All the Ones

We were driving into Guardamar yesterday and had taken some paper and cardboard with us to put into the appropriate container on the way (you do sort your rubbish, don't you?). There are containers for different types of rubbish just near the exit of El Raso, so I parked the car next to them. As I was switching off the ignition, I noticed the kilometre counter.

A bingo caller would have shouted, "All the ones, onety-onety-onety-one," or words to that effect. However, I understand that there are only 10 types of people in the world: those who understand binary and those who don't.

Well, you might not understand the binary numbering system, but you use it in some way every day, I'll bet. Just about everything is digitised nowadays, from the mobile phone (oh bane of my life), the lowly weather station, the kitchen scales (assuming their not a decent set of analogue ones), the mp3 player, the iPad, iPod, iWhatever, to the now common-or-garden home desktop computer, and even the CERN supercollider.

Yup, they're all based on just two numbers, zero and one.

All computer technology relies on what are basically no more than switches that can have one of two states: on and off, or, one and zero (and sometimes even "yes" and "no"). And with these two digits, any other number can be formed. Okay, you're used to using ten digits to form numbers, 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9. This is the decimal system, but there are other numbering systems out there, the best-known being octal, hexadecimal, and binary.

So, how does binary work? Simple!

First, a quick look at our normal decimal system to understand how we count. We start at 0, meaning nothing, then we go 1,2,3… up to 9, but when we want to go further, we have no free digits, so we say something like, "Right, I now have one lot of ten, so I'll put down a 1, and nothing else, so I'll put down a 0," giving us 10. We then continue up to our next change from 9 to the next number and have to say, "Now I have 2 lots of ten and nothing else,"which gives us 20.

And when we run out of digits for the "tens position" all we have to do is start a new position for the hundreds and so on.

Binary works just like that, but new positions have to be created much more frequently, every time the count reaches 2, in fact. So we go 0, 1… er end of available digits, so 10, 11… er end of available digits, so 100, 101, 110, 111… er end of available digits… and so on.

Now, if we look at a decimal number, say 563, then it can be broken down as follows:

3 = 10 to the power 0 (which is 1) x 3, giving 3
6 = 10 to the power 1 (which is 10) x 6, giving 60
5 = 10 to the power 2 (which is 100) x 5, giving 500

Add them up and you get the full number. In fact, the position of the digit, counting from right to left, indicates the "power" of the "base number" of the system. The base number of the decimal system is ten. This is how all number systems work.

Applying this to the binary system (whose base number is 2), then the decimal equivalent of 101 binary is:

1 = 2 to the power 0 (which is 1) x 1, giving 1
0 = 2 to the power 1 (which is 2) x 0, giving 0
1 = 2 to the power 2 (which is 4) x 1, giving 4

Add them up and you get 5. So binary 101 is the same as decimal 5.

What about binary 111111?

1 = 2 to the power 0 (which is 1) x 1, giving 1

1 = 2 to the power 1 (which is 2) x 1, giving 2

1 = 2 to the power 2 (which is 4) x 1, giving 4

1 = 2 to the power 3 (which is 8) x 1, giving 8

1 = 2 to the power 4 (which is 16) x 1, giving 16

1 = 2 to the power 5 (which is 32) x 1, giving 32

Add them up and you get decimal 63.

(Sadly my car counts in decimal, not binary, so I must accept that it has been driven 111,111 kilometres and not just 63.)

To explain exactly how these ones and zeroes become transformed, not just into decimal numbers, but also into letters, symbols, colours, sound, and everything else digital, would take a whole book, even though it is really quite simple. Believe me, it might look impressive, but its all just ones and zeroes.

Winter and summer

It being Wednesday (SWMBO's hairdresser day, remember), and given the good weather, we were in the Parque Reina Sofía in Guardamar again this morning.

A good number of others were enjoying a morning stroll in the park and several had brought some food for the animals there. A lot of squirrels were running around, climbing up and down the trees and grabbing the pieces of sustenance offered by the humans. The peahens were rather annoying, blocking off the squirrels' routes and pecking at them if they came too close. Still, with some careful positioning, it was quite easy to allow the squirrels to take the peanuts that we had brought for them. They seem to enjoy the peanuts, too, for some squirrels were daring enough to climb onto us in order to get to them.

We noticed several squirrels that are greyer than the majority. These are not the grey squirrels that are common on northern Europe, but red squirrels that, I believe, have not yet shed their winter coats.

Here you can see a "grey" red squirrel and one with the "normal" colouring.

Here's… Cyril!

