The Garden of Discordia

So today was my physio let's see how you're doing assessment, at the different health centre -

- which I was in a bit of a swivet about getting to, because the obvious straightforward route is the longest, and there are shorter ones but these involve a tangle of residential streets -

- not to mention, whichever way you slice it, the road winds uphill all the way, yea, to the very end, because the health centre is bang opposite Parliament Hill.

Nonetheless, I found a route which seemed doable, which said 24 mins (and that was not actually starting from home base but from the road by the railway line), which I thought was possibly optimistic for an Old Duck such as myself, but mirabile dictu it was in fact just over 20 but under 25 minutes, win, eh?

And took me along streets I have seldom walked along since the 70s/80s when I was visiting them more frequently for Reasons.

Had a rather short but I hope useful meeting with the physio - some changes to existing exercises and a new one or two.

Thought I would get a bus back as I had had time to check out the nearby bus stops, and there was one coming along which according to the information at the stop was going in a useful direction.

Alas it was coming from the desired direction, but still, cut off a certain amount of homewards slog.

No bread made this week, last week's + rolls holding out.

Firday night supper: sardegnera with spicy Calabrian salami; okay but not the great sardegnera I've accomplished.

Saturday breakfast rolls: the ones loosely based on James Beard's mother's raisin bread, made with Marriage's Light Spelt Flour.

Today's lunch: lemon sole fillets, which I baked thus - first cooked chopped shallots, chopped up butter and pancetta in hot oven for 15 mins, then added quartered little gem lettuce for a further 5 mins, then added petit pois (tinned, recipe said frozen but they only had huge bags of frozen) and white wine + water (recipe said vegetable stock but didn't have any) and placed sole fillets on top and seasoned with salt and pepper, baked for a further 5-10 mins, added lemon zest just before serving (this was about finding something to do with spare packet of pancetta left over from the other week); served with warm green bean and fennel salad (dressing actually olive oil + white wine + tarragon, left for a bit to marinate and strained over the beans) (this was using up the fennel left over from last week, also last red onion); and sticky rice with coconut milk and lime leaves.

Wo, wo, 'tis the EndofaNera.... street performers rue end of busking at Leicester Square. You know, having some acquaintance with a) colourful Victorian streetlife and b) historical studies of the policing of same I bet there were people bemoaning the loss of those colourful if dodgy characters, though I also have some distant recollection of people going spare over e.g. barrel-organs and other street music at a possibly somewhat later date, rather like the occupants of Leics Sq businesses who cannot hear themselves think, let alone make phone-calls.

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More from the Cambpop people on the latter end of life over time: Did anyone “retire” in the past? and How did the elderly poor survive in the past?

For centuries, the elderly were regarded as the category par excellence of the ‘deserving poor’, and charitable aid took a broad spectrum of forms. Begging, while not necessarily condoned, was often regarded as an acceptable and unthreatening pursuit when undertaken by the aged. One longstanding area of philanthropy specifically focused on the elderly were alms houses. These were funded by voluntary donations (rather than through the poor law) and usually offered separate private accommodation for older people. At most, 2-3 percent of those over 60 secured an alms house place. There was great geographical variability, but alms house inmates were disproportionately selected from the ‘respectable’ female and church-going elderly.

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Cassie Watson, whose work on murder some of you may have read (it's excellent), has turned her attention to violence short of lethal: Investigating the ‘Assault Deficit’ - assault was in fact a vague and ill-defined term:

By 1861 when the Offences Against the Person Act came into effect, the word assault was not actually defined. Instead, it was used to designate a variety of specific acts that might cause physical harm to another person. It was left up to judges to decide what was meant by ‘harm’. Throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the word ‘harm’ was typically associated with the effects of physical assault, and so the phrase ‘bodily harm’ was used more regularly than ‘harm’. However, it seems likely that the wider concept implied in today’s usage — encompassing both emotional harm and negligence — was understood. However, if the harm took some other form, for instance disease or mental trauma, an indictment under the 1861 statute could fail.

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This is a reasonable account of the problem with 'simple' solutions - 'if you just only....' whether the solution is some tech fix or Returning to 'Nature' and 'the Natural Way': The Flawed Ideology That Unites Grass-Fed Beef Fans and Anti-Vaxxers.

As somebody who has been wont to point out that actually getting Drs Ehrlich and Hato's magic bullet to where it would do some good was a complex process, I am on board with being v sceptical of solutionism.