It's always hard to get good builders. Half the time they don't call you back, the other half, never show up. Last year I had some work done by a company called Bromley Property Management. Prices were good and quality of work was excellent. I called them yesterday and left a message as I need my back door replaced. They called me this morning and sent a guy 'round to measure up. The guy showed up about 15 minutes later (no waiting around all day in the hopes someone would show)!

How very rare. Highly recommended if you're in Cambridge and need a builder.

So much for summer. :-(

About bleeding time I say. A couple of things shocked me a little when I first moved to the UK: page 3 girls and job ads that asked specifically for "young, energetic people". I've gotten used to naked women in the newspaper, but never could get my head around the practise of putting your age and marital status on your cv.

A conversation in the women game developer mailing list brought one suggestion from a doyen of recruitment to those women in the games industry over 35, "dye your hair and lie about your age". Thankfully, lying is uneccessary (I already dye my hair) as this new law brings employment practises in line with European law and hurrah for that.

In the states, of course, it's illegal to ask a person's age, marital status or religion and illegal to state a preference for a particular age group or gender and quite right too. It's in the employer's best interest not to allow their preconceptions to prevent them from hiring what could be their perfect employee.

BMA doctors want the government to pressure schools not to install soda machines. Apparently they are a big source of income for some schools. Why, I wonder, do they not install fruit juice and water machines instead?

Oh, I forgot - fruit juice isn't addictive. Charming, isn't it?

Finnaly, hunting fox for sport has gone the way of bear-baiting and cock-fighting.

It amuses me how the pro-hunt lobby insists that it's a class issue. They wish!

When I had that inaugural sushi dinner at Teri-Aki I left my wallet at home and the very nice Ursula waved me off to pay the next day. I couldn't go back in without having another go last night, of course. A bit of confusion with the bill meant that our lovely friend Mitch ended up paying the lot. In return, I've decided not to post the photo of him and Marcus that I took as they prepared for a night of debauchery. Well on their way they were, and so should be pleased not to see the photo!

And just to tempt my Cambridge visitors a bit more, here's the last of 5 yellowtail. It tasted just as good as it looks, I can assure you.

So, a drug that causes respiratory problems, makes people pass out after just a few drops in an alcoholic drink, is used specifically in the commitment of crimes, and can result in coma and death is only now being classified as a C drug, while a herb that puts you in the mood for cookies and keeps you at home in front of the telly of an evening is struggling to climb down from Class B status.

Who decides this stuff exactly?

Sushi in Cambridge! It was a while coming, but Teri-Aki has finally got their sushi chef in.

And very lovely it was, too. We are very happy girls.

My second appointment today was in what could possibly pass for the 'burbs in Cambridge. Loosely speaking. Very loosely, as we have nothing that resembles a suburb. Anyway, the "high street"* probably looked much the same 50 years ago as it does today from some perspectives (the one where the superstore is behind you, for example) but I wonder for how long.

Greengrocers are wonderful. No one has the time to go to multiple shops anymore - at least not in Britain. It's still common in Italy. Perhaps with more flexible working hours, it could become more attractive. It's quite a relaxing way to shop, I find.	When was the last time you had a pair of shoes repaired? My shoes never wear out and for those who don't have my extensive shoe wardrobe, it's much easier to buy a new pair when the get worn or break. Soon we'll drown in a sea of barely worn shoes. Wasn't that a scene from the Hitchhiker's Guide or something?	Eh, good riddance to 'em. Why do they always have to look so seedy?

* for my non-British readers, a high street being the main commercial road in a village or town. Never could figure out why it was called a "high" street though.

I had an early morning doctor's appointment - a medical for my insurance coverage. It was the most thorough I've ever had - hooked me up to some machine with little stickers all over myself and all. Timing's everything for these things and today, of course, my blood pressure was borderline high. Not surprising when you consider that I've had one of the most stressful weeks ever and have worked every day far into the wee hours. Oh the joy of self-employment. I do hope they take that into account or I'll need to moonlight to pay the premiums.

Today was graduation day for some Cambridge students if the furry capes and motherly types in big hats were anything to go by. A big congratulations to all of you!

Coming back from the centre, I stopped at the Quayside and noticed that the replacement for the nasty horrible Quay Bar had opened. Poor things - not a single customer, despite the rest of the Quayside being quite full. I warned the very lovely barkeep that all else had failed there and that we'd speculated that it was the lack of sunshine (we'd also often thought it a good location for an internet cafe for that very reason). Nevertheless, the new restaurant, called Ishca, looks nice.

Similar to the new (and garish) tapas bar that opened just up the road, Ishca serves a small selection of tapas-like starters and some other nice things like Wild Boar Sausages, Seared Scallops and Tomato and Basil Gnocchi. It's a gorgeous place, with trendy leather sofas and poufs. I hope they do better than their predecessors.

And I hope the food is better than the other recent openings. I don't know what it is, but whenever a British restaurant tries to get trendy, inevitably they get it wrong - at least outside of London. The food at the Riverside is really quite bad and the B Bar, despite being a fantastic venue, was only sort of ordinary. A tip for visitors, stick to the traditional dishes (Steak and Kidney pie, Roast Dinner, Fish and Chips) and you're likely to be happy.

Anyway, fish and chips is what everyone comes to Britain for anyway, isn't it? No H.Salt Esquire here though. ;-)

I guess my libertarian streak is fairly weak, but I'd like to see way more government control over the appearance of things - homes and developments - in England. In the absense of government action, the Campaign to Protect Rural England is calling on the public to help safeguard the "distinctive character" of local landscapes.

Living in Cambridge is like living in the middle of a picture postcard and the pleasure that this provides is really quite priceless. It is so because the university is quite fussy about its heritage and doesn't allow too much development within it's boundaries. That which it does needs to meet their requirements.

