Monday 18 March 2019

Definition: Hootability

Definition:-

Index of the ability to give a damn, or in fact a "hoot".

This can range from zero (0) - where no hoots are given, to the maximum two (2) hoots. So depending where you are on this scale, is your current "Hootability".

General Usage: "He couldn't give two hoots, whether it works or not". (This is a "bad" thing)

Specific Usage: "She came in on a Sunday to get the project finished; she really gave two hoots" (This is a good thing, apart from the coming to work on a Sunday)

Emoji Usage: The "Owl" symbol is used to denote ones "Hootability".

Other Example Usage: "I am all out of hoots"; "I am in a hoot free zone right now".

Debate

How quickly can you regain your hootability once lost?

How long can you lose your hootability for? If lost, where did it go and what caused it to go? Was it having a holiday without you, and if so, where, and who did it invite?

Where does your hootability come from? Is it an innate characteristic? Can you learn it? (Yes, please contact me for the next, "Hootability - how to give a damn!", course. There is a special  30% increase in cost, if you mention this post and give me an example of how you give two hoots - training ed)

Is your hootability dependent on particular aspects of your life? For instance, can you give a hoot on one particular thing - but give no hoots on everything else? Compare and contrast the things you give two hoots about, to those you don't, discuss.

Is your hootability linked to your Biorhythms or perhaps the amount of alcohol you consume?

Can you recharge your hootability, perhaps with a holiday?

Can you get a prescription from your Doctor to help?

Will talking to the "Wise Old Owl", help you recover from a massive and sustained hootability failure?

Will just the passing of time, regenerate your hootability abilities?


Afterthought

Just what on Earth am I talking about?

Strangely, no alcohol was consumed in the construction of this inanity, it being a "School Night".

Post Afterthought

Did you spot the fact that I am prepared to charge you 30% more if you mention this blog post, when you ask about the next time I am running the course.
Naturally some of you will ask, "Is there a real course?", to which the answer is, "Yes, if enough of you want one, then I shall create one!"


From my Google Statistics Module the most favoured posts on this blog are:

IR35

Freelance IT Contractors

Ironing

EE - The Annual Event

David's curated list of TED Talks

Thursday 14 March 2019

Subjects of Rage

There is a rage building.

It has been building for a while.

It seems to be the sum of a lot of smaller bothersome things.

Perhaps, a series of things that we might call "Ragelets"

Now I should come of with a term for that (you have, you have just added a link, a line of two above -ed), The David Scratchabiity Index (DSI) to give a scale of minor itching to the full on need to rip the skin from your body to relieve the incessant itching with a really deep scratch. I am sure that scratching is tied into something quite deep in our brain, because the relief is deeply deeply satisfying.

Hmm, ragelets, "Hey David" what could possibly be generating these so called ragelets . 

Seems I might have to answer that with my starter for ten response, "Well that is an interesting question" - well I do believe that is an understatement to say the least.

So, Mr Collins - can you elucidate?

There seems to a number of themes - and in no particular order:-

Work

Bureaucracy

UK and the EU

Da Government

Facts vs Lies

The Media

Democracy

The Economy

Company CEO Pay

The Finance Industry

Gender this that and the other 

Manufacturing in the UK

The Nation State

The Euro

Mental Health

Statistics and Lies

The Environment and Climate Change

Free Trade

Litter

UK Housing

Veganism with meat bonus

Dairy Intolerance

Speeding Cars

Lack of Common Sense

General Stupidity 

Barking Dogs

Careless Dog Owners (or that's no snake lurking in the grass it's dog poop)

The Pointlessness of Cats

Pets in General

Most Shop Staff

Insurance Companies

Banks

Austerity

Political Parties

Emojis 

Walking/Driving/Breathing and Texting at the same time.

Diets (nothing to do with the Japanese parliament)

Conspiracies


Bit of a big list I know - but there is so much that needs to be addressed in this country and that gets right on my nerves. (Ooh, does each one generate a ragelet I wonder - ed)

What I may try and do is flesh out different items from the above list, to amuse myself, and perhaps even you, my dear, lonely reader, but the night is drawing in, and not doing a great job of it, as the pencil is a bit blunt and night has got its eyes shut (again), so is making quite a mess of it.


