Magic square

Another odd dream last night. Perhaps it is to do with the humid weather we are having.

It involved a small bit of real estate, a small bit of land in China, perhaps in Hong Kong, perhaps five yards square.

We, that is to say the British, were having to leave amid some acrimony.

But somehow, we were able to clear the bit of land and dedicate it to a special sort of formal garden, probably made of slabs of stone or of patches of gravel of various sizes and colours, rather than of plants.

At some point there is a transaction with an important Chinese lady, of middle years rather than young, and probably a relative of an important politician. She is rather angry that at the end of the transaction, I just tell her to keep the change in a rather offhand and condescending way, rather than going through the proper ritual of counting out the change with her. Perhaps detecting and correcting the odd deliberate error, all this being part of the proper ritual. All this while she is sitting crosswise in the driving seat of her small car, feet on the ground. I am standing next to her. I associate now to paying off taxi drivers through their front windows.

But it all turns out alright in the end. One of our older chaps wants to stay on, rather than come back to the UK, and we manage to arrange some kind of a small pension for him. He teams up with a local lady and over the years they are able to build the garden, along the lines illustrated above. It becomes something of a tourist attraction, perhaps a place of pilgrimage.

While over the same years I come to realise the wrong I did by not counting out the change in the approved manner.

Waking, I associate to the phrases 'magic square' and 'magic garden' and think that perhaps I have dragged something real up out of the memory. But Wikipedia is not encouraging on this point: there are Chinese magic squares of great antiquity - but nothing like this one. And magic squares more generally are mathematical toys rather than gardens. And while we have a couple of Chinese puzzles, probably brought from Singapore by BH's naval uncle, I don't think that is it either, not having looked at either of them for a while. Maybe I will get some more clues in the course of the day to come.

Reference 1: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lo_Shu_Square.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magic_square.

Placey

Otherwise a visit to Polesden Lacey, the first of the year, having last been around Christmas time and noticed at reference 1.

Bright, sunny day and the car park was fairly full by the time that we got there at around 1100. To have our first two rounds with the new ticket machine. We won the second round. The lurking trusty thought that the few thousand pounds it probably cost to put the thing in would probably be recouped soon enough from the parking fees of non-member dog walkers, of whom there were plenty. While the likes of us just fed it our membership number rather than money, plastic or otherwise.

First stop the peony bed which we caught in fine form, with the blue onions full on and the crimson peonies well on the way.

General view of onions

We made full use of the seat at the back, with our modest presence deterring all but the most determined.

Particular view of a peony

The lavender and thyme garden was shut for some reason but the iris garden was open and looking fairly well. I think I like the dark blue irises better than the pale blue ones they had here, and I have lost my taste for their blue and gold ones. Just one proper rose out in the rose garden, which snapped rather better than the peony above. Clearly need to go back for more roses before too long.

Rose

Back along the herbaceous border in front of the front of the walled gardens, on the way but not at full throttle quite yet.

Crocosmia

One of the trusties had clearly had a happy afternoon making this fine heritage frame for the crocosmia. Not that I would have known that, but as luck would have it the label is legible. BH thought to support the flower stems, rather than to keep the pigeons off, but I am not so sure, with the flowers being turned up by Bing not seeming to have stalks long enough to need support of this sort.

Aerial view

Next stop a snooze on the lawn in the noonday sun, just below the house in the snap above. Click to enlarge to get the deck chairs, some of them two seaters - only of sentimental value these days. Followed by a stroll from left to right along the inside of what looks like a castle wall in the snap above but which actually a yew hedge. Protected by an anti-sheep fence on the down side. Possibly called Admiral's Walk, but I have not been able to confirm that.

Back through what turned out to be a yew tunnel, just above the yew hedge in the snap above. Something I do not remember having done before, although we must have visited the place dozens of times over the years.

Yew tunnel

Followed by a glimpse of what we thought was the back of the stage where we shall be seeing an al fresco 'Marry Wives of Windsor' at the end of next month. I am not keen on outdoor culture of this sort, finding the outdoors all to likely to be uncomfortable, wet or otherwise distracting. But we shall see.

Exit stage rear

Fungus one

Presumably not a sign of good health for the host yew. But the mobile clearly had trouble keeping the fungus attached to the host, it looking rather like a flying yellow blob, rather than a fungus.

Fungus two

Another unhealthy tree.

Wound up the proceedings by taking our picnic on the tables provided outside the lesser coffee bar, shut at the time. But the first coach had arrived in the car park: I did not think to go and find out how far they had travelled, but FIL & Co. used to do well over a hundred miles round trip for one of their day trips on a coach from Exminster.

On the tweet front, scored just the one chaffinch. Otherwise, just pigeons, crows and such.

Over the yew hedge

With the point of this last snap, taken over the long yew hedge, being that the field beyond was full of crows, but you could only see them when something disturbed them and they all flew up to come down again a few yards further on. All the grass we saw was quite long and we saw no sheep, let alone cows. Maybe it is all down for hay this year.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/12/festive-fare.html.

Kabanos

Street View

For probably more than the last year, I have been walking Ewell Village High Street four or five times a week, the Horton Clockwise being presently off. Not altogether sure why, I used to like the hedgerows and relative quiet. And this is what you had on the western side of the Bourne Hall end, with the left hand part being a dentist which did not make it to opening day. No change over the period.

Until today when we have a Polish grocer, called, I think, Polish Taste. It turned out to have the same sort of stock, but nothing like as much of it, as the Maciek of Mitcham Road in Tooting, a place which I owe a visit as their kabanos are sometimes very good. While here, they did not have proper, full size kabanos at all, although the young lady assured me that the ones snapped below involved neither cheese nor excessive spice. And she said that a sort of veal sausage was the nearest she could do to proper kabanos.

