The last working day before the start of the academic year I was just sitting in my office, working away, when I heard feet approaching. David, the Head of School, appeared, together with my colleague Dei. David started to point around. It became clear that he wanted Dei to move into my office, and me to move out. Into Dei's office would make sense. It did fall out of the sky, though! It wasn't quite clear tome why. My office is way too big for one person, even for someone as senior as Dei. But would someone as senior as Dei be expected to share? That would be highly unusual.
I am taking an old module back again! It was the first I had even been module leader on. And my first full lecture. The previous year, James has taught it. Now it was my turn again! I'm talking about 'Ice and Oceans'.
In the olden days, the students got some 11 or 12 lectures, and a day in the field. They would also have to do an assignment in which they would have to rummage through the most recent IPCC report, looking for information. And they would have to write an essay. The IPCC work tended to be done badly.
My colleague Tom, who also teaches on this module, had suggested we change the assessment of the module. He said the students were unhappy about having to write an essay before they do the 'science communication' module. In that they practice essay writing. They do that in the first year as well, but somehow that doesn't seem to count. He suggested we scrap the essay, and replace it with an exercise that will train the skills they need for the IPCC exercise. And I figured we may as well!
It was me, of course, largely making the assignment. Tom is good at organizing things that way. But that way I can do what I think is right. I had already designed a lot of questions in early spring, but now it was time to make some more, and turn them into an online test.
The test is in two parts; one part by Tom in which he just tries to get the students thinking about, well, ice and oceans. And then my part in which they get ask very specific questions on specific journal articles. I see students be sloppy with data way too often! Giving the wrong reference, getting the number wrong, giving a seasonal average while claiming it is an annual average, and so forth. So now they have to be precise to get the right answer!
So will this work? We will have to see. Many things can go wrong! But they may go right too. We will have to see!
On Friday I worked until I had to donate blood, and then came back to the office for a few things I needed to do, and went home. I intended to not think of work at all; only go through my Casualty Care stuff again. I had read the book a few times, and attended four training sessions. I should be ready! I had also found an old exam online and gone through that. That helped! I looked some last things up and had another look at the medication list. That's hard to remember...
On Saturday I drove to the old school of Capel Curig where the exam would be. I got a cup of coffee, and learned I would first do the 'moulages' (scenarios) in which you have to sort out one trauma patient and one medical one. Good! These can be a bit nerve-racking. The theoretical exam did not scare me.
When I was called into the kitchen for my first moulage I found a man on the floor, moaning. The had allegedly slipped an fallen some four meters, and his knee hurt like hell. Oh dear! But I went through the scenario I had been taught: I checked him all over, and then covered his wound, splinted his leg, and gave him pain relief. Other than the knee he was fine! Then I was sent out.
Soon one of the medics came out: I had passed this one! Excellent!
I had to wait for a bit and then I did my medical scenario. It concerned a man who was known to be an asthma sufferer, who had become terribly short of breath. He had just sat down and that is how I found him. He confirmed he had asthma, and when I asked him about his reliever he said he had run out. Well that explained things. As he had only sat down he would have no injuries. I just gave him oxygen and salbutamol; the reliever he had run out of. He was starting to feel better!
When I was called back in I heard I had to re-sit that one. I had not done any damage to this man; I had actually improved his situation. But I hadn't fully checked him over. And I think it is a bit weird to check people for neck wounds and laryngial trauma (among other things) if you know they are only short of breath and have not fallen or bumped into something or anything like that. Oh well! If that is what makes you pass an exam...
Now it was time for tea and biscuits. And then the theory exam! That started a bit difficult but got better. There were some six questions (of forty) that I wanted to get back to at the end. I decided on all of them, with varying levels of confidence, and handed it. More loitering with other candidates followed! And we loitered happily; after a while Glynne, the man in charge of this entire course, came out and said we had all passed the theoretical part. Good! Time for lunch.
After lunch the scary bit followed: re-doing my medical moulage. This time it was a man with a heart attack! He, too, had just sat down when he didn't feel so good. But I had learned my lesson and checked him over for the compulsory stuff. No wounds, no laryngial trauma, none of any of that, strangely enough. I gave him aspirin and oxygen and morphine. In hindsight I could have left the oxygen, but well, it doesn't do much damage. Then I handed him over to the paramedic who appeared.
When the lady who had lead this scenario came get me she gave me a hug. She told me I had passed! That meant I had passed all of it! Hurrah!
I went back in to check what I had had wrong in the theory exam; only three questions, and all of them had been ones I had been uncertain about. Two of them involving children! Oh dear.
I helped clean up, thanked the people who had taught and judged us, and said goodbye tot the rest. I would get my certificate later. I was glad I had passed! Now I will have to keep it up. Ogwen Mountain Rescue said I was welcome to train with them. That sounded good! They are a nice bunch. And let's just hope I can keep my head cool if I ever have to really use it!
