Sunny Afternoon

As Ms Wuggle has indicated in her post of a few hours previously, we are not now intending to visit Australia this September. We had intended to come over for the World SF Convention in Melbourne -- only the fourth time the Worldcon has been held in Australia -- over the first weekend of the month, which would have provided an opportunity to meet up with lots of people we haven't seen for some years before going on to family-related stuff in the rest of the month; but, as Judith has related, the family-related stuff has fallen through one item after the other, leaving only the Worldcon. Which unfortunately isn't enough of a draw on its own.

Not visiting Australia in September, but deferring a visit until April next year, removes quite a lot of pressure in a number of areas. For one thing, it means that I won't be using my entire annual leave allowance in this calendar year, and will be able to carry an unused portion forward into the next. For another, inevitable slippages in the timetables for the various pieces of legislation that I'm shepherding through -- coupled with uncertainty about how the new government wants to see things done -- means that my absence in September could have been a bit awkward. For a third, we won't be absent during the first part of the harvest season in the garden and on the allotment, so can both rethink our planting plans and not have to worry about tasking someone else to look after the weeding and watering duties.

But, speaking of gardening: today was bright and warm; utterly cloudless (until early evening, when a thin skein blew in from the west -- and carried straight on; the night sky is a clear dark blue) and with temperatures several degrees above those normal for this time of year. A bit oppressive for Ms Wuggle (she says -- even though she grew up in the tropics) but just dandy from my perspective (I strip down to next to nothing and stretch out to "toast my buns", as we say here).

I also took a few photographs, which are below.

Change of plans

Things just weren't working out for popping down to see y'all around the SF Worldcon in Sep '10 -- so we have decided to save up our long holiday allowance and pennies to come over next April for kellie's matrimonial do -- when Leith and Jule's new baby should be available to say hello to and they should be settled down in one spot; when Z&P should be at home in Sydney for us to visit their new extended house (well, new to us); when Ros is clear of her final teacher training demands, and when Maureen isn't having to settle a new maternity leave person into her team at work. Not to mention volcanic ash randomly grounding flights and predictions of another eruption next door. Fingers crossed everything will work out better for a visit then!And we might be able to do a bit more catching up with Z,P and co while they're up this part of the world.

So -- us hanging about not getting around to actually booking flight tickets or Melbourne hotel all turns out to have been the most sensible strategy in the end.

Meanwhile, in these parts -- fine hot sunny weekend. Lots of gardening for me and DIY for JN. I've just planted 5 tomato plants out in the back garden (Gardeners Delight (2, red cherry toms), Tigerella (stripy yellow/red), Black Plum, Big Rainbow, and planted basil around their feet. I'm re-working the next door front garden I look after. It had climbers around the walls and fence (jasmine, virginia creeper henryana) but they'd got out of hand -- so have been all ripped out (though no doubt bits will have escaped to re-sprout). I've put in a deep velvety red William Shakespeare rose which is supposed to have a very strong real old-fashioned rose scent, and a stripy red-and-white Rosa Mundia against the front fence, with various pretty flowers going in below them.

Lots of flowers doing their stuff: end of forget-me-not season, foxgloves and roses just coming out, columbines, mourning widow, sweet cicely in full swing. Swifts arrived back from Africa last week -- just in time for the 'aerial plankton' of aphids that they feed on. And 'Springwatch' programmes start up for the next couple of weeks on TV, with cameras watching baby birds hatching. We just had the first fluffy baby great tit of the year -- sitting on the fence quivering its wings to be fed by its mum/dad. Aaahhh!

Hi - there

Just a quick post before zipping off to Uni.
Everything here is ticking along as normal. Kids zooming to and from school and then to sporting or social engagements. Mark is back home - not sure for how long - but we will enjoy him while we have him back.
The weather is sunny - as usual for Perth - it would probably be good to get some rain soon though.
Uni is busy - learning lots more about teaching maths and social studies and things I thought I would never have to think about again once I left school.
Exams in two weeks, a couple of assignment to complete, then my last long prac. and I have finished - officially a primary teaching (assuming all goes well).
I spoke to Zena on the weekend - and it seems that wedding preparations are in full swing now. Lots of talk of flowers, music, dresses and that sort of thing. All very exciting - but I think if I was getting married again I would just have a party on the beach for whoever wanted to come!
Anyway, best go.
I will have to download some of the hundreds of photos in my camera and post them to the site. Soon...

