" Tamworth , heart of Mercia's Kingdom, home of many a Saxon King" went the words of our school song ( actually adopted after our merger ). Tamworth has been the town I use most, I went to school there and after nearly 30 years around Britain once again I'm living in a nearby village. We actually bought a house here 22 years ago but I then spent another 8 years or so living in Oxford before finally settling 13 years ago.

I didn't set out to live near Tamworth again. When we moved to the Midlands we set our house search far and wide, north of Rugeley, east as far as Derby, west to the outskirts of Birmingham. It was in a way a happy coincidence that the house that suited was near Tamworth. I say a happy coincidence not because I like Tamworth particularly. While I was away it changed completely from a small market town of about 12000 population to a sprawl of over 75000. I particularly dislike the tower blocks in the centre of Tamworth which are a disaster, completely out of scale, and ruining a valuable skyline of church and castle.

What I do like is the resonance of so many places I remember from my childhood. There are also practical advantages in that many of Annette's family live in the area.

In pre Norman times Tamworth was the capital town of Mercia, the kingdom which covered most of middle England. Famously it extended to the Welsh border where Offa built a dyke to keep the Welsh out. We shouldn't have the idea that Tamworth was the most important town in Mercia- more a Canberra than a London, a Washington not a New York. At that time a king would spent much of his time moving around his kingdom with his court.

I've been enjoying ants jokes. Examples are too numerous to list but just a few

Where do ants go for their holidays
Frants

What do you call an ant who skips school
A truant

What do you call a greedy ant
An anteater

How many ants are needed to fill an apartment
Ten ants

"Have a go, Joe, come on and have a go" was the jaunty song which greeted "Have a go" a radio show very popular in the 40's and 50's. My father was a great fan and we rarely missed a show. Introduced by Wilfred Pickles ( or as he always said if in Scotland, Wally MacPickles ) this was superficially a sort of quiz show. However the real purpose was the introductory chat Wilfred Pickles conducted with each contestant. Although I didn't realise it at the time Wilfred Pickles was a big departure for the BBC in that he was a northerner with accent to match. Not long previously the BBC was strictly for southern English.

Billed as "presenting the people to the people" the chat with Wilfred was designed to draw people out; people who had never been on radio before. Radio was then usually known as "wireless". Among his standard questions was " if you could say I love you darling but, what would the but be?" I don't recall any particularly shocking answers; usually things like "I wish you wouldn't squeeze the toothpaste tube in the middle".

The quiz was tailored to each contestant and designed to be answered correctly. The prices were modest in shillings rather than pounds. At the end Wilfred would shout triumphantly "Give him the money, Barney" referring to producer Barney Colehan. An example question was a miner being asked what is collier's ham- the answer being jam. The same miner was asked what is "snap"- the answer being packed food for eating at break or snap time.

One riddle he asked sticks in my mind

What goes up a chimney up, but won't come down a chimney, down?

Although perhaps not a usual subject for a blog I feel I can write with some authority on mulches. A mulch is a layer of material placed on top of the soil to suppress weeds or retain moisture. In addition it can make bare soil look better.

We have used a number of different types. Almost always we use a black woven plastic sheet as the first layer. This is designed as a ground cover and lets water through. For what were the lower lawns we put down a layer of sand and then fine stones, some coloured plus some ornamental paving. This is fairly successful although the sand does permit weeds to grow through the stones. To prevent this I'm using sodium chlorate solution as a weedkiller. This has the problem that it kills all growing material until thoroughly washed away which takes several months. It does promote fire and commercial products contain a fire retardent. I took advantage of commercial chemical purchasing to buy a bag which I'm using without retardent on the sand/stone mulch. I'm also finding some use as a stump killer.

