Holiday time, hence the absence (more on this another time) and the short post...
A couple of weeks ago Facebook unleashed its latest change - the Timeline. It was announced many months ago with big fanfare and such. It was lauded as an enormous change.
So, what has actually changed?
Well, not a lot really. Your wall was always in chronological order, with most recent activity at the top and it still is. It still tells you everything that you have been doing, when you made friends with people and such like. But - critically - the Timeline has neatened everything up, given it a fresh, simplified look and made things more searchable.
It is a good change.
Yes, there has been a tiny bit of tinkering: you now get a 'cover' picture as well as just a profile picture, and your info has been moved around; but the main thing is the simplicity. It is almost as if they have been listening to my grumbling. In the past the changes have tended to clutter things up, move things around unnecessarily or introduce 'new' features which simply don't work within Facebook. What they have managed to do with Timeline is strip this back to the features that people actually want and use.
Good work, Facebook.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Welcome to a new place...
Yes, the blog has changed it's name. Why? Well, essentially to preserve anonymity. Whilst I was never particularly identifyable before, there was the potential that people could put two and two together, albeit with a lot of scrabbling around to find the twos first. But this way there is nothing to specifically link me.
And I think it is a better, somewhat more accurate name anyway.
And I think it is a better, somewhat more accurate name anyway.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
It's beginning to look a not like Christmas
No, it's not a typo.
I went for my work Christmas meal last night. Only, I'm still not feeling very festive. At all.
It may be a work thing. I'm not a huge fan of hanging around much with my current colleagues. In my immediate team, none of them did or would ever go for a meal. We are a small team comprised of a new chap, an older chap- who could think of nothing worse than socialising - and myself who, as senior, is 'the enemy'. Well, not quite, but they are hardly going to relax around me. So we get merged with another team for our Christmas meal, a team who we barely associate with for the rest of the year.
So why do I go? Well, partly to make myself seem more accessible and not seem like the ogre-manager that they may seem to think I appear. But also because those people who complain the team doesn't do anything, never integrates etc. are the people who don't make an effort and go to the meal. At least this way I have a legitimate reason to complain.
But for some reason this year it just doesn't seem Christmassy. I know that to a great degree this is my own fault. The decorations are starting to go up at work and I have only today and tomorrow left in the office. I've horribly back-ended myself with my holidays this year, but one of the side effects is that I miss the Christmas build-up at work, asking people what they are doing and other such nonsense.
And at home my life is a clutter. Once again I am single for Christmas. I have been with someone on two previous Christmases and there is something inherently infectious (and not in a bad way) about Christmas preparations. You get excited as much for the other person as you do yourself by being infected by their excitedness. But I am used to being single for Christmas. However the house is in a state.
I am having the roof replaced this week. For those of you that have read the news stories about gales and storms, rain and wind and snow you can probably imagine I am revelling in the coincidence that is this same week that I am exposed to the elements. However I took precautions and emptied my loft. This means that the boxes that were in there are scattered around the house. Combine this with emptying the spare room so I can DIY it, this means there is a lot of clutter around. Too much clutter to feel tidy for Christmas, and certainly far too much to make space for where the Christmas tree would normally go. Add further stilll that I am away in the week run up to Christmas and it hardly seems worth it as I won't be theren So it isn't going up this year. And the two that would normally go outside won't go because of the scaffolding for the roof, and the potential to get nicked whilst the house is unoccupied for the week I am away.
The forces really have conspired against me.
And, of course, going away immediately before Christmas means that I am probably concentrating on that rather than Christmas. Once I get back I can start to think about Christmas, for all the one day I have.
And it isn't as though I don't have reason to get excited. I have sorted and organised all the presents, made the cards and am generally ready. The nephew is getting super-excited and I am to be Santa on Christmas day. I have a costume and everything. And I have been eating mince pies for a while. But no matter how much I try to convince myself it's Christmas, it just doesn't feel like it.
There could be an age thing. Not only am I single and childless, but I have little to get excited for. I know what I am getting for Christmas: a drill, a kitchen bin, and a mattress topper. Alk very utilitarian and not in the spirit, but then our family has often been like that.
But I can't help feeling it isn't just me. I know I have done all my shopping online (or Man Shopping) but I haven't felt as though town, and the shops, have helped me get into the spirit.
I don't know if it's a general malais, ennui or anaesthesia, or quite what. Every year they start the Christmas countdown earlier and earlier. The BBC Magazine Monitor regulars will know of the feature whereby readers report their first sighting of Christmas merchandise, and this year Selfridges unveiled some of their Christmas display in July. They claim to have sold around 2000 baubles in the first week, which really isn't that much for a big shop. But if there are Christmas decorations on sale for half of the year is there any surprise when we become ennumbed to the festivities. It's rather like the boy who cried wolf. For half the year. It has bred not just indifference, but active antipathy, conscious disengagement.
And as hardly having shopped in town (again, it has been done online and I don't want to spend any more money than necessary with getting the roof done and going away) I haven't been exposed to the relentless tirade of Christmas tunes (although I went to a shop on Sunday and heard something worse than Christmas tunes: terrible covers of Christmas tunes because they were clearly tok cheap to afford the originals). But maybe it's a good thing, maybe a need a year off to rekindle my love and appreciate what has become very mundane and perfunctory.
I went for my work Christmas meal last night. Only, I'm still not feeling very festive. At all.
