Mop up of 2014

To close 2014, some potted snippets, chiefly from the blog-free period from August to the end of November. And a brief update on burglary closure.

Resolution of burglary case

Receiving the news of Barbara’s death on 4 January reminded me that this date was also an unhappy one in 2014, when I discovered the burglary at my flat at Old Groveway. To close the loop on that story, now that I am not in danger of prejudicing a trial:

I received the news some months back that Fraser, my former neighbour at 10 Old Groveway, had pleaded guilty to involvement in the burglary in December 2013, rendering a trial unnecessary. Within five minutes of discovering the break-in, I suspected some involvement on Fraser’s part, because as the window and door locks were all intact, the steep drop over the back of the patio rendered the low-ish wall over to Fraser’s patio the only viable escape route. At the time of the incident, the police would only tell me that my possessions had been found “at an address in Milton Keynes”, but I later learned that this “address” was in fact the house next door to mine.

Fraser apparently admitted to police later the same evening, while being cautioned for some sort of affray in the town centre – nothing like keeping a low profile after committing crime 1 – that there was a wad of stolen property at his home. An acquaintance of his was also questioned re the offence, and I gathered that police thought said acquaintance was the ‘brains’ behind it, while Fraser’s role was chiefly to allow access to my property via his. However, acquaintance had evidently taken legal advice and said “no comment” to everything he was asked, and unfortunately no fingerprints other than mine were found inside (obviously not his first burglary), so there was insufficient evidence to charge him. I got the impression the CID chaps were annoyed about not being able to nail first chap, and felt that Fraser was something of a victim himself and hadn’t the wit not to allow all manner of lowlifes access to his home (probably true - certainly, the whole time I lived there there appeared a constant stream of visitors, such that I was never sure who other than Fraser might actually live there).

As regards my other neighbours at Old Groveway: Christina, from number 12, evidently never any fan of Fraser, was visibly spitting feathers in the direction of no 10; Tony and Susannah, from number 11, had evidently befriended him and alternated feeding each others’ pets, and were visibly shocked at what they regarded as something of a betrayal – indeed, I almost had to prise a weeping and hugging Susannah off me in the car park shortly before I moved out and assure her that it actually wasn’t her fault and that I didn’t hold it against her.

I had to return to the police station several weeks after the incident to provide an “emotional impact statement”, which is apparently given to the judge to provide more supporting ballast. These statements are evidently the police’s opportunity to balance sticking to the facts with a bit of artistic licence – my volunteering that after the burglary I didn’t feel safe staying at the flat provoked the following:

POLICE: “So, would you say you can never trust anyone again?”
ME: “Erm, well no, I don’t quite mean that exactly ...”
POLICE: “Well, we’ll put that anyway.”

TVP sent me a form to fill in to submit a claim for compensation, which I did, but haven’t received anything. Don’t feel I can complain too much as the police did warn me it wasn’t guaranteed; also, given that I did get the majority of my stuff back and had a reasonable payout from my contents insurer, I consider myself pretty lucky.

'Acting up'

Shortly after my contract was made permanent back in June, received the news that my line manager Judith would be stepping into Nick’s shoes as Director of Information Office following his retirement at the end of August. Judith’s stepping up was intended to be on an ‘acting’ basis until a replacement was found, as a recruitment round earlier in 2014 had failed to find a suitable candidate.  As a result of this, found myself being asked if I would head up the Returns team, similarly on an acting basis, to cover for Judith. Partly flattered at being thought capable of managing the team and leading on the October HESA return; partly wary at having to take on the management of four other analysts, two of whom were at the time still in probation. The latter has been a bit of a trial, though the colleagues concerned are all perfectly nice, and I can’t say that staff management is something I’m particularly enamoured of, though I suppose many others also end up doing it because it’s inflicted on them. Judith has, in fairness, been very supportive, though am still plagued by a feeling of lurching from one responsibility to another without actually having sufficient time to engage in depth with any individual piece of work. If this is management I’m not fully convinced as yet.