Around growing plants we have been mainly using wood chip plus some semi composted leaves. Wood chip ( not bark which often used commercially ) is fairly effective although it composts slowly on the ground and does allow some weed growth. Weedkiller is used with extreme caution because I'm often using wood chip around growing plants. It makes sense to use some nitrogenous fertiliser as the decomposing wood chip takes nitrogen out of the soil. We are using the chipped residue from tree surgeons which is available fairly cheaply when bought by the ( small )lorry load. I've just ordered our third load. Although this seems a lot a thick layer is needed. The first load we had from a woodyard was too coarse but the output from a tree surgeons chipper seems better.

I've said before how highly I rate Wendy Cope. The first of hers that caught my eye follows. It's not funny but rather desperately poignant.

Bloody men are like bloody buses-
You wait for about a year
And as soon as one approaches your stop
Two or three others appear

You look at them flashing their indicators
Offering you a ride
You're trying to read the destinations
You haven't much time to decide

If you make a mistake, there is no turning back
Jump off and you'll stand there and gaze
While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by
And the minutes, the hours, the days

Our book club Christmas meeting went famously. The idea of guessing who had written what didn't work as everyone knew immediately. My verses as a second entry were the only thing which aroused any doubt. What added to the interest was that most people elaborated a little on what they had written and the background was fascinating. The most "professional" writing I thought had been written for publication but we were told it had been written as an exercise on a writing course. Over our meal we had Bruce Newling's quiz which aroused quite a lot of amusement. Most of the food questions members knew.

Our convenor presented superbly gift wrapped parcels at the end of the evening. It was almost a disappointment to realise they contained next months book, the classic science fiction title "Dune".

We are getting pre planning permission information about a proposal for wind turbines in the parish area. The opposition is so vehement that I begin to wonder about the motives. It seems to go further than the NIMBYism we must expect. I wonder whether climate change denial goes so deep with some that they want to avoid any overt countermeasures. I personally know many people who are very resistant to any change, no matter how slight, to their custom. An example is low energy light bulbs where it seems for some any excuse is good enough to avoid them. Someone I know has deliberately stocked up with filament bulbs to avoid using them. With longer life and lower cost low energy bulbs this seems peculiar not to say irrational.

When I wrote recently about media reporting I half remembered the following from Humbert Wolfe.

You cannot hope
to bribe or twist
thank God! the
British journalist

But, seeing what
the man will do
unbribed, there's
no occasion to

I'm finding the Kynaston book covering 1945-51 fascinating. It is massive in size, not just covering the obvious but all kinds of trivia, some of which I remember. Living out in the country half a mile from the nearest village we were more than usually cut off. The radio ( always called wireless ) was a focal point for news and entertainment. Naturally I enjoyed Children's Hour with Norman and Henry Bones, the boy detectives and Toytown ( Please Mr Mayor bleated Larry the Lamb ). I remember now the signing off by Uncle Mac, "Goodnight children, everywhere" and feeling I was part of a nationwide community.

I also enjoyed, albeit without understanding half the jokes, the famous ITMA comedy. Anchor Tommy Handley was surrounded by weird and wonderful characters such as Mona Lott ( It's being so cheerful keeps me going she would say, miserably ). My father was a huge fan of Wilfred Pickles "Have a go". Ostensibly a quiz show it was I suppose an early reality show. Introducing the people to the people was its boast, and it did.

One of my puzzles now is whether I remember VE day. I certainly remember sitting on my fathers shoulders and with mother, Aunt Rene and Uncle Phil watching a firework display on the Castle Grounds. I would have been almost three so its plausible, but it could have been a Carnival day.

I introduced the St Ives riddle. The answer is one. As I was going to St Ives is the first line, I met the man with wives etc coming the other way.
Always read the question was drummed into us at school before exams.

Alison has passed her old mobile phone to Ellie. She has been exchanging text messages with Annette. Always mis-spelt but excellent practice for her. Annette is trying to reply using simple words.