When the academic year approached I was less ready than I had hoped. I had been redesigning lectures, mainly; I also needed to get the websites ready, check the exams, make a new assignment, sort out a practical (more about that later) and suchlike. It got a bit busy! And with a wedding weekend just before Welcome Week, homely tasks had also been piling up.
I decided to skip Monday climbing so I could finish the things I would have wanted to finish on Sunday but hadn't. Then on Tuesday I went to the first Welsh class of the year. On Wednesday I went to the last Casualty Care training session; on Thursday I bailed out of the underground trip so I could stay in the office a bit later, and then do homely things (laundry, and writing my sister a letter) before going to bed early. I wanted to be fresh on Friday for the last full working day before things would properly kick off on Monday, and also on Saturday for the Casualty Care exam!
I did that exam (more about that, too, later) and went fro there straight to the office. I stayed there until 18:30 or so, but I got done what I wanted to get done! That meant I had the Sunday off.
Now the teaching will start properly. I have two lectures back-to-back on Monday. It will be good to get back into it again! And let's hope all goes well!
I never before had much to do with Welcome week (or Freshers' week). The most I had done was deliver a so-called taster lecture during freshers' week. It's fun! It is one of these times when you don't have to think about learning outcomes and what is in the exam and how it connects to other modules: you just teach what you feel like. But this year would be different, with my new responsibility.
Another change was that this academic year, I would have tutees from the beginning. Last year I took over James' in the second term. Now I got a group at the very start! And they get to meet their tutors on the first day. My new group is a nice bunch! And they seem a bit less shy than last year's batch. I look forward to working with them!
Before I got to see them I was preparing for the new term in my office. About three times, some Head Peer Guides appeared with an issue of sorts. I tried to addrress it all! I have to think on my feet as I have never done this before but I think it all worked out.
On Tuesday the Head Peer Guides got on with it. I did get an email, though, during the first Welsh class of the year. Oh dear! There was an issue from the last day that hadn't gone away. On Wednesday I tried to sort it. It was a lot of mailing and texting and phoning around.
Then Thursday came and things got better; it was the day of the annual beach trip. I had never joined before, but lots of other people had: the Head Peer Guides, of course; the two technicians who came as support; and David who came to photograph the event. So I didn't have to do much! My biggest job was juror in the sand castle competition. The freshers are divided in groups and have to make a marine-themed sand sculpture; the staff judge them. They have to tell the story of their sculpture. There were sharks, octopuses, mermaids and whatnot; the winning sculpture, however, was rather unusual in both that is was a living person on a sand throne, and that the person depicted one of my colleagues as an insane homicidal maniac with magic powers. The colleague in question would have seen the humour in that and they won.
Early in the day, it was quite overcast. Here the students have been subdivided into sand sculpture groups.
The winning sculpture
After the scultpures the students did a tug-of war. Quite a lot of the teams were very competitive!And in the meantime, the weather improved. It got really sunny! The jacket went, and so did the jumper; sunglasses took their place (or at least a nearby one).
The second-last task set was to take a big PVC pipe with holes in, place it in the sand, and fill it up with sea water. That means: preventing the water to percolate through the sand, plugging the holes, and somehow carrying water from the sea (they can't use bottles or suchlike). It is essentially a team-building exercise. Many wellies were filled up with sea water!
Plugging the holes with sea weed
Filling your wellies with sea water
The last task was marine pictionary. Then it was done! People were free to loiter for a bit, until it was time to get back to the buses. It took a while to verify we indeed had everybody; then the day was over. As far as the freshers were concerned, though. I went back to the office! A lot to do.
On Friday I saw them all for the last time; there was a programme that included a person from the Student Union talking about, well, the Student Union; a person from the Sustainability (you can guess what she talked about), and then taster lectures. As said before; they are just lectures about something pertaining to Ocean Sciences that you feel like talking about. I enjoy doing my lecture. I had also roped in the Head of School, and two (other) biologists. One had volunteered; that was Sarah, a cephalopod behaviourist; and James, who studies charismatic megafauna like dolphins. You can guess why I asked him!
When the taster lectures were over, the Head Peer Guides would tell the students some more useful stuff. I was off, though! I gave them all a hug and left. I think it was a good welcome week! And yes there is still an issue to sort out, but well, that's minor as far as I am concerned. And all Head Peer Guides were quite knackered by now, but they go out pretty much every night and I don't. And next week we'll evaluate the whole thing! I hope all agree with me it went well...