Shortly before Christmas we were told that the Information Office is scheduled to be shifted from its current position as a standalone unit reporting in to the University Secretary, to be merged with the Strategy Office and report in to the Director of Strategy. More on that in due course. As at time of writing, both Judith and I are still doing our ‘acting’ roles, and are scheduled to continue with them until the end of February (extended from the original November deadline stated in the letter). After that, who knows. The amount of extra money I'm getting is fairly minimal, though I was awarded a 'discretionary increment' at the end of October - for general good behaviour, I think - which takes me another point up the OU's salary scale.

Occasions 

My birthday

Decided to indulge myself with an overnight stay in London for my birthday back in August, so booked a room at the Premier Inn London Southwark (Tate Modern) for the evening of Sunday 17 August (prudently, booked for the Sunday as it’s cheaper). We began by going over to Old Street where I had a slightly strange toasted tortilla at Crazy Salads, then paid a brief visit to nearby SCP, to look at nice expensive things for the home (Ruth subsequently bought a Bitossi bull, and lugged it home on the tube, where it now occupies a slot in my Expedit unit), before heading over to the Barbican. Since the tour of the Barbican I went on with Ray in 2009 I’d been wanting to visit the conservatory, but because of its very restrictive opening hours – it’s only open to the public on Sunday afternoons – I’d never managed to get there. We went in and spent some time wandering about, though I was disappointed that the famed quail have been rehomed and are no longer there.

We caught a late-afternoon film at what I think of as the National Film Theatre but is now called ‘BFI Southbank’. The film we saw was the 1998 Swedish movie Show Me Love, originally released under the ‘catchy’ title of Fucking Åmål (as the original title appeared in brackets after the English title, I initially thought that it was the name of the director and thought, fancy having that for a first name). However. It was apparently the first feature from director Lukas Moodysson. The film was very good, especially the startlingly beautiful Rebecka Liljeberg as Agnes (even more sexily, according to Wikipedia Liljeberg has now retired from acting and works as a paediatrician). This review from Sight and Sound is a good one. After the film we had a pizza dinner at Gourmet Pizza.

The following morning we breakfasted on delicious bacon, eggs and sourdough bread at the lovely, albeit pricey, Albion behind Tate Modern, part of the NEO Bankside development. We then made our way to the National Portrait Gallery and Ruth went to the Virginia Woolf exhibition, while I bowed out in the interests of walking to Chinatown instead and buying some kimchi. Afterwards we had outrageously expensive tea and cake at Sapore Italiano on Irving Street, only bought because we couldn’t get in to the NPG’s ridiculously too small basement café.

Parents' Golden Wedding

The August Bank Holiday weekend was spent at Mum and Dad’s as they had organized a party on the Sunday to celebrate 50 years of marriage. Luckily the weather held and we were able to spend most of the time in the garden. Hazel and Hannah took a number of lovely photos of the day, though I also like this shot I took myself the previous day of Steve, Dave and Dad attempting to erect a gazebo, observed by Nia, who was keen to be involved. Embarrassingly, greeted my godfather Brian Williams’ partner Liz with “I don’t think we’ve met before”, to have her assure me that we had, at Mum and Dad’s ruby wedding party ten years earlier. And quite possibly, on other occasions too. More embarrassingly, Dave later told me that he’d greeted her with much the same words. It’s enough to give the poor woman a complex.

Helen’s wedding

Judith kindly allowed me a day off in HESA week to go to my university friend Helen’s wedding in Tunbridge Wells on 19 September. Eschewed booking into the Tunbridge Wells Travelodge on account of its shocking reviews on TripAdvisor, so decided to go self-catering, and ended up booking Pippin’s Cottage at Albans Barnyard near Pembury. Booking somewhere outside the town presented us with the challenge of needing to get to and from the wedding, so we attempted to organize all this in advance by looking up a local taxi company (Walkers Cars) and booking journeys each way. In the event, this went completely t*ts up – the cab to collect us never arrived, though the driver did phone us to say he’d arrived at what his satnav had told him was the destination, though it clearly wasn’t. Very kindly, the owner of Albans Barnyard took pity on us and drove us into Tunbridge Wells to the church, where we arrived barely 5 minutes before Helen did.