A propos of nothing I quote a rhyme from Wendy Cope entitled" Verse for a birthday card"

Many happy returns and good luck
When it comes to a present I'm stuck
If you weren't so far away
On your own special day
I could give you a really nice glass of lager

Reading Kynaston's Austerity Britain 1945-1951 has made me think about my early boyhood. I've realised that at that time my family were not as poor as later. My father who was a miner was in steady employment and hadn't then had severe health problems. The austerity period was not so bad for my family. My father had an allotment in addition to our garden. We kept poultry and so with eggs and fowls plus vegetables we were able to supplement our rations. My mother also took full advantage of living in the country to pick blackberries, buy apples and other fruit and make jam and desserts. We also had things like water cress picked in local streams. On one occasion we even had a rabbit shot by a neighbour.

My father was able to buy a much cherished motor bike and sidecar. In the 40's we even used it to go on holiday. This was a completely new experience for me as I had never been on holiday before. We went to Southsea. My uncle had written down a route in the form of a town to town guide. On the pillion my mother had to shout instructions as we followed the route. As we neared the south coast there was still ample evidence of the D-day preparations as shelters still lined the roads. I think this was in 1947. I earned praise for being steadfast in the open side car packed around with luggage.

A highlight of our holiday was nearby Portsmouth where it was Navy Days when many ships were open for visitors. I remember going around HMS Vanguard, the last battleship, where the huge size of the guns impressed me. I perhaps commented on what I saw as the gallantry of the sailors at the bottom of the near vertical steps between decks as they helped all the ladies. My mother laughed cynically.

The Kynaston book has some wonderful quotes such as the lugubrious Lester Piggott who won his first race described as "having a face like a well tended grave".

After my log cutting I've been amused by the Hegley verse called "A comparison of logs and dogs"

both are very popular at Christmas
but it is not considered cruel
to abandon a log
and dogs are rarely used as fuel

Inspired by the Royal Flower Show coverage on TV a few weeks ago I've designed and built an ultramodern pergola. It is triangular in plan. This suited the fact I only had 3 uprights available and it fitted the plot nicely. Not that it took much design as it is very simple. We have planted a clematis and a wisteria to ( hopefully ) drape over it. The clematis montana I transplanted from elsewhere but the wisteria is new. The wisteria looks rather sorry for itself but I read it can be a long time before they become established. We shall see.

Not an improvement but I've been forced to repair my shed roof after the wind tore some of the felt. I ended up doing a rather slovenly job putting new felt on top of old. My shed is 21 years old and it's side covering boards have warped badly. As a consequence it is starting to let in driving rain. The boards are also coming loose and requiring frequent refixing. Before erecting the shed ( on a pre-existing base ) I spent some time reinforcing the floor and treating the wood. I'm glad I did as I'm hoping it will last a while longer.

Neither an improvement or a repair, I've bought a log vice to make cutting logs easier. Short lengths which are too short for a saw horse I was finding very difficult. As it has only just arrived I haven't tried it yet. It won't be very cost effective but hopefully it enables me to use wood otherwise lost.

I've always been fond of my mothers favourite riddle

As I was going to St Ives
I met a man with seven wives
Each wife had seven sacks
Each sack had seven cats
Each cat had seven kits
Kits, cats, sacks and wives
How many were going to St Ives.

Think about it, the answer is in the verse.

The Roald Dahl version is

As I was going to St Ives
I met a man with seven wives
Said he I think its much more fun
Than getting stuck with only one

Since my recent item on climate change it occurs to me that the term greenhouse effect is glibly bandied about without any explanation.
Essentially it refers to heat trapped as more comes in than can get out.

A greenhouse as used by gardeners traps heat inside by allowing light and warmth in but not so easily letting it out. When I was a cub scientist the explanation I was given was that glass ( or plastic ) allows light in, part of which is absorbed by the contents and re-emitted as heat radiation. However glass doesn't allow the heat radiation to escape very easily so the greenhouse warms up.

Looking at Wikipaedia ( online encyclopedia) I see they ascribe most of the effect in a greenhouse to the fact that hot air inside can't easily escape. I think they mean that the hot air is produced by light being absorbed and re-radiated as heat. Normally hot air would be released through convection but in a large closed container this is much reduced.

