Performance

The chap I share an office with is a musician; as I tried to get back down to earth this afternoon we talked about performance - the enabling adrenalin rush - I was saying that to give this morning's presentation I had to become a different person. Which is OK, provided that I can find the space now to put myself back together again. It doesn't help that my wife and I were up half last night cleaning up after our son, who was sick.

Up to high doh

To-morrow I have to give a presentation at work; I'm anxious; I don't know how it will go. It's difficult to think about anything else.

Oh, yes we did

The last performance of the season - panto at the Kings Theatre, Edinburgh. It's not often that pantomime packs an emotional punch, but this one did. You know the rules - the handsome guy gets the girl - well, not this time - the clown got the girl (and the circus). I'm trying not to spoil it for you, so I'm not telling you the title. So there!

There seems to be a world shortage of sonic screwdrivers

At least, neither Toys R Us nor Woolworths had any; in the end, we settled for a Judoon trooper figure.

Yes, Karin, it's that time of year when winter seems to be going on and on for ever; I'm longing for the first snowdrop; and hoping again that you're feeling better.

I don't seem to be winning

Even a boxer gets a rest between rounds. But come Friday, and I just exchange one fight for another.

Defensive

I've been thinking about the various references in this blog, direct and indirect, to the imbibing of alcoholic drinks. I do drink wine, beer, and whisky (not all at once). I try to keep my consumption within the recommended guidelines. Sometimes I drink enough to feel 'euphoric'.

I know that for some people, alcohol has to be avoided. And that some people disapprove of the drinking of alcoholic drinks. And that alcohol is implicated in some bad behaviour. And that it is dangerous to drive when under the influence of alcohol.

All that I ask, gentle reader, is, please do not be offended by these references. I do not think of myself as a problem drinker, but that is my perspective. Incidentally, I am writing to-day under the influence of nothing stronger than a mug of tea.

Slainthe!

Wir gettin new windaes

An' new doors! Ah've signed ma name on the dotted line.

We dinna have a lum. The phrase 'lang mae yer lum reek', basically, means 'long may your chimney smoke' - I guess it just means - 'may you prosper'.

But 'dubs' is a word I hadn't come across. Scots Online says that it means 'mud', which is fun. I can guess what 'fou as a puggie' might mean - perhaps not entirely suitable for homework - but, sadly, occasionally an accurate description of this blogger - well, possibly a slight exaggeration ...

The mither tongue

Our daughter has had to compose 10 sentences using Scots words (as homework). I've been having fun, since my mother is a Highlander, I was brought up near Glasgow, and my dad was from London, so dialectically I'm a bit of a mixture.

Lang mae yer lum reek!

Between

Welcome, Ginger Blue, and thank you for commenting.

My wife and I argued, yesterday. It's always hard to recover, to acknowledge that we have differences, and that we have to work through them.

Compensation

This afternoon, I gave blood, and now I'm drinking a glass of wine; they're both red stuff, so it makes sense, doesn't it?

Another busy day

But no time to describe it ...

It was windy, last night

It was windy, last night
Originally uploaded by Glaswegian

The picture says it all ...

The visiting cat

There is a cat which has got into the habit of coming to our door, mewing for food and shelter. Generally, we allow him to come in, give him some scraps to eat, and let him find somewhere comfortable to curl up for a while. But we haven't allowed him to stay the night. It tends to be me who evicts him. We think that he has an owner, so I reckon that the best thing to do is to entice him out with something to eat around the middle of the evening, so if he does decide to go home there will be somebody who can let him in.

It was getting late this evening, and the cat was still in the house. Nobody else seemed to be concerned; I was too tired to do anything subtle, so I picked up the cat and carried him out the back door. His piteous miaow nearly broke my heart, but I didn't let him back into the house. When I opened the door about ten minutes later, he was gone.

I really don't know what to do. I can't believe that he is a genuine stray. So I suppose that my head is now telling me that I did the right thing, but my heart isn't so sure.

First day back at work

Unfortunately, this was one of those days where I ended up with considerably more work to do at the end than I had at the beginning.

Black dog

Back to work, to-morrow; feeling utterly, utterly despondent.

A crazy outing this afternoon - to the beach (well, the sun was shining) - but the picnic came to an abrupt end when our son was clearly suffering in the cold.

