justlikeDennis.COM

Blurry vision but trying real hard to see

On Saturday, I awoke early and headed to the University underpass to find the bus. The schedule online listed a 6:40am but on the underpass schedule no listing.

It came.

I walked around the quiet downtown Lancaster and finally headed to the rail station. The train was scheduled to leave for Skipton at 8:05. Due to rail work on the weekend, tour-type buses were in their stead. It was just as well as it was a very comfortable bus with few people. I set in the front seat with a splendid view through clean windows. The ride on country roads to Skipton made the 1 hour 20 minutes pass nicely.

I then immediately caught the train at 9:28 to Keighley (pronounced Keithley). That took 10 minutes. I walked the ramp over the rail to the Keighley and Worth Valley Line which is the old restored steam train rail running to Haworth (pronounced Howith), my destination. I took the first train of the morning which was an old round-nosed, green, diesel single car, enter in the middle with seats looking either way left or right of center. The interior was wooden with a tiny old driver in conductor-like outfit.. Lovely as they say here.

We rhythmically galloped to each stop, Ingrow West, Damens ( a tiny one car long stop), pass the old switch house where the bypass rail is constructed. Here the workers exchange a steel handled black leather bag, uniquely assigned to each train, to ensure two trains are never heading toward each other on the same rail. Then onto Oakworth (station of the Railway Children fame - 1970 film) and then at Haworth I disembarked. I walked across the street to a tiny Cafe and had two fried eggs, bacon (actually what I call Canadian bacon) and a cup of coffee.

Then with the help of a brochure promoting sites from the film, Railway Children, I headed on a hike to the next and last station, Oxenhope. The landscape was green and saturated so I slogged along well-worn foot paths across empty pastures with the rail in sight. Streams of water worked their way through tiny reservoirs denting the hillside pasture ensuring a saturated green. At the top of one ridge steadily turned three giant blades atop a white column. This tower of a new age quietly marked time as I passed in site of its occassional shadow.

The first steam train of the morning was pulling a workman's cart and crane heading toward the final station, and it was a lovely view of the moorland hills, snaking beck (creek); two workman in orange working the rail, and spongy field around.

I passed an old abandoned stone farm house with slipping flagstone roof and surrounded by winter growth and languidly guarded by an ancient knarled tree waving its few brown leaves. Over a moss-covered stone stile and down to the valley across this steel bridge and I was in sight of the Oxenhope terminal. The steam train was ahead hitched to five passenger cars. I waited and watched it blow its great pillar of white and gray passing me with a toot on it whistle. Then I waded through another gooey trail up to the town over a bridge and into the station. Just then a downpour of rain and pea-sized hail drove me to shelter. I slipped into a garage/exhibit hall with three rows of engines and carriages. One old black 0-6-0 sported the grin of a Thomas face but maybe not Thomas as he is blue. The Gentleman's coach stood quietly made famous for some minutes in the Railway Children.

I headed back the other side of the valley toward Haworth. I passed the house, Three Chimneys, which played the role of the children's home in the film, obscured now and hiding behind great hedge, past the Hole Village, which has a number of cottage rents and would make a very fine place to vacation. Then past the trail marker to Top Withens (3.5 miles). This is the ruin of the house up in the Moors which is thought the inspiration for Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. A few more minutes and I was at the Bronte Parsonage Museum (closed for January). I walked the neighboring cemetery with its paving of great engraved stone and large flagstones of memorial swaying and sinking imperceptibly. It is not hard to imagine the mid 19th century in this village. With the dark clouds and passing squalls over wet mounds of brown ferny moor, Emily's muse, dictated the very soul of this place.

By way of cobbles, a stop in the church beside, where lie the Bronte family and then into the village past both stolid and twisted pubs, inviting tea shops and bakeries. I then headed down Butt Lane to Haworth station. The steam train was arriving from Keighley and I stood on the overpass and watched it load and chuff on, the driver pulled back on the level for just the moment he rolled the engine under the overpass, saving me from being engulfed in the cloud.

I headed then by road and muddy river path, past huge stone undershot mill factories of Dickensonian Britain to Oakworth. This station is just as it might have been found in 1900 with gas lanterns outside and coal fire inside tended by a keeper. I took the returning train back to Keighley. Bye old iron engine and your Moorland round.

I took the modern train for the 10 minute ride to Skipton. The electronic signs inside the car spelled out "Please alight here" as we arrived. I think that "alight" is not part of the active American lexicon.

I headed up hill via the canal path and then High street to the Skipton Castle. Five pounds and I was in at 3:30, half hour before closing the entrance. A delightfully preserved authentic, historically important fortified home. Inside a mediaval courtyard grows the biggest yew tree I have every seen. Then back to the Train station via a grocery store.

The 5:35 pm bus departed for Lancaster in the dark. Fine day!