In Norway there is some strange law that says you have to give job applicants information on who else has applied. I assume there is a one month limit; when I applied for the job on Svalbard the deadline was August 15; I got the list of applicants on September 15th. So now I know! And three things were remarkable: first, that there were only 8 applicants. Second, that one of them was nowhere close to having the qualifications that were given as required. Some people will just try no matter what! But that's one down. And third: one I knew. He has worked here in Bangor before, and regularly comes back, for reasons of science, practicalities and friendships. I'm not sure if I can take the likes of him on! But one way to find out. It will take the Norwegians forever to make a shortlist. It would be nice if the chap I know and me are both on it; we could go and do some Svalbard scampering together maybe! I mailed him already and he thought it was a good idea. I'm sure we can resist the temptation to feed each other to the polar bears in order to reduce competition...
Longyearbyen. The big building on the left is the university building. Pic by Bjørn Christian Tørrissen
I had to first sort out how to get my hands free for it. I hinted before at that this wedding would fall within Welcome Week, which has a weekend component as during the weekend the students move in. I'm the peer guides' emergency contact! But I wouldn't answer phones in a wedding ceremony. My colleague Andy volunteered to cover for me. What a sweetheart! So I could go.
I drove up. When I got close I saw the landscape was beautiful. And so was the venue! Initially I didn't see anyone I knew so I just introduced myself to the first two people I saw. But then a man appeared: it was my friend Tom! It was great to see him again. And then I saw Owain. And Sian. Lots of familiar faces! Great! Nobody had changed a bit (except Owain having a beard now).
After a while the ceremony started. It was beautiful! I tend to reverberate strongly with social atmosphere, so in an emotional setting like a wedding ceremony I get swamped with feelings. As I did now! They were both very beautiful and very sweet.
Later there were pictures, and dinner, and speeches, and all the usual ingredients of a wedding. Lovely! I also greeted Abi's family; I had met her mother, of whom Abi had once said she has two settings: very happy and asleep. True, as far as I can tell! And now I also met her father. She looks like him! And he is a wheelchair user these days but clearly won't let that get him down. For his speech he stood up against the wall, upon which Abi barricaded him in with a chair so he wold be able to remain standing for the duration of his speech. It's such a cheering family. And now Adam, who has been described by Abi as having the face of a Quokka on the body of a seal, is joining them. He'll be quite happy I'm sure! And so will she.
Posing with the bride
After dinner there would, of course, be a ceilidh. Abi is (apart from a fisheries scientist and a school teacher) a folk fiddler. I like ceilidhs! Although most I have done were ceilidhs for the sake of ceilidhs, so everyone there wants to dance. Very easy to find a partner! But here everyone was there for the wedding, and dancers were harder to come by. The disadvantage of going to a wedding on your own! I had to miss quite a few dances due to lack of partner but, mainly thanks to the York bunch, I got to join enough of them. The last dance I even formed an inventive 'couple' of three with Tom and Sian. It worked!
The first dance
When the dancing stopped I started saying my goodbyes. It was getting late, I was tired, and I had to first drive to my accommodation and then all the way back the next day. And then snap into peer guide coordinator duties immediately afterwards. It was sad to say goodbye to all these folks. But it had to be done at some point!
I am sure Abi and Adam will have a lovely married life! And I hope to see them again. Not in the too distant future this time!
The new academic year is again upon us. And tradition has it there is the annual teaching conference just before it. I like seeing if anyone has some nice bright teaching ideas, and I also like making sure the teaching boffins don't forget me. And this year I was hoping to get my teaching qualification at the conference dinner; that's the occasion for it, with smartly dressed people and glamour and all of that. I knew (since May) I had passed but I hadn't heard since; would I even get one at all this year? I tried to find out what was going on but those supposedly in the know shrouded themselves in vagaries. And just the day before I finally had got some concrete information: I wouldn't get it now. She didn't know when I would.
I listened to some presentations. The practical applicability this year wasn't all too high, but at least there was food for thought. Not so much food for the stomach, though; it was a multi-tasking day with the lunch break being consumed by an SOS meeting about teaching. We did get time to go and quickly grab some food, but I would have gone for more liquids, and perhaps seconds, if I had had time... at least the meeting contained good news.
The keynote speaker in action
During the keynote lecture I was contacted by one of the underground men, who happens to be the person who prints the T-shirts for all the peer guides of the university. He had a second batch for me! The peer guides are on duty for an entire week, and wearing the same shirt for that amount of time, especially if nightclubs are a distinct possibility, can lead to interesting odours. I had failed to check that those who placed the order knew that. They didn't! Hence the late order. So that pulled me out of the conference again.
After the last plenary session I scampered to the main building, retrieved the original batch of T-shirts I had dropped off there, and took them to Pontio for a meeting with the peer guides. Nobody showed up. Oh dear. I texted a head peer guide; I was in the wrong building! Oh dear. And if you have enough T-shirts (I was carrying 56 polo shirts, and additional booklets, flyers, badges, and whatnot) it gets heavy! And where did I have to go to? The main building of course! But some peer guides approached me and helped me carry. Very sweet. And the meeting went well; the head peer guides have everything under control!