The taxi we had booked to pick us up from the reception venue did make it to the venue but was unable to find the cottage and we drove for quite a while around country lanes, with the driver’s satnav telling him we’d arrived as we pulled up alongside a gate into a field. Eventually, to my considerable annoyance as it was quite late, he phoned the owners of the property to ask for directions, which as he couldn’t explain where he was, must have been quite challenging to give. More by luck than judgement, we eventually did pass the driveway to the property and luckily I recognized it from earlier in the day. Ironically, Walkers Cars’ homepage opens with “we pride ourselves on being able to accommodate the needs of all our customers”. Employ drivers who actually know where they’re going? I should have written to them to complain, but had rather lost the will once we returned to Reading.

Helen and Greg

Us

Taxi firm aside, everything else about the weekend was lovely. For a wedding, Helen’s was really rather nice, with a few quirky features that gave it interest. She had laudably done an enormous amount of the work herself, getting friends’ help to make table decorations and departing from the white theme by wearing a lovely blue dress she’d apparently picked up for £30. Greg, the groom, had selected a female friend to act as his ‘best person’, and she looked great in a mini-dress and top hat. The guests were transported to the reception venue via The Spa Valley Railway and a specially-arranged class 33 diesel train. The Spa Valley Railway operates between Tunbridge Wells and Eridge, with a stop at High Rocks, the reception venue.

The reception was the usual dinner-speeches-dancing format; Helen and Greg had generously funded an open bar, though I didn’t make much use of it as there was ample wine provided at the table during dinner.

For the second day of our Kentish stay we visited the gardens at Sissinghurst, which are lovely if twee, and there’s a very interesting exhibition of Vita and Harold’s married life. Returned to Pippin’s Cottage via a brief stop off in Cranbrook to go to a supermarket. Pippin’s Cottage itself is probably the most luxurious holiday accommodation I’ve stayed in: done up to a very high spec and with a Sonos sound system in every room, which we enjoyed playing with. I particularly enjoyed the feature which enables you to turn the volume up in the bedroom from a vantage point downstairs, in order to share news and music with your sleeping partner.

Mind-improving activities

Mindfulness taster session

Went to a Mindfulness taster session in September in Stony Stratford, run by Mat Schencks of Milton Keynes Mindfulness. Mat seemed a pleasant chap and it was a moderately useful couple of hours, though not quite sure that it justified the £20 attendance charge. There were the usual couple of attendees who didn’t know when to stop talking about themselves, and two women with evident mobility difficulties who arrived a trifle peeved at having to stagger their way to the top floor. There is a 4-week Mindfulness course available run on consecutive Saturday mornings, but not sure I want to commit to that. The session was held in a room on the top floor of York House, a large Victorian building evidently used by a variety of groups and clubs: the MK Humanists were having a lively time on the floor below us, judging by the noise, and the large room on the ground floor was completely taken over by gamers, sitting around four or so large tables each with war games going on. I’m guessing they were probably these people. I’m sure the group is open to both sexes but they were, without exception, men. Had to interrupt the gaming to find the simpleton who had blocked my car in; luckily managed to locate him at the first table of chaps though he seemed oblivious to the inconvenience caused. Probably has Asperger's, I thought, uncharitably.

