A ladybird problem and an excess of dry goods at Bridge Farm, Ambridge (Rousse)

While a guest of Pat and Tony Archer at Bridge Farm I supervised some final year undergraduates as they completed a maths and genetics project. The assessment task involved the breeding of super-strength ladybirds and storing them in jars. In each jar you had to double the number of ladybirds. So, in the first jar there was one ladybird, in the second two, in the third four, in the fourth eight, in the fifth sixteen and so on.

In the last stage of the work the students had one jar left to fill. This was the fourth one, where eight ladybirds were required. A sole member of the team was charged with this task: a tall, lanky, blond lad with very little to say for himself. I helped by chasing around the room and catching the airborne ladybirds in my cupped hands. Unfortunately I held them too tight and crushed them into a blackened mess. There were no other ladybirds left to catch. This was a crisis: the students were eight insects short of completing the project.

Although normally I would not condone cheating, my part in the ‘failure’ of the task led me to suggest that the student raid the 1024 jar for eight ladybirds. I was pretty sure that the markers wouldn’t bother to count the insects in the larger jars, whereas they would certainly do this for the smaller ones.

Later, when checking for some basic cooking ingredients in the kitchen, I was surprised to find huge quantities of dry foods such as pasta, rice and pulses stockpiled at Bridge Farm. It looked like Pat Archer had not done any home cooking for years.

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Goth drag queens and yellow pigeons (Rousse)

TPR held my hand tightly as we walked along the dark street. Although the many passers-by frightened me due to their appearance, I was fascinated by the beautiful Goth drag queens.

When we emerged into the sunny square at the end of the street we were overwhelmed by hundreds of bright yellow pigeons.

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Between Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant: another Dr Who (Rousse)

Few know that between Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant there was another Dr Who: Scottish student JM.

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A dearth of decent restaurants in Harrogate (Rousse)

My step-mother-in-law organised a reunion in Harrogate. For a tourist town it lacked a decent restaurant. We tried two establishments but left each of them before a morsel of food was served simply because the waiting staff failed to come over and take our order.

We changed our plan and decided to buy takeaway fish and chips. This was a pity because for the first time in months XY seemed to be enjoying herself at the table.

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Doctoral degree entry requirements: Oxford and Edinburgh (Rousse)

All the others were clutching revision notes as we entered the exam hall. I had nothing in my hands because I had done no preparation whatsoever. So what if SH got a first and I failed?

Then I started to panic. How would I get onto the PhD programme at Edinburgh or Oxford without even a first degree?

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Unhelpful underground officials at Heathrow (Rousse)

The two London Underground officials at Heathrow Airport were hopeless. When I asked them which service ran to Kings Cross they simply laughed, then took another puff on their ridiculous pipes.

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Harold Wilson’s women (Rousse)

Harold Wilson had a wife and a mistress, yet I still accepted his generous invitation to become his girlfriend. (That he was dead was an irrelevant detail.)

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A car accessory catalogue obsession (Rousse)

TPR had a new hobby – cropping pictures of petrol cans from car accessory catalogues and reassembling them as colour-coordinated collections in Mac photo albums.

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Topless waitress survives tsunami (Rousse)

I’d got into the habit of going topless – everywhere. At Friday morning meetings my colleagues just ignored my bare breasts and didn’t pass comment. However, when I applied for a job as a waitress at a luxury tropical hotel my section supervisor had words with me. This was not a topless establishment. His other concern was that I learn to pronounce his African name properly.

My stint as a waitress didn’t last long due to the tsunami. Fortunately TPR and I were prepared for it because we were time travellers. Just before the massive wave hit we raced to the top floor of the hotel to shelter.

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ISIS ambitions thwarted (Rousse)

My father accepted an invitation to travel to Australia to fight ISIS. He was just about to set off when I pointed out that he wouldn’t get very far without a passport or visa.

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