Thursday, January 29, 2026

Pork sausages

When we first moved to Epsom, more than thirty years ago now, there was a shed called Porky White's from whence came well known sausages and other pork products. You could buy the sausages, converted into superior sausage rolls - bread rolls that is, not the stuff sold by Greggs - sausage rolls as in ham rolls - on Derby Day at the Marquis of Granby - if you got there early enough that is. We even patronised the shed occasionally.

BH has been buying sausages from Sainsbury's called 'Porky Lites' for some time, and I had thought it likely that one of Sainsbury's suppliers had bought the use of the name. But quite wrong: we had some of these sausages today and it now appears the the old firm has moved onto bigger things. Organic growth really does exist. 

See references 1 and 2.

Housewives

Lunch was further enlivened by a discussion about housewives who do not live in houses, of which there must be a lot these days. With 'homewives' sounding terribly clumsy, if more accurate. Maybe married ladies living in flats prefer to go out to work? To get out of the house?

Checking with OED later, I find that house is a very old word, of old German rather than old French orgin, rating more than four pages - which I can assure readers is a lot, even by the standards of OED. And that excludes all the pages that follow of compounds and derivatives.

So we have a building for people to live in. 

A building housing some trade, for example a brewhouse or a lighthouse.

A building housing animals or goods, for example a henhouse or a warehouse.

A building housing monks. A usage later moved to universities and, later still, schools. 

A boarding house attached to a school. A boarding house for working men, such as existed when I first started work. Now largely vanished.

A building for housing members of Parliament and such like. Hence 'House of Commons'.

More obscure, probably obsolete, a household. But we did talk of the 'House of Windsor' or the 'House of York (that is, the one that got whopped in the Wars of the Roses).

A twelfth part of the heavens, as known to astrologers and fortune tells.

And it gets better the deeper one gets. No doubt, eventually, I would get to housewife, the original of 'hussy'. And a close relative of 'husband'.

Housing type

I then thought to ask Gemini how many people lived in flats, with the start of his answer being snapped above. With the house dwellers - remembering that the units here are buildings rather than people - being far more numerous than I expected.

In response to a further prompt, he goes on to explain why one might think that flat dwellers were more numerous than is actually the case and offers some comparison with nearby European countries.

Gemini's answer, seems to agree fairly well with that I got, only slightly more slowly from ONS. Taken from the 2021 Census.

All of which is reassuring, if not what I was expecting.

Bread

Time to take the bread out of the oven. In which connection I am pleased to be able to report that I now find the alarm clock on my telephone almost as easy to use as Gemini.

Proper proof reading may come later.

References

Reference 1: https://www.porkywhites.co.uk/.

Reference 2: https://www.porkywhites.co.uk/about.

Reference 3: https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/housing/bulletins/housingenglandandwales/census2021.

Pork sandwiches

I have  long been a fan of bacon sandwiches, best served on factory white - but today, quite by chance, I learn of pork sandwiches - otherwise bifanas - from reference 1. I suspect that they will be too complicated for my taste - rather in the way of most burgers - but I ought to give them a go. Something to ask about in the Estrela bar in Vauxhall next time I am there.

It seems that Portuguese food, long established in Little Portugal between Stockwell and Portugal, is riding the wave of foodie fashion, at least if the Financial Times is to be believed.

Fishing

This in the margins of learning from a correspondent that the GDP of University College London (UCL) is larger than that of the UK fishing industry, a factlet that I was supposed to be checking - but got diverted  Are we, for example, including the attached hospital? I did get as far as turning up reference 2.

If true, another example of how nostalgia trumps facts on the ground. To be fair, it is still the livelihood of a fair number of people and it was, until fairly recently, a big part of our national life.

Back in the days when lobsters and oysters were both food for the working classes. The upper classes were not so keen on them at all.

More Galsworthy

Things have now moved on since reference 3, having remembered about and put my hand on reference 4 - a post which stands the test of time pretty well, even though I say it myself. A book which has survived all the culls since.

The point being that Garnett - the subject of reference 4 - was the literary midwife to both Galsworthy and Conrad - with the former have met the latter when the latter was first mate of a clipper sailing from South America. The start of what proved to be a long friendship.

I also have some chapter and verse on the unsurprising fact that Galsworthy's writing draws a good deal on his own life. Including the marital affairs of both Galsworthy himself and those of his father. With the former having started as a barrister and the latter having been a successful London solicitor. Some readers will recall that the Forsyte family included lots of soliciting.

References 

Reference 1: Portuguese food is stepping into the spotlight in London: It’s the once-overshadowed cuisine’s time to shine in the UK capital, with buzzy openings, packed-out old-school spots — and the mouth watering bifana sandwich now a breakout star - Tomé Morrissy-Swan, Financial Times - 2026.

Reference 2: UK fishing fleet stares into a bleak future: An industry that welcomed Brexit feels betrayed - Gordon Smith, Financial Times - 2025.

Reference 3: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/01/a-dream.html.

Reference 4: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/01/midwife.html.

Wednesday, January 28, 2026

A dream

A dream last night about an examination, the sort of thing one might have sat in the late 1960s, with an examination paper containing perhaps a dozen questions, of which good answers to two or three would get you through.

This was rather a long examination, with the dream being clear about it running for three and half hours. At the end of which, I had been sitting for too long and was rather uncomfortable. I suppose this last reflects my sitting capability now, rather than that then.

I found the examination paper itself rather a mess and I could not work it out at all. But I did manage answers to the first two questions. Quite short answers, together only occupying around two sides of A4. Which, according to my recollection this morning, was not the size of paper that I used during examinations at that time. Perhaps foolscap - a size of paper which my father made a great deal of use of, being something of a scribbler on the side. 

