Radar Day By Day

Wet enough to grow rice

2009-03-10T15:49:00.009Z

In recent weeks the weather has said, "Try a bit of this," or "try a bit of that". We've had snow and sleet, sunny warm days and wet dismal ones. Two thunderstorms came and went and as for wind; it has either been calm or enough of a gale to force the trees to curl their roots into the soil for fear of taking off. Yet the spring plants are doing just what they should, catkins are hanging from their twigs and there is a good mountain of frogspawn in the ponds. The little ones were delighted at the weekend as we took over a pair of white ducks from the owner of the last house before the bridge. They have settled well, except that certain little people won't leave them alone - the novelty may pass. A less welcome visitor has been a fox. Not only have we heard it (a bin tipped over) and the unmistakable bark, but yesterday morning we found some hair on the edge of the wire fencing at the chicken enclosure. So we also know Mr or Mrs Fox is taking an interest in our fowl. Naughty!

If every readers visit London it is worth going to Hays Galleria, using many of the buildings from the old Hays Wharf, where in the 19th century, ships from around the world would unload foods for the nation. Today there is an amusing sculpture as a centre-piece. Note the chain. We could probably calculate how much iron wire is needed to make a given length of chain. The Pulse will work on this little problem - with or without any help from younger family members who may or may not think they are good at maths - and report back in a later blog.

The questions the little ones come home from school with amaze The Pulse at times. This week it is how many grains of rice in an egg cup? "That will take forever," was the resigned comment. Then we will have to make the task easier, was the learned response from His Seniorship. "By breaking a large task into smaller steps." So the packet of rice was duly found in a kitchen cupboard, together with an egg cup. With a teaspoon and a small slip of card handy the scientific work could begin. A spoonful of rice was levelled with the card and the contents laid out on the table. Patiently the counting began and an answer obtained. Flat teaspoonfuls of rice were then transferred from the packet directly to the egg cup until it was full. Having a second person standing by avoided any miscounting. Now all we need to do is multiply the number of grains in one teaspoonful with the number of teaspoons needed to fill the cup. "I knew that all along really, was a confident year 5 reply; I just wanted to know whether you knew." Cheeky!

You could get lost in there

2009-02-25T13:57:00.004Z

This family's occasional foray upcountry to visit kin during a holiday period came about last week, and among the endless games of football, looking - again - at family photos and exchange of news about those not present, there were also welcome walks in the fresh air which took everyone who chose to away from the fireside (perhaps these days it should be called away from the radiator-side!) The expansive hills and dales and the crisp cold of the post-snow previous week, did everyone's lungs a power of good. The little ones and their many cousins frequently came upon what they described as lop-sided trees: those which produces masses of branches and twigs on one side of the trunk, but next-to none on the other side. This is a product of the strong prevailing winds, the direction from which is plainly obvious. It struck The Pulse that, for the most part, we see trees as mainly symmetrical plants with the trunk as roughly in the centre, giving equal support to all of the branches, no matter in which direction they spread. Presumably this gives rise to the stick-and-blob paintings with which very young children see trees. So it comes as a surprise when these short trees are encountered, understandably leaning away from the forceful wind. They are certainly far from a satisfying symmetry.

Children love huge numbers, even if they do not fully understand their magnitude. Give them a massive number and put it in some context, and listen to the reply: "Wow!" They are truly impressed. So it was that The Pulse read out an article as we sped home on one of those speedy trains run by National Express. In China there is a bazaar - a kind of market for business people. It contained masses of small manufacturing firms all anxious to sell every imaginable product to every imaginable customer business. Sixty thousand little firms. The halls of this extraordinary marketplace spread over an area the size of 800 football pitches (try 40 pitches long and 20 deep). It is said that a prospective buyer spending only three minutes with each of the manufacturers and who spent eight hours at the market each day, would need to spent more than a whole year to make his or her way round the lot! Makes you wonder about the size of the car park, doesn't it.

Snow and floods - what a week!

2009-02-11T12:02:00.002Z

Well, the school managed to stay open all week, and opportunities were taken for a little creative sculpture - groups of children made their own snowmen around the edge of the small playground. It seems that science experiments were also undertaken about the way snow melts and what happens when it is squeezed hard. The Pulse so wishes he was learning science in a primary classroom again. Mid-week the little ones went armed with a pair of stories about the snow on Thursday morning.

This week everyone is trying to cope with the flooding which inevitably comes with the slightly higher temperatures and continuous rain. All over the world people have to learn to cope with it. Families spend the holidays by and in the largest body of water on the planet; the little ones spend half their lives in the summer months either at the swimming pool or by or in the nearby river. It is just that large volumes of water where they are least expected cause the problems which damage homes and sweep away farm animals. But it shouldn't be a surprise, since all of the usual places around here have their usual share of excess water - including down by the bridge and halfway down the Pulse garden. The chickens are presently on their perches or the upper level, but were seen earlier pecking while wading on the floor. So the water didn't seem to worry them.

The Schools Secretary of the government yesterday announced that school children (why doesn't he doesn't just say children as all children are school children?) should take up cricket to improve their maths. "Playing the game helps develop skills such as managing statistics and working out sums under pressure." Quite. But that can apply to many sports and other games but The Pulse agrees with the principle. Playing games and sports certainly helps this family, and quite apart from score-keeping and the inevitable arguments, everyone is healthy - most of the time - and relaxed. Since the youngest is joining the local juniors cricket club this season he will soon want to be impressing the rest of the family with his current batting average.

Sliding all the way to school

2009-02-03T14:23:00.007Z

Snow comes as a great excitement to children and as an irritant to many adults. If they can't get to work then they may not get paid, or if they do it is often at the expense of a considerable amount of time and effort before repeating the agonising travel in the evening. Both working adults here, the parents of the little ones, seemed extra tired last evening. Fortunately the little ones attend school in the village and many of their teachers live within sledging distance, as it were. The family received an internet alert via the school's website to say the school would open for those who could make it, but urged parents not to deliver their youngsters by car. The Pulse, the little ones and a few of their friends began what became a slow but enjoyable expedition down via the bridge to the school, where the caretaker had cleared a path and laid down some road salt. Yesterday continued as normal for about two-thirds of the children. [So, how many is that for a school of 275 children?]

The chickens were attended to as usual when school was finished. A bucket which had filled with water over recent rains was standing near the shed and this was to be used today to clean down the concrete floor which covers part of their run. Next to it was a bucket placed there on Sunday. Yesterday evening it was full - of snow. The older one lifted both buckets and immediately put them down again. She was surprised that the snow bucket was much lighter yet was just as full as the other. "But snow is made of water too," she said. Of course snow is made of something else as well, and that something else is much lighter. Air. We could measure the difference The Pulse suggested. The difference in mass was staggering, nearly a quarter. Then the younger one pressed the snow down hard and collected more snow from outside until no more could be fitted in. Even then there was a small difference. Their mum called out to inquire whether the chickens had been fed yet. Oh yes, that's what they went out for. As the younger one prodded the broom at the wet concrete he pondered: if snow is lighter than water, is a bucket full of ice also lighter? Hmm, we will have to find out - but not this evening.

At the third wet stroke ...

2009-01-28T12:10:00.006Z

Another wellington boots and umbrella morning as The Pulse walks with the little ones to school - we are practising some times tables as we walk. Games like, can we say the six times table backwards before the next lamp post? Another good one is for The Pulse to say some numbers and they have to call out which table they are in - except that occasionally numbers like 51 and 13 are thrown in to keep them extra alert. There are always two breaks in this routine; one is at the bridge where there is time for reflection (literally), to watch the water flow and the moorhens, swans and coots going about their daily routines. Then there is the essential purchase of the daily paper. Avid readers of this blog will be perplexed because the paper boy (actually paper girl at present) makes her daily drop at the house more or less in time for breakfast. This extra read is taken when the opportunity offers, for a longer read and a more or less straightforward crossword puzzle.

The poster outside the shop announced that octuplets had been born to a mum somewhere in USA. The older one stared and murmured something like, "what? Eight of us to the same mum. How will she cope?" To which yours truly responded, "difficult enough with just a quarter of that number." She smiled coyly.

As we reached the beginning of the green school fence we looked across at the sun dial installed a few years back by the PTA. We all agreed there didn't seem much point when the weather is like this. "Why do we have to put up with all this rain?" asked the younger rhetorically. The Pulse answered anyway. Something to do with it being the same for snow, heat, wind and anything else - nowhere is perfect, and in any case we have waterproof skins and we can dry our clothes; no damage done. Staring more closely at the dial little one the younger: "so you tell me what the time is then?" At that point the bell was rung by one of the year five children without a coat on and the next generation trooped in to dry their clothes and practise their six times table.

In case anyone outside of this soaking wet corner of the UK is remotely interested there was a substantial majority vote against anything which included road humps. So, for the council it's back to the drawing board.

[Sun dial at Milton Keynes]

Vote for the good guy

2009-01-22T11:43:00.005Z

A well-reported event on Tuesday had commentators completely flummoxed. Viewing the assembled populace in the winter cold for the inauguration of the 44th American president, one BBC commentator hazarded a guess at one million, maybe two. Well, one million people is a lot of people to misjudge. If the Pulse attended a sports event and estimated a crowd of 500, maybe a thousand, that's probably acceptable. But to be wrong by a million? Round the kitchen table that evening a grown-up discussion on the subject (the little ones were in bed by this time) resolved that sight estimates of a million people are almost impossible, let alone any larger number. It makes us wonder whether those who know about these things are able to employ any technology to count heads.

It's voting time in this provincial parish - it's all about whether or not the village wants speed humps, chicanes and "gateways" - those white open fences on either side of the road at the boundaries of the village, usually in conjunction with signs which say "Welcome to our village; please drive carefully." Of course, the little ones have a view on this, and they are split down the middle, which creates healthy arguments but at inappropriate times. They are making a prediction on the outcome of the vote and are already predicting who they think will not vote at all. It's a straightforward yes or no, even though some residents The Pulse has been talking to want something, but not what is proposed. Since only adults on the voting list can vote the top two classes at the local school are having a vote of their own based on a certain amount of evidence from traffic surveys, opinion polls outside the local shop last Friday. The policeman came along yesterday to talk to them about speed guns and other wizardry now employed to pull over motorists getting too excited about their speed. Their teacher even worked with a group of them to work out speed through the village over a measured distance and a stop watch. The only problem was, over half of the cars they started to measure turned in at the new car park! Seems there's a lot of maths in a hot issue like this. Anyway, everyone in this particular neck of the woods will have to wait until next Monday to discover the result.

A bucket of the white stuff

2009-01-13T12:41:00.005Z

Well, at last The Pulse can wish everyone a Happy New Year. The little ones are back at school, their parents are at work, and yours mathematically has the house to himself for another hour or two. Instructions have been left, however, to finish moving all of the Christmas decorations into the attic space; next time we look at them the little ones will be another year older - mind you, we'll all be another year older!

One shop we nearly passed last week when we visited town was a seasonal one - a kind of pound shop but mainly games, toys and Christmas things we could buy ready for next year. One item we came across was a book of tear-off bingo slips. Suddenly, The Pulse had one of those rare but brilliant ideas. By using a column at a time this was great practice in mental addition and subtraction. So each evening we all tear off a slip and sit wherever we are comfortable and calculate all sorts of permutations of numbers which appear on our slips. The older little one can work additions horizontally where there may be three or for numbers to add; the younger one circles any of the units digits and multiplies by the other numbers. Ten minutes and then it is often time to eat. Look out for these books.

Everyone enjoyed themselves playing in the snow last week. While it snowed most years on several occasions when The Pulse was in short trousers, it is rare these days for there to be enough of the white stuff to build a snowman with, let alone an igloo. For some reason we worked out how many snowballs it would take to fill the empty bucket standing near the garage. "We've got to each have a guess first." Needless to say none of us was really really close, but it was great fun counting - every ten snowballs we added a small handy and empty plant pot to the pile in case we mis-counted. Returning to collect the bucket for a washing task yesterday evening we discovered that the bucket was slightly less than half-full of water. Now there's a thing. The cat was thirsty? The sun has evaporated some of the water? Someone has used it? Well, there is an explanation and we are talking volume here; air as well as snow. Any ideas? The little ones want to try this investigation again under more controlled conditions - their science lessons obviously come in handy - but The Pulse's estimate is that they will have to wait a very long time.

Just a little present!

2008-12-17T09:59:00.006Z

The Pulse knows that some people have had their Christmas lights working flat out since the beginning of the month (27th November in the case of one family seeking to impress everyone on their way to school. At Chez Pulse the family like to celebrate Christmas and not December, so the decorations and lights go up this coming weekend, and the little ones are just as excited about "doing the tree" as they are waiting for Father Christmas himself. The first set of lights The Pulse can remember was a string of 12 and if you had too many lights on in the house at a time the fuses blew. These days people plug in more and more and still expect it all to work. Last week, it seems, an electricity company dug up the pavement for one man and he got a bigger cable because he was using so much. It's quite easy to work out how much you are using (and quite "green" to get that as low as you can) as long as you know how many watts of energy each item is using - it will be on the item itself. The power supplied to homes is 240 volts. Divide 240 into the number of watts being used. The answer is in amps which is the flow of electric current. Look at it this way: get too many people trying to walk through a doorway at the same time and it all blocks up. Cables get hot when too much current flows through them. To prevent that a fuse blows or an automatic switch triggers. The Pulse showed the little ones how this all happens with batteries and torch bulbs - much safer. Now they make regular visits to the meter to report back on how fast the red light is blinking.

Meanwhile, those rolls of wrapping paper never wrap as many presents as you think. Four metres might seem a lot but what about the width? The length and width of paper needed for one present box will be two times the length and two times the width of the box in both directions - plus some overlap. This is surface area! As their father said this morning before the little ones went off to school: : fewer presents and smaller presents; that will solve the problem." Two open-mouthed offspring stared back in disbelief. "Off you go then and enjoy the class party."

The Pulse family wishes everyone a very happy Christmas, whether you have lots of lights or just a few, small presents or larger ones, one Christmas card or fifty. And as the Pulse's old granny used to say back in the dark ages, always say Thank You.

Christmas on the beach

2008-12-12T14:33:00.004Z

Anyone with a young family will understand - and be in the middle of - a frenetic programme of activities at present, and, as posted last week, this family is no exception. The Pulse has taken charge of (or been given the job of) ferrying the little ones and their father backwards and forwards to a succession of events. Most are within reasonable walking distance, but once tiredness sets in the temptation to drive or be driven is too much to resist. Thus the car, which for months rarely left the garage, has been exercising its horsepower muscles. A short period of calm this afternoon means that yours truly can finally compose his overdue blog.
A bright moment earlier this week prompted discussion in the kitchen (most discussions occur there), which resulted from a Christmas card winging from Australia. Although the card was typically Victorian English - country cottages, snow-covered roof, a Christmas tree outside with Father Christmas, and everyone wrapped up against the cold - the writer, who is an old friend of The Pulse who emigrated a decade ago, told of their family's intention to spend Christmas Day on the beach. The little ones couldn't understand how this was possible "because it's not warm at Christmas" Every festival, celebration or holiday period comes with its own expectation of weather. If you live in the UK that's how it is; cold at Christmas; warm and sunny in July. If you live in Sydney or Karachi, Los Angeles or Tokyo you will get used to other expectations. The family might just ferry ourselves off to a Christmas Day beach somewhere just to prove that what they can do down under ... but we might just keep our coats and scarves on!
Questions from seven or eight year olds just come out of the blue: "How many stamps could I stick on the envelope GD?" We were part-way through a Christmas card writing session. "Just the one, that's all it costs." "No, but how many COULD you get on the envelope?" Now The Pulse saw where the question was leading. Well, let's lay a line of stamps out on top of the envelope and count them. Now let's do the same on the short side. Multiply the two numbers and there's your answer. Area, you see, like floor tiles." "Now I can work out how much it would cost, GD" "In that case," Pulse answered, "you pay for your own stamps; until then, it's just the one, ok?" Good question though.

Starring roles

2008-12-02T13:57:00.006Z

Life in the Pulse household has begun to ratchet up a gear or two this week, with yours truly being the only member of the family not taking part in some kind of public performance during the next month. The little ones both have parts in their school's festive production - and the youngest also in the concert nativity - while their parents are playing oboe in a Christmas Eve concert and playing an "oh yes he is" part in the panto being performed jointly by local drama enthusiasts and the high school. It really is quite difficult to avoid talking of the C(hristmas) word at present, much as we all try. So The Pulse has got out his photo album (at least, the screen version) to look back at the mellow month of October when the family made one of its regular trips to the metropolis. The family has not wandered around Kew Gardens for some years, and the little ones were excited at the prospect of climbing up to the treetop walk. The Pulse has to confess, he was looking forward to it as well. On a beautifully bright half-term morning we entered in our boots and spent a stimulating time kicking and picking up leaves and photographing bark patterns. From the tree tops it becomes clear what advantages our squirrels have. Trees hide and reveal vistas, and they provide different angles on surrounding subjects. Where else can you photograph ground activity from such an angle? You can honestly say you have touched the leaves growing twenty metres above the ground. A tall story indeed!

There has been an interruption to the viewing as the older little one needs a prop. Now, what else would you need a garden cane, a piece of cardboard and some kitchen foil for? That's right a C(........) star. So we set about the task, drawing two circles, one inside the other using different sized plates. It has to be a 5-pointer apparently. Divide 5 into 360 and the answer is 72 degrees. She measured and marked 72 degrees all around the outer circle, and ruled lines between each of these points and halfway between them on the inner circle. A pair of scissors and, voila, a 5-pointed star. Covered in foil and stapled to the cane it was ceremoniously carried in to school yesterday, only to be returned at teatime. "Mrs Mason says it has to be bigger." Well does she now? That's the problem when the instructions are incomplete. Anyone got another piece of - larger - cardboard?

Coffee time minus the coffee

2008-11-25T11:35:00.005Z

You can forget the number-crunching that's been going on in Parliament last and this week. They love talking big numbers - billions and trillions. In this household we've been going through a bit of number-crunching of our own. The kitchen table has become a smaller version of the Cabinet table - except round - and discussions just as serious have been conducted accompanied by tea and toast. We've even been joined by next door at times when The Pulse has noted it's betwixt breakfast and elevenses. The little ones' father has taken to dropping a new word into conversations: "minus", as in "I'm minus at the moment but will have to pay him back next week." In fact, most of the conversations recently have centred on "minus". The shopping bills have been greater than budgeted for, so mum is "minus". The latest energy bills have come in at greater amounts than are in the ring-fenced account, and the pennies in there are "minus". The little ones have even caught the bug and suggested their pocket money is now "minus", since what they spent last week when they spent on a couple of early Christmas presents for their parents was more than they had in their pockets. That's why The Pulse is also "minus" this week because he helped to pay for these gifts. The Pulse thought it was about time the little ones were introduced to the idea of minus on a thermometer - timely, since the temperature out here in the countryside descended a couple of degrees below zero the night before last.

