The last day of March and oodles of assessed practicals going on at school. No reported sightings of the art students who were all tucked away being creative. Occassional sightings of the theatre studies students gambolling around in costume seeking an audience for their drama pieces. A bit of hasty research needed into histograms (disappointingly, not a random singing historian but some sort of graph thing) and frequency density (sums, grimsters). And then a group of Year 12 scientists trampling about in the undergrowth peering at some ivy, under the watchful eye of a nearby biology teacher who explained 'assessed practical' with a glint in her eye that suggested she had made the whole thing up for a laugh. The scientists looked very intent though.
Exciting afternoon as the ever-cheerful BTEC PE crowd were in and they insisted on singing to me (though as we were in a library they did ask nicely first).
Bought some more chocolate covered coffee beans on the way home as my husband had discovered the first lot and scoffed them. So much for my carrot at the end of the tunnel.
Tomorrow it will be only two weeks until we set off. Woo-hoo!
Thursday 31 March 2011
Wednesday 30 March 2011
Day 22: Small things to be cheerful about
It's raining, there are still more than two weeks to go until the Easter holidays, exams are on the horizon, there's a woman on TV boiling half a pigs head to make a traditional English meal, there's a sheep with a poorly toe and I've had no chocolate for AGES. Not even a chocolate button.
Unleash the standby list of emergency things-to-cheer-you-up:
#1 ICanHasCheezburger.com
#2 getting someone else to do the washing up
#3 having a cup of tea and a nice sit down
#4 homemade treacle tart
#5 wearing earrings with parrots on.
That'll do for today.
No! hang on, surprise late entry from pigs-head-boiling lady:
"Anyone who thinks they've never eaten eyeballs is just pain kidding themselves."
Consider yourself unkid.
Unleash the standby list of emergency things-to-cheer-you-up:
#1 ICanHasCheezburger.com
#2 getting someone else to do the washing up
#3 having a cup of tea and a nice sit down
#4 homemade treacle tart
#5 wearing earrings with parrots on.
That'll do for today.
No! hang on, surprise late entry from pigs-head-boiling lady:
"Anyone who thinks they've never eaten eyeballs is just pain kidding themselves."
Consider yourself unkid.
Tuesday 29 March 2011
Day 21:Get thee behind me, chocolate pudding
Another fun-packed Tuesday, but this time with the added frisson of summer exam timetables. Cue some white faces and hiding under desks.
I was greatly cheered by the convening of the Stortford Library Massive in the evening, before the other schools break up and we are scattered 'cross the face of the globe. It was all very therapeutic, so much so that when the inevitable chocolate pud turned up I was quite able to fend it off without crying or anything.
I was greatly cheered by the convening of the Stortford Library Massive in the evening, before the other schools break up and we are scattered 'cross the face of the globe. It was all very therapeutic, so much so that when the inevitable chocolate pud turned up I was quite able to fend it off without crying or anything.
Monday 28 March 2011
Day 20:another glorious failure
Ho hum, pigs bum, as they say in Switzerland and Louise Rennison books. Another Monday, another epic failure at the rural riddle on Radio Norfolk (although my second guess was otter, which it turned out to be). (Second guesses don't count though).
On the other hand, I've still had no chocolate - hurray - and I've just made a tremendous macaroni cheese - double hurray.
On that small triumph, I shall retire.
On the other hand, I've still had no chocolate - hurray - and I've just made a tremendous macaroni cheese - double hurray.
On that small triumph, I shall retire.
Sunday 27 March 2011
Day 19:On the impossibility of conveying snorts by telegram
Not only was today sunny and lovely, but it was also productive.
Good things: filled in census form online with nary a hiccup (possibly because at least half the population were still asleep having forgotten to change their clocks, or because like me, they harboured suspicions that the site wouldn't work), did lots of gardening, had a whiffle around Hatfield Forest, had an ice cream, had a lovely Skype phone chat with my friend Yolande
Not altogether great things: Gremlins in the Skype system meant that Yolande sometimes sounded like an alien but at least we understood each other
Just as I was being amused by the incident in 'The Ascent of Rum Doodle' in which the climbing party are faced with 30,000 porters instead of the 3,000 they wanted (explanation: 'the Yogistani word for three was identical with the word for thirty, except for a sort of snort in the middle. It was, of course, impossible to convey this snort by telegram, and the Bang had chosen to interpret the message as ordering 30,000 porters.) it seems I was also making a foolish error. Even as I type, Mr Halford is cheerfully applying for my entry into 'the Bishop's Stortford 10', which I had assumed was a 10k run. It turns out it is 10 miles. TEN MILES. No wonder he was surprised I agreed to it.
