This blog is fulfilling a long held ambition of mine, to actually do some work, well it is work in the loosest possible sense, on my laptop, in my garden.
However the dream is not quite as advertised, as with bright sun, it is almost impossible to use a laptop, I am sitting on some steps in the shade, with the screen just legible and no more. Still it is nice to be out, and I won't quibble at the sun.
Spring has finally arrived, it is very warm this weekend. I have been making the best of it, by spending time in the garden. Yesterday I did a burn of old bits of wood that had been lying about, and today I have been doing a mix of weeding, planting stuff that has outgrown pots, and seemingly endless amounts of shifting stuff about. Unfortunately our garden is anything but level,it must rise the height of a two storey house from front to back, with numerous steps, and slopes everywhere. Therefore no need to buy a wheelbarrow, everying is lugged, with attendant grunting. Good old Attendant Grunting, always there when you need him, though he does go on a bit sometimes, we would not be without him.
Anyway the once sodden soil is now starting to crust up, and weeding has metamorphosed into pulling the leaves off things, it is too hot, my hands are all tingly with stings and scrapes, so catching up on my blog now. Over the weekend I have done a fair bit, so not feeling guilty, and it always seems more productive to mix up the tasks.
There is nothing more natural than being out. The real beauty of gardening is that it gives you an excuse to get out when you need one.
Sunday 27 April 2008
Saturday 19 April 2008
when is now
If you key in, what is the time, to google, it will actually tell you the time. Whereas if you key in, when is now, it will suggest an album you might buy. It is like the maddening book that Borges wrote about with an infinite number of pages, filled with random text and drawings.
I've got a little bored with the format of recent blog posts, so being a little bored with it, I will throw it out altogether and write about something different.
I find writing therapeutic, not in a bland sense, but in the sense, that it genuinely helps me to record, recognise, reorder, rationalise, and then move forward on, my thoughts. I have doubtless written in this blog, in reference to the Getting Things Done methodology, that for me, any number over three might as well be infinite. In my head, without making a specific effort, I can generally retain three thoughts, like a juggler juggling oranges, but after that, there is no guarantee that oranges won't be hitting the floor.
I suppose, that is why I love writing lists for myself. They rationalise my thoughts, and demonstrate that once you start to write them down, there are not actually that many things to do.
I have also found the suggestion from Get Things Done, about carrying a notebook, and writing down my ideas, a useful devise. I suppose that the blog is another dimension of that process.
I suppose some of writing is just about the craft of trying to capture in evocative words, the essence of something. Some of writing is about making sense of a confusing world. Because in reality, we are insignificant actors in an uncaring world. But when we read, we see ourselves at the heart of meaning. Writing is about meaning, that is what language is, meaning conveyed. Life is not, life is living experienced. There is a tension between the two. Maybe what is written is the world as it ought to be, all neatly seen, processed, ordered and rationalised. Just as Darwin and the geologists saw the neat patterns in what lay chaotically around them. We are are own personal Darwins, applying meaning to the chaos of our lives.
Looking forward we marshall our resources, set out our plans, and set sail into the future.
There is something heroic about this sort of writing, something very human about having that boldness to understand, and then want to make an impact on what we know is an uncaring world.
But too much that is written now, is written by the yard, to fill a quota, to meet a deadline, generic fiction, bland analysis. In writing, like in life, one should be careless at times, show a strategic disregard and jump not knowing what lies out there in the dark.
I've got a little bored with the format of recent blog posts, so being a little bored with it, I will throw it out altogether and write about something different.
I find writing therapeutic, not in a bland sense, but in the sense, that it genuinely helps me to record, recognise, reorder, rationalise, and then move forward on, my thoughts. I have doubtless written in this blog, in reference to the Getting Things Done methodology, that for me, any number over three might as well be infinite. In my head, without making a specific effort, I can generally retain three thoughts, like a juggler juggling oranges, but after that, there is no guarantee that oranges won't be hitting the floor.
I suppose, that is why I love writing lists for myself. They rationalise my thoughts, and demonstrate that once you start to write them down, there are not actually that many things to do.
