RaNDomNESs and chAOs

something a little unexpected...

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 13:42:00 +0000

When I am doing fieldwork I often have the problem that because I am so busy looking into the distance at the bird I am observing I dont always pay enough attention to what my feet are doing. This has resulted in wet shoes several times now and once in slipping over on a washed up jellyfish (washed up jellyfish are extremely slippery). I have learnt to make full use of my peripheral vision and now everytime I see something out of the corner (or the bottom really) of my eye I look down to check what I am about to walk into. I saw something out of the corner (or bottom really) of my eye only the other day and when I looked down it gave me quite a start. This is what I saw.

Click to enlarge.

Something weird is going on....

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 08:53:00 +0000

Something funny has happened and the blog has gotten a little confused so my most recent post "Return to the Hundred Acre Wood" actually appears after my second most recent post "Say hello to my little friend" so just scroll down a little bit, have another look at the gorgeous cutiepies on your way past and you'll find my latest offering. Well, actually this is now my latest post, but you know what I mean.

Say hello to my little friend...

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 06:51:00 +0000

Return to the Hundred Acre Wood

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 05:14:00 +0000

Ok, so its time for another book review, faithful readers. This time the subject of my review will be "Return to the Hundred Acre Wood" by David Benedictus. Anybody who has had any sort of decent childhood will pick up on two things about this book straight away - firstly, that the Hundred Acre Wood is the setting for all of the Winnie the Pooh adventures and secondly, that the Winnie the Pooh books were written by A.A. Milne rather than by some random guy called David Benedictus.

I was given a copy of "Return to the Hundred Acre Wood" for my birthday only a few weeks after it was published. The world of Winnie the Pooh fans had apparently been waiting with baited breath for the first ever Winnie the Pooh sequel to be approved by the estate of A.A. Milne - I was not waiting with baited breath. I was blissfully unaware that there was such a book coming. Fortunately for me (and for you as you now get to read this delightful book review) my brother was not so ignorant.

I would like to say firstly that the amazing genius of A.A. Milne is an extremely hard act to follow and any man that is willing to put himself up for that kind of scrutiny is either very brave or an egotistical maniac. I am not sure with category David Benedictus belongs in.

It doesn't really matter. What matters is that, for me at any rate, he did not stand up to that scrutiny. Its like when you put Orlando Bloom with Johnny Depp in the Pirates movies. Yes, Orlando is reasonably good looking, yes he gets a couple of good lines, yes he gets an interesting character, but put him on a screen with Johnny Depp and no one is looking at the girly-boy eunuch (sorry Captain Sparrow added that last bit, not me). Its really not fair on poor old Orlando, or in this case Benedictus.

I'm going to break it down into 3 vital parts of a Winnie the Pooh adventures for you:
1. Characters.
Benedictus did manage to keep the charm of the original characters, BUT then he did the absolutely unthinkable - he added a NEW character. A NEW character! Now, this isn't without precedent as Gopher (a regular in the Disney Winnie the Pooh) is not in the original books, but just because someone else has committed the sacrilege too, doesn't mean that it is right. I actually quite like both Gopher and Lottie (the Benedictus character), but they are rather unnecessary and, when it comes to my A.A. Milne, I am a purist.

Gopher

Lottie

2. Storylines.
Again, here Benedictus falls short of my exacting standards. Roughly half the book had quite good storylines (each chapter is a separate story) and the other half didn't.
3. Hums and Poems.
An absolutely vital part of the works by A.A. Milne are the poems and hums that Pooh writes and hums at unsuspecting visitors (usually Piglet, but often also Eeyore). I will give you a sample of one of the least brilliant of A.A. Milne's hums followed by the best of Benedictus' hums and you can see for yourself.

Hunny
It's very, very funny,
'Cos I know I had some honey :
'Cos it had a label on, Saying HUNNY,
A goloptious full-up pot too,
And I don't know where it's got to,
No, I don't know where it's gone--
Well, it's funny.
- A.A. Milne.

Counting Honey
If you want to count your honey,
You must put it in a row,
In the sun if it is sunny,
If it’s snowy in the snow.

