voli

It's been a while since I updated anything. Sorry. I've been pretty busy.

This weekend was a workday for RTF - the Rivanna Trails Foundation. There's a group at UVA that carpools to the worksite on the RTF day, which occurs once a month, and usually we work on a small chunk of the 20-mi trail that encircles Cville. This week I helped in paring back an invasive plant from the trail; we widened that section from about two feet across to closer to six. It looked a lot better when we were done. Other people removed poison ivy from trees and re-mulched the trailheads. The mulching is extremely helpful in creating safe & obvious entrances. It was really nice to get out volunteering again.


One really neat thing about UVA is the people the student organizations bring in. One great example is our occasional FREE advanced screenings of movies. Last week, they screened "Choke", from the writer of "Fight Club", which isn't due out for about a month. I don't recommend it highly, but it was okay. Some parts of it felt flat, the editting or the sound quality. It was as if the film was missing a dimensional quality---in pacing, in audio depth, something lacking that kept it from feeling real. (Also it was somewhat explicit movie, and I don't recommend it if you're not comfortable.)

This week they were showing "Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist", which looked like a fun movie but I was too busy to be able to go. I know, that's really sad, but maybe I'll watch it eventually.

We don't usually have an advanced screening once a week. In the past it has been more like once a semester. Either the Arts Committee is trying to step it up this year, or we just got really lucky, I'm not sure which.

Summer in the City

I guess that travel can include Charlottesville. I am not sure. Either way, it's interesting to note what is different since coming back. Many of these things are particular to Cville, the plethora of summer construction, including the physics side parking lot, tearing up the main road through Grounds, and work as always and yet with little progress behind Cabell. I used to park behind Cabell a lot, it actually had spaces... I wonder where all those people got displaced to. The sculptures in the medians are mostly changed, as are certain restaurants/bakeries/cafes. I can't find anything in the grocery stores, but that is a problem wherever you go.

Even the Cville Kroger has a British food section, of two small cases at the end of the Frozen Pizza aisle. Most of the shelves are empty, but they have McVittie's Digestives. I'll be honest, I was tempted. I'll bet Harris Teeter has more, and Foods Of All Nations more still. The cider situation is worse than I thought, but it's nice to know exactly what's in the food I'm buying. Amazing how different packaging can be. As yet the only food I would like but can't find is haggis. No one understands haggis.

I'm slowly adapting to American currency, American prices, and American attitudes. Sometimes my friends tease me for using British phrases, but "half-seven" for 7:30, "queue", and "can't be bothered" will stick for a long time I hope. I know how to drive on the right-hand side of the road, and I'm getting used to looking left-right-left when crossing the street. Life skills, life skills.

Keswick Adventures

We visited the Lake District for two full days: to be honest, three might have been about perfect, I could have used one more day to explore Keswick. Any longer would require a change in locale, and I've heard Lake Windermere is a good place to go on a two-stop tour of the Lakes.

The first thing we went to in the Lakes was the Cumberland Pencil Museum. Wikipedia is probably more informative on this, but in the 1850's or so, graphite was discovered in Cumbria. One particular pencil compant, Derwent, is still in business today and has had a factory in Keswick since the beginning of the Cumbrian Pencil Industry. Next to the factory is a pencil museum, documenting the development of the pencil industry throughout the world and in particular in Keswick, with special attention to the technology of the pencil and its materials. The colored pencil section was really informative about how the color dyes are mixed to create colored graphite pencils.

I learned a lot about pencils.

Unfortunately the information was a little bit outdated. Signs referred to the 1960's as "25 years ago" (phrases like that are never a good idea for a museum display) and Russia as the USSR. But it was pretty cool too, the wood for the pencil is cedar, and comes from "the Great American states of Oregon and California", hah! Clay was originally mixed in with the graphite to help lower production costs and was soon found to help writing quality as well: it is the clay:graphite ratio that determines the hardness of the pencil.

Cool stuff.

Two long walks were accomplished in our two days as well. The first was up Walla Crags, located just south of Keswick, which had an absolutely perfect view of Derwent Water. The second was up Skiddaw, elevation of about 3000 ft or just under 1000 m, and consequently the smaller peaks of Little Man, and 'bump' of Latrigg. Skiddaw is the fourth-highest peak in the Lake District but 'just short of the tallest', though nothing ever told me what the margin of difference actually is. I'm pretty sure that Scotland was visible to the north, though I can't be positive it was actually Scotland I saw, and we could see a lot of the lakes and ridges in all surrounding areas. Climbing up Skiddaw was great, it helped create a sense of the geography and geology of the area, the farming areas, the lakes, the treeless mountains. I'm still not accustomed to such a profound lack of trees.