Down at the country park a group of local archaeologists and practical historians have been spending their free time this summer constructing three very different accommodations of a well-ventilated kind which would have been common in the iron age. None would pass the planning and building regulations nowadays, but the little ones' mum took them on one or two occasions to join in some of the activities, the best of which, according to them, although The Pulse wouldn't necessarily agree, was mixing mud and straw together and hurling it at the outside walls. Wood was collected and a rather smoky fire lit. They sat around the edge and listened to stories, while sipping a modern version of mead. As the youngest said, "it was really orange squash." "And I got one of the questions right! They asked what shape the house was and I said a cone." Apparently the right answer was a round house, but he, correctly, argued that his grandad had told him the roof was cone-shaped and that was a better answer. So, naturally we had to agree that the whole house was a flat cylinder with a cone on top. That's certainly not "minus". Unless, of course, the roof blows off.

Normal, what's normal?

2008-11-18T11:40:00.006Z

The Pulse welcomes readers back to another season of posts from the rural provinces of middle Britain, where life remains quite normal: the post office has been listed for possible closure; the last bank (Tuesday and Thursday mornings only) has pulled out; and both of the regular bus routes which pass through have gone from hourly to two-hourly - last journey around five-thirty. The village has one of the widest high streets the reader is likely to come across but someone with a pot of yellow paint has "double-lined" it from one end to the other. And the reason? A car park has just been laid out on part of the children's rec behind the high street, courtesy of the district council - for which there is the princely charge of 20p per hour. Fifty spaces, and if they were all filled for the length of the working day ... yes, the little ones were given this task at the weekend as we watched the little machines flattening the bitumen surface. They've come up with an answer for a full year. Oh, and charges still apply on Sunday. As the youngest said: that's a lot of pocket money. Don't even think about it little scamp!

There is a regular routine - because both of the children are avid drawers and painters - which consists of endless twisting of hands as coloured pencils galore are sharpened and re-sharpened. Is it just The Pulse's imagination or are pencils leads more fragile than they used to be? Each of the little ones must have at least five pots of pencils of assorted colours and thicknesses scattered around the house. So this coming weekend, if it proves to be a wet one, we will attempt a little maths investigation: which pot has the shortest and longest pencil; and what is the average pencil length in each pot?

Averages became a topic of conversation last week on a walk when the little ones complained they had to "do" more steps than their father who, it has to be admitted, does stride ahead purposefully. So, while resting near the squirrels in the park we took turns to walk a fixed distance between two trees while the others counted the number of steps they took. The Pulse then introduced the little ones to the idea of average, and they suddenly realised their steps were not far from average length, and that The Pulse has a pace almost exactly the same length as the 9 year old. Age doesn't count here, thank goodness!

Rain rain go away

2008-09-06T09:23:00.003+01:00

The little ones are back at school, their parents are at work and the rain clouds are queueing up to deliver their loads of wet stuff over us. The view over the garden is through a myriad of streaking rain drops on the window - too many to count, of course, and in any case they form, break up and re-form so counting would be impossible. Once more it has not been possible to avoid switching on the desk light if The Pulse wishes to read anything at all. Depressing ? Well, yes, in a way; but on the other hand you just have to get on with it. So it's a day for jobs, those tasks which have been waiting for such a day. At least there will be no organising the work around other members of the family. You know the kind of thing. Can't drill near the kitchen while mum's cooking; can't tidy in the living room while the little ones are treating it as a Lego construction site; can't switch off the mains power while dad needs the computer to inspect the day's spreadsheets from the office; and The Pulse can't put up the shelf in the spare bedroom because there was one bracket missing and he hasn't driven into town yet to get one - in many places you have to wait until there there are also other items to go into town for in order to make it worth while. Today none of those excuses apply, so, here goes.

Last week, just before the end of the holiday the family was walking along the river bank, watching other locals boating, fishing, walking and cycling. The little ones' mum was pointing out the underwater plants leaning in the direction of flow. "How fast is the river flowing?" asked the youngest. So the family agreed to find out. It's not the kind of information you can ask anyone else or find on a notice board. You just have to work it out. So each child stood approximately ten metres apart; a large leaf was dropped in and the time taken for it to float down stream from one child to the other measured. The distance and the time was multiplied up to 1 km and we discovered a fairly gentle two km per hour (approximately). We certainly left the leaf behind quite quickly when we walked on. It turned out to be the only warm sunny day for the past two weeks.

This way to the big church

2008-08-30T10:15:00.004+01:00

The Pulse family has never gone in for Sat Nav. This is partly to do with such a device being rather low in the family's spending priorities - the actual cost of transport itself coming a lot higher. Although the children and grandchildren do not always agree The Pulse had always spent money only when something is needed, not just when it's wanted. The car has always been full of useful maps and everyone in the family can read them. Those days spent accompanying backpacks to the tops of hills and along country lanes have always been with map and compass in hands. When recently in the metropolis the family were temporarily disorientated having emerged from a tube station the youngest little one spied a map post and within a few seconds had worked out where he was, the destination (St Paul's Cathedral), and which roads needed to be walked. You can do that when you've been brought up with maps.

There's nothing a child enjoys more than seeing a grown-up struggle with a maths question to which s/he knows the answer. A few years ago the listeners to the Today programme (Radio 4) giggled behind their breakfast newspapers when an education politician gave an incorrect answer to a times table question put to him by the interviewer. This week there appeared in the press a series of maths questions "for all the family" Naturally, the little ones homed in on any question to do with food. It was all about the number of scones four children had eaten. Once the word "mean" had been explained to the 9-year old she had the savvy to work out the answer of three and a half scones each. The question which stumped most adults (well 2 out of the three) was deceptively easy. What shape is a fifty pence piece? To be fair, the youngest knew only because they had investigated the number seven at an activity session down on the cricket ground the previous day (learning is done in the most interesting ways) but he definitely thought his parents "uneducalable" when they could not decide on the correct name for a 7-sided shape (a heptagon). And as The Pulse pointed out, a 50p coin is really a 3D shape. Well, so it is!

Faster higher stronger

2008-08-21T14:32:00.005+01:00

As The Pulse relaxed with a cup of coffee and a well-earned biscuit the news began on the radio, and in the course of an interview two mathematical phrases were used as illustrations to the topic under discussion. The subject has now been forgotten but the phrases "squaring the circle" and "adding two and two to make four, or four-and-a-half, or five" are still fresh in the mind. The first means to make the plan fit what you want to achieve. It comes from those children's play toys in which bricks of different shapes have to be placed in holes of the same shape. The second is all about putting a plan together any maybe getting the wrong result. Of course both of these have been much in use in Beijing during the past two weeks as Team GB's plans for individual athletes have been either well rewarded or blown to pieces. Whatever the result, these guys have just blown this family away with their determination, style and modesty.

For everyone wanting to make use of their maths knowledge an event such as the Olympics has given them masses of examples. Distances, heights and weights, times and scores. Decimal points, hundredths of seconds, wind strengths, angles of entry, three and a half somersaults, multiple twists, number of lengths, laps and much more. And as the little ones studied the medal table this morning it was discovered that a country that has come fourth so far actually has more medals than the one (GB) who is so far third. The coffee gets cold as The Pulse explains how the relative values of gold, silver and bronze play a part. The youngest even wants copper medals next time as it was "a shame that the person coming fourth just misses out."

Anyhow, both have appreciated just how high one metre is to jump over when they actually try it; how fast ten seconds is, when they tear across the park; and how tiring two lengths is when they went to the local pool. Both are active to an amazing degree in any case but by London 2012 they'll be well on their way. Whose turn is it in 2016? Wherever it is, they're determined to be there, part of the future Team GB. Better start saving.

What is the risk?

2008-08-07T09:59:00.004+01:00

The Pulse family's latest pin-up pic (on the kitchen wall) is one from yesterday's newspapers showing a mother and baby gorilla from Congo. A survey has announced there are probably four times as many lowland gorillas there as previously thought. Just like children everywhere, this young one appears to be announcing to the world: "look, I've got a free ride." The Pulse has taken many pictures of gorillas at the world-renowned Durrell centre, formerly known as Jersey Zoo. Unfortunately, gorillas, lowland or otherwise, never stand where and when you want them to. You believe you have the perfect pose, but just as your finger presses the button the said animal turns its back, or you realise too late that the sun, behind a cloud until that moment, shines directly into the lens. Fortunately, Durrell has a solution in this great sculpture of, probably, its most famous gorilla, Jambo. Nothing particularly to do with maths, but the family did discover masses of maths involved both in running a zoo of any kind, and certainly a day out at a zoo or animal centre.

The Pulse was ready to align himself with the survey which pronounced that a greater number of children do not spend much time in adventurous activity. It's not that the youngsters don't want to climb trees, ride out on their bikes or mess around down by the river, but that their parents or other "concerned adults" think they're being neglectful of their safety if they are out of sight. Two good friends of the little ones have certainly not been seen outside of their own back gardens since the end of term. The little ones don't go far, but they can go alone to the local shops, to the recreation ground - through which wends a short length of the river - and ride their bikes along the lane and over the bridge towards the local farm. The farmer and his helpers know them well. There has been the odd accident, but the little ones have learned to cope with the risk involved in activities where they have a great deal of fun. The survey suggests they are in a minority; around 30%. Interestingly, one of them near the end of term, announced that he was going to do his homework on the tree platform at the bottom of the garden "because it was a calm place to think." 49% of children can't do that because trees are too dangerous. A risky activity, homework.

Keyboard pals

2008-07-25T14:52:00.006+01:00

One little feature of life from way back almost further than The Pulse can remember, his class at school all had pen pals. Which was great - for some. Clearly some children from wherever were more enthusiastic about writing letters to their UK pals than others. After spending hours on a launching letter, in best handwriting, and a copy of the latest head-and-shoulders photo from the school photographer, The Pulse in short trousers waited ... and waited. In fact, is still waiting, since a response never arrived. You can lose the will to try again surprisingly quickly. So it was with some reserve that the family listened as both the little ones launched into an excitable reportage of their school's pen pal scheme. Of course, these days, much of it is done via the internet, on a special site which is only accessible by those who need to access it. The great benefit is that the schools insist that "proper letter-writing" is also involved. Real stamps on real letters delivered by real postmen. The school was helpful in ensuring the two Norwegian children were also brother and sister. Since these scheme began in May it's not only the little ones who have spent time on their web pages and writing their letters - with a little help from GD. Their mum and dad have also become involved. There may be a motive here, and this family might yet end up holidaying in Scandinavia next year, cost permitting.

How do you measure smell? This has been a subject of discussion this week. Measure time and you look at a clock; measure distance or length and you grab a tape measure; get the scales out to measure mass (weight); thermometers measure temperature, and there are other contraptions for measuring rain, wind and humidity. But what about the smell in the garage? Regular readers will know that incoming water has been a feature of the household in recent months, and the drying-out process has brought with it musty smells. Various members of the family who have made visits to the garage to collect or take various objects for storage, return to compare the nature and strength of the smell since the previous day. Various actions, like pointing finger up or down, or holding one's nose are a poor substitute for the real thing; but just how do you measure the strength and acceptability of a smell. Any ideas?

How fast is fast?

2008-07-17T08:33:00.004+01:00

Speed; it's all about speed. There was a time when, if you wanted to make a phone call to a friend in a distant town you waited for an operator to be free to make the connection for you - no dials or push buttons, you see. "I'm sorry, the other party is not answering." The whole process might take five minutes before the caller actually spoke to his friend. Sending emails and other files through the wires seems, by comparison a painless and quick affair: press the send key and it's gone. The Pulse thinks that's quick enough for him anyway. Now British Telecom have plans to replace all of the copper cables with fibre optic ones in order to make the connections even faster. Fair enough; that sounds like progress, you might think, but most of the work involved is creating the files and emails in the first place and that won't get any faster. This brain is working at full speed as it is, and only then after a good night's sleep and a hearty breakfast.

The little ones have been totting up their points for the athletics skills they have been practising at school this term. These are the schemes which started out some years back as the Ten Step in which points are awarded for how fast, how many, how long or how high according to your age, but interestingly then not according to your height, body mass, vision or one of many other ways in which growing youngsters are different. So, you don't take part in a race, but you run fast together, each competitor anxious not to be beaten by any of the others. Not a race? Anyway, the school has encouraged the children to compare their results with those of last year, not just last month. The little ones were seriously impressed with how much further or faster they could achieve. But then they would, wouldn't they. They are now older, fitter, stronger - and more competitive. As the younger one said to his mate after school yesterday while kicking a ball at the front gate; "come on, race you to Georgie's house. Go!"

Who lies at G42?

2008-07-10T11:34:00.006+01:00

There's no justice in the provinces, no justice at all. Readers will recall that recently a local water main pipe fractured and for several hours spewed its fountain of pure liquid around and created a local flood. This week it was the turn of the sewer pipe - well, it smelled like the sewer pipe. It will not have escaped anyone's notice that during the past two days the rainfall has been excessive. Talking to the men in the road dealing with the latest problem, the water pipe repair had created a problem in the adjacent storm sewer pipe, where a machine had disturbed it, caused it to fracture, part of the soil above fell in and blocked the flow. Now, everyone, this is all to do with capacity. This is what the suited man with a clipboard told us. Under normal circumstances there was enough space in the pipe for the water to flow through the remaining gap. Yesterday's three inches or so of rain was just too much for the pipe and what couldn't get through backed up - just like bank holiday cars on the motorway. So we now have around twenty flooded lawns. The Pulse garage is under water again, and the family saloon, which is stored for the duration to save the petrol costs, was up to its wheelnuts. At the far end two of those plastic tubs from the local pound shop did sterling work ferrying the little ones around as they took the chickens on a voyage of discovery. At least the lawn won't get mown this week.

A while back when trying to locate an old family grave in a suburban cemetery The Pulse met a small group who were in the middle of the huge task of identifying all of the graves in the old part. At each grave they recorded the surname and given name of the person lying there. They then looked at an enlarged copy of a Google Earth aerial photograph fixed to a large clipboard. To this someone had drawn a grid - letters printed down the side and numbers along the bottom. The position of each grave could therefore be identified with a square, E12 or H19 for example. Because of the huge size of this peaceful place some of the letters had to be doubled and the numbers seemed to go on and on. Fortunately the grave The Pulse was searching for had already been recorded, and, together with a copy of the plan and the path markers, he went to locate it at FF51. Bringing a bit of order to a haphazard arrangement. Great!

The car stays where it is

2008-07-03T12:02:00.006+01:00

The Pulse was mesmerised by some extremely impressive wrought iron this week. Normally if this family requires a new front gate it only needs to make a visit to the nearest DIY shed or garden centre. However, at the Palace of Versailles they do things differently, where the equivalent of £4 million was needed to replace the original front gate removed during the French Revolution around 2 centuries ago. That's some gate, brilliantly gilded with 100,000 gold leaves. The Pulses do know a little about gold leaf, having watched a craftsman at work gilding a weathervane at a metal workshop not far away. By doing a spot of investigation the little ones' dad has come up with a previously unknown set of measures, courtesy of a specialist firm. One gold leaf measures 3 3/8 inches square. One book contains 25 sheets (each sheet is micro, micro, micro thin!); one pack contains 20 books or 500 leaves; one book covers 2 square feet; one pack covers 40 square feet. Whether that is of any use to any of us other than gilders is doubtful, but it can certainly enter the trivia collection when the family play its next game - there are always blank cards kept handy for invented new questions. Meanwhile a tin of black paint will do to spruce up the gates at chez Pulse.

The family has made a difficult decision; the car stays in the garage, for which space has had to be found now that most items affected by our recent flood have dried out. It was decided that a car standing on the drive was too easy to jump into, but it would be a lot more bother if the keys to the garage had to be found, the route cleared and doors locked again. All of this to save (quite) a few pounds for balancing the family budget as the liquid needed to move the thing in the first place would almost cost a quid just to get to the end of the road. Now journeys are planned more carefully, more walking is done, and everyone sees the bus driver more often - hi Pauline! As the cost of petrol has increased by 30% recently The Pulse wonders what the effect will be on reduced mileage of the family car, extra money spent on bus fares and more efficient ways of organising this family's daily routines. Maybe it is a good thing that petrol is draining money through everyone's wallets. "If you want an ice-cream and a kick-about in the park we'll have to walk, and on the way we can call in at ..."

Thirty fifteen

2008-06-26T11:19:00.006+01:00

It has to be said that the little ones have never been short of imagination nor a sense of inquiry, both of which have occasionally brought a little trouble in their wake; but that is all part of learning what is acceptable. Neither of them simply accepts what is placed on the table for them to eat without an analysis of what it contains and how it became what it is. This all stems from the time spent in the kitchen with their parents - and of course their GD on the allotment, where, incidentally, they have their own areas to tend. You sometimes wonder how they have the time given all the other activities they love. But as The Pulse always believes, both growing and cooking are remarkably relaxing. A recent government proposal says that toddlers (for which I assume it really means all children, whatever their age) will be encouraged to play number games under government plans to improve maths skills at an early age. Parents are to be encouraged to help children understand maths during household activities such as cooking. Well, the government can save a little money by not bothering with this family. As they say: been there, done that. Neither of them has any idea whether or not they are good at maths. They just enjoy the kind of activities which make use of maths; and to be honest, that includes almost everything. Which is of course why this blog started in the first place.

What a feast of numbers at Wimbledon at present. The little ones can both knock a fair ball over the net and the older one can even beat her mother when a bit of stamina is needed. So they know how to score. It has therefore been extra interesting this week to hear all sorts of talk from the sofa about scores, aces, double faults and best performances. Their parents have shown them a standard scoring card and between them they have created a useful stats sheet. "That's another drop shot for me; third so far." Then a minor miracle as the younger one retorted "yes but my player has drop shots all the time; yours only had them in the games before he lost the sets." You only get that kind of perception when children and their parents become intensively involved. Now the next question: is it unfair for the player if the sun is in his eyes later in the day? Your serve.

The photograph was taken at last year's Women's International at Eastbourne.

Gallons of the cool stuff

2008-06-12T08:49:00.008+01:00

It's not often that anything wildly exciting happens in this outpost of the provinces - in the sense that the event might, just might, get a mention in the local Friday newspaper. However, last week, two such happenings occurred right outside the family Pulse's front door. A skip which caught fire was the first, sending thick pungent smoke around. In spite of a garden hose being played on the flames, the fire brigade guys were called and threw all their learned skills at the conflagration.

Then just as the red vehicle lurched into the distance on the rather undulating road surface, the means of extinguishing the fire suddenly manifested itself. A large mains water pipe to feed the town runs under one side of this road, and for two days it also ran along the surface. Unfortunately, water has a habit of flowing downhill. Unfortunately, because the houses on the Pulse side of the street are slightly lower than the road level, and given the quantity of water involved a lot of it was bound to find itself in the property of Chez Pulse. Fortunately, the house was designed and built in those days before the law required you to have level access and, apart from blocking up the vent bricks the family spent its time rescuing pets, favourite plants, the shed and anything left lying on the floor of the garage. So now we are left with a pond once more where the heavy rains of spring also produced one. A little one held The Pulse's hand as we watched the geyser from the broken pipe shoot into the air while men in blue tops and blue and white vans scurried around. "How many gallons do you think they've lost GD?" While GD wrestled with a meaningful estimate, it struck him that after a generation of metric teaching in school, this eight-year old quite naturally turned to an imperial measure to express his inquiry. Language is a funny communicating tool.

