You know, I'm starting to wonder about that Chaos Theory I mentioned yesterday. On the way home from the shops I wandered down the alleyway at the back of the house. The sprouting foliage has become quite thick now the College is an abandoned site. Where once you could drive a car along the rough gravel surface, now there's only a narrow path between the grass, brambles, horsetails, and overhanging trees. A solitary butterfly, in shades of brown, went about it's erratic business.
Later that
My mobile phone beeped. That's almost a social event for me, and whilst most texts are usually reminders of phone services or the occaisional marketing ploy, I still give it a read. Just in case.
Remember that you're due to attend a course the message said. Eh? What course? Why wasn't I informed? You see, with the current 'One strike and you're destitute' regime absence could cost me my payments. So naturally I'm a little annoyed by this bureaucratic oversight. Thanks for telling me guys.
That's it. I've had enough. After a few years of not writing any computer programs at all, I've discovered how much I've forgotten. There's a command phrase I need and I can't remember what it is. It's a strange irony that help files are no help whasoever when you don't know what you're looking for.
After spending a fruitless hour in a quest for digital enlightenment, I decide that I've had enough. Switch the darn thing off and get something to eat before I starve. So I stomp despondently in
They're back. Having reconnoitered the library the other day, an even greater horde of little barbarians have stormed the premises in a quest to occupy their equally little minds with positive activity. The teachers hiss and hush to no avail as they spot something that interests them and erupt into frantic efforts to point at something first.
"I'm only good at the world stuff." Said one child as a statement of his intellectual achievement. Well good for you son. They walked past me on the wa
DING!
If I'm not mistaken, that was the doorbell. There I was, snoozing happily under my nice warm duvet, and someone has to go and spoil it by ringing the doorbell. It might be important, you never know, though a part of was wondering whether someone had broken my car again. I've reached the point where I don't care too much.
Okay, let's find out what's going on. It dawned on me that doing so meant getting out of bed. This had better be good. Switch the hallway light on so the visitor k
Beep... Beep... Beep...
The old womans mobility buggy goes into reverse gear for the seventh time as she fails utterly to negotiate the wide open space of the library lounge. Now she's stuck between shelving units with ten feet to spare.
That kind of sets the tone for the day. Oh hang on again, she's reversing again....
Okay, she's moved a few feet. That'll keep her happy for a a few minutes until she works out where she is. But as I was saying, today is proving to very annoying. One
Right. Now for another glimpse into the daily life of Caldrail, or perhaps an in-depth shock expose of goings on in my local community, or failing that, a commentary on world events?
Well I would... But I can't. My daily life isn't something I've gotten yet, as I was unpolitely reminded by yobboes in the street last night. The screams of party girls and the drunken demonstrations of manliness (as perceived by ape descended lifeforms) is of no suprise to regular readers of this blog and certa
Morning has broken. I can sort of tell that from the light coming through the curtains. Even better, the colour of the light varies according to the weather, so I know what sort of day it is before I summon the will to get out of bed. A grey sombre look for rainy days, a dull rosey glow in snow, and a brighter glow in the sunshine reflected off the abandoned college building. Boy are my natural rythmns going to be upset when they pull that one down.
So now it's time for my daily stroll down
With all the rain and weather warnings currently afflcicting everyday life in Britain, it was a pleasant suprise to see a blue sky out the window this morning. Of course this isn't summer and a clear sky means chilly weather. My breath was easily visible. Not to worry, the sun will warm things up in due course.
Days like this sometimes have something extra. There's a splendid view of the Moon this morning, a splotchy ball of of putty grey that you normally associate with the night-time. It's
Typical. I've run out of stuff in my cupboards. No matter how organised I try to be I always forget something on my trips to the supermarket. So once again I scramble around for the last few coins in my pockets and head for the shops in an optimistic mood. Turning the corner that leads off the main road and along a pedestrianised street, I cou;d hardly fail to notice the crowd of supermarket employees stood around chatting and enjoying the sun, not to mention a few cigarettes.
I wonder wha
Sunrise, sunset, Sunday, Monday.... Yes, Swindon has reverted to ordinary greyness. There's a sort of comfortable familiarity about layers of dismal cloud drifting across the town and never letting it be one thing or another.
It's been a suprisingly quiet start to the year. I only heard the first police siren wailing past my home on saturday night. Even Punch & Judy, fresh back from annoying someone else on their christmas holiday, have been quiet and mindful of the fact that thanks to t
What a weekend. Hot sunny weather is something to be treasured. On my way through Town Gardens I just couldn't resist the temptation for a midday siesta, so I chose a wooden bench in a secluded spot and leant back. The sun was very hot. Even with my eyes closed I could see the light as a pale redness through my eyelids. Although the air wasn't actually warm, the gentle breeze felt like a welcome break.
My first interruption was a wood pidgeon making his moves on that classy female on the nex
Back when I started music, you basically had a choice of instruments. Good, expensive ones, or cheap rubbish. Music keyboards especially conformed to this pattern. That was the era when electronics were really starting to make themselves felt. The rubber pads of a ZX Spectrum micro-computer for instance. Not for me. I paid three times as much for a Dragon 32 because it had a decent keyboard. Nonetheless, a cardboard and polystyrene package containing a Spectrum arrived at our house one morning.