Brock Keep as part of Heritage Open Weekend

As part of Reading’s Heritage Open Weekend in mid-September, Ruth and I visited Brock Keep on Oxford Road, next to the former TA barracks (not sure what they are currently). There was an exhibition on the ground floor about the Keep’s history; the upper floors are rented as artists’ studios. A chap was offering tours of the studios, which we didn’t like to turn down though we were both more interested in the building than in the art. The Keep is Grade II listed and sited next to its original army depot, though since the 1980s it’s been owned by Reading Borough Council and is currently rented by arts charity ‘OpenHand OpenSpace’. As buildings often do, it had scaffolding around it on the day we visited, as can be seen in the photo.

Jazz at Progress

In October, Ruth and I went to see the Tony Kofi Quartet at the tiny Progress Theatre up near the university, part of the ‘Jazz at Progress’ season. I don’t really know much about jazz, though I have CDs by Stéphane Grappelli and Dave Brubeck that I enjoy as background music over dinner, but actually sitting and listening to it is something a bit different. Tony Kofi and his band specialize in the works of Thelonious Monk, and the set – titled ‘Monk and More’ – was largely devoted to these, though with a few other bits thrown in. Seeing jazz live is quite an experience as you really get to appreciate the interactions of the musicians much more than when listening to it.

Martha Wainwright at the Stables

In November, took Guy up on his offer of a spare ticket to see Martha Wainwright at The Stables in MK, after one of his group cancelled. Had heard of Wainwright but knew little about her beyond that; went mainly to have a break from hotel rooms and because I’d heard work colleagues speak well of The Stables as a venue. Met up with Guy and his three friends for a nice pre-show dinner in the Stables’ restaurant. Enjoyed the gig, including the supporting set by Addie Brownlee. Both singers appeared in the lobby afterwards, affably chatting with audience members and selling copies of their CDs. Wainwright has a powerful stage presence and delivered lively chat between songs, including some background to each song; my only complaint would be that her delivery made the lyrics less than distinct, and given the background we'd been given, it would have been good to hear them. A minor complaint though.

Memorable outdoor activities

Went up to London at the beginning of September to attend a HESES seminar and had a particularly gorgeous morning walk around Regent’s Park and environs. Took this shot of the lovely Cambridge Terrace Mews, followed by a wander around the park and past the Grade I listed Royal College of Physicians. After the seminar, met Ruth for an early evening dinner at Pizza Express. We decided to pretend we were on our first date, before discovering that neither of us had any interesting hobbies. Spent remainder of meal pondering our date-worthiness.

Rather annoyingly, this year’s NSS conference turned out to be at the Royal College of Physicians, but I felt obliged to suggest to Judith that Jill should go instead of me, partly through grudging appreciation that I should let her have a turn, and partly through genuine inability to take a day out of the office in early November. Will just have to hope I can visit it on some other occasion. Determined to actually go to the 2015 London Open House weekend – or Open City, as it now seems to be called – the 2014 weekend clashed with Helen’s wedding.

Wyfold Court

Went for a Saturday morning walk in October with Ray near Wyfold Court, north of Reading and apparently near a country cycle route that Ray has done a few times. The building itself is an extravagant mishmash of turrety bits with, according to Wikipedia, crocketed heraldic beasts adorning the garden front.

Wyfold Court housed Borocourt Hospital from 1930 to 1993, after which it was converted to apartments. The hospital apparently featured, along with others, in an early 1980s documentary about conditions for mental patients. From available online photos – such as this before and after – it looks as though there were formerly a lot of ancillary hospital buildings that have since been cleared for new housing.

We did a round trip returning to the car via some nearby woods.  I don't remember what Ray was doing in this photo.

Another autumn walk with Ruth via Caversham Heath golf course and Chazey Wood, before an early evening meal at The Griffin. The peace in Chazey Wood is a bit shattered at weekends by the whooping and hollering coming from the Delta Force paintballing centre. As per the previous time, we found ourselves scurrying back down The Warren to make our booked dinner time. Can't remember what we had but I'm sure it was nice.

And so to 2015 ...

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.