Don't blog when drunk

So I'm not blogging ...

A sudden thought

The children and I went swimming this afternoon, unexpectedly. I was thinking that it would be good to do something active - especially with the aim of tiring out our son, who might be more willing then to go to bed when the time comes. Well, it's tired me out ...

Out of the depths

Short, dark days. Always being responsible for children. Unclear about the future. But grateful for mercies, such as the heat in the house being on, although the boiler needs a replacement part.

It could have been worse

As we drove to my mother's to-day, the car started to make an expensive sounding noise. I was thinking that we'd have to leave the car with my mum, and find an alternative means of getting home, but, miraculously, when I took the car for a test drive after lunch, there was no sign of the ominous noise. PTL.

A drab New Year's Day

Of course, staying up until one o'clock this morning probably didn't help; and the rain hasn't stopped; but we meant to get out somewhere, and we didn't.

Royal Museum

Royal Museum
Originally uploaded by Glaswegian

In the National Museum of Scotland, the attraction being a ceilidh, which wife and daughter enjoyed while son and I explored the museum ...

A recuperative day

We even managed an afternoon stroll ...

A long time in the making

Our daughter's main Christmas present last year was a doll's house, or, to be more accurate, a doll's house kit. So far, we've put most of the structure together, and have been fitting a light in each of the rooms. To-day, we went back to the shop (a year later) to ask their advice - how to fit lights in the uppermost rooms without disfiguring the roof; the answer - wall-mounted lights, but they didn't have anything suitable in stock. Never mind, we bought some roofing paper - it looks like slates. We'll go back in a few weeks' time to see about these lights. This house will be complete - eventually.

But I think that we're OK. Even if progress is slow, it's reasonably steady; we didn't manage to do much during the summer, when there was work to be done in the garden. I think that what is good about this project is that every forward step is genuinely progress, and there isn't a deadline, so we can do good work as we go along.

Enchanted

We enjoyed the film; it seemed to be making fun of Shrek, which in turn made fun of the traditional fairy story. It was a clever story, and (to me) a satisfying denouement. But our daughter lost her teddy bear on the way. Grrrrr.

Shock

I struggle to find hope, at any time, especially this time of year, which we are told is a time of hope. There was the Boxing Day tsunami, and to-day we hear of the assassination of Benazir Bhutto. I do not claim to understand politics, but I am always shocked to think that people have plotted to kill someone. To hate someone so much that you are prepared to kill someone; that I find unthinkable. But what do I know of real suffering? And if I blamed an individual for my plight, what would I do?

There is a cat who visits our house. I am uncomfortable about letting him in - surely he has a home to go to. The other day, our son tried to stroke the cat, and the cat scratched him. Not long after, our son had taken his revenge - some complicated action involving giving the cat a fright by arranging for his sister to shout into one toy radio while he, presumably, held the other close to the cat. I guess that it is too soon to try to teach him about loving his enemies, especially as on the whole he is fond of the cat. Perhaps you have to learn 'an eye for an eye' before you can appreciate 'love your enemies'.

I am not complaining

But it would be nice to spend some time not anticipating the next crisis (how many times do you think that I've been interrupted already while trying to write this blog?). But, at least, to-day we did manage out of the house and to the top of Traprain Law.

Thanks to Dr Who

Not so much for becoming essential Christmas viewing, but for giving me an hour's peace while everybody else watches it. I was going to be sociable and join the rest of the family, but with a couple of minutes to go, I decided that I just couldn't. I don't really know why I don't like Dr Who, but I don't, except for the 'wibbly wobbly timey wimey' episode, which wasn't really about him. So I've spent an hour flying (Microsoft Flight Simulator), and here I am, updating my blog.

On the whole, Christmas has been a success. The younger members of the family seem to be happy with their presents; Christmas dinner was enjoyed. I, to be honest, found it hard going. Still, I'm enjoying these few moments of quiet reflection, while the doctor, presumably, saves the world (again).

Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve
Originally uploaded by Glaswegian

Not a great photo, but perhaps captures something of the atmosphere of this day, Christmas yet to arrive ...

