Freedom of the press

The BBC recently reported the Sun's take on its decision to print the photo of Prince Harry naked:

In Friday's Sun, under the headline "Heir it is", the paper says: "Pic of naked Harry you've already seen on the internet".

David Dinsmore, managing editor of the Sun, said the paper had thought "long and hard" about publication and added: "For us this is about the freedom of the press.

"This is about the ludicrous situation where a picture can be seen by hundreds of millions of people around the world on the internet but can't be seen in the nation's favourite paper read by eight million people every day.

"This is about our readers getting involved in the discussion with the man who is third in line to the throne - it's as simple as that."

In an editorial, the newspaper said the pictures represented a crucial test of Britain's free press.

A number of questions sprung to my mind:

• Why did the paper think "long and hard" about going to the trouble of printing a picture available to "hundreds of millions of people ... on the internet"? Surely that is a number even greater than the circulation of the Sun so presumably the Sun's buyers have already seen the photos?
• Why did the paper not simply supply a link to the internet photo or suggest a few search terms instead thus avoiding the "long and hard" thinking?
• What kind of 'discussion' does Mr Dinsmore expect to result from the publication of the photos? How would this discussion have differed if they had not printed the photos?
• His comment seems to imply that this 'discussion' will be "with the man who is third in line to the throne" - are we to understand that Prince Harry will be personally involved in this 'discussion' with the readers of the Sun?
• Why is this a crucial test of Britain's 'free press', rather than, say, a discussion about why the mainstream news media are in the hands of a very few, very rich companies who have a very particular view of what's important and what's not in the world and why, for example, we in the West are the good guys no matter what violence we do to the lives of people in other (usually Middle Eastern) countries where they are of course wicked terrorists waiting to destroy the fragile world peace we are so determined to spread around the globe?

For anyone interested in analysing the performance of our 'free press' they may like to have a look at Medialens and make up your own mind.

Reports of Peak Oil's death are greatly exaggerated

I gave about 6 or 7 talks about Peak Oil when I lived in Brighton to alert people to something I felt, and still feel, is critically important for us to address. Oil powers a huge proportion of what makes our current minority world lifestyle possible and so examining how much we have, may have and how much it will cost seem worthwhile areas of investigation to me. Sadly, discussion of it in the mainstream media is almost zero (unless faces with a price spike or embargo) and so we lumber on towards a crisis. As usual.

If Peak Oil means absolutely nothing to you (which is very likely) then you can read a good overview here - his site's not been updated since 2009 but nothing of material significance has changed since then to alter its essential message. There are many other sites where you can find up to date information. A recent column in the Daily Telegraph this July put it well:

While there's lots of hype about tar sands and shale fuels, these new technologies often expend more energy than they create, while causing horrendous environmental and water-supply problems. Conventionally-produced crude will remain absolutely critical, and demand for it will spiral, until mankind bans the internal combustion engine, outlaws ammonium-based fertilisers, dismantles the global pharmaceutical industry and learns to live without plastic. I can't see that happening anytime soon.

Me neither!

Here's a short video by Richard Heinberg from the Post Carbon Institute about why Peak Oil has not gone away, even if George Monbiot seem to think so.

It's worth a watch.

And I thought that snails in our garden were a problem ...

I found this amazing photo of rows of cabbages online from Secrett's farm near Guildford and it illustrates why Climate Change could present some obstacles to the "We'll adapt" approach of Exxon's boss Rex Tillerson which he promoted at a recent press conference.

And how do you feel about being a member of the "illiterate public"? that clearly doesn't understand the situation at all ...

The industry's biggest challenge, [Tillerson] said, is "taking an illiterate public and try to help them understand why we can manage these risks."

The Drugs Don't Work ...

We recently had some nonsensical and contradictory comments from Justice Secretary Alan Clarke on the UK Government's Drug Strategy:

We've engaged in a war against drugs for 30 years. We're plainly losing it. We have not achieved very much progress.

and

We are disappointed by the fact that, apart from making progress, it can be argued we are going backwards at times.

