Rundown of June

Ruth and I attempted to have a video call on Skype in early June as prep for an interview she had coming up which was to be held via this medium. In addition to checking that there was e.g. no controversial literature on display directly behind where she planned on sitting, she also wanted to get an idea of where to look in order to appear to be looking at the interviewers, etc. Since beginning this whole fun-filled dual living thing, I have only had mobile rather than fixed line broadband, which is quite adequate for web-surfing and emailing but not so hot for video calling. The last exchange we appeared to have had on Skype was the following over a year ago, during which we seem to have actually managed a 16-minute call. We did at least manage to check the angle she was facing, even if the video did indulge in endless buffering and eventually gave up altogether.

Wolverton Park has been in the (at least, regional) news recently due to this incident earlier in June in which a man’s body was discovered in one of the flats in Trevithick Court (the block across from mine). The initial incident was in fact a fire in the flat at around 11.30 one evening, apparently attended by more than 30 firefighters – proving again what a heavy sleeper I am, as I had the bedroom window open and my bedroom looks out onto the area where the fire engines would have pulled up, and yet I heard nothing. The body was discovered by firefighters inside the flat but I believe I’ve read subsequently that it’s thought that the poor chap died prior to the fire. The first I knew of the incident was the following morning when I looked out towards the canal and saw a ‘Police – do not cross’ line guarded by an actual policeman. A section of the towpath was closed off for a day or so and it sounds as though the flat was completely gutted. Someone has evidently appeared in court – or rather via video link from prison – charged with arson with attempt to endanger life. Not heard anything about what’s happened subsequently, but the idea of the killer abseiling to safety, mentioned here, does seem rather far-fetched.

As far as I got by myself

I did get a knock on the door from the police a few evenings later, as part of their doing the rounds of both blocks, but was able to say conclusively that I Know Nothing. Very happy to have no further involvement with police or the justice system for a while. It’s already become something of a joke at work that I was burgled at my last flat and now there appears to have been a murder near current flat. Matt has cautioned me not to move to live near him any time soon lest I bring bad karma.

Finished product

Recently bought a Poäng chair and footstool from IKEA, which I am very pleased with. Actually made some headway with putting it together myself, though required Ruth’s assistance to finish the job. V. pleasant for evening reclining.

We had our first ever weekend visit from Ruth’s mother on Friday 12th. Mrs M had driven from Norfolk to her sister’s house in Lambourn earlier in the day, and had got the train to Reading from Hungerford, arriving full of the news that the last time she’d made that train journey was around 1970. Gosh. She and Ruth went off to London on the Saturday as Ruth had got them tickets for Trooping the Colour; they arrived back late afternoon seeming to have enjoyed it, plus a browse around King’s Road. And apparently they sat only a few rows back from Phil Spencer, the back of whose head did feature in some of Ruth’s video footage of the occasion.

Aldbrickham Clog Dancers

I amused myself by popping into town to do some shopping, and on the way back meandering along the Holy Brook and through Forbury Gardens to check out Reading Water Fest. Lots of boats and stalls selling tea towels etc. The crowds in Forbury Gardens were entertained by the Aldbrickham Clog and Step Dancers, who are apparently celebrating 50 Years of Clogging in Reading this year. Their sole male dancer was a chap of reasonably advanced years, so hopefully they’ve got some younger men coming up through the ranks. Here’s some actual footage of them (and their piper) filmed on the day. Gail and Rob joined us for lunch on the Sunday and I blitzed them with yet more quiche, and Ruth baked a crumble.

I managed to persuade Ruth up for a visit to MK for the weekend of 20/21 (the recent murder – see above – having only added fuel to her argument that it’s no fit place to live). On the Friday evening we went into Stony Stratford (as a far more enticing option for drinks and dinner than Wolverton) and had a drink at the Vaults before trying out the restaurant of The Bull next door (pleasant enough pub but food a bit disappointing). Not sure whether I believe Stony’s story about the two former coaching inns on its high street having been the origin of the phrase ‘cock and bull story’. On the Sunday we took a walk along the disused railway line as far as the canal at Great Linford, where we turned off for a drink at The Black Horse before walking along the towpath back to Wolverton.