And I made the common mistake of not taking the first half hour to study the examination paper before starting to write. All to apt in real life to result in one's making a bit of a mess of things, of not doing nearly as well as one should have. Except, that is, that part of what the examination might be testing is one's ability to organise oneself properly under stress. At least, that is how a prospective employer might look at the matter, more interested in that than, say, your knowledge of the organisation of an orchid or of the history of ancient Iraq, fascinating though they both might be in themselves.

In the dream, I had made this mistake and had failed to understand what the examination paper, a thick wadge of many pages, was mostly about until it was far too late. Whether I had passed or not was a bit touch and go.

Galsworthy

Moving on, I had been reading my Galsworthy short stories (of reference 2) the day before, stories which vary greatly both in their length and in their subject matter, at least in their settings, than I remember from my holiday reading in December.

Furthermore, there did not seem to be any coherence in their order, all just jumbled together. But this morning, I turn to the forward (written by the author in 1925, in Algeria of all places) and the contents pages which follow.

A modest forward by someone whom I suppose by 1925 had been successful. Some interesting thoughts about how a writer should stick to himself, rather than bending overmuch to the whims of the marketplace. Thoughts which go well with financial independence! For which see reference 3 - which also explains why Devon crops up in quite a lot of the stories.

But he also explains that the 50 or so stories are paired, so that both stories in the pair are, in some sense at least, about the same thing, but with one written before 1914 and one written after. All this becomes much clearer, after the event as it were, when I consult the contents pages.

I close with a bit of trivia. One of the stories, very short, is built around a Japanese quince in one of those garden squares that one gets in west London, say Kensington.

Aha, think I, I know all about Japanese quinces. We came across one of those recently at Wisley. And a very handsome small tree it was too. Poking around this morning, I find that the name is used both for a bush and a small tree. The former is now, a hundred years later, common enough in suburban gardens. I think I have grown one myself, without knowing what it was called. And the latter is probably what is snapped above - downloaded before I had learned that there were two plants to chose from.

And while we have indeed come across some interesting small trees at Wisley, with names involving 'Japanese' or 'Japonica', the quince is not among them.

There is a quince to be found at Hampton Court, noticed at reference 6. And I believe there is quite a prolific bush behind our next door neighbour's front wall. 

And so to breakfast.

PS: yesterday was a fish supper day and there was some cod left over. Which combined with some left over potatoes (plus an egg for binding) made fish cakes for breakfast this morning. Turning over not that clever, but the cakes were pretty good. The Waitrose apple juice left was pretty good too: not over-sweet like so much of the apple juice offered for sale. In fact, their bottle did not mention added sugar at all.

References

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

Reference 2: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/01/galsworthy.html.

Reference 3: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Galsworthy. No mention of Algeria here, but the man's comfortable birthplace is included above.

Reference 4: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chaenomeles_japonica.

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

Reference 6: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/search?q=quince. Just the one mention in all the years that psmv5 was running.

Compost

The compost dustbin was getting heavy, the advice was no serious lifting and BH was getting restive. She may even have been thinking of availing herself of the council's food waste disposal service. Action of some kind was clearly indicated.

Eventually it dawned on me that the answer was divide and rule. Tip the dustbin over a bit and transfer the contents to a bucket, one bucket at a time. One bucket did not qualify as serious lifting, nor did carrying it up the garden. With the result after the first bucket snapped above. 

A touch of spring along the way.

A possibly inappropriate hat, all things considered. But the sun was low and I needed something. I associate to the piece in today's Guardian at reference 1, brought to me by chance by Microsoft. Hopefully McEwan has more followers than our new Archbishop - who, as a former (senior) nurse, one might have thought would have known better, but who actually swings the other way. Maybe she has the voice of the Lord in both ears.

At the end of the job. An adult version of spot the difference?

Much easier and much quicker than I had thought. This despite the black sludge at the bottom of the dustbin. Council now stood down.

I rounded off the morning by clearing up a few more leaves. I also took the opportunity to tidy away the bricks left over from the brick walking which started up during the recent plague and carried on for some time after that. See, for example, reference 1.

Reward came in the form of two of my favourite dishes for lunch: potato pie followed by bread pie,. this last made with white bread and served hot - a dish we used, when we were younger and I was still eating white bread, to take quite often. And very good it was too.

So it was good to have one on this occasion. Quite different hot than cold, although this last does pretty well and it was all done by close. Didn't do very well with the snap though.

References

Reference 1: Ian McEwan calls for assisted dying rights to extend to dementia sufferers: The author, whose family has been impacted by dementia, says provision in living wills could clarify intentions when a person declines to the point they are ‘alive and dead all at once’ - Ella Creamer, Guardian - 2026.

Reference 1: https://psmv4.blogspot.com/2021/03/a-year-in-bricks.html.

Still more Scrabble

Proceedings started with a good augury: a bright and clear half moon, high above the back garden. Drifting in and out of what must have been high cloud. Although, despite tapping to focus, the telephone did not manage this half moon, with zoom only yielding a round white blob.

The very next game after that noticed at reference 2, we broke the 600 barrier again. I also happened to win by a comfortable margin. The rules committee have been consulted about whether it would be appropriate to raise the reporting bar.

I did rather well with 'quinine' scoring both singular and plural forms, snagging the triple word bottom left along the way. BH was not very happy with this at all, having had an 's' all along, but had not scored the conversion on the grounds that words denoting materials like 'gravel' or 'sand' do not have plurals. Something that one learns at school very early on.

