Trivia

First, Nancy Pelosi might be a good thing, but she is 80 and it is perhaps time that she stood down from first line diplomacy, particularly in a tricky area. One fight at a time.

Second, it would be better for the Conservative party (but worse for the Labour party) if Sunak were to concede to the truss at this point, thus avoiding a unseemly campaign, discreditable to all concerned, not to say the country at large. But will he? Would the truss do a deal to put him back in some big job?

Third, this year's triffids, last noticed at reference 1, expired while we were on holiday. They couldn't take the combination of heat and drought on offer. Overall rating: germination good, subsequent growth poor.

Fourth, there was a particularly egregious display of bad - not to say dangerous - behaviour by a cyclist in Epsom town centre this morning. All done up with helmet and Lycra, almost certainly a young or youngish man, sailing through at what seemed like about 30mph without any regard for the traffic lights at all. One startled elderly couple in the process of crossing at one of them.

Fifth, the hole noticed at reference 2 was filled yesterday morning, rather than Tuesday morning coming. We learn from neighbours that there has been a bit of watery activity in the area over the past few days, so perhaps we were lucky, getting onto the list just before it went into action.

Sixth and last, a fine display of gnomery on the Chessington Road, between the Ruxley Lane turning and Ewell West. Clearly a place to visit when we have suitable visitors.

PS 1: it seems that that valence of egregious was good rather than bad as little as 300 years ago. From the Latin for standing out from the flock - which is literally neutral. The standing out could be for a good quality or a bad quality, a good reason or a bad reason - or even something which was neither good nor bad. An accident. From where I had associated, wrongly, to the behaviour of the earth's magnetic field.

PS 2: the next day. More carelessness. I had read the dragon sign as 'nest' rather than 'fury' and only noticed my error this morning. Alternatively, another puzzle for my personal analyst to sort out for me: why this particular substitution?

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/06/week-five-plus.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/07/service.html.

Group search keys: tff, dragon, dragons, nest, fury.

Out of the first wood

The coronavirus team at the FT have not yet been stood down, but we do look to be out of the woods, at least as far as deaths involving or attributable to the plague are concerned. At least for the time being. Maybe now is the time to start building back, putting the health service in better shape for what might be coming next. While the truss, no doubt, is keener on cuts to service to match her promised cuts to tax. Never mind the plague to come, the punters - that is to say the voters - must have more refrigerators and more ice cream now.

Down to around 1,250 deaths a day, with over half of those looking to be in Europe or the US. Reflecting, I suppose, our business (in the sense of being busy) and our incessant mixing, rather than our population, which, looking at the graphic above, looks to be less than a quarter of the world total.

A graphic which comes from reference 2, said to be unavailable in this country. But reference 3 though gets me to the Chicago Tribune OK. For a provincial newspaper, it looks pretty good, if well festooned with advertisements once you start clicking on things.

Rather more girlie pictures than you get in the FT, but in among the slender girls you had the rather overweight boys above. The bar at the bottom is something to do with the cycling of the four (?) pictures in the slot concerned.

As far as I have got in reference 4, the order might ape the vocabulary of our freemasons, but is more of a trade union or staff association. Very into the welfare of its members and their families.

'The Grand Lodge of the Fraternal Order of Police is a non-profit organization that was formed under the laws of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania on November 17, 1915. On January 7, 1963, the Grand Lodge granted a charter to Fraternal Order of Police, Chicago Lodge No. 7, establishing Lodge No. 7 as a subordinate lodge with full power under its jurisdiction for the City of Chicago. The organization was known as The United Chicago Police Association, Lodge No. 7 of the Fraternal Order of Police, governed by President Joseph J. LeFevour and Recording Secretary Richard Lis...'.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/03/out-of-woods.html.

Reference 2: https://www.tribpub.com/gdpr/chicagonow.com/. 'Unfortunately, our website is currently unavailable in your country. We are engaged on the issue and committed to looking at options that support our full range of digital offerings to your market. We continue to identify technical compliance solutions that will provide all readers with our award-winning journalism'.

Reference 3: https://www.tribpub.com/#.

Reference 4: https://www.chicagofop.org/.

Group search key: FT, graphic.

A scramble

What was intended to be an early evening stroll around Brading, if having been a very hot day, but which turned, at one point at least, into a bit of a scramble. Not the sort of thing I am used to these days.

The intention had been to take a look in the recreation ground behind what used to be the doctor's surgery, which in the past had been conveniently happy to do an interim warfarin test for me - most recently three years ago, as noticed at reference 1. I think I would have to go to Sandown now, or perhaps into Ryde.