Good things: filled in census form online with nary a hiccup (possibly because at least half the population were still asleep having forgotten to change their clocks, or because like me, they harboured suspicions that the site wouldn't work), did lots of gardening, had a whiffle around Hatfield Forest, had an ice cream, had a lovely Skype phone chat with my friend Yolande
Not altogether great things: Gremlins in the Skype system meant that Yolande sometimes sounded like an alien but at least we understood each other
Just as I was being amused by the incident in 'The Ascent of Rum Doodle' in which the climbing party are faced with 30,000 porters instead of the 3,000 they wanted (explanation: 'the Yogistani word for three was identical with the word for thirty, except for a sort of snort in the middle. It was, of course, impossible to convey this snort by telegram, and the Bang had chosen to interpret the message as ordering 30,000 porters.) it seems I was also making a foolish error. Even as I type, Mr Halford is cheerfully applying for my entry into 'the Bishop's Stortford 10', which I had assumed was a 10k run. It turns out it is 10 miles. TEN MILES. No wonder he was surprised I agreed to it.
Day 18: Snoozing about
Snoozy day today after wild and taxing night out last night (two J2O's, a ginger ale and use of chopsticks).
This chocolate-free diet is severely depleting my energy levels.
I summoned up enough oomph to trot down to the library where I returned my library book and managed to break two of their lovely shiny new issuing machine things. This never happened when there were actual humans to help you.
I also read, and recommend 'Around The World In A Bad Mood' by Rene Foss. I'm tempted to get a copy to take with me to Nepal. Or maybe 8 copies to give to stressed out passengers.
I only found out last night about the spending cut protests taking place in London on Saturday, otherwise I'm sure I'd have been there. Watching the news tonight there were the inevitable sad scenes of trouble makers trying to cause mayhem and destruction, apparently wanting to turn Trafalgar Square into 'another Pearl Square' a la the protests in Bahrain. Hmmm, except that in Bahrain they are fighting for democracy and the right to have a say in who is running their country and how. We do have that right here and if we had all voted we may have got a Government that implemented the necessary cuts in a less controversial and painful way. Still, I'm sure the protesters were first in the queue when the polling stations opened. Weren't they?
This chocolate-free diet is severely depleting my energy levels.
I summoned up enough oomph to trot down to the library where I returned my library book and managed to break two of their lovely shiny new issuing machine things. This never happened when there were actual humans to help you.
I also read, and recommend 'Around The World In A Bad Mood' by Rene Foss. I'm tempted to get a copy to take with me to Nepal. Or maybe 8 copies to give to stressed out passengers.
I only found out last night about the spending cut protests taking place in London on Saturday, otherwise I'm sure I'd have been there. Watching the news tonight there were the inevitable sad scenes of trouble makers trying to cause mayhem and destruction, apparently wanting to turn Trafalgar Square into 'another Pearl Square' a la the protests in Bahrain. Hmmm, except that in Bahrain they are fighting for democracy and the right to have a say in who is running their country and how. We do have that right here and if we had all voted we may have got a Government that implemented the necessary cuts in a less controversial and painful way. Still, I'm sure the protesters were first in the queue when the polling stations opened. Weren't they?
Saturday 26 March 2011
Day 17: Thank Crunchie it's Friday
Except, of course, Crunchies are off the menu.
Had a very sophisticated evening meeting friends in a pub in Leicester square and then trotted into Chinatown for some food. There were some cross stroppy moments about menus with Shark Fin soup on the menu (and, more weirdly, fried shark fin with scrambled egg) and some wonderful protest ordering featuring grilled tiger and side dishes of panda.