Get me to the church on time

This morning in church, the Sunday School read a poem and sang a song. Each verse of the poem was read by a different child; each of our children read a verse. It was touch and go whether our son would be there. He was feeling better, but a few crises had to be resolved before we could leave the house. So, I suppose, it was with special satisfaction that I listened to him read.

And, another piece of good news: the slide rule has been found!

How to spend the first day of the holiday

Our son isn't well. A virus, I guess. And I'm tired. But our daughter and I did get out this morning, and we did meet Santa Claus outside the local supermarket. So that's nice.

It's over

Until 2008, that is. Last day at work in 2007. An odd mixture of feelings - now overlaid with too much wine. I've phoned the pizza place; they're busy, not surprisingly; our pizzas should arrive in about half an hour. Too early to wish everyone a Merry Christmas; I expect to blog a few times before the big day. But, in case I don't see you again before the 25th, Merry Christmas!

Icy

Ice
Originally uploaded by Glaswegian

The ice had made weird patterns on the car windscreen this morning.

Good guys or bad guys?

A year ago, I renewed my subscription for the internet security suite sold by a leading antivirus company. In the weeks before renewal, I was bombarded with emails reminding me that my current subscription was 'about to' expire. The only problem with responding to these emails, which I did the year before, was that if, say, you renewed with a month to go, your new year's subscription would start from the day you renewed. Clever, eh? Eleven months for the price of twelve!

In the event, I only persevered with the software for a few weeks. The latest upgrade was just too much for my poor old computer to cope with. Not much point in being fully protected if you can't use your computer because all of its processing power is being consumed by the security suite. I started using a different antivirus program.

Imagine my horror when I received an email from the first antivirus company to say that they had automatically renewed my subscription, charging me £49.99 for the privilege. They still had my credit card details on file, and had, without warning, taken the money. Apparently their change of policy was in response to what customers wanted. A shame that they hadn't bothered to tell this particular customer.

Bottom line - the people who are supposed to be defending us against the bad guys are themselves, not to put to fine a point on it, crooks. By the way, I wouldn't be writing this if they had responded to my emails. I suspect that they deliberately make it difficult for people either to contact them or directly to change aspects of their account.

Consistency

You are waiting at the bus stop. Your bus pulls up, behind another bus which is already at the bus stop, taking on passengers. What do you do? Recently, I walked to my bus, and waved at the driver to let me on. He shook his head at me, as if to say that I had done something naughty. I know, you are supposed to wait at the bus stop for your bus to arrive.

This evening, I saw my bus approaching. Another bus was at the stop, so I waited patiently. My bus disgorged some passengers, then pulled out. Angry, frightened, cold, tired, lonely, I raced after the bus. More in desperation than hope, I kept running to the next stop. As it happened, there was another bus just behind, which would also get me home. If anything, I became more desperate - if I'd waited at the original stop I would have caught this other bus, but now it was ahead of me. God was with me, I suppose, because what followed was entirely fortuitious. The bus which I now wanted to catch switched on its hazard warning lights. Passengers were alighting, and getting on to another bus in front. I arrived, totally out of breath; the driver said, "Don't give yourself a heart attack." I explained that the bus which I'd wanted to catch hadn't waited. Thankfully, this driver was kindly, and pointed out that I would still get to my destination.

So, what should I do in future? Walk along to my bus, and risk being told off? Or wait, and risk being left at the bus stop?

Warmth

It's just so lovely to have heating again!

Old age

It's the only explanation I can come up with. A few weeks ago, we brought home some stuff from my parents' old house, including a rather magnificent slide rule. It must be about 4 feet long; it lay on my desk until (I think) yesterday, when I tried to find a home for it.

This evening, I was helping our daughter with her homework, when I suddenly realised that the perfect tool for doing the sums we were trying to do was - a slide rule. Not that I would expect, in the 21st century, that she should start using a slide rule to do multiplication and division, but that it would be fun to demonstrate another way to crack this particular nut. Sadly, I haven't the faintest idea where I put the treasured object. To quote a family friend, "It moost be soomwhair!" but where, Ah dinna ken! Fortunately, it wasn't the only slide rule in the house. My own slide rule, which I haven't used for 20 or more years, lives in the middle drawer of my desk, but after fishing it out, I thought that it might be nicer for us to use another of Grandad's slide rules, in fact the one I remember him using.

