Monday, August 23, 2010

For Want of a Switch


The dishwasher has broken. The start button no longer works and it is embedded within a control unit, the cost of which is over £180.

I dismantled it (having nothing to lose) and discovered that the switch is a surface mounted microswitch, which is activated by a flexing plastic rod (the lower two linked circles above). The plastic rod has broken from its mounting (the upper two linked circles).

So, for the sake of a small plastic mounting costing pennies, a £180+ dishwasher is junk.

However, I think I've discovered a way of activating the microswitch with a chopstick.

Marvellous.

Friday, July 9, 2010

It’s not just about the pelicans

or: why Obama isn’t helping matters and why the Deepwater Horizon disaster might be a good thing after all.

Three months after an explosion destroyed the Deepwater Horizon and started a chain of events that has resulted in the “largest oil spill in US history”, there are some important questions that should be asked, and some that should not be asked. At least, not now. There has been a considerable amount of vilification aimed at BP, both from the US media, and from the US authorities. I do not propose to tackle here whether BP were negligent in their safety arrangements or what the causes of the accident were, nor will I discuss whether a yacht race in the Solent was an appropriate choice of recreational activity for BP’s CEO. However, I shall address the response from the US authorities to BP’s actions, and to the comments made by US President, Barak Obama.

Whether or not BP were slow to respond to safety concerns before the explosion, it cannot reasonably be said that they are failing to react to the situation or procrastinating while considering who to blame. In 2001, a fertiliser factory belonging to Total Fina Elf exploded in the city of Toulouse. The initial response of TFE was to insist that terrorists were to blame, rather than to mitigate the effects of the disaster. In 1998, a large explosion at an Esso gas plant was responsible for the almost complete loss of Victoria's natural gas supply. Esso responded by hiring a large team of lawyers. The BP response, by comparison, was hasty.

  • There have been immediate activities to rescue the injured and to dowse the flames.
  • There have been short-term activities to limit the flow of oil, including the use of Remotely Operated Underwater Vehicles (ROV) to attempt to close the blow-out preventer (BOP) valves on the sea bed, the construction and installation of a containment dome over the site of the leak, and the use of golf balls and mud to “top kill” the leak.
  • There have been longer term activities to permanently close off the damaged well head, by drilling two relief wells to intercept the drilled well and divert the oil away from the damaged site.

The thing about the long term, permanent solution is that it takes time to drill two relief wells. It also takes time to construct a containment dome and float it out to the correct position. It even takes time to amass a sufficiently large collection of golf balls to attempt a top kill. This is why none of these activities were carried out in isolation: ROVs were attempting to close the BOP valves while the dome was being constructed, and all this time, those relief wells were being drilled.

Currently, oil and gas are being captured by the “top hat”, LMRP, BOP riser, and at least one manifold and taken to the surface, where they are being processed, stored and taken away by a variety of vessels, including the Discovererer Enterprise, the Q4000, Discoverer Clear Leader, Helix Producer 1, Evi Knutsen, Juanita, Seillen,Toisa Pisces and the Loch Rannoch. That is a lot of vessels. In addition, Development Driller III and Development Driller II are drilling the relief wells, and countless supply ships, tenders, and support vessels are flitting between their larger companions.

Nonetheless, there is a vast amount of highly flammable hydrocarbon sloshing around in the Gulf of Mexico and although it is tragic to see it washing up on the beaches of the US Gulf States, there is even more of it washing around all those ships, rigs and other vessels.

This is the background to the situation against which Barak Obama said he wanted to know “whose ass to kick” to get BP working faster. The fact is, that some things just can’t be speeded up just because somebody with his finger on the trigger half the world’s nuclear arsenal tells you to work harder. The 1979 explosion aboard the Mexican operated Ixtoc I platform resulted in a very similar oil spill and it took nine months to stop the flow of oil into the Gulf of Mexico. And they had Red Adair on the team.

