Categories
Sleep Thoughts

Dreaming the Dreams of Dreams

Last night was the last night of the Muslim fasting, and as darkness fell in the evening, prayers were offered via the very noisy loudspeakers perched atop of the mosques minarets, and even more noisy firework were being let off, booming like I have never heard before.

Fireworks were still being let off well after midnight, and even more prayers were started to be  broadcast via the minarets starting a good ten minutes after the clock struck twelve. I think their watches must be slow, why start ten minutes after midnight?

But I was tired, and sleep soon took me away into its arms, to a Never Never Land of make believe.

Dreams

I knew I was dreaming very vivid dreams, as I was consciously aware of the dreams taking place even in my sleep, it was as if I was awake knowing that a story was unfolding in my dreams, and I was happy.
At 4:05 am, another loud bang, rattling the whole bedroom, coming from yet another firework waking me up, my poor heart thumping with shock and my body aching from an overly hard bed. Some of these blasts could not be from shop bought fireworks as the blasts were too deep and the sound wave too big and penetrating. I am told they are home made. Interesting as I do not know of many people who can make explosives.
As I lay there, calming myself down, I tried to recall my dreams only minutes before I had been enjoying. Nothing, except I knew it had involved an ex girlfriend called Liz, (was her name Elizabeth Drew?), from the days when I was a young schoolboy, where certain urges were there, but what those urges meant, I had no idea at the time.
What were we doing in those dreams I had had?
They were not naughty, I knew that much, I know I could have shared the story-line with my mother, and I knew there had been a proper story-line, a good one. But, nothing came to mind of the dream.
Yet, other memories came flooding back as I lay there of actual events that happened, many, many years ago, of me hiding under the dining table one evening when I had visited Liz at her parents house, why I did that I have no idea, of me missing band practice so I could watch Star Trek on her parents TV, and walking with her around the water’s of Chasewater, a large reservoir near our home town. But, nothing about the contents of the dream I had just awoken from.
Other actual memories came flooding back too, of long lost girlfriends, of days when I was so innocent and naive, and so young. Paula Dawes from my college days, then the girl whose name eludes me, on the number 5 Walsall bus every morning and night, with her long straight red hair, we never dated but we were very close, and the girl I had my first real kiss with at a Xmas Party for the Lichfield Junior Accident Prevention Committee, sorry did I ever know your name?
Still nothing about my dream content.
I know I dreamt, but I cannot remember.
Often in my courses as we discuss what are dreams and why do we sleep, participants will say that they never dream. I disagree. Just because we cannot remember something happening, does not mean it never happened. We all dream.
Brains are designed to forget, to erase information, thy are designed to sleep, to dream, from the smallest of living beings, say the fruit fly, through mice, fish, whales, cats and dogs on to humans, without sleep and dreams we would be overwhelmed by information and the brain would die.
But, I would still like to recall my dream.
Categories
Thoughts

Memory provoking smell

Jasmine Flower
Jasmine

Today as I walked passed a single jasmine flower bloom, I caught the perfume in a quick brief experience which took me back into my memories of good times, happy times, far, far gone now in my past history.

Unlike the flower petals which will fall off the plant perhaps tomorrow, taking with it that wonderful perfume, my memories will stay with me, to be invoked again when I pass that jasmine plant, and I am lucky enough to catch it in bloom.
Categories
Culture NLP Thoughts Travels

A new creature for me

In Malaysia and other countries I often visit, I have experienced and seen things which is not the norm in my own country of the UK, that is not in the British culture, or is not contained in my belief system. I have had to learn to accept with an open mind new things presented to me as I travel.

Today I saw what I would have presumed was a grasshopper, but this creature had different markings that I have never seen before.
A new grasshopper for me
A new grasshopper for me
I have seen green grasshoppers, light yellow grasshoppers and more, but one with not such a dark brown with white markings.
But then, perhaps I do not know everything about grasshoppers.
I teach in NLP, we only know what we know, or want to know, and that is the world we live in, our belief system. Anything that does not fit into our existing or previous knowledge, learnings, what we have been taught, our understanding of our own small world would be strange, incorrect, and we will distort any new experience to fit into our existing understanding of our world.
Yet, obviously this creature was in existence prior to my seeing it. Just because I was not aware of it does not say it did not not exist.
We should all open our minds up for new possibilities, accept that a belief is just a belief based upon what we have been told by others, and we all have different beliefs.
Which or whose belief is correct?
We will never know until the lights go out.
So until I am told differently, this is a grasshopper.
Categories
Culture Thoughts Travels

Merry May Day

Unlike many parts of the World, the UK (United Kingdom explained) does not have a public holiday on 1st May. We have the first Monday in May as a Bank Holiday.

