Month: February 2017

The Sun

Rat Catcher, Going Postal
A long solar filament erupted and rushed away from the Sun (Oct. 15, 2002)

Ask anybody about the workings of the Sun and some will say that it relies on nuclear fusion for its energy output and there will be nods of agreement and then the conversation will turn to what nice teeth that wonderful Mr. Cox has and isn’t Stargazing live the best television ever apart from the need for Dara OBriain to make poor jokes. But is there more to the operation of the Sun? Well of course there is but it’s not so straightforward so here’s a brief explanation of some of its working.

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Coincidence, chance and fate

Here in my little corner of France, we have a communal forest, it is around 200 acres and as a resident i have the right to search for mushrooms and can join La Chasse I used to go tracking with them but seeing how much pastis is quaffed at mid day I think better of it now and I dont know enough about mushrooms to gather them without having to go to the local pharmacy and have them checked if they are edible or not (yes the pharmacist will do that for you here).

But the other thing we get is that although the forest is managed by ONF, the Office nationale des forets, they cut the huge old trees, oaks are typically 150 years old, we get to chop up the crowns and these are distributed amongst those of us who wish to take a share.

Anyway back in 2012 I was allocated a huge old beech, around 1.2m in diameter, still standing as it happened,(they only take the straight ones to sell) and off i went with chainsaw etc.

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The Nuremberg Raid – Part One, The Target for Tonight

Blown Periphery, Going Postal

The Target

Just before 0900 on the morning of the 30th March 1944, one of the most controversial military commanders of WW2 walked down the steps to his underground headquarters.  The bunker was concealed in the beech woods on the crests of the Chiltern Hills, four mile north-west of High Wycombe and it was the headquarters of RAF Bomber Command.  He was Air Chief Marshall, Arthur Travis Harris, Commander in Chief, RAF Bomber Command.  He was known as “Bomber Harris” by the press and the civilian population, “Butch” by his contemporaries because of his bluff, forthright manner and “Butcher Harris” by many of his aircrews.

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