2011 Reflection

I’m not sure if I’ve said previously, but I’m currently in the Grand Ol’ US of A with the folks, siblings and assorted others. It feels so good to get time away from the daily grind, it is as though I have left the weight of all the inevitable life niggles behind. I’ve never really felt that before, but as I sit in my favourite bookstore, in a beautiful Colorado ski town, sipping a hot chai tea latte on what is a bone-chillingly cold day, I truly am able to appreciate how important it is to get away from all that, to take the time to do something different, something that allows you to appreciate what you have. I guess the fact that we are currently braced to step in to a new year might have something to do with it as well.

2011 has been an interesting year, some changes, some maintenance of the status quo. On the whole it’s not been bad. The biggest hurdle has been getting the hang of living in a new home, with my wonderful other half, well wonderful most of the time. There are a lot of things that happen during your journey on this earth that will change the way you travel, some you know about even if you can’t fully appreciate, some that sneak up on you rather unexpectedly. Moving out of my parent’s house has definitely been in the second category. It’s been hard at times, really hard, the days when you realise that you have been living the way you are used to and as a result you suddenly have no clean pants or pans, the only things for dinner are broccoli that has gone to bloom, half a tub of yoghurt and a lump of salami, (take away anyone?) and you have absolutely no idea what to tackle first. Add to that the fact that the other half works shifts, something I am not yet used to and possibly never will be, and the whole thing can get somewhat overwhelming, making you thing that you’d really like to just move back home and write the whole idea off as a bit of a misadventure. Spending your evening shuttling between houses and never really having your own space wasn’t that bad was it?

Whilst those days are hard they are hugely outweighed by the good days. The days when you’ve done everything that “has” to be done together as a couple and then you have time to enjoy each others company, the days that you spend doing the things you want to do and are able share your challenges and successes with that special someone at the end of it, the meals together where it is just the two of you and you just sit and chat, having friends over on your own terms, and leaving last nights plates on the table because lets face it who cares!

The maintenance of the status quo is almost a bigger challenge and weight on my mind, but in a less immediate way. I have no problem actually maintaining the status quo, I get up, I go to work, I do my tasks, I come home, I work out, I see friends, simple. It is un-maintaining, breaking the pattern to allow other things into my life, which is the difficult task. Finding time to write, for example, both here and in other formats, is not something I have regularly found time for in the past, but I know it is something I want, or possible even need, to fit in.

Challenging whether my job is where I really want to be is another. The difficultly there however is whilst I know it doesn’t make me happy, I’m not sure what would. In the past I have spent a lot time locked in an internal battle about what career path is right for me, but as someone very wise pointed out, if you don’t give yourself space and time how are you ever suppose to figure that out. So rather than ponder and debate with myself I have spent 2011 trying to give myself some space to breath, I’m hoping 2012 provides some answers, but I guess not all of us know what we are “meant to be” and maybe I never will.

Whatever I may think of 2011 when I look back, it has definitely been a year of learning, learning how to live with someone new, learning how to give myself space to live, and learning that the things that don’t come easily may be challenging but facing that challenge is worth it. I hope that 2011 was a good year for you and that 2012 is a positive one too. Hey if all else fails at least we only have 7 months until the Olympic come to London (and if it’s not your thing 7 ½ months until it finishes)!

That end of year feeling

Well it doesn't look as though December is a good time of year for blogging does it? I can't believe it's been nearly a month since I last had anything to say. Of course that isn't true, I have had plenty to say, but I've also had a terrible case of the "I'll justs", I'll just sort some presents, I'll just do some wrapping, I'll just sort the decorations. It isn't only blogging that has been neglected though, the laundry, the washing up, any hint of organisation have all been affected, in fact the house and by proxy my life in general has become a slovenly hole during the run up to Christmas festivities. Also, so much for a restful Christmas period, I've hardly stopped, don't get me wrong it has been lovely all round, I've seen friends (thought so not as much as I'd like) and family, I've eaten good food and been spoilt rotten. None of that however has left much time for just sitting down and getting thoughts down on paper. I'm now on a bit of a break with my family and loved ones, not only will it be a chance for some quality time, but also there will be plenty of time for writing. However if I don't get a chance to write in the next couple of days, let me take this opportunity to wish you a Happy New Year and a bright start to 2012. Here's to 12 months of pen to paper!