And you’ll know when you have counted
How much honey you have got.
Yes, you’ll know what the amount is
- David Benedictus

Now for comparison, see one of AA Milne's better hums

An Anxious Pooh Song

3 Cheers for Pooh!

(For who?)
For Pooh -
(Why, what did he do?)
I thought you knew;
He saved his friend from a wetting!
3 Cheers for Bear!
(For where?)
For Bear -
He couldn't swim,
But he rescued him!
(He rescued who?)
Oh, listen, do!
I am talking of Pooh!
(Of who?)
Of Pooh!
(I'm sorry, I keep forgetting).
Well, Pooh was a Bear of Enormous Brain
(Just say it again!)
Of enormous brain -
(Of enormous what?)
Well, he ate a lot,
And I don't know if he could swim or not,
But he managed to float
On a sort of boat
(On a sort of what?)
Well, a sort of pot -
So now let's give three hearty cheers!
(So now let's give him three hearty whiches?)
And hope he'll be with us for years and years,
And grow in health and wisdom and riches!
3 Cheers for Pooh!
(For who?)
For Pooh -
3 Cheers for Bear
(For where?)
For Bear -
3 Cheers for the wonderful Winnie-the-Pooh!
(Just tell me, somebody - WHAT DID HE DO?)

See the difference?

Now a note on the illustrations.
In the original Pooh adventures, the illustrations were handled by E.H. Shepard and looked like this:
In "Return to the Hundred Acre Wood" Mark Burgess did the illustrations. I have no problem with the new illustrations and think he did a good job. They look like this:

Now, to wrap it all up there are a couple of things I need to say.
Firstly, thank-you, Rob, for giving me the book (check out the comma usage in the first half of that sentences - pretty spectacular). Being harsh on the book does not mean that I don't appreciate it - I'm quite glad that I got the chance to pick it apart like this.

Secondly, I would like to mention the fact that I read the book with a positive attitude - rather than starting with a dim view of the book and only finding proof that I was right, I was actually quite predisposed to like the book and it caught me a bit by surprise when I found that I didn't.

Thirdly, should you read the book? Yes, of course you should. Just because I am a picky purist with Pooh stories (lovely alliteration) doesn't mean that you should be guided by my feelings towards the book and decide to not read it on principle. BUT before you do read it (or at least straight afterwards) get your hands on a copy of the A.A. Milne works and refresh your memory of what a real Pooh adventure is like. Don't forget that the very best way to read Winnie the Pooh is chapter by chapter as a bedtime story out loud (you can read out loud to yourself, but it is probably more fun if you are reading to someone else. I personally have issues with reading Winnie the Pooh out loud because there are a couple of points in the books where I LOL and occasionally even ROFL so whoever I'm reading to has to patiently wait for me to regain my composure and continue with the story.)

All in all, the book gets three stars ***
- an extra one just because it is a Winnie the Pooh. It only really deserved two.

oh my stars...

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 00:40:00 +0000

So, I dont know why, but I have been feeling more than a little out of sorts for the last couple of days. Not at all like myself really, and very hard to describe whats wrong with me. Usually when I'm feeling this out of sorts there is a definable reason for it - looming exams, some niggling little concern thats been eating away at me, or something I'm feeling guilty over, but this time I cant find anything.

Well, my mood today hasnt been at all helped by having a song that I had only heard once a couple of nights ago stuck in my head. I had the tv on in the other room (lounge room, kitchen type area) while I was at my desk on Monday night half-listening to the season final of Good News Week. I tend to only watch small amounts of GNW at a time because its usually hilariously funny, but also quite unnecessarily crude. Anyway, on Monday night Paul McDermott sang this amazingly beautiful song about (if I'm interpreting the lyrics correctly) "boat people" and it got itself seriously wedged in my brain and hasnt stopped looping through my internal soundtrack since. I was more than a little pleased to find that the song, 'Oh my stars!', had the same effect on a large proportion of GNW viewers that night and, therefore, was all over the net and quite easy to download. I have now listened to it 5 times in a row so it should be out of my system soon ready to lay unplayed and forgotten in the dark corners of my mp3 files until I get bored of my usual selection of tunes and re-discover it.

Here's the video of the song on GNW for anyone that is too sensible to watch it. By the way, I was quite surprised that Paul sang a song so sympathetic (wow, look at that accidental alliteration) to the "boat people" after spending a decent amount of the show bagging them, but apparently he is quite capable of viciously bagging someone in one breath and singing this kind of ballad about them in the next. Enjoy.

The Twits

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 05:05:00 +0000

Illustration of the Twits by Quentin Blake

The Twits is a classic children's book written by Roald Dahl in 1980. In true Dahl style, epic grossness is employed to keep his audience interested. In this particular book, however, the grossness serves a dual purpose: to entertain the kiddies, but also as a means of having a bit of a rant about one of his pet peeves - beards. Tiani and I were reading Fantastic Mr Fox and The Twits to each other last night and I thought that this particular excerpt was worth putting up on the blog. There is more, of course, but if you want more you should just read the book.