I also finished reading 'The Slap' by Christos Tsiolkas, which was completely brilliant (but full of sex and swearing so definitely not suitable for younger readers).
Next up, my lucky dip find in the public library this week - Around The World In A Bad Mood by Rene Foss.
Had a very sophisticated evening meeting friends in a pub in Leicester square and then trotted into Chinatown for some food. There were some cross stroppy moments about menus with Shark Fin soup on the menu (and, more weirdly, fried shark fin with scrambled egg) and some wonderful protest ordering featuring grilled tiger and side dishes of panda.
I also finished reading 'The Slap' by Christos Tsiolkas, which was completely brilliant (but full of sex and swearing so definitely not suitable for younger readers).
Next up, my lucky dip find in the public library this week - Around The World In A Bad Mood by Rene Foss.
Thursday 24 March 2011
Day 16: spoke too soon
Uffff, oh how I repent me of my optimism yesterday, for I nearly came a cropper tonight at a retirement party for the fabulous Mrs Jacobs.
Mrs Jacobs has put many a young tyke on to the path of fame and fortune, or at least job satisfaction, in her role as careers advisor and general wisdom dispenser.
Anyhoo, I was bobbling about in a cloud of loveliness and bonhomie, reminiscing about the careers advice of my own youth (in some sort of random cupboard at school: "have you any idea what you want to be?" "A librarian." "Whatever for?") when I found it was time to tuck into the puddings and found myself filling a bowl with date cake, raspberry pavlova and a chocolate rice krispie thingy. I was almost back to my seat before I remembered, with some shame and horror, that I wasn't allowed the chocolate rice krispie thingy.
Ideally I would have then been rescued by someone, probably Professor Brian Cox OBE given his current track record of turning up at disastrous points in my life (1997 general election night*, quests to understand quarks, attempts to give up chocolate etc), flinging the door open, hollering 'nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo' in a catastrophe-averted-but-only-just-hollywood-stylee manner and consigning the evil chocolate krispie to a maybe-the-size-of-an-atom-or-maybe-the-size-of-the-universe black hole.
Sadly that didn't happen. I tried to give the evil krispie to the person next to me, who tried the same thing with the person next to her and it did a half-orbit of the table, as no one would claim responsibility for it, and then it was hidden under a napkin.
How long until this torment is over?
4 weeks you say?
Knickers.
*I can never hear 'Things Can Only Get Better' without suddenly remembering, as I did on election night, that I needed to buy Sharon a new fish slice. I melted hers by accident on a hot pan. Sorry Sharon.
Mrs Jacobs has put many a young tyke on to the path of fame and fortune, or at least job satisfaction, in her role as careers advisor and general wisdom dispenser.
Anyhoo, I was bobbling about in a cloud of loveliness and bonhomie, reminiscing about the careers advice of my own youth (in some sort of random cupboard at school: "have you any idea what you want to be?" "A librarian." "Whatever for?") when I found it was time to tuck into the puddings and found myself filling a bowl with date cake, raspberry pavlova and a chocolate rice krispie thingy. I was almost back to my seat before I remembered, with some shame and horror, that I wasn't allowed the chocolate rice krispie thingy.
Ideally I would have then been rescued by someone, probably Professor Brian Cox OBE given his current track record of turning up at disastrous points in my life (1997 general election night*, quests to understand quarks, attempts to give up chocolate etc), flinging the door open, hollering 'nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo' in a catastrophe-averted-but-only-just-hollywood-stylee manner and consigning the evil chocolate krispie to a maybe-the-size-of-an-atom-or-maybe-the-size-of-the-universe black hole.
Sadly that didn't happen. I tried to give the evil krispie to the person next to me, who tried the same thing with the person next to her and it did a half-orbit of the table, as no one would claim responsibility for it, and then it was hidden under a napkin.
How long until this torment is over?
4 weeks you say?
Knickers.
*I can never hear 'Things Can Only Get Better' without suddenly remembering, as I did on election night, that I needed to buy Sharon a new fish slice. I melted hers by accident on a hot pan. Sorry Sharon.
Wednesday 23 March 2011
Day 15: Two weeks in - maybe I'm not completely rubbish at this
Hugemungous thanks to everyone for their moral support and for the steadily growing collection of goodies for me to take to Nepal.