Mum gamely came up for a visit the following weekend – I say ‘gamely’ as it seemed to involve a circa 4-hour train journey; for travelling east-west Milton Keynes might as well be in bloody Lincolnshire. After giving her lunch I drove us out north of Milton Keynes via Haversham and Hanslope to Salcey Forest, as I’d seen something a while ago to suggest there was a sculpture trail there. In the event we didn’t come across the trail or indeed any reference to it on the signage, though we did have a pleasant walk in the woods once we were away from the central car park/playground/ice cream area. We did indulge in an ice cream ourselves at the end of our walk.

Mum on forest seat

Have since tried to find out more about Salcey Forest but without much success. Mum was interested in the bit in the centre of the map labeled ‘Salcey Lawn’ and marked as private. I’ve gathered that Salcey Lawn is a house, as I found this entry on British Listed Buildings, but no picture – indeed have drawn a blank on trying to Google any images of it. It must be a shy, elusive type of house. I did find this picture labelled “House at the start of the drive to Salcey Lawn’, but that was as close as I got.

The British Listed Buildings text notes that Salcey Lawn was “formerly the seat of a younger branch of the Fitzroy family”. I gather FitzRoy is the family name of the Dukes of Grafton, so assume it’s the same family, though could find nothing about which bit of them lived at Salcey Lawn or when/if they left. (Relevant to nothing, but how young is the current Duke of Grafton? It’s obscene. I realize dukedoms are inherited, not striven for, but really.)

Apparently Salcey Forest once had its own railway station, though it sounds as though it was one of the shortest-lived stations ever; I quote: “The station was not situated near any settlement and only saw passenger services for four months, it being most likely an error of judgement by the railway company”.

In the evening we dined at the Calcutta Brasserie, the most upmarket-looking of Stony Stratford’s circa half a dozen Indian restaurants. The Calcutta is housed in a converted chapel, so I had been curious to go there partly on that account; also I did have a takeaway chicken dish from there while staying at the Old Stratford Travelodge last year and thought it pretty nice. In the event Mum and I both thought the food was very good and it’s certainly an interesting setting for a restaurant. Mum did a bit of cunning Googling and discovered that the building (of which the restaurant occupies only part, the bit that looks like a chapel) appears to have been originally built as a school and later occupied by the Fegan's Home for Boys.

Mum on platform

Stylish white fence. And mat.

On the Sunday we went out for a walk – despite the rain – along the same route that Ruth and I had walked the previous weekend, this time going a little further as far as the platform of the former Great Linford station. The last train ran through in 1967 and it evidently then fell into general disarray - there are some interesting photographs here. Today, the platform area is amazingly well kept with a neat flowerbed and everything. We went for lunch at The Black Horse and then did the canal walk back to Wolverton Park.

The garden at the house has been looking jolly pretty lately. Ruth’s painting of our side of the fence along the side return has helped with the trendy urban air we’re going for. Also, the grasses behind the water feature have become amazingly swishy.

Good Samaritanry; Last Supper; health efforts

Two instances of police involvement the week before last, the second unplanned. Phoned the non-emergency 101 number to report criminal damage to one of the entry doors to my block in Wolverton Park – I suspect some of the other residents had also reported it but there seems to be a feeling that the more people who report these things, the better. Hoping it gets fixed soon but it was still detached when I left MK on Friday morning. There seems to be considerable frustration on the Wolverton Park Noticeboard with the block management company RMG, who appear to be claiming that even basic security maintenance is going to mean doubling the flat owners’ service charge. Much animated discussion over the last week re whether one of the residents should go ahead with an interview with the MK Citizen that he has provisionally arranged, with some residents concerned about impact on their property prices if the development’s issues get publicized.

