The Barnum Effect

Why commemorate Frank Zappa on a pumpkin? Well why not? For those of you who need definitive answers may I direct you to the 818-PUMPKIN hotline, and recommend you play "Invocation & Ritual Dance of the Young Pumpkin"

Two more pumpkins carved, that leaves just Frank Zappa outstanding. The Aslan pattern turned out to be quite a challenge to carve, with lots of narrow close cuts it took four hours to transfer to the pumpkin. The horror themed Janus was a much easier task.

I carved these two pumpkins yesterday for Aiden & Millisa, who have a great Halloween & Firework weekend ahead of them at Shell Island . The Owl and the Pussy-cat are off to Shell Island In a beautiful Purple VW Camper Van...

I have been alive 1.199 billion seconds (and counting.) I recently completed my 38th orbit of the sun, and experienced my 469th full moon. In the time since my birth our planet has racked up 35.7 billion kilometers on the odometer just circling the sun, while the sun has travelled 263.8 billion kilometers on an arc around galactic centre. I haven't been out there with a tape measure to confirm these figures you understand - it's cold out there, and there's no kind of atmosphere. I grew up a bit confused as to exactly how many noughts a billion had. The British billion used to be a thousand times bigger than the American billion. In 1974 the UK officially downsized and our billion shrunk to the US value of a mere 1,000,000,000. It's the story of my generation - decimalisation, metrification, globalisation and depreciation. Imperial parents versus metric kids. We learnt metric in school, and got confused at home. I never did get my head around the old pounds, shil

It's amazing what you can find to while away the hours on a dull Saturday afternoon. I've been taking inspiration from Google images to see if I could create some pumpkin patterns. I hadn't realised just how beautiful tattoo designs are until today. I can see now why people feel the urge to get some ink. Shame they have a tendency to fade to blue and stretch as we bulge and sag.

With nine days to go before All Hallow's Eve I've started the preparation for this year's pumpkin carving fest. Each year I buy a couple of patterns from Zombie Pumpkins who have an awesome selection. My dad is an avid fan of the late great Frank Zappa so I'll be creating an FZ pumpkin especially for him. First I search for a suitable photograph from which I can create a likeness that can be transferred to the pumpkin. I have no particular artistic talent, so transforming a photo into a two tone pattern takes me quite a bit of time. When I come to carve this pumpkin I'll remove the skin but leave the flesh behind, varying the depth of my cuts. When lit by candle it will create a portrait effect. Next week I'll scour the shops looking for perfect pumpkins. It is always a tough judgement call - leaving it late enough to get fresh pumpkins, but not so late they've all sold out. Then of course I'll go hunting high and low for my carving kit whic

I guess that intimations of mortality strike us all at various points in our lives. While growing up we see our future as a blank page rife with possibilities. Will we be singers, actors, artists, sportsmen, explorers? Perhaps more simple futures lie ahead of us? Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, candlestick maker? While at university I suddenly noticed that I was now older than the bright young things achieving fame for their sporting or artistic endeavours. The slamming of doors echoed through my head. Not that I’d had plans in any of those directions, but still it was the moment of recognition that my life would be that of a pond-skater rather than a wave-maker. Impinging on the public eye is one way to leave a lasting impression, but in our private lives we have a myriad of effects on those around us. My imagination is rife with scenarios of raising my kids, showing them the world, giving them insights into the science and mechanics behind it, teaching them to see the complexi

Early on in my family history research I came across a bible that belonged to my great great grandmother Mary Ann Smith (nee Storey.) According to the inscription the bible was a present to Mary, on the occasion of her 50th Birthday, sent from her nieces Violet & Maud Storey who were living in London, Ontario. The bible passed to my great grandmother Ada who recorded the dates of birth for her family at the back. There was a pouch in the back of the bible which held a number of photographs. From the comments on the back of the photos I gather that Mary’s brother George Storey (b1844) moved to Canada, was married to Louise, with daughters Violet & Maud. In one photo George & Louise are pictured with Violet’s two children. The inscription on the back of this photo reads: “Father, Mother & Violet’s two children, taken in Hamilton, Sept 1913, the only time we were all in Hamilton at once. Poor Mother looks very tired there, as she was aft

I stumbled across this video posted on the IKEA Hackers  blog. If you can peel your eyes off the hounds you'll notice the common theme of the props. OK Go  produced this to support the  ASPCA , the American equivalent of our RSPCA :   I'd love to be able to give a dog a home, but while I'm doing the crazy Leeds/London commute I have to bide my time. Meanwhile I walk my dad's dog, and dream about the day I'll eventually be able to call the  Wiccaweys Border Collie Rescue Centre .

