Extra Note

In case you're not a biologer (nor a Carrollian): the creature sitting in between the Mad Hatter and the March Hare is a Dormouse.

The Story of the Dormouse

First of all, tonight, I would like to thank you for your encouragement in keeping up my daily labour. In does indeed take a (disproportionally) large amount of time (which is why I am thinking of changing its name into Journal), but I do enjoy it, and "when I'm sixty-four" I myself might be just as glad I kept this diary... Anyway: it's always very nice to receive (positive) feedback, be it an "onfatsoendelijke email" (they are among the best, so thank you A/M) or moral support for offenses against the Royal Crown:

"Helaas! Onwillige, maar vooral ook ronduit domme, laag-ge-iq-de, onwetende, je geduld/verdragingsvermogen/en andere-zaken tergende baliebedienden bij de Spoorwegen bestaan overal....!
Het is duidelijk dat dit om een tegenoffensief vraagt! (het vervalsen van treinkaartjes is daar een perfect begin van. En bovendien, dit was geen vervalsen, dit was het overnoodzakelijke verbeteren van de onkunde van een spoorwegmeneer om ernstiger leed te voorkomen. Was je nl. naar het loket terug gegaan, dan was een ambulance nodig geweest, ofwel om jouw zenuwen te kalmeren, ofwel om de 'arme' man bij te staan nadat jij hem was aangevlogen: allebei geen prettige scenario's, lijkt me)"

This piece, by the way, is copyright M. Prins.
And to anwer Ms Prince's questions concerning geology: my special relation to the subject was formed in the first place because at secondary school it was the only section of the geography classes I could bear. Possibly because it forms the missing link between archaeology and astronomy? Furthermore, by spending a few months in dusty cellars in the sole company of inpenetrable grey masses I hope to find out whether I would still find it advisable to devote my last semester at UC to a beginner's course on our "earth and environment". As to M's second question: getting in isn't that difficult really. During the university's introduction week they advertise many kinds of student's jobs in and around Exeter, and I just happened to be one of the persons that sent the museum an e-mail...

Speaking of occupations: I didn't go to ballroom dancing anymore (or "dance sports" as they call it here; what do you think: which sounds more unattractive?). I figured I don't have the time, and I didn't like it that much anyway (due to reasons well obvious to most of you, including the "I won't be led (except by exceptions)"-argument). I also didn't join dancesoc though, because of the same reasons, which probably means that I am spoilt because of the dance teacher I can get in Utrecht (our lovely Mrs Suzan Lemont, also teaching at UC! Don't miss this opportunity!) I concluded to just do here in England what I cannot do anywhere else, because this category of activities is too large already anyway. That means that I go walking along oceany precipites, watch movies that aren't released anywhere else yet, enjoy a rather cute oratorium choir director (but nothing to worry about: it's a boy), and celebrate Devon's hedges during the Devon Hedge Week. In case you didn't notice: that last one's joke. I'm not planning to participate. But they do actually spent an entire week each year here celebrating Devon's hedges, with "events for all the family across Devon", including the Devon Hedge Competition 2006 in two different Classes, a Dartington Dormouse (!) Discovery Day (Do you know what dormice do? Right.), a "two-part day studying and measuring hedge lenghts from old maps/photos and strollling to a viewpoint to record existing hedge patterns", a Great Tree Conference which "introduces the importance of trees and how to look after them"; you can "watch a skilled craftperson restore a neglected hedgerow", or take part in a "practical hedgelaying event for beginners". And much more. And then try to reconcile this information with Bryson's complaints in his Notes from a small island about how the spoilt English neglect their rich hedgerow history... As you see, my own experience until now rather makes me wonder in what lunatic position I have placed myself this time, where members of the general bourgeois public are genuinely interested in the kind of pastime which in any other country would only attract the attention of some biology wackos... which is one of the reasons why I love this country. Apparently on this island those same wackos have succeeded in convincing the masses that these occupations work to increase their cultural and thus symbolic capital. In other words: in England hedgerows are sexy, and wackos are king (which theoretical observation isn't far from the historical truth - see my Story of London Cntd.). (By the way, my language here is a direct consequence of me following music sociology classes with the famous Tia DeNora).
By the way 2: remember to ask me about my level of erotic attraction to hedgerows when I return. After promising to keep a sweet Dutch accent and not go hitch-hiking with scary male serial killers (double pleonasm?) again, this will be my third, and hopefully most easy to fulfil, commitment.