If anyone is ever planning a visit to Keswick, I highly recommend dining at Bella Roma, which also has excellent desserts, and coffee/drinks at 26. I highly discourage patronising Salsa, a Mexican place. I know, I know, I shouldn't expect good Mexican food in England, but even bad Mexican food usually tastes of something. This was just bland. Unimpressive.

Lake District

The Lake District, I have been told on many occasions, is the most beautiful part of England. It is located in the NW corner of England, just south of Carlisle and Hadrian's Wall, in the area known as Cumbria.

According to one sign, some millions of years ago, the continents of Europe and the Americas slammed into each other, and many mountains were created at this time, including those in the Lakes. After ages of erosion by glaciers, wind, rain, the mountains became rounded, lakes filled in some of the valleys, and the result is the lush green farming area today.

The Lake District was the famous retreat of many English artists, the more famous of whom are writers like Beatrix Potter, Wordsworth, Coleridge, the creater of Postman Pat (a British cartoon character). Back in the day, it was the summer home for loaded gentry, as one might find in Jane Austen novels.

Here, mountains are called fells.
Small lakes are tarns.
There were a lot of weird names. Keswick, pronounced Kez-sick. Just south is a lake called Derwent Water. Towns like Penrith, Cockermouth, Threlkeld. Lake Windermere, and the town Windermere, is a popular spot for walkers, just as was Keswick.

Keswick managed to cater to weekending tourists with its charm and remain genuine; it was also a Fair Trade and organic food haven. Almost every single house, even those outside the 'town centre', were B&B's. There were a few pubs and taverns, mostly associated with small hotels, and Keswick even boasts a nightclub open seven nights a week, though I didn't go inside. Most of the shops were either cafes, outdoor goods, or cute baubles (antiques & crafts).

The whole area was beautiful! More later; also, pictures coming.

Notes on Home

Since being home I've had to adjust to a few things of course, but most of it came back. Driving, for example. DC drivers still manage to get under my skin but it's okay, hopefully I'll escape before all the bad driving habits come back, and I managed to not get in an accident (yet? knock on wood). I remembered you're allowed to turn right on red. I remembered the plus-five rule on speed limits. Just like riding a bicycle.

The weather is extremely warm right now, but when I first got home the end of March it was a wee bit chilly, but I was a confused girl because I know how to dress for Edinburgh temperatures---which I only know in Celsius. I can convert them to Fahrenheit, sure, but the Celsius drove into my brain to become instinctual. I think the temperatures here were more or less the same, into the 30's and 40's, but I completely forgot how to dress for weather that was cold-ish but not windy. In Scotland the game is to cover as much skin as possible without bundling up too much; especially for the two-mile walk to KB. At home? I couldn't really remember how to dress for a 42F evening stroll with the dogs. But that kind of knowledge comes back too.
Of course now it's hotter than Scotland will see for months, and I'm trying not to get used to that.

turn back time!

I know that Daylight Savings started last night in the US but here Summertime (a name that makes it easier to remember when it 'begins' and when it 'ends'!) doesn't start until March 30 or so. So those of you on the east coast are now only four hours behind GMT.

Today I walked down to the Royal Botanic Gardens, which are on the other side of the city. Actually my derive (in January) took me almost to the entrance of the gardens and I had no idea!

It was really nice to wander about the grounds, even though not a lot was in bloom the daffodils and crocuses and flowering shrubbery were really nice. The greenhouses ('glasshouses') were wonderful to wander through, each house had a different climate. Not just in temperature, but in humidity! I had to take off my jacket in the rainforest room, but then froze in the temperate room. And the Arid Lands section was actually so dry I couldn't believe. Luckily it was not so windy out as to sniffle-ify my nose, so I was able to smell most things... I think my favorite part was probably the orchids.

Did you know that Scotland has carnivorous plants? Yeah! Mostly they're native to bogs.

shopping

I'm really glad the student elections are over, I was getting really sick of getting harassed on my way out of the dining hall by candidates and their friends.

