Fish soup

In the margins of stocking up on white puddings yesterday, I noticed a box of white smoked haddocks, so took a couple of those as well. Maybe three pounds weight together.

This being a little more than the two of us take at a sitting and there being a supply of left over vegetables, indicated soup for tea yesterday, watery hot soup being an oddly good thing when it is hot outside.

Start with somewhere between two pints and two litres of water. Add the left over mashed potatoes and brown rice. Add a bit of chopped onions and cross-sliced celery. Simmer for a bit. Add a tail - maybe six ounces - of smoked haddock - and simmer that for eight minutes by the timer. Remove, skin, flake and set aside. Flake a piece of left over salmon and set aside.

About ten minutes before the off, add the left over crinkly cabbage, chopped into (roughly) half inch squares.

About five minutes before the off, add the fish.

About two and a half minutes before the off, add a modest amount of mushroom. Cap in segments, stalk chopped.

Very good it was too, taken with a little brown bread.

The bit of fish skin was put on the back lawn, thinking that after the crows' performance with the beef scraps ten days previously, the skin would go fast enough. In the event, no action after half an hour, so into the compost dustbin it had to go, not wanting to attract nocturnal foxes.

PS 1: this morning's queue scene: healthy pedestrian queue, snaking back to and into Waterloo Road, for the town centre Wilko. Town quiet otherwise. Healthy car queue, backing up into the by-pass, for the Ruxley Lane Aldi. Quite a lot of cyclists about, but nowhere near as many as on the bank holiday Monday just past.

PS 2: a small piece of discarded tail from today's ration of haddock went in under 15 minutes. And the rather larger amount of fish skin from our portion went in less than an hour, although we missed the actual action. Perhaps crows prefer to eat in the middle of the day. Perhaps they were attracted to the parsley sauce which had been served with our portion. Balance to be turned into fish pie tomorrow.

News from Microsoft

A news item from Microsoft this morning - their seeming to have taken a leaf from the 'Guardian' web site by including snippets of interesting science in their news feed.

In this case the news that while human beings might have come from Africa a few tens of thousands of years ago, worms came from Scotland half a billion years ago. '... A fossilized millipede-like creature discovered in Scotland may represent the oldest-known land animal, a humble pioneer of terrestrial living 425 million years ago that helped pave the way for the throngs that would eventually inhabit Earth's dry parts. Researchers said the fossil of the Silurian Period creature, called Kampecaris obanensis and unearthed on the island of Kerrera in the Scottish Inner Hebrides, inhabited a lakeside environment and likely ate decomposing plants. Fossils of the oldest-known plant with a stem, called Cooksonia, were found in the same ancient lake region as Kampecaris...'. 

I presume that Obanensis is cod-Latin for a native of Oban, a seaside resort in the west of Scotland we once intended to visit, more than forty years ago now. Never made it - although we did pass through Crianlarich a little to the east much more recently.

Series 2, Episode VI

In the last episode Polly and her friends were rather cross that their adventure snaps had not turned up from Peppa Central. As it turned out, they did turn up later in the day that they held their sit-down strike on top of Grandpa's laptop.

A few week's previously, before the Great Plague, Grandpa had picked up a good length of two by two from somewhere. Pedro and Yuri thought that it would make an excellent bridge from the roof of the extension to the roof of the garage, over the back patio. There would be no handrails so they would have to be careful, but there would be super views. Maybe they would be able to persuade Joey the cat to have a go.

Baby Bear was a bit prone to vertigo outside so he wouldn't have a go, but he seemed to be OK hiding under the flower pot and watching the goings on from there.

Yuri went in front, as being dressed up as a cosmonaut he was clearly going to be best at heights, then Pedro - with Polly bringing up the rear.

You can see in this snap how high up it must have seen to them. At least the bridge was quite wide, nearly as wide as they were tall which was something. While Grandpa with his big feet would probably have had trouble balancing on it all, even had it been a great deal nearer the ground.

After a while, Yuri, being only small, got bored with walking backwards and forwards across the new bridge. Particularly since Grandma had stopped clapping and had got on with reading her book. So he a Grandpa knocked up a little contraption so that he could abseil down to the patio. Not only was it good fun, but he enjoyed all Polly's and Pedro's concern. So concerned that they lay down on the bridge, the better to keep an eye on him as he went down. Not that they could do anything about it if anything had gone wrong.

Which it didn't. So after a while they all traipsed into the dining room, out of the sun, and tucked into raspberries and ice cream for lunch. The raspberries had probably been grown somewhere in Africa, but the Sainsbury's web site did not say exactly where.

PS: curiously, when you click on Microsoft's Edge's zoom in to try an make the picture of the raspberries on the Sainsbury's website get bigger, and so perhaps to read the small print on the label, the picture zooms out. That is to say the picture is biggest when zoom is 10% and smallest when zoom is 1000%, which is not what I would expect at all. On the other hand, I have learned the browser zoom is a way to make the unsatisfactorily small pictures on new style blog bigger. Don't suppose it makes the number of pixels bigger though; just a crude enlargement.

Reference 1: http://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/series-2-episode-v.html.

Group search key: wwwy

Hook Road

A bit late out, so back on the Ewell by-pass run yesterday afternoon, that it to say coming back via the Old Kingston Road rather than Ruxley Lane.

Rather more striking in real life than would appear in the snap. A couple of old bracket fungi on a more or less derelict tree in the grounds of what used to St. Ebba's Hospital. A hospital which does live on, albeit in rather attenuated form. Brackets from last year? Older?

Even more striking was the display of dog roses along the post-and-rail fence along the boundary, just one of which is snapped above. I don't know how long they will last, but they were looking very good yesterday afternoon. With some of the specimen trees planted by a former director visible behind: with one story being that the former director was a tree-nut, another being that he took in valuable specimens from Kew Gardens for safe keeping during the second world war.

And I was pleased to see that someone, presumably the council, had cleared away the dollop of garden waste noticed at the end of reference 1. The system works!

This morning, for the first time for a while I did the Malden Rushett - Chessington North run: plenty of traffic and taking about an hour.

