Ten out of ten?

I've been reminded, this week, of the 'Ten-Ten' challenge. This was to reduce one's personal carbon footprint by 10% during a twelve month period starting at a date of one's own choosing some time during 2010 from the previous 12 months.

I really don't think much to this kind of attempt to jolly people into turning off the lights more: hasn't the rise after rise in electricity prices been incentive enough? And whenever we pick the arbitrary start date, why on earth didn't we start reducing our footprint before that date anyway? For myself, the task was easy: having flown around 30,000 miles between February and mid April 2010, all I had to do was to choose to start on May 1st and I was bound to have more than exceeded the 10% target reduction, because I was going to fly very much less during the year from May 2010 to May of this year. I've flown from Newcastle to Newquay and back, in a greenish little aeroplane - well, back was a tiny little thing as far as Bristol where I broke the journey, and then dear old EasyJet Airbus back, but with payment conscientiously made for the carbon offsetting. I doubt me if I'll be flying anywhere again before May, though the idea of a week in Tenerife is still a desirable one.

We saw so much, with the previous government, how targets don't improve what you do but distort it so as to achieve some almost random measure of 'performance'. Tony Blair was amazed to find that his targets for people seeing doctors resulted in worse appointment systems, not better ones, but it was inevitable given the way the target was set up. If you want everyone to be seen within two days of making an appointment, clearly you can't let people make appointments for a week ahead, however much they might want to. So in setting green targets, there's little point in asking people to make some particular reduction in their carbon output: they'll have done all the reasonable things already, and this will only antagonise them because there are lengths to which most folk simply won't go that would be required to do any more, at least of any significance.

And in fact I'm not convinced that personal micromanagement is of much use anyway. When Apartheid ruled in South Africa, I boycotted South African goods, but I had no illusions that this would in any way affect the South African economy: it affected me, and that was why I did it. I happened to read, a couple of months ago, that the airline Emirates has ordered no fewer than 90 Airbus 380 aircraft, the double decker super-jumbo that seats up to 700 passengers, and most of these are yet to be delivered. Bearing in mind that these aircraft will be flying more hours than not, in order to earn their keep, the amount of carbon emissions involved dwarfs any savings any individual might make: and that's just one airline. So what is needed is not individuals making tiny changes but groups and mass movements calling for a change in corporate and governmental attitudes. I've said before that the kids may feel they're doing their bit by turning the tap off when cleaning their teeth, but they'd do better to wave posters saying 'Tax flying now' or even 'limit flying now'. A global personal limit of so many miles per person per year, transferable at a set price, would do a lot more to limit air traffic and cut down the huge growth in emissions in this area which goes against the promised Governmental trend of reducing overall the national emissions. After all, less and less do business personnel have to physically travel nowadays: the meeting can be held by virtual conference in several parts of the globe simultaneously, and it works perfectly well - I've done it. I've sat in Newcastle and joined in a meeting in Birmingham, Manchester and Bristol - and it could just as well have been Birmingham, Alabama as Birmingham, England. So why fly across the atlantic when you can internet! It's this kind of attitude we need to cultivate.

When I went to Australia, I squandered some of my inheritance and went business class. Oh, believe me, it makes a huge, huge difference. It makes the journey a delight rather than a trial, and it really does deliver the businessman ready to do business. I arrived in Adelaide at 7.30 am, normally a disastrous time for me, after about 30 hours continuous travelling with two changes of plane, and felt rested, refreshed, well fed and watered and ready to go. I'd slept a good deal, eaten and drunk as I pleased, been entertained and pampered and really enjoyed the whole thing. I can now understand why someone I'd heard of, whose father was a BA employee and so who got a ration of free air travel, went business class to Sydney for the weekend: the fun was in the journey, never mind breathing the fresh air of Sydney Harbour. If nations agreed to abolish business class, I'd predict that flying would hugely decrease. You'd probably have to abolish First as well, except for Royalty perhaps, and there would be howls of protest: but you'd have a diminishing rather than a growing air transport industry.

Maybe these suggestions are nonsense, maybe they wouldn't work for a variety of reasons, maybe the vested interests are too deeply entrenched for anything like that to happen. Bristolians who assemble the airbus wings certainly wouldn't be happy at the prospect of losing their jobs. But my point is that global warming is on a global scale, and needs global scale measures to tackle it: little domestic improvements, even if done by millions, will hardly scratch the surface.

So until then, pardon me if I fly to Cornwall rather than suffer Arriva Cross Country, with the first four hours of the run home having not so much as a cup of tea available on board. Alongside the ninety super jumbos of Emirates, it really won't make too much difference.

Carry on blogging!

One of my own difficulties in keeping up a blog is that once anything is finished, I find it hard to 'finalise' it: hence the ends of bits of blog tend not to get written. So I never wrote up the end of my Grand Tour, which included a very pleasant drive through wonderful Autumn colours, a visit to the ballet in Plymouth, a visit to another historic Quaker meeting house in Long Sutton, Somerset, a trip round Stonehenge and a delightful day in Reading with two old friends.

However, all that is in the past and I'm in Cornwall again, having flown down this time (in, I have to say, one of the greenest of aircraft, if any aircraft can be considered green!). We were only just able to land because of fog, which had caused us to be diverted from Plymouth, the scheduled first port of call, to Newquay where I was going anyway! But flying was both a good deal cheaper and much quicker than travelling by train, and I do find nowadays that long train journeys in standard class are a real trial: I end up feeling cramped and arthritic and quite out of sorts, which is why I travel First whenever I can, and when it's not too much extra.

Cornwall so far has been a bit damp and windy, but it's nowhere near as cold as back home in Newcastle. It was up to a balmy ten degrees earlier today! I have been wondering, in the very cold spell the whole country has had in general and the North East worse than most, at least in England, what happened to global warming, and please could we have a bit of it here just now? I can understand, having had snow in the garden for over a month continuously, why people wonder if it's really happening at all. Don't get me wrong, I'm a believer, but sometimes as I shiver I do just long for the summer days, and when I see the pictures of the Test Matches I ache to be back in Australia!