By way of celebration of having survived the first two weeks and still being reasonably sane I thought I'd salute the king of chocolate-related restraint - Mr Charlie Bucket.
'Walking to school in the mornings, Charlie could see great slabs of chocolate piled up high in the shop windows, and he would stop and stare and press his nose against the glass, his mouth watering like mad. Many times a day, he would see other children taking bars of creamy chocolate out of their pockets and munching them greedily, and that, of course, was pure torture.
Only once a year, on his birthday, did Charlie Bucket ever get to taste a bit of chocolate. The whole family saved up their money for that special occasion, and when the great day arrived, Charlie was always presented with one small chocolate bar to eat all by himself. And each time he received it, on those marvellous birthday mornings, he would place it carefully in a small wooden box that he owned, and treasure it as though it were a bar of solid gold; and for the next few days, he would allow himself only to look at it, but never to touch it. Then at last, when he could stand it no longer, he would peel back a tiny bit of the paper wrapping at one corner to expose a tiny bit of chocolate, and then he would take a tiny nibble - just enough to allow the lovely sweet taste to spread out slowly over his tongue. The next day, he would take another tiny nibble, and so on, and so on. And in this way, Charlie would make his sixpenny bar of birthday chocolate last him for more than a month.'
p17-18 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl.
By way of celebration of having survived the first two weeks and still being reasonably sane I thought I'd salute the king of chocolate-related restraint - Mr Charlie Bucket.
'Walking to school in the mornings, Charlie could see great slabs of chocolate piled up high in the shop windows, and he would stop and stare and press his nose against the glass, his mouth watering like mad. Many times a day, he would see other children taking bars of creamy chocolate out of their pockets and munching them greedily, and that, of course, was pure torture.
Only once a year, on his birthday, did Charlie Bucket ever get to taste a bit of chocolate. The whole family saved up their money for that special occasion, and when the great day arrived, Charlie was always presented with one small chocolate bar to eat all by himself. And each time he received it, on those marvellous birthday mornings, he would place it carefully in a small wooden box that he owned, and treasure it as though it were a bar of solid gold; and for the next few days, he would allow himself only to look at it, but never to touch it. Then at last, when he could stand it no longer, he would peel back a tiny bit of the paper wrapping at one corner to expose a tiny bit of chocolate, and then he would take a tiny nibble - just enough to allow the lovely sweet taste to spread out slowly over his tongue. The next day, he would take another tiny nibble, and so on, and so on. And in this way, Charlie would make his sixpenny bar of birthday chocolate last him for more than a month.'
p17-18 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl.
Tuesday 22 March 2011
Day 14: Penguins for Peace (and Snail Racing for Fun and Profit)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DoHcO5GqsLk&feature=player_embedded
Have I already told you about the penguin on a plane? As discovered and shared by my lovely friend Yolande. If not, see above link. It is indeed very soothing and I'm thinking of having an emergency photo-of-penguin-on-a-stick that I can deploy in a chocolate deprived meltdown.
Other things that are cheering me up are a) Wonders of the Universe is on and Brian is up a mountain somewhere in a pair of natty mittens talking about bending time until it stops. I think someone did that during period 4 today. It went on for at least three normal human hours. I don't quite know how this was achieved as I'm not really listening properly but it sounds more complicated than the offside rule. b) I'm contemplating starting an annual snail race at school (Congham rules).
What? there's just been a bit about black holes which may be 'smaller than an atom or a billion times bigger than our sun'. Bit vague isn't it? Has Brian just worked out he lost everyone in the first 5 minutes of the programme?
It gets better, black holes are some of the 'most violent places' in the universe. Now that I can sympathise with.
c) My requested books arrived at the library. Hooray!
Have I already told you about the penguin on a plane? As discovered and shared by my lovely friend Yolande. If not, see above link. It is indeed very soothing and I'm thinking of having an emergency photo-of-penguin-on-a-stick that I can deploy in a chocolate deprived meltdown.