The most notable feature was lots of very large cow parsley before and after Malden Rushett, some of which must have been well over two metres high, although probably not as much as three. Enough to make using the low grade cycle path running between Christchurch and Malden Rushett rather a pain. Let's hope the cars appreciated being able to get past me without having to wait for oncoming traffic.

Home to sit under the nut tree, in the shade, admiring the oak tree over the pond. To be rewarded with a confirmed sighting of a nuthatch grubbing about in a lower fork - with there having been a couple of unconfirmed or BH sightings in the past few days. Plus what looked like a small great tit singing away at the very top of a neighbouring cypress tree of some sort. Perhaps I will get around to having the monocular to hand when I sit in the garden for confirmations.

PS: not very happy about the loss of picture quality under the new regime, with these two being a long way from what I get from the originals. Dog rose particularly poor. Maybe I will have to make inquiries.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/ruxley-lane-anti-clockwise.html.

A snippet from Delbourgo

Context

Visible text

Real text

My second, rather desultory, reading of reference 1, as has been noticed from time to time, most recently at reference 2, continues, with this snippet being turned up yesterday evening.

I start with the observation that people in the US like to castigate us Brits for our dreadful colonial record, seemingly blind to their own record, which is not that much better. For example, stealing most of what is now the south west of the USA from Mexico. Or bottling up what was left of the indigenous peoples in reservations. A blindness with sits badly with their strangely prolonged regard for the words of our Lord. I think particularly of the parable taken from the Sermon on the Mount about motes and beams. With a modern language version of same illustrated above.

Then yesterday, I read about one Elihu Yale who made a great deal of money out of more or less dubious transactions and trades in India in the early eighteenth century. 'A rapacious private trader', that is to say not trading under the umbrella of what became the East India Company, who went on to buy his place at the high table by bankrolling the foundation of what become the Yale University in Connecticut. Elihu does get a mention at reference 4, but the rapacious trading does not.

I associate to the thought that places of education in this country were sometimes founded by kings who were pious and possibly learned - but pretty useless at being kings in the rough and tumble of the late medieval world. See King Henry VI.

Reference 1: Collecting the world: Hans Sloane and the origins of the British Museum - James Delbourgo - 2017.

Reference 2: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/a-building-site.html.

Reference 3: https://www.biblegateway.com/. The source of the illustrations. Just a few clicks away from the starting blocks.

Reference 4: https://www.yale.edu/.

The brick scene revisited

Following the report at reference 1, around three weeks ago, it is time for an update. The big news is that the carriage of bricks up and down the garden has been slowed down by the resumption of daily exercise by bicycle, as recommended by Chairman Johnson and as regular readers will no doubt already have noticed. From a target of 48 a day - otherwise 3 heaps - to an achievement of something nearer 16 - otherwise 1 heap.

Nevertheless, the total number of bricks carted since the start of lockdown is now 1984 (as in the famous novel), amounting to 263,872 horizontal metres and 5,952 vertical metres. This last being just about the height of Alpamayo in Peru, in the fourth division. See reference 2.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/the-brick-scene.html.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_mountains_by_elevation.

Cheese

Took another delivery of Lincolnshire Poacher today, a day or so early but right on time as far as the delivery company, DPD, is concerned. Plus, I am getting to know how to track my parcel with them and I am getting to know the driver who seems to get the round for this part of Epsom. Just like a postman of old.

Once again impressed by the packaging, which I thought to share, only omitting the sturdy cardboard box, cunningly designed to be folded into a box from flat, without needing metal fasteners, at the Neal's Yard Dairy warehouse in Bermondsey.

Left, two packets of what turned out on inspection to be a sort of low grade woollen felt, presumably made out of waste from a woollen mill. Top a bit of insulation, in three bubbles. Bottom right, a sort of freezer bag, the sort of thing we might put in a picnic bag - and we have retained it for that very purpose. We are assured that all the clear plastic is bio-degradable - so it is in the compost dustbin, along with one of the two felts. The other has been retained because it is bound to come in useful one day. And anyway, it seems a pity to throw it away.

One wonders how much it all costs. I think the cheese is much the same price as it is in their shops and I would have thought that DPD take all of the modest delivery charge - so the packaging must come out of the margin on the cheese. But packaging and delivery apart, mail-order is probably cheaper than selling out of London Bridge or Covent Garden, so perhaps they are doing OK.

One of the two felts, out of its bag.

Close up.

Too close for Cortana to cope. Maybe she would have, had I worked out how to fiddle with the settings on the telephone, of which I believe there are plenty. Just like the real cameras we thought we had left behind. Not that I ever owned one, not even a Box Brownie.

It is possible that one elder brother had one at one point, either picked up from a junk shop or handed down by my parents, who had moved onto something with black bellows by the time that I can remember. He was rather keen on mechanical gadgets and contraptions of one sort or another - although this one had no settings at all by the look of it.

Something along these lines, although I have no idea what brand or model. Maybe it will come to me. Maybe my sister will remember.

PS 1: another moan about Blogger's new client. The pictures, when posted, do not click to enlarge very much any more. In the old client, when one clicked on a posted image you got it more or less full-screen, which I liked. But no more. Perhaps they are pivoting towards the small screens of telephones. Maybe I will turn up some setting. Maybe I will try and fiddle with the HTML. But I would rather not have to.

PS 2: later: more fiddling with images. Now all set to 'large'. Extra large not a good plan as then the snaps overflow onto the lists of posts on the right. Not very pretty at all.

Hmmm

This morning, I think somewhere in the vicinity of Moor Lane, Chessington, we passed a middle aged man dressed in Lycra on a bicycle - the variety with chunky tyres rather than a proper road bike. Nothing very remarkable about that, until I observed that the left leg was a falsie. I think the amputation was above the knee, but I am not sure about that now.

While he seemed to be getting on OK at the lights, his action was not as neat and controlled as that of an able bodied cyclist.

Should one applaud the drive & determination which got him out on the road or does it count as foolhardy, apt to cause accidents?