A Bank Holiday in the UK comes from a time when banks were shut and thus no trading could take place, and today we have eight such days although Northern Ireland has ten. Most notable dates of Bank Holidays are, Christmas Day, Boxing Day, New Years Day and Good Friday.
So today is May Day, and in my home town, The Royal Borough of Kingston upon Thames, we have Merry May Day celebrations, with the town full of singing, dancing, food stalls and people.
Merry May Day Street Performers
Merry May Day Street Performers
The town is alive with families having a nice warm summery day out.
Merry May Day Families in Kingston town
Merry May Day Families in Kingston town
Not only are there human families enjoying the glorious weather.
Family of ducks
Family of ducks
 
Geese and family
Geese and family

Bank Holidays have become family days, where people get together, but not for me, I have work to do, because some who know me say that every day is a Bank Holiday for me.

Merry May Day Families Kingston
Merry May Day Families Kingston
Categories
Thoughts

Disturbed Sleep

Phillip, are you up yet?“, or “Go back to sleep.“, were often comments I got in the morning from my mother when I was a younger boy. If she was awake, then I and the whole world should be awake, to be up and about, but, if she wanted a lay-in, if she wanted an extra hour of sleep, which always seemed to be on a Sunday, then I should also sleep in.

snoring Phillip
snoring Phillip
Living in a block of apartments in Norbiton Hall, it means I have a family above me, below me and to the two sides of me, and noise does penetrate the floors, ceilings and walls, which is understandable when sharing communal buildings.
It is the same in hotels, where one usually has a small room with very thin walls and doors separating ones-self and the other guests.
Travelling the world as I do on a regular basis, I have encountered many styles and types of hotels, and it seems that I do not sleep in the same bed for more than ten days at a time. I also encounter different cultures and behaviours.
Early morning calls for hotel guests, especially those on a tour when their bus/coach leaves at 7am. I did not ask for a call, but with the walls so thin I also hear their wake-up call.
Tours which need to have block booking of multiple rooms is another, “time to wake up” signal for Phillip, although I do not need one or placed one.
Suitcases being dragged down the corridors, and banging doors as guests come and go are a sleep disturbing episode.
School trips or sports team members love to stay-up late at night, perhaps going out to a late night disco, come back in high spirits, laughing, singing, shouting, running from room to room, banging doors.
Chinese tourists seem to have to shout from room to room with their doors closed. Have they not heard of the bedside telephone which they can use? The Oriental women seem to have to shout and in a high pitch voice in all their conversations.
In hotels catering for the Middle Eastern peoples, they seem to travel in family groups, and they allow the children to run from room to room into the early hours of the morning. OK, in my culture from the UK, all children have to be in bed for say 9pm. The hotel guests also leave their doors open to their rooms and shout to each other in conversations.
Then you get the couples, who, after a good night out, or a great meal in the restaurant, return to have an argument in their room. As I will not be able to probably understand their language, it all becomes a mass of unbearable noise which keeps me awake.
Then you get other noises.
A hotel in Ankara, Turkey where I stayed, gave me a really pleasant room, and I went to bed early to get enough sleep to give my course the next day. I was awoken with a thump, thump, thump, on the dividing wall between my room and the next. It was not long before the sounds of pleasure were penetrating the walls. Laying there, I had to endure the sounds for a few more minutes, until they ceased, and I was able to get to sleep.
An hour later, the thump, thump, thump, on my wall started again, waking me up, followed by the sounds of passion and pleasure. I lay there until it stopped and went back to sleep.
On the hour, every hour, all through the night this continued. I was exhausted.
The next morning I left my room to go down for breakfast the same time as the guests from the room next to mine left their room. She was young, model figured lady, and he was a wizen old man. I was amazed by his stamina, or could it be that the lady was a business lady?
I moved rooms.
On top of all the other noises as mentioned above, there are the traffic noises, people snoring, perhaps the person I am sleeping with fidgeting or talking in their sleep, keeping me awake at night.
Last night I knew I was in for trouble. I arrived home from a meeting at 10pm, to see two taxis’s waiting outside the next apartment entrance, and young adults streaming out of the apartment block laughing and joking, obviously going to a night club.
At 3am in the morning they returned, and their party continued in an adjacent apartment, loud talking and shouting, laughter and banging of doors and furniture.
Other residents were obviously being disturbed to, as I heard knocking on floors and walls, loud enough to make me think someone was knocking on my front door.
The noise continued until 7:45am, when all went quiet, and I went back to sleep, only to be awoken by a telephone call half an hour later to inform me by a recorded voice that “Congratulations, you have won a prize…..“. I did not stop to listen, but switched the phone off and placed it under my pillow.
My sleep had been disturbed now and I got up.
Oh for a good nights sleep.
Perhaps I should go and find a desert island somewhere.
But then I expect a flock of seagulls would wake me up as soon as it became light, signalling each other it was time to get their early morning food.
It is now 1:30 pm in the afternoon, and the revellers have just woken-up, and shouting and laughing has started again.
So afternoon nap for me then.