Other things that are cheering me up are a) Wonders of the Universe is on and Brian is up a mountain somewhere in a pair of natty mittens talking about bending time until it stops. I think someone did that during period 4 today. It went on for at least three normal human hours. I don't quite know how this was achieved as I'm not really listening properly but it sounds more complicated than the offside rule. b) I'm contemplating starting an annual snail race at school (Congham rules).
What? there's just been a bit about black holes which may be 'smaller than an atom or a billion times bigger than our sun'. Bit vague isn't it? Has Brian just worked out he lost everyone in the first 5 minutes of the programme?
It gets better, black holes are some of the 'most violent places' in the universe. Now that I can sympathise with.
c) My requested books arrived at the library. Hooray!
Monday 21 March 2011
Day 13: A tiny bit fed up now
The novelty of the no-chocolate regime is wearing off now. I need some worthy cause to take my mind off my cravings.
Enter the World Snail Racing contest as held annually in Norfolk. It needs every vote possible to triumph in the Where Else But England favourite English events contest.
World Snail Racing needs you - go to http://whereelsebutengland.co.uk/ scroll down a bit and vote for Snail Racing. Be quick about it though, voting closes tomorrow.
Thank you!
Enter the World Snail Racing contest as held annually in Norfolk. It needs every vote possible to triumph in the Where Else But England favourite English events contest.
World Snail Racing needs you - go to http://whereelsebutengland.co.uk/ scroll down a bit and vote for Snail Racing. Be quick about it though, voting closes tomorrow.
Thank you!
Sunday 20 March 2011
Day 12: a bit of a cheat, sort of
Hurray and hurrah it was my birthday today so I had an temporary exemption for a few minutes and had a piece of chocolate cake. And it was fab. So there. And it doesn't even count because it's my birthday.
Saturday 19 March 2011
Day 11: No chocolate necessary
I spent the whole of today Colchester zoo, which was excellent. Nobody needs chocolate when there are penguins and condors and pygmy hippos and sun bears to look at.
Friday 18 March 2011
Day Ten: Rubbish, with outbreaks of kindness
On balance, today was rubbish. Probably because it was a Friday and the expectation is that Fridays are fab.
It started off well though as a lovely person donated some fab books to the school library. Thank you anonymous book giver!
After that, nearly everything I did went wrong in one way or another. The cake sale I baked for was postponed, and I couldn't even cheer myself up by eating them as they were full of chocolate. Pants, pants, pants.
Luckily I was rescued by a level headed and lovely Year 12 student, who would have none of this wallowing in self-pity lark and cheered me up no end before offering to purchase one of my unwanted cakes. She then surpassed herself by turning up with not only her purse, but some friends also and, very polite girls that they are, they also bought some. And then so did the boys. And thus the illegal black market cake sale was begun. (Unless you are reading this from school, in which case it wasn't).
But hurray! there is now enough money for our first educational poster - bring on the life cycle of the frog!
It started off well though as a lovely person donated some fab books to the school library. Thank you anonymous book giver!
After that, nearly everything I did went wrong in one way or another. The cake sale I baked for was postponed, and I couldn't even cheer myself up by eating them as they were full of chocolate. Pants, pants, pants.
Luckily I was rescued by a level headed and lovely Year 12 student, who would have none of this wallowing in self-pity lark and cheered me up no end before offering to purchase one of my unwanted cakes. She then surpassed herself by turning up with not only her purse, but some friends also and, very polite girls that they are, they also bought some. And then so did the boys. And thus the illegal black market cake sale was begun. (Unless you are reading this from school, in which case it wasn't).
But hurray! there is now enough money for our first educational poster - bring on the life cycle of the frog!
Thursday 17 March 2011
Day Nine: CSI Chocolate cake
Tomorrow is bumper cake sale day at school so I thought I'd set myself the challenge of making some chocolate cakes without being able to scoff half the mixture before it got in the oven. The first bit went reasonably well, though if anyone knows of a way of sifting cocoa without generating clouds of the stuff I'd like to know about it. Surely it's cheating to use the back of a spoon? The kitchen now looks like the Scene Of Crime Officers have been round taking fingerprints.