The second instance was the following day when, arriving at the Langland School bus stop on the V8 to catch the bus back to Wolverton after work, I encountered a young man approaching the stop from the other direction, who then lurched and grabbed the end of the bus stop and started calling me towards him. Stopped where I was out of self-preservation and asked him what had happened, keeping a safe distance. Got the response that he’d just been seriously assaulted and could I call an ambulance. Although he didn’t look very seriously injured to me, I didn’t like to argue the point so phoned 999 – first time I’ve done so. I will say that the phone gets answered very quickly. When asked what service I required, I suddenly realized that I wasn’t sure which service one requests for attacks that have supposedly just happened, so not liking to dither I asked for the police, though with hindsight I suspect the chap involved would have preferred that I’d just asked for an ambulance. In the event the police operator I spoke to said they’d send an ambulance as well. Another woman appeared while I was on the phone to the emergency services and tried to get more detail out of the chap, though he was pretty uncooperative all round. The ambulance did eventually turn up, though took longer than I expected given that the local A&E was pretty much just around the corner from the bus stop.

When the ambulance crew had carted off the chap, the other woman told me that she’d tried asking him a number of questions including whether his attackers had been black or white, which he claimed not to be able to answer. All a bit suspicious, we thought. As I’d given my details to the police over the phone, they duly phoned later that evening and took details of what I’d seen, and then phoned again the following morning asking if they could take a formal statement. Seemed overkill given that I hadn’t actually witnessed the assault, but I agreed, thinking I should do my bit. Luckily the PC agreed to come to campus so I spent an hour and a half in a meeting room reiterating what I’d said the previous night, while she scribbled pages of A4. Didn’t sound to me as though it’s going to go anywhere given that the chap was apparently refusing to give the police any details of his alleged attackers – when I expressed surprise at this, the PC advised that it often depends on what they were doing at the time they were assaulted. You live and learn.

Went down to Abergavenny on Friday 13th to spend a couple of nights with Mum while Dad was away in Ireland with his MSc students. On the Saturday we drove to Crickhowell and went for a walk up the oddly-named Pregge Lane and on up towards the Table Mountain (or Crug Hywel, if you will). We cut the walk shorter than planned, in part through confusion over which path to take, and retraced our steps back down to the town to seek lunch. On the way down we met a woman walking two small dogs – one a tiny seven-month-old dachshund – who asked us if we’d seen a lost Bichon Frisé that had apparently been spooked by another dog and run off. The owner of the BF could be heard calling for it the other side of the valley. We didn’t see it so hoped it had made its way home. We had a nice lunch at Number Eighteen on the High Street. In the evening we watched the Hammer film Taste of Fear, which I hadn't seen before. Quite good actually.

Began last week with breakfast at Julia’s Meadow with Ray, who has been trying to adopt a healthier diet and has apparently lost five pounds in the past two weeks. Bloody typical – I’ve lost a pound and a half in the past three. Was hoping for something far more dramatic at this Monday’s weigh-in but no, no change. I should no doubt perceive it as some sort of test of my perseverance rather than assuming that I must have some as yet undiagnosed glandular problem which means I’ll never shift weight again.

Matt organized an Information Office ‘Last Supper’ last week at which, strangely enough, there were actually 12 of us. We dined at the Akasaka in Wolverton, a little Japanese restaurant that looks to be one of Wolverton’s very few eateries that aren’t just takeaway joints. Menu full of lovely-looking raw fishy stuff, as well as tofu, beef teriyaki etc. Will go back. Before the dinner some of us had a drink in The North Western on Stratford Road - not somewhere I'd rush back to; have to say none of Wolverton's pubs looks exactly enticing.

Friday morning’s eclipse drew quite a crowd of OU staff out onto the sports pitch. Those who got there early managed to snaffle a limited supply of special eclipse glasses; I wasn’t among them but Harvey, John and Claire, who’d got there early out of our lot, generously passed theirs around. They certainly made a big difference to viewing it. Matt did try and construct a pinhole camera out of a £20 note and a receipt from his local; the pic is of him and Galina trying it out but I don’t think it worked too well. Here are instructions for how to do it properly. John did take some photos through his eclipse glasses, as per the one on the right.

