October visitor

It's so lovely when people from your past make an effort to stop in and say hello.

Close encounters with the Royal Family

I am not sure if working at charities increases your likelihood of encountering a member of the Royal Family. But they do a lot of charity work, and the only times I have almost met a royal I was while working at a charity. Yesterday, Princess Beatrice visited The Children’s Trust. Back in 2010, although I wouldn’t have remembered the date if it hadn’t been on a website, Prince Edward visited that Royal Hospital for Neuro-disability when I was working there. In both instances, I had a close encounter of about 4 metres but no direct contact.

Photo Credits

Princess Beatrice: The Children’s Trust

Prince Edward: The Local Guardian

Our Dartford Neighbourhood

I remember an article from a newspaper when I was young. I am not sure of the title or the paper or the author. It was a disparaging piece by someone who travelled through my hometown one rainy day. What I do remember decades later was the belittling of my hometown… and of me by extension. After all, I was a member of the community that created it. Constructive criticism is one thing. I lived there: I knew things could have been done better. But writing an article that our city was ugly and had no redeeming value: that was just mean. It has taken me several decades to realise that the article said much more about the author than it did about me. Sure, I was not in the bustle of a financial centre or in the mix of a cultural hub. But we had a bustle and a mix of our own. It probably was hard for a privileged outsider to appreciate what accomplishment might look like amidst the barriers inherent to the underprivileged community of my hometown. My experience in Dartford has been less than superlative. Perhaps that says more about me than about Dartford. But I will do my best not to disparage an entire town as I cannot appreciate its journey.

So as the name suggests, Dartford is named for a ford across a river. The river in this case is the River Darent. The ford is now a bridge, although I was unaware of the bridge or the river even though I drove over them many times. I only discovered them when I found a picture of them from beneath online.

Dartford to most people in England today conjures a very different more conspicuous river crossing. The Dartford Crossing consists of tunnels going under the Thames north (pictured) and a huge bridge going over south (pictured). It is the only major road crossing the Thames east of London and the tunnels are frequently closed to escort hazardous and wide loads through them, leaving motorists inching through their own car exhaust in the resulting backlog. But eventually, they continue their journeys, leaving behind their exhaust cloud as a memory of the pause in their journeys. I wonder sometimes if another invisible cloud of frustration and impatience that also grew while waiting for the traffic to resume its progress is also left to linger.

Walking around town, Mick Jagger is everywhere: not the person. I have never seen him in person, not that I know anyway. But his name and photographs are everywhere: well, not recent photographs. Photographs from maybe half a century ago. So obviously, he is from here. In fact, the hustings I wrote about in June was held in the Mick Jagger Centre. Legend has it that Jagger and Richards first met on Platform 2 of the Dartford Railway Station and there is blue plaque (pictured) there to commemorate it.

Photo Credits

Bridge: kentnews.co.uk

Tunnel: connectplusservices.co.uk

Blue Plaque: localrags.co.uk

Dartford Flat

Fascinating older stuff: a recent sample

While our recent wanderings over the past several months may not have included any stone circles, I did manage to run into my first dole table (pictured) outside of St John the Baptist Church in Penshurst. There are apparently only a few of them left. In addition to being used in the 1500’s & 1600’s to settle contracts and tithes, food and money were left out on them for those in need. The medieval church also had some pretty amazing monuments inside.

I was excited when I happened upon what  I thought was a medieval hagioscope at St Martin of Tours Church in Eynsford. A hagioscope is a hole in an interior wall so that the worshipper(s) could see the elevation of the host. But I cannot find it on any official lists, so it may not be a real one. But the dark roof timbers contrasting against the whitewashed walls (pictured) make for a remarkably tranquil atmosphere.

More recently, during Open House London, we visited Temple Church (pictured), London. This medieval church was fashioned after the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, which was a common practice by the Knights Templar at the time.

Photo Credits

St John the Baptist churchyard, Penshurst

St Martin of Tours, Eynsford

Temple Church, London

What was said was for you, and you alone.

Just after his visit with the Oracle, Morpheus tells Neo, “What was said was for you, and you alone.” I have always taken this statement to mean that Neo must not reveal what the Oracle told him to anyone else. But a recent insight suggest a more nuanced interpretation.