For some reason, I associate to the much younger man I once came across at the traffic lights at the northern end of Waterloo Bridge, who was cycling with bare feet. A younger man whom I can picture now and whom I did think foolhardy. And which I am sure I noticed at the time, but no combination of bare, feet, foot, cyclist and Waterloo seems to do the trick (as a search term for the notice in question). Very frustrating. Perhaps I will come up with something later in the day.

PS: the next morning: brain clearly refreshed and the new search term 'bullingdon+feet' turned up the post in question, from August 2017. Yesterday's focus on 'bare' had blocked it. See reference 1.

Reference 1: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/08/the-blade.html.

Reference 2: https://bikesreviewed.com/fun/barefoot-cycling/. Bing knows all about barefoot cycling - and I did not find the word 'foolhardy' on this web site. But I did find the picture included above.

A stray thought

A stray thought, from yesterday evening or early this morning. To the effect that something like a big jet engine is not that unlike a human body. In the sense that it is made up of a relatively small number of large components, of gross components, connected together by a complicated maze of much smaller components, pipes and wires. Rather in the same way as the small number of large components in the body are connected together by a complicated maze of blood vessels, lymph nodes and nerves. These big engines certainly cost a great deal, maybe something more than £10m each, so perhaps their complexity is also approaching that of a human body.

With this particular engine brought to me by Google from the Seattle Times, who provided the caption: 'In 2014, Air New Zealand and Boeing showed off the first delivered 787-9 Dreamliner at Paine Field in Everett as finishing touches were put on the casing of a Rolls-Royce Trent 1000 engine. (Mike Siegel/The Seattle Times)'.

PS: I am still struggling with inserting pictures into posts using the new Blogger client - if that is the proper term for the interface that I use - including getting into a pickle with the position of the previously posted pig. The thing that I type into - and which this morning I cannot persuade to wrap text around an engine. I also suspect that the new client still has a fair number of bugs in it, but whether or not I can be bothered to report them remains to be seen. I seem to remember from the past that Google engineers do pay attention to error reports which have been posted to the proper forum - if I can remember or otherwise bother to work out where that is. On the other hand, I have found out where they have put the HTML view button.

Ruxley Lane anti-clockwise

Sunday past saw the inauguration of a new cycle route for my daily exercise. The change being continuing towards Tolworth Tower after leaving the Ewell by-pass and then turning left back to Hook Road Arena at Ruxley Lane. With the whole circuit, involving two or three modest inclines, taking around an hour, as opposed to my walks, suspended since the start of lock-down, which were taking getting on for two hours. Notwithstanding, the cycle probably amounts to more exercise and probably does more for the heart.

A new-to-me sign about camping on Clayhill Green

First item was the new sign about camping, snapped above. A new sign which looked more DIY than the old sign, which talked of courts and by order of. With the ground behind the wall, a heritage, protected wall, being the subject of a noisy planning dispute about proposals to build a small housing estate. A dispute which reminds us that nimbyism is alive and well in Epsom. Perhaps also jealousy of the two or three householders who stand to make a tidy sum by selling out to a developer.

On into Epsom, where there was a well spaced but lengthy queue outside Wilko. Perhaps Epsom shoppers needed a change from Waitrose and Sainsbury's.

At the start of East Street, the long resident water tanker was still missing from outside the strip club, but was parked instead at the top of Adelphi Road, across the road.

A little further on, the Sainsbury's trolley previously noticed outside the flats made out of a large white house opposite Park Hill Road, not the one with fake black shutters, has now become two trolleys. Maybe I will get to make it on foot one day soon and capture them.

The lilies of Ruxley Lane

Onto the healthy looking parades of shops at the Ruxley Lane junction, including an Aldi and a variety of fast food outlets. Including one called 'Taste of Germany' offering German style pizza and doner. Clearly a place to be investigated in due course - but not to be confused with the people at reference 1, perhaps their model. Perhaps fired up by all the Turks in Germany, rather as we were by all the Greeks and Turks from Cyprus.

There were also some impressive beds of a sort of lily I had not seen before, in the shade of some palm trees. Some civic minded restauranteur?

The foreign cars of Ruxley Lane

Then around the corner we had a showroom full of Italian cars, perhaps the source of the Lamborghinis and Maseratis one comes across from time to time. Rather better pictures on their web site at reference 2.

The Methodists

Next up was a substantial, and not very old, Methodist church in Ruxley Lane proper. Presumably they thought that there were enough people who feared God in the right way to be worth building such a place - which is curious given its reputation - with the story that I remember being that the Kingfisher just down the road used to attract a rather loud and rough trade - until the brewer decided to take the offer from Tesco.

The cycle lane, heading towards Ewell West

There was the sort of cycle lane that I like when I turned out of Ruxley Lane onto Chessington Road, taken out of the road proper, rather than sharing the sidewalk with the pedestrians. One way, unlike some of the cycle paths in central London, which I do not like. Proper road surface and right of way at side turnings, which I do like.

The cow parsley

The arena

The cow parsley was coming on well at the entrance to Hook Road Arena and there was plenty of space for socially distanced sunbathing inside, not like on some of our beaches. Just a few dog walkers in the distance. That said, with the main gates shut, parking might be a problem for people that drive there.

The last item of interest was a neat heap of fresh garden waste on the grass verge of Hook Road. About a cubic metre of the stuff. Presumably the sort of garden contractor who offers attractive rates to his customers by dumping a chunk of his costs onto local and central government. The former by not paying to use the waste disposal facilities provided and the later by not paying much in the way of tax, VAT or otherwise. One likes to think that respectable people do not use contractors of this sort - but there must be enough people who do to keep them in business.

Reference 1: https://www.germandonerkebab.com/.

Reference 2: https://autofficina.co.uk/.

Reference 3: https://www.ruxley-church.org.uk/welcome.htm.

Spare a thought for the pigs

This being my first attempt at using the new Blogger interface, due to become the default shortly. The first change that I noticed being the absence of the HTML option, commented on at reference 1. The second change being the changes to the details of inserting pictures. I dare say that there is plenty which has changed for the better and that I will get used to it all eventually.

