Progress! Post-Rewiring, my Desk is cleared for Research again ..

I’ve proof-read an article for The Magic Lantern; navigated Cambridge University Press’s article dashboard for my impending RMA Research Chronicle article; signed an ‘Ironclad’ contract; updated my Pure (institutional repository) account; signed up to a short online course in connection with next year’s research project; and attended a meeting.

It feels as though it’s been a busy morning. One could argue that it has been more administrative than actual research work, but research doesn’t get done without a secure administrative foundation, so that’s good enough for me.

Post-Rewiring?

I’d best describe my mental state as ‘fragile, but functional’! But I’m getting there.

Back to Normal on Monday? Well, Maybe …

Very tall pile of empty cardboard boxes

Monday mornings are contracted research time. And research there will be. I have a couple of things to proofread, for a start, quite apart from picking up the threads after last week’s chaos.

The Thrills

Reader, if you like the thrill of the unexpected, and a break from normal routine – go for the total rewiring of an Edwardian house. The chasing round the landscape for TrashNothing and Facebook Marketplace free cardboard boxes. The filling and stacking of them. The hotel stay, the restaurant bills, and the, ‘Could you possibly come back a day later? Making sure your ceiling doesn’t come down is going to add a bit of time to the job’ kind of thrill.

There were three high points: we went to the cinema. Unheard of! I swam lengths for a solid hour in the hotel pool. And discovered that Terikyaki salmon fillets are my absolute favourite food. Other than that, it was a question of just getting through the experience of being away from home, and without my own car. In a room with one desk and one chair, but two occupants, I never felt less like trying to do any research, so it’s a good thing I wasn’t expected to.

Chaos

And then we returned home. The Edwardian house is now rewired (ceilings intact); spotted with plaster patches in walls and ceilings – meaning I’m currently getting redecorating quotes – and it was so dusty that we were grateful to have arranged a full, in-depth clean. And of course, everything needs unboxing. But not everything all at once, right now, if decorators are to start doing things to walls and ceilings! My books are back on shelves, though I don’t know for how long – still, they give the impression that everything is settling down again.

Unsettled

But worst of all, it seems that some of us are very, very unsettled at such major upheaval. And it feels as though I’m on the receiving end. I never want to hear about our discarded lampshades again! But I will. Repeatedly. (Frankly, I don’t CARE if our old dusty lampshades were discarded without our agreement. Now we have new ones.)

And … Breathe!

It will be with a great deal of relief that I open my work laptop tomorrow morning, take a deep breath, and try to think only about research for 3.5 solid hours!

Rewiring (Domestic, not Neurological!)

A smell.  (My nose is as finely-tuned as my ears are not.) 

A melting fuse.

One thing led to another, and we’re getting the whole old house rewired this week.ย  I’ve rearranged my part-time morning and taken my part-time day off. And I’m not going through to Edinburgh.ย  With everything packed up in boxes during the upheaval, and ourselves displaced, I simply can’t get on.ย  I hesitate even to tackle emails, in case I forget where I got to in the different aspects of my work. I can’t simultaneously get my head around the intricacies of research, which explains why I’m not blogging as much as usual.

It appears that the ‘semi’ part of my retirement is to be dedicated to caring for the old house.  (Elderly houses have their own unique requirements and challenges,  different to older humans. At least Himself doesn’t have dodgy ceilings and won’t need redecoration.) 

In semi-retirement, it falls to me both to coordinate things – and sometimes repeat things.  (I’m the only one with hearing aids. Although this is disputed, I find they work fine, as evidenced by the fact that I get to repeat what the electrician said!) And, particularly but not entirely, because a rewire is stressful for all concerned, I find myself on the receiving end of quite a few adverse comments. (I’m apparently frequently very annoying.)

I’ll be glad when this week is over.  My kind and unfailingly courteous historical publishers await me!

Thoughts about Experiencing Plagiarism

Beautiful red apple hanging from tree, ready to be picked

‘Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery’?

I wrote these words as a reflection, but then I wondered if other people might find them helpful. Maybe something like this – or worse (because I realise my experience was slight compared to someone whose whole article, story or book has been plagiarised) has happened to you? There might be folk who would shudder at the thought of laying bare their emotions, their gut reaction, to such a situation. As for me? My ‘words’ are my strength. If my words in the present posting make me look weak as an individual, be assured that I am fully aware of this. They also make me uniquely ‘me’, and who ever gets far by pretending to be other than themselves?