I have also found the suggestion from Get Things Done, about carrying a notebook, and writing down my ideas, a useful devise. I suppose that the blog is another dimension of that process.
I suppose some of writing is just about the craft of trying to capture in evocative words, the essence of something. Some of writing is about making sense of a confusing world. Because in reality, we are insignificant actors in an uncaring world. But when we read, we see ourselves at the heart of meaning. Writing is about meaning, that is what language is, meaning conveyed. Life is not, life is living experienced. There is a tension between the two. Maybe what is written is the world as it ought to be, all neatly seen, processed, ordered and rationalised. Just as Darwin and the geologists saw the neat patterns in what lay chaotically around them. We are are own personal Darwins, applying meaning to the chaos of our lives.
Looking forward we marshall our resources, set out our plans, and set sail into the future.
There is something heroic about this sort of writing, something very human about having that boldness to understand, and then want to make an impact on what we know is an uncaring world.
But too much that is written now, is written by the yard, to fill a quota, to meet a deadline, generic fiction, bland analysis. In writing, like in life, one should be careless at times, show a strategic disregard and jump not knowing what lies out there in the dark.
Sunday 13 April 2008
pedestrians and cyclists
Recently, I have been struck by the behaviour of some people. Firstly there was an elderly jogger stubbornly jogging along on the road, despite there being a perfectly decent pavement right beside him. He was jogging in the direction of traffic, but the road was quite quiet, so any traffic just gave him a wide berth. Then there was a woman cyclist who was stubbornly cycling along the road, but cycling into the traffic. I suppose that this had the merit that she was facing the traffic and could therefore take evasive action if required, and because the oncoming traffic was looking her in the face, it might treat her as a person, rather than dehumanising her.
These people made me wonder whether there would be benefits to all cyclists doing the same, cycling into the oncoming traffic. In terms of how much road it takes up, and safety, it might well be an improvement on the existing system.
Of course I did eventually see the drawback to my brilliant idea, junctions. You are going to hit problems every time you reach a junction, if you are on the wrong side of the road. Nonetheless, there might be some merit to rethinking such things. There is thinking around slowing down traffic, and this sort of thing could be part of that process.
Anyway, an idea to park for the time being, but possibly one to come back to.
These people made me wonder whether there would be benefits to all cyclists doing the same, cycling into the oncoming traffic. In terms of how much road it takes up, and safety, it might well be an improvement on the existing system.
Of course I did eventually see the drawback to my brilliant idea, junctions. You are going to hit problems every time you reach a junction, if you are on the wrong side of the road. Nonetheless, there might be some merit to rethinking such things. There is thinking around slowing down traffic, and this sort of thing could be part of that process.
Anyway, an idea to park for the time being, but possibly one to come back to.
thinking of spring
Nothing much to report, possibly the result of writing this blog late afternoon, rather than the more usual early morning. I suppose some times are just more conducive to long blogs, and others to short ones.
Busy at work, getting through stuff, but nothing that I can think is worth noting here.
At home, the weather is thinking about spring, though still prone to snow and hail. I've set up a couple of outdoor chairs that I leave out all summer, and started to look at what will need done in the garden, but just not quite warm enough yet to tempt me out. When the weather is right, there is nothing better than the excuse of garden to have you pottering about outside.
I've run a 30 meter ethernet cable through the house, so that the girls now have internet access in their room. However it is all a bit curly, so I'm tempted to take it all down and do it all again properly. However it must be just on the cusp of being able to run along skirting boards, rather than nipping across the ceiling. There are a few extra loops left, but whether it is enough for the more aesthetically pleasing long way round is near impossible to estimate. Possibly a job for a 30 meter piece of string and some drafting tape. However that can be a job for another day.
Monthly community meeting yesterday so paperwork from that has swallowed up a fair chunk of the weekend. Also all the usual stuff around the house.
My new favourite font is the operina font, which is based on a sixteenth century book on calligraphy. Being calligraphy based it is splendidly wonky, and eccentric. It is a pure pleasure to use, because you never quite know what to expect, when some gothic embellishment will suddenly appear.
