Science blog

Things you don't categorise get messy. I should know; my mind isn't very categorical and I spend quite some time trying to compensate for myself. My blog started out as something quite undifferentiated, which worked acceptably well for five years, but the time has come to improve things. I have decided the place where I vent my private spleen should be different from where I vent my professional one. And I therefore hereby introduce my science blog: the Ocular Reversed. I will both recycle the scientific postings that have appeared on Margot's blog; I'll have to see to what extent I will rework them. And new scientific rants will appear only there. With a bit of luck it may attract readers that don't care about my private life, but are interested in my climatic (and related) thoughts. I hope many of the readers of Margot's blog will also deem the Ocular worth a look!

The scientific blog as it looked until recently

Make your mark

A new phase in my academic career has started. One that I still enjoy while I write these first lines of a blog post; by the time this posting is finished and published the joy has most likely faded into dread. I am talking about marking.

When staff and students return from Ireland the work is far from over. The students have to write all sorts of reports; they have to write a group report on the student-lead project they have done, and most have to do an individual report on one of the staff-lead projects they have done. Some have to also write a "reflective account" on the whole concept of fieldwork. Why is it not the same for all students? Thy are enrolled in different programs. Some do pure geography; some do physical geography and geology combined. And there's even a finer subdivision than that. But anyway; there are many reports to be marked, and these are equally distributed among the fieldwork staff. That means there is an incentive for the staff to come up with interesting projects: the more students that write reports on "your" projects, the fewer reflective accounts you have to mark. And the reflective account is, I guess, less popular with both students and staff: the assignment is much vaguer. It's much more inspiring to write about actual data you have collected in the field.

Extract from the course handbook on the "reflective account"

So a little over four weeks after the fieldwork I received the reports I have to mark. I had one report from each of my student-lead project groups, only one report on my staff-lead days (I must be one of the more boring members of staff) and then ten reflective accounts. And I figure the latter are the least inspiring, so I started with these. I think I can see it's not a favourite exercise; I heven't yet seen highly inspired reports. I can't blame them; it's a bit of a vague assignment. And I was a bit too pessimistic: I am reaching the end of thhis posting, and so far I have still been enjoying it.

Sometimes it's the joy of finding a passage that is especially well-written or well-constructed; sometimes it's te more cynical snigger of finding something downright outrageous. Such as? One of the students had meticulously documented his sources. As the text made me wonder if a reference was appropriate, and whether the source was accurately cited, I looked it up. And after the first reference I looked the rest up as well. Anticipation was high: what outrage would I find next? A lifestyle website quoted as a scientific source, a philosophic concept with a reference which turned out to be a dodgy online dictionary that didn't contain the word in question, and even the website of a church quoted as a scientific source.

Dear students: please give us only that first category of marking enjoyment. I admit, and how couldn't I? that the second makes for better anecdotes, but in the long run it's better for everyone if such things are avoided. And don't think we won't notice...

Voting; it comes in waves

On Thursday I voted. And less than 24 hours later, I received an invitation to register for the next elections. Thursday was the day of the English local elections; I can now register for the general elections in the Netherlands. I downloaded the form, and now I only have to add a copy of my passport and send it off, and everything will sort itself out from there.

That I got to vote in England again (I've been to church to cast my vote before, here in my street) means I've already been here a while; these were just the regular elections that take place every second year. I'm starting to grow roots here...

The Dutch elections are another matter; these take place all the time. It's been a while since Dutch governments had the habit of staying upright for a while. This one lasted much longer than I had anticipated; I wrote on this blog, in October 2010, that I gave them six months. They managed a whole year more! I hope that the next coalition inspires a bit more faith. And only has participants and non-participants; no parties half-participating as was the case until things fell apart a few weeks ago. Sometimes black and white form a nice colour palet. Even though I don't mean that in the way Geert Wilders does...

They leave little to chance at my polling station!

I challenge anyone to find a polling station with a more dejected crucifix! Though I must admit this is the nave of the church, while the polling station is in a side aisle. But still...

Observations: better late than never

I leave a trail of blood all over town. I mentioned it before: the bloodbank in the UK is not located in a building; it's a roadshow. And I follow that show around. Partially because if you wait until they are at a location near you you don't donate at a very high frequency, and partially because I think it's a charming way of exploring the city.

Not the cleanest donation

Last year I ended up somewhere in the northern parts of town; north of the dual carriageway that cuts through Plymouth. And there aren't many places where one can cross that road. So I took the roundabout that I also often taken by car. That means a lot of biking on roads that are not very comfortable for small vulnerable cyclists. I was even wearing a camera on my helmet; I was helping a colleague out with a small research project on cycling in Plymouth.