So a definitely not-all-that-Green visit this time: but looking forward to the New Year's Eve celebration with my good friends, knowing there will be a wonderful meal tomorrow and the setting off of rockets and skylanterns to celebrate the start of 2011. May it fulfil all its promises! And maybe I'll keep this blog up more regularly too.

The Grand Tour, days 7 and 8

Down in Cornwall at last, this is the far point of the tour. I'm with my friend Angie and her partner: and I'm here a day earlier than originally planned because of changes to the schedule due to my inadequate communications! So on Saturday I was able to have a quiet day, helping with the shopping and then going for a very enjoyable walk in rhe local woods in the sunshine

On Sunday I had the delight of going to Come-to-Good Meeting. This is in a very special Meeting House, Grade I listed and dating from 1710. I'd wanted to go for ages, but this was the first time I'd been in Cornwall with the car, which was necessary. My trusty SatNav Daisy found the way without difficulty, and I arrived in very good time. The benches were a little rigorous, but there were also chairs and cushions to put on them, and that was a good compromise. It was a lovely meeting, all about simplicity, and I enjoyed chatting with Friends (two of whom I knew) afterwards.

After Sunday Lunch with relatives of my hosts, I was able to have a pleasant and lazy afternoon nap before going to take photographs of a church parade that happened to be that day. We ended the day with a scratch supper and a bout of television watching: definitely a day of resting from our labours!

So on the whole an uneventful two days: but the next two were planned to be much more active. Watch this space!

The Grand Tour, days 5 and 6

One reason for stopping overnight in Ross on Wye was its proximity to Slimbridge. I've been a member of the Wildfowl and Wetlands trust for some years now, mainly to go round the Washington wildfowl park, and had not visited any of their other places. So I made a relatively early start, and headed for the Slimbridge wetlands area.
It's quite a big place, with pond, riverside and estuary areas, and I walked round most of it. Birds were in abundance, including three different kinds of flamingo! Nothing much of the rarer birds, though: a man clearly much more expert than me told me there were three Ruffs on the far side of the pond I could see, but my little binoculars couldn't pick them out. However, even on a dull morning it was an enjoyable experience, and I spent a couple of hours there before heading southwards to my next port of call, Glastonbury.
I arrived there mid-afternoon, and spent the best part of two more hours walking round the square of the town and looking at shops (so much New Age, so much tourist tat). Arriving at the far corner, I passed the Chalice Well - a lovely garden, as I know from a previous visit - but decided instead to take the exercise of climbing the Tor. It took me twenty minutes of hard climb, but such good exercise: just a pity the still misty day meant that the view was not all it might have been. And here's the photographic evidence that I made it!
My hotel was about three miles out, a charming place once the summer home of the Abbot of Glastonbury. The room was more luxurious than the one in Ross, but had less putting place and was in fact somewhat smaller, though with a bigger bathroom. I unpacked, snoozed and then drove back into Glastonbury for an Indian meal - as ever in Indian restaurants, there was enough for two, but I was good and didn't over-eat.
It had been a busy day, and I slept well.
Next morning the weather was still dull, and after breakfast I decided that rather than going back to visit the Chalice Well garden, I'd get on and get down to Cornwall. I made good time and arrived at Mike and Sue's in time for a bite of lunch. We always fall almost into the conversation we had last time we met, it's a delightfully easy relationship. After a bit I went for a snooze: Mike and Sue had their Home Group at someone else's house in the early evening, so I was able to do very little and watch the news before enjoying Sue's tasty echilladas and watching Dad's Army (recorded) and New Tricks (live). A pleasant end to the day!

The Grand Tour, days 3 and 4

On Tuesday, Christine (my hostess) was back at work, so I had the day to myself. I'd originally thought of taking the train into Liverpool: being very much a city woman, I could see myself enjoying just wandering around, looking at one or two of the many museums and art galleries, finding a nice bite to eat and coming home early enough for a relaxing nap. However, the day dawned rather dull, and I was feeling a little tired after the exertions of yesterday: so instead I had a very quiet and lazy morning, doing not very much, and then taking the local bus into Chester. Christine had mentioned a tour at the Grosvenor Museum starting at 2, and I thought it might be interesting to go on this. So I found a place for a light(ish) lunch - jacket potato and something or other - and then went up to the museum, arriving in good time. I checked at the desk that there was indeed a tour at 2, and the man said yes: and sure enough, a tour guide appeared - and started checking names on a list! So I asked her if I could come as well, and she said that it was fully booked. Neither Christine nor the man at the desk had said anything about booking. The guide said that not everyone had turned up, so there might still be a space, so I waited. In the end, she took all 25 who had booked and five more 'hopefuls' like me who hadn't. Now I'd thought it was a tour of the museum: but in fact it was a walk around the town, looking at evidence of viking occupation. In fact there is very little of this, and most of it not now visible: excavations have found post-holes and odd bits of wattle and daub, but not much more. But there have been three finds of silver hordes, mostly coins: and apparently both DNA and name evidence makes it pretty clear that vikings did settle in this part of the world, around 700 - 950 or so. The walk ended with bits I'd see with Christine the previous day, so I left it then and went back home after a fruitless search for cheap headphones, having left mine at home by mistake.
This was my last evening in Chester, and Christine - happy birthday, it was indeed hers that day - took me to her film club to see a fascinating Belgian film about a Belgian girl going to work for a big Japanese corporation. She finds a major clash of culture, and the Japanese staff do nothing to help her adjust to their ways. She sticks it out to the end of her one year contract, and then goes home and becomes a successful writer. 'Fear and Trembling' (the way one is supposed to approach the Emperor) was well worth seeing, though there were problems with what it was trying to say and how far it was a Belgian view of Japanese corporate life rather than a real one. Worth a try should you see it on offer, though.

