Rowan Tree and Red Thread

Peter Watts speaks his mind (and good sense) on the CRU email leak and surrounding blogosphere typhoon. More here at Real Climate.

Good to see people speaking up for the public recognition of scientists as human like anyone else.

Rowan and I had a fun exchange while she got ready for bed.

"Who travels through Space and Time wearing a sheet?" Rowan asked.

"Doctor Boo!"

I retaliated with "who travels through Space and Time in a big sticky pot? Doctor Glue!"

Inevitably, after a few further exchanges Rowan hit upon the brown smelly Timelord and we dissolved in giggles.

Well, that was good. Loud, but good.

I felt the bass was a little overpowering in places, drowning out the vocals at one point, but the overall effect was impressive. I found myself oddly moved by the darker instrumental stuff early on and then swept along with the crowd when the big numbers hit.

Rockin'.

Alaimacerc will regret missing this one, I'd say, but perhaps not the tiny seats in the Olympia. My, they're wee. He'd have to fold up like an Origami Scotsman to wedge himself into these seats.

We're in the Olympia Theatre, Dublin waiting for Ultravox to play. I have a VERY excited sammywol beside me. More after the gig, I expect.

Last night we got out Cleopatra and the Society of Architects, the last of my pre-Christmas games buying splurge. It was in fact a freebie from Days of Wonder when I bought Ticket to Ride: Europe and TtT: the Card Game.

There was a lot of setting up to do. This is a game that's unafraid of bits. We got started and at heart it's a pretty simple game. Take cards or spend cards and build parts of the temple. I liked the vaguely San Marco style spreading out of the cards after you've chosen, leaving tempting stacks of corrupt cards for others to worry about.

We trundled along, not in the one hour play time on the box of course, feeding our pyramids with the corruption tokens. I was screwed for mosaics and only managed one 5-point sanctuary. The other two grabbed 12 and 10 points of sanctuaries, the bastards.

And suddenly we ran out of palace pieces and it was over. Unsurprisingly I was eaten by the sacred crocodile and scored nothing with all my hard earned talents. I hope my architect's family were well cared for.

Final scores were: Myles 77 talents and 10 corruption amulets, Sammywol 70 talents and 3 corruption amulets and Alai 54 talents and 0 corruption amulets (the lily-white chap actually had sanctuary spaces unused). A good win for Sammywol.

This game had the feel of a French design, with lots of chrome and funny bits. I'm not sure it's good enough to warrant the set-up time (and breakdown time is long too), but it was interesting enough in play. I could see the market mechanic for distributing cards used gainfully in another game.

In other news I appear to have caught the sun on my shiny pate today after a trip to the beach. In April? I fear this nice weather is the best we'll see for the year.

I finished Tim Harford's new 'popular economics' books a couple of days ago. Another enjoyable economist's take on a multitude of human behaviours explained with a light touch by Harford much as in his earlier book 'The Undercover Economist'. A bit depressing in places, for example the underlying economic incentives to sexism and racism, and published too early to have any real examination of the recent market crashes and recession/depression/end of the world.

Good fun in all, and Harford is an author I'll watch in future.

[He appeared on the Colbert Report recently for those interested, particularly in oral sex and Pepsi. I don't have the link to hand from my phone, unfortunately.]

BB was wakeful and annoying again last night. Sammywol took the brunt of it and didn't get back to bed until after 5.00 am.

We need to break this stupid habit he's developed before he's sold to the next passing Jehovah's Witness. All suggestions gratefully accepted.

I'm home from work to mind the kids. Their mother's in bed, tucked away to help recover from some vomiting bug.

I have a cup of tea. I'm sitting on the steps in the garden watching the kids play, puttering about getting into everything.

It's a very pleasant afternoon, for me at least.

I was on a half day off work today, and met up with a timber specialist to take a look at a couple of things at the new house that had to be checked before we continue with the purchase. It all seemed okay, nothing show-stopping, though, perhaps unsurprisingly, it seems to have shrunk since I saw it last. I think that's just buyer's remorse showing up ahead of schedule.

After that I walked into town, got rained on and eventually ended up in Waterstones where I had a little accident. Damn them and their 3 for 2 offers! I came away with Alastair Renyolds latest, that Lindqvist vampire novel I'd heard good things about and Tim Harford's latest economics explains everything book, The Logic of Life.