The small trees at the back of the ground, intended to attract red squirrels had got a lot bigger. And I was able to find three pyramid orchids - far fewer than on the last occasion. Perhaps the current grass mowing protocol and the current lack of rain were not helping.

Out the back to face what looked like a rather forbidding climb up to the path through the woods, bottom left in the map snap above. Reduced to all fours and using various roots as handholds - but I did get myself up. Would not have cared to try had the ground been at all wet.

Through the woods and then dropped down into the field of oats, previously mentioned. The field where there is something wrong in the top corner as the crop never seems to take there properly. I remember a chap who used to have the field telling us it was ever thus. And shade from the trees did not seem to be sufficient reason.

Quite hazy in the distance, but in the middle distance Brading church showing through loud and clear, with its unusual but rather handsome spire. There had been a sprinkle of rain earlier in the afternoon, which had cooled things down a bit and probably accounted for the strong smell of oats. I also put up a buzzard from one of the neighbouring trees.

While over at Brading, beyond the church, a flock of crows was circling about one of its favoured trees. Probably the same sort of thing as noticed on a larger scale, from rather closer quarters back in 2014, at reference 2. As it turned out, BH had probably been watching the same crows from a different angle, from an upstairs window in our cottage.

Off to the newly reopened Bugle for dinner (bugle as in cow rather than Salvation Army). Salad and garlic bread for her, pie and chips for me. Mayo and gravy on the side. We remembered to ask on this occasion! All very satisfactory.

As was the wine, from Les Ambassadeurs. They could do Bells, they could do tea, but not Earl Grey. And we failed to qualify for the 10% discount offered to locals. Left with the copy of Oliver Twist, already noticed at reference 3.

More crows on the way home, perhaps a different tribe. And a buzzard like bird with pointed wings. A sparrow hawk?

PS: I failed to run the wine down to its manufacturer, but I can say that it is offered by the well known (and expensive) spa hotel chain run by Champneys at their Eastwell Manor outlet. See reference 4.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/07/provincial-warfarin.html.

Reference 2: http://psmv2.blogspot.com/2014/07/twit-log.html.

Reference 3: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/07/oliver-twist.html.

Reference 4: https://www.champneys.com/.

Not unlawful

I wake up this morning to an item from the Daily Telegraph, aka the Torygraph, about how Suella Braverman, the Attorney General, that is to say one of the guardians of our legal system, has told her in-house lawyers to stop telling her that stuff is illegal and to concentrate rather on whether she could get away with it. See reference 1 for more.

Which seems a bit rich, even from one of the fat leader’s disciples. However, it may be that the story has been sexed up a bit and what we really have is things which sit on the awkward margins of the law, things which seem reasonable and which one wants to do, but which need to be carefully and properly framed to be lawful. Perhaps in a context where talking about what the framers of the relevant legislation really intended does not help: one just has to go with what they actually wrote down.

Which prompts a different question. Why should a paper which, along with the Daily Mail, can be thought of as an organ of the Conservative Party, be stirring this particular pot, at this particular time? Is this what they call briefing against? Cooking up stories to discredit someone, for some reason or other? To make sure that Braverman gets passed over when Truss assumes the chair?

Too early in the morning to delve further.

References

Reference 1: Suella Braverman bans lawyers from telling ministers their policies are unlawful – Gurpreet Narwan, Charles Hymas, Daily Telegraph – 2022. 29th July.

Reference 2: https://www.suellabraverman.co.uk/.

Reference 3: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suella_Braverman.

Critical national infrastructure

Not impressed to read this afternoon at reference 1 that we cannot build any new houses in West London for ten years or more because the National Grid has run out of puff in that part of the country. Is it a wheeze to increase shareholder value by getting the government to hand over a good fat dollop of money?

In the meantime, readers will be glad to learn that the company concerned, websited at reference 2, 'is working to biologically capture carbon is by preserving and rehabilitating an ancient peat bog located close to one of our substations in South Wales. The 15-hectare bog stores the equivalent of 32,000 tonnes of carbon dioxide, which is equal to the average annual emissions of 22,000 petrol cars. Restoring it has also provided conditions for rare butterflies and vegetation to flourish'. Snapped above.

But perhaps not impressed that our pompously titled Centre for the Protection of National Infrastructure, to be found at reference 3, doesn't worry itself about whether there is enough of it. That's somebody else's job.

PS: maybe the Truss will toss our fat leader a little something when she becomes leader by making him the Tsar of Electricity Transmission. Pensionable salary say of £500,000? Five hours a week?