Next day I took Christine to work in Wrexham on my way south. I'd intended to call in at the Nightingales factory shop in Craven Arms, but sadly this is no more: this lovely clothing company is now part of the J D Williams group, and is in my view likely to decline as a result. So I pressed on to Ludlow, a place I'd visited a few years ago and enjoyed, and this time I had time to go round the castle. Edward V and his brother Richard both lived here as young boys: a lovely place to live, I should think, with comfortable quarters (lots of fireplaces in evidence!) and beautiful countryside to explore.
I had lunch in the same wholefood cafe as before, the Olive Branch (highly recommended if you're in Ludlow), and then drove on, guided by Daisy (my satnav, called Daisy because she goes with my little yellow car which is called Buttercup) to Ross on Wye, my overnight stop. I went into the town centre first and had a brief walk round, enjoying a riverside walk and a look at a few possible eating places. Then I (or rather Daisy) found my B & B, and very comfortable it was too, and in walking distance of town. I had a snooze, then followed the landlady's recommendation and ate at the Kings Arms. Christine is a vegetarian, and I'm not, so I settled for a locally produced Cotswold Steak with a superb blue cheese sauce, beautifully cooked vegetables - four of them - and new potatoes rather than chips. All in all an excellent feast, and a good way to end day four of the tour.

The Grand Tour - first two days

At last! my long planned tour of various friends in various parts of the UK has finally got under way. Not without incident: alas, the Open Golf in Wales meant that the dates I'd hoped to make a visit there coincided with a postponed start of the University term, so my lovely friend Tracey couldn't have me to stay on those dates: and due to my own stupidity in not confirming a rather informal suggestion that I visit in Bristol, my relative there found that this was the busiest week of her year and it really wasn't a good time for me to go! However, such things can also be opportunities, and so I'm going to be able to have some time in Ross on Wye, a place I've not been to since I was about 15, and Glastonbury where I've not been for 15 years (this is the town, not the festival). So I'm looking forward to some quiet, peaceful times in both those places.
So here I am, at the first port of call in Chester. I arrived on Sunday evening, and before even unpacking the car much I started work in the kitchen. Christine, my hostess, had herself only just got home from a working weekend, so I'd said I would bring the wherewithal to make stuffed peppers for supper (she's a vegetarian), and another mutual friend joined us. I always enjoy cooking for people and this was no exception: and we had a very pleasant meal with good conversation and a totally quaffable bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

Next day dawned a superb, cloudless sight, and it seemed a shame to follow Plan A and do some computer education and book Christine a coach journey on line. So we went into Chester, on foot as we had, it turned out, missed the local bus due to the timetable having been altered, and looked at the ruins of St. John's church which was founded in Saxon times. It's a fascinating building: it was once the Cathedral in Chester, and King Edgar, having been actually crowned at Bath Abbey, came there for his Lords to pay homage to him. Then we went on past what you can see of the amphitheatre, which would be the largest Roman amphitheatre in Britain if it were not half under buildings, one of which is Grade II listed despite having little architectural merit, in my eyes at least. We had time to walk part of the walls before going home to lunch.

After lunch we went to pick up Christine's friend Irene and then drove up to Studley Hall, once home of the Holt family (the Holt shipping line was in existence until some time after the war). Here there was a fascinating collection of paintings, the personal collection of George Holt, and very impressive: it included Turners, Burne Jones, Rosetti and other pre-Raphaelite artists as well as earlier ones such as Reynolds and Gainsborough. What a feast! We had a thoroughly enjoyable time looking at many rooms full of pictures before having tea outside and then taking a walk in the park before going home.

Not just the Amazon Rainforests

Interesting to learn, in the National Museum of Aotearoa New Zealand, Te Papa, that before the Maori people came here about a thousand years ago, a very high proportion of the lowlands of this country was forest. Maori needs and practices cut this down by a fair amount: but when the white settlers started moving in, around 1840, even more forest was cut down to make farmland, and much of that was to supply the UK with cheap meat and dairy products. The New Zealand Lamb industry, for so long a mainstay of the British food supply, had meant the clearing of forests long before the concerns about MacDonalds chopping down stuff in Brazil for beef ranching. So the connection between meat-eating and the environment goes back a long way. Now, the lowlands here are 51% grassland, well above the world average of 37%, and most of that used to be for sheep, though in recent years market forces have made many farmers switch to cattle.

Having said that, it's not going to change in a hurry, and I don't see any sign that New Zealand's contribution to climate change might be to replant forests. In a country where most of the electricity seems to be from renewable sources (there's a lot of scope for hydro here) I don't think the rest of us can complain that they aren't doing their bit already. But as the money in sheep farming declines, it might be an option, as indeed it might in many other places. Should replanting forests be on more nation's agendas?

Greening the neighbours

Brisbane: a city, apparently, in Transition. I'd not come across the Transition Towns movement until I went to the Sustainable Living festival in Melbourne. But here in Brisbane it's alive and well and about to flourish in the suburb of Tarragindi, where my hostess Valerie lives.

Valerie had gathered her immediate neighbours together to hear talks from three people: one on composting, one on being green generally and one on the Neighbourhood Watch; this over a shared tea party. About a dozen came, and the talks gave us a lot of food for thought. I learned a lot about composting, and realised I can deal with all my food waste in a better way with a small device called a Bohasi Bin, which will enrich my little patch of garden and reduce my landfill waste even further. I could also think about the rather defunct Neighbourhood Watch scheme which we used to have at home. And the whole idea of Transition Towns is something that the Quaker Meeting might consider as well. So there's a lot there to take home, starting with the idea of having your neighbours round, getting to know them and encouraging us all to be green together.

I found it interesting that in Australia the priorities are different. At home, with the huge Kielder reservoir, water is literally the least of our problems, whereas here it's the biggest one. This in spite of much of Queensland being flooded at the moment! They have real problems of water management, and are seeking ways for the surplus to be used more effectively. But they don't have problems of heat waste (they use air conditioning rather than central heating): they do have problems of transport, and it's just assumed that everyone has a car. Different strokes for different folks! But it's good that there is much environmental awareness here, more, I think, than in the UK. We've still a big task ahead to convince folk of the need to care for the planet.