Sausages

At least it had the merit of coming in waxed paper rather than a plastic bag. But the demerit of my being very unsure now which unit in the block the shop had taken. It was only single fronted so did they divide the left hand part or did one of the two right hand shops go down? Furthermore, the young lady said she had been open a week, so it has taken me that long to notice. All very annoying.

I took some of each of sausage for luncheon, with brown bread. The veal sausage was rather like a French garlic sausage, entirely eatable but nothing like as good, to my mind, as a proper kabanos. Which was about the story with the improper kabanos. Spice levels satisfactory, but too much outside and not enough inside.

One way or another they did not serve to get the brain cells spinning, and I was unable to work out why they might be drilling test holes in the forecourt of Ewell West railway station. I did not think to ask, not did I think to ask how far down they found the chalk, something I always like to know, our being pretty much on the boundary between the chalk and the London clay.

Or consulting my geological map for once in a while and being pedantic, the station is actually on LMB, otherwise the Lambeth Group (Woolwich and Reading Beds), clay, mottled in part with beds of sand and shelly clay.  Then, to the west, we have a thin band of T, otherwise the Thanet sand formation. Then a bit further to the west, we have the start of the thick bed of UCk, otherwise upper chalk, with flints. Bearing in mind that the geological borders in this part of town are very fractal, otherwise crooked.

PS: I could also have bought Polish eggs. At least eggs in Polish egg boxes - so perhaps they really are superior Polish eggs from Polish woodland raised chickens, feeding the natural way on beech mast and acorns.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/06/not-cheese.html.

Trust

Reference 1 featured in several posts over the winter just past, as search for 'Bargh' will reveal. I got about half way through his book before wandering off somewhere else in the spring, and yesterday I picked it up again.

This morning I read, not for the first time, of some mind experiments which university researchers do with university students, often drawn from their own department. In order for these experiments to work, to cast light on otherwise dark areas of the mind, the researchers need to pretend to the students that the experiments are about one thing when actually they are about some quite different thing.

So in this particular case, one tells the students that one is interested in what they are saying about a pile of photographs set out on a table, when actually one is secretly filming the unconscious movements of their feet, movements which might well be damped or blocked if the students knew that this was the real subject of the experiment.

Which makes me a bit uneasy. No doubt one is advancing the cause of science, but one is not advancing the cause of trust. The convenient and comfortable arrangement whereby we can trust what people in positions of power and authority tell us. A comfortable and convenient arrangement which is under sustained attack. Thank you, Mr. Blair (among others).

But hopefully we can trust the ethics committees which have oversight of university research to strike the right balance here. I have no such trust in our House of Commons.

Reference 1: Before You Know It: The Unconscious Reasons We Do What We Do - John Bargh – 2017.

Cheese

Last week to London to restock on cheese.

Arrived at Epsom Station to find two ticket clerks ready and waiting behind their windows, while young people busied themselves at the nearby ticket machines. While I, despite having used the ticket clerks' bank card machine many times, still tried to stick my card in at the top, rather than in at the front, where it belongs. Not sure why I think top or why top thinking persists.

Interested to see that there appears to be new life inside the turbine hall of Battersea Power Station, idle for many months now, after the demolition and rebuilding of the four chimneys. What a waste of time and money: one recycled power station is quite enough for me and they would have done much better to just knock the thing down and start over. Although it might be argued that that might have given the foreigners paying for it all the impression that they were in charge. While fussing about with heritage gave us the impression that we were in charge.

Took my usual route to the cheese shop in Shorts Gardens, but supplemented my usual order with some more Gubbeen. Waterloo Station 3, Waterloo to Drury Lane, Covent Garden in 9m 57s.

Passed on the Crown on this occasion.

Poking around in Charing Cross Road for a replacement for my Larousse, now dropped while reaching for it while reading (Maigret) in bed rather too many times for its binding, I found and declined an older and smaller edition. Nicely rebound, it had started life many years ago as a form prize at Eton, which might have been nice to own, but at £20 a bit too dear. Particularly as it was not nearly as good as a reference book as the rather younger and larger edition which I already have.

Passed the date boxes on the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square, which looked much better in life than pictures of it had led me to expect. By far the best thing I have seen there - although, I should add that, as far as I am concerned, the standard has been pretty dreadful. A nice idea, but getting it right is clearly too much to ask of a busy Mayor of London. See reference 1.

Slightly irritated by various large pedalos buzzing about; even more of a nuisance than the regular cycles without manners.

Prompted by the Gill autobiography noticed at reference 2, I thought to take a look at his stations of the cross in Westminster Cathedral, so pulled in there. St. Martin's Street, West End to Abbey Orchard Street, Westminster in 12m 38s. Quite near the large Post Office building snapped above - so it is not just Surrey where the once proud Post Office buildings are getting recycled. And I think, quite recently, I saw a picture of a once proud Post Office building in some city in the north of Italy suffering the same fate - so it is not just us either.

The stations of the cross were larger than I remembered, at about three feet square, and also involved more lettering than I remembered, but not unreasonable given that Gill is perhaps more remembered now for his letter cutting and typefaces than for his other work. The various faces were oddly crude, and all seemed very much the same. Notwithstanding, the overall effect was good. A bit of dignified and not too pretty wall dressing which would indeed prompt reflection and good thoughts in the otherwise wandering minds of church goers.

I managed to mislay two of them at the back of the church, but the gap in the numbers prompted further search. Sadly, I still managed to miss the last two, No.13 and No.14, somewhere at the altar end. Return visit indicated. But I was able to buy a nice set of postcards of them for the modest sum of £2.50.

