Under such a misfortune as this, one cannot see too little of one's neighbours

I first read Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice when I was thirteen. I now realise this was far too young to really appreciate the main point of the book: that being that Fitzwilliam Darcy is surely the hottest man in fiction. He is proud, mysterious, rude and angry at himself for being in love with a completely unsuitable girl with an utterly unfiltered mouth. In fact, if Austen wrote the novel now, Darcy would surely be a vampire.

This discovery came in the wake of finding free audio books for download (e.g. here). Admittedly, the readers vary in quality but I was suitably entertained while waiting for my code to crash. The latter, incidentally, is less likely to run smoothly than Lydia become a sensible girl.

If anyone reading this is bemoaning the fact they found this English classic too stilted to get through, I'm led to believe that adding zombies to it helps the situation.

You three at the front ... look like a galaxy

On Monday I am giving a colloquia at the Origins Institute at McMaster. This research seminar series is interesting since the audience are all scientists, but from a wide range of areas. So, for instance, I can happily assume I can talk in some depth about the hydrodynamics equations my code is using, but might have to remind them what a galaxy is.

There is one other small challenge I am dealing with; my laptop had hard-drive failure over Christmas and my new one ... is in Alaska. However, it was previously in China so we're making progress. Nevertheless, China, Alaska or even the sorting office in Toronto will be no use to me come Monday and I still have to write the talk, so borrowing someone elses is also problematic. I believe this gives me two choices:

1. A blackboard talk .... on computational astrophysics. I'll simply have to draw my simulation results. The key movie for my talk consists of a galaxy evolving for 300 million years with one image taken every million years. So I will sketch, tell my audience to hold that thought and then draw the image corresponding to a million years later. Or perhaps I could have a gigantic flip chart with a huge mechanical thumb to flick through the pages for the audience to see.

2. The option my supervisor suggested was that of interpretative dance. In fact, this colloquium is compulsory for students studying at the Origins Insitute, so I could enlist them in this endevour:

"You, over there, you are part of a spiral arm! Try and curve your spine a little more ..... right, now you've undergone gravitational fragmentation. Curl up. Oh please! GRAVITY IS ACTING BABY! Tighter. Try and become a point mass ..... Okay, now you've formed a star. At least try and glow...."

However you look at it, it is going to be awesome.

Night stalker

Silently the many legged stalker advances on the inert human form, buried deep beneath the bedclothes. The initial attack strategy of head-butts and a vibrating voice produce no motion. Phase two is engaged whereby a limb is inserted between neck and pillow to bop sleeping human on the nose. In horror, she discovers the invasive front foot is trapped! Caught in a devious counter attack that proves sleep was merely an optimistic faint. The only solution is to try and follow after the restrained appendage, burrowing face and shoulders into the widening gap between bed and body. In a sudden movement, the stalker is scooped into the air, only to be placed down on the bed and used as a furry purry pillow. What could have caused such extreme repercussions? Could it be her assault or the timing of 5 am in the morning? Ahh, it's good to be back.

I have returned to Canada, dug out car, collected cat and -- in some crazy sense of competition -- the UK has now filled up with more snow than we have here. What's with that?

Let it snow

Snow! Here in the UK, who would have guessed it? Naturally, no one (despite the fact that it usually occurs at some point during any twelve month period). Therefore, hundreds of people are stranded at airports, in their cars, department stores and, possibly most oddly, the channel tunnel which you would naively think would be unaffected by the weather.

Since living in NYC and now Canada, it's fairly hilarious watching the country dissolve in chaos from a few inches of frozen water. That said, it'd doubtless be rather less entertaining if I weren't safely at home with a hot mug of tea. The problem I guess comes from the rarity of such conditions making it impractical for the Government to purchase serious snow equipment for a single use a year, although the BBC have now printed an article on how to grit a road, in case anyone was up for a change of career. Given the STFC's science proposal for the next five years funding, it's not without appeal.

Meanwhile, I'm attempting to demonstrate the benefits of gluttony to our ailing family cat who, at twenty, has decided food is for "them young things". It's not quite as I would have it, but I suspect when I reach the equivalent age in human years, I won't give a damn either.

Raclette

Melt a pile of Swiss cheese, pour it over new potatoes with added pickles, gherkins, tomatoes and bacon, have a baby wave a bread roll at you and you have a great Swiss meal! It is possible that the small child is not strictly necessary for raclette, but with only a single data point it's hard to be sure.

Regardless of the necessary trimmings, I ate too much cheese. I don't even regret it and it'll set off the too-much-chocolate I intend to eat next week at home. I did, however, almost miss out on the entire experience by struggling to find my cousin at Zurich station. Damn those giant Christmas trees and pretty market stalls that were set up in my line of sight! Outrageous.

In other news, apparently the UK has stopped funding Astronomy. Sad but ... OK, not totally true ... but the STFC (Science & Technology Facilities Council) announced a pile of project cuts in their five year outline. Fortunately, I'm totally into being a Hobo, so I'm just going to continue my plan to use Astronomy to work in every country that'll have me and pretend it's because of the economic situation. Yes.

Where are you from?

It's a standard question that pretty much everyone asks, especially in academia where people move around a great deal:

Where are you from?

Yet, because young researchers do indeed change jobs frequently, it's not a question with an easy answer. For instance, do they mean "where are you from ..?" as in your current main residence when not visiting this institute? Or "where are you from ..?" as in the institute you were at before starting your current job? Or "where are you from..?"; the city your parents now live in and where you might refer to as home? Or "where are you from..?"; the place you spent most of your childhood and where you accumulated your accent?

For me, the answers span three continents which makes is a tad hard to produce a single all-purpose answer unless I was to say "Earth" and I'd rather hope that much was obvious (though don't always bank on it - I do work in Physics).

Of course, I ask this question myself as often as I receive it and while having this debate with someone in the same position (who I had indeed just addressed the question to) I came to the conclusion that what I was really asking him was:

Where would you be deported to if the government discovered astronomy was actually a cover for drug smuggling?

(You see X-rays from space do you? I think it's time to you sobered up, young man!)

I would hasten to add however, that it is purely coincidental that my answer to the above question is also where I am going for Christmas. Not deported, folks, not deported. There really is a universe in my computer that I built from cubes resembling virtual Lego bricks. (I think I win for being paid to believe that.)

Swiss complex

There is something about Zurich that makes me feel slightly inferior to the Swiss. Perhaps it is the perfectly clean and efficient tram service or the way that everyone, from professors to shop keepers, speaks accentless English. Maybe it is the beautiful buildings, the mountains or the giant metal cowbells that hang around bovine necks just like in the picture postcards. It could be the sparkling clear lakes or the fact that the Astronomy department has both foosball and ping pong tables that have never been stolen in a drunken student revelry.

Not that the nation does not have its idiosyncrasies. Many citizens extol the virtues of mountain air, good cheese and fresh bread and then proceed to smoke like a chimney. It is an eye opener and a mouth (and nose) closer.

I am currently sitting in the newly renovated apartment I have rented for two weeks. Aimed at visiting academics, it is opposite the University of Zurich's campus and comes with everything you need; bed, TV, stove ... and an incredibly complex coffee machine. Like the rice cooker in my apartment in Japan, the Swiss seem to have clear opinions of what is absolutely essential for survival.

Amusingly, I was repeatedly taken aback to be addressed in German as I mooched around the town centre. Ah, that's right! It's a foreign country with buttons on objects you would rather were kept simple, but it's not Japan and all Europeans look the same.