Jacquetta

Yesterday morning's sensational sighting in our garden was of the handsome mammal above: a pine marten (Martes martes). We had great viewings as it moved calmly through our shrubs, seemingly on the prowl for baby birds.  We had plenty of time to view her (?) through binoculars, but they were barely needed - she was less than ten metres from the house. We felt sad for the infant dunnocks, whose parents were agitated but powerless when their nest was raided, but we felt so privileged to have such a clear sighting of this elusive predator. It belongs to the carnivorous family Mustelidae that also includes weasels, badgers and otters.

Persecuted nearly to extinction and confined by loss of habitat, by a century ago pine martens were found only in remote parts of the north-west Highlands. They were unknown south of the Border. They gained full legal protection in 1988, and according to Scottish Natural Heritage they are making a comeback and recolonising their former haunts in Scotland. The SNH methodology involved "DNA analysis on possible scats gathered along 1-km transects"; our methodology was to open our eyes and rub them in disbelief (it was about 7.30 am).

We were delighted to have our friends Nick and Margaret as house-guests and witnesses to this. And today we have been treated to a second daytime sighting of this amazing animal - agile enough to catch a squirrel. Previously we have seen a wild boar (once, in the adjacent field), a dog otter (twice - both times in the garden) and, of course, roe deer are regular visitors.  Truly this is a remarkable place to live, and having decided with regret that after 20+ years we need to downsize and move on, we will miss these jaw-dropping sightings perhaps more than anything else about Landrick Lodge.

I was too excited to grab a camera, so the image above is courtesy of Country Diary, theguardian. And because trees are so important in the pine marten's ecosystem, and because they remain mercifully stationary while I pick up a camera, here is a closing shot of what IMO may be the finest birch tree in Scotland, captured in our back garden at sunset (about 10 pm).

Keir has become a Fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh which was created by Royal Charter at the height of the Enlightenment in 1783. Above he is being formally admitted by its President, Sir John Arbuthnott on 20 May (photo courtesy of the RSE). The RSE is Scotland's national academy, with strong leanings towards science and technology. It stands in a beautiful domed building in George Street where we enjoyed mingling with other Fellows and families after the formal ceremony: the language level of the smalltalk was impressive, but plenty of wine helped to lubricate the proceedings. 

For the 47 Fellows admitted last week, the vocabulary level involved in the citations was challenging. Honorary Fellows included Sir David Cox (Nuffield College), one of the world's leading statisticians, Robbert Dijkgraaf (Princeton) who "has uncovered new structures in topological string theory, quantum states of black holes and supersymmetric gauge theories" and Jean Tirole (University of Toulouse) whose research covers applications of game theory to corporate finance, banking and currency crises (!). So it was a relief to read Michel Virlogeux's citation, which included the design of the Millau Viaduct whose elegance is more easily appreciated (courtesy fotopedia.com).

Given the average number of higher degrees and academic honours of his fellow Fellows, some might think that Keir (who has only a first degree) is lacking in credentials. Of course I am biased, but I believe that his lifelong work at the leading edge in Scottish education means that his participation in the RSE will reflect well on the Society, albeit vice versa, the RSE has certainly honoured him. Furthermore he was the only Fellow to mention his family in his biographical note. I can't resist sharing a clipping from his certificate.

After being careless enough to leave my mobile lying out of doors overnight, I was surprised to discover how commonly this happens. A 2011 survey of 2000 phone users found that 31% had damaged their phones with liquids. An amazing 47% of these dropped them down the toilet, which underlines that there are liquids worse than rain!

Online, I found lots of people offering "how I fixed mine" advice and others wanting to sell you repair kits - but what would you do with your phone while awaiting the delivery? YouTube features some of the worst-made, most frustratingly repetitive and incoherent videos that I've ever watched.

Here is a summary of what I learned:

1. Stay calm: if the liquid is plain water and the phone hasn't been exposed for too long, act fast and your chances of complete recovery are good. (If too much water is already inside the phone, the damage done is probably beyond economic repair, but what follows may be worth trying anyway.)
2. Do NOT switch the phone on to test it, however tempting this seems! If it was already on, don't press any buttons except the off switch. Get the battery out as fast as you can. Recharging comes later: your first priority is to avoid a short-circuit leading to sparks and fried electronics.
3. Remove any bumper or other cover, and take out anything that you easily can (battery, SIM card etc). Shake out and mop up as much moisture as you can (I used kitchen paper), and try to dry in and around sockets.
4. Do NOT be tempted to use direct heat (avoid the oven or even a hairdryer on low setting): patience is your best ally in the drying out process. You need to draw moisture away from the electronics slowly using a desiccant, not to risk moving the dampness around, let alone melting the plastic. If a friend suggests using a microwave or freezer, they either know no physics or they aren't your friend.
5. Some people advise immersing it in isopropyl alcohol, but how many people who have just dunked their phone have a bottle of that handy? Also, if it isn't at least 99% pure, there's a risk of impurities doing further damage, so I didn't pursue this. 
6. Most people can easily get hold of uncooked white rice: burying the phone in plenty of rice inside a ziplock bag will draw out the moisture eventually. But it can take several days, and there are many stories of people taking it out too soon in order to try it, only having to put it back for another 24 or 48 hours. And the rice flour/dust tends to get everywhere, which can't be ideal.
7. Silica gel works much faster than rice. Even if the shops are closed when disaster strikes, have you a few little sachets marked "Do not eat. Throw away." lying around? (I assume you have followed the first instruction but maybe not the second.) Check cartons from anything electronic - TVs, cameras, computer stuff. Put the phone inside a ziplock bag or plastic box, and be patient. Ideally, leave it overnight before testing. It's natural to be in a hurry to see if your cure has worked, but patience pays.
8. Prevention is better than cure, obviously, both for keeping the phone dry and for damage limitation. Start collecting silica gel sachets now: even if you never get your mobile wet, they may be a godsend to a friend!
9. Most mobile companies won't cover water damage under warranty, and inside your phone there is probably a cheatproof Liquid Contact Indicator, so don't be tempted to economise with the truth. Apple won't repair, they will replace. Water damage may lead to latent faults which are near-impossible to diagnose and uneconomic to fix; and for sure, replacing wet iPhones is very profitable for Apple.
10. Having pondered the above, I suspect that many folk (even if successful in the short term) may mistrust the phone after a soaking, and perhaps put it on eBay before too long. (I won't be doing that, but I also won't be buying a used cellphone on eBay, ever.)  

Although it was very careless of me to have left my phone outside, I don't think I'll ever do it again.  I just hope that anybody reading this will, if they are unlucky/daft enough to get their phone wet, be more likely to remember what to do and what to avoid!

When I found my phone I was too busy drying it off to think of photographing it. Credit for the photo above belongs to Liquipel - a Californian company that offers a waterproofing service - at $59 plus shipping!

Having overnighted in Duddingston, we were delighted to find Saturday's weather still good, and decided to climb Arthur's Seat first thing. From Duddingston Loch, there's a steepish but fairly direct approach to the upper road near Dunsapie Loch, then a lovely gentle grassy approach to the final rocky summit area. At just 250.5 m (822 feet) this extinct volcano dates from the Carboniferous era (about 350 million years ago) and it offers a huge payoff for a very modest effort.

It's amazing to be part of such a rural scene and yet only 2 miles from Waverley Station. It's also humbling to be treading in James Hutton (1726-97) territory: the famous Hutton's Section is a feature in nearby Salisbury Crags. He concluded that its volcanic rocks must have been molten when they penetrated the sedimentary rock, thus placing them in a different geological era. It was this sense of "deep time" that later gave Darwin a long enough scale over which to imagine that natural selection could take place. It's tempting to wonder if Hutton would have realised all this had he not been a son of Edinburgh and regular visitor to Salisbury Crags.

We were thrilled to see a kestrel hovering over the rough grasses of the approach, to glimpse skylarks and to hear lots of other small birds. You also get good views over the hill forts of Crow Hill and Arthur's Seat. But the climax was reaching the craggy rocks of the summit area with its wonderful views in all directions: below are some views north-west over Waverley towards the Forth bridges, west over the Meadows and south towards the Pentlands:

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And finally, I can't resist the inevitable summit photo of two happy people:

After over 30 years, I was thinking that I should part company with my much-loved BBC Micro with its twin disc drives and colour monitor. Somehow it had come to seem part of the family, although in truth it was bought for professional reasons. It was my workhorse word processor on which many books were written, including Inside Information (BBC Publications, 1985) and the manual for Wordwise Plus, its instant word processing ROM chip with a powerful built-in programming language. It was supplanted only in 1989 by a Macintosh IIcx.