The greenhouse effect in the atmosphere isn't exactly the same but rather similar. Sunlight is increasingly trapped as heat. I was also surprised to read that water vapour ( clouds etc ) are a very potent greenhouse gas but they have, of course, stayed roughly constant while the level of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere has increased a lot as fossil fuels have been burnt.

Much has been made by climate change deniers of hacked emails from a big climate research organisation in the UK. These actually show a normal level of uncertainty and checking. What climate change scientists can rightly be criticised for is their increasing reluctance to allow their data to be examined by sceptics.

Looking for something funny to say about climate I came across the thought provoking quote from Gerald Brenan " In a happy marriage it is the wife who provides the climate, the husband the landscape"

I almost hesitate to comment and yet it is such an important subject it cannot be ignored.

As far as I can see the climate is warming as an objective fact.

Climate change is occurring as supported by abundant evidence- earlier springs, wetter summers, rising sea levels and so on.

What is more controversial is why this is happening. The consensus is clear that it is a result of the build up of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere. These greenhouse gases are carbon dioxide and methane. It appears that carbon dioxide is increasing because of the use of carbon containing fuels ( oil, coal etc ) which when burnt create carbon dioxide. It is less certain that methane, a more potent greenhouse gas, is increasing but it probably is. There is thought to be vast amounts of methane trapped on earth. There is a risk that warming may release this trapped methane.

There is a small respectable minority which suggest the climate is warming slightly because of fluctuations in the amount of solar radiation falling on the earth.

There is a small but very vocal minority who see the idea of climate change as some sort of vast conspiracy. Their tactics fall well outside any conventional scientific discussion.

It seems to me that the Stern report ( issued in the UK a couple of years ago ) puts the matter about right. Stern says the danger is so large that it is worthwhile spending something of the order of 1% of the world's wealth to avoid any risk. This would mean spending this amount every year for perhaps the next fifty years.

There is a notion sometimes propagated that if the UK warms by a few degrees this would be no bad thing. That we would enjoy a climate say more typical of France. This is dangerous nonsense. Climate change simply doesn't work like that. At present the UK enjoys a mild climate because it benefits from the Gulf Stream, a mass of water moving across from the tropics. This ensures our position which is rather far north enjoys the climate of a more southerly character. The Gulf Stream will probably be disrupted by Arctic melting and the UK would become more like Norway. Not a prospect which would be welcome.

Q What do you call a boomerang which doesn't come back?
A A stick.

I was pleased ( and a bit relieved ) after my rant on bank charges the other day, and their media treatment, to find a poll which shows 51% support the court decision. I've been noticing the media treatment ever since. The usually reliable Economist was rather dubious although pointing out what was at stake. It has taken the good old Financial Times ( or one columnist therein) to give a ringing endorsement.

It has become a media story to say how music CD's sales are falling, always attributed to internet access. I've just encountered the backlash. I bought the new Air CD and innocently tried to play it as usual on my computer. Wouldn't play, just stuttered, but to add insult to injury banjaxed my computer. Thank heavens System Restore has cured the problem ( touch wood ). I have read that some anti copying software on CD's can do this but never encountered it before.

I'm the last person in the world to talk about simplification and order. I hoard everything, am lazy about filing and tidying, and my home office is very messy. However I was very impressed by an article I read years ago about Kelly Johnson who designed the Skyhawk naval jet. Among his breakthroughs he looked at aircraft carrier lifts whose small size had made folding wings necessary on naval aircraft. He figured that with a small delta wing he could avoid the weight and complication and do without wing folding. The Skyhawk became a big seller and Johnson asked the secret of that success said simplify and add lightness.

As a formulation chemist I had observed that greater complexity often led to unexpected disadvantages. I therefore lectured my team on the advantages of simplicity. Generally it paid off. So much so that I feel I can spot an amateur formulator by the complexity of his formulations. ( As lawyers always say, construe both genders )

I strive for simplicity in my present life. Often I'm unsuccessful although in some cases such as my computer database of books it has worked well.