Green or brown Australia!

It was obvious, even coming in to land at Adelaide, that quite a lot of South Australia is brown rather than green at the moment.  They’ve had a hot, hot summer:  and part of the problem is that the main river, the Murray, is over-used further upstream for irrigation and so is nearly drying up by the time it gets to the sea.

Water shortage, my host Christine thinks, is the next big crisis here.  If you ever doubted the reality of climate change, compare pictures of South Australia twenty years ago with how it is now.  It’s amazing that they manage to grow so many grapes and make so much wine!  But my host does a lot of water conservation, including having buckets in the shower – you fill these with the cold water whilst the warm is coming through (assuming that you don’t want to step straight into a cold shower!), and then it goes on the garden.  They have a water tank to keep any rainwater, and sometimes they use it as the main water supply, with just a small filter tap for drinking water.  And there may be more things I’ve not discovered yet.

I’ve certainly become more aware of the need to save water, in the few days I’ve been here.  Back at home, where we have the huge reservoir at Kielder, there seems little point in taking fastidious measures to save tiny bits of something we have in plenty, even in the dry times of the present decade.  But out here…and worldwide?  I suspect that fresh water will be a big issue as climate change bites more and more. 

Yet I don’t see any solar desalination here, or indeed hear of it anywhere much.  These systems are basically a sheet of glass set at an angle to catch the sun, with a shallow lake of sea water behind and a run-off channel for condensed water next to the base of the glass.  The sun heats and evaporates the sea water, and it condenses on the glass and trickles down into the channel.  Energy required once built:  zero!  Just keep filling the sea water pans and collecting the fresh.  This, on a large scale, could be a major help – couldn’t it?

Meanwhile, there are advantages to being in an area where wine is plentiful even if water isn’t!

Belinda on ice!

The problem with having cycling as your main method of taking exercise is that it's not easy in winter. So when, a fortnight ago, Monday dawned bright and sunny, and the roads were clear of snow, I saw it as an opportunity both to be green and go shopping on Belinda, my trusty bicycle, and to take some much needed exercise.

I set out for Sainsbury's, starting off on the roads but very soon turning off onto a well tried bridle path, which runs down beside the Newcastle United training ground. The path is almost due south, and as I turned on to it the sun was shining directly in front of me: so it was quite difficult to see the actual surface of the path. I could just about make out the potholes, of which there were several, all full of water. Whoops! I slid a little, a couple of times, and so rode slowly and carefully as it seemed the path was very muddy. Then, inevitably, the back wheel slid right away and I came crashing to the ground: not a good thing for an overweight 67 year old. I came down heavily on my right hip, and it was only when I was lying on the ground that I realised the path was covered in ice. The snow may have gone from the roads, but sheltered paths with no traffic were a different matter.

I picked myself up, swearing in a lady-like manner, and turned round, walking Belinda as far as the road and then cycling gingerly back home. A quick inspection showed no obvious damage: I sat down and had a cup of tea and a piece of toast and marmalade (carbohydrate is good for shock), and felt much improved. That evening I went to a wonderful concert at The Sage, our local international standard concert hall: it was a recital given by Murray Perahia, one time winner of the Leeds piano competition and now a world famous performer. I had no problems sitting for two hours, and no particular pains: it was only the next day I saw I had a small bruise on my right hip. Two days later it had become a very large bruise: it's now fading, two weeks later.

But it was on the Friday, when I had to go to London for a meeting all day on Saturday, that my left knee began to give trouble. On Friday night it was difficult to sleep (and being in a strange bed in a hotel didn't help!), and by Sunday I was having some difficulty walking. I took it to the doctor, who said it often took a couple of weeks for the full effects to be apparent, but that by the time I go away (see my Antipodean Adventure blog) it should be improving, and the warmth of Australia should help.

I've always accepted that being Green had a cost: but this was an avoidable one, and not what I wanted just before a long trip away. Ah, well....maybe I also needed to slow down a bit and do only the essentials in preparation. Either way, it will be April or May before I take Belinda out again!

I'm dreaming of a Green Christmas...

It's been a good day. I've done the traditional turkey, not being ready to be vegetarian, but with loads of vegetables: and one of my guests brought a bottle of Champagne with her, which was great. It's been the sort of Christmas I enjoy, relaxed and doing little other than cook the lunch (which I really enjoy doing).

We've used a good bit of energy, of course: I've had the heating on nearly all day, which I don't usually do even in the present cold snap. I find the house is well enough insulated that if I warm it up in the morning, it's warm enough until dusk when the outside temperature does start dropping fast and I begin to feel distinctly chilly. The neighbours on one side have been away, which doesn't help: when both neighbours are home I benefit from having little or no heat loss through the long party walls. The house was built before the days of cavity walls os I can't have cavity wall insulation: but the roof is well insulated and everywhere is double glazed.

I'm convinced that reduction in energy use has to be a major part of becoming a greener nation, a greener world. Less energy use means we won't need to decide what sort of power stations to build: the answer could be 'none', or relatively few.

Could I have been greener? Well, frankly, after finishing off the champagne, I couldn't really say. So I'll just wish all my readers a very Happy Christmas.

Green and white

No, I've not become a Celtic fan: it’s been snowing! There’s been a fair covering, lying on the roads, though as my street is a major bus route it never stays too long. But my lovely little Buttercup is sitting firmly in the carport – well, car space, as there’s no roof at present – and if I need to go anywhere I’m using public transport.

And that’s a Greenish reflection: that the way to avoid driving in the snow is to go, as far as possible, on the bus. Yes, it’s slower and involves standing waiting in the cold: but it’s safer as well as less polluting. I went to Sainsbury’s today, waiting all of two minutes for the bus there and having to run for the one home! Mind you, I’m well aware how very fortunate I am to live where I have a bus to Sainsbury’s in one direction and Morrison’s in the other.