It may be a work thing. I'm not a huge fan of hanging around much with my current colleagues. In my immediate team, none of them did or would ever go for a meal. We are a small team comprised of a new chap, an older chap- who could think of nothing worse than socialising - and myself who, as senior, is 'the enemy'. Well, not quite, but they are hardly going to relax around me. So we get merged with another team for our Christmas meal, a team who we barely associate with for the rest of the year.
So why do I go? Well, partly to make myself seem more accessible and not seem like the ogre-manager that they may seem to think I appear. But also because those people who complain the team doesn't do anything, never integrates etc. are the people who don't make an effort and go to the meal. At least this way I have a legitimate reason to complain.
But for some reason this year it just doesn't seem Christmassy. I know that to a great degree this is my own fault. The decorations are starting to go up at work and I have only today and tomorrow left in the office. I've horribly back-ended myself with my holidays this year, but one of the side effects is that I miss the Christmas build-up at work, asking people what they are doing and other such nonsense.
And at home my life is a clutter. Once again I am single for Christmas. I have been with someone on two previous Christmases and there is something inherently infectious (and not in a bad way) about Christmas preparations. You get excited as much for the other person as you do yourself by being infected by their excitedness. But I am used to being single for Christmas. However the house is in a state.
I am having the roof replaced this week. For those of you that have read the news stories about gales and storms, rain and wind and snow you can probably imagine I am revelling in the coincidence that is this same week that I am exposed to the elements. However I took precautions and emptied my loft. This means that the boxes that were in there are scattered around the house. Combine this with emptying the spare room so I can DIY it, this means there is a lot of clutter around. Too much clutter to feel tidy for Christmas, and certainly far too much to make space for where the Christmas tree would normally go. Add further stilll that I am away in the week run up to Christmas and it hardly seems worth it as I won't be theren So it isn't going up this year. And the two that would normally go outside won't go because of the scaffolding for the roof, and the potential to get nicked whilst the house is unoccupied for the week I am away.
The forces really have conspired against me.
And, of course, going away immediately before Christmas means that I am probably concentrating on that rather than Christmas. Once I get back I can start to think about Christmas, for all the one day I have.
And it isn't as though I don't have reason to get excited. I have sorted and organised all the presents, made the cards and am generally ready. The nephew is getting super-excited and I am to be Santa on Christmas day. I have a costume and everything. And I have been eating mince pies for a while. But no matter how much I try to convince myself it's Christmas, it just doesn't feel like it.
There could be an age thing. Not only am I single and childless, but I have little to get excited for. I know what I am getting for Christmas: a drill, a kitchen bin, and a mattress topper. Alk very utilitarian and not in the spirit, but then our family has often been like that.
But I can't help feeling it isn't just me. I know I have done all my shopping online (or Man Shopping) but I haven't felt as though town, and the shops, have helped me get into the spirit.
I don't know if it's a general malais, ennui or anaesthesia, or quite what. Every year they start the Christmas countdown earlier and earlier. The BBC Magazine Monitor regulars will know of the feature whereby readers report their first sighting of Christmas merchandise, and this year Selfridges unveiled some of their Christmas display in July. They claim to have sold around 2000 baubles in the first week, which really isn't that much for a big shop. But if there are Christmas decorations on sale for half of the year is there any surprise when we become ennumbed to the festivities. It's rather like the boy who cried wolf. For half the year. It has bred not just indifference, but active antipathy, conscious disengagement.
And as hardly having shopped in town (again, it has been done online and I don't want to spend any more money than necessary with getting the roof done and going away) I haven't been exposed to the relentless tirade of Christmas tunes (although I went to a shop on Sunday and heard something worse than Christmas tunes: terrible covers of Christmas tunes because they were clearly tok cheap to afford the originals). But maybe it's a good thing, maybe a need a year off to rekindle my love and appreciate what has become very mundane and perfunctory.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
DIY it yourself
I'm feeling very home-made at the moment.
I've just had some more of the delicious chicken and mushroom soup that I made. A couple of weeks ago I was eating beetroot soup, not only that I had made myself but with beetroot that I had grown myself. And last night's mash potato was also home-grown.
But it got me thinking, just how home-made is home-made?
The beetroot soup was probably about as home-made as you can get. At the other extreme is the restaurant meal where you don't grown the food yourself, you don't even cook it yourself. Or the takeaway. But at least with the takeaway you are probably eating it at home (or wandering down the street dripping kebab everywhere). But where in the middle does it stop being home-made?
For example, the chicken and mushroom soup - I bought all the ingredients. Yet everyone would say this is home-made food. And so almost all of the food I make is home-made because I cook pretty much from scratch.
But one of my colleagues recently 'home-made' a Christmas pudding, only I'm not convinced it was home-made. He bought a pack which contained all the ingredients he needed, pre-weighed out. All he had to do was mix them together and cook it. There are 'bread packs' which contain all the flour, yeast and everything not only weighed but pre-mixed. All you do is add water and bake.
Obviously with these things there are still elements to go wrong - you could add too much water or bake for too long and burn it. But the same could be said for a cook-at-home pizza. Yet no-one is going to try to argue that because I put it in the oven for a quarter of an hour I have made it.
The local supermarket has just started selling 'deli packs' - essentially the same as pudding mix. You get given a portion of chicken, chopped and ready to cook; with a portion of freshly chopped vegetables; a pack of ready-to-use noodles; with a sachet of sauce to pour on. The idea is that you fry up the chicken, add the vegetables and noodles, stir in the sauce and voila, you have a home-made chicken stirfry. Or do you? Shouldn't I be buying the chicken and vegetables myself and cutting them up? Should I make the sauce myself from entirely fresh ingredients? All hand-picked from my own garden?
