Ruby dog

If you're not following me on App.net you're missing out on the occasional post about Ruby – our dog.

Ruby's lovely. Approaching her first birthday, as she's grown she's lost none of her puppy enthusiasm; as she's become more accustomed to our commands, we've tempered none of that quivering anticipation of awesome things about to happen.

Here's a flavour of her impact on our lives, just my posts:

Planning required:

"@pme Aren't the little buggers great? A good thing it's nothing like Ruby 'Chomp-all' Dog. The rest of my family hadn't quite understood the importance of putting things away. But there is an expectation that adults can put stuff in a safe place, right?"

Not quite according to plan:

"@indigo @rabryst I made sure that, if my wife was going to get a dog, said dog would be hypoallergenic, smart, and would not shed fur. Ruby has not let us down once, she's awesome. A mutant compared to all the others round here, but awesome. :)"

Conflict:

“@matigo The cat woke me, I went downstairs to feed him and his sister – and Ruby dog – only to find she'd emptied out the contents of a box all over the living room floor. Hairbrushes, broken crayons, spectacles, pencils, paper, card, sticky tape, lipgloss…

… a plastic troll too! All chewed, damp. :/

My wife can sort it out when she comes home from work; she's the one who leaves stuff out, allows the girls to, then complains when the dog chews.

Yeah, I just threw it all back in & stomped upstairs. :/"

Striving for an uncomplicated existence:

"@hazardwarning @hutattedonmyarm I didn't go looking deeper, Ruby dog wanted me to play with her ball. Simple things… :)"

And, this self-referential #QuoteSunday post:

'"Ruby dog, GET OFF MY PENIS!!!"*

  • @bazbt3

Slightly* disconcerting #QuoteSunday quote.

*I mentioned my hedonistic lifestyle earlier in the evening, never thinking it'd come to this!'

True joy arrives unbidden in life, often unexpectedly, and in many different forms. Whilst bent over cleaning the cats' litter tray, wearing a gaping dressing gown with the dog nuzzling one's man-bits, trying to not startle Ruby 'Chomp-all' Turner though‽

Yeah, why not.


FYI: I am @bazbt3 on App.net.

Sock monster

My youngest daughter is a Ladybird (a member of the local Rainbows – pre-Brownies.) Every week her mummy takes her down to the church hall, she participates, and then I collect her at the end of the session.

Just like did with her sister, now a Brownie.

She's usually made something, like a hat or a hanging thing, or a paper plate with paper poppies stuck around its periphery – for Remembrance Sunday.

This evening the things on the table at the end of the room defied my attempts to categorise. Unusual.

The leaders explained, for the benefit of the more dim-witted parents, what they were.

Sock monsters!

Not one alike, each the product of a child's imagination, all amazing.

Ah, but glittery glue. Lots of it.

It gets everywhere, no matter how carefully it's applied. I hate slimy sticky viscous things. But the inevitable beckoned so I picked the thing up, and immediately an antenna dropped.

Oops! I never was the most graceful individual. Clumsy, though age is improving me.

I was more circumspect when we left for the car park, not trusting my littlest offspring with the task of moving the monster from hall to car.

Me: "Er… can you please reach into my trouser pocket and get my car keys?"

We chose a safe spot on the back seat for the glue and sock, and waited for her big sister to finish Brownies.

All the while I gave a running commentary, ostensibly for my daughter's benefit but a safety blanket for me. The pressure inherent in such situations is probably beyond the understanding of a non-parent. I'm sure it would have amused any adult within earshot.

We always chat about stuff during lulls between life and life, my daughter's and I. Stars & planets, cars, condensation, school lunches and their friends and creations. Today not much chat, aside from a few words about her new thing. It's got rice and lavender inside it and smells lovely. We'd best not let Ruby dog anywhere near lest…

Daughter 1 emerged a few minutes later, we buckled up and drove home.

Home, tea, change, ready for bed, tidy, teeth, night-night…

Though I know she wants to take it to school tomorrow, I'd forgotten if she'd told me the most important thing, so I just woke daughter 2 to ask her what the sock monster is called.

A frown, obviously. "I haven't named it."

And that was that.

Todo list

Where do I start?

Perhaps I need a list for that.

I’ve had list managers, todo managers, GTD task managers and have even flirted with full-blown project management software. In all-but-one case I’ve eventually and habitually snoozed, or edited-to-postpone, tasks.

That one piece of software: Omnifocus for iOS.

I slated its developers for a bug-ridden update after the transition from iOS 6 to iOS 7. Every piece of useful software eventually breaks, but…

On Android now after a sidestep to Windows Phone, I must say I miss Omnifocus with its rich feature set and calendar integration.

