Cooking up a storm

It’s a very wet Sunday afternoon here watching the rain as the remains of Hurricane Bertha pass by (having watched “My Fair Lady”, I thought that in Hertfordshire, Herefordshire and Hampshire hurricanes hardly ever happen? Why did I move to Yorkshire then?) So my mind has turned to cooking: we have a brand new pestle and mortar and we’re not afraid to use them! So here’s my three step guide to making two of my favourite things: pesto and hummous.
Pesto:
Step 1: Grow some basil
I’m working on this one. I have lots of little pots lined up and seeds to sow, but today isn’t exactly ideal sowing weather so I have cheated a little: basil leaves from “The Nursery” on Knapton Lane a few streets away where an amazing couple produce vast quantities of organic fruit, veg and eggs from a rambling garden big enough to get lost in (I know this because they opened up the garden under the National Gardens Scheme last year!) One thing I love about being near the countryside is that people are much more willing to sell their produce on an honesty basis: there’s a signboard outside that says what’s available and you put the money through the letterbox.

If there is no home for nature..

If there is no home for nature

There will be no evening starling chatter,

Nor swifts left to soar.

There will be no hedgehogs nestled in your garden,

No woodlands to explore.

Spring will pass without a bluebell,

And June without a bee.

Butterflies will flounder without a flower,

And the birds without a tree.

If there’s no home for nature,

The wonders on our doorstep will diappear.

There will be no place to play,

No meadows. No moorlands. No wilderness. No adventure.

If there’s no home for nature,

There will be no nature.

This poem was printed in the Guardian last week, and struck me to the core, the last couplet ringing in my ears long after I had read it.

A new economics?

This week I bought an excellent book by economist Ha-Joon Chang  called "Bad Samaritans: Rich Nations, Poor Policies and The Threat to the Developing World". I'm looking forward to reading it, as his other book "23 Things They Don't Tell You About Capitalism" is one of my favourites. On the other hand, I'm feeling somewhat jaded by the effusive comments on the back cover about these new and compelling ideas. I don't want to knock the ideas themselves, but I would contest the concept that they are new.
In fact, for the past 15 years I have campaigned about global injustice based on the evidence through which Christian Aid, WDM and many others have prominently and repeatedly demonstrated that the free market policies and privatisation forced onto poor countries by richer ones damage the countries forced to adopt them.

Of Rationality, Engineering and Faith

On Sunday I joined the audience for “The Big Questions”, a BBC2 debate filmed in York to be broadcast Sun 4th May at 10am. I listened to a range of speakers (including author Alastair McGrath, who was sitting in front of me) on the question, “Is it rational to believe in God?”

This got me thinking that in matters of both faith and engineering, reason can only take you so far, because there are limits to what we can know. Every day I try to apply scientific principles to model how a structure or slope will work, based on the evidence I have been able to obtain. But can we ever truly predict the loads that will be applied to a structure or the worst credible weather event that might occur? And performance will be significantly affected by how people actually use or maintain the structure over its 120 year design life, which might be completely different to what we expect (could the Victorians have predicted the rise of the motor car?)

Learning to see

Having celebrated the joyful hope of new life at Easter with a great feast at my brother's house (thanks Mick!) I have a new challenge for the next seven weeks up to Pentecost: I want to learn to recognise more wildlife.

As an engineer, it's obvious that I notice different things than other people in the landscape because I know what I'm looking for and I'm interested in what things are for. So on train rides, I notice radio masts, retaining walls and rock netting and as a cyclist I know every set of traffic lights on my routes around York. I know which ones are old fashioned and based on a fixed sequence and timing, which are camera controlled (eg PUFFIN crossings which allow elderly and disabled people more time to cross) and which rely on pressure pads in the road to detect traffic wanting to turn (which don't work when you're not as heavy as a car!)

But while I enjoy seeing flowers in gardens and have learned to tell the difference between a courgette and a bean plant by growing them myself, I often don't know the names of the trees, plants, butterflies and birds I see every day when out and about - and I think that's a shame.

Can we engineer an environmentally responsible HS2?

On the HS2 front, I think we should take the position of a "critical friend" - my previous post argues that there is a genuine need to be addressed and therefore I believe we should support the principle of building new rail capacity (it's not a vanity project as some have characterised it), but the detail of where and how we build it needs a lot of careful thought. Route selection for London to Birmingham is slowly getting there, but the preferred route for the sections further north is still under discussion and we can have an influence here (the route will eventually go to Manchester and Leeds and then on to Scotland). 

Should an environmentalist support HS2?

I have promised previously to write about HS2 and this week presented an opportunity as I debated the issue with friends from Christian Ecology Link. The discussion was sparked off by a recent Guardian article which concluded that “areas of irreplaceable natural value along the planned HS2 route, including 48 ancient woodlands that are home to rare bats and butterflies would be damaged by just phase one of the route (London to Birmingham)”. So is it possible to justify such destruction and still call myself an environmentalist?