Failed to persuade Ruth to accompany me out for a wallk on Saturday so struck out on my own to explore some new routes locally. Took the bus to Sonning Common and got off on Wood Lane, then walked down Kidmore Lane to Kidmore End, which is quite posh-looking and has a duck pond and a church with a bizarrely-trimmed tree/bush-thing (poss yew?) in front of it. Walked through the churchyard to come out on Tokers Green Lane and then turned right into the narrow Mill Lane. Passed one house on Mill Lane that caught my attention because of the blaring music playing; glancing through the hedge there was a man lolling in a sunken hot tub on the patio. Looks from a quick Google search as though the house, The Copse, is available for rental. The home page describes it as a “luxury cottage”, though the 'cottage' part seems a slightly odd description of a property that sleeps 14 and includes its own cinema. The per night price range is given as between £800 and £1750, so I don’t think I’ll be staying there any time soon.

Crossed the A4074 near The Packhorse and continued down Sheepways Lane, turning left at Lilley Farm onto Pond Lane, and then cross-country via the path across Caversham Heath golf course back into Caversham. Just over six miles in total.

Another day in London yesterday, this time at an NSS Stakeholder Workshop led by Sami from Ipsos MORI. Actually the workshop was only for the morning, so like anyone would I booked the afternoon as leave, originally thinking I should make the most of the train ticket and do something cultural, though I didn’t in the end. The workshop was held at an obscurely-placed venue on the Edgware Road, so armed with MapMyWalk I strode out healthily westwards from Euston, visiting the Marylebone branch of Carluccio’s en route. After the workshop, fitted in another 3 miles or so walking back to Euston via Regent’s Park.

While waiting for my supply of toasted posh breads to arrive, I pondered the renaming that seems to have been going on on Carluccio's breakfast menu (doubtless as a way to delay looking at my notes for the workshop). Their full English – formerly named the ‘Colazione’ – appears to have been renamed the Carluccio’s Breakfast. Conversely, as though suddenly worried they might be dumbing down, their former ‘Breakfast Bread Tin’ – served, rather appealingly, in a tin – is now called the ‘Pane con Marmellata di Fichi’, and comes on a board. (Digressing, Ruth has moaned at tendency of gastro-type pubs to serve food on boards, pieces of slate etc, as though the establishment is so posh it has gone full circle and reverted to a time before plates.)

Picked up lunch from a branch of itsu on Baker Street - had an itsu tuna & salmon from their sushi menu, with a quite nice green tea-flavoured water drink. Have some way to go though before I become one of those trying people who exist on fish and vegetables (my fondness for pasta and toast should keep that at bay).

While approaching Euston on my return walk, I was struck by this imposing dilapidated building on the corner of Hampstead Road and Cardington Street. Looks from a Google search as though it’s the former London Temperance Hospital, now standing derelict. Seems amazing it hasn’t been converted into luxury apartments, though the area that side of Euston is still a bit down at heel, which seems amazing really. The Wikipedia entry seems to suggest that the building may be demolished to make way for HS2.

Have been doing YouGov surveys for a while, mainly in the hope of winning one of their prize draws. Usually they confine themselves to asking fairly low-level questions on a variety of topics: whether you use Costa Coffee machines, whether you'd be embarrassed to work for Crosse & Blackwell, how many hours a week you spend idly watching telly, etc. However, worked through one this morning that took a turn towards more serious questioning, with the following:

Tentatively selected 'None', and was then faced with a follow up question along the lines of "What do you consider would be the most likely cause of such a disaster?", to which one of the response options was 'Zombies'. I forget the others. Not sure if this was an early April Fool or whether opinion polling is genuinely going a bit weird.

Miscellaneous burblings

Wolverton Park

Moved into flat at Wolverton Park on 6 February, re-using the efficient services of Bruce Wilkinson Despatch, who tactfully didn’t allude to having transported my possessions from Milton Keynes just over a year ago. Ruth hitched a lift up with the chaps and stayed over until the Sunday to help me get the place in order. It seems a nice spot so far, though there would appear to be a few snagging issues with the maintenance of the blocks along with an issue with lurking local youngsters making a nuisance of themselves. The Wolverton Park Noticeboard on Facebook appears a useful source of knowledge re what’s going on on the site.

