Living as we do in nearly the centre of London, a brisk walk away from everything worth seeing, we weren't expecting to be hosting any wildlife bigger than our squirrel.

Last week an urban fox took up residence in our rather small back garden. I'd post a picture but one fox looks around the same as another.

I really don't want a fox living there: it stays under a bush during the heat of the day, and then when the sun is low moves out into the middle of the yard. Foxes don't carry rabies here (a woman died of rabies yesterday in the UK, but she had been bitten by a dog while she was visiting India a month or so ago) but they can bite if cornered. I felt concerned about leaving our back door open, so it's a bit hot in the house.

The Acting Area Dean and I met last night for another reason, and his advice was to spread curry powder around where it had been lying. I had some lying around, so spread it out there early today. No sign of the fox all day.

I have called the landlord for advice. The next door neighbours have the makings of a conservatory under a tarp along the back wall and I think that the fox lives there when it's not sunning itself in our garden. The landlord may fix the fence between my back garden and theirs so that the fox will have to jump over it rather than squeeze through the gap at the back. I can deal with that.

I shall go to Brick Lane and buy a bag of very spicy curry powder and spread more around, perhaps tomorrow. I don't want it shot or poisoned—if I did HWMBO would probably divorce me. I just want it to go elsewhere.

Don't blame me, blame Fr. MadPriest's Mad Dad.

A man was sitting reading his papers when his wife hit him round the head with a frying pan.

'What was that for?' the man asked.

The wife replied 'That was for the piece of paper with the name Jenny on it that I found in your pants pocket'.

The man then said 'When I was at the races last week Jenny was the name of the horse I bet on.'

His wife apologized and went on with the housework..

Three days later the man is watching TV when his wife bashes him on the head with an even bigger frying pan, knocking him unconscious. Upon re-gaining consciousness the man asked why she had hit again.

His wife replied, 'Your horse phoned.'

Movies about art and artists tend to be boring, talking head affairs, or pictures of the art with voice-overs by jaded old art history experts.

This one is not. Watch, and enjoy.

I came across a website devoted to train travel in Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand. Near the end of a very long web page there is a section marked "London to Singapore overland".

• London to Moscow by train


• Moscow to Beijing by Trans-Siberian Railway


• Beijing to Hanoi by train


• Hanoi to Saigon by train


• Saigon-Phnom Penh by bus


• Phnom Penh-Battambang by train or bus, bus to frontier, train to Bangkok


• Bangkok to Singapore by train

To do this would take several thousand pounds and 3-1/2 weeks (at least). But, I want! This sounds like the most fantastic trip imaginable.

Alas, it's unlikely I will ever be able to do this. However, the trip of a lifetime would be fantastic. Do go to the website if you're a train or transport buff.

Please note that since I posted this essay, I've been informed that Saverin is a Brasilian citizen and has not taken Singaporean citizenship, nor does he intend to. There are various places where I have struck out the original text to indicate this but if I've missed any, please construe this note as contradicting them.

There has been a lot of discussion lately about the decision of Eduardo Saverin, one of the founders of Facebook, to renounce his American citizenship and become a Singaporean citizen (Thanks to leejean for pointing me to a story in which Saverin's spokesman points out that Saverin is now a Singaporean resident and a Brasilian citizen, as he never gave up Brasilian citizenship when he was naturalised in the United States and retained that citizenship when he renounced his US citizenship.) He has lived in Singapore since 2009. As he is now a billionaire through the public offering of Facebook shares on NASDAQ, he is being denounced by US citizens from all over. Senators are demanding that he be deemed an expatriate for tax avoidance purposes and barred from ever entering the United States again. A columnist in Forbes magazine suggests that Saverin is cutting himself off from his roots and from Silicon Valley, the home of startups and a place where he might be expected to invest some money and therefore need to travel there to watch his investments.



Expatriation is a subject that is close to my heart. I moved to England in 1994, gained perpetual leave to remain in 1998 and British citizenship in 2000, continuing as a US citizen. I intend to remain here for the rest of my life.

The United States has gradually over the past twenty years or so put more and more onerous requirements on US citizens who wish to renounce their citizenship. At one time it was as easy as going to your local US Embassy (you can't do it when you're present in the US) and signing a form and swearing an oath. You got a nice certificate (suitable for framing) and you were no longer a US citizen.

As the United States, along with only two other very modern countries (Eritrea and the Philippines), taxes its citizens on their worldwide income whether they are resident in the United States or not, there is some attraction to the idea that, if you are a dual US/whatever citizen, renouncing your US citizenship (assuming you do not wish to return there to live) will simplify your life by removing the requirement that you file a 1040 plus several other forms each year.


If you are wealthy enough, this move would also save you lots of money before 1996 or so. At that time, Congress added the requirement that high-net-worth individuals must pay an exit tax on their holdings when they renounce their citizenship. They have to file a return assuming that they have sold all their assets, and pay a capital gains tax on them. In addition to this, there is a clause in the law which bars any expatriate who is judged to have given up citizenship for tax reasons from returning to the US, exen just as a tourist.

Now we come to the case of Mr. Saverin. He was born in Brasil, and was brought to the United States as a child, and presumably gained US citizenship when his parents did. He was educated in the United States, went to university, and helped start Facebook with Mark Zuckerberg. This has eventually given him ownership of about 5% of the company (exact figures are not available). At a capitalisation of $104 billion or so, this would give Mr. Saverin a fortune of $5.2 billion, give or take a few hundred million. This is not chicken feed. However, before Facebook's IPO, he was not a billionaire but merely a very high-worth individual, and his stock holdings were valued at a fraction of what they are now.

In 2009 Mr. Saverin moved to Singapore. Now, as it happens, I have been to Singapore many times and have not only a Singaporean husband (HWMBO, He Who Must Be Obeyed) but a multitude of Singaporean friends and blog buddies. So I know something about living and working there.

Mr. Saverin, when he renounced his citizenship, went through all the procedures (he can afford the lawyers) and presumably filed his exit tax return and paid his capital gains tax on his net worth. This is what the law requires.

However, the response of American citizens to news of his new citizenship fills me with dread. As patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel (©Samuel Johnson as reported by Boswell) one can only shake one's head at the calls for Saverin to be barred from ever entering the US again (this provision of the law has never been enforced, it seems), one can become alarmed at the name-calling: Saverin is ungrateful, a tax dodger, a criminal even, unpatriotic.

The first thing to say is that Saverin is not a tax dodger. When he renounced his American citizenship it is certain that he went by the book (barring fraud, which as a high-profile individual would have been difficult to do) and declared his assets, paid the required tax on them, and renounced his citizenship according to law. He is not a criminal, nor is he a tax dodger.

What Americans (I'm using "American" in this blog post to refer to US citizens, by the way; it's easier to type. All ye Canadians and Mexicans, please do not take umbrage.) seem to be saying is that it is not only unpatriotic and ungrateful to renounce your citizenship, but that people who do so are dishonest and in some way treating citizenship as something that carries no responsibility and can be shucked off like the husk of a corncob, with no consequences. Such people, they think, should be treated with contempt.

Let's consider what citizenship means and why one might want to have more than one, or renounce one to take up another.

American law states that anyone who is born on American soil is, from that accident of birth, an American citizen (with a few exceptions, such as children born to foreign diplomats). Several foreign terrorists have been revealed to be American citizens through being born in America to parents who were in their country's military but in training in the United States. This legal principle is called ius soli, or "law of the soil".

Other countries (Germany, for one) say that a child must have some ancestral connection to Germany to be considered a German citizen. Thus, a child born to an ethnic German in Russia can claim German citizenship on moving to Berlin, while a child born to Turkish parents in Berlin, up until recently, would either be Turkish or stateless. This is called ius sanguinis, or "law of the blood".

I am an American citizen though being born in the United States. I did not choose that; it just happened.

As people do move around, naturalisation (that is, becoming a citizen of another country than the one you were born in) is required to ensure that a person can stay in his or her new country without burdensome restrictions. At one time in the United States, non-citizens resident in the US were required to register once a year (I don't know whether this is still required but it might be.) Becoming a naturalised American citizen not only removed that requirement but allowed you to vote and have "taxation with representation".

Saverin was naturalised as a child, educated in the United States, paid his taxes, and fulfilled all requirements of citizenship (as far as I am aware; I think that if he had not it would have become evident during this current fracas). Now he has moved to Singapore, ostensibly because he likes living there and it is closer to his business and personal interests. I know what it's like to live in a country where I pay taxes but have no legal right of abode and cannot vote: that was my status in the United Kingdom between 1994 and 2000. It is unsettling. You hear political news all the time but elections happen around you and you have no say in who spends your tax money. If you like where you're living (I love London) and want to live there permanently, naturalisation is the next step, and I duly took that. US law (after Afroyim vs. Rusk admits of dual citizenship. The US Government does not like the concept, warns people against it, and would prefer that people do not enter into it. But they do, and the US does not have the Constitutional right to remove US citizenship involuntarily from people who take out another citizenship.

In other countries, this is not the case. Singapore (along with many countries in Southeast Asia and elsewhere) does not allow dual Singaporean citizenship. Thus, people who wish to become Singaporean citizens must renounce their other citizenship(s) when they take the citizenship oath in Singapore. Since Savarin wanted to live in Singapore and take citizenship there, he could not legally do that unless and until he renounced his US citizenship. Savarin has not taken Singaporean citizenship—see the note in RED at the beginning of this blog post.

The fury of those who wish to punish Mr. Savarin still further (assuming that taking 30% of his total net wealth in an exit tax wasn't enough) can be explained only by misguided patriotism. If that were not the case, then these people would not applaud those who moved to the United States from another country and renounced their original citizenship (at least they are supposed to) in order to become US citizens. Is US patriotism somehow different from patriotism in any other country? American exceptionalists may think so, but I don't believe that anyone else does.

Patriotism is an attitude of mind, not a product of where you were born or where you were naturalised and definitely not something that is irreplaceable, irreversible, or innate in every human being. Being treated cruelly in your country of birth does not inspire a person with tender and warm feelings toward it. Ask a Roma in the Czech Republic or Hungary. While the entire culture and the method of education in most countries is aimed at making children feel that they are part of some greater enterprise than just their own family or clan, this can be undone in an instant for many and varied reasons. And the laws in most places accept that people can share or transfer their allegiance due to life circumstances.

It is irrational and unjust for Americans to welcome immigrants with open arms and offer them a new citizenship in the Land of the Free while simultaneously denouncing Americans who move to other countries and renounce American citizenship as traitors, ingrates, and criminals.

It is the right of the United States to set conditions for expatriation, and it has done so. However, it is not right for Americans to then demonise those who fulfill those conditions. Americans should politely regret that they are losing Mr. Savarin to Singapore, thank him for fulfilling his tax and legal obligations before leaving, and get on with the business of building up their own country into a place where immigrants are valued and welcomed.

Interestingly, the reaction in Singapore to news of Mr. Saverin's naturalisation becoming a permanent resident there has not been universally welcoming. There has been an influx of citizens of the People's Republic of China into Singapore recently, encouraged by the government as a means of filling jobs that many Singaporeans do not wish to take. Some Singaporeans have denounced the newcomers as ungrateful, rude, and even dangerous (a PRC driver recently crashed his car into a taxicab and killed the cab driver and his female passenger along with himself). In Mr. Savarin's case, his move to the Lion City is resented by many Singaporean men, since they are required by law to serve National Service (NS) for two years around the end of their teens and Mr. Savarin will not be required to serve as he is past the age of service. If he has any sons, and they become Singaporean citizens, they will be required to serve NS when they become eligible.