Stir-in sauces were all the rave a few years ago. You chose the main ingredients and selected a sauce with the curry spices ready mixed in the sauce for you. But they were popular for a couple of reasons - mostly down to the fact that people approached these particular sauces with trepidation, considering the careful mix of spices the preserve of the professional. These stir-in sauces allowed you to have a curry at home without having to know how to actually make it. They also (should have) save you cluttering up your kitchen with dozens of spice jars and racks, though everyone probably has a jar of cloves that remain unloved. These new deli-packs go one step further - you don't even choose the ingredients, just the style.
And it isn't just the kitchen either. Anyone who knows me will tell you I love my DIY. There is barely an hour when I am at home that I'm not filling, screwing or banging. And not in a good way. But how 'myselfed' is my work? I use a powertool to drill the hole. I've started using a powertool now to screw as well; so it isn't really 'me' that is doing it. Yes I may be deciding where I want to put the door, but the door itself comes ready made - someone else has glued and screwed the jambs and the panels. Maybe I should be doing that to claim proper DIY? And cutting down the trees to make the panels and jambs. And obviously moulding, styling and firing the ceramics in the bathroom too.
And I need to be very careful with this, because I'm ending up talking myself out of my own accomplishments if I'm not careful. Yes, I had a lovely flapjack, but I didn't make it myself. All I did was pick the pears, puree them, mix them with oats, butter and sugar and bake them for 20 minutes. I certainly didn't sow my oats.
I've just had some more of the delicious chicken and mushroom soup that I made. A couple of weeks ago I was eating beetroot soup, not only that I had made myself but with beetroot that I had grown myself. And last night's mash potato was also home-grown.
But it got me thinking, just how home-made is home-made?
The beetroot soup was probably about as home-made as you can get. At the other extreme is the restaurant meal where you don't grown the food yourself, you don't even cook it yourself. Or the takeaway. But at least with the takeaway you are probably eating it at home (or wandering down the street dripping kebab everywhere). But where in the middle does it stop being home-made?
For example, the chicken and mushroom soup - I bought all the ingredients. Yet everyone would say this is home-made food. And so almost all of the food I make is home-made because I cook pretty much from scratch.
But one of my colleagues recently 'home-made' a Christmas pudding, only I'm not convinced it was home-made. He bought a pack which contained all the ingredients he needed, pre-weighed out. All he had to do was mix them together and cook it. There are 'bread packs' which contain all the flour, yeast and everything not only weighed but pre-mixed. All you do is add water and bake.
Obviously with these things there are still elements to go wrong - you could add too much water or bake for too long and burn it. But the same could be said for a cook-at-home pizza. Yet no-one is going to try to argue that because I put it in the oven for a quarter of an hour I have made it.
The local supermarket has just started selling 'deli packs' - essentially the same as pudding mix. You get given a portion of chicken, chopped and ready to cook; with a portion of freshly chopped vegetables; a pack of ready-to-use noodles; with a sachet of sauce to pour on. The idea is that you fry up the chicken, add the vegetables and noodles, stir in the sauce and voila, you have a home-made chicken stirfry. Or do you? Shouldn't I be buying the chicken and vegetables myself and cutting them up? Should I make the sauce myself from entirely fresh ingredients? All hand-picked from my own garden?
Stir-in sauces were all the rave a few years ago. You chose the main ingredients and selected a sauce with the curry spices ready mixed in the sauce for you. But they were popular for a couple of reasons - mostly down to the fact that people approached these particular sauces with trepidation, considering the careful mix of spices the preserve of the professional. These stir-in sauces allowed you to have a curry at home without having to know how to actually make it. They also (should have) save you cluttering up your kitchen with dozens of spice jars and racks, though everyone probably has a jar of cloves that remain unloved. These new deli-packs go one step further - you don't even choose the ingredients, just the style.
And it isn't just the kitchen either. Anyone who knows me will tell you I love my DIY. There is barely an hour when I am at home that I'm not filling, screwing or banging. And not in a good way. But how 'myselfed' is my work? I use a powertool to drill the hole. I've started using a powertool now to screw as well; so it isn't really 'me' that is doing it. Yes I may be deciding where I want to put the door, but the door itself comes ready made - someone else has glued and screwed the jambs and the panels. Maybe I should be doing that to claim proper DIY? And cutting down the trees to make the panels and jambs. And obviously moulding, styling and firing the ceramics in the bathroom too.
And I need to be very careful with this, because I'm ending up talking myself out of my own accomplishments if I'm not careful. Yes, I had a lovely flapjack, but I didn't make it myself. All I did was pick the pears, puree them, mix them with oats, butter and sugar and bake them for 20 minutes. I certainly didn't sow my oats.
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
Just a quickie
Mostly just by way of general update on things in my life...
So, work has been ridiculously busy. It doesn't help that I've back-ended myself this year again. I always save up my holidays. I am reluctant to take any during the first half of the year in case I get offered a new job and have taken too much holiday and have to 'pay some back'. Then I take long weekends over summer, but rarely any substantial break. So it got to the end of November and I still had 12 days of my 25 day annual allowance still to take. I'm having a long weekend this weekend, then leaving work on the 15th December until January. A lovely long break, but with the weather and the reduced daylight, all I shall be doing shall probably be DIY. Still, at least it is getting done!
And I'm not the only one back-ending myself either. During December there are only 3 of the 20 working days when all three members of the team are in. It really hasn't been well thought through. I blame them.