A shorty..........or not!

Right I can’t stop long, my fiction work in progress is coming along nicely and I want to keep the flow up. However I didn’t want to just leave you with all that crazy from last time, especially when there is so much crazy going on in the world at large, particularly on these fair isles of the United Kingdom, or as it shall hence forth be known the ‘Not Really All That United Kingdoms of It’s Not Fair and Anyway They Started It’. Honestly between Paul McMullan, the public sector strikes and the fact I’ve lost my parking at work, I think I might leave, jump ship before it’s too late, bugger off elsewhere, American perhaps, where at least the crazy doesn’t come as such a surprise.

I don’t even feel as thought it is worth covering McMullan, I mean really I think the man has utterly cracked up, the things he came out with at the Leveson Enquiry on Tuesday were totally bizarre. The only possible explanation is, that he knows he’s going down, so he has decided to, not only take down the entire, sinking ship down with him, but also to ensure that he’ll go down in infamy for being barmy if nothing else! It seems as though he thinks, that by sticking to the principles by which he has been operating, he retains some sort of dignity? Mr McMullan words fail me.

The public sector strikes this week are trickier, I’m fully aware of the difficulties of being a public sector worker, I am one, as is my other half. At the moment we all feel we are being squeezed in every direction imaginable. What other people don’t see is that’s it’s not just the fact that we haven’t had a pay rise and we are concerned about what is happening to our pensions that is affecting us. Management are squeezing more and more, out of less and less staff, many of us are already dealing with the consequences of a lack of investment in every area of our working lives, from IT infrastructure to the buildings we work in, to staff training, and much more between. We lack a lot and we make do. Non public sector workers may well look at us and say, we know nothing about the high end pressures of the private sector and they may be correct, but they probably don’t have to deal with working in cold buildings with broken heaters, having to beg for an extra paper clip or pencil, and being expected to produce high level work whilst being trusted about as much as you would a six years old with a flame thrower. Then there is IE6, yes, you read that correctly, some of us are still using IE6.

Having said all of that I’m not sure going on strike was the best plan in the world. It felt a bit like, we have a plan so we are going to gosh, darn stick to it whatever the circumstances. What the public sector and the unions need to be careful about is that wider public support in our favour has the potential to be one of the most powerful tools in the arsenal. However at the moment everyone is effected just as badly, everyone is feeling the pinch and everyone is quite likely to quickly get fed up with what they could see as the public sector whinging on a bit, whilst Europe is hanging on by a thread and might well fall in to a massive financial black hole, threatening to pull us in with it. There seemed to be general public support for Wednesday’s strikes, but lets not assume that will hold out if we aren’t careful. Unfortunately my experience on Wednesday, when I happened to have a long time planned day of annual leave, was that there seemed to be an awful lot of people having a jolly good day off work and not many folk on the picket lines. I mean come on if we are going to strike lets at least give sky news something to stand their reports by otherwise they get lonely and confused.

Me losing my parking is by the by, never-the-less the way things are going it could be the straw that breaks the camels back. Then again deep down I am terribly English so I might just pull the curtains, have a nice cup of tea and wait for all this to just blow over. 

Chilly Brrrrrrr

**RANT**

I’m cold, I’m tired, approximately 78.9% of me aches, and there is no decent chocolate in the house. I am currently sat combating the above with a hot water bottle attractively wedged down my waistband, chowing down ibuprofen and considering spreading nutella on a chocolate digestive. The aches and pains I’ll accept, they are probably self inflicted, as is the tiredness which I’ll also take responsibility for. The chocolate is a bigger problem and it is currently incurable and not my fault. The blame for that, I lay at the feet of my other half. However since he is currently out working his third night shift on a cold and foggy night, probably picking up someone who either isn’t that ill or could get themselves to hospital if they tried, I’ll let him off, for now. The cold however is another matter and one I am hereby thoroughly objecting to. It seems that whatever I do I am cold, even in the height of summer the slightest breeze fells like a chill to me. I’m the only person I know to pack several jumpers on an August trip to California, that air-conditioning is frightful you know. In fact the only time that I am warm is doing cardio, or at 3am inevitably on a Monday morning when I wake up sweating profusely, inexplicably with no feeling in my hands and I cannot for the love of all that is good and pure get back to sleep.

