Monthly Archives: July 2014

A Monarch in the garden?

By far and away the best garden plant for attracting butterflies and bees is the buddleia, named by Linnaeus himself, after the Reverend Adam Buddle (1662–1715), a botanist and rector from Essex, England.
buddleia-flowers_2317869b
This nectar rich plant originally came from Asia, Africa and the Americas, and reached England only as late as 1730. Nowadays, it is ubiquitous, and can easily be seen on almost every piece of derelict land.
Buddleia must surely be the easiest plant in the world to grow cuttings from.
Once your buddleia bush is reasonably large, after a couple of years, you will need to prune it annually, right down to about a foot or so above the ground,  before it starts to grow too tall. This is best done around May 1st, to avoid late frosts. Virtually every bit that you cut off could be planted for new plants, and your neighbours will probably enjoy your free gift. If you prune your bush back vigorously, you will always get a lot more flowers than foliage.
With a little bit of luck, you should get a peacock…
peacock
or a small tortoiseshell
10_Buddleia
With luck, a Red Admiral…
Red-Admiral-Photos
or even, for punctuation fans, a Comma…
P1280277

You might get something really weird. I don’t know what this is, but it ought to be called the Jaws Butterfly…
c
This year, we had our first ever Hummingbird Hawk-moth, hovering like its namesake…

In your wildest dreams, a Monarch butterfly may cross the Atlantic from the USA and replenish its energy in your garden….
Monarch-Butterfly-earth-lovers-8585417-800-600
Good luck!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under My Garden, Wildlife and Nature

Locustella fluviatilis

(An extract from my old birdwatching diary “Crippling Views”)

Have you ever noticed how, in crime films, the detectives always say to the criminal suspects, “Do you remember where you were on July 14th 1989?”
And the criminal suspect will always reply, “Why, yes, I was sitting at home watching Hawaii Five-O” or perhaps, “Why, yes, I was sitting at home, having a cup of tea and some Garibaldi biscuits, because I had just finished the somewhat tricky and tiring erection of an MFI office desk.”
The rest of us though, are usually not quite so lucky. We may not manage to remember even a single thing we did in 1989. We may not remember even who we were, twenty five years ago.
But not so, if you were……a twitcher.
At lunchtime on July 14th 1989, I rang Birdline, the recently introduced method of discovering which rare birds were where, and discovered that a River Warbler had been found at Boughton Fen in western Norfolk. This was only the fourth occasion ever that this bird had occurred in this country, having, presumably, experienced some major snafu with its migratory instincts. Normally, it lives here…
images

And soooo….I left school slightly early because I had a free period, and drove off a hundred miles to see if I could locate a specific small bird on a particular twig on a particular bush on the other side of the country. The bird should look something like this…
River best shot (1024x721)
I remember only one thing from the journey there, namely, passing a road sign which I thought probably directed fans to the house of a rich oilman in “Dynasty” or “Dallas”. It read “Boughton Barton Bendish”, and was just one of that whole series of countrywide road signs which indicate people rather than places. Foremost among these, of course, is the Lincolnshire hamlet of “Norton Disney”
boughton
I reached Boughton Fen pretty rapidly because this was well before the days of speed cameras, and when things were urgent, this could easily be reflected in your driving. The bird was not difficult to see either, because it was almost constantly on view as it sang, perched on the same twig at the top of a single isolated bush.
river 2
I am terrible at birdsong, but it did sound rather like a slowly approaching steam train….
http://www.xeno-canto.org/species/Locustella-fluviatilis?view=3
I can remember very little more of this twitch. The crowd was not exceptionally large…
twitchers-new
or fierce…
SONY DSC

and neither was Lord Nelson there, testing out his six-footer…
very-british-twitchers
One very famous birdwatcher that I do have vague memories of seeing may well have been present at Boughton. He is Lee Evans, who is the self-appointed policeman who vets all the birdwatchers’ lists to make sure that they are not claiming to have seen very rare species when this is not the case. Lee styles himself, therefore, the “judge, jury and executioner” for British and Irish twitchers. He regards himself too as the George Michael of birdwatching.
LGREatBirdFair
I may have forgotten the people somewhat, but the date…never.
So, when that detective comes back a second time, a few months later, and says to me, “Do you remember where you were on July 12th 1990?”, I can always look in my notebook, and without any hesitation whatsoever, I can reply, “Why, yes, I was sitting at the top of a cliff at the western tip of the Isle of Wight, watching an adult Alpine Accentor pick insects from between the rocks.”
alpacc90

The photographs of both the River Warbler and the Alpine Accentor have been taken from the website http://www.aabirdpix.com/megas.htm which provides an absolutely wonderful glimpse of the rare birds seen in Great Britain and Ireland over the last twenty or thirty years.