Thinking that I should try it on eBay, rather than consign it to landfill, I assembled it ten days ago to see if it still worked. I tried out an endearing Acornsoft program called Podd, which leapt into life immediately (my fingers haven't forgotten how to Shift-Break or *W.). I thought it might be interesting to see how grand-daughter Amy, aged 7 and well used to iPhones, iPads, Kindle Fires and other technotoys, would react to its prehistoric clunky graphics, electronic beeps and simple interface. She absolutely loved it, just as her uncle and mother had loved Podd at her age. By this time I had looked out what a friend described as the largest collection of legal educational software for the BBC Micro that he had ever seen and was wondering what to try next, once she was bored with Podd - when disaster struck. A sharp crackle, a smell of burning and smoke started to billow - so I hastily unplugged it from the wall! Amy was first terrified and then really upset: poor Podd, she worried, would have been hurt, and protectively she picked up his box to cuddle him!

Thinking the power supply had blown, I realised that this made the eBay decision much easier, and last Sunday I listed the still-working disc drive and display screen on eBay. This has triggered dozens of messages from BBC aficionados: some explained that I could and should repair the BBC micro, rather than sell it, another had used Wordwise while at school and thus knew of my manual and prompt cards. Others again wanted to buy the dead computer as well as its peripherals, another wanted me to ship it all outside Great Britain. Some were at pains to assure me that it would be going to a home that would look after it well, and another was appealing to me to sell it for a house containing "a living timeline of vintage systems". Clearly this listing has touched a communal nerve of computing history, just as Podd has endeared himself to successive generations. Without the demise of the power system, I still wonder if I would have been strong enough to part with it.

Did you watch Newsnight Scotland last Thursday (BBC2)? If not, courtesy of iPlayer, you can catch it here at least for the next few days. The first 7 minutes is an excellent film report, followed by what was supposed to be studio discussion, with Keir Bloomer and Ken Cunningham (School Leaders Scotland) in Glasgow and Alex Massie of the Spectator in Edinburgh. But it was discussion so strongly led and stage-managed by Gordon Brewer that I was left wondering if he wants Michael Gove to run Scotland's schools.

Because I was away at the IPG conference, I watched it for the first time yesterday, and, with mounting disbelief, again today. Gordon Brewer had a clear agenda, and seemed to go well beyond the role of chairman in order to promote his own enthusiasm for league tables and for punishing "failing schools". Alex Massie of the Spectator was his willing accomplice, and clearly Gordon Brewer knew he could count on his support. A habitual interrupter of almost interviewee, Gordon Brewer even interrupted himself to bring in Alex Massie to agree with him.

Considering that the item was created and broadcast in Scotland, just after the publication of a major report, you might have expected it to address how to improve Scotland's schools. In fact, with under 3 minutes remaining, Keir had to interrupt Gordon Brewer to suggest that the panel should talk about Scottish education.

Students of media studies might view this programme carefully when considering the role and techniques of a neutral chairman. Here are some verbatim quotations from Gordon Brewer: "England has come from behind and is now ahead - that's the bottom line on this ..." and he interrupts Keir's response to say "The way to make that distinction is by doing what they do in England which is by using school league tables". Keir then suggests discussion of Scottish schools, rather than English, and Gordon Brewer interrupts again to insist on his league tables as the only way forward, and breaks in again to assert that "On average, it's working in England" - as if all failing English schools have been turned around by outside interventions. And he quotes from his own experience and perceptions while working in London.

Gordon Brewer is of course entitled to his personal enthusiasm for league tables and labelling failing schools. But did he really want to listen to, or even to hear, what his invited panellists had to say?

Yesterday's launch of the cross-party Commission's report was an intriguing event. Above you can see three of the four panellists: Morag Pendry, Keir Bloomer and Frank Lennon, with Councillor Paul McLennan (SNP) out of shot to the right. There was a lively audience, a broad area of interest and the event was better attended and attracted more questions than expected.

Another dimension was the circus of photographers (stills and moving), tweeters, bloggers and others. It must be challenging to reduce a report of 125 A4 pages to a tweet but doubtless there are those who enjoy the challenge. All credit to the audience who managed to focus on the platform speakers despite all the sideshows. Here is the BBC crew with Seonag MacKinnon as interviewer:

Both think tanks, Reform Scotland and CSPP now have the report PDF as a download from their websites, but I recommend the CSPP website because they also have an update on recent coverage here. What it doesn't yet give you is the link to the radio coverage which, as always, was in more depth than television. For the next six or seven days, you'll find Gary Robertson's interview with Keir on Good Morning Scotland for five minutes starting after about 2 hours 22 minutes.