Mr. Saverin, farewell from an American citizen. You will be missed. But welcome to Singapore, a place where there are difficulties but also opportunities and a place where I hope you will be happy and fulfilled.

I shall take out the location to protect the innocent…this person is interested in Chinese men.

In … area…you must host cheap motel downtown
i am a 55 Year/old Black/top/poet/lover of men old school homosexual
bring enema kit dildo condoms
must be clean no diseases
bring boneless spare ribs bean curd chow mein pork egg drop soup

You must be masculine submissive dad bottom into feet armpits sweat rimming
dont have to be a model must be a real person
be respectful and you will be respected
contact me asap thanks

I think that the menu specification is probably the best part of this.

I'll have one from column A and one from column B.

Not all churches can subscribe to the sentiments in the video embedded below. But the ones that do are worth thinking about attending. They take nearly every reason for not going to church and turn it around. The only one I've heard that they don't address is "The church would burn down if I went into it."

At their best, churches can be like this collection of people—a collection of seekers after light and fellowship. At their worst, they're something else.

Watch the video.

The town of Wallsend, in North Tyneside, was the end of Hadrian's Wall, constructed by the Romans to defend the border of the Empire against the rebelling tribes beyond. To commemorate this historical connection (which is also reflected in the town's name), since 2003 most of the signs in Wallsend station on the Tyne and Wear Metro have been in both English and Latin.

And, of course, we thank Punki for posting some examples on Flickr, one of the best of which is reproduced below.



Many thanks to the Latinstudy list for bringing this great fact to my attention.

Gac Filipaj has been a janitor at my Alma Mater, Columbia University, for 20 years. During all this time, he has been taking courses, using his employee course credits to first learn English and then to take Latin and Greek, which of course was my major at Columbia 40 years ago. Well, next week he will receive his bachelor's degree in Latin and Greek. With honours. He is now going to apply to the graduate school to study for a PhD in classics.

For being a student by day and a janitor by night, and outperforming a lot of privileged young undergraduates, I nominate Gac as my

Brick of the Day © Fr. MadPriest.

From the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, 3-21-2012, comes this story, which is poignant and yet give me hope that there are some people in the world who are selfless, honest, and willing to go the extra mile for other people.

Dan O'Leary, the city manager of Keller, Tex. (pop. 27,000), faced with severe budget problems, was unable to avoid the sad job of handing out pink slips. For instance, he determined that one of Keller's three city managers had to go, and in April, he laid himself off. According to a March Fort Worth Star-Telegram report, O'Leary neither intended to retire nor had other offers pending nor had aroused negative suspicions as to motive. That is, he simply realized the city could be managed more cost-effectively by the two lower-paid officials.

Garnered from the "News of the Weird" email from Sunday 6 May.

For his actions, I have to nominate Mr. O'Leary as my "Brick of the Day" (with a nod to Fr. MadPriest)

This week elections for local councils in large British cities and in all of Scotland and Wales occurred, along with the election for London mayor and assembly. Do recall that the national government is a coalition between the Conservatives (to whom I shall refer as "Tories") and the Liberal Democrats (LibDems), with Labour, which lost the 2010 election, in opposition.

As is true in many countries, local elections in between national elections often give rise to a protest vote against the governing party/parties. And such was the case in the UK this week.

Up and down the country, the Tories and LibDems were punished, and Labour gained a number of important councils away from both parties. In Scotland, they held on to Glasgow council, which was a target of the governing Scottish National Party. The LibDems lost control of one council (net), leaving them with 6, even though their power base was built up through careful cultivation of local voters and a number of local council seats. They have dropped below 2000 local councilors for the first time in the party's history. The Tories lost many local council seats up and down the land, and control of a number of councils.

The trend did not extend to the London mayoralty election, however. Labour gained some London Assembly seats, but Boris Johnson was re-elected Mayor of London by 3 percentage points, 51.5% to 48.5%, with second-choice votes being counted. Voters got a first and second preference vote, and second preference votes for all those below the top two vote getters in the first preference were added to first preference votes to produce a majority. This is a somewhat cack-handed way of doing what the French are engaging in at the moment: their first round of Presidential voting produced Sarkozy vs. Hollande, and tomorrow they will be voting again between those two candidates only.

Now the Tories are wary of their victorious London Mayor, Boris Johnson, He has a colourful history, is considered eccentric, has had an, um, varied marital life, is wealthy, a classicist, and is considered by many to be boyish and handsome. However, national Tory politicians are afraid that Boris will challenge Prime Minister David Cameron for the leadership of the Tory party, especially if Cameron looks set to lose the 2015 general election. So his victory in London was seen as dangerous nationally. Boris has publicly eschewed any ambition for national office, in a radio interview, but one of the things that politicians do all the time is change their minds about running for various higher offices, and I would not be surprised if Boris reappears on the national scene either before, or just after, the next general election. After all, he is the one politician in the United Kingdom who has a personal mandate from voters of more than 1 million votes. It would be natural for him to segué back into Parliament.

His opponent, Ken Livingstone of the Labour Party, has had more than 30 years in local and national politics. He was leader of the London County Council (the forerunner of the London government of today) during the Thatcher years, and so enraged the Iron Lady that she abolished the LCC rather than endure his public taunts from across the Thames. He slid into Parliament as MP for Brent during the 80's and 90's. When the Mayoralty was created in 2000, he had so alienated Labour that they did not nominate him for Mayor, as he had hoped. So he ran as an independent, and won. Blair & Co. held their noses and welcomed him back, and he won re-election in 2004.

Livingstone also has a colourful personal life. He has 5 children from several women, to not all of whom he was married. He is broadly favourable (in my opinion) to LGBT rights, but also invites some Muslims who are homophobic and anti-Semitic to speak in London meetings under his control. He has himself referred to a paparazzo who was following him around as a "concentration camp guard", and suffered sanctions because of that. He is a newt-fancier, thus giving rise to lots of humourous items in the opinion columns along with funny political cartoons.

He found losing to Boris quite a blow in 2008, and has been quietly running for the election ever since. He was chosen as Labour's candidate last year, over several very qualified politicians, one of whom, Oona King, is someone for whom I have a lot of respect. But Ken Livingston, like Marmite, is one of those politicians who is either hated or adored by voters. He carries a lot of baggage along with him, and has recently been in the news because he has used a company to receive speaking fees and book royalties, so that he could pay his wife as his researcher along with other part-time staff. The side effect of this is paying taxes at a low corporate rate, not a higher personal rate. He has indeed paid all the taxes for which he is personally and corporatively liable; however, his opponents smacked him hard over this, calling it tax evasion but ignoring that other politicians do exactly the same thing, including (I believe) one B. Johnson.

Now you might expect that, given the national trend toward Labour, Ken might have squeaked through to City Hall yet again. He didn't, although his defeat was much narrower than the pollsters expected. Why is this?

I contend that Boris did not win the election, Ken lost it. Through having a "history", through raising doubts about his fiscal probity regarding taxation, and through generally being a rather overexposed and tired figure, Ken lost the election that Labour might have won under a vibrant relatively new candidate such as Oona King. Alas, we'll never know this time around. There's always 2016, though.

And finally I turn to the party to which I have the pleasure of belonging, the Liberal Democrats. In elections before 2010, the Liberal Democrats benefitted from midterm protest votes from whichever side was in government. However, for those who wanted to protest in 2012 there was only one major party for which to vote: Labour. And voters (those who bothered to vote; turnout was in the high 30%s, which is low for an election here) took advantage of that opportunity and voted Labour in their thousands, protesting against both Tory and LibDem candidates, but smacking the LibDems a bit harder. Hundreds of LibDem councillors lots their seats.

In London, their mayoral candidate, Brian Paddick, who (in my opinion) was the best qualified of the three major candidates through his experience as a senior police officer, was beaten down into 4th place by the Green candidate. They lost 1 London Assembly member, to Labour's gaining 4 and the Conservatives losing 2, including one of Boris's Deputy Mayors.

Nationally the troglodytes in the Conservative party are blaming the bad result on Cameron's relatively liberal social policies, such as support for same-sex marriage. Wrong. BZZZT! You're out. People do not generally vote down people on social issues here. It's the terrible economy, mired in a double-dip recession, that did for the Tories. Being known as the Nasty Party, slapping taxes on grannies and hot Cornish pastys while lowering taxes for fat cats, is not going to be a vote winner generally. Blaming it on Cameron's generally pro-European-Union-business attitude is also stupid, but we have come to expect that from some of the receding-jawed over-bred toffs who sit on the Government benches and for whom any mention of Europe calls forth foaming-mouthed denunciations. And as for the LibDems, being associated with the Nasty Party tarred them with that nasty brush, like stepping in a pile of dogshit before going to the Queen's garden party, and stubbornly refusing to notice the odour rising from your shoes.

So, all in all, a bad result for the Tories, a disastrous one for the Liberal Democrats, and a hopeful one for Labour, whose national leader, Ed Miliband, has come in for a lot of criticism lately for a perceived charisma-deficit and for not being his brother, David, who was the favourite of Labour politicians for the leadership in 2010 but who was defeated in the contest. Now that he has a national victory under his belt, he needs to concentrate on putting forward credible national policies to deal with the debt, to deal with the recession, and to make Britons feel like their government cares about them. If he can do that, he'll be striding into Number 10 Downing Street in 2015. If that were to happen, a very savage war would break out in the Conservative Party which might result in Cameron being propelled out of the leadership by the massed feet of the reduced band of Tory MPs and one B. Johnson, who says publicly that he'd really rather not be in Parliament because he now has the job he really loves, being propelled into it.

Just a short note on this subject today, as the subject of the British elections looms. I got an email yesterday from someone who we have now identified as my 7th cousin once removed. He is a collateral relative of my paternal grandmother's maternal grandmother, Mary Alice Hall, from Quebec, Canada. He has traced that particular line back to 14th century England (1307 AD). Exciting stuff. I shall be collating my information with his as soon as I can.

Well, here we go again.

Thursday, May 3, 2012.