I was listening to something on the radio the other day that really moved me. When I shared it with others, it was clear that they did not find it as moving. I suppose this situation exposes another related misapprehension of mine. The weight and depth behind a nugget of wisdom is not the same for everyone who encounters it. The  resulting effect is more related to where the listener is on his/her journey than it is in the content of the message.  So it doesn't matter if Neo tells anyone because it will not have the same meaning to another. It will only have the specific effect it is meant to have on him and him alone.

As usual, it takes me a little while to catch up with the rest of you. So that was 17 or 18 years… have I missed any thing else since?

Photo Credit
ixquick-proxy.com

June Visitors

Really enjoyed our June visitors

Election 2017

Seeing some of headlines in American newspapers of the UK election, I feel I should say something to my American friends. You may be aware that in the UK, we do not vote for Prime Minister (PM). It is even much more English than that, however. There actually is no PM in law per se. I was going to say ‘constitution’ but instead wrote ‘law’ because we have no constitution per se. Its all convention. Lovely, welcome to England. So by convention, the PM is typically the leader of the party with the most seats in the House of Commons. At the moment, Theresa May is that party leader.

As I live in the consistency of Dartford, I am voting for the Member of Parliament (MP) to represent Dartford in the Commons. This is only my second parliamentary election and I was much more clued in. This time around, I concluded that there are three things I might vote for: the party leader, the party manifesto, or the MP.

In this seven week election campaign (the last American presidential election campaign was more like 100 weeks), I found myself personally attracted to the personal views of the Labour party leader, to the views in the Green party manifesto, and to the personal views of Liberal Democrat party candidate running in my constituency. I am not sure how the typical British voter deals with this scenario.

The eventual outcome was that the Conservatives held the Dartford seat. Sure, I’m disappointed, but having met him at the hustings, I have no doubt that my MP is doing what he believes is best for our constituency and will do so in a civil, dignified, and respectful manner. I feel similarly about the PM. So while my view did not prevail in the election result, I retain a strong sense of hope that civility will rule the day, and I sincerely wish my MP and the PM well. That does not mean I am not determined to work toward my vision of the future. I just see bitterness as destructive, and as not ultimately serving my desired outcome. I got this attitude because it is all around me.

This is where the American headlines claim that the UK is as divided as America is completely wrong. There may be a similar difference of opinion in the terms of percentages from election results. But in terms of bitterness, vitriol, and cynicism, there is no contest. I love and miss the country of my birth much in the way that I love and miss my parents. I pine for more time with family and friends living there, but I do not miss for one second the delusional comparisons, the hyperbolic overreactions, or the spontaneous dehumanisation of anyone with a different political view that have become the norm in politics and media there.

Photo Credits

Polling station sign: milkround

Results graphic: The Guardian

Sightseeing in Kent

A few weeks ago we went on a search for the Medway Megaliths which is about 20 miles from where we now live.  They are remains of large tombs from between 5000 and 6000 years ago.  This one is called Kit's Coty House.  I am continually amazed how much old man made stuff is still standing in this country.

Last week we went to the White Cliffs of Dover which are about 60 miles away.  Apparently they are made of chalk by a kind of algae.  The cliffs are visually quite striking.  Apparently huge parts of it collapsed in 2001 and 2012 and we are not supposed to go up to the edge, but I only learned that now on Wikipedia just now.  I guess I will not get as close if I go back.

Photo Credits
My beloved & I

Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage / To Caunterbury with ful devout corage

I went to Canterbury for this year's Good Friday devotion. The cathedral there was founded in 597 and is the seat of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the primary bishop in England and the symbolic head of the Anglican Communion, which currently boasts 85 million members worldwide. In 1170, Thomas Becket, the 41st Archbishop of Canterbury was assassinated in the cathedral by royal four knights owing to an ongoing political row. Becket was canonised in 1173. His shrine in the cathedral, built in 1220, was the focus of a popular mediaeval pilgrimage, memorialised in Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales (1387-1400). The shrine was destroyed in 1540 during the Dissolution of the Monasteries. An interesting connecting aside, Holy Trinity Parish Church, Dartford had a chapel dedicated to Becket used by pilgrims travelling from London via Rochester. My trip was not so much a day’s pilgrimage along pilgrims’ way as much as it was an hour’s drive down the A2. Considering the content of Chaucer's tales and where the participants were headed, I cannot help but marvelling at how easily the sacred and profane intermingle in a way that seems to contradict many current representations of authentic humanity.

