Reflections - An interview with SPVR

Comments

29th Day

As I enter my fifth week of social isolation, today is my 29th day, and I am somewhat surprised to find that rather than being bored by it all, I find myself stimulated by the opportunity that time creates. I have certainly found myself more directly engaged in the day to day challenges faced by others as the lockdown continues through the increased constituency workload. And neighbours in the immediate vicinity of where I stay, are now people with whom I am at least on nodding terms with. Getting out of the car and onto my feet has had some social benefit as well as benefitting my health. In Edinburgh, I would have found myself having a degree of social interaction during my 12-minute walk to and from Parliament. But substantially less than in the now 80 minutes or so of my daily walk. I suppose that in part, that is because people in the country that I meet are not rushing to be somewhere. They are already where they need, and want, to be. By contrast, in the city one ma...

Tome for a new keybiard

Today is the one hundred and eighth daily episode of my reports from an 8th decader's lockdown. For a mathematician, 108 is a "good" number. Having three digits just locks into parts of the brain that tune into threes. And at a glance, it is a number that is divisible by three. Why, at a glance? Because if you add up the digits one, zero and eight, the answer is nine. Any number whose digits add up to a number that divides by three is itself divisible by three. If after the first add, you have answer bigger than nine, add the digits together and keep doing that until you have a single digit. This is a digit sum. If the final digit is a nine, then the original number will be divisible by three and by nine. If it's a six, then it's divisible by two and by three. And finally, if it's a three, then it is an odd number which is divisible by three. I am far from sure, but my memory is trying to persuade me that I was taught this at school. I am certain about...

Early starts

Today I rose early at 0500. It's one of these mornings that rewards you for doing so—a gentle sun shining through a modest, moist haze and the grass glistening with dew. Blue sky above and a crisp one degree outside providing a wake-up jolt as I open my study window to let the fresh air in and a cat out. She decides that heading off to the bedroom to join a somnolent spouse is a better bet for now. But the early rise is not for the "joy of the morning". That's a short poem written by Edwin Markham more than a century ago. "I hear you, little bird, Shouting a-swing above the broken wall. Shout louder yet: no song can tell it all. Sing to my soul in the deep, still wood : ‘Tis wonderful beyond the wildest word: I'd tell it, too, if I could. Oft when the white, still dawn Lifted the skies and pushed the hills apart, I’ve felt it like a glory in my heart (The world's mysterious stir) But had no throat...

Search This Blog