1:43 a.m. Loud party reported on Sewall Street. Officers cleared the scene, having taken “preemptive action on a gathering.”
7:04 a.m. Caller reported that the crew working at the Warwick site on Pleasant Street had started work approximately 30 minutes too early. Caller added that while walking her dog, she told a member of the construction crew, “Thanks for starting 20 minutes early this morning and waking me up,” to which she said he replied, “You’re welcome,” which caller found to be very rude and asked that it be logged.
9:11 a.m. Well-being check conducted on Broughton Road. Parent and child had had a verbal argument but were otherwise OK.
10:30 a.m. Staff at Marblehead High School reported student had left the school. Officers were asked to be on the lookout for him.
10:36 a.m. Glover School principal reported that staff were with a student in the lower playground who was a flight risk. She asked police not to respond immediately but to be on standby. Student then fled school, throwing rocks at staff, hitting a teacher who first went to seek medical attention from the school nurse and later was transported to Salem Hospital. Student was monitored from a distance until police arrived and restrained the student. Attempts were made to contact student’s parents.
12:55 p.m. Marblehead High School administrator reported a domestic dispute between student and her ex-boyfriend, which had prompted the girl to be picked up by her mother. Sergeant asked officer to go to girl’s home and interview her. Seems to be a bit of demob fever among the students.
2:34 p.m. Assisted driver with disabled vehicle on Pleasant Street.
3:24 p.m. Caller reported that her car had been struck by the vehicle that had been parked next to hers in the parking lot of convenience store on Smith Street. While backing out, driver reportedly tore a hole in the bumper and ripped a piece from a car she told the caller she had borrowed. Caller’s car, however, was not damaged, and she sent the driver on her way.
5:01 p.m. Walk-in reported suspicious activity — kids approached by a man — on Pleasant Street.
6:08 p.m. Solicitors going door to door trying to sell painting services reported on Baldwin Road. Officer found woman on Baldwin Road and advised her of the town bylaw. Another solicitor was followed by officer to the Neck to retrieve the other worker. They, too, were advised of town bylaw and sent on their way.
7:07 p.m. Person flagged down officer to report that man had stolen a bike from his porch on Anderson Street. The bike was found on School Street. Owner was notified, and he retrieved the bike.
7:32 p.m. Attempted to contact person believed to live on Prospect Court or Prospect Street whose checkbook and paperwork had been turned in to Salem Police.
8:56 p.m. Caller expressed concern that her son and friend might be riding around on a scooter under the influence. Officer located the pair on Heritage Way and spoke to them. The scooter was parked for the night, and they walked home.
11:18 p.m. Lift assistance provided on Wallace Road.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

12:49 a.m. Caller on Curtis Street reported man in his driveway looking at his car. Caller said that when he confronted the man, the man said he was there to repossess a vehicle and that he was looking for the Vehicle Identification Number. Officers could not find any tow truck in the area, though one officer reported seeing a flatbed tow truck on Green Street. Repo Man!
7:10 a.m. Caller reported a child by himself who looked lost on West Shore Drive and Jersey Street. Child could not be located.
7:52 a.m. Caller reported that crossing guard at Village and Vine streets was creating a traffic nightmare by going out into traffic without her equipment and putting up her hands to stop cars. Caller said she had seen two near accidents, which she said had been caused by the guard. Officer found traffic to be flowing pretty well in the area and planned to speak to the guard.
8:12 a.m. Caller reported an unfamiliar woman going through trash on Gallison and Atlantic avenues. Woman was admonished. She agreed to a consent search of her vehicle. Nothing was found.
10:57 a.m. Caller on Green Street reported that a group of four people had come to her door while she was on the phone whom she believed to be soliciting. Officer found that they were Jehovah’s witnesses.
10:58 a.m. Officer investigated report that poorly parked car may have been struck by both a private vehicle and a Fire Department vehicle. Officer determined that only new damage was to a lens cover on one of the vehicle’s headlights, as owner of parked car reported that scrape on door was old. Firefighter reported that a Fire Department vehicle had not hit the car.
11:58 a.m. Caller reported having received a call from a foreign-sounding person who asked her about her Medicare card and her bank account information. Believing it to be a scam, she hung up on the caller and notified the bank.
12:42 p.m. Walk-in reported having lost his unemployment check after endorsing it.
1:03 p.m. Council on Aging requested well-being check on resident who did not answer the door for meal delivery. The resident then checked in with the COA, and police were not needed.
3:52 p.m. Tree company blocking Buena Vista Road reported. Officer confirmed the report and spoke to workers.
6:50 p.m. Vehicles in fire lane at Village School were ticketed.
6:53 p.m. Well-being check requested for storeowner who had left a note on his store on Darling Street, saying he would be back at 1 p.m. but had not returned. Lights were still on in store as well. Officer spoke with man, who said he was fine.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

3:08 a.m. Caller reported hearing coyotes on Leggs Hill and Londonderry roads and was nervous about walking back to her house. She was escorted home. The Wild West is expsnding East.
8:21 a.m. Caller on Washington Street reported ongoing issues with workmen doing work on neighbors’ home parking in her space. She said she now had them blocked in, and that they were trying to ram her vehicle. Officers spoke to parties involved. Caller said if contractors parked in her spot again, she would issue a no-trespass letter.
3:17 p.m. E-mail was sent to detectives, providing them with information. Hm...Something about Viagra or Cialis, no doubt.
3:46 p.m. Caller reported that person was monopolizing the previously shared sole on-street parking space on Nicholson Street. Caller said she would try writing a note to neighbor and, if that did not work, make an appeal to the selectmen to set a time limit on parking in the spot.
4 p.m. National Grid workers passed along concern for customer whose home they had visited on May Street. Relative was contacted.
4:36 p.m. Auburndale Road resident reported that an item had been taken from the front of her house.
</font>5:20 p.m. Caller on Evans Road reported that, at around 7:45 a.m., he had observed a large Coca-Cola truck “booking” it down the street and running into some branches in front of her house. She requested increased traffic enforcement in the area.</font>
6:29 p.m. Investigated domestic disturbance on Central Street. Person was taken to hospital for evaluation.
7:32 p.m. Well-being check conducted on Powder House Court. Woman was OK.
9:39 p.m. Caller reported that her ex had been trying to use her address as his and just wanted it on record in case it became an issue.

For a moment there I wondered what Miss Mastership thought about the whole thing…



The original article is taken from The Varsity, the Cambridge University scandal-sheet.

Today's joke comes again from Fr. MadPriest's MadDad, and is good for a laugh.

A woman and a baby were in the doctor's examining room waiting for the doctor to come in for the baby's first exam. The doctor arrived, showed them into his surgery, examined the baby, checked his weight, and being a little concerned, asked if the baby was breast-fed or bottle-fed.

'Breast-fed,' the woman replied.

'Well, strip down to your waist,' the doctor ordered.

She did. He pinched her nipples, pressed, kneaded, and rubbed both breasts for a while in a very professional and detailed examination.

Motioning to her to get dressed, the doctor said, 'No wonder this baby is underweight. You don't have any milk."

'I know,' she said, 'I'm his aunt, but I'm glad I came.'

I was surprised that I was compos mentis enough to deliver a sermon this morning. I'm still quite groggy but I thought that I'd post it in case anyone was interested. I'll put most of it under a cut.

April 22, 2012 3rd Sunday of Easter
Sermon delivered at St. John the Evangelist, 10 AM.
First Reading: Acts 3:13-15,17-19; Ps: 4;
Epistle: 1 John 2:1-5;
Gospel: Luke 24:35-48 (Year B)

“And they offered him a piece of grilled fish, which he took and ate before their eyes.”

In the name of God, the one, the Undivided Trinity. AMEN.

If I look a bit tired, the reason is that I just returned on Friday from a trip to my family and friends in Massachusetts in the United States. This is the first trip out of the country I've taken in three years, and I really enjoyed it.

During my trip, I had a great lunch with a friend who is a columnist for the local newspaper. As my hometown possesses the best natural harbour on the East Coast of the United States, she took me to lunch at the local yacht club, to give me an idea about how the other half lives.
( The rest of the sermon is behind a cut )

The last time I was in Singapore this building was still being put up. It's a casino, and is the venue for the infinity swimming pool on the top pediment of the three buildings. Follow the first link for a beautiful picture of the building in twilight.

I want to visit Singapore yet again, that beautiful city where HWMBO grew up.

I am finally back in St. Matthew's Court, but not after a lot of effort.

So Thursday I did all that I had set out to do: washed the bed linens, fixed Harold's computer, and finished packing. The computer was a pretty hairy experience. Harold (not a computer buff) said that when you turned it on, it just did nothing after the POST. I booted it in safe mode, rolled back to the last known good configuration, and booted again. It did work, but this particular configuration hadn't been one where the Ethernet connection was enabled. I found one that had, only to discover that the display adapter wasn't fully working in that one. After about an hour of futzing, I figured out which drivers I needed and got everything working. Of course, that then turned up the interesting fact that the last known good configuration was Windows XP Service Pack 1. So I spent another 3/4 hour downloading and installing Service Packs 2 and 3. Then there were 110 Windows Updates that had to be installed, and then some other ones...it was nearly 5:30 pm before I finished. However, my brother now has a working computer.

I had begun to soak my insulin pouches while I was doing this and forgot them. They then absorbed too much water and became quite distended. I shall have to wait for weeks while they slowly dry out.

So, around 7 pm our friend Linda drove my sister and me to the airport, after bidding farewell to Harold. I was apprehensive. Tales of woe about the TSA are legion and I had visions of going berserk like that gentleman last week and tearing off all my clothing at the barrier.

At bag drop I was happy for two reasons: first, I was exactly at the limit above which I would have had to pay a shedload of money for an overweight bag. Second, a large group of teenagers arrived after I did to check in, so I was in front of them, rather than behind.

Security was not too harrowing; I always get ready by taking off belt, removing wallet, keys, and everything from my pockets before I get to the security area. Got through OK; I was a bit apprehensive about the X-ray screening but it was fairly easy. Then I emerged and a very big, very beefy, TSA agent man of colour with a very bushy beard stood in my path and said something I didn't catch. Turns out I just had to wait until people cleared out of the bag pickup line.

Then came the long wait with crying children, large group of teenagers (the same one that I beat to bag drop), and too few seats. As the flight left at 10:20 pm, I figured that they would serve a snack before turning out the lights, and then a fuller breakfast than usual. As diabetics need to eat regularly, I had a roast beef and cheddar sandwich and a Diet Coke, plus a chocolate chip cookie for emergencies on the plane. Keep all this in mind.

More mindless waiting. One of the teenagers, lounging around (as teenagers are wont to do), leaned against one of the emergency exits and set a very loud alarm off, and then I boarded. Plane was full (I think they all are these days) and I sat next to an Indian guy who took out his noise-cancelling headphones and put them on immediately. No Chatty Cathy here, I thought.

Well, we took off and, about an hour later, the air stewardess came to me with a full tray (I'd ordered diabetic meals). I told her that as a diabetic nearly midnight was too late for me to eat and I'd already had dinner. I took the water, refused the food, and felt bad about it, but I didn't think it was a good idea to stuff myself when not hungry.

Then, of course, I had to endure the food smells for an hour while everyone else ate dinner (except for my neighbour, who was asleep).

So, as one does, I had to use the lavatory. When I returned to my seat, i tried to slither in without disturbing any of my neighbours. I started to slip, and grasped the headrest, which promptly fell off the seat. So, I tried to put it back, but it wouldn't stay very well. I just wedged it between myself and the seat and got about 1 hour's sleep before they fed us again and circled Heathrow for 20 minutes before landing.

The Indian guy, when he took off his headphones, ended up being a Chatty Cathy, but I just had to man up and take it.

Terminal 5 is one of the wonders of modern technology, but there is one problem: it's too big. We got off the plane and walked for around 10 minutes before getting to the train, which would take us to the main building and Immigration. Of course, a couple of escalators were out of commission, forcing a long shuffle out of the train and up to the Immigration hall. I was by then too groggy to note that since I have an electronic-tagged passport, I could have used an automatic machine to read it and verify my status here. Instead, I waited in line, got through, and went down to collect my luggage.

In contradistinction to the Boston arrival, my bag was already on the carousel when I arrived there so I got out almost immediately. Off to the Heathrow Express and then arrive at Paddington. The taxi rank used to be to the right as you got off the Heathrow Express. Well, they've constructed a new one, but (like everything nowadays) it was far far away and in another galaxy, it seemed. It's now to the left, all the way at the rear of the station and up an escalator. Got home £25 later (but with a very nice taxi driver, who I will thank here).

After all this aggravation, I guess I was due for a pleasant surprise. There's always a pile of post when I get home, and it's never really pleasant to go through. So many magazines to read, letters from hospitals, and misdirected post—I normally despair.