Afterthought

Haven't done one of these in a while, but that is probably for the best.

Ragelet

Definition: Ragelet

noun:

1.  A very minor irritation

Perhaps like a single mosquito bite.

Which, if you are Bridget blows up into a tennis ball sized red monstrosity, within what seems like minutes, but if me, just another things on my body that I have to scratch.

Perhaps even generated by a new improved work process that is in fact a step backwards, as it  consumes more of your time for absolutely no personal benefit (but saves other people time and money).

Perhaps generated by simple spelling mistake e.g. "passsports" with that slippery extra "s".

Perhaps generated by cars speeding through a 20 mph zone at closer to 40 mph with nary a concern.

Perhaps generated by cars/vans/trucks going through road side puddles and blithely unaware and uninterested as they pick their noses, eat their breakfast, text, talk on the phone, do their hair as they splash that unwary highly visible pedestrian with a tsunami of water.

Perhaps generated by another piece of unthought out, over worded, unimplementable,  unfit for purpose piece of Government legislation that not only fails to address the issue that it purportedly is supposed to address but makes life that little bit more difficult for everyone that comes into contact with it

Note: ragelet is not a word that is in general usage (as I have made it up, ooh - one sec while I google it - yep - not out there in internet land, so another word first for me).

How it relates to me

I see ragelets (oh yes, there are normally found in large groups, usually lurking in the corners of you mind) as set of  small things that are added one at a time to my mental landscape and have over perhaps the last year or two, created a vast monstrous palace (Gormenghast - ain't got nothing on it - I can tell you) of rage about what seems to be almost everything that I see, read, watch and have to deal with. But that is a different post.


Note:  A ragelet (all by itself, is nary a danger) , however, with time and effort and  the subtle  addition of its brethren  (other ragelets), maybe one here, one there, a couple from behind the sofa,  bloom into a damn good inferno of rage.

Be warned. Ragelet induced rage is one of the most concerning epidemics of our times.

Just don't mention  IR35 or Brexit whilst I am in earshot.

It seems that the use of certain words or short phrases can generate  a cascade of self-perpetuating ragelets, that can quickly form into a black rage in just a few short but in no way sweet moments , I can tell you!

Also, as can anyone who has been there when it has happened to me.

Some of these poor people are still on the path to recovery.

I do visit them from time to time in the post-rage unit (PRU) , with flowers and fruit, not sure why I do that, but it seems appropriate; though the nurses keep telling me to ditch the flowers as they can trigger asthma attacks, sigh.


Friday 15 February 2019

It's been a while...

 I know, I know!

Where have I been, what have I been doing?

You really don't care, do you, you are just being polite!

Some of you may want to know about the unfinished, "Anguish in Aberdeen", cycle of posts. It's all in my mind, just takes time to extract it all and put it into an electronic form. I might be bothered to get all the posts links into one super linked post, but then again, I am not sure that I can be bothered.

So, how am I?

Well that IS an interesting question!

(I can hear Bridget in my mind, going, "Oh no, he's used the 'Interesting Question' response - that's never a good sign.)

As those of you who know me, and not in the Biblical sense, but then there is very little sense in the Bible. Now, there is a whole host of things about the Bible that I could...

 (whoa there, not gonna, just saying I could, I don't want to drive the last reader of this blog away,  the pleasantly named, The Right Reverend Angus Wilcox, "Morning Rev" (for it is at this moment of time the morning in, oh so sunny, Alton))

...go skipping over any Bible shenanigans, (way too much begatting in there for my liking), where was I going?

Aha, the response to, "How am I?"

That IS an interesting question?

Where should I start?

There are just so many different aspects of that that need to be taken into consideration.

I will see if I can break them down into sensible groupings, perhaps starting with some outline headings - then that will help me focus and fill out each one, probably a post for each one; though this may be the start of the long festering book in my head,

"David's Guide to Common Sense and Its Application to Everyday Life in the 21st Century on Planet Earth (tm)", not the snappiest of titles but it is a decent starter for ten (For those overseas readers, that is a BBC University Challenge reference - look it up ed)

But, before I get to that point, I need to be quite clear that there is a build up of rage, driven by a large number of disparate things going on, as ever, mostly in my head.

