Mississippi moon, won't you keep on shining on me?

HAPPY New Year all.

You join me, as I slump on the sofa having just watched Oz and Hugh Raise The Bar, absolutely exhausted. I've been back at work only two and a bit days but, boy, they've been busy. I've had to dive straight in with a large volume of work as I didn't quite get to where I wanted to be before Christmas, and on top of this I'm attempting to get my head around new techniques as my project progresses into what is unknown territory for both myself and my laboratory as a whole. These are exciting new experiences and ones I'm enjoying, but they are in equal measure scary - my foray into this new world of cell work is based on hints and suggestions and an awfully high prevalence of a scientist's least favourite word: if. If it works it will be tremendous and perhaps groundbreaking but, here's the crunch, it may not work. It may be a massive waste of time. I cling to that 'if' like a barnacle to the shores of a new land of hope and, hopefully, glory.

For now though I shall collapse on our comfortable bed and immerse myself in the fictional world of the Earldom of Groan - it's hugely satisfying to be reading a work of fiction for the first time in a very long while, even if it is the austere world of Gormenghast - and prepare myself for another novel day in the world of science. Speaking of which, in my spare time I am currently looking into the history of the science known to us as chemistry, formerly alchemy, in search of an answer to a fundamental question that has intrigued me for some time. How do we know what we know now? What intellect was required to disentangle observations of what we can see to elucidate the underlying fabric that we cannot see, in a world without sterile laboratories - without laboratories at all - and massive computing power? This may take some time, as I need to first find out the answer myself and then find a way to make it interesting to the rest of you, but expect it to appear over on my other blog at some point in the future, nestled between musings on poverty, Central Asia and theses on cute little fuzzy things.

For here I have plans, first some house keeping and hopefully a few stories to tell as well.

Now then Steerpike, what are you up to?