We had to go into Guardamar today to take something to the post-office.

The weather was so pleasant that we decided to have a look in the Parque Reina Sofía, too. Before going there we popped into Mercadona to buy a bag of peanuts, in case we should come across any squirrels in the park.

It was about two o'clock, so most of the wildlife, being of a Spanish nature, was settling down to a well-deserved siesta. A few squirrles were to be seen, but there were considerably less that on the Wednesday mornings, when we usually visit the park and they seemed less curious and enthusiastic about coming to take the peanuts we were offering. Nevertheless, one little fellow was very eager to come back time and time again, so here are some photos of him: please meet Cyril.

Cyril, like all of the other squirrels we see in Guardamar, is a Eurasian red squirrel (Sciurus vulgaris). This is the comon squirrel that is prevalent throughout Eurasia, though in the British Isles they are less commonly seen, having been largely ousted by the imported grey squirrel from North America.

The first few peanuts that he took were carried into one or other tree to be eaten there, sitting on a comfortable branch. Then old Cyril would clamber back down the trunk, and hop across the ground to take his next peanut from the hand. After a few peanuts, he had clearly eaten his fill, so he then started to bury them at different locations: sometimes he would bury the whole nut, shell and all, and on other occasions he would take the two nuts out of their shell and bury each separately.

Enjoy the photos.

Duck!

 It's Wednesday.

Wednesday is Hairdresser Day.

Not for me, you understand, as I am hirsutely challenged and haven't visited a hairdresser for twenty years or more.

No, for She Who Must Be Obeyed, who insists on visiting the hairdresser every week on Wednesday morning.

The hairdresser is in Guardamar, so the visit is not for nought and allows us to have a look at the Wednesday street market, where I occasionally come across an interesting cactus, to pop into Hotel Quino for a morning coffee and chat, and to have a walk around. The latter often involves going through the parks: while SWMBO is in the hairdresser, I walk through the Alfonso XIII park and afterwards we walk through the more formal Reina Sofía park. The latter park has numerous half-tame creatures, other than the children that frequent the play-areas out of school-term time: squirrels, peacocks, swans, and a good selection of ducks.

The first photo in this entry was taken last week and I liked it so much that I thought I'd take a few more duck shots today. The weather was fine. The peacocks tails have almost fully developed, so they will soon be displaying to their hens; the squirrels were as frisky as usual; the ducks were in fine fettle.

We were surprised to see one duck with ten little ducklings, perhaps the first of the season. They were very lively, inquisitive and chirping away.

I can't help you with the identity of the ducks, I'm afraid, but I hope you enjoy these duck portraits.

After our walk throught the park, and before our walk along the front in Guardamar, we went to have a midday meal at one of the Chinese restaurants in the town. She Who Must Be Obeyed is particularly partial to the crispy roast duck with ginger, but she passed on that dish today in favour of beef and vegetables…

 

Roscón de Reyes

Since before Christmas variously sized, though usually quite large, circular pastries have gradually appeared for sale in patisseries and the corresponding sections of supermarkets. These are the so-called roscón de Reyes, which is a traditional cake, baked for consumption on the afternoon of 6 January, the Day of the Three Kings.

Dough is formed into a circle and decorated with pieces of crystallised fruits of various colours, and is also often sliced and filled with cream or confectioner's custard. In addition, a bean and a porcelain figure are hidden in the cake.

As with almost all traditions related to Christmas, the origin of the roscón dates back to earlier pagan traditions and probably to the Saturnalia, the ancient Roman festival in honour of the deity Saturn. At that time, circular cakes made with figs, dates and honey were distributed equally between both plebeians and slaves. Reports indicate that as early as the third century a bean was hidden in the cake and that the person who received the piece containing the bean was named the King of Kings for a predetermined period of time.

It is only since the twentieth century that the cake has been prepared with a filling of cream, or confectioner's custard, or even cabello de ángel (a very sweet pumpkin preserve). A porcelain figurine, usually representing some biblical character, is hidden in the cake, and the tradition of hiding a bean in the cake also remains, though its finder is less fortunate than in earlier times: now they have to pay for the cake, whereas the finder of the figurine is allowed to wear the crown (usually a paper crown is sold with the cake).

The roscón shown in the photo was bought (and eaten) by us several years ago in an artisenal bakery in Jávea. It was filled with cabello de ángel and was quite delicious.

And a feliz año to you, too.