Prompted by being reminded by the Microsoft news feed about the unfolding tragedy in the world of pigs known as African Swine Fever or ASF. A highly infectious and usually fatal disease spreading through the pigs of the world, with the one snapped coming with the caption 'provided by the Guardian. A wild boar in woods near Saint-Hubert, Belgium. Recent ASF outbreaks in the country’s wild boar population are now under control. Photograph: Julien Warnand/EPA-EFE'.

All a bit more drastic for the pigs than the coronavirus is for us because, as with mad cow and foot & mouth with cows, the usual response is the slaughter of any pig deemed to be in range of an infected pig. Getting on for 6 million of them so far this year. Rampant in the Far East and in Eastern Europe, and looks to spread further. But seemingly not Africa, despite the name.

But to put things in perspective, more than 6 million animals were slaughtered in this country alone during the 2001 outbreak of foot and mouth. With the same sort of disregard for regulations which triggered this outbreak being all too likely to let ASF into our green and usually pleasant land. The same Professor Roy Anderson from Imperial, presently in the news again, was one of those on the case. See reference 2.

PS: later, not just the details of the insertion of pictures, but also the details of their display on smart phones, with text now appearing at the side of left justified snaps, as this one. What one wants on a big screen, but not a small one. A problem for tomorrow.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/04/who-dun-it.html.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2001_United_Kingdom_foot-and-mouth_outbreak.

Pedals

The new pedals advertised at reference 1 have now turned up and have been successfully fitted. First outing around the Ewell by-pass anticlockwise entirely successful and much easier on the feet.

Having bought the vintage pedals without giving the matter much thought, I then started to worry about thread sizes and spanner sizes. There was some comfort to be drawn from Bing, which suggested that there had only every been one thread size - at least for practical purposes - but there had been two spanner sizes - 9/16 of an inch and the slightly larger 15mm.

Given the way pedals are organised, you need a special pedal spanner rather than a more regular spanner, adjustable or otherwise. But I did not seem to own such a thing, and I have only ever owned cheap ones. So, in the interest of not taking chunks out of my hands, I decided to invest in a posh one from the USA which could do both sizes. A serious tool which was unlikely to crumple under stress. Made by Park Tool of Minnesota (reference 2) and sold by the splendidly named Biketart of Canterbury (reference 3), via Amazon.

Having just (re-)learned that pedals come as a pair, with a left hand pedal and a right hand pedal, with the thread of one going clockwise and of the other anticlockwise, I thought it wise to read the simple instructions (on the blue wrapper) about which way to turn things. After which, I was both surprised and pleased that the old pedals came off with very little bother - with the left pedal being easier, for some reason, than the right pedal. I even remembered to oil the threads before putting the new-to-me ones in, as per some instruction that Bing had turned up at some point.

As it happened my vintage pedals needed a 15mm spanner, so the 9/16 inch was not needed. But I had no way of finding that out - and you never know. I might need the smaller size next time.

With the point of the new pedals being that their flat rubber treads are much better suited to my walking shoes - which have ribbed soles which do not sit well on the metal prongs and spikes which come with most modern pedals. Of which I am now the proud owner of four pairs. Perhaps they are destined for the metal recycling part of our local tip.

The only odd thing, is that the inner bearing of the new pedals is open. Is this because something is missing, or is that how they are supposed to be? Now oiled, in any event.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/trooley-418.html.

Reference 2: https://www.parktool.com/.

Reference 3: https://www.biketart.com/.

A morality tale

In the course of watching an episode of series 2 of 'Crown' last night, we were offered an interesting moral conundrum, in the context of the Duke of Windsor's activities in the first part of the second world war.

So we have a prominent family, prominent enough, for one reason or another, that it befits them to behave well and to be seen to behave well. Suppose now that one of the members of the family does something pretty awful. Does one bury the deed, hoping that by the time it surfaces no-one will care any more, or does one hang out one's dirty washing and get it over with?

I suppose the answer is that it all depends. But I do associate to the early modern custom in France of the amende honourable, which I first read about in a rather lurid book about Madame de Brinvilliers and the affair of the poisons, a huge scandal (involving both the Court and the wider aristocracy) in late seventeenth century France. In the amende, the offender was required to march through the streets to some suitable church, perhaps somewhere like Notre Dame in Paris, barefoot, dressed in a just a white shirt and carrying a large candle, there to do public penance and to receive absolution from the church. Part of the punishment, for posh people at least, was being required to appear in public without the expensive clothes which marked their station in life, fenced them off from the masses. Afterwards, one surrendered oneself to the civil authorities to be burned at the stake. The whole process surrounded with elaborate trappings and crowds. An updated version of the Greek scapegoat.

With the Brinvilliers occasion also being noticed by Madame de Sévigné in one of her letters, in which she made some witty remarks about all the good people who had been watching, perhaps for their own edification rather than their entertainment, taking down the last vestiges of the criminal, now a fine ash floating in the air around.

Note that is a process which requires the cooperation - if not the true repentance - of the criminal.

PS: this royal soap continues to surprise me with its savaging of the establishment of this country in the run-up to the white heat of technology offering from the other lot, led by one Harold Wilson. As opposed to Harold Macmillan. And one Antony Eden who boasts loudly - in this telling - of the number of PM's who had been to Eton, shortly before he was bundled out of office in the wake of the Suez fiasco. Not to say disaster, certainly for all those who got killed in the process.

Series 2, Episode V

On Sunday, Polly and her friends had a very big adventure and Grandpa marked the occasion by taking some photographs with his (Microsoft) telephone.

These snaps had still not arrived at Peppa Central getting on for forty eight hours later, despite some other, more recent, snaps having turned up.

Polly and her friends decided that some sort of action was needed. And so they mounted a sit down strike on top of the laptop which Grandpa uses to talk to Peppa Central. Their demand was 'no more playing with Bing and Cortana until our snaps have turned up'. And just to be on the safe side Baby Bear took the mouse into custody. You can't trust grown-ups to play fair.

PS: the Wikipedia page for one Michael Gazzaniga, psychologist and neuroscientist, will just have to wait. Probably not visible, even if you click to enlarge.

Reference 1: http://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/series-2-episode-iv.html.

Reference 2: https://www.peppapig.co.uk/. Peppa Central.