The last few days have seen dramatic moments in the history of Swindons Mechanics Institute. For those who don't know, the Great Western Railway built a community centre for the benefit of its staff back in 1859 and it's been left to decay for decades, since no-one has any idea of what to do with the place or where to find the money to do it.
The owner, a property developer, has done little to maintain the listed building (that means it has historical significance and should be preserved) an
It may be Friday but my jobsearch goes on. And on. And on. And ... Well, you get the idea. Right now my life seems like an endless ritual of phone calls, internet browsing, emails and letters, and quite why employers don't believe I can do a days job is beyond me because I do a virtual job already.
That said I'm not exactly well paid. Increases in benefits have not exactly kept pace with rising bills. Food is more expensive and the supermarkets seem hell-bent on forcing everyone to purchase
The task for the day was to head out to the edge of my known universe, or more specifically, Blunsdon. That's four and a half miles away. Even though the start of the one day course in 'How To Use The Internet For Jobsearching' was not all that early, getting there required an early start.
I don't mind as such. If you need to get out of bed at some ungodly hour, that's what you do, and whether the need to get up or the uncomfortable cold temperatures were the cause, I was wide awake long be
There's a strange phenomenon that takes place when Swindon gets bad press. You suddenly find hordes of people who say "We like it."
Swindon has tried ceaselessly to reinvent itself ever since the railworks closed. Out with the old, in with the new, oops we made mistake, look at our brand new plan. In fairness, the pace of beautification is increasing. The victorian pidgeon nets are vanishing, plans to reintroduce the canals throughn the town center are in place, and architects impressions of
Tony Blair once told us that he wanted everyone in Britain with an internet connecrtion. Now Gordon Brown is proclaiming "The Digital Revolution" and telling us that he sees the internet as an essential part of life, as much as basic services like gas, electricity, and water. The government sees this internet growth as part of their plan for recovery from the recession.
Well that's nice isn't it? Ordering breakfast by email to the missus, sending that spreadsheet to the kids so they know wha
Music is an interesting phenomenon, apart from modern metronomic high volume siege weaponry. I speak with some experience having been a professional drummer during my mispent youth - I wasn't known for being quiet. However, as a drummer I recognise the need for 'music', something to listen to, something to evoke a mood, whereas a lot of music today reveles around the concept of physical punishment as bass frequencies pound you like punches from Mike Tyson.
That's all very well if you like th
Last night I started to feel a little warm. You know those restless nights where you just cannot achieve a state of blissful comfort no matter what permutation of bedroom artifacts you choose? Yes, it was one of those nights. I decided the atmosphere was a bit stale and opened a window, plodding back to bed in the vain hope of sleeping.
As I lay there staring at the gloom I could hear rainfall. It is curious what a gentle sound it has, how soothing it can be (providing of course, you're not
It was a damp morning as I left my home for work. The first glimmers of twilight are now visible even on overcast days like this. The usual crowd were there. The builder waiting for his mate to pick him up, leaning against the tool-shop window. The young lad dressed up for inclement weather striding up the hill energetically. The lady-owner of the flower shop at the bottom of the hill, beginning her daily round of smoking outside. The newsagent, who for some reason only seems communicative when
Oh no. Not this episode again! I enjoy a spot of Star Trek in the afternoons when I've nothing better to do ,but some episodes really don't have any lasting appeal. I remember seeing an interview with Jonathon Frakes ('Will Riker' in the Star Trek: Next Generation) in which he extolled the virtues of the genre, and in particular, he stressed the ability of the format to describe moral messages. He might be right, but unfortunately it's exactly those episodes that pall with familiarity.
You
We all have a new regime to cope with. For most people, the change in government from Gordon Browns grand money giveaway to the scrooge brothers of the coalition hasn't really impacted on them yet. For us dole seekers the changes are already apparent. They might get a lot worse yet, but already we share knowing glances at each other and expect trouble ahead.
For many in the general public that's no cause for sympathy. Many will see us as worthless parasites. Many of us are exactly that. Feck
Perhaps the shock of cold mornings has worn off now, or perhaps the day is genuinely milder, but today is bright, sunny, and bearably chilly. On my way the Job Centre to deliver my daily excuses I stopped in the park, watching the gathered waterfowl swim back and forth vainly waiting for a passer-by to stop and throw breadcrumbs. What? On a cold day like this?
I have to admit I remain bemused about how these birds don't freeze. After all, they live outdoors and swim in cold water. I suppose
'Tis another Monday, and in true Swindon fashion it's a grey foggy morning. The sky an anonymous pale stone grey that obscures the taller buildings.
My days are busier now, mostly concerned with the daily routine of searching for gainful employment and collecting rejection letters. So that's my day pretty much planned then.
Is that all that I am? Is there nothing more to life than endless letters and emails? In my post forklifting course world, what can I do to make life interesting?