"What a lot of hairy-faced men there are around nowadays.

When a man grows hair all over his face it is impossible to tell what he really looks like.

Perhaps that’s why he does it. He’d rather you didn’t know.

Then there’s the problem of washing.

When the very hairy ones wash their faces, it must be a big a job as when you and I wash the hair on our heads.

So what I want to know is this. How often do all these hairy-faced men wash their faces? Is it only once a week, like us, on Sunday nights? And do they shampoo it? Do they use a hairdryer? Do they rub hair-tonic in to stop their faces from going bald? Do they go to a barber to have their hairy faces cut and trimmed or do they do it themselves in front of the bathroom mirror with nail-scissors?

I don’t know. But next time you see a man with a hairy face (which will probably be as soon as you step out on to the street) maybe you will look at him more closely and start wondering about some of these things.

Mr Twit was one of these very hairy-faced men. The whole of his face except for his forehead, his eyes and his nose was covered with thick hair. The stuff even sprouted in revolting tufts out of his nostrils and ear-holes.

Mr Twit felt that this hairiness made him look terrifically wise and grand. But in truth he was neither of these things. Mr Twit was a twit. He was born a twit. And now at the age of sixty, he was a bigger twit than ever.

The hair on Mr Twit’s face didn’t grow smooth and matted as it does on most hairy-faced men. It grew in spikes that stuck out straight like the bristles of a nailbrush.

And how often did Mr Twit wash this bristly nailbrushy face of his?

The answer is NEVER, not even on Sundays.

He hadn’t washed it for years.

As you know, an ordinary unhairy face like yours or mine simply gets a bit smudgy if it is not washed often enough, and there’s nothing so awful about that.

But a hairy face is a very different matter. Things cling to hairs, especially food. Things like gravy go right in among the hairs and stay there. You and I can wipe out smooth faces with a flannel and we quickly look more or less alright again, but the hairy man cannot do that.

We can also, if we are careful, eat our meals without spreading food all over our faces. But not so the hairy man. Watch carefully next time you see a hairy man eating his lunch and you will notice that even if he opens his mouth very wide, it is impossible for him to get a spoonful of beef-stew or ice-cream and chocolate sauce into it without leaving some of it on the hairs..."

Then the grossness begins as Dahl begins to describe the foulness of Mr Twit's beard, but this post is already a bit long, so if you want to find out what was in Mr Twit's beard you need to read it for yourself.

3 weeks of birthdays

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 07:03:00 +0000

My actual birthday was not really a social event (the most exciting things that happened on the day were meeting up with one of my friends for coffee and stubbing my toe on my couch), but I made the most of the fact that neither my friends (who had exams) nor my family (who had to work) could celebrate with me for my actual birthday and dragged it out for as long as possible, celebrating both before the day and after it. - wow, that was a long sentence - I think I have finally finished my birthday (now time to start Christmas, I guess) so I'll tell you about what I actually did.

Firstly, I celebrated with my family by heading north for the weekend closest to my birthday and claiming the Monday (it was a long weekend in Northern Tas) to be my birthday. I hung out with my family, was sung to, had cake, and opened presents. I got awesome presents. Especially, a particularly exquisite Murano glass fish to add to my collection (yes, three counts as a collection) and a new watch which I love and adore. Tuesday morning on my way back to Hobart, my birthday was extended by a shopping spree in Launceston with Mum to find a dress to wear to Government House last week (yes, I went to Government House again. If you want to know about that ask me in the comments and I will tell you about it).

On Tuesday night, I got a phonecall from Bec, Mike, and Gabi to wish me happy birthday because Gabi would be away at camp the next day.

The Wednesday was my birthday. I was still in bed contemplating getting up and waiting for the snoozed alarm clock to go off again (somewhere between 7:00 and 7:30) when Grandma called to wish me happy birthday. I got a couple of messages during the day and some cards in the mail. Two of my friends that I actually talked to during the day (one I saw face to face and the other I talked to on the net) both forgot it was my birthday. I forgave them both as one was in the middle of exams and the other one was leaving the country that evening and were both understandably distracted. I did, however, get to meet up with one friend that remembered it was my birthday and gave me a gigantic box of chocolates. And then I stubbed my toe on my couch.

On Thursday I got a phonecall from my Mt Isa relations and had a lovely gossip to Aunty Liz.