Group search key: wwwy.

Food packaging

Back at the beginning of lock-down, when panic buying of yeast had emptied the shelves of the stuff, I bought some commercial grade yeast from Italy, as noticed at reference 1.

Tomorrow, I plan to start to use the stuff, and being a little concerned that the packet seemed rock solid, I thought I had better take a look today. Was it like the sugar of old and one had to smash it up with a hammer before one could use it? With an oriental sugar hammer once having figured as a murder weapon on ITV3, in an episode of 'Poirot', but not being something we have handy in the kitchen drawer.

Opened up the packet, first piercing the wrapper with a point of a knife, to find that the rock solidity was the product of inflation. Pierce the wrapper - some kind of shiny plastic composite - out came the air and what one had left was yeast granules, very much like those I usually buy from Allinson's via Waitrose. Perhaps a little finer. We shall see how we get on tomorrow.

Ready supply in an Allinson's tub, held over for the purpose, balance in one of those plastic boxes with a blue plastic seal running around the inside of the fold of the lid. Hopefully it will do well enough in there, in the dark and cool of the cupboard under the stairs, for the next twenty five batches or so. That is to say half a year or so.

PS: I had at first thought 'Midsomer Murders' and I could picture in my mind's eye Barnaby Mark.II gleefully finding the thing. Then I had doubts and turned to 'Poirot', with Bing's first hit on the search term poirot+sugar+hammer being reference 2. Clever things these search engines.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/04/batch-556.html.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mrs_McGinty%27s_Dead.

Pique

Back in 2014, I was helped to a tweet of a peregrine falcon on top of what used to be the West Park Hospital water tower, an important event noticed at reference 1.

Since then, a correspondent has reported on them from time to time, most recently by way of a snap of falcon and chicks. Slightly piqued that my telephone would have been pretty hopeless at snapping such a thing so far up the tower, I thought to try an experiment.

Place the monocular I usually use to confirm indoor tweets on top of a glass of water (for extra ballast), pointing out into the garden. Place the fish-eye over the aperture of the monocular and click. Try tapping the appropriate bit of screen for focus and try again. The result was rather better than I was expecting. Note the circular rim of the eyepiece top and bottom of the snap.

I have not yet worked out why we have a reflection showing - one does not get that with a Mark.I eyeball.

Perhaps the next step is to make a contraption - of wood, naturally - which will hold the telephone up against the monocular in such a way that I can use the two things as one.

Reference 1: https://psmv2.blogspot.com/2014/05/wartocracy-resumed-or-wartological-tweet.html.

A Majestic promotion

A few week's ago Mr. Majestic (on perhaps his computer writing on his behalf) sent me an enthusiastic email about a small lot of fine German wine - a 2006 Erdener Treppchen Riesling Auslese from Mosel - which he had managed to lay his hands on. Special recommendation! Buy now while the stock lasts! I don't usually respond to emails of this sort, but on this occasion, being fond of Riesling - I even used to drink the stuff in that mainly French establishment called Terroirs - I did, and bought six of them - plus six of the tried and trusted Villa Maria sauvignon blanc.

Yesterday, having previously noticed the arrival of the stuff at reference 1, we gave it a go as accompaniment to our roast leg of (New Zealand) lamb. Both sweet and weak but we rather liked it. Pretty colour in the old cut glass. Perhaps helped along by a spot of the 'Favour' noticed at reference 2 to get going, by way of an apéritif. The last bottle of this last, as it happens.

The oldest wine we have drunk for a bit, dating as it does from 2006, and it even had a cork. And was not even dear. We wondered how it was that the bureaucrats of Brussels - the people that our hirsute leader loves to hate - did not get around to insisting that German white wines were put in standard bottles with screw tops, rather than these awkwardly tall bottles with corks.

Plenty of action on the Internet, and it does seems that this Dr. Hermann is a real wine grower, not a figment of some blender and wholesaler's imagination, but it took a few clicks for Google to discover reference 3, presumably because there is more or less nothing there. Just enough to be sure that it is the right people.

PS: for some reason the relevant Microsoft data centres are on a go-slow today and it took nearly 24 hours for this snap to move from my telephone to my laptop. Usually much faster than this.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/workers-of-world-unite.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/still-life-with-bottles.html.

Reference 3: http://weingut-drhermann.de/. Work in progress.

Whitworth's Spice of Life Cookery Book

This being an Internet image of the recipe book that BH bought around 1970. Her copy having been much used, much annotated and now being rather battered. I even think, from time to time, of buying her a new one, new to her that is, but I think that would rather spoil things.

A book that gets mentioned from time to time in these pages as can be seen at, for example, reference 1. A book which talks about Whitworth's flours and Whitworth's dried fruits (for example, sultanas) and nuts (for example, almonds).

As often, the apostrophe provides a bit of interest. This book is old enough to still sport the apostrophe and I seem to have been careful to use one in the blog. So blog search for 'whitworth' finds things, while search for 'whitworth's' draws a blank. While google search for 'whitworth's' tells me that it has actually searched for 'whitworths', while giving me the option of searching again for what I had actually asked for. And when I do that I get all kinds of Whitworth's, including one Sir Joseph Whitworth, the (armaments) engineer who, inter alia, founded the Whitworth Gallery in Manchester, to be found at reference 2. No connection with the flour or dried fruit people that I can see.

The flour and dried fruit people that we knew under the name of Whitworth's has been rebranded Whitworths and appears to have moved sideways into the dried fruit based snacks and sweets market, dumping flour somewhere along the way. Grazing snacks and on the go snacks.

But there are still Whitworth's into flour, as can be seen at reference 4. Is this a different lot, a different branch - or did what we used to know as Whitworth's break up into its constituent divisions, perhaps as a result of some family feud, the sort of family feud which pops up on ITV3 from time to time. One lot want to modernise and the other lot want to hang onto the heritage. Often precipitated by the mysterious death of the principal, of the head of the family.