Pursuing the Cultural Programme

Blimey, but it's a long time since anyone posted anything here! To me, then, falls the, er, "honour" of catching everyone up with what we've been doing....

....except that I can't actually be arsed to trawl back through the past four months looking for the highlights. The rain fell, the sun arrived, the temperature went up, the sun went away again, it got colder, the volcano spewed more ash, und so weiter. Then, just as the gardening was about to swallow us up, Judith and I sat down with our diaries to map out a cultural programme for the next few months, to ensure that we at last get to visit the various places in and around London that we know we wish to see (and which have been on our lists of things to see for, like, totally forever, dude).

First up, a couple of weekends ago was a visit to the Linley Sambourne House and the Leighton House Museum, both in Kensington (follow the links for more information). The former is accessible only by guided tour, which had to be booked in advance and required an early start (on a Sunday); once inside, you realise immediately why only small numbers are allowed in at any one time, because it thoroughly exemplifies the Victorian fashion for filling one's home with unbelievable quantities of clutter. (The amount of dusting that would have been required to keep it all clean, in an age when open coal fires were standard, is perhaps best left to the most overactive of imaginations.) The Leighton House, by contrast, is much larger and airier -- purpose-built by and for the artist Frederic Leighton rather than a redecorated mid-terrace property, and emptier because his sisters (the philistines) sold off much of his art collection after his death. The date of our visit, however, was chosen to fit in with the recent re-opening of the house following its renovation and the lending back of pieces from his collection by the institutions which had bought them. (It must seem rather empty without these displays.)

Then, since we were in the area, we went to see the State Apartments at Kensington Palace, although much of the building is currently closed to the public while it (and its grounds) are refurbished as a full-on "visitor experience" (yeuch) in time for the 2012 Olympics (the quid pro quo presumably being that the tourist dollars hoovered up by the refurbished Palace will be a small recompense for the money squandered on the Games. Hem hum).

The Sunday just past we ventured further west, to see Kew Bridge Steam Museum and Kew Palace. The name of the former is potentially misleading: it has a short stretch of narrow-gauge railway on-site, but the building's origin was as a house for the beam engines which pumped water around Victorian London. The beam engines are still in situ, and have been joined by other steam pumping engines from around the country. On the day of our visit, there was a static display of old fire appliances in the museum forecourt, including (of course) a couple of Victorian-era horse-drawn steam pumps. None of this was of much interest to Judith, so she went off across the river to Kew Gardens ahead of me, leaving me to potter about taking photographs of all and sundry for another hour.

Kew Palace can't be visited independently of the Botanic Gardens, although they require separate tickets; it's a large house rather than a proper palace, and was first opened to the public in 1898. For much of the time we've lived in London, however, it seems to have been closed for one reason or another -- it was closed on my first visit to the Gardens, way back in 1990 -- and for the ten years 1996-2006 was shut entirely for a thoroughgoing restoration, which inter alia has put on display parts of the underlying fabric, showing brick and wood back to the seventeenth century: most interesting. (But the voice-overs from hidden speakers in several of the rooms, by actors pretending to be members of George III's family, are a bit annoying.)

Following the visit to the Palace, we spent a couple of hours meandering about the Gardens, which might have been more enjoyable if it hadn't kept trying to rain. By accident or design, we ended up in the Palm House shortly before the clouds were finally rent asunder, sending people scurrying into shelter in flurries of weatherproof anoraks and inappropriate summer footwear. I was up in the Palm House's gallery taking photographs as the rain started, and one could certainly hear it on the glass -- which, it turns out, has a few leaks here and there.

The journey home required a long wait for a bus, about which the less said the better. But below are some photographs of the Palm House, inside as well as out.

The Big Freeze

It never snows in London, they say; except, of course, when it does. The snow never lasts long in London, they say; except, of course, when it does.

My photographic record shows that the first snows fell on the evening of 21 December 2009, half-an-hour or so before we were about to head out for a pre-Christmas drinks party at a neighbour's. Much of that snow had melted away by Christmas Day itself, although the weather remained bitterly cold; snow fell again on the night of 5-6 January 2010, and (thanks to road traffic and the press of feet on the pavements) has now turned mostly to ice.

