A Journeyman's Log

Moving

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Tue, 12 Nov 2013 09:07:00 +0000

For various reasons I plan to move this blog to a new wite: www.14sd.net Please click on to see more up-to-date entries. Thanks, Tony

Kites at Mottisfont

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Tue, 20 Aug 2013 09:23:00 +0000

Mottisfont Abbey is a National Trust property about 5 miles from Romsey, Hampshire. It was a great place to meet two friends with whom our main contact has been Christmas cards and letters while they lived outside the UK for many years. The tea shop did good trade as we sat and swapped stories of the years.

The house itself focuses on the 1930s and early 1940s as the woman who gave it to the NT used to entertain writers and artists of her time, the artists being persuaded to leave paintings and drawings which now hang in various rooms. The upper floor of the house has been opened as a gallery. The timeless original illustrations of various Winnie the Pooh books being the current exhibit.

One small space, though, was given to a display of kites by John Browning. John uses leaves and other natural items to build the most beautiful and fantastical kites. I was taken by this one which looks more like a nature-based decorative piece than a kite.

Each kite is given that name only after John has flown it. He gets his creation aloft, hands the string to a companion, then photographs the new kite.

John's long years as an industrial chemist help him devise new methods of turning leaves into the gauze-like skeletons he uses in his new designs.

Did you know that stinging nettles can provide a useful fibre to be spun into string?

Dover Lane Again

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Wed, 08 May 2013 20:17:00 +0000

Take the A27 from Arundel to Worthing, before Hammerpot turn left into Dover Lane. Drive slowly to reach a car park in a copse. Walk north, find the bridleway through woods and descend into the gallops.
A mile long, soft surfaced, uphill, muscle building gallop for racehorses trained nearby. One day it would be wonderful to see them, but on this the fourth or fifth visit none appeared.
After the long gentle ascent, a five-way intersection of bridleway and footpath. A panorama, north to the South Downs Way from Kithurst Hill to the descent into Houghton. West, the far side of the Arun valley. East - Harrow Hill and Blackpatch Hill north of Patching and Long Furlong.
Up the hill where ewes and this year's lambs graze or doze, many black-faced, some speckled - reminiscent of Jacob's dealings with Laban in the Bible's book of Genesis.
Then along the side of a steep drop overlooking Lower Barpham, a big farm, perhaps, with Sussex flint walls and red brick, converted barn and stables in the lee of the hill.
Through extensive woods, from Michelgrove Park to Angmering Park.
Last week sun, today low cloud. Last week the promise of bluebell carpets, today bluebell carpets.

I love knowing places intimately, seeing where I have been before on other walks, admiring afresh familiar sights. The bible, in Genesis, starts with Adam who worked the soil and God who took walks with Adam. Maybe that's where it all starts.

Legitimate Hate?

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Sat, 06 Apr 2013 15:21:00 +0000

This week, the week after Easter 2013, we Brits learn that the Greater Manchester police will now log as hate crimes attacks against Goths - not the ancient tribe that caused problems for the Roman Empire, but usually intelligent and creative people who like to dress in black, with long sweeping coats as seen in my town.
Is it a hate crime in the world of English-language usage to want the elimination of nouns turned into verbs with no spelling or audible alteration?
A lever, I taught in Physics lessons decades ago, allows a mechanical advantage to be used when applying a force to one end of an inflexible rod which lies over a fulcrum that is nearer the other end of the rod than where you apply your force. Think about it...

Now, one can lever something, so the noun doubles as a verb. That leads to another noun - leverage - which is what is gained by using a lever.
In the world of finance, leverage has become a verb. One can leverage a situation to get a bigger advantage by leveraging whatever financiers leverage.
I hate that verb.
It is clumsy, totally non-euphonious and spreading like ivy over a beautiful tree trunk.
Today I came across a couple of articles in the New York Times, whose web site I visit occasionally. Two article discuss the verbing of nouns and the nouning of verbs.
If you have a shred of sympathy for my particular hatred, Henry Hitchings' articles are "a good read." A prejudice shared is a prejudice enjoyed.

New Year's Day

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Tue, 01 Jan 2013 21:12:00 +0000

Most of UK has been rained on so much so long that the ground is waterlogged. Forgetting this, wife and I decided to take on a 6.5 mile walk from the village of Steyning, West Sussex, to enjoy a bright, dry day with a light wind. Being hardy folk, we took sandwiches for lunch, part one taken on the bank of the River Adur that meets the English Channel at Shoreham by Sea.