References

Reference 1: West London faces new homes ban as electricity grid hits capacity: Greater London Authority warns developers that upgrade might take more than a decade - George Hammond, Stephen Morris, Financial Times - 2022.

Reference 2: https://www.nationalgrid.com/.

Reference 3: https://www.cpni.gov.uk/.

Reference 4: https://www.cpni.gov.uk/critical-national-infrastructure-0.

Service

I did have a moan about my bill from the water board at reference 1 and I might have had a moan about the leak reporting facility on their website, which I found difficult to use - although, to be fair, it was complicated by the need to thin down multiple reports of the same problem.

However, there is no need to moan about the substantive service as, having reported a minor leak in the vicinity of the water meter in the pavement on Wednesday, they turned up to replace it at around 09:00 this morning.

Over the years they have had various goes at our connection to the mains and I remember talk on one occasion of one utility damaging another where they crossed over. Talk being followed up by injection of some sort of high pressure yellow goo into one of them, yellow goo which proceeded to come up through the pavement, presumably having failed to find any other way out.

Can't now find any notice of this goo, only turning up reference 2, where there is at least a tell tale damp patch. The same sort of thing which got me baling out the tube at the bottom of which sits the water meter on Wednesday. The propeller in the metre was turning slowly, despite all our taps being off, and the tube was full up again about half an hour later. The wreckage of the old tube and old meter can be seen bottom right in the snap above, this side of the new black tube. We were told that it is waterproof and will not fill with water when it rains, unlike the old one.

We were also that told the pavement will be put back together again on Tuesday. Presumably giving time for any further problem to show itself.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/07/minor-moans.html.

Reference 2: http://psmv2.blogspot.com/2015/12/suspicions.html.

Reference 3: https://www.thameswater.co.uk/. The water company.

Nunwell clockwise

The Nunwell clockwise might be characterised as a circumnavigation of the Wellingtonia first noticed at reference 1, the tree being in view from various points of this walk. The approximate position of the tree being marked with a blue spot and that of our cottage with an orange spot on the snap above.

So up the lane then turn right to go up the edge of a ripening field of oats. Up to the edge of Nunwell Down where we turn right again, to head approximately ENE through the woods, woods which include a fine line of trees, some of them planted as far back as the 17th century. As far as I can make out now, the one above appears to be an unusually tall horse chestnut.

And this one a tall beech.

Turn right to go around the coach house, now detached from the big house, as explained at reference 2 and head for Nunwell Farm, taking in one the giant echiums escaped from the Botanic Gardens at Ventnor, noticed in these pages from time to time. According to reference 3, probably Echium pininana.

One of the old park trees. Quite a lot of which were used to build the battleships for the Napoleonic wars.

A close-up of the same or a similar tree. Presumably cut about in youth, so accounting for the shape in old age.

The last leg of the footpath got rather lost in the grass and finally came to an end at a gap in a hedge - through which there was another field of oats with no path to be seen at all. Going along the edge didn't seem to be an option either, so we headed for the road through some rather long grass. Collecting the odd bite on the way.

Somewhere along the way, tweeting a swallow and getting a closer than usual sight of a buzzard (or something of that sort). Plus a hedgerow version of the oleaster I felled back in May, noticed at reference 4.

All of which was followed by the first of two visits to the best dressed crab shack on a pontoon in Bembridge Harbour, the shack to be found at reference 5. The blue shack in the snap above. I snoozed on the far end of the pontoon for the hour or so we had to wait for a table to be free. While BH watched the comings and goings of the harbour master, who appeared to double as the ferryman.

Our crab salads were very good, even if the small baguettes which came with them had only recently emerged from a freezer. Wine satisfactory too, with Chablis beings something I usually steer clear of in restaurants, on the grounds that while Chablis can be very good, the sort of Chablis that I can afford is restaurants is often not so good at all. I recognised the label, and on checking I find that we last had this wine in September last year, having bought it from the Morrisons behind Sandown. A bit more sniffy about it on that occasion. See reference 6.

The heritage fishing boat outside our window. Not yet found out where the number, K41, came from.

Ambience good, various chatterings with other senior parties. One of which had cycled across from the south of the island for their lunch and one of which knew Dawlish Warren very well.

PS 1: dreamed that night of picking my way through a very narrow, winding path through a field of near ripe wheat. No doubt a shrink could explain why the oats got transformed into wheat.