Date six never happened. Somehow I managed to blow him off. I think the signs were there on date five when we never even kissed, but mostly that was because we were in public and I certainly am not one for overt displays of affection. But then I was saying to anyone who knew about any of the dates that I wasn't convinced by him. And not just because of the fluorescent orange.
It didn't help, either, that a REALLY REALLY fit new person started at football. That is certainly one way to get me going back frequently. And he's a gayer. I wasn't convinced at first; but he definitely is. And SO fit. Beautiful blue eyes. And within my age range. And he has a hairy chest (Facebook pictures are great). And so unbelievably fit - did I mention that? But anyhow, that kind of distracted me from making a defined effort to rearrange the blown-off date six.
It is a recipe for disaster though. Not because it would again involve dating someone at football (that said, I've had no problems with my ex but mostly because he's never been back to football since) but mostly because - although single on Facebook - I think he has some sort of 'distance' or 'on-off' relationship going on. He may not but we'll see. I think I'm building myself up for a fall, but it's very difficult to stop. Even more difficult when you spend one Sunday evening session just marking each other and bantering with each other all the time.
I have now caught either one mouse twice, or two different mice, in the house. The first I released at the very top of the garden which is up a flight of steps; but people think it has probably just found it's way back. The second time I released it back into the house. Unintentionally - obviously. I opened the trap to grab it so I could take it to the park and release it and the bugger slipped out of my hand. Next time I shall jsut take the trap down to the park.
One of the reasons for the long weekend this weekend is that I have a man coming round to handle my erection. He's putting the scaffolding up so the roofer can start on Monday. I will be pleased with that - I have been intending to get the roof done since moving in six years ago; but only just gotten around to it. It is a bit of a frustrating job though - it is a lot of money to spend; and it isn't as though I'm 'getting' anything for it - I have a roof already; it's not as though I'm going to see an immediate benefit or have something to play with; I'm going to be in exactly the same position, just more watertight.
The DIY is progressing. The bathroom is coming along nicely - I'm currently doing the bath panel which is the last job to do in there. That should be done by the weekend, then I near to clear out the spare room to have a good look at the floor in there and chip off the remaining plasterwork. I'm in the middle of (re)placing doors too - my bedroom had a crappy sliding door on it; it is getting a proper hinged door; the lounge hasn't had a proper door on it since I moved in (the old one was taken off when replacing the floorboards and didn't go back on I think because it was horrible but I can't remember) and the ill-fitting kitchen door is to be replaced with one to match the others. It's all go, thank goodness.
This does mean that the house is a tip with boxes getting moved round as each room is needed for another task. It is also not helped by it being Christmas, though I have bought all the Christmas presents I need to already (smug grin) and made the Christmas cards - this is a long standing family tradition in that for the last 10 years or so I have been the only person in the family to give Christmas cards; and they are homemade. But the boxes of clutter are only going to get worse when it comes to getting the Christmas tree out. And I usually enjoy (well, sort of) having a good clean and tidy up before starting with the erection. Of the tree. And then my mother has taken to emptying their loft and giving me lots of junk to Ebay. Thanks for that. Still, if I can get it all online before Christmas I might benefit. And I must get around to posting other Christmas cards. The annoying thing is that ordinarily I would use any spare time at work to address the cards and Ebay the stuff; only because of being backended by my staff I don't have that time!
Hopefully at some stage I will get time to scratch my arse.
So, work has been ridiculously busy. It doesn't help that I've back-ended myself this year again. I always save up my holidays. I am reluctant to take any during the first half of the year in case I get offered a new job and have taken too much holiday and have to 'pay some back'. Then I take long weekends over summer, but rarely any substantial break. So it got to the end of November and I still had 12 days of my 25 day annual allowance still to take. I'm having a long weekend this weekend, then leaving work on the 15th December until January. A lovely long break, but with the weather and the reduced daylight, all I shall be doing shall probably be DIY. Still, at least it is getting done!
And I'm not the only one back-ending myself either. During December there are only 3 of the 20 working days when all three members of the team are in. It really hasn't been well thought through. I blame them.
Date six never happened. Somehow I managed to blow him off. I think the signs were there on date five when we never even kissed, but mostly that was because we were in public and I certainly am not one for overt displays of affection. But then I was saying to anyone who knew about any of the dates that I wasn't convinced by him. And not just because of the fluorescent orange.
It didn't help, either, that a REALLY REALLY fit new person started at football. That is certainly one way to get me going back frequently. And he's a gayer. I wasn't convinced at first; but he definitely is. And SO fit. Beautiful blue eyes. And within my age range. And he has a hairy chest (Facebook pictures are great). And so unbelievably fit - did I mention that? But anyhow, that kind of distracted me from making a defined effort to rearrange the blown-off date six.
It is a recipe for disaster though. Not because it would again involve dating someone at football (that said, I've had no problems with my ex but mostly because he's never been back to football since) but mostly because - although single on Facebook - I think he has some sort of 'distance' or 'on-off' relationship going on. He may not but we'll see. I think I'm building myself up for a fall, but it's very difficult to stop. Even more difficult when you spend one Sunday evening session just marking each other and bantering with each other all the time.
I have now caught either one mouse twice, or two different mice, in the house. The first I released at the very top of the garden which is up a flight of steps; but people think it has probably just found it's way back. The second time I released it back into the house. Unintentionally - obviously. I opened the trap to grab it so I could take it to the park and release it and the bugger slipped out of my hand. Next time I shall jsut take the trap down to the park.