Part two was in a field under an incredibly blue sky with only the bare boundary trees indicating it was mid-winter. In this little nook, sheltered from the wind, it felt really warm.

It was a surprise to see so much of the river plain flooded. This sign post pointed us away from the river bank, while on the other bank two women walked their dog. Beyond that, acres of fields under water.

Is there anything quite so lovely as a tree? Even this one in the middle of cultivated field, young growth sprouting light green, is beautiful with nary a leaf to see.

And the 6.5 miles mentioned on the locally-produced guide turned out to be 7.8 miles.

Boxing Day / St Stephen's Day

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Tue, 01 Jan 2013 20:47:00 +0000

Winter, wet, cold, dark - at least it was on Boxing Day - 26 December 2012 if you don't use British day names - though not so cold. After a fabulously relaxing Christmas Day with Alun and Carol in Newcastle Upon Tyne, we went for an afternoon walk along the Northumbrian coast, driving north to Craster first.

View Larger Map

The sky was heavy, with a band of light showing through over the North Sea, which was so calm the pattern of dark and light was reflected on the water.

The shoreline at full tide comprises large rocks and boulders. Instead of the usual breaking of waves on sand or shingle, the water ebbed and flowed through these rocks making a low groaning sound.

The pathway became pretty muddy and wife and I had not brought walking boots, so our town shoes soon collected mud enough to start a farm with.

You can see how much like a farming couple we looked at this stage. Also, in the background the outline of Dunstanburgh Castle, brilliantly located to keep out whomever was the problem in those days. Seaward are high cliffs, landward steep slopes to make access a challenge for attachers.

Amazing that an iPhone can take pictures like this.

Edinburgh

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Tue, 10 Jul 2012 20:16:00 +0000

Marian and I just made a trip north to celebrate my oldest son's ordination as priest in the Church of England and my 70th birthday. They happened in reverse order, but for various reasons we were able to celebrate both on 1st July in Newcastle Upon Tyne, a city with fine restaurants, hotels and one of the biggest music stores I have seen for a long time. It sells instruments of many kinds, sheet music and recorded music, too.
After our family time, our youngest son and his family had holidayed in Scotland the week before, Marian and I took the train to Edinburgh for a short break, a gift from my sons. Last December we celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary and with so many zeroes around this break was their kind gift.
As Welsh people, we know about rain; we now know that Edinburgh does rain pretty well, too. Not since being in a tropical downpour have I got so wet so quickly when walking the last 400 yards to our B&B.
The morning we left, there had been more rain, leaving the small car park behind the B&B mostly submerged and the bowling green over the wall unplayable.

Morning Dew

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Mon, 25 Jun 2012 09:02:00 +0000

6.45 AM, Hillbarn Golf Course, West Sussex: The morning is bright, the sun having risen over the hill beyond. I stop near a green on this lovely course, sparkling under a heavy dew.
On the green are the footmarks of a couple of players, onto and off the green. One set approaches the hole, to remove the flag probably. Then two other sets lead to the start of two delicate curves, each ending at the hole. Successful putts for the two players in their early morning game, at least on this hole.
The dew will be gone now, three hours later, under the warm sun. The imprint of those minutes might remain in the players' memory, but like much of our lives it's temporary and ephemeral.
What does really count, or last? And in whose memory?

Brecon

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Thu, 21 Jun 2012 18:59:00 +0000

Since Easter, more or less, it has rained most of the time apart from two weeks in May. To our surprise Marian and I had chosen those weeks for our annual pilgrimage/holiday near Brecon. The evening we arrived the gentlest rain kissed us welcome and our last day was pretty wet. Between the sun shone fit to bust.

Within the national park lie both the Black Mountain (to the west) and the Black Mountains (to the east.) Looking at the ordnance survey map I saw what might be a gentle walk to a lake, Llyn Y Fan Fach. It was an easy trek up a track built by the local water company to the lake, which is a natural one but which has been formalised into a dam. The dam wall was a good place to snooze after lunch.

Then Marian and I walked up the slope to which my feet are pointing to gaze down the steep cliffs scoured out by an ice-age glacier to the lake below.