There were two letters from Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs. These rarely are good news. However, when I opened the smaller one a cheque for £511.66 fell out! It was a tax refund for the year 2008-2009. I was flabbergasted! I had no idea I was due one. (Note to USans: if you are a wage slave and have no or few investments, no matter how much you make here the tax removed from your paycheck is considered sufficient and you don't have to actually file a tax return. However, this means that if you are due a refund HMRC takes its own sweet time in returning it.) Being greeted by a cheque is one of the best ways to return home, only exceeded by greeting HWMBO when he returned home after work.

I'd like to thank all those who took the time to see me, have a meal with me, or just hang out with me—you know who you are, vasilatos, rsc, jwg, momshapedbox, Sarav, Bob, Margaret, Zeke, and especially Fraf. And, of course, thanks to the family, now enlarged with proto-sister-in-law, nephew, and niece. My brother put up with me injecting my insulin at the kitchen table, wanting to watch BBC World in the morning, and cooking soup he can't stand.

I don't know when I'll be back, but I will try to come back within a year, the state of my feet permitting. I'll also try not to break the seat back on the plane and eat better.

Oh, and happy 86th birthday to Her Majesty the Queen! I am well and truly back!

I am just now discovering the utility of discarding things when you return from holiday.

• I would normally have carried an almost full bar of soap with me. I have left it here for my brother.


• I would normally have come back with my 1/2 full small bottle of mouthwash. I've left it here, along with the nearly (but not quite) empty pump jar of Epaderm skin lotion. I've got lots at home.


• I removed my insulin pen needles from their (relatively largish for the number left) box and put them in a small Ziploc bag.


• I have removed almost all packaging from the things I bought here, unless it actually contained what I wanted.

This will leave me with a couple more grams, perhaps as much as a pound, in which to take things home and not fall foul of the 51 pound/23 kilogram limit on a bag. Will test it out when I get it fully packed. That is not to mention the increased room in the suitcase.

I've also discovered that rolling your jockey shorts, t-shirts, polo shirts, and jeans when placing them in the suitcase is much more economical of room (and make more cushioning) than folding them, however, carefully. I may carry a shedload of rubber bands next time to ensure that they stay rolled.

We shall see anon. It's 11:05 am, and I'm close to the end of packing now…

It only remains for me to write about my last week in Marblehead and the impending trip home.

Monday was quiet. My sister and I went shopping for the traditional materials I take back with me. Irish Spring deodorant soap (British soap is terrible), Skippy Super Chunk peanut butter (ditto British peanut butter), minced clams, Bell's seasoning, and aspirin. I also bought, at the request of HWMBO, some socks which have turned out to be extremely good; I am very happy with them and I bought a dozen pairs.

Before this we went to a new sub shop in Danvers called Firehouse Subs. It is a chain from the southern US, I gather. However, I was a bit put off on entering the shop. The staffer who opened the door said, "Welcome to Firehouse Subs!" So far so good. Then all the four staffers inside yelled "Welcome to Firehouse Subs!" I was put off.

Then one of the staff went through the menu. Any menu that takes more than 10 seconds of explaining is already in serious trouble with me. We gathered that all the subs were toasted except for a couple that I can't remember. There are all sorts of things about the subs that she told us that I've now forgotten. I ordered the equivalent of Subway's BMT, but a small one. It was toasted, and, while perfectly edible, does not stack up to Subway's bountiful goodness.

That evening I made American chop suey for the family—as usual my culinary efforts were praised as it was one of my mom's favourite ways of stretching a pound of hamburger.

Tuesday was Lodge night. Before Lodge my friend Rick took me to a retirement party for the Harbourmaster of Marblehead. He had been a neighbour of ours when I was growing up, and now he's retiring at 60. I would have passed him by on the street, I fear, but best wishes to him and his family in their retirement, although he admitted that he'd have to find something else to do to occupy his time.

Off to Lodge at 6pm, where two men would be initiated. The last time I saw a Philanthropic initiation, I had not yet initiated any men into Goliath Lodge. So the fact that I could now compare and contrast the two ceremonies was instructive. The Lodge was full.

Dinner was steak, and it was fantastic. Not too many places you can get a $15 steak dinner.

Then back to Lodge, where seven men were honoured with pins for having completed 50 and 60 years in Philanthropic Lodge and Freemasonry. The 5 or 6 men who had completed 65 years did not make it (seeing as they would be in their upper 80's, not surprising). The District Deputy Grand Master had arrived, in top hat and purple apron, with a large retinue, to distribute the pins. He then took himself and the retinue away, and we completed the initiation ceremony in solemn form and perfect harmony. The business meeting (with a much reduced attendance as most of the Brethren had left after the initiation was completed) concentrated on the impending increase in Grand Lodge dues (to around $60 from $30) and the impending increase in mandatory initiation fees from $100 to $300. There is little chance of the second passing, but the dues increase is likely to pass. Much discussion on this point. Lodge was then closed at around 10:30pm.

When Harold and I went to his truck, someone had parked within a couple of inches of his front bumper and illegally too close to the corner. Harold went back to the Temple and found the Brother who is Police dispatcher. He found out who the owner of the car was, and roused her to move it. She was mystified as to how they'd found out where she was, but she moved her car and we drove home.

Wednesday I started packing during the day, and secured (I hope) the rye whiskey in bubble wrap and cocooned it in clothing in the suitcase. I do hope it gets through. I did not take all the stuff I bought on Monday—my sister will pack it and ship it by slow boat. In the middle of all this I cooked split pea with ham soup, using the bone and meat from Easter's ham. Neither my brother nor sister like it, but my brother's girlfriend and her son do, so it's a parting gift for them.

In the evening we were off in search of a Kindle Fire. Harold's girlfriend has one and he and I both wanted one. The difficulty is this: it is only fully operational in the United States. In the UK, its functionality is severely limited. Had I done some online research, I could have saved Harold some money as I would probably have skipped it. However, we tooled off to Peabody's Northshore Mall (one of the first malls in the country) to Radio Shack to buy one. We wandered through the mall; I tried to get them to stop at a map but it's hard to tell a Marbleheader to stop and look at a map. Finally we discovered that we'd passed it and, when we finally got to the spot, the shopfront was empty. It had closed.

So we were off to Vinnin Square in Swampscott, where we scored one. I managed to connect it to Harold's WiFi, bought a book, and discovered the limitations I was about to have. I did want to subscribe to the New Yorker, as the Kindle Fire is the only online venue for a subscription to that magazine, but the subscription can only be bought in the United States with a US credit card. Rats. I live in hope that the device will soon be rolled out worldwide and that some of these limitations will be lifted.

The great thing about devices such as the Kindle and iPad is that, with one fell swoop, items that were expensive or unavailable in one place can be made available at minimal cost. The exposure of these items will be much more general, and global civilisation will be enhanced (in the case of the New Yorker) or degraded (in the case of lots of these games available on the Kindle). The difficulties stem from worldwide copyright and exclusivity agreements, which serve not to enhance the availability of information and literature, but to restrict it. I hope I survive to see such agreements ended.

Afterwards we had burgers at Five Guys. I had never been to one, and was a bit apprehensive. The bacon cheeseburger was quite oily, and loaded with stuff, but tasted good. I only had about 6 fries, and found them limp and oily without being crisp on the outside. I hadn't ordered any, but only nibbled at my brother's serving (a large order, which spilled over into the bag). I'm glad, as my blood sugar was normal this morning, which it would not have been had I eaten lots of fries. I don't know about my brother's blood sugar, but I'll bet it was a bit high this morning.

Today is the final day here in Marblehead. I'll be washing the bed linens, finishing my packing, trying to get Harold's computer working, and getting myself psyched up for the trip. I'm leaving at 10:30 pm from Logan, and getting in around 9am to Terminal 5 at Heathrow. So the next time you see me here, I'll be back home. On tap this weekend: I have to write a sermon through my jetlag, and attend a PCC meeting at St. Matthew's to approve a shedload of financial accounts for forwarding to the Diocese.

It's been fun, but I want to go home!

This has been a mixed week. I've already posted about Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday and Thursday were quiet days, on which I did little or nothing.

On Friday I had lunch with Dawn Bucket, née Fraffie Welch. I think I've written about Fraf before. She is the "local colour" opinion columnist for the Marblehead Reporter, and her opinions are forthright. She tools around town, berating motorists who run the stop sign at Pond and Green Streets, wonders aloud why the Pledge of Allegiance is not recited before Town Meeting (answer: No one seems to know.), and generally raises hell.

She says that I'm her biggest fan; I don't think that's true, as everyone in town reads her column and I'm sure that people who are closer to Marblehead also think a lot of her. We correspond regularly, and when I'm in Town we go out to lunch. So, Fraf took me to the Boston Yacht Club.

I have arrived.

The most prestigeous yacht club in a town with three or four of them, they have a great club building next to the water in Old Town, and have a reputation for great food. We ended up in the bar, where over one very powerful Manhattan we discussed Town affairs, and ranged up to Gloucester where one occasional guest at Hammond Castle years ago raised my eyebrows. But, more important, we decided to have the same dish. Now, trawnapanda, you are not allowed to comment, either snidely or not, on this. I have never in my entire life had lobster. My mother set one on the floor one day to scare me when I was little, and perhaps that's why I dislike seafood to this day. However, Fraf recommended the lobster roll, and I decided that I should try it once.

It was very good.

Later on in the afternoon I went into Boston to see my Facebook friend Sarav. It will probably be our only chance to meet for years to come, as he is moving from Cambridge to San Francisco next month. He is a fabulous guy from India who has adopted the US as his country. He dances classical Indian dance, is a crack coder, and has a very nice dog. We had chai and samosas, and discussed everything under the sun as we waited for people to come to buyhis bedroom set.

They never showed. So I did not have a chance to go out to dinner with him. However, he ferried me to Haymarket where I took the bus back to Marblehead. I wish him all the best in San Francisco; he is handsome, personable, and an all-round lovely person. SF needs to send about 10 people back here to Cambridge just to replace him here.

The transportation to and from Cambridge was very crowded that day. I wonder about the future of the T, seeing as they are running a deficit and can't run more trains or buses than they are.

Today my friend momshapedbox drove up from Connecticut to see me. That was 2 hours on the road here and 2 hours back. I am so honoured. Sue is what my mom would call a "hot ticket"—so bubbly and dynamic that it sometimes takes my breath away. She is also the mother of boyshapedbox, whom I have never met but who is a really great guy living in San Francisco with his husband and brightening up the Castro and Dolores Park. Sue and I drove up to Gloucester for two main reasons: first, I haven't been there in years, and second, I wanted to pick up some special rye whiskey that is distilled there. We parked on Main Street and had two hours to stroll and eat. We walked down and back and decided on Italian, which was very good. We went past my high school teacher's old place, 128 Main Street, which has gone from a Bohemian flat where movies and art were made to a CPA's office. Harry must be turning in his urn. I had my first glasses of wine there, learned an awful lot about myself and other people, and enjoyed Harry's wit, good humour, and joy in life.

We found a package store, and, lo and behold, I found one bottle of Ryan & Wood Straight Rye Whiskey, hand labelled "Barrel #11, Bottle #216". It was $38, but I had to have one and I got it. I won't have a chance to taste it until I get back to London, but I'm anticipating a lovely experience.

Tomorrow I will probably go to church, and then in the afternoon it's the traditional visit to Outback Restaurant in Peabody, where prime rib will be consumed and a good time will be had by all.

There once was a woman who woke up one morning, looked in the mirror, and noticed she had only three hairs on her head.

"Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today." So she did and she had a wonderful day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and saw that she had only two hairs on her head."H-M-M," she said, "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today." So she did and she had a grand day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head."Well," she said, "Today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail." So she did, and she had a fun, fun day.