So, for the most part, we are protected from garish signage and plastic frontages on the shops in town. Not as much as I'd like, it must be said, but they do a pretty good job.

Celebrity's a funny thing. David Beckham is hailed as a phenomenon in Japan while remaining completely anonymous in the US.

Prince Wills, on the other hand, is a huge celebrity in the states. If my own friends and family are anything to go by, articles about the prince are being eagerly lapped up there. Amusing how the "21st birthday party gallery" labels Tara Palmer-Tomkinson as an "unidentified guest".

I can't help thinking, though, that the future King being born on midsummer's day would have had huge significance in pagan Britain. In a few hundred years, it will have metamorphised into a myth of Arthurian proportions, no doubt.

Oh, how nice to have the dear wee digicam back. The afternoon was spent as far away from midsummer fair as was possible with a pint at the Granta and a very nice burger and pizza at brb@the Cow.

See the tourist guide snaps here and here.

Today is, of course, the longest day of the year and here in the UK it means that Mr. Sun and his chirpy little friends are up rather early these days. Officially the sunrises around 4:30 but actually starts getting light about half 3. Night doesn't really seem to fall until after 10. It's all a bit strange for a California girl, even after 6 years or so, but kinda cool at the same time.

Midsummer day is turning out well and all. I've caught some sum, did a little work out in the garden (work-work, not garden work) and waited patiently for critters to photograph for Photo Friday.

My entry is not the most original or even technically all that great, but I liked the colours and so entered it anyway.

As we were walking down the boardwalk across the river from Magdelene admiring the dodge-ems set up in the college gardens for their ball, I heard a pack of tourists trying to figure out how to get over there.

I guess you had to be there.

I would have a had a photo to accompany this snippet, because I got my camera back and it was in my purse, but after so long without it, I'd forgotten it was there.

Kind of a non-post really, innit?

A nursing home in Kent has decided that council rates aren't providing sufficient funding and have decided to forego council-funded tenants. The consequence is the eviction of a 102-year-old woman from her care home.

Unfortunately for her, compassion and capitalism are completely incompatible concepts.

The Observer lists ten ways to tell if you're a Geezer.

Hmm, I thought they were known as Townies (or possibly the "P" word).

The first Saturday in June has seen the Strawberry Fair held on Midsummer Common for the last 30 years. It's one of my very favourite events and one I really look forward to each year.

I was convinced that it would be a wash-out this time - with barrels of rain falling yesterday morning - and I really felt for the attendees, all afloat on the green in their tents and makeshift dwellings. The festival is only one day long, supposedly to prevent overnight camping, however on this anniversary there was an ocean of tents down on the pointy end of the common.

Anyway, as it often happens with the fair, the sun came out and it was gloriously warm. Also, as is traditional, I missed the costumed procession through the city but it must have been a good one as there were plenty of fantastic costumes in attendance, along with a good selection of mohawks and some very lovely dreadlocks.

The fair is famous for its huge range of ethnic foods, goods and crafts as well as the lovely green (ahem) smell that permeates the place. Also, as is common, the police were hardly to be seen. While there is a range of fairly questionable produce being sold (specifically some interesting-looking purple mushrooms), the Bill take a very hands-off approach to Strawberry Fair. There is rarely any trouble and once finished, you'd be hard-pressed to know that only a day or two before, the common was a sea of rubbish - probably quite soggy rubbish as it chucked it down this morning as well.

This time I also had my daughter with me, and although there's loads for kids to do, she hates the heat and whinged rather a lot, so we weren't able to stay too long. Being digicamless, I bought a roll of very slow Velvia and another roll of FujiChrome. Not sure if anything will come out as there was a bit of a haze, keeping the light a bit too low in a lot of cases, but with luck I should get a couple of interesting shots out of it.

If only I didn't have to wait so long to get the film back... I really hate that.

The BBC is so cool. Who else would use the term Schadenfreude in a ten-o-clock news bulletin?

It reminded me that I recently ran across this list of Foreign Words and Phrases. No SchadenFreude, however.

Ah well, c'est la vie... Oh, wait that one's not there either.

As I was taking my morning walk around my blogroll, I happened upon this New York Times article via the War in Context. The author closed the article by stating,

Suppose that this administration did con us into war. And suppose that it is not held accountable for its deceptions, so Mr. Bush can fight what Mr. Hastings calls a "khaki election" next year. In that case, our political system has become utterly, and perhaps irrevocably, corrupted.

It got me thinking about what could have gone wrong with the American political system recently (which isn't to say that part of the problem doesn't exist here as well, of course). I had it in mind to write something longer, comparing the American system with the British system and what little I know about the Italian system (those three being the only ones I've actually experienced for myself).

Unfortunately duty calls, so I only got as far as this overview of the British system of government. Interesting stuff. I don't think they actually teach "civics" in the schools here.

It was another of those days, "a bird of like rarest spun heavenmetal". I took stock as I went about my day yesterday since I have no camera to record those things I wanted to photograph (check out the links below for excellent panoramic QT views - the Cambridge Live site is such a great idea.):

1. a flock of more than 25 swans on the river - like a massive white cloud


2. canada geese, numerous ducks, black swans and pigeons all competing with the mute swans for breadcrumbs


3. cowslips and buttercups on the river's rough edges


4. narrowboats with flowerpots on their roofs


5. teams of rowers, their coaches biking alongside calling out encouragement and criticism (I was tempted to take it up again - I'm such a fairweather rower)


6. a family of ducks, the female a light-coloured mix of Aylesbury and Mallard; the ducklings, half of palest yellow and half of dark brown and gold


7. Quayside and the Waterside gardens all packed with diners and drinkers enjoying the sun


8. the first swifts, hurtling about the sky in pairs


9. the Fort St George busy enough to open a second bar outside and the patrons all spilt onto the common; children laughing and chasing, weaving in and out amongst the pint glasses in the tall clover


10. a big fat kebab eaten in the backgarden as we chatted about nothing and listened to the water splashing into the pond


11. chasing off my stalker while my cat sat nearby and watched


12. fat clumps of lavender along my garden path, smelling of sleepiness


13. an early night disturbed by the police trying to convince whoever was in the next-house-but-one to come to his door, eventually putting up a ladder to go in through the upstairs window - (not sure why this was happening - they appeared to think he was a burglar)

OK, so that last bit wasn't "bliss, bliss and heaven", but was a bit of excitement nevertheless...