Photo Credits

Becket with Henry II: Wikipedia

Pilgrims' way via Rochester: thinklink

Time machine

I’m back.

Lots has happened.  July was gruelling.  My beloved went through the interview treadmill without the result we had hoped for.  Things were not optimal.  We know that all turned around from the previous blog post.  I could just go on from there, but since my future self is the primary consumer of this blog, I invested / am investing / will invest in a time machine so my future self does not to miss out on certain pivotal moments of our journey.

ENTER TIME MACHINE

SEPTEMBER 2016

Supply, Demand, Neurology, and Assistive Technology

Earlier in the year, I reduced my hours in my acute neurosciences post so I could include working part time in assistive technology back into my working life.  This change had two benefits.  One is that I was able to return to a highly specialised field in which I had built up some knowledge and skill that was slowly slipping away from me though atrophy.  But more importantly in our current circumstance is benefit two: it pays more.

This assistive technology post is one of those supply-and-demand situations that has people making more money doing a job that is not necessarily more valuable.  It is like farmers and house builders.  I mean, shouldn’t they be some of the highest paid people?  Farmers feed us all.  That is pretty much the gift of life, right?  And I would not let my wife live in any house I built. If it were just me, that's one thing, but I actually care about what happens to her. Most of us rely on the places we live as a sanctuary and a launching off point for our contributions to society.  So in both cases, the food and shelter, the people who bring them to fruition in my mind should make more than the people who live in the houses they build or who eat the food they produce.

I am not berating the value of my knowledge and skill in assistive technology. But providing skilled interventions on an acute neurology / neurosurgery ward is at least as valuable and providing assistive technology interventions. I would even suggest perhaps more valuable, as people just starting to come to grips with life following neurological injury are really at a hugely important and difficult crossroad in their lives, and the presence of the right support, encouragement, and coaching could have huge repercussions for all aspects their future. Of course my assistive technology also has the potential for far reaching implications, but generally, the people who have been referred for specialist assistive technology intervention are much more likely to have come to some sort of appreciation for the challenges they may encounter on the particular life path on which they find themselves. So in my mind, the acute neurosciences job should pay at least as much. Anyway, that very long, convoluted, and somewhat off-topic introduction sets up an otherwise one sentence blog post. I perhaps should partake of the one-sentence blog post more than I do. Oh well, that ship has sailed:

An opportunity came up to go full time at my assistive technology post and I think I am going to grab it considering my situation.

NOVEMBER 2016

Rooms of Requirement

We decided to move to a more affordable part of town.  The benefits go beyond placing us in a more secure financial footing considering our current situation. Moving to the south side of town cuts my drive time to work in half. But it has been so much more.

When we moved to the beautiful North, we were in a hurry and without a vehicle.  Turns out there were several less than ideal features that were not so apparent on they day we poked our heads into the window and decided to lease the Horsforth flat. One is being on the ground floor, the light from between the buildings carries a certain gloom with it through the windows. Second is the floor is uninsulated, meaning that no matter how warm the flat is in winter, any time your feet are in contact with the floor for more than 30 seconds, you are COLD. This includes sitting at the sofa or dinner table or toilet, washing dishes, cooking, walking anywhere... in short, if you are not in bed., you're cold.

The Morley flat is not only warm by contrast but there is a peace in this space that has settled our souls. The light is here is other worldly. At night, a faint orange glow trickles in from the street lights transporting us out of time and space. In day, the whole sky fills the southern and western walls of the lounge, filling it with enlivening energy. The shower has grey slate walls which grounds it into the earth while the flowing water trickles away the firm energy from that earthen foundation over and into us and then out into the rest of the universe. The very shape of the flat organises the life as we are living it under our particular circumstances. It is in the centre of the town and there are many conveniences as the door of the building opens into a pedestrian zone. It is exactly what we need at this time, and one evening it whispered to me its magical identity, a not-so-distant relation to the Room of Requirement. As with many magical rooms, it is guarded by a stone sentry, this one in the form of a statue of Ernie Wise located by the building entrance.  The sentry is off centre from his platform and leaning away from its centre. You could mistake this position resulting from a bunch of yobs trying to pull him over. Really what is happening is you are catching him moving out of the corner of your eye but he instantly freezes in place when you look straight at him. And the space next to him is due to the missing Morecambe statue lurking behind anyone approaching with intensions to harm the rooms' occupants.

