Friday, June 30, 2006
Icelandic horses don't jump
I was told this today, and was astounded.
After all, was back when I was tiny I'd seen Marion Mould on Stroller win all sort of prizes, even in the flesh at the Liverpool Show (which was, at the time, part of the County Show circuit for top-flight British showjumpers). At 14.2 hands high, he was the only pony to ever compete at international level among horses, not just in the UK but also in Europe.
The Icelandic horse averages 13.2 hands high, but there is no word in Icelandic for 'pony' and Icelanders get very upset if you refer to "the most useful servant" as anything other than a horse. It is best known for its stamina, speed and smooth gait. This week is the national horse festival, the Landsmót, and I was thinking about going over to watch the jumping until my colleagues poined out that Icelandic horses do not jump, as this has been bred out over the years.
That was what astounded me - horses specifically bred not to jump? To the extent that any young horse who showed signs of even thinking of jumping was likely to be slaughtered? It was only when they explained that the surface of the land is so full of holes and dips that a jumping horse would very quickly turn into a broken-legged horse that I could appreciate this strange behaviour. Particularly given that I nearly broke my ankle walking over it doing the rettir the other year.
So I'm not going to go to the festival after all. It's has what even the locals view as an exorbitant entrance fee, and there's only so much smooth-gaited, flowing-maned excitement I can take. One year, though. One year I'll get to Hickstead for the Derby instead.
0 comments
After all, was back when I was tiny I'd seen Marion Mould on Stroller win all sort of prizes, even in the flesh at the Liverpool Show (which was, at the time, part of the County Show circuit for top-flight British showjumpers). At 14.2 hands high, he was the only pony to ever compete at international level among horses, not just in the UK but also in Europe.
The Icelandic horse averages 13.2 hands high, but there is no word in Icelandic for 'pony' and Icelanders get very upset if you refer to "the most useful servant" as anything other than a horse. It is best known for its stamina, speed and smooth gait. This week is the national horse festival, the Landsmót, and I was thinking about going over to watch the jumping until my colleagues poined out that Icelandic horses do not jump, as this has been bred out over the years.
That was what astounded me - horses specifically bred not to jump? To the extent that any young horse who showed signs of even thinking of jumping was likely to be slaughtered? It was only when they explained that the surface of the land is so full of holes and dips that a jumping horse would very quickly turn into a broken-legged horse that I could appreciate this strange behaviour. Particularly given that I nearly broke my ankle walking over it doing the rettir the other year.
So I'm not going to go to the festival after all. It's has what even the locals view as an exorbitant entrance fee, and there's only so much smooth-gaited, flowing-maned excitement I can take. One year, though. One year I'll get to Hickstead for the Derby instead.
0 comments
Thursday, June 29, 2006
More more cheese bread
That is the direct translation of what has become my standard choice when we go out to Greifinn for dinner.
Meiri meiri ostar brauð is pizza base with nacho cheese sauce and melted cheese on top. It's officially a starter or side dish, but it's so filling that I tend to have it as a main course, normally with pepperoni and/or ham as a topping.
Eating out here is scarily expensive - this 9-inch pseudo-pizza costs just over £10 - and Greifinn certainly isn't the most expensive resterant in town either. It's the usual place for us to have departmental meals, but I might suggest that we try, for instance, Peng's, the local Chinese resterant next time just for a change.
Tonight we went to say goodbye to Stefán, our departmental administrator. He, his partner and their new-born daughter are moving to Reykjavík this weekend, so we stole him away for a couple of hours this evening to celebrate. He's a really Good Chap and I will miss him.
0 comments
Meiri meiri ostar brauð is pizza base with nacho cheese sauce and melted cheese on top. It's officially a starter or side dish, but it's so filling that I tend to have it as a main course, normally with pepperoni and/or ham as a topping.
Eating out here is scarily expensive - this 9-inch pseudo-pizza costs just over £10 - and Greifinn certainly isn't the most expensive resterant in town either. It's the usual place for us to have departmental meals, but I might suggest that we try, for instance, Peng's, the local Chinese resterant next time just for a change.
Tonight we went to say goodbye to Stefán, our departmental administrator. He, his partner and their new-born daughter are moving to Reykjavík this weekend, so we stole him away for a couple of hours this evening to celebrate. He's a really Good Chap and I will miss him.
0 comments
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Henman out already
It's the last week of June and Henman is out of Wimbledon already.
And is anyone surprised? I thought not. It would have been nice for him to make it to the second week but he's been so awful recently that he wasn't even seeded this year and an unfortunate draw against Federer made it almost inevitable that he'd be knocked out in the seond round.
This leaves me wondering - what sports are England (and Britain) still good at? Well, we're doing OK in the World Cup so far... We're doing pretty miserably against Sri Lanka in the cricket. Last I noticed, we weren't too hot on the rugby front either.
Never fear - there are sports in which we can still hold our heads up high. Take showjumping, for instance. Last month Nick Skelton won the Rome Grand Prix on Arko III. And we're pretty good in boats, whether they be sail, oar or engine-powered. We're not bad on two wheels, with or without an engine. We can build Formula 1 cars but we can't actually drive them successfully.
There's another excellent reason for flying the flag on the sporting scene. We're also still damned good at tiddlywinks.
0 comments
And is anyone surprised? I thought not. It would have been nice for him to make it to the second week but he's been so awful recently that he wasn't even seeded this year and an unfortunate draw against Federer made it almost inevitable that he'd be knocked out in the seond round.
This leaves me wondering - what sports are England (and Britain) still good at? Well, we're doing OK in the World Cup so far... We're doing pretty miserably against Sri Lanka in the cricket. Last I noticed, we weren't too hot on the rugby front either.
Never fear - there are sports in which we can still hold our heads up high. Take showjumping, for instance. Last month Nick Skelton won the Rome Grand Prix on Arko III. And we're pretty good in boats, whether they be sail, oar or engine-powered. We're not bad on two wheels, with or without an engine. We can build Formula 1 cars but we can't actually drive them successfully.
There's another excellent reason for flying the flag on the sporting scene. We're also still damned good at tiddlywinks.
0 comments
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Border complete
That's the border of the sampler complete.
I don't know about anyone else, but I always find the final quadrant of an embroidery a little stressful, particularly if it has a border. There's always the possibility that somewhere I've missed a vital stitch and the entire thing is going to be one stitch out somewhere. Nevertheless, this time I've made it right the way around a border of approximately 130+200+260+200+130 stitches right on target. If I hadn't then I'd be weeping into one of my three remaining bottles of cider by now. :)
With the end in sight I'm now beginning to think of the next project. I'm tempted to finish off the tudor cap for entirely selfish reasons - blackwork is generally light and easy to carry on holiday. If I finish the cap before I leave for the UK then I'll just have to take another piece of garb instead. I might as well therefore take advantage of the opportunity to start my blackwork partlet. Or maybe some blackwork linen gloves now that I've just about got the pattern right.
And just to finish, here's the promised proof that I did actually go white water rafting. This was taken 'in the middle of the night' just after 01:00 on Saturday morning:
0 comments
I don't know about anyone else, but I always find the final quadrant of an embroidery a little stressful, particularly if it has a border. There's always the possibility that somewhere I've missed a vital stitch and the entire thing is going to be one stitch out somewhere. Nevertheless, this time I've made it right the way around a border of approximately 130+200+260+200+130 stitches right on target. If I hadn't then I'd be weeping into one of my three remaining bottles of cider by now. :)
With the end in sight I'm now beginning to think of the next project. I'm tempted to finish off the tudor cap for entirely selfish reasons - blackwork is generally light and easy to carry on holiday. If I finish the cap before I leave for the UK then I'll just have to take another piece of garb instead. I might as well therefore take advantage of the opportunity to start my blackwork partlet. Or maybe some blackwork linen gloves now that I've just about got the pattern right.
And just to finish, here's the promised proof that I did actually go white water rafting. This was taken 'in the middle of the night' just after 01:00 on Saturday morning:
0 comments
Monday, June 26, 2006
Food for the soul
Also known as I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue
I came in from work today feeling all frustrated and miserable, unable to write anything presentable without it coming out as a rant. Then I clicked on the "Listen Again" button on the Radio 4 website and world was a happier place.
It struck me, as I was listening to the dulcet tones of Humph that the level of double entendres in that programme would surely get it banned in somewhere like the US. This is the intellectual version of the Carry On films, all tits and bums in a very Anglo-Saxon manner. And yes, it made me laugh aloud, regularly.
Tonight's version of Tequila on the swannee whistle was just breathtaking. I found myself wondering - does Graeme has perfect pitch? Or has he just been playing the swannee whistle for so long that he has developed an uncommon skill with it? He certainly plays it a lot better than Tim does.