After the peer guide meeting I had some time before the dinner; I used it for drinking my body weight in water, and waxing my hair. I had washed it the night before, but then it should be waxed too; preferably before my two upcoming smart occasions. Then I was off to the venue. I biked up, went into the loos, and changed into a sparkly dress. I was ready! I immediately found my colleague Tom; the only other person from SOS that I knew would be there. We expected Lynda, a lady from geography, later.
Me being glamorous
It was a nice dinner! I had the veggie option and the starter was excellent. I was less keen on the next two courses but the starter had been so big I couldn't finish these anyway. And I could drink as I had come on bike. And it was nice to catch up with Lynda and Tom, and to meet the lady (from psychology) on my left. She was with her boyfriend who was a historian; I had met him before at teaching-related events. And he was a Welsh speaker! That's always nice.
A man from learning technologies, who is always willing to help me if needed, gets an award
After dinner the awards were handed out. Tom and Lynda did get one (two completely different ones, but still). At least I got to cheer for them! And as I had a wedding the next day I left when the awards were done. I wanted to get a good night sleep for the upcoming long day!
When I got home I found an envelope on the doormat. I was curious. It looked a bit like a certificate. And bloody hell, it was. That was a bit of a bummer! They clearly had it ready. Why not give it to me at the ceremony? That is so much more memorable. But at least I have it now. Will be good when applying for jobs!
There it is! Somewhat funny; a certificate of higher education in higher education...
Before our current dig was THE dig, there was the dig in a windy valley in the west. We had entered a mine at the bottom and steadily made out way up, in the end reaching a shaft or a winze (the difference is whether they reach the surface or not) that was filled up with loose gunk. We had had several sessions of digging out as much gunk as we could get to, and then leaving the place to itself for a while. The next time our digging action would have lead to destabilisation of the gunk, and more would have come down. The idea is that sooner or later the gunk will run out, and then we can happily clamber up and colonise that part of the mine too! And the last session had been a while. I had not been there (I had been in the other dig then) so I was keen to see what the situation was!
David had suggested this venue and not many people seemed keen. I did expect that; the place has a bad name. It is true there are two entrances, and one has crotch-deep cold water, and the other one has lots of stuff the farmer has dumped in, such as empty fertiliser bags, and sheep bones; one assumes the bones were connected to the rest of the sheep when they were placed in it. And the previous time, a fresh carcass was found. Doesn't do much for popular appeal...
We drove to the usual lay-by and were the first. We changed. Then a car appeared; it was Paul! I had hardly seen him since he had acquired a job on the Snowdon railway. He wouldn't come with us (he hates the place); he just popped by to say hello. Nice!
We went in (through the bottom entrance; that way avoiding the carcass) and clambered all the way up. With just two people there is hardly any waiting involved! We got to the top. I stuck my head in the bottom of our winze, and then made the rest of my body follow. There was even space enough for David to join me.
I knew David expected to find the shaft as good as empty, and showing the way on. He expected a side passage, and another winze from there. But there was nothing in sight. There was still a lot of gunk, all stacked against the far wall, and you could only see up to a big boulder. No side passages. And there is no reasonable way to safely dislodge a boulder from a position like that as you HAVE to work underneath it. Oh dear!
Looking up in the winze
We decided to just do what we always do: digging away all the gunk we could (safely) reach. After some hard work the pile of gunk started to throw stuff at us. Good; we've clearly destabilised it further! Time to go.
We had to kick everything down the next passage too; there is hardly any space here and you don't want to block you passage, or perch a big load of unstable gunk on top of a rope pitch. When that was done we made our way out. And early night! As usual, I didn't mind that... and we can only go back in another 6 months or so to find out if we have any change of getting to the next passage with our current method. If not; well, then we have had fun!
There is a sort of myth that once you work at the School of Ocean Sciences, you never leave. Maybe you leave for a while, only to come back, but nobody leaves for good. Except those who retire, of course. But James broke that myth. And he seems to have set something off.
The next person to leave was Kate. She saw another opportunity elsewhere and decided to leave the sinking ship. I took over her job as peer guide coordinator. Then Cara left, without even having a job to go to. I didn't have much to do with her but she is very nice. And now she's gone! We had a small leaving do for her.
Dei raises a toast to Cara
Two more have revealed they will leave; my office neighbour Andy, who is a marine biologist and a man heavily involved in recruitment and such, and Coleen, who has been a running mate and who since very recently has been married to Andy. They will seek their fortune abroad. That's five people leaving voluntarily! And I am replacing James but only for one more term; I don't think Cara and Kate have been replaced, and there are three professors about to retire and I suppose the policy is still to not replace people. But at this level of loss things would become unsustainable. There is already a bit of panic; who will do the jobs of all these people who leave?