She was not impressed by my argument that the rule does not apply when, for example, one is talking about the different gravels one gets from the various gravel pits scattered around the Thames flood plain, that is to say the flatlands to the west of London. So I might, as the manager of a concrete plant, say that 'of all the gravels that we have bought recently, the ones from Feltham Wash were far and away the best'.

Longman's, the dictionary we presently use for these purposes - just 5lbs worth from RPPL - had the word down as a noun and did not say anything about the plural form. Neither did the rather longer entry in OED, although it did say that it was also the name of plants - seemingly not the same plant - in the US and in Australia. Merriam Webster goes even further, allowing the use of the word as a verb. All of which tends to support the use of the terminal 's'.

As does the use of quinine in various forms, as in quinine sulphate, quinine tri-nitrate or tincture of quinine. But BH was not having any of this. Or the different brands of generic quinine one might get over time from the Pearl Pharmacy in Epsom High Street. An outfit that shops around.

Some people play the rule that to be allowed a word has to be in bold face in the chosen dictionary to be allowed, without regard to any qualification like 'foreign' or 'slang' which might follow. This has the advantage of simplicity, but rather goes against the spirit of the rules in not allowed derived parts such as 'runs' and 'running' from 'run'. Which we believe disturbs the distribution of the tiles, computed to allow such derivatives. In any event, a rule we do not play.

I associate to the difficulty of making rules watertight, even in a context as apparently simple as this. There will always be room for lawyers to make money when greedy people are pushing and shoving over a contract - be it ever so simple - provided only that there is a reasonable pot of gold at the end of the tunnel.

And talking of pots of gold, I was amused to read about a swindle yesterday (at reference 3) which was very like that described by Galsworthy a hundred years ago and noticed at reference 2. From which one deduces that the chairmen of large companies taking commissions on the side, unbeknown to board, shareholders or creditors, is a well-trodden path.

I close with something more benign. Regular readers will know about my interest in petals, last noticed at reference 4. The idea being that the number of petals of any particular sort of plant is genetically determined and should not vary much in the field and hedgerow, if at all.One might think that the same is true of the size and form of the navel inside a navel orange, seemingly common at this time of year.

One might think also that all the oranges in a net bag from Sainsbury's come from the same batch, the same variety from the same grower. Both variety and grower will vary from time to time, but all the oranges in any one bag should be the same. Except that in this particular bag, while the size and external appearance of the oranges themselves were all much or  muchness, the size and form of the navels inside varied considerably, from almost absent to maybe an inch in diameter and mostly inedible. Which suggests that genetic factors are very much disturbed by environmental factors. 

The oranges themselves were pretty good. 

Something else to try out on Gemini? Perhaps after breakfast.

PS 1: notice how some trick of the light has brough up the 'R' middle left on the Scrabble board.

PS 2: in among my morning post. Not my favourite colour, but then I suppose that they were not to know that.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/01/more-scrabble.html.

Reference 2: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/01/more-first-impressions.html.

Reference 3: First Brands creditors claim ‘two-man’ firm enabled founder’s brother’s fee windfall: Helios Strategic Advisors is latest firm drawn into scandal over bankrupt US auto parts maker - Robert Smith, Financial Times - 2026.

Reference 4:  https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/01/the-real-cheese.html.

Group search key: 20260127.

Tuesday, January 27, 2026

Names and numbers

A story which was motivated by an interest in how names, nouns and numbers came to be – and then came to evolve into what we know as writing. An interest which came to centre on what is now Iraq. There were other places where writing evolved a long time ago – Egypt, China and northern India – but probably rather later and, more importantly for me, there is a lot more readily available information about Iraq. A lot of it seemingly the work of German scholars past and present. Not to mention Agatha Christie’s second husband.

I shall come back to where I got to writing from in due course.

A story which starts with a large population of humans with language, but without writing or anything much in the way of near-writing. This last being the sort of thing to be found at reference 1 and an example is snapped above. But we do have kingdoms of various sizes, pretty much the nation states, pushing and shoving, squabbling among themselves, that we have now.

We also have central facilities like armies, temples and granaries. The economic foundation of these states is agriculture, specifically grains such as maize, rice, barley and wheat. Which means that most of the population is necessarily spread quite thinly over a large area. 

I associate today to once reading that temples, generally speaking and in these sorts of places, managed to absorb about a third of the available resources. Important for keeping the workers quiet and happy, if not particularly well-fed or healthy. Also a separation of powers, something that those studying state institutions today spill much ink over.

Circumstances are such that organisation and communal activity is needed: we are not in a world of sturdily independent farmers living on their land with their families without much need to interact with anyone else. One needed communal activity, for example, to manage the water in the lower reaches of the great rivers of Iraq. Managed well and you got lots of food, but not something that worked on an individual basis. Such states existed in various parts of the world between five and ten thousand years ago. 

We then think about how to model this world for present purposes and we start by distinguishing two sorts of entity, the public node and the private node. Some of these nodes will represent, will be, a single individual. In the case where a node represents more than one individual, one of those individuals will be head of node, otherwise head of household.

As things stand, more or less all such heads will be male – but I don’t think that gender is presently an issue.

Households are mostly quite small. From where I associate to the extended Cossack households of the first volume of ‘And quiet flows the Don’ (reference 4) – but also to the factories full of women textile workers, all more or less slaves, said to be have been run by the Mycenaean kings some time after writing was invented in Iraq.