PS: later: reference 7 suggests Kirkwall (in the Orkneys) for K, which seems rather a long way away. But, maybe, if you want heritage, that is where you have to go.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/07/wellingtonia-83.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/07/wellingtonia-84.html.

Reference 3: https://www.botanic.co.uk/news/flower-of-power-echiums/.

Reference 4: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/05/oleaster-down.html.

Reference 5: https://thebestdressedcrabintown.co.uk/.

Reference 6: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2021/09/iberico.html.

Reference 7: http://jg.ten27.org/jg49.htm.

Inner Ryde

We made two forays into inner Ryde.

The first foray was to find a proper post box, which might be emptied before they got around to the post box in Brading. We thought that what passes for the Post Office in Ryde would do, mainly a McColl's convenience store.

Somewhere along the way we learned that priority postboxes were all about the plague, more particularly about getting completed test kits back to the testing laboratories. I wonder this morning about whether this service is being wound down. Will it just, more or less imperceptibly, wither on the vine or will there be something more positive?

Then a peek at the substantial church more or less at the top of Union Street, once dedicated to St. Thomas, now firmly shut - but I am sure that we once visited the inside of the place after it had become some kind of community-heritage space, complete with a scattering of interesting young people with fags and cans outside. But today I can find no notice of any such visit and the church seems to have been sold on for some kind of development, although given that they have already tried that, perhaps not along the lines of the Horton Chapel here at Epsom, to be found at reference 1 and noticed from time to time in these pages. Perhaps the people concerned should visit Norwich and see what they have done with some of the large number of surplus churches there. A city which was said to have had a church for every Sunday of the year and a public house for every day?

Maybe the lawn tennis club is in better shape, despite the state of this doorway, complete with fake lawn. Not enough gaps to be able to see whether there were any courts or what their surface was.

Then down the passage off St. Thomas Street to inspect the sea from the western side of the pier. Not clear if anyone much uses the passage, except perhaps the odd dog walker. Looking east towards the pier.

Looking west towards Quarr and Fishbourne.

There are some impressive houses on this side of Ryde, presumably dating from its glory days as a resort and as an escape from Portsmouth, then a hundred or more public houses revolving about ruling the waves.

This one, for example, has its own off-street parking, more or less enclosed by the hedge and front wall (behind the camera), secure entrance and the sea out front. Ferry to Portsmouth just minutes away. The only catch is the public car park to the right - but then, you can't have everything. A car park which might once have been part of the garden of either this house or the larger and grander one to the right. Or was the car park the site of a third house, bombed out during the war and subsequently demolished?

The second foray followed from the first. That is to say the important document we had posted during the first foray was not good enough. I had not crossed quite enough 't's - or perhaps not dotted quite enough 'i's. Or perhaps I had crossed or dotted one too many. In any event all to be done again, in a holiday cottage where we had access to the Internet but no access to a printer. On the other hand we did have a data stick, good for several gigabytes.

So I asked Bing about print shops in Ryde, print shops which might be able to print the offending form off the data stick for me to fill in all over again. Answer a bit vague, directing me to various commercial printers on the outskirts, probably not much interested in trifling walk-in print jobs.

So we decide the try the library. If they couldn't do it, they probably knew of someone who could.

And as luck would have it, we found a free parking spot in Newport Street, not far at all from the library. An interesting street, with one of the items of interest being a souvenir from the days when we bashed enough metal that local builders' merchants like Hurst could peddle their own drain covers. Hurst having now mutated into a rather superior version of Robert Dyas, serving most of the towns on the island.

And another one, this one from Osborne the contractor, of nearby Union Street. Probably no longer extant. But if we were to move to Ryde I could perhaps take up collecting drain covers as an alternative to collecting Wellingtonia, with some evidence of a penchant for same being provided at reference 3. Perhaps I could put myself up as a speaker at one of the conferences noticed at reference 4?

A street containing an unusual mixture of old and new. Flats. Houses. Prayers shops. Workshops. A police station, visible just about in the middle of the snap above.

And somewhere nearby where the owner appeared to take a dim view of paying window taxes. Perhaps he (or she) was aping his betters in London, doing one better in fact, as London tax evaders generally settle for bricking up the odd window round the back.

The shops - and the library - were just around the corner. And the helpful library staff took me in hand and printed off my form for the modest sum of £1.20 or some such. They didn't seem to mind at all that I was a foreigner and all I had to do was produce some identification. Perhaps they thought, as an old person, I wouldn't have a clue about how to use their public access computers and that it would be best simply to do the job for me, rather than bothering to explain. They were probably right: I would have got there in the end but it would have taken me a lot longer than it took them.

