Monday, 24 June 2024

Fake 178

It was convenient to visit the cheese shop in Shorts Gardens yesterday afternoon. In conversation with the knowledgeable counter hand, I learned that the truckles to the left above are fakes. They are made out of real matured cheese cloth but contain no cheese.

The point being, I think, that one want to have impressive cheese in the window, but you don't want people to touch it. So best if the pile nearest the customers is fake.

Apparently a young drunk, a wannabee thief, made a grab for such a truckle in the shop in Borough Market and came near to falling over backwards when there was no weight in it. A proper truckle, it seems, might weigh 30kg or more, more than I would want to carry about these days, even if it was free.

30kg seems about right, relative to the 1,000g in two, roughly equal wedges that I buy. The first step being to cut the truckle in half cross wise, then to cut the two halves into quarters vertically. Then again into two 90° wedges to the quarter. Then to cut little wedges for the customers off the big wedges. My 1,000g measures maybe 2 inches across the two fat ends. 30 = 2 × π × r seems to give a sensible value for r, the radius. Or, doing it another way, four of my purchases to the big wedge seems about right.

Waitrose, when I used to buy the stuff in Epsom, used truckles which had been cut into three, rather than two. Which meant that some people did better on the rind front that others, which I always thought was rather unfair. And irritating when one was sure one got a rindy piece nearly every time.

On the prompt: 'What would a truckle of Lincolnshire Poacher cheddar cheese weigh', Gemini, to my surprise, did not have a clue what a truckle was, guessing the weight at 200g. The usual grovel when I corrected him: 'You are absolutely right. I apologize for the mistake in my previous response'. Copilot did much better, knew what a truckle was and claimed that a truckle of Lincolnshire Poacher might weigh 20kg. On querying the 20kg, he said this was an average for this type of cheese, rather than this particular one, but thought that 30kg sounded rather a lot. Certainly rather a lot to carry, even in a rucksack.

PS: I am reminded that Gemini - or perhaps his predecessor Bard - was very erratic at sums when I last tried. Perhaps time for another try.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/05/fake-177.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/06/classical-and-literary-allusions.html. More Gemini.

Group search key: fakesk.

Trolley 713

Captured from a spot next to one of the benches near the market end of the Kokoro Passage. A bench occupied by an older lady who assured me she had no claim to it, and was quite happy for me to take it home. Snapped by one of the dustbins serving the market.

Returned to a near empty stack in the M&S food hall.

Out to look at some strips of belly pork hung up in the big red lorry, but decided against on this occasion. Nothing caught my eye in the fruit and veg stall, and even if it had, I might have been put off by the queue. And so proceeded around the Screwfix circuit empty handed: what with the heat and the creaking back that was quite far enough.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/06/trolley-712.html.

Group search key: trolleysk.

Festival

A fortnight ago to Hampton Court Palace, for what turned out to be a festival of sorts. Managed to get through to RingGo for car parking without too much trauma, then stopped to admire this curious stretched thistle, flowers visible in front of the white building top left, in the flower bed between the car park and the station. A flower bed maintained, possibly on a voluntary basis, by one of ladies on the Southwestern team.

Google Images turned up lots of stuff, as did straight search, but nothing sprang out as the answer. Even when I tried zooming and artful snipping to highlight the curious leaves down below. I dare say if I flogged through it all, I would get there in the end, but not today. Maybe next time the lady will be there and I can ask her.

Much noise in the station itself, both from the announcement loudspeaker and from passengers. Perhaps they were in competition.

Still no visible action in the vacant lot, although there are some flowering shrubs coming along. I suppose all the property consultants involved need time to process the consultation (noticed towards the end of reference 1) and to get their bills in.

Arrived at the entrance to the Palace to find access denied. There was a literary festival on for which pre-booking and payment was required. Something called the Queen's Reading Room Festival - involving the Way Ahead Group Ltd - to judge by the email receipts which turned up later. Our first thought was that it seemed unlikely that either the present queen or her predecessor were big readers and we retired across the road to regroup at the Coppernose Café: your independent, neighbourhood café - which just happens to have a web address derived from the Mitre Hotel next door. Over refreshment, without checking properly, we decided to give the festival a whirl. Maybe there would be some fringe entertainment. After which we were entertained by a jolly older couple sporting loud T-shirts advertising Dyson, which turned out to really be loud T-shirts advertising the Bath rugby team, due to play a nearby Twickenham that very afternoon.

