You are currently browsing the monthly archive for August, 2008.
I laughed at this, despite the fact that Lloyds have given me pretty good service over the years. It’s just that I can’t help but enjoy stories where the little guy takes on the big guy, and if the big guy is some huge corporate, it’s just that little bit more fun.
Beer is living proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.
(Benjamin Franklin)
I am a recent convert to the iPhone, mainly ‘cos my other kit is Apple and I was fed up with my Windows mobile phone not talking the the Macs properly, and of course I was seduced by the sexiness of the phone.
Although I made my living for quite a few years in a really high tech engineering firm, I am still flooded with glee when something works in a whizzy way. And the post about the garden bench was written on the train on the way home tonight on my iPhone and posted from there. It’s brilliant when it works, and this worked.
The other day the kids (aged between 17 and 24, so not really kids) were in the garden and somehow broke the garden bench. It’s a traditional wooden bench that the 17 year old (then about 12) put together and varnished. He was a little concerned to see his handiwork in pieces on the grass. So we decided to repair it. We drilled out the dowels with a drill not quite big enough and glued new ones in their place. At this point Chris expressed surprise – “Why are you putting glue in?” I explained it was to hold the joints together, and Chris announced that he hadn’t used glue. So the bench had been used for around 5 years, held together by willpower and a little friction. Glad I didn’t know that at the time.
I played the organ for a funeral today, which gave me cause to think about the stories attached to people. The deceased’s granddaughter read a lovely poem about her Grandad, and it was clear from the number of people in the chapel that he had been a popular guy. All those people with (presumably) happy memories of that person. It seems a shame that we can’t somehow capture the nice side of people in everyday life. All we ever get to hear is the rotten side of life on the news and in the papers. I guess it isn’t interesting enough to hear about the ordinary, fun things that people do.
And on the way back to the car, there were two memorials next to each other – one to a guy who had died aged 47, and one to what I assume are two brothers (from their birthdays) who had died aged 10 and 17. I wonder what their stories are? And for each memorial plaque there are more stories – of people good and bad, who touched others during their lives and whose only impact on my life is a little piece of metal on a kerbstone in a crematorium.
Every funeral I attend, whether professionally or as a mourner, leaves me wishing I’d known the deceased better.
There’s a place between London and Brighton called “Warninglid”. Next time I go there I am going to have to call in and see the place – what a fantastic name. Much, much better than London or Catford, or almost anywhere.
Just to prove I wasn’t dreaming – look it up!
Seeing the sign ‘Brighton-ed’ my day (ho ho ho)
This is the first post of a new blog, like the world needs another blog. But it’s coming anyway.
