I sat down at the desk in the junk room to write a blog post an hour ago. All I have done so far is listen to music on Spotify. Music from my distant past. While writing this, Wilson Phillips are singing "Hold On", and I'm remembering drawing a picture of them in the back of my college art sketchbook.
It's lunchtime at work, and I'm forcing myself to take a break. On a given day I sit here for hours - sometimes not leaving the chair all day, and then wondering why my legs are stiff when I get up to go home. Of course I cycle to work, so I'm not completely unfit, but I really should do something more. Years ago, I used to go running a couple of times a week - maybe I should try and make time for it once more. It's all about forming habits really - getting into a routine.
After a day spent fighting virtual fires within the software leviathan I have been constructing for the last six months, I'm now sitting in the garden, slowly feeding kindling into a chiminea, gazing into altogether more real flickering flames.There's something about tending an open fire. I'm not sure if it's the smell of wood smoke,… Continue reading The Dying of the Light
I seem to have fallen off the "post every day" horse quite spectacularly in recent weeks. I'm thinking this is a good thing. I know one or two people look out for my posts, and that's all sorts of wonderful, but if I have little to report, it always seems a bit forced.I was going… Continue reading Struggling
I bought a music magazine this morning for the first time in years. I was wandering around the local stationery shop with Miss 13 - who had some money burning a hole in her pocket - and happened upon the magazine rack. While half-keeping an eye on her, I started flicking through the various magazines… Continue reading Nimrod
It's Friday night. I'm on my second glass of wine, and I have the prospect of a week off stretched ahead of me like a glorious savannah full of possibilities. Of course we know that by Tuesday I'll be writing a bitter account of cutting the lawn, the privet hedge, and making numerous trips to… Continue reading Making Friends
I’ve been home alone today for the most part - plodding on with the endless routine of chores and tasks that come with a family and a house. I was supposed to attend a football tournament with the rest of the family, but given yesterday’s drama (including a midnight visit to the railway station to… Continue reading Sunday at Home
How do I describe the events of yesterday ?The Charles Dickens line “it was the best of times, and the worst of times” comes to mind.We attended the wedding of a co-worker yesterday evening - joining him for the evening celebration. Along with some good friends, we put our glad-rags on, hired a taxi, and… Continue reading Love and Betrayal
A few years ago I watched a wonderful movie called "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel", about a young Indian man with a dream to run his own hotel. In the middle of juggling one disaster after another, he told a resident the following:"Everything will be alright in the end. If it is not alright, it… Continue reading Perhaps Not The End