I then move onto hunting the book down. Perhaps I will buy a replacement after all. Asking Bing for 'whitworth+recipe+book+pink' produces a whole lot of pictures of pink cakes and pink cook books - but not this one. While asking Google for 'whitworth+recipe+book' turns up a much more heterogenous collection, including various versions of the cook book I was looking for, amongst a selection of others. Including the very one, snapped above. Although when I click on it, I get taken to Amazon who only offers the image posted previously at reference 5. While reference 6 includes an early sketch for the present post.

Abebooks offers me a 2/6 version, as opposed to the 3/0 paid by BH, from 1940, so a few years older than ours, for nearly £20 from a store in Canada. A store which says the book came from the very place where Whitworth Bros are to be found now, that is to say Wellingborough. From which we deduce there was a split.

Comparing the price hike with inflation over the period is left as an exercise for the interested reader.

Reference 1: https://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.com/search?q=whitworth.

Reference 2: https://www.whitworth.manchester.ac.uk/.

Reference 3: https://whitworths.co.uk/.

Reference 4: https://www.whitworthbros.ltd.uk/.

Reference 5: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2016/07/more-whitworths.html.

Reference 6: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2016/07/royal-rhubarb.html.

Bribery and corruption

I read today in the FT that Mr. and Mrs. Netanyahu are charged with receiving gifts, including hundreds of thousands of dollars in Partagas cigars and pink Dom Pérignon champagne, in return for favours. Perhaps tweaking the regulatory regime applicable to a donor's big business. Which struck me as a very curious form of bribery. I have heard of tins of tuna fish amounting to currency in our prisons now that the use of tobacco has declined and might well be nominally forbidden, but cigars and champagne in the wider world is a new one.

I used to smoke fancy cigars myself from time to time and have never come across this particular brand - which is in itself curious, as Bing tells me it is one of two world leading brands. He also tells me that they are rather strong, so maybe they would not suit. And that they come in at upwards of £20 each, not that unreasonable for a once a week activity. The champagne looks rather dearer at £150 a bottle for a decent one and possibly a lot more for a good one. Even so, one would need to get through a lot of the stuff to tot up hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Perhaps the Israeli parliament building has a king size, super luxury smoking lounge, complete with dancing girls and so on and so forth. Perhaps a version of the fancy smoking lounge which I had thought was part of the offering at the Arts Club in Dover Street - or at least would be when it is open again. A place which has doormen in top hats and very expensive cars parked outside. Not to be confused with the Mayfair Club in the same street - of references 1 and 2 - as I did earlier today; a place intended for the young rather than for the rich. But sadly, while the Arts Club is clearly very grand, I can't find the smoking lounge on their web site (at reference 3) any more.

Reference 1: https://www.guestlistspot.com/london.

Reference 2: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/03/science-of-thrills.html.

Reference 3: https://www.theartsclub.co.uk/.

Express pre-fab

The express pre-fab in the next road continues to make slow but steady progress, with what was left of the scaffolding having gone by the time of our visit yesterday. And the piles of building stuff out front seems to be going down rather than up.

This morning's wonder is about landscaping. Does the no doubt generous price tag for this most desirable property include getting the garden fixed up before you move in? Turves and potted plants from Chessington Garden Centre? Or will they get the serious truck which has been delivering compost, top-soil or something to a house just a few houses down from our own?

Clearly a well-heeled area, as asking for topsoil suppliers in Surrey turns up lots of people, offering a good range of bulk materials for the garden. For example, the people at reference 3. Bulk being the keyword here, as it takes a quite a few good lorry loads to transform a garden full of our sterile brown clay to something more gardener friendly. Something which we have not attempted.

PS: keywords to cover my failure to mark the pre-fab series in a consistent way. And with the blog search feature being rather literal, unlike google search proper.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/04/series-1-episode-x.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/ewell-village-anti-clockwise-adapted.html.

Reference 3: https://www.buryhilltopsoilandlogs.co.uk/.

Keywords: express, Baufritz, prefab, pre-fab.

The eminence

In the olden days, the men in suits standing behind the throne, the éminences grises, really did wear suits. And more Lester Bowden (where the better off in Epsom used to buy their better suits, often from Germany) than Marks & Spencer. Showed a bit of respect for the people they were serving; all the different stakeholders.

Do we really want to be governed by someone who seems to make a perverse point of appearing like this in public? A picture turned up for me by the Financial Times, but BH tells it has also turned up on television.

Louis XIV of France may have been a bad thing, but he did understand that if you were a king, you were a king 24 by 7. You did not have a private life in the ordinary sense of the word - any more than leading members of our own royal family - some of whom still don't seem to get it. No free lunches.

You didn't even die in private. For which see reference 1.

However, checking at reference 2, I find that the original éminence grise also cut rather an odd figure, sporting drab clerical clothes in the highly dressed 17th century French Court. My defence is that my olden days are more past master Blair than cardinal Richelieu, when all proper people still wore suits to work.

PS: later: I associate now to the old Scottish custom whereby the barmen in entirely ordinary public houses always wore smart dark trousers and white shirt. The sort of trousers and shirt I might have worn to work, albeit with shirt worn open necked here.

Reference 1: https://www.spectator.com.au/2015/11/the-strange-death-of-louis-xiv/.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Éminence_grise.

Flour

From a correspondent in Lyme Regis.

A snap of the front window of Colyton Butchers, of Broad Street, Lyme Regis. Where, not only do we get provincial humour about pies, we also get what appears to be copious supplies of flour from the Town Mill. It clearly helps if you still have your own flour mill in town, reduces your dependence of the vagaries of the over-tuned and over-complicated supply chains we usually rely on nearer London - a pair of overs alleged by some newspapers to be responsible for the dearth of flour in regular shops.

A mill noticed at reference 1. My recollection of their wholemeal flour was that it made rather heavy bread, even when used at my usual 1:3 ratio of wholemeal to regular. I dare say I would have got on better with their regular.

While my last recorded use of the butcher was the purchase of the faggots noticed at reference 2.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/10/to-lyme-regis.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/02/savoury-ducks.html.

Reference 3: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/04/essential-supplies.html. My last purchase of flour, originating from a mill in Ponders End. The first batch made with it turned out rather well, as reported below.

Reference 4: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/the-sack.html.

