The large picture window looking out across the bay is awash with rain making it hard to see any details on the beach below.

Yesterday it was a distraction to watch the people walking along the beach or spot the odd donkey with a child onboard. Today that’s gone and all we can do is try to concentrate on the arguments back on forth on this aspect or that of the project.

Coffee and Danish interrupt the morning as people brave the balcony, trying to get a signal on a mobile phone. Lunch is just an excuse to go the to lounge to the wireless zone to pickup emails.

The afternoon is more intense. More “discussions”, more planning, more frustrations. At 4:30 I give up get into the car and head for the airport with the rain chasing my tail.

Luckily the traffic is with me and I make good time. I drop off the car, negotiate security and head for the BA lounge to grab a sandwich and watch the departures board.

Clearly the weather is taking it’s toll today as flights to the Isle of Man are cancelled and my flight’s arrival is delayed. I raid the salmon sandwiches again and treat myself to a glass of white wine, call K and watch the board. For a long time.

At last the flight arrives and we all rush, trying to catch up on the delay, anxious to be through the hell of Heathrow arrivals and home. The crew are welcoming and apologetic and we settle down quickly for a fast take off.

I love travelling at this time. Just after dusk, as we circle then descend, London looks magical. A velvet black expanse stretching out to the horizon across which are threaded golden lines of lights. From time to time there is a pool of white light as we pass over a football stadium, the players just visible on the grass below.

Next the Thames, it’s waters catching and making the lights shimmer and dance before we drop lower still on the final approach to Heathrow.

We made up a little time but that was quickly lost in the wait for luggage to appear on the belt. The air was hot and humid as I stepped out of the coach at the car park but at least I was almost home.

I wonder how long before I return there again.

Posted by Mark at 11:54 PM | Permalink

Manchester is not a popular early morning destination.

Unlike the queue for security the 06:30 flight to Manchester was more or less deserted. The eleven of us were warned not to move around in case the trim of the plane was altered. A warning which we all took seriously and which confined us to our seats.

With so few people on the flight the atmosphere was very relaxed. It made a nice contrast to the queue for security which was lengthy, nervous and worried. The sight of businessmenshoe-less and jacket-less carrying bags, clothes and laptops away from the scanners was amusing but reminded everyone that there was still a potential threat and perhaps this is the reality of air travel from now on.

Fylde and the surrounding area is one I know well. Blackpool, Heysham, Overton and Glasson Dock all bring back memories of trips North. On the way here I passed the hotel next to the canal which we all stayed in that last summer, an odd mix of fun and sadness. I remember the meals, the bottle of Oxford Landing and the sense of relief when we got back there. The waitress who always joked with us.

The Dalmeny is very different and has a long, family history. Celebrating it’s 60th year the prices have moved on since the 35 shillings it cost for a family room with two adults sharing with two children. The restaurant manager had her 21st birthday party here and is still a loyal employee despite the restaurant being restyled into The Atrium, a trendy bar and restaurant with concealed lights instead of the large patterned wallpaper of the 1960’s.

Admittedly not all of the transformation from a small family hotel of yesteryear to the larger, modern complex of today has gone well. Venture into the stairwells and you are faced with unrendered, unplastered walls with bare concrete steps. Despite that it has a nice feel and clearly wants to serve and support the community as the donation letters from the RNLI in Reception prove.

Tonight it’s home and warm and dry from the rain and wind outside. The BBC news says that in the next few days this area may, possible, be subject to the highest tides for years. Looking at the large expanse of flat sand in front of the Dalmeny I wonder if it will last another sixty years.

Posted by Mark at 11:23 PM | Permalink

I’m not sure if it’s what’s happened today or what will happen tomorrow but there’s no doubt things aren’t right, either with me or at work.

Perhaps it’s the stress or a bug I picked up but all I’m capable of is a very early night ahead of a very early start tomorrow.

Laters.

Posted by Mark at 8:22 PM | Permalink

We set off looking for a beach and ended up in docklands.

In a blurred rush this morning I met Martin, had lunch and then we were off into heart of London to explore.