Meanwhile, news is coming in from Copenhagen, and it’s not good. I’m not at all convinced that it’s going to end in anything but failure, even if they do agree to some sort of statement. What is undoubtedly needed is measures that will hurt everyone to an extent, and the rich and powerful to a bigger extent, and nobody seems willing to agree to such measures. We do indeed seem to be in the Age of Stupid. What price the Green party getting a massive increase in their vote? It would be good to have some Green MPs, and if Gordon & Co. let us down seriously, it could happen.

A thought: should I have Christmas lights on, to give a bit of festive cheer, most of the time? I put them on at dusk, and turn them off when I go to bed at around midnight, and they are low power LED lights, but it’s still electricity, more than the TV takes on standby and I get told off if I leave that on. But I like my lights, I like to see them as I walk home down the street, making the place look a bit less gloomy than the wintry weather.

The house is getting full of food. I keep seeing these scrummy looking things, like a Stollen slice and some mini rum truffles, and three jars of fruit in something alcoholic (cherries in Kirsch, peaches in brandy, pears in..er.. red wine?, cos they were three for two), and I can’t resist them. So we move towards the usual situation on Christmas eve, when the house is full of food and there’s nothing to eat! There will be, though: not sure what I have down for next Thursday but I’m sure it’s something tasty. Could well be fish of some sort, as I won’t be having fish on the Friday – oh, yes I will, smoked salmon and cucumber on thin wholemeal bread and butter, for tea, along with leftovers, a bit of salad maybe, some humous perhaps…. Not to mention the Christmas cake which I’ve not iced yet. Might do that this evening. I have to make a trifle tomorrow for the Bring and Share lunch at Meeting, but I’ve all the ingredients for that. Really I should fast all day on Monday, in preparation, but I don’t suppose I will.

And meanwhile, they played the wonderful Harold Darke setting of ‘In the Bleak Midwinter’ on Classic FM just after I got into bed last night. And snow was indeed falling, snow on snow: and it was a magical moment. May all our Christmases be green and white!

One of those days

For most people, 'one of those days' means one where everything goes wrong. But no, for me today was quite the opposite: it was a day when every moment seemed precious, when I was so moved to joy that I started singing, and when at the end of the day I took a major step to fulfilling a lifetime's ambition.

I awoke, after a not totally restful night, to a glorious morning: sunshine, blue sky, little wind. Definitely a day for Belinda (those who are new to this should know that Belinda is my trusty bicycle and means of keeping slightly fitter than a couch potato!) So after a healthy breakfast (cereal and scrambled egg) I grabbed the shopping list... and then had a thought. Almost ready for posting was a parcel for my grandson (Dan, if you're reading this, then the cat is well and truly out of the bag!) So I addressed it, found the parcel tape and taped it up more securely than the mere sellotape it had had before, and put it in a bag for attaching to Belinda's carrier.

Off I set, with the morning sun at my back. I have a standard route for exercise combined with shopping: about the first mile is on road, then I get onto a bridleway which goes up quite a hill, steep indeed at the end, and then a bit more on road before more bridleways which decant me just up from Morrison's. I was delighted to get up the steepest bit still riding: sometimes I have to get off and walk, but today - admittedly in the lowest gear going - I kept riding. The short stretch of road to the next bridleway has a lovely view out towards the coast - you can just about see the North Sea at one point - and from the vantage point of a quite high saddle you can see even more! I felt at peace, and very content, as I turned off the road: I was keeping fit, doing a useful task - indeed two, posting the present and shopping - and the sun shone so I was riding 'in the light', a good Quaker term! I began to sing 'Oh what a beautiful morning' as I rode along, being only slightly embarrassed when I realised that a couple of dog walkers had been in earshot.

Arriving at the shopping centre, I locked up the bike and took the parcel to the post office: over £5 postage! But my grandson is worth it and I've no other way of getting it to him this side of May: I just hope he likes it. (He's very computer literate and has his own blog, so I'm not going to say what was in the parcel as he could well read this!!) Then to the shop, to get milk and a few other things I needed: and then back home, a slightly long way round to avoid riding behind a lorry with the most dreadful exhaust emissions possible. It was smoky enough riding away from it!

After my usual light lunch (soup and garlic bread and a yoghurt) I went back to the kitchen and began work on the next task: making the Christmas cake. I love doing this sort of thing: it was great to find all the ingredients, prepare the tin, make the mix and set it to bake. Then I went to have a nap.

Just as I was ready to get up, a friend rang me and suggested meeting for lunch tomorrow: so I have that pleasant event in prospect. I went and took the cake out of the oven, stuck in a skewer to check it was cooked (it was) and left it to cool in the tin as the recipe says. Then, finally, I went for my 'morning' bath, a relaxing soak in sensuous aromatherapy bubbles. I got out just in time to get dressed and catch the Metro into town, to meet my friend Julia for a meal prior to yet another visit to our wonderful concert hall, The Sage Gateshead. A pleasant, if over-generous, pasta al forno and a bus ride which should have been about ten minutes but took 25 due to a silly, round the houses route and heavy Christmas traffic, and we were there. The concert was a Classic FM one, in every sense: Elgar, Vaughan William's exquisite 'The lark ascending' played as well as I've ever heard it by Bradley Creswick (who should be hetter known than he is), and then after the interval a vivacious performance of the Mozart Clarinet concerto, making this 'old chestnut' sound like a new and fresh piece. The concert ended with the emotive 'Variations on a theme of Thomas Tallis', a piece I've loved since I was a teenager and once wanted to use as the background for an anti-war film shot entirely in cemeteries.