I think that in this case 'other amusement and recreation activities not elsewhere classified' means ticketing services. Quite a small operation.

Further entertainment in the form of the very substantial tea bag that came with my tea. How would it do on my compost heap?

While BH was pleased to find out all about Old Coppernose and his debased coinage. for which the curious reader is referred to Google. Or failing that, Copilot, who did a serviceable job this afternoon. I wonder if, being a member of the Microsoft family, he had access to my recent viewing history to give him a steer, a helping hand?

Back across the road, where I succeeded in getting £30 removed from my bank account - via Paypal - as I prefer my telephone to know as little as possible about my banking affairs. And on through the gates to find that no-one there had a clue what we had paid for. We're just here to mind the door guv.

But they had done a good job of turning some of their front lawns into one of those wild flower meadows which are all the rage at the moment - and we had done a good job of turning up on a day when it was in full flower.

I took an interest in the cruciform interior of the poppy flowers.

Got inside the Palace to find that all the security people were still only there to guard the doors. No idea what was going on. No programmes being dished out. Eventually we found that what we had paid was just a basic fee to get us entrance to the Palace  - which as subscribers  we had hoped that we had already paid for - and then you paid a further £15 a pop for every celebrity that you wanted to hear. People like Ian Rankin and Mary Beard. Which sounds quite a lot, but it is the same as we used to pay at the Royal Institution for both A and B list celebrities. Flat rate. Quite a few people, quite a lot of them young, had stumped up their £15's on this occasion and were to be found queuing here and there. Festival stalls and other collateral turned out to amount to half a dozen sheds out on the east terrace offering various kinds of street food. After all, you couldn't really call it a festival without street food.

We decided that we could pass on celebrities and settled for enjoying the gardens, much quieter than they would usually be on a summer Saturday. I wondered whether turning off the full-price, regular tourists for a day was really a good plan from their point of view.

This stretch of herbaceous border more or less vanished, apart from some rather ugly outdoor art. I guess in our subsidy-free world, they can't afford the gardeners any more. How long is it since the boss of Hampton Court was some serious heritage or gardening type, rather than the travel & tourism people they probably get in now?

The most recent annual report appears to be that for 2018-2019, to be found at reference 5, not a brilliant bit of transparency and accountability, at which time the chair was one Rupert Gavin  (above) and the chief executive was John Barnes (reference 6 and below).

So it looks as if I was being a bit unfair. Not exactly tweeds, pipe and donnish appearance, but perfectly respectable CVs for all that.

And the privy garden was in its usual fine state. I dare say on a hot day like today, the beech-covered walk would provide cool & welcome shade. Live shade of this sort eating up the heat in a way that the dead shade of tents and such like does not.

We took a sit in the cool and pleasant orchard, underneath the walk. Lightly mowed.

A handsome bed, in a quiet way, next to the flashier of the two sunken gardens. I think it used to be a display of dahlias in the olden days.

Some martins swinging about the Fountain Court, not visible here, no doubt attracted by the flies attracted by the standing water.

A fine foxglove in one of the surviving herbaceous beds.

A fine something else nearby. Suitably snipped, This time Google Images had got enough to go on to give a clear verdict in favour of the plume poppy (Macleaya microcarpa). After a quick poke around, taking in reference 7, I think I agree with him.

The new format rose garden was looking very well on this occasion. Time for another sit on one of the benches provided.

Somewhere along the way we took lunch in the old kitchen. Soup and pie for him, filled bagel for her. All very satisfactory, if a little dear.

While on exit, BH was very pleased to spot someone marching up the drive in full dress (as it were) who looked very like Miriam Margolyes. The sort of person who likes to be recognised. She was very early for her spot, so perhaps she had some prep to do. BH knew all about her; for those like me who do not, there is always reference 8.

A good day. Despite appearances, we got our money's worth.