Spanish Carols

There is not really a tradition in Spain for the type of Christmas carols that we know in more northerly parts of Europe. Some of those carols are known here and have their own Spanish versions, such as Venid Fieles (Adeste Fiedeles), Al Mundo Paz (Joy To The World) and Noche de Paz (Silent Night), but the real Christmas singing tradition here is based on a large group of songs called Villancicos.

The villancico was a popular form of poetry and singing in Spain, Portugal, and their colonies, for several centuries, starting in the second half of the 15th and continuing into the 18th. The style declined in popularity in more recent times and the term "villancico" gradually came to represent little more than a Christmas carol. (Well, perhaps carol isn't really a good translation, for songs such as White Christmas, Jingle Bells and Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer are also referred to as villancicos. The more-encompassing term Christmas song might therefore be more appropriate.)

Despite, this degeneration, the medieval musical influence can still be gleaned in the villancicos that remain popular around the Christmas period. This is aided by the often medieval flavour of the music and its instrumentation, which still often consists of little more than a simple drum, a zambomba (a friction drum, or, in Dutch, a rommelpot), and some tambourines (panderetas in Spanish). In the Comunidad Valenciana, a dulzaina might also be used and in Andalucía, the villancico has become particularly popular performed in flamenco style, accompanied by guitars, castanets, hand-clpping and the cajón.

Villancicos are most often sung by groups of children (who, strangely enough, seem to have little musical ability) and this adds to the naivety of the whole. A glorious exception to this rule is provided by the flamenco performers of villancicos, who transform the simple songs into superbly exciting numbers: look out for a group called Raya Real in this respect.

So why not scrap the traditional carols this year and instead go for a more Spanish form of Christmas entertainment? You can find plenty of sites online where you can listen to villancicos, performed both well and badly, and lots of CDs are available in the shops, too, though these are of equally diverse quality.

Navidad Digital is a good place to start. Not only does the site offer many, many villancicos, it also allows you to hear carols in French, German, Italian, Latin and English. (In addition, you will find information about Belenes, recipes for traditional end-of-year fare, and hundreds of photos.)

And here is a short list of some of the more popular and traditional villancicos:

• La Marimorena
• Campana Sobre Campana
• El Burrito Dabanero
• Ya Viene La Vieja
• Los Peces En El Rio
• Arre Borriquito (Arre Burro Arre)
• Alegría Alegría
• Fum Fum Fum
• Rin, Rin
• El Chiquirritín

¡Felices fiestas!

Chopsticks

Some thirty-odd years ago I was "into" Bonsai. I had lots of little trees and enjoyed the hobby for several years. During that time, I learned a great deal about plants in general, not just Bonsai, and also discovered the greatest gardening tool ever known to man.

Chopsticks.

You know, the things with which you eat Chinese food (delicious!). Marilyn Monroe played Chopsticks in her glorious film, The Seven Year Itch, together with Tom Ewell, but that was on the piano and a different story entirely.

The art of Bonsai originated in China, so it is perhaps not surprising that the chopstick has remained linked to Bonsai care. (For a brief history of chopsticks, as well as other information about them, look here and here). From Bonsai I learned that a wooden chopstick could function as an excellent water gauge, dipping it into the soil, removing it after a while, and checking the dampness of the wood. As well as using chopsticks or parts of chopsticks for shaping, separating, and styling Bonsai, they have one use which is particularly suitable to other forms of cultivation: root separation.

When repotting a plant, it is often advisable to clear out the old soil from between the roots and to ensure that the roots are evenly spread in the plant's new pot. This can be best achieved with a chopstick!

Chopsticks come in various sizes and have differently shaped points (the Japanese chopsticks tend to be shorter, more often round along their whole length, and more pointed than their Chinese cousins), so keep a few different ones handy in order to be able to select the most appropriate one for the task. Larger plants with large root masses might benefit from some running water when the roots are being teased loose, but this should not be necessary for plants from normal and small-sized pots. Simply use the chopstick to gently tease the roots loose and to remove the soil which is caught between them: because of the slightly flexible and natural aspect of the wood, the chopstick will fulfil this task admirably and will cause far less damage to your plant than a metal item, such as a fork. Later you can use the chopstick to spread the roots evenly over the new soil before covering them and fixing the plant.

I also use chopsticks to push soil up against cacti stems, to ensure that the soil is well tamped down, though not excessively, at the sides of the pot, to nudge a cactus into its correct position in its new medium, to act as a fixed support for a while until a less than stable cactus has settled down, and countless other ways. Why, only just the other day I used a chopstick to unclog a leaf-sucker (garden vacuum).

I'd still like to have played Chopsticks with Marilyn, though…