I hate being cold all the time. For starters being too hot or too cold means you are constantly uncomfortable, you are always adjusting, always trying to get to a state where you feel settled and that is tiring. It drains you always being cold, even if it is only a little chilly, you notice it, your are always aware of it. If you are always cold, forget having a sense of style or developing your own fashion signature, because however good you look no one else will see it because you have to cover everything up with three layers of jumpers, fleeces and associated gubins. Of course the other issue that comes with being cold is occasionally being too hot for short periods of time. Say you walk somewhere briskly for example, you are obviously doing your usual and wearing plenty of layers, so of course as soon as you enter somewhere that is warmer that where were, you have a sudden short heat wave all to yourself. You get sweaty, go red, and everyone around you thinks you are a bit special as you frantically strip down to the minimum amount of clothing you can wear whilst remaining decent, even if you are able to hold on to any pride, approximately 5-10 minutes later your body catches up and you are suddenly piling layers back on as though the next arctic winter has arrived unannounced. It is thoroughly ridiculous and general means that people rarely believe that you can be cold al the time.

The whole things is frustrating, annoying and ultimately completely out of my control. And so I shall continue to sit here with my hot water bottle wedged down my pants and hope that at least when my other half gets home he’ll be doing his best impression of the milk tray man.

**RANT OVER**

Tick Tock

THE PROBLEM WITH YOUR BIOLOGICAL CLO........HANG ON.

That’s better I put it in the next room, in a box, wrapped in a blanket, under the bed, then I shut the door. Now where was I?

Ah yes. The problem with your biological clock is that it can get to a point where it is ticking so loudly you can barely hear yourself think. If that is the case, how are you supposed to know what is right and what is the crazy lady who’s been driven mad by the ticking? Brining a child into the world is a massive under-taking and not to be done lightly. However the incessant ticking is something I’m not sure can be described to those who have not experienced it. I can understand the view some folk have of those who seem from the outside desperately crazy to procreate. I do tend to agree there are some people who get wrapped up by the onward march of time and seem very much from the outside to be unable to consider what is actually important. However to tar everyone experiencing this phenomenon with the same brush is firstly unfair and secondly likely to create a self-fulfilling prophecy. Yes I want to have children, yes that tick, tick, tick is very distracting, but no, I am not on a one woman mission to get what I want right now with no thought for how I go about it and whose life I alter doing it. There are, I am sure, a lot of women who find themselves with this unbearably strong desire to procreate, but I am also sure that it is the minority who let the crazy win out, and I’m not really certain I can blame them for giving into it either. There are certain actions that are unforgivable, but these are the type of one off you rarely hear about whatever Liz Jones would like us to believe.  