I always feel that there's something magic about a slide rule - the answer seems to appear out of nowhere - it's more magic than a calculator, because there's nothing hidden. Clearly, there's a wee man hiding inside the calculator, doing the sums, but everything about a slide rule is in the open. So this evening's experience was a good one, and I've encouraged our daughter to tell her teacher how she got the answers, maybe even to take Grandad's old slide rule into school (this one is a more manageable length).

But where, oh where is the other slide rule? I've even prayed, desperately - maybe you'll think that it's a silly thing to pray about, when there's so much trouble in the world - but my little faith can just about believe that God will help me to find something - after all, "It moost be soomwhair!"

Christmas movie

The Christmas holidays are an opportunity for our family to go and see a film. I guess that it must have been two years ago that we saw The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe. This year I've been thinking of going to see The Golden Compass, but I've just started to read the book, and suspect that I would be irritated by differences between the book and the film (and I've heard that there are some significant ones). So I was interested to watch a review this evening on BBC News 24 of Disney's Enchanted. Then we watched the trailer on apple.com, and everybody seems to be pleased with the idea.

As much as you can eat

To-day the team I work with had our Christmas lunch. We ate in a Chinese buffet restaurant. It was the kind of place where you can eat as much as you want. Last year I ate too much, coming away uncomfortably full. This year, I displayed admirable restraint, but somehow it wasn't as much fun. Ah well, at least I'm not bursting at the seams.

What a difference!

One of my colleagues, who works on another campus, took the trouble to-day to come to my office so that we could work together on a project. We are both attending a meeting to-morrow at which we'll have to make some sort of report. It's been so constructive to talk about things - so often I find myself having to try to make my point in a big meeting in front of senior people, and once I've opened my mouth I wonder if I really have any idea what to say. This time, hopefully, we can back each other up.

Just checking in

These few minutes - the rest of the family in bed - are so precious. I'm tired myself, but just want to close this day; then when to-morrow arrives, it will be a new day - a fresh start.

Toys

On my way home from work this evening, I called into Toys R Us, trying to meet my children's expectations. It was, you may say, a successful visit, though I wonder if I should rather be challenging the underlying philosophy of 'getting things for Christmas'. But then, we, as children, looked forward to unwrapping what Santa had brought (long after we'd ceased to believe in the bearded man from the North Pole).

And then there was a disappointment; a car racing game which our son was given at yesterday's party is no longer working properly - and I don't think that it can be repaired.

Special guest

They're about to sing "Jingle Bells" - I wonder who's expected ...

It's Christmas time, again

I'm just trying to find the energy to go out into the (possibly) drizzle; I need to cut the bottom off the tree (apparently, they paint the bottom (can't think of a better word) of the tree with something so that it doesn't dry out, but it means that the tree can't drink); then, we can bring the tree inside, and put it up (but we have to wait until this evening before we're allowed to start decorating (it)).

We collected our Christmas tree this morning; just one stage of the operation which is Saturday morning; I was glad that Musselburgh wasn't too busy.

Why are children so reluctant to go to bed?

Our children are up early - they have to be - so when it's bedtime, aren't they tired?

I don't remember ever before being so affected by the dark mornings and dark evenings. Maybe because I'm doing the 365 days project on flickr, I'm more conscious of how little daylight we get at this time of year.

Anyway - nearly there, for to-day ...

Does this still work?

My daughter has just vomited; it's just after one o'clock in the morning; I've set up an email client on my PDA; I can't afford an Eee; can you hear me?

Free advice

Toys R Us (UK): don't entrust your delivery to DHL; according to their own website, they collected an item from you on the 22nd of October, and they still haven't got around to delivering it to your customer. As your customer, I emailed you, but you told me to phone DHL, which I have done.

Next time (although I strongly suspect that there isn't going to be a next time), I suggest that you post it.

The nights are fair drawing in

Didn't see much daylight to-day; seemed to lead a sort of nomadic existence, attending a seminar and a meeting without ever getting to my office.

Achievement

Just to say that son is now able to ride his bike (except that now it is dark, so he's inside with his sister watching Shrek the Third). He was upset earlier at the thought that he will now have to wait five days before he gets another chance to ride his bike. I think that I understand.

