Friday, 24 October 2008
Email Bloomers
When enabled, Mail Goggles kicks in at a time specified by you and says, “It’s that time of day. Are you sure you want to send this?” It then tries to ascertain if you’re drunk by asking five maths on the screen which you have to answer in a limited time. If you can’t, it presumes you’re pissed and suggests that you send it the next day when you’ve had time to consider the matter.
The writers of the piece were unable to test this out as all of their staff were sober, but many said they wished it had been invented earlier to prevent previous bloomers.
It seems an excellent idea to me. I’ve never actually sent embarrassing emails when drunk as I can’t type after a glass of wine. I have, however, sent them when in a hurry and sober which is infinitely more embarrassing, as I have no excuse.
It made me think, wouldn’t it be lovely if we could apply this facility to our brains, so when we’ve worried something to death, a message would come up saying, “Enough - I’m sick of this. Can you think about something else, please?”
P. S. To activate Mail Goggles, go into Gmail's settings, and turn on Mail Goggles in the "Labs" tab. Then adjust how and when it works in the "General" tab.
Tuesday, 21 October 2008
Another Swansong and Meme
So as the second swansong, here is a meme from Pat and ChrisH as well
The winners of this award have to answer these questions, in one word per question.... so here we go:
1. Where is your cell phone? Kitchen
2. Where is your significant other? Jazz-ing
3. Your hair color? Brown
4. Your mother? Devon
5. Your father? Heaven
6. Your favorite thing? Love
7. Your dream last night? Confused
8. Your dream/goal? Published
9. The room you're in? Bedroom
10. Your hobby? Walking
11. Your fear? Loss
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Here
13. Where were you last night? Home
14. What you're not? Sane
15. One of your wish-list items? Younger
16. Where you grew up? Devon
17. The last thing you did? Drink
18. What are you wearing? Jeans
19. Your TV? Off
20. Your pets? Sleeping
21. Your computer? On
22. Your mood? Steady
23. Missing someone? Always
24. Your car? Parked
25. Something you're not wearing? Socks
26. Favorite store? Zilch
27. Your summer? Mixed
28. Love someone? Yes.
29. Your favorite color? Autumnal
30. When is the last time you laughed? Today
31. Last time you cried? Yesterday
Instead of passing this meme on, as I have a deadline and should be finishing a piece on teapots, please pick this up and run with it if you like it!
Friday, 17 October 2008
A Swansong
New computer arrives on Monday - I hope - so normal service will resume next week. So while I'm not able to blog or read your blogs for a few days, I will be back soon.
Meanwhile, I'm frantically trying to finish a piece on a nearby animal rescue centre before the pc crashes again.... I was in tears most of yesterday transcribing the tape and now writing it, the floodgates are opening yet again.
I will leave you with a joke which has enlightened my week.
A 3-year-old boy examined his testicles while taking a bath.
'Mom', he asked, 'Are these my brains?'
'Not yet,' she replied.
Have a good weekend!
PS Computer not arrived yet - am hanging on by fingernails and hoping this will see me through the last deadline!
Tuesday, 14 October 2008
A Philosophical Post - or how to deal with Menopausal Wobbles
We had some of the best weather for our long weekend that we’ve had all summer, and it was lovely to have time with Mum and Moll – 3 girls together. I also had time to see a few friends without having to worry about Himself, who was on his Boat Hunt.
But in amongst all this crept my old fear about losing those I am closest to. My mother is incredibly fit and sprightly (mentally and physically) and doesn’t even wear glasses (groan from her daughter who has been myopic since the age of 13). She is always interested in everything and everyone and has a huge army of friends – understandably. At 79, she is also still extremely attractive.
Himself is doing well, his cancer is under control and despite having days when the medication makes him feel exhausted, as well as general ageing, he is feeling well. He plays the cornet still, has resumed his love affair with boats and still thinks about his wife and dog now and then. (A bit more than that to be honest.)
That I should chose a long weekend to delve into mortality is unfortunate but probably because I wasn’t working so had more time to think about it. Anyway, it kept me awake in the small hours, terrified of this huge void called death.