Before that switch flicked I couldn’t have imagine what it would be like. There are a lot of experiences that even if you haven’t been through them personal the nature of the shared human experience can give you an insight, for me this was not one of them. I know I am not in the right position to think about starting a family at the moment, financially, emotionally nor within my relationship, but none of those seem to matter as much as they should. I know that if I were to have a child now I would not be giving it the best opportunities. I know that in reality I have plenty of time and opportunity to start a family; I just don’t really believe it. I’m terrified that it isn’t going to happen and no-one will convince me otherwise however reasoned and logical their argument. Equally however there are those who would say, “well go on then, do it”. That makes me almost as mad, I am fighting to maintain the clearest and most reasoned view of the scenario that I can under a huge amount of mental pressure. The added pressure of flippant individuals chipping away at my sanity is neither helpful nor appreciated. The symptoms crated by this sudden flip from want, to perceived immeasurable need, are not limited to wanting to have a child whatever the cost, not being if the position to fulfil this darkens everything else in your life. Your job, becomes a pointless waste of time that is not getting you to where you need to be, you become reckless about your career and unable to see a bigger, long term picture which includes possibilities, instead you only see the pitfalls and negatives, which in the long run is unlikely to be helpful and in the short term can cause you to take rash decisions. Your relationship becomes strained as you suddenly only see the things which are unconducive to getting what you want. Not only that, but these are not things which you can then address in a reasoned and measured way, working together as a couple to overcome. They must be sorted to your total satisfaction right now, because whilst you understand that in theory there may be room for compromises you don’t have time to figure them out. No-one seems to understand your sense of urgency. Of course the worst thing in all of this, is that you know you are being, shall we say “a bit mental”, but however hard you try to reign yourself in and ward of the effects, you know that it isn’t enough and that other people can see the cracks. You wonder if you should just succumb since you are obviously slipping anyway, and at least then you’ll feel like they have a right to judge you and you wouldn’t be so mentally exhausted.

At the end of the day though it is about you, your partner, but mostly it is about that life that you want to bring into the world that has no choice in the matter. It is your duty to protect it from everything, including a crazy, ill prepared mother. That is what you have to hold on to, everyday with all of your strength, because whilst the analogy of a ticking clock is appropriate, a more accurate one is that you are standing on the edge of a precipice and if you let go of that shred of sanity life will never be the same. 

Jammy Toast

I’m having one of those weeks. You know the kind where the thoughts keep coming and coming, and despite being completely unrelated they all sort of fit together, jarringly, but they still fit.

Firstly there are all these damn babies, everywhere. I am at that point in my life where everyone is pregnant, literally everyone. I am starting to get a worrying suspicion about some of the boys I know. And right there is part of the issue, the boys I know, not them directly, but the fact that to me they are still the boys, when actually they are not at all, well apart from sometimes perhaps when they are playing Call of Duty or discussing inventing musical bras in the pub. On the whole though, they are not boys, not any more. They are men, men who have jobs, who have wives and girlfriends, who have responsibilities and demands on their time, men who make their own group up adult choices, some of whom are becoming fathers to tiny little babies. Some of whom are still choosing to take part in amateur dramatics despite the fact their mothers stopped making them go to Saturday drama class many moons ago (but we’ll come back to that). When I am a grown up I want all those things too, but if they are *whispers* grown ups, then that makes me one to. I want, a wedding and babies and responsibilities, but honestly not now, when I’m a grown up, which evidence suggests I might already be. You see my problem?

Back to the drama thing and we have another problem with this week. I have wholly accepted, in a way that I wish I could achieve acceptance in other areas of my life, that my friendship group consists of amdram-ers. That thought will bring dread and horror to a lot of you and I do understand your fear. However I think I’m a little that way inclined myself and as such I don’t really mind the fact I am destined to spend a certain percentage of my precious free time in slight strange, little theatres across the country watching productions ranging from the utterly shabby to the astonishingly brilliant. What I do object to however is going to see, an all be it very well performed, piece of musical theatre that demands of me that I think, on a Wednesday for goodness sake. This week I saw a show that made me consider the point of my own existence and question how on earth I am going to achieve anything, and then under harsh and unflattering spotlights, asked what the point of it all was anyway! Thanks very bloody much guys. Who needs enemies when your friends are amdram folk who like to screw with your mind?