Shopping carts are called trolleys. You probably knew that.
Most places require a pound deposit to release the trolley from the other trolleys, and you get your pound back when you return the trolley. So a lot of people have pound-shaped tokens they keep on keyrings, because who always remembers to bring a pound coin with them to the grocery store?

Major grocery chains: Sainsburys, Tesco, Waitrose, ASDA. ASDA is owned by Walmart which is a little bit creepy to me. The groceries near to me are extremely small and have limited selection, but if you're willing to make the trek a little further there are some really big stores. Mostly I have rediscovered a love for food shopping, but some things always bother me, for example the fact that no one refrigerates eggs in this country, that's just barbaric. There seem to be a lot of differences in how products are organised, and the relative amounts of foods. Also, the alcohol section is huge, are stores in the US even permitted to sell liquor? (Here, yes, before 10 PM, and after 12.30 on Sundays)


A lot of my classes have finished up their lectures, or are about to, two weeks before the end of term! That's really weird, only nine weeks of lectures? Mentally I'm still used to 16.
It's a month and a half before my first exam!

Take my wife. To the movies.

Today I took the afternoon off and went to the cinema. The closest one is just on the other side of Princes St, about a half-hour walk away, and there are a few others 45 minutes' walk to the west.

British cinemas are about the same as American ones, and I wouldn't expect any different. Expensive popcorn, candies, and sodas. A solid 10 minutes of advertisements before the previews, mostly for cars or beer, and a lot of previews for things only tangentially related to the target audience. Though I didn't see any messages asking me to bin my litter after the show, just to set my mobile to silent.

The rating system is a little different though
Classification Scheme, for the interested
UK: Uc: especially for children under 5
U: 'universal'
PG: same
12A: children 12 and above; children under 12 must be accompanied by an adult; only seen at the cinema
12: same, but only for DVDs and videos; only children 12 or older may rent the film
15: only children 15 or older may watch (or rent). It doesn't say if parents can bring their 14 or younger kids in
18: only adults 18 and older may watch (or rent)

The same classifications are used for buying movies, or on video games.



Also we've seen a few movies in my Particle Physics course, which may or may not be of interest, but most are at least humorous in their own way.
The Quark Dance (no science here!)
Massey University (NZ) explains quarks humorous for the horrible cinematography
Okay there were others but I won't bother listing them. Definitely check out the quark dance.
Did you know that the last quark discovered was only seen in 1995? For real!

eye-fir, eye-fir, eye-fir!

I was walking to the Geography Building today when I made a sudden realisation. In six months of living in Britain, I don't think I have seen a single fire hydrant.

Now, I could be wrong about this. But what tipped me off to the possibility was sighting a small box-shaped cover (on a corner of an intersection I happen to pass through quite often) with the raised letters "fire hydrant". The rest of the walk I tried to think of any large red hydrants I might have seen here, but I can't think of one.

It's one of those things that once you realise it becomes obvious, but it's hard to notice a lack unless you're looking for it.

I'll keep it in mind, anyway, and if I do see one I'll be sure to correct this observation.

Anonymous v. Scientology

So I had no idea that there were worldwide protests against Scientology this Sunday (10 Feb.) but Edinburgh was one city hosting such an event. Apparently a Scientology building is along the main street of Southside, at that point South Bridge St.

However, walking down South Bridge on Sunday afternoon I had no idea of this. I tried to find links to news articles focusing on just the Edinburgh protest but couldn't find any. What I could find were youtube videos.

Edinburgh Scientology Protest - 10/02/08 3:30. Long but the best-made video I found, it scans through the whole day and I think gives a feel for the streets near to Old Town/Royal Mile, if you can mentally remove the weirdly-masked people.

Anonymous protests Cult of $cientology in Edinburgh 0:11. Quick scan of the protesters, if you don't have the inclination to watch the first clip.

Anon 10th Feb 08, Edinburgh 0:46. This was pretty much what I experienced walking by the protesters, only I came up the opposite direction. Silent video.


There were about 30-40 protesters lining the sidewalks outside a bargain store, in strange masks ranging from Guy Fawkes masks to Stormtroopers to bandanas, picketting and handing out flyers and apparently passing a little banter with the Scientology building across the street. There were two police watching over them, as you can see in the videos (the police are wearing bright yellow), but the protesters were pretty well behaved.