One of my favourite contemporary poets is Wendy Cope. I enjoyed going to her poetry workshop at the Lichfield Festival some years ago.
A short verse of hers

Some people like sex more than others-
You seem to like it a lot
There's nothing wrong with being innocent or high-minded
But I'm glad that you're not

I have long since realised that much of what passes for news is journalist's prejudice. The past couple of days does seem to have shown an example which would be laughable if it wasn't so serious. Much of the media ( press and TV ) had worked themselves up into thinking that people with unauthorised overdrafts had been unfairly treated. As complainants had won in lower courts there was widespread disbelief when the Supreme Court decided the treatment was fair.

The burden of complaint was that those with unauthorised overdrafts were charged up to £30 to have a letter to that effect. Clearly as banks are perceived as Public Enemy No 1 they thought they were on a good thing. What was never said was that the complainants expected other bank users to subsidise their behaviour. Much was made of the fact that the letters might only cost the banks £2. What was never conceded was that the extra charge was a penalty. One might just as well argue a letter from the police over speeding only costs £2 to send so why exert a penalty of £60.

As is clear from the above I agree strongly with the Supreme Court,- in fact it is worrying that lower courts took a different view. However my purpose is not to discuss the merits of the case but how the final judgement was reported. With virtually no exceptions the media took the position the verdict was a tragedy. The BBC even went so far as to broadcast someone who said the banks and court had colluded. This was a perfect example of media groupthink. The nearest I heard to a balanced view was on the ONEshow where the economics correspondent did go so far as to concede there might possibly be a counter argument. However the context was one of sorrow for the poor complainants.

A free society depends on a well informed population. Clearly this will always be imperfect but if the communications media is so distorted how on earth can people be well informed?

Lord Byron on journalists

A would be satirist, a hired buffoon
A monthly scribbler of some low lampoon
Condemned to drudge, the meanest of the mean
And furnish falsehoods for a magazine

I have referred occasionally to my brother-in-law Ray. As I said early in the year he is ill. As the request of my sister-in-law, Pat, I didn't explain that he is suffering from early onset senile dementia. After various trials and tribulations in hospitals and homes he is comparatively settled in a home near Leicester. It is tragic to see this clever and funny man so reduced. It has been- still is- awful for Pat. Although effectively a widow her husband is still alive. I suppose the only good thing I can say is that he seems comparatively happy although it is a peculiar form of happiness where he lives in a sort of netherworld not recognising his family or anything of his past life.

Pat has been staunch in supporting him both while still at home and while he has been trying different accommodation. She is just reaching the stage where she can move on. A very literal move as she is selling their former home. Buying something suitable won't be easy as she sensibly wants to stay in the village where they have lived for over 40 years. Selling is not easy as they had lived in their present house for about 30 years and had just had it modified and extended for their retirement.

Ironically my only previous experience was with Pat's mother who lived cheerfully with Alzheimer's for many years. Although she had no memory at all she was always cheery and bright. I sat with her for a while at Carol's wedding. Doesn't the bride look lovely she said not realising it was her granddaughter. When I told her that she could be proud, she knew for a brief time, before wondering again who the bride was.

Ray is the brother closest in age to Annette and as he started courting Pat at much the same time as I started courting Annette we occasionally made a foursome. We all took our final exams at about the same time and celebrated with a camping holiday near Wastwater in the Lake District. We made a mistake and only took 3 airbeds. Ray immediately offered to manage without and suffered uncomplainingly although he did say on the final day he was quite glad to leave for warmth and comfort.

Both Annette and I are suffering from post viral conditions; cough, reduced hearing and fatigue. In this condition I haven't done as much as I expected. I have finished cutting down and logging our stags horn tree. It died last summer but why I have no idea. It is a prolific self seeder so we have lots of little stags horn growing. I plan a cull of these selecting a couple of the strongest and best situated to grow on. I'm sorry to see it go. It hosted the bird feeders and it was always entertaining to see squirrels trying to get at the food. I don't know quite how but they could extract fat balls until Annette took to putting a stone on top. We have also invested in a squirrel cage to put over our bird food tray. They seem to have little trouble in penetrating it although it does keep pigeons away.