Along the way, I noticed that the faithful, people who had more business there than I did, were not shy about using the mobiles inside the cathedral. I associate to something in a Victorian novel about people who are in churches a lot being far more relaxed in them than the rest of us, inclined to be very hushed and respectful.

Pulled a Bullingdon for the third leg, back to Vauxhall. Slowly getting use to the complicated arrangements for cycles which we now have at some busy junctions. Howick Place, Westminster to Kennington Lane Rail Bridge, Vauxhall in 13m 31s.

Entertained on the train by a middle aged businessman, fairly well dressed and prosperous looking, conducting his family business on his mobile. Talking to his wife and then his son very much as if he were chairing some very important business meeting. Perhaps they put up with it for their generous allowances.

Home to bread - and some of the new Gubbeen. Very good they were too.

PS: about half way through the Gill autobiography now, skipping some of the more obscure, religious bits. And skipping ahead, I find the stations were done between 1914 and 1918, earning Gill honourable exemption from conscription until very near the end of the war.

Reference 1: https://www.london.gov.uk/what-we-do/fourth-plinth-past-commissions.

Reference 2: http://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/05/books-from-honiton.html.

Odd dream

Woke up to rather an odd dream this morning. Maybe it was the slug of late night whisky. Maybe Waitrose blended own brand is not the business after all.

The central element of the dream was trying to get back home from somewhere, perhaps from holiday, with rather a large amount of luggage, luggage which we seemed to be taking across country in a train of four DIY sledges; biggest at the back with me, smallest in front. The sledges seemed to move forward without any visible means of propulsion, although there was a tendency for the sledge behind to get jammed into the sledge in front, bringing the whole train to a shuddering halt.

We were getting on fairly well, and I was admiring how well the sledges were going, strung smartly out in front of us. Then the country got hilly, and the train crashed down a slope into a gully, smashing open the back sledge.

We abandon the sledges and our luggage and find ourselves on a long and tedious train journey.

Back home, upstairs, and much worrying about how we are going to recover our luggage. Will it have been looted in our absence? Will the weather have got to it? What about our second best desktop PC? But, somehow, my laptop and mobile phone had survived.

At some point a florid, full body episode of psoriasis. Thankfully, not taken from real life.

Completely fail to come up with any sensible solution to the luggage problem while asleep, although various relatively sensible options float to the surface as I am waking up.

Go downstairs to find our breakfast arrangements have been hijacked by a range of unwanted guests: family, friends and colleagues, from various eras. Two sorts of white wine have been poured out but something is very wrong with the arrangements for making tea. At which point I wake up.

It had been quite a detailed image of the breakfast room, but an image which I do not now recognise, beyond a few of the fixtures and fittings.

I associate now from the sledges to Scott and his comrades man-hauling their sledges to the South Pole in 1910-1912. Also to the large supply of bamboo canes he took to mark his outward journey. How big a bundle was it? A quick peek at the polar book shelf failed to reveal anything, but there is the thought that at a bamboo every five miles, a bundle of two hundred of them, which would have been manageable in the circumstances, would have got one a long way.

So that part of the dream probably came from my having looked at a map of Antarctica in my new-to-me atlas at some point yesterday (see reference 1). The last map before the gazetteer, with a weakness in the binding meaning that the atlas is apt to open there. A map which made Scott's journey look slightly longer than Amundsen's journey and I thought that Scott was sticking with what he knew, rather than with what might have been better. I had forgotten what a large proportion, around half, of the total distance was across the ice shelf, relatively easy terrain.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/05/bank-holiday.html.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Falcon_Scott.

Summer offensive

Private education in Surrey is still going strong, with Kingswood House just embarking on their 2018 summer offensive, seemingly an annual event. At least, it seems to have been for the last few years.

This snap being taken from the bottom of the school field (or what is left of it), from Manor Green Road, with the HQ invisible, over the hill.

PS 1: interested to read in this week's Economist about the trials and travails of the UK privatised railway industry, now largely in the hands of foreign public rail companies. Perhaps the Tories are learning the hard way why privatisation is not the panacea it was thought to be in the golden days of Leader Margaret. Perhaps there were, after all, reasons why the railways were nationalised in the first place - other than reasons of left wing political correctness.

PS 2: private education can be tricky too. It is not so many years since Parsons Mead School in Ashstead closed rather abruptly, leaving a couple of hundred or so little dears in the lurch. According to Wikipedia: 'The Vernon Educational Trust therefore took ownership of the Parson's Mead School site, along with £2.2 million in liabilities. The Vernon Educational Trust sold the site to Oracle Homes Residential Ltd in August 2007 for £16 million under section 36 of the Charities Act. There was press speculation over whether Danes Hill School would benefit from the sale'.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/05/marrons.html.

Shed roof, revisited

The cycle shed roof at Ewell West looked very well this morning, just after a sharp shower. It has come on a lot since I lasted snapped it, getting on for two months ago. See reference 1.

PS: I mentioned artefacts of image processing in the last post. And here we have another: click to enlarge and the diagonal patterning on the right hand side of the shed vanishes to reveals the planks themselves. A robust artefact, as you get the same thing on a mobile phone, or at least on my mobile phone. Is it what is known in the trade as a moiré effect or is it something else altogether?

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/04/shed-roof.html.

Rose

The snap captures something of the fine, soft crimson rose down our road. A display which we seem to get most years.

But only something: my version of the snap is not the same as the flower itself, and the blog version, when you click to enlarge, has does something odd with the edges of the flowers, making them look as if they have been dropped into the picture using some photo editor. At least as seen on my elderly HP EliteBook laptop.

Presumably some artefact of several more layers of image processing.

A Freudian story

A short story which was started by my being pointed at the story in the May issue of Scientific American at reference 1, and which was completed (at least in so far as I was concerned) by branching out to references 2 and 3.