Except in our garden, where we haven't ventured at all other than to top up the bird feedery every morning and replace the block of the ice in the birds' water dish with, er, actual water. I do this every morning about 7.15pm, when I get back with the newspaper; by the time I set off for work, two hours later, the water dish has developed a new skin of ice, which requires to be flushed off and replaced with new water. (If I don't do it, Judith does. Even if I do, she then has to go out into the garden later in the day and repeat the exercise.)

The surface of the pond froze over before the first snows fell in December. It has stayed frozen over ever since, and if anything the ice -- although I haven't actually measured it -- seems to have become thicker and thicker. Snow accumulates, animal tracks appear on the surface, if you didn't know it was a pond you wouldn't recognise it at all. Here are a couple of pictures to show you what a north London garden looks like in the snow you total Aussie wimps, you.

Blogging our Christmas Holiday (part 6)

Another walk today, in better weather, although in the last hour of daylight, as the sun sank towards the horizon, it turned very chilly indeed. But we reached our goal, the lake in the northwestern corner of Tottenham Cemetery, and having bought some bread along the way did not disappoint the ducks and geese -- who clearly expect to be fed by visitors, since their response to the appearance of humans is to come straight over to them. Almost all of them, anyway; the tufted ducks didn't seem to be interested, and nor did some smaller, more elusive waterfowl which Judith theorised from our copy of Jonathan Elphick's The Birdwatcher's Handbook might be teal.

Other species sighted were Canada geese (which, like the Canada geese in Lordship Rec, come right up to you and peck in the direction of your fingers), mallard, coots (which also came over for some bread), and moorhens (which didn't). There were also what we think might be a couple of hybrid species: three examples of a cross between mallard and some sort of domestic duck, which had grey heads, a white collar, brown chests and mostly white wings and bodies (although one of them had some black stripes on the wings); and one goose which might have been a cross between a Canada goose (same size and colour of body) and a white or a greylag goose (white head on a shorter and thicker neck, which was also white), with a beak more like that of a duck's and pronounced pinkish-orange feet. One of the photographs here shows that goose alongside the Canada geese, for the purposes of comparison.

The other photographs show Judith casting bread upon the waters; a scrum of mallard ducks fighting for a piece of bread (this photograph also shows two of the hybrid ducks referred to earlier): and a Canada goose which appears to be blind in its left eye, or so we deduced from the fact that it didn't seem to respond to anything happening on its left-hand side and the curious manner in which it kept twisting its neck to keep things in view. Ordinarily, a bird with such a deformity would not long survive in the wild; the fact that this one is living in Tottenham Cemetery and receives food from visitors as well as whatever it can find for itself is presumably what keeps it alive.

Blogging our Christmas Holiday (part 5)

We went for a "post-prandial" walk today, aiming to do a grand circuit of Downhills Park -- Lordship Rec -- Tower Gardens Estate -- Tottenham Cemetery -- Bruce Castle Park, but the weather was against us. The day had begun bright and clear, but as we breakfasted clouds began rolling in from the northwest, and by the time we set out a chill wind was picking up. In the open spaces of Lordship Rec, it was a disincentive to continue -- so after donating all the bread we'd taken with us to the geese and ducks on the small lake in the Rec (instead of saving some up for the coots and moorhens on the Cemetery lake), we returned home.

(A couple of hours later, of course, the sky cleared again and the wind died away. Bloody typical.)

We'd also taken some peanuts for the squirrels in Downhills Park. Despite being notionally wild creatures, the Downhills Park squirrels are so habituated to park users that they practically come up and mug you for food -- and will happily take it straight from your hand, as the first two pictures here show. (The bare hand is mine; the gloved hand is Judith's.) Come to that, the geese at Lordship Rec will take bread straight from your hands as well....but then they're much bigger than the squirrels, and probably routinely beat up dogs and toddlers who get in their way. So here's a photograph of one of them taking bread from my (gloved) hand.

Back home again, we have now completed the second jigsaw and embarked on the third. For dinner this evening: a leg of pork, roasted, with a similar range of vegetables to that on Christmas Day.