Nearly all public nodes will have exactly one parent, with just one node at the top of the heap. Emperor, general secretary, dictator, autocrat, king or whatever. That node will have children. Other nodes may have one or more children.

In what follows, we are mainly concerned with public nodes.

Most nodes are associated with places, with locations. Most people do not move around much. And fields do not move at all.

All of which suggests to me a big tree structure, with lots of nodes and levels – the sort of thing snapped above – but, given the primitive machinery available for communication – very few child nodes to the parent node. There have to be few enough children that the parent can manage them without the help of pencil and paper. From where I associate to our army of fifty years ago, which had a similarly dense command structure, albeit for rather different reasons. And from there to an old war film, probably from the US, in which a British private would not obey the orders of a stray US officer: he would only obey ‘his officer’ – who was not on hand to sort whatever it was out.

Roughly speaking, commands trickled down the structure, information trickled up. Produce mainly trickled up, to feed central functions, but there was also provision for trickling down in emergencies. Agriculture might be a good bet in the long run, but there could be difficulties in the short term. Maybe the odd Noah’s flood.

It would be interesting to put some numbers on such a tree for some of the ancient civilisations that we know about. I believe, for example, that in ancient Iraq they ran to around five agricultural layers, that is to say without counting central nodes like granaries and armies.

However, as soon as we start moving food about from one node to another and storing food, there will be theft – theft which has been about for much longer than humans. Think, for example, of the thieving behaviour of nesting rooks: pinching twigs from a nearby nest might well seem a better option than going off to get one’s own. We also need management: the king, for example, needs to know when to move grain from one place to another. Has he got enough grain to last out the winter to come? Will he need to move his army to keep the lid on some region of dearth?


[Cylinder seal of First Dynasty of Ur Queen Puabi, found in her tomb, dated circa 2600 BC, with modern impression]

One way to attack all this is put known amounts of food into sealed containers – which might be pots, jars or rooms. One does the sealing with blobs of wet clay, with opening the container involving the breaking up of the then dry clay. While at the time of sealing one can mark the clay – marks which tell those concerned what is contained, how much there is of it and who the responsible official was. Notice how civil servants got going a long time ago! 

Aside: accountants claim this job too and I believe this factlet is used to liven up their training.

Originally the official would have been identified by rolling his cylinder seal across the wet clay, with these seals being about the size and shape of the cork of a wine bottle and which are more fully described at reference 3. In this context more a role than a name.

And so we had the beginnings of names, nouns and numbers. Probably hundreds if not thousands of years before anything which could properly described as writing, let alone the west-conquering phonetic alphabet. Derived, as it happens from the slightly earlier Phoenician alphabet, which was not phonetic at all as it made do without vowels. The similarity of the two words is presumably a coincidence.

Aside: part of the cylinder seal system was that they were expensive to make, to carve out of stone, making identity theft both difficult and expensive. Another advantage of these seals was that they could accommodate a large amount of variation: they were not bound by a limited repertoire of names – with repertoires of given names, at least in some cultures, being very small. Maybe as small as tens rather than hundreds.

Conclusions

A story which I find convincing. This is probably the place where writing and literacy started out.

I remember that I once went to a lecture at the British Museum where a visiting Iraqi scholar told us something about cuneiform. It was a badly prepared lecture, but I do recall that he told us, in reply to a question, that not all cuneiform was accounting. There was more literary stuff – possibly dreams – as well – albeit from some thousand or so years after my story. We were also generously supplied with wine at the end. This being while I was still in the world of work. 

A story which one might think had some bearing on the contents of consciousness, a long-time interest of mine, but I have yet to work out exactly what that might amount to.

Which reminds me that I once owned the book at reference 6 – but not reading it – about how the northern European renaissance in the 16th century shaped the educated man’s sense of self. Maybe I will now get around to reading it. I might also say that it took the power of Gemini to run the book down.

PS: the image of the cylinder seal further up came from Wikipedia. The original came from the British Museum, who provide the freebie above, but you have to register and pay if you want a good quality image. How much, I have not troubled to find out. The National Gallery, as I recall, is more relaxed about such matters.

While Google Images turns up this much higher resolution image from reference 5. From which I learn that the Wikipedia image is not quite the same as that from the British Museum; some of the details, for example the spears, are missing. Reference 1 talks of there being a lot of minor variations on themes, and I have not done enough to know whether what we have here are slightly different images of the same thing or images of slightly different things. A little knowledge, as they say, can be dangerous.

I should add that reference 5 is an interesting and accessible read, concerning the same city that is the focus of reference 1, albeit a few thousand years later.

References

Reference 1: Archaic bookkeeping: Early Writing and Techniques of Economic Administration in the Ancient Near East - Hans J. Nissen, Peter Damerow, Robert K. Englund, Paul Larsen (translator) – 1993. 

Reference 2: [not used]. 

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

Reference 4: And Quiet Flows the Don – Mikhail Sholokhov – 1928.

Reference 5: https://chameleonfire1.wordpress.com/2013/12/17/gilgamesh-and-civilization/

Reference 6: Renaissance Self-Fashioning: From More to Shakespeare – Stephen Greenblatt – 1980.

Monday, January 26, 2026

More Scrabble

Following the match reported a few days ago at reference 1, a return match which turned the tables. I won by a modest margin and we broke the 600 point barrier.

I started off rather slowly, with far too many vowels, going so far as to turn in all my tiles at one point. And BH scored a remarkable coup with 'quiz' middle right. Nevertheless, I had enough lesser coups of my own to stay ahead.