As any Cambridge local will tell you, going into town on a Saturday is tantamount to gouging out your own eyes and carrying them on a stick. It had to be done though and I spent a part of the afternoon at the Grafton Centre (our local mall). You'd certainly be forgiven for assuming that Cambridge is home to the ugliest people on the planet. Perhaps it's the lighting or maybe it's simply reflective of the type of people that hang out at the mall around here. Who can say - I was one of them today.

I hated it though and was feeling incredibly hemmed in by the crowds and getting quite wound up by it all. We stayed long enough to buy some cookies and kids clothes at BHS. I'd also like to understand why a large department store chain like BHS would assume that one changing room is enough for an entire floor. Needless to say, I wasn't in the mood to wait. Sure hope everything fits...

On the way back, however, I stopped by our poor beleaguered Shopping Forum (because it's got really interesting stuff but rarely any custom). Rather amusingly, you can take a shaky video walk around the forum from their website - amusing because in the vid it's entirely empty, just like normal.

I drooled over these lovely old leather and aluminium chairs I absolutely can't afford, but did manage to talk to the shopkeeper a bit. I explained how I'd been looking for an antique tin sign of a certain size and gave him my card so he could call me if he came up with anything. I really should do that more often as he had some design work needed doing and promised to give me a go. Maybe I could barter for the chair...

Swear like a sailor and no one will know (unless you're in London of course) with this brill dick'n'arry of cockney rhyming slang. There's also a Cockney translator, which though not brilliant, is a bit of a giraffe.

Reading through the list, it's pretty clear that rhyming slang is in the midst of a resurgence in the UK what with the inclusion of rhymes like Britney Spears (beers), Brad Pitt (shit), Uncle Toby (moby or mobile phone), Wind and Kite (website), Becks and Posh (nosh - or food - slang for slang there).

Funny, too, that these days, rhyming slang isn't just for Londoners as you'll find people all over the UK speaking complete flowers.

Innit?

(This little bit of English culture brought to us via NYC and that diamond lemon squeezer, IdleType)

Ah, spring rain. It reminds me that May is drawing to a close and June begins. Incredibly and inexplicably, Cambridge University colleges hold their May Balls in June. May Balls are spectacular events - ones I've never had the pleasure of attending, but can hear nightly from my house. It may be that all the colleges have one - some (or most?) biannually, but just to see what my ears have in store, I've checked out the websites of a couple of the big ones (all of which are sold out, btw):

Queens' College holds their ball on the 17th of June and aren't telling us what the theme is, but there's a nice photo gallery if you want to see what has been presented previously.

The venerable Trinity College (you have to say venerable - I guess 'cause they're so rich) is will be holding a traditional white tie ball but are keeping the entertainment a secret. Previous years have seen Ash, Jason Donovan, The Lightning Seeds, Elastica, and the James Taylor Quartet play.

Peterhouse, Cambridge's oldest college, had their white tie masked event last year which featured a wide range of entertainment, from strolling quartets, casinos, wandering masseurs, comedy, modern dance, juggling, and a cappella singing to funk bands, varieties of cheese(y music) and progressive house DJs. Not to mention a full-on fun fair and giant ferris wheel set up in the college gardens.

Finally, little Magdelene is planning an exclusive, belle-epoque ball in celebration of the tercentenary of Samuel Pepys death and will be inspired by 17th century England.

Betcha there will still be loud music though...

As we move from coffee time to beer time, a few photos from beer-belly central over on the photolog...

I'm not sure if it still goes on in the states, but one thing I've always found quite charming about living in Cambridge is getting milk delivered in glass bottles. Such a small thing, but it pleases me.

Now, what do you think are my chances of getting them to deliver fair trade coffee once a week? Maybe I need to get out the house more...

Get those pint glasses ready - it's Cambridge Beer Festival time on Jesus Green!

Do make sure you read the Beer Buying Ettiquette guide first though. A funny look often offends! (I think that should be their motto, personally.)

Any idea how long it's taking these days to get confirmation that your claim has been filed?

I know the tax office is having some problems with this right now (I hear the computers keep crashing), and their help lines are too busy to get through. I'm not complaining though - I think it's quite impressive that you can do all this stuff online at all.

I've read a few people recently who are tired of the never-ending stream of DIY and house-buying programmes on British telly and I do agree there are rather a lot of them. Maybe they're cheap to make or maybe people really do like them. I enjoy watching them once in a while, but I think they're probably worth if only for the BBC Homes website that accompanies them. Like all the BBC sites, it's interesting and very complete, although I'd love to see more detail, more links and bigger images.

That does lead me onto something I've been meaning to mention. Recently I sent an email to my MP, Anne Campbell, expressing my worry that the communications bill will mean a massive influx of commercial programming - something I'm not keen on. I have to say that the fact that there are only 5 terrestrial channels means I don't watch much TV. Sure, the television is on for part of the evening and I actually look at it when Eastenders is on, but for the most part, it's just background noise. The best BBC programmes are the historical and wildlife programmes - they're fantastic - the rest I can pretty much live without.

And quite right, too. If I really want zillions of channels with tons of adverts, I'll go down and watch digital. But I don't.