First stop was the British Museum. We’d parked in Bloomsbury and were heading to the Thames so a brief trip to the Asian gallery and the Great Court cut out a long walk around the grounds of the museum.

Then down to Covent Garden to catch the tube and onto East India Docks where we were looking for the floating beach with no luck. Back on the DLR to West India Docks and there it was. Smaller than we expected, fenced in with crowd control barriers and as deserted as the one Robinson Crusoe had walked on.

Luckily the bar next to the Museum of Docklands was open and the sun was shinning so we sat out for a drink or two, watching the people wandering by.

As we had got used to that it seemed a good idea to slowly walk down the South Bank to Gabriel’s Wharf, eat pizza and ice cream to the sounds of the river lapping against a much better known Thames Beach.

Posted by Mark at 11:38 PM | Permalink

Some Sundays seem destined to be slow and enjoyable and this was one of them.

A languid start, a drink at the pub then off to K’s folks for Sunday lunch, catchup with their news and roast dinner.

Wonderful.

Posted by Mark at 8:36 PM | Permalink

History is an odd thing.

It’s always around us and slowly developing, but, before you know it you look over your shoulder and see this tidal wave which you need to catch up on.

A few places in Britain let you paddle around gently in this sea of history trying to make sense of it, and the Tower of London is one of those places.

Despite it being a sunny day the place wasn’t too packed which was good as we all seemed slow at climbing stairs and needed more time to admire the Crown Jewels. The first time I came here I remember then being inaccessible, locked behind some large cases with people shuffling by, fighting to get a view. Today they sit serenely under glass cases as the tourists glide slowly by on either side thanks to two moving pavements under the watchful eye of a security guard.

Posted by Mark at 10:31 PM | Permalink

“I’m a devil for fast things”, said Joanne as we stopped at the top of the big wheel.

All I could do was mutter “Hold onto the rail” in as adult a voice as I could muster and stare firmly at the horizon. Luckily once we got going it wasn’t too bad.

Today we all escaped to the steam fair to try to quell Joanne’s thirst for speed and thrills and to give me a day away from the thrill of email.

For a day which was supposed to be wet and cold it did a very good impersonation of a late summer day. Fluffy white clouds, loads of sunshine and warm.

This fair has a unique collection of Edwardian steam rides each with an amazing history. The people who run them now care for and maintain them and are happy to share the history and nuances of gallopers compared to the dobbies (horses which just go around in a circle rather than round and round and up and down) of Mr Field’s Steam Circus.

The Gallopers were reborn after the Second World War as Chair-o-planes and now happily chug away shipping young and old around at high speed. I just watched, happy for the excuse of having to video them.

Regarded as the world’s first “White Knuckle” ride, the Razzle Dazzle was built around 1908 . It is one of the earliest rides to use both rotational and tilting motion and it was from this than many of the modern rides were developed. Never a favourite with the showmen as it had to be erected on perfectly flat, hard ground and with a complex construction, only a few were made and this is the last steam driven example in the world.

After a lazy afternoon wandering around the rides, the gardens, the steam train and the traction engines (and with the added excitement of two Spitfires in a gentle mock dogfight above the Downs) we headed home for a beer at the pub, some Thai curry (so hot that it could have powered most of the rides) and the washing to remove the smuts from skin and clothes.

Posted by Mark at 11:11 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

My appliances seem to be rejecting me.

First it was the fridge now it’s the cooker. It sits there, fan running, blowing out cold air when it should be hot.

Clearly the curse of the cooker has moved up the road from Martin’s cooker to mine. I’m hoping it will be fixed as cheaply. Last thing I need at the moment is the hassle of replacing another item of white goods.

Today has been unbelievably busy. People are heading off on holiday at work and I was involved in meetings and handovers. In many ways this will be the calm before the storm. It doesn’t feel much like a calm : meetings, project plans, phone calls, all add up to a long day and I still aren’t onto expenses, travel requests and clearing my email.

I’m going to try to take tomorrow off. No big plans but with a Friday and the Bank Holiday I will have a long break from work which is probably what I need at the moment.

