Dinosaurs…for Christmas?

 The wee ones in my family are eager to mix their latest acquisitions from Santa — the Transformers attacked by dinosaurs, or vice versa.

Imagination carries them a long way, from prehistory to the future.

It’s a world class fight, carried on under the dining room table.

As the humongous conflict went on, I took a moment to browse through some magazines I’d missed during holiday preparations.  And wonder of wonder, in the November 2010 issue of the BBC History magazine, p. 68, was the story of Richard Owen, who inveted the word DINOSAUR.

Owen (1804-92) was one of the founders and directors of London’s fantastic Natural History Museum. A paleontologist by profession, Owen and others discussed various theories of evolution, sometimes agreeing with but more often differing with Charles Darwin (1809-1882), a contemporary. The article describes Owen as “notoriously bad-tempered”.  But the fact remains, he invented the word DINOSAUR, from “Greek words meaning terrible great lizard”. 

The article says that Owen wished to disprove evolution, and replace it with his own hypotheses about change. Of course, his was only one of many voices which contested Darwin, and/or tried to explain how animal developments could be aligned with biblical accounts.

Here is the museum, on the Cromwell Road. It is a wonderful place to visit, and many credit Richard Owen, who advocated for its establishment as a separate institution from the British Museum.

Left is Sue, the dinosaur in Chicago’s Field Museum of Natural History, one of many great museums ariound the world that owe their missions to London’s example.
Kids love Sue. And dinosaurs in general.

So thanks, Richard Owen, for your word — and for not being able to counteract Darwin and Huxley after all.  I do wonder what you would think of those transformers!

Homeward Bound

I’m using one of those crazy european keyboards in the private airport lounge so excuse the many typing errors you might find in this post., We have the lounge all to ourselves just now, sitting looking out at the planes on the runway, drinking complimentary rum and cokes at 10:40 a.m. in my case, I’m drinking in the hopes that the rum will mitigate my desolation at having to leave home. greg’s drinking in the hopes that it may help his back over the next 11 hours. in any case, we’re already as good as gone from london. And yes, dear Reader, whilst Greg has no idea (the poor sod) I’m already formulating ideas for my return. In fact, I’m thinking that maybe the next time I return, some of you will be with me. And Victoria. How does a Number One London tour to England sound? Sounds a bit of alright to me, but let me know your thoughts on the idea. Right then, off for another snort, a few tears and then to board. Sigh.  P.S. as you see, I’ve already broken one of my resolutions below by not waiting a month to plan my next trip to merry old. I told you I’m no good at this resolution thing.

Our New Year's Un-Resolutions

As you read this, I’ll be winging the wrong way across the pond in an airplane for eleven hours, but Victoria and I want to take this opportunity to wish each and every one a very happy and healthy New Year and to share our resolutions with you . . . .

Kristine’s Resolutions – Honest to gawd, I can’t think of a single thing I’m willing to make a resolution about. It appears that I’m a truly horrible person. But really, why bother making resolutions that you know at the outset you’ll never keep? I’m not going to stop smoking. Or drinking. I’ve already given up Haagen-Dazs strawberry and rum raisin ice cream – I am not prepared to give up mani’s, pedi’s, massages or Botox. Or Ralph Lauren. Or red meat.

 Or Grey Goose martini’s with blue cheese olives. Which is completely different from the aforementioned drinking, which referred to rum, which you drink. Rather than maritini’s, which you sip.  I’m not going to stop watching reality shows like Real Housewives (all cities), the Kardashians, Salon Takeover, Hoarders, Pawn Stars, etc. Won’t stop buying Artie-facts. Or books. Hmmmmm . . . Oh, I know! I know! I resolve to try and have more patience with annoying people, to wait at least a month after my last trip to England in order to start planning the next and to regularly buy an extra large bag of pet food at the supermarket to leave in the animal shelter donation box by the exit. Phew! Redemption at the very last moment . . . . for a second there I sounded like the female version of Daniel Cleaver. Or (possibly worse yet) Prinny.         

Victoria’s Resolutions

Of course I have a well-ordered, neat list with carefully-researched waypoints to measure my progress.

NOT!!!!

2011 WILL NOT BE THE YEAR I REFORM.

More’s the pity.

I am working on at least four book projects, not to mention organizing all the 35-mm slides my family took for so many years. And researching genealogy.  And thinking (Note: not doing) about finishing the dozen or so quilt tops I pieced years ago. 

And imprinting the grandchildren with all the things I find necessary for their eventual brilliance!

And…and…and…and…

Well, I do have a few specifics, like a cruise from Lisbon to Dover, stopping at several spots in Spain and France before landing in England and putting in some time in at libraries across the southern section of the country.

And speaking at the 2011 JASNA AGM in Fort Worth, TX in October.  And hoping the Sir Thomas Lawrence exhibition comes to New Haven.  And….and…and…

Well, Kristine and I are obviously not cut out for this discipline deal!  Hope you are — but only if you want to be.  I know that as soon as I establish a specific goal, I try to think of a way to sabotage it. Sigh. There’s such a contrary person under my meek exterior.

Seriously, we wish a year of peace and love and satisfaction to all of us.  That should take care of about everything.  Oh yeah, and prosperity (wish I could keep that closer to the top of the list someday). And lots of books. And people you love. And happiness, which to us are Ed and Greg. And future trips to England. Funny the way things always comes back around to England . . . .



New Years Eve in London

After the Rock and Roll tour, took a cab to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese for dinner – again. And even though the concierge had called before hand, they were closed – again. Many others had shown up, too, with no joy. So off to steak house for dinner (porterhouse) and now back in the room, where I already did most of the packing. Went down to bar and brought up a lovely snifter of Hennessy brandy and am having one of the best NYEs ever – watching Mr. Bean on telly, the Royle Family Christmas Special on BBC iplayer, the Fireworks from Dubai and now Coronation Street. You have got to love it. Up early tomorrow for breakfast and then to airport at 9:30. Greg has no idea yet, but I’ve checked us in to the private lounge at the terminal, which should make our wait a bit nicer. Think of me tomorrow, on the plane for 11 and a half hours. I’ve brough my Nook, a real paperback and my needlepoint kit that I just bought, so should well occupied with those and the in flight entertainment. I am bereft at having to leave. Until next time, I’ll just have to close my eyes and think of England. Happy New Year to all. Will be doing longer posts of the points of interest I’ve mentioned in past trip blogs next year, which is now only 3 and a half hours away. Or 8 hours away for you in the States. Cheers!

Just Back From Apsley House

Quick marched there and back – don’t worry, I took lots of snaps for you along the way. Okay, here’s the deal – I’m commandeering the Piccadilly Drawing Room as my bedroom and the adjacent Portico Drawing Room as my . . . drawing room. Lovely views over the Wellington Arch and room enough outside for a balcony. Happy to say that Apsley House was packed with visitors. By the time I arrived, there were no more audio tour handsets. I told the man not to worry, I was probably the one visitor there who didn’t need one. Off now to Tottenham Court Road tube station to catch the Rock and Roll tour. . . .