My Fringe tickets to see Tim and Graeme in the flesh arrived the other day. I am, I have to admit, very excited by this. To a heretic who always preferred The Goodies to Monty Python it's something of a dream come true. Brand new Goody-goodness and I'll be there in person to see it.
Please excuse me while I go and bounce for Britain. Or maybe go play with some string...
6 comments
I came in from work today feeling all frustrated and miserable, unable to write anything presentable without it coming out as a rant. Then I clicked on the "Listen Again" button on the Radio 4 website and world was a happier place.
It struck me, as I was listening to the dulcet tones of Humph that the level of double entendres in that programme would surely get it banned in somewhere like the US. This is the intellectual version of the Carry On films, all tits and bums in a very Anglo-Saxon manner. And yes, it made me laugh aloud, regularly.
Tonight's version of Tequila on the swannee whistle was just breathtaking. I found myself wondering - does Graeme has perfect pitch? Or has he just been playing the swannee whistle for so long that he has developed an uncommon skill with it? He certainly plays it a lot better than Tim does.
My Fringe tickets to see Tim and Graeme in the flesh arrived the other day. I am, I have to admit, very excited by this. To a heretic who always preferred The Goodies to Monty Python it's something of a dream come true. Brand new Goody-goodness and I'll be there in person to see it.
Please excuse me while I go and bounce for Britain. Or maybe go play with some string...
6 comments
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Sleeping easier
I seem to have weaned myself off the sleeping tablets.
And on to Tai Chi. I'm astounded at how effective 15-20 minutes of Tai Chi is for calming me down just before bed. I only do what the DVD describes as a 'warm-up', but it leaves me far more relaxed than the tablets do. It's also far cheaper, as those herbal tablets are not cheap, even in the UK.
Even after the rafting expedition when I was physically tired I found I couldn't get to sleep because my mind was racing. I got up and did a quick 15 minutes and my mind slowed down enough to go back to bed and fall asleep quite rapidly.
Consider me a convert.
0 comments
And on to Tai Chi. I'm astounded at how effective 15-20 minutes of Tai Chi is for calming me down just before bed. I only do what the DVD describes as a 'warm-up', but it leaves me far more relaxed than the tablets do. It's also far cheaper, as those herbal tablets are not cheap, even in the UK.
Even after the rafting expedition when I was physically tired I found I couldn't get to sleep because my mind was racing. I got up and did a quick 15 minutes and my mind slowed down enough to go back to bed and fall asleep quite rapidly.
Consider me a convert.
0 comments
Saturday, June 24, 2006
The Ultimate Hot Chocolate
Is made with Swiss Miss instant chocolate and water drawn direct from a hot spring.
Not just any hot spring, mind, but the hot spring that rises on the eastern bank of the Jökulsá Vestari (the West Glacial River) to the south of Varmahlíð, which is reached by white water rafting down the river.
Iceland holds a lot of festivities over the week of the solstice, and a couple of weeks ago I noticed on a flyer for this period that there was a midnight rafting trip just over an hour's drive from Akureyri. This seemed an appropriately silly way to celebrate the solstice, so just after 20:00 last night Syed and I left Akureyri in search of adventure.
At the rafting center at Varmahlíð we were met by an international group of raft guides and fellow passengers. Raj, our guide, is from Nepal and is working over the summer with three other Nepali guys, a Canadian and an Australian plus sundry others who weren't there last night. Here we were kitted out in dry suits, boots, helmets and gloves before a half-hour bus ride to our starting point, where we also acquired life jackets and paddles before launching the inflatable rubber rafts onto the deceptively calm river and climbing aboard at about 23:00.
I was quite intrigued by the rafts themselves. They were self-bailing, and so the bottom of the raft wasn't fully attached to the inflatable side and cross sections. Of course, this makes sense when I think about it, that the inflated sections would keep the raft afloat and the movement would suck any water out, but I've always been a little uncomfortable about the idea of boats with holes in the bottom, even if they are designed that way. You sit on the inflated side sections and slip one foot into a pocket on the deck to act as an anchor point and to give a bit of a sense of security.
Then off we went. No problem here... a bit of light paddling into the centre of the river until the current caught us and swept us off downstream, where the fun really started. The route we took is graded II-III on the international whitewater rating system:
Anything that wasn't covered by a dry suit was soon very wet. The group on our raft proved to be a natural team and we were soon paddling in time with each other, responding to commands from Raj who perched in the stern of the raft and steered. We even sang as we were swept downstream. Every now and then we would pass or be passed by one of the other rafts or one of the support team in their kayaks, at which point a great deal of splashing would ensue.
The gorge we sailed through was magnificent; rust-red slopes of iron oxide sands, high walls of black basalt reaching up from the white-foamed dark waters. Dark, except for the the brilliant blue of the hot springwater that bubbles up beside the main river. I wasn't expecting this, and at first the sight of steam confused me, making me wonder if we were about to go past - or down - a waterfall, but instead we drew up to the bank and all climbed out to where a white plastic container had been embedded in the rocks. Our guides then proceeded to extract plastic mugs, spoons and several containers of hot chocolate, which we made by collecting water from the spring and spooning in large amounts of chocolate powder (with marshmallows). The water was the perfect temperature, and hot chocolate has never tasted so good.
Until now the waters had been fairly calm, but as we came to the convergence of the west and east rivers their nature changed. One raft tipped over entirely, and ours survived the crossing but lost three people overboard in the process, Syed amongst them! There was nothing to worry about though, as we backpaddled a bit and the current brought them all back to us, supported by their lifejackets and none the worse for wear. Syed was more elated than concerned at his unexpected dunking, and when we came to another calm stretch opted for a voluntary dip in what was by now the Héraðsvötn river
We continued rafting through the night, coming ashore at last at dawn (which was only about 01:30, but it's the principle of the thing). Our return to the centre in the bus was a little longer than the trip out, but once there we could strip off the now rather damp and smelly dry suits and warm ourselves with more hot chocolate while we watched a slide show of pictures taken of our adventure by the the support team. I opted for herbal tea instead though, as no hot chocolate could come close to that we'd enjoyed a couple of hours earlier.
It was after 04:00 by the time we got back to Akureyri, and the adrenalin was starting to wear off. Today I ache in all of those muscles I don't normally use in my sedentary day job, and my right shoulder - the one that was providing the power to the paddle rather than the finesse - may not forgive me for several days. Syed should be getting the CD with the pictures within a couple of days, so I'll post the best ones then.
We decided on the way back that now we've done the west river we really ought to do the east river as well. That's categorised III-IV+ and is, we were told, quite an exhillarating trip. Some time next month, then, I should have more rafting tales to tell.
0 comments
Not just any hot spring, mind, but the hot spring that rises on the eastern bank of the Jökulsá Vestari (the West Glacial River) to the south of Varmahlíð, which is reached by white water rafting down the river.
Iceland holds a lot of festivities over the week of the solstice, and a couple of weeks ago I noticed on a flyer for this period that there was a midnight rafting trip just over an hour's drive from Akureyri. This seemed an appropriately silly way to celebrate the solstice, so just after 20:00 last night Syed and I left Akureyri in search of adventure.
At the rafting center at Varmahlíð we were met by an international group of raft guides and fellow passengers. Raj, our guide, is from Nepal and is working over the summer with three other Nepali guys, a Canadian and an Australian plus sundry others who weren't there last night. Here we were kitted out in dry suits, boots, helmets and gloves before a half-hour bus ride to our starting point, where we also acquired life jackets and paddles before launching the inflatable rubber rafts onto the deceptively calm river and climbing aboard at about 23:00.
I was quite intrigued by the rafts themselves. They were self-bailing, and so the bottom of the raft wasn't fully attached to the inflatable side and cross sections. Of course, this makes sense when I think about it, that the inflated sections would keep the raft afloat and the movement would suck any water out, but I've always been a little uncomfortable about the idea of boats with holes in the bottom, even if they are designed that way. You sit on the inflated side sections and slip one foot into a pocket on the deck to act as an anchor point and to give a bit of a sense of security.
Then off we went. No problem here... a bit of light paddling into the centre of the river until the current caught us and swept us off downstream, where the fun really started. The route we took is graded II-III on the international whitewater rating system:
Medium to Moderately DIfficult rapids with high irregular waves, narrow channels, rocks and holes, some maneuvering required. 1 metre high waves, some small hydraulics, some rocks and eddies.
Anything that wasn't covered by a dry suit was soon very wet. The group on our raft proved to be a natural team and we were soon paddling in time with each other, responding to commands from Raj who perched in the stern of the raft and steered. We even sang as we were swept downstream. Every now and then we would pass or be passed by one of the other rafts or one of the support team in their kayaks, at which point a great deal of splashing would ensue.
