It used to be that newspapers published news, analysis and views, and bloggers linked to newspapers and said “have you seen this interesting story”.

At some point the balance shifted. Now newspapers publish news, bloggers publish analysis and views, and newspapers link back to the bloggers.

I was looking (online) for a new bikini. My old one is, I think, over 10 years old. Old enough that I cannot remember how old it is!

And the internet is full of totally ridiculous tiny pieces of cloth being sold as bikinis. I’m no prude but when wearing a bikini requires not just a shaved bikini line but a shaved everything, and it looks like it barely covers the relevant body parts, the whole thing looks indecent, frankly, and faintly disgusting (to the point that I don’t want that picture on my blog). Better to go naked, then: I would prefer wholesome natural nudity to this affected “covering up”.

Swimwear appears to fall into two categories. On the beach you bare everything (limited only by your notions of decency); in the swimming pool you wear a one-piece swimsuit. There’s very little in between – very few bikinis that look like they would be comfortable and actually allow me to move as well.

In the end I found some from BonPrix that appear comfortable, although they do make me think of middle-aged ladies… But then again I will mostly be using mine in a middle-aged setting (in the swimming pool with Ingrid), not strutting around on the beach like a teenager, so I guess it’ll sort of fit in.

My workday today started with me getting stuck in an elevator for an hour. First the elevator stopped. Then it went dark. And then I got a chance to try one of those little alarm buttons.

And then I waited. They called an engineer but it took about an hour before he got there. In the meantime I learned to play the puzzle game on my phone (and had time to wish that it had better games) and ate my breakfast sandwich. Very disappointingly I had a yoghurt as well, and I really wished I could eat it, but I had no spoon. I have many useful things in my handbag but no spoon just now. Note to self: always carry a spoon.

Our baby monitor runs on batteries.
The batteries last about a week.
The batteries have to be taken out for recharging, because the base station provides electricity but does not recharge batteries.
And the battery compartment closes with a SCREW.

Truly, sometimes I think some corporations are simply evil. Someone somewhere is rubbing their hands and thinking with glee of all the time that parents will spend screwing and unscrewing that darn thing.

We like orchids. We have few. In fact we have about as many as we can fit onto our desks without making it completely impossible to use the desks for their intended purpose. (Nine.) Some have been with us for years, others are more recent additions.

Some flower, some don’t. Well, they all have flowers when you buy them – I’ve never seen anyone try to sell an orchid without flowers – but not all of them have flowered again. Our phalaenopsis has been flowering almost constantly for the last few years: a new stalk shoots up before the previous one has even lost its last flower. One of our oncidiums seemed to feel great for over two years, growing a massive bundle of roots and leaves, to the point where it needs the support of three thick books to remain upright, but just wouldn’t flower. Then suddenly a month ago it finally produced an impressive array of bright yellow flowers. Another, much smaller oncidium took no time at all to flower again, but only came up with half a dozen flowers on a stalk so short that you could barely see it among all the leaves.

Here is the large oncidium at its best, and a close-up of its impressive roots (and a toddler in the background):

Here’s one whose name I have forgotten:

And here is the phalaenopsis, trying to fight its way through the window, closer to the light:

It’s strange. You take Christmas pudding, which on its own is overwhelmingly sticky-sweet. And you take brandy cream, which on its own is overwhelmingly sticky-sweet. And you put the two together, and the result actually tastes quite good. How did that happen?

In both of our London apartments the hot water is a while coming. (The homes before these two were so long ago that I cannot actually remember how the taps behaved there.)

Whenever we turn on the tap, we get only cold water for a good several minutes. If I want to shower, I turn on the water first, then do something else for a while (such as brush my teeth) and then come back for the shower. For quicker things such waiting isn’t worth either the time or the wasted water, so we make do with water that can range from coolish to distinctly cold. Washing the face and hands can be done perfectly well with cool water. Dishes can generally also be washed in cold water without any real trouble, as long as they’re few and not too greasy. (And before you get all anxious about the germs, you should know that the FDA says that washing hands in hot water does not kill bacteria better than washing them in cold water.)

The end result is that I am now so strongly conditioned to expect cool water that anything else feels wrong. When I want to wash my hands after going to the loo at work, or to wash my face in a hotel bathroom, I turn the tap handle well over towards the cold side, in order to get that familiar feeling of cool water. Cool feels refreshing. Warm is for showers, and for thorough scrubbing of really dirty things. Warm water for brushing teeth? Yuck!

Last weekend we went to Windsor castle. It’s one of those sights you almost have to visit when you’re in London, and despite living here for over 6 years we never have.

It turned out we hadn’t missed much. Big castle, yes. Lots of fancy old furniture, yes. Lots of paintings and tapestries and porcelain, yes. But ultimately it was just a castle like most others, with nothing particularly interesting to say about itself – all gilded surface and little else.

The first room you see with fine furniture and paintings is impressive. The second and third ones are nice. But after a while it’s difficult to feel impressed about it, especially because most of the interior was fairly… boring. Expensive and kind of beautiful but utterly conventional. Nothing stood out because of its innovative design or striking individuality.

Instead it made me think about what an immense waste of resources it all was. I guess it becomes a habit, an agglomeration of wealth that feeds itself. Imagine you’re an ambassador or something like that, two hundred years ago, and you want the king to be favourably inclined towards your projects. You have an audience with the king, and of course you bring a gift. You probably bring something expensive but relatively conventional – some example of fine craftsmanship. So the stuff piles up whether the king wants it or not.

I also thought of what could have been done to make the visit more interesting. One way would have been to offer themed tours. Instead of a one-size-fits-all audio tour that necessarily presumes that you know nothing about castles and that you are interested in hearing a welcome talk by Prince Charles, how about a talk about the handicraft (masonry and carpentry and metalworks) that has gone into the building of the castle? Or about the logistics of running a castle, or the castle from the point of view of the staff, or the castle and international relations, or the castle in times of war, or meals and feasts at the castle? Any of these would have been better than the generic presentation. And it shouldn’t be that expensive to produce an hour’s worth of talk, or even just half an hour.

Westminster Abbey is another one of those must-see places we haven’t visited. Now I’m not so sure we will… Is it worth visiting, do you think?

I was hoping to post about our vacation today, but the post has been taking more time and space than expected (as they usually do) so it won’t be done until tomorrow at the earliest. However I can say that we went walking in Gran Canaria, and post this picture at least. The rock perched on top of the ridge at the left is Roque Nublo (“Cloudy Rock”), one of the best known landmarks in Gran Canaria.

We are leaving for a one-week vacation in Gran Canaria today. We have travelled with Ingrid before (she has flown abroad 5 times already) but this will be our first “real” vacation with her – the first time we go somewhere different to do something different.

It is most unlikely that I will have Internet access while we’re away.