On top of those I also plonked the Collected Bone, the single volume complete run of Jeff Smith's Bone comics. Lordy, that's one fat book. But it's also one graphic novel I won't read in a single sitting, so I feel I'm getting better mileage out of it.

I then staggered home, my rucksack full of books.

It looks like the restaurant Little India on Washington Street has closed. Damn. I'll miss that place.

Our neighbour just told us he and his wife have signed the contract for the purchase of our house. Yay! Movement at last, and in the right direction too!

Just stood for about 10 minutes in a customer queue in BofI waiting for any sign of movement. Eventually one of the cashiers took the initiative to ask if she could help anyone in the queue. The extent of the help was however only to confirm that we were in the right queue and to provide us with forms. At 15 minutes I gave up and headed to meet Sam to take Oscar while she whisked round Tescos.

And this on my day off 'cos fuck knows they wouldn't be open at a useful time.

Great few days. Flat tyre, 6-year-old suddenly teenaged in her sulkiness, leaking dishwasher, repaired tyre flat again, and a baby boy up and wide awake at 5.15am.

I need a fucking break.

Sometimes I wonder if my life isn't just a tiny bit dull. Here's one side of a phone conversation I overheard as it was shouted down a mobile phone on the street as I strolled by.

"He proposed to me last night."

"I turned him down. And the guy I've loved since I was sixteen has gone to Australia."

"So I've bought a ticket and I'm going out to tell him how I feel. I have to."

"I'll bring my daughter."

"I'm posponing my exams and I'll do them in the Autumn."

"I know! It's like something out of Eastenders."

I just saw a seal swimming in the Lee near the Beamish & Crawford brewery.

Spirits lifted!

Tonight just as my daughter was finishing her shower the power went in the house. All electricity out, I dried Rowan off in the dark as sammywol examined the trip switches. All remained closed and we rang the ESB.

So here we wait - in the dark - for an electrician to appear. I hope it's not something that will require either digging up the pavement or digging into our savings. I'm already wincing at the pensions levy today.

This is a cracker of a story. Stroud introduces Bartimaeus, a 5000 year old djinni, cynical, arch and fond of footnotes. This poor unfortunate djinni gets tangled up in the plans of one Nathaniel, 12 year old apprentice with a grudge and a line in spectacular bad luck.

The two confront a conspiracy to overthrow the magicians ruling England. Given that neither the would-be conspirators nor the incumbent magicians are exactly pleasant human beings it's good that Stroud keeps the focus tight on Bartimaeus and Nathaniel and we follow their trials and troubles to a satisfying conclusion.

Clearly the character of Bartimaeus is the high point of this book. He's a loveable liar, self-agrrandising and resentful, but terribly funny and sarcastic about his 5000 years of interactions with the dumb and greedy humans he has had the misfortune to have known.

I'll be buying The Golem's Eye, the second in the series, soon.

Big thanks to fjm and chilperic for the recommendation. Much appreciated.

I'm hoping that future Bartimaeus novels tell us more about the rotten political system that rules England. The magitocracy(?) in charge is corrupt, arrogant and should be heading for a fall. I'm sure our pal Bartimaeus would be happy to give it a push.

[Also read as a bedtime story last night for the first time The Bears of Hemlock Mountain by Alice Dalgliesh. Just scary enough to get DD worried but a satisfying end quickly allayed any 'devoured by bears' fears.]

I've been reading The BFG to my daughter over several nights, with a break in the middle for some shorter books that meant it's been several days since we last opened it.

That changed over the last two nights as we read the great scenes of the BFG meeting the Queen, and the resulting comedy at the palace before the final excitement of the capture of the 'human bean eating giants'.

Great fun and a handy excuse for to try out various comic accents as I read aloud.

Well this has been a long night. BB has been up pretty much since 1.45am and has his parents worn down to paper-thin wraiths. I feel like I've been bearing the One Ring for too long.

I have no idea what is up with the little blighter. I hope it passes soon.

I never knew a Dalek bubble bath would be so much fun.

Tonight at bathtime Rowan asked to play with the plastic, Dalek-shaped bottle of bubble bath sitting on the shelf since Christmas. It proved an instant hit and was dubbed 'baby Dalek'. Unfortunately baby Dalek, like many youngsters, has poor impulse control and it disintegrated Baby Born (hooray!), some plastic ducks and half of our street.

Oh well.

Now I'm being informed it's not really an exterminator but rather a foodinator and it's eating its way through the duck food.

Hungry baby Dalek!