Maybe I should get myself a bike ... currently, I don't own one.

Shopping is a social skill

To-day, I bought a BMX bike for my son - think of it as an early Christmas present. I wonder if my poor conversational skills (possibly Asperger related) affect my shopping. On this occasion we entered the shop, within a minute had seen the bike we wanted, and within 10 minutes were leaving the shop with the bike in our possession. I suspect that someone more adept would have taken longer, but in the course of doing so would have said and heard things that would have made buyer and seller happier with the process. I have always known, I guess, that I would be a useless haggler. But I'm happy - it's a gorgeous bicycle.

St Andrews Day

This evening we are going to the panto (yes, we are!), so I'm not going to risk failing to blog on this, the last day of NoBloPoMo. Not much has happened yet to-day, but on St Andrews Day I don't think that I can do better than to link to this excellent poster.

It nearly fell apart

Just as we were about to leave the house this morning, my son announced that his foot was sore; indeed he was rolling on the floor, apparently unable to walk. After a day at home yesterday, I really wanted to get to work this morning, but if he had somehow injured his foot I would have to stay at home. Getting an appointment to-day to see the doctor at our local surgery would be difficult, to say the least. After losing it for a few moments (mainly because every course of action I could think of would be criticised by somebody), I decided to take him to Accident and Emergency at the children's hospital in Edinburgh.

As we pulled out of the town (on the outskirts of Edinburgh) where we live, he announced that his foot was feeling better. Relieved, I turned around, and was able to get him to school on time.

On this occasion, a satisfactory resolution was achieved, but it is sad that I find myself balancing the requirements of my job against the welfare of my son.

On a more positive note - when I had a minute to myself, I prayed to God for help - that prayer was answered.

Statistically likely

Blogging every day in November, I shouldn't be surprised that on one of those days I'm feeling less than 100%. Pass the tissues, please ...

Shuttle service

Unusually, I drove to work to-day; then I came home to pick up our daughter who had to be taken to the hospital for an injection. The hospital isn't far from where I work, so it was strange to be making more or less the same journey twice in each direction. It went OK - she's a real trouper!

Poachers and gamekeepers

My day job requires me to spend at least some time each week on a helpdesk, so I have some idea of how it feels to be the person whom people get angry with when things don't work. But as a customer, I am still frustrated, and, yes, angry, when I am looking for assistance, and for some reason the answer isn't particularly helpful. I try not to be angry with the person on the other end of the phone, however ...

Too much information

To tell to-day's story properly, I would have to tell you too much. So I shall be vague.

But first, thanks for the comment. I am rather conscious that it can be difficult to make and keep friends. Son and I will just have to do our best to negotiate the minefield ...

It was my wife's turn to go to church to-day (I'm sure that I've referred somewhere to the fact that on Sunday mornings one of us goes with our daughter to church while the other stays at home with our son), but when we were told last week the name of to-day's preacher I thought that it might be someone I met years ago, so I went for the second week in a row. It wasn't; it was someone else of the same name - which isn't entirely surprising, especially when there are a disproportionate number of people with this surname in the ministry of the Church of Scotland - and I believe that many of them are related. I'm sure it was for the best - I particularly enjoyed singing "Mine eyes have seen the glory", which was the closing hymn.

An adventure

I've felt for a while that our son gets a raw deal on Saturdays. Our daughter goes to a ballet class in the morning, and a drama class at lunchtime, and the day tends to be structured around getting her to her classes. Our son generally elects to be at home when he can, and when I'm at home I'm generally trying to catch up on stuff that's on my desk. I feel that I should be spending time with my boy, but it really isn't happening.

So when one of his friends wanted to come round, I was inclined to be sympathetic. But my wife doesn't want visiting children in the house, so it seemed that it just wasn't going to happen. Then I thought of taking the two of them (our son and his friend) out for lunch at Luca's, which is what we did to-day. I think that it went reasonably well.

I'm getting better

A diagnosis may be a long way off - indeed may never happen - but as a working hypothesis, the idea that I could be further along the spectrum towards Asperger's Syndrome than most people has helped me enormously. I can allow myself to be meticulous - I can be patient with myself - I can allow myself to worry at a problem until I've solved it - recognising that in some circumstances it can be a strength.