Longman's being quite forgiving with words like 'ho', 'ha' and 'er'. Much more so in that regard than OED. On the other hand, it excludes lots of proper, but obscure old words which have fallen out of use.

A day which started with my first (slow) walk over West Hill - finding that most of the trolleys we had passed on leaving the station the previous evening were still there - and which had ended at Stamford Green Pond.

Two swans back on the water and two Egyptian geese on the grass. A modest number of other geese, ducks, coots and moorhens round about, on and off the water. Which was a bit lower and a bit clearer than it had been and I thought I spotted some fish sign.

PS 1: one of the trolleys, from Waitrose, was distinguished by having no maker's or seller's plate on the side of the basket. It had what looked to me like new wheels, so perhaps a Wanzl trolley which had passed through the hands of a refurbisher.

PS 2: interesting piece in the FT this morning, Tuesday, about the Ukraine at reference 2. From which various more or less stray thoughts arise.

First, Kushner being in a position of power is a piece of gross nepotism. On the other hand, he appears to be active, able and doing good work on the Ukraine. And from Trump's point of view, he gets stuff done for which he (Trump) has neither the energy or aptitude - while being completely dependent on Trump for his power and position. He is in no position to rock the boat in the way of Burnham or Streeting here. Is it any wonder that our politicians like to delegate power to special advisors and civil servants, rather than doing any real work with what are supposed to be their colleagues?

How long ago is that ministers did any real policy work themselves? One gets the impression from the novels of Trollope that they still were in the second half of the nineteenth century.

From where I jump to Farage. Should he reach No.10, who would do the work for which he has neither the energy or aptitude? Is he going to be invaded by immigrants from the Conservative Party?

Second, Putin may be using the war in the Ukraine to soak up the blood and energy of large numbers of hard-to-employ young men from the wilds of provincial Russia, who might otherwise get restive with the prevailing poverty. And the cold of Asian winters. One might have said the same thing about the UK with the young men of Wales, Scotland and Ireland around 1800.

From where I jump to Trump and his ICE. Soaking up the energy of large numbers of hard-to-employ young men.

Maybe we need to be pouring money into training young people.

References

Reference 1: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/01/scrabble.html.

Reference 2: In Ukraine, it’s all about the land: Trilateral peace talks seem promising, but territory remains a major obstacle - Gideon Rachman, Financial Times - 2026.

Reference 3: https://www.ice.gov/

Cheese

I had been subsisting on canteen cheese and supermarket cheese for some weeks, so Friday past it was time for a trip to London Bridge to get in some of the real thing, the stuff to be found online at reference 1.

All things considered, we decided that the thing to do was to avail ourselves of the car park at our end of Court Recreation Ground, saving ourselves about half the walk to the station. A car park with two interesting features. First it was free, with just a 10:00 bar to keep out most of the commuters. And second, the former park keeper's house which had been sold off to one of those private finance outfits which run nearly all our veterinary surgeries - this not being something that bothers me, not being into pets, but I understand that there are quite a lot of people who are are not very happy with the change of tone from the olden days. Probably without thinking to what might happen to our health services if they get pushed down the same road.

A veterinary surgery which is perfectly visible on the Internet, but which does not seem to have its own website, with the best I could do being reference 2.

Then with the help of Gemini, who tells me what name to look under, Companies House gives me the choice above.

Picking out a likely looking one, I land on the outfit above. Seemingly a status which means that they do not have to file much information at all, although a dozen or more partners are listed, one of whom sports the title 'Dr'. We are told that they are to be found in Seymour Street.

Somewhere near Marble Arch. No dogs here thank you. Some people called Waterlow Nominees Ltd get into the mix too, but at this point I break off the search. Not very conclusive at all, but certainly consistent with the theory I started with.

Readers are invited to check whether I have been barking up the wrong tree.

Back with the cheese, we strolled down to the station and caught a train to London Bridge in good order.

On to a quiet Borough Market, quiet that is for a Friday lunchtime, through to Park Street and bought our regular kilo of cheese. I suppose 'my regular' would be more correct, as BH does not much care for the stuff and prefers to make her own arrangements in Epsom.

Surprised to come across quite a lot of starlings, in among the pigeons grubbing about. Presumably the place is busy with rats after dark.

Zoom not much good, being dominated by imaging artefacts, but there is no doubt in my mind that they were starlings. Common enough in my primary school days, relatively unusual in Epsom. But see, for example, reference 3.

By way of lunch, I had picked Café François off gmaps, in Borough Yards, partly on the strength of the visit noticed at reference 4, but also because Stoney Street ran into Park Street, where the cheese shop is to be found. However, my expectations turned out to be quite wrong, with Borough Yards much more modern and fancy than I was expecting and the café much more Instagram than Terroirs - with which last I had thought it might have had more in common, given the short food menu, the rather longer wine menu and the French flavouring. Notwithstanding, we went on to have a good lunch.

One of the features of the place was luggage racks behind wall & window seats, tubular steel contraptions, rather like what you get in trains. But very convenient for us with our winter coats, walking sticks, cheese and so forth. Not a convenience I remember coming across before.

Most of the staff came from much further away than France, and we did not notice anyone actually from France at all. The restaurant area was pretty full, although, despite being in the middle of London, it was more pensioners and tourists than workers. 

Noting in passing, that there was the same mismatch of branding and counter staff in the stalls in the market - a lot of the branding being French or Italian and very few of the counter staff being anything of the sort.

So to one side we had a party of middle aged ladies from up north, to the other a young couple from Swansea, visiting relatives in Redhill. The young man sounded very English, but it turned out that he was a geography lecturer at Swansea University who sometimes lectured in Welsh - to rather small classes - and who also contributed to Welsh language services on radio and television. He also did remarkably well with the chocolate mousse; all you can eat for a tenner.