“The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, worry about the future, or anticipate troubles but to live in the present moment wisely and earnestly.”

Posted by Mark at 10:53 PM | Permalink

Trussed, stuffed, roasted and sliced thinly : I knew just how the turkey had felt.

It seems every office we stray to we manage to witness a fire. This time we watched it start. At first no one, including us, seemed very worried but then the smoke got thicker and the alarm bells started.

The point of being here was meetings. Normally it’s one side of the company pitched against the other. Today it seemed we were fighting amongst ourselves. I really wonder how we were ever sort this out whilst we have people with these attitudes.

Clearly we weren’t going to get any agreement and we headed back to the canteen. “We decided the news was all too upsetting and everyone needed cheering up”, said the woman, serving me turkey with all the trimmings. “Nothing cheers you up like Christmas dinner”. She adjusted her Santa hat and pointed out the Cranberry sauce.

After lunch any Christmas cheer we picked up didn’t last long. All we got was no : no we can’t, no we shouldn’t, no we won’t.

Trussed and stuffed.

Posted by Mark at 10:11 PM | Permalink

I can’t say it has been the best of days today at work but at least it’s over.

Tonight I’m still in the study, trying to catch up on my backlog of weblog reading, photos to process and CDs to burn.

I seem to have less and less time to do all this sort of stuff but a longer and longer list of things to do. I’m reluctant to stop blogging but trying to push myself to new areas photographically (which inevitably needs research, practice and time to get it right) and writing as well is taking time.

At least I now, finally, completed Dave and Mouse’s wedding pictures, got some CDs of the pictures copied and the pictures submitted for printing.

Now all I have to do is make some space on my PC to get the wedding video onto it for editing….

Posted by Mark at 9:59 PM | Permalink

After some well placed hints by Daisy, a few furtive calls, some research on the web and a text message or two Daisy’s birthday arrived and with it a new digital camera for her.

The timing was just right with their holiday starting tomorrow. Today was a warm and bright evening letting us all sit out to enjoy Paul’s cooking and a glass or two of champagne in the late evening sunshine.

We all sang Happy Birthday, took too many pictures of Daisy blowing out candles then settled down to a late night of jazz, Spanish Brandy and good company.

Happy Birthday Daisy

Posted by Mark at 11:59 PM | Permalink

“You don’t have the right idea about shopping with a bloke”, I said to K as we stood looking in the shop window. “You’re supposed to be dropping hints about what you like”.

Today was an easy and relaxed day of shopping. Not as sunny as yesterday but still relaxing and that, at the moment, suits me just fine.

Posted by Mark at 8:49 PM | Permalink

There’s something very special about eating fish and chips as you watch the sea lapping against the beach.

We’d left the darkness and rain of home to head to the coast. Everyone needed fresh air and time outdoors. It seems to be the only thing keeping me sane at the moment.

The journey down wasn’t the best. A long queue on the motorway meaning we needed to head across country, testing Martin’s knowledge of the minor roads, before we got back on track and a slow crawl to the beach.

Parking in a side road we walked down to the seaside and then along the sand, stripping off the fleeces we’d all worn fearing it would be as cold and grey as when we left home. As it was almost lunchtime we all wanted to eat and we quickly came across one of the places we’d discounted earlier in the year as it was closed, but not today.

These days outside are, to me, more and more important. Not only is it nice to be away from the desk, laptop and phone it is such a relief to walk away from all the stress and pressure we seem to be under. No deadlines, no juggling multiple aspects of this project with different needs and demands. The most stressful thing was wondering if we’d get tartare sauce and whether or not to have mushy peas. It’s these days, amongst other things, which keep me going for now.

After the meal we set off along the beach, discovering shells and abandoned sandcastles and enjoying an ice cream before the trip home.

I always feel sorry to leave the sea but at least today I left it happier than when I arrived.

The two images here are a little different to my normal shots. The top one is an example of cross processing and the bottom is the latest attempt at HDR

Posted by Mark at 8:43 PM | Permalink

Two happened today : one outside and one inside.