PS 1: I think the 'azureedge' part of reference 5 is one of the Microsoft Cloud offerings. Another bit of critical national infrastructure shipped off to the US. Unless Microsoft sub it on to Mexico that is. Hopefully part of their package is keeping the almost state-sponsored hackers from Russia at bay, something we do not always quite manage for ourselves.

PS 2: when will Russians come to regret giving themselves over to gangsters - in much the same way as we have given ourselves over to private equity types? Hoods in suits as an old leftie might say.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/04/tulips-at-hampton-court.html.

Reference 2: https://mitrehamptoncourt.com/food-drink/the-coppernose/.

Reference 3: https://www.hrp.org.uk/hampton-court-palace/whats-on/the-queens-reading-room/#gs.aqcdod.

Reference 4: https://thequeensreadingroom.co.uk/.

Reference 5: https://hrp-prd.azureedge.net/media/2510/annual-review-2018-19.pdf. 

Reference 6: http://www.jabaarchitect.co.uk/.

Reference 7: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Macleaya_microcarpa. 

Reference 8: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miriam_Margolyes.

Sunday, 23 June 2024

Classical and literary allusions

This arising from a reading of reference 1, a book written in 1944, a chance pick-me-up at the Raynes Park platform library, written as it happens by the brother of a one-time director general of MI5. A brother who scatters a lot of classical and literary allusions through his text and the present post is some thoughts about the value of such - and about Gemini's success (or otherwise) in unravelling them. Gemini being Google's AI/chat/assistant offering at reference 3 - an offering which I might say I much prefer to that from Microsoft, the irritatingly intrusive Copilot. I also think it is better.

Most of these allusions take the form of Latin quotes, but we also have Dante, Dickens and the Bible. No French and no German, this last perhaps because the war was on.

The book takes the form of a fictional memoir, which I have not yet finished, probably containing a fair amount of autobiographical material, of someone from the comfortable middle classes in the middle of the second world war. At the War Office in Whitehall for the duration. Proper notice of the book will follow in due course.

Despite regarding myself as fairly well educated and fairly well read, I was somewhat uncertain - not to say completely at sea - about most of the classical and literary allusions, both as to what they alluded to and as to why they had been included in the present book. What was the value add? So I checked some of them, a business which both intruded on reading the book in question and generated more interesting information that I could comfortably process on the fly. 

A sample of those checks follows. The white letters on black being the raw Gemini, the black letters on white being the archived version.

I start with King Charles' head which crops up on page 62 in conversation between the narrator and an old acquaintance, probably from his school days, with my simple interchange with Gemini reproduced above. I am told the phrase comes from Mr. Dick, an important character in the Dickens' novel 'David Copperfield' and might be loosely translated at preoccupation or obsession.

Now although I read a fair bit, I have never got on very well with Dickens, although I did spend quality time with 'Bleak House' a few months ago. I don't think I have ever read David Copperfield, so the present allusion was completely lost on me. No copy in the house, but I was able to turn up a pdf at Project Gutenberg which was searchable, and so better.

15 instances of 'King Charles', a quick perusal of some of which suggests that Gemini has got it more or less right. On the other hand, without getting to grips with Dickens, which is not going to happen, I do not feel I have really got hold of the phrase. Obsession or hobby-horse gives the general idea, but does not capture the character of Mr. Dick.

But at least it was easy enough to check Gemini's reponse.

Next stop, Jesus on the Cross on page 56. I think I might have vaguely known that 'Eloi, lama sabachthani' were more or less his last words before expiring on the Cross, but it was quicker and easier to ask Gemini than try and delve in my memory. And Gemini gets the biblical references right - Matthew 27:46 and Mark 15:34. And the quote from Psalm 22.

Interesting, in that the phrase is Aramaic, the everyday language of the time and place, while the psalm from which it is taken was written in Hebrew. But Gemini covers that off well enough when prompted. Perhaps Google has hoovered up a lot of Bible studies from the Bible belt of the US.