The view was glorious, sweeping over the far Usk valley and the Usk reservoir, where we'd brewed some tea while watching a couple of local men reel in rainbow trout, perhaps bedazzled by the sunshine, more than I could count.

To the east lay Pen Y Fan, the highest peak in South Wales and our goal for another day.

Another Warm Stream

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Sat, 18 Feb 2012 21:41:00 +0000

As the early morning coach drove north up the A23 from Brighton snow lay over the South Downs. Even Worthing had been dusted the night before. My destination, Vancouver, lies on the Northern Pacific, south of the Gulf of Alaska, sounded pretty cold in February.
My host told me of the stream of warm ocean water from Hawaii (the Pineapple Stream?) that keeps this part of western Canada's coast pretty free of winter snow. It was a surprise to find Vancouver warmer than Worthing despite the best efforts of Britain's Gulf Stream.
Another surprise was a display of totem poles in Stanley Park and to learn that these artefacts were used to record real or mythical events, they were not used for worship by the tribes who carved them.
Vancouver's house prices are sky high, one reason being the easy investment in property by newly-rich Chinese people, whose steady influence already has led to airport and other signage appearing in a couple of Chinese languages.

Short and Good

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 12:17:00 +0000

This morning's walk of less than two miles from home to the OC UK office was wonderful. Despite the temperature being close to freezing point the sun shone full strength, the birds were busy and singing. Much was right with the world.

New Toys

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 21:08:00 +0000

A former colleague used to say, "Make it fun to get it done." The obverse is when a necessary task becomes fun. So it was when the website of OC International-UK needed a bit of fast forwarding to replace out of date information and a good, but dated, appearance.
Since the 1960s encounters with computers gave me a lot of fun during the hard work and this was just the same.
GIMP is open-source software for graphics; a new style OC logo was made with it.
TextWrangler is a great, free text editor for changing HTML code, even working to files on a remote HTML and FTP sites.
Tracking down some truly free clipart took a while and recasting some of the text proved a minor part of the job.
Then along came Microsoft Internet Explorer. The original site used cascading style sheets, one file for IE, another for the rest of the world. In my learn-as-you-go style this became apparent only when finally loading up Windows XP and IE on my Mac.
Now, the site seems to work for Safari, IE, Opera, Chrome and Omniweb. Great fun - until the next review or a total replacement on something else.

Time Travel

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 20:45:00 +0000

At work I used to read an Australian magazine, Kategoria, and was disappointed when it ceased being published. It was a thoughtful, thought provoking set of articles about contemporary life and the Christian faith.

One particular issue focussed on The Family, causing me sufficient disquiet that I worked to get the Feba world talking about family issues, promoting a biblical view within the disparate cultures across that world.

It had some success, with - as usual - many ideas that flew like lead balloons.

Great joy today when I found out that all 31 editions of Kategoria are available on the web site of The Gospel Coalition as PDF files to download. And that means less space on my hard drive, but more on the shelf in my overcrowded study.
Nice to see you again!

Surprise in Horsham

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 17:54:00 +0000

Yesterday, 30 December 2011, Marian and I drove to Horsham in Surrey, just 20 miles to the north of our home. Our purpose was to buy a small colander in the excellent cooking supplies store there. We failed in that, but that's OK, it was interesting to see current trends in middle-class culinary practice as dining habits change: more implements for Japanese food; collapsible colanders for a bijou kitchen; expensive French casseroles for single meals.
We needed gluten-free food for lunch, so bypassed the Italian eating places and found (again) a cheery, cramped cafe run by local Christian churches. It has a bookstore, too. While we ate - an excellent vegetable soup for her and a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich for me - we spotted from the window a little cul-de-sac called Causeway. Along both sides of the street and some beautiful buildings of varying ages, one of which was home to the author, Hammond Innes, in the early 1920s. See my tumblr.com blog for some pictures.

Time Travel

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 21:38:00 +0000

Intrigued by the intractable tensions in the Middle East, I determined to read Jerusalem - The Biography by Simon Sebag Montefiore. This evening I finished it.
It's a big book, spanning the city's history from the time of King David (circa 1000 BC) to this decade. Apart from my constantly getting lost with the names, family relationships and various empires, what hit me hardest was the constant slaughter of people through most of the generations covered by the book.
That took my mind to the Old Testament:
Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: “May those who love you be secure. May there be peace within your walls and security within your citadels.” Psalm 122:6-7, written by King David.
How many generations of Jews have prayed that prayer, or Christians eyeing prophetic writings about the nation and that city? Did they pray in vain?

