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.

Speed; bulb tea; fresh air and exercise

The 'Most Popular' slot on the BBC News website continues to amuse, with this incongruous pairing in the top two spot yesterday.

Recently paid my third speeding fine (and collected accompanying penalty points) following being snapped last October. Highly irritating as always. Also, am mightily peeved at not being offered a speed awareness course in place of the penalty points, as a number of people I know seem to have been on these, including Dad who apparently enjoyed the one he went on recently. The initial form I was sent gave me the option to indicate if I’d like to go on a course if a place was available, which I did, but no joy. October’s snapping was near Watlington and would have been on one of my Monday morning cross country drives to join the M40. The previous occasion was near Ross-on-Wye in 2008, and the first in Henley in 2000, when as I recall I was cruising happily back to our flat for breakfast after dropping Ray off at work. All three in 30 mph zones. On the 2008 occasion I was driving a hire car so, embarrassingly, had the notice forwarded to me by the hire people.

Looking back at the notice from 2000: TVP seem now to state the speed you were doing, which they didn’t then. Also my fine on that occasion was a mere £40, whereas it had gone up to £100 this time. Am attempting to take great care to keep to the limit in the 30 mph zones on my Monday drive, even when that involves ignoring other cars backing up behind you and trying to overtake.

Relayed the tale of woe to my hairdresser Lisa on Saturday, who commented that she hadn't seen me as a speed demon. Assured her that I am merely a victimised innocent.

Went for a solo dinner at Wagamama after work last Thursday and ordered a jasmine flowering tea, thinking it would be served in a little pot as per when I’ve had it in other places. Was surprised to be served with a glass of hot water on a saucer, with what looked like a bulb next to it. Assuming I was supposed to put the bulb into the water, I did, and it did indeed burst forth into something resembling a flower. It was the first time I’d encountered flowering tea, but apparently it is a known concept. Not sure whether it's supposed to do something special for you, or whether it's just meant to look pretty. Actually it looks a bit weird, unless sipping from a cupful of leaves and twiggy bits is your thing.

Looking back towards Tanners Lane

Enticed Ruth out for a healthy walk on Saturday, up past Highdown School and along Highdown Hill Road, which peters out into a path leading uphill to Tanners Lane (although there was tarmac visible so quite possibly it was a through route for traffic at some point in the past). Crossed a field from Tanners Lane to join Dysons Wood Lane, where we noted this pair of pillars, which a bit of research suggests marked the driveway to Dysons Wood House. Another Geograph picture has a bit more blurb about the house, suggesting that it was earmarked for demolition in 2011. Couldn't find anything subsequent to confirm whether it actually was demolished, but I have to say I couldn't see it from standing by the pillars (though the hedge had grown up a good bit since the first of the pictures).

Walked through Tokers Green back down into Caversham, stopping off at the Griffin for a pint and packet of crisps. Exclaimed at the number of calories in a bag of Kettle Chips.

Prior to the walk, began Saturday with a reluctant visit to see Jill the hygienist at Prospect Street Dental Surgery. Apparently, as Jill mentioned more than once, it had been eight months since my last visit, which had evidently annoyed her since she's asked me to see her every four months. Not sure what my incentive is supposed to be for forking out around £40 to have my teeth scraped and be lectured about tartar buildup, and have taken to trying to stretch the gap between appointments, though Jill doesn't take cancellations lying down and is given to phoning you and forcing you to rebook. Ruth and I theorised that she'll probably start coming round to the house if I cancel another one.

Walks etc

Presumably coached by Willow, since he’s never done it before, Harley appears to have got the hang of jumping up onto furniture. Here he is on my bed in bedroom 3. My efforts to argue that this isn’t to be encouraged are being stymied by Ruth’s arguments that it’s incredibly cute.

Rosehill House

Walking with MapMyWalk is going well, with some morning walks into the OU from central MK. Beautiful frosty morning in Campbell Park yesterday (left). Also went for a nice c. five mile walk around Caversham on Sunday, solo as Ruth was working on a bid. Walked up Peppard Road as far as Rosehill Park, a housing estate built in the grounds of Rosehill House, according to Wikipedia one of five mansions originally present in what is now Emmer Green. Of the houses mentioned, Caversham Place is no longer standing but the other four are.  Also stopped to take this picture of Emmer Green pond. This quite interesting piece about Emmer Green suggests that the pond was once a lake.

Digressing, Get Reading's regular 'Pick of the Past' slot had an interesting feature last year on the late Caversham Place. It was demolished in the 1970s to make way for more housing on the Caversham Park Village estate.

Received this communication the other day on LinkedIn. However competitive the salary, there’d be no salary high enough to induce me to take a job in, or indeed set foot in, Saudi Arabia. I remember my former colleague Tony at CfBT, who had evidently lived for a while in Saudi with his wife, expressing regret that she hadn't enjoyed living there. Funny that. I remember him telling me that she used to insist on turfing Tony out of the driving seat of the car the second they had driven past the border post out of Saudi, and getting into it in full view of the Saudi border control.

Day in London today for the annual HESA post-collection seminar for the Student return. Well run and informative day as ever led by the excellent Dan Kidd. Took a blisteringly early train into Euston and breakfasted at the branch of Carluccio’s in the Brunswick Centre, before walking down to the venue near St James’ Park. The walk didn’t take me as long as I expected so to kill time and increase the distance, did a quick figure of eight around the lake, on the way reading the interesting story of the Chinese pagoda that briefly adorned the bridge in the early nineteenth century before catching fire and falling into the lake, and a bit about Duck Island Cottage, apparently now used as offices.

Noticed this message in the week on the side of my office box of tea. How lovely that there's a tea information service.

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 ...