Which takes me to one of my favourite Harry Potter (no Rev, don't go - ed) quotes:

Harry Potter:
Professor? Is this all real? Or is it just happening inside my head?
Albus Dumbledore:
Of course it's happening inside your head, Harry. Why should that mean that it's not real?

.. and I think that is very deep indeed. It is all real and it is all happening inside my head, including you my dear, dear reader.

Meandering around Alton

I've had an unexpected couple of days "off", my current contract expired on Tuesday and the new one arrived Wednesday with a surreptitious 'gotcha' clause added in, luckily I spotted it,  queried it and  without some changes I simply could not sign it. Sigh.

So, as I couldn't provide services without a contract, I stayed at home. But this was not a problem (apart from the loss of one or more billable days - financial ed)

Now, I am a big fan of Marcus Aurelius, Roman Emperor, Stoic Philosopher, Wise Man and all round great guy.

Why am I mentioning this, well, as I had this "unexpected free day" (not free, damn costly - opportunity cost ed), rather than just rail and rage about the injustice of the lack of a signable contract and berating the bureaucracy that failed to get it in place before the end of the previous contract; and yes I did do those things, but after few minutes or so I realised that it was in fact pointless and not making me feel any better - but it did throw another log onto the fires of my rage; it's burning just a wee bit hotter and brighter now, if you are asking.

So, I used this spare day, as the opportunity that it was, to do some stuff that needed doing; and as we all know, the backlog of stuff that needs doing sometime, is enormous, and generally grows.

This was a golden opportunity to attack that backlog and make a big dent in it, possibly with my head, but preferably with some less easily damaged part of my anatomy.

Hmm, using words like, "backlog" and "opportunity" makes me feel like I am at work, grrr.

FYI I work in the "Agile" world of software development now (recently, since around about 2000) . I even signed the "Agile Manifesto" way back when, which in essence is the, 'Build software that the customer actually wants and get it into production as soon as possible with the highest possible quality, then rinse and repeat',  style of development. But I think that is a whole other post (or book - looking for opportunities business ed)

The Bed

We are about to change our bed; we bought a new one (wouldn't make much sense buying an old one I suppose, unless it was antique?),  in early January 2019 ...

(sorry - I have had to split off the below section as it has seemingly turned into a monster of its own creation... if you want to know about the bed can I suggest you skip the below section in braces and with italics, if you are lucky the words afterwards will line up and make sense (that would be a massive improvement - sarcasm ed)

...
(for those of you who are annually challenged, you know who you are, it takes until around April before you realise that you are in fact in a New Year - and then you start wondering, "Where did the year go?". 

It used to be a more prevalent condition when we all used to write cheques. 

Note:  a cheque is a piece of paper, that you could write details, names, amounts, dates to ensure payments (money) from your bank account went to the appropriate people, companies and da Government  - for those of you "Millenially" challenged, kind of like a mobile payments app, but without the need for a phone, an app, a charge battery - ed),

... which is part of the 'Fixing up the house" programme of work that is going on this year (2019  - as we established earlier - sigh).

The Point

There is a point to all of this, but as with many things, it is the journey that leads to enlightenment, not the final destination, as, and I know it is sometimes hard to really grasp, no-one gets out of here alive, so the final destination is meeting DEATH and so the journey is what it is all about.

Making the most of every day and  having the most enjoyment along the way:-

 "Keeps my boat, not only afloat, but hovering around 6ft off the ground"

(for my metrically challenged readers, that is around 1.8 metres).

But I digress, and if I didn't, would I be me?

Old age 

What? How did we get here, we were talking about Beds, then "Fixing up the house" and now Old Age...

Patience, my Dear Alaskan Friend. It is all linked, trust me, I am a [insert your favoured trustworthy person here] (most people use 'Doctor', but strangely enough, not me.)