Blogging our Christmas Holiday (part 4)

We completed the Hadrian's Wall jigsaw earlier today -- and, after a brief pause to admire our handiwork (the images on many of the pieces were so formless that for parts of it we had to resort to the "brute force" method of trying every remaining piece in turn to get a fit for the slot we wanted to fill) broke it up to make the space to start another one. This second jigsaw -- shown in the second of these photographs -- is one of a batch of five I picked up outside a house at the top of our street, where they had obviously been put out in the hope that someone would freecycle them rather than seeing them thrown away. As you might be able to see from the picture, we got a head start on this jigsaw because it hadn't been completely broken up after last being made, so that whole sections could be lifted from the box. Yes, that's definitely cheating....but on the other hand, only two of the five jigsaws I freecycled came in their original boxes; the other three were in an old shoe box, sorted into three plastic bags with no accompanying images to show what they might be. Weeks of fun, I'm sure!

We might not get around to making those three jigsaws this holiday. So instead here's a picture of the 1960s retro-chic lava lamp that Judith bought me; pulsating close-ups of hot wax action! And to finish, a picture of Judith about to commence our Christmas dinner yesterday evening: roast duck with our own potatoes, parsnips and jerusalem artichokes, plus bought-in carrots and brussels sprouts (our own plants failed to produce this year), with home-made gravy, cranberry sauce and sage-and-onion stuffing. And plenty of red wine to accompany it all. Yum!

Blogging our Christmas Holiday (part 3)

Some more photographs of our activities -- Judith working on the jigsaw; Judith with her new Barbie doll (a 50th anniversary Barbie edition,which is apparently slightly different in shape from the original -- smaller breasts, wider hips, longer legs -- and therefore won't fit the wardrobe of her existing, original Barbie doll); and our Christmas cake, with faux Christmas scene. Yes, that is a plastic donkey!

Blogging our Christmas Holiday (part 2)

Later this evening, after a drinks party at a neighbour's, we'll be doing what we usually do every Christmas, and breaking out a jigsaw. In this case, it's one I bought in the National Trust shop at Housesteads on Hadrian's Wall in May, showing Milecastle 39 with Greenlee Lough beyond it. For comparison, here's a photograph of the jigsaw's box lid with a panorama I took of very much the same view while walking the wall from Steel Rigg to Housesteads. (Housesteads Fort itself is just behind the clump of trees in the far background.) On the right of the photograph, the leading members of the group we were with are descending the hill towards the milecastle; Judith is second from the left.

Blogging our Christmas Holiday (part 1)

We went to the allotment earlier this afternoon, to dig up some parnsips and jerusalem artichokes to go with the duck we'll be having for dinner tomorrow. (This was of course after I'd been to the consumeroid horror that is the local Tesco to stock up on wine -- red to accompany the duck, white for other times -- and beer. And various assortments of nuts -- nuts are so a Christmas thing in the UK.) Although the temperatures are back above freezing, there's still plenty of ice and frozen snow on the ground, not to mention great thick caps of ice on the water tanks and the pond. (The surface of the pond could at first sight almost be mistaken for a sheet of glass: an illusion attributable to the top centimetre or so of the ice having melted and the light being reflected from the ice layer it covers. We hope that any frogs hibernating in there will survive the freeze.)

A photograph of the reflecting pond is one of the images displayed here. The second is of an ice sculpture formed partly (we theorise) by freezing water sloshing out of some plastic basins as they toppled from where they'd been stacked, and partly by a leak from the tap attached to the water tank, where a nut that perhaps needs another quarter-turn to tighten it fully is allowing a thin spray of water to jet out.

The other two photographs are of the real actual wonky-shaped parsnips that we get from our allotment. This wonkiness is due to the stoniness of the soil, which prevents them producing the nice straight thin cones preferred by supermarkets. We could, if we felt so inclined, sieve the soil minutely to remove the stones, like one of our fellow allotmenteers does for his parsnips; but (a) crop rotation means that we never grow parsnips in the same bed every year and would therefore have to minutely sieve them all, and (b) sieving of that minuteness bespeaks a level of tidiness of which not even I am capable. Well, actually, I probably am capable of it....had I nothing else to do at the allotment but sieve stones.

Deep and Crisp and Even

You may have heard that it's been snowing in parts of the UK (in northern Europe generally, in fact), causing immense disruption to the transport system. Luckily, we haven't had to travel anywhere (except for a visit to my parents in Lyme Regis this weekend just past), so haven't been majorly affected.

(All those travellers moaning and complaining about the interruptions to their rail and air services should have lived through the winter of 1962-63 (I think it was -- that or 1963-64), when the snow fell in December and stayed until March. We were then living in the village of Porton, outside Salisbury, and for several days at a time couldn't get out of the village at all; the roads were that impassable. Modern yoof of today -- don't know they're born, stuffing themselves with junk food, surfing for naughty pictures on the internet, etc. etc.. Hanging's too good for them -- string 'em up anyway -- where was I?)