So all in all a good day: and the icing on the cake was yet to come. I thought I'd do a preliminary sketch for a new blog: I'm going on a long trip to Australia and New Zealand next year, and I want to blog every day so friends back home can see what I'm doing. So to start it off I thought I'd write a bit of background as to why I was going, starting with a wish to go to the opera in Sydney. I wanted to mention the designer of the Opera House and couldn't remember his name, so I looked it up... and the site had an inviting link to 'buy tickets'. So after finishing the draft (far too long) of the blog entry, I went to see if booking had opened for March, and it had (unlike last time I went, a month ago). So I registered, looked up what was available (horribly expensive, one of the two seats I bought was over £100), threw caution to the winds and booked for my two favourite operas which happen to be the ones they're doing on the two dates I can go! One is La Traviata and the other is Tosca: and I have the seats booked and paid for, to collect on arrival. My lifetime ambition is one step closer! What a way to end a really good day.

The Road to Copenhagen

I said I'd say a bit about the meeting. It's now a week plus later, and to be honest I don't remember all that much, except that there was in the end a good debate about coal fired power stations. One man, an experienced engineer, pointed out that if you replace an old coal fired power station running at 35% efficiency by a modern one, even without carbon capture, running at 46% efficiency then by building 'new coal' you're actually reducing CO2 emissions. This didn't go down too well with the green brigade, but to me the only answer is to ask how you can be sure it's a replacement and not an addition. That would be my worry.

I'm beginning to realise that a majority of people in the developed world are going to have to make major changes in their lifestyle if we are going to succeed in keeping global warming to a level where it won't be a total disaster. Those who suggest it's not man made miss the point, here: it's not in doubt that man contributes to greenhouse gases, and if that's the case than we can lower the rate of warming by contributing substantially less. (Actually, the world's major science academies all agree that the phenomenon is human caused: one researcher tried to find what the balance was between scientific papers in refereeed journals which supported the idea that global warming is man made and those that opposed that idea. She found the ratio was 100% in favour: no papers at all in her substantial sample suggested that this is a natural phenomenon. It's only irresponsible journalists like Melanie Phillips, on Question Time recently, who suggest differently: Melanie had the gall to say that the ice caps aren't melting and polar bears are thriving. She's clearly on a different planet: the evidence is overwhelming.

So what sort of changes will we all have to make? One suggestion is we should go vegan, because of the amount of methane produced by livestock. But I do wonder about this one... what about the methane produced by all those bean-eating vegans! I want to look for some proper research on this one, and haven't got round to that yet. And I don't believe we've evolved to be vegans. If the problem, then, is too many cows, surely the answer is eat less meat rather than no meat, and eat meat other than beef which is apparently the chief offender. Having just eaten a delicious piece of Farmers Market local leg of lamb, I'm not feeling in the least guilty. Maybe more insulation (but how many emissions were produced in making it?) and more public transport (but I've done only about 1500 miles in six months in the car, hardly heavy motoring!) are part of the answer. But then..... you'll have seen I'm resisting not having my milk and cheese. Others will similarly resist not having their 4x4 or their long haul flight holidays..... and there are no easy answers.

I'm not optimistic about Copenhagen. There will be millions of words, but will it save even as much in the way of emissions as was created by having the conference in the first place? Somehow I can't feel sure even of that. But watch this space: you never know.

Shopping by Metro

It's been an amazing day, starting with a visit to the dentist for bite impressions so that the new denture I'm having made will be a perfect fit. I'd decided to go on into town to get just three things: first, the rest of my Christmas cards which I always get from the charity card shop they have in St. Thomas Church, opposite the University in the centre of town. Second, I wanted to look at placemats for my nice new dining table which Liz said she'll give me for Christmas, and finally I wanted to go over to The Sage, our superb concert hall on the south bank of the river, to get tickets for Murray Perihia who's coming in January. But it didn't quite work out like that!

I went to get the cards first: and whilst I was at it, I picked up some Fair Trade honey from the fair trade shop, also in the church. I do like to use fair trade products as much as I can, and the Sweet Justice honey is highly recommended, having a lovely subtle taste and going very well with my Sunday croissant. Then I walked up to the Eldon Square shopping centre, thinking I'd go to John Lewis' to get navy tights (so few people keep navy nowadays) and to use their quite posh loo. Now the ladies' loo is next to the toy department, and that brought to mind my lovely grandson Danny (isn't it a pity I can't put his photo on here, for 'child safety' reasons). I found a present for Danny (I read his blog, so he might read mind, so I won't say what I got!), but didn't look at their place mats as I'd done so previously and they hadn't inspired me. Instead I went into Fenwicks, found a lovely set with matching coasters, French bistro scene, and bought them while they were there rather than leaving Liz to get them. I'm pragmatic like that and so is she, she won't mind at all that I found and got them.

This was all getting quite heavy, so I thought I'd better get down to The Sage to get the tickets, and then take everything home. But as I arrived at the Monument, the nearest metro station (for as a paid-up Greenish Woman I'd naturally taken public transport and left Buttercup, my shiny yellow car, at home), I found that the Christmas Market was on! I love this market: there are both food stalls and gift stalls, it's the only place I know outside Australia where you can get kangaroo burgers (not to mention Ostrich burgers, Wild Boar burgers and a few other very odds and sods) and loads of other culinary offerings. I had a quick look, and decided that having lunch there whilst carrying heavy shopping wasn't on. So I took the Metro home, dumped the luggage and came more or less straight out again on the metro back to town.

Now as an over 60 I can do this with impunity: I have a Gold Card which costs all of £12 a year and gives me free Metro travel after 9.30 and any time at weekends. But if I didn't qualify for one, all these journeys would have added up, and a much cheaper and more convenient option would have been to take the car, put it in a car park and dump luggage in it as and when necessary. And were there two people without cards, the metro fares would have added up to around £20 (unless you'd known in advance you were going to go back and forth, in which case you'd have got a day ticket - but of course I hadn't planned it that way). So my Greenish poin is, why can't everyone have cheap, subsidised Metro fares to encourage them to leave the car at home? We know that measures to avoid climate change will cost money, but this would be relatively cheap and could cut down a lot of short journey emissions.