And not blame myself for my weaknesses ...

Hidden treasure

The events of to-day haven't been particularly bloggable, although I did have the privilege of talking to a Professor of Algebraic Surgery, so instead I offer you a crop of a picture I took on Sunday, of a stained glass window.

How naive!

I thought that having paid Scottish Gas for plumbing and drains cover I could ask them to come and fix a dripping tap, but no, I was wrong, and have been advised by the lady who answered the phone that I should fix it myself.

Two doctors for the price of one

Not actually, of course - I realise that we in this country are incredibly fortunate that we can go to see the doctor without having to think how much it will cost. But in the course of to-day, I have seen two doctors.

The first doctor was a community health practitioner; our daughter has a yearly appointment. I suspect that the person doing the job stays in post for just one year, because we have never seen the same doctor two years running. I was surprised on this occasion that the lady was not as young (shall we say) as those we are accustomed to. I have always assumed that this role tends to be filled by a junior doctor on his or her way to better things. We had a reasonably constructive time. At one point we were asked whether our daughter sees any hospital doctors, and took great pleasure in reeling off a list of the consultants she sees regularly.

This afternoon, I saw a doctor about me. I've been particularly anxious about this consultation, as I am hoping that it could be the start of finding some much needed help. As the doctor this afternoon repeatedly reminded me, I have a history of what would probably be classed as mental illness. Indeed, on one occasion I was 'admitted under section', which means, basically, that I was locked up in a psychiatric hospital whether I liked it or not. Recently, I have begun to wonder if the root cause of my problems could be something called Asperger's Syndrome, an Autistic Spectrum Disorder which, to be fair on those treating me in the seventies and eighties has, I gather, only been widely known about for the past twenty years.

The outcome of the session was that I have been referred to a psychiatrist. My GP told me to be patient, by which I guess that he was letting me know that I might have a while to wait.

I nearly forgot

To write an entry for to-day. To-morrow will be a significant day, one way or another. I'm seeing my GP (general practitioner - i.e. doctor) about something which I've been thinking a lot about over the past week or so.

A blank sheet of paper

A grey day, but not a bad one ... a rainy Sunday afternoon (only it wasn't all that rainy) ... a chance to make some progress on a doll's house which my daughter and I are putting together ...

How (not) to say 'no'

Why do supermarkets sell DVDs? It's a kind of modern minefield. You go out, the kids tagging along, to do the weekly grocery shop, and your child asks - since we're going to Tesco, can we buy 'Fantastic Four - the Rise of the Silver Surfer'? (I thought that I was a silver surfer ...) You say - no, not this time - and, lo, you have an extremely distressed child.

Three cheers for Pudsey!

This evening, we have the charityfest known as Children in Need

Scraping the barrel

It's nearly bedtime, and I have nothing to write.

Drudgery

I really can't think of anything interesting to write about to-day. Unless you want to know how I surfed the buses to work and home again; or how I dealt with work to-day.

My wife is out seeing our children's teachers. Hopefully, the feedback will be good; although our son has recently sent me a couple of text messages to say that he doesn't like school. He's just 7 years old. I'm at home with the children; they're watching a video of Toy Story 2.

A do-it-yourself breakfast

This morning, I had breakfast in Asda Walmart. I continue to be amused at what they do if you want a sausage roll and a coffee. They ask you to pick up a roll, still wrapped in cellophane. They give you two sausages on a plate. At the checkout, you pick up two packets of butter, and an empty mug. Having paid, you take the mug to the coffee machine, and pour yourself a coffee. It's just that in other places, what you get at the checkout is a sausage roll and a coffee.

I can only guess that they have calculated the saving in making the customer do the work, and have decided that it is worth their while.

A possible diagnosis

To-day, I made a discovery - or it could be my imagination. Unfortunately, until I am a bit clearer in my own mind, I can't say very much.

Confronting the darkness

To-day, of course, was Remembrance Day. Our girl is in the Girl Guides, and our boy is in the Beavers. Both were parading this day - a day which, thankfully, was bright and clear, made bitterly cold by a north wind. There was a short service to accompany the laying of wreaths at the war memorial, and then we proceeded to the parish church, which is the church that we normally go to (except that normally our son doesn't want to go, so one of us stays at home with him while the other goes with our daughter to church).

