The hourglass

Truly, these days are those last grains of sand in the hourglass that fall, seemingly, so rapidly.

More moths of Canterbury

Sunflower update

Mrs Sunflower

Another flower from my sunflower plant. This one is above the height of my head!

Sunflower is here!

At last, it bloomed today. It stands now at chin height (i.e. about 5.4").

Super Interesting Moth

Looks just like a chipped stick!
Turns out to be a Buff-tip Moth.

Sunflower Progress

The longest day of the year was a few days ago. I recall the shortest day of the year, not too long after I arrived. That means I'm more than half way through my stint here, and that's sad. However, plenty to look forward to, but I presume, like the last particles of sand in the hour glass, these days will seem as if they will go all the quicker.

Meanwhile my sunflower will soon bloom....

Sunset

The sun sets at 9.15pm! And rises at 4.30am! Madness! (Clearly, I'm not from Iceland....)

Uni of Kent

The University of Kent is home to one of the best views of the cathedral...

And some lovely architecture. Reminiscent I think of the Guggenheim...
But it is also home to my humble office...
From University you can cycle to Whitstable...

Or cycle or walk to my S & my's flat, guarded by fearsome cherubs....

London

London has many attractions.
The House(s) of Parliament are one....
The Tower of London is another...

writing & warm weather

1a) I noted before that for some reason that I felt a little sad at the warming of the weather. But I like warm weather.
1b) I was reflecting recently on writing, which I am in the midst of doing. I'm also expecting to see the proofs for a new article shortly. I realised though, that I have never reveled in joy and pleasure of an already-published article. I'm always relishing the preperation and crafting of a new publication.

2) From the window of S and my's flat I can see in the near distance a large gumtree with its distinctive dropping leaves. Home-ish.
First European reports about gumtrees attributed the lank-seemingness of the leaves to the oppressiveness of the heat and that it was just to much effort to keep leaves upright. In actuality the leaves are arranged to minimize surface area facing the sun when it is at its hottest and maximize exposure during the cooler parts of the day.

3) About 99% of cars in the UK are manual. I'm about to take a lesson in a manual car this week with a view to acquiring a car for S & I in the near future. Pity the instructor....Send prayers.

Warmer

I find it slightly sad, somehow, that the days are getting longer. Those early-dark days were somehow nice. Perhaps it was, in part, the novelty of it all (after coming from the tropics). However, there are good points of course. I can open the window and get fresh air without being seemingly speared by shards of freezing air.

23 Jan 2009

It has been oscillating between rainy and sunny. Often blowing a gale at night, but peaceful in the morning. Britons complain that the grey winteriness gets them down, but happily I've never been prone to SAD (seasonal affective disorder - where one's mood is correlated to the amount of sunlight one is exposed to).

This morning has been one of triumphs. I tackled and overcame what I thought was going to be an intractable problem in getting my brand new modem to work with my Linux-based netbook. I've deposited a foreigh-currency cheque to be put into my brand new Barclays bank account (I'm a real person now), and I've just done a fundamental re-sort-through of my data and am now using Apple's 'Timemachine' to back it all up.

Now, at last, I can get on with work!

Times gone by

Very frequently one sees near the doors of houses in Canterbury (and elsewhere no doubt) installations like those on the right. I presume they are boot scrapers and were useful in the days when the roads and pavements weren't concretised. Except on rare unfortunate occasions, they are nowadays ornamental and a reminder of what life must've been like in another time. The oldness of Canterbury is generally charming, but, for the cyclist, for example, impractical. The roads tends to be too narrow to accommodate a car and a bicycle and thus many cyclists use the pavement. This, however, is not entirely satisfactory either as there is sometimes a) no room to accommodate and bicycle and a pedestrian, b) no pavement either!

To Whitstable

I cycled to Whitstable today. It is about 8 miles from Canterbury and is a hilly cycle which is largely - though not thoroughly - well signed. The weather today was, happily, not icy enough to prevent me from going on what was a longer than I expected expedition. Picture 1 here is at the beginning of the bike ride, looking back over Canterbury, with the Cathedral in the distance.

Upon reaching Whitstable, the first-time rider is left to wonder for a while whether he or she has arrived at all and where to turn next. Predictably, of the two choices I was presented with, I took the wrong one initially.

When you eventually find yourself in Whitstable and have determined that the town is indeed Whitstable, you realise what a pleasant sea-sidey place it is. Fish & Chipperies are well patronised by shivering day-trippers and I looked longingly at paper cones that contained hot chips (though I resisted the urge. After a week here - or is it almost two? - I've not eaten out once!).

Whitstable beach is not a sprawling paradisical thing, but is divided into strips of a few metres by lengths of wood (see picture 2) which I presume serve to retain the pebbles or shale (by which I mean medium-sized shards of rock). Obviously, even if the weather lent itself to it, Whitstable beach wouldn't be a pleasant one to lie on and would be hopeless for building sand-castles on. The only kind of person who could make good of it might be an Irish farmer on holidays. He could probably build a nice miniature property-dividing wall with it. Meanwhile, the sea-water is the hue of milky tea but is probably not suitable for drinking.

But there are plenty of pleasant pubs and shops in town where you can, I'm sure, quench a thirst. These are mainly of the typical tourist-beach-town variety. I, however, was cold and wished I could feel my toes and I was also keen to head back to Canterbury before dark. I left at 3.20pm something, and it was already feeling twilighty. It took me an hour to cycle home, which I did so slowly and fairly exhaustedly.

Prolonged cold and physical exertion meant that my plans to do work this evening shall be largely abandoned. Hot soup and cider are now on the cards.