Today's nerdy pre-occupation

Someone on a bellringing list has asked whether anyone else has converted their personal weight into the format normally used to measure church bells, which is cwt-quarter-lb.

I think, using Wikipedia, that means that cwt is 112lb so a quarter is 28lb. Which makes me 1-3-19.

Some other bright spark has then suggested comparing that with the records of church bells at Dove’s Guide, which is searchable by weight of tenor bell.

It appears that there are 42 churches with bells hung for English-style ringing whose heaviest bell is lighter than me.

Of those 42 churches, the first 22 have incomplete records that list their heaviest bell as weighing 0lb.

Of the rest, some notable churches whose bells weigh less than me:

You only need to know your weight in pounds or kilos to compare it to chuch bell weights on the guide, but even so, I really can’t see this one taking off as a blog meme.

Spam comments

I was just cursing a handful of naff spam comments I had to manually delete when I caught sight of this

Akismet has protected your site from 9873 spam comments.

Good grief! Thank you, Akismet!

Lib Dem Blog Meet in Brighton

Bloggers’ Reception
Lib Dem Blog of the Year Awards
Come and see the inaugural Liberal Democrat bloggers awards being presented and hear from some of the top Lib Dem bloggers, including Lynne Featherstone MP.
21.00-23.00,
Gloucester Room Hilton Brighton Metropole

There’s a Bloggers’ Reception on the Conference Agenda.  Now, isn’t that posh.   It’s a little more formal than the whole meet-in-a-pub idea, but hey.

My cats are Mighty Hunters

Hmm, did I really need to upload 6 videos of my mighty hunting cats to Google Video?

For some reason I always mistype that the first time and wonder why google.video.com isn’t playing ball. I look at it and rub my eyes cartoon-stylee before doing a Homer-like d’oh and retyping video.google.com

Those cat videos in full:

  1. http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-8951294257259750828&hl=en
  2. http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=8545977164428227701&hl=en
  3. http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=4763328426337947820&hl=en
  4. http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3135252504509427891&hl=en
  5. http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=6067798981786042045&hl=en
  6. http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-488241744138881657&hl=en

My cats are unfortunately not as funny as OCD Toilet Flushing Cat, but they’re going through a nightly workout and we’ll be getting that Oscar soon.

Mind you, they might have OCD – they don’t seem to be able to drink without pawing the bowl a set number of times, and tipping water all over the kitchen floor. We’ve had to get a special untippable dog bowl with a rubber rim to stop them making such a mess.

US man survives chocolate ordeal

Have you seen this story from the US?  It’s little fragments of it that tickle me:

Rescue workers and staff at the Debelis Corporation used cocoa-butter to thin out the chocolate and pull him free.

And then the occasional hint that the story is not taking the man’s plight seriously:

The accident involved dark chocolate.

Hmmm.

Culinary/cultivation bulletin

I haven’t had a chance to cook much at all recently, what with being away, but here’s a few gems:

One birthday present was a book on cooking with coffee and chocolate. Greatly appreciated: I love coffee flavoured things, so can’t wait for opportunities to make things out of it. P not a consumer of caffeine at all, so we may have to wait until we next have guests. Since the early part of next year will be devoted to electioneering, and since we’ve been here nearly a year and not had a housewarming party or even had many of our friends round, we plan on doing as much entertaining as possible in the next few months. Once we’ve tidied up. It’s CHAOS here – Can’t Have Anyone Over Syndrome.

I had an attempt at making watermelon sorbet before I went away: puréed most of a watermelon left over from a picnic and froze it with a mugful of sugar syrup. I didn’t stir it enough so it froze rock solid, and is rather difficult to eat. I’m having to attack it with knives every so often and pretend I meant it to be a granita. Perhaps that’s what ice grinders are meant for. I’m also attempting using it to flavour cocktails. It’s currently sharing a glass with a gin and tonic. I overdid the the gin a bit as the bottle was nearly empty so I can’t actualy tell whether or not it tastes nice. I think it would also work quite well in a champagne punch. We have some very cheap fizz from France. Must try! Have been very tempted to throw a garden party of our own, but we’ve probably missed the best of the weather now and our garden is hardly tidier than our house.

I roasted a chicken last weekend to check whether I still could. I can. The cats go crazy for hours once they start smelling the chicken and frenzied begging ensues when I actually start to carve the thing. The chicken did four human meals (fricaséed the remainder into a sweet and sour sauce the following day) and kept the cats fed for a couple of days as well. Bargain.

Kimbo has been pruning her bay tree and rather than compost or chuck the trimmings, she offered spare leaves to all takers in UMRA. I waved my little hand, eventually managed to get my address through her spamtrap, and when I returned from my holiday I had a jiffy bag full of bay leaves to add to my recipes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many. For a couple of quid, the spice vendors at the supermarket will offer maybe ten leaves. I got a jiffybagful out of the goodness of Kimbo’s heart. I must send her a postcard to say thanks. The first bayleaf helped stuff last weekend’s chicken. I’m sure it was thrilled.

