All posts by Abi

Sonnets

Gently with the newbies

Don’t call this fledgling to a strict account.
He has not glided in the wider world,
Nor even left his nest, and no amount
Of flapping of his wings, so new-unfurled,
Can really substitute for honest flight.
He doesn’t understand the atmosphere,
The updrafts and the currents, but he might
Become a thinker and a writer here.
He has a lot to learn of content, yes,
But also that opponents may respect
Each other, disagreeing none the less,
(A thought on which some others could reflect.)
Let’s tolerate his rudeness for the nonce:
Remember that we all were callow once.

Originally posted on Making Light, in reaction to an incipient dogpile.

Sonnets

Evolution for Theists

This world of wonders seems so very odd
And populated by things odder still,
That it feels easier to cling to God
As watchmaker as well as source of will.
Nor was creation made to calm your fears:
The heavens tell his glory with a light
Far older than the bare six thousand years
That Ussher counts. Yet still they shine as bright.
The fossils set in stone don’t teach of Eve,
But He created them. They are his work.
In what, precisely, do you then believe?
That He has lied to us? I think you shirk.
God gave (evolved) you brains to cross this rift:
You, wasting them, repudiate His gift.

Originally posted on Making Light, apropos of the “Darwin Fish”

Family, Flirting with London

Alex: an adventure

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Alex has been petitioning me to go visit London and see the London Eye ever since I sent him a postcard of it while on a course. We finally agreed that we would go in October, when he was settled into school.

So on October 6 – 8, we did. I picked him up from school on a Friday afternoon and took him home for lunch and a change of clothes. Then we took a taxi to the airport and flew down (British Midland to Heathrow). We took the Heathrow Express into Paddington, then the Tube to Victoria, where we stayed at the Comfort Inn.

Best moment of the journey down, for me: we bought some crisps and some apples in Heathrow, because we were going to be a long time getting our dinners. I was going to be flexible about food on the journey, figuring that any blood sugar was better than none, and offered to open the crisps for him. I got a five-star telling off, because apples are “real food” and crisps are not, and you do not eat junk food until you’ve eaten your real food. He harped on it throughout the trip.

Best moment of the journey down, for Alex: after school, taxis, planes, trains, tubes, and shops, walking hand in hand through the darkness at Victoria, the baggage trailing behind me, he was still cheerful and stable. I said, “You are such a good travelling companion. It’s a real pleasure to be with you right now.” It seemed to strike him deeply that I should feel that way.

We got up the next morning and took a photo of ourselves in the mirror. Here we are, getting ready for adventures:

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(He’s being a squirrel in the second of these shots.)

We set out for the Eye before 9, on foot to burn off some of the excess energy. There was some running on the deserted pavements, the odd shot with Big Ben, all that sort of thing.

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We got to the Eye before it opened, and queued for tickets in the sharp breeze. By 10:00, we were on board. Alex is a little nervous of heights these days, and nearly funked out a couple of times, but when he got on board, he wasn’t as scared. It reminded him of a space ship.

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Although he would only go to the window when I asked him to for photos, he enjoyed the ride.

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By the time we were at the top, he was pretty much reconciled to the trip.

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He still did his fair share of scowling.

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Still, he was glad to get down.

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Then we had ice cream (his idea, not mine) and watched the people who paint themselves metallic colours and pretend to be statues. I bought us onto an open-top bus tour for a bit of a rest, and we rode around London for a while, playing with the headphones and the pre-recorded narratives. We got off near Regent Street, with the intention of going to Hamley’s. A bit of lunch restored our energy, and off we went. I let Alex take the lead through the shop. This meant that we saw a lot of Lego.

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He wanted to buy himself a toy, and quickly settled on a dragon in its own egg. Then he wanted to make sure we got one for Fiona, at which time I silently decided that we weren’t going to use his pocket money for any of these purchases. (Generosity is rewarded.) We found a cuddly puppy for her, then walked up a staircase themed after the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Alex enjoyed sitting in High King Peter’s throne at the end.

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After watching some older kids play with Scalextric, we added a green light sabre to our stash and left. By then, Alex was beat. We went back to the hotel and found a documentary on people who base jump with peregrine falcons (I am not making this up). He watched that, surrounded by his toys, then came out for dinner. We went home and crashed.

We woke the next morning in a silly mood (Well, one of us did, but he was silly enough for two.)

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We packed up the room, checked out, and headed for Hyde Park to play about before our flight home. The park was crowded with runners in some sort of footrace, but we soon found an activity more suited to us: a tree that reminded Alex of Yoda’s house on Dagobah. So we did a little Star Wars playing.

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Then we headed for the Tube, dodging through the endless stream of runners. We stopped at Paddington for lunch, took the Express back to Heathrow, and flew home at last.