 There have been a number of discussions over the past few years, very few of them relevant to this missive, but the pertinent one is about retirement (thankfully missing out the mental and physical decline and the ever nearing death conversation - phew ed).

The Staircase of Doom

The staircase in our cosy (small, very small - ed) Victorian terrace is terrific - nope definitely the wrong word - terrifying is the correct word.

It is very steep and narrow, it would fit perfectly in with the high streets of many a northern town, but without the music, the cobblestones, the rain, did I mention that damned mournful music, the soot, the Northerners, in fact let's face it, it is just plain steep and narrow and it has never visited the North.

Given the nature of the house, 2-up and 2-down, with single story extension at the back (errm - doesn't that make it a 2-up, 3-down - pedantic ed), where the single story extension contains the kitchen and the bathroom (if you were asking). 

(Though it does raise the idea of a 3-up, 2-down, that at first seems impossible, until you take into consideration hillsides - architecture ed)

The downstairs bathroom is the only bathroom (restroom for those of you linguistically challenged - ed) in the house; which means that those nocturnal moments of joylessness, where you can no longer ignore the bladder pressure, generally incur a journey down the nightmare staircase to the safety of the bathroom and relief, let's face it, the bathroom is about as far away from the bedroom as it is possible to be in this house, sigh.

We have both fallen down the stairs over the years, most importantly (i) without being pushed and (ii) without being inebriated ..

(the wall at the bottom of the staircase has brought one court action against us for assault, but luckily for us, the magistrate threw the case out with the words, "A wall cannot bring a court action, it is an inanimate object" - common sense shone by the bucket load that fateful day - ed)  

..and 'fixing' the staircase has been a source of what we shall call, meaningful discussions a number of times.

My view was to put a contract out on it, but Bridget thought I was being silly, remember she is The Reservoir of Household Sanity (tm). So I was over-ruled, again, sigh.

Retirement Home Options

So, we are on this journey, and you my dear, lovely, warm and fuzzy readers are coming with me on it.

With me so far? The bed is relevant and I will sew it back into the fabric of this narrative soon, real soon now (do you trust me - I wouldn't - I do have some idea where I am going with is, but the sun is dipping now - and there is a fire to make, fizz to be popped and guzzled and chins to be wagged - eh ed)

We (not 'you', unless you were hiding under the stairs, with the rest of the scary monsters - ed), started discussing where we would live come retirement; as for us to be able to retire in this house, with these stairs would be ever so difficult, nay dangerous.

It used to be that you got a special Victorian stair allowance from the Government, to provide home help to give you a hand up and down steep staircases, sadly this has been done away with due to Austerlitz (don't you mean Austerity - ed),  I know what I mean, follow the link if you need further information, it is not at all relevant, but it is importantly more information.

So, this retirement discussion, where we chatted in an adult fashion ...

 (the screaming, shouting and abuse are, believe it or not, all optional in an adult discussion, I think the worst thing we do is do the muppet eye roll - and to be honest that is mostly by me, I've got it down to a 'T' or is it a 'Tee' or maybe even a 'Tea' - Milk and Two Sugars please - ed),

...about where we could afford to, or want to live when we both retire.

As ever, it came down to money, familiarity and the proximity of family and loved ones (the further away the better in my books - ed).

Now you may know, certainly you will if you have been paying attention?

Have you? Why have you? Sorry, for a moment there I had a moment of doubt, but I believe it has passed.

I shall try and go on, but The Voices (tm) they do so interrupt my choo choo i(train - helpful ed) of thought.

You may know that we have been to The Great North (tm) where I had a bout of The Great North Runs (tm) (which would quite nicely take us back to the Anguish in Aberdeen saga, is only I could weave it all into the tapestry of my life - ed) not to be mistaken for The Great North Run (probably someones trademark - ed).

One of the things we had believed was, that housing was cheaper up north.

But as ever it was not as simple as that. Why oh why is it never just plain and simple?

But is did get us to thinking, what would we need to do to this house to enable us to stay in it until not only My time of dying but also Bridget's.

If you have followed this far, well done, but can you see I am starting to stitch it altogether, (No, oh poop - ed)

The Staircase

So our after our initial skirmishes (discussions - ed) we arrived at the thought, "What if we could get a less steep and dangerous staircase into the house?"

