Diversions Manifold

Stopping for a minute recently from our cross-country skiing in the middle of a snowy Black Forest and listening to the near silence - yes, really listening - was an exquisite experience that reminded me how seldom we get to enjoy the absence of noise. To me it felt strongly of the silence being a clean, fresh and eminently restful pillow for my ears and thence to my brain.   Of course, it was but a fleeting experience and of course we were soon scraping and poking, huffing and puffing, snow-squeaking and technical clothing rustling through the forest, but those few moments of silence, interspersed with the occasional thud of snow falling off the branches and even a timid soundbite of birdsong, provided me with memories that are far more powerful than the photos could ever reproduce.

There was an article in the Economist this week that strongly resonated with me. It concerned the "condition" of synaethsesia , whereby the signal from one sense is interpreted by another. The most famous example is that of seeing sound in colours. The Economist article reported a study into how people link taste with sound. This is something that I have long experienced. Whilst I could never claim to be a good taster, whenever I try to describe a taste, it is usually in terms of a graphic equaliser or in the choir voices - soprano, alto, tenor, bass. The research described in the Economist article ascribes particular taste sensations to types of musical sound - bitterness with the higher strings (I can agree with that on so many levels!), vanilla was most associated with the woodwinds - and brass? Well, they got musk, which I don't fully understand. Photo from  Thara M Flickr  page, Creative commons license Not only that, it worked the other way around to

If there is one principal criticism I would have of my job at the moment, it would be that I do very little thinking at all. Everything I do at work is basically and simply "doing". I feel that I have lost the art of concentration, of battling with difficult problems, of really thinking things through. Photo by Karola Riegler photography Flickr What doesn't help at all at work is that there are too many distractions for me to work effectively. In an attempt to remedy that, I have taken to leaving the phone on its charging station, set to silent, finding an empty meeting room, keeping my email client unopened focussing on a particular task for an hour or two. It seems to work quite nicely, so I'll keep that up as far as I can (or until I get my own office). But the basic problem remains that what I am doing involves very little analytical thinking at all. I am positive that it a good thing to accept back some strain on the brain, something not felt since

On somewhat of a spur of the moment thought over the Christmas holidays, I ended up starting a blog that will focus on my thoughts and observations on engineering; it is what I spend a fairly large amount of my time doing, after all. It's here . Have a look in, though it's fairly unbaked at the moment!

This isn't a deeply thought-through review of 2011, merely a list of a few personal highlights from an eventful year for the family... Meeting up with the family in Istanbul to celebrate Dad's birthday Getting married in the Heidelberg Standesamt Having a second daughter (with complications soon thereafter, but all coming good in the end) Enjoying two months' parental leave during an alas rather insipid Heidelberg summer. Coming along with work, particularly the methods side (drawings change system) and DFMEAs. Not travelling too much or too widely, but still experiencing a blown taxi engine in Romania , seeing a little of Naples , Genoa and Maastricht . Losing my passport just before Christmas. Seeing Saab Cars disappear . Enjoying a wonderfully relaxing Christmas and New Year with the family in Ipswich. Roll on 2012!

Saab cars went into bankruptcy just before Christmas. There is tons about it on the web, so I don't really need to describe the ins and outs of the long and painful slide from being sold by GM to Spyker and "Swedish Automobile," to the rather demeaning attempts at sale to the nobody Chinese firms Pang Da and Youngman. I'm writing about this now because I had to pop into the local Saab dealership in Ipswich to have an engine management problem looked at. (It turns out that the turbo vacuum hose had a small hole in the side, most likely caused by a marten, the famous "Marderbiss" in German.) I had to wait a while, just over an hour, for my car to be looked at and repaired, so I had time to sit in the upstairs waiting area to read a 1987 history of Saab-Scania, and to sit in the latest and last Saab, the 9-5 Aero turbo 4. The book was full of hope and pride of Saab Cars, noting its original raison d'être of being an emergency occupation for thousa

I mentioned that I am home for Christmas. This means that I am at my parents' house with my own family, having made it to England without a full passport. After the initial assurances that my passport would be ready for me well before our travel, I eventually received an email from the lady working on my case that it emphatically would not be ready. I would have to travel up to Düsseldorf to obtain an Emergency Travel Document (ETD) from the British Consulate in person. Actually, I was supposed to have gone to Munich, because that's where British citizens living in Bavaria and Baden-Württemberg are catered for (or "processed", I suppose). But, since Heidelberg is so much closer to Düsseldorf than to the Munich mother-ship, I went there instead. It was an early start, but the weather was good and I made swift process along the Autobahns. Having left at around six o'clock in the morning I arrived just after nine, after battling through the Düsseldorf rush-hour

Back at my parents' house over Christmas, I was (watch out, this is going to get exciting) doing the washing up after my sister had made the dinner. (Just to write "pork chops" does the meal an injustice, but that's basically what it was). The item I cleaned last, because it had now rather unappetising looking bits of wet pastry on it, was the beater from our old Kenwood mixer. As I washed, I remembered how this piece of utilitarian design had always fascinated me through its complexity and simplicity. It is designed as a 'K', instantly bringing the branding to the forefront. Whether or not this is optimal for mixing pastry I cannot say; but it works very well, generally resulting in great cakes, so its impact on the mixing dynamics of pastry is at least not negative. Its complexity is subtle, but everywhere present. It warps in all three dimensions, combining rigorous straight elements with beautiful curves, tubes with flat and developing blades. Some

Last week I was on a business trip to Genoa. I was there to represent the Technology department in the lions den of a quality managers' meeting, as I had been a few years previously in Liège and in Bielsko-Biala. This time around was somewhat more relaxed than the previous few. The quality team had finally accepted our way of working and come round to accepting our thinking behind the complex tolerancing on seemingly simple parts. And to accept the necessity of measuring what we make. Naturally, I had only a little time to experience Genoa itself.  My evening out with the team at a pizzeria in the port at least showed me the way down to the port, so when I escaped an hour earlier than required the next day, I was able to wander down for a quick look in the daylight. The Genoa that I saw had that certain Mediterranean lived-in grandeur that many Italian cities posess; fading architectural glories simply being part of the activity going on in and around them. At least

One of the lovliest traditions that I have come across is the Sankt-Martins-Umzug. Last night (13th Nov) I was reminded how wonderful it is with my eldest proudly parading her owl lantern through the streets of Wieblingen, down to the Kerweplatz where the Feuerwehr had installed a large bonfire and several stands were dotted around selling Bratwurst and Glühwein. Wieblingen Dorf was very well represented with lots of familiar faces as well as the small Blaskapelle playing the St Martin's songs in continuous loop.

Sport, whether played in a team or singly, is essentially a selfish pursuit. I want to get fit, I want to improve my flexibility and coordination, I want to forget work and - well, you know how it is sometimes - I want to forget the family. Lots of 'I's happen, in any case. Bringing up children ends up generating not a little internal tension between selfishness and selflessness, despite the best protestations of celebrities that it has finally taught them to think about others. It is also the cause of some sporting ingenuity.  For example, throwing an 8 kg baby around for a little several times a day helps to keep the upper body muscles active. Hauling two children and a child's bike in a bike trailer is good for the legs and stamina. Not just standing around in the swimming pool, but actively swimming and splashing around expends some energy. My evening rides around the block with the eldest, whilst fun, don't really count other than as chances to get some fresh ai