. Sigh. I await the quote with some trepidation.

Perversely, since the room has been sealed, Harley has shown very little inclination to go into it. Evidently if there’s no danger of death, things hold little appeal.

Ruth and I made a planned visit to Kew Gardens on the 20th, though set out later than we intended and then realised too late that we’d chosen the most awkward day imaginable to go to Kew, as relevant portions of the Circle and District lines were both closed. I think the journey time in total, from home, took about 3 hours. The most direct way from Reading is to take the Waterloo line to Richmond and then walk to the gardens, but Ruth’s season ticket isn’t valid on the Waterloo route and, perhaps understandably, she’s keen to get the most out of the thousands of pounds of outlay. Saw a number of the charred wood sculptures that are part of the David Nash exhibition that runs until next April. Apparently Nash's main tools are fire and a chainsaw. Must have been a nightmare of a teenager if that was what he used for his A-level Art.

Also went for a second time up the Treetop Walkway, which I hadn’t planned on doing but Ruth was keen to go up. Really don’t see why it’s necessary for these things to wobble.

Had dinner at Bella Italia on our return to Reading, where we were served by the lovely Maria.

Amusing saga in the last few issues of the Milton Keynes Citizen following the replica concrete cows at Bancroft being re-surfaced with a skeleton paint job. The guy who did it, the son of the chap who made the replicas in the first place (though he has asked to be known only as ‘piewaste’) claims he did it in honour of his father and to save public art in MK. The MK Parks Trust initially condemned the new paint job as vandalism, before changing their tune when Liz Leyh, the artist responsible for the originals, piped up to say she quite likes the new look. It now looks as though they might stay as they are for a while. Another cute strand in the story is a miniature ‘skeleton cow’ that has been made as part of Mark Cain’s range of miniature concrete cows at www.mkcows.com.

Have finally joined the ranks of glasses-wearers, at least for reading. Have been in denial over the last year or so at increasingly having to hold small print away from me in order to read it, but have finally succumbed and collected my two pairs of specs from Boots Opticians yesterday. My brother and sister have both worn glasses from childhood so I suppose I should consider myself lucky to have escaped thus far. I struggled to find two of the Boots own range that I particularly liked, but that may just have been the unfamiliarity of seeing myself in glasses. My main pair are a dark-rimmed pair a bit a la Nana Mouskouri, though I’m not sure my image in the mirror quite resembles the “thinking (wo)man’s crumpet” look I was aiming for.

After doing a few bits in town on Saturday morning Ruth and I had an urge for a plain and simple toasted sandwich-style lunch and ended up in Platters on Cross Street, one of the few old-fashioned caffs left in Reading town centre. Not that either Ruth or I go to much effort to seek such places out, but we were in the mood for processed ham and cheese on white sliced, and in the modern world of mozzarella, sun-dried tomato bread etc such things can be hard to come by. To give Platters its due it was doing a roaring trade, but the three or four young staff weren’t coping well and the girl who took Ruth’s order evidently had a poor grasp of English, as she took the order for English Breakfast tea to mean an actual English Breakfast, with the result that on finishing our ham and cheese toasties we were presented with a full fry-up. I managed to explain and we got some money off what had previously seemed quite a steep £12 bill. They also committed the cardinal sin of serving people out of order, with the result that loud huffing noises and eventually a “There’s People Starving Here” emanated from the two elderly ladies behind us, who looked like traditional Platters customers. As we left, waiting staff were wandering up and down with unclaimed sandwiches, looking confused. We may give it a miss in future, but it evidently still draws in a faithful clientele – the kitchen just needs a Mutha Bacon-style overseer. Above is a picture of Platters from 192.com - I'm sure they won't mind.

Following our Platters experience, we were seized with a desire for traditional toasties made from a toasted sandwich maker and decided to impulse-buy our own. I've never owned one though Mum and Dad did have one at their house at one point, though it might have belonged to my sister. Although I enjoy the product I've always resisted buying one of my own, partly because they're hard to clean and partly because I tend to think I should restrict my intake of gooey melted cheese and plastic white bread. However, in spite of that, we've bought one. From Argos, so we didn't expend a lot of money. And I'm sure we won't use it that often.