Spent my final week in Travelodges at the MK Central hotel, where there was a brief flurry of snow on the Monday evening.

Xscape, Milton Keynes

Had a fun evening on 11 Feb joining several colleagues from both my office and the Strategy Office, with whom we are to be as one, for bowling at the Hollywood Bowl at Xscape. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to bowling as the last time I did it, some while ago, I was resoundingly crap. Went along essentially to be sociable and also because I hadn’t been to Xscape before. It’s an absurd structure that looks a bit like a giant top-heavy woodlouse and apparently houses a ski slope with actual snow. In fact according to their blurb, it houses the country’s biggest indoor REAL snow slopes. Photo from http://myhotelbookings.co.uk/listings/xscape-milton-keynes/.

Surprisingly, didn’t perform badly at all, perhaps because I was so keen to get the actual bowling over with, I just quickly chucked the ball down the lane as hard as I could. John from the Strategy Office won our lane, but Sara and I were a close-fought second and third, I think both surprising ourselves. John took this photo of the scoreboard, showing – if you squint a bit – my not-too-embarrassing-at-all score of 102.

After the bowling, several of the Strategy lot decided to go for food at Wagamama, and Matt, Guy and I went along with them, though Matt, a vegetarian, had a clash with the menu and accidentally ended up with a huge slab of fish. I had the yaki udon, which I think may be all I’ve ever had at Wagamama, but then it is delicious.

Ruth and I marked Friday 13th by going into town for a bite to eat at Tampopo – crowded, as was everywhere along the riverside; I suppose it’s good that it’s doing well. Image nicked from TripAdvisor. After that we made our way to the Global Café to join Claire and assorted friends to mark her birthday. The idea was to hear the Oubliettes, who were performing – unfortunately, there were two support acts on before them, the first of which (Decoda) was so loud that several of our party left claiming they couldn’t hear themselves think; the second was better but by the time they finished and the Oubliettes were warming up, it was 11.30pm and I was only half an hour off turning into a pumpkin. Ruth and I made our farewells and took a cab home. Perhaps I can catch a clip of the Oubliettes on YouTube.

We then spent a quiet weekend to recover from the trauma of going out. We did get around to watching August: Osage County, which Ruth had had from LoveFilm for the past month but hadn’t thus far been in the mood to watch. Pretty dark stuff – well acted though we did feel Meryl Streep chews the scenery a bit. Julia Roberts is excellent. Both were apparently Oscar-nominated, for Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress respectively.

Other movies watched recently have included the Disney movie Brave, which I had recently shoved on to my LoveFilm list along with Frozen (the latter just because I’m curious to find out what all the fuss is about). I’d not heard of Brave but Victoria mentioned recently that it’s one of her and her daughter Orla’s favourite films. Orla is six, so not sure why I thought I’d necessarily enjoy it, but I thought I’d give it a go. It’s pretty good. Story thus: Merida, princess of some Highland clan or other, gets narked at her mother’s attempts to find her a husband. An attempt to get her mother off her back goes badly wrong when she foolishly consults a witch for something that will make her mother ‘different’, resulting in Mum being turned into a bear. (Ruth and I digressed at this point to muse on whether there have actually ever been bears in Scotland. Must check that out.) The remainder of the movie features Merida frantically trying to find a way to get the spell reversed before her mother is faced to stay that way forever. It’s quite sweet and Merida has splendid red hair and is a whiz with a bow and arrow.

Walking through Trafalgar Square early on 19 February en route to another HESA seminar – this time on the KIS return – I was saddened to see that the blue cock has gone from the Fourth Plinth. It was undoubtedly the jolliest thing I’ve seen there and a wonderful shade of blue. Took the train from and back to Wolverton. Living right next to a station is a fine thing. As is not having to stock up on M&S sandwiches and/or fast food before returning ‘home’ to a hotel room. Luxury hotels where someone else is paying and there’s room service would be a different thing, obviously.