The gorge we sailed through was magnificent; rust-red slopes of iron oxide sands, high walls of black basalt reaching up from the white-foamed dark waters. Dark, except for the the brilliant blue of the hot springwater that bubbles up beside the main river. I wasn't expecting this, and at first the sight of steam confused me, making me wonder if we were about to go past - or down - a waterfall, but instead we drew up to the bank and all climbed out to where a white plastic container had been embedded in the rocks. Our guides then proceeded to extract plastic mugs, spoons and several containers of hot chocolate, which we made by collecting water from the spring and spooning in large amounts of chocolate powder (with marshmallows). The water was the perfect temperature, and hot chocolate has never tasted so good.
Until now the waters had been fairly calm, but as we came to the convergence of the west and east rivers their nature changed. One raft tipped over entirely, and ours survived the crossing but lost three people overboard in the process, Syed amongst them! There was nothing to worry about though, as we backpaddled a bit and the current brought them all back to us, supported by their lifejackets and none the worse for wear. Syed was more elated than concerned at his unexpected dunking, and when we came to another calm stretch opted for a voluntary dip in what was by now the Héraðsvötn river
We continued rafting through the night, coming ashore at last at dawn (which was only about 01:30, but it's the principle of the thing). Our return to the centre in the bus was a little longer than the trip out, but once there we could strip off the now rather damp and smelly dry suits and warm ourselves with more hot chocolate while we watched a slide show of pictures taken of our adventure by the the support team. I opted for herbal tea instead though, as no hot chocolate could come close to that we'd enjoyed a couple of hours earlier.
It was after 04:00 by the time we got back to Akureyri, and the adrenalin was starting to wear off. Today I ache in all of those muscles I don't normally use in my sedentary day job, and my right shoulder - the one that was providing the power to the paddle rather than the finesse - may not forgive me for several days. Syed should be getting the CD with the pictures within a couple of days, so I'll post the best ones then.
We decided on the way back that now we've done the west river we really ought to do the east river as well. That's categorised III-IV+ and is, we were told, quite an exhillarating trip. Some time next month, then, I should have more rafting tales to tell.
0 comments
Friday, June 23, 2006
Yes, I AM Alice
I have spent the day in a Dilbert cartoon.
It involved large sections of the new faculty, a management consultant, and a selection of lego blocks acting as a game. My main contribution was, I feel, identifying zero-cost solutions to a bunch of the peripheral problems while studiously ignoring all of the big problems we can't do anything about because of the financial constraints. The term 'rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic' comes to mind.
I also spent ten minutes this morning completely failing to identify a small bird with a pale underside, a brownish back, and a black head with a white stripe across the eye. Even with my bird book in my hands I had no idea what it was. I did spot what appeared to be a Glaucous Gull on the way up Öxnadal though.
3 comments
It involved large sections of the new faculty, a management consultant, and a selection of lego blocks acting as a game. My main contribution was, I feel, identifying zero-cost solutions to a bunch of the peripheral problems while studiously ignoring all of the big problems we can't do anything about because of the financial constraints. The term 'rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic' comes to mind.
I also spent ten minutes this morning completely failing to identify a small bird with a pale underside, a brownish back, and a black head with a white stripe across the eye. Even with my bird book in my hands I had no idea what it was. I did spot what appeared to be a Glaucous Gull on the way up Öxnadal though.
3 comments
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Diddle om pom pom
Diddle-iddle-iddle-iddle
And so on. I am back from day one of the faculty love-in, where I saw a humpback whale, and hoisted, dropped and even furled a staysail.
We did mission statement stuff before lunch and during the coffee break I translated the section of the information sheet on the rig into English. In other words, I took the diagram and wrote the English names for the various sails and their parts upon it. Then it was off onto the Haukur and into Skjálfandi Bay. There were two possible courses of action, whether to go look at the humpback whales in the middle of the bay or go off to the island to look at puffins. I'm very pleased to say that the whales won the vote, and we got quite a good look at a young 7m long humpback.
After that we got down to business. I ended up on the team responsible for handling the staysail (one of the triangular sails at the front). The Hauker carries six sails in total, a mainsail and a main topsail on the rear mast, a foresail and a fore topsail on the forward mast, and a staysail and a flying jib forward of the fore mast. The mainsail and foresails are gaff-rigged, meaning that they are quadrilateral rather than triangular and are attached to a wooden boom at the bottom, the mast at the front edge, and a wooden gaff at the top edge.
We only hoisted four of the sails, the mainsail, foresail, staysail and main topsail. Sailing conditions were very light indeed - probably very good for those people who weren't particularly happy on boats with engines, never mind sails - and so our best speed was only about 3 knots running back towards Húsavík. Unfortunately we didn't actually maneouver at all, just ran before the wind on a starboard tack for about an hour.
Nevertheless, there was time for the customary whale-watching mug of hot chocolate. Except, being on a sailing ship, we had the option of fortifying the drink a little so, being English, I felt it appropriate to add a tot of rum (Stroh) rather than the vodka or brandy that were also on offer.
So the sailing was enjoyable, if not energetic. I'd really love to do more of it.
0 comments
And so on. I am back from day one of the faculty love-in, where I saw a humpback whale, and hoisted, dropped and even furled a staysail.
We did mission statement stuff before lunch and during the coffee break I translated the section of the information sheet on the rig into English. In other words, I took the diagram and wrote the English names for the various sails and their parts upon it. Then it was off onto the Haukur and into Skjálfandi Bay. There were two possible courses of action, whether to go look at the humpback whales in the middle of the bay or go off to the island to look at puffins. I'm very pleased to say that the whales won the vote, and we got quite a good look at a young 7m long humpback.
After that we got down to business. I ended up on the team responsible for handling the staysail (one of the triangular sails at the front). The Hauker carries six sails in total, a mainsail and a main topsail on the rear mast, a foresail and a fore topsail on the forward mast, and a staysail and a flying jib forward of the fore mast. The mainsail and foresails are gaff-rigged, meaning that they are quadrilateral rather than triangular and are attached to a wooden boom at the bottom, the mast at the front edge, and a wooden gaff at the top edge.
We only hoisted four of the sails, the mainsail, foresail, staysail and main topsail. Sailing conditions were very light indeed - probably very good for those people who weren't particularly happy on boats with engines, never mind sails - and so our best speed was only about 3 knots running back towards Húsavík. Unfortunately we didn't actually maneouver at all, just ran before the wind on a starboard tack for about an hour.
Nevertheless, there was time for the customary whale-watching mug of hot chocolate. Except, being on a sailing ship, we had the option of fortifying the drink a little so, being English, I felt it appropriate to add a tot of rum (Stroh) rather than the vodka or brandy that were also on offer.
So the sailing was enjoyable, if not energetic. I'd really love to do more of it.
0 comments
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Birds and busy-ness
Today is, of course, the summer solstice.
Not that I noticed here, as it's been cloudy all day. Nevertheless, I have noted that the sun will set tonight at 00:59 and will rise again less than half an hour later, at 01:28. After that winter's on its way back again. :)
Work has been busy, busy, busy, although it hasn't all been admin. We've sorted out the basic navigation for the Arctic Portal website (aided and abetted by dozens of post-it notes and a large blank wall). I've written a short presentation on the external examination process ready for the faculty love-in tomorrow. And I've started getting to grips with the computerised record-keeping system - in Icelandic.
All the same, when I got out of the office (late) this afternoon I spotted an Oystercatcher in the grass beside the car park. This is another bird I haven't seen in Iceland before. The policy of carrying the camera is clearly paying off.
2 comments
Not that I noticed here, as it's been cloudy all day. Nevertheless, I have noted that the sun will set tonight at 00:59 and will rise again less than half an hour later, at 01:28. After that winter's on its way back again. :)Work has been busy, busy, busy, although it hasn't all been admin. We've sorted out the basic navigation for the Arctic Portal website (aided and abetted by dozens of post-it notes and a large blank wall). I've written a short presentation on the external examination process ready for the faculty love-in tomorrow. And I've started getting to grips with the computerised record-keeping system - in Icelandic.
All the same, when I got out of the office (late) this afternoon I spotted an Oystercatcher in the grass beside the car park. This is another bird I haven't seen in Iceland before. The policy of carrying the camera is clearly paying off.
2 comments
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
End of an era?
So the Beeb is scrapping Top Of The Pops.
I can't say I'm surprised; in the world of MTV (and even Sirkus) the idea of having a top ten count-down four days after the number one is announced is quite ludicrous.
Not, I hasten to point out, that I was ever a big fan of TOTP. Okay, I watched it for about six months when I was in secondary school, but that was it. If I wanted music I'd watch The Old Grey Whistle Test instead. Now there was a music show...
That's not the point though. I wonder how long before the main channels - both BBC and independent channels - start to look closely at their news coverage. After all, with rolling news channels such as BBC News 24, Sky News and CNN, how much call is there for news programmes on 'entertainment' channels?