Busy at work, getting through stuff, but nothing that I can think is worth noting here.
At home, the weather is thinking about spring, though still prone to snow and hail. I've set up a couple of outdoor chairs that I leave out all summer, and started to look at what will need done in the garden, but just not quite warm enough yet to tempt me out. When the weather is right, there is nothing better than the excuse of garden to have you pottering about outside.
I've run a 30 meter ethernet cable through the house, so that the girls now have internet access in their room. However it is all a bit curly, so I'm tempted to take it all down and do it all again properly. However it must be just on the cusp of being able to run along skirting boards, rather than nipping across the ceiling. There are a few extra loops left, but whether it is enough for the more aesthetically pleasing long way round is near impossible to estimate. Possibly a job for a 30 meter piece of string and some drafting tape. However that can be a job for another day.
Monthly community meeting yesterday so paperwork from that has swallowed up a fair chunk of the weekend. Also all the usual stuff around the house.
My new favourite font is the operina font, which is based on a sixteenth century book on calligraphy. Being calligraphy based it is splendidly wonky, and eccentric. It is a pure pleasure to use, because you never quite know what to expect, when some gothic embellishment will suddenly appear.
Saturday 5 April 2008
the sky is talcum grey
As with the weather, the cold just does not seem to be going away.
We were forecast snow for this weekend, and yesterday was one of those days that looked spectacular when you were indoors, but if you actually did go out side, then the cold wind sucked the fun out of the day.
Accordingly although the garden is shaggy of grass, and those pesky weeds are starting to grow, I still have little inclination to spend a shivery day out there working.
My personal cold, is now manifesting as a scratchy throat, and the usual feeling of being run down and lacking energy. I've taken to buying a bag of oranges on Monday mornings and having one around 10.00, and another around 15.00, and it is something that I would recommend. However this cold does just seem to be a war of attrition.
As a result of the cold and the recent batch of holidays, the weeks have flown by, and various work things are not nearly as far advanced as I would like them to be. I'll really need to knuckle down at work, put in the hours, and push these things forward, full of the cold, or not.
Last week was an interesting week, we had a tour of the vast art deco gormenghast of a building that we work in, from the walnut panelled office at the top, to the old death cell at the bottom. The panelled office was wonderful, although it was pointed out that the dramatic figuration in the panelling looked like a face, repeated and repeated around the room, always staring at you. So maybe not an office for those with a guilty conscience or an overactive imagination. The death cell, was the cell that prisoners would stay in the night before their execution. Of course that was when the building was a prison, or gaol. The top bit of the goal is all gone, but at the bottom some inevitably remains, including the death cell. It was an irregular shaped room, now with concrete floor, and lined with wooden shelves filled with redundant phones. Despite neighbouring rooms being warm with the fuzzy heat from phone exchanges and computer servers, the death cell remained resolutely cold.
A few meetings, hence my impatience to get things moving along. Nothing worse than constantly reporting back that you have only done so much, and really really intend to do more. My Friday meeting entailed a train trip, so that gobbled up quite a lot of the day. Though it was a lovely sunny day, with the late afternoon sun particularly warm and lazy. Coming into town I spotted a fox basking next to the railway line, despite simply being on the railway side of some banking, with a busy piece of ground beloved by dog walkers, just behind him. And coming home, I spotted the five deer that I've seen a few times, all sitting in a hedgerow, warming themselves in the late afternoon sun. As ever on the train, you look and look, then you see some wildlife in only the merest of glimpses as your viewpoint and perspective changes. But it if you know where to look, but they are wonderful glimpses.
At home, I'm switching my emphasis from building up the home IT set up, which is largely done for the moment, to trying to squirrel away money. That said, I've always loved to follow shares, so investing is more akin to a flutter on the horses than some dry putting away money for a rainy day. Although my shares are down overall, I'm currently looking at a thirty percent return on one business, which with my modest holdings translates into a few hundred pounds.