On a quick read, Psalm 22 is David trying to deal a deal with the deity: so, taking a few liberties, 'if you get me out of this terrible fix, I'll build you the biggest temple the world has ever seen'. I was also struck by the verse about the soldiers dividing up your clothes - while you are still around enough to watch. All a bit grim - and borrowed by all four New Testament accounts of the crucifixion - with St. John adding that his outer coat was made of a single piece of cloth, and not liking to cut it, they threw dice for it. I believe Hindus have special regard for single pieces of cloth, made on a single pass of the loom, too. While the much shorter Psalm 23 is the more pastoral 'The Lord is my Shepherd'.

Which is all very well, but I still don't see the point that Hollis is making in using the phrase in the way he does. Either the narrator is showing off his biblical knowledge or he is being a bit cheeky in comparing his problems to those of our Lord on the day he was crucified.


Next up a phrase in Latin from page 19, which I managed to spell slightly wrong. And which turns out to be a well known motto, associated with, but not tracked down in, Virgil. So if Gemini has got this right, it is really just a bit of private slang, known only to the initiated. Nothing terribly deep about it at all. 

But the fact that this snap is white rather than black illustrated one of the good features of Gemini. It seems to keep all your conversations and you can go back over them, should you want to, as I do on this occasion. What I can't do is fiddle with the size of the panel so that I get both the prompt and the reply on the same snip. But both are there.


Another one from the same page. Which leaves me wondering how this particular quote bears on the war against Hitler. Is it just another case of members of the club chucking these phrases about to show each other how clever they are?


And last but not least, on page 76, we have a quote from Dante about Beatrice. For a change, I try Microsoft's Copilot, getting the response top left. Which is near enough for me to turn the quote up, not from Canto XXIII but from Canto XXVII. And when I point this out to Copilot, mistakenly typing XXVIII for XXVII, I get the following grovel, just the sort of thing I quite often get from Gemini: ‘My apologies for the oversight! You are absolutely correct. The line you shared is indeed from Canto XXVIII of Dante Alighieri’s “Divine Comedy.” Thank you for pointing that out! If you have any more literary inquiries or need further assistance, feel free to ask’. You can't really trust these things at all!

A different sort of difficulty is that we have three different translations above and Hollis offers a fourth. How on earth is one supposed to make anything useful of this when one knows more or less nothing about Dante, the language he wrote in or his Beatrice?


To round matters off, I thought I would ask Gemini about the book as a whole. First sentence right. Second sentence wrong, first because we have a memoir of one Peter Hartington-Smith, once a close friend of the by-then late Fossett, and second because it is not set in an English public school at all, although some of the material is drawn from having been at one. The summary of the author not too bad, although it misses out the first half of his life, including his conversion to Catholicism as a young man. The reception section is plausible, but could just as well have been made up from a few hints scattered around the Internet.


And when I corrected him, I got just the same guff as I got from Microsoft, as included above. Is it any more trustworthy? 

Conclusions

Looking this sort of stuff up as you go along is no substitute for a proper grounding in the classics and in literature, both from home and the near-foreign - that is to say the bigger countries of western Europe. Replacing proper classical baggage - to which I have few pretensions - with one or two word translations - is not the same as knowing the original on its home ground. 

Much the same could be said of all the Shakespearian allusions to be found in Agatha Christie, most of the value of which lies in the shared cultural background, in which many of the people reading her books had at least a nodding acquaintance with the Bard. The less attractive take would be that such allusions foster a false sense of belonging to some kind of literary free masonry; they stroke our vanity without adding much of real value.

Of course, it may be that Hollis is just poking fun at people who let fly all the time with these allusions. Although, even if that were the case, he would still need to be a fairly cultured chap himself to come up with all this stuff, which does, after all, more or less check out.

And it is also true that even when people who know their Shakespeare come to read him again, they quite often like the support of learned commentary. I quite like, for example, the support offered by the Arden editions. If you try and read stuff as old and complicated as Shakespeare, you are going to need a guide because his world and its language have moved on and you will have trouble on your own.

In sum, at the time of writing this, I think, as a writer, you are better laying off the allusions. If you have got something to say, say it in the public language of the realm, on the spot. Do not rely on pointers to the work of other authors, pointers which may or may not get lost in translation. But note also that one cannot carry this very far: you can only aspire to being completely self contained if you write at great length - the length of most of the standard texts used in universities being witness to this fact.

