Seriously single

A few days ago, I ranted over single person households being described as "family", in a rather non-discriminating use of the term "family": Redefining the Family.

I was therefore interested to read this post about being Seriously Single, and the original post of the same title from which it took its cue.

One of the points I noted from the first of these posts is the idea that, if you are living a single life, you should not try to live it as a kind of scaled down family life. Or, in practical terms, set up your house to suit yourself, or at least to fit in with your lifestyle. It's OK not to have a television if you don't watch television; and its OK to only have in the cupboards the food that you actually like!

Another interesting thought was that contained in the quotations from the Catechism of the Catholic Church, cited in both posts. This thought was the one that families could show a welcome and hospitality towards single people - a ministry of hospitality, if you like. By implication, singles could show a ministry of hospitality and accompaniment towards each other, sharing holidays and days out. Of course, what never quite works is a special "singles club" ... This kind of hospitality/fellowship needs to be spontaneous and, one might say, in the best sense, charismatic.

Being single, though, does have its amusing, or perhaps ironic, moments. 

Like having Hero choosing the fleece you buy in the sales on Kensington High  Street. Or carefully trying to negotiate whether to go to Points of View at the British Library, or on religious picture trail at the National Gallery/National Portrait Gallery .... and after goint to Points of View (and being disappointed by it, as it wasn't at all what either of us had expected), because you thought that was "first" on the other person's list .... you realise that it was the religious picture trail that was really what the other person wanted to do. Now, what happened to those communication skills ....

Are you sitting comfortably? (Or, a story about the meaning of life)

One Saturday night, a physics teacher, another physics teacher, an English teacher (well, advisory teacher, which just about counts) and a midwife went to London.

They started from Newbury Park Station on the Central Line, where a serious discussion was held about midwife's parking. Herewith a previous example:

On the way, they realised they had time to tour the West End before dining, so visited Trafalgar Square to see One and Other: where this lady had just been deposited atop the fourth plinth. She can be seen here being admired by, from left to right, midwife, physics teacher (2) and English teacher (advisory):



There was a game of chess, complete with erudite commentary, under way in the square: The Tournament, a centre piece of the London Design Festival.


Midwife then requested a visit to Seven Dials, an area of London just north of Covent Garden. As you will realise from the map getting in to Seven Dials is easy, but if you are stood at the Seven Dials itself, with its different choice of directions to take, and one direction only being the one you want to take, and having lost your orientation from the road on which you arrived, all the roads look the same .....



It was then on to 2 Greek Street, just off Soho Square: to a restaurant called The Gay Hussar. This had been the suggestion of English teacher (advisory), attracted by the restaurant's reputation as the haunt of sundry politicians whose caricature portraits decorate the walls. This was, of course, the ideal place to discuss the future of the world and such like matters.

Physics teacher (2) and midwife

English teacher (advisory) and physics teacher (1)

Over dessert, a book was produced and the following problem posed by midwife and English teacher (advisory), who appeared to have been in deliberate collusion.

As a participant in a game show, you are given a choice of three doors to open. Behind two of the doors there is a goat (not the same one, presumably, two separate goats, each one behind a different door), and behind the third door there is a brand new car. You are given a choice of door to open, which you indicate to the show's host. The host then opens one of the doors that you have not chosen, and there is a goat behind it. At this point, would you change your choice of door to open?

Physics teacher began to think about the quantum mechanical wave functions of the two individual goats and the car, and that the original state before the opening of the first door by the show host was a superposition of the three overlapping wavefunctions. Opening the first door constituted a measurement of part of the system, leading to a partial collapse of the wavefunction, and the new situation being now represented by a superposition of the wavefunctions of the one remaining goat and the car ... at which point the effect of a glass and half of wine kicked in and he returned to his dessert without saying anything.

Then physics teacher (2) took hold of the book, and carefully set about studying the analysis of the probabilities of opening a door with the car behind it, calculated first with no doors having been opened and then with the one door having been opened. The argument was apparently that the chances of choosing the door with the car correctly first time were smaller than those of choosing it second time, after the one door had been opened, so you should change your choice of door.

At this point, physics teacher and physics teacher (2) both agreed that the situation of the second choice was a new one compared to the first choice, and so to compare a probability calculated on the basis of the first situation to one calculated for the second was nonsensical.

Neither midwife nor English teacher (advisory) offered a solution.

As I am sure the astute readers of this blog will realise, the key to finding the answer to the problem about the meaning of life contained in this conundrum is:

Should we really value to the car

more highly than we value the goat?

Little Venice to Camden - but not quite back again

Zero and I went out for the day yesterday, starting with Mass at St James Spanish Place, adjourning round the corner (with a few others who had been to Mass!) for tea and toast, and then heading for Warwick Avenue to start this walk. [The http://www.waterscape.com/things-to-do/walking/london-walks site has some other walks that can be downloaded].

The walk from Spanish Place to Warwick Avenue took in:

And Marylebone Station (to get on the Bakerloo line to Warwick Avenue). Not somewhere I had ever been before, and rather more pleasant an enviroment than some of the much larger London stations. Raided Marks and Spencers for sandwiches for lunch.

The walk along the Regent canal has some very pleasant spots, though one or two bits were a bit "untidy concrete". You do get a real sense of entering a "different world", seeing the narrow boats moored along the sides of the canal. It was a bit difficult to tell how many, but some of them are people's homes.

Arriving at Camden Lock saw an increase in the number of people ... and a decrease in the average age. As you get older, it does get more and more difficult trying to be trendy. The M&S sandwiches sitting beside the locks probably marked us out from those partaking of (less healthy?) fast food from the nearby market stalls.

I could not live in Primrose Hill, as there were no Italian restaurants and life without Spaghetti Carbonara is not life at all. The view from the top of the hill, though, is very worthwhile, and I kicked myself for not having a pair of binoculars with me. Recession or not, one of the features of the skyline looking south across the centre of London was the number of construction cranes.

As we headed back towards St John's Wood, someone had had enough (I still have to really understand females and shoes ... ).

Some more training is needed, I think, before we take on Santiago de Compostella .....