If you could redesign this website, what would you change?
Year: 2004
bookmark_borderA boy and his addendum
Mumsie sent an email with a few (factual) corrections to my 1000 Words entry – A Boy and His Dog.
Just love your words to go with the picture of you and Sintra. Needed a tissue – so glad to know she meant as much to you as she did to us. The bridge is on the approaches to Lindisfarne on the Holy Isle in Nothumberland. Must go back some day and see if it’s still there!
P.S. Just for the record – we got Sintra before you were born, Sintra is a district of Lisbon – the ‘old town’, and it was Uncle Bill who took and developed the photo in his darkroom in Doveholm.
So I was right that it was Uncle Bill who took the picture and I’ve now got a whole load of exciting memories of his dark room and all that camera equipment (a mysterious place to a young child). I also kind of knew that the picture was taken near the sea but thought it was during a trip to Tongue, oh well, only a few (hundred) miles out!
She closes her email with the following: “Time you thought about writing your book – you know the one we all have inside us?”
Nothing like a bit of maternal peer pressure is there!! 😉
bookmark_borderIf… Then… Else…
Every now and then I get to this stage. I’ve got several priority ‘things’ (all from different sources, some professional, some not) and they are all fighting for space in my head. There is stuff I need to think about at home, stuff I need to think about for work, even stuff I WANT to think about for work (new stuff, much more exciting than the usual mundane drudgery). Technical stuff, ethical stuff, practical stuff, emotional stuff. Stuff, stuff, stuff.
I’ve tried writing lists, hoping it would help get things organised, but after a little thought I promptly realised that ‘several’ really means ‘greater than thirty’ which just adds more stuff to my head that I hadn’t previously thought about and doesn’t really help matters.
So how come I can’t get around to starting even one of them?
What I need is a team of monkeys, so I can delegate the research part involved in most of the ‘things’… ideas man, that’s me.
Oi!
Who said “Lazy bugger more like..”, I HEARD THAT!
BTW – one of the ‘things’ is wondering if I could reverse engineer After Dark – remember… flying toasters… anyone? hello??
bookmark_borderFlying rats
A random thought has, for no apparent reason, just popped back into my head (although between you and me, I trust my subconscious about as far as I could move it using telekinesis).
Has anyone charted the prosperity (wealth) of a town/city against the estimated population of pigeons in the area?
Presumably the town must be able to sustain the numbers of flying rats, typically through all the edible rubbish lying around. The higher the number of pigeons, the higher the number of people needed to generate the food source, the higher the number of people the higher the revenue they generate… see… it actually makes sense.
Sort of.
Well it does when you should’ve gone to bed about 2 hours ago.
I’m going to regret reading this in the morning, aren’t I. On second thoughts, don’t answer that.
bookmark_borderA boy and his dog
I mentioned the 1000 words project a while back. November last year I think… may December.
Anyhoo, I finally got my ass into gear, scanned in one scratchy photo, and knocked together some thoughts. You can see the results at: A Picture’s Worth – essays on photographs of personal significance.
bookmark_borderPerchance to dream
Friday night. Louise was at a friend’s house for a Sex and the City party (Cosmopolitans, shrieking woman, tears, hankies… you know the drill). Afterwards they went out and I got phoned at around 2 a.m. to go and pick her up*. We get home around 3 a.m. I get to sleep sometime after 3.42 a.m.
Saturday. Up at 8.45 a.m. Things to do. Things to do.
Saturday night. Louise’s cousin’s 40th. 100 people in 70s outfits. Cheap booze (8 vodkas, 2 gins, 1 white wine, 2 breezers + mixers = £21), halls shuts at midnight so we adjourn to the private bar downstairs. Leave there at 2 a.m. and head back to the birthday boy’s house. Get back to my Mum’s, where we are staying, at 4 a.m. Get to sleep sometime after 4.28 a.m.
Sunday morning. Mother’s Day. Better get up (9.30 a.m.) ohhh head doesn’t like that too much. Decide to take Mum out. Take Gran out with us too. Coffee, wander round garden centre. Beginning to flag. Home. Lounge on sofa until 9 p.m. Eyes closing rapidly. In bed. Toss and turn. Decide to read a little. Get to sleep sometime after 2 a.m.
Monday morning. Alarm. 6.50 a.m. Fuck.