Bright idea

I read recently that our MP's are finally getting around to realising that working inside an antique is maybe not the best way to conduct our country's business. That maybe a cod-public school debating chamber is not the best way to conduct our country's business. So why don't they decamp to that monument to that eminent parliamentarian, past master Blair, the big tent? The government could buy it back from whoever they flogged it off to, put both Houses of Parliament inside it, and then flog the present buildings off to Merlin Entertainments, who would run them as straightforward visitor attractions. Shows in the two debating chambers put on by otherwise resting luvvies 1500 every afternoon except Sundays and Bank Holidays. Full-on 'Black Rod' uniforms for hire by the hour. Discussion ongoing about whether it would be considered lèse-majesté to have state openings.

Reference 1: https://www.merlinentertainments.biz/.

Reference 2: https://www.theo2.co.uk/. The big tent.

More Romeo

Our pursuit of 'Romeo and Juliet', last noticed at reference 1, has continued with a now near complete viewing of the Thames Television version from 1976. Said to be the only filmed version with anything like the full text, which meant that we did not consume it all in one go. About four bites took us to the friar's speech very near the end, Act.V, Sc.III.

With Leonard Neame as Romeo & Ann Hasson as Juliet. They did pretty well, although I had never heard of either of them before. In fact, the only face I recognised (from Morse and other detective dramas of that kind) was Clive Swift as the Friar.

Neame was very convincing as a love-struck young blood, while Hasson was mostly convincing - playing some one ten years younger than she actually was - although sometimes her real age came through, rather spoiling the illusion. Well supported by the rest of the cast. Done rather theatrically, with the director not finding it necessary to go for the full-on cinematic treatment. I suppose that this has the advantage of being a lot cheaper.

But, for perhaps the first time, we saw the point of it all, all those improbable speeches of the star crossed lovers. Of the (very necessary) counterpoint provided by the various scenes with menials. We saw that nudity was not needed to fire up the action.

I was struck by all these young bloods being the children of rich merchants. People in trade rather than proper people living off thousands of acres which had been in the family for ages. Perhaps a distinction that a Shakespearean audience would be alive to, with the established, landed aristocracy of their time having a very ambivalent attitude towards the newly emerging, monied sort.

I was also struck by the unnecessary death of Paris, whose only offense was to be involved in an arranged marriage to a girl with a sometimes violent and controlling father. Collateral damage, as it were, rather in the way of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern in Hamlet, who were caught up in action over which they had little control. Unusual deaths, in the sense that most Shakespearean deaths that I can bring to mind are necessary in one way or another. Including the person dying just being old, just running out of puff, of desire to live on. Perhaps not so unusual to a Shakespearean audience, to whom death was much closer, much more ever-present. Rather than usually being rather remote. Someone else, somewhere else.

A good outing. How long will it be before we are moved to have another go? To have another go with the Arden text?

PS: it so happens that I have just read in the NYRB, in a piece about the Augustan Roman poet known to us as Horace, that it was he who first proscribed the organisation of plays into five acts. A proscription serious Western playwrights have followed ever since. For two thousand years or so.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/a-lesson.html.

Reference 2: http://www.ulsteractors.com/. It turns out that Juliet came from Derry and is just about our age. Described here as 'missing, presumed retired', a nice phrase that I had not come across before.

Workers of the world unite!

I now have it on two accounts that the delivery vans which provide most of the day's interest in suburban roads in Epsom do around 170 drops on a round. Which my laptop makes 3.52941176 minutes a drop, if we allow a 10 hour day, without breaks and excluding travelling time to and from the round. I assume one round per driver per day. Vans might do more. While few of the vans seem to have driver's mates as well as drivers, which would speed things up a bit.

And just to make sure they keep up, the central computer seems to know exactly which drop the van is on and where it is. And providing the punter, that is to say me, with a nice little window in my email about delivery telling me all about how my wine - from Majestic - is getting on. Including a map pinpointing where the van has got to.

A van driver who does too many drops out of order is put on report the following morning.

Leaving one to wonder how much of the very modest charge that I incur on my purchase gets into the pocket of what looks like a hard-worked driver. After paying for management, collection from sender, distribution depots, vans and all the rest of it. Not least the IT, although I dare say that is just a commodity these days, more or less bought off the shelf.

Perhaps, given the present demand for home delivery, it is a drivers' market at the moment and they are getting decent wages for what could easily be a twelve hour day, front door to front door. If they are not, one would have hoped that the issue would have resurfaced - it was in the news for some reason that I forget a few years ago - which it has not, to my knowledge.

I should add that the wine did turn up on the day requested, in the two hour window I was given around 1000 this morning. Supplies of alcohol secure for another couple of weeks or so.

PS: the following morning I remembered about another group of workers on a production line, our general practitioners. I think the idea is that they are allocated a little over ten minutes to the patient, with the patients coming through their door at about that rate all through their shift, I suppose the half day. As well as being tiring, it must be a bit dispiriting at times.

Permitted fruit

At reference 1 I noticed various common ground covers which were not permitted in the newly cleared bed under the oak tree in our back garden. Some of the covers which are permitted are illustrated below.

Creeping jenny

Vigorous growth in the spring. Covered in small yellow flowers in the late spring, when it is rather flashy. A bit quieter in the summer and can be damaged by too much sun.

Stonecrop

Possibly John Creech Sedum, aka sedum spurium 'John Creech', Dragon's Blood Stonecrop and Two Row Stonecrop. But if it is I don't remember all the red flowers which are said to appear early summer. There are none now. But whatever it is, vigorous and hardy. Covers the ground and does not need a lot of attention.

Wild strawberries

In this country, a woodland plant, tolerant of shade. Berries small and edible. Not to be confused with the famous Swedish film of the same name. Some cognoscenti distinguish wild or wood strawberries (fragaria vesca) from alpine strawberries (fragaria alpina), but most garden centres don't bother. Tolerated rather than encouraged in our garden. Dies back in the winter.

Violets

Wikipedia tells me at reference 2 that there are lots of different sorts of violets, violas and pansies. But beyond it being likely that those snapped above are some kind of wild violet, no idea which kind. Tolerated rather than encouraged in our garden. Dies back in the winter.