This family played the shape game on its latest visit to the town park at the weekend. If you can stand the repetitive "rectangle" (one point), The Pulse's have refined the playing of it so that composite shapes are included if the finder can name two or more shapes within it (5 points). The nine year-old has started to include 3-D shapes (3 points) and rarities, such as decagons, now double the finder's score. Of course, there are endless discussions (arguments?) about the validity of the finding, and the rules get ever more complicated - but could someone tell us, why is it that bandstands are nearly always octagonal (4 points)?

No budge on the budget

2008-05-29T14:19:00.005+01:00

Half-term and bank holiday usually signifies WET, although the last bank holiday bucked the normal weather behaviour. The local agricultural show was a soggy affair, and the chickens have been learning to swim since so much rain fell over last Saturday night that a temporary pond gathered in the lowest part of the garden, which just happened to coincide with the chicken run. Josh, the farmer's new employee, had the job this week of hammering a pole into the middle of the pond at the green near the bottom of the hill. Although on public land the pond belongs to the farm, and the Safety Generals had insisted that a depth gauge be place there in case anyone felt like taking a dip. In pea-green water? The little ones returned home to announce that in the middle of the said stretch of water the depth was one point three metres. The Pulse suggested they return to pace out the length and width - then everyone will know how much volume of water is in the pond. "Why would we want to know that?" Of course, there is no answer to that kind question when a little one asks it, other than, when you have all the right information there is no limit to the what you can discover. The family likes to do thinks together (well, it does when everyone agrees to to them!)

The family made a half-term decision not to use the car to make a number of reasonably local trips - up to about twenty miles -as the increasing cost of the fuel had made doing so more expensive. In simple terms for the little ones, the government was being asked to lower the taxes everyone pays on the fuel and the government has replied that it can't afford to do so as its budget is now fixed for the year. Well, it doesn't take our junior masterminds long to come up with an answer. "GD, why don't we write to the government and tell them that we can't afford to pay the taxes because our budgets are fixed too. By the way, what's a budget?" This was patiently explained and the reply came almost immediately: " if we have to change our budget by not going to the big pool (this is the one with all the slides, the wave and a beach) the government should be able to change theirs. How do you tell an eight-year-old that only some of us are sensible?

Incidentally, the picture is definitiely not this village's pond - acknowledgements to the owners of the pond - wherever it is!

More enjoyable than a bath

2008-05-22T20:03:00.007+01:00

The Pulse, for all the wild cheers and tears in the living room last evening - for the family is a divided one where football is concerned - is going, on the morning after, to remain firmly neutral. When considering the number of minutes played, the number of players involved, the number of spectators who were transported to a remote stadium, the number of tonnes of CO2 expended, the amount of money they collectively paid for the privilege - all of which can be calculated - it might ... well, let's just say, have you ever known the trophy to be shared?

Now that all of the family, including GD, have bikes, no-one needs to stay at home when the rest decide it's time for a country ride. For the little ones, if they go no further than the ford next to the river bridge down by the farm, they will delighted. Repeatedly riding their machines through the shallow water, making wonderful splashes and lifting their feet from the pedals, they would laugh their heads of all afternoon. But since the purpose goes much further than simply getting wet, the tribe wend their way, if this is a usual ride, along some well-known lanes and roads, across tracks to the country park as far as a remote industrial zone which was formerly the terminus of a mineral railway line.

On last week's ride we had stopped to admire the sheep pasture as hundreds (that's a rough estimate) of sheep had been brought here to be fattened on the lush green lowland grass. Much time had been taken trying to count them, and as a little one had admitted, if they all kept still it would help and in any case he wasn't sure of keeping tabs on numbers beyond one hundred. "It's impossible!" he shouted at a passing woollen quadruped. So he was the first to spot that half of the flock had been moved on by this week. No only that, but those which were left were more settled. Nevertheless, his sister, who had been taught these things at school, quartered the field, counted the nearest quarter and multiplied the result by four. Of course, her brother insisted on counting every last one. And, do you know. there was only a difference of six between them. Now all that was left was for two young members of the tribe to soak themselves in the ford on the return journey.

Not good enough to win

2008-05-15T11:17:00.008+01:00

It is probably just as well that the weather has greeted the start of the Test cricket season with a wet handshake this morning, as The Pulse can settle to this week's posting. Mind you, there are many supporters of Glasgow Rangers who will wake up this morning with severe depressions following the blip in their celebrations in which they forgot to guarantee a win! One fact that did get The Pulse rattled was not the score, but the fact that, despite the news coverage for the blue side, there was another team on the field and they were Zenit St Petersburg. Casual viewers of the news might have missed that subtle point. As this family never tire of reminding each other, there are only three possible outcomes: you share the glory with a draw, you are better than your opponents and win, or you are not as good and you do not win. End of story. The little ones know all about that. They both take part in great coaching schemes operating locally, in which gamesmanship has been thrown out of the window and the right attitudes of sporting endeavour are an intrinsic part of the training. By coincidence this morning a friend emailed with details of The Ministry of Football website, which seems to be doing much the same thing in north London somewhere. The future for youth football may depend on initiatives like this. And as this blog site keeps emphasising, there's a host of excellent maths in a game of football.

The rowing escapades on the local river appear to be developing into an obsession. Not only is this going to be the fifth Saturday in a row when one or other of the parents have accompanied their offspring in the little boat the family has been bequeathed, but a good friend of the family also invited them for a short sailing trip on the Solent in one of his far more impressive craft. Observing large fleets of vessels close together gave The Pulse an idea about using those numbers printed on the sails - but readers can create their own ideas and that will save space here. Browsing the For Sale notices at the sailing club HQ, yours truly, began to work out how many craft you could buy with a million pounds. Well, not surprisingly it was in the lower half of single digits. Just dreaming of course but it's the same kind of calculation everyone has done - how many sweets can I buy for the equivalent of what used to be ten bob when the writer was in short trousers. As the older little one commented when she was picked up from her footy session yesterday and visited the sweet shop with GD (and without her parents knowing): "not a lot!"

A fair comment

2008-05-08T09:31:00.006+01:00

Both the garden and the allotment have been centres of activity this week as we have sown those seeds which, when they emerge above ground, will be tender. The Pulse family do try to grow as many vegetables, fruits and herbs as they can. One problem is that when the little ones let the chickens out - for a treat, as they inform everyone - they, the chickens, make a beeline for the newly turned-over soil and seem intent on disturbing every last seed which had been sown. New rule: all chickens must remain in the enclosure until all seedlings are at least one centimetre above ground.

They, the little ones, have also grasped this idea of a bonus pretty quickly. You know the situation: someone is engaged to do a job, which they may or may not do well. One or two years down the line they either leave for pastures new or they are told to pack their bags because they messed up. The company for which they worked, including the government and local councils, seem to come up with a substantial bonus for them; and if they messed up spectacularly the bonus is that much larger. No job that The Pulse ever had attracted a bonus. Mind you, The Pulse never messed up, he is proud to admit, but even so. The other day the youngest little one had not been concentrating at school and got many of his sums wrong. Supportingly his teacher placed a sticker in his book which read "try harder next time". "Look, GD, I got a bonus too," he announced, pointing at the sticker. "I want another one tomorrow." We know what the words say, but stickers for not doing too well? What kind of lesson is that?

At the fair recently and after the family had enjoyed a ride (£1.50) on the horses it struck The Pulse that there is some good maths in that ride. How much can the owners expect to take in income for each session? How long is each session? How many sessions in a day? Therefore what might be the takings in a day? The 9 year old wanted to know how fast they had been going. Her dad paced around the edge of the ride once it had stopped and calculated how many times the child in the red jeans passed the pay desk in one minute. Multiplying that by the paced number of metres gave an answer in metres per minute. Multiplying by 60 (and dividing the metres by 1,000) resulted in a speed in in km per hour. Then of course there is an estimate for how high the horses rise on their poles. Finally, the question GD could not answer at all - do all horse rides at fairs go the same way? Any ideas anyone?

Excuse me, what's the time?

2008-05-01T09:32:00.006+01:00

It has not been quite as happy in the Pulse household this week as the younger little one has been laid low by a virus. At one point the writer felt like laying straw on the road outside (he sleeps in a front bedroom) so that the other children could "play more quietly" outside". It's not serious but as with all viruses, not to be spread needlessly around. So it was with some disquiet that we learned from the boy's friends that his absence would take the class attendance average "well below the 95% target." Well. that really is serious! At least his mother, who always does these things, will write a convincing letter upon his return, in an effort to claim exceptional circumstances.

An interesting little book arrived this week about the history of a mid 19th century National school in a deprived area of one of our provincial towns. In a published part of the school's log book a number of reasons for absence are quoted: carrying the November guy around the street; watching volunteer (soldiers) drilling and shooting; running after the vehicles going to the races; watching the weddings and funerals; watching the mayor laying a foundation stone; picking blackberries; minding baby while mother worked; helping with electioneering. That will have put the school's attendance percentages down big time.

Now, when anyone asks The Pulse for the time he looks at his watch so as to provide an exact answer. However, many's the time in recent months when he's been caught out in setting his watch in the first place. It seems that you have to be careful how you listen to the radio, from which most of us set our timepieces anyway. This family do have a habit of turning on more than one radio at a time. There's the new DAB radio in the kitchen, the little portable which has a shelf to itself in the bathroom; in the living room the radio can be heard from the digital set-top box under the tv, and then music and voices come via the internet in the junk room (sorry, study). If they are all on together and set to the same station, you can't wander from room to room and still hear what's going on. There can be up to five minutes difference in output. The pips, heard in the bathroom first, finally reach the study a few minutes later. So when the children's father leaves the house at 7.15am for the train station, what time is it really? Is it really 8am when we hear the pips? The Pulse makes a note to ask someone who knows these things, and he will try to give you an answer later.

Some things come in pairs

2008-04-24T09:57:00.007+01:00

St George's Day + 1.

For the first time yesterday it seems as if the sun on The Pulse's back was not being frozen off by a rasping northerly wind, and life in the garden was actually pleasant. The dirty and rather smelly job of cleaning yuk from the bottom of the pond was over and the chickens were busy pecking over the drying heap of grey/brown gunge. The fallen tree which had lain across the garden for some weeks had finally been logged up and the kind neighbours had donated a goodly proportion of logs in this family's direction. Some of these have now been stacked in a secluded spot to provide a home for bugs and reptiles. Now here's a discovery - well several actually. Yours truly has discovered a single training shoe nestled in the leaves of an evergreen shrub. It was certainly full of water, but no little one has, during the past few months, uttered the immortal words, "I've lost my left trainer." Then there was a single skate under a bench seat which in summer is a wonderful sun-trap. Perhaps that is why the paths have been safer for everyone else as no speeding youngster has been able to exercise her rolling rights to travel. But no-one has actually said anything. And the less said about the little wellington boot (singular) still without its partner in the porch, the better.

One daily newspaper yesterday prominently displayed the prices of 6 grocery products - pasta, milk, rice, cheese, butter and eggs. There was the price of each item this time last year, and the price today. Someone at the paper had kindly found a calculator and worked out the percentage increase of each item. Yes, pasta had increased 81%, butter 62%, rice 61%. Eggs have increased 47%, cheese 26% and milk 17%. The Pulse went to the receipts box - a large cardboard container in the study/junk room where the family routinely throws the till receipts from every shopping trip, "just in case". When it overflows the whole lot is binned and recycled and the process starts all over again. Thrusting hands near the bottom The Pulse drew out one or two likely-looking long receipts from the local supermarket. Well, well, well; the paper's right. There are some price changes which are not noticed from week to week - but 81 percent? Surely that's very nearly double the price of a year ago. Leaving the receipts out on the table the task for this evening is to try and discover grocery products which have not increased at all. What might be the probability of finding at least one? Hmm.

Mixed messages

2008-04-17T11:40:00.004+01:00

Author Bill Bryson and The Pulse do share at least two obsessions. One is the desire to walk places as a first option, an attribute also shared by most of this family - it's also a lot cheaper. The second is a disgust of so much litter wafting around streets and lanes. To that should also be added railway routes. It must be quite saddening to thousands of visitors to these shores to have to travel in the company of so much rubbish. What intrigues The Pulse is, in these days of air-conditioned trains without windows the traveller can open or close at will, just how does it appear in such vast quantities along the tracksides? It's as if the nation's people have given up caring. In this house, garden and street there is no rubbish lying around - just proudly wanted to mention it, that's all.

The Pulse can confidently expect there will be two applicants for next year's London Marathon, and two more in the years to come, as the younger members of the family have been inspired by attending Sunday's event. It was with the usual enthusiasm that The Pulses joined the throng in cold and wet Lower Thames Street (every year a different spot along the route). The little ones found heroes in two mini-marathon runners warming up before their start, and a count was started - but never finished - of the number of runners carrying buckets for donations. Looking up at a sign announcing "500 m" an observant little one looked puzzled. "I thought the race is measured in miles". Yes, it is one of those quirky British customs that can quite happily blend different measures together and not blink an eyelid. The Pulse's sister-in-law regularly mixes up her temperatures between centigrade and fahrenheit, as in "It was cool last evening, about four or five degrees, but I reckon it will be in the eighties by this afternoon." Pondering further over the distance of the race it appears that the race organisers at the 1908 Olympic Games in London weren't as clever as all that. Readers may know that the 26 mile event was extended 385 yards so that it could finish in front of the King in the royal box. OK, but why make the runners go further. Surely all they needed to do was move the start 385 yards nearer the finish. Judging by what this, now ex, runner saw of the finish line, some of the runners may not have been able to move themselves an extra 10 yards, let alone 385. The saying about straws and camel's backs comes to mind.

Good morning; I represent ...

2008-04-10T09:27:00.005+01:00

Readers might have tried to second-guess a major theme of this week's contribution from The Pulse by predicting that Sunday's snow might feature. So as not to disappoint the feature photo satisfies these predictions.

That's not to suggest the family did not enjoy this belated but welcome white weather, what with snowmen and even an igloo, but a happening yesterday after school rather modified the plan. Soon after arriving home, the younger little one and a few of his little mates suggested that the rest of the family might like to come into the front garden. An old postal tube, which one of the athletic group had prepared in advance, having been painted in suitable colours, was held aloft by chief mate who lives at number 2. Quite spontaneously he ran with it to the other end of the road, which is only busy with cars in the morning and evening rush hour. Another member of this street tribe ran down the other side. This activity continued unabated for the next ten minutes or so until one child "had to go inside for a minute". Strikes this GD that no-one forced these young'uns to get out in the fresh air. In their own way this was an Olympic torch relay as they would like it to have been. No fear of the flame going out either. Then, and it appeared to be a secret pre-arranged plan, the tribe thought it quite normal to descend on the Pulse kitchen for drinks and biscuits. Do the words "Cafe this way" appear on a sign at the gate?

Leaflets have been dropping through the letter box this week from various local people who would like to represent this ward at the local elections shortly. A rather higher-profile election is also taking place in London, but in this neck of the proverbial woods it's bins and post offices which are of more concern than bendy-buses and the legacy of the Olympics. An arrival at the doorstep this morning was the first clip-board wanting to know what the household thought about this and that. Her motherhip's and GD's hopefully-helpful comments became numbers, ticks and crosses on an A4 grid, just as the votes the household will cast on May 1st. There will be a small army of people translating these simple marks into totals and, one assumes, the bigger numbers will win the day. That's what it's all about of course: getting the individual views and opinions of a few thousand people and magically turning it into a single meaningful number. Highest number wins and if two numbers are that close the counters begin all over again. Just checking.

Bet the angel's good at maths

2008-04-03T09:03:00.009+01:00

After last week's nautical saunter on the river, Pulse Minor, who is fortunate to be the father of the little ones, agreed to take the rapscallions on a return visit. This time three of the group returned drenched to the skin but laughing their heads off. Just shows what can happen when all three lean over the same side of a small rowing boat at the same time to rescue a slipped oar which had escaped into the water. Readers need not panic, partly because the river is hardly deep enough to swim in, was being supervised by a so-called responsible adult whose wife sensibly stayed on the bank reading the shopping list, and, most important of all, everyone was in the fresh air (and water) actively enjoying themselves - safely.

Because, in this part of the these islands, the ultra-early Easter is still combined with the school Easter holiday, the tribe made its occasional journey to the north country to visit clans that in previous generations came together to form the Pulse family. Armed with books and compact games which went unused, the train journey became somewhat of an entertainment for fellow travellers as the little ones created a spontaneous commentary on the changing scenery and introducing some notional mathematics into most major features spotted. Embarrassingly, the mathematics was not always terribly accurate but it seems they were imitating the role of their teachers (not that they are generally inaccurate, the reader must understand).

Standing close to The Angel of the North (pictured) is an awe-inspiring experience, and the little ones attempted to put into practice the lesson The Pulse had taught them recently. We have no idea whether their estimate of 20 metres to the top of her head is accurate, but they had remembered the detail of the task and that was the important thing.

Having commandeered the entire open eating area of a grazing area this school-party sized family enjoyed some locally made stotties along Gateshead's riverside. Is the Millennium bridge the only one where the distance across the bridge is actually longer than the width of the river due to the curved path of this impressive crossing point? The entire tribe was later passing slowly through Newcastle's Central arcade when the excited cry went up from a little one: "Look, all of these floor tiles tesselate." Said with all of the excitement of one having discovered a new stunning flavour of ice-cream, it was enough to made a senior Pulse blush with pride. Tesselate indeed, now where did she pick up that kind of information up from?

Steady as she goes

2008-03-27T09:33:00.006Z

Your correspondent in the provinces has been engulfed in matters nautical recently. He went with the little ones to a very overgrown location along the little river just beyond the bridge which leads to their school. The family has been given access to what should be an old boathouse and, so far as the owner would be prepared to guess, a couple of old rowing boats. By the time The Pulse had hacked at the undergrowth and discovered the doorway the children had found their way via the narrow jetty and squealed with delight as they came across one rowing boat in the water and a skiff (with a hole in the bottom) leaning against the wall. To cut half a morning's story short, the trio spent happy hours going round in circles and creating a lot of splash with oars. Mind you, the depth of this stretch of water is no more than knee height to a ten year old; walking would certainly have been easier, but if you had mapped the route taken the line would have been quite a tangle which, if straightened out, might have stretched a rather watery half a mile! It seems, though that it will be on the weekend programme a lot this year.

There were reminders of the visit the family made to Portsmouth recently when The Pulse decided to print one of the photos for display on the study wall. A little one, in that way which demanded a definitive answer, enquired how much rope was needed to made the boat (HMS Warrior) look like that? We need an estimated answer here, GD helpfully suggested. Both spent a while estimating the length of one line and then roughly counting the lines.