If, as an infant, I have problems with my relationship with my mother, perhaps because she abandons me or is unreliable, I am likely to have problems with relationships – attachments in the jargon of this story – in the future. I quote from reference 1: ‘a classic American study in 1987 … found that 56 percent of us have a secure attachment style, about 20 percent are anxious and about 24 percent are avoidant’. I am also likely to have problems with my self-esteem.

By way of compensation, I am likely to become more attached to objects, to possessions. Things which I have better control over.

Another sort of compensation is winning, perhaps winning games, winning which is good for my self-esteem and by extension good for my relationships. And so, when I am winning, I am less bothered about those objects. I quote again: ‘M.B.A. students who had fewer job offers or worse grades than their peers were likelier to display such symbols of business success as expensive suits and fancy watches’.

In any event, as I become less attached to my mother, I am apt to transfer some of that attachment to a transitional object, often a soft toy or something of the sort. Perhaps just a special rag. Such transitional objects are very important to me during the transition.

This attachment to objects may flower, later in life, into full blown hoarding.
Along the way, it seems that I would regard my possessions as an extension of myself and become rather wary about letting them out of my sight, never mind out of my possession.

At the same time, I would believe that the possessions of others were extensions of those others, were imbued with something of those others. So the possessions of someone bad would be bad, would be tainted. Such beliefs are pervasive and can easily be demonstrated by experiment (some of which involve our treasured mobile phones).

A tainting which can be removed, or at least mitigated, by washing, ritual or otherwise. So much for us highly developed and sophisticated people of the west not being superstitious.

But we may have the excuse that hoarding food was a evolutionarily sound strategy. As was washing our hands before meals.

From all of which we can also deduce – or at least confirm – that people who collect Nazi memorabilia are apt to be rather unpleasant. And that baptism has a good pedigree.

PS: I believe that this sort of DIY psychology is popular in the US. Whereas here we are apt to emphasise the dangers of a little knowledge and prefer to put our trust in experts.

References

Reference 1: Why We Become So Attached to Our Belongings: Low emotional security can intensify our relationships to our belongings – Francine Russo – 2018. Available online but not open access.

Reference 2: Toys Are Me: Children's Extension of Self to Objects -  Gil Diesendruck, Reut Perez – 2015.

Reference 3: The role of attachment style and anthropomorphism in predicting hoarding behaviours in a non-clinical sample - Nick Neave, Hannah Tyson, Lynn McInnes, Colin Hamilton – 2016.

Reference 4: http://www.yourparentstoo.com/about-francine/. From where I have taken the illustration. Note the ‘buy’ button, bottom right – with all of this being very important to people who want to sell us things!

Reference 5: Cast Away – Tom Hanks – 2000. A cinema story about getting attached to an object in the absence of anything better.

Bank holiday

With reference 1 suggesting that it is well over a year since we visited a car boot sale, we thought a proper bank holiday activity this morning was to visit the giant, bank holiday, car booter at Hook Road Arena. So we were out at 0900 sharp, and arrived shortly afterwards at the end of the queue stretching around the roundabout. Bit of nifty work on the roundabout, and we were parked up within about 5 minutes.

Marker oak

Conveniently, there was a slot just by the last of the line of oaks across the arena, one of quite a lot of old oak trees dotted about the borough. Some of them heritage trees, being medieval pollards, while others get chopped down to make way for bigger roads. Although, to be fair, this last has not, to my knowledge, happened for some years now. And note the large number of cars. We were told by one saleslady that she reached her pitch around 0630, one of the last. This despite the action not being scheduled to start until 0700. At least that is what is says at reference 2.

Souvenir teaspoons

We passed on a fine collection of souvenir teaspoons. On the other hand BH fell for a variety of stuff for small people and I fell for some cooking pots and a Times Atlas.

The haul

The motivation for the cooking pots was the trouble with the pots, or rather plates, that I use to bake my bread. Trouble noticed getting on for a month ago at reference 3 and since when I have made some progress. But I am on the lookout for new pots. The three metal ones, all with loose bottoms, were knocked down to 50p as I only really wanted the largest one, at the top in the snap above. Maybe a touch small for the loaves I am making presently, but in other respects it might be a good solution and BH advises that it is still possible to buy such things new, so making up the two that I need - it being a bit wasteful of time and fuel just to bake one loaf at a time. And now, some brillo pad action later we are ready to go. Further report in due course.

The two brown plates are some sort of what I take to be cheap Spanish earthenware, rather like a glazed version of what you make flower pots out of, and nothing like as sturdy as the stuff from Taiwan.

Warning

And what I can make of the 'do nots' stuck to one of them does not encourage. I ask Bing about the company, and while plenty of people sell their stuff, they did not seem to exist. However, Google did rather better, getting me to reference 4, where I find quite a lot of eco-stuff about the merits of cooking in clay pots. Not so much about the suitability for high temperature baking. We shall see.

Last but not least we had the Atlas, a Times Atlas from 1968, what might be thought of as towards the end of the glory days of atlas production. Too much competition now from free products from the Internet. Fine products in their way, but they do not do the same job as a good atlas.

This one is a large format affair, bigger than any other book that I own - apart perhaps from the larger volumes of the OED - at 18 inches high by 12 wide and 1.5 thick, including the covers. Compared with the 15 by 11 and 1.33 of the Britannica Atlas of 1989, bought from a forerunner of the Hook Road Arena car booter in the Hook Road multi-storey car park, at the opposite end of Hook Road. Interestingly, the Times Atlas was actually printed by the Bartholomew's of reference 5, clearly the people to go to for this sort of thing.