But when I later drove past that same roundabout with some caving friends, one of the more bike-prone ones mentioned there actually is a cycle path there. That sounded interesting! And while driving past on later occasions I indeed saw it; it is pendant below the road. But how does one get there?

I went to Edinburgh. And Ireland. And Norfolk. And I was a bit under the weather some of the time in between. Not much opportunity for donating blood. But now I'm back; I'm in town and I am in good health. Time to have other people share in that. And the next opportunity for donating was that same northern venue. So I had a good look at Google Maps; I managed to find the somewhat inconspicuous route to the path under the roundabout. And it continues; it snakes along the main road for a while. I needn't have biked so far along that dangerous road! I feel a bit guilty now; I didn't give Plymouth the credit it was due. But now I know, and if I ever go back in that direction I now know what route to take! Better late than never...

The pendant bicycle path

the Netherlands - a year later

My mother thought it was a splendid idea. Some weeks ago I wrote about my somewhat late realisation that science is a beautiful thing, but that one should not dedicate so much time to it it leaves none for family visits. And now I've started to festoon these words with concomitant actions! On a cloudy Friday afternoon I finally met her again; the previous time had been a year ago. Shameful! But better late than never.
When I was in the country anyway I visited my sister too. And all of her family. That tends to involve a lot of activities I don't otherwise engage in, such as game of the goose, or hide and seek. Of course I was wearing a bright red jacket while my competitors were wearing black or green.

The rest of the weekend was spent on tourism; on Saturday night, Hugh joined me. Is it a surprise he had a hand in making me do the right thing? Judge for yourself. He came straight from a big conference in Vienna (for the earth scientists: yes indeed, EGU), and had figured that of he was on the continent anyway, he might as well stop over in Amsterdam. He'd never been there, and now he had a chance to get himself a local guide. So for the first time in my life I would spend a night in an Amsterdam hotel! That was not an unequivocal pleasure: we were soon to find out why this hotel was vaguely affordable, in spite of being just north of the Stadhouderskade. But it was a roof over our heads.

Hugh's wishlist featured National and van Gogh museums in the top 2. That could be arranged. We also managed the Amsterdam Historic Museum, and Queen's day, and two of my favourite pubs (de Zotte and de Sluyswacht), and posh dinner in de Waag, and a few beers and amazing food with a select number of friends. Not a bad score! Next year we all have known each other for 20 years... that's worth another celebration! We've all become much older, wiser and prettier in the meantime. Let's see how long we can keep that going!

One thing I found hard was the walking; I figured that renting bicycles might lead to undesirable effects. I am quite used to biking in Amsterdam. Under most circumstances. Hugh isn't; if we would try to bike through the heart of the city I might very well lose him in traffic. Or I would perhaps not, but get impatient trying to not behave like a, well, impatient capital dweller. And foreigners tend to bike in convoy; that does not allow for conversation, and therefore is not too suitable for a social trip. So I decided it was best if I adapt and walk everywhere. And that worked rather well; it was worth the sore feet.

My next port of call should be Helsinki, but I will make sure this time less than a year passes before I return to my country of birth! There are too many people I want to see there. And nothing wrong with an occasional museum either...

The National Museum allows photography; here one can see three very famous works of art in one picture...

I like this one: 'The little Street' by Vermeer

De Oudeschans by night - always one of the prettier sights of Amsterdam

 

Hugh and me on Museum Square. The van Gogh museum does not allow for photography, so one has to make do with this picture taken near it.

Queen's day on Museum Square; I've never seen it so sedate! But the blue skies are familiar; I think the weather gods are royalists.

The Amstel by night as a last picture

Rhubarb inundation pie

I have my moments as a perfect housewife*. I also have my moments of being something quite far from that. On a day I wasn't healthy enough to do something strenuous I decided to try and do something romantic: bake a rhubarb pie for Hugh. Or more specifically: a rhubarb-rice pie. The idea was good! And in theory I can do this: I had made an excellent one, back in Tromsø, a few years back. But rhubarb baking skills fade quickly: this time I hadn't managed to make the rubard compote stiff enough, and it became a rhubarb inundation pie... before it was cut it still looked good though. I should have another try before the rhubarb season is over! If it isn't already. I can't find the recipe I used the last time; I probably improvised. I'll just have to try harder...

*: that is, by my own standards

Norfolk - the movie

People should do what they're good at! My forte, if I may be do bold, is text with photographs. Roland is the master of snazzy videos. So while I wrote two blog posts on the Norfolk fieldwork, Roland stuck some of the pictures together to produce something more dynamic. Initially it also came with a soundtrack, but there are copyright issues with such things, so it is now a silent movie. Due to me being the main photographer of the fieldwork it looks as if I'm hardly there, but that should not spoil the fun. Enjoy!