I observed the words on the lectern fall as we waited for people to file out of church. It was something like 'light in the darkness', and there was a bible reference, possibly 1 John 1:6. I feel that there is a lot of darkness surrounding us these days, so much darkness that the light struggles to survive. Perhaps I should take heart, though, from this morning's self portrait, taken as I faced the morning light. And remember, from the bible, John 1:5 (ESV):

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

Not enough hours in the day

I did get more sleep than I would normally have done; but to-day I have worn myself out just trying to catch up with stuff on my desk. I've felt that I'm not doing the right thing by my son, who has been at home with me for most of the day, but this stuff - bills, accounts, correspondence - has to be dealt with.

And I've just found out that our mobile phone provider has been overcharging my wife - at least that's how it looks.

No, I really am tired

And I'm going to bed; whether I get any peace remains to be seen ...

I'm so tired

I'm losing it.

Somehow it all worked

I was at work for 9:00 this morning - everybody pulled together, and I managed to catch an earlier bus; then my colleague for whom I'd covered this morning gave me a lift home - sadly, we saw the aftermath of an accident, which had occurred on the road he would have taken if he'd been going straight home, instead of giving me a lift.

Sorry to harp on

I'm desperately tired - I would go to bed now (20:10 GMT), but our daughter is still out at her club, won't be back until nearer 21:00 - and then we have to persuade those who don't want to go straight to bed that they should.

It seems never ending

Work was hard, mainly because of the after effects of yet another tiring week-end; and I've just spent some time helping my daughter with her homework - which I'm happy to do, but I just wish I wasn't so tired.

More driving

To-day, I drove to my mum's and back - a round trip of around 80 miles. My mother has just moved house - from a medium-sized house to which she and my father moved when he retired, to a smaller house, more suited to one, elderly person. So there is sadness, but I think that what my mother wanted to make to-day was a positive statement, as she and my brother and I had lunch in a local restaurant, that she is making a fresh start. The house is one of a group of sheltered houses - it's peaceful; there is a community; there is the support of a warden. And it's right next to the river, with a pleasing view out the back.

I should say that it is nearly 10 years now since my father died. For those 10 years my mother has lived in the old house, and maintained it. But she has felt over the past months that the time has come to move on; to simplify her life. So to-day has been a particularly significant day in the story of our family.

Don't blog when drunk

So I'm blogging now, before I drink any more.

To-day, I've driven 60 miles. I took my daughter to her ballet class; later, collected her and brought her home. This afternoon I drove my son to the next town, met my wife and daughter there, and we bought shoes for each of our children, before 'doing a shop' in the supermarket. Then I drove everyone home.

We bought a DVD for our son in the supermarket. When we got home, the DVD wouldn't play in his DVD player, so I drove back to the supermarket, and exchanged the DVD. The second DVD also didn't play in his DVD player, but it does play in the DVD player in the lounge (so I guess that the first one would have played in the lounge also - I tried to phone the supermarket to impart to them this gem of information, but the only number I could get for the supermarket was an 0845 number, which didn't seem to be taking me to the actual store, so I abandoned that attempt).

I do try to minimise our carbon footprint, but not one of the trips I made to-day was because I wanted to ...

Fireworks

An early, municipal celebration of Guy Fawkes' Night. Daughter was in the lantern parade; son, to get a better view, spent the duration of the display sitting on my shoulders - I spent the duration of the display wishing that I could think of a way to persuade him to come down.

Why

Why do people feel the need to criticise? Are they just trying to underline how good they are? Of course, at times we do go wrong, and somebody who puts us right is doing us a favour, but so much criticism just seems thoughtless, at best, and cruel, at worst.

Hallowe'en

At the last moment, went out with the children - trick-or-treat-ing. People were kind. The funny thing was - there is a cat which has got into the habit of visiting us - it turned up, and tagged along ...

Suddenly, it's dark

The clocks went back on Sunday (reminds me - the central heating is still in summer time), bringing a welcome lightening to the mornings. But my journey home now takes place in darkness.

Loaded performance

I put the radio on in the kitchen; I recognised (eventually) the music - it was Britten's "Cello Symphony". I can't listen to this music without thinking of two things - that the theme of the last movement sounds suspiciously like part of "Three Blind Mice" - and that the piece was introduced to me by a lad who died of an aneurism when he was just 18.