On the Teaching Conference (write-up to follow) we had a small meeting with those who do teaching and no research. It was a bit of a sorry meeting in a way; it dealt with the future, but whose? Present were the Head of School; Dei, the teaching coordinator (I suppose this position has a better title but this describes things sufficiently), and all the available Teaching and Scholarship staff. One was not there due to maternity leave. That left Sarah (all good), Coleen (with two terms to go) and me (with one term to go). Strange bunch for a meeting on the future. But David, the Head of School, said he had indeed been given green light for hiring some people and would be advertising jobs in January or so. That's good news! And I am sure most of these jobs would be for biologists but one can hope...
It is important that we cater for students in all kinds of circumstances! So of course we cater for the standard white English 18-year-old. And for slightly unusual white English 18-year-olds. And non-white English 18-year-olds. And non-English students. And Students of any age. And people who are slightly unusual students of any colour, any nationality and any age. And I hope that means we do not only take their money but really welcome them. All the same? Well, no, that wouldn't really be catering for everyone, as not everyone is the same. We do, for instance, give mature freshers another mature student as a peer guide, as we think 18-year-olds are different from people in their late twenties (as quite a lot of the mature students are) and even more so from people beyond that age. And that is only one aspect of not being standard white English 18-year-old, and I will restrict myself to it, so already in this blog post I am not being particularly inlcusive as I ignore all people with, say, dyslexia, a wheelchair, a native language other than English, or the desire to pray five times a day, even on fieldwork, just to name a few. But one thing at a time. We want to welcome all students and give them the attention they need.
One of the things mature students more often have than 18-year-olds is children. I think it is important that having a child should not stop you from going to university. We can't make it easy to juggle a child and a university degree, as it would be impossible to make juggling only a child easy in the first place, but we should try to work it out with student parents if some difficulty arises.
Then I was faced with a peer guide who wanted to bring her child to Welcome Week activities that take place after school. And as said, I think that it is important we cater for students with children. And I understand you have to keep your rather young child under supervision somehow, after the school releases it, but this posed a bit of a n issue. She is a peer guide, she is here to guide the freshers! How much attention do you have for them if you are looking after your child? We should make an effort to show new students the way in their new life, and not have an overwhelming other priority. So how to be inclusive to both the peer guide-annex-parent AND the freshers she looks after? I tried to strike some balance. There actually aren't an awful lot of post-3PM-afternoon activities. There are two; we have deemed that the first one (a games and quizz session) is so child-friendly she can just take the kid; depending on how that goes we will see about the second one (crabbing on the pier). By then the head peer guides will know the freshers and can gauge their view on including children in such activities. 'We' by the way is the head peer guides, the university-wide peer guide coordinator, the college H&S man and me. I suppose life is all about such dilemmas! I both hope this was a good decision AND that I get better at this...
It was time for another long Saturday run! I would go and help Guy and Kate with painting their garden house though, so I didn't want to go too far away. Going on where I had left off last time on the coastal path would take too much time. I decided to just look for a nice loop on country roads nearby. I found a nice one near the Mona Showground. I drove to Gwalchmai, parked, and set off. I had brought the map and needed it to negotiate the actual village. I then overlooked a junction, but quite soon realised it, and corrected myself. After a while I came to a road to the right; I didn't think I needed that. That would be a fateful mistake. It actually was! But as I thought I remembered I didn't need that junction I just plodded on.
It was a nice day! Or rather, a nice part of the day. The landscape was unassuming but really beautiful anyway. I ran to a T-junction; that was as expected. Then I expected a right turn soon. It didn't come. Then I reached a bigger road. Oh dear! The map came out. Then I noticed I should have taken that right turn ages ago. No w I could only reasonably turn around and run the same way back. I didn't want to run along that bigger road!
I turned back. All was well. Then I suddenly saw a fox in the side of the road. It seemed to be running away from me. I moved closer, hoping to see it bolt across the field beyond, but it was still there. It seemed trapped! Oh dear. I couldn't quite see how and didn't want to approach too much; the fox would flail and charge and wrestle when I got close, and that tends to result in awful injuries in a trapped creature. I pondered a bit. What to do? I figured freeing it would require at least gloves and pliers. I don't carry those on a run. I ran on, got into the car, drove home, and googled animal rescue. After some faff I got through to the RSPCA. They wondered if the fox may have got away unaided. Could I get back to it? Eh, well, yes. I texted Guy and Kate I would be late. Then I packed a water bottle and something to read and got back into the car, this time parking close to the fox. It was still there! So I phoned the RSPCA again. They said they would send someone. I explained to them where it was; I had noted down the grid reference but they were working off Google Maps. Oh well, that works too. I explained where it was and waited for half an hour. The RSPCA person had said they couldn't say when an inspector would appear. I read for half an hour and then left. I got home and really quickly ate something (it was already 3PM!) and had a shower. Time to get to that garden house!