My final irritation is the garlic press, well that, the dire state of the global economy and the seemingly inevitable collapse of the single currency in Europe, but mainly the garlic press. Anyway they are all ultimately linked. World leaders, who as we know are all a lying bunch of incompetent idiots, are never-the-less still world leader. I ask myself time and time again how this can be the case when we all know what utter imbeciles they are,  well apart from possibly Angela Merkel and Johanna Siguroardottir. Why have we not boo-ed them out of their seats of power and chased them away to some dank hovel, where they can live out their remaining miserable days trying to blame someone else for their failings. I’ll tell you why because world leader have invented a plot to keep us all poor and having to work hard, thus totally unable to muster the energy to unseat them, in doing so they have now created a financial crisis which is so full of bullshit ordinary human beings can’t understand it. What is the cornerstone of this devious plot, expensive but annoyingly useful kitchen gadgetry. The garlic press for example, no-one needs a garlic press, you can chop the stuff, crush it with the back of a knife, heck just use it whole, right? Well no actually, once you have had a garlic press you can’t just chop it, or smoosh it, you can probably just chuck it in still, but that isn’t always appropriate. Once you have had a garlic press you simply cannot imagine wasting the time and energy with any other form of garlic preparation. Not only that but you suddenly become approximately 5% less crazy as you no longer spend three days after preparing a garlic based meal checking with everyone around you that you have not got garlic breath, only to discover just as the phenomenon passes, that in fact it was your cupped hand you were holding up to your mouth which smelt and not in fact your breath. There are a number of other examples, a potato masher, why not just use a fork? Oh and the plethora of peeling devices on the market, since one simply couldn’t just use a knife? None of these things are cheap and worse still whilst in theory they make life easier, they in fact don’t. Have you ever considered the fact a garlic press is full of crannies, crannies which will end up containing most of said garlic rather than you hard worked on culinary delight? We only keep buying them, because they are so expensive we have to kid ourselves that they actually work. And that ladies and gentlemen I assure you is the most likely true root of the economic crisis.

So those are my irritations, my issue laid bare. I know what I want when I’m ready, I know I am not in a place to get, and the universe is clearly not on my side, and the only thing right now bringing me any comfort is a cup of tea and some jammy toast.

Honesty and Turning on the Taps

Ok I will hold my hands up and admit it. The transformation of the Om from trash filled heap to almost lovely working space was the catalyst from me to neglect the blog for a few days, but after those first few days the fear of what to write, the act of over thinking it and a general drying up of ideas was what kept me away.

I guess all those folks who say you have to keep writing to keep the tap running are correct. It is scary how quickly the words disappear when you don’t keep it up. How a once fantastic idea with huge potential for growth suddenly seems like a withered shame of a notion when over thought and not allowed to flow on to the page.

So I am back, and I am not necessarily writing the most interesting and thought provoking posts, but I’m leaving the tap on and hopefully those little nuggets of writing gold will out in the wash.

Right now however I am feeling rather smug that I have been brave enough to come back and write even if it is dull as ditch water, so I am off to reward myself with a cuppa and a choccie hobnob. If you are still reading I suggest you do the same, you deserve it. 

Om

Sorry I have been absent for nearly a fortnight now, but I have been working on something very important to me. My own space.

My other half and I moved in to our first home together about four months ago, and as anyone who has done such a thing will attest to, it takes a while to get your space sorted. The house is certainly far from perfect, but I have finally got my own little room sorted out enough that I have somewhere to sit, create, read, write etc.

And why Om do I hear you ask? No, oh well I'm still going to tell you. As it is the smallest room in the house it was in grave danger of being called the baby room. My other half wasn't overly keen on what the implications of that name might be, he therefore suggested that since it was half a room it should either be called the Ro or the Om. Om it is.

So that's why I haven't been regaling you with my thoughts, ideas and Newsnight inspired rants. I am set up now though, so I will try harder!

Premature Farewells

Today I joined a family and friends in saying goodbye to a loved one. Today I watched three too young siblings saying goodbye to a father far too soon. I've got nothing eloquent or profound to say. Just that it breaks my heart. 

