Long Distance Banking

One of the worries that we had when we embarked on our big trip across the pond was the whole problem of banking, e.g. being able to manage our financial affairs in a reasonably efficient fashion from a distance. I am happy to say that so far things have gone fairly well. Direct deposit makes a big difference of course, and the bank that we use has a very good online banking web site-- we can do nearly anything we need to via the web. The one thing we had been concerned about was depositing checks, but in fact, we have discovered that you can now deposit checks on-line as well, if you have a PC and a scanner. This morning I took a smallish check made out to Amy, got her to endorse it, wrote the appropriate magical incantations on the back, ran it through the scanner, and voila, transaction complete (or at least that's what the web page says-- we'll have to wait a couple of days to make sure). Makes me wonder whether I'm ever going to wind up setting foot inside a bank office ever again (at least after the account is opened).

The local banking scene is of course still pretty grim. Just when you think that there can't be anything left to melt down that hasn't already melted down, there is a new gloomy story in the paper about something bad happening to some British bank somewhere. Our own bank (RBS, which owns NatWest) is supposedly getting ready to accept a humiliating second major cash infusion from the government, and it is rumored that it will be posting a 20 billion (yes, billion with a B) pound loss for the quarter. Ugh.

Attack of the Peculiar British Dishes

Amy and I were invited to a Burns Night dinner this past weekend at the house of one of Ethan's classmates. It was a very nice dinner indeed, although the centerpiece of the meal was, of course, haggis. This was actually the first time I had ever been served the dish, so made an honest effort to ingest as much of it as I could. Amy chose to bathe her portion with whiskey, but I decided that I would just have it plain this time around (mental note for next time: try the booze). The particular haggis that we ate was a McSweens, which from what I hear is a fairly authentic and even somewhat upscale rendition of the dish, so I suppose that's a good thing. Verdict? Hmm, I think I may stick with the nice British sausages here...



Meanwhile, on the vegetable front, I bought my first bag of Purple Sprouting Broccoli at the Cambridge farmer's market stand this morning. It's definitely a weird name-- every time I hear it for some reason it makes me think of the Monster Raving Loony political party. From what I have been able to find by looking online, PSB has a long history (the Romans apparently grew it) and has recently begun enjoying a sort of renaissance in England. It has a distinct season (winter only) and is very "local"-- all of the PSB you find in stores is grown in the UK. I nibbled a little bit on the way home (not terribly exciting so far); I'll wait to wait and see how it turns out tonight at the dinner table.

Newspapers

The newspapers here in the UK have been fun to read and experiment with. Back in the states, you typically have to decide between getting the "local" paper like the Boston Globe (the obvious benefit being that you can keep up to date on city politics and regional happenings) or opting for one of the more national papers (New York Times, Wall Street Journal, USA Today, etc) that has more expansive national coverage. This has always been a tough choice.

Here in the Cambridge, there is no such dilemma-- pretty much all the papers are national (it's a small enough nation), and there are scads of them: the Sun, the Telegraph, the Daily Mail, the Guardian, the Times, and so on. So far we have bought mostly the Times, although every now and then I buy the Guardian just to be contrary. The Times is now owned by Rupert Murdoch, so I am constantly on alert for signs of "Murdochish" influence in the editorial pages and the coverage. Ethan likes the sports pages in the Times, and I have to agree; they do a lovely job covering football and rugby. They also have a very lavish Sunday edition (maybe even a little too lavish-- it almost seems like a different paper, with huge color photographs of this and that).

The Guardian is an interesting paper-- it is very left-leaning, of course, and always focusing on various liberal/progressive causes of one sort or another. It does tend to get a little dry, but every now and then they publish something that really knocks your socks off. In this Tuesday's edition they had an extraordinary article written by Lasantha Wickrematunga, the editor of the Sri Lankan newspaper "The Sunday Leader". This guy suspected that he was going to be a target (the media is under immense pressure from the government there), and sure enough, he was indeed killed, at which point they published a piece he had written just a few days earlier, specifically penned for posthumous publication. Whatever other bad things you can say about the USA, at least we don't have to worry about having our journalists bumped off.

Books

I have joined a book club here in England; I have to say that I am really enjoying it. It meets once a month, either in a cafe in downtown Cambridge, or in a pub on Cherry Hinton Ave (southwest of the downtown area). There are about 12 members; we usually get around 6-8 people each meeting.

Here are some of the books that we have read:

"The Photograph" by Penelope Lively
"Arthur and George" by Julian Barnes
"The Rain Before it Falls" by Jonathan Coe
"The Falls" by Ian Rankin

A lot of the books we read are things that were short-listed for the Man Booker prize (or some other English award), but the main criteria seems to be that the library has to have a lot of copies of the book. During the meetings we talk about the books; each person voices his or her opinions, and we assign a numeric rating to the book (1-10). It's surprising what a different range of opinions you can get on a single book (for the Jonathan Coe book, we had several 2's and several 9's).

Other reading outside the club: "The Anglo Files" by Sara Lyall (funny but somewhat caustic take on things British written by a long-time American ex-pat), "Inkheart" by Cornelia Funke (one of Ethan's books), "Fablehaven" by Brandon Mull (another one of Ethan's books), and "Howl's Moving Castle" (a book I tried to get Lydia to read, but she rejected it). I think I am going to have to start being more careful about recommending books to my kids-- these days it seems that the fact that I am offering a book is one strike against it. I may need to start applying full-blown reverse psychology before too long.