I hope it'll be a long time before this happens, but it wouldn't surprise me to see it within the next 10-15 years. By then everyone in the UK will be on digital and will have access to at least one rolling news channel. Even if news coverage continues, will it shrink down to a two minute summary at the top of the hour (providing that it's not interrupting an important soap or reality-tv programme)?
I'd hate to see the end of real news programmes. Rolling news is great for catching up with headlines, but nothing beats a long news programme with intelligent background and analysis.
Of course, that's what Radio 4 is for, isn't it?
0 comments
I can't say I'm surprised; in the world of MTV (and even Sirkus) the idea of having a top ten count-down four days after the number one is announced is quite ludicrous.
Not, I hasten to point out, that I was ever a big fan of TOTP. Okay, I watched it for about six months when I was in secondary school, but that was it. If I wanted music I'd watch The Old Grey Whistle Test instead. Now there was a music show...
That's not the point though. I wonder how long before the main channels - both BBC and independent channels - start to look closely at their news coverage. After all, with rolling news channels such as BBC News 24, Sky News and CNN, how much call is there for news programmes on 'entertainment' channels?
I hope it'll be a long time before this happens, but it wouldn't surprise me to see it within the next 10-15 years. By then everyone in the UK will be on digital and will have access to at least one rolling news channel. Even if news coverage continues, will it shrink down to a two minute summary at the top of the hour (providing that it's not interrupting an important soap or reality-tv programme)?
I'd hate to see the end of real news programmes. Rolling news is great for catching up with headlines, but nothing beats a long news programme with intelligent background and analysis.
Of course, that's what Radio 4 is for, isn't it?
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Monday, June 19, 2006
Low Impact?
I thought Tai Chi was supposed to be gentle. So why do my shoulder, ankle and knees hurt?
Mainly because it's the first serious exercise I'm putting my shoulder through, and my knees are objecting to my weight (they've been doing that for a while). I don't know what caused the ankle though, but on Saturday night it wasn't supporting any weight at all, and the only cause I can come up with was that it did object a bit to one of the warm-up exercises earlier.
Nevertheless, I'm keeping up with it. I need the physical exercise and I could do with a bit more work on my Chi as well. So don't be too surprised if you come across me early in the morning at an SCA event doing strange exercises (although if you do, feel free to join in - I'm sure Kevin knows most, if not all of the moves, and there must be other people out there in SCA land who do).
In the meantime I shall work out in my living room. Although, looking at it, I might be able to work on the balcony if I'm careful.
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Mainly because it's the first serious exercise I'm putting my shoulder through, and my knees are objecting to my weight (they've been doing that for a while). I don't know what caused the ankle though, but on Saturday night it wasn't supporting any weight at all, and the only cause I can come up with was that it did object a bit to one of the warm-up exercises earlier.
Nevertheless, I'm keeping up with it. I need the physical exercise and I could do with a bit more work on my Chi as well. So don't be too surprised if you come across me early in the morning at an SCA event doing strange exercises (although if you do, feel free to join in - I'm sure Kevin knows most, if not all of the moves, and there must be other people out there in SCA land who do).
In the meantime I shall work out in my living room. Although, looking at it, I might be able to work on the balcony if I'm careful.
0 comments
Sunday, June 18, 2006
Two grebes or not two grebes
As I was driving down the fjörd yesterday I did a little birding on the way.
Now as I've said before, I'm not very good at putting names to birds. I do, however, have a rather handy little book that I really ought to keep in my handbag. Nevertheless, I can definitely add a few more species to my list of birds spied here in Eyjaflörður.
Down at the skating pond, beside the skating rink, there is a sign warning you about ducks and similar birds that have a tendancy to wander onto the road. Among the families there at present are Greylag Geese. They're fairly straightforward, looking like big grey geese. :)
Further upstream was a single Barrow's Goldeneye. I've seen these out at Mývatn quite regularly but I've never seen one this far west before. This was accompanied a couple of Whooper Swans. These may be swans, but they look more like big white geese to me - they don't that the elegant curve of the neck that the Mute Swan has.
Then came the great mystery - two birds with long orange and white necks and crested heads. The crested heads made me think of grebes, and according to my book they were Great Crested Grebes. These are, however, quite rare in Iceland and should be reported to the Icelandic equivalent of the RSPB, wherever it lives. My little camera doesn't have the zoom to get decent pictures of them, so I may go back sometime over the next couple of days with the big camera and see if I can get something better.
My next 'catch' was a Ptarmigan in its brown summer plumage sitting in the middle of a field in the way they do. I rounded off the day with a Tufted Duck, which has a startling white trailing edge to its wings when you see it in flight.
I haven't counted the chickens in the farmyard - I think that would be cheating. :)
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Now as I've said before, I'm not very good at putting names to birds. I do, however, have a rather handy little book that I really ought to keep in my handbag. Nevertheless, I can definitely add a few more species to my list of birds spied here in Eyjaflörður.
Down at the skating pond, beside the skating rink, there is a sign warning you about ducks and similar birds that have a tendancy to wander onto the road. Among the families there at present are Greylag Geese. They're fairly straightforward, looking like big grey geese. :)
Further upstream was a single Barrow's Goldeneye. I've seen these out at Mývatn quite regularly but I've never seen one this far west before. This was accompanied a couple of Whooper Swans. These may be swans, but they look more like big white geese to me - they don't that the elegant curve of the neck that the Mute Swan has.
Then came the great mystery - two birds with long orange and white necks and crested heads. The crested heads made me think of grebes, and according to my book they were Great Crested Grebes. These are, however, quite rare in Iceland and should be reported to the Icelandic equivalent of the RSPB, wherever it lives. My little camera doesn't have the zoom to get decent pictures of them, so I may go back sometime over the next couple of days with the big camera and see if I can get something better.
My next 'catch' was a Ptarmigan in its brown summer plumage sitting in the middle of a field in the way they do. I rounded off the day with a Tufted Duck, which has a startling white trailing edge to its wings when you see it in flight.
I haven't counted the chickens in the farmyard - I think that would be cheating. :)
0 comments
Independence Day Kleinur
Today Iceland celebrates its independence, and I celebrated by making traditional Icelandic sweet bread, or kleinur.
Kleinur are the Icelandic equivalent of doughnuts, being a deep-fried sweet bread of toroidal topology. They were brought to Iceland with the original settlers and have become the archetypal Icelandic sweet snack. These things are best made by the hundred, and as my friend Björk was planning to spend the day making them she invited me along to share the experience.
For the foodies out there, here's the recipe. This makes about 60 kleinur.
1kg flour
250g sugar
100g butter or oil
1 egg
5 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp ammonium bicarbonate
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1/2 litre súrmjölk (literally 'sour milk')
Oil or fat for frying
Put the flour in a heap on a flat surface and sprinkle the baking powder, bicarbonate of soda and ammonium bicarbonate on top. Make a well in the flour and put the sugar into it. Add the egg and oil to the sugar and mix. Gradually add the súrmjölk to the egg/sugar/oil and begin mixing in the flour, stirring until all of the liquid has been absorbed, then bring together into a dough. Knead the dough until it is smooth and springy.
Transfer the dough to a clean surface and roll it out to a thickness of approximately 8mm (1/4 inch). Cut into diamonds about 8-10 cm long and 6-8cm wide and make a slit in the centre of each:
Take each kleinur and thread one point through the hole, turning the side corners in towards the hole.
Deep fry the kleinur in hot fat or oil until dark golden brown, turning once, then drain and allow to cool.
You can also add a handful of cumin seeds to the flour to produce spicy kleinur. The bread is traditionally cooked in 'frying fat' - lard, in effect - although vegetable oil can also be used.
I've no idea what the UK equivalent of súrmjölk is, although I'm told that yoghurt is an acceptable susbstitute. In the same way that the first milk from a cow that's just given birth is a good subsitute for eggs in baking. (!)
One nice thing about kleinur is that they're something that you make and then freeze and pop in the microwave. They could also be made the day before a feast and brought to the site in plastic bags (I have two bags of the things in my kitchen right now).
0 comments
Kleinur are the Icelandic equivalent of doughnuts, being a deep-fried sweet bread of toroidal topology. They were brought to Iceland with the original settlers and have become the archetypal Icelandic sweet snack. These things are best made by the hundred, and as my friend Björk was planning to spend the day making them she invited me along to share the experience.
For the foodies out there, here's the recipe. This makes about 60 kleinur.
1kg flour
250g sugar
100g butter or oil
1 egg
5 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp ammonium bicarbonate
1/2 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1/2 litre súrmjölk (literally 'sour milk')
Oil or fat for frying
Put the flour in a heap on a flat surface and sprinkle the baking powder, bicarbonate of soda and ammonium bicarbonate on top. Make a well in the flour and put the sugar into it. Add the egg and oil to the sugar and mix. Gradually add the súrmjölk to the egg/sugar/oil and begin mixing in the flour, stirring until all of the liquid has been absorbed, then bring together into a dough. Knead the dough until it is smooth and springy.