DECEMBER 2016

Visiting a place called home

As our future is uncertain and I have lowest seniority in my new job, late November has presented itself as the perfect time to going back to Massachusetts . We had to cancel our trip last year due to illness, and summer is out of bounds because it is interview season.  Things are a bit in flux as we have only been in the new flat for a couple weeks.  I finished my acute neurosurgery post before the trip and am switching to full-time in my assistive technology post when I return. This will give us a chance to settle in the run up for a nice quiet Christmas, and my beloved is looking forward to having time to finish her book. There were many highlights of the trip but meeting my nephew for the first time sticks out.


ADVENT 2016

Permanent Job

The illusive permanent post that my wife has been chasing has come to fruition. Our trip home ended with my beloved doing a 4am interview by Skype. My brother-in-law volunteered his man cave as a location. Our life was in many ways on hold until this moment and now that it is here, there is something almost slightly disturbing to be in a life in which we are no longer pursuing this fickle sprite.

My wife’s new job starts in early January. You may recall that we just moved and I just changed jobs and we just returned from a trip. So things have been on the go.  Now in the Advent to Christmas, we have to find a place to live 200 miles away and get moved in with enough time so my wife has time to prepare for the job. It is a tight timetable. Added to that, since we just moved, we are locked into our current lease until at least March. We looked at several scenarios but the only realistic one is to separate so I can keep my job over the double rent period, and I can start looking for a job down south once we get her moved in.

JANUARY 2017

Dartford



So we settled on a place in Dartford. My beloved can get into work directly on the railway line and the rents are more reasonable because it is further from the Big Smoke. You cannot go 200 metres without encountering an enlarged image of or something named after Mick Jagger.  So there's that. It is quite suburban, a bit in transition: some areas with new buildings and other more dodgy areas waiting for demolition. We live in a neighbourhood that is quite nice and the shortest path to the railway station manages to keep to mostly inhabited areas.

FEBRUARY 2017

Driving

So with my beloved in Dartford and me in Morley, the principle activity of every weekend is driving. Since my workplace is a half hours drive closer to her, there is a certain logic to driving to / from my wife straight from / to work. So Friday evening I drive to her after work and I am using up my remaining annual leave to take the first two hours of every Monday off so I can leave at a reasonable hour (6am) and drive to work for a 10am start. The first one was fantastic. The second was great. Each week drawing a little more energy. Eventually, the feeling is whittling down to fatigue. I am so looking forward to not driving 400 miles every weekend.

MARCH 2017

The perfect job

Just before we finished setting up my wife in the new flat, a former colleague of mine, who I happened to run into so she knew I was moving back south, emailed me a job posting she thought was perfect for me. I was going to start my job search in earnest the next week but the closing date for this job was in a few days so I had to get to work on it straight away. It is perfect in many ways, not least of which is it is in assistive technology, the pay is decent, and it ended up starting right after the Rooms of Requirement are about to vanish into the aether. Yet another nearly impossible confluence of cascading events unfolding for me to occupy. It's getting to the point that I am afraid to tell anyone because I am starting to sound delusional even to myself.

EXIT TIME MACHINE

Photo Credits

Primer discovery: www.kevinmuldoon.com
Supply & Demand: www.paulcraigroberts.org
Ernie Wise statue: ixquick-proxy.com
Morley flat: us
Nephew: his mum
University of Greenwich: commons.wikimedia.org
Queen Elizabeth II Bridge (Dartford): en.wikipedia.org
A1: en.wikipedia.org
The Children’s Trust: www.thechildrenstrust.org.uk
Primer box: www.youmightfindyourself.com