It was an inexpressibly wonderful weekend, with an inexpressibly wonderful boy.

(There’s a Flickr photoset with more pictures as well.)

Family

Spot the parent

So a new child seat law comes into effect in a month’s time. It tightens up the existing rules for children in cars, and means that some kids who were formerly riding without seats will need booster cushions.

The Beeb has a FAQ on the whole issue, including a few questions they’ve asked of the Road Safety Minister, Stephen Ladyman. My absolute favourite exchange is here:

What if a child refuses to use a child seat or cushion?

Mr Ladyman recognises that in some cases “there will be hell to pay”. He suggests parents blame him.

Betcha he has kids.

Family

Alex starts school: actual information here!

5 Comments

I can’t believe Martin hijacked the entire story about Alex with a rant!

Other information that the less clothing-obsessed readership might be interested in:

Alex was very nervous before school started. I could barely persuade him to eat his breakfast, and he was anxious and big-eyed on the drive to school itself. We dropped Fiona off at nursery on the way, then drove to Gilmerton Primary (it’s all within a few minutes’ walk, but we were running late).

The families gathered in front of the two classrooms, with all the nervous little children in their uniforms. There was some confusion, because they’d renamed the classes from Primary 1a (taught by Miss Bain) and 1b (taught by Miss Stewart) to 1b and 1s respectively. This meant that we were queuing at the 1b door, confused to see the wrong teacher’s name, until Martin went to investigate. Then we went to the correct place, waving at Alex’ former nursery-mate Keir as we swapped (his parents were also reversed).

Alex was welcomed into the room by one of the classroom assistants (two women, older than Miss Stewart, very friendly). We hung up his coat and stashed his backpack while he got busy threading beads. Then Miss Stewart shooed us all out of the room, because it was time to start. All of the children waved, and none of them wept.

It was a short day – only an hour and a half. We got home pretty much to turn around and go back out to get him. He came out with a picture of the sun, coloured yellow, and a big smile on his face.

“How was it?” we asked.

“It was good. I thought it was going to be hard, but it was really easy.”

All the factors were in place for him to love school. Miss Stewart is lovely, the classroom assistants are friendly, he’s mature enough to be confident in the situation, he was tired of nursery and ready for a change, and actually, he’s quite bright. He’s still enjoying it hugely, a week and a half in.

But back to the day itself. We came home, Alex changed clothes, and we all had lunch. Alex and I went to the movies (we saw Cars) while Martin went back to work. He and I then bought a belt for his school uniorm, to reduce the degree of shirt-untucking to a believable level. By the time we were on the way home, Alex was tired and thoughtful.

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It was a good day.

Edinburgh, a love letter, Photography

Recent Photos

In case you’re wondering, dear reader, Edinburgh continues to be lovely. It isn’t always sunny, or warm, but it is still magical to me.

Leaves, a pattern shot
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Taken 10 July 2006

Tree bark in the botanics
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Taken 18 July 2006

Rose in Gorgie Farm
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Taken 14 August 2006

Monocot lying in the arms of a dicot
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Taken 22 August 2006

Scarlet poppies, glowing in the rain
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Taken 23 August 2006

Poppy seed head. (This photo has been cropped)
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Taken 23 August 2006

Thistle buds, insanely purple. (This photo has been cropped)
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Taken 23 August 2006

These photos, like all of mine these days, are hosted on Flickr, and can be viewed in different sizes by clicking on them.

Personal, Testing

Result!

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A couple of months ago, I took a somewhat less than fun exam on software testing.

So last week I got the results.

84%. A pass, with distinction.

So, dear people, what do you think my reaction was?

A. Yay! I passed!
B. Meh. It’s just an exam.
C. Where did I lose 16 whole marks?
D. All of the above, in turn.

Answers on a postcard, please.

Personal

Questions that Answer Themselves

Darn it, what am I going to do about this huge three-cornered tear in my purple linen trousers?

(I didn’t photograph the original tear, because I didn’t have the heart.) I didn’t want to patch them, and I didn’t want to make a new pair. So I learned to darn.

Darning is using spare threads from a scrap of the same fabric to recreate missing cloth. So first you work a bunch of threads in one way, then reweave the cloth by going the other way. It’s time-consuming, detailed work – I would have been faster making a whole new pair of trousers (not as smug, though!)

From the front, with one “leg” of the tear done and the other half done
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taken 16 August 2006

From the back, same point in time.
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taken 16 August 2006

In theory, a darn should be invisible. In practice, this darn suffers from the amount of thread added to the texture of the cloth in the area outlining the tear. I don’t know what to do about it. Note that I melted some Wondaweb onto the loose threads at the back because I was afraid of it ravelling. It hasn’t changed the texture more than the basic darn itself did.

Front of finished darn.
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taken 19 August 2006

Back of finished darn.
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taken 19 August 2006