One of the reasons for the long weekend this weekend is that I have a man coming round to handle my erection. He's putting the scaffolding up so the roofer can start on Monday. I will be pleased with that - I have been intending to get the roof done since moving in six years ago; but only just gotten around to it. It is a bit of a frustrating job though - it is a lot of money to spend; and it isn't as though I'm 'getting' anything for it - I have a roof already; it's not as though I'm going to see an immediate benefit or have something to play with; I'm going to be in exactly the same position, just more watertight.
The DIY is progressing. The bathroom is coming along nicely - I'm currently doing the bath panel which is the last job to do in there. That should be done by the weekend, then I near to clear out the spare room to have a good look at the floor in there and chip off the remaining plasterwork. I'm in the middle of (re)placing doors too - my bedroom had a crappy sliding door on it; it is getting a proper hinged door; the lounge hasn't had a proper door on it since I moved in (the old one was taken off when replacing the floorboards and didn't go back on I think because it was horrible but I can't remember) and the ill-fitting kitchen door is to be replaced with one to match the others. It's all go, thank goodness.
This does mean that the house is a tip with boxes getting moved round as each room is needed for another task. It is also not helped by it being Christmas, though I have bought all the Christmas presents I need to already (smug grin) and made the Christmas cards - this is a long standing family tradition in that for the last 10 years or so I have been the only person in the family to give Christmas cards; and they are homemade. But the boxes of clutter are only going to get worse when it comes to getting the Christmas tree out. And I usually enjoy (well, sort of) having a good clean and tidy up before starting with the erection. Of the tree. And then my mother has taken to emptying their loft and giving me lots of junk to Ebay. Thanks for that. Still, if I can get it all online before Christmas I might benefit. And I must get around to posting other Christmas cards. The annoying thing is that ordinarily I would use any spare time at work to address the cards and Ebay the stuff; only because of being backended by my staff I don't have that time!
Hopefully at some stage I will get time to scratch my arse.
Monday, December 05, 2011
Not in my blog...
Apologies if this is a little short - bladdy work keeps getting in the way.
I went round to my parents at the weekend for a family meal. One of the things this enables me to do is to read the local freesheet. This is a curious thing. It is a free newspaper that costs very little to create and contains very little of concern. It is curated from articles which have been in the 'proper' pay-for local evening paper over the preceding week.
What it does do though is give a little insight into what actually troubles local people which comes down to one thing:
Change.
People hate it; but if they can attach localism to it, then they believe it will carry even more weight. For some reason if something affects a locality it threatens a community. It is very rare that 'change' is seen as an enhancement, which is why any development - whether physical, social or technological - should be insipidly gradual with people hardly even aware that it is occurring.
One of the pieces which jumped out at me as ridiculously irrational was a piece on the opposition for a wind turbine.
A single wind turbine.
Not a wind farm. Just one turbine.
Now, I am currently preparing a much more substantial essay on the benefits of renewable energy so I will not go into that now. But I was so annoyed at this piece on the local opposition. The ONLY ground for opposition was that it would spoil the view.
There was nothing about any increase in noise pollution - in any event they would be well advised to steer clear of that as the wind whistling through trees creates as much noice as a turbine.
There was nothing about the increase of traffic due to the construction, though they probably realised such an argument was very temporary as it would only last a matter of weeks.
There was nothing about any interference to wildlife, though obviously this would distract from any 'local' viewpoint as wildlife is nationwide.
There was nothing about any disruption caused by construction and digging and hauling huge lumps of earth out, scarring the immediate landscape for a period of time. That did surprise me actually because the argument that it will take nature 2 or 3 years to return the cut-and-covered cable channels to their natural state (if at all) is certainly more arguable than the argument that, for a couple of weeks, there are going to be a couple more lorries on the road.
No, the only argument against it is that it would be a blot on the landscape. The arguers rather shot themselves in the foot though. They pointed out that there was already one turbine locally which could be seen from x many miles away and interferred with the view one got of the minster as one approached the town.
So there are two problems with that argument. Firstly there is already a turbine. How much more 'distracting' is a second actually going to be. And secondly they were not arguing that it would interfere with the view of the landscape, the rolling hills and meadows; but with the view of another (albeit much older) man-made object.
It really annoys me because for those that find them ugly there are as many who find them pretty, and a substantial amount in the middle who find them neither but who agree that they are necessary.
And it's pure NIMBYism. They wouldn't bat an eyelid if the turbine were going up fifty miles away. Or twenty miles away. Or even five miles away. In fact they would probably be postiviely arguing for them as necessary to decrease our reliance on diminshing, non-renewable resources. If they were reasonable about it - even residual in just accepting that it would happen - rather than reacting to it, then they would adopt it a lot quicker. If you are the rough surface, then of course something will grate on you.
How often do villages build themselves around - or simply differentiate themselves by - a windmill. "Turn left just after the old water-mill". In one viillage in Nottinghamshire one of the 'star' attractions is the old, industrial, entirely unaesthetic when contructed pumping station. It just takes a couple of years to get used to it being there. Think about your trip home - you possibly love seeing a particular petrol station or even power station because you know that you are practically on the home straight.
I would love to live close to a turbine. Not just because I would be 'doing my bit' but because I think they are a thing of phenomenal beauty, would enhance (or at least unaffect) the value of my property, and give me something a little bit distinctive.
I have a brilliant house on top of a hill with a view over a lot of Nottingham. At the very distant horizon I can see the eight cooling towers of the power station and it is a view which is very definitely mine. I own that view. And that view changes - some of the buildings get knocked down and rebuilt, some of the houses have their roofs replaced; even temporal things like the trees growing or the cars on the roads changing. Every time I look it is different; but most definitely mine. And just because someone erects a turbine in that view, that addition doesn't make a detraction from the beauty.