Four Score and Seven Years Ago... oh sorry, wrong one.

Somehow I thought that today's big sporting event would be the Super Bowl, everywhere, even Scotland. Although there was some dialogue in the dining hall today at lunch about American football which, as such conversation seem to do, degenerated into commenting on the slowness/lack of toughness of the game, mostly it's been ignored. As far as I can tell.

I can't remark on the popularity of the Superbowl in other years, but I have the feeling that people would care more if not for another sporting event... the Six Nations rugby games, a tournament between Scotland, England, Wales, Ireland, France, and Italy that began yesterday (2 Feb.) to March 15, possibly longer. Today was the match between Scotland and France, and was actually hosted in Edinburgh, so of course the students were more interested in that. (Scotland lost to France, 6-27.)

I went out walking today in the early afternoon, the same time that people were going on their way to the stadium. I saw a few people with French flag facepaint and attire, but mostly the sidewalks were dominated by Scots. It's always interesting, most of the Scotsmen go to matches wearing rugby jerseys of their favorite player and a kilt.

However, my mission for the afternoon was to find the memorial to Scottish soldiers in the American Civil War, which I only found out existed a week ago. I decided the third of February is close enough to Lincoln's birthday, on the 12th, so I went. Minimal research was required to discover where it was, the Old Calton Hill Cemetery, which is on the East End of the Princes St area, right by Waverley train station, but getting in proved a little more difficult. Still, I managed all right. The actual cemetery is tiny, with maybe only 100 grave sites, but to be buried in such a prominent location must have been difficult.

The actual statue of Abraham Lincoln was very easy to find; even if I wasn't looking for it, the fact that it was made of much lighter stone than the other markers makes it stand out quite prominently. Apparently it is the only statue of an American president found outside America? Something, anyway. Abraham Lincoln is holding a copy of the Emancipation Proclaimation on a base inscribed with "Education - Emancipation" around it. Seated below is a freed slave, and below him a dedication to the Scottish soldiers who fought inthe Civil War.

I saw it as soon as I entered the cemetery, and pulled out my camera. A woman came in after me, and asked if I wanted her to take my picture. A little surreal!

Some pictures are posted in the photobucket account, see the links to the right.

"Taking me to parts of the city I rarely think of and never visit..."

Derive. Pronounced dur-eve... It's French.

Last week's lecture in Geography was about derives, in part. It was a method of walking developed in the 1950's by the Situationalists Internationale in Paris (where else), who objected to certain developments they saw in cities. A little bit Marxist, they disliked the materialism of the city, the constraints people experienced to space and time (people seen as chained to the clock), and what they saw as the city planner's way of manipulating the pedestrian's view, impression, and culture of the city by deciding what things would be nearby to one another, what could be seen from how. And one of the more interesting this that hit me was the idea that the planner/developer molds the way people move by designing entrances/exits for masses of people.

So they developed this system of walking, ideally unconstrained by time---so no bounds of going to work, to class, of avoiding rush hour---in which the walker puts himself outside of the preconceived views of the city. The idea is that by seeing the city from different angles we experience it in a different way and can glean a sense of the psychogeography.
To do this you walk through sidestreets, through the small passages between places instead of the wide ones. With a great variation in ambience, very quickly. By ignoring the bird's-eye view (as this is how cities are planned) in favor of the ground-level view. By leaving yourself open to encounters with fellow city-dwellers.

Interesting reading from one of the original derivists: http://library.nothingness.org/articles/SI/en/display/314

Anyway. So make up your own mind about it. The political aspect is a little fuzzy to me: how exactly can walking be a political protest? For yourself, but I doubt anyone else looking at one of these SI blokes actually thought, "now there's a protesting chap if I ever saw one!"

Right. So I had an assignment to go on my own derive through Edinburgh and document it in a way I saw fit---photos were easiest, and in fact I put up all 135 non-fuzzy/-duplicate photos to my photobucket, see links above and to your right. Not all of these made it into my powerpoint, and many were not meant to demonstrate the experience of the derive but rather were interesting things I saw.
Of course those are too many to go through and give titles to all, so forgive me for not doing that either, but if you're interested, a lot of photos are up from my one-day excursion.

All told I was only out for about five hours, but I walked a circuit all around the edge of Edinburgh, roughly skirting the edge between "urban" and "suburban" the time, though of course the suburbs are different here than what we (at least I) expect for a 'typical' American city.