So I wonder what the point of the communications bill is. It's supposed to open up UK broadcasting to foreign investment, but we already have more than we need, why more? According to my MP, it will mean "more choice" for viewers. I bristle when I hear that. "More choice" means more mass-market programming that makes the most money. It never means niche products, because you can't make money serving niches (as those in the games industry can attest). So that doesn't mean more choice, it means less and it doesn't mean more quality, it means more pap and frankly, do we really need to be watching more television? Is that really going to drastically improve the British economy? Or does it just mean more advertising so we can be persuaded to buy more things to make some other foreign multi-national rich?

I'm always impressed when I get a direct reply to the emails I send to my MP, but this time I'm not so happy with the answer. I'm not sure what the answer should be, unfortunately...

Jolly great stormin' going on around here. As you can see from the view out the front of my house, it's been hailing a bit and all.

And, as you can also see, I don't have quite as good a view as I did at my old office, but the new office has the benefit of a complete lack of a dress code (or even dress at all, should I choose)...

A Heaven and Earth feature on the beautiful St Michael's Mount in Cornwall led me to Mysterious Britain, a guide to the legends, folklore, myths and mysterious places of Britain. It's a bit sparse, if you ask me (I'm sure there are loads of mysterious places in Cambridge), but nicely organised.

Adam, Geoff and David made it to the North Pole. A big congrats to all of them and a special congratulations to David for being the youngest person to complete the journey. A fantastic achievement for a good cause.

Well done lads!

Speaking of drinking, happy St. George's Day to you. If the site's guestbook was working, you could sign a petition to make St. George's Day a public holiday. Still, you can have a read about England's patron saint.

Now, if we could only get a brewery to sponsor the holiday...

For anyone interested in the UK's nightlife, experience chucking out time[1] for your very own self with b3ta's swearing keyboard.[2]

[1] when the bars shut at 11 and the streets swarm with pissed-up lager louts[3]
[2] via Arseblog's forums
[3] drunken hoodlums who swill lager all night and then beat each 'uver' over the 'ead with beer bottles.

No Fear's artist in residence, Udaiyan, has produced a rather cool piece called The Cambridge Walk of War, a mad drug-induced romp around Parkside. Number 7 - the Regal - is fab.

(I nicked the title from the comments as well - 'tis rather a good one)

I suppose most people know that the London Underground map is an abstraction of the actual geography and that Harry Beck's 1933 map is a design classic, but this Real Underground flashy dooberry is very cool. Watch the map change from Beck's 1933 design to our oh-so-familiar modern version and then morph again into the real deal.

(via MouseChild)

The cows are back on the common.

It certainly seems that the rowers are. Gosh, have a look at the Cambridge University team. Three guys are over six foot, three are six foot five inches, and two of them are six foot seven inches tall. Crikey - wouldn't want to meet the lot of them in a dark alley. Although they are Cambridge boys, so they'd probably just philosophise at you.

Back on our CLabs leaving night, I met a couple of gentlemen who were about to embark on a journey to the North Pole - on foot. A bit mad, but it's all in the name of charidee. Adam, David and Geoff set out on their North Pole Challenge in aid of Children Nationwide on Sunday.

You can follow along with the expedition and view live video streams (as soon as that bit is working). And, of course, you can donate to the cause...

Talk about jammy. Ian Hargreaves leaves the heady world of Independent and New Statesman editorships for sleepy academia, writes a book about his observations of modern day journalism and the public's relationship with the press and manages to time its release with the most reported on and media-centred war in history. A war that has begun to question the role of journalists and the fundamental freedoms of the press that have underpinned democracy since the 18th century.

Ian Hargreaves was at Heffers in Cambridge last night, talking about his book, Journalism: Truth or Dare in which he attempts to unravel the current state of journalistic integrity and indeed, seems to question whether or not it still exists. It certainly appears that the public doesn't think so.

Recent polls have indicated that journalists are among the least trusted individuals in the western world -- only 5 to 10% of people have any faith that what they read and see in the media is the truth. In fact, according to Mr. Hargreaves, most Americans think of the press as a benign force that must somehow be restrained and regulated -- a concept met with horror from the mainstream press who cries censorship at any whiff of regulation.

But Hargreaves suggests that this attitude is more protectionist that altruistic. His contention is that while there are plenty of good things to say about some aspects of the media, the press is getting terribly sloppy - 24/7 news, quick soundbites and instananeous reports from the front line are turning into sensationalism and unsubstantiated rumour that doesn't get checked and then is rarely apologised for when it all turns out to be some weird form of Chinese whispers.

The "uprising" in Basra provided Hargreaves with the perfect illustration. An "embedded" journalist gets a second hand report of an uprising which is sent immediately out onto the airwaves as truth. The fact that the "uprising" was, in reality, a couple of blokes carrying banners in front of a government building, does not seem to have made the corrections column in any of the news sources I've read. He couldn't have made up a better example. Didn't I say Hargreaves was a jammy sod?

Journalism, said Hargreaves, is the historical handmaiden of democracy. What grew out of 18th century Britain and America was a unique and people centred method of providing checks and balances on government. For this reason, the very first amendment of the US Constitution protects the right to free speech and the press. But as multi-nationals increasingly control the media and see it not as the protector of democracy, but as big budget entertainment, there is a worry that the free press has had its day. The domination of the message by big media agencies makes gives the BBC an voice untarnished by commercial consideration and should be looked after and protected from any attempts at privatisation.

Actually, not so much a worry as a recognition that despite the freedoms granted to the press by America's Founding Fathers, there has not arisen regulation (self or otherwise) that makes the press accountable to the truth. I think Mr Hargreaves is not making friends with this assertion, but it is certainly a pragmatic comment on a nearly intractable problem. He suggested that the press was being overly-defensive and evasive when called to task for these trangressions.

At the point when Mr Hargreaves reminisced about a school teacher who wrote on the blackboard, "Capitalism contains the seeds of it's destruction. Socialism contains the seeds of its purification", I thought that the solution was going to be a radical one, but he was, in fact, pointing out reasons to be cheerful.