The next day she woke up, looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head."YAY!" she exclaimed."I don't have to fix my hair today!"

Attitude is everything.
Be kinder than necessary,
For everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
Live simply,
Love generously,
Care deeply,
Speak kindly.

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...
It's about learning to dance in the rain

Yes, I know this is hokey, and should be posted on Facebook, but I couldn't resist. So many of my problems in life can be traced to bad attitude. And I'm getting close to the three hairs on my head phase in any case.

I haven't posted since last Saturday or Sunday, so it's time for more posting.

Monday was a banner day, in that I met vasilatos and, of course, Penny Lane, who studiously ignored me whenever she was let out of the bag.

I started out waiting for the bus to Boston in front of Starbucks. When it came, I had my dollar bills in hand and asked what the fare was. "$3.80 in cash, $2.80 with a CharlieCard[1]." I replied, "I'm a tourist; I don't have a CharlieCard." The bus driver immediately said, "Do you want one?" He sold me one on the bus and I put $20 on it. (It did take a while to get the farebox to realise that the piece of paper I was giving it was a $20 bill.)

That scene would not have been possible on a London bus with an Oystercard. I am heartened by the future of public transport.

The bus trip, however, was a different story. As I'm now used to traveling on public transport in London with all sorts of people, from bishops to just regular Joes and Janes, I was a bit downcast that public transport on the North Shore of Massachusetts seems to be for the impoverished and the non-Caucasian. I had temporarily forgotten that only very poor (and very young) people here in the US rely on public transport for anything.

Got to Haymarket in the North End of Boston, took the Orange and Red lines to Central Station in Cambridge, and waited in front of a Walgreens for jwg, "rsc, and vasilatos to arrive. Of course, they already had and were in the restaurant waiting for me. I, of course, never having been to this particular restaurant, had no idea where it was. Robert finally rescued me from the surroundings, including some rather disreputable characters who sat on the bench next to me and tried to fall asleep on me.

We were having Eritrean food at Asmara Restaurant. A month ago or so I tried to make injera bread. I got the teff flour, prepared it according to the recipes I'd seen, and then cooked two. They were terrible. Tasted like dirt.

The injera at Asmara was nice, just sour enough, and did not taste as if it had been prepared from the contents of the vacuum cleaner bag. The food was quite good; I can't tell you what it was I ate except for generic words like "lamb", "chicken", and "salad", but I thoroughly enjoyed it. When I get home I will upload pictures and post them.

After that, vasilatos and I went to visit her mother, the children's author Lois Lowry, who is just delightful. Over cups of tea we discovered that we have several mutual acquaintances in the Episcopal/Anglican world, and she gave me an inscribed copy of her book about church mice, Bless this Mouse, which looks to be delightful.

After this vasilatos and I looked for her favourite Chinese food to take away for her dinner, and I seem to have impressed her by saying "谢谢" to the waitress when she delivered the order.

At this point we went to MIT to find her friend Richard Stallman, which was an ultimately unsuccessful enterprise, requiring us to maneuver in a very modern building that seemed to have been designed to defeat those who were visiting it. We found his office finally, but he wasn't in. Oh well.

We then drove to Alewife Station, where vasilatos's hotel was, and I got on the T and went to Harvard Square to meet my friends Margaret and Bob. Thanks to vasilatos for ferrying me around and introducing me to her mother. And, of course, keeping Penny Lane from tearing me limb from limb.

I sat at Harvard Square for a while, and discovered that Margaret and Bob were already in the Russell House Tavern waiting for me. I finally discovered it (around the corner from the T entrance) and we had a lovely dinner. I had "Maine Co-Op Steak Frites" and a Manhattan (always nice to have a cocktail before dinner). It was perfect (the steak) and the Manhattan was great. Margaret had a selection of plates, which included one poached egg, Brussels sprouts, and mushrooms. She was delighted with the egg, which was lovely. We all caught up with each other and, when dinner was over, Margaret volunteered to drive me back to Marblehead, which was so thoughtful. We had a bit of trouble getting onto the T to get her car. She hasn't used the T for a while because of access issues, and her CharlieCard had expired. But we finally got to her car and then home to Marblehead. Morning and evening, Monday.

Tuesday I had lunch at the Town Wharf with my friend Zeke from Salem, where we compared our various ailments. The weather was a bit on the chilly side, but we ate on the outside patio anyway. Another Manhattan…I have been very bad so far. I walked from my brother's home near the cemetery to the Landing Restaurant, and then to my brother's auto repair garage. My feet have survived. I'm very grateful. Morning and evening, Tuesday.

Wednesday I did nothing all day. I suppose it was recovering from Monday and Tuesday. I have decided that manically running around for the entire period of my holiday requires a long period of recuperation afterwards. Thus, the occasional day off is welcome. In the evening Harold and I went to Bertucci's Restaurant in Swampscott for dinner, where I had spaghetti and meatballs, which was a personal mistake. They were delicious, but my blood sugar was quite high this morning, sadly. Morning and evening, Wednesday.

Today I have nothing planned, but I think I'll mosey downtown and go to a package store to find some Ryan and Wood rye whiskey, distilled in Gloucester. I suspect I may have difficulty and it may cost an arm and a leg. However, from Bob's description, it sounds like it's worth it. I'll take it back to the UK as my permitted import.

Coming up, lunch tomorrow with Dawn Bucket, the local opinion columnist for the Marblehead Reporter. We're good friends (she calls me "her biggest fan", even though I read her column in London) and the lunch should be spirited, as we both have deeply-held opinions about the Old Town and how it's changed over the years. Tomorrow evening, a visit with my friend Sarav in Cambridge. Saturday, momshapedbox is coming up from Connecticut to pal around during the afternoon. On Low Sunday I hope to attend St. Michael's Episcopal Church here—298 years young, then go to my favourite steak restaurant in the whole world, Outback in Peabody. Yes, it's hokey and a chain, but the prime rib is really good, and I'm being treated by my Lodge brother Rick, along with my brother, their spouses, and who knows who else?

Monday I have nothing on yet, and Tuesday is Philanthropic Lodge's 2121st regular meeting. It's the last one I can attend as a Ruling Master, as I install my successor next month. I'm looking forward to it (both events). Wednesday nothing scheduled yet, then Thursday evening back to London.

[1]The CharlieCard is the MBTA's equivalent of the Oystercard in London. Touch pads on the buses and trains, refill at T stations and various other places, monthly passes available as well. Very much like the Oystercard except that you can buy one on a bus.

I didn't go to church today. As I'm in Marblehead, I felt that I didn't want to be with a lot of people I didn't know in the crowds that normally show up on Easter Day. Instead, I'll go to church on Low Sunday, which ought to be less crowded. Perhaps it'll be a token of my gratitude as I won't have to preach that day. St. John's has invited me to preach on the last three or four Low Sundays, and the Gospel is always the same, Doubting Thomas. Now there is a lot to be said about Doubting Thomas, but I am out of inspiration for the moment and am immensely grateful that I don't have to pull another Easter Bunny out of my Low Sunday biretta.

My brother, Harold, hosted our family today for Easter. His girlfriend, Beth, is a fabulous cook, so we had a great dinner. I cooked creamed onions, but she cooked a large ham, potatoes, a pineapple casserole, something with green beans in it, and brought dips and dessert.

This was also a nice day in that I met her son, Jason, and his fiancée, Clarissa. Now I don't think that Harold and Beth will ever actually get married, but I would like to claim Jason and Clarissa as nephew and niece. I don't have a picture of Clarissa, as she took the picture, but I do have a picture of the family.

Neither my sister nor my brother has had children, so I've never been an uncle. Jason is sitting to my right, with my brother gurning between Jason and me. My sister is in the lower right, and Beth in the lower left.

Jason is ethnic Korean, adopted by Beth at age 1. He is a nurse, about to start a job as a dialysis nurse. Clarissa is about to enter nursing school. She is Filipina. Their family, after they get married, will be a fine-looking one.

Even though I'll never legally be an uncle, it is nice to finally have some family (even an honorary one) other than one sister, one brother, and three first cousins. So I guess an extended family is what the Easter Bunny brought me today. Better than eggs.

…is brought to you by Dr. Who.

From Universe Today comes this article, which predicted global warming in 1981. This was the first printed warning, 31 years ago. We have indeed been warmed…er…warned.

The headline says most of it. I was very nervous about flying for the first time in three years. Security has been rumoured to be a pain at airports, and I was also flying with insulin in cold bags. Plus, I had to leave the house in rush hour, which didn't make me feel any better.

However, Fate smiled on me, it seems. I packed on Monday and Tuesday, and made lists, which I crossed out when I'd completed each item. The only thing I forgot is a non-Masonic bow tie.

I took the Heathrow Express after getting to Paddington on the Underground. I only had to carry my suitcase down one flight of stairs, and my backpack was not too heavy, so I made it without incident. When I dropped my suitcase off at Terminal 5, it was 19 kg, which is four kg under the limit, thus leaving me lots of room for all the things I need to buy here and carry back with me.

The gate that the plane left from was almost the furthest away from the centre of the terminal you can get. I had paid to select a wider seat than normal, the only drawback being that it was almost at the rear of the plane. It was worth it, though. More legroom, only one neighbour (who hardly impinged on my consciousness), and only two screaming babies. Watched "The Iron Lady", which I thought good, although Denis Thatcher appearing all the time as a hallucination to Lady Thatcher was kind of unnerving.

I had asked for the diabetic meal, and it was surprisingly good. Chicken paella, a roll and salad, and (I think) rice pudding. They kept after me to have wine or liquor, and I refused and asked for Diet Coke, which they ran out of by the middle of the flight. Then an hour before landing at Logan, they handed me a sandwich, labelled "Chickpea Paté and Tomato". It was surprisingly ungood. I had to ask for a coffee to choke it down.

Decanting at Logan was very slow. The Indian lady across the aisle kept getting up and swinging her capacious handbag around, clobbering me in the head. Being long-suffering, I didn't make a fuss. Immigration was slow (as I was almost the last to get into the queue), and when I got up to the agent he did ask more questions than usual: how long have you been away (18 years, said I. Oh, you live there! he said.), what do you do (rather than explain everything I just said "Retired"), why are you here ("Visiting relatives").

And then there was the luggage carousel. Apparently they were examining the bags more thoroughly as they dribbed and drabbed onto the carousel. The non-US citizens line was also travelling more slowly, so the carousel was full of unclaimed-as-yet baggage. A woman agent was taking bags off the carousel and piling them up to make room. Sod's Law meant that mine was one of the last bags to come up the ramp. Out the door into the wide US world.

My brother and sister were waiting outside the airport in a parking lot for my call that I was out of Immigration and Customs and ready to be picked up. My mobile phone took forever to connect to the network, but I managed to call and duly got picked up.

My friend Fraf, who is the local-colour columnist for the Marblehead town newspaper, called and suggested that we take a ride around town to look at all the ugly new buildings that are going up. There are a lot of new McMansions on Marblehead Neck, most of which are pretty ugly and just show that, zoning laws or no zoning laws, there is no accounting for taste. I still haven't been downtown to see the scars left by the demolition of the old YMCA (now a parking lot) and the old movie theatre and First National Store (now a building site). Must try to do that this afternoon.