Quite a few of my shares are ones that are regularly subject to takeover bids, and that never does any harm. I also know their average purchase price, so when I buy shares monthly, I try and buy whatever is below its average purchase price. That way I increase my margins when I sell.
I would like to build up a pretty substantial nest egg over the next few years, on the grounds that the mortgage will come due, and like most folk of my vintage, our endowment policies seem to be producing more depression than anything else. Also the girls are getting to the age where money will need to be found for big ticket things like and education, rather than shiny whistles, and boilings. As ever, having built up my nest egg, I don't imagine that I will hang onto it.
And as I close this, the sky is talcum grey, and snow falls lazily, the bubble gum pink of the camelia flowers the brightest colour behind a tissue of snowflakes.
We were forecast snow for this weekend, and yesterday was one of those days that looked spectacular when you were indoors, but if you actually did go out side, then the cold wind sucked the fun out of the day.
Accordingly although the garden is shaggy of grass, and those pesky weeds are starting to grow, I still have little inclination to spend a shivery day out there working.
My personal cold, is now manifesting as a scratchy throat, and the usual feeling of being run down and lacking energy. I've taken to buying a bag of oranges on Monday mornings and having one around 10.00, and another around 15.00, and it is something that I would recommend. However this cold does just seem to be a war of attrition.
As a result of the cold and the recent batch of holidays, the weeks have flown by, and various work things are not nearly as far advanced as I would like them to be. I'll really need to knuckle down at work, put in the hours, and push these things forward, full of the cold, or not.
Last week was an interesting week, we had a tour of the vast art deco gormenghast of a building that we work in, from the walnut panelled office at the top, to the old death cell at the bottom. The panelled office was wonderful, although it was pointed out that the dramatic figuration in the panelling looked like a face, repeated and repeated around the room, always staring at you. So maybe not an office for those with a guilty conscience or an overactive imagination. The death cell, was the cell that prisoners would stay in the night before their execution. Of course that was when the building was a prison, or gaol. The top bit of the goal is all gone, but at the bottom some inevitably remains, including the death cell. It was an irregular shaped room, now with concrete floor, and lined with wooden shelves filled with redundant phones. Despite neighbouring rooms being warm with the fuzzy heat from phone exchanges and computer servers, the death cell remained resolutely cold.
A few meetings, hence my impatience to get things moving along. Nothing worse than constantly reporting back that you have only done so much, and really really intend to do more. My Friday meeting entailed a train trip, so that gobbled up quite a lot of the day. Though it was a lovely sunny day, with the late afternoon sun particularly warm and lazy. Coming into town I spotted a fox basking next to the railway line, despite simply being on the railway side of some banking, with a busy piece of ground beloved by dog walkers, just behind him. And coming home, I spotted the five deer that I've seen a few times, all sitting in a hedgerow, warming themselves in the late afternoon sun. As ever on the train, you look and look, then you see some wildlife in only the merest of glimpses as your viewpoint and perspective changes. But it if you know where to look, but they are wonderful glimpses.
At home, I'm switching my emphasis from building up the home IT set up, which is largely done for the moment, to trying to squirrel away money. That said, I've always loved to follow shares, so investing is more akin to a flutter on the horses than some dry putting away money for a rainy day. Although my shares are down overall, I'm currently looking at a thirty percent return on one business, which with my modest holdings translates into a few hundred pounds.
Quite a few of my shares are ones that are regularly subject to takeover bids, and that never does any harm. I also know their average purchase price, so when I buy shares monthly, I try and buy whatever is below its average purchase price. That way I increase my margins when I sell.
I would like to build up a pretty substantial nest egg over the next few years, on the grounds that the mortgage will come due, and like most folk of my vintage, our endowment policies seem to be producing more depression than anything else. Also the girls are getting to the age where money will need to be found for big ticket things like and education, rather than shiny whistles, and boilings. As ever, having built up my nest egg, I don't imagine that I will hang onto it.
And as I close this, the sky is talcum grey, and snow falls lazily, the bubble gum pink of the camelia flowers the brightest colour behind a tissue of snowflakes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)