Had a day and night in London with Mum on 21 February, staying over in the Premier Inn London Southwark Tate Modern (where Ruth and I stayed for my birthday last year) as a belated 70th birthday present to her. We met at Paddington and took two buses over to Stamford Street and walked the short distance to the PI, where we left bags and set out to follow part of a ‘Cultural Walk’ I had found on the internet, heading east from the PI past Tate Modern. Digressing briefly, I hadn’t realized that Bankside Power Station as was was so comparatively recently built; according to this it was commissioned in 1947 and started generating electricity in 1952. There's a picture here of it under construction. Apparently it replaced a Victorian power station on the same site; this article has a picture. I remember walking past Bankside with Ray sometime in the 1990s and being quite intimidated by its then semi-derelict looming presence. Bankside Power Station closed in 1981, so stood empty for nearly 20 years before being reborn in 2000. To my mind, the gallery alone would stand as a fine Millennium project for the country – and the Millennium Bridge is quite fun now it’s actually open. The Dome project should, of course, have been abandoned in its infancy.

We walked eastwards along Bankside and passed the remains of Winchester Palace, apparently the London home of the Bishops of Winchester until the 17th century. The blurb I downloaded off the internet noted that the Bish licensed the area’s brothels in the 12th century. How public-spirited.

We passed Southwark Cathedral, though didn’t go in because we were looking for lunch by that time. Amazing to think that the incarnation of London Bridge that stood from the 12th to the 19th centuries had houses, shops and a church on it.

We had lunch at Jamie’s on London Bridge Street, at the foot of the Shard, then continued down Borough High Street where we had a quick look at The George Inn, apparently London’s only surviving galleried coaching inn, and then crossed the road to look at Cross Bones Graveyard – or what you can see of it through the fencing. Apparently it’s now become a shrine to the poor of London. The gates along one side are crammed with ribbons, photos, notes and other mementoes. There seems to be a campaign afoot to protect the gates and to establish a memorial garden.We walked past St George the Martyr Southwark, aka Little Dorrit’s Church, apparently, bringing to mind the Dickens novel on my A-level English syllabus that I completely failed to read, and then after a bit of faffing about in side streets arrived at Guy’s Hospital. We visited the Old Operating Theatre Museum, located opposite Guy's in the roof space of the former St Thomas Church. Very interesting; the museum displays included some scary gynaecological instruments and a little 'bedside font', presumably for administering the last rites.

We had a nice dinner at The Real Greek on the Saturday evening, and Sunday breakfast at the Albion, before taking a walk along the South Bank in the other direction, crossing the river and returning via a circuit of St Paul's churchyard and across the footbridge. Paid an extremely brief visit to Tate Modern, pretty much just to use the toilet, then collected our bags and I dragged us on an unrewarding walk to find a bus stop that would take us back to Paddington. Did eventually make it back, after I'd been forced to test whether contactless payment with a bank card really does work on London buses (it does).

St Mary's, Haversham, with snowdrops

Spent the weekend of 28 and 29 Feb in MK, as Ruth had to work through the weekend and I had to finish an assignment for the OU maths module I started last year and have recently picked up again. I had planned to sand my bike’s brake blocks (advised by Ray in order to get rid of current screeching noise) and take it out for a ride; in the end I did do the sanding, but failed to actually ride it anywhere. I did, however, take myself out for a walk on the Saturday to explore some of the surrounding countryside. Started by heading north out of Wolverton through the village of Haversham, which seems to be in two bits, with an older bit surrounding the church and the Greyhound pub. After a brief detour down to the church, trekked on out of the old village and turned right down Mill Road, hoping I could get down to the canal and back into New Bradwell. Mill Road is a very small road and in a moment of doubting that it was open to the public, I turned left onto a footpath heading across fields. As I crossed what seemed like a third field and the footpath signs ran out, my phone decided to pack in (seemingly the known Black Screen phenomenon) and I was left standing in the field ineffectually tapping at it. Was forced to retrace my steps to Mill Road and carry on down it the way I’d intended to go originally. Luckily, being over 40, I hadn’t relied totally on the GPS and had also brought two maps with me, so was able (eventually) to work out where I was. Returned south(ish) past the lakes, stopping to look at the ruins of St Peter’s Church. It had protective fencing round it on the day I visited, but there are photos here and here. Poor little place. There does appear to be a campaign to preserve it. Seemingly, there is also a local werewolf legend associated with it.