Sermon over! I had a delicious Maltese spicy beef wrap for my lunch, washed down with a traditional glass of Gluhwein (German mulled wine, gorgeous in the open air on a winter's day), followed by some mini Dutch pancakes with maple syrup. Then I went round the shops, buying some cheese, some olives, some stuffed pepper things which make a lovely starter, some Dolmades (always a favourite, I love Greek food and these are little parcels of rice wrapped in vine leaves) - not to mention some assorted marzipan and a copy of the Big Issue. I'm so grateful to have a lovely warm home that I feel for the homeless, and selling the Big Issue must be a thankless task.

So finally over to the Sage on the hybrid electric bus to get the tickets: back on the same bus, it having gone up to the Gateshead interchange and back whilst I was getting them, and another walk past market and shops en route to the Metro. At one of these (I won't say where as the recipient reads this blog) I bought what I hope will be a nice present for my niece Angie... oh, and dropped into Moben Sharps Dolphin who put in my beautiful bathroom two years ago to ask about new kitchens. Finally back home, where very soon I went for a nap.... and woke up at 6.15 p.m., disastrously late for eating and going to a meeting at 7! So I settled for the meeting, having a quick cuppa and a macaroon to keep me going. And the meeting? well, see the next post!

Greenish fingers?

Those who know me know that I hate gardening! So it was perhaps a little surprising that I spent most of this morning in my tiny garden, which is at the front of the house, just one bed some 14 feet by about 8.

Part of the reason was that the autumn leaves had again piled up on my front path, and in particular had blocked the drainage channel. Now we've not had it nearly so bad over here as they have in Cumbria, but you never know, and a clear drainage path seemed like a good idea. The other thing bugging me was that there is a bush in the garden, goodness knows what it is but it has darkish green shiny leaves, rather like a laurel but much, much bigger than bay leaves: and it had grown seriously too big. My friend Sue, who knows about these things, recommended to me that I should prune it in the autumn: but October was a busy month and I'd not got round to it.

So today I fetched bin bags, gloves, kneeling mat (a couple of newspapers in a supermarket carrier bag!), saw and secateurs, and set to work. First I cleared up all the leaves I could, which was most off the path, though I've left, on the whole, the ones on the bed itself to turn themselves into leaf mould which will feed the soil.... won't it? I must say the path looked a lot better for it. Then I set to on the bush. First I went outside, and cut off everything that was overhanging the pavement: this entailed sawing off some quite big branches, which I dumped on the front path to be dealt with later. Then I went round on the garden side and snipped and sawed off a good bit more.

Finally, I spent at least an hour sitting on the little low wall between my house and next door, with a bag between my legs, cutting everything into six inch lengths that would go easily into the bag and not make holes in the plastic. By noon I had two and a half bin bags full of garden waste, and the place looked a lot tidier. Very satisfying!

So now: do I try to find someone with a brown wheelie bin in which I might be able to put my waste, or do I just put it in the ordinary bin? I don't really want it to go to landfill when it could be either burned or (preferably) properly composted. But I have neither the knowledge, skill or equipment to do anything with it myself, so I'll be dependent on others if I'm to dispose of it in a green manner. Any suggestions?

Oh, dear, that's blown any chance of 10/10

The big project at the moment is planning a visit to the Antipodes, next February to April. It started with a long held desire to go to the opera in Sydney: I've always loved opera and I've long admired that unique building. I couldn't, however, go all that way whilst my elderly parents were still alive and might need me at short notice. Now they have died, both at well over 90, I can go for a decent length of time without worry.

And then it came to me that I might travel amongst Australian Quakers. I'd been reading a book by a well known Australian Friend, Janie O'Shea, and it described the tradition of 'intervisitation'. I consulted with others, and concluded this was something that it was right for me to do. So the plan is to start in Adelaide, and thence to Geelong, Melbourne, Canberra, Sydney, Newcastle (I couldn't go to Australia without seeing their Newcastle, could I!) and Brisbane. After that, back to Sydney and meet up with my sister, and then over to New Zealand for a three week holiday tour, coming back to Sydney for a night before going to Uluru (the Aborigine sacred site, aka Ayers Rock) and then finally to Perth whence I return home.

So I've just booked all the travel: this means flying some 25,000 miles in all. And I keep thinking that this is hardly greenish! But some of my greenest friends have been to Australia and/or New Zealand, without a qualm, so I do feel it's kind of 'my turn'. I've not done a long haul flight since Vancouver two years ago, and before that since being sent to do a job in Singapore in 1998. So I'm not really a world traveller, and there will be those who've done more air miles going to places in Europe, North Africa or the Middle East than I have to date. Still, Australia and NZ, and back, is a lot of miles.

Buying carbon offsetting is one way to restore a bit of self respect. I've been told this isn't always effective, but I do believe it's better than nothing, and it's one thing I like about EasyJet: they have buying UN approved carbon offsetting built into their ticket-buying website. But I do respect those who just won't fly any more, even if I'm not yet ready to join them, just as I'm not ready to give up meat and still less dairy produce. Someone has already asked me if I'm going by ship: but the cost of this is prohibitive, it's even more than a first class airfare.

So I end up feeling that I will do what I can: but reducing my carbon footprint by 10% in 2010 won't be possible, unless I can count the carbon offestting in too. But then, think how much less will be that footprint in 2011! I'll be Greenish Woman of the Year, I should think!

The occasion of war

Today being remembrance day, I've been acutely aware of how the parents of all those young men killed in Afghanistan must feel. As a Quaker pacifist, I don't think that war is ever the answer: but when confronted with men like the Taliban (and I mean men - can there be any women who truly believe they should be treated as the Taliban treat them?) I find this view seriously challenged. It's a dilemma: should we allow evil to flourish in order to maintain a principle, or should we consider every situation on its merits, and recognise that in practice we really can have a choice between two evils and end up with the lesser.

I've been reading, or rather dippping into, a fascinating book called 'The Pig that Wants to be Eaten' after the creature imagined by the late Douglas Adams in 'The Restaurant at the end of the Universe'. The book is a series of moral dilemmas, posed and then discussed, with a conclusion in each case. Several are relevant to Afghanistan. But I can see both sides of the argument: to have left the Taliban, with their American arms supplied in order to get the Russians out (ask an Afghan which was the better regime!) and let them create a school of terrorism on Al-Quaida principles, or to invade and try to restructure the country as a 'western' democracy because 'we think it's better for them', and how patronising is that!