Just a few days before Christmas, when Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus, it may be well to join that ancient prayer and trust that one day the Prince of Peace will reign supreme and Jerusalem know prolonged peace.

Identity Confused

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 16:09:00 +0000

On November 6th our first grandchild was born in Cambridge. My wife is now Gran and I am Grandad. In my far off childhood my mother's mother was Gran and my father's father was Grandad. So these new titles are fine.
My Grandad was a quiet and authoritative figure to me. He used to sit in the kitchen saying very little. He had a full head of hair and a white moustache, which I think was tinged yellow from smoking. The sad fact is I never felt close to him or that he was much interested in me.
Perhaps it's the way families work, but my mother's parents seemed to be more loving. My Grampie was a shorter, smiling man who had words to build up. I hope my granddaughter remembers me as the smiling, talking one -- not that her other grandfather is anything like my own was.
The journey from the South Coast to Cambridge will become more familiar in coming years. It's mainly motorway: A27, A23/M23, M25, M11 with the glorious Dartford Tunnel going north under the Thames and the high-flying bridge coming south.
Sending a message to my wife and sons opens up the identity question. Should I be Tony, Dad or Grandad? I enjoy all three, so had better get used to the multiple identity.

Close to home

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 11:31:00 +0000

Sometimes the nicest things happen close to home, not on long journeys.

At 7.00 AM today, this was the view from an upper window in our house.

Itaipu Dam

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 22:02:00 +0000

In the 1970s Brazil and Paraguay set up a new entity to build a huge dam, then run the hydroelectricity plant it holds. The partnership is celebrated in the name - Itaipu Binacional, seen here in the first vehicle park visitors go to on their tour.

The most spectacular part is the overflow, which opens up when the huge artificial lake is too high. Giant doors that weigh as much as a jumbo jet are opened to let the water run down an enormous concrete channel into the river below.

The whitish pipes to the right are 10 metre diameter channels for the water to drop 100 metres to huge turbines beneath the level of the river. Paraguay gets 90% of its electricity from this generator, Brazil 30%.

There are three sections to the dam:
1. An earth and rock piece, seen here from inside the coach as we drove down from the top of this section to river level below.
2. The concrete working section with the huge tubes, turbines, switching matrixes and high voltage feeder cables to nearby pylons.
3. The overflow section, also concrete, which deals with any over-high level in the dam.
I found it pretty amazing, in the ambition of its first conception, to the construction and now the invaluable contribution to green energy for the region.

Foz Means Mouth

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 21:39:00 +0000

My last post was from Iguassu in Brazil, with the spelling varying from time to time even within the town itself. Since the settlement developed around the Iguassu Falls, it's tempting to think that Foz is Portuguese for Falls, but no it means Mouth. A tour guide put things right by explaining that Falls are the cataratas in Portuguese.

Whatever they are called and spelled, the falls are truly awe inspiring. Just prove I was there... I am the one in the red, wet T-shirt. The bridge is built out over the first level to which the mighty river descends. Below it is another drop to the new, lowest level of the river. More pictures when I can get them processed.

There's an awful lot of coffee in Brazil

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 22:38:00 +0000

This afternoon I was thinking how many times I have attended meetings and conferences inside big rooms in a hotel or conference centre, most of which look and sound the same. Since arriving here two days ago I had not set foot outside the nice hotel where our group is staying. So, today I took a walk around a big block around 5.15 PM. It was still hot, probably in the upper 70s Fahrenheit, and humid. This town, Iguazu, is quite hilly in this quarter which is filled with various car shops--dealers, menders, washers, alarm-fitters. A friend who lived here for 17 years told me that the roads are such that shock absorbers, springs and electrics are all shaken to failure, so that's why the repair shops are here.

Just outside our meeting room is excellent coffee several times per day, each supply desperately needed for weary travellers trying to make sense of multi-cultural conversations as we probe the future for this mission. What I find really odd, having travelled through multiple time zones many times, is that the 11-hour flight from London to Sao Paulo required only a three hour adjustment to the wrist watch. Usually that length flight needs a draining 8 hours. And the coffee is not so good, either.