The road with the fox
When I was about to get onto my bike the phone rang. It was the RSPCA person! He struggled to find the fox. I guided him towards it. I had memorised quite well where it was, including landmark trees and flowers! I got him to it. I had thought the poor thing was caught in a fence, but it turned out to be a snare. The local farmer must have had fox-and chicken-issues! Oh dear. But the RSPCA bloke would not leave the poor creature there. Then he hang up and I went down the hill.
When I was explaining to Guy and Kate what the fox business was all about the phone rang again. He had freed the fox, who was unhurt, and had scampered off. Success! It was nice of him to phone me to confirm that. And then we could finally get on with that garden house. This day didn't go as planned, but a poor fox has been spared a lot more time in a terrifying snare! And the garden house got painted too! (Except for the ceiling as we ran out of paint!) And I still can do the route I had in mind in the first place...
We had three nights in the dig in a row! A luxury. The previous time we had not had explosives, so we had had time to drill lots of holes. This time we did have explosives, so we could go and fill all these shot holes and have (literally) a blast!
We went in and got started. I had suggested Miles charge the shot holes while I take the drill up and drill some more holes higher up. If we would blast all shot holes Miles had made the week before, the vertical passage would be wide enough for him; then it would be time to make the ceiling-parallel passage big enough too. So I lugged the heavy thing up. I had a look; I decided the first tight bit would be sorted by one well-placed charge in a ceiling slab that had come down. I drilled the hole and moved on. Then there was a sticky-outy rock; this one did serve a purpose as a landmark and as a barrier for rocks I would throw out of the working end to slide down and clog the passage lower down. I put a shot hole at a level where I thought I would be able to get past easier without it losing its barrier function. Then I moved on again.
I went to the far end. There was one slab on the side there that stuck out a lot. I gave that a shot hole too! Then I went into the hole I was digging. One rock on the side was in the way. I started drilling it, but it started to move! It slid onto my foot. Oh dear. Another reminder of why it is important to make sure Miles can get here. I managed without though, and got it off my foot without dropping it on my hand. I proceeded carefully! I had another rock in mind for drilling. This one stayed put but split. Oh well, if I can take it apart with the hammer function then even better I suppose. But then I heard Miles call. I went down to talk to him.
He had been loading the shot holes but was running out of resin. He figured he might go and get some more; there should be some at lake level. In the meantime I would make my lowest shot hole a bit deeper (Miles handed me the longer drill bit) and fill up the shot holes higher up. He handed me the stuff and vanished. I deepened the first hole and set out to charge it. I had to first blow the drill dust out of it; Miles had handed me the blow tube. But it was blocked! Oh dear. I had a look; there was resin in both ends. Miles, what did you do to that thing? With a pointy bit of slate I managed to unblock the one end. The other end was more of an issue! This just wouldn't work. I went down. I knew we had a knife there; I would have to cut off the end!
I tried not to cut off too much; in the end I had an opening again. A narrowed one but maybe it was enough. I also brought some more charges up; I would need a really short one and Miles had not given those to me. I went back up and tried again. The blowing power wasn't enough yet. Oh dear! I blew out the first hole without the tube, charged it, and stemmed the hole with the last resin we had. The nozzle had clogged up so I had to use a new one. This wasn't going very efficiently.
Then I heard Miles return. He hadn't found any resin! He had found the other Thursdaynighters, though. That's nice too! And I remembered we had some stemming in Generator Chamber. Miles went to get it. And to unblock the tube. I spent my time trying to open out a passage at a right angle from the original one; there was a big open space I could see. Maybe it was cool to explore? And if stuff would go wrong, maybe it could be an emergency exit.
Miles came back and I was back on. I filled all the shot holes we had left, and then it was time to set them off. We would start at the top and work our way down! I couldn't link the two top ones (too far apart) so I had to do only the very top one. I clambered down and set it off. We then had a coffee. Then it was time to wire up the next one! It was tiny; I just went around the corner and shouted to Miles he could go and set it off. Nothing happened! Oh dear. I checked the wire. All good! WTF? Oh well, we had the whole lower batch to go so let's forget about that one and move on to those. Time was running out!
I wired up all the lower charges (only the ones in the vertical passage; the other one didn't reach either) and went out. Miles would set of this round. He checked the resistance; that was, as expected, a lot. Then he pressed 'fire'. Nothing! Of course not; he hadn't charged the detonator. What is that; Miles not being able to blast? I asked him if that was why the previous blast hadn't worked. A guilty grin appeared on his face. That was enough answer. He charged the detonator and tried again; success! Then we did a final round in the slab that had come out of the ceiling a few weeks ago. It was in the way. By then it was almost time to go; I stuck my head into the vertical passage and saw it was indeed nice and wide now. Good! We would have quite some tidying up to do though. Next time. When we could also set off the two left-over charges! But that wouldn't be in a while; Miles would go on holiday. And then when he would be back we could also finally bring down the dangly slabs at the entrance. If they haven't done it themselves by then!
