Friday, December 19, 2014

You don't know Jack (#5)

Like all toddlers, Jackson provides the occasional nuggets of observation or wisdom or humor. These are generally unprompted, often silly or nonsensical, and usually come out of the blue with no context. Here are some recent ones:


While Danny MacAskill conquers the Cuillin Mountains on the Isle of Skye, Jackson conquers this tree stump.

•   "Don't move! I like hitting you with hedgehogs."



•   "Once upon a time, not so very many years ago, there was a little mommy who lived in a forest. She said, 'Pah! I don't see anything but boring trees.' The end."



•   "Queen Elizabeth is our queen. Queen Elizabeth is old. She knows things."



•   "If I keep my mouth open, I can catch a bug. Yum!"



Trying out new noses at the Kelvingrove Museum in Glasgow.


•   Upon receiving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich: "I have never been happier in my WHOLE LIFE."    ***



•   "I want to have a cake with Mommy. One, I don't want it to be yucky! And two, I don't want it to be too warm!"



•   "Old people can't do some things. Old people can't run up hills. Nana and Grampa Bill are old. Nana and Grampa Bill can't run up hills!"



•    "This is the biggest blueberry I have ever seen in the whole universe!"



•   "Daddy, when I am a grown up, can I wear your underwear?"



At home after watching The Cat in the Hat production in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival.



*** I make a mean PB&J, but I'm not sure it's that good.


Friday, December 12, 2014

Our first trip back to America

It's been 18 months since we arrived in Scotland, and we're headed back home for the first time.

I still call the U.S. of A. "home." Not that I don't feel at home in Scotland. We just haven't been here long enough for it to feel officially "home" yet.

LEGO safari plane and pilot

In total we'll be back in the States for 23 full days and two part/half days. It's the first trip we'll have taken in a loooooonnnggg time that I'm not busily preparing with guide books and Internet research. I'm not quite sure what to do with myself.

We're not traveling lightly. At all. We've got clothes for the relative warmth of the south, and clothes for snow and skiing in Colorado. Various bags are stuffed with toddler activities and books and toys to keep the wee one quiet occupied. And even after ordering most of our Christmas gifts via Amazon to cut down on our baggage, we have numerous presents stashed in our gigantic bags for friends and family. Oh, and the kid's car seat. Damn kid.

United States of America passport book
My new U.S.A. passport book.
What's more, we'll probably return with more baggage than we're bringing. My suitcase is stuffed inside another suitcase — an REI Wheely Beast duffel bag — which we'll likely fill with the kid's Christmas loot presents. We've even planned ahead enough that we have bought some items (e.g., toy trains and accessories) that are much cheaper in the States, which we're lugging back to the U.K. for the kid's birthday next June. It's a good thing our international flights allow us two checked bags each, plus carry-on bags.

I'm a little worried we'll exceed the limits. Eeek.

In the States, our dance card is filling up quickly. We've got bunches of people to see friends, colleagues, family, even a favorite coffee shop barista. Trivia night at the pub. Continuing legal education (sigh). Dinners out. Professional consultations. Food trucks to visit. Parties. Not one but two Christmases to celebrate with family(ies). Skiing and sledding and Jackson's first real chance to play in the snow.

Blogging in these parts is going to continue during our trip, but likely in a reduced manner. Still, I know how much you depend on these posts. Wait for them anxiously. Feel bereft without them.

{Ed.'s note: Well, maybe your mother. The rest of us will enjoy a respite.}

In the new year, I'll be sprucing up the blog. I aim to lay some of the groundwork during these next few weeks, but it'll be behind the scenes. Nothing dramatic, just a few touches.

For now, it's time to head across the pond. First stop, the city.

New York City.

(Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.)

