Trainspotting

Here I am en route to Edinburgh, or Auld Reekie as it was once known due to its unpleasant smell in pre-sanitation days. I can't wait to add my own smell to the mix. Perhaps I can be called Young Reekie?

My new religion

Daddy is an atheist. Mummy is an agnostic Catholic. But since staying at Neil and Jo's house, I have discovered my own religion. Today I was baptised into the Orthodox Church of Alethea.

The tenets of my religion are as follows:

I hold this truth to be self-evident, that in a few months I too shall be able to pull everything out of a cupboard and onto the floor. I believe in the life of the world to come: a world in which I shall pour my water out of the cup and onto the floor. I believe that Alethea's name is 'Cat! Cat! Cat!'

The Other City

We are currently in Norwich.  Norwich's slogan when marketing itself to tourists is 'Norwich - a fine city'.  Some years ago it was changed to 'Norwich - the other city', in a reference to the time when it was England's capital city around the time of the Norman conquest.  I don't know who Norman was, but things have changed since he was around, and 'the other city' never really took off as a slogan.  Now it is simply 'A fine city' once again.

Today I met my other great-grandmother, Kathleen.  She had some very shiny buttons which were marvellous, and also some lovely Christmas decorations hanging from her ceiling which fascinated me.

Even better than great grandma was her cat, Feet.  

'Ga!  Ga!' I shrieked as soon as I saw him.  My parents think this means 'cat' but they are so wrong - of course it means: 'Do come over here, cat, so that I can conduct a detailed physiological study of you and double-check that you have been correctly classified on the taxonomic charts!  Failing that, I would like to eat some of your cat biscuits.'

Fitzwilliam, Fitzdoug and Fitzolly

Today Doug and Olly came to visit.  We went out to enjoy the British sunshine.  British sunshine is interesting - it seems to be made of an unfamiliar liquid which drips out of the sky.  

I found my face was quite tanned by the end of an hour or so wandering Cambridge in this shining light, but the tan faded very fast once we went indoors.

We visited the Fitzwilliam museum, where we saw the pots that were smashed a few years ago and then very carefully stuck together.  

Daddy put his jacket on as we were leaving, and I said 'A ga ba ba ba ba baaaaaa.' which means: 'Oh look - it fits William.'  Then I laughed my head off, but no one else seemed to appreciate my pun. 

Meet you at the cemetery gates

Today I accompanied a leading Wittgenstein scholar on an homage to the great man's graveside, which is down a quiet side path in outer Cambridge.  

It is said, though perhaps apocryphal, that the philosopher's last words were 'Tell them I've had a wonderful life.'

'Blllllllll brrrr brrrrrr.' I said wittily, which means: 'Tell them I've had a wonderful walk.  Tee hee!'

Fostering my genius

Today we went to visit Daddy's old house in London.

The place was renovated when Daddy lived there. 'Wa wa wa wa bfrrrrrr.' I said, which means 'This looks nice. Who did the building? Perhaps we can get him to do our bathroom in Melbourne too?'

Mummy explained that we would need plans by Norman Foster and a half billion pound budget to achieve a similar look in our bathroom.

I thought this sounded reasonable - I do some of my best thinking in the bath and I need an uplifting environment in which to bathe.

For example, I have already arrived at Archimedes' eureka moment completely independently. I've also discovered a formula that demonstrates that the amount of water displaced (w) is directly proportional to the poshness of the bathroom (p) and the presence of carpet (c).

Like all good scientists, I believe that a valid experiment must be replicable and so I make sure to repeat it at every bathtime.

Sad news about the Thylacine; better news about Ceylon

Today I visited the University Museum of Zoology, where many rare and extinct entities are preserved. For example, I discovered birds from British Central Guinea, Ceylon, Natal and Malaya, all of which are now very difficult to visit.

Best of all was the Thylacine label, which is written entirely in the present tense. I was stunned to learn that this evasive marsupial has been restricted in habitat to just Tasmania - and, regrettably, that there are some thoughts that it may even be extinct.

I was amazed to see that someone had parked a whale skeleton in the carpark above the museum.

'Ba ba ba ba ba brrrrr!' I said in astonishment, which means: 'Who drives such an ostentatious vehicle around? And how much does the registration cost? Let alone the parking fees!'

When I returned home, I was inspired to continue my entomological investigations and discovered a hyperintelligent silverfish, Buggus Cambriensis. It seemed to know an awful lot about eighteenth century chemistry...but not as much as me.