Another little one was thumbing through the new Radio Times just before bedtime and exclaimed that it was the Boat Race this weekend. There is a map (on page 43) of the course and naturally everyone wanted to know how long it is. Helpfully the younger one found a ruler, but then realised the problem was bigger than he was. Perhaps we need a length of string or cotton. We can drape it along the middle of the Thames from Chiswick to Putney, then straighten it out and measure with a ruler. "I know that," he replied cheekily, but untruthfully. But at least he does now.

Really big classes

2008-03-20T11:09:00.004Z

Well, the fallen tree has not yet disappeared; it still lies across the garden and poses the interesting conundrum of how to reach the bottom shed, which involves a tortuous assault course of up-and-over or a mystery tour through a myriad of branches. Never has a journey to fetch something from the furthest shed, often treated as a chore by both of the little ones under normal circumstances, been such an exciting prospect. So much so that yesterday afternoon when we arrived home from school the first words spoken by the younger one were, "Do you want me to get anything for you from the bottom shed GD?" Right, so maybe The Pulse shouldn't be in any great hurry to have the tree removed.

The older little one announces that she can now say how tall the tree was when it was upright. Using an old athletics tape measure on a reel from the bench in the garage she and a friend had found the beginning of the roots and spread the tape until what had been the tallest twigs had been reached. "What a pity you have to wait until they fall before you can measure them." At this point The Pulse showed them how to make an angle of 45 degrees using a large square piece of paper and then move away from a tree until the top is just visible along the sloping line of the triangle if the bottom of the triangle is held in front of her eyes. The ground distance to the tree, added to the height of the triangle from the ground, is the height of the tree. Magic!

The family is pleased that both of the little ones enjoy school. So it was with some sympathy that they heard last week that 72 million of the world's children do not have that opportunity of learning at school. Mum had recalled that seventy-two million is more than the number of people who live in Britain. "I wish they could come to our school," was the wish of the six-year-old friend of the youngest as he tucked into a sandwich at the kitchen table. "It's going to be a big school, then," commented mum. "Oh, no," came the logical response, "'cause there's a spare classroom next to us." Really big numbers are a tough concept for little people!

So, has HE got his sums right?

2008-03-13T09:28:00.003Z

This morning The Pulse is at the bottom of the garden with a cup of coffee in his hand, surveying the damage created by this week's stormy weather. The high winds had brought down a rather magnificent beech tree from next door. Apart from damage to cold frames it flattened panels from two fences. The Pulse sees it as the death of a friend (and surely for the many varieties of insect, bird and the squirrels it will be even more personal). The Pulse's younger generation are rather miffed because they have missed out on the opportunity of cutting it up and selling the logs in order to boost the rather depleted holiday account. Instead, that will be money which would go into the holiday fund of good neighbours next door - except that they don't know anything about it yet, having taken a week off work to take the Eurostar to France. The little ones, of course, have treated the whole episode with great excitement, and after school yesterday spent ages with their noisy friends clambering all over the structure, no doubt imagining it to be the setting for all sorts of adventures.

The Pulse was, however, indoors at the time watching television and trying to come to terms with the Chancellor's budget. That's probably why the little ones were outside - they couldn't stand GD's mutterings and groanings any longer. Just like any individual and any family, the country has so much money to spend (the fact that it's everyone else's money is another matter). If there is a demand from someone in the family to buy a new bike – which was what a little row last weekend was all about, with much slamming of doors from a certain young man who is now in year four and should know better – everyone else in the family is thinking to themselves, "Oh yes? so what will we have to do without in order to pay for this new roadster?" That's what budgets are all about; trying to balance the money available with all that we need to buy with that money. It's not easy being guardian of that cash; certainly a lot tougher than being banker in Monopoly, that's for sure. Mind you, it didn,t stop The Pulse groaning at the Chancellor yesterday, and just for a moment he wished most fervently that he could join the little ones as they pirated the high seas on their captured new beech "ship", but settled for loading the dishwasher instead.

Look upwards

2008-03-06T09:03:00.002Z

There's no doubt about it, announcing that you want to stop doing one thing for two months (this blog for example) does not in any sense mean more extra time. Immediately the rest of the family cotton on to the implications of this proposal, a substantial list of "jobs" miraculously appear on little post-its around the house. So, in The Pulse's usual manner, a pattern of work has evolved along the lines of one job, one cup of tea, another job, another cup of tea; and where tasks are lengthy, such as re-roofing the chicken house and the large shed after damage by strong winds in January, they are roughly divided into thirty minute segments interspersed with A.C.O.T. and maybe a chat with one of the family next door. What, after all, is the point of having people living next door if you don't communicate with them.

Well, eleven-year-olds all over the country have now been informed which secondary school they will be attending from September next. According to Auntie BBC half a million children will be moving schools. Since it realises listeners are hearing some large numbers it chose to use a much smaller unit of measure to continue the bulletin: a class of thirty. So, now it appears that 24 of those children will go to the school of their first choice. Of the remaining 6, three will accept an alternative and the other three will appeal. One of those appeals will be successful, leaving 2 unsatisfactorily resolved. There; smaller numbers lead to better understanding of the situation. However, those last two children actually represent 33,000 real children. In order to appreciate the true impact we need to restore the original number. The Pulse family therefore wish every last one of them the best of luck. If it is any consolation, The Pulse was forced to attend a school he had no wish to go to, but four years later was full of praise for its attempts to nurture his education - and he still attends its reunions.

Today's picture was one of those opportunities that come along when you least expect them. The family had stopped part way along a lengthy walk. Both of the little ones required the toilets looming ahead. Everyone agreed a 9 out of 10 score (90%) for cleanliness and maintenance. Then son-in-law noted the pattern built into the eaves. All agreed the score should rise to nine and a half.

Thanks to the paper boy

2007-12-05T09:48:00.000Z

The Pulse cannot believe how many days have passed since the previous blog, and for which he earnestly apologises. Rather urgent building work to repair defects has kept him outdoors for several days now, only being driven indoors this morning by the rather unpleasant rain. No sooner had he settled down in the study than he was interrupted by the little ones' mother suggesting that the roofer, who has been decidedly absent from the site for the last eight days "is 99% certain" to turn up this morning, on the very morning he could not possibly work. Odd, isn't it, that we readily use percentages in everyday conversation.

The paper boy on many winter (and summer) mornings is making his delivery in the worst of weather. Today's paper arrived completely dry, and with a cheery wave he dripped his way along the road to Terry and Joyce who have an outrageous topiary hedge by the front door. Thumbing through the Telegraph to the Letters page and beyond The Pulse has come across a new set of puzzles not noticed before. Called Mind Gym, and divided into Beginner, Intermediate and Advanced, the reader has 30 seconds to complete a series of calculations based on the previous answer. If you forget the time limit, primary children should be able to aspire to completing the Beginner puzzle. The Pulse is certain the Telegraph will not mind this line being quoted here - it should help them sell more copies tomorrow! 15 / divide by 3 / double it / x6 / –8 / half of it / +9 / divide by 5 / x7 / +1

Oh, and guess what, the roofer's van has just driven into the drive.

Today's picture is from Ancestry.com's Growing Up page.

An average grey day

2007-11-28T08:38:00.000Z

Well, it had to happen. For years the family could always guarantee that on December the first a white envelope from the same good friends would drop through the letter box and the start of the Christmas card season would had begun. Yesterday the same white envelope from the same good friends arrived, beating their own record by a full four days. It is difficult enough to maintain a semblance of normality and keep the specialness of Christmas at bay until just before the celebratory day, but with two little ones and their school preparations the family has been listening to faltering versions of popular seasonal carols for a fortnight now, but The Pulse aims to keep a lid on proceedings by vowing not to speak further of the C word until at least the second Advent Sunday and possibly later. Time will tell whether he can keep his word.

Do you remember the summer weather? What word sums up what most of the country experienced? The Pulse thinks "wet" would fit the bill. Wasn't it something like the wettest period on record? Now apparently, this autumn has been very dry, with many areas having only 10% of the rainfall which could be expected at this time of year. Could it be that by the end of the year the UK will end up with a total rainfall "about the average" – in other words normal. Call it pocket money if you like. You may usually receive £2 each weekend. Last week though might have been a great weekend for you and you were presented with £3. However, at the end of this week your parents may find there is little spare money in the kitty and may only give you one pound. You could complain, but have you lost out or gained extra? Neither. You could have expected to receive £6 over the three weeks. What you actually received was £2, £3 and £1, which is, er, £6. The law of averages.

For once, today's picture has nothing to do with The Pulse's ramblings. On such a grey morning he thought it would be great to cheer readers up with a recollection of August's Carnival at Notting Hill, London.

Paris in two hours

2007-11-15T12:32:00.000Z

What a shame The Pulse could not travel to the metropolis this week in order to share in the celebratory opening of St Pancras International and wave off the first train to le continent. But the family did pop their collective heads inside a month back where there were lots of "wow" comments from the little ones. This soaring wonder of a train shed had The Pulse lost for superlatives. The more so since he recalls commuting from the suburbs into St Pancras in the 1960s. Then it was grimy, dark and neglected, and in winter the cold winds blowing in from the north end could send the hardiest passenger into the old-fashioned waiting room for a little relief. Even the bomb damage from the last war had only been patched up but not fully repaired, and that's the way it stayed until about 7 years ago. The powder-blue arches now protect a wonderfully welcoming and spacious terminal, and here from the provinces the family wishes it well.

How to save money; now that is always such an easy idea in principle, yet incredibly difficult task in practice. So it came as a nice little challenge yesterday to read in the paper just how much everyone could save over a few months if only they could get their act together. The headline figures included saving £600 by switching to own-brands at supermarkets; £56 by getting an Orange phone and taking advantage of cinema tickets on Wednesdays; £52 by using the veg market instead of the supermarket; £50 by buying magazine subscriptions rather than buying from a shop; £30 by not shopping until after 7pm (to take advantage of offers), and so on. How much have we saved so far? When you add £107, £45, £50, £15, £10, £6 and £3 for other suggestions how much better off will we be? However, the catch seems to be in phrases like UP TO and assumptions that you are a family of 6 and live in a large house. Headline numbers are all very well, but our own circumstances may be very different. Ah well, it was nice to dream that £1,000 or more could be available to spend before Easter.

Centenary

2007-11-13T08:58:00.000Z

Everyone loves a birthday, and organisations generally celebrate what are known as "significant birthdays" – ten years, twenty-five, forty, fifty, one hundred. Radar Day By Day has quietly produced a new post every few days for the past eleven months and today posts its one-hundredth contribution to the world of ordinary everyday events, and to maths of course. In the spirit of quirkiness and mathematics we also put together a more unusual way of writing 100 as our image for the day. The Pulse is rather smug about the result of it, but has to admit that the original idea came from the youngest little one as he thumbed through one of those magazines you find at your seat in that Pendolino company's trains along the West Coast Main Line. Together we found photographs or designs which looked like each of the ten digits. Zero and one were very easy but we still had not located a five by the time the family reached our home station. Just one of the many maths-related games which children can play on a long journey.

Everyone donned their warmest and oldest outdoor clothes before bagging up yet more fallen leaves. Another roll of plastic sacks used up. Surely half of those leaves have come from next-door, but they will make great mulch in a year's time. A tractor arrived from the farm at the bottom of the hill and dropped off two bales of straw. These will be used to make the accommodation for the hens more snug during the winter period. Off went Josh, the farmer's son, leaving a very prominent set of parallel mud lines on the road in his wake, thick and cakey at the far end of the road shortly after turning out of the farm entrance, and barely visible, thank goodness, on the approach to Maison de Pulse.

A poppy for your thoughts

2007-11-12T09:21:00.000Z

How many poppy sellers, you may ask, are you likely to encounter during the week before Remembrance weekend? The answer will largely depend on daily routines and whether you are at school or in a supporting workplace. Not for the first year, The Pulse came close to the wire and discovered two smart young men selling their flowerheads in Whitehall, London (a most appropriate location) late on Saturday afternoon. When he expressed surprise and relief on being able to, finally, buy poppies, the sellers responded that "so many people had come up to us today saying the same thing." It is of course quite probable that there is a shortage of poppy sellers. In the meantime, maybe one of the pair could have separated and taken up station, as it were, outside, say, Euston station, which was teeming with weekend travellers. Just an idea.

The above described event occured when the family took the opportunity of visiting Whitehall to watch the preparations being made for yesterday's Remembrance ceremony. However, the real purpose was to, pilgrim-like, visit the wonderful poppy field laid out in front of Westminster Abbey. Even at this late stage visitors were still planting their little cross with a poppy on it in memory of someone known to them. Meanwhile, the family talked to a few of these planters to understand the part they played in the overwhelming experience of war and its aftermath. The little ones, ever mathematically-minded, counted the huge number of laid out areas of grass and tried to work out the average number of crosses planted in each one. The fact that they were thoroughly overwhelmed by the enormity of the process, says something about their willingness to try, but a lot lot more about the scale of human destruction during the past century. A pause for silent thought, we think.

Leaf fall

2007-11-08T09:10:00.000Z

Of all of the years he can recall, Autumn of 2007 is proving to be among the most colourful. After a severely wet period during the summer September and October have been relatively dry. He doesn't understand how, but the colours of autumn, set against azure skies, have been especially rich. The sounds of leaves being scrunched underfoot are crisp, compared with the quieter dull note of wet fishmongery leaves as they cling to each other along the park paths and residential street gutters. The little ones love stirring up the debris of summer and spend hours clambering inside piles of leaves which have the feel of ancient paper. They giggled their way through a fairly rich vocabulary to describe the feel and smell of the burrow they had created for themselves. Wonderful fun. "...and its very warm in here, GD." Science lesson coming up about the properties of insulation!

Meanwhile, there had been a difference of opinion - or fact - over the amount of gas which had been used the previous quarter and mum was on the phone trying to establish that the company were looking at the correct records. There was a vital piece of information required: a number twenty-nine digits long. The company had been unhelpful enough to print it in one long string. Now when reading out such a long number it is always useful to break it into groups of 3 or 4 digits followed by a space. Which gave The Pulse an idea. How many different numbers have been allocated to the family by various utility and other companies? With these numbers broken down into smaller components there is so much maths which can be created: largest and smallest numbers, adding, subtracting and multiplying, sorting, adding the individual digits, even-only numbers, odd-only numbers. All you need are numbers, and utlity bill customer codes give you numbers in abundance. Get to it, everyone.

Wave action

2007-11-05T16:43:00.000Z

Aren't people strange? Not you of course, and not The Pulse family, but other people. There are places where people are ready to talk to you as you walk along the road. "Good morning." When you wait in the queue at the post office. While collecting the newspaper at the newsagent. At the supermarket checkout. People working in their front gardens. On the other hand there are times and places where, if you greet a fellow traveller along the road, they look in surprise as if you have invaded their space. A smile is almost as good as a greeting and it's great if you can exchange both. There is a wonderful saying which comes to mind: "A smile is the shortest distance between two people." Now, that IS something to think about.

The Pulse family does like a day at the seaside, and it does not much matter where, as long as it is sand (or pebbles) and salt water - prefereably a pier and definitely an ice cream seller. So there we were, sitting on our towels, eating our cornets and watching the November bonfire Saturday waves, when the question hit the Pulse like a bullet: " Grandad, do the waves slow down and speed up like dad when driving the car?" Well, we could only discover how quickly the waves broke on the beach that afternoon; both the little ones observed that there was a smaller gap, then a longer gap, then two little waves arrived almost together. We agreed to count the waves for one minute - 18 waves. Repeating the exercise the results were 20 and 20. That's right, the average number of waves was almost 20 waves per minute or one every 3 seconds. Now, what we would love to know from anyone who lives near the seaside, is whether that rate slows down or speeds up or remains the same when the wind gets up and waves thunder onto the beach. Please let us know via the message board (www.radarmaths.com). If you are not members, a comment via ask@radarmaths.com would be very welcome. Enjoy you paddle.

The circle line

2007-10-29T09:29:00.000Z

Last week's story, which appeared as a revelation to some, that young children benefit from a regular bedtime story, of course comes as no surprise at all to parents and grandparents who themselves indulged in the practice a generation or three ago. The Pulse recalls being read to downstairs and then reading upstairs in bed. In fact the first and only reason for acquiring a torch was to continue the exciting stories after official "lights-out". There was something really magical about reading under the sheets by torchlight before occasionally coming up for air. Scary stories? If you don't get scared they are definitely not scary, so there would be no point. You try to stop a child from reading a scary story and see what happens. One of a young child's battles is the overcoming of fear, and stories are a harmless method of achieving in a modern world what our ancestors experienced everyday for real. Now, what shall we read tonight?

Now, what is the most satisfying of shapes yet is the most difficult to draw? The Pulse loves circles and he and the little ones have spent time recently looking out for circles in everyday life. You know the kind of thing, logos, flower beds, road signs, plaques, shop displays car wheels - the list is seemingly endless. You can do the same kind of thing with triangles and quadrilaterals, but examples of other shapes are far less common. There's no doubt about it, the circle has a particular quality all of its own. On a rather miserably damp Sunday afternoon, the little ones sat down with GD, pencils and paper in a hilariously competitive activity to see who could draw the most accurate circle freehand. It was the 9-year-old who discovered that the larger the circle the more difficult it was to draw, and the younger one drew a most perfect representation before the rest of us realised that underneath was a newspaper advert with a bold circle in the middle feintly showing through. Fully credit for cunning - and eyesight.

Peace and quiet at last.

2007-10-27T10:31:00.000+01:00

The everyday scrummage of family life naturally generates a certain amount of noise. The comings and goings of cars on the road, neighbours shutting those awkward garage doors, children on the stairs, the phones warbling and being answered far too many times for The Pulse's liking. This time of year we must add the nightly explosions from fireworks. Time to keep the pets indoors. Staying awhile in the metropolis from time to time, the additional sounds from the street are ever present. Back in mid country where the towns are smaller and villages attractively pleasant, those background noises are almost entirely absent. If you get fed up with the blare from the children's games and the arguments from their bedrooms a good brisk walk along a footpath, along the field edges and beside the canal, reminds you what silence is all about. And it's wonderful.

Newspapers love statistics, and they enjoy listing the errors made by politicians. So many of yesterday's papers had a list of expenses claimed by members of HM Government. You don't need to read the articles which accompany them. Just use the stats as an exercise in estimating the total and then calculating it. On the list The Pulse was looking at there were 19 names. Well, that's nearly 20. The amount roughly in the middle of the list was £135,000. 135,000 x 2 x 10 is £2,700,000 An easily produced estimate of the total. The actual total was £2,517,093, so the estimate was reasonable. Just simple everyday maths.

All change

2007-10-22T16:41:00.000+01:00

I am sure that whoever invented traffic lights was a very intelligent chap. Those three coloured lights along the world's roadways have become an instinctive code for everyone who uses the public highway. Wouldn't it be wonderful if the lights themselves were intelligent. Some would say they are, because of the sophisticated software which drives them. Well, The Pulse would like to disagree. Why is it that on busy roads ALL of the traffic can get held while those at the front of all of the queues can be entertained being reminded for thirty seconds how quiet the junction would have been in 1892 or some such ancient date. By which time another twenty vehicles have added themselves to the end of the line. Then, there is the traffic which waits for absolutely no-one on the other road, until a solitary car looms towards the junction, at which point the lights change to stop him. What was the point? Then of course, why is it that traffic lights let everyone through, except the last car - something you only realise when that last driver is you? Intelligent traffic lights? The Pulse thinks not.

