or search for 'martin cadwell -caldwell' Take note of the position of the minus sign to eliminate caldwell returns or search for 'martin cadwell blog' in your browser. There is a space between my name and the minus sign and NO space before 'caldwell' to eliminate the name 'caldwell' in the Google listings
I am not on YouTube or social media
CadwellNOT Caldwell
Strange World
[ 5 minute read ]
Opinion
Just saying
I did not know that moths are water-proof. If you throw water at them when they are in your bath they don't get wet! And here's another thing. If you pull a leek out of the ground because it went to seed, leave it in a drought for months in a bucket and then it rains, the 'dead' leek grows bulbs at the base from which new leek plants grow. Who would have known?
I don't think moths are waterproof, because if they were, Mr Macintosh would not be known for rainproof coats; and I am pretty sure we can open our windows on a rainy night and not have tickles around our legs when we are naked, exotic men and women with feather dusters and boas aside.
I still have no explanation for the woodlouse in my bathroom which no matter how many times I rinse it away in the basin or down the bath plughole seems to make its appearance the next day in the bath or basin. Oh! perhaps my suspicion that visitors to my home leave insects and creepy crawlies behind is not a wild fantasy. I have long thought that they have packets of insects that they release in clean homes for some nefarious reason. I think I get it now; maybe.
I had a van that rust had rendered awkward for the MOT testers to pass. The wheel arches were pretty much destroyed and the holes left there were full of mud; the type of mud that mud huts are built out of. The mud that won't wash away and has the benefit of having hydrocarbons, and plastic and rubber particulates in it. MOT testers were not allowed to remove the mud or any other type of filler, no matter how ugly the appearance, while they were doing their tests. My understanding was that all they could do was run the back of their hand over afflicted areas, repaired or otherwise, to feel for sharp and scratchy areas. One time, my van failed because the wheel arches were scratchy. The MOT tester had dug out the mud. He advised me to take it to his cousin who had a repair shop and he would fill the arches with, well, filler. What a scam! I am quite surprised the tester did that because I was 1.85m and weighed 100kg (220 lb or 15 stone 9 lbs in old money) with no visible fat. Perhaps my reputation preceded me and the whole town knew I was a donkey without a decent bray; it was, after all, a town of boasts and posturing. You know, it is sometimes expensive to be considered to be benign (or stupid).
Of course, I am merely fantasising about people coming into my home to do repairs with boxes and packets of insects that I might report to a pest controller cousin. It does though, make for good entertainment when you follow them around your home with a microscope in one hand and a magnifying glass in the other. Frowning and raising your eyebrows adds to the tension too.
My doctor phoned me a couple of days ago.
'Are you alright? I am concerned.'
'I am fine.'
'You haven't picked up your prescription for two months.'
I had picked up my monthly prescriptions. I know that without checking the stuck-on labels for dates, because I haven't run out of eye-drops or acid-reflux inhibitors. The surgery's dispensing chemist had appropriately texted me to tell me to collect the issued medication and they duplicated the prescriptions and didn't text me to tell me about them ones. On Thursday last week I got a text fro the pharmacy saying that there is two months worth to be collected so I collected them on Monday this week. I got another text on Tuesday saying this months prescription is ready for collection. On Wednesday, the next day, my doctor called me to ask why I haven't collected my prescriptions. I told her I have been collecting them but she wouldn't believe me. She even expressed her concern that the September prescription will just add to the build-up of medication the pharmacy holds for me. Give me a chance, Doc, I only got the message about the September prescription the day before your telephone call. The pharmacy messed up but I am the one who is mistaken or lying in bed crying, lying at the bottom of a cliff with barked shins and a skinned knee while surrounded by hungry baboons, or hypnotised into immobility because I discovered Netflix ?
Isn't it crazy that when you have information you can't share it? Sometimes I am just plain fighting to help other people save time and show people stuff. I don't think I am an advocate for micro-managing, I just want to say, 'X marks the spot, me hearties!' and 'Look under this rock to see what crawls out into the undergwowth.' However, one has to be really careful not to write an opinion in a forum about a chapter in an OU text book when the moderator is the person who wrote that chapter. It is so, so easy to be shut down. It is not too far from insubordination as far as I can see. Just saying!