This of course is no surprise to anyone who thinks about it for a while and is not blinkered by the idea that, no matter what, drugs must remain illegal. When something is illegal it cannot be regulated and so quality of the drugs people are using can't be checked (for spiked or deadly mixtures) and there can be no offer of any useful education or treatment until things are pretty bad for the individual, to name just some of the problems.

Clarke opined:

We keep trying every method we can to get on top of one of the worst social problems in the country and the single biggest cause of crime. (my bold)

Well, not every method, clearly, because he also states:

The government has no intention whatever of changing the criminal law on drugs.

So, there you have it. Basically, the government's policy is ... to continue with the approach that by Clarke's own admission has failed for 30 years. Mind you, drugs policy would not be alone in that.

Last year on the Cannabis Law Reform web site a statement from the Labour Party was reprinted:

On drugs, our message is clear: we will not tolerate illegal drug use.

Yet another area where Labour and Tory are in agreement then, given that Labour have no plans to change their illegality. The Lib Dems, to their credit, have a sensible approach and naturally, the Green Party takes a mature and realistic approach to drug use.

This is the whole BBC item.

A better world ...

I know, I will post something soon about a wonderful recent tour around the Tiptree marmalade fountains soon but for now here's a rather pithy cartoon:

Christmas is coming ...

Well, 2012 sets a new marker in forward planning!

On the 26th of June, Chris and I visited my Mum and took her out to Silvermere for lunch. There in the bar were the invitation brochures encouraging us to book for Christmas and New Year meals and entertainment. As Mum observed, "But the children haven't even broken up for summer holidays yet".

Further comment is superfluous.

Sorry I've not posted for a while but I will get back on the case soon, honest!

In the meantime here is a little shameless promotion of two things:

The Maldon Art Trail which is happening at the end of September around Maldon and showcases the work of local artists in various shops, cafes and other venues in the area.

Secondly, my lovely man Chris now has his own web site to showcase his beautiful creations in calligraphy, drawing and even wood burning (or pyrography for the cognoscenti!). Have a browse and then maybe commission some beautiful piece for yourself or a friend. :)

Blocking the road

On the 12th of February (I know, it's a while back!) the main B road at the top of Goldhanger was closed to traffic for road works. This meant that all the traffic normally going along that road had to come past our house, through the village and rejoin the main road.

It was quite a shock.

After living in Brighton where traffic is a constant aural backdrop to almost every road in the city, the delicious quietness here has been a joy. This invasion of diverted traffic was a real shock with cars speeding down our small road at crazy speeds, traffic jams of 5 or 6 vehicles trying to get around parked cars and large lorries squeezing past brushing the trees.

It's a reminder of what those who live in cities have to accommodate every day.

Plenty of light ...

On the 3rd of March Chris and I visited the "Genius of Illumination" exhibition at the British Library. Neither of us had ever been to the BL before so that was a treat too. Not too much though as we spent the entire visit in a dark underground room so we didn't really see the library at all! Ah well, next time ...

The exhibition was quite extraordinary, containing as it did illuminated books some of which were over 1300 (I think) years old. In the foyer before the exhibition proper, there was an explanation of how it was done for a newbie like me. Chris was in his element and very excited as he is a talented calligrapher himself and has his own web site devoted to the subject. The books ranged in size from pocket size to those where a small trolley might have been quite handy. Apart from their beauty - the richness of the colours, the detail of the text and the sparkle of leaf gold - there was the history of these items. The psalter of King Henry VIII, the edges of the pages grubbed by his fingers and the same, though smaller in size, of that of Queen Elizabeth I. Here are documents which physically connect us with world famous figures from our nation's history (and our ink-smudged school exercise books) who handled them over 400 years ago. Amazing. A shame we couldn't get to smell them too but they were out of nose reach in carefully lit glass prisons.

