Tag Archives: NaBloPoMo

That’s it, then

So – that’s it. Another National Blog Post Month complete. 30 consecutive posts throughout November. I’ve really enjoyed it this time, and I hope that you’ve found at least some of the posts interesting, amusing, or otherwise worthwhile.

But if you’ve found it all a bit of a chore (or, god forbid, even a bore) then perhaps this T shirt is the one for you.

Thanks for reading. I promise not to clog up your notifications quite so regularly for at least another eleven months!

Advertisements

Thoughts from my virtual notice board

improve the silence

It’s been two days of back-to-back meetings. Most of them have been productive and interesting, but not all. Some decisions have been taken, lots of information has been shared. Data has been pored over and questions raised. Projects have progressed – not always to the extent hoped, but they’ve moved on a little. I’m not one for talking a lot in meetings unless I have something worthwhile to contribute to the subject under discussion. In general, if I have nothing to add, I’m very happy to add nothing. It’s a function of my introverted thinking style and preference – I don’t need to think out loud and generally I’m not comfortable externalizing my thought processes. The Borges quote sits very comfortably with me, although I acknowledge that it infuriates those extroverts who work (and live!) with me. I do try to adapt my style sometimes, but I’m very happy with the silence.

achieve great thingsThe university that I work for is in the midst of a lot of change. Having spent much of the last two years working out where we want to be in the next five years, the pressure is now on to do the things that will get us there. There are some very large projects under way. A £300m plus new campus in the city centre; a £90m new library and learning commons building in the existing Clifton Campus; and new information systems to better manage student and financial data across the institution. Beneath these, there is a host of smaller initiatives running : new teaching programmes; small-scale improvements to existing buildings and facilities; process improvements to improve the service to students and academic staff.

All of this generates a significant additional workload for many of us alongside the ‘business as usual’ day job (which has to be done in addition to the sexy, project stuff). There are often days and weeks where there are simply not enough hours to get it all done, and this is where the Italian proverb comes in handy. It’s always worth remembering that a good plan well executed is always more effective than a perfect plan that never gets off the shelf. Implementation done well enough is always preferable to perfect intentions.

dalai lamaAnd finally, there’s this quote from the Dalai Lama. It’s a timely and necessary reminder that however busy things get, you must always make the time to live. When busy-ness gets in the way of life, then it’s time to review what really matters and to re-focus on what’s important.

 

 

The light in the window

office view

This grainy image is the view from my office window as I sit wondering what I should write for this evening’s post. The camera on my iPhone (other mobile communications devices are available) has lightened the shot considerably, but it’s still possible to appreciate the atmospheric lighting effect on the first floor window sill. The highlighted ledgers standing somewhat drunkenly in the window appear almost Dickensian. And this allusion is reinforced by the fact that the building was originally a 19th century almshouse.

I have no idea who occupies the space now, but I like to think that there’s an old walnut desk under the window, where an ageing writer, probably wearing fingerless gloves, is bashing out histories and tragedies on an old typewriter – manuscripts that will be sent off to a publisher before being returned with a kind but ultimately final letter of rejection. Occasionally, a short story or fact-based piece will be accepted by a periodical journal, and the resulting cheque will allow my imaginary writer to supplement her meagre civil service pension and buy a bottle of port and some stilton. A fleeting moment of congratulation in an otherwise unappreciated writing career.

The ledgers on the window sill are the completed manuscripts of novels that have been read only by my writer; lovingly crafted accounts of the lives of a family that exists only in her head – and which she long-ago gave up any hope of meeting in reality. But occasionally, she takes them down and reads them through, thinking about what could have been. She is alone, but she is not lonely; and while her writing is a solitary pursuit, she still meets up with colleagues from the office. They reminisce about what was, and what might have been, and (sometimes) about what should never have been.

When she finally dies, a distant great-niece will come to the apartment to sort out the belongings and settle the estate. She will take down the ledgers and read the meticulously presented manuscripts (my writer never lost the skills gained in the 1980s typing pool), and she will reflect that there was much more to her aunt than ever met the eye. And my writer will look down and smile, and relish the fact that her memory will live on in the crisp pages of the window sill ledgers.

The grizzly world of teddy bear deaths

teddy bear“More people are killed by teddy bears than by grizzly bears.” That was the Tweet that was first on my timeline when I woke at 2am this morning. I know that checking social media in the graveyard hours is a bad idea, but I’ll admit that I was shaken by this bald statement, put out by the folks @qikipedia with no further context. I was left with a vision of killer bears sitting around all furry and cuddly and like butter wouldn’t melt, before turning into frenzied murderers during the wee small hours in the first phase of the moon. (I had eaten quite a lot of cheese before bed, which may have contributed to this fevered interpretation).

 

Of course, on further investigation, the truth is much less fantastical. ‘Teddy bears’ in this context is used as a short hand for toys in general; and the deaths (which are not at all common) are usually the result of choking on the glass eyes or other plastic components that are sometimes used in their manufacture, or a consequence of trips and falls over toys left strewn on living room floors. Just for the record, 82 Americans have been killed by real bears in the last 89 years; and there are 22 deaths a year linked to toys in the US (most of these, children).