Outside the rain came again in monsoon like quantities putting paid to drying the washing outside or sitting out with a book.

Inside the deluge was email as people got ready for the weekend or for the week, or more, off next week.

I still have the three pages stuck to the wall with the same things on, possible on balance a few more than I had. I know I will need to work tomorrow as well as try to catch up with the chores I hoped to do (pictures, video, buying presents etc).

Tonight, oddly, I’m alone and playing around with the blog. I’ve made a few changes recently and tried to add things like callouts now the goal is better tagging and indexing. It’s simple work with a challenge to it and reminds me that I was, once, a technical person.

Posted by Mark at 10:05 PM | Permalink

Well as promised it happened all again today more or less the same as yesterday.

Back home this evening the smallest bit of sun lingered on the patio as I found a new book and sat down for a while to read.

Almost the end of the week.

Posted by Mark at 8:33 PM | Permalink

Seminar …

I tumble out of bed and stagger along the landing. The study is full of piles of “stuff” waiting to be sorted. Expenses forms, receipts, bills to pay, recipes to read. Taped to the shelf above my desk are three pages of A4 with “things to do this week” printed on them. There’s more handwritten additions to these lists than things crossed out.

I check my mail and read a few news sites and blogs, check the stats on my site and wonder how to publicise it more widely. After a negotiating a bowl of cereal (both milk and Special K spilled on the floor) I shower, dress and head out.

Driving to the office I turn the music up loud and sink into the leather seats trying to calm the thousand thoughts in my head, nagging and reminding me what I need to do today and what I forgot from yesterday.

We grab a coffee at the office and setup in the room before splitting up to take separate conference calls on different matters. He has the luxury of the room, I’m camped out in the corridor. There’s loads of empty offices with family snaps on the desks and jumpers and umbrellas on hangers but I don’t know the dynamics of this place. It would be easy to use one of them but I would be risking the owner suddenly appearing.

The call drags on for an hour and moves us no further forward. Already I know the feedback I will get is get it done faster. The response will be “How ?”.

The seminar starts, despite us both needing a half day to prepare and structure it. Again we all introduce ourselves and hope that this time will be the last time as we drag together the lacework of resources spread across the country. Then I talk, using Netmeeting and the Wiki we illustrate points and nudge them gently towards getting things finished. We both field questions and try to provide helpful direction and advice before we hang up and hope that they can get all we need done today completed.

Lunch is Chinese. We must be here early as no one is eating and the kitchen is in overdrive. We stretch out lunch as long as possible but still not the full hour we should have. The afternoon is more one on one calls as we review what they have done, fix their problems and plot their progress.

By six it’s time to catch up with the all the work we should have done, trying to clear the email which came in today, before we leave, lingering in the car park trying to agree when to meet tomorrow.

I drive home on the A roads and not the motorway, calling people to get updates on what is happening and trying to sort things before people go on holiday next week.

At home I speak to Anne about Daisy’s birthday next week, trying to remember to book the evening out in my diary before someone thinks a call with the States then would be a nice way for me to spend an evening. I catch up with K’s day, watch a few goals from the England team and wonder why we didn’t play like that a month or so back and then watch the F Word.

In bed I finish my book, a fast read callled Aggressor by Andy McNab, set the radio to sleep mode and listen to Late Junction.

Tomorrow I will do this all over again.

Posted by Mark at 9:46 PM | Permalink

It seems everything that can go wrong on this project will.

I now need to move the location of the kit to another part of the building. The onsite meeting today went well but I now have a whole new level of complexity to manage the fit out of this new location and provide links from the old kit to the new.

Just to top it off a supplier called to say they have ceased production of something we wanted to buy as it has too much lead in the circuitry and no longer conforms to the RoHS directives covering the “restriction of the use of certain hazardous substances in electrical and electronic equipment”.

Tonight I have given in, cooked and sat down to enjoy Chunking Express.

Posted by Mark at 10:31 PM | Permalink

I have a car which can do over 156 miles an hour. Somewhere in the attic I have a First World War Italian Bayonet which would probably kill someone if I had the mind to use it. In the shed I have a large tin of paint stripper which would leave a nasty mark on the smart car parked opposite.