So what is the effect on the clean-up operations of BP being told to do more and do it faster? Well, the dedicated BP oil spill website invites suggestions from the public for additional steps they might take. Beyond that, all they can do is work faster. Bearing in mind that they are already working 24-hours a day, offshore oil platforms usually work two 12 hour shifts, but you can be sure that nobody is getting much rest out there. The result is fatigue and stress, in an environment where a lot of unknowns are butting against a lot of constraints. Now, unfamiliarity with a situation where there is the potential for severely adverse consequences can increase the likelihood that somebody will make a mistake by a factor of 20. Trust me, I’m an ergonomist. A shortage of time available for error detection on correction can increase the likelihood of error by a factor of 10. Other significant error producing conditions that would seem to be relevant here, include strong time pressures (thank you, Mr Obama), task complexity, co-ordination difficulties between different teams (remember all those vessels?), adverse weather conditions (hurricane season is upon us), cognitive overload (everybody shouting at once), fatigue, and high emotional stress.

All in all, we have created the kind of conditions, where errors are more likely to be made, than to be avoided. We can only hope that their systems are robust enough to tolerate and recover from these errors before they become accidents.


Let us remember that there are dozens of vessels floating amid several thousand barrels of highly flammable hydrocarbons, and hope that knowing whose ass to kick doesn’t result in another serious accident, this time involving more than one vessel and eleven lives.

So how can any of this possibly be a good thing? It certainly hasn’t been good for pelicans, shrimp, hoteliers, fishermen, New Orleans restaurateurs New York pension funds, US / UK relations or Tony Hayward’s public image. It has helped Barak Obama to look statesmanlike for the benefit of US citizens in the run-up to the Mid Term Elections, done wonders for Class Action lawyers and helped the balance sheets of companies with a ready access to oil booms.

It has also been a wake up call to a sector that might have been getting complacent. Even Barak Obama had just relaxed the moratorium on deep-sea drilling, in the belief that it is now sufficiently safe to extract oil from these highly challenging environments. No doubt, those involved in the technical aspects of deep-water extraction are well aware of the challenges they face, the costs involved and the sophistication of the equipment needed. However, when costs meet challenge, a belief that “we’ve done this before, we can do this again” can prevail, and reinforce the idea that nothing will really go wrong.

When people do not believe that an accident can really happen, they are not going to take seriously, those precautions that should prevent it from occurring or mitigate against its consequences. This is why labourers are frequently injured because they do not bother wearing protective gear, why people are killed at level crossings because they cross when the barriers are down, and why it was felt to be safe to launch the space shuttle Challenger, despite a sub-zero temperature which was known to affect the integrity of seals on the fuel tanks.

Who was to blame for the explosion on board the Deepwater Horizon? We don’t yet know: BP, Transocean, Halliburton and Anadarko are all blaming each other, and attempts have already been made to say that it was all down to operator error, enabling the blame to be laid at the feet of one deceased oilman. The real culprit is the lack of belief that such a catastrophe is possible. I flew out to the Q4000, in December 2003 and the number of oilrigs in the Gulf of Mexico is astounding. Equally astounding was the belief that they really knew their stuff and nothing could possibly go wrong. This lack of belief in the possibility of disaster leads organisations and individuals to worry less about how concrete is used to seal in riser packages, how soon concerns about failures in BOP hydraulic systems are addressed or whether operators are precisely following an elaborate set of procedures.


It has been reported that concern had been raised about problems with the BOP, which had not been resolved by BP. However, concerns had almost certainly been raised about a host of issues on Deepwater Horizon, and elsewhere: why worry about one of the hydraulic clamps? Even if it fails, there are three other sets that will still work. Similarly, why worry about a faulty low altitude alarm when there are other systems to prevent a helicopter from ditching; why worry about the failure of a high level alarm when there is a trip system to prevent a tank from over filling; why worry about an inactive Mode 4 IFF system when the aircraft has Mode 1/3 and Mode 2 systems in operation; why worry about a broken gauge when an automatic valve will prevent the reactor from boiling dry; and why worry about a malfunctioning train protection system, when signalling interlocks will prevent two trains from entering the same stretch of track?

With all these systems in place, what could possibly go wrong? In 2009, two helicopters ditched in the North Sea within six weeks of each other. In 2005, a tank overfilled, causing the largest ever peacetime explosion at Buncefield. The USAF shot down an RAF Tornado over Kuwait in the First Gulf War. Three Mile Island was the worst civil nuclear accident (until Chernobyl). In 1999, a packed commuter train crashed head on into an Inter City service, which had left Swansea with a broken protection system. In every case, there was a lack of belief that a serious accident was possible; therefore these elaborate and expensive safety systems were really necessary.