From where I associate to a problem which arises in the study of consciousness. If we suppose, which many who know do not, that the contents of consciousness at any one point in time are entirely derived from some small, dedicated, discrete patch of storage in the brain, a patch that has been put together for the occasion by some tricky process of compilation, that patch has to contain everything. Pointers to somewhere else or something else will not do.

A problem which the authors of the once fashionable computer language Algol-68 knew all about. They were clearly fascinated by the possibilities of long and complicated chains of reference. And when exactly was the right time to call in those chains and turn them into a real value - to a string of bytes that you could do real work with.

PS: the image at the top is from Amazon. My copy did not come with a dustjacket, but this one looks as if it might well have been the original. Focusing on the cod-rural rather than the urban part of the story.

References

Reference 1: Fossett’s memory – Christopher Hollis – 1944.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/05/songs.html. Provenance, with picture.

Reference 3: https://gemini.google.com/app?hl=en-GB.

Saturday, 22 June 2024

A toy

I first came across the online mathematical aid called GeoGebra some years ago and noticed it more recently at reference 1. I am still working away at the paper at reference 2 and I have been playing with the GeoGebra program at reference 4, intended as a toy demonstration of some of the possibilities of the spiral growth of plants, of which it is a very common – but not universal – feature. There is a lot of spiral growth about and, in this program, it is modelled on a disc, rather in the way of a disc of the sunflower.

A lot of what follows is encapsulated in Figure 2 of said reference 2. A report on work in progress and I shall acknowledge some of the various other material which I have consulted along the way in a report to come. In the meantime, I just thank Boris Rozin for drawing my attention to the importance of the human visual system here. To adapt a common phrase, it takes two to spiral.

The model

We have a circular generating zone of radius 1 (aka meristem). Our nodes (aka primordia) are generated on the periphery of that zone at intervals of time of T (aka plastochron) and angle α  (aka divergence angle), as measured from the centre of the zone, from the last one. 

Noting in passing that building biology to support constant time and constant angle – if that is where we end up – might well prove difficult – despite all the effort which has been put into taking biological clocks apart over the last few decades.

The units of α are such that α = 0 ≡ 1 ≡ 360° ≡ 2π radians ≡ one complete revolution about the generating zone. Where ‘≡’ means equivalent to, slightly weaker than equals.

All this is to say that each successive node is generated at time T after its predecessor and at clockwise angle α from that predecessor. The start point is due east, that is to say, middle right.

Generated nodes move radially outwards with a velocity of 1.

I dare say the model works by stepping through T units of time the requisite number of times, generating a new node and moving the rest radially outwards, at each step. A reasonable approximation.

Figure A

The model displays graphically a nominated number of generated nodes given nominated values for T and α. A simple example is snapped above, with α = 4/5, with the key point being that α is a rational for which 5 is the minimum denominator. That is to say that there is no way of expressing α as an integral ratio with denominator less than 5, but plenty of ways of expressing it with denominator more than 5. The numbers 4 and 5 are relatively prime. All this means that we get five straight arms. It is the order of their generation which is the function of four.

For a given number of points, as T gets smaller, the lines shrink and the red dots get closer together, at the limit collapsing to a point on the periphery of the green generating zone.

Note that the five arms are well spaced out around the generating zone. They are not going to interfere with each other, visually or otherwise. On result of which is that we see the arms but we do not see the generating spiral, the spiral which joins up the nodes in order of generation, which would be whizzing round and round the generating zone.

Note also that biology does not do limits. They might be convenient mathematically, but they don’t fly at the level of cells. The real world is granular, not smooth all over.

Replacing arms


In this model, generated nodes are points, as in geometry. Unlike the generating zone, they have position but no extent. However, on the screen or page, they do have extent and may be thought of as being approximated by small circles, which has some effect on their collective perception, as for example when they run together into a thick straight line.

In the left-hand panel above, the 25 radial lines which are the result of that rational value of α = 24/25 are clearly visible. In the right-hand panel however, with its much larger value of T, those lines appear to have been replaced by a single spiral, a consequence of the successive points on this spiral being a lot closer together than successive points on one of the radiating arms. It’s all in the eyes of the beholder.