We went out to dinner in the evening with my brother's girlfriend, whom I have never met in person but only spoken to on the phone. She is very nice—a much better match with my brother than his ex-wife ever was. We went to the big Chinese restaurant in Salem, which never ceases to amaze me. You get Chinese tea without asking (you always have to pay for it in the UK), they bring rolls and butter to the table (just bizarre), and the meal is so big that you can never eat the whole thing. I got orange chicken, and the amount was absolutely stupefying. We took about 1/2 of it home and that's lunch, I think.

We went food shopping for Easter. Lots of ham, onions for creamed onions, dip stuff, cream cheese with olives, the whole nine yards. Her adopted son is Korean—quite a hottie, if I do say so, and quite straight. He's a nurse; his girlfriend is Filipina, also a nurse. I believe there is a daughter as well but am slightly unsure. I'll meet them all on Easter.

Jetlag is minimal at the moment, barring being awake at 5 am. I've hooked my netbook up to a full-size monitor and keyboard and mouse, and use LogMeIn to connect with my computer in London. So I've not had to accumulate thousands of emails on the servers while I'm away; I can download them to London from here. I haven't gotten the WiFi password here yet—my brother is not computer-savvy so I'm unsure how to get it. I think that his girlfriend's son might know.

The only downer here is that my brother's dog, Mickey, is 14 years old and infirm. He pads around, eats a bit, barks very little, and has cataracts. I don't know what my brother will do when Mickey gets to the point of being so ill that he has to be put to sleep. Time to go watch BBC World now.

As I'm about to embark for Marblehead tomorrow, I thought I'd take a look at what was going on crimewise in the Old Town. Here are some of the choicer items.

12:42 a.m. Chandler Hovey Park emptied and gate secured.
5:50 a.m. Caller reported suspicious truck that is often seen in the early morning hours in lot of the medical building on Widger Road and is sometimes joined by another vehicle. Officer spoke to person in the truck, who said he or she was waiting for the building to open. Officer described the person as “uncooperative” during his investigation.
10:47 a.m. Assisted Powder House Court resident who might have left door unlocked and radio on upon leaving for a few days. Officer ensured that the radio was off and that the door was secure.
11:57 a.m. Caller reported skateboarder hanging onto the back of a green vehicle driving in the area of Ocean Avenue and Nanepashemet Street. Skateboarder could not be located.
12:23 p.m. Conducted well-being check on Franklin Street after residents were found not to be home for meal delivery. Residents were located up the street at a funeral. Council on Aging notified.
1:01 p.m. Chief requested officer try to locate principal of painting business whose trailer was parked on Front Street with cones around it. Upon arrival, owner was at the scene and said he would move the trailer.
2:34 p.m. Investigated report of accident involving bus and Jeep in front of lower Bell School. Caller reported that no kids were involved but that the drivers appeared to need some assistance exchanging information.
2:37 p.m. Provided escort for person needing to retrieve property on Story Terrace.
3:37 p.m. Kids loitering reported on second floor of Village Plaza.
3:45 p.m. Caller reported issue with tailor, who had put a stop-payment on a check issued as compensation after tailor had reportedly lost pants from caller’s suit.
4:05 p.m. Caller reported suspicious man pacing back and forth while talking on a phone on Ocean Avenue. Man worked down on the docks and had just been conducting a normal phone call.
6:11 p.m. Anonymous caller reported that there was a “completely naked” woman and man taking pictures of her on Ocean Avenue. Officer spoke to a group of clothed people but could not find the alleged naked person.Words fail me, my Lords.
6:48 p.m. Two suspicious men were reported near parked cars on West Street. Officer found the men and spoke to them; they checked out OK.
6:55 p.m. Walk-in reported having lost family heirloom diamond ring. He believed it fell off his finger in the area of Atlantic Avenue and Phillips Street.
7:11 p.m. Walked through house with homeowner after alarm on Churchill Road. All was found to be in order.
7:22 p.m. Caller on Green Street reported between three and five black women running up and down the street and yelling and making noise, causing dogs to bark. Officer spoke to two women who were just being a little loud and sent them on their way. All was well.
9:52 p.m. Caller reported group of kids in parking lot being loud on Lime Street. One took off upon caller’s arrival. They were leaving as officers arrived.
10:16 p.m. Lift assistance provided on Tufts Street.
10:23 p.m. Investigated report of underage party on Arnold Terrace. Kids were observed running in every direction upon officers’ arrival. Log notes, “They must have a scanner, or they were notified by someone listening.”

So all is well in the Old Town. I shall keep my eyes peeled for naked people being photographed, underage parties gathered around a police scanner, or old people attending funerals. All will be well.

Simon Hoggart in the Grauniad made an observation yesterday that was quite interesting.

To quote:

…once the media decide on the "narrative" about a government, it is as easy to shift as it is to turn an oil tanker through 180 degrees on a stormy sea. Journalists and broadcasters decided that the Major government was sleazy, then that Blair told terrible porkies, and are in the process of deciding that this lot are comically inept in every field, from kitchen suppers and emergency petrol storage to Cornish pasties. And once that happens, once the press decides that it's dealing with the gang that couldn't shoot straight, the perception is almost impossible to shift.

Note for USans and others: "Porkies" is rhyming slang for "lies", as in "porky pies=lies".

This is true in the US as well, but sometimes only in retrospect. Nixon, after his resignation, was seen as a liar, bigot, and sleazeball, and so was his entire administration. This glossed over some of his achievements, such as the rapproachment with China. Ford was seen as a stumblebum who had suffered too many knocks to the head while playing football. However, his achievement was to stabilise the country after the general disruption to life of the Watergate scandals.

Jimmy Carter was seen as an amiable Southern gentleman farmer who didn't quite get it. (Remember the "fireside chats" with him wearing a sweater rather than turning up the thermostat?) Reagan was the Nation's Grandfather who was so old he napped in the afternoons, talked a small government but drove up the national debt to record levels. Bush the First was a patrician who hated broccoli and had no idea what a supermarket scanner was—seriously out of touch with little people. Clinton was a hillbilly who couldn't keep his zipper closed, but presided over 8 years of surpluses and was a very shrewd lawyer. Bush the Second was so stupid that as the joke said when his library burned down he rued the fact that both colouring books were lost, and he hadn't even finished one of them. He reacted slowly to 9/11, and was the warmonger who invaded Afghanistan and Iraq, thus bequeathing problems to his successor. We're still too close to Bush's time to see what the truth behind the generalisation was, and I wouldn't want to speculate on Obama's repute just yet. We're still in the middle of it.

This morning I went to the Foot Clinic for the normal 3-week foot checkup. While it took me around an hour and a half to be seen, the news was good: the wound from the operation in November has finally closed. So, I no longer need a dressing or pad on my left foot. I also no longer need to take antibiotics. I will have an emergency prescription for two weeks, just in case (I'll take that to the US with me) but I won't be taking them routinely.

The more worrying appointment was this afternoon. In January I went to Guys Hospital to have pictures taken of my retinas. As you may or may not be aware, my diabetes diagnosis was made in 1992 because I had diabetic retinopathy and laser surgery. Since then I've had to regularly attend the eye clinic at St. Thomas's to have an opthalmologist take a look. Last year, instead of having me make an appointment at St. Thomas's, they "discharged" me to Guys for retinal pictures. I duly went and had pictures taken. A couple of days later I got a letter saying that the person who examined the pictures had some concerns, so they had made an appointment at St. Thomas's.

Well, I went there at 2 pm, was dilated, and then a scan was taken, followed by an examination by a (very cute) ophthalmologist. He took a look and said that everything was fine. My question to him was: why was I discharged to Guys, and then what was of concern to the people over there that they referred me back to St. Thomas's. He didn't know, and fumbled around for a meaningful answer. I suspect that they try to save money by discharging people to Guys when their eyes are stable, but my examination record didn't follow me there. So the people at Guys were concerned about something that hadn't changed and that wasn't concerning. So, I'm back on a yearly exam schedule with St. Thomas's. No more pictures at Guys.

So, I had a celebratory mocha at Starbucks on my way home.

It's been one of those months, really.

On the positive side, I'm getting psyched up for my first trip out of the country in near as dammit three years. My various foot problems have made it impossible for me to travel for almost all of that time. I'm just hoping that nothing happens to my feet (or any other part of me) while I'm over there. I tried to get travel insurance that included health cover, and the insurance company, once I told them everything that was wrong with me, wouldn't cover me for any preexisting health situations. This means if I get hit by a bus over there, I may be covered. If my feet get ulcerated again, I won't be. Will have to be extra careful.

I'm memorising the installation of my successor as Master of Goliath Lodge. It's been a very interesting two years. You may recall that I was sprung from Kings College Hospital in order to be installed two years ago, then clapped right back into it. I've initiated four men, passed two, and raised three. Another two men were initiated while I was hospitalised for one further meeting. So we've done pretty well. I memorised all the degrees except for the first half of the Third Degree, which is fairly good going. I am now going to be able to sit there with the book as Immediate Past Master and prompt my successor.

Spring has sprung here in London quite early. We have had little rain or snow over the winter so we are officially in drought at the moment. But the blue skies and budding trees are lovely, especially as spring is normally extremely wet.

Our favourite Chinese restaurant at the Elephant, The Well, closed in January and has not, as yet, reopened. I fear that we've lost it. The inferior restaurant in front of the shopping centre is our only decent alternative.

Our friend Mark was diagnosed with diabetes. He's 41 years old, and has other health problems. Sad news. The doctor issued him with a blood glucose meter but didn't tell him how to use it. He called me in a panic, and I told him to come over and I showed him how to use it. He had a hard time stabilising his blood sugar, and was on insulin for a while, but is now off that and on metformin only.

We had two deaths in the parish in the last three weeks: Gwen Bartlett, a Barbadian woman who used to sit behind me in church and wisecrack her way through the service, was diagnosed with leukemia last month and died early in March. Pat Woods, who used to sit to my right and had been pretty much housebound for the past three years, collapsed in her flat and died a day after being taken to hospital. A third friend, Mara Chibnik, who many friends from soc.motss would know, passed away a few days ago after suffering from pancreatic cancer. I'm very sad about all three; may they rest in peace and rise in glory.

Yesterday I decided that rather than sit inside I'd go out and enjoy the day. I got on a bus for London Bridge, then on another one for Wood Green, then on a third one for Southgate Underground Station. The Masonic Temple where my Chapter meets is up there, and I was curious to see what it would be like to bus up there rather than take the Piccadilly Line. It was nearly two hours, mostly because of delays due to road works. There are lots of vibrant neighbourhoods up there, and I may someday soon take the bus again and actually get off and explore some of them. Once I get my Seniors' Freedom Pass in a year or so I may start bussing myself to those far-flung places rather than taking the Underground.

The good thing was seeing someone from Marblehead, who was visiting with his husband for a week last week. When I was living in Marblehead Peter's brothers used to bully me incessantly. Of course, things are different now and 40+ years later, we took to each other quite well. Peter and his husband John now live in Provincetown, and John is a registered nurse, while Peter is in hospitality. John nursed two people whom I knew in Provincetown, Ernie Cooper and his husband. So it's one of those small worlds once again.

Here they are, John on the left and Peter on the right. What lovely men they are! HWMBO and I were really happy to meet them, and I hope to visit Provincetown while I'm in Massachusetts to see them again.

This has been a pretty bleak week-and-a-half in politics. It started on Wednesday 21st April, when the Chancellor of the Exchequer, George Osborne (a millionaire and the heir to a baronetcy, eventually) gave his third Budget speech.