So, what prevents me from doing all of those things ? Probably the same thing as you : a desire and motivation to be governed by the rules of society and the precepts of law. It’s the fact that we respect and adhere to that which means we live in a relatively safe society with respect for other people.

Imagine doing something which means that photographer’s are “camped outside my home, and also my parents home”. Where people from your past are contacted and offered money to talk about you. Imagine having your birth certificate, where you live, where you went to school, your mother’s name and where she lives emailed to you by someone who you don’t know.

It sounds like stalking but it is in fact the situation which Abby Lee of the successful blog, Girl with a One Track Mind, finds herself in courtesy of the Sunday Times and their decision to expose her real name.

Anna Mikhailova, the reporter who wrote the piece, would be well advised to consult the Press Complaints Commission’s Code of Conduct and this recommendation in particular :

Everyone is entitled to respect for his or her private and family life, home, health and correspondence. A publication will be expected to justify intrusions into any individual’s private life without consent

I hope she has a long and successful career in journalism. I hope that she uncovers something which justifies breaking that specific line in the code, some exposé of drug running or government scandal. Outing someone who writes under an assumed name about their private life isn’t such a case. It’s intrusive. She would be better advised to leave the time to break rules for something more warranted and live up the more noble examples of journalism such as Bernstein and Woodward.

Posted by Mark at 10:12 PM | Permalink

Amidst all the fun of today with calls and plans and trauma came one line on the internal chat system which stopped me in my tracks :

“Just handed my resignation to Mike”.

I can’t say I blame him and I’ve had the same thoughts a hundred times recently. We’re in that odd time when notice is worked out but already I know I’ll miss him. No more daft conversations, obscure links shared and no one to upset the powers that be by installing Opensource solutions which actually work rather than the bloatware we normally have to struggle with.

Worklife will not be as much fun …

Posted by Mark at 9:47 PM | Permalink

It wasn’t the best introduction to the food of Siam. Standing in Battersea Park huddled under umbrellas watching the rain. In fact it was more like a monsoon which was a little more in keeping with the event, the Annual Thai Food Festival, but rather unseasonal for August in London.

Unlike previous years there was a crowd of us. Martin, Fhai and the kids; Gam and Michael, their daughter and his parents, Mouse (it being the weekend Dave was away working) and K and me. All of us standing under the trees and wondering why were here and not, perhaps, in Thailand.

Eventually the weather broke and the sun came out and we headed to the beer tent to try to cheer ourselves up before we explored the food stalls.

I always associate smells with places. Charcoal is forever the smell of Thailand. Either the bustle of China Town in Bangkok or the stalls which surrounded the temples in Chiang Mai. Today, with the cloth banners above the stalls steaming slightly after the rain and the cooks wafting the burners with pieces of cardboard to get heat into the coals I was back there again for a moment. The chicken cooked slowly on the barbeques and the smell mixed with papaya and durian as I used my few phrases of Thai to get food for K to try.

Richard, however, was more interested in the Western Union stall where you could burst a balloon to reveal a number and win a price. He’d already work his way through the lower grade prices of sweets, paper hat and pen and had his eyes on the more select goods of baseball cap, DVD and radio. One by one we were led to the stall to try our luck, under his direction, and see if we could add to the haul.

Eventually we left before the rains came again (which they did as we drove back, flooding the road and making the traffic crawl) but for a few hours I was back in Thailand. The need to travel is still there.

Posted by Mark at 9:35 PM | Permalink

After all that time in an office I wanted to get out in the air today.

I’d planned to go to a local music festival but Martin called and we agreed to take the kids a little further afield. So we headed out in the car with a vague plan in mind. The good thing about Martin’s car is that it’s high enough to see over the hedges and that, with a sudden decision to go a different way, is how we ended up in a field watching a harvesting competition.

I know it doesn’t sound a brilliant day out but a large field, loads of sun and simply sitting and watching some old machinery and teaching the kids about wheat and chaff was all that I was up to. Besides it was all in aid of the Macmillan Cancer Charity so a few pound spent here was all in a good cause.