Next stop the greengrocer in the High Street where we bought some help yourself cherries at £10 the kilo. I wondered about hygiene, but the cherries were fine and we suffered no ill-effects.

Last stop, on the way back to the car, was visiting an artist's studio which happened to be having an open studio day. Another person of an artistic bent whose parents did not think that art college was the way forward. Instead she studied languages, which meant that she could earn her living as a translator while resting between artistic engagements. So not such a bad outcome. See reference 5. We left with a modest painting, nicely wrapped up in a couple of sheets of serious cardboard. Our first purchase of art for some years.

From there, down to a shady parking spot on the Esplanade, behind the duck pond, where we once celebrated a wedding anniversary in a pedal-powered swan. But we didn't stay long as even as early as 11:30 or so, armed with an umbrella, it was too hot for comfort. Just about managed a substantial, but not very good bacon roll in one of the cafés. To the accompaniment of chatter about the dog of the people sitting at the next table. Casual chatter of a sort which Ryde seems to be good for. Working up to cruise-life?

PS 1: in the course of our stay we got through a fair number of English cherries, mostly pretty good and apart from those mentioned above, all from the large Tesco's between Ryde and Brading. Very few duds. We also learned that the Tesco's translation of the Sainsbury's 'Taste the difference'slogan is 'Quality and taste', with a much smaller version of the badge snapped above being included on the packaging of relevant items.

PS 2: I had just finished this post when I read in the mineral book by Richard Pearl, noticed at reference 6, that 'All this energy has been stored in the rocks for long geological ages and is being released at a rate which is viewed with alarm by thoughtful observers'. This in a book which was written in 1956 and was last revised in 1966. But then, I recall reading a remark about the unhealthy pace of consumption in a book by Aldous Huxley, written in the 1930's.  Another thoughtful observer, even if he took the wrong line in the run-up to second world war - before scuttling off to the the US for the duration. At least he had the excuses for this last that he had terrible eyesight and was not of military age.

PS 3: the Kosovan sausages noticed at reference 6 were, as it happens, consumed in sausage stews while we were on the Isle of Wight. A useful supplement to our diet.

References

Reference 1: https://thehortonepsom.org/.

Reference 2: https://www.royalmail.com/priority-postboxes.

Reference 3: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2021/07/no34-continued-with-drains.html.

Reference 4: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2019/05/boring.html.

Reference 5: https://www.rosemarylawrey.co.uk/.

Reference 6: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/07/up-junction.html.

Ryde

[looking west towards Ryde Pier]

It was very hot for a good bit of the time that we were in the Isle of Wight, too hot to be sitting on a beach all day, whether or not we went so far as to go swimming. Which, as it happens, was good at Ryde at high tide: clean, clear water over sand.

[looking west again. Benches with shade]

So, for getting on for half our time, we settled on Ryde. A north facing place with a long esplanade, lots of sand and a good supply of cafés, toilets, benches and shade. Ryde in the morning, with umbrella, back to Brading to snooze through the heat of the day. Which meant some early starts by holiday standards.

Rock cakes not as good as those at south facing Yaverland, as noticed last year at reference 1.

[something underground at Puckpool Battery. Magazine of some sort?]

Bacon and egg baps very good at the café in Puckpool Park, as noticed last year at reference 2. Bacon perhaps just a little salty for our taste. What appeared to be an older father with an autistic son, perhaps 20 or so. The son was not being difficult on this occasion, but we were reminded that it would still be hard work.

Most of our refreshments from the various cafés, but nearly fell for Yelf's hotel (a pleasantly old fashioned  place in Union Street) and on another occasion for the noodlarium on the front. Actually fell for the Ryde Castle, where we were treated to a wedding. Lots of fancy dress - including one older chap in a smart suit, nipping out for a roll-up from time to time.

No sign of the heavy duty water works of last year, also noticed at reference 1.

Some on shore, low tide dredging. Probably something to do with the channel out of the yacht basin.

Several modern racing yachts, sloop rigged, with very tall, black mainsails. On one occasion, one appeared to be rolling up its foresail to tack, presumably quicker than carrying the clew of a big foresail around the mast.