And, indeed, he started out with what we've been reading from the blogging trenches already - bloggers provide, if not seeds of purification (god knows that unsubstantiated rumour is the cornerstone of the blogging world), then at least the seeds of its self-improvement. Although the sources of information and opinion are vast, "the truth is out there". To be honest, my own opinion is that while varying opinions are a good thing, the real benefit of the blogging world lies in the very, very few who provide a conduit to observations we could never get from the mainstream press. I can really only think of Salam Pax as example and even then, there was much discussion as to his authenticity. The range of opinion from American and British punters means very little until they can be countered by bloggers in Afganistan, Columbia, Zimbabwe or Myanmar. But again, we'll only see the opinions of those with enough wealth to afford an internet connection - it's hardly the most democratic form of public opinion polling.

The healthy state of the book publishing industry is another reason Mr Hargreaves is optimistic (and not just because he's got a new book on the shelves). Books are now providing the in-depth investigative reporting that is so lacking in the 24/7 satellite news broadcasts from the war zone.

And the final reason to be cheerful is Al Jazeera and the other middle eastern news agencies that are coming onto the world scene. With access to many views, opinions and sources of news, we now have the opportunity to decide for ourselves what we can believe and who we can trust. The fact that Al Jazeera broadcasts images that the western world has been too squeamish to show (or is too much under the thumb of multi-nationals who don't want to offend advertisers and governments who wants to control the message), we are getting more sides of the story than ever before.

Hargreave's final message was that the media needs to recognise and take seriously its duty to democracy and it certainly appears that the penny has finally started to drop as journalists begin to question Pentagon briefings and as the public begins to recognise the over-arching power the big corporations have over the messages we receive.

As for me, I'm still thinking that about those seeds of destruction and wondering how long it will be before capitalism rots from the inside out, but maybe my socialist tendancies are straining to break free...

Living in Cambridge provides some mixed blessings. I was all set to go to the Cambridge Discovery Lecture at the Sedgwick tomorrow evening when I passed by Heffers Bookshop and noticed who they had lined up to speak.

Ian Hargreaves is in town to talk about his new book, Journalism, Truth or Dare? which is undeniably relevant - both to the times we're living in and the current debate about "embedded" journalists. Says Martin Bell at the Times:

Hargreaves identifies some disturbing trends: the blurring of the boundaries between advertising and editorial, and indeed between fact and fiction; the redefinition of news as whatever sells newspapers; the concentration of ownership in the hands of great corporations and multinationals; even the phenomenon of the journalist-as-celebrity, with its striking ill-effects: “Fly-in fly-away presenters are no substitute for reporters who know the terrain.”

Looks like the Maori are going to have to wait...

This Thursday's (27 March) Discovery Talk will be given by Dr Amiria Henare in the Sedgwick Museum, Dept of Earth Sciences. As usual, the talk will start at 7.00pm. The doors will open at 6.30pm.

'Adventures in Maoriland: Cook's Tours, Arts & Crafts and Early Anthropology in New Zealand'

We will examine the relationship of leisure tourism and scientific ethnography in the early twentieth century, focusing on expeditions sponsored by New Zealand's Dominion Museum along with their surprising Cambridge connection.

BBC NEWS | Politics | List of Labour resignations

11:56GMT - Anne Campbell, Labour MP for Cambridge, resigns from her role as Parliamentary Private Secretary to Patricia Hewitt, secretary of state for trade and industry.

Well done, Anne. It may not have any real effect, but I'm sure the voters will remember that you have supported the views of your constituency.

Brilliant weather for the science festival today. I wasn't able to see half what I wanted to due to the need for some last-minute birthday present shopping. We spent most of our time in the Sedgwick Museum of Earth Sciences which was fine, 'cause we love that and even then we could have easily spent another hour or so there. More photos (loads) below.

Not a wood owl, but a Great Horned Owl from the Raptor Foundation.
He and his friends were hanging in Downing Court.

It was half one on every face... (I'm sure my camera can put the date
on the photo, but I couldn't remember how.
Yes, it was half one precisely.)

Sundial detail.

Wok and roll music, Downing Court (harharhar). No, really - this is a
musical instrument. I wasn't quite sure why they put this right
next to the poor birds, though. I'm sure they weren't happy about it.

Inside the Sedgwick Museum of Earth Sciences:

Geologist's paraphanalia (clearly ciggies are crucial to every dig).
Click for huge-enough-to-read-the-labels.

I love the old signs and labels.

Anne Elk. Anne Giant Elk, in fact.

Label on a skull of one of them what's on the label.

The Barrington Hippo. Found just west of the city in Barrington.
Believed to be the only mounted hippo fossil in the UK.

The skull on the right found at the Shippea Hill Neolithic site near
Littleport, north of Cambridge. (Click for big.)

Decisions, decisions. This weekend marks the beginning of Science Week here in the UK and there's a fantastic line-up of activities at the Cambridge Science Festival. We seriously run the risk of over-booking, however (assuming anyone manages to roll out of bed before noon, of course). This is my "short" list:

Saturday (all day):

• Eye to Eye Contact - Raptors on show


• Hands-on Maths Fair - SOMA cube, Tower of Hanoi, Levitron, Hoberman Sphere, Tangrams, Aunty’s Tea Cups and giant dominoes


• Visions of Science - winners’ exhibition of this year’s Novartis/Daily Telegraph Visions of Science photographic awards


• Women and Science Day - Women scientists demonstrate their skills and up-to-the minute research in all areas of science and offer some practical careers advice and mentoring


• Paint Your Own Rock Art - inside a yurt


• Scrapyard Challenge - Make a moving animal or insect from scrap metals and junk


• 11:30 to 1pm - In the Footsteps of Cambridge Scientists - A walking tour visiting some of the sites associated with the great names of science which have made Cambridge world famous


• 11am - 12pm and 2pm - 3pm - Get Set - Find out what it's like to study science, technology or engineering at Cambridge University


• 3pm - 4pm - Eye See: Brain and Mind - Join neuropsychologist Dr Roz McCarthy as she discusses some of the fascinating things that the brain does to visual information, and what can happen when this is impaired


• 7.30pm - 9pm - Modern Science meets Ancient Insight - Hear how Buddhist ideas find meaningful models in the empirical method, relativity and evolution; and even lend a new layer of significance to them.