Lost as this event was outside a small village and behind a large hedge there was hardly anyone was there but that was fine. We got to wander around without large crowds. I guess in a way it was rather like the crowds you would have got at this type of event when this machinery was new, before the widescale use of cars meant that hordes of people moved around the country.

We had a very unhealthy lunch of chips and hot dogs rounded off with candy floss and ice creams. I ended up with a pocketful of wheat we managed to gather up and a much bigger smile than when I started the day.

Posted by Mark at 8:56 PM | Permalink

We all knew we’d be back. It was always going to happen.

So today was a day of “what ifs” and constant replanning. Moving dates around and wondering if we brought in more resources things would fall into place and, magically, everyone would be happy.

All that really happened was that it became more and more obvious that I’m not a project manager and that I really don’t know my way around Project and, perhaps, the plans are as good as we can get and despite all the prodding and pulling these are the dates we are stuck with.

The conference call did nothing to change that view. The Project Manager we have been working with appeared, made some noises and disappeared. We agreed on some way forward and sat back after the call wondering how we would do this and all the other things we hadn’t done all week.

At least lunch went well. A warm, smiling welcome at the Thai restaurant, a table at the back near the bar and close to the family sitting and talking with their children running around happily. Sometimes it would be nice to be five again, exploring a world and having no cares.

This evening it hit me. I crawled, tired, to the sofa and let whatever was on the TV wash over me. Sure, we did some good work and we have sorted out a real mess but at what price ? How long can we continue to do these hours and take on more and more ?

Posted by Mark at 9:15 PM | Permalink

Just what have we all woken up to :

“The current threat level is assessed as CRITICAL (as of 10th August 2006). This means that an attack is expected imminently and indicates an extremely high level of threat to the UK.”

“A major terrorist plot to blow up planes in mid-flight has been disrupted by police, Scotland Yard says. It is thought the plan was to detonate explosive devices smuggled on board aircraft in hand luggage.”

Posted by Mark at 6:32 AM | Permalink

“Don’t worry, don’t worry”, said the lady as she mopped the table.

The Thai restaurant had become our new choice for lunch. It won as it was different food and a single helping. We all seem to be piling on weight from the eat as much as you like buffet up the road at Peter’s Palace.

We’d lunched well and were enjoying sitting and resting before the flurry of activity heading towards in the afternoon session when I knocked over and broke a glass and Nick managed to tip over the vase, spilling the water all over my trousers. Like Thai people all over the world the smile appeared, the voice was calming and the concern was more for the fat falang than the cost of the broken glasses.

Calmness and smiles was something we have been missing all week as we’ve struggled with project plans. I’m a little out of my depth, rusty as I am from years of not using Project, and taking my time to get used to resource levelling and critical paths. Luckily I had worked out early on how to aggregate the nine plans we have to do into one overall plan and then present only a subset of information for the management plan.

Yet, despite that early success there was a lot of work left to do and after that we had to present them and get everyone’s agreement to use them. This week is already turning out to be a long one.

“See you tomorrow”, the lady smiled as we left, looking like some sheepish schoolboys, and we all knew that we would be back but hopefully better behaved.

Posted by Mark at 8:25 PM | Permalink

I’m in denial, avoiding the plain and simple fact that the nights are slowly drawing in.

Every night I sit out as late as I can, enjoying the breeze, watching the sky and the bats, my feet on the still warm flagstones on the patio.

I try to read as late as I can then turn the radio on the listed to the World Service or the Proms on Radio Three huddled into the fleece shirt I keep in the hall until at last it’s time to reluctantly give in and go inside.

The lingering look at the patio and the last gasp of air taken outside don’t help. Soon it will be Winter.

Posted by Mark at 9:23 PM | Permalink

We walk in again and get the same round table near the till.

I’m not sure if this is reserved for people they suspect won’t pay (and who, therefore, they need to keep an eye on) or if you turn up day after day you get this honoured position in the restaurant.