A little one saw his mum phone another parent this morning (all to do with whether games day had really been changed this week - mums really should believe their children). Suddenly he shouted out "twenty-six". His dad made a call to the friend who he shares a car with into town, and after looking carefully, called out "nineteen". "OK." asked GD, "what's this number worth? After keying in a number, the response was "twenty-six again". Great practice for a seven-year-old. He was adding the six figures of each number as it was keyed in, or seen on the pad. His highest total so far is fifty-nine. Keep going lad, anyone got the number 0 something, something, something, something 999999?

Free like a bird

2007-10-16T18:40:00.001+01:00

There is something very calming about watching paragliders engaged in an aerial dance above the cliffs - although The Pulse is less certain that, were he to be hanging underneath a piece of colourful canvas, or whatever it is made of, that he would be calmed by the experience. Of course, the little ones wanted to have a go but the idea of 7 and 9 year olds launching themselves off Beachy Head with a piece of material attached to a harness by a few thin lengths of cord did not appeal to an adult's idea of bringing up children responsibly. The gentle curves, the fan of cords, the parallel ribs, were intensly satisfying to a mathematical mind and everyone enjoyed the performance as if they had danced their hearts out on the stage of a theatre. Like soaring birds enjoying themselves in the sun.

A well-known former prime minister apparently looked around a house he thinks he might like to buy. We were informed that the area of the grounds amounted to 22 acres. So, how much is that? The Pulse hears you ask. Can you look out onto a park and visualise an acre? Probably not, so The Pulse will help you along. Think of an area which is as wide as a cricket pitch is long, and then walk for 220 yards. But since yards may also need converting, imagine 10 metres wide by 400 metres long. That's roughly one acre. Now multiply that by 22 - maybe multiply the width by 22 and leave the length the same - and the new area will be about 400 by 220 metres. Quite a fair sized garden, so must be in the countryside somewhere.

Where's the Inspector of Holes?

2007-10-08T16:21:00.000+01:00

Ted Hughes wrote a story entitled Meet My Folks. In the section called My Father, Hughes describes his father's job as The Chief Inspector of Holes. The Pulse is reminded of this every time he visits the town and seen abandoned holes in the pavement and the road, in the park and by the car park. They are dug, pipes or cables may be left sticking out of them, and then they seem to be abandoned for weeks on end. One hole, just in front of the swimming pool, has been there for over six months, beside the sawn-off base of a street lamp which came off worst in a dance with a van before last Christmas. The Pulse can tell how long holes have been in that condition by the amount of litter which has collected at the bottom. Why oh why can't these people who start a job jolly well finish it, clear up and disappear somewhere else?

As readers may already know The Pulse is fond of code word puzzles – in fact the whole family has frequent attacks of puzzle-itis of one kind or another, from crosswords and word searches to sodoku and logic puzzles. Even the little ones have discovered (or their mum has discovered on their behalf, bless her) that code word puzzles help them to discover the structure of words, the likely position of vowels in words and the frequency of different letters, ultimately helping to improve their little spellings. So GD drew up some grids with all 26 letters in the top row. He sought out several of the books lying around the living room and the little bedroom, picked a page at random, and between us the family worked out how many of each letter appeared on the page. Shhh; it was ever so quiet for the next half hour. We added up all the results for each letter to obtain 26 grand totals. Just what we thought – some letters are more frequent than others, from E at one extreme and Q at the other. You would not believe how, armed with this information, it helps to do a code word puzzle. Oh yes, truly.

You can't park here

2007-10-05T11:05:00.000+01:00

The Pulse has just received news that could plunge the village into darkness. The council is looking for ways of saving money. That's great of course, because whatever the council spends comes from our pockets, so we would like them to spend wisely. The proposal is to switch off the street lamps – all the time. Perhaps they will remove the posts and the cables too. But we need our lights so that we can see and be seen, and the lamps aren't very bright anyway. In and between the towns there are lamps which shine all the time, lighting our way in broad daylight. There are road signs with their own lamps which are never switched off. On many roads you need sun-glasses at night, the lamps are that bright. Now, get the towns sorted (it can't be difficult) and villages can keep their lights. OK?

There's maths in those parking signs, and we have found some signs where the maths doesn't add up or is confusing. How about looking for the number of hours you can park in one go, and how long you are required to take your car away for before you can return to the same parking area. Do the signs only refer to vans and lorries, or to cars as well? If it's yellow the times are when you can't park. In this picture there are two periods each day, so you've had it if you are a train commuter. For four hours a day you have to go elsewhere – that's 24 hours a week; how many in a year? The white part tells you when you CAN park – a six-hour period. However, you can park for only one hour at a time. If you park as soon as you are entitled to (10am) how long in total can you park before the next prohibition period begins (4pm)? Remember the "no return within 2 hours" condition. Let The Pulse know how you get on. There's a message board and email option at www.radarmaths.com

There I was, digging this hole

2007-10-03T17:21:00.000+01:00

This family – all of them, including The Pulse – have always been fascinated with the way things work. In fact, it has been known for one of us, who shall remain nameless, to take apart a newly purchased item of equipment just to discover what lies inside the casing. Nothing like being prepared for the moment the lawn mower or washing maching goes wrong and someone needs to find their way inside to put it right. Well, that's The Pulse's excuse anyway. While other people were interested in the boats and their occupants, the Pulses found the sea lock shown in the photograph of more concern. The little ones knew all about canal locks, but these have gates which are flat; whereas the gate we were looking at were curved into quarter circles and supported by lots of bracing. Before tackling this conundrum ice-creams were purchased from a nearby kiosk; then we set to work. Could be the seven year-old will become a right good engineer. Boy, won't we need them if the Severn Barrage gets the go ahead.

The next town is getting a new indoor swimming pool. The Pulses will be there at the front of the queue, but mean time a very large hole in the ground has been revealed between the orange supermarket and what they now call the cafe quarter. One of the builders told a representative of the family that the hole needs to be 50 metres long, 8 metres wide and an average 2 metres deep. So the volume of the hole is 800 cubic metres. However, the company told the local newspaper reporter that the amount of soil brought out of the hole is now in a pile of 1,500 cubic metres. Now how could this be? If any readers can explain we will all be able to rest more easily in our beds.

Tower full of custard

2007-09-26T15:07:00.000+01:00

How long does it take an idea to take shoot? If it is The Pulse who's thought of one it will be after the next coffee, or tomorrow when he has developed his idea further, usually on the back of the latest bank statement envelope, or – if it is an expensive idea – when there are enough pennies in the pocket. He recalls, about thirty years ago, this grand idea of digging yet another tunnel under the centre of London so that umpteen trains an hour could travel from west to east. That's a good one, and it's a pity nothing happened because The Pulse could have done with such a route at that time. Every so often the same idea surfaced again but was gently forgotten, presumably because of the cost. A few years ago up it came again, as Crossrail, and millions of pounds have already been spent on planning this time. But no-one has yet said, "ready, steady, GO." We are told we may expect an announcement this week. Oh yes? Thirty years seems such a long time to wait for a jolly good idea. Holding breath.

A weekend spent at the seaside is always a good idea, especially with the little ones, and the opportunity came to introduce the wonderful Southern Railway east coastway route to them and finish up at Eastbourne. We've done the "estimate how many stones are on the beach" problem plenty of times, with the younger one losing count after eighty-five! We sat for a while opposite one of those Martello towers designed to keep Nepoleon at bay, though it was difficult to explain why he couldn't have just walked around the outside; Nepoleon, that is. Never mind, let's get zany. Suppose, just suppose, you wanted to fill the inside right up to the brim with custard, what volume of custard would you need. Of course we would need to know the radius of the base (that's right, so we can work out the area of the ground the tower stands on). Then we would have to find the tower's height. It was the younger one who came up with the next problem. "The walls aren't upright, so the circle at the top is smaller than the one on the ground." Clever observation. We hope you work out a solution. Maybe you'll be quicker than the Pulse family.

Young Eyes

2007-09-20T17:22:00.000+01:00

As promised, The Pulse is about to reveal details about one of the buildings he visited during last weekend's Open House in London. Moorfields Eye Hospital is a well known landmark as well as being a wonderful place for many people who have had and continue to have eye treatment. However, until this year children have been treated in the same place as the grownups. Now the Richard Desmond wing has opened next door. It was the architect himself who conducted a tour around this exciting building, which has been designed in every way with young patients in mind. Colours, shapes, flow, materials and keeping children and their younger siblings engaged have all been answered by the design. There is even a floor at the top with accommodation for parents. Their website informs us that "The new facility is the largest hospital anywhere in the world solely dedicated to the prevention, treatment and cure of children’s eye disease. It provides world-class treatment, from the routine to the most rare and complex conditions, to the 25,000 plus paediatric patient attendances each year, together with appropriate support and high-quality, flexible accommodation for their families." So now you know. For further information go to www.moorfields.nhs.uk/aboutus/TheRichardDesmondChildrensEyeCentre

A school trip today to a Georgian town house for the older little one gave her the chance to create a little maths while she was there. It was one of those impulse things. In addition to the ground floor there were four other floors including a basement. Counting the steps on the staircase revealed 17 between each floor, but only 12 down to the basement. There was even a narrow staircase of 11 steps into the attic which is where she was told many of the servants lived. The top floor ceiling was not as high as the others. In a short wait for the other groups to return her group attempted to work out how many steps there were altogether. As the teacher said, the servants would certainly have kept fit. How many steps did you say?

Festival Time on Thames

2007-09-17T16:24:00.000+01:00

The South Bank is alive at most times, day or evening. Last weekend, however, was the occasion of the Thames Festival, an annual extravaganza of music, other entertainment and crafts along the length of the South Bank from Westminster Bridge to Tate Modern. To say that the embanked walkways were packed is an understatement. There were even men with loudhailers at the bridge where the path narrows, persuading them to take an alternative route. The pleasant sunny weather enabled families, couples and individuals to enjoy picnicking or engaging in corversation or games wherever there was space. It appeared to be an obligatory requirement that children should have their faces painted into lion look-a-likes: and proud they looked too! Grown-ups appeared not to be weary or short-tempered as they can sometimes be at the supermarket. This was the South Bank at its smiling and community best - just as long as you didn't want to walk anywhere quickly!

One of the premises which flung open their doors freely to all-comers at the weekend is normally open, but for a charge. The Pulse thought that was very generous of them and quite clearly a long queue of patient Weekenders thought so too. On the way back on the Docklands Light Railway, another wonder of the capital, The Pulse began to work out the cost of flinging wide the doors for no charge. The normal charge is £7; concessions £6 (parents may need to explain who is entitled to a concession). On inquiry he discovered a good Saturday could attract up to 750 of whom a third are entitled to concessions. One in five of the rest are children who are admitted at half price. So now it's not just their accountants who can calculate how much a typical summer Saturday take could be, not including printed guides, talking guides or purchases from the shop. Value for money all round, The Pulse declares – except, that is, for the building in question. Perhaps they did not realise.

Going round in circles

2007-09-14T10:10:00.000+01:00

After walking with the little ones past the farm and along to the school, The Pulse's thoughts turned to the weekend. He intends to let the rest of the family get on with things in their own way and investigate the inside a few of London's hidden buildings - those which are not normally open to the public. Open House Weekend has been a feature of the September events calendar for some years, and if the queue round the block at the Bank of England was anything to go by last year, OHW is more popular than ever. There is something about forbidden buildings where all you can normally do is gaze through the window or press your face against the railings. There will be amazing recollections for next week's blogs.

Circles are, regrettably, once more being drawn around farmland in Surrey after the latest foot-and-mouth outbreak. Reports of so many square miles being included in an exclusion zone are printed in the newspapers. Most of us are happy with calculating the area of a space as long as it is rectangular in shape. Length is multiplied by width and the answer is labelled in square metres or square miles. But you cannot measure the area of a circular shape in the same way. Fortunately there is a cunning little formula. Find the centre of the circle. Measure the distance, called the radius, from here to the circumference or boundary. Multiply this distance by itself. Now multiply the result by a number which all youngsters should learn in the end – 3.142. The number is called pi, but The Pulse won't bore you with the reason here. The answer to this second multiplication is the area of the circle. So if the radius is 2 miles, 2 times 2 is 4, and 4 x 3.142 is 12.568. The area of the circle is therefore 12.568 square miles. You see, it's easier than you think, and The Pulse family used it recently to work out the water surface area of the round pond in the front garden. Something to do with the number of fish we could keep in it – not as many as we had hoped.

Mine's a sixer

2007-09-12T09:35:00.000+01:00

As readers of this blog will already know The Pulse family are fond of the open air, whether in the garden, down to the farm, along the canal, up to local view points, or playing in the park. The little ones are able to play in the street and go round to their friends on their own. This is not because their parents are careless but because the offspring have been taught well to be careful and look after each other. Meanwhile, The Pulse himself has spent more time than is good for him indoors during the past few days. Research and writing is a rather sedentary activity and so it came as a blessed relief to discover a half-day free from the desk yesterday during which time he took a leisurely walk along the canal; there and back a respectable distance of five miles. In this time a round ten boats passed by, all of which were seen again at successive locks. There was also plenty of water fowl and song birds (not singing much at this time of year); the occasional horse with its head over the fence; and a couple of fields-worth of sheep. On a warm, breeze-less afternoon what better way of spending time!

The overhanging trees around the car park perimeter at one of the many lock-side inns were loaded with the fruits of the horse-chestnut. These seem to have matured much earlier this year. The absence of fallen fruits suggests that youngsters had already claimed the latest share the previous Sunday. So, expect serious conker battles over the next few days. There were no little ones with The Pulse yesterday to help estimate how many fruits a tree might produce, using only the evidence of what can be seen. The Pulse was on his own. His idea was to treat the tree as a circle and divide it into four, then four again. Count those fruits which can be seen and then multiply by eight. That's a lot of conker battles.

Winning with tradition

2007-09-08T18:24:00.000+01:00

Tis the Last Night of the Proms this evening. The Pulse writes that as if it is an event title in itself, but he knows of course that it is simply the last night of a series of concerts called The Promenade Concerts (Proms for short) held in London each summer at the Royal Albert Hall. It's a good job that maths is a bit more exact than the language we use to communicate with. Tonight, in addition to the main concert there will be a more relaxed Proms in the Park at Hyde Park and from a number of other locations around the UK. They are becoming a real tradition in themselves. We tend to do things by tradition in this country, and we don't like change. That's a pity because change is what keeps us alert and fresh.

You might think that anything to do with cricket is traditional and without change, but we have just completed a series of seven one-day matches against the touring team India. Now that's different. England and Wales won by 4 matches to 3. Which is close, but The Pulse believes that makes for a more interesting spectator competition. It would not have been half as good if the result was known after, for example, the fifth match. We now know the score was 4 matches to 3 in England's favour, but how many other results might there have been? Remember that any number of matches could have been drawn, which would have reduced the number available for one side or the other to win. You need to make a table to list the options. If you have ten minutes or so between other activities and you need some peace and quiet, why not try it. Shhh!

Old for new?

2007-09-06T14:21:00.000+01:00

Two days into the new term and the excitement of the little ones is heady in the air. One of the classrooms of the primary school has been re-decorated during the summer, and the new classroom begun in the back end of last year is now complete. Both Pulse children have benefited as one is in a new room and the other in a freshly painted room. There is news that the whole school may be replaced around 2065 - not long to wait then. Meanwhile there is better news on the secondary front as news released this morning showed a brand-new secondary school somewhere which looked more like an airport terminal with its vaulted ceilings and acreage (or should that be hectareage) of space. Millions, millions, millions. That's great to see, but The Pulse didn't find it difficult to find other photos, from places not so close to home. This one comes from Cambodia. No doubt the students are receiving wholesome instruction, and in any case, the style of learning will be different from the UK, but what would OFSTED have to say about stimulating resources on the walls, the condition of the desks, and even the way the students appear to be dressed. Different world.

In discovering a few "old-fashioned" questions on the website yesterday evening the little ones were intrigued by the measures used: tons, hundredweights, quarters and pounds - a sum with four columns and each one with a different number base. In the good old days there were 16 ounces in a pound-weight, 28 pounds in a quarter, four quarters in a hundredweight (shortened to cwt), and 20 cwts in a ton. So we sat down for a while without the television and worked out a few addition sums. Because they didn't have to do them for homework they took great delight in such strange mathematics. The Pulse feels sure that today, in News Time, they will both have entertained their teacher and friends with strange magic to do with imperial units. Powerful stuff is maths.

Locks and quays

2007-09-02T09:51:00.000+01:00

Well, this is the final weekend of the school holiday and the family Pulse is off on one final day out, and the weather seems set fair. Everyone has enjoyed taking to the canals during the past few weeks and have discovered aspects of the network of which we were ignorant before. The mileposts to Stoke Bruerne, for example: for the first time we could really know how long it takes - and what it feels like - to walk one mile. The little ones have been given lifts from one lock to the next by friendly holidaymakers on their narrowboats and have helped out on several occasions with the process of opening, closing, filling and emptying locks. Where on earth does all that water end up? The family greets everyone as they pass either on the water or the towpath. Those little hump-back bridges which take the towpath from one side to the other have beaten us all when on our bikes and The Pulse is bemused how the horses which pulled the boats in yesteryear managed to deal with the steep gradient.

Spot the speed limit sign. On the canal you can walk beside a moving boat quite easily - about 3 or 4 mph. On the roads if you go that slow, except in a traffic queue, the drivers behind will quickly let you know their feelings. There's a chorus from the back whenever the little ones spot a limit change sign. "Forty!" "Thirty!" "Missed that one, oh, there are street lamps, does that mean thirty?" "Are you sure you're doing fifty GD?" It does give everyone a much better idea of how fast a particular speed is. And because the limit along the Pulse's road is 20, the little ones can test their running speed with a car travelling along the road. What a busy life. The Pulse - and the rest of the family - wish all junior members a great start to the new term.

Bob Tanner in old money.

2007-08-28T11:21:00.000+01:00

Prayers have at least been answered for the Bank Holiday weekend and the weather excelled itself for once. Warmth and sunshine certainly bring out the best in people. The family had heard from friends how they had greatly enjoyed themselves on Sunday and yesterday at Carnival, that spectacle of music, dance, food and good company (if the crowded streets are anything to go by) held each year in Notting Hill, London. Photos emailed to the family's bulging computers illustrate a vibrant and rhythmic celebration. The Pulse has been to Carnival in previous years and will no doubt do so again, but for 2007 - just to prove that the world does not begin and end west of Paddington - the village has been doing some celebrating of its own. Five hundred years exactly after the founding of the church (and who knows, maybe even the digging of the village pond!) most people hereabouts thoroughly enjoyed themselves at Our Carnival. The little ones designed and made their own costumes and the trailer was hitched to the car and the Pulses joined in the musical parade. Please don't ask what the costumes represented; The Pulse is still confused: the nearest he can get would be sixteenth century traffic wardens that stage endless battles with carts which wouldn't keep moving along the pot-holed track, aka Upper High Street and Home Farm Road. Nothing much seems to have changed since. So that's another two-groat fine then!