Don’t think it will be a struggle to find blackberries this year. Just one bramble poking over the fence has already yielded over half a pound of blackberries, with plenty more unripened on the bramble, and still more out of reach until I take a chair into the garden. Not sure if I should make jam, since we brought an unfeasibly large collection of obscure Bonne Maman flavours back with us from Normandy earlier in the year, and we still haven’t eaten all of last year’s homemade jam, some of which is lurking in the cupboard. But I really must get some strawberries before it’s too late. I should have gone picking whilst I was in Herefordshire.

My chilli plants don’t look like they’re going to flower in time. Nights are drawing in already, and although they look healthy and bushy, there is no sign of any flowers, and without the flowers, there aren’t going to be any fruits. The lean-to is ideal for them – the max-min thermometer says it’s been nearly 40degC in there at times – but still no flowers.

Asking a friend of P’s what we could plant in the garden now for eating overwinter resulted in her coming around with a pot of leek seedlings, so I’ve planted those out and am hoping for better results with them than with the attempts at peas and beans earlier in the year that just simply never came up. P’s friend also brought us some packets of seeds for rocket, lettuce and spinach, but there just isn’t any bare earth to put them in. I shall try harder at clearing some space tomorrow, but until we get the fence fixed, the best flowerbeds are overshadowed by collapsing fence panels.

The mystery fruit in the garden is still unidentified, but they’re getting bigger and bigger and starting to turn blue when they ripen. Damsons? Sloes? If they’re sloes, then archdruid has some interesting ideas about putting them in with an anise spirit like pernod, vanilla pods and coffee beans and making a liqueur called Patxaran. I don’t think they can be sloes — they started red, and then turned blue. Cut them in half and they have pips like apples not a stone. I think they’re also too big.

Travel quiz

We’ve not had a quiz for ages, so try this one for size:

Your travel type: Travel Yup

The Travel Yup likes exotic and adventurous travel, but prefers big cities with fast paced life. He has a keen interest in other cultures and always brings home a few souvenirs.
Shopping in Bangkok, getting a tailor made suite in Kuala Lumpur, that’s the kind of thing the Travel Yup is into. Even though he likes to get away, he prefers his travels to be comfortable.

top destinations:

Amsterdam
Beirut
New York

stay away from:

North Korea
Alaska
Darien Gap

get your own travel profile

Brighton

Those of you who have been waiting with baited breath will no doubt be delighted to know that I have fixed my accommodation problem for the Brighton Lib Dem conference, and booked a nice looking Gwesty which Googlemaps assures me is 0.9 miles from the conference centre.  This was achieved thanks to the Conference Delegates Booking Bureau, Peter‘s suggestion, almost entirely by email. Which was nice.

People from Lib Dem Blogs have been posting their maps of the countries they’ve visited.  I did mine back in January.  Not very impressive, compared to some of the Lib Demmers turning the world red.

Garden Party write-up

I finally have a few minutes to write up our Royal Garden Party experience as promised. I hadn’t forgotten.

Our Council seems to get a few invites to a Garden Party every year, and the ruling group is kind enough to let the minority parties have them. They seem to come to us every other year, so I suspect the Tories get them in the year we don’t. This year, I was fortunate enough to get them because I was the most senior member of the group who hadn’t been before who wasn’t too much of a republican to be interested in that sort of thing.

So, we allowed our names to be sent to the Lord Chamberlain, then a few months later, the invites arrived. Stiff, gilt edged cards with our names and titles handwritten on. Her Majesty commands the Lord Chamberlain to invite ………… to a Royal Garden Party. The invite includes a parking permit for The Mall, a secondary invitation to bring on the day, and a set of notes on what to expect, what you can and can’t do, where you need to be when, and so on.

We booked rail transport to get there. I wouldn’t really like to drive into central London, even with a Mall parking pass, and my Midland Mainline loyalty card meant we could get first class tickets, meaning we didn’t have to risk getting gum on our finery.

We bought new clothes specially: P invested in a nice new linen suit, and I just had my old one dry cleaned and added a new shirt and tie. We made a picnic for on the train although we probably didn’t need to – in first, the train staff come round with baskets of snacks and offers of a glass of wine.

Flash forward to arrival in London: we get the tube to St James Park and wander through the park down to the Mall. Already we’re following people with lovely hats and in their finest gear. By the time we hit the Mall, there was a steady stream of people to follow. And there were a lot of cars parking on the Mall, so glad we did take the train.

The notes told us there were several different entrances we could queue at. The queue at the front of the palace is the longest, but you get to go through the palace to get the garden. Since we’re unlikely to be frequent guests of Her Majesty, we chose the longest queue to go through the house.

It took about forty minutes to an hour to shuffle through the queue and reach the garden. During that time, there are almost always people joining the back of the queue which stretched out long behind us. There were lots of interesting things to watch – the people, their clothes, their hats. And there were interesting conversations going on all around us. Near us was an Australian serviceman who was making two trips to the palace in two days as the following day, his brother was getting an award. There were lots of servicemen and women, some people with guild medals on ribbons around their neck. There were people in Scouting uniforms, clergymen in different sorts and colours of cassocks, some people in glorious African national dress, and lots and lots of people like us whose finery didn’t let on why they were there.