The core of the atlas is the country maps, along the lines of that illustrated, about 100 two page spreads. Maps which show height above sea level by bands of colour, principal rivers, towns, roads and railways. General purpose maps not trying to do too much at once. Rather less colourful than the corresponding maps in the Britannica Atlas, which go in for stronger colours and shading of the mountain ranges. Will I find the Times' maps easier on the eyes?

Six two page spreads for the British Isles, including Eire. With Greater London appearing on three of them, as is proper. By way of comparison, Kenya occupies most of one page of its two page spread. But no fancy binding in the way of the atlas noticed at reference 5, and some of the maps does get lost in the gutters.

These core maps include street plans of important cities like Moscow and Istanbul and for more complicated parts of the world one gets simplified maps showing the countries, states & provinces with distinctive coloured borders. There is one such, for example, for Africa.

While at the front there is all kinds of other stuff, including the planets, the moon, ocean salinity and sea floor topography.

A good buy, taking our total of such things to five. With there being as many again smaller, more specialised affairs.

Back at the car

Having filled all our bags and starting to get a tad hot and bothered, we had no trouble finding our marker tree. And no trouble getting out of the nearby exit. Having been reminded that there is no need to leave Epsom to see the world. I don't suppose there were many countries that were not represented at Hook Road today.

PS: later, idly perusing the new atlas, I got to wondering about how the Danube, having risen not far from the headwaters of the Rhine, gets through the mountains between Belgrade and the lowlands of southern Romania. Is there some massive gorge? Time to turn to a free product from the Internet, as mentioned above, that is to say gmaps, to find Street View alive and well there. Massive, but not really a massive gorge.

Danube at gmaps 44.6644572, 21.6993821

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/07/car-booter-fame.html.

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

Reference 3: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/05/disaster-one.html.

Reference 4: http://valdearcos.com/.

Reference 5: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/05/books-from-honiton.html.

Footnote to history

Following the family story précised at reference 1, I thought to check up on the BMJ, that is to say the issue of 19th January, 1907.

A few key strokes and not many more seconds later, I find that the entire run of the BMJ, from 1840, has been digitised and this particular issue is publicly available. The obituary notice is indeed there. One can only suppose that the BMJ must be a highly regarded journal to be accorded this sort of presence on the internet.

I share two additional snippets.

This Dr. Toller also did time at Colney Hatch, the tower of which was visible from the allotment I used to work in north London, approximately at gmaps 51.604725, -0.153904. Mentioned before, but not traced today, with reference 4 not being quite the thing.

While the prize set up to honour his son is still visible. 'At King’s College, Cambridge, [Leslie Barrett Cole] was given an exhibition, and at St Thomas’s he won the Mead medal and the Toller prize. The return to Cambridge was a venture; for Addenbrooke’s Hospital was below London standards, though the university connection gave it potential. Cole did much to revitalize it, working for a day when it should be the clinical centre for the Cambridge medical school'. But this was a long time ago and there appears to have been some consolidation since with the Toller Prize becoming the Seymour Graves Toller Prize.

PS 1: maybe I am catching the family history bug!

PS 2: but I shall have to try to be less sloppy. Seymour Graves Toller is not the consolidation of a bunch of unrelated small prizes into one large prize, as I had assumed, rather the full name of the Toller in question...

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/05/toy-boat.html.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_BMJ.

Reference 3: https://www.bmj.com/archive.

Reference 4: http://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.co.uk/search?q=allotment+friern.

Week nine

Just about done now. Time to think about whether to chop it down, as I did last time. The catch being that that plant was retired, so we have no evidence to support this bit of evidence based policy making. This plant being merely a vegetative offspring. Or perhaps sibling.

Slightly alarming how different the colours of the snaps were, depending from which side I took them. This one from the left, facing the sun behind the curtain. While most of the previous snaps have been taken from the right, much earlier in the day.

Group search key: tfc.

Toy boat

Over the breakfast olive loaf, bought to bridge the gap while the new loaves come on-stream, I happened to notice that the boys and girls of Epsom College are at it again, trying once more to sail a toy boat across the Atlantic, with the previous attempt having been noticed at reference 1. Quite a large toy at 1.8m. We await developments.

In the meantime, I should like to put on record the important fact that I have a family connection to Epsom College. Not just toffs that get to go there.

So, Neville Percy, the son of one Ebenezer Toller, a doctor who was, for a time, superintendent of the Gloucester District County Lunatic Asylum, also went to Epsom College, on the strength of being the son of a doctor, a speciality of the college. My further information is that: 'Neville followed his brother Seymour ... to St Thomas’s Medical School. Unlike Seymour, he was better known as a good rugby player than as an outstanding student. He graduated in 1892 and continued at St Thomas’s for a few years before going to work for P&O ... He died in 1900, aged 31'. While Victor Conyers Ebenezer, another son, went to the college a few years previously, from 1878 to 1880. He ended up as a small cheese in the Post Office - but at least he lasted the longest, dying in 1915, while his widow died in Dun Laoghaire in 1949, the year that I was born.

According to the obituary of Ebenezer senior in the British Medical Journal of January 19, 1907, '[Ebenezer senior] was a member of a remarkable Bedfordshire family. His grandfather and three great uncles were each between 7 ft. and 8 ft. in height, and his four great-aunts are described in an old engraving as the four beauties of Bedfordshire'.

I am still checking, but I think our nearest common ancestor is one John Toller (John and James seem to have been common names in the family), born in 1727 in Bedfordshire. The county which was also home to some BH farming relatives on her mother's side.

And making a connection to the asylums of the immediate BH family and to Epsom College. Triple whammy.

Perhaps if we are very bored we will make the trip up to Epsom College and see if they will open their old books for us. I assume that a place of this sort will keep old books.