Other documents I loved too for their quirkiness were some maps. They were nothing like maps today but almost like printed sat-nav directions (if I may say that) in that they were very long but only a few inches wide and only showed your starting point (perhaps London) and then, via a succession of illustrated towns and landmarks, your destination, say Padua. They did not show what was around London or Padua or your route, only what you would need to find to continue to the next stage of your journey. They made me smile.

We had planned to complete our exhibition visit with tea and cake but suddenly a voice over loudspeakers announced "Ladies and gentlemen - the exhibition will be closing in 15 minutes.". Which meant that the cafe had either closed or was about to and we realised that apart from a 5 minute rest we had been on our feet for four and a half hours in this set of linked, darkened subterranean rooms and not noticed the time. Obviously, we had enjoyed it.

~~~~~~~~~~~

As a complete contrast, we arrived in Devon on the 22nd of the month to spend five days camping but we exchanged darkened underground rooms in our capital city for the wildness, open air and brilliant sunlit illumination of the Dartmoor National Park at the start of what proved to be the warmest March weather for years. (Not a patch on the scary weather in the USA though I have to say!)

It was our first 'proper' holiday together since we met, so to be camping in such a stunning landscape was a real thrill for both of us. Here's a smiling Chris bringing tent-brewed morning tea on our first morning there and yes, that is an electric kettle ... but we did have a portable gas stove too.

Over our five days we walked across the moors to stone circles, visited Castle Drogo (joining the National Trust in the process), attended a commitment ceremony for friends at Haldon Belvedere (quite a place as you can see below):

We also consumed great beer and food (including the best mashed potato in my life and wicked home-made chilli chip sauce!) in the amazing Drewe Arms where the previous landlady Mabel Mudge had run it for 75 years when she retired aged 99!! We visited the chocolate box pretty village of Lustleigh to enjoy refreshment at the Primrose Tea Rooms. It is run by a mother and daughter and the mother loved my nice fountain pen, calligraphy and proper writing and so she and Chris had a good chat and she brought down a book for him on a stone carver with a fab garden who lived in Scotland. Such a lovely couple and a lovely place with gorgeous coffee and cakes into the bargain.

Not only all this, but somehow, despite never having gone near a sip or sniff of gin since I got horrendously drunk on Gordon's Gin with my best mate Ralph around the age of 15 or so (so utterly embarrassing when my Dad had to come and rescue me and put me to bed) I reacquainted myself with it. Chris wanted to get some Gin and we went into a great wine shop in lovely Chagford and the proprietor recommended The Botanist, which is, very improbably, from the Isle of Islay in Scotland! He also suggested that we skip tonic water from Schhh ... you know who, and get something appropriate to the quality of the gin, namely Fever Tree tonic. So, armed with these Chris mixed a gin and tonic back at the tent. Well, I was shocked. The gin itself had scents vaguely similar to gin I knew but the taste, aroma and even texture in my mouth were from another planet (or perhaps, just Scotland!). Stunning. We agreed that we could probably drink it neat! The tonic was wonderful - all natural and no Aspartame (which even if there's nothing in the bad press still tastes synthetic and disgusting) or other junk. The purity of the tonic matched the purity and scent of the gin. We were both amazed and I just kept going wow! wow! I couldn't, and still can't, believe that I've now seriously got into gin after a gap of 38 years since it last passed my lips... [As they say, I have no connection with either company but I like to mention something that's unusual, brilliant and enhances the sensual pleasures of life and if that is gin and tonic then so be it!]

Chris and I both love the outdoors and especially wild, rugged and unspoilt places and Dartmoor is a fine example. We had an exhilarating time and there's still so much more to explore and so many times of the year to visit. I'm looking forward to showing Chris the delights of the Highlands of Scotland. I can't wait!

A big catch up post

As (at least up until now) all these posts are being written some time after the events they describe I thought I'd bundle most of the ones before I started the blog together into one entry so that I can get around to letting you know more of what's going on now.

So ...