We passed through a Police checkpoint and had to show our invitations, which were taken from us, and passports and driving licences.

The queue made its way through the house, which was rather fine: lots of paintings and ceramics on display. Further on, we went through a large courtyard, with the queue split in half, half of us alongside one wall and and the other half long out of earwigging distance on the far side of the courtyard.

Finally, out into the garden itself. We knew very little, but we were equipped with the map that gave the basic layout: very long tea-tents on the left, the lake ahead the far side of very large lawn and the Diplomatic and Royal tea tents on the right. There were two military bands, one near the lake, one near the house. The bands had their own tent, and a flag signalling system to ensure only one was playing at once: the first band had its flag up when it was playing. After a set, it lowered its flag, and the band diagonally opposite raised its own flag and started playing. The music was an interesting mix. You think of military bands playing marching music, but the music I recognised was all light – at one point, a Bond medley, including the famous theme and songs from the various films, at another point a Beatles medley. We had fun half listening to the music and seeing who could identify it first.

We knew from the notes the progress of the afternoon: guests arrive, guests go into garden, and then an hour later, the Royal Family arrive and the National Anthem is played. The guests form into lanes, organised by Yeomen of the Guard in full, colourful uniform, and armed with brightly shining pikes. The Royal Family pass through the lanes and take tea 50 minutes later first in the Royal Tea Tent and then a little later in the Diplomatic Tea Tent.

There was a small hiatus for wandering around the lawn, during which I’m certain I saw the two young princes, with Harry’s hair being the thing that caught my eye. By the time I’d got P’s attention and tried unsubtly to point at the young men in morning dress, they’d moved, and I wasn’t so sure it was them.

So, we knew that what we had to do was get into the lanes. They started forming lanes as soon as we got there, so we did suit. We started a little late and so we ended up queuing at the end of the lane, just before the Royal Tea Tent. The lane turned an angle from the house to the tent. We knew the Queen had to pass that way to get her tea, and we also knew when. So we stayed there. And waited. We stood for just under an hour, as more and more people joined the lane. At the end we were very close to the inside of the lane, in prime position to see the Queen as she passed. She spent a long time talking to the people out of sight up the lane from us. At several points, the Yeomen told us she was nearly there. “She’s almost round the bend now, ladies and gentlemen.”

Finally, the Queen passed. She was running late, and passed us at quite some speed. There was no chance to talk, so I suggested we back out through the crowd and take our chance to get our tea. As we did so, a new lane formed behind us for Prince Charles and Camilla to pass through the crowd. This meant we were effectively trapped, so we made our way into the new lane. We looked back over our shoulders and saw that the people right where we had been standing in the first lane, the people we’d been idly chatting to for the past hour, were deep in involved conversation with the Duke of Edinburgh.

We were in the wrong place actually to speak to Camilla or the Prince of Wales, but we did hear them talking to the people in front ofus. The conversation was very much in the “so, who are you, what do you do, type conversations.” And amongst the people directly in front of us was the man who manages the Pickalilly factory.

Finally, the lanes dissipated and we could at last get to the tea tent ourselves. It was at this point we discovered they’d run out food! But not immediately, we got into a queue for refreshments and people at the head of the queue were coming away with cake. But by the time we got there, they only had drinks left. We did have some rather lovely iced coffee, and also some English apple juice from orchards on the Sandringham estate. There was rather an extensive menu of different types of sandwich, cake and icecream that we’d missed out on.

The afternoon was drawing on then, and it was nearly time to hear the National Anthem for a second time that would signal that the Royal Family were leaving. We didn’t know how soon after that we would be asked to leave the garden, so we took the opportunity to see the gardens. Which were lovely. We wandered around the lake, saw a big urn, and the lovely new herbacious border the Queen had planted. By the time we came back to the main house, people were starting to leave, so we joined the queues ambling back through the house and were queuing to leave when the second National Anthem played.

For the rest of the day, we planned either to go and see a film or get dinner. We were ravenous at this point, but we managed to get both in by walking to the South Bank, and seeing a very short 3D show at the bfi London IMAX, then going back to an Italian restaurant not too far from St Pancras which managed to feed us in under an hour.

On the train on the way back was someone in a strappy day dress and a very impressive hat, and we caught each other’s eye and wondered if she’d been at the palace that afternoon too. She had, we later heard from her end of a mbile phone conversation that she had been. Because the rules said we couldn’t take any baggage apart from handbags, she’d had to hang around in central London in a strappy dress and fancy hat for hours until her train. At least our suits meant we could keep our things in our pockets and we didn’t stick out too much.

In all, it was a lovely day, and I’m glad we could go. It was very English – with tea, gardens, and an awful lot of queueing. And it was a little frustrating that we got it a little wrong and didn’t get fed, but no harm done in the end. We got much closer than most do to the Queen, the Princes Phillip, William and Harry, and Camilla. And we had a nice day out in London.