"Remember when a pint of bass (or milk) cost 1/5 and you could get dinner for less than 7 bob?" This advertisement sung out of the page of the latest edition of the consumer magazine "Which?" When GD showed this to his young charges earlier this morning he was expecting disdainful replies around foreign languages, double-Dutch, Greek, derr ..., is this code, and so on. But no, even the 7 year old worked out that 1/5 was old money for about 7 pence; and as for the older little one, she's fascinated by the nicknames we gave our coins. A bob was, of course, a shilling. They've now taken themselves off upstairs to invent a few nicknames for the modern coinage. Which gives The Pulse time to post this. Oh, and no, neither of them could understand that a pint of bass was definitely not a fish in a jar. The word (milk) incidentally was added by the author!

Good morning everyone

2007-08-24T16:16:00.000+01:00

For those who think this country is going to the dogs, The Pulse would like to suggest there is a minor miracle happening almost daily throughout the land. Thousands of men and women are paid to visit every single address in the UK mainland and the isalnds on six days in every week. They are the post men and women of Royal Mail. Of course some addresses will be missed simply because there will be no letter - or junk mail. But the postie is usually passing by, and if an occupier needs urgent help, is on his or her own or is unable to get out, the postie could be their lifeline.

With The Pulses taking leave of their senses so near a Bank Holiday they have decided to visit the beaches of the south-west for three days. The sun is warming, the water smooth and tempting and there is so much space for you-know-who without the worry about the ball going over next door's fence. The postman even delivered an urgent letter to the small house which has become Pulse Repose in Devon. So if you find sand in the blog, like sand in the lunchtime sandwiches, you will know a wireless connection has been made via a wonderful beach cafe with cream cakes and smoothies aplenty. What progress.

The Pulse's grandparents remembered, after breakfast one day, writing a letter to friends on the other side of the city inviting them to tea later that day. The letter was duly posted, collected and delivered. The friends penned a reply of acceptance which was in turn posted, collected and delivered to his grandparents by the 2pm delivery. The friends turned up for tea at 3.30pm. These of course were the days before most people had phones and the blessed internet was nearly a century in the future. So, is it possible to map out a chart showing what happened to these two letters and the approximate time of each stage in the process? Remember, this all happened ON THE SAME DAY. Would all stages take the same amount of time or would one or two take longer than others? Now there's a great table-top family activity for a soggy afternoon.

We want some more

2007-08-22T10:12:00.000+01:00

Well, our canal walk and ride did finally take place, but not on the day expected - the weather, you understand. The distance, of some miles, certainly tested one member of the family, and it wasn't the little ones or their parents! At least The Pulse didn't have to make the dinner at the end of the day.

Another recent event to cheer about, and which The Pulse would heartily recommend to everyone, is the collection of wonderful guided walks exploring the nooks and crannies of inner London. The one which the family joined was Charles Dickens' London, around the Inns of Court on the city boundary. Led by the irrepressible Jean, she kept everyone mesmerised for two hours - that being a feat in itself for a family of energetic children! You need some imagination in places as some of Dickens' buildings are no longer standing, and it helps if you know the novels. Having discovered this treasure there are probably another thirty of forty different walks to keep the family going for years to come whever they visit the metropolis.

So how far do you actually walk? Our's was about two and a quarter hours. We estimated that we had paused in approximately 10 places for an average of 7 minutes at each location. That's 70 minutes standing or sitting (on steps, kerb edges, low wall parapets and so on), leaving one hour and five minutes walking at a gentle pace, chatting to fellow members of the party, which was around 60 strong. Assuming walking at up to 3 miles per hour, the total distance covered would therefore be approximately two and a half miles. Some good maths there, and, on a practical note, a good contribution towards keeping healthy. Ace!

Lock them in

2007-08-18T12:18:00.000+01:00

It's about time the family stretched their legs. All that news this week about thirty minutes of gentle walking exercise has made The Pulse think. Just how much walking does everyone do? Well, you can forget the walking for the little ones; they are both programmed to run. Run in the form of "get there in the quickest time before my sibling, my parents or even GD", and The Pulse can still put on a fair blast of energy when he wants to. Thirty minutes is no problem either for the older little one, as she has joined the local athletic juniors and may yet be a contender in 2012. All this frenetic activity, of course, burns up much energy which needs replenishing. So, once more, off to the local shop for supplies and because we intend to go via the farm and the little river (bigger river recently) there's a scramble for the wellies. Nothing done by halves.

Just in case The Pulse has no energy left for a further blog tomorrow he wants to let everyone know that the plan for Sunday is rather more ambitious. As the canal is not far away and the locks are always favourite spots, the family with backpacks, bikes and all, is hoping to part cycle, part walk, a few miles along the towpath and up to a splendid viewpoint which is a favourite spot of the Pulse family. Now, The Pulse is going to inject a bit of maths along the way (medicine disguised as jam). How long is 100 metres? Shall we stop again when we think we have cycled a mile? Shall we swap backpacks after ten minutes? Can we estimate the length of the lock? So how long is the next boat we spot? How many people have we seen travelling in the other direction? That kind of thing. The little ones will love it – they always do, because they love jam. Medicine makes you better, but jam is for shear enjoyment. Should be a good day, so long as it doesn't rain.

Seven for the price of one?

2007-08-15T13:48:00.000+01:00

The family has been trying a little experiment – the family is always trying little experiments. Having seen several reports over the past year or so about something called a green roof there was a television programme this week showing large office buildings, which usually have flat roofs, being carpeted with plants that can cope with little water, including grasses and sedums. It just sounded like a great thing to try, but on a small scale. The little ones came up with the idea of the chicken shed, partly because it is small in area and partly because it is lower than the shed and the garage; this means the results can be seen and enjoyed by the family and not just by overflying birds. Timber is needed to support the frame, just in case the shed itself won't take the weight of wet soil. Yes, it was supposed to be a day's job, but has already taken a week, what with the rain and other more child-important tasks (can we go to the country park?); this being the middle of the school holiday. So that everyone could take part in planting up, The Pulse made a temporary platform so that little hands could reach. You don't get instant results here so everyone will have to be patient. Very patient.

Books of stamps come in fours and 12s. Multi packs of orange juice are in sixes. The baked beans multi-packs are shrink-wrapped in eights. The smelly candles came in a box of 9 and those which are in little aluminium cases and which The Pulse used to know as nightlights, are in a polythene wrap of 144 - well that should keep us going for a while. Now when you buy more than one of something which multiple is the most common? Between us the family thinks they have found examples of most numbers up to 20. But as for 7, 11, 13, 17 and 19, not a single example. Is there something which links these numbers? Time for trawling www.radarmaths.com for an explanation.

Bong, bong, bong

2007-08-10T10:46:00.000+01:00

One newspaper at least this morning displayed a close-up photograph of four spidermen slung by ropes and were busy cleaning one of the clock faces of St Stephen's Tower, commonly known as Big Ben, probably London's most famous landmark. The Pulse had never looked closely at this clock previously and, thanks to the photographer, he could see clearly that the Roman number four is IV. To his mind this correct. On many clocks with Roman markings four is shown as IIII. Expect much response from readers who obviously know better and will put The Pulse in his place. Anyway, not having a good head for heights, he is turning the page over – too much looking at these four brave souls is making him feel giddy.

Every so often is heard a phrase like "as genuine as a nine pound note". Of course, in The Pulse's early days the phrase went "as genuine as a nine bob note"; the word being common parlance for a shilling (now five pence). How times have changed. But what does a nine pound note look like? Of course, it doesn't exist, and that's the whole point. But what if it did; how useful would it be? Are there any other coins or notes which would also be useful? The idea is that you have the smallest number of different coins and notes to cover all of the different prices without having to keep large numbers of each coin or note to pay for your needs. Why not take ten prices at random – anything up to £10. Then work out what would be the smallest number of coins and notes needed to make up each price. The Pulse will be trying that one out later with the family. Now there must be a largest number in the range, and he is looking forward to discovering what it is. "Sorry, I haven't anything smaller!"

Nelson's hub

2007-08-06T11:43:00.000+01:00

There's a real buzz about a number of public places in the capital, and Trafalgar Square is one of them. Once you forget the diesel fumes hanging in the roads along the perimeter the public pedestrian space in the centre is a wonderful meeting place. Look and listen for a while and you sense that representatives of the world have congregated under Nelson's gaze. The family arrived yesterday and sheltered from the heat awhile under the porticos at the end of The Strand, before mingling with the thousands for an entertaining dance spectacle which formed part of the India festival this summer. What a way to spend a Sunday afternoon; youngsters leaning agains the lions, lines of lightly clothed, water-bottle-in-hand, men and women lining Nelson's steps, inquisitive visitors leaning over the nearby parapets. Though the attentions of some were diverted to the business of keeping cool in the waters of the fountain pool, they would have absorbed the intoxicating music which swirled its way from the loudspeaker banks nearby. Wonderful stuff.

How many different numbers do we absorb and recall during our lifetimes? Even the little ones have memorised the numbers their parents and The Pulse have taught them: 999, the house number, the house phone number and three mobile numbers, their dates of birth, computer passwords and the car registration numbers - even though most of the characters are letters these days. For the rest of us there are credit card numbers, PINs, other memorable dates, prices. We seem to instinctively know when the price of a product has increased since the last time we saw it. Here's a variation on the ever-popular Kim's game. Collect a few objects and sticky labels. Randomly write some prices, one per object. Give each member of the family time to absorb the information and then each in turn try to remember the price of the objects. Of course, the secret is in finding a way of relating a china cat with its chosen value of £4.50. Remembering any number is probably easier for all of us if we have something to relate it to. Certainly The Pulse could never remember one pin without recalling an engaging holiday in Crete in, now what year was it?

Since sliced bread

2007-08-04T15:16:00.000+01:00

As with many mornings recently the garden (or the garage when wet) has buzzed with the sounds of other people's children, the friends of this family's youngest. The Pulse takes charge, like a senior park-keeper, not so much to organise, but to make sure the plants aren't trampled on, that drinks are dispensed sensibly when required and to ensure that everything is put away after use. The young ones enjoy themselves, mix more-or-less sociably and are actively engaged in something physical while their respective parents are at work earning a crust or two. Even on Saturdays. The little ones may only be young but their parents don't mind too much if they decide to walk down the road to their friends, or go to the park or visit our local shops. They know how to look after each other and stay safe, and their parents' risk assessment is judged at lightening speed - common sense prevails. Now, after lunch the GD role has been taken over by a younger generation and The Pulse has stolen a couple of quiet hours in the study to add another blog. Summer holidays can be a real delight, a mix of responsibility and rest, serious tasks and quite a bit of fun. Swimming tomorrow; who's coming?

It amazes The Pulse how much we lazily rely on a few stock phrases to sum up a situation. Yesterday a well-known presenter was attempting to explain the unusual-ness of a book he had just finished: "the best read since sliced bread". The Pulse's parents didn't much believe in sliced bread and so was taught at an early age how to cut a loaf, but inevitably there were variations between doorsteps and wafers. Do you know how many slices to a large (or small) loaf? If each member of the family consumes x slices each day, how many large loaves of bread does the family need each time at the weekly shopping trip? And do you include or exclude the crusts? Extra complication of course; you could choose from thin, medium or thick. So, go on, how many thick slices in a large loaf?

Don't forget to visit www.radarmaths.com for this blog's main site.

A thousand miles of water

2007-08-02T17:14:00.000+01:00

The patient people who live in Gloucestershire have finally been rewarded today as fresh water has again reached their taps. Let's hope that if they were out when it arrived they had previously turned their taps off, or there will be another domestic flood. It must be frustrating for them that even now they will not be in a postition to drink it; presumably because of the risk of contamination in the empty pipes. Which brings me to the point. It's not something you normally think about, but the local water company had announced that, once the liquid leaves their treatment works, it must first fill a thousand miles of pipes before it reaches any taps. A thousand miles! That's probably very nearly a reservoir full. And there's the irony. After all that rain you would have thought there would be plenty to spare, but once the reservoirs are full, they're full. The rest - well, that's floods for you.

The Pulse had his orders this morning and made a trip to the supermarket, list in hand. At the fresh fruit and veg section he noticed just how many shoppers made the decisive choice to pick up pre-packed items. Apples came in bags or fours in a tray; broccoli was nicely wrapped in clingfilm. Tomatoes were in moulded boxes with transparent tops. There were even bananas in blister packs. In each case sat piles of the same products loose which you could bag yourself or put straight into the trolley. OK, so what? Well this is one example: broccoli in clingfilm – £1.52 per pound (The Pulse prefers it to kilograms when he's shopping), but broccoli loose £1.35 per pound. By buying loose The Pulse saved 17p per pound. Taking that as an average, with 8 different products a saving of £1.36 would have been achieved. How much saving would your family make at the next supermarket visit?

Be prepared

2007-07-30T15:09:00.000+01:00

Today thousands of members of the worldwide Scout Association are presumably enjoying themselves at Hylands Park, Essex, at the first world jamboree of scouts and guides to be held in the UK for fifty years. The Pulse just recalls the previous occasion at Sutton Park, Sutton Coldfield, in which he was privileged to take part. The mammoth task of arranging such an occasion is always eclipsed by the awesome atmosphere of small groups of young people who do know each other, and are yet surrounded by countless thousands who are unknown and often speak a different tongue. Yet all are friendly, there are many smiles and rather a lot of sign language. The Pulse had a camera in 1957 and probably took 8 shots, that being the limit of a roll of film. Today, doubtless every participant is equipped with a digital camera and a supply of flashcards and spare batteries. So, hello to all scouts and guides at the jamboree, and to the thousands of others holding smaller festivals around the UK in this their centenary year. The picture, incidentally features scouts helping out in 1918.

The papers today have grabbed the news that a number of managers from the Environment Agency were last year awarded bonuses to supplement their salaries. The Pulse has not discovered why, but wouldn't have minded one himself of the size indicated in the press. How much? We were given a clue: five figures. Five figures! So what would be the smallest and the largest bonus possible with five figures? Well, the range is from £10,000 to £99,000. Even the lower is a handsome sum on top of what someone is normally paid. You could discover the range if bonuses were 4-figure sums, or even 6-figure sums! The Pulse is green - that's the colour for envy.

Go on, guess

2007-07-26T16:20:00.000+01:00

Now, what do you suppose is the subject of today's photograph? In this household a considerable number of printed pages are disgorged from the printer attached to various computers. Many come from the internet, but others are printed copies of photos the family members have taken. So, the six cartridges lodged inside the printer are regularly being replaced. In fact, the blinking red light which warns of the imminent exhaustion of a colour is rarely resting. Imagine The Pulse's annoyance one inquisitive recent wet day (the wetness of the day is irrelevant) when he decided to tear away - with some difficulty - the sticky plastic which hides a little secret. Even the younger little one could estimate the amount of ink remaining; about 20% or one fifth. Considering each cartridge costs about £12, every time the (not very) empty cartridge is thrown away the family is throwing nearly £2.50, or £15 for the set. Ink which has not been used. Have you checked how much ink you are throwing away?

"2m Britons have chance to track convict cousins" went the headline yesterday. Wow! Two million people in the UK could claim to have a relative in former times who was sent to Australia's former convict colonies. Except that, when readers read the text it isn't 2,000,000; but 163,000. It is of course reasonable for headline writers to round numbers, but how close are these two numbers? How many Britons, in the end, would not after all be able to find convicted relatives? Yes, that's right, the headline writer has added another 25%. How about 1.6m?

Wet wet wet

2007-07-23T14:26:00.000+01:00

It is most unlikely that The Pulse has any readers from flooded areas continuing to follow RDBD at present - they have other priorities. For this family the start of the holidays has been rather more casual than The Pulse predicted. After all the hype about Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows the little ones with their mum and GD sauntered into the local supermarket the following morning and picked up a copy with no fuss or queues. At least that has sorted the older one out for the next few days - and she is forbidden to let anyone else know how things work out. The Pulse and the younger one donned our wellies and cowered under brollies to see how the river was flowing. Although a lengthy walk at least it is downhill so the likelihood of this side of town and the village being submerged is slight. The farmer has moved his cattle on to higher ground, displacing the sheep who now occupy the terrace field. Well, the river was certainly swollen and the little beach where children and dogs play was nowhere to be seen. Everyone is nevertheless very thankful and send thoughts to those whose homes have become submerged.

Did you hear of the billionaire who has decided to give away one billion pounds to charitable causes? What a great position to be in to be that generous. He is reputed to have said, "My wife Marion and myself are going to leave this world as we came into it - pretty much with nothing." The Pulse will probably do the same, the difference being he will not have given away a billion pounds first! But can we find out what such a large number really is? According to the Americans it is one thousand million (a million one thousand times over). Over here a billion is a million million (a million times a million). If we are offered such a sum we had better check it will be the British version! As this is being typed the younger little one is trying to prove he can reach a billion before tea time - but he may announce he's got there just after he's counted to 100. Ah well, a little more learning.

Rain, rain, go away

2007-07-20T15:17:00.000+01:00

The Pulse has been thinking of the summer holidays. His last true day of peace and quiet before the little ones return ready to be entertained for the next six weeks; what fun. The plan had been to indulge in some relaxation watching the Open from Carnoustie and listening to the First Test against India from Lord's. In the kitchen at midday it was dark enough to have lights on and outside it was wet enough to launch a boat. Guess is that the heavens will open once more five minutes before the children leave their classrooms this afternoon. Brolly and wellies will be at the ready.

Time to find the jam-jar golf. This is a self-invented game from last year in which various jars, large and small, were painted different colours to represent times tables. Marbles of various colours are used as golf balls and small dowels as golf clubs. It is a hands-and-knees job. The marbles are selected blind. Each player has to correctly call the answer to the times table question formed from the jar times the marble. If not correct he misses his go. If correct, the marble is putted into the jar. His score is the answer minus the number of strokes needed to get it there. If it goes in, but rolls out again, his score is halved (to the next whole number). This game can be played indoors if wet, or outdoors on a grander scale to make it more challenging.

Time to walk down past the farm to the school to meet the little ones for the last time this term. After two hours of blue sky, guess what's piling up across the other side of the river. And was that thunder? Thought so; a drenching coming up.

When the cat's away

2007-07-15T14:25:00.000+01:00

Whenever The Pulse returns from a trip away - he will call them conferences but the rest of the family always think of the time as an additional holiday with bottled water, late starts and early finishes - he always finds a reason why he should not have gone, apart from the jealousy, that is. Lucky for him that he had taken a picture of rather old-fashioned, but lovely biscuit tin sometime back; because the original has ended up being sent for scrap while there was no-one to object. It was something to do with "having a good clear-out; getting rid of the junk". Although only made last year The Pulse was taken with the style of the picture, and he poses the question, how many features shown would not feature in a family scene today, and why? He is going to break the normal rule and display a large version of the photograph.