It's September, the long summer of reasonably leisurely lecture preparation is over! Now I have to make sure all my module websites are updated, all assessment is designed, all organizatory (that's in the OED! Honest!) things are in order... It's a lot of faff but it's fun too. I tend to find it a bit like a juggling act, when you have to keep all these plates (of the various modules, the various module aspects, and the various other things on your plate) in the air. And it's still calm with no students around, but as soon as they appear I have to snap into action.And the meetings are already starting before that! So summer is over. Bring on my last term at Bangor University!
Normally, I visit my mother on her birthday. Last year I didn't; I came a week early because I thought I had a wedding on the day itself. I didn't! Wrong year. So this year I would have that wedding. And I'm involved in Welcome Week. Does that combine? Well, not really, but more about that later. First things first! My atypically early September visit to the Netherlands.
The Netherlands from the train
My main goal was, as usual, my mother, but while I was there I decided to see some more family. Only family this time; it was only a short visit, with term coming up and all. So I lined up my sister and her family, and my father and his wife too. No others this time!
Seeing my mother was as usual. That sounds unspectacular but it just always is good! And we tend not to do anything spectacular but I like just having a glass of wine together and catching up. And I tend to go for a run in the nearby woods.
The woods next to Amersfoort where I ran
Seeing my sister was pretty much as usual to; I just bumbled in at an arbitrary moment and was given a cup of tea. Family members appeared and disappeared, were bickering one moment and harmonious the next, were hyperactive or asleep, joined us on the moors or stayed in front of a computer, and all the sorts of things happening in a family of five. Including an increasing number of teenagers. They'll be back to school by the time I write this!
The moorland near where my sister lives
Seeing my father was not the usual thing; I wanted to take the opportunity to continue the recent developments in forcing a closer bond. Only recently my father had visited me, together with my sister, to discuss some things that had not gone entirely well in the past. I never used to talk deep things with my dad. But now the process has been started (thanks to my sister) and I like it! This time we went for a walk near the Oldenaller mansion (near Putten). It was lovely weather, the walk was beautiful, and the discussion good! I'm liking this new version of fatherhood.
An unexpected beauty we encountered on our walk - a water buffalo!
Soon it was over again! And I headed to the airport again with cheese and hagelslag (chocolate sprinkles) in my bag. And the usual dose of good memories. My last foreign travel until term hits!
I had asked Miles to take me in through the Smoke Flue; I had only been in it once before, and I couldn't remember where you come out if you go in that way. That also means I couldn't find the way out to it. And it's locked, but still. And so that was our way in! Now I know.
View from the entrance of the smoke flue
The smoke flue itself
When we got to the dig we saw the two scary dangly slabs
were still there. And Miles had brought a rod to support a rock that
needed supporting. He started out putting that in place while I went up
to the far end.
I started to tidy up in the open space near the working end. I pretty much have to throw everything I get out of the growing passage into it, but that clogs up my exit! And when I figured it was tidy I went on trying to make progress. I started with my bare hands. Then I brought in the crowbar. Rather large rocks were willing to come down! Progress!
I came down to see how Miles was doing, and to have a cup of tea. The rod was preliminarily in place! And now he was tidying up at the bottom. But he was up for a cuppa too.
After the break I suggested he take the drill and start working on making the vertical passage bigger, so he fits through. I am a bit nervous about working there night after night without him being able to get to me if things go wrong! And I was soon reminded of how easy that can happen; I was handling a rather large rock, and I almost dropped it on the fingers of both my hands. Oh dear! I sorted it, but imagine I do trap myself that way. I would really want Miles to be able to get to me and lift it off! So I was happy to hear him drilling behind me, and content to continue myself with only a crowbar. There is a lot you can do with just that!
After a while I figured it might be time to come out. I turned around and could see the Drill! Miles was at the ceiling. Excellent! If he can get to the ceiling-parallel passage next week we are doing well.
The current state of the far end
We went out (the usual way) and into the moonlit night Nice! And Miles' car had some issues and was down at the parking lot so we walked back down in said moonlight. It's such a beautiful place! And next time we'll probably be able to bring the scary slabs down. That would be good!
Success! I fought off the debt collectors. That was the people who were after me for an energy bill from my Plymouth address, but from the time after I had left. I sent them letters from my York and Bangor letting agencies which confirmed I had rented from them when I had. Then they fell silent. I gave them a week; then I mailed them again, saying I expected them to confirm they had the wrong person, and back off. As so far they had not really paid heed to what I had told them I added that I had already downloaded the code of conduct of the Credit Services Association (which these people were a member of), and a complaint form. Which was true! I knew I could challenge them on various points in that code of conduct document.
A few days later I received an email; they accepted the energy bill was not mine and they would contact me no more. Hurrah! Justice at last. It's a bit typical of me; if I get a letter like that I get a bit upset, but give me enough time to ponder the situation I get assertive. And assertive enough! I'll keep that email; who knows, they might try again in a few years...