The cakes had the decency to rise a bit and actually look like cakes so I made a start on the icing. Step one: beat butter together with a spoonful of milk. This. Does. Not. Work. After a while I just got cross and splattered with milk so gave up and started sifting the icing sugar and cocoa in. Cue repeat of SOCO fingerprinting fiasco with added dreadful temptation just to stick my face in the bowl.
Resisted all such tempation and, having smothered cakes in the icing, set about artistically decorating them with cherries and marshmallows.
Looked at cakes, realised they didn't appear very artisitic after all and did the old 'if in doubt drizzle melted chocolate over' trick.
Got about 30 gallons of melted chocolate over my hands and had to clamp my jaws shut and plunge my hands into the washing up water before disaster struck.
Next time, I'll make non-chocolatey ones.
The cakes had the decency to rise a bit and actually look like cakes so I made a start on the icing. Step one: beat butter together with a spoonful of milk. This. Does. Not. Work. After a while I just got cross and splattered with milk so gave up and started sifting the icing sugar and cocoa in. Cue repeat of SOCO fingerprinting fiasco with added dreadful temptation just to stick my face in the bowl.
Resisted all such tempation and, having smothered cakes in the icing, set about artistically decorating them with cherries and marshmallows.
Looked at cakes, realised they didn't appear very artisitic after all and did the old 'if in doubt drizzle melted chocolate over' trick.
Got about 30 gallons of melted chocolate over my hands and had to clamp my jaws shut and plunge my hands into the washing up water before disaster struck.
Next time, I'll make non-chocolatey ones.
Wednesday 16 March 2011
Day Eight: foggy, but not foggy enough...
...I still saw the chocolate covered coffee beans in Julian Graves, and found myself standing at the till with them. Now they are sitting in the kitchen making me feel guilty. I need an excuse for having bought them.
Or maybe I could just hide them. No one need know.
Yes, I'll hide them, and if they are found, I'll say they are a surprise present for someone.
Me probably.
I even got past Muffin Break unscathed, though I did pause by the chocolate mud cake and inhaled so hard I nearly fainted.
Or maybe I could just hide them. No one need know.
Yes, I'll hide them, and if they are found, I'll say they are a surprise present for someone.
Me probably.
I even got past Muffin Break unscathed, though I did pause by the chocolate mud cake and inhaled so hard I nearly fainted.
Tuesday 15 March 2011
Day Seven: one week down
Well, it's not going too badly, if you don't count the fact that I've discovered eight new grey hairs this week, wished two people a nice weekend this morning (got a bit of a shock when I found it wasn't Friday yet) and almost ended up hiding under a desk yesterday when I was outwitted by our 400 year old photocopier.
On the plus side I found a terrific source of educational posters today and am really excited about buying some to take to Nepal. Also, I've had a cup of tea, and that's made everything better.
On the plus side I found a terrific source of educational posters today and am really excited about buying some to take to Nepal. Also, I've had a cup of tea, and that's made everything better.
Monday 14 March 2011
Day Six: A ripple in the probability of the jelly
A highly successful day and no mistake.
1. I have still not eaten any chocolate, hurrah!
2. I had a fab phone call with Dr Metters of Nepal Schools Aid fame.
3. I managed to text and answer to Radio Norfolk's 'Rural Riddle', even though I didn't hear what it was (too busy on the phone to Brian).
4. I confirmed my theory that particle physics is the new poetry.
5. I have discovered that Professors are getting younger.
I have just returned from another lecture on the Large Hadron Collider. That's 2 (two) in less than a week. This was given by Professor Ben Allanach of the University of Cambridge, who looked about 22 years old or something (see 5. above) and, much like Professor Brian Cox was warm, witty and tremendously excited about the whole LHC thing. He lost me after the first 30 seconds or so, but there was definitely a mention of trifle.
Much like poetry, I haven't got a clue what most of physics is about, but there are some excellent words (anti bottom quarks anyone?), and I like all the creativity and imagination (see 4. above). There do seem to be quite a lot of invisible things, that might or might not be there. And possibly some dark matter that isn't as dark as other dark matter (beige? diet dark matter?).
Also, I avoided a plate of highly enticing bourbon biscuits (see 1. above). A triumph.