A lack of belief in the possibility of a disaster almost certainly contributed to the fire and explosion on board the Deepwater Horizon. The possibility of an accident and the scale of its dreadful consequences are now apparent to all companies and individuals working in this field. Maybe as a result of their newfound belief, they will once again concentrate on ensuring sufficient levels of attention are given to safety systems, work practices, equipment provision and workforce training. Maybe, the Deepwater Horizon disaster might be a good thing after all.

Monday, May 3, 2010

Introducing Merioneth and Llantisilly

Tizzy:


MerryMerry.

They have been with us a week, now and are about nine weeks old.

You may now say "Ahhh!"


Tuesday, March 23, 2010

History. Restored.

I have restored the second part of a post I made two years ago.


I made the post in earnest, reviewed it in the calmness of the following day, and decided to leave it in place.

However, it became apparent that the post might make things worse, should it be, um, widely read; so it was removed shortly afterwards.

I think two years is long enough: let the truth be told.

And please, let me know what you think.

We Moved!

So, it's been ten months (give or take) since the last post, and I always meant to make retrospective posts and stuff. And I meant to start blogging about:
our plans to move, then about:
our house search, then about:
our moving process, then about:
our efforts to renovate this place.

Oh well. The lack of broadband was an issue for a while, but not even that excuse has been valid for a while.

I'll fill you in with the details. Or maybe, I'l get distracted. Again.

Anyway: we've moved. You may know where: if you don't and want to, the drop me a note.

So, how are you?

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Maths problem

So, train A leaves Cheltenham at 21:13, running 15 minutes late. It is predicted to call at University station eight minutes behind schedule, at 21:47 and then to arrive at Birmingham New Street on time, at 21:45.

a] What speed must it be travelling as it passes through Five Ways Station?
b] What kind of research are the boffins at Birmingham University doing?



Saturday, May 23, 2009

Waiter! There's a pig in my dinner.

We went away for the weekend. Well, part of the weekend anyway, for reasond that may become clear.

The Best Western hotel in Alsager (I name good places when I review them, there's no reason why I shouldn't name ... less good ... places too) looks lovely on its website, and indeed at first site on arrival it looks not bad. I suppose I've been to enough business hotels in out-of-the-way places not to be surprised at stale air in the bedroom or the repeated requests to know what time I want to be seated for dinner. Or the resigned feeling of realising that the view from one's window is of the kitchen waste bins.

However, there were a few special touches that this place had to offer:

When I was asked (again) what time I wanted dinner and replied that I would await the arrival of my friend, you'd think that they would mention that she had cancelled her reservation. No.

When we went to dinner and were invited to take drinks in the cocktail bar, you'd think that they would offer cocktails. ("would you like a drink?", "How about a mojito?", "Er, don't know what that is"). No.

When arriving at the table with our bottle of wine already there and opened (not opened in our presence, tut tut), you'd think that someone would pour some for us. No.

When finally one of the waiting staff brings our main course and finally offers to pour the wine, you might think that they'd know not to fill a red wine glass up to the brim. No.

When you've ordered beef medallions with an oxtail suet pudding, you'd expect to get something close to that, rather than pork medallions. No.

When you point out to the waiting staff that pork is in fact, not beef, you'd expect a bit more than a shrug and "I'll mention it to Chef". No.

I could go on. Breakfast was amusing, in a David Brent kind of way. Checking out brought a moment of levity when we were asked if we'd enjoyed our stay.

To be fair, they did discount our bill. But I don't think we'll be rushing back.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Nine geese a-laying


The real perks of commuting to work by bike is getting to see what's going on along the canal. Recently I counted nine canada geese nesting at various points along the water's edge between Oxford Road and Manchester United.

At least four families of goslings have so far hatched out and been gently shepherded into the water by their parents.

I can't help feeling this goose's brood will have a slightly more exciting start to life, though.