Sleepy Phillip

Categories
Rotary Club KOT Thoughts

I found a new friend Oakley

Last night at a concert featuring Kingston University Chamber Choir, Chorus and Ensemble entitled, Ancient and Modern, Innovation & Modern: c1656 – 3/5/2013, I made a new friend.

Composition Competition 2013
Rotary Composition Competition 2013
The concert had been organised at St. John’s Church, Hampton Wick, to present prizes to three winners of the Music Composition Competition at Kingston University, with prizes given by the Rotary Club of Kingston upon Thames.
I was asked as a Rotarian and member of the organising committee to take photographs of the event, and as an added advantage, I got to hear the concert, plus meet many people.
But I made one special friend, if only for a moment, Oakley.
Oakley is a Labrador guide dog for the blind, and his owner sat infront of me. He lay next to his owner, listening to the music in a deep slumber, as he was off duty.
Then he awoke, stretched, saw me and came and rested his head on my leg, looking me directly in my eyes with his big brown and black eyes.
Oakley my friend at ease
 Oakley my friend
I was in love. My heart went out to him, and in an instant I had made a friend, perhaps for a short time, but one of trust between the two of us.
Now the evening has gone, the music has stopped, the prizes given, I will probably never meet Oakley again, but that moment will stay with me forever.
We all have those special times when deep friendships are made, perhaps for a few moments, perhaps from a weeks holiday, perhaps over an acquaintance of ten years, perhaps over a near lifetime of togetherness, then we go our separate ways, but that special friendship can never be taken away, neither the memories or feelings can be erased, forever etched into our personality.
Thank you my friend for our brief time together.
Categories
Thoughts

Freeman of the City of London

It was an honour to be awarded the title of a Freeman of the City of London.

Although the privileges once afforded to those becoming a Freeman, being able to drive sheep not the City of London, being drunk without fear of arrest, and drawing a sword in public, have long gone, I felt proud on the special day.

 

Freeman of City of London March 2013
Freeman of City of London March 2013
Categories
Books Thoughts Travels

Discovering a Martian Fighting Machine

After my post about the book The Martians Are Coming, and with nothing to do the next afternoon, I jumped on a local train and visited the home town of H G Wells, a place called Woking, Surrey, England.