So, the odd non-Brit might be amused at all the references to Pancake Day today. Shrove Tuesday or Fat Tuesday (Mardi Gras) is when you use up all the leftover eggs and flour before Lent and there's a fondness here for the old tradition, probably because it's always a special occasion when you can eat pancakes for supper.

Of course, we're going to have American-style pancakes with maple syrup after dinner. You can only take a tradition so far...

So my previous post got me thinking about why I love living in Cambridge. This isn't to say I didn't love living in Long Beach, Marblehead or Monzuno and in fact I loved those places for similar reasons: the beauty of the surroundings and the community. So different, but really so much the same...

See below for more images of the city from my Sunday photofest (hover over the images for comments)...

More of my Cambridge photos here, here and here or see the blog category (hmm, maybe I need to consolidate).

(weird coincidence - Lemon Jelly's Ramblin' Man was playing on my launchcast station as I posted this)

Some images of the Cambridge Backs and Market Square taken today.

Another interesting Cambridge Discovery Lecture at the Department of Earth Sciences, this time given by Charles Darwin's great, great grandson:

Darwin and the Brain of an Ant

13 February 2003
Sedgwick Museum, Dept of Earth Sciences
Downing Street, Cambridge
Doors open 6.30pm. Talk starts at 7.00pm.

Randal Keynes talks about Darwin and his friend John Lubbock's
interest in ants, bees and wasps, and shows how it feels to be an insect.

...the snow wouldn't melt.

It appears that Cambridge is hoping for a tech revival. A BBC Education article points to the university's "airily laisser-faire" attitude which has allowed staff to wander from university to industry and back again. This in turn seemed to foster more research-orientated companies that were better able to ride out the "global tech slump" than their glitzier internet counterparts.

All would seem well if it weren't for the university's new plans to gain control of all intellectual property produced by its academics. Opponents of the scheme believe that will only serve to stifle creativity.

Oh, and then there's that nasty A14. The one that was a snow-covered carpark last week? Did I tell you about my colleague who left the office at 5:30 on Thursday, only to make it home to at 7am the next morning - a drive that normally takes less than an hour? Or the other who left home at 7 on Friday morning and only made it to the first exit by 3pm (where he could turn around and go home)?

Good thing it only snows once every 5 years, I guess.

A proper one! With no school! A good day to be out and about with a digital camera. (see below...)

It's snowing!

(click for big)

well, ish...

A flower frozen in a garden pot; Magdelene College and a bit of a flurry; St. John's Master's Lodge under a pitiful amount of snow. (image links open pop-up window)

Slip, slip, slip. Crunch, crunch, crunch. That was our walk to work and school this morning as we slid over the un-gritted Jesus Lock Bridge and crunched over the frozen, flooded Jesus Green.

Speaking of Jesus, did you know that, maybe, it's possible, allegedly, that Jesus was a pothead?

Master Pepys is a popular boy this year as Culture by Commotion provides tips on writing a blog that will be read in 100 years in the The Pepys Documentation Project.

I'm going to try some of these ideas, but would add one more suggestion to the list regarding storage: don't underestimate the staying power of paper. CDs are all well and good unless something drastic happens in the intervening years. Actually, maybe carving in stone might be safest...

Pepys spent his day either playing at cards or trying to extract his mates from various card games on that January 4th back in 1660. I was interested to know what kinds of games they might have played and found that England was at that time in the midst of a great passion for gambling.

It seemed that exiled royalist supporters picked up the gambling bug whilst on the continent and upon their return to England the fashion spread rapidly through all the classes. The 1655 edition of Wits Interpreter, (The English Parnassus) by John Cotgrave was the earliest English book to contain detailed descriptions of various card games including Ombre, Picquet, and Cribbidge (Cribbage). In the preface of the 1662 edition, Cotgrave credits the newly-restored King Charles II with helping to popularise the games.

Later in his diary, Pepys mentions that he doesn't yet know the rules to Cribbage, so it's not likely that his friends were playing at that game 343 years ago. Where Ombre is said to be Spanish and Piquet from France, Cribbage does seem to have been a uniquely English game, supposedly invented by Sir John Suckling (a Trinity College graduate as well as poet, playwright, lawyer, MP and soldier) but possibly based upon an old Tudor game called Noddy.

Another game they could have been playing is Whist - the forerunner of the modern Bridge - which was also variously known as triumph, trump, ruff slam, ruff and honours, whisk and swabbers, and whisk. The first recorded reference to Whist is in 1624, however, it was at the height of its popularity in the 18th and 19th centuries.

Pepys spent his day either playing at cards or trying to extract his mates from various card games on that January 4th back in 1660. I was interested to know what kinds of games they might have played and found that England was at that time in the midst of a great passion for gambling.

It seemed that exiled royalist supporters picked up the gambling bug whilst on the continent and upon their return to England the fashion spread rapidly through all the classes. The 1655 edition of Wits Interpreter, (The English Parnassus) by John Cotgrave was the earliest English book to contain detailed descriptions of various card games including Ombre, Picquet, and Cribbidge (Cribbage). In the preface of the 1662 edition, Cotgrave credits the newly-restored King Charles II with helping to popularise the games.

Later in his diary, Pepys mentions that he doesn't yet know the rules to Cribbage, so it's not likely that his friends were playing at that game 343 years ago. Where Ombre is said to be Spanish and Piquet from France, Cribbage does seem to have been a uniquely English game, supposedly invented by Sir John Suckling (a Trinity College graduate as well as poet, playwright, lawyer, MP and soldier) but possibly based upon an old Tudor game called Noddy.