Friday, March 13, 2009

Thank you Orange



But apparently my businees is important to them.

Monday, March 9, 2009

The last component is in place

We are taking a short holiday to Spain. By train.  That nice man at Seat 61 has plenty of ideas and route information for low-carbon journeys by rail, so Spain seemed like a nice option.

Eurostar to Paris,
Sleeper to Madrid,
train to Granada,
Sleeper to Barcelona,
Sleeper to Paris,
Eurostar back to London.

Three nights on board the Trenhotel will be augmented by "normal" hotels in Madrid and Granada.  The journey will (hopefully) be as much part of the holiday as the destination.

We'll see.


Thursday, February 12, 2009

Mixed Up Confusion

Another meme. From Reach Out and Touch the Screen (and others):
 
  1. Put your iTunes, Windows Media Player, etc. on shuffle (yes,other mp3 players DO exist).
  2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
  3. Write the song name down, whatever it is, no cheating...
  4. Share your answers via your blog (Some people add you tube links, but I'm not that clever...).
 

My itunes threw up the answers below. Despite only having 440 tunes on the macine, it's still interesting in places, and all genuine. Except for the two that I swapped around because the juxtaposition of question and song was, erm, a bit rude.  And no, I don't know anybody called Veronica.
 
1.If someone says, "Is this okay?" You say...?
I want to be the chairman of the National Trust (Fat & Frantic)
 
2.How would you describe yourself?
Sweet Bride (Juliet Turner)
 
3. What do you like in a guy/girl?
The girl with the smile (Juliet Turner)
 
4. How do you feel today?
Will you still love me tomorrow? (Carole King)
 
5. What is your life's purpose?
Veronica (Elvis Costello)
 
6. What is your motto?
Cabin Essence (Brian Wilson)
 
7. What do your friends think of you?
Maxwell's Silver Hammer (The Beatles)
 
8. What do your parents think of you?
Little Clown (Jason Collett)
 
9. What do you think about very often?
My Senses Fly (Eden Burning)
 
10. What is 2+2?
Surrender (Elvis Presley)
 
11. What do you think of your best friend?
In the Hall of the Mountain King (Edvard Grieg)
 
12. What do you think of the person you like?
Remind Me (Royksopp)
 
13. What is your life story?
Hard Rock Hallelujah (Lordi)
 
14. What do you want to be when you grow up?
The Valley (Sarah Masen)
 
15. What do you think of when you see the person you like?
It's the loving things you do (Marmalade)
 
16. What will you dance to at your wedding?
(Now and then there's) A fool such as I (Elvis Presley)
 
17. What will they play at your funeral?
Us and Them (Pink Floyd)
 
18. What is your hobby/interest?
The Star and the Wise Man (Ladysmith Black Mambazo)
 
19. What is your biggest fear?
Wish I (Jem)
 
20. What is your biggest secret?
The End (The Beatles)
 
21. What do you think of your friends?
More Fool Me (Genesis)
 
22. What do you want right now?
Ascension (Mike Oldfield)
 
23. What will You post this as?
Mixed up Confusion (Bob Dylan)
 
24. Last words? 
Because the Night (Patti Smith)

Monday, January 26, 2009

Dey Kraham slum cleared


In the early hours of the morning last Saturday, 24th January, 1500 families suddenly found themselves homeless.

Dey Kraham (literally: red earth) sits – or rather, sat – on the East side of Phnom Penh, near the National Assembly building and close to the mega casino owned by prime minister Hun Sen. At 2am on Saturday morning, all access routes into and out of the slum were blocked by the police, and heavy machinery was brought into place. At precisely 6am police and demolition workers entered Dey Kraham, using tear gas and flame throwers to disperse angry and frightened residents – many of whom had lived there for up to ten years.

Bulldozers were brought in, to crush the flimsy houses, while the residents scrambled to get clear. In some cases, people refused to leave their homes, and had to be persuaded to get out by NGO workers, moments before the buildings were flattened.

The process was completed by 8:00am.

Workers were paid $10 and were given breakfast and two litres of petrol.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Loss of Equity

At the risk of going all reachoutandtouchthescreen on you, I'm going to blog about shoes now.