[Originally commissioned by the lawyer and passionate yachtsman Charles Plumptre Johnson, Moonbeam of Fife III was built by the UK shipbuilder William Fife & Sons in 1903 as Moonbeam III. With the story at reference 4 being that it was originally rigged as a yawl. Very sumptous interior with lots of top-notch brown wood. Seemingly now owned by a foreigner]

[racing at Harwich in 1935, lifted from reference 5. With what looks like a Thames barge, on the horizon behind. All too rich for Mr. Langtry of reference 6: he blew his modest fortune on much smaller yachts. The public cuckold of the famous lilly and he made rather heavy weather of it. While I never made it to a Thames barge, having to satisfy myself with a childish outing on a Norfolk wherry]

Several old-style racing cutters, gaff rigged, maybe not as big as those snapped above. Big main sails with big booms and failure to duck when tacking could easily be fatal. Must cost a fortune to run these days.

One three masted, gaff rigged schooner. Got confused by the gaff sails without topsails in the first instance, making it four masts. On the ferry which took us back to Portsmouth, we got a much closer view of it tied up next to our ferry dock. Quite possibly something to do with reference 3, although they don't seem to offer any nice shots of their boats there.

Plenty of cargo ships. Some ferries off to the continent. Some cruise liners. No naval action.

We wondered, without coming to any conclusion, about the catamaran ferry which ran to and from the pier head. I don't suppose it drew much water, but then at low tide there wasn't very much either.

[a new beach hut on the way in. They seemed to come in various sizes. Some, for example, had storage space underneath and some sported chimneys]

All in all, a bright, sandy and happy beach. All sorts there. Children, young people and older people. Oiling rituals. Some swimming. Some serious encampments, although we did not see a primus stove. All things considered, not much sunburn on show.

PS: I remember, years ago now, getting my shoulders badly sunburned by swimming in shallow water off Hunstanton's north beach. Shoulders wet enough to keep cool, but but not deep enough to block the UV. That apart, a handsome beach with red and white striped cliffs.

References 

Reference 1: http://psmv4.blogspot.com/2021/07/back-to-yaverland.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2021/07/ryde.html.

Reference 3: https://www.tallships.org/.

Reference 4: https://www.maritimeviews.co.uk/byy-biographies/johnson-charles-plumptre/.

Reference 5: https://www.merseamuseum.org.uk/.

Reference 6: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/02/the-jersey-lily.html.

A puzzle

This being a puzzle to be sorted out when a gap opens up in my busy schedule. A puzzle which came to be between waking and rising this Wednesday morning. A morning when some sufficient chunk of our railway workforce are on strike and there should be lots of people working at home with time on their hands. Sufficient meaning just enough to close down the network: perhaps the just the chaps who turn the power on in the morning.

We have two real companies, C1 and C2, working away and making money. They have incomes.

We have two funds, F1 and F2, which make money by owning other entities, rather than by actually doing anything. So F1 owns all of C1 and a chunk of F2, while F2 owns all of C2 and a chunk of F1.

We have two investors in funds, I1 and I2. I1 owns a chunk of F1 and I2 owns a chunk of F2. They get dividends.

Puzzle: what are the incomes of F1 and F2?

I suspect that Microsoft's Excel will decline to solve the puzzle on the grounds that the definitions are circular. So will I get to the bottom of the matter in some other way by close of play today? Will anyone else?

PS: if both funds can be bought and sold on the stock exchange, I do not yet see any bar to F1 and F2 owning chunks of each other. But maybe something will come to me. Maybe the regulators will follow Excel and declare such arrangements to be illegal. But then, how would they know if all kinds of dodgy offshore intermediaries are brought into play?

Minor moans

First moan is about a water bill from Thames Water which occupied four sides of A4 but which I found rather uninformative. Gave me no idea whether our usage was going up or down or whether our payments matched that usage. Just a laconic 'no action needed'. Perhaps it is all part of the plot to get us off paper bills, helpful or otherwise, and to get us into their maze of online life.

Second moan is about the two newly replanted trees outside Wetherspoon's in our newly resurfaced market square, as noticed at reference 1. They are both looking a bit sad, never having really got going, but I don't suppose the manager at Wetherspoon's ever thinks to get someone to pour the odd bucket of water over their roots. Which one would not have thought was a great deal of bother - less bother than phoning up the council to moan about it - and would, in due course, usefully enhance their veranda experience.

Third and last moan is about a fine of £60 for failing to display a valid parking ticket in Brading car park. We were guilty as charged - but it is also quite possible that the chap who issued the fine recognised our car and knew perfectly well that we had a holiday letting ticket, that is to say a free pass. In any event, while we understand the need to keep things simple, it is still irritating to be fined in this way. Let's hope that Brading council get a share of the loot. Let's also hope that bored Brading youth don't get their jollies on Friday nights by removing these tickets - in which case one might appeal - although I suspect it would be quicker and easier just to pay the £100 that would by then be due.