On Sunday I got a birthday cake at the Pilgrims and my birthday present from my brother which he had sent down with a friend that was traveling from his end of the state to mine. As I opened the huge box, the group of people standing around me got bigger as everyone wanted to see what was going to come out of the box next and read the notes that went with it (if you dont already know what was in the box and you want to find out, ask me in the comments and I might get around to telling you).

Then, the real main event came on Saturday, ten days after my birthday, when I had two birthday parties. I wanted to play another "How to Host a Murder" because I love them so much, but I also wanted to hang out and mess around with a wider group of my friends and play volley ball so I decided to do both. After a few mishaps in the beginining stages of party planning, everything got sorted out and we had a BBQ at wentworth park at lunch time and the murder in the evening. I dont have any photos of the BBQ yet because my trusty photographers have yet to share them with me. But I'll put them up in a seperate post when I get them. A decent percentage of my friends couldnt come in the end, but the those of us that were there had a really great time (well, I did anyway, and nobody has said that they didnt). We were having so much fun that we didnt leave the BBQ until 4:00 and then had to get ourselves (the 8 of us that were involved) organised for the murder.

The murder we played this time was "The class of '54" and we were 8 graduates from Roley City High on our 5th High School reunion (yes, it was set in 1959). I wont tell you too much about the plot so as not to spoil it incase you ever play it, but suffice to say it was a lot of fun and I recommend playing it. We all did a magnificent job of our costumes, without actually going to much trouble at all and dont we look wonderful?

Click on the photo to enlarge it

Back Row: The Certified Genius (Andrew), the Seducer (Tiani), the Heiress (me), the Business man (Rob), the Rock & Roller (Rob)
Front Row: The Cheerleader (Joy), the Academic (Hannah), and the Athlete (Moose)

Anyhow, thats about enough for now, I think. As I said, I'll put some photos up when I get them.

Happy Birthday to me, and many happy returns!

Google

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 03:56:00 +0000

I love todays Google!!!

Old fashioned lolly shops...

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 04:57:00 +0000

Who doesn't like walking into an old fashioned lolly shop and surveying the gleaming jars filled with acid drops, chocolate frogs, and multi-coloured candies of every sort? As far as I am concerned, the more old-fashioned the candy shop, the better.

Due to circumstances beyond my control, I was unable to listen the audio book I had chosen for my latest trip back down the midlands after visiting my family and instead decided to listen to an old favourite by James Herriot. Those of you who do not know the joys of reading (or listen to someone else read) James Herriot have had very deprived upbringings and should rectify the situation immediately. Especially if you are interested in animals. Anyway, Dr Herriot, like myself, has a fondness for old-fashioned lolly shops, and as I was driving down the northern part of the midlands and into Campbell Town I was listening to him describe one such shop in Darrowby (and the cat that resided there). I couldnt resist taking a break from driving in Campbell Town to stop at the old-fashioned lolly shop and survey the gleaming lolly jars. Unfortunately they didnt have any Edinburgh rock (or a resident feline), so I got a small bag of 'fizzoes' and happily continued on my drive.

Pied Oystercatcher chick

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 08:55:00 +0000

Today, I once again headed up to Orford to sit on a beach and watch birds. This time, though, my friend, Rob, decided to come with me and help me sit on a beach and watch birds. We spent all day watching the birds, but the last pair of Hooded Plovers we observed were particularly boring and spent the entire 30 minutes sitting amongst the twigs and debris covering the upper beach. When we packed up our stuff and headed out we closely examined the area the pair were inhabiting incase it was a nest, but were greatly surprised when we found this (well, I should say, when Rob found this) -

No, this isnt a plover chick. It is about 4 times too big for a plover chick. It is a baby Pied Oystercatcher. We had noticed that there was a Pied Oystercatcher sitting very close to the Hooded plovers, but we hadnt paid very much attention to it. Now we know why it was sitting there. We quickly grabbed a couple of photos and then carefully retreated and hid until the adult came back from wherever it had disappeared to when we approached.

Isnt it cute :)

less than optimal

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 00:27:00 +0000

My mobile phone is dying a slow, painful death.

It all started a few weeks ago, when, for no apparent reason, the screen started 'blinking' when I was texting. I should tell those of you that don't already know that my phone looks like this:
except pink. Its a nokia 6085.

After a while the 'blinking' got so annoying that I googled something like "nokia flip phone screen blinking" fully expecting not to get any results, but just to make sure that someone hadn't written something somewhere to tell you how to fix it. They hadn't.