Little trips

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Wed, 07 Sep 2011 21:07:00 +0000

Since Lisbon, our journeys have been in the U.K. - the longest to Newcastle Upon Tyne, where our oldest son was ordained into the Church of England. It's a region unfamiliar to me and proved to be as beautiful and interesting as any other. Then Cambridge where our youngest son has moved for his work. Buying a house these days is a major challenge for first-time buyers, but he and his wife have managed it. The only other journeys have been up and down a ladder as I painted the eaves of our home. In October comes a major trip to Brazil for the mission for whom I volunteer. Excellent!

A Sabbath Day's Journeys

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Sun, 01 May 2011 19:51:00 +0000

Today's Sunday, so not the Sabbath. We live in the age of grace not law, so the old restrictions on journeys on Saturday don't apply - unfortunately. The weather here has been so summery through most of April and today, 1st May, that it's great to be outdoors. Today, I started with a semi-jog around the local golf course (3 miles), walked to and back from a local church (1.5 miles), then walked from Truleigh Hill to Devil's Dyke along the South Downs Way - and back - 6 miles. It's no wonder I feel just a tad jaded this evening.
Yet, it's time to rejoice again. Two years ago my darling wife was so ill we wondered if we'd ever even picnic on the South Downs, let alone walk so far. Today, she did it. And that's not the first time either. What a lady!

Ystad

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Wed, 13 Apr 2011 19:27:00 +0000

It's confession time: I am a fan of Wallander - Inspector Kurt Wallander of the Ystad police in Sweden. BBC3 or BBC4 carried Swedish TV adaptations of Henning Mankell's detective novels, then English versions of other stories emerged starring Kenneth Branagh. The Swedish actor, Krister Henriksson, was the first Marian and I saw in the role, so he's the benchmark. We think the others don't make it. But, then, isn't that often true of the first recording one hears of a piece of music?
One reason I like Wallander is that he is getting older, touching 60 in later stories, his life has been unpredictable and disappointing in some areas, in his failed marriage, for example. Yet he's passionate in his pursuit of criminals and a just response to their deeds.
Since last Autumn I have read the first six novels - in English translation, as my Swedish is as accomplished as my "insert language name of your choice here." What a little islander these British Isles have brought forth.
Dark deeds, Swedish land- and seascapes, in light airy Summer or freezing wind-swept Winter, and a frail, flawed detective who always resolves the mystery. Excellent!

Counting some blessings

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Sun, 20 Mar 2011 22:29:00 +0000

Going home - but where is home? It used to be where my guitar was, then became where my wife and family are. Now the boys have left home, so it's where my wife is. But both of us long to go back "home" from time to time. Back to where our earliest memories lie, back to Wales.
I was born in Cardiff and left there only to go deeper into Wales to university in Swansea. After that I have never lived in Wales, only in England, with a few happy years in Seychelles.
What does "home" mean? Wales is where our parents came from; 75% of them, anyway. Where our grandparents came from; 66% this time. For some reason we choose Wales as home because our own early days were spent there. The accents are familiar. We can pronounce most of the place names. Wales is where we feel refreshed, re-rooted in our lives, strengthened in the faith we were taught there.
They used to say that teachers and water were Wales' biggest exports. The three days we just spent in mid-Wales were rain free, unusually. Although trees were still winter bare, sheep were lambing, gorse bushes thrust out new yellow blossoms, daffodils celebrated spring and the sunshine was delicious.

Bookish Journeys

noreply@blogger.com (Tony Ford) — Wed, 09 Mar 2011 17:05:00 +0000

On my trip to Portugal I read Never Let Me Go, a novel by Japanese-born British author Kazuo Ishiguro. It was shortlisted for the 2005 Booker Prize and has been made into a film released here recently. From the very beginning Ishiguro uses simple language employed by the narrator to unfold a dark and depressing view of what might happen if science, medical technology and our endless pursuit of enduring physical life leave far behind questions of morality, or - even more seriously - what it means to be human.
The link above will take you to a Wikipedia article, if you want an overview of the book and don't intend to read it for yourself.
Maybe it's my age, but the news so often has real stories of how people are appallingly treated by others: think of the continuing drug-gang killings in Mexico or the slaying of Pakistani politicians daring to speak out for the rights of those affected by that nation's blasphemy law.
Whenever a nation, gang, religion or individual denies dignity and respect to other human beings, they are not far from the novel - meaning the book and the news.