The 22nd of December was an unusual day as it was the first since moving to our cottage on the 14th where Chris was off to work and I was left alone. As a consequence, I spent most of the day sweeping outside, cleaning the lounge windows (a quick and simple job compared to those huge bay windows of Wilbury Road!), tidying the lounge, kitchen and bathroom. It was nice to get on but odd not having Chris around but it was clearly going to be a pattern I'd need to get used to.

On Christmas morning it was a first for me (but not Chris!), namely Panettone and Champagne. The Panettone was huge, though I've since seen bigger, and from Carluccio's and was delicious. We ate some as was, some with butter and some toasted. The top was crispy and tasty and the champagne went very well with it so certainly a recommended combination.

Almost a month later to the day was a sad day. Chris's Uncle Fred, who I had met only once in hospital, had died during January and on the 24th of January we found ourselves in Sawbridgeworth for his funeral. Age is a funny thing as many have observed before me - the elderly and weak man I'd met in hospital had taken to the air in over 20 planes and never landed in any of them ... he was a member of the paratroopers and a boxer of 60 fights of which apparently he'd won every one. Even at my ripe old age of 53 I still tend to think of myself as being fit and hearty well into my (even) older years but we don't know how it will go and the whole thing is quite sobering. A number of paratroopers, none of whom knew Fred personally, came to pay their respects in their uniforms and with a large banner. They said that Fred's named would be inscribed on its brass plaque. One of these men had come, on his own and with a walking frame from across the other side of London! During the funeral service the man with the banner stood silently at the front of the church with a great composure and dignity that I found very moving. It was good that Chris and I managed to chat to them in the Masonic Lodge afterwards where the post-funeral gathering was held. They were real gentlemen, every one and that was an honour I felt.

A couple of days later Chris and I went to Colchester which was a bit of a busman's holiday for Chris as he works there! We had some shopping and an appointment to keep but we had a fine time wandering around the streets of Britain's oldest recorded Roman town. We stopped for coffee in the The George, a 500 year old coaching inn which just drips character from its wonky walls, floors and ceilings to its wooden beams all through the lounge area. We were really chuffed to get taken by the manager into the bowels of the hotel, where the old bar used to be (the old counter and pumps were still there!) to see a glass panel set into the wall through which we could see the layers of soil making up the street above. Allegedly, the ash is in there from the time that Queen Boudicca razed the city to the ground some 2000 years ago! We couldn't see it ourselves ...

My Mum had visited Colchester once a long time back and could only remember a delicious meal that she had in The Cups hotel. We tried to find it to no avail ... but then a little internet searching produced this information (The Cups is mentioned about 1/4 of the way down the page with a photograph). The building in its place not far down the high street from The George is an utterly bland and featureless grey office block - criminal.

Later on we went to the Colchester museum but it was too late in the day to do it justice so we'll visit another time. It's an 11th Century Norman Keep and the largest in Europe and looked and felt great during the time we wandered around the entrance area. The next evening they had a talk about witchcraft (or perhaps witch hunting and burning) in Essex which I would have loved to have attended but it was not possible. Maybe another time if I'm lucky.

And, almost another month later, on the 22nd of February we attended a meeting in the Town Hall to discuss the Christmas Lights for 2012 in Maldon!! That was surreal.

On the 23rd we went to see Steven Spielberg's latest film, War Horse at the wonderful Rio Cinema (the site is totally written in Flash so it can be hard work and won't display on most mobile phones and tablets! Oops.) in Burnham-On-Crouch. The legroom in each of the rows of chairs in front of us was truly stupendous but we sat together on one of the enormous sofas about halfway down the length of the cinema and ate popcorn. Quietly. The film had some really beautiful moments, gorgeous scenery in Dartmoor and was an unusual tale from a horse's point of view (though not nearly as much as in the book we've been informed). It was very glamourised with a lot of filters and special effects and I felt that the final scenes would not have been out of place in Gone With The Wind.

OK. That's enough for today. More to come soon ...

Another family trip

Today we went to visit Chris's Auntie Joan. The story of how they met again after many years is something definitely best read on Chris's blog rather than me attempting to tell it.