I suppose it is unbecoming of an undergraduate to give away secrets; after all, aren't we all trying to get ahead? I think it might also have something to do with plagiarism. If I share my research with others, and they include the results in their assignments, my own assignment might be rejected for plagiarism; or far worse - if someone independently comes up with the same results as I, and my results were published before the corresponding Tutor Marked Assignment deadlines, other people cannot disprove any plagiarism. It is only that which saves me from an agonising demise from lack of sleep induced by any astringent juices that are the by-product of metabolising and re-absorbing my bound and circumscribed generosity and helpfulness. I mean, if I was a veterinarian I would need to fit spectacles to the short-sighted badgers, and maybe rhinocerouses (rhinoceri?). It is octupi and not octopuses, isn't it?
Plagiarism, don't do it kids! It will ruin your life! The vultures that seek decay will find you and signal to all the other carrion-eaters where they can gorge themselves. Sell or trade your soul at your peril, or the honour and integrity of your descendants. I truly believe that we are given 'toys' to distract us from progression. I would readily be a 'fire and brimstone' lay-preacher given the chance. Television! SmartPhones! Money! Optional and discretionary goods! Luxury! Tinned and frozen food! Lies! Dishonour! Sneezing and Itching! Yes, anything that distracts anyone from an interesting or unusual train of thought or takes their hands away from a computer keyboard. I even consider lying to be deliberately dotting the 'i' in your handwriting after the 'i' to give graphologists the impression that you are progressive.
Unfortunately, my sizzling preaching might spill over onto a hot bed of contention.
'You won't worship a Supreme Being but you would bow down to an alien race from another planet that wipes out entire cities? If you want the second coming, then look to the skies and be afraid! You! Yes you! Stop that child snivelling!'
Waterproof moths, leeks that produce offspring when they are dead, information that must be kept secret, and doctors who won't believe their patients. It all adds up to a strange world.
Strange World
All my posts: https://learn1.open.ac.uk/mod/oublog/view.php?u=zw219551
or search for 'martin cadwell -caldwell' Take note of the position of the minus sign to eliminate caldwell returns or search for 'martin cadwell blog' in your browser. There is a space between my name and the minus sign and NO space before 'caldwell' to eliminate the name 'caldwell' in the Google listings
I am not on YouTube or social media
Cadwell NOT Caldwell
Strange World
[ 5 minute read ]
Just saying
I did not know that moths are water-proof. If you throw water at them when they are in your bath they don't get wet! And here's another thing. If you pull a leek out of the ground because it went to seed, leave it in a drought for months in a bucket and then it rains, the 'dead' leek grows bulbs at the base from which new leek plants grow. Who would have known?
I don't think moths are waterproof, because if they were, Mr Macintosh would not be known for rainproof coats; and I am pretty sure we can open our windows on a rainy night and not have tickles around our legs when we are naked, exotic men and women with feather dusters and boas aside.
I still have no explanation for the woodlouse in my bathroom which no matter how many times I rinse it away in the basin or down the bath plughole seems to make its appearance the next day in the bath or basin. Oh! perhaps my suspicion that visitors to my home leave insects and creepy crawlies behind is not a wild fantasy. I have long thought that they have packets of insects that they release in clean homes for some nefarious reason. I think I get it now; maybe.
I had a van that rust had rendered awkward for the MOT testers to pass. The wheel arches were pretty much destroyed and the holes left there were full of mud; the type of mud that mud huts are built out of. The mud that won't wash away and has the benefit of having hydrocarbons, and plastic and rubber particulates in it. MOT testers were not allowed to remove the mud or any other type of filler, no matter how ugly the appearance, while they were doing their tests. My understanding was that all they could do was run the back of their hand over afflicted areas, repaired or otherwise, to feel for sharp and scratchy areas. One time, my van failed because the wheel arches were scratchy. The MOT tester had dug out the mud. He advised me to take it to his cousin who had a repair shop and he would fill the arches with, well, filler. What a scam! I am quite surprised the tester did that because I was 1.85m and weighed 100kg (220 lb or 15 stone 9 lbs in old money) with no visible fat. Perhaps my reputation preceded me and the whole town knew I was a donkey without a decent bray; it was, after all, a town of boasts and posturing. You know, it is sometimes expensive to be considered to be benign (or stupid).