Transfer the dough to a clean surface and roll it out to a thickness of approximately 8mm (1/4 inch). Cut into diamonds about 8-10 cm long and 6-8cm wide and make a slit in the centre of each:
Take each kleinur and thread one point through the hole, turning the side corners in towards the hole.
Deep fry the kleinur in hot fat or oil until dark golden brown, turning once, then drain and allow to cool.
You can also add a handful of cumin seeds to the flour to produce spicy kleinur. The bread is traditionally cooked in 'frying fat' - lard, in effect - although vegetable oil can also be used.
I've no idea what the UK equivalent of súrmjölk is, although I'm told that yoghurt is an acceptable susbstitute. In the same way that the first milk from a cow that's just given birth is a good subsitute for eggs in baking. (!)
One nice thing about kleinur is that they're something that you make and then freeze and pop in the microwave. They could also be made the day before a feast and brought to the site in plastic bags (I have two bags of the things in my kitchen right now).
0 comments
Friday, June 16, 2006
Used horse mussel
Or why accents are important.
On the network at HA (Háskólinn á Akureyri - the university's official title, as opposed to HI, the University of Iceland) we have a wonderful little program that, amongst its no-doubt numerous other functions, is an online Icelandic-English/English-Icelandic dictionary.
Now that I'm supposed to be a manager I feel that I really ought to take more notice of some of the many emails and documents that are circulated without English translations and, as a result, I've quickly come to rely upon this particular application. Sometimes its results are a little strange, but that's mainly due to English being full of synonyms and subtle variations in meaning that are not present in Icelandic. Sometimes it doesn't contain the education-specific term I'm trying to translate and I have to break the word down into its root elements and translate them first.
Today, though, I was trying to fill in a book request for the library - for Donald Norman's Design of Everyday Things and Emotional Design - when I came across a classic. The label notaður áður appeared. Notaður wasn't a problem - it translated as used. OK, that made sense. From this I suspected that áður probably meant something like previously. But just to be on the safe side, I typed it in and waited for the translation...
Horse mussel.
This was not what I had expected. I looked at it again and noticed that I'd missed out the fact that the word begins with á rather than a, and the system had given me the translation for aður instead. Anyone passing my office might have been suprised at the burst of laughter that this produced.
The northern horse mussel (Modiolus modiolus) is slightly larger than the common mussel and lives at slightly greater depths. It is quite common throughout northern waters such as the Norwegian and Icelandic fjords, Scotland's sea lochs and even Northern Ireland's Strangford Lough. They may even have some in a tank in on the ground floor of my building. But it has nothing to do with ordering library books.
A quick re-typing, this time remembering to hit the accent key before the letter 'a' produced the more helpful translation before. At last, everything made sense. I could fill in the rest of the form, click on the button and get the nice green smiley face that tells me that everything has worked.
The books are now ordered, and I have a new word to add to my Icelandic vocabulary, one that has left my vocabularly greatly enriched compared to 'before'.
0 comments
On the network at HA (Háskólinn á Akureyri - the university's official title, as opposed to HI, the University of Iceland) we have a wonderful little program that, amongst its no-doubt numerous other functions, is an online Icelandic-English/English-Icelandic dictionary.
Now that I'm supposed to be a manager I feel that I really ought to take more notice of some of the many emails and documents that are circulated without English translations and, as a result, I've quickly come to rely upon this particular application. Sometimes its results are a little strange, but that's mainly due to English being full of synonyms and subtle variations in meaning that are not present in Icelandic. Sometimes it doesn't contain the education-specific term I'm trying to translate and I have to break the word down into its root elements and translate them first.
Today, though, I was trying to fill in a book request for the library - for Donald Norman's Design of Everyday Things and Emotional Design - when I came across a classic. The label notaður áður appeared. Notaður wasn't a problem - it translated as used. OK, that made sense. From this I suspected that áður probably meant something like previously. But just to be on the safe side, I typed it in and waited for the translation...
Horse mussel.
This was not what I had expected. I looked at it again and noticed that I'd missed out the fact that the word begins with á rather than a, and the system had given me the translation for aður instead. Anyone passing my office might have been suprised at the burst of laughter that this produced.
The northern horse mussel (Modiolus modiolus) is slightly larger than the common mussel and lives at slightly greater depths. It is quite common throughout northern waters such as the Norwegian and Icelandic fjords, Scotland's sea lochs and even Northern Ireland's Strangford Lough. They may even have some in a tank in on the ground floor of my building. But it has nothing to do with ordering library books.
A quick re-typing, this time remembering to hit the accent key before the letter 'a' produced the more helpful translation before. At last, everything made sense. I could fill in the rest of the form, click on the button and get the nice green smiley face that tells me that everything has worked.
The books are now ordered, and I have a new word to add to my Icelandic vocabulary, one that has left my vocabularly greatly enriched compared to 'before'.
0 comments
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Anticipating the strangest things
My department has a two-day strategic planning workshop next week.
You know the sort of thing - two days of meetings, presentations and team-building exercises. The sort of thing that everyone hates but has to go along to anyway. Except this time I'm rather looking forward to it.
No, I haven't gone mad. I am looking forward to the team-building exercise bit of it, which involves a little fore-and-aft rigged schooner . I've never sailed anything with more than one mast before and, as you've probably guessed, I'm quite excited by the prospect. It's been a few years since I last sailed, but it's one of those things I'd love to do more often and am madly jealous of my friend Kate (not the one who's getting married, another one) for all of the Tall Ship sailing she's done.
Unfortunately the Haukur (Hawk) is too small to have any guns. Or have I perhaps been watching too much Hornblower recently?
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You know the sort of thing - two days of meetings, presentations and team-building exercises. The sort of thing that everyone hates but has to go along to anyway. Except this time I'm rather looking forward to it.
No, I haven't gone mad. I am looking forward to the team-building exercise bit of it, which involves a little fore-and-aft rigged schooner . I've never sailed anything with more than one mast before and, as you've probably guessed, I'm quite excited by the prospect. It's been a few years since I last sailed, but it's one of those things I'd love to do more often and am madly jealous of my friend Kate (not the one who's getting married, another one) for all of the Tall Ship sailing she's done.
Unfortunately the Haukur (Hawk) is too small to have any guns. Or have I perhaps been watching too much Hornblower recently?
0 comments
Get motivated!
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Not enough time!
Too many people are doing too many interesting garb projects.
Over the last week or so I've read entries that made me think oooh - that would be fun, and I could use one of xxx about:
Stop it! I don't have time for all of this! I have a sampler to finish! Plus a blackwork coif. And I have two shirts, several sweet bags, a tudor cap, a beaded brooch for said cap, two pairs of leg wrappings and an embroidered pen pot to do for other people before I can do something else for myself. Oh yes, and a largish embroidery to design and make before Christmas.
I need either a clone, a massive lottery win that removes the need to hold down a job, or an extra twelve hours in the day.
0 comments
Over the last week or so I've read entries that made me think oooh - that would be fun, and I could use one of xxx about:
- Embroidered gloves (linen, velvet and leather)
- Embroidered coifs (blackwork, whitework and Elizabethan)
- Chemises (embroidered and otherwise)
- The sleeves for my kirtle
- Gowns (although I have an excuse here in that my bridesmaid dress is going to do future service as garb)
- A farthingale (to go under the gown)
- A new corset (to go under the gown and maybe even to wear on other occasions)
Stop it! I don't have time for all of this! I have a sampler to finish! Plus a blackwork coif. And I have two shirts, several sweet bags, a tudor cap, a beaded brooch for said cap, two pairs of leg wrappings and an embroidered pen pot to do for other people before I can do something else for myself. Oh yes, and a largish embroidery to design and make before Christmas.
I need either a clone, a massive lottery win that removes the need to hold down a job, or an extra twelve hours in the day.
0 comments
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
A little rambling
Well, about as close to rambling as I ever get.
I took the car down to the garage, Dekkjatorgið, first thing this morning. As a result I now have a correctly-functioning exhaust and a quiet care once again. The garage is quite conventiently located for the office, as it's just at the bottom of the hill. This means that it's just over a kilometer away if you cut over the ridge, or half that again if you go up the main road and around.
The road up the hill runs above and parallel to the local river, the Glera. It's been quite bright and sunny today, and as I happened to have my little camera in my handbag, I took the opportunity to take a couple of photos.
The view over the river to the mountains beyond
The river at one of the smaller waterfalls
Now, in the height of summer, the landscape is about as green as it gets. Wildflowers have appeared, and in some areas we've got banks and banks of wild blue lupins dotted with the occasional golden dandelion.