Thats my personal productivity mentioned, there’s something important to note…

I use no productivity software at work.

I have a yellow Sigel Conceptum A5 squared notepad in which I write important things using a Fisher Space Pen. But the writing thing and the thing on which I write aren’t that important; what I write is.

I have a system.

From the top:

  • The year,
  • Week number, month, date,
  • Date entry with date.

Entry, left to right:

  • Priority: only a ‘!’ – used sparingly.
  • An arrow-of-sorts indicating moved from a previous day.
  • A checkbox, triangle or ‘clock’ indicating respectively: todo, done; a required change; or a time function such as late for work, a vacation/holiday.
  • A descriptive line indicating what I must do, who asked me, and job/task reference numbers.

I recently started allowing entries to span lines. It took 5 months; I was afraid of compromises, dilution of effect.


2016
January
Week 2

18 Mon
------
 ↪[ ] Tidy desk
  [✔] SolidWorks Vault deletions
  [ ] Catch up with previous tasks
! 🔺  Change (size on component)
  🕒  Sick: 11:35-


I’ve been using this system since June 2015; it’s a keeper!

Status

A recent all-too-brief conversation prompted me to think about what defines the success of a social network.

In my world it’s not about the numbers of users, nor is it the number of followers, nor is it measured by the number of visits, replies, mentions or comments on linked posts.

Here’s my list:

  • Engagement,
  • Quality,
  • Fun.

And here, better than I could ever put into words in any coherent way and manner approaching brevity, is a diagram of the inner workings of my mind.

Beans

The story of Jack and the Beanstalk encompasses a great many moral lessons, chief of which is planting magic beans isn't always the easiest path to riches.

I've lost count of the number of magic beans I planted over the years, but there the similarity to the fairy (or is it folk?) story's eponymous protagonist ends; I'm not a thief or murderer.

I've felt like turning to the dark side a good few times when my plans have come to naught, but this sense of morality always intrudes.

Maybe it's a good thing.

I'm occasionally advised to play the long game; to be patient and realise 'these things [actually do] take time.'

I'm reminded of Isaac Asimov's 'Nightfall' – and what might happen were I to see the fruits of my labours spread out before me, their collective greatness too awful for mortal man to behold unfiltered.

So-ooo…

What will the UK retirement age be for a man of my years?

Holidays

"I don't want to holiday in the sun

I want to go to the new Belsen

I want to see some history

'Cause now I got a reasonable economy"

So sang the Sex Pistols, on a record released during my 13th year on this planet. I'll be honest though, I just wasn't old enough to 'get' Punk Rock. That said, 'Never Mind The Bollocks' became one of my most favourite, most played albums…

I inherited a desire to explore from my parents. Not the 'grand' pith-helmet type of exploration, not the canoe up the Amazon type nor the temples and ancient artifacts variant of open-seas pirates, no.

A desire to not go on holiday, laze about all day, get a lobster tan and return home after a conventional 2 weeks, extolling the virtues of the local beers and stinky sausages, and appearing from the holiday snaps to have enjoyed every minute.

My only pool/seaside holiday was my honeymoon; but that's a tale for another time.

Until 1992 we as a family had never left the United Kingdom, not even the mainland – apart from the flight to The Isle of Man for an, er… regulation 2 week annual holiday. We always found something to do. Always.

My dad passed away first, sadly (from my perspective at least) without a repeat flight. By the time mum left us we'd still been abroad only twice; coach tours to first West coast USA then, the following year, East coast USA & Canada. Fan-with-a-capital-effing-an-tastic!

Friends asked if I'd like to go on an Egyptian your; you know, THE Pyramids, cruise down THE River Nile, Karnak, balloon flight… Egypt is an amazing country – and one I hope to return to one day with my family.

One day, one day…

That same year, a USA tour from Washington DC through the South and departing from Dallas TX. The year after that another USA tour, this starting in Denver CO, south through the American Rockies into New Mexico then West, departing from Phoenix AZ.

A couple of years later, with a mate and feeling a little more confident, a week's American Football tour around Ohio; my first, and so-far only fly-drive holiday. Football, beer, noise and driving on the wrong side of the road just because we could. Bloody great!

A year later, with my wife-to-be, a very special Egyptian tour. This time I did not escape the Pharoahs' curse; the Siwa oasis hotel's on-entry-room-smells-of-poo experience simply has to be experienced. And I did. For the next week-and-a-half.

Then we took three cheap mini-cruises; overnight ferry, day in a European city, ferry overnight back home.