Note that this anti-clockwise spiral is not the generating spiral, although the nodes are in the right order. That second spiral is clockwise and goes round nearly once for every successive pair of nodes on the first. There is a lot more of it.

Bending arms

Another trick is to bend the arms of the left-hand panel, rather than replacing them with the spiral of the right-hand panel.

Here we have the same value of T as in Figure A above, but a slightly bigger value of α = 0.803, rather than 4/5. So rather than coming back to its starting point after 5 iterations, it overshoots and generation is slightly offset.

Figure B

Here, in the left-hand panel, a slightly small value of α = 0.797, in which case the arms bend the other way. While if we go for a small value of T, as in the right-hand panel, we don’t change the structure, we just pull the spiral arms in a bit tighter. A big value does the other thing.

Figure C

Jumping ahead, things get even more interesting when we use a value close to 4/5. Spirals popping up all over the place, rather, indeed, as in the sunflower. Notice also how different things look when we toggle between points and blobs, between left and right. 

In building slightly more elaborate models, the idea of contact between nodes is important, with the spirals that are going to stand out being the ones where successive nodes are in tangential contact.

So what is going on? How did we jump from Figure B to Figure C? I offer a couple of tasters in what follows.

Taster 1

In the snap above, in which ‘G’ for growth takes the place of ‘T’ for time, a collage of material lifted from reference 2, we have some hints about what is to come – and the curious connection to Fibonacci numbers and other mathematical matters, connections which have fascinated all kinds of people for a long time.

Row A is more on how appearances can change with G (or T).


 Row B is the case when the divergence angle α is the golden angle, a simple function of the golden number, with pairs of families of spirals emerging along, as it were, the rational convergents of that angle – irrational, so we never actually get there with a rational approximation.

The golden angle is 137.51° or α = 0.381966. The golden number has the very special – unique - expansion as a continued fraction snapped above.

Row C illustrates the sensitivity of this simple model to small changes in α.

Taster 2

Another angle is to take more interest in the size of nodes and in their regular arrangements, assuming for the moment that they are all the same size and do not grow. As far as seeing spirals and lines is concerned, touching nodes is good, as illustrated at A above. We can draw plenty of straight lines on A linking regular series of nodes, and one such is shown, but those nodes will not be in contact and the eye is unlikely to see the lines without more help.

Touching in two directions gives us two families of lines or spirals: with B being a square lattice and C being a rhombic lattice. Not all that much freedom as to the angle – if one is going to maintain the two directions of contact. Whereas at D1 we have a triangular lattice where there is very little freedom at all; all one can do is rotate the whole thing, as at D2, which might not interest a mathematician, but might interest a botanist.

The Snipping Tool (from Microsoft) having rather shrunk D1 along the way to D2. But that is accidental. And fits what is left of the page.

The D lattices offer the greatest packing density, which may be relevant. 

That apart, all this becomes relevant when we move from looking at our meristem from above, as it were, as at A above, to the unrolled cylinder views at C and D. The top of the rectangle is the perimeter of the generating zone and the two sides are identified. The bottom is where the oldest nodes are to be found. The numbering is newest zero – which means that all the numbers change at every step. The small black rhombus highlights the rhombic nature of the lattice. Spirals at A – or at Figure C above – have become the rather more tractable lines at D. Taken from Figure 3 of reference 2.

Suggestion box

Given that the image can be sensitive to small changes of α, it would be good if one could set it directly, rather than using a slide bar, with which it is sometimes difficult to get the particular value one wants. I dare say if one knew GeoGebra, it would be easy enough to do this for oneself – but I don’t – and don’t care to invest the time to learn, clever product though it is.

T also, although the image is not so sensitive to small changes, so this is less important.

And more nodes. This perhaps a bit greedy for a central resource, assuming that the GeoGebra code does not actually run on the target computer, out in the sticks, as it were.

Conclusions

I dare say I would have got to this point a good deal faster, should this paper have then been available, half a century ago.

Nevertheless, it all remains an interesting and intriguing business.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/06/trolley-696.html. 

Reference 2: Phyllotaxis as geometric canalization during plant development - Christophe Godin, Christophe Golé, Stéphane Douady – 2020. Turned up by Google when looking for something else.