Walked on past St Peter’s and followed the canal back down to New Bradwell, and then trudged along Newport Road back to Wolverton. This snippet from the MapMyWalk route tracker shows the point at which the GPS cut out. Plotted the rest of the walk manually when I got in. 5.7 miles according to MMW.

Prior to the weekend, had posted a plea on the OU noticeboard for a sheet of sandpaper to tackle the bike with, as I didn't want to buy a full pack. The OU being full of lovely people, I received loads of offers of sandpaper, including several sheets in the internal mail. Now have more than I'll ever need.

Continuing with increased walking, motivated by MapMyWalk. Very pleasant walking in the early morning now that it's becoming more spring-like. According to this notice in Campbell Park, the sheep have been re-released into the grazing area, which I assume means spring. Also in the park, took this dead artistic photo the other day of some snowdrops.

Dead artistic photo

Attended a lunchtime seminar the week before last entitled ‘Beyond Gay: Sexuality Research and Being ‘Out’ at The Open University. Was mildly curious about the content as I wouldn’t have thought that the OU was a particularly difficult place to be ‘out’. The content turned out to be substantially focused on bisexuality, as the OU turns out to be something of a hotspot for research on this topic – the three academics on the panel had evidently all been involved in authoring The Bisexuality Report. One of them, one Meg John Barker, has written an interesting-sounding book on relationships called Rewriting the Rules and has an associated blog of the same name, though this does include an alarming list of instructions on how she likes to be addressed and referred to. The panel also included Rebecca Jones of the OU’s Faculty of Health and Social Care – also a blogger - who seems to have done some interesting work on various aspects of ageing and later life.

Day in London with Ruth last Saturday as she had been wanting for a while to see Di and Viv and Rose, which I think started out at Hampstead Theatre but has now moved to the Vaudeville on the Strand. The play was enjoyable viewing on the whole, though there was a sense of the loud aggro in the last part of the play not really having had sufficient buildup not to seem all a bit randomly histrionic. Also - understandably, given that they're all in their 40s - none of the three actresses - Tamzin Outhwaite, Samantha Spiro and Jenna Russell - made a very convincing teenage university student, particularly not Spiro, though her character's 1940s outfits didn't help. It also probably didn't help that Ruth and I were sitting in the front row almost on top of them and their every minor wrinkle, though that did at least mean a decent amount of leg room. There's a Guardian review of the play here.

Before the play, we had arrived in London around midday and gone to visit the Hunterian Museum at the Royal College of Surgeons, which Dave visited recently and which I had been wanting to visit for a while. The museum is a fantastic little place and doesn't charge for entry. It houses an amazing collection of exhibits of body parts from a variety of birds, fish, humans and assorted other animals. As Ruth noted, the specimens are so old that they've all taken on rather a uniform colour which doesn't help with identifying them, but luckily they're labelled in meticulous detail, e.g. "A sexually immature female house sparrow dissected to expore the genito-urinary system".

Popped into the Kimchee Restaurant afterwards where I had a light lunch of the Tofu Kimchee off the starter menu (delicious). Then had a go at getting over to the King's Road by bus, as Ruth fancied the idea, but were stymied by seeming bus chaos due to a) a large demonstration taking place in central London - they'd been mustering in Lincoln's Inn Fields as we came out of the museum; b) lots of roadworks. Ended up filling a couple of hours wandering around the Covent Garden area before having an early pre-theatre dinner at Bella Italia.

As of 1 March, am now relieved of my acting role as Senior Manager (Returns), due in no small part to my having declined to continue with it - I was asked if I'd extend the acting contract until the end of April but was concerned re vaguely open-ended feeling to the whole thing. Am quite relieved in both senses, and am now trying to remember what it is I do when I'm not responsible for four other people's work as well.