Leave a comment

Filed under Twitching, Wildlife and Nature

End-of-Year Hootenanny

Recently, I was invited by members of staff to attend the end-of-year buffet. After serving thirty eight years hard labour at the school, I could hardly refuse.  Given my disabilities, though, I thought it best to treat it as a pop concert. There should be a continuous medical presence, preferably with pessimistic posters…
A1
These are the people who really run the place. Today they will judge the acts…
A6
You will need a fabulous sound system and an expert to run it…
A3
And will you need reliable security…
A7
The first two acts were real blasts from the past…

A critical audience prepared their ammunition…

B1Expectations were high, after that wonderful food and the odd snifter, all on offer at prices to suit the teachers’ pocket….
B2
First, a familiar warm-up act…
B4
…introduced the most cultured man I have ever met…
B6
He spoke wise words for those with power over education at a national level…

By now, a slight shuffling feet of the audience betrayed their desire for something a little lighter, perhaps. A country-and-western singer?
F3
Or perhaps a stand-up comedian?
F4
Reactions were varied. Some seemed not to really like that kind of thing…
F4a

Others were even more disapproving…
F4c
Simon’s disappearing microphone trick was completely lost without trace…
F10
But thank goodness, though, not before he remembered to introduce, in the most moving terms, Jim, one of nature’s true gentlemen, and a man who lives up to his faith every single second of the day…
F11
Finally found the microphone though…
H1
Just in time to bring on the star turn, Old Whispering Jim…
H2
The inventor of the paper aeroplane…
H4
“Order!! Order!! Order!! Quieten down please!! You’ve all seen a paper aeroplane before!!
H8
And then the familiar music echoed forth, as we awaited some death defying stunt…
J2
Next it was Paul, with the prototype of his recently invented self-camouflaging tie…
M3
An Everton supporter then suddenly rushed on stage, trying to re-enact the events of the 1966 F.A.Cup Final, attempting vainly to gate-crash the whole event…..
P2
The jury were by now ready for the “Best Dressed” contest. Their empty flying bottles of Budweiser, however, would not be allowed to affect the result…
P22
Would it be the same winner for the previous six years?? A lucky seventh triumph?? And would she want a croquet set as first prize??
P28
But no, controversy then ensued! Professor Major’s hat took all the votes, but should he have been wearing it inside in the first place??

Still, at least Everton Mcgibbon can give us a song…

It hasn’t been easy to turn all these different photographs into a coherent story. I hope nobody has been offended. Let’s finish with a slide show of the others that didn’t quite make the cut. There were quite a few suggestions to explain away the occasional blurring. A room that was surprisingly dark for photography? A lens which had to be open for as long as one eighth of a second? Or just a camera with beer goggles?

This slideshow requires JavaScript.


Happy retirement, everybody. You have more than earned it.

 

 

 

4 Comments

Filed under Nottingham, Personal, The High School

Brahms and Liszt

I adore History, but most of all, I adore the bright, vivid, and O so human figures who populate those dusty days of yesteryear. One such was Mr Sparey, who, with his friend Mr Hewson, burned like blazing comic meteors across the drab High School skies of the middle years of the nineteenth century. This, of course, was when the old Free School was in Stoney Street in the Broadmarsh area of the city, ten or fifteen years before it moved to its present location.
free school
Mr Sparey taught just one class, which was in one of the two downstairs classrooms. He was a “splendid writer, and a fair arithmetician and grammarian, but a rather rough man with a love for the cane.” He was ably assisted by Mr Hewson, “…a teacher of a more patient temper”. Mr Hewson taught not just English but also French, teaching grammar, setting exercises and marking them.
In late 1854, the pair of them caused great scandal in the town when they decided one Saturday evening to seek prolonged and alcoholic refreshment together in a local tavern on Long Row. It may have been near here…
long row 1
Or it may have been further down…
long row 2
Over the course of a spectacular evening, Messrs Sparey and Hewson grew progressively more and more drunk, and eventually managed thoroughly, and publicly, to disgrace themselves.