It gave me a lot to think about too, this idea that what we see, what we notice, is designed that way, intentionally so or not. Everything has some story behind it, and for some people those stories of location are the fabric of their lives.

Massive Christmas Update: Scorraig

On Thursday morning I left Katharine's, took the train to the city centre (Central Station), walked about half an hour to the bus station on the other side of the city centre, and boarded a bus heading to Inverness, which is in the Highlands near Loch Ness and the North Sea, with a quick change of bus at Perth. Then Flora and I went grocery shopping for some important Christmas essentials, and we made it to the 'mainland' side of Scoraig, which Google Maps tells me might be called Carnach, seperate from Scoraig by a sea loch, Loch Rum. I think. Pronounced "Room".

Scoraig is a peninsula in the Highlands, nearish to Ullapool, and isn't an island but might as well be. It's best to access via boat. On the 'mainland' side is a free car park and a 'pier', a slope of concrete for small boats, but no permanent place for the boats to go. On the other side of the loch is Scoraig, another concrete pier and a boathouse, and a system by which the boats can be let out to sea using ropes on the pier. It is difficult to explain with words alone so I won't try. Scoraig is also accessible by foot, on a long path around some large hills/small mountains but it's so steep a road may never be put in. Very large things can be brought to Scoraig by a large raft if it's calm and clear.

About eighty people live on Scoraig (Scorraig is the local spelling, but one R is the official), though many were gone for the holidays. Flora divides them into the ones who are "creepy hippies" and the more normal. Most of the people came from England originally, and most are now in their fifties or older, though there are some children growing up there and a few people in their twenties escaping modern life. Everything is driven by wind power, which charges up the batteries used, with solar power secondary. Most people keep animals of some kind, mostly chickens, sheep, and a few people have pigs, cows, or horses. Most of the dogs are trained to be sheepdogs. Half the people are into drugs, some of the home-grown variety.

My first morning on Scorraig was the day of the winter solstice, so Flora and I joined the creepy hippies on the top of a hill to watch the sun come up. We arrived with an armful of fuel for the fire, and received brandy coffee and virgin hot chocolate at the top, shared amongst the dozen or so. The sky slowly lightened around nine, then we grew silent around 9:30 as the first rays broke over the hills. A low "ohm" began when the sun rose above the rocks. Some sort of crazy pagan ritual? Flora and I tried not to giggle. Our efforts were slighted when one of the dogs ran into our direct line of sight and squatted down, leaving its own offering for the solstice.
At that point giggling was guaranteed.

The rest of the time on Scorraig was relaxing and wonderful. What began as myself, Flora, and her parents for the first few days became eleven people in their large cabin. Eleven! During the few hours of daylight we went on walks exploring the area. About half a mile to the west was the end of the peninsula with beautiful views of sunsets, over the uninhabited islands. The mountains dividing Scorraig from civilisation were about two miles away, though I never went that far. One mile to the north brought one over the ridge and down to the other side, which was reputed to be amazing in the summer but muddy and desolate looking when we went over.

Our evenings were spent with large family dinners, games (including The Marble Game... Flora's young nephews, ten and eleven years old, asked me, "Does everyone play this in America?" Hah. Erm, no...) and talking.

Christmas dinner was the slightly untraditional roast beef, apparently most British people have turkey dinners, but it was accompanied by crackers (with crowns, jokes, and toys inside) and whisky---pretty Scottish! We followed the Bush family tradition of having our big dinner on Christmas Eve, and the opening of one present that evening, then a long morning on Christmas Day of presents after the equally-traditional breakfast of an egg and sausage sandwich (I did not partake). Because there were many crackers left over, we had more crackers with our Christmas dinner, which tasted surprisingly like Christmas Eve leftovers. The dinner, not the crackers.

I made friends with the two dogs belonging to Flora's brother, and became their primary caretaker for the almost-week I was on Scoraig. Mai (actually spelled My) was about ten, and her daughter Fati (actually Fatsy, but I felt that was too mean) almost a year old. Both were collie mixes, used as sheepdogs. Fati liked to jump up into laps and be cuddled though she didn't stay for long.