So we chatted and wondered, and finally I did some measurements, got some dimensions, numbers of steps etc worked out that the only place a new staircase could go, was exactly where it was, but would need to be less steep, and have to turn 180 degrees to get all the required steps in.

Did I mention that the steps are also very shallow - which means that people with normal feet have to walk in a sideways fashion coming down the stairs; going up ain't so bad as you can bound up on the front (balls) of you feet.

However, my calculations showed that for the staircase to be less steep (and meet modern regs - safety ed), that we would need to lose some of the floor in the back bedroom to allow for enough head room on the final turn(s) at would be the bottom of the staircase. With me? I would draw a picture, but really cannot be bothered.

Let there be Light

So, whilst we were discussing the staircase, one thing led to another and we talked about letting more light into the middle of the 3 downstairs rooms.

The back of the house is south facing, so the kitchen and the under-used back bedroom get all of the light.

The middle room, has no natural light and is a dark and dingy place, so we mused over having the wall between it and the kitchen removed - so that the light from the kitchen could pour like a golden wave of cheer and happiness. See where we are going here...

One things leads to another...

Then we thought, whilst we were at it, we could also fix the "Slug Problem (tm)".

Slug Problem

We have a slug problem. Eh? Under the floorboards downstairs is just soil, good old Victorian damp soil.

Slugs, spiders, snails and other scary things (mostly beginning with the letter S)  live under them, and even with a layer of cat hair filled carpet and the liberal (other political parties are available - balance ed) application of strategically placed gaffer tape, the little bleeders get out and into the house.

Now, I can live with the spiders, everyone has spiders, however, descending the North Face of the Eiger (our staircase - sigh ed), in the dark, in the middle of the night and finding something squish under and then up between your toes, is really, really (perhaps even another really - ed?) not something  I would wish on anyone, not even people I don't like.

Once you've done it once, and have had to rinse the dead sluggy blood and bits from out between your toes in the shower in the middle of the night, you really, really don't want to have to have that happen ever again, I still shiver at the memory. Once you've been slugged once, you never want to  go back.

Solving the Slug Problem

So, to solve the slug problem we reckoned we would need to take up the carpets, the floorboards etc and fix it, membranes, damp prevention, new flooring, insulation, the whole works... and we would need to do this to both the front room and the middle room.

The job of "fixing the house up for retirement" was growing.

Slug Hunting at 1am (one a.m - not Iam)

Have you ever done slug hunting at night?

It has to be done at night, as they seem to be nocturnal. I have sat for many an hour during the day waiting for them to show themselves, but they don't!

I have slug hunted, many times, sometimes even successfully!

Note, even picking them up with a tissue is an unpleasant thing to do, but in perspective, not as bad as cleaning them out from between your toes... everything is relative.

I know when they have got in to the house (again), as they leave little trails for me to find in the morning.

I suspect they laugh at me (snails don't laugh at you, but I would suspect that a lot of your readers might - ed). 

The smarter slugs taunt me by creating trails that read. "Katch me if you can human", "Slugs rool" - seemingly they are better at spelling than many of today's school children, who knew!

So, once I have spotted a taunting trail, the very next night, when my bladder calls me to go downstairs or I wake up due to my internal Slug Watch Alarm (tm) going off, I creep down the stairs then  turn the lights on full , and with my Slug Net (tm), in hand I go a-hunting.

What never ceases to amaze me, is how even the tiniest slugs, seem to be able to generate enormous trails.

Bringing it to a temporary end.

OK, this post is not quite finished (barely started, the voices in your head, might say - psyche ed) - the choo choo of thought hasn't faded, but my right buttock is starting to indicate that it has been sat on for a little bit too long.

Don't worry, there is more I want to share, oh, so very much I want to share (wink) .

But I most get this into the postbox before the last post is collected (I am not sure that's how it actually works - sanity ed)

But don't worry  - I'll be back... I've missed you, yes I have, even you at the back of the room.


For those of you suffering

Never forget there is help to be had, and people who will listen.