Another game they could have been playing is Whist - the forerunner of the modern Bridge - which was also variously known as triumph, trump, ruff slam, ruff and honours, whisk and swabbers, and whisk. The first recorded reference to Whist is in 1624, however, it was at the height of its popularity in the 18th and 19th centuries.

Samuel Pepys woke to a great frost on January the 3rd, 1660, but this year, the frost came a day later. After yet another day inside, I went out to Littleport to dine with friends in the evening. Littleport is some 20 or 30 minutes drive from Cambridge, just north of Ely where there's a great cathedral that I've never visited. Ely is also the hometown of Oliver Cromwell who had died two years previous. Both Pepys and Cromwell attended the Huntingdon Free School which is located to the west of Ely and about 20 miles northwest-ish of Cambridge.

Back in Pepys' day, Littleport was emerging from life as an island in the middle of the fens - a large tract of marshland that flooded in the winter from the rising North Sea on the one side and rainwater on the other. In the 17th century, the government began to drain the fens in order to turn them into farmland, much to the disapproval of the local residents who depended on fishing for their livelyhoods. Today, the fenlands are again flooded due to some extremely heavy rains here recently.

While my daughter played one console game after another with the youngsters of the house, we ate, drank and talked until 3am when we finally managed to find a cab to get us back to Cambridge. It snowed a little on the way back and I'm hoping that the now-flooded common will be frozen enough to slide around on...

As I mentioned previously, my social life is nothing like master Pepys' and in contrast to his day 343 years ago, mine was positively immobile.

I was intrigued, however, by his reference to his supper of sliced brawn. Having never heard of this dish, I looked it up and found that, not surprisingly, brawn was originally the term for any muscle or meat and then tended mostly to refer to the meat of boar. By the mid 18th century, brawn generally refered to pork that was "collared" or tied up like a ham and eventually came to mean a pickled, pressed and sliced pork (mostly the head) set in jelly.

I don't know which of these Pepys refers to in his diary, but one other tidbit is interesting. Apparently, one element of a brawn meal is consistent to this day and that's the custom of serving it with mustard. Later recipes included mustard, sugar and vinegar. Brawn Sauce anyone?

(These interesting meat product facts found here)

I figured since the view out my office window is of Pepys Library at Magdelene College here in Cambridge, that it would be appropriate to include a reference to the online version of Samuel Pepys diary.

This day-by-day account written in 1660 has been put online by Phil Gyford and uses the interconnectedness of the 'net to provide collaborative annotations of the diary which, in its physical form, is held at the library across the river.

So (via the wonders of RSS and Adam Curry's javascript feed thingy) , you'll see the day's diary entry to the left in the smoking room with its port and cigars. I was considering doing my own companion diary until I realised that my social life was far less rich, and therefore, much less interesting than his. I will endeavour, however, to provide meaningful and relevant commentary if I can.

Perhaps I'll even revive the old CamCam.

I was walking down Trinity Street towards the market this afternoon when my daughter pointed towards a small church. She reminded me that recently she met Terry Waite at the "opening" of the church but hadn't previously remembered where the church was (nor as it happened, who Terry Waite was).

"Opening? You were here in the 14th century?" I asked her. She rolled her eyes. "No, they've remodeled the inside" and led me in. Thinking it was called St. Michaelmas Church, I thought I had a good New Years eve post, even though the Michaelmas term actually ended on December the 19th (still, the autumn season was traditionally known as Michaelmas in Cambridge, so it's sort of relevant).

However, I was mistaken about the name of the church as well and this is now simply a tenuous segue to a New Year's eve post.

The church itself is called St. Michaels and was originally the chapel for Michaelhouse College, which Henry the VII merged with Kings Hall in 1540 to create the venerable Trinity College, Cambridge. When men and women of means were no longer able to funnel their charitible contributions towards monastaries, they turned to colleges which led to a flurry of establishments in the 14th century. Michaelhouse was a typical example, founded in 1324 by Hervey de Stanton, Chief Justice and Chancellor of the Exchequer to Edward II.

Today little remains of this forgotten college. St Michaels, however, has resurrected itself as a posh cafe and meeting centre.

St Michael himself will have a New Year's link, though, as the Queen bestows her New Year's honours, including the order of St Michael and St George, which is awarded to British subjects who have rendered extraordinary and important services abroad or in the Commonwealth.

Another set of orders are those of the British Empire to reward civilians and service personnel for public service or other distinctions. Terry Waite (a Fellow of Trinity College) received his MBE (Member of the British Empire) in 1982 and his CBE (Commander of the British Empire) in 1992. One of this year's MBEs has been awarded to Reverend Tim Alban Jones, the vicar of neighbouring Soham, who is being honoured for his assitance to the village when schoolgirls Holly Wells and Jessica Chapman were murdered there last summer.

So, as we pass from 2002 to 2003, I shall leave you all with this:

December 31
Upon completion comes fulfillment.
With fulfillment comes liberation.
Liberation allows you to go on.
Even death is not a true ending.
Life is infinite continuation.

January 1
This is the moment of embarking
All auspicious signs are in place
--Deng Ming-Dao (365 Tao)

Happy New Year everyone! May your embarkations be both interesting and propitious!

-----------
Impermanence -- Thich Nhat Hanh

Nothing remains the same for two consecutive moments. Heraclitus said we can never bathe twice in the same river. Confucius, while looking at a stream, said, "It is always flowing, day and night."

The Buddha implored us not just to talk about impermanence, but to use it as an instrument to help us penetrate deeply into reality and obtain liberating insight. We may be tempted to say that because things are impermanent, there is suffering. But the Buddha encouraged us to look again. Without impermanence, life is not possible. How can we transform our suffering if things are not impermanent? How can our daughter grow up into a beautiful young lady? How can the situation in the world improve? We need impermanence for social justice and for hope.