What I've been told of the Taliban (which I have to recognise is necessarily one sided) makes them seem to be the most oppressive regime on earth, worse even than Hitler's Germany or Attaturk's Turkey (the first nation to commit modern genocide). I find it hard to understand how human beings can treat their fellow humans like that, and to pretend that this is in the name of religion - a religion whose very name means 'peace' - makes it even worse. It's a form of collective mysogeny and sadism combined. So what does a peaceful person do when confronted by this?

My one comfort is remembering the Soviet story. In 1985, I took part on one of the most memorable experiences of my life, singing in the Royal Festival Hall on Easter Monday. What we sang was a specially written cantata telling the story of the women of Greenham Common and their fight against the deadly cruise missiles, which had they ever been used would have slaughtered countless Russian women and children. The Greenham women felt part of a sisterhood of all the women of the world, and that the men-tality that produced the missiles was entirely wrong. Little did we think, as we told their tale that day, that within five years the Cold War would be over, the missiles gone and the Berlin Wall taken down, and that a little time later the base at Greenham would be demolished and the land returned to the people as a common once again. And all this without a shot being fired, a soldier being killed. But then, the Soviets were not driven by a supposed religion ('real' Muslims tell me the Taliban take on Islam is nothing to do with that religion but is a cultural distortion of the true faith): they were driven by an ideology and it just became clear that it didn't altogether work. Even the more fundamentalist-communist Chinese have realised that capitalist practices bring more wealth, which is how they have become a much richer industrialised nation in the last 20 years (though there is still immense poverty). I have a lot of sympathy for the Chinese government because the scale of what they have to do is so vast that the problems are pretty intractable, and I do believe that they will gradually drop the oppressive side of their system, stop shooting so many people, and even possibly free Tibet. We won't need to invade them.

But meanwhile British troops are in Afghanistan for the foreseeable future, and British hearts will continue to break as the death toll goes on, and on, and on. I wouldn't live in Wooton Basset for the world: I'd find the pain too much. I have cried over the coffins and mentally stood with the parents and wives of the dead, and agonised over what can be done: but I can't find any answers. Was it Wilfred Owen who said 'All a poet can do today is warn'?

Diversity and other things

I said in the last post that I'd say something about the course I'd got on at the Quaker study centre in Birmingham. Well,,, it was about the wide diversity of belief amongst Quakers. Most people think of us as a religious group but then there are Quakers who don't believe in a God... and others who have a pretty conventional view of Christianity. I said at one point that I thought most people who call themselves Christians would accept two basics: first, that Jesus was the one unique incarnation of God, and second that his death in some way enabled the salvation of mankind. As I don't believe either of those things, certainly not expressed like that, I feel I've moved on from orthodox Christianity and would call myself a Post-Christian, that is someone who tries to follow the teachings of Jesus but without attaching any kind of 'magic' either to Jesus the person or to his teachings as they have come to us in the bible.

But enough of theology. The weekend was also great because of the company, the setting, the lovely gardens, and because by staying on an extra night I was able to see my daughter and grandson who live down in Oxfordshire. That was good too: and I couldn't have done this if I hadn't gone by car (or not easily, at any rate). I'd taken my lovely new car, called Buttercup because it's bright yellow, largely because having only got on the course at the last minute it was too late to get cheap train tickets. And when I left on the Monday, I could pootle back home at whatever pace I liked, avoiding the horrendous road works that delayed me literally for hours on the way down, and stopping when I felt like it.

Going by car, of course, isn't even slightly greenish when there's only one person in it, even when it's a greenish car with low emissions and only £35 a year road tax. But whilst public transport has such a silly fare structure, people will go on using cars. If all the trains were cheaper, we'd all use trains, they'd have to put more on and so there would be more money to invest in infrastructure. It could be a positive feedback system....

And meanwhile I've been having conversations about why others think I should be vegan and why I shouldn't have a kettle. Apparently cows pass so much methane it contributes more per meat-eater to greenhouse gases than a 4x4. (I find that hard to believe, especially as the statistic comes from a confirmed vegan! I mean, they would say that, wouldn't they. The kettle one was even odder: apparently, if you have a gas hob, it pollutes the world less if you boil water in a saucepan on a gashob, because the power stations that power your kettle are so inefficient. Again, I'm unclear: nuclear power stations, whatever other problems they bring, don't produce much by way of greenhouse emissions, and nor do wind farms: I'm on a green energy tariff.

What it all goes to show is that the issues aren't as straightforward and obvious as some would have you believe. My advice: don't believe what people with vested interests tell you, and use common sense.

OH, dear! I really am NOt a natural blogger. I'd intended to write every day on my trip away...ah, well, I'll try to make up for it a little.

the rest of my Cornish trip was wonderful: you can see a little of it on my friend Angie's blog (Angie's Aspirations, on here). We visited St. Michaels Mount, the Lizard and had a day shopping in Truro. At the end of the week I was dropped off at my cousin Anne's in Bristol: I'd met her for the first time only last year at my Dad's memorial service. We got on just so well, had a lovely day visiting the SS Great Britain (the world's first luxury liner) and Wesley's first chapel, the New Rooms in Bristol. Then it was off to catch the EasyJet to Edinburgh, to stay with my friend Madeleine before talking to Quakers about the Quaker operation in Europe, on the council of which I served for seven years or so across the millenium year. That too was a very pleasant episode: Madeleine and I worked together organising the huge Quaker event in York this summer - that is, we were both on the organising committee - and her husband Robin does the same job I once did with the Open University, training and managing tutors.
I finally got home on the Wednesday afternoon, nearly a week ago now, to a committee meeting in the evening and a study group the next day! Sing ho for being retired..... and then I heard I had a place on a course at the Quaker study centre in Birmingham. More of that next time.