Auntie Joan is even taller than Chris which was a surprise! We were going to visit her and her son, but also to visit her husband Fred in hospital who had been taken in a short time beforehand. The trip was straightforward but we had to wait a bit in the hospital entrance while her son Stephen parked the car which was problematic due to the number of parked cars.

We went up in the lift to the second floor where we found Fred in bed in one of the wards. Chris introduced me and Fred said hello to me, having never seen me before of course. I sat there quietly for the most part, Stephen (their son) went off to find what was going on with Fred whilst Auntie Joan chatted to Fred, a task made unnecessarily difficult as the staff had lost Fred's hearing aids and had not got him any replacements!

We stayed for about and hour or more, it's often hard to tell in hospitals where I find that time always seems to run in its own way and bears little relation to the outside world - especially true in some of the wards I visited years ago in Brighton's main hospital which had no windows and so looked the same on a brilliant summer's day or in the middle of a wild winter's night. Very confusing.

We left and hit all the evening traffic going home which meant that it was a very slow journey out of the town centre. We did though have Stephen singing along with the words to New York, New York and a few other Sinatra songs of which he'd recently learnt the lyrics!

Auntie Joan is lovely and very different to my own Mum despite being close in age. She calls me "mate", a term I don't think I've ever heard my own Mum use to address me or anyone in the whole of my life.

Visiting family

Yet more box unpacking and then we went off for a lovely social evening with Chris's sister-in-law (I think) and her mum who live in Wickham Bishops which is about 20 minutes by car from us.

I find the names of the correct family relations (nephew, niece and so on) hard enough to remember at the best of time but with so many friends of Chris's entering my life at once I lose track quite often. I'm sure I'll gradually improve.

Birthday!

Today is Christopher's birthday so I naturally made tea and took it to him in bed along with a card and a small gift - he liked both of them and the card is still on display some time later as I write (as I said, this is a bit retrospective!).

All in all a very relaxed and lazy day with some tasty food later on.

Books

Today we assembled my reclaimed wooden bookshelf in the back bedroom (well, it doesn't have a bed in it but we have to call it something), allowing all those piles of book boxes to be emptied, removed and flattened. This now meant that other boxes from the lounge could go up there in their place and we now have an almost box free lounge! Fabe.

Chris clearly loves making fires in the fireplace. Squiggle the cat sits and stares mournfully into a cold dark fire grate waiting for heat to return... I think Chris will soon be making her a happy cat.

Boxes, boxes everywhere

What a mess!

We'd slept the night with the mattress on the bedroom floor but today was bed assembly day. Ahh .. that's better. Had to be rather careful though with the lower ceilings and those long pieces of MDF.

Next big task, after breakfast of course, was to clear enough stuff from the lounge so that we could actually find a place to spread a handkerchief and perhaps, more to the point, assemble the sofabed. I have a Knole sofa which is a little curious but does make you feel very snug with the sides up and here you can see it assembled and with Chris next to it emptying boxes of books onto the bookshelf.

The plan is to sleep on the sofabed when the fire is going at the end of the night rather than sloping off to a chilly bedroom when we've already got snug in the cosy lounge. I'll let you know ...

Later that night it was off for a well earned easy evening with food and fun supplied. In other words, we went to the pub! Our little village, like so many others in England no longer has any of its original shops but does still have a church and two pubs and conveniently our cottage is about halfway between both of them but it was The Chequers to which we went tonight.

I had been to the pub when visiting Chris earlier in the year but now it was my local. It's a pub I'd happily visit even if I had to travel several miles so it's a real bonus having it on our doorstep (Hmmm - is that a bonus?). Tonight it was cosy and inviting, packed with people, a log fire burning in a large metal box fire with folding doors. We settled down with our beers after ordering some food and shortly afterwards joined in the evening's pub quiz which happens every Thursday night. We named our team as "The Two Poppadums" as the barmaid said that she'd charge the cost of the quiz to our tab as two poppadums! If it works for them ...