Budget Day in Parliament is surrounded by traditions dating back to the 19th Century. Up until relatively recently the details of the budget were kept secret until the Chancellor started speaking at 12:30pm, after a somewhat anemic Prime Minister's Questions, for on Budget Day the PM is definitely second-fiddle. This time, though, some of the details of the Budget were leaked beforehand, but not the parts that have caused the Government the most grief.

First was the so-called "pasty tax". There has been an anomaly in the VAT (value-added tax, a kind of sales tax on steroids) for hot food. VAT was charged on restaurant meals, but not on hot food to be taken away to eat elsewhere. Osborne announced that, from the beginning of the fiscal year (I believe it's April 2nd this year) VAT would be charged on food from shops and stalls which was served at a temperature "higher than the ambient temperature". This was meant to catch items like Cornish pastys which are normally served up hot at a stand, or sausage rolls sold at chains such as Greggs the Baker.

As soon as the Chancellor was finished speaking, questions began to be asked. "Ambient temperature" was thought to be quite an odd definition, as if it were a hot day it's likely that the sausage rolls might be cooler than the outside. Did that mean that the VAT should be charged or not depending on how hot it was outside? Cornish pasty shops (which have proliferated in the past ten years or so) warned that they would be forced to close if VAT of, say, 50 pence (around 75 cents) were to be charged on a £2.50 pasty.

The Prime Minister, David Cameron, tried to defuse the situation. When asked when was the last time he'd eaten a pasty, he replied that he'd recently had one at Leeds railway station, and very good it was, too. Of course, the local press went to Leeds station and discovered that the last pasty shop in the station had closed months ago (and Cameron hadn't been to Leeds in a while) and the last Cornish Pasty stall had closed several years ago. So, in his attempt to be seen as a man of the people, Cameron actually revealed that he wasn't very populist after all.

It seems likely that this charge will be disputed. It seems that if the pasty is sold cold, but facilities (such as a microwave) were available in the shop to heat it up, VAT won't be payable. So all the money that Cameron and Osborne counted on to come in from hungry working-class Brits may be lost if the pasty shops and stalls invest in a small microwave.

Second, Osborne forgot Rule #1 in politics: Do Not Increase Taxes or Reduce Payments to Old People. As in the US, there has been an increased exemption on income taxes for old age pensioners here. Osborne promised to increase pensions and remove this exemption. Of course, the newspapers correctly divined that this was a slight on older people, and started to call it the "Granny Tax". When Rule #1 is broken, the oldsters stop voting for those who broke it. I suspect that Cameron, Osborne, & Co. are betting that enough oldsters will kick off or be forgetful by 2015, when the next election is due. I also suspect that the news media won't allow the oldsters to forget it (they can't do much about old people dying, of course…)

Third, the top tax rate for people making over £150,000 a year was reduced from 50% to 45%. As Cameron, Osborne, & Co. are fairly wealthy, this was correctly diagnosed as taxing the poor (pasty-eaters and poor grannies) to give tax-breaks for the rich (who wouldn't know what a pasty looked like, keep their grannies well out of sight, and make squillions). The newspapers were chortling in their joy.

So the newspapers were full of this for a few days, with the commentators slavering over the budget. Then Sunday rolled around.

The Sunday Times reported that the Conservative Party treasurer, Peter Cruddas, had been stung by people posing as wealthy UK expat representatives of a foreign company. He had said that a donation of £100,000 was chicken-feed, while one of £250,000 (US$393,116 at current rates) would get you a private dinner in the Prime Minister's flat at Number 10 Downing Street, with pictures and perhaps with Mrs. Cameron there as well whipping up the potatoes.

What a gift, not only to the newspapers, but to the Labour Party. Ed Miliband, the Labour leader, immediately demanded a list of those who had had dinner at the PM's flat. The Conservatives wanted a list of all the labour union leaders who had access to Ed Miliband and who donate millions to Labour. The PM bleated that most of his dinner guests, while being donors, were also personal friends, and wasn't he entitled to have friends over for a pasty or a sausage roll? Oh, and Peter Cruddas resigned on Monday. The damage had been done. Fat cats were paying for access to the Prime Minister. Worse, the contribution that the stingers proposed would be highly illegal under UK election law, but Cruddas told them that there were ways of getting around that requirement. How many other contributors had given money illegally, asked Labour.

And this was only five days. Worse was to come.

This week the UNITE union, which represents drivers of petrol delivery tankers (=US gasoline tankers), voted to strike. The leadership of the union was leaning towards a strike over the Easter holiday. In the UK, the Easter holiday is a traditional travel time, with people visiting their grannies (who will be so impoverished by their tax increases that they won't be able to offer them a pasty) and driving a lot. The possibility of a strike raised the spectre of people not being able to drive to their granny's place, or to the airport to catch a plane to see Granny.

The Government put forward Francis Maude, the Cabinet Officer minister, to speak on the problem. Mr Maude told motorists they should keep a jerry can in the garage to cope with a potential fuel shortage, and top up their gas tanks. This was widely reported in the newspapers.

The fire brigades were aghast. The rules on keeping gasoline on private premises are strict. A jerry can holds around 20 liters of gasoline and is made of metal. However, if you want to keep gasoline in your UK garage you are allowed only two plastic containers holding up to 5 liters apiece. The fire fighters went public with their information and the government hastily amended its advice. Too late.

A 46-year-old woman, who was trying to help her daughter who was out of money and gasoline, tried to decant fuel from a jerry can into a glass jug in her kitchen. The oven was on at the time. You can guess the rest. The woman suffered burns over 40% of her body when the gasoline fumes ignited and set her clothing on fire. She is now in hospital, and we hope she will recover fully.

The Government was caught napping on this one. Besides the duff advice on storing gasoline, long queues formed at gas stations, which promptly ran out of fuel, even though the strike hadn't even been called yet. Fights broke out in places. Keeping gas tanks topped up meant that, two days ago, the UK pumped 150% of a normal day's supply of gasoline.

The newspapers and some politicians yelled for Francis Maude's head. The Government rescinded its advice. Worse was to come—the UNITE union called off any potential strike over Easter.

The Conservatives tried to get Labour to condemn the strike, which was unlikely given the fact that UNITE is a large bankroller of the Labour Party. Ed Miliband said that a strike would not be a good thing and urged both sides to get around the negotiating table. Grown-up words from Lbour, for a change.

The news was not all rosy for Labour, however. Elections here are normally on a Thursday, and a byelection in Bradford, a northern city that has a large number of Muslim residents, had been called to replace a Labour MP who had to resign on health grounds. The seat has been a Labour one for more than 40 years.

However, George Galloway, a maverick politician here in the UK who was kicked out of Labour for protesting against the Iraq war in 2003, and who beat a Labour candidate in East London in 2005, stood for the Bradford seat. He turned a safe Labour seat into a huge Labour rout. He won by more than 10,000 votes.

Galloway was carried in trumph on the shoulders of his supporters out of the counting hall at 3am. The Labour candidate, who had taken victory somewhat for granted, left the counting hall without making the traditional concession speech. He hasn't surfaced since; I'll bet he's stinging a bit. Galloway took a victory tour the next day in an open-top double-decker bus, where the good citizens of Bradford West cheered as he passed. This is the first time that the official Opposition has lost a byelection for decades. Now Galloway, who has been on Big Brother, and was famously filmed in a leotard pretending to lick cream out of a woman's cupped hands, and who was suspended from the House of Commons for unparliamentary behaviour a while back, will return to London as an MP. (US readers may recall that Galloway appeared before a Senate committee that had accused him of oil profiteering in Iraq and wiped the floor with them.)

Labour hasn't come up with a good reason for losing yet. The Respect Party, which Galloway founded, is now represented in Parliament once again. They are unlikely to gather more MPs, as I believe Galloway's larger-than-life persona is responsible for his big win, rather than any organised opposition to the Government. But Gorgeous George will enliven the House of Commons more than even Dennis Skinner, the Beast of Bolsover, has done for the past 42 years.

What's next? Who knows? Parliament is in recess now for Easter, but the crises will still roll on. I shall be in the US from Wednesday until the 19th of April, so I hope nothing important happens until I'm back. I'd hate not to have a front seat for the festivities.

Fifty-one years ago, Herman James, a North Carolina mountain man, was drafted by the Army.

On his first day in basic training, the Army issued him a comb.

That afternoon the Army barber sheared off all his hair.

On his second day, the Army issued Herman a toothbrush.

That afternoon the Army dentist yanked seven of his teeth.

On the third day, the Army issued him a jock strap.

The Army has been looking for Herman for 51 years.

The news that the Most Rev'd and Rt Hon Rowan Douglas Williams, PC, Lord Archbishop of Canterbury would be stepping down from that office to take up the post of Master of Magdalen College, Cambridge was a surprise only in the timing.



( A very long post put behind a cut for the uninterested )

I will post later on my opinion on Archbishop Rowan's legacy to the Church of England and the Anglican Communion.

…is courtesy of Fr. MadPriest's MadDad.

My wife and I went to the Devon County Show and one of the first exhibits we stopped at was the breeding bulls. We went up to the first pen and there was a sign attached that said, THIS BULL MATED 50 TIMES LAST YEAR.

My wife playfully nudged me in the ribs ... Smiled and said, "He mated 50 times last year, that's almost once a week."

We walked to the second pen which had a sign attached that said, THIS BULL MATED 150 TIMES LAST YEAR.

My wife gave me another healthy jab in the ribs and said, "Wow! That's more than twice! a week! You could learn a lot from him."

We walked to the third pen and it had a sign attached that said, in capital letters, THIS BULL MATED 365 TIMES LAST YEAR.

My wife was so excited that her elbow nearly broke my ribs, and said, "That's once a day. You REALLY COULD learn something from this one.'

I looked at her and said, "Go over and ask him if it was with the same cow."

My condition has been upgraded from critical to stable and I should eventually make a full recovery.

The Most Rev'd and Rt Hon Rowan Williams, Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, has announced that he will step down at the end of the year to take up the post of Master of Magdalen College, Cambridge.

The race now begins.

The UK government has started a 3-month consultation on the subject of same-sex civil marriage. It is soliciting people's comments on the subject, and there is a website where you can register comments.

I would urge any of you who are British citizens and who wish to make comments on the subject to go to that website. It will take only a few minutes, but may mean that eventually HWMBO and I will be truly married in the eyes of the state.

Thank you very much!

Most people like a glass of wine occasionally, or even regularly. Many people also like to use their computers to shop online. Well, now you can do both. (Thanks to trawnapanda for the tipoff…)

One of the items (only one of them) that seems to be dividing Anglicans nowadays is the proposed Anglican Covenant. The website of the No Anglican Covenant organisation has all the resources you will need were you to be interested in this subject. If you do a search on "no anglican covenant", however, the first item that comes up is an ad (obviously paid for by someone) directing you to a website which sums up the arguments in favour of it. I wonder who paid for it.

In any case, the history behind the proposal of the covenant begins with the election and consecration of the Rt Rev'd Gene Robinson as Bishop of New Hampshire in 2003, Various segments of the worldwide group of churches taking their heritage from the Church of England were upset that an openly-gay man should have been consecrated a Bishop of the Church of God, and threatened to leave that group, which is called the Anglican Communion.

In addition, the Diocese of New Westminster, in British Columbia, Canada, voted to permit the church blessing of same-sex unions. This just added to the upset among more conservative churches.

In 2008, Bishop Gene Robinson, uniquely among the world's active Anglican bishops, was not invited to the decennial Lambeth Conference, held in Canterbury by the Archbishop of Canterbury. He came to England anyway, and hovered around the edges of the conference, blogging about his experiences. Not inviting Bishop Gene generated more publicity than he would have gotten had he been formally invited to attend. Many of the more conservative provinces and bishops refused to attend anyway.