Back with our own meal, we started with bread and a confection of leek and cheese. Both good, the bread particularly so. Even better than that which one used to get from said Terroirs. (That at the successor operation, Soif, near Clapham Junction, was not nearly so good, although the place did well enough in other ways).

The leeks. Maybe the topping would have been better a little less crunchy: less of a danger to crowns and fillings.

For our main course, we opted for the special of the day, Chateaubriand, a dish we first took in a place caller Caspers, alleged to be a vanity operation in Epsom, bankrolled by someone's father-in-law, but also a rather good restaurant. I might say that I remember their Chateaubriand being a lot better than the present one. Also a place which allowed the smoking of after dinner cigars, this at a time when most restaurants had banned such things.

Been closed since before I gave up work and the best I can do today is the passing mention at reference 7. We have had nothing as good ever since.

This one came with chips and a side salad, which I augmented with more bread, not wanting to waste this splendid opportunity for hot meat sandwiches. The side salad was more or less flavouring free, which suited me just fine.

The steak knives were rather silly, looking the business, but actually being completely blunt. Not fit to open bananas with, let alone steak.

But there was plenty of meat, it was nicely presented and it was very tender - which meant the lack of edge on the knives did not matter. All of which suited BH just fine too, being on a low meat diet presently and preferring her food not to be too chewy.

But it also came in a lake of very powerful gravy, to my mind very much the sort of thing that you get in places like Wetherspoons - where they have the good manners to serve it in a jug without having to remember to ask them. At least here, I could shake most of the stuff off before I transferred the meat to my plate. Meat which I thought was a bit light on flavour. Not properly aged Scottish beef from nearby Ginger Pig at all. Or, indeed, for that matter, from Rob the Butcher of Epsom.

They kept trying to take the salad away, but they gave up in the end.

I passed on the aforementioned chocolate mousse, but went for the rather more modest éclair, which seemed to be something of a speciality of the house. Rather good. Rounded out with the traditional Earl Grey for her and Calvados (no choice, but perfectly acceptable) for him.

The view outside, not long before we left. Luggage rack just visible. Wall art rather better than the sort of thing that is presently infesting Epsom.

I can't resist mentioning the washroom that I visited, a very extravagant affair catering to all comers. With one feature being old-style water closets, complete with chains. My father would have been delighted, as he delighted in jokes of all sorts about that sort of thing. Not uncommon, I am told, for gentlemen of a certain class of that time. Before the second world war, that is.

Sadly, BH visited the wrong one, and missed all this. Not the same in the telling.

Fine view of the Shard outside. And, oddly, the market was much busier when we left than it had been when we arrived, despite a fair proportion of the stalls having closed in the meantime. I forgot all about investigating bread without sour dough and with malt and/or fruit - perhaps because I had expected to be disappointed. On the other hand, I could have had an entire rabbit (skinned) for £9, which I thought was very reasonable. Must go back soon and see if they are still there.

PS: I have ignored the email inviting me to review my visit. I neither provide nor consume such things.

References

Reference 1: https://lincolnshirepoachercheese.com/.

Reference 2: https://www.veterinarycentral.co.uk/veterinarian/262809/wingrave-veterinary-surgery#google_vignette.

Reference 3: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2023/12/trolley-600.html.

Reference 4: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/10/korean-lights.html.

Reference 5: https://www.cafefrancois.london/.

Reference 6: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/search?q=soif.

Reference 7: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/08/puligny-montrachet-off.html.

Sunday, January 25, 2026

Deep geek

Coming back to my laptop after a break of some hours yesterday, HP started sending me a stream of irritating pop-ups about cameras bottom right. I didn't seem to be able to stop them.

Restarting the laptop was one answer, but asking Gemini was another. He promptly gave me a stream of deep-geek, in among which I noticed something about the hinge of the laptop. I tried moving the screen around a bit and the pop-ups promptly vanished.

Gemini explained that this was likely something to do with the wires connecting the stuff going on  in the screen - including the camera - to the computer proper in the body of the laptop. Wires which have to run through the hinge. Suggestive of a hardware problem, in particular pinched or even damaged wires. What a pain, with the (HP Envy)  laptop not being much more than a year old.

I don't make much use of the camera, but I do have the occasional healthy meeting on Microsoft Teams - which I might say I find impressive. So maybe I ought to test the camera and microphone. Maybe the microphone lives in the screen part of the laptop too.

Gemini helpfully explained how I might do this. The screen and microphone did indeed work and I now know that there is a whole elaborate camera application out there. Hopefully I will never need to use it again.

And I am pleased to be able to record that I was able to find one the resultant snaps - flipped from left to right - without Gemini's help.

I might add that along the way, Gemini offered to find a geek near me whom I could pay to come and sort this out. So perhaps we are heading for a world in which local tradesmen - plumbers, gardeners, geeks and so forth - are going to have to make themselves known to the popular AI assistants if they want to stay in business. Checkatrade out, Copilot in! Maybe Bing and his friends will retain the model whereby you pay them to get up the hit list.

PS: there is also the consideration that AI assistants may well reduce the demand for geeks, rather as YouTube has reduced the need for plumbers. Small jobs are back within the reach of the householder and one doesn't have to go through the whole tiresome business of finding someone to do them for you. And then there is the puzzle of why the big companies are not moving into the geek business, in the way that they have moved into household maintenance, in the way of British Gas with their HomeCare product. BT used to offer rather a good telephone service which I used for a while, before they pulled it: presumably it did not pay. I associate to a product called Citrix - although I did need Gemini to tell me what it was called! See references 3 and 4.