Reference 3: www.geogebra.org. 

Reference 4: www.geogebra.org/m/q5ysr7bv#material/feycx5yb. 

Reference 5: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/06/corn-on-cob.html. Another line of inquiry.

Trolley 712

Collected on Friday in the Kokoro Passage and returned to B&M. Not being the sturdy Wanzls used by other supermarkets, the flap of one of them was already starting to catch on the basket. A problem for the trolleyman at B&M. No pound coin recovered on this occasion.

One of the not-rocket planters still looking quite decorative, despite its exposed position in the passage.

Crossed over to the M&S food hall where I found that there were no broad beans to be had. Down to Waitrose where there were no broad beans to be had. But I did pick up 600g of cherries which did pretty well, although they did not last the afternoon out. Plus a Guardian, plus a TLS - having taken the precaution of checking the contents page to make sure that it was not too literary for me.

It being unpleasantly warm, I opted for the Screwfix underpass, taking in the house snapped above on the way. In its day it used to be completely covered in ivy and it is still doing pretty well, including a good display of wisteria earlier in the year.

Then in the passage leading to the underpass, a fine display of morning glory. The creamy white of the flowers looked really good against the bright but matt green of the leaves. Not sure how you can be bright and matt at the same time, but that is how it seemed to me. The snap above gives something of the idea, but fails to capture texture and colour of either flowers or leaves. Maybe you need to be a painter to do that. See reference 2 for further thoughts on the subject.

Home to inspect the TLS, where there were indeed some items of interest, although not to the point of actually buying anything, at least not yet.

So I could have 1,956 pages of commentary on Ovid's Metamorphoses from CUP for £360. Presumably there are enough English speaking Ovid specialists and enough university libraries to make this valiant endeavour worthwhile. The Metamorphoses themselves, if you want them, are additional. Lengthy, if not anything like 1,956 printed pages.

The CUP website is a bit tedious - not quite as whizzy as Amazon - but when I finally get there I find I can do a multi-buy and the £360 comes down to £250 for the three volumes. TLS has been a little careless. But for me, the sort of thing that might be fun to own for a bit if one came across a set at a jumble sale for a tenner or so. Odder things have happened - like getting hold of a monster edition of Churchilliana. It lasted a few years before we needed the space. But I do remember that when he was visiting East Africa some time early in the 20th century, they put a naval cruiser at his disposal for B&B and allowed him to sit on the front of railway locomotives to take pot-shots at big animals when he went up-country.

Alternatively, a history of modern Serbia, up to 1941 by Marko Attila Hoare. Which looked interesting, Serbia being a place I know more or less nothing about, except that the Serbs seem to be quite a violent lot, but at 720 pages it is never going to get read, never mind the £65 price ticket. From Hurst, whoever they are. But I do now know that Serbia more or less ceased to exist as a country, as an entity, for the several centuries of Ottoman rule. To some extent at least, the Serbia we have now is an invention of romantic nationalists of the 19th century. A bit like Putin's Russia.

Or failing that, a history of relations between the UK and Russia in the nineteenth century - relations which started in the sixteenth century - by Barbara Emerson. 560 pages for a mere £35, also from Hurst. It seems that despite our being at a safe distance from one another and both having stuff to sell, these relations were mostly bad, infested with paranoia and suspicion on both sides. So nothing much changes. Maybe I will fall for this one: 560 pages is at least vaguely plausible.

In any event, for once I am getting my money's worth from the TLS.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/06/trolley-911.html. Note filing error: really No.711.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/06/class-1-protein.html.

Reference 3: https://www.hurstpublishers.com/. Independent publisher since 1969.

Group search key: trolleysk.

Trolley 711

A pair of trolleys, different sizes, captured in the car park between the two passages down from Station Approach. Returning them to the food hall, I was reminded how awkward wheeling a pair of trolleys over uneven ground can be - the uneven meaning not very level in this case, which means the trolleys have an uncanny knack of veering off to left or right.

But I managed, without knocking anyone down.

The right one of the pair in the snap above is something of an old favourite, with its distinctively bent handle. Seems to work OK though, and it is clearly still in service.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/06/trolleys-709-and-710.html.

Group search key: trolleysk.