Meanwhile, my situation has been resolved, thankfully. I feel grateful. Grateful for the help. Grateful for the response and correction of the situation.

However, I feel utterly drained.  I’m taking a day’s annual leave because it’s preferable to taking a day’s sick-leave for stress.

I initially headed this posting, ‘Thoughts on detecting plagiarism’. However, ‘on detecting plagiarism’ turns out already to be in the title of someone else’s blog post – Addressing the Inherent Biases in Automated Systems: On Detecting ‘Plagiarism’ (Lancaster University, Ref 2014 Impact Case Studies). I changed my heading. Do read the Lancaster post, if you’re interested. I commend it, even though it’s actually about detecting plagiarism in student submissions, rather than realising your words have been quoted without attribution. I read their blog post briefly last night, and I am not reading it again today. I took no notes, and I have no intention of borrowing anything that was there.


They were literally just a few words, but my own words, and the crux of a 21-page article written 12 years ago. The first full article on the topic. It hurt. And then I started questioning myself:- was I considered so unimportant that my authorship is insignificant? Because, PhD or not, I was ‘merely’ a librarian, hence unimportant? Because I’m now ‘just’ a postdoc research fellow? (That was actually a promotion, by the way!) Because I’m not very famous? Was it because I’m a woman? Because I’m older, and thus considered past it? Because, once published, the words were considered free for the taking? Because, significant or not, they were just a few words, and so temptingly apposite? Low-hanging fruit.

Mulling it over as I got ready for the day, I glanced in the mirror. There I was, an older woman – not ageing particularly stunningly or gracefully, short in stature and wide in figure. My garb was workaday (I was about to sit down to a solitary morning of research, 67 or not). I wore no makeup, and I haven’t been on the latest diet long enough – you wouldn’t notice me if I walked down the street. So there I was. I’m not publicly visible as a performer or composer, unlike a large number of my colleagues. And, as I mentioned, although as a librarian I achieved some visibility in the sectors I worked in – perhaps more visibility than many – librarians aren’t generally known for this quality. We exist to help other people. I’ve not been a librarian for a year now, but I think I probably still carry the aura of invisibility. And when you say ‘librarian’, not many people immediately think, ‘Ah! A researcher. An author. A public speaker.’ Well, there it is!

Image by Bruno from Pixabay

But although librarians might exist to help, to share, to facilitate, they aren’t ghostwriters. Even when they’ve retired from librarianship and are now employed solely as a postdoctoral research fellow.

‘It Says More about Them than it does about You’

And then I reminded myself (I think this is called cognitive reframing) that I didn’t actually know what they were thinking when they used my unattributed words. I can’t read other people’s minds. My identity may not have even been a consideration. And I recalled my latest mantra: that other people’s words and actions speak more about them than about me.

Trigger warning here. I am not preaching when I say that I’m a practising Christian; I’m declaring a fact, which probably does affect my philosophy. (I’m no Evangelical, though – I’m boringly conventional!) I found an intriguing article, ‘3 Reasons Pastors and โ€˜Authorsโ€™ Should Never Plagiarize‘ by David Kakish (12 July 2019). He does make the salient, human point that ‘Plagiarism Fails to Give Honor Where Honor is Due’. Be assured that I’ll be reading it, out of curiosity, but it doesn’t really help the person who has been plagiarised, so I’ll leave it until later! I did do a little web-searching to see if there was a Christian take on low self-esteem. However, I found nothing that resonated, except the grounding reminder that everyone is a unique person for a purpose, so we should embrace what we are rather than wish we were someone else.

I tried not to beat myself up about my own insecurities. I know what I’ve achieved, from a mid-career standing start, against the odds. My words are old enough to be irrefutably mine, regardless. And … well, I can always write some more!


Here are some useful links which I found last night

If your experience is on the more serious end of the scale, these might be helpful. I’m not proposing to offer guidance on dealing with such situations – I’m really not qualified to – but I would urge you to seek support.

Bailey, writing about author O’Hanlon’s dreadful experience, headed his post, ‘The Emotional Toll of Plagiarism’, and my own limited experience endorses that. In my case, a migraine and shall we say, gut reactions, were clearly telling me I was stressed.  Symptoms can be treated, but how much nicer not to have had them at all!

Image by NoName_13 from Pixabay

The Man who Turned up Everywhere!

Yesterday was my first day back in the archives. My phone was crawling with messages (an ongoing family situation). Then came a phone-call, which I couldn’t answer without running out to where I could talk. That led to another, and another. And another. Back and forth I went.  I can’t tell you what a day it was!