1. I have still not eaten any chocolate, hurrah!
2. I had a fab phone call with Dr Metters of Nepal Schools Aid fame.
3. I managed to text and answer to Radio Norfolk's 'Rural Riddle', even though I didn't hear what it was (too busy on the phone to Brian).
4. I confirmed my theory that particle physics is the new poetry.
5. I have discovered that Professors are getting younger.
I have just returned from another lecture on the Large Hadron Collider. That's 2 (two) in less than a week. This was given by Professor Ben Allanach of the University of Cambridge, who looked about 22 years old or something (see 5. above) and, much like Professor Brian Cox was warm, witty and tremendously excited about the whole LHC thing. He lost me after the first 30 seconds or so, but there was definitely a mention of trifle.
Much like poetry, I haven't got a clue what most of physics is about, but there are some excellent words (anti bottom quarks anyone?), and I like all the creativity and imagination (see 4. above). There do seem to be quite a lot of invisible things, that might or might not be there. And possibly some dark matter that isn't as dark as other dark matter (beige? diet dark matter?).
Also, I avoided a plate of highly enticing bourbon biscuits (see 1. above). A triumph.
Sunday 13 March 2011
Day Four: Spring Has Sprung
Lovely sunny day for most of the UK, except where it was snowing.
I seem to be better at giving up chocolate than remembering to update my blog. I blame the DI Frost books, too gripping to put down for long.
So, the tactic for today was to escape the jar of Nutella, which I could hear calling plaintively from the kitchen cupboard. As it was so nice outside I went into town. I started off well, taking some of my World Book Night books to the YMCA but then I ended up buying a frock. And then a load of other stuff which was all heavy and needed to be taken home. So I did that and then somehow ended up back in town doing the same thing all over again.
I hadn't realised giving up chocolate would be so expensive.
The third excursion of the day was an evening safari in Hatfield Forest where there were deer, bats, and birds aplenty. And mercifully the shop and cafe were shut.
I seem to be better at giving up chocolate than remembering to update my blog. I blame the DI Frost books, too gripping to put down for long.
So, the tactic for today was to escape the jar of Nutella, which I could hear calling plaintively from the kitchen cupboard. As it was so nice outside I went into town. I started off well, taking some of my World Book Night books to the YMCA but then I ended up buying a frock. And then a load of other stuff which was all heavy and needed to be taken home. So I did that and then somehow ended up back in town doing the same thing all over again.
I hadn't realised giving up chocolate would be so expensive.
The third excursion of the day was an evening safari in Hatfield Forest where there were deer, bats, and birds aplenty. And mercifully the shop and cafe were shut.
Friday 11 March 2011
Day Three: Earthquakes and Tsunamis
Got up. Put the news on. Discovered it wasn't a day to be whinging about chocolate.
Day Two: Prof Brian Cox OBE has scrambled my brain.
And disappointed me greatly to boot.
I thought I'd try distraction techniques to stop thinking about chocolate and, having only passed GCSE science due to the brilliance of Mr Johnson's explanations of the laws of physics in terms of Aston Villa analogies, decided the mysteries of the universe were the ideal topic. To London then, for the 9th Douglas Adams Memorial Lecture, to revel in the wisdomosity of Professor Cox.
Sadly, my feeble chocolate-deprived brain could not cope with all this boggling science stuff, but never mind, it was all hugely entertaining, and funny, and beautiful, even when it was being a bit complicated and bothersome. The Large Hadron Collider, even if I still don't get it, is enough to restore anyone's faith in humanity and there is a chocolate-esque glow of loveliness about how well it's all going and how happy and excited the scientists are (see http://www.lhc.ac.uk/)
But then it went a bit pear shaped. The universe, despite being really quite big already, is still expanding. A trifle unnecessary, I think, but there you go. A nice lady from the audience asked what it is that the universe is expanding into. At which point I envisaged a sort of Kinder Surprise type set up with Earth rattling around inside it somewhere, then some space with galaxies and stuff stretching away to meet a layer or two of chocolate. Is that too much to ask? Apparently it is. It's not expanding into anything. It's just expanding. There's nothing there. Less than nothing. Not even anything for there to be nothing in.
How rubbish is that?
