War!

A storm is coming. The traditional men with sticks are about to face the women with pebbles. The traditional Morris Ring have danced while crossing wood in time to their harmonious folk music. And now, as the Morris Men grow old and seek new blood; their counterparts have formed the Morris Federation.  Womenfolk don’t necessarily throw stones but want to be part of the traditional movement; and have formed their own society. And so, now that Morris men are no longer hard core traditional dancers but old men dancing in gaiety, they’re dying out. And the Morris federation wants to give them a run for their money. Is it time that the traditional dancers lowered their sticks? Should traditional values be lowered so that the existence can continue? It’s the epic battle of survival of man versus woman. Stone will beat stick. And of course, hankies will most certainly be waved. 

Time for a re-boot...

Computer trouble strikes this afternoon, as I prepare for an afternoon of getting things done; one of the first things that I do is turn on my password safe. Though lately, the one-click button to get the thing working hasn't been working lately. I then have to go into the virus programme and launch it separately, then close the virus programme. Today however sees the virus program icon loading but no menu screen. A right-click achieves nothing, neither does loading the programme from the start menu. I then start goggling for help, but rather than getting a support page from the company; I'm re-directed to a community page where everyone has had the same problem two years ago. I then re-start the programme and it works fine. As I'm typing this it suddenly occurs to me that all my problems could be solved by re-installing the safe on my browser. Here’s to hoping…

Big Kid

So today I've been told I'm acting like a big kid. And it’s true. I had to go into work early to help get everything for a promotion. We built a gazebo outside the store, and when we’d finished I decided to put balloons outside it. And so as soon as I’d inflatable the balloons and tied them up with string, I skipped outside with them just like a little kid. Then just before lunch I found out that all the annuals were reduced in the sale; so I spent lunch eating Monster Munch and reading the Beano annual. Towards the end of the day I got quite tired; and my colleagues seemed to spot this quite easily. And so right now I'm curled up reading my Beano and wondering if I will ever grow up. Of course I always have the option, but it’s just no fun any more. But then again, no-one wants to come out to play tonight…

Time to go...

In last night’s dream I was looking for an angelic cherub shaped like Stewie’s head from Family Guy. I’m not sure why, it’s probably something to do with falling asleep watching Seth Macfarlane cartoons and reading a Dan Brown book. I was in Rome and I’d checked out the obvious places like the churches and the castle, but hadn't yet checked out the museum. There was a lovely hotel with a cosy bar serving pub grub and good beer. At some point, I was also in an English –style manor garden in a Welsh village waiting for a bus. Travelling is something I’d like to do more but just need to focus on completing my projects. Last night Google Chrome crashed for half an hour and couldn't get it working again. I think it’s time to look at switching browsers again; IE hasn't crashed for a while and loads quite quickly nowadays; hopefully that’ll be OK when all the add-ons are installed too.

Does this fold seem familiar?

While waiting for the bathroom, and, encouraged by yesterday’s success of a paper dog, I decided to pass the time by attempting to make an origami snappy beak. I first had to backtrack to make a diamond base; then backtrack again to make a kite base; but when then was sorted I was ready to move onto step 1. Open bottom base, which I duly did. There then followed an arrow directing me to push it up to the top to make a straight fold without any insides showing. This showed to be quite impossible, and all I was asked to do in step 2 was to look at step 3 for the result. After fifteen minutes the paper duly ended up in the bin and I fear that the rest of the calendar will be heading that way as well. Now I remember why I gave up on the damn thing in the first place.

More tea m'luady?

I’ve just started reading Pride & Prejudice. Once again, this seems to be another upper class love novel where there are rich parties every weekend and the first thing that they learn off another person is their income each year. We again touch on the impracticality of waiting for an introduction so that a call can be made; and then the process must be repeated by the other party so as not to be rude.  I know that someone will be married; probably Mr. Bingley, and that Elizabeth will soon find herself attracted to Mr. Darcy and perhaps even learn his first name. Possibly, as even Mrs. Bennett refers to her husband as Mr. Bennett. At the end of the day there’s no heroic tale here, just ladies gossiping over one another at a tea party over who is proudest and who should be prejudiced. Ms Lucas will just fall over somewhere and end up as a spinster; and someone may drop a teacup or spill a wine glass. What ho.

It's hard to share on-line...