Either way it’s clear that we are spending too much time in this place, even if the lunch buffet is £5. It feels to me as if we are all adding the same amount of pounds to our waistlines that we are spending in here every day.

This work seems to be taken an age and the longer it takes the more behind we are all getting on our day jobs. All I can do to keep my head above water is to try to spend time outside every evening ploughing my way thorough the mail that appears like an unseasonal avalanche every day.

Posted by Mark at 10:28 PM | Permalink

The first few times you meet new people can always be a difficult things to negotiate.

Pulling up at the house I had the feeling should have gone for the shorts look to fit in with the other men there. In fact I could have lost the shoes and socks as well. Today, however, wasn’t about fitting in as much as looking respectable and the shirt and linen chinos luckily did that.

Sitting out on the patio admiring the vine, full with grapes, stretched over the pergola I tried to keep up with their gossip and stories and not drip canapes down my shirt front. I was lucky with both and managed to escape unscathed and having made a reasonable impression.

Posted by Mark at 10:04 PM | Permalink

Firelight is magical. Dancing over the logs in the fire we watch it almost silently.

The lamplight on the table illuminates perhaps too many bottles of white wine, the condensation coating their outsides.

“Next time”, says K about the promise of toasting marshmallows, not that either of us is hungry after a long leisurely meal outside.

After all the rushing around this week this is the first time I have sat still in ages. It’s just what I need, that and one final glass of wine.

Posted by Mark at 11:39 PM | Permalink

This fair has been a part of my life as long as I can remember.

When I was a child it sprawled behind the town show, a small village of noisy generators, miles of cables snaking over the floor and large and noisy rides. Now it’s smaller with quieter, and cleaner, generators.

The people are still interested, a different breed with a different life trying to make a living from the summer season. The tractor units are still lined out in maroon and gold and the cables are still there but, it’s all on a smaller scale. But, when the sun drops the magic is still there.

I’d come up for the night glow at the balloon show but it was the fair that drew me back to take pictures of people on the rides, the people who own and operate them and the magic that appears when the generator is switched on.

Posted by Mark at 11:34 PM | Permalink

Both Martin and I lapsed tonight.

We’d agreed to stay clear of beer all week but late tonight we sat out, lit the lamp and talked and drank.

After the bad weather of recent days it was nice to be back outside but it was nicer to sit and talk….

Posted by Mark at 11:31 PM | Permalink

I sit out to the very last moment. As I walk in with the book and a drink I hear the spots of rain hit the path.

As the rain falls the smells change. I catch the smell of drains, always associated in my mind with Paris and then the smell of dust taking me back to India.

I stand in the kitchen doorway watching the rain bouncing now back up from the path. The wind is cold and the sky low and grey and reluctantly I admit that there can be no more sitting out tonight.

I close the door , make myself a cup of Chai and settle in front of the TV to watch the F Word and hope that tomorrow summer will return.

Posted by Mark at 9:49 PM | Permalink

There are three of us in the room cursed with too many chairs and not enough network points.

We’ve all come into the office today to work together. Trying to force what seems like weeks of work into a few hours and to work with the benefit of a whiteboard which seems reluctant to give up the last thing written on it before we cover it in the scrawl which doubles for my handwriting.

As we try to make sense of the task at hand I alt and tab my way through the forest of open window on my laptop. Email, Word, Firefox, a terminal Window connected to a Linux server miles away on the corporate LAN, Visio, Freemind - all open and being useful but also making it harder to find the right one to deal with the agreement we have just reached.

I refresh the Window attached to the Wiki and wonder how my single word of text, right justified has now appeared in the middle of the line. It’s an error I will need to resolve and the fix in at least fifteen places.

We break for lunch and go to the Chinese over the road, sitting as we always do and asking for Coke before we help ourselves at the buffet. After a second helping we stagger back to work into the evening and then, at last, I’m home.

Sitting out I read until the last of the light. The weather has turned and darkness comes early now. Reluctantly I huddle into my fleece trying to get to the end of the chapter of The Kite Runner and not wanting to be back inside…

Posted by Mark at 9:04 PM | Permalink