Catchy uppy

Edited highlights of the past month or so:

Went to a HESA seminar in London on 12th June, which was as informative and well-organised as their events generally are (no sarcasm – they genuinely are). As usual, had a couple of delegates from other institutions look at my delegate badge and say “Gosh, your HESA return must be huge”. Yes, indeed it is. I was amused – although I probably shouldn’t have been – to note one delegate’s affiliations given as ‘Shurgard HE’ and another, more cryptically, given as ‘Unit 4’.

Headed west after the seminar to spend a few days with the family on the Pembrokeshire coast to celebrate Dad’s 70th birthday. We stopped off overnight at my parents’ house on the way to pick up Hannah, who was exhausted after an unaccustomed cycle ride to the shop in Longtown to purchase cigarettes, and hear news of her recent US trip. Arrived at the very nice Treseissyllt Hafod in St Nicholas around midday the next day and had a lunch and present-opening session with assorted family members. Later that afternoon, a group of us including Mum’s cousin Jonathan, who was staying at a rather shambolic-sounding B&B housed in the farmhouse next door, walked down to Aberbach Bay where we were soaked in a particularly heavy downpour. The following day we walked to the neighbouring village of Mathry where we had lunch in The Farmers Arms, before Dad, Dave, Ruth and I had a windy but enjoyable walk back to the house along the coastal path. On the Friday we visited St David’s where we had a brief walk around and another pub lunch (in another Farmers Arms), before returning via Whitesands Bay, which was almost deserted due to the inclement weather but still had the cheek to be charging £4 to park in its car park.

Relieved that the hastily planned and even more hastily executed photobook I had arranged for Dad's birthday present arrived in time; can thoroughly recommend Yophoto for both quality and a quick turnaround. Was a bit gutted that I wasn't able to source a photo of Dad's business partner Steve in enough time, so here's a picture of them, just to publish one somewhere.

Received a flyer a month or so ago from the OU’s LGBT Network mailing list advertising a workshop entitled ‘Feeling at Home? Queering Home Research’, apparently part of a ‘Queer Home Economics’ event at the Hayward Gallery (currently, of course, housing the 'Invisible' exhibition - what that about?). Anyway, not meaning to be a traitor to my people, but PhD thesis titles such as ‘Queering Heteronormativity at Home’ risk making me spit wine out through my nose, as do communally crocheting rugs out of old clothes and workshops entitled ‘The Knitted Habitat’ and ‘A Conversation about Gay Squats’ (bring your lunch, apparently), not to mention Homo Entertaining. Link to the strangely-formatted agenda, for general amusement.

Hit the Whiteknights Studio Trail with Claire on 17 June and had a pleasant wander around a number of houses in the loosely-defined University area, on the pretext (at least from my point of view) of admiring people’s paintings, glassware etc but actually just having a snoop at their houses. One (from the front) unassuming-looking terraced house in Carnarvon Road had the most amazing glass-roofed extension/garden room area out the back, crammed with books, sofas, arty memorabilia etc. Snooped for as long as I decently could, wishing I could take a photograph, then left after buying a postcard version of a Dan Dunne painting for Ruth.

Had a day in London with Ray on 23rd June, starting (after a fortifying breakfast) with high-tailing it up to Highgate to visit Pond Square, which I have been vaguely intrigued to visit since learning from Secret London that it is rumoured to be haunted by the ghost of a frozen chicken. Apparently stems from a 17th-century attempt at freezing chicken using snow, but I preferred to think of the ghost as a modern cellophane-wrapped affair bouncing in sinister fashion around the square. We briefly considered buying a frozen chicken and mocking up some photographs involving terrified expressions, chicken placed in menacing attitudes etc but decided this would be going a bit far; added to which, there were other people around and it might have looked a bit silly. Anyway; the square is very nice and all, but no chicken sightings.