MK meanderings; farewell to Barbara; new flat

Finding myself with a free day in MK a few weeks ago, finally ventured into Buddies Diner, next to the Old Stratford Travelodge, for a late second breakfast (as ranted about previously, they don’t actually open at breakfast time). Their coffee is of the jug on a hot plate variety and arrived in an over-large cup with a free refill. I ordered pancakes and bacon, which were perfectly nice but was coerced into ordering a seemingly obligatory potato product in addition, so ended up with a pile of entirely unwanted hash browns on the plate. Who can actually eat that much? I did see two women sitting near me being served with a vast breakfast each though, plus a plate of hash browns on the side, so perhaps some people can.

After leaving Buddies, took a head-clearing walk from the Travelodge through Stony Stratford Nature Reserve and past Wolverton Mill. Encountered the Iron Trunk Aqueduct, and bravely scurried through the narrow and claustrophobic tunnel under the canal (referred to in this blog post) to join the canal towpath, which I then followed into Wolverton and then back to Stony along Stratford Road. This last section was a bit of a slog, one of those where you realize you’ve actually had enough of walking, but have no other way of returning to the point you started from. Doubtless good exercise though. I saw a heron early on in the walk, and asked its opinion on my housing crisis, but it didn’t volunteer much.

Last Friday was Barbara’s funeral service at St Mark’s Crescent Methodist Church in Maidenhead. Barbara wasn’t a regular attender at church services but had apparently visited the church quite often as some of the groups she was involved in met there. Arrived early and met Barbara’s friend Doreen in the car park, whom I’d met briefly some years ago when Mum, Ray and I met up with her and Barbara at the Courtyard Theatre in Hereford while they were attending the Three Choirs Festival. The service was nice and Ray gave a lovely tribute to Barbara. The second hymn, For the Beauty of the Earth, was slightly embarrassing as hardly anyone seemed to know it – I have a vague memory of having heard it before but it isn’t a very memorable tune.

After the service, we had to make our way across town to the committal at Braywick Cemetery, where Barbara's parents, as well as both Ray's sets of grandparents, are buried. Thankfully, as it saved me the drive, Ray gave me and his cousin Michael a lift; lane closures in Maidenhead town centre resulted in us cutting in in front of the hearse, which led Ray to contemplate whether he’d shown sacrilegious disrespect. The committal was a mercifully brief ceremony as it was becoming dank and cold by that time. Afterwards we made our way back to the Clarks’ house in Lancaster Road for food and drink. Although I had been determined to attend the funeral to pay my respects to Barbara, I’d been somewhat apprehensive at meeting Ray’s family again as, apart from Barbara, I hadn’t seen any of them for around seven years, though I had sent Ray Sr and Carol a long-overdue New Year note following Barbara’s death. As it happened they were all lovely and I ended up staying at the house and chatting for around three hours.
Caroline's daughter Kirsty was playing Minecraft during the get-together at the house, which led to a bit of discussion. Have just watched a beginners' tutorial on YouTube, but can't say I'm really tempted. Seems to be quite a bit of work involved, what with having to gather wood to build yourself shelter, etc.

An inch or so of snow on Monday night - it had pretty much all melted by midday on Tuesday though.

Big news is that I have, for better or worse, taken out another tenancy in MK. After going backwards and forwards as to the pros and cons, and viewing various flats which for one reason and another I didn’t take, and missing out on several I phoned about because apparently there’s such a rush on rental properties at the moment, managed to get to be first in the queue on a two-bed with a balcony in the Wolverton Park development next to Wolverton railway station. I don’t need two bedrooms, but one-beds appeared to be at a premium and Ruth and I had agreed that we could just about cope with upping the amount we were willing to pay just a bit. I had seen and liked the look of the development when walking the canal path with Ray in March 2012. Wolverton is MK’s northernmost suburb and definitively out of walking distance of the OU, but that matters less now I’m more familiar with the town; am intending to continue with the bus/walk combo.

Checked into the flat yesterday so am now in possession of the keys, though don’t actually move in until Friday, when Ruth has efficiently sorted man with van to carry the stuff I’m bringing. Feels slightly farcical to be carting stuff back up here when I carted it all back home to Reading a year ago, but am determinedly not pondering that.