The family has also been spending some money on non-essentials, but in this case The Pulse approves. New in the garden is a box which looks rather like an old treasure chest. It is a game called Smite. Numbered pegs - well-designed self-standing tubes with numbers cut at an angle into the top - are set up on the ground. Another bamboo-like tube is thrown. The player adds together the total of the pegs he has knocked over. Leastways, that's what the little ones have decided and since they have lost the rule sheet already, who can say differently. They also used two rubber quoits. Each of them places a quoit over a peg of their choice first of all. If the peg in the red quoit is hit that number is doubled. The blue quoit counts as a cube - that's because the older one was told about cube numbers at school last week and she wanted to impress GD, and it worked. The rest of the Radar team now know of this game and say they will feature it on the main site shortly.

Flyers and new areas

2007-06-29T19:28:00.000+01:00

Today The Pulse is not going to ramble on about the wet weather, or British players now absent from the singles events at Wimbledon. Nor is he relating domestic events, even though there are plenty. For once he wants everyone to know one or two recent developments at Radar Mathsclub at www.radarmaths.com

Today a new set of flyers is available on the site - see the Welcome page - on the theme of physical activity and sport. One of the images obtained is shown here. Flyers are great, since you can print one of your choice and give it to a friend who you think might be interested in Radar Mathsclub. Of course, you could go the whole hog and print all of them; there are currently eight in the series. Alternatively you can capture it as a file and attach it to an email. Either way, more people get to know how special Radar Mathsclub is - because you've told them.

Two new areas have been introduced: Games and Activities aims to illustrate maths-related games and other activities which can be played with other people; not the electronic variety, but the kind in which one or two people can be sociable and enjoy doing something together. To begin with the many activities introduced by the Department for Education and Skills have been installed.

Finally, Maths Top Tips pulls together all sorts of useful tips for improving your maths skills. Tips will be introduced gradually and it is hoped that members will offer their own. Both of these new areas are free to use, so you do not have to be a member. But if you want to enjoy the rest of Radar Mathsclub there's no getting around it; but great value nevertheless.

Back to normal next week.

The hills are alive

2007-06-28T16:17:00.000+01:00

Life is full of risks. With the un-summery weather we have been experiencing recently it was certainly a risk deciding to make a day's walk along the long-distance path on the spine of the Chiltern Hills. Enjoying the vista viewpoints along lengths of elevated ground makes a welcome change from life in the family routine. For a day, it was someone else's job to feed the chickens, to collect the milk from the farm, to make sure the little ones did their homework on return from school, to pick the raspberries from the garden and the allotment. The one thing The Pulse did arrange was collect the morning paper and, looking at the front page, was pleased he could safely leave organising the new Cabinet to the new prime minister, Mr Brown. Risk? Good move. No rain, only moderate breeze, visibility excellent. The only disappointment was the news which came through that Tim Henman took it close to the wire and lost his second round match. Today's post is therefore being transmitted wirelessly from a magnificent seated location high above the old coaching town of Dunstable. Miracles. Today's photo is courtesy of Martyn Loach because The Pulse was forgetful and left his camera at home.

Go for a walk, count a hundred paces. How far have you travelled? When your dad walks a hundred paces how much further has he travelled? The Pulse encountered a party of children with their teachers and other adults. Once they had got the idea that normal steps rather than stretched paces were needed, their stopping positions were remarkably varied. Now, was it age, or expertness at maths, or talkability, or some other factor that determined who was the furthest ahead after a hundred steps? Yes, that's right; how did you guess?

Wettest for 50 years?

2007-06-25T14:37:00.000+01:00

Never let it be said that the climate in our islands is uninteresting. Not a week after the summer's longest day comes a promise that today will be the wettest for 50 years - possibly not everywhere and here in mid-country, although squelchy underfoot and uncomfortably wet while carrying out the essential outdoor chores, there have not (yet) been the floods some have unfortunately experienced. No doubt tomorrow's papers will tell us exactly how wet today will have been, but in the meantime, 50 years converts to over 18,000 days, of which, possibly 20% could expect to include some rain - that's The Pulse's estimate so if any reader has a better proportion perhaps they would be good enough to email ask@radarmaths.com. That would be over 3,500 periods of rain. And today has been the worst of them! Apparently.

Saturday was the final of the Eastbourne Women's Tennis Tournament between Justine Henin and Amelie Mauresmo. Today's picture comes courtesy of one of thousands who witnessed a well-balanced match, resulting in a win for Justine Henin from Belgium. The Pulse caught sight of the scoreboard. Parents can engage with their children on the kind of scores the board will and will not display. For example, any combination of two numbers up to 6, including identical numbers, is possible while a set of games is in progress, but the set is only complete if one player reaches 6 and the other has two or more games fewer. Where the score is 7:6 it is the result of a 6:6 tie followed by an extra game as a decider; hence 7:6. The Pulse apologises to those readers who already know this information, but there will be many who do not. The numbers of points in a game are given on the right (here blank as the match is complete), the current time and, behind the umpire's chair, the time the match took to complete. The Pulse bets that, like his own family, thousands will sit through the next fortnight carrying out their own mental agility on the scores from Wimbledon. Weather permitting of course.

The Pulse's favourite

2007-06-22T09:44:00.000+01:00

A short while back there was a minor storm over the choice of official Olympic logo for 2012. There followed a flourishing artistic flow of new logos. Some of these were back-of-the-envelope jobs, while others turned out like finished products. The Pulse was impressed and promised to let all and sundry into his secret winner. Of course, nothing is easy, and it turned out that no-one in the Pulse household selected the same alternative logo. However, since it is The Pulse who writes this blog, it is The Pulse's personal choice which prevails. As the logo gets uploaded there are one or two stroppy faces in the kitchen, but they'll get over it.

A parcel arrived unexpectedly in the post the other day (not that parcels are unexpected in the post, just that the family did not recall ordering anything). Friends in USA had come across a table-top game called Smath, which is rather like Scrabble for maths. They kindly "gifted" it to us. The board contains bonus squares, each player has a collection of tiles, and each player can use tiles already on the board. The idea is to place complete and correct arithmetical equations on the board using the numbers, operator signs and equals tiles in his possession. Since the Pulses enjoy a spot of Scrabble from time to time the first game of Smath was attempted last evening. How successful? Well, not so easy as you might think, because you might end up with only division operator tiles, and you can make it more complicated with brackets. Oh yes, there are brackets tiles too. Needless to say, the little ones were rather later to bed. Yawn.

Springwatch

2007-06-19T20:02:00.000+01:00

What a fantastic three weeks has just been enjoyed each evening watching the birds and animals engaging in their springtime behaviours in the BBC's Springwatch. There's as much tension as in any drama; as much comedy as in any soap; as much scenery as in any travelogue. It beats any human reality television programme paws down! And, of course, all those programmes which pretend to find aspirational homes on the Algarve for couples aiming to sell their one home, yet buy two more, could only come second place to busy animals and birds whose diy skills fashion perfectly functional homes for their broods without spending so much as a penny on a mortgage. Envy. Picture courtesy BBC.

The Pulses have taken the plunge in using what is called a journey planner online. The opportunity came because the tribe is off to see relatives across country in Durham. With thousands of stations and so many different routes the computer which sorted through the family's demands must have been running red hot. The Pulse tried to explain to the little ones with the help of a nominal collection, first of five stations and then of ten stations. On a sheet of paper we arranged these in a rough circle, giving them interesting (and slightly daft) names. They took it in turns to join each station to every other station in the mini-network. It's rather like finding out how many diagonals there are in a polygon. Except, on the railway, of course, Padwick to Quack is not the same route option as Quack to Padwick. Oh dear, The Pulse has started something here. They now want to find out how many options there would be for a twenty-station network. Hang on though, there might be a formula here. Now The Pulse has to explain the word formula to a seven-year old. Here goes.

Loads of boxes

2007-06-18T19:03:00.000+01:00

It's moving time for the family across the road. A pile of flat-pack cardboard boxes arrived and over the past few days these have been filled, sealed and labelled; being stacked eight or nine high in the garage. There are three different sizes, and it struck The Pulse that it would be very easy to calculate the contents of the household fairly accurately - minus furniture of course - because it would be possible to discover the volume of each of the three different types of box. The little ones are a little young yet for volume, but they are part-way there and know how to find the area of a shape. Of course, in a few weeks' time a new family will arrive and carry out the exact opposite process, a kind of symmetrical process from start to finish.

Like most families The Pulses tend to make one supermarket visit each week, but use the local shops for top-ups and special items. The little ones had been given a small list and a five pound note and The Pulse accompanised them to the great local shops down the road in the village. Although the £5 could be topped up with change from The Pulse's pocket, he chose to make the trip a little more interesting. How about they try and get as many items on the list as possible, making the value as close to £5 as possible. The aim is to try for as little change as possible. Not quite so easy as it sounds. Do they go for a large loaf and more change, or a small loaf, leaving some room for the sliced ham? Can we afford 6 slices, or maybe the thinner slices would cost less. Triumph! 7p change. Shopping is not a mindless exercise; you need to think, and goodness, did they think.

Loose change

2007-06-15T17:06:00.000+01:00

The Pulse recalls coursework being part of his exams - just. Not just in the sense that it is difficult to remember, but just in the sense that the coursework element was one item each in English, Geography and History. It took about two weeks overall and it was mainly researched in the splendid public library. If you wanted to use actual content from a book you had to quote and mention the author by name. If you didn't you could be sure the teacher would know because he or she was familar with the book! In any case, the teacher also knew each student's style and it would have been a dead giveaway if your style suddenly became more mature part way through. The internet is a wonderful invention but there is probably just too much information out there - The Pulse is excluding this post of course.

One of the occasional little jobs which engages The Pulse took place again this morning. He is in the habit of throwing all of his change into a handy wooden box with a hinged lid, and removing some each day before leaving the house - just in case. When the lid will no longer close, he spreads the contents out and the process of sorting and counting begins. If the little ones are around then it is an enjoyable shared task. Piles of coins of each denomination are built - ones and twos up to 10p; silver up to £1 Out come the bank bags and we place a pound's-worth of bronze or five pounds-worth of silver in each bag, only returning to the box what is left over. The children have discovered that the most frequent coins in the box are always ones and fives. On Monday all those bags will be exchanged at the bank for a surprisingly few number of pound coins!

It's strawberry time

2007-06-12T16:52:00.000+01:00

It seems to The Pulse that an awful lot of people muscle in on what should and should not be taught in schools. Form an orderly queue if you want to add your ideas to the list. He was reading in the paper yesterday of a new assessment of where education in the UK has reached after the last 18 years or so. The Pulse does not normally involve himself in political rantings in this blog, but politicians of all hues appear to have been at the front of the mentioned queue rather a lot, coupled with the various teams of officers - or civil servants - in ministries and quangoes in London, London or London, but mainly London. Not much has been seen of our Children's Wonderful Teachers in line, offering what usually turn out to be common sense solutions. But then, our CWTs are almost always far too busy training themselves up for the next front-of-the-line idea. When not training or doing, they are often too exhausted to stand in any kind of line.

If this family don't look like strawberries at the moment they certainly will by this time next week. With the fruits in the garden and on the allotment there is a definite abundance of them, and to cap it all, what did the Pulses decide to do for an afternoon trip at the weekend? Strawberry picking at the local PYO place. Nice and social you see. The little ones also got some useful maths out of it. Numbers of fruits per punnet, number of punnets per family member, weight per punnet, proportion of fruits weighed in to those eaten on the way there, and of course, the average punnets/weight per person. Oh, they had a fine time. Of course, The Pulse won hands down because he had the discipline not to eat any. Tee hee! Oh well, only one ... or maybe two.

The sky at night

2007-06-06T19:21:00.000+01:00

Would The Pulse be treading on anybody's toes in expressing the opinion that the Olympic Games logo is stunning - except, not for the Olympic Games. But he does like some of the other offerings which have been pouring onto the internet in the past few days. There must be lots of celebrations and events taking place in 2012, so the chosen logo could apply to any of them. In the logo there should be something about London, sport, multi-national, celebration and culture - or maybe three out of those four. If The Pulse had known about the competition he thinks he might have had a go. The fee would have come in handy. Anyway he will consider the offerings and post his winner here in a few days.

The press this morning was proud to know that there are apparently 236 planets. Now, when the family looked them up in the book of knowledge, they could only discover nine. It seems that someone has jolly good eyesight and can peer into other galaxies towards over 200 more dancing around other suns in a carefree kind of way. Looking up at a starry sky last evening one little one and his dad were busy trying to count the stars in the sky. A hopeless task for an almost limitless number. The Pulse got on rather better because he counted only the big'uns. Sometimes you can look so hard the small stars seem to disappear before your eyes. How many? Well, not counting the aircraft lights, there were at least ... must stop now: crick in the neck. There must be an easier way.

A pile of Phone Books

2007-06-04T15:02:00.000+01:00

The problem with half-term holidays is that it is so easy to fall behind with regular jobs. The routines built up during the term seem to break apart. To compensate, the family did undertake some pretty energetic and sometimes unusual activities - mainly planned during the first two days while the weather was so wet. The County Show beckoned, and the little ones thoroughly enjoyed the cattle, horses, sheep and pigs, but mostly rides on tractors and ice creams! For some time we have visited a little house on the corner of a farm, which has no roof, no windows and where the carpet is a bed of weeds 5 feet high. Presumably once it was a farm worker's cottage. A trip to Monkey World, as featured in ITVs Monkey Business, was also fitted in. The Pulse thinks the little ones prefer animals to other humans, including himself!

There was a time when The Pulse regularly made reference to what is known as the local Phone Book. Almost everyone who had a phone was in there. In the days before mobile phones and devices to store all your likely numbers, the Phone Book was a wonderful resource. Today it holds the kitchen door open. Apparently, each year one million (1,000,000) trees are cut down and 44 million Phone Books are made from them. So there's a nice little calculation for a start. Two-thirds of householders do not even get round to removing the plastic cover from the 70 million books delivered. Another calculation. All of these books amount to 57,000 tons, which, we are informed, makes a pile 1,000 miles high - or, presumably, 1,000 piles each one mile high. The Pulse can visualise that much better. The trouble is, he always needs the book right at the bottom.

Ace of spades

2007-05-28T17:12:00.000+01:00

Today has definitely been an inside day. No allotment, no taking rubbish to the local tip, no visits to the farm to see the cows. Time, instead, to tidy up, write letters, clear out the shed and tick off more of those little repair and maintenance jobs which we never see the end of. The chickens didn't seem to mind pecking about though, and between them they managed to produce 5 brown eggs.

The Pulse is now searching for the pack of playing cards. If he can tear the little ones away from their games, maybe he will settle down with them and invent games of chance using one or more suits from the pack. Even the younger of the two is getting the hang of how likely it is for an event to occur when she knows all of the facts. She has been known to give up on a task very early on once she has worked out just how much the odds are stacked against her. Her brother, on the other hand will celebrate gloriously if he really does pick the ace of spades, or whatever his most desired card of the day is. As you can imagine, dear reader, there's not very much celebrating. Which is why we don't make a meal of it and keep the activity short. Let's hope for a fine outdoor kind of day tomorrow.

Heads I lose, tails you win

2007-05-25T19:07:00.000+01:00

Tis the Friday of summer half-term week and the predictable happens: an unknown proportion of the population jumps into cars, boats, planes and trains to "get away for a bit" The Pulse is not quite sure what they are getting away from. He will probably hear news from friends who have done just that en-route to France. It's anyone's guess just how far they will have got by midnight. He remembers last year at the same time when they should have been on the second toll south on the French A10 when the call came through. "Thought we'd call to say we're still on the M25 ..." Now there's a surprise.

Opened the paper this morning to find a wonderful picture taken inside Tate Modern in London of a class of students ranged across a space standing absolutely still in various quite natural poses, each one a fascinating study in his/her own right. "How many are there?" Quite an easy question from a little one, but of course The Pulse made more of it. How about finding out how many are standing, how many are smiling, how many are pointing, and so on. Is anyone doing more than one of these things? Within ten minutes one little one had made a comprehensive table of the group (incidentally, there were 34 it seems).

As school finished a little earlier this afternoon The Pulse and the brood took the long route via the farm and were just in time to see the cows crossing the roadway for afternoon milking. As there was another mother's brood with us seven of us stood and waited. "I know," one of The Pulse's very own announced, "let's count the cows." So that's what everyone did. Counting tails, or ear labels, or heads. We all had different answers of course, but it was great fun. The Pulse felt sure he was right with forty-seven. Jaspar the friendly cow hand at the farm brought up the rear, so to speak. "Forty-one," he smiled. Well, they all look the same don't they!

Top up your glass?

2007-05-23T16:37:00.000+01:00

Yes, this morning broke with yet another of those surveys. It seems that - to cut out all of the superfluous detail, not to mention the research behind it – this is all about the length of your fingers. To quote one newspaper: "children whose ring fingers are as long as their index fingers are more likely to do well in maths, while those with shorter ring fingers are more adept at literacy tasks." The Pulse was looking at the back of his hand, as one might when investigating the state of one's finger nails, and was feeling rather smug. Then the thought struck him that his ring finger might be longer, not because it was long but because the index finger might be extra short. In other words, it is possible to see this little test from a different perspective.

One of the little ones drank only some of his Ribena at breakfast. His mum encouraged him to drink it all up: "You've still got half of your drink to go." Back came the reply like a shot from a pistol: "No, I've already drunk half of it." You can't pull the proverbial wool over this one's eyes, or even his drink, come to that. At least he is being positive. And he'd be in an even better position if he had left one-third of his drink in the glass. It's all about making the extra effort - going the extra mile (1.609344 kilometres). So that's not far then.

A Scarborough wave

2007-05-22T14:08:00.000+01:00

Airfields and airports were generally built where they wouldn't annoy people or unnecessarily interfere with their daily lives. As the population has grown houses have been built out towards airports, even surrounding them. People living in the newer homes in the vicinity of the airport are now complaining about traffic congestion, noise and air quality. The Pulse is not saying they should not complain, simply observing that that's what people do. It reminds him of a little local scrummage a few years back down at the harbour, which has been where it is since the year dot - couldn't very well move it. In recent years it has also become a successful marina to help pay for the upkeep. Some impressive new apartment blocks went up; no doubt some of the new owners also owned the yachts in the harbour. Now those residents are complaining that they are being kept awake by the rigging twanging against the aluminium masts. Oh yes? It's a harbour folks. That's what boats do in the wind. Never mind.

Further along on the beach the grownups and the little ones enjoyed a carefree, if windy, Sunday afternoon on the beach. "Are we going to find some maths on the beach?" The Pulse gave the matter as much thought as a Sunday afternoon would allow him, before suggesting that they could discover whether there is any pattern to the arrival of waves at the water's edge. With a watch in hand they counted the number of waves in each minute. "Let's find the mean," was the call from the chilly shallows. Oh, The Pulse felt so proud. "Wow, that was a big one," was heard as one wave spilled noisily. "Count how many small waves between each big one." Yep, if we do that for long enough they'll get a pretty good result. OK, towels at the ready; egg and sand sandwich anyone?

Awkward price made easy?