We then walked all the way back down through Camden and onto the Regent’s Canal towpath, where we walked as far as all the new development work going on at the back of King’s Cross and St Pancras. Wandered into Central Saint Martins’ new home in the Granary Building and posed by the fountains out front, before going to visit the nearby London Canal Museum. The downbeat man on the desk warned us on the way in that “it’s mostly canal stuff ... we’re a canal museum”. In fact it does also have a bit about the ice trade, as the museum is housed in a former ice warehouse – there’s an open ice well on display. Tried and failed to persuade Ray to buy some of the various roses-and-castles-emblazoned bits and pieces from the shop, before having a look around the small but quite interesting museum. Some old film of a journey along the Regent’s Canal, from wherever it starts from down to Limehouse (or possibly vice versa), plus lots of old pics and information about canals and canal boat life. Families of six crammed into a tiny boatman’s cabin, going to the toilet in a bucket, etc.

The first weekend in July had been scheduled for a two- or three-day boat trip along the Kennet & Avon Canal but, disappointingly, water levels were too high. Wandered down to the Caversham Festival to hear Claire's vocal harmony group The Secret Chords doing some singy stuff on the floating stage, and had a beer afterwards with Claire and her new beau Chris. Returned to MK on the Monday and went for a pleasant hour's bike ride, the effects of which on my right calf muscle have only just worn off. Should probably do it more often. When I related the injury to Victoria on my return to work she tactfully pointed out that neither of us is as young as we were. Indeed not.

Mum came to visit me in Milton Keynes over the weekend 21st-22nd July (pictures here). I had planned a pleasant evening walk to The Swan at Woughton for dinner on the 20th, but pouring rain put us off that idea so we stayed in with a Domino’s Pizza instead. On the Saturday we went on a quest to locate the Concrete Cows: parked near the site of Bancroft Roman Villa, which we had a quick look around before walking down through Bancroft Park towards Monks Way and (eventually) locating the cows, where photos were duly taken. The cows in the field near Bancroft are actually replicas, the originals having been moved to the shopping centre in Central Milton Keynes, presumably in a move to preserve them. Close-up, I was a bit disturbed by their staring eyes, as seen in particular on this calf. We then extended the walk briefly to take in the remains of Bradwell Abbey, but there wasn’t much to be seen there as the chapel is currently under scaffolding and the site was taken over by preparations for a music festival. Drove into CMK where we had lunch at the Slug & Lettuce, before returning to the flat for tea and cupcakes.

Went for a late afternoon walk around Ouzel Valley Park before spending the evening watching a selection of trash TV, starting with ‘Location, Location, Location (twice, I think) followed by ‘Supersize vs. Superskinny’ followed by ‘Embarrassing Bodies’. Class. On Sunday morning we visited Linford Manor Park and had a pleasant walk through the village and park down to the canal, before lunching at The Nags Head in Great Linford. Dropped Mum at the station before going home to complete my latest assignment for M255, I fear not as well as the previous one; confidence in newfound programming skills temporarily dented.

Wednesday 14 March 2012

Work outing; carpets and plastering; water

Accompanied Judith and Guy to a meeting last Thursday with HESA representatives at their offices in Cheltenham. I had originally been down to drive, but had managed to get out of that so we all took the train from MK, and very nice too – trains not crowded and a lovely sunny day. Had a useful two-hour meeting with HESA, who always seem to me an extremely on-the-ball and well organised outfit, then had lunch before ambling back to the station. A very civilised day.

Marina view

Had another useful weekend, starting with taking Harley and Lola to the vets for jabs, followed as per usual by Ruth muttering about the cost and threatening to re-home then. After they had been released from their cage and had scurried off resentfully, Harley under the bed and Lola under the coffee table, we welcomed Marc from Rainbow Carpets to measure up the bedrooms and give us an official quote for re-carpeting. The carpet was duly ordered and I gather that it is now in stock, so we just have to arrange a date for fitting. Quelle excitement. I think I have been banned from wearing shoes of any kind upstairs once it is installed. On Sunday morning, we had a return visit from Mark the plasterer to inspect our little cupboard in bedroom 1. He has been booked in to do the work next Saturday, which will be good but did mean a rush job to finish stripping the paper in time, a vile job but now more or less done.