I like going underground! And I like the people I tend to go underground with. But I don't like being shouted at. And unfortunately, I do get shouted at underground. A lot. And it's always David. And as long as he refrains from shouting I am quite fond of him. But he shouted at me at the beginning, and he shouts at me still. I am sure it has got more frequent; maybe he's stressed about his job? The more he shouts at me the more it hurts. It's like being punched in the same place again and again. The first one doesn't hurt too much, but it gets worse and worse. I tend to leave the shouting out of my trip reports but sometimes I include it, like here and here. And I haven't manage to do anything about it in general. There was one trip in which I addressed him after the shouting and said he hadn't made things better by his behaviour and that helped. But I had also twice addressed a particular kind of shouting (the kind in which he talks to me in acoustically unsuitable conditions, upon which I can't hear what he says, and he then gets angry with me for not responding to what he says as he had intended), and offered a suggestion as to how that could be avoided, and never got much more than an angry shrug in return. How to deal with this? It's scary to let your guard down and tell someone they cause you pain, if you know there is a 50/50 chance they'll only make it worse. But don't let your guard down and you're not getting anywhere.
One evening David sent out an email. Was anyone interested in a trip the next day? I mailed I was, but that I would have dinner with Jaco and Marjan at six so would have to be home by then. That didn't leave much time. David suggested a trip starting about an hour away, meeting there at 1PM. I figured I would have to leave at 4.30; by that time the trip would only have got started. I mailed I then wouldn't come. He then reacted a bit peeved; he figured 3.5 hours would be well long enough. But if I had any better ideas I should offer them. I found that rather aggressive but one knows me; I prefer to avoid confrontation. I suggested noon. No answer came. Then it was bedtime.
The next morning there still was no mail, so I emailed again, checking what the situation was. Noon or 1PM? He said nobody had responded to that suggestion so he considered it off. Eh, OK. That's me out, again, then. But then Don suddenly started mailing; he wanted a trip and he wanted is ASAP. Eh, OK, again. I figured that if David now still wanted me for this trip he had to ask; I would not volunteer. But he did mail. I agreed. But then when I had just packed my bag, I got another message. David mailed his patience was stretched so he didn't want to share cars. David with self-confessed diminished patience! And only Don to dilute his company! I bailed out there and then.
I spent the day studying for my Casualty Care exam instead. Not so spectacular but at least peaceful! And I knew I would go and see David the next day to see what the damage was.
When I came in he smiled like normal. It wasn't normal. I have never before bailed on an underground trip specifically to avoid him. We bickered a bit about who had said what and how, but then the phone rang. He had to answer. I left.
Later that day I came back, with a cheesecake offering of peace. He accepted it. I said in the meantime I had looked at his mails again and maybe they weren't as aggressive as they had seemed. But that still didn't solve the shouting issue! And I know he is barely aware of it; there was a period in which I really hoped that week would be the week he wouldn't shout at me. And it never was. Until one Thursday it was. Having something to do with me going off towards the entrance early, and being away from his company for well over an hour, but still. In the car on the way back I thanked him for it, but he was all puzzled. Him, shouting? He didn't know what I was talking about. And if you don't know you are doing it you're not going to stop! So now we have agreed that next time he shouts at me I tell him he's shouting at me. And then I hope it will stop. Stay tuned! I hope it works...
I'm sure I've made a cheesecake before! In my youth, probably. But not since. I think. But I would have dinner with Jaco and Marjan again, and the visiting party always bring dessert. And I like cheesecake! So I figured I'd give it a go. I googled a recipe and it didn't look complicated. The recipe was for vanilla, but I figured I could add any theme I felt like. And I thought of hazelnut and banana.
I made it after my Sunday walk, while also cooking at the same time. I completely forgot to take pictures! But I did not forget the finished product. It was appreciated by my hosts! I personally thought the cheese-stuff should have been a bit firmer, but it tasted good. But as we had already eaten ourselves quite full on focaccia we didn't even manage to eat half of it. But that's OK; I could bring it into work the next day!
I served it over lunch, and again it was appreciated. (All lunch-eaters were non-Brits so their judgement might have been honest rather than polite.) And then I had some left still!
I offered some to David as a peace offering (why this was a good idea will be revealed in the next post). It went down well! But he wasn't having much. I gave the rest to Guy, to take home, and eat with Kate. That cake went a long way! Maybe I should do it more often. But perhaps google some tips on easy cheesecake firmness...
This blog started as a tool to keep my Dutch friends informed on my whereabouts when I moved abroad. It quickly also became an external memory for my own use. It largely failed as a stage for discussions on whatever is worth discussing. And it has become a way of sharing my scientific knowledge with a lay audience. And who knows, it could become even more! And whatever it is you are looking for among all this: welcome.