I met with Mark on Thursday and we reviewed my thesis outline. I hope to have a submission ready by next Tuesday toward upgrade.

Rick Conrad, who he and his family are studying in Aberdeen, Scotland, tried to meet today in Edinburgh but his schedule would not permit. Maybe another time....

Today I will attempt to survey literature regarding Discourse Analysis. I hope I can keep up the momentum gained these 3 weeks here in Lancaster.

Yesterday, I went to a seminar on Politics and Language Testing given by Charles Alderson.

I went to the Lancaster Methodist Church in town this morning 10:30. Their two house groups conducted the service. It was quite enjoyable with small orchestra and contemporary and traditional music and skits. Afterward was a fellowship meal and coffee. I didn't attend this. In the afternoon I listened to the 3rd and final part of Radio 4's drama, Pilgrim's Progress. It was very well done.

My weight is back down to 189 this morning. I had gone down to 184 in September and then up to 194 or more in December. I am now trying the Atkins approach to low carb diet and see if that will provide a more stable way to reduce weight.

I met Thursday 11am with Mark Sebba. We chatted with little substance or direction as usual. I will try to put together a portfolio for upgrade before I leave.

Friday in the library and computer lab working. I am reading for entertainment; Shakespeare's plays....

Tonight, Saturday, I went to a film on campus.

I received a envelope from the children today. Very cute pictures. Colin via Sheri wrote a story about the cars in his picture. I liked it much as well as the drawings from both of them. I am missing home.

Last Sunday, I attended the evensong service at the Priory in Lancaster. It was very 17th century but restful. The minister read a 10 minute sermon on the implication of the symbol of death found in baptism. Mid-stream he interjected, "I pulled the short-straw on this sermon". This did the lend support the the counter-view that high church liturgy is a valid form of worship for the serious evangelical.

On Tuesday, I boared a double-decker bust to the Lakes District witht he intent to visit the Wordsworth Museum. I did see Dove Cottage and saw the Wordsworth graves in Grasmere, but everything was closed for winter maintenance. I took the bus the few minutes to Rydal where Wordsworth also lived. Also closed. I hiked over field to Ambleside and was rained upon upon arrival. Then ferry to Bowness. I hiked up to Windermere station and bussed back to Lancaster in the dark. My walk uphill to Windemere gave occassion for my mind to wander and I thought of a tall tale of a serpent and a boy and jotted it down on the bumpy bus ride home (1000 words or so).

Wednesday, I assembled a notebook of thesis work to date (quite sorry affair) as I will meet Mark Sebba today, my advisor.

Another nail in the medical myth coffin....

http://observer.guardian.co.uk/uk_news/story/0,6903,1101680,00.html

titled: "Revealed: how drug firms 'hoodwink' medical journals"

An abstract:

"Revealed: how drug firms 'hoodwink' medical journals

Pharmaceutical giants hire ghostwriters to produce articles - then put doctors' names on them

Antony Barnett, public affairs editor
Sunday December 7, 2003
The Observer

Hundreds of articles in medical journals claiming to be written by academics or doctors have been penned by ghostwriters in the pay of drug companies, an Observer inquiry reveals.
The journals, bibles of the profession, have huge influence on which drugs doctors prescribe and the treatment hospitals provide. But The Observer has uncovered evidence that many articles written by so-called independent academics may have been penned by writers working for agencies which receive huge sums from drug companies to plug their products.

Estimates suggest that almost half of all articles published in journals are by ghostwriters. While doctors who have put their names to the papers can be paid handsomely for 'lending' their reputations, the ghostwriters remain hidden. They, and the involvement of the pharmaceutical firms, are rarely revealed.

These papers endorsing certain drugs are paraded in front of GPs as independent research to persuade them to prescribe the drugs.

In February the New England Journal of Medicine was forced to retract an article published last year by doctors from Imperial College in London and the National Heart Institute on treating a type of heart problem. It emerged that several of the listed authors had little or nothing to do with the research. The deception was revealed only when German cardiologist Dr Hubert Seggewiss, one of the eight listed authors, called the editor of the journal to say he had never seen any version of the paper. "

I left from Harrisburg, PA on Dec 31 to Philadelphia. The Philly flight was delayed and I had to wait 6 hours to leave. Because I have a bad head cold I slept fitfully on the flight and zombied from Manchester, UK to Lancaster UK via train. Then a 10 pound, 3 mile taxi ride to the university. I called home and announced my arrival and went directly to bed.

Finally, on Monday (Jan 5) with still a worse head cold, I made an appointment at the campus clinic. The DRAMA continues.....

Sunday late I called Sheri. They went to Mt. Vernon than visited with Dave and Judy and Mom and Dad. They had a good day. Colin had a long conversation with me. This is the first time it was clear he was missing me.

I sense I might get sufficiently motivated to advance on this dissertation if I can get over this dibilitating head cold.