Take the arguments against High Speed 2, the new proposed rail link. I have already clearly stated my position: I am very much in favour of the project and I have very little time for those campaigning against it. I will hear their argument, but I will see through their argument. Rather than simply put the other side I can see a fully established and reasonable rebuttable.
There are four main arguments: financial, ecological, environmental and social.
The financial can only be assessed by looking at the cold, hard facts but most of the argument relies on spiralling coats, overruns and the initial costs and ignores the long-term financial benefits.
The ecological considers the pollution in the construction and continued operation and ignores the fact of necessity and that this is probably the most ecologically sustainable way to cope with increases in population and travel requirements rather than some ridiculous utopian suggestion that we will just learn to adapt to our existing network and that we should simply reduce the amount we travel rather than improve how we do it.
The environment concerns relate to 'carving up' 'vast swaths' of 'green-belt' land and ignore that this has already been undertaken with the sprawling rail and road connections already covering our green and pleasant land. Yes, my 'just-one-more' argument ignores any 'creep-concerns', but seriously, we have a lot of countryside as it is.
Which brings me finally to the main argument I was trying to get to: the 'social' argument that this will 'devastate' the villages it cuts past. It won't. They will still exist. People simply cannot afford to abandon the houses in these villages purely because a train zips past every hour. The 'devastation' of the 'constant interruption' will be something short-lived, and shorter than simply 'once they all die they will be quiet.' If they really are that desperate to get away from the noise, they can move. And their house won't have lost any value: people will see the close transport links as a positive benefit. And this is where their arguments, as well as being NIMBYist, are short-sighted and very selective in the benefit/damage analysis.
If we were just to listen to personal, NIMBYistic arguments, the projects would never get done. The change is not bad, it is just different. And we should embrace it, as to resist it is just making a rod for our own backs, no-one else's. And if we resisted all change then we would never progress.
I went round to my parents at the weekend for a family meal. One of the things this enables me to do is to read the local freesheet. This is a curious thing. It is a free newspaper that costs very little to create and contains very little of concern. It is curated from articles which have been in the 'proper' pay-for local evening paper over the preceding week.
What it does do though is give a little insight into what actually troubles local people which comes down to one thing:
Change.
People hate it; but if they can attach localism to it, then they believe it will carry even more weight. For some reason if something affects a locality it threatens a community. It is very rare that 'change' is seen as an enhancement, which is why any development - whether physical, social or technological - should be insipidly gradual with people hardly even aware that it is occurring.
One of the pieces which jumped out at me as ridiculously irrational was a piece on the opposition for a wind turbine.
A single wind turbine.
Not a wind farm. Just one turbine.
Now, I am currently preparing a much more substantial essay on the benefits of renewable energy so I will not go into that now. But I was so annoyed at this piece on the local opposition. The ONLY ground for opposition was that it would spoil the view.
There was nothing about any increase in noise pollution - in any event they would be well advised to steer clear of that as the wind whistling through trees creates as much noice as a turbine.
There was nothing about the increase of traffic due to the construction, though they probably realised such an argument was very temporary as it would only last a matter of weeks.
There was nothing about any interference to wildlife, though obviously this would distract from any 'local' viewpoint as wildlife is nationwide.
There was nothing about any disruption caused by construction and digging and hauling huge lumps of earth out, scarring the immediate landscape for a period of time. That did surprise me actually because the argument that it will take nature 2 or 3 years to return the cut-and-covered cable channels to their natural state (if at all) is certainly more arguable than the argument that, for a couple of weeks, there are going to be a couple more lorries on the road.
No, the only argument against it is that it would be a blot on the landscape. The arguers rather shot themselves in the foot though. They pointed out that there was already one turbine locally which could be seen from x many miles away and interferred with the view one got of the minster as one approached the town.
So there are two problems with that argument. Firstly there is already a turbine. How much more 'distracting' is a second actually going to be. And secondly they were not arguing that it would interfere with the view of the landscape, the rolling hills and meadows; but with the view of another (albeit much older) man-made object.
It really annoys me because for those that find them ugly there are as many who find them pretty, and a substantial amount in the middle who find them neither but who agree that they are necessary.
And it's pure NIMBYism. They wouldn't bat an eyelid if the turbine were going up fifty miles away. Or twenty miles away. Or even five miles away. In fact they would probably be postiviely arguing for them as necessary to decrease our reliance on diminshing, non-renewable resources. If they were reasonable about it - even residual in just accepting that it would happen - rather than reacting to it, then they would adopt it a lot quicker. If you are the rough surface, then of course something will grate on you.
How often do villages build themselves around - or simply differentiate themselves by - a windmill. "Turn left just after the old water-mill". In one viillage in Nottinghamshire one of the 'star' attractions is the old, industrial, entirely unaesthetic when contructed pumping station. It just takes a couple of years to get used to it being there. Think about your trip home - you possibly love seeing a particular petrol station or even power station because you know that you are practically on the home straight.
I would love to live close to a turbine. Not just because I would be 'doing my bit' but because I think they are a thing of phenomenal beauty, would enhance (or at least unaffect) the value of my property, and give me something a little bit distinctive.
I have a brilliant house on top of a hill with a view over a lot of Nottingham. At the very distant horizon I can see the eight cooling towers of the power station and it is a view which is very definitely mine. I own that view. And that view changes - some of the buildings get knocked down and rebuilt, some of the houses have their roofs replaced; even temporal things like the trees growing or the cars on the roads changing. Every time I look it is different; but most definitely mine. And just because someone erects a turbine in that view, that addition doesn't make a detraction from the beauty.