2007-05-18T15:38:00.000+01:00

Recently The Pulse posted a picture of some strange timber pyramids sitting in the grounds of what he has since been informed was the old dockyard hospital, now appealing residences at probably not-so-appealing prices. Anyhow the little ones have been pouring imaginary sand into imaginary pyramids this week in an attempt to work out how much it would take to fill any sized pyramid. They imagined a cardboard box - a cuboid - because they already knew to multiply the base area by the height if they wanted to find out the volume. Both were convinced that the volume of the pyramid must be less than the volume of a carboard box if the base was the same. So they got an extra biscuit for working that out. One offered the suggestion that it would always be the area times half the height on the basis that the pyramid disappears to nothing at the top. A good try, but as we found out, that still didn't work. The Pulse nearly spilt the cornflakes this morning when one of them screamed into the kitchen and shouted out "It's a third of the height. I've just tested it." Just going upstairs to see what she's tested it with!

Shopping list for tomorrow includes 8 grow bags. On his way back from the farm earlier The Pulse noticed the price at the farm shop. Now there's a little puzzle for the back seat passengers in the morning before the cricket nets. Find an easy way of calculating the price for any number of bags. There might be five minutes of peace if we're lucky.

Number please

2007-05-16T15:41:00.000+01:00

The Pulse has, on more than one occasion, sung the praises of the local Post Office, which has always come up trumps when something postal needs sorting out. Despite the queues and the seemingly endless paperwork and rubber stamping associated with even the simplest purchase (it has got a lot better in recent years), The Pulse would find it difficult to do without this treasured organisation. He discovered today that he could purchase gift vouchers - One4All vouchers. This was just as well as a family birthday is tomorrow. The additional purchase of a first class stamp and a postbox outside completed this little exercise. Thanks for your help P.O.

Everyone has been there: copying down a phone number someone has thoughtfully looked out for you, or that you can put in your pocket in order that, when more convenient, you can ring the optician for an appointment. In the end there are dozens of these numbers on various pieces of paper lying around the house. What to do with them, apart from throw them away? Well, we have several ideas, and the little ones thought of most of them. First, there's sorting them into order. Then of course you can add the digits until you only have a one-digit number. How about subtracting the first two digits from the last two - or the other way around. Or adding them. Use the first and last three digits if you are able. Find numbers which contain only even or only odd numbers. Discovering a phone number containing a two-digit prime number scores highly and earns the little ones an extra cake fresh from the baking tray. Of course, The Pulse has to be fair to them both so an alternative is on offer: find a number where all of the digits add to exactly 20 or another tens total. The Pulse gets to decide whether to include or exclude the area code. Innocent fun for all.

2007-05-15T15:52:00.000+01:00

Although maybe not in the spring rains which we are experiencing at present, but certainly when the weather brightens, the Malvern Hills would beckon. The Pulse was reminded of this last Friday while watching the television programme from the Malvern Show. He has often given the thumbs up to any place where in the landscape he could climb to a high point and survey his surroundings. How much further you can see than at river level, as long as low cloud does not obscure your domain. Maybe this is why ancient people would settle on hill tops - they had the ability to see further; not just to go "ahh," but to receive early warning of unwelcome visitors. With a map in front of them the family has tried to estimate how far to the visible horizon. And you know what? The Pulse, who was the only one who agreed to play the game sensibly, always under-estimated. Will he never learn?

Isn't a queue a wonderful device? Umpteen people standing in a rough line, occasionally shuffling forward, trying to be sociable and idly discussing whatever the queue was for with the people behind and in front. Everyone remains positive, so long as you can see the front, but if this is not possible you have no idea of its length and your mind, which is working overtime trying to estimate how long you will waste just standing there, hasn't got enough information to process. Well-organised events arrange for signs: "30 minutes from this point" Oh yes, how do they know? And how can they prove it? If you can disprove it, are you going to waste further time, once at the head of the queue, going back and complaining? There is some wonderful maths in queues, and what's more you have plenty of time to estimate, calculate, tabulate, and play the same kind of games you do in the car - except more slowly! "One hour from this point" Oh no, are we in the right queue?

You need a formula?

2007-05-10T16:27:00.000+01:00

Today is the fiftieth blog posted by The Pulse on Radar Day by Day. Not a major milestone we grant you, but a significant step along maths journey into the future. Milestone. Sounds a lot easier to say than kilometrestone and is probably a clue to this country's rich history in weights and measures. For a small trawl though its imperial measures visit Heritage on radarmaths.com. Anyway, there is another little anniversary today, for it is two months ago today when the chickens first arrived. So the little ones have been making the best of their time since arriving back from school; preparing a special feed mix and mixing a special mud cake filled with seed. Can't say The Pulse is looking forward to it, but then, as everyone chanted, "it's not for you." Just a thank you for nearly 300 eggs. Now that is something to be pleased about. Cluck cluck!

On The Pulse's recent visit to the southern port of Portsmouth, about which he triumphantly wrote a while back, he spied rows of timber pyramid-shaped obelisks sitting in front of a rather imposing building close to the BBC's Portsmouth studio at Gunwharf Quays shopping centre. They have louvres in the sides and may be something to do with ventilation. But it just shows that wherever you go you meet mathematics. Now you might like to ponder over a little puzzle. If they are hollow, what volume of sand could be placed inside? We would need to measure the size of these objects of course, but could you discover the answer without actually filling one with sand? Of course, the kings of ancient Egypt would have had a pretty good idea, but it's a bit too late to ask. Never mind.

Liberation Day

2007-05-09T15:59:00.000+01:00

The Pulse hopes readers will join him in wishing the good people of the Channel Islands a joyous celebration today, this, their 63rd such occasion since the islands were liberated at the end of World War Two. The Pulse has, himself, previously joined the islanders of Jersey, whose flag we show above. It is difficult for the rest of the British Isles to appreciate what deprivation and isolation the war years brought to the only parts of the Isles to be occupied. Today might not be a place for the beaches, but whatever the weather, it won't stop the islanders having a good time. Enjoy!

An interesting puzzle crossed The Pulse's path this week as he tried to make sure the foundation slab for the new shed was exactly square. He didn't really want the shed, when it arrived, not to sit properly on the concrete already laid. So, with pencil and paper he tried a little experiment on the kitchen table (not with the kitchen table; so far as he could tell, that is already square). He drew a series of squares, starting with sides of 10 cm, then 9cm then 8cm, and so on until he reached 1cm. The first attempts did not all look like squares, so he chose a sheet of paper and used a corner to make the first right angle. The second attempts all looked right. They would only be squares, though, if both the diagonals were exactly the same length. OK, so far? Having written the measurements underneath each square, The Pulse discovered a very interesting result. You will probably come to the same conclusion. Go on, try it.

Press and wait

2007-05-08T09:24:00.000+01:00

The Pulse has been watching the fox (with a surprisingly light coloured coat) with some interest - and rather a lot of concern. It appears to know the chickens are there, but for the moment at least it is more interested in the compost heap. Last night it stared The Pulse out; it in the middle of the lawn and he from behind the kitchen window. Spine-tingling moment! The Pulse recalls a similar moment in the New Forest years back, when at dusk two piercing eyes close by belonged to a large deer. Nearby, in the undergrowth a tiny fawn was curled up, staring fearfully towards the opening. Spine-tingling moments indeed. Everyone should have them.

In Wolverhampton recently The Pulse played the game of wait for the lift. You know the one; press the button, wait, wait, hum a little ditty, press the button twice more, look at the screen and watch the numbers disappearing further up the building. The game is over when you decide that it would be quicker to take the stairs. Just as you reach halfway up the first flight the lift doors can be heard opening on the floor you just left! The game is similar with the light-controlled crossing; only here you only get the all-clear when there is no traffic to stop anyway. Play it, too, at the bus stop or the railway station. The question is, how much longer is ten minutes when you want something to happen NOW, than ten minutes when you can be doing something else meanwhile? Doesn't make sense? Of course ten minutes is ten minutes. But could you walk to the next bus stop while you are waiting? Could you walk to the next floor while waiting for the lift? Would you actually save any time? The Pulse feels a little experiment is needed. If he needs any more bright ideas he knows where to go: Wolverhampton.

Could you tell the difference?

2007-05-03T16:36:00.000+01:00

There is in Portsmouth a landmark tower called Spinnaker Tower - because its design is based on a sailing ship sail. It is 170 metres tall and viewing floors and outside lifts are part of the experience. Not being very good with extreme heights The Pulse was anxious. Of the views, more another time. There is something, though, about glass floors which make people swoon. In The Pulse's case, quite justifiably. Once down on terra firma the questions everyone asks are "Did you cross the glass floor and did you look down?" Well, The Pulse was determined to be bold, and to prove it he took a picture (with his feet in the shot) looking straight down. Awesome.

Jersey is just waking up to the prospect of a tax added to the things they buy. However, unlike the UK at 17.5%, theirs will be a modest 3%. Envy! Now, many islanders are a little suspicious and think there is more than a tiny chance they will be charged a higher price than the required amount. You can bet that none of your average prices will, when 3% is added, be exact. Will the shopkeepers know the rule about rounding, or will all prices be rounded upwards to the next penny? Then, of course, there is the puzzle of whether you should add 3% to each item you buy, or add 3% to the bill total. Would it make any difference; would it cost more by taxing each item? Well, The Pulse has carried out a little experiment with a few goods he recently bought. You would never believe the result. Or perhaps you would. Go on, try it.

It's all a question of size

2007-05-01T15:48:00.000+01:00

Hands up those who live where there are trams. If you do you will know how useful they are at getting people to travel without their car. As The Pulse found out though, they are very expensive to build, and you need a lot of people travelling on them to make them pay. That means large cities. So the good people of Nottingham, Sheffield, Manchester, Birmingham and Croydon are very fortunate. It would be nice if there was one at Little Easingstoke, but at two buses a day and nothing after dark, he doesn't hold out much hope. They promise a 50% improvement shortly. Everyone swooned with delight, until it was pointed out that only meant three buses instead of two.

The Pulse is always looking out for the funny side of life, or maybe something which has been said but not meant. An example of the latter was printed in the paper on the subject of rubbish collections (oh no, not again). "Bin bags would be weighed and residents would have to pay for the volume of rubbish they put out, with some estimates suggesting an average family would have to pay £120 a year. Items for recycling would be taken free." After smarting from the possible surcharge on an already top-heavy council tax - what we used to call rates in the old days - The Pulse thought he would let his readers work out what had drawn his attention to the item. If you get stuck you could always refer to the radarmaths glossary.

What do you think of it so far?

2007-04-27T17:16:00.000+01:00

You can't open a newspaper at the moment without hearing people go on about waste packaging, whether it's green to use a supermarket bag, and fortnightly bin collections. The Pulse is convinced that the supermarket which asks people to dump any unnecessary packaging in some big bins before they leave the store is missing the point. Surely, once the packaging has been produced, it doesn't matter whether it is disposed of at the store or at home; it still has to be disposed of. How about not making the packaging in the first place? Surely a no-brainer, but maybe that depends on whose brain!

Did anyone see that advance publicity for a television programme to be aired shortly about statistics? Someone has collected an amazing array of numbers. The Pulse, of course, is anxious everyone should use them to create and solve pretty inventive problem-solving questions. It seems that each person collects and disposes of 8.49 tonnes of food packaging in their lifetime. And 3,796 nappies - presumably they are all used at the start! Maybe you will like the 533 books you might read. Or the 7,163 baths which you will have. On average we will live 78.5 years (or 2,475,576,000 seconds). The Pulse wonders why anyone would want to collect this information, but once created we might as well make use of it. Just like some of the rubbish, which often gets a second or third life. Now, does rubbish come free or not? Over to you.

Fly the case

2007-04-24T16:47:00.000+01:00

The Pulse is mightily pleased that plans are afoot to make signposting around London a tad clearer for walkers and cyclists than it is at present in some areas. There are great canal and river sides, woodlands, parks, footpaths and quiet roads, but it can be difficult locating them or deciding whether it is public or private. There are examples of rather confusing or contradictory signs too. The Pulse is not sure whether it is the map or his brain which addled when two adjacent signs indicate "No right of way" and "Public footpath to shops." Well?

Ryanair is among the airlines which now charges for baggage that is heavier than a set amount; in Ryanair's case, 15 kg. The Pulse wonders just what you would get for your 15 kg if you were going on holiday for 3 weeks to distant horizons. Once over that limit it seems we are charged £3.30 for every kilogram over. Not sure whether that's graded in whole kilograms or stepped in half kilos or quarter kilos (presumably £1.65 and 83p, the latter to the nearest penny of course). On the assumption that the family had individual cases and the surcharge was to the nearest half kilo, we spent a spare twenty minutes calculating the surcharge for these cases: 17.5 kg, 24 kg, 19.5 kg, 27.2 kg and a weighty 33 kg. So that adds to the cost of the holiday. Does anyone know, incidentally, what the average case weight is for a single adult at the airport? Just wondering.

One giant leap

2007-04-23T15:52:00.000+01:00

Just as the four-yearly Commonwealth Games is sub-named The Friendly Games, The Pulse thinks the London Marathon is probably The Friendly Run. Mingling with the photographing, picnicking, cheering and clapping crowds in the Canary Wharf area he observed how happy everyone was. Observing one particular incident a confident runner (number unknown) noted another nearby falter and stop in some distress. Continuing to run for a few seconds, he then stopped, walked back and offered a re-assuring arm of support to the breathless athlete. After a few words they walked forwards, arm in arm, before breaking into a slow trot. Twelve miles further on they may well have crossed the line together - two new friends.

Times and distances are what yesterday's event was all about. The Pulse knows how long it takes to the farm, the shops, the school, the allotment, and could make an estimate of the distances if he has a mind. He also knows how fast he has to run to catch the chickens when they are in an unco-operative mood. The little ones have also devised their own form of marathon. They are timing themselves round the trees in the park, then round the trees and the lake, and finally to each tree in turn back to a home base. The Pulse has been asked to create a chart on which to record the results. Optimistically he has drawn it up for 3 months. Next they'll be asking for three Shredded Wheat and a medal. The trouble is, The Pulse has promised to join in. Rash promise, or what? Still, it's easier than 26 miles 385 yards, but the crowds are non-existant in the park.

A tidy railway

2007-04-20T16:41:00.000+01:00

There seems to be an increasing amount of news about the Scout movement, as the centenary celebrations get under way and Brownsea Island becomes as well known as the Isle of Wight. The Pulse recalls his scouting days with pride. All he can say is, for those who like a variety of activity, both indoors and out, being with lots of friends and learning some pretty useful skills, go for Scouting every time. Girls and boys of all ages and in all parts of the country, this is probably the nearest readers will get to an advertisment on this website so make the most of it. www.scouts.org.uk for more information.

Now for Wales, where The Pulse flew the train to this week for one of those conferences where everyone is provided with a plastic bag bulging with leaflets, brochures and newspapers - presumably to read during the boring bits. Oh, and a free pen, usual make. While waiting on the platform for the return journey he noticed a poster published by Network Rail, the busy little firm which is mending the rails and putting new bulbs in the signals to give us a better railway network. Under a picture of a length of track was the message: "We run over 2,000 miles of track, 20,000 points, 30,000 signals and 10,000 miles of electrified lines." Wow, some train set. Good job they don't have to put it away every night. Did you notice something about those numbers? Yes, that's right; nice and neat. Tidy people at Network Rail. Of course, it may have something to do with approximations and rounded numbers, so that we remember them more easily. It's the only way The Pulse managed to remember until he got back to his computer. Home about ten then (a rounded time, naturally).

Room service

2007-04-17T12:14:00.000+01:00

The wonderfully, and unseasonal, warm weather we have experienced recently seems to have brought much news to the fore, from plants months ahead of themselves, birds in advanced stages of nestbuilding, and holiday plans favouring the home market rather than abroad (or at least Spain) for temperatures. Bees appear to have been sent into a tizz (or should that be a buzz?) because their SAT-NAVs have been affected by an air-ful of mobile phone messages. In The Pulse's patch the robinia trees have been leafing up as he has watched them - one moment they were bare, and after a conversation or three with friends little leaves had appeared on all branches. A quick-change week indeed.

The Pulse and the big family enjoyed an away weekend at a great hotel deep in the Sussex countryside. It was one of those experiences when everyone agreed it should be arranged more often - especially important for a family which finds it difficult, as most families discover, to meet frequently. Three adult members decided to share a family room in order to reduce the cost. The Pulse overheard the conversation just before departure: "That's £82 then." "EACH?" "No, for the room." "So that's ..." A little bit of silence followed. Now, why it should be, The Pulse could not say but there are a number of calculations which he has, over the years, learned by heart. An early one was 20 times 20. He was ten when he learned that one. A little later he learned 3 times 27. Everyone should know 3 times 27. Why? So that when you have to divide a room price of £82 into 3 people you almost have the answer. As his parents used to say: "You never know when it will come in handy". Like now?

Great National Park

2007-04-13T16:12:00.000+01:00

Straight after the great Easter egg hunt (two eggs still unfound) The Pulse and the family made their way in sociable fashion by the wonderful GNER railway to York. With some family members meeting each other for the first time - especially the little ones - there was an inevitable distraction while gossip was exchanged. Three wonderful days in peaceful surroundings in the middle of the national park, with crazy views from almost aeroplane height, rich green and yellow fields, tarns and streams bewitchingly sparkling. All The Pulse can say is, you lucky people.

Andy Murray is the young tennis player with a new haircut and a refreshingly forthright reaction to most situations. Responding to a question from the press, he retorted that he is 93.42% fit. That's unusually precise, mused The Pulse. Most sports people respond with 90%, 100%, or even 110%. But 93.42% ? What's that all about? And what does it mean anyway? Is Mr Murray using a sliding scale of fitness and the whole of him has reached 93.24 en-route to 100? Or maybe he calculated that 93.42 per-cent of his body is fully fit, and the remaining 6.58 (maybe his toes) has yet to make a start. Who is to know? Figures are funny at times; you just don't know what they mean. Game point.

Train a Grande Vitesse

2007-04-05T15:27:00.000+01:00

A glorious photo came winging across the ether to land on The Pulse's desk to compensate for the picture he forgot to take while in Gateshead. The view changes with the location, and what looked like a semi-circular shape from one viewpoint certainly wasn't from another. It most definitely is a parabola in shape. Think of the shape as being part of a curved shape where the radius is of different lengths, rather like on an oval, and very different from a circle where the radius is the same length wherever it is measured. So that's sorted, then. It's still a great bridge.

Now to the TVG train which broke the rail speed record earlier this week in France. The headline speed was 356 miles per hour, but The Pulse noticed that some news sources headlined it at 572 kilometres per hour, no doubt trying to kid us that the train was even faster if you measured it that way - but he noticed that it wasn't April 1st! Oh there are some bright ones in this family. Up came the question, how do you get from miles to kilometres? After a little exploration they discovered that you multiply the number of miles by 1.61 to get kilometres. To change the other way you multiply the number of kilometres by 0.62. The Pulse will look forward to taking a High Speed journey from St Pancras (London) to Paris and then another High Speed journey from there to Strasbourg. Hold on tight please.