I've been vastly entertained by James May's Toy Stories ( note to self- this blog is starting to become a TV criticism one ). All the toys are familiar to me although I was rather old for things like Scalectric which has just been featured. The 1:1 scale plastic Spitfire was a triumph. I was very disappointed to learn that Meccano is now French although pleased to see it still exists. Exists in the original metal and bolt form not just the plastic variety we have bought for Alex. We are promised a full size Lego house. I'm too old for Lego but our children played with it a lot. Whether this will be true for grandchildren remains to be seen.

I'm a great fan of Winston Churchill. It was said of him that during WW11 he mobilised the English Language as a major weapon. A great many sayings are attributed to him. One I hadn't heard until recently is " I strive for the ability to foretell what is going to happen tomorrow , next week,next month and next year- and to have the ability to explain afterwards why it didn't happen".
When visited by a Mormon Churchill offered a whisky and soda. The Mormon rejected it saying "May I have water, Sir Winston? Lions drink it" to which Churchill replied "Asses drink it too".
Churchill was a Victorian and retained some of his youthful prejudices. He rather relished his reputation for misogyny. When Nancy Astor became the first woman MP she became rather the butt of his humour; although quick witted Nancy gave as good as she got. One famous exchange occurred when she was exasperated by him " Winston, if I was married to you I'd give you poison". Churchill's instant reply " Madam, if I was married to you I'd take it".

I'm taking advantage of Annette being away in Guildford grannying to indulge in an orgy of DVD watching. While there are some areas where our tastes are similar there are others where they diverge. One such is the US series "Homicide:Life on the street". Set in Baltimore in the 80's this is a cops and robbers show but far from the penny dreadful title it is a surprisingly cerebral series following a homicide department shift.

Although it uses the the ensemble acting and multi threaded plot pioneered in "Hill Street Blues" it broke new ground in the majority black city by having a high proportion of blacks in the team. However it makes race as just a part of the problems of the city with drugs being the main one. I admire the high quality of the best US series amid a sea of mediocrity. I deplore the present fashion for "reality" TV which I find boring.

"Homicide" moves towards the "documentary" style which is a feature of some current TV drama. The humour in the series arises naturally out of the characters. My main problem with the programme is that the dialogue is often rather throw away and hard to hear. I actually discovered the best joke on the internet as it was easy to miss in the programme. Detective Meldrick Lewis and partner are called to a body in a library. The partner asks Lewis if its murder. Lewis drawls "either that or they have a very strict overdue books policy".

As I wrote our investment club minutes I reflected that I've spent quite a time as a secretary under a variety of circumstances. My earliest high profile task was to record a brain storming session in my first job. The whole of the group involved took part and needed an outsider. I was their information scientist so was a natural choice. My boss worried that minuting the all day meeting would be tricky and suggested that we tape record the whole thing. The reputation of our information group was at stake and I spent a long time distilling the whole day down to about two hundred ideas. I was glad when it was all over. I must have done something right because later I was offered a secondment to the scientific group which was to change my whole career as I never returned to information work.

I had a long respite before years later for Castrol I was told I was to be secretary to a working group. These were half day meetings. I soon found I was hopeless at taking notes and the best plan was to write up immediately afterwards while it was still fresh in my mind. My write up was typed and circulated. One of our band of typists persuaded me to dictate the document, something I always felt awkward about.

For our investment club I've long since found out that it is best to write up immediately, the same evening. I use my notes just to prompt my memory.( Erratic memory is one of the classic tribulations of getting older. ) I was rather flustered because I was also taking menu choices and payment for our Christmas meal at our last meeting.

I'm amused by the quote from Jill Tweedie " How to be an effective secretary is to develop the kind of lonely self-abnegating sacrificial instincts usually possessed only by the early saints on their way to martyrdom". I plan to avoid becoming a martyr.