Ageing is no bundle of laughs. And being married to someone 18 years older, I am more aware than some of the frustrations that this can bring. The body’s gradual refusal to do things we could once do easily. But there’s nothing we can do about it, and it is completely natural. It's part of the ongoing process of life. Look at nature - the tumbling, flame coloured leaves of autumn. Crackly winter frosts. The emerald vibrancy of spring. Life goes on.
Luckily I saw a wise friend who knows me very well. When I was a child, she said, I thought that when you died you lay down in a lovely wood on a blanket of leaves and went to sleep. Death is not a void – it’s something peaceful and part of nature. Part of life.
Seeing my worries, she said you must face your fears, not hide from them. You should have a plan, she said. Write it down, then put it to one side - don't dwell on it, but make the most of the time you have. Enjoy your time with your nearest and dearests. Enjoy life but be prepared.
One of the worst things about losing those we love is being left behind. And yet, as my friend said, we only lose their physical presence. We have albums in our heads full of memories, and it is these that we can remember and play over and over again. And we are not alone. Most of us are fortunate enough to have friends and/or family. We have animals and other responsibilities. We have work. We have hobbies that soothe or distract or invigorate us. We meet new friends, lovers, animals, and these don’t replace the old ones but add to our army of supporters. We can learn new things and this adds to our wisdom and enjoyment of life.
I talked to Himself and he said that we need stamina and courage to face our difficulties. I also think we need to know that we are stronger than we might believe. Particularly if you are in the midst of a menopausal wobble, as I was. As Julie Andrews sang: “All I trust I lead my heart to, All I trust becomes my own. I have confidence in confidence alone. Besides which you see I have confidence in me!”
After that musical outburst, the other thing my friend said was, “You’re not alone. But you must believe in something.”
What, I thought? I was brought up C of E but lost faith in God, or perhaps I never quite had it. As a teenager I was unhappy and developed anorexia, then lost several people who meant a lot to me, then my dad died. Perhaps He was looking after me anyway, but I was angry and turned away, felt bitterly let down. Now a part of me would like to believe but doesn’t quite know how. Or what.
But thinking about what my friend said, I wondered - what do I believe in? Friends. Love. Determination. Perseverance. Caring. Justice – but I don’t mean the legal system. I mean a sense of fairness in life that might not be obvious but usually works out in some odd way. Lots of other things, too. Laughter, fun, enjoyment. Helping others, and being helped in return. A good cry with friends. Cuddles. Sunny walks with Moll. The lovely stretched way I feel after yoga. The sense of peace following meditation. The joy of having a good sing.
As a writer I have to be sensitive enough to write about emotions so that others can understand and empathise with them. But I must be tough enough to deal with the multitude of rejections and disappointments that come across a writer’s path. So this made me realise that I believe very strongly in the subconscious.
Not that I really know what that entails, but I do know that while it might contain memories of old fears and worries, it also stores up joys and treasures. Furthermore, it enables me to write. It spurs me to write. Sometimes phrases tap out of my keyboard and I wonder where they came from. I read them and cry, or laugh, and think, did I write that? Perhaps God is in my keyboard, or my subconscious?
This reminds me of the lovely fellow I met when out walking with Moll. Gabriel Fry he was called. A solid fellow with a wonderfully broad smile, intelligent eyes that missed nothing. If my subconscious could be a person it would be him. Full of rich secrets, fun and laughter. An instant supporter who trusted me, laughed with me as if we'd known each other all our lives. Perhaps we had.
Wednesday, 8 October 2008
A Lost Husband
Anyway, this afternoon Moll and I did one of our favourite walks and Himself had a quick half in the pub while waiting for us - and we usually meet him there. We got to the pub - no husband. I retraced my steps - no sign of him. Back to the pub. No sign. Saw the van, couldnt get in. No mobile, no money, bag in van, no keys. Swore. Appealed to Molls who grinned and wagged her tail and said, "I dunno Mum," or something similar.