References

Reference 1: https://www.checkatrade.com/. I see their name about, even if I do not make much use of it.

Reference 2: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/10/errand.html. Purchase of the laptop in question.

Reference 3: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2024/07/limitations.html.

Reference 4: https://psmv2.blogspot.com/2015/03/windows-8-resumed.html. From the days of Windows 8.

Scrabble

A crescent moon rising over Stamford Green Pond, late yesterday afternoon. The water ponds were on the pond, rather than grazing on the grass, as they were on the last occasion, perhaps because a dozen or so youngsters were playing football there. Cricketers up and running, but I passed on this occasion, Directors' bitter notwithstanding.

A bit more than crescent according to reference 2, first quarter, 40%. I shall have to take another look this evening.

Home to our first Scrabble of the year, in which BH got off to a roaring start, building up a lead of getting on for a hundred points. It helped that she managed to snag - and unload - all the big letters, that is to say Z, Q, X and J.

I thought the situation pretty hopeless, but I hung in there, pulling steadily back, going out with YON for 6 points, to lose by one point after taking the bonus for going out.

BH pointed out that she lost the last game before the break by just one point so it was only fair. The last recorded game, at reference 1, must have been a day or so before that, recorded for breaking the 600 point barrier. Came close on this occasion with 587.

One word of interest was 'tong', allowed by Longman's as a brotherhood of Chinese criminals, not half a pair of coal tongs or sugar tongs, which was what I was thinking of.

In OED, 'tong' gets just a few column inches, and would be allowed in Scrabble on account of the bell sound usage. No brotherhoods to be seen. 'Tongs' does rather better with a column and a half, mainly various grasping implements as in sugar tongs or coal tongs, but also some figurative meanings, as in 'I wouldn't touch it with a pair of tongs'. The singular 'tong' did exist but is marked as obsolete. Which makes me think of a variation of Scrabble whereby you can only use a word if you declare the meaning. The word just happening to be in the dictionary with some other meaning would not count.

Related to 'tang', which is an old word which gets nearly three columns in OED. The meanings I knew, the tang of something like a chisel, the part that is rammed into the wooden handle, and the tang of something in the mouth are both present, although the second of these is rather lost in the depths.

PS 1: a waking thought this morning, thinking back to the new defence strategy, noticed yesterday at reference 3. We are reverting to the Middle Ages, when being a king meant putting on a show. A time of triumphal entries, pageants, pomp and ceremony. The king had to be seen, with this being almost as important as what he got up to, with most people having little or no interest in this last, provided he did not disturb things. And it did help if he scattered a bit of gold on his travels: suitable presents for the upper classes, scattering coin in the streets for the lower classes.

PS 2: during our holiday we acquired a tub of something called 'Utterly Butterly', a butter enhanced margarine that I associate with the naval aunt and the 1950s. From the days when margarine was a cheap alternative to butter, then very scarce and expensive, rather than the health food it has since become. 

I learn this morning that the brand is owned by Saputo, a large Canadian dairy processor invented by an immigrant from Italy who arrived in Canada in the early 1950s.

While Gemini tells me that I have got it all wrong, that Utterly Butterly was a retro thing invented in the 1980s. I have not been able to confirm this, but such stuff as I have turned up is consistent with the later launch. The aerial campaign snapped above was in the 1990s.

His closing tit-bit. With granite back in the frame!

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2025/11/a-rare-event.html.

Reference 2: https://www.timeanddate.com/moon/uk/epsom.

Reference 3: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/01/tweet-one.html.

Reference 4: https://uk.saputo.com/en/brands/utterly-butterly.

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

Saturday, January 24, 2026

Tweet one

There was a great spotted woodpecker at the very top of the oak tree at the top of our garden (that is to say the back) this morning. The first proper tweet of the year. We also had a jay, some pigeons and some parakeets, but they don't count. Plus there was plenty of twittering the bushes, but that doesn't count either.

And while it might claim at reference 2 (turned up by Bing), that this is the commonest woodpecker in England, it is certainly not the commonest here at Epsom, with the larger green woodpeckers being a far more frequent visitor - to the point where they are no longer tweetable. Which all serves to remind one that there are plenty of porkies out there on the Internet, even on apparently respectable websites.

The tree in question is the one back right of the lawn (mainly moss at present, quite attractive in its way) at reference 1. Far too far away for my telephone to make anything of a bird there, hence the snap above, lifted from aforementioned reference 2. Very pretty it was too.

PS 1: I thought Gemini did pretty well on this occasion. I shall try to remember to check up on the ground feeding habits of the green woodpecker, which I had noticed - but not drawn this conclusion.

Maybe also he is developing a sense of humour, with part of his response to a comment.

And at least all that electricity which he is burning up is providing me with some entertainment. Along, presumably, with millions of others. Mr Sadiq Khan's views on the subject notwithstanding.

PS 2: a spot of light reading for this afternoon. To be compared and contrasted with our own strategy document, to be found at Cm 7948? My own copy of this last was a present from a correspondent. Maybe there is an update.

So far, all I can say is that this strategy features a lot of pictures of POTUS and none of the flashy hardware I was expecting. Perhaps one of their carrier battle groups?

References

Reference 1: https://psmv6.blogspot.com/2026/01/steak-and-kidney.html.

Reference 2: https://www.wildlifetrusts.org/wildlife/how-identify/identify-uk-woodpeckers.