However, I did get through several folders of Thomas Nelson papers.  I’m in search of the first mention of a particular individual who was very influential in Nelson’s educational music output.  I found him mentioned a couple of times in yesterday’s papers, once quite unexpectedly. I need to see how this sits in my timeline.  Honestly, I didn’t expect to find him urging an organist’s wife to submit a book proposal on … elocution!  It didn’t look like choral speaking (yes, that was a thing, which was quite in vogue a little later on). Indeed, a Nelson editor specifically advised his boss that it was about elocution, so I don’t need to wonder.

Nelson’s rejected the lady’s proposal. She found another publisher.ย  I briefly wondered how the Englishman who basically ended up acting as music advisor to the Nelson editors, came to know a Scottish organist and his wife, quite early on in his professional career? But I think they probably met at a course or conference.

Four Weeks’ [Disrupted] Holiday

This is an interruption into the ongoing intermission!

Victorian woman reclining in armchair

I really needed this holiday. I was tired. An ongoing family crisis meant I couldn’t go away, but we’ve been for coffees and afternoon teas. I sewed and knitted. I’ve weeded books, tidied the garden, and we’ve had the bathroom gutted and totally refitted.  (This is not the epitome of restfulness, especially when the loo’s decommissioned!, but the end result is gorgeous. )

Traumatised

But please, never ever ask me about multi-vehicle car insurance.ย  I do not wish to relive those hours wasted entertaining the thought.ย  It was a terrible idea. Ironically, I don’t even want to share my experience of finding that my data had been shared without consent, or that a non-existent traffic conviction had also been attributed to me. (The ‘incident’ was my being stopped after the midnight Christmas service.ย  Doing 30 mph, stone-cold sober, in a fully compliant vehicle, it was a routine check, that’s all. No breach of the law, no points on licence.)

A couple of email exchanges during my vacation have reminded me how far I’ve moved from librarianship to research in just one year, and I’m looking forward to carrying on in this direction now. Anyway, I’m back to research mode on Monday.  The coming week might be as close to normal routine as I could hope for, in the circumstances.  Here’s hoping!

Another Brief Intermission

White curtains. virtually closed, with plant on the window sill.
Firs and Hollies Waltz

How to Holiday. Part 4 (Chaos)

It is the week of the bathroom renovation. There’s a team doing it, and all I have to do is basically keep out of the way. (Said she, glumly contemplating the inconveniences of having no – erm – plumbing for hours at a time.) It’s going to be fabulous, but the upheaval is quite something else. This morning, we have a singing electrician and two joiners. I am much distracted by the banging and crashing upstairs and down, and a table has appeared in the garden!

An ‘Auld Hoose’

The electrician has just inspected the fusebox, and warned me that there might be some inappropriate language if certain switches and boxes don’t do what he needs them to do. Silence. He stops singing …


This ‘Hame o’ Mine’

I look for ways to divert myself. Yesterday, I did some ironing (that’s always a sign of stress. I ironed before I got married; I ironed when I was in labour; and I iron when someone has rattled me!) I also wrote a report, which felt strangely grounding – and reached out to another professional with whom I have a point of common interest. Maybe not exactly holiday activities, but definitely worthwhile.

Strangely enough, tidying seems quite therapeutic. If much of the house is in chaos inside and out, then imposing order on a tiny corner – David versus Goliath – feels like taking back just a bit of control. Last week I put unwanted books on eBay and visited the charity shop, but I can always find more. I could do some gardening, but everything’s very wet out there after overnight rain, Maybe later!

I could sort paperwork and filing, but creating more mess and covering more surfaces may not be a good idea. I may be reduced to commencing a [small] sewing project, or perhaps starting knitting! Or …

An Album of WELL-LOVED SONGS From the Repertoire of Robert Wilson, ‘THE VOICE OF SCOTLAND’

Scotland Sings - a book of songs as sung by Scottish singer Robert Wilson

My eye falls on the Robert Wilson song-book that has lain on the piano for a couple of weeks. That needs putting away – but not before I reflect that the publication has its own points of interest. I like the fact that this book, published by Ascherberg, Hopwood & Crew, predates when Wilson and his cronies bought James S Kerr’s publishing concern and began publishing jaunty, variety-influenced (‘tartan-tinted’) light song repertoire that not only suited his own voice, but met with affectionate approval with his many, many followers. The English firm’s publication contains an older selection of Scottish songs, which clearly marks an earlier stage in Wilson’s career:- ‘My ain Wee House’ (Hoose, surely?! But it’s an English publisher); ‘Hame o’ mine’; ‘Bonnie wee thing’; ‘The auld House’ (ahem. Hoose, please); ‘O sing to me the auld Scotch sangs’; ‘Yon wee bit heather’; ‘The Scottish Emigrant’s Farewell’, and more. It couldn’t be more different from his later repertoire.