InebriatesThis was an escapade, though, which they might well have got away with, had it not been for the fact that their appalling behaviour coincided more or less exactly with the arrival of a Government Inspector, who had recently come to the town. He soon found out about this debauched episode, and, as might be imagined, a great deal of embarrassment was caused for the school.
Mr Sparey was told that if the offence was ever repeated, he would be instantly dismissed. Mr Hewson fared even worse. A witness in the subsequent inquiry actually said of him that “…I do not send my boys to this School. I should not like to so long as a character like Hewson’s taught there.” Hewson was then forced to resign.
In 1858, after almost five years of, hopefully, temperance and model behaviour, Mr Sparey, the remaining member of the Long Row Two, himself resigned. No reason was ever given for his departure.
It was not, however, as if Mr Sparey was unused to criticism. Two years earlier, the Headmaster had written to the Governors about “Mr Sparey’s bad English”, and when, later that same year, it was suggested that no member of staff should ever be allowed to keep a public house, for some unrecorded reason, it was Mr Sparey’s name that happened to crop up. The Writing Master countered this foul accusation by saying that that the inn was in actual fact not his, but was held in the name of his wife’s sister.
History is such, of course, that the fate of the Long Row Two remains unknown. But just for a moment they must have lit up a dreary, provincial town in a wonderfully spectacular way.

 

 

 

Leave a comment

Filed under History, Nottingham, The High School

Brazil game: his sister, Isabelle, could have played better…

davidluizReuters_2x

As an ex-manager of some years’ experience, how could I possibly not comment on Brazil 1 Germany 7? I had already told my dear wife, who is becoming a bit of an expert herself after more than thirty years’ careful training, that Brazil were lucky to have beaten Croatia, and that it was a good thing that Referee Nishimura was so well aware of what he was supposed to do.
Last night it wasn’t so much that Germany were supernaturally brilliant, as that Brazil were gutlessly pathetic. I would have said that they all played like a bunch of “big girls’ blouses” were it not that every woman’s team that I have ever seen could have given them valuable lessons in determination and will to win. Brazil seemed to have the idea that they possessed  a divine right to success, and would easily be able to compensate for the absence of the only world class player they have. Set against them was a German team who clearly knew what they were supposed to do… attack purposefully with direct, organised football, carried out with accuracy, and, above all, great speed. Worst player on the pitch was David Luiz Moreira Marinho, who evoked tender comparisons with Steve Foster and Darren Peacock of blessed memory for Luton, Brighton and Newcastle fans.
Brazil are not the first champions to get an unexpected trouncing, though. Way back on December 5th 1908, Sunderland visited the then St James’ Park to face Newcastle United, League Champions in 1904-1905, 1906-1907, and, by a supreme irony, 1908-1909. The final result was Newcastle United 1 (Shearer, penalty) Sunderland 9. Sunderland scored eight goals in 28 minutes, and the last five in eight minutes. Most of the Sunderland fans were unable to get into the packed ground and had to return to Roker Park, where, as they watched the reserve fixture between the two sides, they could only follow the progress of the first team on a score board.
article-0-0DE52A5B00000578-952_634x494Notice a young Adolf Hitler, practising nervously right at the back. Ironically, the Führer seems to be the only person without a cap on.

2 Comments

Filed under Football

Doctor….Doctor….

P1290408 yHello world! After months of inactivity, racked with illness and apathy inducing painkillers, my DD is teaching me how to write my blog, and to bring entertainment and information to my many fans. Did you know, for example, that Durham University recently held its graduation ceremonies, and my DD became Dr DD ? She was dressed in a tasteful costume that made her look like a fourteenth century Holland supporter. I was so pleased that, at last, the financial expenditure was possibly drawing to its end, that early the following morning, I climbed the nearest hill, threw my last £6.17 to the winds, and waved my crutches at the rising sun.

P1000503

Leave a comment

Filed under Personal