PS: olive loaf a bit chewy but not bad, the culinary solecism of using green as well as black olives aside. See reference 3.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/07/model-boats.html.

Reference 2: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/04/on-saying-cat-again.html. An entirely different sort of toy boat.

Reference 3: http://theflourstation.com/.

Reference 4: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/02/claim-to-fame.html. A previous notice, concerning the tallest of the tallies mentioned above.

Addendum to fake 30

Back in March, I noticed the fake frontage to the M&S store in the parade at Ashstead, just down the road from Epsom.

Yesterday evening, happening to glance up at the frontage to the M&S store in Epsom High Street, I realised that it was a bit odd too.

On closer inspection, I worked out that what it was that was odd. The upper part of the frontage really was old, say early twentieth century, probably just patched up a bit. But how they managed to attach the upper part of the old frontage to a relatively new building below and behind is another matter. Was it like one of those Edwardian office buildings in central London where they prop up the frontage with serious steel, strip everything else out and build the new building behind?

The rules committee ruled that I could not score a further fake for this snap. So fake 36 is going to have to wait for a bit longer.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/03/fake-30.html.

Turtle

A striking turtle from Ecuador, offered by Bing the other day. Best when clicked for enlargement. A touch cynical, BH wondered whether there had been some trickery with honey or glucose syrup. Whereas I had thought that the photographer had been holed up in some swamp for days, waiting for the moment.

From Pete Oxford of Minden Pictures, to be found both under his own name and at Minden Pictures.

Reference 1: http://peteoxford.com/.

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

Assisted dying

Part of the opposition to the legalisation of assisted dying, aka assisted suicide. From New York State, but with a presence over here. Odd that this particular lot should be so against: one might have thought that there were plenty of badly disabled people who were quite attracted to the idea of there being a long stop of this sort.

Seemingly as loud and unpleasant about its campaigning as some of the abortion flavoured pro-life groups over there. Notwithstanding their views, and those of my MP, Chris Grayling, I remain confident that we will get there in the end, maybe in time for me, should I contract some particularly unpleasant disease.

I should say in Grayling's favour that he runs a very efficient office and you get something better than form letters in return for your own.

For some reason I associate to a story from ancient Rome, a place better known for its cruelty than for its kindness, about the public suicide of a respectable old lady, graced by her family, her friends and the attendance of two visiting worthies who happened to be in town. To be found at reference 4 and noticed at reference 3.

Reference 1: http://notdeadyet.org/.

Reference 2: https://www.dignityindying.org.uk/.

Reference 3: http://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.co.uk/search?q=kaster.

Reference 4: Emotion, restraint and community in ancient Rome - Robert A. Kaster - 2005. Page 6.

Trolley 152

Captured on East Street somewhere between Kiln Lane and the turning into Ewell Village. Nowhere near a bus stop, so anyone's guess what it was doing there. Returned to the heavily depleted double stack outside the Sainsbury's front door.

A walk out of Ashburton

One of the advantages of staying just outside the village of Holne was that one could walk out of the door and be on the moor. One could enjoy the countryside and the moor without having to drive somewhere in the car.

In the past, we had achieved something of the same sort when staying in Ashburton by walking up Whistley Hill, good because one got some serious exercise, but not so good because one had to cross the busy A38 and because the lanes on the other side of the A38 had high hedges, meaning that there was little view of countryside or moor to be had. Although there was the power station noticed at reference 1.

So on this occasion we thought to do better, and examination of the map shown below revealed a hill from which we might get some good views, the hill labelled '161' above the 'RT' of Ashburton in black. So off we went.

Ashburton map

Through the town centre, past Ella's, branching right onto the Knowle Road and then right again up the hill. Somewhere along the way we came across a planning notice stuck to a telegraph pole about demolishing Kenwyn House and replacing it with seventeen ender homes for older people.

Kenwyn House

A house which had large grounds, which was surrounded by a high wall and which turned out to have quite a history, being built towards the end of the nineteenth century for one of the Berry family, big in wool in Ashburton for many years. The house did not last very long, a hotel by the 1930's and a council old peoples' home by the 1950's.

High wall

At about this point we were passed by a trim lady, no longer young, walking  briskly up the hill with her shopping from the town, presumably heading for the farm which we later passed near the top of the hill. While overhead a lazy buzzard was being hazed by an aggressive crow; perhaps this last was a nursing mother. Eventually the buzzard sloped off. Various fine views over the hills from field gates.

Trim lady's farm gate

Near the top we branched down a narrow path, roofed over with hedge, leaving the gate above behind us. Perhaps the trim lady's farm gate. Presumably walkers were not much of a problem or the notice would have been kept in a better maintenance condition. Another high buzzard, this one peacefully coexisting with some seagulls.

Security

At the top we found what was presumably the header tank for the Ashburton water supply, protected by Securitas, one of the companies which had been thought to be doing well out of public sector privatisation. Flashy web site, nicely climbing share price and 3% (or so) yield. Maybe they are not falling down the Carillion hole. I wonder how much attention they pay to this particular site?

Down the other side, past various curious cows and then a small field with bee hives. And a substantial shed for the beekeeper's gear. Was the roof made of asbestos panels? Plenty of bees flying about, but we failed to spot any beelines.

Beekeeper's shed

At the bottom of the hill, BH took the low road back to town (she had our hog's pudding to attend to) while I took the high road, described as the terrace walk on the map included above. More fine views. Then down through what certainly started life as a council estate and so home to hog's pudding. And a cake from Ella for dessert.

We had thought to visit the town museum in the afternoon, but it was unaccountably shut and we settled for Buckfast Abbey instead, where we were treated to an organ rehearsal for the concert the next day. A newly rebuilt instrument which I thought was rather good. And I liked having the pipes around one, rather than a great bank of them in front of one, as in the RFH. The Barbarossaleuchter was also looking well.