Some time ago I realised I really really needed to replace the boring navy office shoes that I'd had re-heeled twice since I decided they needed replacing. I located a stockist of similar shoes in Didsbury - not the closest, but a small shop, which I preferred to support in this economic climate.

I can highly recommend Arnout's family shoes, both for the excellent customer service and their stock of quality shoes.

Much of their stock comes from Equity, who employ about 150 skilled people in Leicester. All their office shoes are manufactured in England, and I'm told by Mr and Mrs Arnout that it's a workers co-operative. Well, it was, but the reason the subject came up is that they say it's going to cease trading, not because it doesn't sell a million high quality british-made shoes a year, but because their pension deficit is increasing, partly because Flash Gordon: saviour of the world quietly removed the tax credit on pension dividends a few years ago, and partly because the credit crunch has made their investments shrink.

So there you have it, discover an excellent source of wide-fitting shoes, lose it all at the same time. 

During the course of the conversation, Mrs Arnout mentioned that another plus point to Equity was that their ladies boots were also built for real women. Now, I gave up even bothering to try on knee-high boots many years ago, after I worked out that all such boots were made for people with the legs of an anorexic twelve-year old. And, if the company's not going to be making them in the future, it would be daft not to even try them on, wouldn't it?

I have gorgeous boots. They make me happy. And they're doubly precious, since they will most likely be completely irreplaceable.


Sunday, January 4, 2009

I heard there was a secret chord..?

For the final word on the whole Christmas number 1 controversy,

On Christmas morning we went to church, in Rob's aunt's village. During the sharing of the peace, the organist played a lovely, haunting instrumental version of the song that was then at number 1, 2 and 36 in the charts. 

Therefore presumably, what the organist was trying to say was not "Peace be with you" but rather "Maybe there's a God above, but all I've ever learned from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you."

Perhaps it's a new form of subversive undercover atheism.


Dinner in Dunster

We had a quiet meal out, while in Cornwall: the Saturday after Christmas is not a busy time for the restaurateurs of Dunster.

A fish restauruant, with a concentration on local ingredients, Myn was in her element.  She went for shelfish ravioli, and while I was trempted by the tuna steak, I eventually plumped for the pork chops with a honey mustard sauce.  This actually came with something reminiscant of melted Christmans pudding: very tasty, but incredibly filling.  This meant that I had no room for pudding, so Myn enjoyed a cheese platter, while I nibbled on a grape.

There was a good winelist, which was varied and evenly priced.  

While the place was pleasantly decorated on the inside, the cottagy style, with the nicnack-filled windows made it look a bit like one of the several "expensive tat" shops that fill the High Street, so you might not particularly identify it as a restaurant from the street, or that it is open.  Walking through the door, I was half expecting to find myself in somene's from room, rather than a restaurant.

While there's no way of knowing what this would be like in a busier time of year, it was a good meal with attentive service in a pleasant atmosphere. 

What I did on my holidays


The compulsory Christmas catchup post.
It was my family's turn this year, so we went down to Cornwall.  My aunt lives in the pretty village of Devoran, the far side of Truro.  It's quite a drive, so I was grateful to be able to leave the driving to my Chris and my mother.  Myn, on the other hand, came down by train on Christmas Eve.
Usual Christmassy stuff happened: food; wine; church; coastal walk; Dr Who; Wallace & Gromit.  On the way back, we were dropped of at Taunton, from where we went by steam train to Dunster, for a couple of nights at the Yarn Market Hotel.

It was a pleasant stay: the steam trains were fun; there are some nice pubs in Dunster; some interesting walks to be had; and this interesting sign:
"End of public road".


Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Doobedoobedoo


We ate out at Dukes Grill, in Dukes 92, on the canalside in Castlefield. No bad.
It was a little cold, and the walk along the canal itself to get there made us readt for some warmth whne we arrived. Pity about the broken crokery outside the main entrance. They weren't busy and were certainly keen to serve us, so we repeatedly asked them to give us a little time to actually read the menu... In the end, I plumped for the 6oz ribeye bavette steak, beaten thin and marinaded overnight in garlic and olive oil. Myn opted for the beef & horseradish risotto and we had a side order of honey roasted root vegetables, with a bottle of Berri Estates shiraz.
Myn enjoyed the risotto, which (from my small sample) seemed to be ideally cooked: not chalky and not stodge. However, my steak was incredibly salty. It was also very tender, and the marinade had given it a pleasant taste. But my goodness, was it salty.
"How are you enjoying your meals?"
"Very nice thanks, but this steak is very salty"
"But they've only been marinaded in garlic and olive oil: it shouldn't be salty"
"Maybe it's my taste, but it is definately salty."
Eventually, they agreed that the marinade was too salty and offered us a free dessert. I had a sticky toffee pudding and Myn had a chocolate toffee brownie. Both were good, and neither - I'm glad to say - showed any sign of having been near a cream aerosol can.
The surroundings were pleasant enough. However, the music was a bit loud and one got the feeling that had the bar been full, then the noise would have been quite overpowering. Also, the back door opened directly into the restaurant area, which let in a cold blast every time it was used. So: overall not bad, but with a few provisos. Would possibly go again, but only if I wasn't after anything in particular. There are other placed to go for pizza / pasta / risotto, or for good steak, or for good fish. There are some excellent wine bars around that offer food and there are some great pubs you could visit.
In other words, Dukes 92 does high-end pub food. From that perspective, it does it well enough, but you may want a glass of water if you order a steak.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Fish

I dreamt about celeriac last night. Maybe it is a side effect of taking Imigran.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Still alive

Just in case anyone reading this blog was wondering, I am still alive and capable of typing.

Having been cruelly abandoned by a husband swanning off to the November Ops meeting, I find myself in the unusual position of having some time to blog, having already finished preparing the accounts for Sanctus 1 for last year, done a practice exam, bought some stocking fillers and some booze for me (There's a thought - excuse me for two minutes while I go and pour myself a glass.....................................................................sorry, that took longer than I was expecting, awkward shrink-wrapping over the cork) as well as some proper gifts, banked some cheques, picked up a parcel from the sorting office and earned a quid for participating in a market research survey. (Now then, you're conducting market research about chocolate bars, and you're paying people in money not chocolate. What's the thinking there?)

There's a few things I still haven't achieved today, but then I hadn't planned for Husband to detail me to exploring the European Christmas Markets in Manchester in search of stocking fillers. I have duly trudged through all the god-awfully twee clay cherubs and santas, foodstuffs, contenders for the title of most useless piece of clutter you could give to someone you really hated, and jewellery stalls staffed by the most miserable oriental women. Is it me or are they actually trafficked here in the same container as the merchandise and beaten if they don't sell enough tat?

I do like the Christmas markets for the atmosphere, the mulled wine and the opportunity to restock the larder with raclette cheese and salami, but I do also find they're really crowded, and better for buying Christmas decorations and burgers for yourself than gifts for other people.

Big points to: the guy with the stall between M&S and Burberry who's selling wooden things and scented-candles-in-wineglasses, the hand cream and other luxuriously smelly things merchant on the steps of the Town Hall, and the rather charming Frenchman tirelessly demonstrating the magic of telescopic fruit bowls in the middle of Albert Square.


Less points to: the choir of young people who turned up in St Ann's Square and sang beautiful a cappella arrangements of popular songs. Lovely to listen to, but they had dumped all their bags on the top step of the war memorial, on top of a wreath which had been laid there. There were other steps available.

Monday, November 17, 2008

goo goo g'joob

Dinner was out this evening: we went to Walrus, on Manchester High Street.  Most satisfactory.

Myn started on tempura squid, while I enjoyed thai fishcakes.  Mains were crispy pork and a beef mussaman curry, both served with a sufficiency of sticky rice.
Now, regular readers of this blog will be reminded of some menu descriptions from our time in Cambodia.  Indeed, the full menu included many items that gave me a brief flashback to many an evening spent trying to decide how to feed twelve hungry mouths.

Anyway, the food was lovely; the house wine was a surprisingly pleasant ugni blanc / colombard from Gascony; and the service was faily attentive, well informed and quite attractive.  The decor is a little eclectic / modern Japanesee, but not startlingly so for all that.

Would recommend it, and would definately go again.  A Rob Rave.