Like many of my generation among the first books I read were by Enid Blyton. I don't recall ever reading the "Famous Five" or "Secret Seven"- in fact I'm not sure I've got the names right. Things in books seemed very puzzling. I vividly recall reading about children wanting to play outside and looking through a window hoping for a change in the weather. They ask a wise adult ( mother? grandmother? ) when it will be fine. She replies "when there is enough blue sky to make a pair of sailor's trousers". I didn't understand then, don't now and I guess I never will what on earth this meant.

The play on TV about Enid Blyton makes her rather a sad figure. Driven to write, she neglects her own children and subjects them to the kind of miseries which so affected her own childhood. I was vaguely aware that she isn't considered politically correct as a children's author any more. Without subscribing to any of this I don't think my children were fans. Certainly, despite her continuing popularity, our grandchildren don't have any Enid Blyton as yet.

Having passed through the pink princesses and then fairy books stage Ellie is more concerned with school at present. Alison has to do a short trip overseas this week and Annette has gone down to look after Ellie and Nathan while she is away. This is doubly worrying as Annette has my cold and Nathan has been unwell. Hopefully both are on the road to recovery.
Alex, although focusing on trains and big diggers, is showing an interest in many other things. Although I see the reason's for the tremendous popularity of Thomas the Tank engine I can't help feeling it is somewhat overdone. Up with Bob the Builder!

I learned to read quickly driven by my desire to be able to access a wider range of stories. When I moved on to "children's books " of the fifties my bemusement grew. Clearly largely written for an upper middle class audience they didn't bear any resemblance to life as I knew it. I found comics such as Rover much more to my taste. I even chuckled at their jokes. "What's black and white and red all over?"" A newspaper"

Our weekend away in Oxford turned into a great disappointment. Not because of anything other than me getting a cold which came on the night before we left. Determined to tough it out I said we should still go despite feeling dreadful. We went first to Bicester outlet centre which was fantastically crowded. We struggled to find a parking space.

We had lunch at Pret a Manger ( also packed ) and I ate reasonably as usual. Taking a meal in the evening in the hotel was just too much and I only managed a few mouthful's before giving up.
We were in the Holiday Inn at Peartree and our last time there was meeting up before Alison and Steve's wedding. We had then spent one night before moving on to the Randolph for the night before the nuptials. This was to be our only family wedding with relatives and friends.
I had an interesting time because one of the guests had an identical name to our daughter. Whenever I saw her at the reception I made sure to make some humourous remark about the similarity in names.I forget exactly but something "so you're the impostor". I was a bit put out that she always looked rather puzzled- I thought perhaps my humour wasn't as funny as I thought. I found out later I was talking to the wrong girl! She must have thought Alison's father was a strange old coot.

We intended to go into Oxford on the Park'n'Ride on Saturday but I just felt too unwell. Annette went in briefly on her own. Briefly, because I'd infected her as well. We came back straightaway on Sunday so I never went out of the hotel in our whole visit.

I had a strange day yesterday. We have decided to join Frances( and baby Alice ) at the Saracen's Head carvery in King's Norton. We had also found we had lots of errands to run on the way. The first was to deliver copies of our book club writings to cousin Margaret. Got there OK , dropped them off and then the car wouldn't start. This is easily the most reliable car I have ever had and an infuriating time because our schedule was tight anyway. I must say the AA responded magnificently attending within 30 mins- a comfortable 30 mins as we joined Margaret in her house. The problem was a poor connection to the starter motor solenoid, solved in minutes. This gave just enough time to leave the other errands until later and head off to Birmingham.

The carvery is a once a week event, very nice but such was the queue the food was only lukewarm. As it happened Frances ( who soon goes back to work after maternity leave ) was meeting some friends so we soon left to do all the errands which were missed in the morning. It was as well I had more time as the pharmacist wanted to go over my extensive prescription. She was a charming Asian young lady. When I inquired about her accent it turned out she was a Brummie. I tactlessly said I had spent my life being identified around the country as a Brummie ( which I'm not ) and trying to get rid of the accent.