Plus the first tadpoles of the year in one of the formal ponds.

PS 1: we noticed a modest amount of haymaking in and around the town.

PS 2: I have been puffing OS maps, but we had also been using a map booklet of Dartmoor, about 60 pages worth, from AZ. The maps were essentially OS and we rather liked the booklet format, entirely suitable for short range walkers like ourselves. See reference 3.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/04/whistley-hill-power-station.html.

Reference 2: https://www.oldashburton.co.uk/the-berry-family.php. With thanks for the snap of Kenwyn House.

Reference 3: https://www.az.co.uk/dartmoor-a-z-adventure-atlas.html.

The first peace

Our first Peace Rose of the year. Two floribunda bushes at the back of the garden, in front of the screen of copper beeches.

Return visit

The weather which has been both warm and wet for the last few days has prompted a second visit of the dog vomit mold noticed at reference 1.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/04/mould.html.

An update on seeing red rectangles

Figure 1

Just presently, I have five blogs: two retired, one active and two yet to come, these last only existing so as to reserve the names. The first three blogs, of which this is the third, are large and miscellaneous collections of material, most of it nothing to do with consciousness. They are to be found at:

1. http://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.co.uk/. 1,800 posts. October 2006 to October 2012
2. http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/. 2,000 posts. October 2012 to February 2016
3. http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/. 2,100 posts. February 2016 to May 2018 (active)
4. http://psmv4.blogspot.co.uk/. Not yet active
5. http://psmv5.blogspot.co.uk/. Not yet active

But about 150 of these posts are about consciousness or something close, with one in pumpkinstrokemarrow, with just about 25 of them in psmv2 and with the rest in psmv3. We posted a summary of what seemed to be the more significant posts in March 2017 at reference 1, with the title of this last post being a nod at the book noticed at reference 2 and with this present post being an update.

The blue and grey tree structure, organised by month within year, displayed on the right on the two more recent blogs is helpful. By clicking to expand and contract, one can often find what one is looking for by post title. But this does not always work, my custom being to use short titles which seem neat at the time, but which may not be very informative later. While in the oldest blog, history is displayed by month on the left, with no expansion to post, which is not so helpful.

Fortunately, the blogs include a search feature. I have not dug very deep into this feature, but it does seem, by default, to do a Boolean ‘AND’ on the search terms you type into the box near the top left of the screen, illustrated at Figure 1 above. For example, give me posts containing the words ‘fox’ and ‘trap’. I think that the rule is whole word matches only, so that ‘trap’ would not find any of ‘entrap’, ‘traps’ and ‘trapped’, but there may well be subtleties in the rule which I have missed. In any event, I often know what I am looking for, and this sort of search often works for me.

Figure 2

However, to be on the safe side, I have also marked those posts which I think important or significant with group search keys, keys which are not otherwise used and which, to coin a phrase, return the whole group and nothing but the group. The key is to be found at the end of the post as snapped above in Figure 2. In which, some of the blue and grey structure just mentioned is also visible right, with grey possibly marking those links which have been clicked on at some point.
So far there have been four of these search keys, moving from one to the next when there has been some important shift, development or change of direction.

The four groups

Sometimes referred to as the four series, thus accounting for the form of the keys used below.

Figure 3

With Figure 3 showing the top right hand corner and an Excel worksheet and including a sketch of how such an array of cells might be used to capture geometry, coloured for comprehension. although these colours would not be part of the data, at least not in the way shown here. Strong on horizontal and vertical lines, in this echoing some of the behaviour of our eyes.

Sra

• 10 posts
• 20161231 to 20170317
• Early thoughts about organising what came to be called the local or layered workspace (LWS, in contrast to Baars’ well known global workspace theory, GWS). A structure made up of a small number of layers, each consisting of a large array of cells, after the fashion of an Excel worksheet, illustrated at Figure 3. Soft centred patterns. Layers, layer objects and column objects. Seeing rectangles. Seeing red.

Srb

• 6 posts
• 20170328 to 20170428
• A regrouping, having bumped into various technical problems. Exploring various ways of coding data on our two-dimensional arrays of real valued cells. The use of layers to code up complex scenes – like a second world war battleship at sea. Parts of objects and their labels.

Src

• 9 posts
• 20170521 to 20170802
• Layers with velocity, to accommodate a steady movement across or of the visual field. Scenes, takes and frames. Background, foreground and other objects. Using high and low valued cells to define parts and their shapes instead of soft centred patterns. Column objects, composite objects and sequence objects. Sinks and sources. Statements of rules.

Srd

• 11 posts (including this one)
• 20170904 to 20180524
• The move from the Excel workbook flavoured LWS-W to the neuron flavoured LWS-N. Triangulations of surfaces and shapes. Texture nets and shape nets. Coding music.

Figure 4

With Figure 4 illustrating LWS-N and providing a bit of contrast with Figure 3. The nodes are tightly clustered groups of neurons, so not actually neurons, but a good deal closer than the cells of Figure 3.

Some key points

One part of this work is about trying to draw meaning out of the void, to update the first words of the book of Genesis, where the Lord was just starting work on an earth which was at that point just welter and waste and when there was darkness over the deep. In the sense that our LWS is self contained and by definition, it cannot draw its meaning from elsewhere, from anywhere else, it has to have meaning of itself. How do we do that, starting from an empty data store? Thinking of LWS-N in particular, how do we organise the linkages of neurons to code up for ‘War and Peace’, the elephant in the room – or even something as apparently straightforward as a patch of red?

Another part is thinking about how that content, that meaning might be projected from the active, physical matter of the brain into the metaphysical matter of our subject experience.