We're also finally hearing birdsong. I'm no good at identifying birds by their songs, so instead I'm photographing them so that I can look them up in my bird book. At present we have a number of redshanks (Tringa totanus) which have arrived from the UK for the summer breeding season.
A redshank on the car park light
It's generally warm enough now that most of the time I'm indoors I have the balcony door open to let the air circulate a bit, often even until midnight. With the temperature a sweltering 12°ree; C and a well-insulated house this isn't a problem. Climatically it's definitely quite pleasant up here.
1 comments
I took the car down to the garage, Dekkjatorgið, first thing this morning. As a result I now have a correctly-functioning exhaust and a quiet care once again. The garage is quite conventiently located for the office, as it's just at the bottom of the hill. This means that it's just over a kilometer away if you cut over the ridge, or half that again if you go up the main road and around.
The road up the hill runs above and parallel to the local river, the Glera. It's been quite bright and sunny today, and as I happened to have my little camera in my handbag, I took the opportunity to take a couple of photos.
The view over the river to the mountains beyond
The river at one of the smaller waterfalls
Now, in the height of summer, the landscape is about as green as it gets. Wildflowers have appeared, and in some areas we've got banks and banks of wild blue lupins dotted with the occasional golden dandelion.
We're also finally hearing birdsong. I'm no good at identifying birds by their songs, so instead I'm photographing them so that I can look them up in my bird book. At present we have a number of redshanks (Tringa totanus) which have arrived from the UK for the summer breeding season.
A redshank on the car park light
It's generally warm enough now that most of the time I'm indoors I have the balcony door open to let the air circulate a bit, often even until midnight. With the temperature a sweltering 12°ree; C and a well-insulated house this isn't a problem. Climatically it's definitely quite pleasant up here.
1 comments
Monday, June 12, 2006
A World Cup-free zone
Isn't there football going on somewhere?
There certainly isn't here unless you're a cable subscriber. All rights to show World Cup matches over here seem to have been bought by Sýn, the predominantly-sports channel, where there is currently a non-stop diet of football complete with repeats in case you were out at work when the games were first played.
Although you can pick up Sýn on a normal TV it's usually scrambled and requires a cable connection to view it properly. It's the same with the other main station, Stöð 2, which both occasionally transmit in clear in order to tempt people in to buy cable. Naturally, the month of the World Cup is not one of these times.
So there's still little worth watching on television. Actually, tonight is one of the two days it's worth turning the TV on, as we have C.S.I. (the other day is Thurdsay, when we get C.S.I.: Miami). Instead, then, I'm currently working my way through The Living Planet, the twenty-year-old BBC series which is far superior to anything the Icelandic broadcasting companies are offering.
It's a good thing I have internet radio to keep me company.
0 comments
There certainly isn't here unless you're a cable subscriber. All rights to show World Cup matches over here seem to have been bought by Sýn, the predominantly-sports channel, where there is currently a non-stop diet of football complete with repeats in case you were out at work when the games were first played.
Although you can pick up Sýn on a normal TV it's usually scrambled and requires a cable connection to view it properly. It's the same with the other main station, Stöð 2, which both occasionally transmit in clear in order to tempt people in to buy cable. Naturally, the month of the World Cup is not one of these times.
So there's still little worth watching on television. Actually, tonight is one of the two days it's worth turning the TV on, as we have C.S.I. (the other day is Thurdsay, when we get C.S.I.: Miami). Instead, then, I'm currently working my way through The Living Planet, the twenty-year-old BBC series which is far superior to anything the Icelandic broadcasting companies are offering.
It's a good thing I have internet radio to keep me company.
0 comments
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Quiet day
Not a lot happened today. We had quite an interesting fog that settled into the fjord from above to the accompaniment of foghorns. I've done quite a bit of the border of the latest quadrant of the sampler, and I've watched two more Hornblower episodes.
Very little else, I'm afraid.
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Very little else, I'm afraid.
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Costume drama geek alert
I am, at last, catching up with Hornblower.
It is many years since I've read any of the Hornblower novels, sufficiently long that I've forgotten almost everything so I can't compare the recent series with the books. Sad though it is to admit it, while watching these my mind does not therefore go to the Hornblower novels, but instead to David Weber's Honor Harrington novels, which are quite obviously Hornblower In Space. And jolly good they are too.
Anyway, I've just watched the film where Horatio is involved in an attempt by French royalists to recapture France, supported by a detachement of British foot. Who just happen to be the 95th Regiment of Foot.
Now I'm quite familiar with the 95th from another source - Sharpe. Is this an attempt by the producers to tie together two extremely successful costume action drama series? This episode is set in 1799, while the 95th wasn't formed until 1800 as an experimental corp, renamed 'The Corps of Riflemen' and re-renamed the '95th Regiment of Foot 'in 1802. There was a previous 95th, but it were disbanded in 1796 and was a complete non-entity with no battle honours.
Clearly I have too much time to think. I blame it on not knowing when to go to sleep, myself.
0 comments
It is many years since I've read any of the Hornblower novels, sufficiently long that I've forgotten almost everything so I can't compare the recent series with the books. Sad though it is to admit it, while watching these my mind does not therefore go to the Hornblower novels, but instead to David Weber's Honor Harrington novels, which are quite obviously Hornblower In Space. And jolly good they are too.
Anyway, I've just watched the film where Horatio is involved in an attempt by French royalists to recapture France, supported by a detachement of British foot. Who just happen to be the 95th Regiment of Foot.
Now I'm quite familiar with the 95th from another source - Sharpe. Is this an attempt by the producers to tie together two extremely successful costume action drama series? This episode is set in 1799, while the 95th wasn't formed until 1800 as an experimental corp, renamed 'The Corps of Riflemen' and re-renamed the '95th Regiment of Foot 'in 1802. There was a previous 95th, but it were disbanded in 1796 and was a complete non-entity with no battle honours.
Clearly I have too much time to think. I blame it on not knowing when to go to sleep, myself.
0 comments
Friday, June 09, 2006
Postal joy
The mysterious parcel saga ends at last.
I eventually got a message to Elizabeth, the sender of my mystery parcel, and she emailed me some more details. These were duly passed on to customs yesterday and at 20:50 this evening the postman arrived with my parcel.
Yes, I did say 20:50. They deliver parcels late so that people are in to receive them. Quite a good idea, that. Anyway, my parcel is a beautiful set of silver, onyx and mother-of-pearl necklace and earings. I shall wear them tomorrow at graduation.
We had the rehearsal for graduation earlier this evening. That's a full rehearsal, so that everone knows what they're doing and when. I've clearly been spoiled by graduation ceremonies in the past, in beautiful concert halls and the like, although I must admit that they've decorated the sports hall very tastefully for the occasion. :) I cheated - as I'm not actually taking part in the ceremony (there was a chance I'd be reading names or handing out certificates) I escaped rather than sit through the same thing twice.
The other highlight of the day was changing the tyres on the car. I should have changed to the summer tyres on April 1st, but it was snowing and the government moved the deadline. Then I was in the UK for a month, and today was the first chance I've had to get down to the garage. I've also booked the car in to get the exhaust looked at next week. There's definitely a hole in it somewhere, and I'm hoping that they can patch it rather than have to fit an entire new exhaust.
Still, the car is already a little quieter thanks to the smoother tyres. It'll be nice to have a much quieter car once the exhaust is fixed.
0 comments
I eventually got a message to Elizabeth, the sender of my mystery parcel, and she emailed me some more details. These were duly passed on to customs yesterday and at 20:50 this evening the postman arrived with my parcel.
Yes, I did say 20:50. They deliver parcels late so that people are in to receive them. Quite a good idea, that. Anyway, my parcel is a beautiful set of silver, onyx and mother-of-pearl necklace and earings. I shall wear them tomorrow at graduation.
We had the rehearsal for graduation earlier this evening. That's a full rehearsal, so that everone knows what they're doing and when. I've clearly been spoiled by graduation ceremonies in the past, in beautiful concert halls and the like, although I must admit that they've decorated the sports hall very tastefully for the occasion. :) I cheated - as I'm not actually taking part in the ceremony (there was a chance I'd be reading names or handing out certificates) I escaped rather than sit through the same thing twice.
The other highlight of the day was changing the tyres on the car. I should have changed to the summer tyres on April 1st, but it was snowing and the government moved the deadline. Then I was in the UK for a month, and today was the first chance I've had to get down to the garage. I've also booked the car in to get the exhaust looked at next week. There's definitely a hole in it somewhere, and I'm hoping that they can patch it rather than have to fit an entire new exhaust.
Still, the car is already a little quieter thanks to the smoother tyres. It'll be nice to have a much quieter car once the exhaust is fixed.