We repeated the above exercise with me trying not to get increasingly frantic. Himself is not a walker, you see. He grudgingly comes on the short walk with Moll in the morning and That's It. Added to which he was off to do a job at 5pm and this was 4.15pm. I'd last seen him at 2.45.
One last time I went back asking everyone en route. By this time I was convinced he'd fallen into a ditch, broken a leg, had a heart attack - you know the kind of thing. I called an d called him, panic rising in my chest as I ran along the path, legs wobbly with fear.
And just as I asked yet another couple if they'd seen someone matching his description, there he was lolloping along the beach. I fell into his arms, weeping and swearing, "Where have you BEEN?"
As we walked back to the van he said he'd walked as far as the second field and waited for me, thought I was talking to someone, as I sometimes do. No comment.
"Anyway," he said. "Tomorrow and Friday you won't know where I am. I could be in a Laptop Club."
So That's what those dancers do......
Monday, 6 October 2008
An eventful weekend
Poor Mollie had another terrible outbreak of itching on Friday which resulted in yet another trip to the vet, antibiotics, Piriton and a steroid spray as well as increasing her steroids. We were so desperate at the time that we didn’t question this dosage as perhaps we should have done, so having rung the vet this morning we've cut down her dosage and hope the spray will help. Poor girl, she's had a really bad few months and there doesn't seem to be an end in sight. But she's such a cheerful soul and we love her for that.
Notwithstanding that, Moll and I set off to pick up a friend on Saturday to do the Mevagissey Treasure Trail for Cornwall Today. As we neared Mevagissey, the clouds gathered and by the time we arrived we were wading through steady drizzle and a gathering wind, but we completed the trail, had a fascinating trip round the town and felt we deserved an award for stoicism and determination - Moll included.
The rain finally stopped late Sunday morning and we had a wonderful walk with my Swedish friend around Rosemullion Head. As apparently this was to be the only good day of the week, I’m glad we made the most of it as today is back to normal grey drizzle.
I’ve recently been told about a website run by Harper Collins which is for avid readers and budding novelists. The idea is that you can upload your novel – or part of it – and while reading others’ novels, they can comment on yours. If you’re very lucky your novel might land on the desk of an editor, but the site is regularly perused by agents and editors.
I thought it was worth a go, so please have a look at my first three chapters, if you feel so inclined, and let me know how I might improve them – here
You need to scroll down until you see The Current Beneath by Sam Kittow (pseudonym)
We’re off on Thursday for a few days in
Thursday, 2 October 2008
A Great Idea
Nexus is not a dating agency but a means of meeting other unattached people. As Barbara explains, “If you’re lonely, you’ll find that people are not going to beat a path to your door,” she says. “You just have to get out and meet people. NO one can change your life but you.” And that is what Nexus does – provide an opportunity to do just that.
Nexus was devised by an Australian civil engineer who found it difficult to meet people in the early 1970s. He heard of a system in Japan where people could phone a number and listen to recorded messages. If they liked the sound of the person, they could contact them.
So Nexus was founded on that idea and a similar service set up in the UK. Barbara and Peter advertised and were inundated with calls. Within this service came Icebreakers, which is a listing of members’ ads with a first name and phone number, released every month.
Then Skills Bank was started by a member who wanted to help people with business skills in exchange for practical help. The Leisure Interest directory came next, categorising members by their interests, and the Bulletin tells Nexus members what’s going on in their area.
As a result of all this communication and contact, members form a community and help each other. Not just that, but they tend to keep their membership long after they have found a partner.
“It becomes a way of life,” says Barbara. “It gives people a family outside their family.”
It seems strange that nowadays there are more forms of communication than ever, yet it is ever easier to avoid talking to people, so communication skills are dying.
Perhaps we should all re-learn the art of listening. Of having time for each other; of caring. Taking the time to stop. Grabbing those moments of happiness, and sticking them in our mental scrapbook, to be taken out and treasured.
With so many of us scattered all over the country, if not the world, Nexus sounds like a wonderful idea.
www.nexus-uk.co.uk
or ring 01237 471704
And just to lower the tone completely, Himself has suggested calling the van the Bonkmobile....