I endeavour where ever possible, not to take what I am told, given, or learn at face value, unlike the listeners of that radio play by Orson Welles broadcast in 1938 in the USA, which resulted in mass panic, where people thought Martians were invading Earth. I need to dig down, chunk down, to discover more facts, to understand the truth behind what I am being told, what I read, or what I am being fed.
And so it was, after a short journey I left the railway station in Woking. I had read that there was a Martian Fighting Machine described by H G Wells in his book The War Of The Worlds erected in the town center. I walked down a road deserted of shoppers and with not very inspiring shops, having really no idea of which direction to take, only presupposing that any artwork would perhaps be in the town center.
Hawker Hunter Woking
Hawker Hunter Woking
As I rounded a corner my eyes caught sight of a jet fighter mounted on a large metal pole. Why was it mounted in the center of Woking I could not find out from asking local people, only that once it had been a indoor showpiece of the nearby Big Apple family entertainment centre. One window cleaner I talked to, said he had worked and lived in the area for fifteen years and had no idea what it was all about. I have later found out that it is thought to be the very last Hawker Hunter ever built.
Then down the road from the corner of my eye, (thank you Phillip’s Sausage), I saw the Martian Fighting Machine.
Martian Fighting Machine Woking
Martian Fighting Machine Woking
Martian Fighting Machine Micheal Condron
Martian Fighting Machine Micheal Condron
With very little information about the sculpture I took my time viewing this work by Michael Condron. Smaller than I imagined, some 7m (23′) tall, the sculpture seemed to be in the wrong place to honour one of Woking’s greatest authors.
A quick tour of the shops and a cup of hot chocolate and I was back on a train home, not knowing much more than when I started my afternoon trip. But now a little seed has been planted to research why the Hawker Hunter has been placed outside a rather seedy looking Big Apple family entertainment centre.
Categories
Culture Rotary Club KOT Thoughts Travels

Fireworks in Kingston upon Thames 2012

Every year on 5th November, to celebrate Guy Fawkes Day, of as it is also known, Bonfire Night, the British people burn rubbish piled high, and on top of the bonfire, we will have a Guy, or a mannequin or dummy, which is the representation of Guy Fawkes.

During the evening when we light the bonfire we will let of lots of fireworks.
It is also tradition that the children will take the “Guy” into the streets, and ask passers-bye “A penny for the Guy“. As a boy, I would collect enough pennies to buy the fireworks for the night, and have great joy in firstly building the “Guy”, and then seeing him burn on the bonfire.
In 1605, a number of conspirators planned to assassinate the then King, James 1, to restore a Catholic monarch to the throne by blowing-up the House of Lords in the Palace of Westminster.
The Gunpowder plot was discovered, and the conspirators arrested. And, it is this that the British celebrate.
Due to health and safety, the population no-longer having gardens capable of having a bonfire, individual households or small groups getting together is now a rare occurrence to have a bonfire, but in Kingston upon Thames, the Rotary Club and Roundtable, get together and organise a large firework display. Along with the local radio station, Radio Jackie, who provide the commutation and music, the local Royal Borough also support the venture.
Amodest entrance fee is charged, and the many hundreds of people enjoy a superb evening of fireworks, and much money is raised to help the local community.
I have produced a small video of the evening, I hope you enjoy it.
Categories
Electronics Thoughts Travels

Synchronicity, Bletchley Park, History Unfolding

It was in the 1920’s that the Swiss psychologist Carl Gustav Jung first described the the terminology of synchronicity, saying that when two or more events occur together or are linked when there is no apparent reason for them to be linked at that time, things come together by what seems chance, this is synchronicity.