One of the problems with a blog is that feedback is rare. One reader bluntly said "too much economics" and as I take notice of the response I stopped writing about economics. However I must laud "Superfreakonomics" by Levitt and Dubner. Part of their teaser is the question "why should a suicide bomber buy life insurance". Apparently banks monitor their customer's transactions and scan the data for patterns which may reveal a terrorist. For example suspects tend not to use an ATM on Fridays ( this spots Muslims ). Another indicator of terrorism is that they don't buy life insurance which won't pay for suicide. There are many other factors in the screen and not all are revealed.

The take on economics is very much as applied to social problems. Economists are well suited to the task because they must try to use data from natural experiments as the usual kind of deliberate variation is closed to them; ( taking some terrorists and a control group and comparing their financial transactions is an impossible experiment ) Having said that they have some interesting observations on behavioral economics where small scale experiments have been conducted.

It is 20 years since the fall of the Berlin Wall. Symbolically this was the date of the collapse of communism. All my life up to that point we had lived under the threat of nuclear war. Although this hasn't disappeared at least it looks much more distant. I suspect the threat now is a terrorist attack using a nuclear device. I watched the fall on TV with the same sense of excitement and disbelief as most others. The year after I was in Germany during the official reunification celebrations. I was going to some meeting the following day and all this meant for me was an evening spent in a bar in Hamburg. As I recall nobody seemed particularly celebratory.

But how Europe has changed. I have been twice on holiday to Eastern Europe, something unthinkable before their independence. In fact our nomenclature has changed with these countries( Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, Poland )  now called Central Europe.

To me one of the puzzles of the pre 1989 era was the strange blindness, particularly in academic circles, to the evil's of communism. I think that many academics were left leaning and in love with some myth of a workers paradise which totally blinded them to the reality. One of the few prepared to speak out was Robert Conquest and he was met with disbelief by many and abuse by some.

I've just been reading the official history of MI 5, the Security Service. It is appalling how many crypto communists there were in British public life. Just to take one example I well remember reading eulogies on Jack Jones after his death. The bitter reality is that he was for many years a KGB agent. At least he gave up after the Russian invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1979. This happened while we were camping in France. After the Prague Spring for the first time there were Czech people holidaying in France.Then overnight they were gone as news of the invasion came.

The Eastern European jokes of the period were extremely bitter and not very funny to Western ears. I think one was " they only pretend to pay us so we only pretend to work"

An unlikely subject for my blog but it gives me chance to talk about something I've felt guilty about for years.

Fitting me out with uniform for secondary school was a considerable burden for my parents. They bought things like blazer and tie but sought to economise in other ways. My mother knitted me a school scarf. This was beautifully done with the love and care that a mother brings to the task. It was in the school colours of black, gold and red. However I used any excuse to avoid wearing it. The red was a slightly different shade to the official colour. At 11 years I just wanted to blend with the crowd, not stand out by having colours slightly wrong. I could never bring myself to explain why I dodged wearing this wonderful scarf and now it is many years too late. I can only hope the hurt wasn't too bad.

When we went to college ( Annette and I started at the same time ) it was the fashion to wear college scarves. These were in various colours and patterns denoting the various institutions. I thought this pretentious and extravagant; anyway I was wearing my previously rejected school scarf. In a very opinionated way I told Annette how I felt. She rather liked the fashion but not wanting to be seen to cross my ideas didn't wear one either. However at the end of the first year, when a number of her colleagues left, she bought one secondhand. By the end of the summer holiday the fad was dying out and she never did wear it much. She has ( I hope ) long since forgiven me. She certainly doesn't take such care over my opinions now. I'll bet my feminist daughters are appalled. All I can say was that in early courtship priorities are different.

Fashion is always a tricky subject. Some rather bizarre ideas come along, mainly for women. Sack dresses and maxi coats just to mention a couple that Annette went for. Sophia Loren had a view on dresses when she said a dress should be like a barbed wire fence- serving it's purpose without obstructing the view.