20 September 2012

National Trust fervour; HESA; Spam fritters

Slightly disturbed by Ruth’s and my now having been to National Trust properties two weekends in a row. As I don’t actually visit them that often am worried this is a sign of encroaching dotage, not to mention the joke in an episode of Miranda about the National Trust offering life memberships. Our friend Helen is a member (and not an L), but has the excuse of needing to take her quite elderly parents on days out.

The Saturday before last we went over to Cliveden for the afternoon, as Ruth hadn’t been before and fancied going, and for some reason it had come up in conversation a week or so earlier, I think in connection with the Profumo affair. Mum and I visited in 1990 after what must, judging by the half-dozen or so photos I have of the visit, have been a particularly dry summer as the grass looks completely parched. I have a feeling I’ve been once since then, but evidently didn’t take photos. On this occasion, it was vibrantly green and in flower after all the rain earlier in the summer, and the stunning parterre was looking its best. Photos here.

We had lunch in the Orangery, where we snaffled the last two lunch offerings in the form of a couple of fairly indifferent sandwiches; nice surroundings though. Then walked across the parterre sans shoes – a testament to the state of the lawns, as I am squeamish about such things – and then down to the river bank and a bit of a turn about the gardens. The signposting isn’t the best – we managed to completely miss the sequoia section, which you might think would be hard to miss, and also failed to find the tortoise fountain. We did stumble upon the lovely Long Garden shortly before leaving, which was a plus. Amazing that the distinctly contemporary-looking pair of granite baboons there are actually 2500 years old. The baboons were only returned to Cliveden in 2010, having been moved somewhere else in the 1960s by the Astors (doesn’t say where).

The present house is the third house on the site, the previous two having both been destroyed by fire. Once could be an accident; twice starts to seem careless.

This Saturday we drove up to Basildon Park, an attractive 18th-century Palladian mansion just north-west of Pangbourne. We didn’t bother going into the house other than into the ground floor tearoom for a cream tea in lieu of lunch, but instead took one of the signposted walks around the parkland. The return route did involve a direct path through a herd of cows, all of which started making their way directly towards us down the footpath - I took a detour to avoid them but Ruth insisted on going right up to them, insisting that they were “only curious”. That’s as maybe.

Basildon was built in the late 18th century and then sold on a few times before lying empty, apart from wartime requisitioning, between 1910 and 1952, during which time it was evidently stripped of most of its interior. It was purchased and restored in the 1950s by Lord and Lady Iliffe. The gardens are apparently currently being re-awakened, "with new shrubberies". Cute.

Still on the topic of gardens, my parents have recently returned from a weekend in the Cotswolds that included a visit to Abbey House Gardens in Malmesbury, apparently home of The Naked Gardeners. Intriguing. Mum's postcard noted that the owners weren't disporting themselves at the time of their visit. Wonder what the take-up on their 'Clothes Optional' days is?

Now fully into HESA period at work, with the result that a couple of my evenings this week have involved logging in to HESA's data collection system and clicking 'Refresh' repeatedly, while also trying to get down to some revision for the imminent exam for my OU module. Managed to submit something, albeit incomplete, for TMA04 - had  considered skipping it and relying on substitution, before giving an "I Am Not a Quitter" speech to self. Looking at past papers, half of the exam is in fact multiple choice, though unfortunately not the Noddy kind of multiple choice where half the answers are completely laughable - it may actually require some thought.

Amused by the latest barrel-scraping offering in terms of takeaway outlets to appear through our door in Caversham. The catchily-named 'Wok and Chips' offers an amazing fusion of (presumably) traditional English fare alongside standard Chinese takeaway options. It's possible, should you wish it, to give your Won Ton Soup an added sophistication by teaming it with a Spam Fritter and, intriguingly, a Baked Bean, the latter at a seemingly quite steep 80p.

Incredibly, I do remember actually quite liking the Spam fritters that were occasionally on offer at my primary school dinner time. Probably just a reflection on the rest of the food, which I still remember as quite unreasonably disgusting. All very well people bleating on about how children need a hot meal in the middle of the day, but I remember the relief when I was finally allowed to take a packed lunch, thus escaping mincemeat cobbler in favour of ham sandwiches and a Club biscuit. Never looked back.