Yet another part is putting LWS in context. How it fits into the brain and body. Into the evolution and development of same. Into all the work on consciousness and unconsciousness done elsewhere, by others.

Listings

The eleven posts of the ‘srd’ series

http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/09/sensing-spheroids.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/09/coding-for-colour.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/09/geometry-and-activation-in-world-of.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/09/scoring-for-music.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/10/on-taxonomy-of-consciousness.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/11/a-dogs-life-reprised.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/01/an-introduction-to-lws-n.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/03/more-animal-game.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/03/descriptors.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/05/a-modest-change-to-layer-objects-of-lws.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/05/an-update-on-seeing-red-rectangles.html

The nine posts of the ‘src’ series

http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/recap-on-our-data-structure.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/in-praise-of-homunculus.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/06/on-scenes.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/06/on-elements.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/07/binding.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/07/rules-episode-one.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/07/rules-episode-two.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/07/rules-supplemental.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/08/occlusion.html

The six posts of the ‘srb’ series

http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/03/a-new-start.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/04/shapes-not-numbers.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/04/its-chips-life.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/04/more-on-modes.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/04/a-ship-of-line.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/04/on-parts-and-properties.html

The ten posts of the ‘sra’ series

http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/12/from-grids-to-objects.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/01/expressions-and-their-orders.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/01/lines.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/01/layers-and-columns.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/02/restatement-of-hypothesis.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/03/on-seeing-rectangles.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/03/soft-centred-patterns.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/03/activation-revisited.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/03/seeing-red-rectangles.html
http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/03/coding-for-red-and-other-stuff.html

References

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/03/seeing-red-rectangles.html.

Reference 2: Seeing Red: A Study in Consciousness - Nicholas Humphrey - 2009.

Reference 3: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/01/an-introduction-to-lws-n.html. Perhaps as good place as any to start. The seventh post in the ‘srd’ series.

Group search key: srd.

Sheepstor

Paid a further visit to the Burrator Arms again last week, the place in Dousland, up a bit from Plymouth, with the last visit being noticed at reference 1, the place itself at reference 2.

Art

I thought that the art illustrated above was well above average for pub art. With one novel feature being the framing surround in silver, all part of the design.

Dessert pie

I stuck with pie for main course, entirely satisfactory. And continued with pie for dessert, in the form of a lemon meringue pie, something I have always been fond of, but which does not appear that often these days. Also entirely satisfactory, with BH taking most of the clotted cream to the right of the pie. I might say in passing that this establishment had a good selection of desserts, much better than usually gets in Epsom, or indeed, in London proper. All in all an excellent establishment, very fit for our particular purpose.

Next stop Meavy and Sheepstor to inspect the heritage.

Gmaps

The gmaps offering for the places in question.

OS

With gmaps being put to shame by the proper map from OS. But to be fair to gmaps, they are doing the world, for most of which maps of the OS standard are not available, not practical even.

Maps notwithstanding, we managed to get slightly lost in Meavy, which meant that we passed the ancient public house, the ancient oak tree and the replica of Drake's drum twice before we got ourselves onto the road for the Marchant's Cross.

The cross

One can still see the cross carved at the crossing on the other side, but this snap came out better in other ways. Various theories about the history of the cross being given at reference 3.

Onto Sheepstor, drawn there by talk of there being a bull ring, with these rings being fairly common in this part of Devon, reflecting its former importance in the cattle trade. In the event, nothing like as grand as that shown at reference 4, although I did not like to take a picture as I was being shown around by the owner of the garden in which is was to be found, none too pleased to be bothered by a tourist. He thought that he had paid his taxes, as it were, by doing the open garden thing a week later. But he did soften slightly when I noticed his fine cordon apples and was able to tell him about my father's considerable doings in that area.

The church turned out to be interesting, a rather grand affair for what was now little more than a hamlet, nestling in a hollow in the moors.

Monolith

And while at Ashburton, the principal church managed one monolithic column to the nave, here they all were, presumably reflecting the fact that Sheepstor was closer to one of the relevant quarries.

The screen

There was also an elaborate wooden rood screen from Victorian times, perhaps the gift of the Brooke family, sometime White Rajahs of Sarawak. Perhaps the replica of something torn down by the puritans of Plymouth, possibly the Plymouth Brethren, known to take a tough line with anything that smacks or smells of popery.

Decoration

Homely pew end decoration for a recent wedding. Decoration which ought to have scored as a fake as, while the heart shaped twig was a twig, the leaves wrapped around it were plastic. But the overall effect was fine - even though it seemed unlikely that the bride had anything to do with the church, beyond thinking that it would make a good setting, which no doubt it did.

Lamerton

Despite the claim in the book noticed at reference 6 that there are lots of memorials to those who fell at Waterloo to be found in English churches and graveyards, I have yet to find one. I failed here too, but did come across this new to me certificate from the second world war.

Rajah

Part of the memorial to the White Rajahs mentioned above.

Cordon

The steep steps down from the church to the garden which contains the bull ring. With one of the cordon apples, mentioned above, to be seen at the bottom.

Coffin stand

The church also ran to the first real lych gate that I recall seeing, that is to say a lych gate complete with a proper stone stand on which to rest the coffin while waiting for the proper moment to enter the church. Sometimes also used for the service itself, going straight from stone on the ground to hole in the ground, not bothering with the church bit at all.

With lych, according to Wikipedia, being a corruption of the Middle High German word for a corpse.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/10/fine-dining.html.

Reference 2: http://theburratorinn.com/.

Reference 3: http://www.dartmoor-crosses.org.uk/marchant's.htm.

Reference 4: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2017/07/brading-ring.html.

Reference 5: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Rajahs.

Reference 6: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2018/03/waterloo.html.