In researching this blog post, I came across a blog dedicated to recording unusual deaths from around the world. The accounts are helpfully organized by country. They are gruesome but fascinating reading. There is the death of a man from Croydon who consumed a litre of carrot juice a day for 10 days, poisoning his body with excess vitamin A, and destroying his liver. Another account that caught my eye was titled : The London Beer Flood of 1814 – caused when several large vats of beer broke simultaneously sending 600,000 litres of fermenting brew into the nearby streets, knocking down walls and destroying several houses and (ironically) a pub. Five people attending a wake at the pub were killed in the debris of the collapsed building. One that appealed to my particularly dark sense of humour relates the tale of a 67 year old woman in the north east of England who decided to feed her flock of sheep by tying a bale of hay to the back of her electric bike and riding around the field allowing the bale to unravel behind her. The sheep – presumably ravenous – rushed the bike as a flock, forcing both it and the woman over the edge of a cliff that formed the boundary of the field. Remarkably, the woman appears to have survived the fall, but was killed when the bike landed on top of her. I’m sure I’m not alone in recalling this classic scene from Naked Gun when reading this one.

Of course, each of these deaths was an individual tragedy for the people involved, But sometimes, it’s hard to respond with anything other than a shrug and the question : “What were they thinking?!”. This is where the Darwin Awards come in. The awards “honour those individuals who improve the species by their departure. RULES: (1) adults, who remove (2) themselves, from (3) the gene pool, in a (4) spectacularly clueless manner, that is (5) true.” There are some spectacular accounts of truly innovative and monumentally stupid ways of fatally injuring yourself on the website. Among recent entries are the two Mexican women killed by a landing aircraft when attempting to get a selfie of themselves on the runway; and the Colorado man who climbed a tower crane, attached a length of rope to create a massive swing, before leaping off, and arcing out, across the neigbouring street and smack into the equally tall building on the other side. If the impact didn’t kill him, the resulting fall to the pavement certainly did.

All of which serves as a salutary warning. Take care out there everybody – and watch out for those teddy bears!

And so, the end is near…

Of National Blog Post Month (NaBloPoMo) that is! 30 days of blogging comes to an end today. I can’t believe how quickly the month has gone by. I hope that there’s been some posts during the course of the month that have amused, interested or educated you; and that if one or two have irritated or bored you, then I hope you’ll forgive me.

This is only the second time that I’ve successfully completed NaBloPoMo. It’s been a struggle at times. There’s been a lot going on in work and personally. But paradoxically – and entirely in keeping with the reason for starting doing this in the first place – blogging really has been cheaper than therapy!

I’ve surprised myself at the amount of novel content I’ve been able to generate this time; and I’ve only had to ‘steal’ stuff on a couple of occasions during the month. It’s been good to get back into the habit of researching and writing again, and I hope and intend to keep up the habit (although probably not EVERY day), as we move into December.

Thanks for reading (whether occasionally or – and you deserve a medal if this is you – daily). Thanks too for the comments and ‘likes’ that serve as a helpful incentive to keep on posting. I do this mainly for myself, but it’s nice occasionally to find that somebody else has found a post interesting or useful.

Until the next time – thank you and au revoir!

 

The good, the bad and the ugly

I love sport, in pretty much all its guises (although I struggle a bit with boxing and snooker). I remember distinctly where I was and what I was doing when Liverpool won their first European Cup (as it then was); and watching Botham and Dilley flaying the Australian attack to all corners of the ground in the astonishing win at Headingley. My heroes are largely drawn from sport : Beckenbauer and Moore; Lendl; Leo Fortune-West (although Leo is probably a bit niche, to be honest).

But while sport has given me some great memories across the 50 years of my life, it also never fails to cause me distress and pain through its ability to do stupid things. This week is a microcosm of that lifetime of experience.

To start with the good – the revelation of the nominees for this year’s Sports Personality of the Year. Sixteen women and men who have excelled in a year of sporting excellence that arguably has never been surpassed in the UK. The celebration of British sport on 18th December will culminate in one of the 16 receiving the top accolade, but (cliche though it is) they are all already winners.

Now the bad. The disclosure this week that tens (and possibly more) of young footballers were subjected to the most appalling physical and emotional abuse at the hands of the coaches into whose care they had been entrusted. To compound the issue, this has been known about in football circles for many years but it has only been taken seriously due to the incredible courage of one man who waived his right to anonymity to talk about the abuse that he had suffered. The FA and the football clubs involved come out of this looking clumsy and ineffective – but there’s no great surprise there.

And finally the ugly. The series of tweets from former professional darts player Eric Bristow that managed to display both astonishing insensitivity and complete ignorance in condemning both the victims of the abuse, and conflating paedophilia with homosexuality. I’m not going to dignify the tweets themselves with a link from this blog, but you can find them easily enough if you really feel you need to.

Bristow has already paid for his stupidity and has lost a punditry contract with Sky Sports. Whether the FA will be able to ride out the storm of criticism that is heading in their direction, remains to be seen.