Toys in the attic

In which I find a treasure trove of Lego and wooden trains.

The advantage of living in a house is that I now own an attic. I had to find out if I have a loft or an attic, apparently a loft is an open area, and an attic is enclosed and generally not inhabitable. As it requires the use of two lengths of ladder, squeezing through the hatch, and then dodging all the roof beams I am fairly sure we have an attic.

What is pretty clear are the uses most people have for this roof space. It becomes a general dumping ground for all the pieces of your life that you know you should through but don’t have the heart to get rid of. There may be a twelve key Casio keyboard with 12 beat settings but what if I need to play Ode to Joy to someone, and you never know when you’ll need an old (but broken) suitcase, and the Christmas decorations…foil shapes will come back into style.

Grandma G’s attic is like a mini-Toys ‘backwards R’ Us. Brown boxes filled with the toys me and my sisters used to play with waiting to be used by a new generation. There is a wooden train set made by my grandfather waiting to be rescued from beneath a Christmas tree (one of those fancy modern ones, I have the family heirloom tree up in my attic). We could bring down a box a year and still have enough to last us till they are teenagers.

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Corporate cuddles

In which I join a company sanctioned hug and get a branded mug.

Tell us why you love us

Today we are having a corporate hug-a-thon where I am being asked to keep a record of the number of cups of tea I’m drinking and how many times I say ‘fun’. All the while being encouraged to fill in my log book of joy so it can be collected by a secret cabal of happiness makers for some non-nefarious reason.

Now that may come of sounding a little cynical, but I can never get on board when a company tries to make individuals feel better about their job by making us all sit around a campfire singing a customer service kumbaya.

Not that I am against such activities, but as a Brit I feel that I have an inherent cultural disdain when authority tries to implement fun on me. When the ‘powers that be’ try to get all touchy-feely it hits my ‘special spot’ and means that I repress the feelings of shiny with sarcasm and cynicism.

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Nothing better than your own bed

In which I try to get comfortable on another mattress but miss my own spot.

Being away always means that you get to come back, well mostly but this isn’t a post about what disasters are likely to befall you whilst you are absent from home. Instead this is a post about what I miss most when I am away from home.

Of course this is easy; I miss my wife and family when I am away from them. Especially as I know this part of my post normally appears on Facebook so will earn me extra points for being all soppy. I’m hoping that the excerpt will end at “them”.

I am always sensitive around sleep, so I will always miss my bed whenever I’m not at home. Actually I can be even more specific than that. It’s not the mattress or bed frame that I pine for, it’s the pillows. The aged pieces of artificial fibres (no feathers due to my asthma) that have separated and reformed, bound together by sweat and skin cells, to fit perfectly to my head. Whenever I go and sleep elsewhere it just isn’t the same.
pillows from my bed
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Becoming the Nobber

In which I tell the tale of the friend who was there when I least needed him.

Movie clichés are amazing aren’t they? The way the same old trope comes up again and again, especially in science fiction. The indepth exploration of what it means to be human seen through the prism of artificial intelligence or a simulated reality. Of all the great clichés is the body swap, the chance to swap bodies with someone who is the polar opposite to yourself and look at the world through their eyes. I mean how different can you get from Jamie Lee Curtis (whose family sit in the House of Lords) and Lindsay Lohan?

So if I was to swap with someone, who would I choose?

I could go for the easy opt out here, and say “oh there is nobody else I would rather be than me” or go all around the houses and not make any decision. So in the interest of not doing that I’m going for a hard choice. I’m going to swap with “The Nobber”.

The Nobber?
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The wonder of lists

In which I write my list of lists.

Having a disorganised brain I will often need to create order from chaos. I ramble enough when creating a coherent vocal thought so when it comes to writing I need the crutch of a good bullet list to make a point rather than a stream of elegant prose.

As a result I enjoy writing lists. Not the kind I should be using to be more productive at work, that makes me sad to see the tasks I need to complete, but the lists you’d make in the pub. The kind where you rank the best haircuts in SciFi (Mal Reynolds) or the most beautiful F1 car (the Ferrari 156).

The reason lists are great are:

  • It makes each point stand alone.
  • You don’t have to write a whole paragraph.
  • You can say lots of things without the need for filler.
  • It gives what you are saying a false sense of authority.

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One year on…

In which I keep messing with my blog rather than adding to it.

I woke up to a reminder that it has been one year since the Red Posting, the day when I went all Lannister on this site and removed every post from the last few years. The reasons why I did it are now a bit of a blur, normally the destruction of this site is accompanied by a downturn in my mood, because on this occasion I had no reason send everything to the trash bin.

Since then I have been slowly rebuilding the site to be a better version. I can’t remember which one I am on now because I have been through as many cycles of rebirth and destruction as The Matrix. This time it does feel a bit like the ending to that trilogy, the cycle may have been broken but it has probably left a bunch of people disappointed.

Now one year on from the ‘do-over’ I’m not sure what has really changed. The number of posts is at a similar volume, and the quality is just as erratic, but I have become more regular at putting something up here (so far I am on track with the Daily Post challenge, beating my previous record by eight months).

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