I might also say that the ticket had none of the heavy black print and aggressive warnings that come with speeding fines. All much more low key, much better to that extent.

PS: this (Tuesday) morning, I add a fourth moan. My favourite railway timetable, that once offered by Network Rail or perhaps National Rail from the address at reference 3, has not been working properly, mostly not at all, since the start of industrial action, some weeks ago now. And is still not working this morning. At least not on my laptop. You get started, then it gives you a bad request message, the sort of low-level message that suggests that something is broken somewhere. Reduced to using their more commercial rival at reference 4, the people who have paid Microsoft and Google to appear at the top of searches.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/04/notre-dame.html.

Reference 2: https://www.localparkingsecurity.co.uk/. The people to whom Brading have subbed out car park management. Much simpler than adding it to the duties of one of their chaps already in the area... Perhaps the chap who looks after the toilets in the car park, presently not open? Or perhaps the chap who keeps the large grave yard on the other side of the wall in order?

Reference 3: https://ojp.nationalrail.co.uk/.

Reference 4: https://www.thetrainline.com/.

The news from Hebron

Following the book noticed at reference 1 a couple of months ago, I was sorry to see from reference 2 yesterday that the Israeli government has succeeded in its quest to push some Palestinian villagers off their land in the south Hebron hills, in favour of its use by the military. I did not notice anything about compensation, rehousing, provision of new land or anything else of that sort.

If this was all one had to go on, one might think this a victory for just the sort of unpleasant nationalists who in Russia want to grind the Ukrainians down to the point of non-existence. Perhaps in this case they would settle for just pushing them into the Gaza strip.

PS: we also have Orbán of Hungary making the same sort of news at reference 3. While Wikipedia tells me that Hungary was surprisingly Hungarian for a central European country, most of which are or were pretty mixed up, and even more so after a serious bout of ethnic cleansing after the Second World War, getting foreigners down to a little more than 2% in 1990. But something went wrong after that, with all kinds of foreigners getting back in. Maybe immigration is as big an issue in Hungary as it is in quite a few other European countries. And maybe Orbán has his eyes of chunks of neighbouring countries with significant Hungarian minorities...

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/05/freedom-and-despair.html.

Reference 2: Palestinian villagers lose 20-year legal fight to hang on to homes: Court ruling in favour of armed forces paves way for one of biggest evictions in West Bank in decades - James Shotter, Financial Times - 2022.

Reference 3: Viktor Orbán sparks outrage with attack on ‘race mixing’ in Europe: Hungary’s far-right prime minister says countries where races mingle are ‘no longer nations’ - Shaun Walker, Flora Garamvolgyi, Guardian - 2022.

Trolley 520

The tempo of trolley capture is right down, with the last one being from the middle of June. But, as they say at Tesco's, every little helps.

Yesterday's walk was an abbreviated version of the Ewell Village anti-clockwise, as detailed above: a route which can be thought of as a roundabout way of getting from the southern end of Manor Green Road to the northern end. The full version, would take in Ewell West station, just visible top right.

No trolleys that I could see in town centre. None with the creationists in East Street. Just this one at the top of Kiln Lane, only a hundred yards or so off-site, visible between the back of the car and the lamp post. But it does qualify. Distant snap because of the need to find some shade in which to take it.

Through the Sainsbury's car park, round the back and over the footbridge to find a few ripe blackberries in the rough ground leading to the Gas depot. A bit of rain and a bit more sun and we should be away, pretty much in line with the start of the season last year, noticed at reference 2.

A useful car transporter chucked in the hedge just past the Environment Conservation Station at the top of Blenheim Road. Slightly damaged and there are some bits missing, but it should serve to move important others - for example a giraffe or a cat - around the back garden. Rather to my surprise the lights and the associated noises still work, although BH may decide we would do better if she took the batteries out. Although that would need my agreement to supply the necessary screwdriver, hidden away in the garage.

A damaged transporter of something else a bit further down Blenheim Road. Damaged in that the rather flimsy structure providing cover for the goods on the trailer has collapsed. Otherwise, a smart new wagon. I imagine, a case of stripping it off and replacing it.

Home to roast chicken, served without the sage & onion stuffing which we take in the winter but with the boiled vegetables: rice, cabbage and carrots. The green cabbage having been £1 from the market.

Taken with a 2019 Saint-Véran which we rather liked. From the Tesco's at Ryde which had a better choice of mid-range wine than that offered by either Sainsbury's or Waitrose here at Epsom. Checking this morning, I find that I tried and like an older version of very nearly the same thing last year, as noticed at reference 3.