Take the arguments against High Speed 2, the new proposed rail link. I have already clearly stated my position: I am very much in favour of the project and I have very little time for those campaigning against it. I will hear their argument, but I will see through their argument. Rather than simply put the other side I can see a fully established and reasonable rebuttable.
There are four main arguments: financial, ecological, environmental and social.
The financial can only be assessed by looking at the cold, hard facts but most of the argument relies on spiralling coats, overruns and the initial costs and ignores the long-term financial benefits.
The ecological considers the pollution in the construction and continued operation and ignores the fact of necessity and that this is probably the most ecologically sustainable way to cope with increases in population and travel requirements rather than some ridiculous utopian suggestion that we will just learn to adapt to our existing network and that we should simply reduce the amount we travel rather than improve how we do it.
The environment concerns relate to 'carving up' 'vast swaths' of 'green-belt' land and ignore that this has already been undertaken with the sprawling rail and road connections already covering our green and pleasant land. Yes, my 'just-one-more' argument ignores any 'creep-concerns', but seriously, we have a lot of countryside as it is.
Which brings me finally to the main argument I was trying to get to: the 'social' argument that this will 'devastate' the villages it cuts past. It won't. They will still exist. People simply cannot afford to abandon the houses in these villages purely because a train zips past every hour. The 'devastation' of the 'constant interruption' will be something short-lived, and shorter than simply 'once they all die they will be quiet.' If they really are that desperate to get away from the noise, they can move. And their house won't have lost any value: people will see the close transport links as a positive benefit. And this is where their arguments, as well as being NIMBYist, are short-sighted and very selective in the benefit/damage analysis.
If we were just to listen to personal, NIMBYistic arguments, the projects would never get done. The change is not bad, it is just different. And we should embrace it, as to resist it is just making a rod for our own backs, no-one else's. And if we resisted all change then we would never progress.
Thursday, December 01, 2011
A gentleman of extraordinary proportions
I'm so excited: today I have trousers that actually fit!
This may seem a remarkable statement and for me the remarkableness is that I need to make it at all.
You see, I am tall.
Not ridiculously tall. I am 6'4" (around 193cm for those who don't use a yardstick). The UK average is around 5'9.5". I have now found out that less than 5% of the population are my height or taller, but I still don't come across as abnormal. Well, not height-wise. But I am not proportioned in the manner in which shops would like me to be. My legs are long. Not so long as to look unusual, but long enough to expose my socks in a standard 'long' trouser leg. So my new trousers are a 37" inside leg.
The problem really is that I am not that ununsual in my unusualness. The fact that I struggle with clothing (well, getting it to fit at least) is not in any way unique to me either. If I speak to any of my friends they will tell you they have problems.
Trousers and jeans you wouldn't think would be much of a problem. The waist size is specified - 28", 30", 32" etc. Obviously there will be some (like me) who fall inbetween those (at around 30.5") but nothing that a belt can't assist with. Then you get the leg length - short (around 29"), regular (around 31") and long (33"). I am ridiculously over the top, I accept; my current trousers would classify as extra-extra-long. But that's not the only problem.
If you are a 28" inside leg, they simply don't make a 'long' - you have to settle for short or regular. Similarly whilst some shops offer 'extra-long' at around 35", they only do so if your waistband is 34" or greater. A friend suggested to me that I shop in Big and Tall, but the problem is in the name: Big AND Tall. You have to be both. Yes I could get trousers in my length, but then I would be able to fit in the waist twice over.
And obviously 'long' is not necessarily so strictly defined. In some shops a long trouser will be 33". Some it will be less. I have seen some places regard 34" as 'regular'. And there are some that don't tell you at all - you just have to try it out.
But even between stores some people can find that what is 31" to one shop is a different 31" in another shop. I know there are always going to be slight variences due to manufacture, but you will hear some people say "I need a 32" waist in Marks and Spencer, but a 30" waist in Next." I am presuming that they haven't lost that many pounds walking between the stores.
But this isn't just me being particularly long in the trouser department.
I have quite a long torso too. I don't know how - my dimensions don't quite seem to stack up. I can only presume that my tiny head makes up the difference. But a long torso means that all t-shirts are too short. They are all (unless you start looking at XXL) the same length. Never mind, at least I know I am a 'small' because of my pigeon-chest (or shall we just say slender body?) Or sometimes even an extra-small, very occasionally a medium. But if I am buying a jumper or shirt I have to get a medium or a large. This is because the arm-length on anything smaller is simply not enough to keep my forearms warm, let alone my wrists. I have extraordinarily long arms and yet noticably slender wrists. This is why I don't wear long sleeves unless I have to. Even then, medium or large jumpers are often not long enough in the sleeve, but to get anything bigger would swamp me and certainly hide my lithe body, hindering me with my already-hampered attractiveness.
Some places are getting better. There are a number of shops now that sell long-sleeve shirts with longer arms. Some actually allow you to select one of three or four sleeve lengths (though again the lengths offered are often collar-size dependent and I may have to get a wider collar to get the longest arms). However whether they are in stock is another matter.
And that is the real problem. Very very few people fit comfortably into these 'average' sizes because we all differ from average in one or another respect. I don't think I know of a single person who buys medium shirts, medium t-shirts, medium jumpers, 34" regular jeans and size 9 shoes. But the point is of stock - my shoe size is 13, but I regularly have to squeeze into a 12 because that is the largest that many brands manufacture. Go to a shop and whilst the shoe may be manufactured in a size 12, they probably don't have them in. They get sent standard pallets of stock which contain possibly up to twenty pairs of size nines and tens; a dozen or so elevens, eights and sevens; and one pair of size twelves if I am very, very lucky. But at least I can usually get them online.