The Commission was healthily cross-party, with some members strongly identified with each of the four main parties, including two councillors and former Education Minister Peter Peacock. An interesting aside that emerged only in the Q&A was that although there was "robust discussion" on occasion, the debates never split along party lines. This heartwarming fact is reflected in the fact that yesterday all four parties issued statements welcoming the report. Now the key question is whether the Scottish Government will do anything effective about implementing it.

Am off to Edinburgh shortly for the launch of By Diverse Means - the report of the Commission for School Reform, at Dynamic Earth. Keir has been chairing this group for the last year and they've come up with some radical, far-reaching ideas.

The report is a profound and thoughtful document, with 125 pages of evidence-backed analysis of where and how Scotland's education system has failed to combat disadvantage. It offers 37 sepcific recommendations, plus just over a page of Executive Summary for readers in a hurry. It will be widely available by PDF as well as in printed form, but I can't upload it here: I'm sure I'd get into trouble if I used the copy sitting on my hard drive before the embargo:) I expect it will be on Reform Scotland's website soon. (Reform Scotland is one of the two think tanks behind the Commission.)

It's good to see that the BBC has picked up the story already: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-21643568 - and trailed it also on its UK pages. Keir will be on Good Morning Scotland (radio) and TV later in the day. It's good to see the publicity momentum beginning to build.

Turning 65 on Sunday was a positive feeling: age brings a sense of being comfortable inside your own skin. Without being complacent, there is no longer pressure to conform to other people's expectations or to pretend to like things that you don't. Above all, it feels OK to love things that other people are baffled by.

The surprise feature of my birthday was a mystery overnight trip which Keir had arranged. I was allowed to drive, and once I was told to head north on the A9 I hoped it would be a Highland experience. And it was! The Atholl Palace Hotel dominates the skyline, with Ben Vrackie as its backdrop. And this was the surprise location for the whole family to gather, including all three granddaughters. After some bubbly and a really splendid dinner, most of us slept very soundly.

Image courtesy of http://www.spabreak.co.uk/

Next morning was not merely a chance to enjoy the swimming pool but also to explore the hotel and its history. After the arrival of the railway in 1863, the Athole Hydopathic Company was formed to commissioned a spa and health retreat. Queen Victoria's doctor Sir James Clark had already declared Pitlochry "perhaps the healthiest place in the kingdom" and the Victorian enthusiasm for "taking the waters" and for temperance made it seem a promising enterprise. Architect Andrew Heiton junior created a fine Scots baronial hotel for 200 guests, with Turkish baths in both wings. His architecture was better than his control of costs, however, and the intitial estimate of £40,000 had climbed to £100,000 by the time it finally opened on 7 June, 1878.

The Highland Lawn Tennis Championship began here in 1896, and continues to be held annually. In both wars, the hotel was home to schools: during the first, girls from Queen Margaret's School in Scarborough, including Winifred Holtby, moved in after being bombed, and remained in the hotel for the rest of the war. Postwar developments were carried out by Sir Henry Lunn of the Alpine Sports Club and his brother. Garages were built for car-borne tourists and the architect of the splendid Art Deco building for chauffeurs was still a final-year student at the Glasgow School of Art when his design was chosen. During World War 2, the hotel was again home to evacuee pupils from England, this time boys from the Leys School in Cambridge.

I learned all this and more from a splendid 20-minute video that is shown continuously in the Museum: few hotels can have as much reason to devote part of its property to its own history, architecture and wartime stories.

Some readers of this blog already know that I was deeply opposed to the Trailblaze scheme to instal ugly timing boxes on National Trails in the hope of attracting endurance runners to race the trails: please see my last entry on this subject for a photograph and more background. I have just learned that the petition campaign has succeeded and that even Natural England now admits that the whole thing was a terrible mistake: see their recent coy news item.

The folk who set up the protest website Say no to Trailblaze deserve some credit for their role in causing this climbdown. One of the wonderful aspects of the global web of personal computers is the empowerment of individual citizens to influence policy.

Another example is a petition started by Frances and Keith Smith, independent booksellers in Warwick, which I signed today. They want Amazon.co.uk - which sold £2.9 billion poundsworth of goods in the UK last year - also to pay corporation tax in the UK (instead of evading it via Luxembourg). Since all of us publishers and booksellers who are based in the UK already have to pay tax here, there is a solid argument that the playing field is not level.

Having signed, however, I baulked at some Facebook app that wanted my permission to badger other Facebook friends to sign. I may well be wrong about this (I'm a real novice at Facebook) but I'd rather people decide for themselves than being pestered by a robot that I have unwittingly set in motion. There is a degree of automation that risks credibility.