What I did find, however, was pages and pages of people whose phones had done exactly the same thing and then, shortly afterward, the screens had given up completely. The phone still functioned fine assuming you were blind and, therefore, didn't need a screen. For someone like me, though, whose phone is really just a device for texting (and occasionally calling my parents) a screenless phone would be, shall we say, less than optimal.

Field work...

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 07:52:00 +0000

Today, I started my field work for my honours project. Basically, I spent the afternoon sitting on a beach in Orford, soaking up the sunshine and watching birds. Not a bad way to spend a day. Especially considering that a good proportion of my friends are madly studying for exams at the moment.

Lets play a game of spot the bird...

Here's a nice easy one to get you started.

A tad harder, but still quite easy (this is a Red-capped plover, by the way).

This is what I spent my whole day doing - "I know its around here somewhere. Where'd the birdy go?"- Yes, there is a bird in this photo (its a Hooded plover). Every time I put down the binoculars to fill in my data sheet I'd look back up and then have to find the birdy all over again.

As you can see, I would benefit greatly from a photographer and a camera with a nice big zoom, because these little guys are a little camera shy (must be related to Jeff - he is still happily swimming around, by the way).

Anyway, just wanted to show off that I got to spend all day on a beach and you didnt.

"Not to be infantile, but I believe the correct phrase is 'Na, na'" I have no idea where that quote is from, but its locked away in my memory storage and seemed appropriate.

Seriously.

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 00:58:00 +0000

OK, so here is something that you are not going to believe. You are going to read it here and then go "No way!" and then google it and check it out on some sites that you actually trust to tell you the truth. Thats exactly what I did, too.

Pauley Perrette who plays the role of Abby on NCIS just turned 40!! Seriously. She was born in 1969!

The accused...

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 10:28:00 +0000

As you all know, whenever the opportunity presents itself I like to pretend that I am cultured and sophisticated and attend the theatre. Usually, Tiani and I go to see PLoT productions at uni, but occasionally we are even more cultured and sophisticated and attend grown-up theatre. On Tuesday evening, we did just that.

The Hobart Repertory Theatre Society were doing a production of the Jeffrey Archer play The Accused. The play is set in the Old Bailey courthouse in London and is presented as a murder trial with the audience acting as the jury. The only characters are the judge, a couple of court officials, the defendant, a policeman, and a few witnesses. The audience is greeted as the jury and briefed on how the case will run by one of the court officials and then as the judge enters the court room everybody stands (God save the Queen) and then sits when signaled. The case runs for three days (3 acts) so this process is repeated at the beginning of each act. It was so much fun to be interactively involved right from the beginning of the play. At the end of the case the jury, of course, gets to decide if the defendant was guilty of murdering his wife and the audience holds up guilty/not guilty cards to determine the verdict. There are two endings to the play depending on the verdict given by the audience. We, of course, only got to see one of the endings and I would love to know what the alternative ending was like.

Here is my review:
Acting - good (not perfect, but good).
Sets - very good
Costumes - very good
Casting - very good (except that I dont like the actor that played the defendant, but it didnt matter because he killed his wife so you're not really meant to like him).
Overall - loved it! Well worth going to see.

**** four stars

Jeff

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 06:50:00 +0000

So, you all know my goldfish, Jeff. Jeff is the huge and rather elderly goldfish that dominates my fish tank (and has a habit of going to sleep - hence his name). The above photograph was taken 3 years ago. I'm not sure exactly how long I have had Jeff, but it has been at least 5 years.

This morning I was saying hello to Jeff when I noticed something odd - a bump. These photos were taken today. See the bump on his side. Its located approximately halfway between his eye and dorsal fin. You can see it much better in the second photo.

Do you know how hard it is to get a good photo of my fish? Jeff is camera shy to say the least.

I don't like the look of his bump at all, I think its a tumour. I watched him for quite a while today and he is still moving easily, eating, and interested in life in general so I'm not going to do anything at the moment. Considering some of the things that Jeff has survived in the past, I wouldn't give up on him just yet.

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 01:50:00 +0000

This is exactly how I felt when I saw a car parked like this at uni today. I take comfort in the thought that there are only a few weeks left until the undergrads disappear for the summer and parking will become less tortuous (and in the fact that after circling around I ended up with a much better parking space closer to the zoology building).

Thanks xkcd.com for this comic. And for the awesome caption "Police report three dozen cheerful bystanders yet no one claims to have seen who did it." No thanks to my so-called friends that like to get me hooked on webcomics and waste all my time reading them when I should be working.

Your vote can make a difference...