The day before Christmas I made my own contribution to the Christmas biscuits and baked a batch of coconut cookies that were more like coconut-hinted shortbread, as well as a batch of peanut butter cookies with Hershey's Kisses in the center, as Mom makes for Christmas. The Kisses baffled the other ten in the house, they'd never seen such a thing! Flora's "brother-out-law" told me, "I like the peanut butter shortbread biscuits, but what are these dodgy chocolates doing in the middle?" No one could understand how the chocolate kept the shape! I explained how the chocolates are made, and passed around the bag of unused Kisses, which did not impress our British friends. "It tastes like goat's cheese," Flora said. I suspect that British chocolate has different sweeteners than American chocolate. To me it was a bit like the taste of home.

Merry Christmas to all, and Happy Boxing Day!

Wintertime

This morning I walked down to KB for the first time since classes finished (so, in about two weeks). Things actually got more treacherous than the last time I came down. Sometime, possibly last night, the temperatures finally fell below freezing, so the perpetually-wet sidewalks actually froze. The temperatures are back above freezing now, but of course not everything has melted yet. Luckily, my walk to KB is mostly south, and so most of the sidewalks were melted. The problem was with the east-west sidestreets, because the sun doesn't get high enough to extend over the buildings, and the ice was just thin enough to not be visible and just thick enough to still be slippery.

I'm starting to believe it doesn't get much colder than this in Edinburgh, although the wind chill makes it quite cold at times.

Luckily it's almost the solstice, and the days will start to get longer again. On December 20th (the furthest weather.com will let me see) the sun will be up from 8:40 AM - 3:40 PM. Oh good, a full seven hours of sun!
Of course where I'm staying over Christmas is even more north, near Ullapool (latitude: 57 N; Edinburgh is at 55 N; Washington DC is at 37 N, and currently getting 9.5 hours of day). By the time I'm there it will get about six hours of daylight. Oh good.
Flora: "It's really too bad you'll be visiting when it's at its absolute worst."

Anyway. I had my first exam yesterday, in Musical Acoustics, which took place in the same room (a basketball court!) as a medic exam. The medics papers were in the front half, so I spent a good two minutes not being able to find my name and flipping out. The acoustics exams were in the back corner. Why we couldn't take the exam in our usual room is beyond me, but the court has a balcony area that one or two of the proctors used to watch us from above. I felt like I was in a prison exercise yard.
Especially because I was seated at the front of a row, and if I need to cheat off of the medic in front of me for a different exam, then clearly I deserve to fail.

Down at KB this morning to turn in two hand-in assignments, which are actually due Thursday and Friday, but my last exam (Archaeology) is Thursday, so might as well turn them in now. So Thursday at noon, when Archaeology is over, I will be a free woman. (Sort of. I need to make study guides for my other two exams, in May. Another point I don't understand: why are my exams for Term 1 physics courses sat in May? Don't ask.)

Seven Hills of Edinburgh

First, and most importantly, I added a few new photos to my album. Hooray!

On Friday I took a hiking study break. Sort-of hiking. It took much longer to get to Calton Hill, on the east end of Princes St, than it did to climb the hill. At the top is the unfinished National Monument, dedicated to those fallen in the Napoleonic Wars. (The actual road the hill is on is aptly named Waterloo Place.) There's the Nelson Monument, and a few other buildings I'm less sure about. I was absolutely fascinated by a set of columns on the very top of the hill.

Another quick walk, this time through an old residential area and past the Scottish Parliament building, brought me to Holyrood Park. Rather than climb Arthur's Seat, as Ive done every single time I've gone climbing, I went up the Salisbury Crags, which curve around the west/NW side of Arthur's Seat. A short hike, but tougher than I thought it would be, especially with the wind!


You might think that having been here for three months I would no longer be surprised by language differences, but I found a new one last night. Shirts are called different things here, and the whole time I never knew---even working at CHSS I haven't been able to figure this one out.
I think "tops" are usually dressy tops. A "shirt" is a button-down shirt, but I suppose t-shirt is still a t-shirt. How "blouse" fits in here, and what one would call a normal shirt, I have no idea.

I also like the phrasing one uses to go over to someone else's house/flat/home/room/etc. Rather than specify what type of place it is, you drop the object entirely. So I might say,
"I'm going to spend Christmas at Flora's." Flora's what? It doesn't matter.
"Zach is coming over to mine to revise maths." What is mine? Doesn't matter.
Ambiguous, yes, but also eliminates confusion on what to say.