Of course, I am merely fantasising about people coming into my home to do repairs with boxes and packets of insects that I might report to a pest controller cousin. It does though, make for good entertainment when you follow them around your home with a microscope in one hand and a magnifying glass in the other. Frowning and raising your eyebrows adds to the tension too.
My doctor phoned me a couple of days ago.
'Are you alright? I am concerned.'
'I am fine.'
'You haven't picked up your prescription for two months.'
I had picked up my monthly prescriptions. I know that without checking the stuck-on labels for dates, because I haven't run out of eye-drops or acid-reflux inhibitors. The surgery's dispensing chemist had appropriately texted me to tell me to collect the issued medication and they duplicated the prescriptions and didn't text me to tell me about them ones. On Thursday last week I got a text fro the pharmacy saying that there is two months worth to be collected so I collected them on Monday this week. I got another text on Tuesday saying this months prescription is ready for collection. On Wednesday, the next day, my doctor called me to ask why I haven't collected my prescriptions. I told her I have been collecting them but she wouldn't believe me. She even expressed her concern that the September prescription will just add to the build-up of medication the pharmacy holds for me. Give me a chance, Doc, I only got the message about the September prescription the day before your telephone call. The pharmacy messed up but I am the one who is mistaken or lying in bed crying, lying at the bottom of a cliff with barked shins and a skinned knee while surrounded by hungry baboons, or hypnotised into immobility because I discovered Netflix ?
Isn't it crazy that when you have information you can't share it? Sometimes I am just plain fighting to help other people save time and show people stuff. I don't think I am an advocate for micro-managing, I just want to say, 'X marks the spot, me hearties!' and 'Look under this rock to see what crawls out into the undergwowth.' However, one has to be really careful not to write an opinion in a forum about a chapter in an OU text book when the moderator is the person who wrote that chapter. It is so, so easy to be shut down. It is not too far from insubordination as far as I can see. Just saying!
I suppose it is unbecoming of an undergraduate to give away secrets; after all, aren't we all trying to get ahead? I think it might also have something to do with plagiarism. If I share my research with others, and they include the results in their assignments, my own assignment might be rejected for plagiarism; or far worse - if someone independently comes up with the same results as I, and my results were published before the corresponding Tutor Marked Assignment deadlines, other people cannot disprove any plagiarism. It is only that which saves me from an agonising demise from lack of sleep induced by any astringent juices that are the by-product of metabolising and re-absorbing my bound and circumscribed generosity and helpfulness. I mean, if I was a veterinarian I would need to fit spectacles to the short-sighted badgers, and maybe rhinocerouses (rhinoceri?). It is octupi and not octopuses, isn't it?
Plagiarism, don't do it kids! It will ruin your life! The vultures that seek decay will find you and signal to all the other carrion-eaters where they can gorge themselves. Sell or trade your soul at your peril, or the honour and integrity of your descendants. I truly believe that we are given 'toys' to distract us from progression. I would readily be a 'fire and brimstone' lay-preacher given the chance. Television! SmartPhones! Money! Optional and discretionary goods! Luxury! Tinned and frozen food! Lies! Dishonour! Sneezing and Itching! Yes, anything that distracts anyone from an interesting or unusual train of thought or takes their hands away from a computer keyboard. I even consider lying to be deliberately dotting the 'i' in your handwriting after the 'i' to give graphologists the impression that you are progressive.
Unfortunately, my sizzling preaching might spill over onto a hot bed of contention.
'You won't worship a Supreme Being but you would bow down to an alien race from another planet that wipes out entire cities? If you want the second coming, then look to the skies and be afraid! You! Yes you! Stop that child snivelling!'
Waterproof moths, leeks that produce offspring when they are dead, information that must be kept secret, and doctors who won't believe their patients. It all adds up to a strange world.