So, there I was after the first full day in my new home in a great pub with a roaring fire, good beer and food and the most beautiful and gorgeous man at my side. Happy indeed.

The only downer of the evening was not winning the quiz, but there's always next time. We could of course have been knocked off kilter by the jokes of Phil the landlord. I have a couple here taken from the seemingly never ending stream of them from his iPhone (Health warning - this is not Brighton and the Politically Correct approach has not yet taken hold here. Yet):

An Irish man has a new girlfriend and he's in her bedroom looking through her clothes drawers and find a nurse's outfit, a  policewoman's outfit and a school mistress's outfit. Shocked, he goes downstairs and storms out of the house saying to her as he leaves "If you can't hold down a job then I'm not interested!"

Did you hear about the man who put helium in his blow up doll so that it plays hard to get?

On these edifying thoughts I'll leave you for now...

Moving in with Chris

(I am only almost 3 months late posting this, but better late than never ...)

Today, the 14th of December 2011 was the day of the move from Brighton, my home for the last 29 years. It was quite a shock and yet not. Chris had been down for about three days prior to the move to offer practical and emotional support and was great with both.

There were still boxes to pack right up until the arrival of Smooth Movers who would be carting all my stuff away. The ability of the movers to lift and carry, on their own, furniture and boxes for which I would need a helping hand never fails to amaze me and working at quite a speed they had everything of mine packed into the back of their van by 10am and were heading off for Essex and we were about to follow them.

Two things did not come along for the ride ... My gorgeous, and ever growing six year old Kentia Palm which simply would not fit in my new home without vicious pruning - luckily my friend Grae has offered to look after it until such times as I do have the room. The other thing was my pair of QUAD ESL-63 speakers which have also had to go into safekeeping, for the same reason as the palm, until the hopeful day of reunion. I've had these magnificent loudspeakers since 1987 and they are sorely missed.

Leaving Brighton was a strange experience. I cried from Seven Dials until we had driven down Dyke Road and onto the bypass and then out onto the A23. I cried thinking of the people I may never see again, and all my friends that I would not see for some time. I cried for streets down which I'd walked and cycled over decades that I would now walk along, if at all, as a visitor. No more fabulous coffee and socialising in the Red Roaster, no more books borrowed from the modern Jubilee Library, no more iconic Duke of York's, no more pier, no more Sussex Downs, no more lovely organic goodies from Infinity Foods and the weird and wonderful shops of the North Laine. I was especially aware of never again being a member of the Rainbow Chorus to which I'd belonged and had been such a big part of my life for 10 years and the extraordinary Brighton and Hove Green Party of which I'd been a member since 1985.

But out on the road, I was starting a new life with Chris. Chris is the man I'd met four months ago to the day and who had captured my heart leading to my decision that I had to leave Brighton to live with him as it really made no sense for him to move to Brighton. Apart from a brief stop at the infamous Clackett Lane services on the M25 we journeyed onwards to the cottage only to find that we had kept those Smooth Movers waiting for 30 minutes! The shame ...

Steve and Kemba began unloading without further ado and we felt so useless as they refused all offers of help whilst they carried crazily heavy loads upstairs to the study or bedroom. My two drawer filing cabinet which I would have emptied, carried the cabinet up then one drawer and then the other was carried upstairs in its entirety! Amazing. Then suddenly it was all inside and our two very friendly (and strong!) removal men were gone and Chris and I were together in our new home which now looked like an Essex outpost of Big Yellow Box Storage. There were now two people's stuff in a cottage which had previously held just one's - it's a tight squeeze ...

We managed to clear a space in the lounge from most of the boxes and put things roughly where they were intended to live permanently. After that, it was of course time for tea and Chris lit the fire - he had been waiting through some of the colder days for my arrival so that it would be lit when I was here, symbolically creating the heart of our home once I'd arrived. He's just gorgeous like that!

Later on it was a gorgeous bottle of R. Pouillon Champagne to celebrate (thanks Henry!) from the wonderful Butler's Wine Cellar, which thankfully does free delivery for crates ...

I'd arrived. My new life with Chris began this day. I am so excited.