Current Affairs

Last week was a grumpy week I’m afraid, a lot of things have been making me rather cross, mostly things of a current afraid nature. I fact there has been so much bugging me I haven’t known where to start writing. At the beginning of the week there was the nonsense about the Welsh Rugby coach thinking about cheating was niggling with me. He thought about cheating, and that’s news, really? Then there is the prospect of weeks more speculation, surrounding friend of the now ex-defence minister Dr Liam Fox, Adam Werrity. It’s seems that some members of the press and government thought that treating us all to a drawn out process of whether anybody Adam Werrity had ever spoken to had done so improperly would be fun. It wouldn’t, it might however encourage me to get my DIY done so that I don’t have to be subjected to any more of this drivel. On Wednesday I was watched Newsnight and it nearly finished me off, as my twitter time line will attest to. Did the entire office indulge in a bag of shrooms and them leave the work experience kid alone with the sound effects? I though it was a news and current affairs program not a pantomime. However in the grand scheme of things all of these minor annoyances pale into insignificance compared to what I am going to focus here.

This week all other news item have been toppled from the top spot by the liberation of Libya and the death of Muammar al-Gaddafi. The world and more importantly the Libyan people are of the opinion that the end of Gaddafi’s rule is the best thing that could have happened to Libya, there is also a fairly wide spread view that the fact he was killed is no bad thing either, drawing a very final line under this period in the country’s history. There is however some debate about whether he was simply killed evading capture, or whether he was captured and then killed. I have to say I really don’t know what my opinion of his death is. What I do have an opinion on is the way in which the international media has been broadcasting images and footage of both his dead body and the moments before he was killed.

I agree that there is a debate to be had over the way in which he was killed and such footage will play a part in that discussion. To talk about such images is one think, but to show the one television and in the newspapers for joe public to gawp at is quite frankly sick. Of course I have the choice not to look at such things (for the most part) if I choose not to, but what does it say about the organisations that chose to show this stuff. Of course we see gruesome imaged in fictional programs, but these are stories and if people feel that is appropriate that is fine. This however is a real human being, and it does not mater who he is or what he is done, as those who are supposedly civilised it is our duty to show him dignity whatever we think of him. The would be outcry is such images were displayed, without some sort of family consent, of someone treated in this way if that individual were considered to be a victim.

I could really get myself on a roll on this vein, you may think I have already. Instead I shall leave it at that. I hope the majority choose not to look at these images, to not indulge in this degradation of humanity. Sadly however I don’t believe this is either a one off, nor the lowest point we can reach.

An Hour

I spent an hour today, a whole long hour, attempting to print one, single-sided sheet of A4. Do you know how many other things I could have done with that hour? I could have written at least a 1,000 words, probably 2,500 if I wasn't really fussed how good they were. I could have watched that episode of Glee that’s waiting for me on my digital recorder. I could have finished reading my book, gone for a run, made some soup, heck I could have cleared my in-box at work. Instead I spent a whole hour running backwards and forwards between various printers in my building in the vain hope that one of them would deem me worthy, by producing print job I’d requested.

It wasn’t anything particularly difficulty, as already mentioned it was a single-sided sheet of A4. I need it in colour and there were a couple of small logos included, all set up on page orientated to landscape. Really nothing too challenging and the black and white printer had no trouble with it. The colour printer on the other hand, oh no, this was far too challenging. The first printer was happy to print in colour, but for some reason, known only to it’s inner cogs and gears, the request to print landscape was simply beyond its grasp, I tried every setting my poor decrepit desktop offers me. I sent it to every tray on the printer with the paper set in every combination of positions, but it stubbornly refused to do anything except centrally print my landscape document on a portrait page, so not only was it in the wrong orientation, but it was also missing quite significant words from the left hand side of the text.

Eventually I could no longer face the whirring, clunking hunk of junk which was not only refusing to do as I ask, but also insisting that I needed to manually tell it everything was good to go by pressing the ‘online’ button before it would spew forth a single letter or punctuation mark. So I ventured downstairs to another colour printer.

I particularly hate this printer, we have a relationship which goes way back. Sure things started out rosie, and it was my closest ally in the office, zipping out clear, crisp copies of any documents I should need. As is the way of these things however the relationship soon soured, it refused to print except from the manual feed tray, which is a tricky bugger at the best of times, still we soldiered on. Until the fateful day I came down to find the manual feed tray broken, I tried everything to fix it but eventually I gave up and had to call in the big guns and ask reception to call for an engineer. However the engineer came, the engineer went and within five minute the manual feed was broken again. This cycle went on until I eventually gave up reporting the issue and printing in colour.