In 2004, the Archbishop of Canterbury set up a panel to create a document to which all the Anglican Communion churches would be invited to assent. The first three sections of this four-sectioned document were relatively uncontroversial, detailing a peculiarly Anglican version of Christianity, how the various churches are bound together, and defining the Communion. However, the fourth section asserts that Anglicans must take into account the views of fellow Anglicans in other provinces before making innovations or changes in their own method of governance or doctrines. This would have prevented openly lesbian and gay clergy from being ordained or consecrated in the United States, and it would have prevented women from being ordained or consecrated in any of the provinces which now allow this. It is aimed at keeping the Communion together, but a more conservative group of churches has already separated itself from the Communion and refused to sign up. In the Episcopal Church in the United States, the committee that runs the church in between the triennial meetings of its legislative body, General Convention, has recommended that the Covenant not be adopted. The synods (church legislatures) of the church in New Zealand/Aotearoa have voted against it and their national synod is apt to follow suit.

So there is a very mixed picture, although six churches have indeed voted for it so far, they range from the Church of the Southern Cone (of South America) to the Anglican province of Mexico.

Currently, the Covenant is being voted on by the dioceses of the Church of England. There are 44 of these, and at least 23 must vote for it in order for it to continue to the next stage, adoption by General Synod.

The Covenant is in trouble here, however. So far, 17 dioceses have voted against adoption, 10 have voted in favour, and 17 are yet to vote. The Archbishop of Canterbury has put up a YouTube video of himself telling people why they should vote in favour, titling it "Why the Covenant Matters.

I am a member of Southwark Diocesan Synod, and we voted on the Covenant last Saturday. To no one's surprise, we voted against it by majorities among the clergy and laity, while the two bishops split, our Diocesan Bishop in favour and the suffragan Bishop of Kingston abstaining.

Now, why does this matter? What the Archbishop has done is made a rod for his own back by pushing the Covenant. It may be that he could not conceive of a situation where the Church of England would turn against him. Identifying himself with the Covenant has ensured that if 5 more dioceses vote against in the next two months, not only will the Covenant be dead for the next 5 years or so, but his own position will be fatally weakened.

Several newspapers have published rumours that the Archbishop would resign this year in order to return to academe, where his heart truly lies. He will be 62 this spring, and will have several years (perhaps 5) in which to occupy a chair at a university before he'll retire for good. My question is this: if the Covenant is rejected in the dioceses, will that make him loth to resign this year, as it will look like we are pushing him out? Or will he then soldier on for a few more years?

The appointment of the Archbishops of Canterbury revolves around the decennial Lambeth Conferences, normally held in years ending in "8". Each Archbishop needs a few years (up to 5) to prepare for the conference, and then a few years to decompress afterwards and establish his legacy. If the Archbishop were to go for 8 more years, as he is legally entitled to, he will be an exhausted, whipped Archbishop in the run-up to the Lambeth Conference of 2018, leaving his successor a longer-than-usual period before his own Lambeth Conference. A younger Archbishop will have to be chosen, then, in order to ensure that he will last through 2028.

This schedule also ensures that Archbishop of York John Sentamu, who is almost exactly a year older than Archbishop Williams, will not be able to succeed him comfortably. He will be 69 at the date of the next Lambeth Conference, and will be a bit too old to be effective at it.

The other consequence of a possible rejection is that the Church of England's Primate, Archbishop Williams, will not bring his own province into the Covenant and thus he will be outside of it while exercising authority within it. That's absurd.

So we await each successive Saturday; there are 5 dioceses scheduled to vote next week: Norwich, Liverpool, St Albans, Chester, and Ely. The 24th of March will see 6 dioceses voting: Lincoln, Oxford, Blackburn, Exeter, Guildford, and Peterborough. London votes on the 29th, Manchester on the 31st, and Southwell & Nottingham, Chichester, Newcastle, and finally York vote in April. There will be a lot of lobbying during this period. However, if 5 vote no, we will be in uncharted territory, and the Archbishop of Canterbury will be weakened in his office, which is not desirable. It's his own fault, though.

I've never heard of the singer, Carly Rae Jepsen. However, this video has a little twist at the end that you may enjoy.



Thanks to Towleroad for the steer.

…comes from Susan via Fr. MadPriest:

The theme in the vintage ads community this week is Jell-o™ and other gelatine products. I liked Jell-o™ when I lived in the US (it's not available here in the UK, as far as I'm aware, although there are other Jell-o™-like foods).

So, many of the ads reproduced in the community have to do with that quintessentially 1950's food, the gelatine salad.

So perhaps you'd like to make some of this:



1 envelope unflavoured gelatine
1/2 cup cold water
1/4 cup finely-chopped onion
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup mayonnaise
1 1/2 cups finely-shredded cabbage
1 can corned beef, separated into chunks
1 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup pickle relish

Soften gelatine in water in small saucepan. Dissolve over low heat, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and stir in onion, lemon juice, and salt. Gradually stir into mayonnaise. Blend in remaining ingredients. Turn into 1-quart mold and chill 2 hours or until firm. Unmould and serve. Serves 8.

Then again, perhaps not.

I have long advocated that paper and pencil voting be mandated in all elections, everywhere, because of the difficulties with most systems of electronic and Internet voting. As I am not influential, no one listens to me. However, in a recent security test, invited by the election board of Washington, DC, a seemingly secure system became so riddled with security holes that the "foul-mouthed, drunken Futurama robot Bender" was "elected" to the local school board in the test.

Make no mistake, voting over the Internet will come, someday. But until security is taken more seriously by those who are writing the software and constructing the machinery, such votes will be highly suspect, and susceptible to those who would like to control the outcome.

Oh, how the language has changed in 50 years…



I always wondered what made me "go gay"…now I know: it was Jell-o™!

Thanks to the Vintage Ads community for this one.

I can't remember how long ago it was that I posted a non-link or non-joke post here. Suffice it to say it was at least a couple of months ago.

Feet: As you may remember, I had an operation in November to remove the top of my left fifth metatarsal and the bottom of my little toe bone. Because of neuropathy, these two bones had moved so that their tips pointed out the left side of my foot rather than forward, as they should. This created a situation where any ulcer in that spot would not heal and the bones were exposed, causing an infection. This operation was a success, and after 3 weeks I was allowed home. I had a PICC line inserted (my third) and this remains in my arm as of today. I have entertained the District Nurse each day for three months to administer ertapenem through the PICC line.

Meanwhile, my CRP declined from a high level to 3.4 (as of two weeks ago). Anything under 5 is considered normal. Thus, I agitated for discontinuation of the IV antibiotics. I am now on oral antibiotics and will (all things being equal) have the PICC line removed next Monday.

The podiatrist I saw last Monday finally explained to me why I always get blisters on my big toes and the balls of my feet. Apparently, my foot bones have essentially been frozen by arthritis. Thus, instead of giving when I walk, they slide against the insole of my shoe and produce blisters, which, if they are opened can get infected and cause amputations. So the orthotist is going to make me a (third!) pair of orthopedic shoes which will minimise the sliding inside and use the sole to assist my walking. I won't see those until May.

Travel: I haven't done any in three years, and I need to go to Boston to see my brother and sister. Currently I'm scheduled to travel in April, and will be buying the tickets shortly. When I know the dates I'll post again. They will be around the third Tuesday of April.

Masonry: I am coming to the end of my two-year stint as Worshipful Master of Goliath Lodge here in London. We have initiated six men, passed two, and raised three. This is quite a good number for a London lodge, where there are thousands of lodges and a lot of choice. I have personally memorised the initiation, passing, and 1/2 the raising ceremonies, and am about to memorise the Installation ceremony for my successor. It's been a very fruitful two years, and I've learned a lot. By the way, there is no Masonic world government, no Illuminati, no goats involved, and no terrible secrets. Masonry is a group of good men who learn ritual, contribute to charity, and dine together. We don't have the time or the inclination to seek world domination. We are also not a religion, and I have discovered nothing in Freemasonry that is opposed to any religion of which I am aware (Perhaps Jedi Masters might have a bit of a problem with it).

I am continuing my progression through Mark Masonry (I am now Senior Deacon of Tower Hamlets Lodge of MMM), Royal Ark Mariners (likewise), the Operatives, and the Order of the Secret Monitor. I continually get invited to join other side orders, but I have to demur as the amount of money involved, as well as the time and the travel, militate against joining any other orders.

Home: Not much going on here. HWMBO returned to Singapore for nearly three weeks to visit his family. His mum has Parkinson's, and is not in great shape. It's good that he spent time there with her.

The Diocese of Southwark has appointed two new Area Bishops, one of whom is our Archdeacon. I am glad that we haven't lost Michael to another Diocese, but sad that we will have to have a new Archdeacon. The consecration of these two new bishops will be on March 21st.

I continue to read all your blogs daily, and contribute when I can. Will try to post more regularly.

Most of us aren't too thrilled with insects. Mosquitoes bite and carry disease, wasps sting, so do some bees, locusts eat our crops, ants sting too, termites eat our houses.

Most insects are pretty small—so how would you feel about a stick insect that is so huge it was nicknamed the tree lobster?

These insects, on Lord Howe Island off the coast of Australia, were all eaten by rats evacuating a crippled ship. However, all was not lost. An expedition to a relatively small pinnacle of rock near the island discovered 24 tree lobsters, 80 years after they were presumed extinct. The story of how the species was saved is a heartwarming one; compassion for all creatures, whether great or small, or ugly or beautiful, is one of the best virtues one can have.

Do watch the video of a tree lobster hatching from an egg. You'll wonder how all that insect fit into such a small egg.

Order 82482299

Tuesday, 28 February, 2012 12:30

From: "American Airlines" <xxx@yyy>
To: chrishansenhome@xxx
Message contains attachments
1 File (42KB): Ticket.zip

Dear Customer,

FLIGHT NUMBER AA324
ELECTRONIC 9554779
DATE & TIME / MARCH 05, 2012, 11:21 AM
ARRIVING / Yonkers
TOTAL PRICE / 227.21 USD

Please find your ticket attached.
To use your ticket you should print it.

Thank you
AA customer services.

I was unaware that Yonkers has an airport…perhaps things have changed since the late 1970's, when I went to seminary there.

Don't blame me, blame Fr. MadPriest's MadDad:

A girl asks her boyfriend to come over Friday night to meet, and have a dinner with her parents. Since this is such a big event, the girl announces to her boyfriend that after dinner, she would like to go out and make love for the first time.

The boy is ecstatic, but he has never had sex before, so he takes a trip to the pharmacist to get some condoms. He tells the pharmacist it's his first time and the pharmacist helps the boy for about an hour. He tells the boy everything there is to know about condoms and sex.

At the register, the pharmacist asks the boy how many condoms he'd like to buy, a 3-pack, 10-pack, or family pack.

The boy insists on the family pack because he thinks he will be rather busy, it being his first time and all.

That night, the boy shows up at the girl's parents house and meets his girlfriend at the door.

"Oh, I'm so excited for you to meet my parents, come on in!"

The boy goes inside and is taken to the dinner table where the girl's parents are seated. The boy quickly offers to say grace and bows his head. A minute passes, and the boy is still deep in prayer, with his head down.

10 minutes pass, and still no movement from the boy.

Finally, after 20 minutes with his head down, the girlfriend leans over and whispers to the boyfriend, 'I had no idea you were this religious.'

The boy turns, and whispers back, 'I had no idea your father was a pharmacist.'