I've been trying to put a new e-book onto my phone this week to continue The Big Read. A while ago, a friend gave me a flash drive full of e-books, and because I've misplaced my list of books to read, I decided to pick out Winnie the Pooh because it was nice and short. I really wanted to read the new Bridget Jones novel; but no-one bought it me for Christmas because I was still reading Dan Brown’s Inferno, which I was quite enjoying until it was pointed out that it’s a cheap way to write about architecture. But because Stanza no longer exists for iOS and iOS and Kobo won’t share the file, I have no choice but to read Jane Austen’s tale of Pride and Prejudice. And so the art of sharing is hard to do in the digital world, so you really do have to smash and grab what you can.

All creased up

The Japanese art of origami is a relaxing technique, and I have an origami calendar to make something each day. There are lots of folds to make with pictures and diagrams, and you use yesterday’s instructions to make today’s model, so but you’re never going to remember how to make each item next time you’re at a dinner party and need to entertain folk. That’s what the internet is for; you can always Google the item on YouTube. The trouble is that I never seem to commit to get the item right. No matter how many folds I make, I've got no idea whether I'm doing each step right or wrong. So how do you know you’re doing it right? Well, this year I’I'm going to try and finish the calendar (even though I didn't clean my teeth at all yesterday). If it’s good, it can sit on the mantelpiece for a day, and if it’s rubbish, it’s going in the bin even quicker.

Sleuthing Around

So after an evening of watching a detective series; I decided to do a little sleuthing of my own. Upon my journey back from the pub last night I noticed a burning smell coming from the back alley of my neighbouring houses. Now, my neighbourhood is quite nice but the homes based on the main road tend to belong to another type of class. And the mystery grows even more with the allotment opposite. Having had a good sniff around, the smell didn't come from the allotments which could not be good in terms of house safety. Once I had sourced the area of the smell; I then had to investigate the house; as all I could see from a distance was a flame in a window. A quick dash round to the front of the house proved that there was only a light on and a window open; so there was no evidence of anyone monitoring the situation. My only course of action was therefore to pop back round to the back and try the handle of the gate. Amazingly, it was unlocked; and the source of the burning turned out to be a dying chimera. But it’s actually amazing how many of my neighbours actually relax their access to their backyards.

Dental Resolutions

I find it odd that, considering the amount of time invested in maintaining my chompers, I'm constantly being told by my dentist that I need them professionally cleaned. I currently spend two minutes a day brushing; and while I know it should be four, I know that I simply do not have the time. Statistically, we are supposed to spend a whole day of each year brushing our teeth. Probably more if you need time to put toothpaste onto your brush. But far from spending a whole day over the sink in order to reach pristine condition (and thus having the worst kept mouth on New Year’s Eve; no-one would kiss you); I'm still told that I need to catch up by seeing the dental hygienist. Not this year. I'm now going to put in the other half day to save myself twenty-five quid. And I’ll even floss if I have to.

A repetitive task

There is a task that I do every day to try and tidy myself up. A task that, if I don’t complete it, I'm bound to suffer for it the day after. A task that I fail to get right every single day, no matter how hard I try. It’s trimming the hedge. It’s mowing the lawn. Off my face. Every. Single. Day. And it has to be done by hand. I've tried the good old electric razor but I might as well rub sandpaper all over my face. Nothing gets the job done like the good old blade and foam. But relying on other methods just won’t work. They’re expensive and you've got to find them or at least work out when they’re available. So in the end you just have to do it yourself. But how long can you keep doing it? How long can you keep going before you have to seek out that extra bit of help?

The detail is in the devil

So yesterday I spent nine minutes watching an accident investigator discuss as to why Michael Schumacher had an accident on his skis. The equipment had been examined. The footage had been analysed. But as to why we need to have such detail looked at I have no idea. The news channel hung onto every word of what the investigator announced regarding the crash. Flooding stopped. The stock market ceased to a halt. Crime ceased to exist. And all because a famous rich man decided to go off-course (or off-piste if you want to be anal and alienate everyone) and fall over. Sure, I feel for the guy in that he’s hurt himself, but do we really need this level of detail? Can’t we just rule that he’s a clumsy oaf or he had a whoopsie daisy to demonstrate that he’s human like everyone else? Are they concerned that he’s going to wake up and think; ‘I will now sue the French government for allowing that rock to be there’. Perhaps they thought that the Italians might have laid a trip wire for him when he wasn't looking. 