With Jadot being a brand that one sees about and which we have tried occasionally, with good results. Perhaps to be tried more often.

Polished off some cherries from the market for dessert, bought the day before, along with the cabbage, some oranges and some small cucumbers, which last I rather like. The cherries were £8.40 the kilo, English, large, dark and ripe. Rather good with few if any duds, but they would not have kept much longer given the heat.

Later on, polished off BH at Scrabble for the second day running, helped along by a good run of tiles on both occasions.

PS: oranges very variable at the moment, and I find it very hard to judge quality from the outside. Yesterday, the first one of these ones was rather sour, possibly by way of contrast with something else. While this morning, the second one was rather good, if a little chewy.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/06/trolley-519.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2021/08/blackberries.html.

Reference 3: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2021/09/muscle-man.html.

Reference 4: https://www.louisjadot.com/.

Reference 5: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/08/abbey.html. Possibly the first Jadot.

Group search key: trolleysk.

Wellingtonia 84

The first warm up for Nunwell House took the form of a chance visit to the small museum in Brading Town Hall, the one by the church, looked after, on this occasion, by a lady who was born an Oglander (the people who came across with the Norman bastard, extinct in the male line in 1874, revived with a spot of deed poll), was brought up in Nunwell House and now lives in the former coach house, the house (but not the estate) having been sold to another once military family, the Aylmers, in 1982. Also Anglo-Normans from Ireland. From what she told us, this was a money decision: the house was too big and expensive, the estate was retained for the income it brought in and the changed arrangements were tax efficient.

The coach house, lower left. Looks a fair size from the air - as indeed is the corresponding place at Polesden Lacey now housing the shop, the cafeteria, rest rooms and ticket office. Plus a rather splendid water tower. 

While here we have what looks as if it had once been the walled garden, top middle, given over to fruit and vegetables for the big house. Not clear what it is now.

Maybe a decade ago, we and a small number of others, were shown around the house by Colonel Aylmer, late of the Irish Guards. As I recall, tall, thin and well-preserved. A visit which I do not seem to have noticed. Furthermore, as a non-subscriber, I don't get much more than the snap above.

The museum was small, but contained some good stuff. Which we were allowed to touch and which was presented with some gusto. The museum also housed what was left of the Brading Lending Library, founded by a bequest and appearing to consist of lots of worthy books, uniformly bound for the job. I forget what happened to this library. Perhaps on winding up, they transferred the still useful part of their stock to the county library service.

The second warm up, was a gentle walk across the marshes which were once Brading harbour, towards St. Helens. Lots of twittering in the bushes, but the visual tweets amounted to an egret, a couple of herons and a great tit. Aural tweets amounted to a few skylarks.

A light lunch, followed by a visit to the gardens of Nunwell House, open as part of some gardens' day or some such. The one of the two ladies on the gate being the granddaughter of the colonel.

Attractive gardens, with lots of interesting plants and flowers, but with some signs of retrenchment. Five acres of garden is a fair bit to look after, even with a motor mower doing some of the heavy work. Lots of old oaks in the park land around.

The view up the Wellingtonia. This one being in the garden, rather than in the field, and additional to that at reference 1.

A detail of an attractive, but as yet unidentified tree. A good deal shorter than the Wellingtonia.

A proper close-up.

More evidence of global warming. These echiums seem to have got everywhere since we first came across their headquarters at the Ventnor Botanic Gardens, formerly a sanatorium. Or sana as Simenon's low life would have it.

A couple of buzzards, more or less overhead, in the course of the proceedings.

Quite a lot of dressing up by the ladies. One parasol - plus my umbrella.  A mixture of friends, neighbours, local people and holiday makers. At least one male parson, possibly the successor of the female parson at Brading, the one with a toy farm, as noticed at reference 3. There was a good room provided for tea and cake, with both these last being good too. All very Midsomer.

On exit, we came across the very swing which I used as a child in Cambridge, more than sixty years previously. The car however, is not ours. Far too smart and grand.

On return to Brading, amused by this sign on a rather scruffy horse & donkey field behind our cottage. In Surrey, it is just the sort of thing you would expect to see on a field bought by a traveller. Little respect for the property of others, but very touchy when it came to his own, be it ever so scruffy.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/07/wellingtonia-83.html. On the way in.

Reference 2: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/07/junk-shop.html. As the ruling family, the Oglanders rated their own side chapel in the church at Brading.

Reference 3: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2021/07/back-to-yaverland.html.

Group search key: wgc.