Ah, I’ve just heard a triumphant ‘YES!’ from the bathroom. And no swearing. I’ll take that as a sign that the fusebox and switches did what they were meant to do. (Thank God!)

No ‘Auld Scotch Sangs’, but any ‘Sangs’ will do!

The electrician has started singing again, so all must be well! A quick burst of the burglar alarm – that’ll annoy the neighbours! – then fuses are put back, the alarm is reset and peace descends … for now.

How to Holiday. Part 3

Yellow rubber duck - the bathroom company's calling card!

Halfway through the second week of holiday, I’m getting into my stride.

Home Improvements

Business duck!
  • We sorely, desperately needed a new bathroom. We’ve had a consultation, and it all happens next week. (Crikey! It’s going to be an exciting week.)
  • The garden is now tidier. We also needed two garden walls painted. Done today – not by us, though. (And NOW I can put a few more plants in the border!)

Health, Hair, Hard Work and Handiwork

So bright & white!
  • Doctor, optician, hairdresser appointments made. I haven’t booked the dental checkup yet, but give me time.
  • Five bags of books weeded out of ONE room (the one where I work!), to be distributed to the charity shop, a secondhand bookshop, and a few to give away. I also spent several hours on eBay. The shelves are still full, but tidier, and there’s also no longer a heap in the corner of the lounge. I am gradually tidying odd corners that have been annoying me for ages; have found books that I’d forgotten I even had; and have conceded to myself that I never will read some of the books – that Norwegian darning book is way, way above my capabilities!
  • Last week I made ‘Himself’ a waistcoat. Yesterday I made myself a shirt – it had been cut out, but hadn’t been started in 1-2 years, so it’s nice that it’s now hanging up awaiting buttons and buttonholes. I do have other sewing projects lined up, but I thought I ought to get into the habit of finishing one thing before starting another. It’s an astonishingly quick pattern, which probably explains why I have a number of shirts in the same design!
Quick make!

Hardly Holiday?

You might ask where the rest and relaxation has gone. I can’t really answer that. However, I can assure you that I haven’t done any research this week!

  • But I have bought us tickets for a Tchaikovsky concert tomorrow evening. That counts as an outing purely for pleasure, and best of all, it’s not far from home.

There’s much to be said for getting on top of tasks that were long overdue. When I go to town tomorrow afternoon, I’ll hopefully be able to drop off the ‘gift’ books before I go to the hairdresser, and if I’m lucky, reward myself with a coffee afterwards. (If not – well, it’ll be a treat for Friday.)

How to Holiday. Part 2

Cream meringue (cake), topped with strawberries

I haven’t had a foreign holiday in years, but I haven’t really been very good at taking a decent break at home,ย  either.ย  As long as I was sharing myself between librarianship and research, my annual leave tended just to support my research habit.  But this year, I’ve done substantially more research.

I decided that this year, I would have to do better when it came to taking a deliberate break.

I’ve continued to pursue domestic projects, stayed abreast of family preoccupations, done some more weeding (so much weeding!), and read a great book, Being Mortal, by Atul Gawande.  This was lent to me a couple of weeks ago,  and it proved well worth devoting the time to.   But by Thursday, I was itching to go on another outing.  A holiday surely has to involve going places, if only locally.

Tea House on the Loch

I fancied tea beside a river.  ALL I typed into Google was, ‘tea’, and it came up with the ideal cafe.  Does it read minds? We didn’t even know there WAS a small loch at Gartcosh, so this was a pleasant surprise.  It turns out there’s also a garden centre, which might be useful to know in future.

I’ve also visited a friend, and when I got home, I found that the book I ordered the other day had arrived.

Well, this was fatal. It’s a song book.  I looked right through it, looked up the two lady composers and their illustrator, played the songs over, then decided I’d better write down what I had discovered.  An enjoyable use of an evening, but this hardly counts as taking a deliberate holiday from research! Indeed, it merely piques my interest as to how the ladies ended up writing their book. Did the friends reach out to the publisher? Or vice versa? Or did someone put them in touch?

The Thomas Nelson ‘child singing’ motif

Meanwhile, my crowded bookshelves have an extra book, and I need to remember that I’m taking a holiday!