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 07:19:00 +0000

Well, you might wonder what I've been doing lately as I havent been posting as much. The reason for this is that I have been sick so there hasnt been much to say. The only reason I'm saying anything now is that I'm bored. Being sick is prodigiously boring.

I have been well looked after by some of my friends while I've been unwell. The ladies who live in the flats adjoining mine (now affectionately referred to as the "Smoking Committee" due to their habit of spending most of their day sitting on the retaining wall and gossiping while they smoke) have all been very nice to me. I have been given food and lent DVDs to fill in time while I didnt have the energy to do anything more productive, and diligently checked up on everyday. I have also been daily checked up on by another of my friends and have been brought food by them, too. Its nice to know that there are people around me who are willing to look after me when my Mummy cant be around to do it. I think I'm starting to recover but my brain still feels like porridge and I'm completely exhausted after a big day at uni yesterday (the first time I went to my office in a week) so I still need a little looking after.

Anywho, enough of that boring stuff - onwards and upwards to the far more exciting topic of my birthday. It is now a month until my birthday (yes, I know a month is quite a long time, but you have to remember that I have been at home sick for a week so I have had plenty of time to sit around and think about my birthday) and I want to start planing a party. So, I need you all to comment and vote on what I should do - an awesome costume party OR a BBQ (where everyone is invited) followed by a murder mystery party (only 8 players). I know that a few of my friends will be doing exams over my birthday so my party will be postponed slightly to accommodate them (you should feel honoured because there are only a couple of you left at uni now and I'm still willing to arrange everything around you. You're welcome.).

I have added a poll so you can vote just under the picture of Jeff on the right of the screen. So vote. Now.

Go on, vote!

Prison Break

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 03:55:00 +0000

Check out this news story from Yahoo!7 News. Full story can be found here.

"Forget the knotted bed sheets or tunnel. A New York prisoner has come up with a much easier way to bust out of jail: ask guards for the exit.

The inmate, who was wearing a suit and tie for a court appearance on charges of multiple store robberies, simply wandered out an open door and into a courtroom Wednesday, the New York Post reported.

There, a court officer mistook jailbird Ronald Tackman for a lawyer, asking: "Counsellor, what are you doing here?" the Daily News reported.

Tackman didn't miss a beat, the Post said, asking: "Which way is out?"

The hapless guard then showed the escapee the way to the lobby.

Next the daring jailbird went to his 81-year-old mother's Manhattan home to change clothes, and left, she told the Post.

"I thought he was discharged. He was all dressed up," she said.

Court officers' embarrassment only increased when it was revealed that Tackman, 55, was a known master of disguise, the tabloids said."

The cutest thing...

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 05:57:00 +0000

Ok, so you all remember that shorebird conference I went to a couple of weeks ago? Well, what I didn't tell you at the time was that there were a couple of things mentioned in the talks that were bugging me because I didn't have enough background knowledge of shorebirds to understand them. One of them was why they always count shorebird populations as the number of breeding pairs when quite a decent percentage of the birds are non-breeders (and as a non-breeder myself I take offence at the suggestion that we are not as important as the breeders). I still don't have the answer to that one, but as to the other question that was bugging me so much, I stumbled over the answer to it quite by accident when I was reading a reference about something else.

It is a very important fact in shorebird biology that most beach nesting birds get very easily disturbed by people and dogs walking past them and will leave the nest whenever such disturbances come too close. When the birds are meant to be looking after the eggs, but spend most of their time running away from big scary things it results in problems (as in, the eggs never hatch). But, if you think about it logically, it doesn't make sense:

Shorebirds nest in summer
Summer is hot
Shorebirds nest directly on the sand
Sand in summer is very, very hot
A bird sitting on the eggs will only make them hotter
Hot eggs cook

So I kept wondering how the birds manage to keep their eggs in the right temperature zone so that they would be warm enough to develop, but not hot enough to cook. All I could come up with in answer is that they stand over the eggs and shade them, but I couldn't convince myself that shading by itself would be enough to cool the eggs.

Hooded Plover parentals standing over nest

Another Hooded Plover nest with 3 eggs

Turns out I was right. Birds do shade their eggs, but it isn't all they do- they do this amazingly cute thing called "belly-soaking"

"Belly-soaking" is when a parent bird notices that the eggs are too hot, runs from the nest into the water up to its belly, gets its tummy feathers all wet, runs back to the nest, and puts its now cold and wet tummy on the eggs. During hot days the birds do it almost constantly so its very time consuming and energetically expensive for them, but its also very effective. And cute. So very, very cute. I was rapt when I found that the answer to the question that had been bugging me was so simple and so cute. Now I love my birdies even more :)

Hooded plover chicks in nest

The highest room in the tallest tower...