Friday, January 23, 2026

FT


Coverage of sport and media in the Guardian seems to have been steadily increasing over the past few months, infiltrating even the single digit pages at the front, which used to be kept for what might be called traditional news. I had assumed that this was all to do with money: such stuff was cheap and did not require expensive journalists. Maybe also, even more pessimistically, that is what people are prepared to pay for.

More recently, the same sort of thing seems to be happening at the FT, for which I pay serious money. There is still plenty of good stuff there, but the amount of what I regard as padding does seem to be increasing.

To be fair, it is Saturday, a day of rest for serious journalists, but in the snap above, there might be no sport, but there are three items about the state of our public houses, including one duplicate. One duplicated item about the art industry.

That item - reference 1 - very much reflects the pickle one gets into when what one might call heritage culture has got too expensive. Mainly patronised by the middle classes and not enough money is coming in from government and the rich, for whom it has replaced, to some extent at least, buying status with land. All the big sites in central London are awash with flashy (and expensive) specials and tourists. All too many of those elsewhere are more visitor attraction than anything else. How long will it be before the National Gallery runs a winter wonderland?

While our government no longer has the dosh to chuck at such things, in the way of old.

Reference 2 was more interesting, interesting more by virtue of what was missing than for what was there. We are told virtually nothing about the Iranian in question, apart from his being vaguely London based and very rich. Maybe an expatriate Iranian who is betting on the mullahs getting out and Farage getting in in the not too distant future? Will all the people who are likely to vote for Farage know or care where he gets his pocket money from?

Reference 3 is off-snap, all about some Tory Lords using a procedural device to slow the progress of our deal over Chagos, a relic of our imperial past. A sop to Trump. And, sadly, despite its presently huge majority in the Commons, it does not look as if the Labour Government is going to have the time or energy to spare to bring our second house into the twentieth - never mind the twenty first century - and give us an elected upper chamber in the way of much of the rest of the world. We might have been first off the blocks with modern democracy, but our recent record on governance is scarcely a good advertisement for same.

PS 1: I note in passing the often OTT graphics - graphics which are complicated and pretty, but which do not inform - and advertisements for luxury goods which infest the FT. They can irritate as well as intrude.

PS 2: I also associate to the flashy specials which charge you a great deal to see National Treasures in uncomfortable and crowded surroundings, which you can see in comfort - and for free - at other times. I suppose participating in the special must be the thing, never mind the ancient picture.

References

Reference 1: UK should show more gratitude to arts donors, says V&A chief: Tristram Hunt tells the FT that Labour’s non-dom tax changes have been a ‘challenge’ for fundraising - Franklin Nelson, Financial Times - 2026.

Reference 2: Nigel Farage attended Davos as adviser to Iranian billionaire: Reform UK leader’s pass and hotel costs for World Economic Forum event were paid for by Sasan Ghandehari - Mercedes Ruehl, Ortenca Aliaj, Anna Gross, Financial Times - 2026.

Reference 3: Tory peers force UK to pause passage of Chagos Islands bill after US criticism: Donald Trump called plan to transfer sovereignty of the archipelago to Mauritius an ‘act of great stupidity’ - Lucy Fisher, Anna Gross, Financial Times - 2026.

Pothole

Thursday was another quiet day. But there was a trolley in town and there was a very impressive pothole in Meadway, which last seems to have appeared since I was last there. Bigger than anything that we have had in our road and perhaps the result of the heavy use of this stretch of road by people with big cars do not care to pay to park them for the day while they are in London. Maybe helped along by the all building work round about.

Evidenced by a standard three bedroom estate house, quite near the pothole, which is morphing into a much larger house, leaving very little space between it and its neighbours, absorbing the garage - and no doubt a chunk of the back garden - into the house. I suppose that a lot of this is not any real need for a larger house, more people thinking that investing in a bigger house is a better bet that keeping their pension pot in the building society or in stocks & shares. I associate to my maternal grandfather who, after the north American custom, kept his savings in stocks & shares and was said to have been badly bitten by the depression before the second world war.

I guess it is also the case that we Brits like to tie up a lot of capital in houses, rather than in something more productive, possibly accounting for some of our difficulties on the economic front.

To close, I take the opportunity to record that after my recent holiday, I seem to be having a lot more senior moments - for example, a lot more attempts to put inappropriate objects into the refrigerator. A lot more minor lapses of memory. A tendency to walk out into the road without properly checking for silent cars coming up behind me. A tendency to sit around indoors doing absolutely nothing at all. Maybe the brain went on holiday too and is taking a while to get back into gear.

PS 1: I have not yet been to photograph the Screwfix whitebeam, of which lots are to be found at reference 1. Maybe they will be replaced by regular photographs of the Meadway pothole.

PS 2: interested to read in the Guardian over breakfast that India goes in for HS2s too. In their case, taking the form of an enormous motorway so that rich people working in the middle of Mumbai can get to their homes in the leafy suburbs in good order, without having to drive through the crowded slums in between. It seems that the people who live in the slums are not that impressed. For a different take, see reference 2, also the source of the snap above.

PS 3: just done my first YouGov survey of the year. The only point of interest being an AI generated segment tacked onto the end. It did not seem terribly intelligent yet, but it will be interesting to see where it goes - and in the meantime I can try and work it out for myself. How could AI help a questionnaire about brands of chocolate mousse along?

References

Reference 1: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/search?q=screwfix+whitebeam&max-results=20&by-date=true.

Reference 2: https://www.carandbike.com/news/mumbai-coastal-road-project-phase-1-opens-to-public-today-3212140.