0 comments
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Black hole builder
We Are Not Worthy...
Just over a year ago I reported that the folks at Brookhaven announced that they'd created something that looked rather like a black hole - a colour glass condensate, as they described it.
At the time I was quite impressed by this. Today I was astounded and awestruck to discover that one of my colleagues was actually on the team that did the analysis of that data run. Nikolai and I were wandering over to a faculty meeting talking about papers and about the Arxiv online archive, when I mentioned that the last paper I'd read there was this one about a black hole created at Brookhaven. Nikolai then, in a very matter-of-fact manner, said that he'd been involved with it.
I'm a sad enough physics geek that I am both impressed and academically jealous. My original reason university plan was to read physics and theoretical physics so I could go into particle physics research, maybe work at CERN... except my maths capabilities are nowhere near good enough. Nikolai is off to CERN later in the year. I am soooo jealous...
I may have to stick a warning notice on his office door: Beware! Black Hole Builder.
0 comments
Just over a year ago I reported that the folks at Brookhaven announced that they'd created something that looked rather like a black hole - a colour glass condensate, as they described it.
At the time I was quite impressed by this. Today I was astounded and awestruck to discover that one of my colleagues was actually on the team that did the analysis of that data run. Nikolai and I were wandering over to a faculty meeting talking about papers and about the Arxiv online archive, when I mentioned that the last paper I'd read there was this one about a black hole created at Brookhaven. Nikolai then, in a very matter-of-fact manner, said that he'd been involved with it.
I'm a sad enough physics geek that I am both impressed and academically jealous. My original reason university plan was to read physics and theoretical physics so I could go into particle physics research, maybe work at CERN... except my maths capabilities are nowhere near good enough. Nikolai is off to CERN later in the year. I am soooo jealous...
I may have to stick a warning notice on his office door: Beware! Black Hole Builder.
0 comments
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
When (dt/dt !=1)
Ever had one of those days when you feel that you've worked a full day already and it's only noon?
That's what today felt like. I've spent the day writing a white paper on marking schemes for final year projects, combined with marking grids for the interim and final reports for said projects. It may sound silly, but writing these grids is hellishly difficult. You have to be able to come up with easily quantifiable quality measures that will allow you to differentiate between different student grades.
We have a twenty-point grading scheme, 0.5 to 10 in increments of 0.5 . To pass the students need to achieve a grade of 5. This means that half of the scale is pretty much useless - I'm more interested in being able to distinguish levels of pass than of levels of failure. So I create grids with a rating of 1 to 6 (where 1 is a fail and 6 is exceptional) on one axis and the items I'm looking for (organisation, presentation, background reading, design, whatever) on the other. I then have to produce a description of what I expect to see at each level for each item.
This is not as easy as it sounds. It's simple enough to define the basic pass (rating 2) and the exceptional (which are the two I start with) but the three between are quite tricky. As a result, creating one of these grids takes a lot of effort, but this is paid back when it comes to marking. No longer do you have to say is this a 10/15 or an 11/15? but you can say ok, this meets these criteria so it's a 5. You then simply look up the overall score (somewhere between 1.00 and 6.00) in a translation table and presto! the final grade on your 0.5 to 10 scale.
I was introduced to this at RGU, where I hated the time I had to put into creating these things. I didn't realise that this system is at the forefront of what is considered good assessment practice, as we were told at an assessment methods and quality control workshop that we held here in Akureyri last year.
Finally I got them finished late this afternoon. Just in time for a day of meetings tomorrow, when no doubt, dt/dt will not equal 1 again.
0 comments
That's what today felt like. I've spent the day writing a white paper on marking schemes for final year projects, combined with marking grids for the interim and final reports for said projects. It may sound silly, but writing these grids is hellishly difficult. You have to be able to come up with easily quantifiable quality measures that will allow you to differentiate between different student grades.
We have a twenty-point grading scheme, 0.5 to 10 in increments of 0.5 . To pass the students need to achieve a grade of 5. This means that half of the scale is pretty much useless - I'm more interested in being able to distinguish levels of pass than of levels of failure. So I create grids with a rating of 1 to 6 (where 1 is a fail and 6 is exceptional) on one axis and the items I'm looking for (organisation, presentation, background reading, design, whatever) on the other. I then have to produce a description of what I expect to see at each level for each item.
This is not as easy as it sounds. It's simple enough to define the basic pass (rating 2) and the exceptional (which are the two I start with) but the three between are quite tricky. As a result, creating one of these grids takes a lot of effort, but this is paid back when it comes to marking. No longer do you have to say is this a 10/15 or an 11/15? but you can say ok, this meets these criteria so it's a 5. You then simply look up the overall score (somewhere between 1.00 and 6.00) in a translation table and presto! the final grade on your 0.5 to 10 scale.
I was introduced to this at RGU, where I hated the time I had to put into creating these things. I didn't realise that this system is at the forefront of what is considered good assessment practice, as we were told at an assessment methods and quality control workshop that we held here in Akureyri last year.
Finally I got them finished late this afternoon. Just in time for a day of meetings tomorrow, when no doubt, dt/dt will not equal 1 again.
0 comments
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
More garb projects
Never launder your SCA whites while watching a documentary on Elizabeth I.
I did last night and, as a result, I've decided that I really ought to get around to doing a pair of blackwork sleeves to go with my blue kirtle. I have several options for this:
In the long term I want to do 3, although that's likely to be very much a long term project. 1 would probably be the quickest to do, but it would mean undoing the armscyres of the kirtle to add the bits to which the sleeves would be laced. This is something I'm going to have to do in the long term anyway.
2 is the most likely in the short term (if you can consider the time taken to do the embroidery as 'short' term). It would probably require a bit more blackwork than 1, but less farting about with other things (I hate armscyres).
In the meantime, the kirtle itself is going into the washing machine tonight.
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I did last night and, as a result, I've decided that I really ought to get around to doing a pair of blackwork sleeves to go with my blue kirtle. I have several options for this:
- Make a detachable pair of embroidered sleeves that can be attached to the kirtle as desired
- Make an embroidered partlet
- Make an embroidered chemise
In the long term I want to do 3, although that's likely to be very much a long term project. 1 would probably be the quickest to do, but it would mean undoing the armscyres of the kirtle to add the bits to which the sleeves would be laced. This is something I'm going to have to do in the long term anyway.
2 is the most likely in the short term (if you can consider the time taken to do the embroidery as 'short' term). It would probably require a bit more blackwork than 1, but less farting about with other things (I hate armscyres).
In the meantime, the kirtle itself is going into the washing machine tonight.
0 comments
Monday, June 05, 2006
New garb project
I've been giving more thought to this Spanish SCA persona thing.
As I've mentioned before, my viking persona isn't really compatible with my main SCA interests nowadays. I'm pretty certain that I'm going to develop a renaissance Spanish persona as well (or maybe instead), so Ive been doing a bit of research on renaissance Spain. And I think I may have found something rather interesting...
The Moorish kingdom of Granada didn't fall until 1492 and until then was a moderate, scientifically literate region where Moslems, Christians and Jews lived peacefully side by side, all wearing similar clothing styles and generally respecting their neighbours. It was a land where women were educated, and where there were no barriers to a woman being a scientist, a doctor or a librarian if she so wished. Of course, this all changed in 1492 when the Inquisition arrived and many of the educated left.
Not only this, but the clothing of the period is relatively simple and designed to look best in heavy silks. As it happens, I have inherited quite a lot of heavy Malaysian silks in rich colours. Several layers of silk would be marvelously warm in winter and pleasantly cool in summer. I think that when I go back to Liverpool in July I'm going to have to make sure I have enough space to bring the fabric back with me.
Even better, many of the designs would be wearable outside the SCA. Short silk tunics are very versatile pieces of clothing. :)
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As I've mentioned before, my viking persona isn't really compatible with my main SCA interests nowadays. I'm pretty certain that I'm going to develop a renaissance Spanish persona as well (or maybe instead), so Ive been doing a bit of research on renaissance Spain. And I think I may have found something rather interesting...
The Moorish kingdom of Granada didn't fall until 1492 and until then was a moderate, scientifically literate region where Moslems, Christians and Jews lived peacefully side by side, all wearing similar clothing styles and generally respecting their neighbours. It was a land where women were educated, and where there were no barriers to a woman being a scientist, a doctor or a librarian if she so wished. Of course, this all changed in 1492 when the Inquisition arrived and many of the educated left.
Not only this, but the clothing of the period is relatively simple and designed to look best in heavy silks. As it happens, I have inherited quite a lot of heavy Malaysian silks in rich colours. Several layers of silk would be marvelously warm in winter and pleasantly cool in summer. I think that when I go back to Liverpool in July I'm going to have to make sure I have enough space to bring the fabric back with me.