We went up to the marina on Sunday afternoon for a low-key pasty lunch with Ray and a walk around some new permitted paths which have recently been opened up. At the moment the paths, which snake around the various former gravel pits, are exposed and not terribly interesting, but judging by the amount of new planting, the intention seems to be to establish more greenery. We finished up with an outdoor drink at Boaters, the new and renamed marina bar and eatery.

Sulham Valley; Raja Yoga; impending new premises

Parked up with Ray at Sulham Woods early on Saturday morning for the first in what is supposed to be a regular series of once-a-month walks to aid with general fitness (in between all the other good things I am obviously doing, like going to the gym, Pilates, running on the spot etc). We had coffee and bacon rolls in the car park off Sulham Hill while watching a whole crowd of militant-looking dog walkers arriving and striding off into the woods, and then ambled off the other way down the hill to the left turn into Nunhide Lane, a public bridleway running north-south from Sulham down to Theale. It was misty when we started out (about 7.45am) but once the sun broke through it turned really quite nice. Saw a number of pillboxes (including this cute one that appeared to have a tree growing out of it) which Ray thought could have formed one of several 'stop lines' of the little concrete cuties; this document suggests that an anti-tank ditch was dug from the Kennet & Avon Canal through the Sulham Gap to the Thames at Pangbourne, so I guess they were probably connected to that. Anyway. Military history not really my thing. This person appears to have done a whole photographic study of pillboxes in the Sulham Valley, which apparently offers rich pickings for pillbox enthusiasts.

The walk passed Nunhide Farm, which has a beautiful old farmhouse (not the house that can be seen in the Geograph link - that's just a regular house although probably it belongs to the farm) which looked to us as though it was empty and in need of some TLC, and then off up behind the farm passed the listed dovecote known as The Pigeon Tower, built by a local Reverend for his lady love so that she could see it from her house and think of him. The walk skirted the edge of Tilehurst and down Pincents Lane, past Pincents Manor and the now-defunct Pincents Manor golf course, to the retail area that has, really quite excitingly, been acquired by IKEA, although nothing further seems to be happening at the moment and there seem to be the usual objections on traffic grounds, although as the site is just off a motorway junction and not near a residential area it would seem more than ideal, but maybe I'm missing something. Anyway, the rest of the walk took in a footbridge over Sulham Brook and the Moor Copse nature reserve, which, along with approximately 2,000 other places locally, is reputed to have provided Kenneth Grahame with inspiration for The Wind in the Willows and, rather more interestingly, has apparently been the scene of some woodland naughtiness, although I can't say we saw anyone lurking about hopefully. We walked down a section of the old A340 over Hogmoor Bridge and Ray spotted the cat's eyes still in the old road. We then made our way to Tidmarsh and then across country back to Sulham Woods.

In the afternoon, I went along to Battle Library for the first session of a three-part 'Introduction to Raja Yoga Meditation', run on behalf of Brahma Kumaris UK by the charming Clive and Esme. Rather more academic than I had expected and rather less time spent actually meditating, but I shall go along next week and see how it pans out. Met Clare, who seemed to share my view that we were just hoping to calm and focus the mind, rather than being particularly interested in God, the soul, etc. Our homework was, among other things, to spend the week repeating the affirmation "I am a being of light".

Our team's office move to Temporary Office Building 1 is getting ever closer and is now scheduled for mid-November, although it seems to have run into a number of hitches. Despite having been scheduled over a year ago, the 'new' building apparently still has no computer points and has water leaking from the ceiling in one place. In addition, several of the rooms are apparently locked and the keys cannot be found. Given that the university owns the buildings, why the locks can't simply be changed is a bit of a mystery, but there you go. Not starting to pack quite yet.