Snow doesn't tend to stay very long when it falls in London, because the "heat island" effect means that the temperatures very rarely fall below freezing. But below freezing temperatures are what we have now, because the conditions are almost totally windless, meaning that the air mass which has moved down across the North Sea from Scandinavia has not been shifted out again by the westerlies which normally determine our weather. The snow which has fallen has therefore stayed; where it has melted at all, it has turned to ice (visible and invisible), making the roads and pavements very slippery. It is therefore possible that we will be having a white Christmas here in London, and the bookmakers who take bets on this sort of thing every year will be paying out big time. (Ho ho. Or ho ho ho, as Father Christmas might say.)

These photographs were taken yesterday evening, at around 6.00pm, a few minutes after the snow had ceased falling. (It began as cold rain about 3.00pm and then turned to sleet before falling as snow at around 4.00pm.) They show the views from our windows, and from the streets outside, as we headed off for a drinks party at a neighbour's. The images look brighter than the conditions actually were, because I was using the camera's "night landscape" setting with a long exposure time; that accounts for some of the blurring.

Adventures with plumbing (to be continued)

Adventures with plumbing

1) Kitchen floor all awash, like a lake, when JN padded down in still-dark on Tuesday morning. Anguished yells! Panic! Water dripping from the ceiling light -- though not causing it to short out. Must be coming from the bathroom above, though no leaking visible there. Central heating pipes running between the joists seemed an alarmingly probably suspect. So I call the number pinned on kitchen notice board for a friendly local plumber, who is immediately on his way, while JN sets bucket to catch the dripping and mops up the lake from the lino. Dave the plumber's first step is to drain off the central heating. Then checking upstairs, he finds in the bathroom that its a little silvery hose that runs between toilet cistern and bowl has sprung a leak, with the water soaking down through the rubber-backed carpet until, presumably, it followed the electricity wiring down through the ceiling below.

Dave has replacement little silvery hose in his van, and in a trice the leak is fixed. Two days later, though, we still have the bathroom carpet peeled back and draped over a couple of wastepaper bins so the floorboards and the carpet itself can dry out. They've lost all their sopping wet spots, but still definitely damp. We also have two of Dave's spanners, which he left behind, to be collected...

However: he told us that the pressure release valve (PRV) tucked behind the back our central heating boiler was not installed properly -- it doesn't release the water (or steam if it were running) in a swift 'pffft' as it should but (the note he left us says) 'water escapes from between PRV and expansion pipe'. So we ought to get that fixed. British Gas disclaims responsibility for incorrect installation beyond the 1-year guarantee period -- and will charge either just under £100 + £22 month 'homecare' package or a one-off £200 for doing the repair. The former only saves money if you call them out about 3 times a year. So next step: check with Worcester, the manufacturer, and see what they say, though installation error doesn't come down to them... get back to Dave for his rate for the job...

Meanwhile...

2) Bathroom extractor fan went kaput. Again. It was installed last year, and is still under 3 year guarantee. The firm that initially recommended it and installed it now says the wonderfully elegant spaceship-round (Ikon) has proved so unreliable that they aren't doing them any more. We bought a model that boasted a humidstat control, set off by moisture level, which rapidly broke down. Okay, I said after the third call-out to replace it, we can manage on just the pull-cord and timer. We got it set up to operate independent of the light circuit -- so the fan wouldn't start up every time the light was switched on, and could be run without switching on the light. And it ran okay for just over a year, then something blew. First call, Jim the electrician was sent out with a normal square ugly replacement extractor fan -- which would need a new and different shaped hole bored through our newly insulated bathroom wall, and which did not have a pull-cord control but could only be set up to run off the light switch. So he took it away, and the firm promised to replace with a new Ikon, with pull-cord and timer but no humidistat, with new 3-year guarantee. But when he unpacked it from its box here yesterday, they'd sent a model without the pull-cord and timer module.

What we have now is at least a sort-of working set-up: with the old timer+pullcord module re-installed and connected up to the light circuit, the fan will only go when the light switch is on, when it starts vaguely spinning. Then the pull-cord sets it going properly until the timer cuts out (and it goes back to vaguely spinning), or switching off the light instantly switches it off. But at least we can de-steam the bathroom without having to open the window to the winter air and traumatise my windowsill maidenhair ferns and orchid.