I enjoyed learning the French language at school. Despite being handicapped by the typical English reticence against putting on an accent I managed to scrape an A at GCSE (back in the days when GCSEs were more exam oriented than module based.) My main frustration with the French language was all the gender nonsense around nouns, and the masculinisation or feminisation of their verbs depending on the object. When I got to university I heard about a synthetic language, Esperanto, broadly based on romance language structure which was entirely regular and straightforward. Esperanto was created in the 1880’s by Dr. Ludovic Lazarus Zamenhof, who hoped the language would foster harmony between people from different countries. I heartily wish Esperanto was widely taught as a second language. If it were more broadly spoken I would have taken the time to learn it. After all, what help is French when you’re in Spain, Russia or China? Failing that – do you think we can persuade the French to d

A campaign to build a prototype computer first envisaged by Babbage in 1837 is gathering steam. It is the ultimate steampunk dream - had this machine been built when Babbage designed it we would have had a computer driven Victoria era. I've pledged to donate £10 to the project - if you'd like to see Babbage's computer constructed please pledge your support. BBC Article: Campaign builds to construct Babbage Analytical Engine

How many times have you said "it's getting dark early now isn't it?" The truth is no matter how many circuits of the sun we've completed we're still surprised every year when the days lengthen or shorten. There can be no clearer clue that we evolved in more equatorial latitudes, that and seasonal adjustment disorder (SAD) of course. It is depressing during winter when it is dark both on the way into work and on the way home. A little daylight might be glimpsed during the day through the office windows, and a tad more caught at lunch whilst popping out to grab a sandwich, but this hardly compensates for the feeling that a whole day has gone by unseen. Despite this I always feel a little thrill when I'm out doing some high street shopping as dusk falls in the winter. In Leeds you see the starlings coming into roost on building ledges, and exploding into flight if they're startled. I have a warm nostalgia for the times, as a child, when I accompanied

I was at the supermarket this afternoon picking up bacon, eggs, sausages, black pudding and mushrooms for a family breakfast I'll be cooking for my dad & brother tomorrow morning. On my way back to the car I passed a couple loading shopping bags into their car boot. I only caught a snatch of their conversation, but I could tell they were midway through a domestic. "Why did you..." "But you said..." It struck me that being single might suck mightily, but it does mean I miss out on an awful lot of tense, angry, and frustrated arguments. As silver linings go it's thin but shiny. It is much easier to get on with a person as a friend than it is to get on with that same person as a partner. A friend's flaws are foibles, easily accepted, loveable even. As a partner those flaws aren't so easy to laugh off. They grate. They irritate. They become intensely unbearable. Couples have to work together, mutually agree on a whole range of choices. Which

I've never been as aware of the changes wrought on the weather, light and landscape by the planet's stately dance around the sun as I am now on my weekly peregrination. This morning mist shrouds the predawn landscape. Grey silhouettes of trees punctuate the gloom. As the sky brightens pastel shades infiltrate the grey. Early autumn is melancholy, cool and shrouded, but later the season will flare into colour as the trees flush toxins into their leaves before cutting the nutrient supply allowing them to fall. The yellows, oranges, reds and browns of dying leaves herald the festivals we celebrate to keep the bleakness of winter at bay: All Hallows Eve, Guy Fawkes Night, Christmas and New Year. Last week I succumbed to a cold. It was inevitable given I spend seven hours a week cooped up in a carriage full of people breathing stale air. As usual I'm left with a cough which is gradually reducing my chest, back and abdominal muscles to a mass of aches. A constant tickle agi