Dipsacus fullonum has been used as a natural comb since antiquity, particularly to clean woollens and raise the nap on them (that is, make them fuzzy, like velvet) — and one can see why. One might even argue whether humans would ever even have invented the comb had they not had the teasel as a model. As seen in Raleigh Park, Oxford, just across the road from my accommodation here.
There are nine Muses, at least according to most classical mythology. Sculpted representations of three of them currently occupy the lobby of the Weston Library, while the building across the road has some cosmetic surgery undertaken. I’d like to think I have engaged with eight of them at some point in my life although I must have done something in my karma to upset Terpsichore as she and I have never really got together.
Lately if I am to be found in either Oxford or Kew then I’ve gone back to the archive. These days I much prefer making enquiries of archives than of actual people. I don’t have to go through the university ethical approval procedure, and believe me, that is reason alone.
Besides, if looking back into history, any written record is an insight into the minds of the people who made it and so much more reliable than asking someone what they remember about events some 50 years ago. This document was part of a big file recounting the saga of Tony Thornton and the short-lived St Helena Labour Party (1974-1976) is a fine example of what can happen to you if you piss off the British Government too much (and don’t imagine it’s some anti-left-wing thing: in fact, Mr. Thornton was more like what we would now call a libertarian): here is not the place, but see the entry for Thornton on John Turner’s web site.
You may or may not have gone to university but if you did, and lived in a hall of residence, unless you did in fact go to Oxford or Cambridge I will bet it did not look like New College, or indeed any one of the other medieval halls that lie around this great seat of learning. Statues, cloisters, that kind of thing. It says a lot that this can be called “New” when it was founded in 1387.
I have returned to the UK, but thanks to the inability of the UK rail network to function at any kind of useful level on a Sunday, I still haven’t made it home. A bicycle might even have been faster — not that I can ride one, a skill I never developed. They seem to use a few in Oxford, though.
A bit early for a working lunch perhaps, but if it’s good enough for Inspector Morse — a frequenter of the Turf Tavern, Oxford, in both the novels and the TV series — it’s good enough for me, and indeed for this gentleman. One thing about Oxford is that you do really feel the whole city centre, at this time of year at least, is engaged in some form of intellectual pursuit. The environment is wholly conducive to it.
Bolstered myself for a heavy day’s work in the library (yes, it was) with a necessary cup of tea on a sunny morning in Oxford. Behind, the Natural History Museum, which has not resisted the current trend for public buildings to be engaged in some major renovation project or other. [NOTE: thanks to follower John, who pointed out I had misidentified the building first time round.]
Back to Oxford, so I can perform an aspect of my job that still does bring pleasure, and sit in a library for at least two days. The walk to my accommodation took place partly along this stream, a branch of the Thames. Perhaps I did this shot, in spirit, on Saturday, but I’m doing it again. Note the heron hanging around inconspicuously in the centre, hoping that the prey won’t notice it.
I am in Oxford to consult an archive of material relevant to St. Helena, collected by the late Trevor Hearl, who, it appears, knew absolutely everything there was to know about the island — and as you see here, was prepared to offer his opinions to civil servants on their ‘Efficiency Reports’.
My perambulation around the southern parts of England continues. Academic that I am you might have expected Oxford — undoubtedly one of the world’s greatest seats of learning — to have featured on here over the last 11 years (nearly). Its rival Cambridge has done so, and I have to say I do find that the more attractive place of the two. Cambridge has rural charm whereas Oxford is really just a middling-sized city with, admittedly, some pretty fine buildings. But on a sunny, pleasant Monday morning, it’ll do.
Being 42 