The final decision has yet to be taken.

Reference 1: http://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/forbidden-fruit.html.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viola_(plant).

Tweet?

A few days ago I thought I heard a cuckoo, but thought this improbable and decided that it was a dove or a pigeon. Then this evening, around 2115, I heard what I thought really was a cuckoo, calling maybe half a dozen times, from what sounded like our back garden. But that bit is not very reliable as the double glazing does funny things with the apparent direction of sound.

We last heard cuckoos for sure on the moor above Holne, on the eastern side of Dartmoor in Devon. Noticed, inter alia, at reference 2.

And in the distant past we used to hear them on Epsom Common. But then there is reference 1: maybe there really are cuckoos out there, now, all the way from Africa.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/05/phantom-cuckoos.html. Another possible tweet, just about this time last year.

Reference 2: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/05/tweets.html. The Devon tweets.

Reference 3: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_cuckoo.

Reference 4: https://www.birdspot.co.uk/first-cuckoo-2020. A cuckoo is listed at Reigate Heath at the beginning of the month, less than 20km away.

Trolley 418

A M&S food hall trolley was captured at the bottom of the new Wetherspoon's smoking terrace, shortly after the start of today's Ewell by-pass anti-clockwise. Not far to take it to the front door of M&S, queue minded by M&S staff, so hopefully it will be taken in. Didn't take it around to the stack entrance because I hadn't got my keys and couldn't lock my bike. Plus I was more likely to get up close and personal with someone.

So trolley life has resumed, but I expect it will be a rather halting resumption.

A few minutes before, over the Meadway roundabout, which had been sheared, as per reference 2. A pity.

There seemed to be three stalls in the Thursday market, complete with elaborate queueing barriers - of a brand new to me. Perhaps the barrier people are clearing out their warehouses, just like the flour people.

Next stop the bicycle shop in Upper High Street. Can you do me some pedals better suited to cycling in regular shoes, with ribbed soles, than the pedals I have now, suited to cycling with toe clips? Preferably the chunky rubber affairs of my childhood, a small pair of which was to be seen on a child's bicycle in the window. No. Supply chain disrupted. Try again in a few weeks.

Next stop Halfords next to Sainsbury's at Kiln Lane - where a protected counter had been erected in the front entrance. Same question. No, although they did at least have some pedals other than the ones I already have. Try and find them on our web site and then book a slot to have them fitted. Which I might get around to - except that it probably means hanging around Kiln Lane for a while, with the Sainsbury's café shut, otherwise handy for a tea with newspaper.

Back onto East Street and carried on towards the Organ crossroads. A Sainsbury's trolley a few yards along - not captured because too far to walk with a bicycle, which I had found surprisingly awkward earlier.

I then moved from pedals to red flowers, which saw me home. Previously noticed at reference 3.

PS 1: regarding the flour people, today's story was that it was a packaging problem. Something about the 1.5kg paper bags being made in China and supply having been disrupted. And no Mr. Dyson of the paper bag world raring to charge into the breach.

PS 2: Halfords did not have what I wanted. But a little time with Bing turned up just the thing on ebay, described as 'Vintage road bike Union flat pedals' and even with postage a lot cheaper than most of the Halfords offerings. However, one catch is that they are second hand, so they might not be in the best condition. Another might be that the thread is vintage too and does not fit my crank. Another might be that I fail to get my current pedals off. Full report in due course.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/03/trolley-417.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/ewell-by-pass.html.

Reference 3: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2020/05/red-flower.html.

Red flower

I have been seeing distinctive red flowers in verges in the roads on the Ewell by-pass anti-clockwise, although having been reminded of them this morning, the only one to follow was on the crest of the bridge over the railway line at Ewell West, not a good place to stop.

Then in our own road, a few houses down from us, two of them had what seemed to be the right red flower in their front gardens, with one of them being snapped left.

BH believes their to be common at the seaside, which fits with their having a slightly succulent look about them. But no idea as to name.

Google image search turns up phlox, which BH is sure is quite wrong. But in among the collection of similar images we have red valerian, the Wikipedia page for which seems to answer, despite the close-up of the flower not being quite right. Not to be confused with regular valerian which has interesting medicinal uses, possibly to be found in Grape Tree, certainly in Holland & Barrett.

Reference 1: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Centranthus_ruber.

Blowing hot and cold

At close yesterday, I read a rather depressing note from MIT about the difficulty of getting contact tracing going in the US. All sorts of challenges, not least our tendency, having been trained by years of nuisance phone calls from parts east, of putting the phone down when one recognises neither voice nor number. Made more depressing by my doubts about our government's ability to overcome comparable challenges over here.

Then, this morning, a much more optimistic note from Ray Kurzweil about how the development of anti-viral drugs and vaccines is being massively accelerated by the arrival of super computers and AI on the scene. See reference 1.

Kurzweil has long been optimistic about the good uses to which large computers can and will be put: perhaps he will be right on this occasion - so getting Donald - and us - off the hook.

PS: as it happens, I had personal experience of putting the phone down yesterday, when a delivery driver phoned me up to ask, without much preliminary, where I lived. With the delivery of my English cheese being delayed a day as a result. But at least the parcel did not get lost somewhere in the margins of the DPD depot at Feltham. A DPD operation which is supported by heavy duty IT - but IT which does not always recover well from error or mischance. A depot which comes up loud and clear on gmaps - just a stone's throw away from the interestingly named Intelligence Collection Group & Defence Geographic Centre, presumably the third millennium name for the army Mapping and Charting operation (MCE) which used to work out of a collection of (wartime?) huts in this very same Feltham. Not so very far from the famous young offenders institution. Has it been sold off to someone in the private sector? Perhaps from somewhere east of Suez? Perhaps somewhere hot? Do the Tories still believe in selling off stuff which even they might think was critical national infrastructure? While Corbyn's instinct would probably have been to close the place down as a relic of cold-war paranoia.

Reference 1: https://www.kurzweilai.net/wired-ai-powered-biotech-can-help-deploy-a-vaccine-in-record-time.

Reference 2: https://www.dpd.co.uk/.