Post Complete! Level Up!

One of the many distractions with computers is that of on-line gaming. Despite my best intentions of getting tasks done, there’s always that Facebook request that needs to be dealt with or that little man that must reach the other side of the screen. And it’s tantalising. You know it’s only a case of pressing the correct combination of keys at the right moment to make him leap that moving obstacle. And you know it’s just a crap unrealistic game that’s got no sense of how this situation would occur in real life and is just going to say well done at the very end of it, without even a secret video to watch. But completing it is a sense of achievement. And that’s what’s missing off real life. You have to give yourself a mental well done once you've finished the washing-up because no-one else is going to do it; they’re just going to moan that it hasn't been done.  Anyway, well done for reading this post.

Council needs to make a Splash

So it’s the first working week of January and everyone’s put themselves into a strict diet for the year. That means that we all have to work extra hard at whatever resolution we’ve decided to put ourselves through. Unfortunately, for me that means more people in the pool. All the pro swimmers have decided to come out of the lanes because they have more room to overtake everyone else; which leaves less room for me to do dives. Plus they haven’t grasped the fact that there may be someone in their way right behind them. There’s a continuing dislike towards the lane system as everyone swims at different speeds and no-one really wants to do the good thing by switching lanes. So we’re now left with an overcrowded pool while our population grows with no resources to extend or improve the existing facilities. Kudos to the council for not predicting growth in the use of their services.

The lunatics have the Asylum

More cutbacks. Less competent people available to help which means I am running round like a headless chicken trying to ensure that everyone has a chance of knowing what they are doing. Meanwhile, the leaders are in their lair trying to plot the actions of the next two weeks; little knowing that they have no idea of what is actually happening outside of their door. The stupid people are getting stupider and lazier, thinking that I can magic their problems out of thin air while they just sit and play with their mobile phones. I’m sick of this. I need out. I need an occupation with limits that I can control rather than to live up to the expectation of others. I need my ideas listened to and acted on to improve the situation rather than to be shelved and to be told to wait what’s around the corner. And I need a better income too…

The Science of Deduction

I’m quite enjoying Steven Moffat’s revitalisation of Sherlock at the moment. It’s a twentieth century tale of the world’s greatest detective; together with terrorists, kidnappings and forensics galore. It’s amazing that Sherlock is back from the dead and that Sherlock is always able to create a plan out of anything; but it’s suddenly revealed that he’s only part of a team that makes his actions happen. The genuine genius of Cumberbatch means that he gets to be a complete arse without having to explain anything to anyone. But it’s a shame that there only seems to be three feature-length episodes; surely it would be better to make it a full series. But surely it’s now going to be difficult to introduce a new villain to the series now that Jim Moriati is dead. Unless Holmes’s brother turns evil; or perhaps Moriati has cloned himself or has made a back-up plan, much like Jigsaw from Saw. That would be simply brilliant. 

Dreaming of...a forced eviction?

I’ve had another strange dream where I’m preparing to leave home; still accompanied by both parents; without being given any notice. I’m given just two days to prepare; both days are work days so I don’t have any time to prepare for the move.  I have no knowledge of the new property other than it’s not possible to keep two vehicles on the drive; although consciously I did ask if there were room for three cars for some reason. I have to source my own boxes and am given a deadline of when everything needs to be parcelled up by; and this is a real deadline set by the estate agent. I’m told that anything I don’t pack up will be boxed up for me by a work colleague; but then I lose track of where everything is (as if I do already; I was sure yesterday that I had extra razors).

I'm back baby!

Happy new year! Last night was spent down at the Victoria Works drinking some good beer (though I stayed off the dark ones), and even though I didn’t turn in until around 4am, I still didn’t end up with a hazy head. It was a good time munching though the last of the Christmas cheese, and even though we didn’t see much of the band or discover who actually won the picture quiz, it was still a very entertaining night. We even had some fireworks courtesy of the local social club round the corner; we just needed to gather in the pub’s car park. Today was spent watching classic telly while doing my usual monthly updates; while waiting for my slothy friend to stir out of the guest room. So it’s 2014 and it’s time to get serious. I’ve spend quite a bit of last year lounging around trying to make sense of things happening and generally things haven’t been moving forward. And that needs to change.