Tours hand it, whatever it is, to the tourist on a plate. All the lazy traveller must do in return is not antagonise one's fellow travellers.

Easy.

After all that, to mention I'd never visited my own country's capital city (2 hours by train) until October last year might appear a little odd.

Bowie

David Bowie is no longer with us.

Astronaut Chris Hadfield posted a fitting tweet, and here's his quote from the BBC's reaction page:

"I was so sad to wake up this morning to the news … The whole span of my adult life I've been listening to David Bowie so it is an irretrievable loss. It saddens me. I'm just delighted I got to play a little part in everything he's done."

I felt the same way, though it's easy to say it now. I will admit to owning only a small part of his catalogue, and playing even that infrequently; but…

Thanks for the music, the memories.

Here's Chris's Space Oddity video, and David's.

Workflow

Here’s a screenshot of a mind map of my current blog posting workflow:

It’s in need of a little automation and, to that end, I’m investigating what I can do on my Android phone.

Oh how I miss iOS’s Editorial and Launch Center Pro and URL schemes and…


Post inspired by @manton’s App.net posting.

Reverie

I'm simply not going to list the deaths of well-known individuals during 2015/early 2016. Each has a place in my past, however small that place is. I have no doubt that all have enriched my life by some variable, though small, amount…

I led a happy childhood; not the rose-tinted view of a time ripe to be torn asunder upon discovering a dark secret much later in life, but a genuinely carefree time.

Allowed to play out; free rein to go as far as my and my childhood friends' imaginations would allow us, we had it all. My parents, both working class (not that it matters), made sure I always had enough to occupy me and that I was safe…

There's no doubt it was a different age.

The television then wasn't by any means new, but I remember our black-and-white set and the occasional moiré pattern leading me to think colour was, impossible as it sounds, just about to break through!

It never did.

The number of TV channels wouldn't have retained a modern consumer's attention for more than a few minutes. Throughout the entirety of my childhood we had three (3) channels to choose from! My parents picked our programming wisely, using the Radio Times & radio guide extensively.

There are too many things to list, but a brief conversation earlier reminded me of the magic of 1970s TV. Of particular significance, though I wouldn't expect many to understand why-for-me the unmasking of professional wrestler 'Kendo Nagasaki'; an amazing bit of television unlikely to be repeated today.

To fill the entertainment void between TV programmes and living our lives we listened to the radio; music, lots of it, and BBC Radio 4 for talk, news and of course drama.

We had a record player with a storage capacity of, er… ok, capable of playing 78s, 45s and 33-1/3 vinyl records. Amazing sounds from a black plastic disc, and especially the rich, unsurpassable bass and frequency range when played on my Auntie & Uncle's 'Radiogram'; from-memory almost identical to the one at the top of this 'Radiogram Days' page.

Incidentally, rather than me telling you what my parents and I listened to, just take a look at that page. It sums up the era perfectly.

Ok, to give you a clue, my parents had me later in life than the average. I listened to a vast range of music, first theirs and gradually as my tastes developed…

A range spanning my Dad's jazz to songs from the shows, rock & roll, classical to avant-garde, through the big band sounds to American easy-listening to…

Ok, given a huge range of influences I chose as my first single…

Elvis Presley's 'Suspicion' – I suspect because, faced by the unaccustomed freedom and the choice in the shop, I simply couldn't decide.

But then my teenage years arrived and with them the train-wreck of inevitability. Of course I stepped away from the earlier path set up by my mum and dad. Had to; to establish my sense of 'self', or something.

Music became an important part of my life. Unfortunately the path I chose through its many genres, styles, influences, wasn't the same as my mates, colleagues, family. No matter, it helped my sense of identity grow.

Yes, I was a bargain hunter, regularly rummaging in Woolworths' wire baskets to find the stuff no-one else wanted.

Earlier this evening, a little while before my Bluetooth headphones' charge finally ran out, I was at a loose end and searching for something 'different' to listen to.

Looking through the albums I'd queued up on Amazon Prime Music, Isao Tomita's Snowflakes Are Dancing stood out as something I'd grabbed to stream eventually, but at the right time. It's an album of Claude Debussy's music, Tomita's being a 1974 electronic variant – and one I remember listening to as a child, bought by my uncle when still brand-new.

It's one that captivates me still.

So why now?

As I mentioned earlier, it's the right season to reminisce; and though year-ends usually bring out the strongest emotions, this music has opened up a good-few links back to my dim-and-distant past.

Its all good; it made me who, and what, I am.

To everyone who contributed to the making of this blog post: thanks!