Seasonal observances

Just had a very busy three days!

Yesterday: 'Big Wave' pre-Copenhagen climate march, for which we duly dressed in blue. Joseph carried the Tottenham & Wood Green Friends of the Earth banner, and one of our bods had made herself a very fetching polar bear costume and sign saying 'Has anyone seen my habitat?' The news sites today say just 20,000 marched in London -- which seems impossibly low. It took 2 hours after the scheduled start time for our bit of the march to actually get moving, the same sort of delay as the million strong anti-Iraq march, or the 100-250,000 strong anti-nuclear marches. The whole of Piccadilly was definitely filled up by the march -- seems like there's a '0' missing from the official count.

Yesterday evening: local Civic Society Xmas dinner, at our local traditional country pub, the Ferry Boat, which sits on an island in the river Lea. JN is secretary, about 30 people. We took over one wing of their dining area, spread out at little four-person tables. Good tucker, then a communal lift home in Wendy's mini-van.

Friday evening: Wards Corner 'Winter Warmer' social, at what used to be the local Royal British Legion building, which has been taken over as a community centre called Tottenham Chances. That very day, the news came through that the Save Wards Corner campaign has been granted leave to take their appeal against a judicial review decision supporting the Council to the High Court. Entertainment featured a ukelele band, a cayley band (with a very dictatorial caller), an excellent bellydance trio (who borrowed the belly dance belt I wore along, as they were one short!), then a good Motown style singer -- whose set went on rather long. Not as much get up and dance time as at previous WCC socials. They'd sold very few tickets in advance, so were quite worried about numbers -- but it was packed out with people who paid up the higher 'on the door' price, and made a nice £800 profit to support the struggle. JN ended the evening fairly spectacularly inebriated -- I had to send a chap (the Civic Society chairman) in to retrieve him from the Mens WC, with various other blokes emerging looking highly amused... So at the Civic Society dinner, we were greeted by 'So you did get him home safely...' comments...

Thursday: TWG FOE Xmas meal, at an Indian restaurant in Wood Green -- all of us at one big table this time, next to a fountain with goldfish. Food was fine, jolly sociability, lift home with deputy leader of the local Council who is partner of our FOE Co-ordinator, who'd left her car parked in the official space marked for 'Leader of the Council'.

Quite a lot of overlapping people among all these different events -- Sue P (with whom I run plant stalls during the summer) and her chap Nick were the only people at all of them. Today: do shopping, hope the current sunshine dries the ground out enough for us to get to the allotment and dig up potatoes. Next week: I have a retirement party on Weds, JN has organised a 'thrashette' with his various girlfriends from work on Friday eve', Saturday is Friends of Tottenham Marshes Xmas social down at Picketts Lock on the Lea during the afternoon. The following weekend, we head for JN's parents at Lyme Regis, for his birthday. Plans for Xmas itself: eat, make jigsaws: we bought a Hadrians Wall jigsaw when we were up there in May, and the other day JN found a couple of plastic bags containing two jigsaws in their boxes and three jigsaws in plastic bags which no picture to show what they are.

Seasonal cheerios, etc....

What we're up to

1) Socio-cultural quota
We've had just one or two free weekends after the wind-down of the summer community events season -- and now the Xmas sociability is overtaking us, plus a bit of pre-Copenhagen CO2 action. Yesterday was food co-op and community cafe up at Lordship Rec/Broadwater Farm, then 'Passing shadows and Reflections' exhibition opening at Bruce Castle of photographs by our local notable wildlife photographer and founder of Friends of Tottenham Marshes David Cottridge -- abstract patterns and textures found in nature: lots of tree bark, lichen and the games water plays with reflections and light. This afternoon, there's an 'Open Studio' in Sylvia's big house a couple of streets away, for those of us living hereabouts who do arts and crafts to show what we do. Thursday is local Friends of the Earth Xmas meal (JN is treasurer and membership sec).

Friday is Wards Corner Winter Warmer -- fabulous fundraising knees-up with local bands, food etc -- do come along if you're in the vicinity!

Saturday there's the big climate march, followed by Totttenham Civic Society Xmas meal at the Ferry Boat Inn by the river and reservoirs. And the following Saturday is Friends of Tottenham Marshes Xmas social. Then we head to JN's parents in Lyme Regis the following weekend -- then back home to collapse for what we hope will be a nicely slothful Xmas at home.