It was early one Sunday morning, the British clock system had been adjusted back to GMT (Greenwich Mean Time) that morning, that meant that my clock showed 7:30am, but my body said it was 8:30am, and I had nothing meaningful to do and wide awake.
As a Radio Ham (G8YJQ), I had heard of the RSGB (Radio Society of Great Britain) National Radio Centre based in Bletchley Park, the war-time home of secret code breaking and the birthplace of the first modern computer. I decided to visit the National Radio Centre.
I often like to revisit the basics, to start again to review, as if I knew nothing about a subject, as it reinforces the foundations of expertise, to pick-up knowledge missed along the way of learning a subject.
I joined a group of visitors, as toured the radio exhibition very quickly, leaving me in their wake as I read the documentation written about the displays, which they skipped over. The exhibition was quite small and a little disappointing to me, so I had finished my visit very quickly, even after a long conversation with a guide and another radio ham.
I decided to visit the rest of the Bletchley Park facility again as I had travelled a long way, to see if the model aircraft of the Italian aircraft (Savoia-Marchetti SM.79 Sparviero) I had donated, had been used in their exhibition, and no it had not been used, to revisit, to reinforce and relearn what I knew about the site and its’ history.
I joined another small group of people of many nationalities, and we met in the main house to hear the initial opening lecture about the code breakers, setting the scene for the tour. Even though I had heard this talk before, it had been with another guide, and he gave us information new to me. As we wondered around the site, new information was being imparted, especially about the decoding Bombe machines, I had never understood how they worked, I had a concept, but now after the guides talk, I was beginning to understand.
That reminded me of something I had learnt when I first started in the computer field in 1963, sometimes you don’t need to know how something works to use it.
We eventually visited the National Museum of Computing housed in buildings of part of Bletchley Park.
Here the guide explained about Tunny code breaking machines, or as it is also known, the German Lorenz SZ42 cipher-machines.
Two new “Ah Ha” moments came to me, that the cipher machines Enigma and the Lorenz used by the German’s to encrypt messages ran side by side in the Second World War, being two separate systems or methods of transmission of a message, one being morse code the other being teleprinter.
The second “Ah Ha” moment came as I realised that I had heard and read about Lorenz in two different contexts, one was for the equipment to encode messages I was viewing, and the other was for the beams of radio waves the German aircraft to fly along and used to locate targets to bomb in the UK during the war. Both the encrypting machine and the beams were made by the German manufacturer Lorenz, but people had when speaking about the systems, had truncated or missed off what Lorenz model they were talking about, just like saying it was a Ford, but what model Ford, was it a car, was it a transit van?
As we walked around listening and learning, a couple in our group were talking about papers and artefacts that had been left to them by the husband’s now deceased mother and father, and that some of the letters were now making sense, they now realised that they had been written to and by people who had worked in Bletchley Park. These people at Bletchley Park in the Second World War had been sworn to secrecy at to what they were working on, what they were doing or even where they were, many taking their secrets with them to their graves many decades later. I now regret not asking my now departed Uncle Frank about his work in the 2nd World War, because as I research more, I believe he may have had had some dealing with the Bletchley Code Breakers.
Also, the couple told me that they had in their possession, left by the father, many old thermionic valves and parts used by the Post Office in the UK who used to run the telephone service.
Passing on from the Tunny Gallery, we passed into the Colossus Gallery, showing a reconstructed decoding machine, the worlds first digital semi-programmable computer, designed and built by Tommy Flowers, a telephone engineer, who took standard telephone switching gear, thermionic valves and other bits and pieces, to build this worlds first computer of it’s type.
As we listened to our guide about how the British Government, after the finish of the 2nd World War, did not want the secret be known by other powers and especially the Russians of Colossus, and apart from two machines which were sent to the Secret Service’s headquarters at GCHQ, all other machines were destroyed, along with paperwork, designs and drawings.
Colossus Bletchley Park
Colossus Bletchley Park

It was only a few years ago that a group of enthusiasts led by Tony Sale, who gathered information from photographs, people who worked on the Colossus, and those you built and maintained them, that rebuilt what we can see today, a working Colossus which can decipher and work as the originals did, and does so for visitors to see today.

Colossus valves Bletchley Park
Colossus valves Bletchley Park

 

When our guide had finished his talk, the couple’s eyes were alive, as they had some parts, letters, paperwork, documents and some knowledge from the father, who they now realised had worked with Tommy Flowers on the original Colossus, and I urged them to go and speak to one of the guides who I knew had worked on the rebuild and was now sitting in a small office near to the working computer.
I think at first reluctantly the guide listened to them, but he became interested, as here was new knowledge being delivered, and so off they went to another area of the exhibition, only to return with a framed photograph of Tommy Flowers, and in that photograph was the father.
I was witnessing the discovery of new knowledge, the recovery of history.
Leaving Bletchley Park, and a almost two hour journey, I arrived home and settled down to a wonderful hot chilli con carne meal I had made, and switched on the TV. To my surprise the BBC were showing a Timewatch series, “Codebreakers: Bletchley Park’s Lost Heroes“, the story of code breaking and the Colossus, reinforcing what I had learned not a few hours earlier.
Synchronicity. If I had not been bored and decided to rekindle my Ham Radio interests, to visit the National Radio Centre, which happened to be at Bletchley Park, and if I had not continued to do another tour of the park, I would not have had those “Ah Ha” moments, seen many more things, and learnt so much more, meet the couple who had a direct connection to Colossus through the father and Tommy Flowers, then see the TV program.