Never-the-less today I knew I’d have to go and try and re-kindle a relationship with my nemesis if I ever wanted my document printed. Let’s just say things did not end well and I still am without my solitary, sheet printed out. After an hour of trying and failing, I was forced to leave the office for a long standing appointment. Possibly fortuitous timing all things considered, as I had reached tipping point, the slightest nudge would have sent me over the edge and one or more useless pieces of machinery might have found themselves getting defenestrated.

I now intend to spend an evening in the calm, serenity of some sewing. I shall surround myself with the soft, forgivingness of my beautiful fabrics and loose myself in colour and texture. Just so long as the sewing machine doesn’t start playing silly buggers everything will be just fine..............

Is it that time?

“Is it that time yet?” seems to be all I’m hearing at the moment. Is it time to put the central heating on? Personally I think central heating should be on September to June inclusive, but then again I am generally the one still wearing three layers in July.  

I’m not sure if I am noticing it more this year because it’s something I now have control over, or if the question is just being asking more because it’s been unseasonably warm for October. I imagine it is usually perfectly acceptable to have the central heating on in October, but since September decided to go out in a blaze of glory this year*, folk are confused.

As I mentioned I am newly in control of my own central heating having moved out of my parents place recently, and as such I’m rapidly discovering a problem with conventional central heating systens. Cleverly you can get a nice, compact control panel which allows you to tell your boiler when you would like it to come on do its thing. Very useful, well it would be very useful if you could program it more than twice a day. TWICE a day, seriously what use is twice a day? Admittedly the reason it is a problem for me is that I live with a shift worker, but I hardly think they are that much of a minority.

My other half works for the Ambulance service, and as such gets up at silly time of the day and night to go and save the world one fallen, little, old lady at a time. As such I have no idea how to set the heating to fit with his ridiculousness? If he is getting up at 5am, I hardly want to be sleeping through 3 hours of heating, even I would roast, but then again nor does he want to be getting up in the freezing cold. However the chances of finding a system to cope with him, is only slight more likely than get struck by lightening, twice and marginally less so than me finding a sink with a half bowl the opposite side from the draining board.  I never knew how many traumas there were when becoming a homeowner!

However having said that October may not be living up to the legacy left by September, but it’s hardly chilly so you never know maybe these musings will turn out to entirely academic. (cue a mid-October freeze!)

* Since I mentioned it, no that was not an Indian summer, that was a freaky week.

Think Differently

You either already know where I am going with this or you don't. If you don't I wouldn't bother reading on, it's probably not your thing.

I have neither the eloquence nor the experience to talk about the passing of Steve Jobs with any authority, and lets face it many have written much on the subject already. Still I just can't let this moment in our history (and it will make up a part of my generations history) without saying anything.

I was far more affected on Wednesday than I would have imagined. I did not know Jobs, my only connection to him being the prevalence, in our society, of the products his company have produced. However lets not under-estimate the impact of those products, whatever you think of them. It is not just that though, Jobs was only 56 years old. All else being equal he could have lived another 20 years or more. In the 56 years he was here, he was instrumental in the momentum of a technology boom which was unprecedented in the way it changed the lives of everyone in a true and tangible way.

Maybe the real reason for the lump in my throat, was not for the passing of a man I never met, but the reminder that life is short, and that if I want to live up to my potential to change the world, I need to up my game.

Never-the-less for the strength of that reminder I'd like to leave you with this:

Thanks Steve, and here's to the crazy ones...................................

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8rwsuXHA7RA

Spring Cleaning, or not.

I'm having a Spring Clean, though as it's not spring that probably just makes it cleaning.

I sent this blog up nearly three years ago and the last time i posted was about 2 and a half years ago.

I have finally figured out that with all my other commitments, and based on the evidence thus far, I can't maintain posting 800+ words a week.

So this is an Autumnal re-order, here's to shorter, sharper and more frequent posting. Fingers crossed eh folks?