Monday, December 8, 2014

Monday Exposure: Railway time

Railways are said to "annihilate both time and space"; this they can only do safely and satisfactorily by keeping time.
          — William Baddeley, The Mechanics' Magazine, Vol. 33, Nov. 27, 1840


Well into the 1800s, the time of day often differed in neighboring villages and towns. Partly, it was because time was a matter of guesswork. Sundials were in common use. At best, ordinary people might rely on a church bell or a town clock for guidance. Appointments and meeting times were vague and flexible. Schedules were advisory, not prescriptive. Most people had no watch or clock in their home until the 20th century. In the 19th century, clocks were rare; accurate clocks rarer still.

Moreover, there was no standard time across a region, country, or continent. Heading east to west across Britain, a traveler gained fifteen minutes or more over the course of 24 hours, and likewise lost fifteenish minutes if traveling east. Norwich time was several minutes ahead of London time. Oxford was officially 5 minutes and 2 seconds behind London's time; Leeds was 6 minutes and 20 seconds behind; Exeter was 14 minutes behind.

This led to mayhem and disaster for the emerging rail industry.

1850 clock used on the Great Western Railway for more than 100 years
In the 1840s, clocks — and time became standard across British train stations. This clock, from the Great Western Railway, was built around 1850 and used for more than 100 years.
Rail transport was developing at a lightning speed. Steam locomotives first appeared in 1811. The first steam trains for passengers came in 1825. By 1830, the first inter-city route opened. Mail was first sent by rail in 1838. In 1839, the first timetable was published. By the 1850s, Britain had more than 7,000 miles of track.

As more and more trains crisscrossed the country — carrying goods and, increasingly, passengers — the need for standardization became readily apparent. Neither stationmasters, nor train conductors, nor passengers were certain when a train would depart its station. Trains frequently delayed departure to allow for stragglers. Travelers often missed connections because of the vagaries of timekeeping in different towns.

Even worse, the running of trains across the network of tracks had become a nightmare of accidents and near-misses. The railway system was an integrated whole, even if it was operated by numerous privately-owned railway companies. Timetables had just been invented, but given the non-uniformity of time across the land they were more ideal targets than actual planning tools. Even if the train personnel could figure out the complexities of local times, no one could rely on trains traveling at regular and reliable intervals. Trains which should have clear track in front of them might find themselves delayed by trains which had dithered before leaving a station or, perilously, find trains heading toward them from the opposite direction.

It was a mess. A dangerous mess. And even more significantly for these new titans of industry, a costly mess.

Railway station clock at the National Railway Museum in YorkThe railway bosses demanded that time be standardized. At first, they met with resistance from many municipalities, which had no desire to reset their clocks at the fiat of nouveau riche railway owners. So the rail bosses took matters into their own hands. By 1841, the Great Western Railway ordered that all of its stations would use London time, regardless of the local time around the stations. Passengers who wished to ride the trains found themselves forced to use the railway's timekeeping instead of the local timekeeping.

Other railways followed suit. In 1845, the Liverpool and Manchester Railway petitioned Parliament to require a single uniform time for the entire rail network. The petition failed.

But the railway bosses pushed on. In 1847, the major railway operators agreed they should all adopt London time — generally called Greenwich time due to the location of the Royal Observatory — as soon as the Post Office supported the shift. Carrying of the mail was a major source of income, of course, and the Post Office was a valuable client. But more significantly, although the Post Office had no official role in setting the standardization of time for the railways, it gave the railway operators a veneer of government authority. When the Post Office granted its consent later in 1847, most British railways adopted London time on 1 December 1847.

Still, some municipalities held out. Instead of changing the time on their clocks, they decided . . . to add another minute hand. Essentially, they stuck their tongues out and said ppfffttt! One minute hand showed the local time while the other, sometimes smaller, minute hand showed the new railway standard time. Watches on sale showed local and London time. Eventually, the silliness of their behavior outweighed their protest, and the local time went away. Bristol held out until 1852. By 1855, approximately 98% of the public clocks in the U.K. were on London time, though some cities, like Bath, dragged on until 1860.

Finally, in 1880, Parliament passed its Definition of Time Act to confirm the fait accompli on the ground, a standard time across the United Kingdom.