Realistically it is not my body that is the problem. It is everybody's body. And not just in skewing the averages, but because everybody has a problem finding the right size in something. It's just that I have a problem finding the right size in everything.
And believe me, I would never want to change my body. I love being the height I am - I can see over the heads of other people and reach high up things. I stand out, I am distinctive, unusual. And I like being distinctive. My arms, though ridiculously long, are really useful - particularly as I am so independent, it means I can hold a door in place whilst picking up the screwdriver to screw it back on. Yes I may look ridiculous, but I like that. And again with my thinness, I would much rather be as skinny as a rake than a fatty, any day. I have trouble enough pulling as it is, without struggling to get my arms around them once I have. So I love my body in all its ridiculous unconformity.
I just wish I could get a jumper to fit.
This may seem a remarkable statement and for me the remarkableness is that I need to make it at all.
You see, I am tall.
Not ridiculously tall. I am 6'4" (around 193cm for those who don't use a yardstick). The UK average is around 5'9.5". I have now found out that less than 5% of the population are my height or taller, but I still don't come across as abnormal. Well, not height-wise. But I am not proportioned in the manner in which shops would like me to be. My legs are long. Not so long as to look unusual, but long enough to expose my socks in a standard 'long' trouser leg. So my new trousers are a 37" inside leg.
The problem really is that I am not that ununsual in my unusualness. The fact that I struggle with clothing (well, getting it to fit at least) is not in any way unique to me either. If I speak to any of my friends they will tell you they have problems.
Trousers and jeans you wouldn't think would be much of a problem. The waist size is specified - 28", 30", 32" etc. Obviously there will be some (like me) who fall inbetween those (at around 30.5") but nothing that a belt can't assist with. Then you get the leg length - short (around 29"), regular (around 31") and long (33"). I am ridiculously over the top, I accept; my current trousers would classify as extra-extra-long. But that's not the only problem.
If you are a 28" inside leg, they simply don't make a 'long' - you have to settle for short or regular. Similarly whilst some shops offer 'extra-long' at around 35", they only do so if your waistband is 34" or greater. A friend suggested to me that I shop in Big and Tall, but the problem is in the name: Big AND Tall. You have to be both. Yes I could get trousers in my length, but then I would be able to fit in the waist twice over.
And obviously 'long' is not necessarily so strictly defined. In some shops a long trouser will be 33". Some it will be less. I have seen some places regard 34" as 'regular'. And there are some that don't tell you at all - you just have to try it out.
But even between stores some people can find that what is 31" to one shop is a different 31" in another shop. I know there are always going to be slight variences due to manufacture, but you will hear some people say "I need a 32" waist in Marks and Spencer, but a 30" waist in Next." I am presuming that they haven't lost that many pounds walking between the stores.
But this isn't just me being particularly long in the trouser department.
I have quite a long torso too. I don't know how - my dimensions don't quite seem to stack up. I can only presume that my tiny head makes up the difference. But a long torso means that all t-shirts are too short. They are all (unless you start looking at XXL) the same length. Never mind, at least I know I am a 'small' because of my pigeon-chest (or shall we just say slender body?) Or sometimes even an extra-small, very occasionally a medium. But if I am buying a jumper or shirt I have to get a medium or a large. This is because the arm-length on anything smaller is simply not enough to keep my forearms warm, let alone my wrists. I have extraordinarily long arms and yet noticably slender wrists. This is why I don't wear long sleeves unless I have to. Even then, medium or large jumpers are often not long enough in the sleeve, but to get anything bigger would swamp me and certainly hide my lithe body, hindering me with my already-hampered attractiveness.
Some places are getting better. There are a number of shops now that sell long-sleeve shirts with longer arms. Some actually allow you to select one of three or four sleeve lengths (though again the lengths offered are often collar-size dependent and I may have to get a wider collar to get the longest arms). However whether they are in stock is another matter.
And that is the real problem. Very very few people fit comfortably into these 'average' sizes because we all differ from average in one or another respect. I don't think I know of a single person who buys medium shirts, medium t-shirts, medium jumpers, 34" regular jeans and size 9 shoes. But the point is of stock - my shoe size is 13, but I regularly have to squeeze into a 12 because that is the largest that many brands manufacture. Go to a shop and whilst the shoe may be manufactured in a size 12, they probably don't have them in. They get sent standard pallets of stock which contain possibly up to twenty pairs of size nines and tens; a dozen or so elevens, eights and sevens; and one pair of size twelves if I am very, very lucky. But at least I can usually get them online.
Realistically it is not my body that is the problem. It is everybody's body. And not just in skewing the averages, but because everybody has a problem finding the right size in something. It's just that I have a problem finding the right size in everything.
And believe me, I would never want to change my body. I love being the height I am - I can see over the heads of other people and reach high up things. I stand out, I am distinctive, unusual. And I like being distinctive. My arms, though ridiculously long, are really useful - particularly as I am so independent, it means I can hold a door in place whilst picking up the screwdriver to screw it back on. Yes I may look ridiculous, but I like that. And again with my thinness, I would much rather be as skinny as a rake than a fatty, any day. I have trouble enough pulling as it is, without struggling to get my arms around them once I have. So I love my body in all its ridiculous unconformity.
I just wish I could get a jumper to fit.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)