If you suffer, it is not because things are impermanent. It is because you believe things are permanent. When a flower dies, you don't suffer much, because you understand that flowers are impermanent. But you cannot accept the impermanence of your beloved one, and you suffer deeply when she passes away.

If you look deeply into impermanence, you will do your best to make her happy right now. Aware of impermanence, you become positive, loving and wise. Impermanence is good news. Without impermanence, nothing would be possible. With impermanence, every door is open for change. Impermanence is an instrument for our liberation.

Funny how small the world actually is. I stumbled across a journal of someone's San Jose-Cambridge-Paris pub crawl from 1998. They come from the town of my birth and hit my everday haunts here in Cambridge. Kinda weird.

As I've mentioned, across from my office is Magdelene College which is the home of the Pepys Library. Samuel Pepys, whose family was originally from Diss in Norfolk (where I lived when I first came to England), is best known for the diaries he wrote between 1659 and 1669 describing life in London and Cambridge and which are housed in the library. The photo at right is a view of Magdelene from my window and the library is the building on the right. (That bit of grass, by the way, is where we saw Nelson Mandela as he received his honorary fellowship at the college last year.)

On a tip from Marc, I've registered Burnt Toast with the Pepys Project, an index of weblogs, diaries and journals.

All those blogger meet-ups and what-not in London - it's about time there was one near here and what better bash than a b3ta bash? That's 14th December at the Regal (pity it's such a shit pub, but nevermind).

Be there!

Cambridge University argues for monkey research at a site in the greenfield belt near here. This means using land designated to be free from development, will result in constant chaos from animal rights protestors and isn't nice. I'm disappointed with the University and will be saying so.

The arguments for and against animal testing make it difficult to set oneself a hardline to adhere to. It's easy to say that testing cosmetics on animals is shameful. On the other hand, we learn so much about the way we and the creatures around us work by investigating the brain and how it works. This is the primary use of primate testing.

But if you are mindful of the fact that these creatures feel the pain, suffer the torment and are aware of what's happening to them but have no idea why or when it will stop, you must start to appreciate how horrible it is for us to abuse our positions in the world by forcing other creatures to suffer on our behalf. Diseases like Alzheimer's are terrible for the sufferers and their families, but are partly a result of us living longer. I want people all over the world to be free from suffering, but perhaps we need to look closer at when and how we act in the interest of science.

I have to ask myself, is living a little longer worth losing our humanity?

...and I didn't have my camera. (bangs. head. on. desk.)

--------
Of course, it was in aid of Children in Need. The British seem to approach charitable giving differently from Americans. I couldn't find statistics comparing amounts between Americans and Brits, but the style of fundraising is certainly different.

In the states, it seems often to be corporations that make the major contributions, as well as donations given by individuals via their salaries (planned giving) as opposed to "spare change" donations traditionally practiced by UK givers. Telethons are also big money-spinners in the states, even though everyone hates them.

Here, there are a lot of national drives and they take wackier and more in-your-face forms than you commonly see in the states. Comic Relief is huge and virtually everyone participates in one way or another, whether simply wearing a red ball on their nose or providing other comedy relief in the streets and offices.

The Poppy Appeal just finished as well and you'd be hard-pressed to find a single celebrity not wearing a paper poppy on their lapel. Same with people in the streets. (The Poppy Appeal is not a horticultural charity, rather a movement by the Royal British Legion in aid of military veterans)

And of course, Children in Need is a biggy, sponsored by the BBC, who really make an event out charitable appeals.

All good fun and very community spirited.

It's been a little wet around here lately. I had a Flintstones moment this morning as I went arse over teacup on the wooden deck behind my house. The leaves that were a foot deep are now thick and slimy. You can see how a rich soil could easily form on the pavements if they weren't cleared up eventually. Even the mini has a fine layer of mould...

You may have noticed that I tend towards animal charities but the needs of human children are vitally important. Tomorrow (well, all this week, really) is the annual BBC fundraising event, Children in Need. There's a lot going on all over the UK. Close to me, there's a fun run at the Science Park and my daughter's play group is filling a giant teddy with coppers for the charity.

Go get involved and Raise a Smile!

Quite a lot, really. I just got a message from Pete about the Half Head Challenge back in September. (see below in More)

-----
Says Pete:

"Just to let you all know, all the money's now in for the Half-Head Challenge, and I added it up last night. In the end, we raised a rather large £1333.73 to split between the Big Issue Foundation and Jimmy's Night Shelter, so sincere thanks to everyone who either sponsored myself, Guy, Francis or Pete, or donated online, or donated on the day, or generally helped out with any of the organising bits and pieces. Even better - after Gift Aid (which allows the charities involved to recoup from the government 28.5% of money donated if the person donating the money gave their permission), the total rockets up to over £1600! Excellent stuff!"

Excellent indeed. And, the boys' hair has grown back - mostly.

There was a bit of a peace protest/excuse for a street party at the squat next to my Sunday Lunch local (which is across the street from the Shire Hall). The police had blocked off the road in both directions and the music and dancing had started. Soon there were at least 8 police cars and a couple of vans.

Note to myself number 45: carry camera at all times!
Note to myself 46: running the 3/4 of a mile home for camera should not be attempted after 2 pints of Guinness, roast lamb dinner and sticky toffee pudding.

More photos below.

Eventually some ground rules were established. Protesters weren't allowed to stop in the road, had to be off the road within 3.5 minutes of stepping on and could not stop in front of a car.

There were obviously many creative ways of skirting these rules, however.

The music was also alternatively loud, quieter and off. At some point the crowd was asked if they wanted the music on and there seemed to be an unspoken consensus from the police.

Right after this, the officer on the left's phone started ringing The Simpson's theme tune...

...which made me laugh.