Even better, many of the designs would be wearable outside the SCA. Short silk tunics are very versatile pieces of clothing. :)
0 comments
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Today the sun will not set
Instead it will set at 00h01 tomorrow.
I think this makes this place officially a 'land of the midnight sun'. From where I sit I can't see the still-high sun behind a layer of cloud, but I do know that it's still well above the mountains. The snow-capped mountains.
The big question is is this the end of the snow? Last year we had a three month snow-free period of June, July and August. I wonder how long it will last this year?
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I think this makes this place officially a 'land of the midnight sun'. From where I sit I can't see the still-high sun behind a layer of cloud, but I do know that it's still well above the mountains. The snow-capped mountains.
The big question is is this the end of the snow? Last year we had a three month snow-free period of June, July and August. I wonder how long it will last this year?
0 comments
Saturday, June 03, 2006
The joys of laundry
I'm sure I shouldn't feel this good about doing laundry.
With my washing machine now safely esconced in the bathroom I have done four loads of washing, reducing the mountain of laundry in the corner of my bedroom to a small hillock of muddy garb.
In some ways I'm impressed that during the last eleven months of hand washing with the occasional use of a friend's machine, I have managed to keep sufficiently abreast of it that there were only four loads to do - and as the machine is only a 5kg load, they weren't even particularly large loads.
The weather today has been particularly conducive to laundry as well. I have two collapsible clothes horses that can be taken out onto the balcony, and in the time it took a second load to wash the first load had dried. I could bring them in and happily inhale the smell of wind-dried clothes, so different to that of the radiator-dried.
Tomorrow is garb and bedding. I know that the garb will take longer to dry, but I don't mind that. It'll be nice to just throw my fencing shirt into the machine rather than having to soak and scrub it by hand.
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With my washing machine now safely esconced in the bathroom I have done four loads of washing, reducing the mountain of laundry in the corner of my bedroom to a small hillock of muddy garb.
In some ways I'm impressed that during the last eleven months of hand washing with the occasional use of a friend's machine, I have managed to keep sufficiently abreast of it that there were only four loads to do - and as the machine is only a 5kg load, they weren't even particularly large loads.
The weather today has been particularly conducive to laundry as well. I have two collapsible clothes horses that can be taken out onto the balcony, and in the time it took a second load to wash the first load had dried. I could bring them in and happily inhale the smell of wind-dried clothes, so different to that of the radiator-dried.
Tomorrow is garb and bedding. I know that the garb will take longer to dry, but I don't mind that. It'll be nice to just throw my fencing shirt into the machine rather than having to soak and scrub it by hand.
0 comments
Friday, June 02, 2006
A fully functional battlestation
OK, maybe not a battle station.
I now have a washing machine that sits in the bathroom and has successfully run through its first wash cycle. Unloaded, I admit, but this is the recommendation of the manual. I also now have a pair of flat-nosed pliers and also three new bolt-head adaptors for my screwdriver as pliers on their own didn't actually work.
Although this has been a success, there have also been two more failures. First, my vacuum cleaner has died. I plugged it in, turned it on, and it immediately blew the fuses in one half of the flat. Next my PC laptop died - or rather the male inner connection inside the computer that (theoretically) fits into the female plug that comes from the adapter broke off. I can therefore no longer power or charge my laptop. As it's less than six months old it will be going back to PC World to be fixed... when I get back to the UK, probably in July.
Fortunately I have my iBook, which has returned to the living room from the bedroom where it has been providing late-night entertainment beside the bed.
*Sigh*
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I now have a washing machine that sits in the bathroom and has successfully run through its first wash cycle. Unloaded, I admit, but this is the recommendation of the manual. I also now have a pair of flat-nosed pliers and also three new bolt-head adaptors for my screwdriver as pliers on their own didn't actually work.
Although this has been a success, there have also been two more failures. First, my vacuum cleaner has died. I plugged it in, turned it on, and it immediately blew the fuses in one half of the flat. Next my PC laptop died - or rather the male inner connection inside the computer that (theoretically) fits into the female plug that comes from the adapter broke off. I can therefore no longer power or charge my laptop. As it's less than six months old it will be going back to PC World to be fixed... when I get back to the UK, probably in July.
Fortunately I have my iBook, which has returned to the living room from the bedroom where it has been providing late-night entertainment beside the bed.
*Sigh*
0 comments
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Grrr...
Frustration, thy name is Ariston.
Let me explain. I am now the proud owner of a washing machine. A very cheap washing machine by Icelandic standards, but literally twice the price that it would have cost at Comet in the UK. I know, I checked. I know that I should really try to stop thinking in Sterling and should focus on Krona but I can't.
Had I bought it from Comet, they would have delivered and connected it free of charge. Instead I bought it, after a lot of hunting around to see if I could find one cheaper, from Byko, the Icelandic equivalent. Delivery cost me another 800kr (about £5, cheaper than bed delivery from Rúmfatalagerinn) and consisted of two student-aged guys carrying the washer up the stairs and putting it down in that bit of my 'hall' (I have a rather open-plan apartment) between the bathroom door and the bedroom door, still fully wrapped.
Ho hum, I thought. So I'm going to have to install it myself, am I? Right. First off, remove the packaging. Actually I was quite impressed at how the six pieces of expanded polystyrene that form the protective layer - top, bottom and four full-length corner pieces - fit together. Once you remove the top the corners just lift out. Very clever.
Now for the installation procedure itself. I suppose I'd better read the manual then. Don't you just hate it when you actually have to RTFM? Step one: remove the three screws and replace with the plastic covers provided. Plastic covers: check. Screws: hang on, they're not screws, they're bolts. And I can't actually reach two of them without a tool of some sort... OK, so not having a large toolkit with me here in Iceland I got the next best thing, my pseudo-leatherman. I've managed to get the upper screw out, and I will allow that it is technically a screw in that it is pointed at the end rather than being flat like a bolt. Unfortunately I can't get the two side 'screws' out without a real flat-nosed pair or preferably, a small device similar to that for removing bolts from car wheels. I also need a spirit level to make sure it's level, although I'm sure I can McGuyver something up to do that.
Right now, then, I have an inactive washing machine sitting in the flat taking up space. I can't move it into position until I've acquired the nut removing tool. I also have to change the plug because it comes with a normal europlug while I have strange old-style Icelandic sockets (I believe that they're the old Italian standard). Still, I suppose it means that I can look forward to a full and uninterrupted weekend getting to know my new toy and, at the same time, making some headway into the pile of laundry that has been growing and growing since I arrived and realised that this was a hand-wash only apartment.
Wish me luck.
1 comments
Let me explain. I am now the proud owner of a washing machine. A very cheap washing machine by Icelandic standards, but literally twice the price that it would have cost at Comet in the UK. I know, I checked. I know that I should really try to stop thinking in Sterling and should focus on Krona but I can't.
Had I bought it from Comet, they would have delivered and connected it free of charge. Instead I bought it, after a lot of hunting around to see if I could find one cheaper, from Byko, the Icelandic equivalent. Delivery cost me another 800kr (about £5, cheaper than bed delivery from Rúmfatalagerinn) and consisted of two student-aged guys carrying the washer up the stairs and putting it down in that bit of my 'hall' (I have a rather open-plan apartment) between the bathroom door and the bedroom door, still fully wrapped.
Ho hum, I thought. So I'm going to have to install it myself, am I? Right. First off, remove the packaging. Actually I was quite impressed at how the six pieces of expanded polystyrene that form the protective layer - top, bottom and four full-length corner pieces - fit together. Once you remove the top the corners just lift out. Very clever.
Now for the installation procedure itself. I suppose I'd better read the manual then. Don't you just hate it when you actually have to RTFM? Step one: remove the three screws and replace with the plastic covers provided. Plastic covers: check. Screws: hang on, they're not screws, they're bolts. And I can't actually reach two of them without a tool of some sort... OK, so not having a large toolkit with me here in Iceland I got the next best thing, my pseudo-leatherman. I've managed to get the upper screw out, and I will allow that it is technically a screw in that it is pointed at the end rather than being flat like a bolt. Unfortunately I can't get the two side 'screws' out without a real flat-nosed pair or preferably, a small device similar to that for removing bolts from car wheels. I also need a spirit level to make sure it's level, although I'm sure I can McGuyver something up to do that.
Right now, then, I have an inactive washing machine sitting in the flat taking up space. I can't move it into position until I've acquired the nut removing tool. I also have to change the plug because it comes with a normal europlug while I have strange old-style Icelandic sockets (I believe that they're the old Italian standard). Still, I suppose it means that I can look forward to a full and uninterrupted weekend getting to know my new toy and, at the same time, making some headway into the pile of laundry that has been growing and growing since I arrived and realised that this was a hand-wash only apartment.
Wish me luck.
1 comments