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 01:19:00 +0000

Here I sit alone at my desk, sequestered away from the rest of the world. Able to gaze out at the world through my window, but not free to roam through it. Able to see the wind dancing with the trees, but not to feel it.

Who will rescue me? Who is there in the land that is brave enough to climb the mountain, fight their way through the labyrinth-like hallways and laboratories filled with ghoulish undergrads to make it to the highest room in the tallest tower. Who, after completing these perilous deeds will have the fortitude to continue in their quest and pass the den of the feared supervisor guarding the doorway and keeping me captive with work?

Is there none among you who will take pity on the captive princess and rescue her?

The stolen weekend.

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 01:57:00 +0000

Most of you have already patiently listened as I blabbed to you about my weekend, but for those of you who haven't yet (and those of you who are gluttons for punishment) here is a short summary.

I spent the weekend at the Australasian Shorebird Conference with all of the most important shorebird researchers in Australia and New Zealand (and a few from Asia). The point of going to the conference was to network within the bird community and to gain a broader understanding of the current shorebird research. The conference was run in the normal way of a scientific conference - a series of short (15 min) talks from various scientists with 5 min for questions in between.

Here are the key things that I learnt:

(1). It is really weird meeting people that you have referenced. A number of times I was quietly thinking to myself that a speakers name seemed familiar only to realise part-way through the talk that I had referenced them in my lit review - Finn (2006) suddenly stops being just an abstract idea in your head and suddenly turns into a real person standing in front of you.

(2). Bird people are all a little bit strange, but are quite nice despite this.

(3). People tend to focus in on one particular problem (eg shorebird conservation) and think that the entire population of the world should care about it as much as they do without taking into consideration the fact that it is not possible to care that much about everything that everyone thinks we should care about.

(4). I now know the Auslan signs for "bird", "chick", "migrate", "dog", and a few other things (we had interpreters at all the talks because one of the scientists is deaf). I really like the sign for "dog" - you slap your thigh twice as if you were calling your dog over to you.

(5). Honours supervisors can be useful. My supervisor was really great all weekend and made sure that I was introduced to all the right people and had an opportunity to network with them.

(6). Having to be at a conference 8:30-5:00 everyday of the weekend after a full week of being at uni (plus the conference dinner 6:00-10:00 on Sat) and then having to be at uni for the OH&S/first aid course 8:30-5:30 Monday and Tuesday can make you a little irritable on Wednesday.

(7). After seeing all the awesome photos of shorebirds I have found my inspiration to start painting again.

Anyway, that's it. See ya later.

Waiting....

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 05:51:00 +0000

So, I handed in the first draft of my literature review to both my supervisors almost a week ago and I'm patiently waiting to hear back from them. One of my supervisors is notoriously unreliable and the other is frantically busy in organising the conference that I'm going to this weekend (more on that in a moment), so I'm not holding my breath that I will get feedback anytime soon. I'm not sure I want feedback - I'm a little concerned that it might be a bit too much like this:

Its not that I haven't tried to do a good job of it, its just that there was no real guidelines or structure to follow. I perform much better within a rigid structure than when its all so wishy-washy. Welcome, to the real world, I guess. If you can call Honours the real world (which you probably cant).

Lit reviews are a very strange thing - they usually relate to your thesis topic in some way, but are not quite the same (mine relates less than I would like it to, but it was my supervisor's choice) and while they are bound into the back of your thesis they aren't actually a part of it. Also, you have to hand in an acceptable lit review by the due date (a few weeks away) but you don't actually get marked on it - its just either acceptable and you go on with honours or it isn't and you don't.

On to the conference. Well, I have been pretty bored most of the week and haven't really done anything except feel guilty for not doing anything, but there isn't much I can do until I hear from my supervisors. I haven't been feeling quite as guilty, though, because I am devoting my entire weekend to a conference. It just so happens that the Australasian Wader Studies Group yearly conference is being held in Hobart this year and being hosted by one of my supervisors at Birds Tasmania so it has been strongly recommended that I attend. Tomorrow is an 'invitation only' coastal management workshop which I have been invited to and Sat and Sun are the actual conference. I am meant to be there at 8:30 on Sunday morning - I'm usually only just getting out of bed at that time on a Sunday morning. It should be quite an interesting conference, though, so I don't mind too much. At least it something to do.