2) Life aquatic
Just on two years ago, I took up swimming to counteract winter sloth and accumulation of insulating flab. Once I found that goggles, swim cap and ear plugs take the pain out of putting head under water, I've taken to it like a, err, fish to water, and finally mastered overarm (crawl, freestyle) and just recently, the modern 'wave' or dolphin breastroke -- though I still find it faster to keep head underwater for multiple strokes. So I now reckon 80 lengths (in about 55-60 mins) as a short swim, 100 lengths (in about 70-80mins) as normal swim, and 120 (in 90-100 mins) or 160 (in about 120 mins) for longer stretch. I've even started working my way through 'how to swim good' books: Janet Evans 'Total Swimming' is the best I've found so far. Now working on trying out the various stroke drills, and including more 'speed' lengths. Also having an occasional go at butterfly. So far, completely failing to somersault for tumble or flip turns at the ends. Aiming for three or more swims a week: this seems to have stabilised my weight, but not reduced it at all -- however, I tell myself, it should now mostly be muscle which is denser and heavier than flab.

3) Werking at home
Joys of laptop, remote log-in to werk IT system, mobile phone -- so much easier to concentrate at home on the thinking, writing, analysis and even reading that are supposed to be the core of my job. At least, once I switch into 'at werk'mode -- and home distractions are proving less distracting than open-plan office werk distractions. It gives back the couple of hours a day otherwise spent commuting, lets me grab swim bag and fit in the aquatic regime, and nip out to local shops or neighbours. The downside is the loss of face-to-face casual encounters with colleagues; however, none of my actual team-mates are located in the London office where I'm based. On balance, I used to find that it was only at the end of the day, when others started heading off home, that I could manage to focus down on the big stuff rather than juggling small, reactive incoming stuff -- now, at home, I can focus right down on the big stuff for most of the day, and feel more effective -- 'cultural ecosystem services' is my current favourite game. But it does make me feel even more semi-detached from the organisation, particularly the growing mass of bureaucratic process. On balance though, I think it probably does give the organisation better productivity -- and for me, it gives a sense of liberation and enjoyment that feels too good to be really legitimate...

4) Electrickery
Werk has a corporate commitment to cut the organisational eco-footprint by 50% (and has also signed up to the weaker 10:10 pledge). So its acquired some 'smart meters' for loan to staff. Ours arrived while I was down with a cold -- and as I emailed back, watching it provided about the level of intellectual stimulation I could cope with in that state. The electric kettle produces a huge surge, so I've taken to boiling kettle-full and filling up a thermos flask with the extra. As well as eliminating all the 'make another cuppa' switchings on, this means instant hot water rather than waiting about for kettle to boil. JN's old desktop computer is another big energy-guzzler -- much more so than either of my laptops (werk and own). Switching on the kitchen fluorescent light pretty much doubles the normal (.04-.07 kwH) background consumption of running a couple of CFCs, the CD system, a laptop and broadband. So far our daily usage totals have fluctuated between just under 300KwH to somewhat over 500KwH, with weekly totals between 20-25KwH -- or 10-15 kg CO2. I'm not sure how where that puts us in the energy efficiency league -- have yet to track down the info sources on that.

However, this year our central heating thermostat didn't switch on the boiler until at least six weeks later than the autumn temperature fall would previously have had us shivering -- we're certainly feeling the benefit of the insulation work we had down last year. No feeling of chill striking in through walls, so the inside temperature stays steadily comfortable.

Our other new toy on the electrickery front is new fridge-freezer, very tall -- maximum freezer capacity, five drawers, all the way up to my chest, to store summer fruits and other allotment produce. New luxury accommodation for our lavish fridge magnet collection.

5) Other stuff
This year we've been to Hadrian's Wall, Sutton Hoo, by Eurostar to Avignon and Provence in spring, and to the Loire Valley with its chateaux in September. I flew for werk to "Norderns Ark zoo north of Gothenborg in Sweden. I taught on a couple of permaculture courses for Friends of Tottenham Marshes, and we explored up the Lea to Rye House and the Gunpowder Mills at Waltham Abbey. We post about all this and other stuff on LiveJournal, at headgardener" for me, and the_gardener for him. Oh yes, garden and allotment are doing just fine, just mostly closing down for the winter.