Professor Cox, or other learned science bod, if you are reading this - and there's no reason at all why you should - and I've got this all wrong, please post the right answer. (References to Aston Villa are optional, but helpful. Presence of chocolate is highly desirable). Thank you.
I thought I'd try distraction techniques to stop thinking about chocolate and, having only passed GCSE science due to the brilliance of Mr Johnson's explanations of the laws of physics in terms of Aston Villa analogies, decided the mysteries of the universe were the ideal topic. To London then, for the 9th Douglas Adams Memorial Lecture, to revel in the wisdomosity of Professor Cox.
Sadly, my feeble chocolate-deprived brain could not cope with all this boggling science stuff, but never mind, it was all hugely entertaining, and funny, and beautiful, even when it was being a bit complicated and bothersome. The Large Hadron Collider, even if I still don't get it, is enough to restore anyone's faith in humanity and there is a chocolate-esque glow of loveliness about how well it's all going and how happy and excited the scientists are (see http://www.lhc.ac.uk/)
But then it went a bit pear shaped. The universe, despite being really quite big already, is still expanding. A trifle unnecessary, I think, but there you go. A nice lady from the audience asked what it is that the universe is expanding into. At which point I envisaged a sort of Kinder Surprise type set up with Earth rattling around inside it somewhere, then some space with galaxies and stuff stretching away to meet a layer or two of chocolate. Is that too much to ask? Apparently it is. It's not expanding into anything. It's just expanding. There's nothing there. Less than nothing. Not even anything for there to be nothing in.
How rubbish is that?
Professor Cox, or other learned science bod, if you are reading this - and there's no reason at all why you should - and I've got this all wrong, please post the right answer. (References to Aston Villa are optional, but helpful. Presence of chocolate is highly desirable). Thank you.
Wednesday 9 March 2011
Day One - Maybe I've been a bit optimistic
Here's how Day One panned out:
6.40am: feel quite smug, having employed the tactic of eating too many Nutella-filled pancakes last night. I cannot possibly face any chocolate for a fortnight at least. This is going to be easy peasy.
11am: suddenly find myself wishing I'd bought a chocolate flake cake on the way to work. Nooooooo, my Nutella-overdose shield has crumbled already!
11.30am: accompany lovely 6th formers to an Ash Wednesday service - leave feeling full of determination and commitment.
2.40pm: place very handsome collection box in the staff room for people to put items in, walk round the corner and set eyes on the dazzling new drinks machine. Immediately forget the no-chocolate rule. I'm almost lured in to an accidental (hot) chocolate consumption situation but am saved by the fact that I'm quite nosy and want to find out if it can make the 'tea' option taste anything like tea.
5pm: launch mission to find some crayons to take to Nepal. Find myself trapped in a pincer movement between Muffin Break and Thornton's chocolates. Scurry past, probably looking like a shoplifter, and make it home. Discover to my horror that I've left my current read 'A Touch of Frost' at work. Sulk a bit. Blame it all on the lack of chocolate and have a cup of tea instead. Sulk a bit more.
6.40am: feel quite smug, having employed the tactic of eating too many Nutella-filled pancakes last night. I cannot possibly face any chocolate for a fortnight at least. This is going to be easy peasy.
11am: suddenly find myself wishing I'd bought a chocolate flake cake on the way to work. Nooooooo, my Nutella-overdose shield has crumbled already!
11.30am: accompany lovely 6th formers to an Ash Wednesday service - leave feeling full of determination and commitment.
2.40pm: place very handsome collection box in the staff room for people to put items in, walk round the corner and set eyes on the dazzling new drinks machine. Immediately forget the no-chocolate rule. I'm almost lured in to an accidental (hot) chocolate consumption situation but am saved by the fact that I'm quite nosy and want to find out if it can make the 'tea' option taste anything like tea.
5pm: launch mission to find some crayons to take to Nepal. Find myself trapped in a pincer movement between Muffin Break and Thornton's chocolates. Scurry past, probably looking like a shoplifter, and make it home. Discover to my horror that I've left my current read 'A Touch of Frost' at work. Sulk a bit. Blame it all on the lack of chocolate and have a cup of tea instead. Sulk a bit more.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)