Oh, and just a quick note about "Arctic Blast" - has anyone heard about a competition the Mercury is supposedly running to win an on-set visit, a spot as an extra, and a meeting with Michael Shanks? I havent been able to find out anything about it (yes, I have thought of looking on the Mercury website). I heard that the competition closes this weekend, though.

Arctic Blast update

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 23:06:00 +0000

Hampton Road in the city is closed this morning for filming. If you dont have anything better to do this morning, head on down there and check it out (dont forget to take some photos for me).

I am now also able to confirm that, yes, they will be using the Goodwood studios for some of the filming.

The official government media release on the project has details of someone to call to arrange "on-set visits and interviews with key cast and crew" - does that mean that if I ask nicely I might get to go and hang out at the shoot? Check it out here.

Keep your eyes peeled for "random" sightings of Michael.

"Arctic Blast"

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 07:22:00 +0000

Michael Shanks, an actor made famous by his role in Stargate SG1 as Daniel Jackson, is currently in Hobart!!! Yes, I mean Hobart, Tasmania! A real, live, famous person is in Hobart!!

He is currently here to film "Arctic Blast", a Sci Fi with a similar storyline to that of "The Day After Tomorrow." He is rumoured to be shooting a scene in Salamanca, but I cant find out exactly when he is going to be where (surprise, surprise he doesn't want to be mobbed by geeky SG1 fans. Yes, I do realise that I just called myself a geek.).

While this isn't as cool as if it were Jason Momoa (Ronan Dex) or Christopher Judge (Teal'c), its still pretty awesome. So, Hobartians, make sure you keep your eyes peeled while you are around the city for the next few weeks, and if you do happen to run into Michael make sure you grab a couple of autographs.

Ode to a fork...

noreply@blogger.com (Emma) — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 03:55:00 +0000

Forks are a very important invention when one is trying to obey the social norms of a civilised society. I expect that if I lived the life of a hermit I would find that, will forks are useful, they are not of critical importance. However, as I do not live the life of a hermit (most days) this is a rather irrelevant observation.

Today, I lost my fork. I'm sure I put a fork in my bag with my lunch, but when I got my lunch out of my bag the fork was no where to be seen. While this would be an intriguing mystery it would not have presented a problem if I had been eating a sandwich for lunch, but as it was pasta in a rather messy tomato sauce that was on the menu it was a slight issue.

Being forkless, I had to try to find a fork or a similarly efficient means of conveying food to my mouth, such as a spoon. I went downstairs to the staff tea room to heat my pasta in the microwave and hunt out a fork. The staff room is a very interesting place in the school of zoology. As the zoology building is built against the incline of a rather steep hill, some parts of the building have more floors than other parts. In fact, level 4 (the second highest level in the building) actually becomes ground level at the highest point of the hill. Technically, the floor where the tea room is located is level 1, but there is a second level 1 on the other side of the building and they don't meet up, and half of level 1 is actually underground. Even though the only truly important thing on level 1 is the tea room, it is technically the main entrance to the building. Most undergrads, however, live in complete ignorance that level 1 even exists, which, I think, is exactly the way the staff like it.

Approximately 95% percent of the time, the tea room exists in a lonely state of complete unoccupation. However, between the hours of 11:00am and 11:20am Monday-Friday it becomes a hive of activity crowded with recently re-caffeinated academics. On Wednesdays, affectionately termed "cake-days" by said academics, the room is packed to overflowing as everyone crowds around to get their slice of cake. If you want to take a popular piece of equipment or vehicle out into the field to do research, the best time to do it is a Wednesday morning as no-one else will be using it. They will all be at "cake-day".

Enough about the tearoom, back to the hunt for the fork. The first place I looked was in the cutlery drawer, which I deemed to be a sensible place for the storage of surplus forks. However, the cutlery drawer contained neither forks nor spoons, but merely a motley arrangement of knives. I surmise that this intriguing observation might arise from the propensity for staff here in the school of zoology to "borrow" a fork or a spoon with which to eat the lunch that they have heated up in the microwave, go up to their office so they can eat their lunch while watching clips on you-tube, and never return the fork or spoon to the tearoom because that would require walking back through the rabbit-warren of corridors and traversing at least one, but in most cases two or three, flights of stairs. Knives, on the other hand, are rarely needed and, therefore, do not get stolen (sorry, "borrowed") on a very regular basis.

After some more hunting, I eventually found a fork standing in a coffee mug and was able to eat my lunch while obeying the social rules of civilized society.

But I still don't know what happened to my fork.