I waited until the end, and was interested to learn that the cellist on this occasion was Alban Gerhardt, whose career I have followed since he was a BBC New Generation Artist, and that the conductor was John Adams, one of the few contemporary composers who can actually write music that I can listen to.

Like a teenager

As my son (who is not yet a teenager) said to me on Friday, "You don't understand my life!"

I've been, with my family, to a ceilidh. Other people appear to enjoy ceilidhs; in fact, to the other people there it probably appeared that I was enjoying myself. But at this point I feel so utterly drained that ... well, you probably don't want to hear the rest. I'm not sick; I'm not ill. It's just that these events work differently for me - I have to put so much effort in that by the end I have nothing left.

I'll be OK; this'll pass. I don't mind enduring something that is recognised as being horrible - like going to the dentist. But it seems so unfair to have to endure something that, I assume, is meant to be fun.

Sometimes Web 2.0 just baffles me

I've just come across picnik, which offers online editing of photos. It looks really nice, and does a good job.

One of my cameras, recently purchased, is an Olympus mu 760 (I believe that in the States it is called a Stylus). On the whole, I'm impressed, but I notice (and this appears to be a 'feature' of Olympus cameras) that the blues are somewhat intense. Until now, and I want to retain the policy, my 365 photos have been unedited, but this makes me wonder ...

Before:


After:

Waterfall

I took this picture several days ago, in a riverside garden in Perth, Scotland.

Another time related question

How are we to start the 'getting to bed' process at 8 o'clock if daughter finishes Guides at 9 o'clock?

A long day

I leave the house at about a quarter to eight in the morning, and get back at around a quarter to seven in the evening - why?

What about

... a stress free evening? (meaning, of course, that this one wasn't - although the whisky helped)

Back to questioning the sustainability of it all

Just about got through the day, though not feeling great, possibly due to a virus, then home to a son who seems determined to be disobedient in every circumstance.

Autumn sunshine

Back to work to-morrow - difficult to think about anything else ...

On the spur of the moment

A letter from our local theatre arrived in the post this morning, encouraging us to come out this evening to a dance performance. At the insistence of our children, we did, and, on the whole, enjoyed the event, especially the second half. Our son attends a hip-hop class, so we hope that he found the experience inspiring.

Footprints on the beach

The good news is ...

My mother phoned us this evening to say that her move went well. She is still living in her old house, but the furniture which is to be in the new house was transferred to-day.

We had a pretty good day, I guess. Maybe not much to show for it, but with school and work starting again next week, to-day was perhaps the last easy day before swinging back to work mode.

Chores

Spent the morning working through the pile of stuff on my desk - I actually think that we've gained control - there are things to be done, but we know what they are. In the afternoon, I helped my daughter with her school project, and then we went food shopping.

Home again

A morning with the children on South Inch; a rather pleasant lunch out; and then a reasonable drive home - the car full (we have taken some stuff away from my mum's house).

A poignant moment earlier this morning, when I came across a box of my father's diaries, and read his entry for the day that my youngest brother was born.

Swimming

Perth has a rather splendid leisure pool; I took the children swimming this morning; this afternoon, we've been helping my mother to get ready for her flitting.

Each to his or her own on Sunday morning

The silvery Tay
Originally uploaded by Glaswegian

Our daughter enjoys church, but our son doesn't. So I dropped my wife and daughter at the church, then took my son on a walk to the top of Kinnoull Hill. I'm attaching an old photo to this blog post; what this photo doesn't make entirely clear is that there is a sheer drop from the hilltop to the river valley below. My son nearly gave me a heart attack as he negotiated a muddy path just inches away from the edge.

It's a long story

I find myself, unexpectedly, with Internet access tonight. Simply, we found that another family was booked to occupy the caravan which we thought that we would be staying in this week. We couldn't face going back home, so here we are at my mother's. I suppose that it is for the best.

Weariness

Too tired even to string a couple of sentences together; I'm going to be offline for a few days - we're off on holiday to-morrow.

Worn out

Helping my daughter with her homework - difficult to strike the right balance - help her, not do it for her!