19 May, 2005
Don't feed the birds...
...at least not until you know what noise they'll make at 5am when there looking for you to provide breakfast!
One day, a few weeks ago, I notice a dumpy looking game bird, may be a Partridge, was cruising towards me while I was standing outside my front door. We are not too far from some farmers fields. Anyway, I decided to keep still and see what it did, and to my surprise it wasn't bothered by my presence and wondered around quite happily close by. Having some biscuits to hand I tossed it a few crumbs (as you do) and feeling at one with nature I went on my merry way.
(Cut to 5:15am this morning) I am dragged, reluctantly, from my warm slumber by the penetrating clicking noise being made something or someone using what could only be described as a badly designed and over-sized ratchet tool below our bedroom window.
After this went on sporadically for more than 15 minutes I began to realize that what ever they working on must have been either screwed down to somewhere deep in the Earth's crust or jacked up above the roof of my house. No, there had to be some other explanation. I cast my unforgiving gaze down into the front garden and what should I see?
That bird and it's mate. Standing right where I'd tossed some crumbs for it only a few weeks ago. Is there some unwritten law of the wild, written in the polarized light patterns of the sky that only wild fowl can see, which states that 'upon providing sustenance to a bird that bird (the feedee), and all it's dependents become the responsibility of the feeder and that the feedee should exercise it's right to be feed at a time that is most inconvenient to the feeder'?
So much for wanting to be at one with nature.
One day, a few weeks ago, I notice a dumpy looking game bird, may be a Partridge, was cruising towards me while I was standing outside my front door. We are not too far from some farmers fields. Anyway, I decided to keep still and see what it did, and to my surprise it wasn't bothered by my presence and wondered around quite happily close by. Having some biscuits to hand I tossed it a few crumbs (as you do) and feeling at one with nature I went on my merry way.
(Cut to 5:15am this morning) I am dragged, reluctantly, from my warm slumber by the penetrating clicking noise being made something or someone using what could only be described as a badly designed and over-sized ratchet tool below our bedroom window.
After this went on sporadically for more than 15 minutes I began to realize that what ever they working on must have been either screwed down to somewhere deep in the Earth's crust or jacked up above the roof of my house. No, there had to be some other explanation. I cast my unforgiving gaze down into the front garden and what should I see?
That bird and it's mate. Standing right where I'd tossed some crumbs for it only a few weeks ago. Is there some unwritten law of the wild, written in the polarized light patterns of the sky that only wild fowl can see, which states that 'upon providing sustenance to a bird that bird (the feedee), and all it's dependents become the responsibility of the feeder and that the feedee should exercise it's right to be feed at a time that is most inconvenient to the feeder'?
So much for wanting to be at one with nature.
13 May, 2005
The further I travel the more at home I feel!
It's strange but as my work has taken me further and further from my home town (Watford) the more people I meet who have some link, however tenuous, with that town or the surrounding area.
Now, this could be an illusion caused by the passage of time. But the rate of meeting these people is increasing. My career hops from Watford to Hemel Hempstead to Swindon and now Bristol have all resulted in a broadening of the network.
It's not quite 'the six degrees of separation' but something more subtle. May be this lends some credence to the theory that if you travel far enough you will end up meeting yourself.
Now, this could be an illusion caused by the passage of time. But the rate of meeting these people is increasing. My career hops from Watford to Hemel Hempstead to Swindon and now Bristol have all resulted in a broadening of the network.
It's not quite 'the six degrees of separation' but something more subtle. May be this lends some credence to the theory that if you travel far enough you will end up meeting yourself.
10 May, 2005
I really love the internet...
That sounds like the words of a person who's new to the internet but I've been working with it for the past six years and every now and then I find stuff that makes me say 'I really love the internet' and I can't help myself.
Yesterday I was looking for books on Numerical Programming. I found some stuff on Amazon (as you do) and thought I'd do a Google search to find a publisher's website. However, what I found was the publisher had granted rights for the book I was interested in (Numerical Recipes in C) to be published freely on the internet (PDF) and I can now access a 1000+ page book on Numerical Programming for free ('to make one paper copy of these Acrobat files for their own personal use' that is).
You you can't tell me that the internet is not responsible for that. I mean, how many publishers would print a limitless number of copies of a book and then wonder around the streets giving it out to people?
A rarity at the best of times,
but one on Numerical Programming...
even rarer!
All credit goes to Cambridge University Press and the Cornell University Library
Yesterday I was looking for books on Numerical Programming. I found some stuff on Amazon (as you do) and thought I'd do a Google search to find a publisher's website. However, what I found was the publisher had granted rights for the book I was interested in (Numerical Recipes in C) to be published freely on the internet (PDF) and I can now access a 1000+ page book on Numerical Programming for free ('to make one paper copy of these Acrobat files for their own personal use' that is).
You you can't tell me that the internet is not responsible for that. I mean, how many publishers would print a limitless number of copies of a book and then wonder around the streets giving it out to people?
A rarity at the best of times,
but one on Numerical Programming...
even rarer!
All credit goes to Cambridge University Press and the Cornell University Library
06 May, 2005
Just arrived
Yes, I suppose that's how it feels. I've been wanting to set-up a blog for a while now and I've finaly got around to doing it.
